It was a work around the house Saturday and after I completed a few chores out in the hot morning sun, I developed a cravings mostly associated with pregnant women. I put the to-do list on the kitchen table and steamed up a dozen oysters left over from Friday night’s party. That didn’t satisfy my cravings so I ate some leftover fried okra – cold. Then I remembered that there was some ice cream in the freezer. I finished that off and retired to the sofa feeling a little ill. In a short time, I dozed off into never, never land. I was in a trance like snooze. My mind was still active in a manner that made me feel both asleep and awake. All that happened next, I attribute to the time I spent in morning sun and the turmoil going on in my stomach. It seemed I rose from the sofa to turn on the television set, an act which assured me that this was a dream because I’m a remote control kind of guy.

The Jerry Springer show was just beginning:

“My guests today,” Springer was saying, “are all here to reveal their most guarded secrets. My first guest is a nationally known radio personality. A man who often boasts about performing on his radio show with half of his brain tied behind his back.”

Springer does a double take with the card he is reading from and forms an incredulous look on his face as he lets out a faint snicker. “We’ll never know what that would look like since he performs on the radio. But, my producer informed me that were I to listen to his show, I’d be able to tell that half his brain was, indeed, tried behind his back. Please welcome, America’s fieriest political conservative, Rush Limbaugh.”

The audience howls with delight as Rush Limbaugh trudges out his three hundred pound hub, waves to the audience and the camera and takes his seat. Springer returns his eyes to the idiot card.

“It says here that you’ve got a big secret you want to reveal to your fans, and that this secret has nothing to do your past drug problem or your three ex-wives.”

“That’s right Jerry,” Limbaugh says.

“First I’ve got to tell my audience that in order to get you on the show, we had to agreed not to discuss your past problem with drug dependency or your multiple divorces but I must ask you Rush…”

Article Author: Horace Mungin

1968 was the year that I published my first boardside volume of poetry in a book entitled "Dope Huslter's Jazz." 1968 was the year that the world came into view and inaction was no longer possible for me. …

Visit Horace Mungin's author page — Horace Mungin's Blog