Like many people, I was ready to support Rick Perry for the presidency.
Perry, the tough-talking, cowboy-boot with business-suit wearing governor of Texas, has great candidate hair and Texas has boomed while the rest of the country has crashed. Perry says he thinks God may call him to run for the presidency. And with that record, if God calls him, who am I to oppose God?
“Hello,” I said, because that’s how I answer the phone.
“Hey BK, it’s me,” the caller said.
“You sound familiar but I can’t place you. Who’s this?
“It’s the big guy,” the caller said.
“John Goodman?” I asked.
“Even bigger,” he said.
“Charles Barkley?” I responded.
“No, as big as he is, I’m bigger in every way,” the caller said. “I’m pretty well established. I’ve been around since before creation.”
“Larry King?” I said.
“Older than Larry King, older than the dirt, the rocks and rivers and Cloris Leachman,” the caller boomed.
Then it dawned on me. After all, I don’t give out my cell phone number often.
“Oh, hello sir,” I said. “I didn’t recognize your voice. I thought you would sound like Morgan Freeman, but that’s Sam Elliot’s voice, isn’t it?”
“That it is, son,” he said. “After seeing him as the cowboy narrator in ‘The Big Lebowski’ I just couldn’t resist.”
“A fine choice, sir. But why are you calling me?”
“I wanted to tell you if Rick Perry says I am calling him to run for president, it’s your calling from God to tell the world I told him no such thing,” he said. “I give people free will. I don’t get involved in politics. I also don’t get involved in sporting events, despite what people say and do during and after games and races and such. It’s nice that they thank me, but I’m pretty busy, so I only watch the biggest games.”
“But you keep a special eye on this country because it’s your chosen land, right?” I asked.