As I was putting gas in my car early this morning at the Hop In on Brooks Road across the street from the Babes of Babylon dance club, I was thinking. (Well, of course I was thinking. I guess most anyone would be thinking too if they were doing that.) I was standing there, not far from the Kiss My Grits diner, which is behind a hotel or in a hotel or part of a hotel or something — if indeed it's still open — and I had this cornucopia of thoughts. I just used the word "cornucopia" because I'm writing this after Thanksgiving, and the holiday always reminds me of cornucopias full of fruit and gourds. And if you know of a real use for a gourd, please let me know. Or don't. I don't care.
But yes, after driving through a nearby office complex that is now boarded up and looks like hip-hop zombies should be stalking airport workers with bad hair and pat-down gloves, and after an excursion to Cazassa Road, which I love saying and writing, even though I'm not sure why, I was pumping at the Hop In and thinking about ... well, as much as I hate to admit it, I was thinking about Sarah Palin.
I know, I know. I stated on this page eons ago that I wouldn't write too much about her anymore. But hey, look at all of the other publicity she is getting. Every single thing she does to help her chances of being the "it" girl for presidential candidacy in the 2012 election — books, television shows, out-of-wedlock grandchildren, tea-bagger speeches, newly acquainted, down-to-earth Eskimo in-laws, you name it — gets publicity. So why should I deny the woman? I was thinking that with all of the media chatter she is generating, I could be just as gross as she is if I really, really try. Or at least I think I could. I've never tried because I've never had reason to stoop that low — yet.
So now I'm thinking I need my own television show, using the highbrow example she has set with Sarah Palin's Alaska. It could be Tim Sampson's Whitehaven. I did, after all, spend many years growing up there, and Sarah and I do share some parallel life experiences from being out in the wild. I know this because I watched a marathon of Sarah Palin's Alaska episodes the other night and I have never been so transfixed by motion on a screen since doing acid in high school and watching kung fu movies at the Summer Drive-In.
First of all, she and daughter Bristol bludgeoned halibut with a club (I'm sure you've seen that video by now). Well, I too lived on a lake when I lived in Whitehaven, and, while we didn't exactly engage in family bonding by beating up fish, we did catch them and clean them and eat them.
After that quaint vignette, the Palins went kayaking and came upon some otters. I shuddered and put my hands over my face in case she and Bristol started pounding the otters with the kayak paddles or some other weaponry they may have had on them, so I'm not sure what the outcome was on that one. However, I do remember there being otters on the lake where I lived and my father getting them confused with the beavers that chewed all of our trees down and him randomly firing a gun in the direction of all water-loving mammals in sight, so I do think I know just a thing or two about attempted otter murder and I can see where it would fit into my show.
Not the same, though, with Todd Palin's Eskimo relatives. The show trots them out to show what real people the Palins are (more pre-presidential-run publicity), but it appears that Sarah has never met them before. Even though the Palins have a kid with Down syndrome, they hadn't met the other Down syndrome children in the family until the filming of the show. It's like they didn't exist until they were needed for publicity.
I'm trying to work that concept into Tim Sampson's Whitehaven, but so far no luck. I can't find any down-to-earth relatives to showcase. I think they're all dead or in jail. But, since I also grew up in some other desirable suburbs of Memphis, I guess I could expand the show to include Tim Sampson's Frayser and Tim Sampson's Parkway Village. I'll let you know how that works out.
Which leads me to put on my Dr. Phil face and say what has to be said: It's time for Memphis and Shelby County to start seeing other people. We've tried for years to patch things up, to come to some sort of mutual understanding, but we need to admit that we have irreconcilable differences. We don't even know each other any more ...