One just never knows what one will find up here, see up here, do up here, or be visited by up here. Unless it is a relative we never get visitors on purpose, save Big Bear. When an accident occurs and some one does stop by it is usually by someone who is running away from some transgression. For instance…
Bev and I were enjoying a nice cup of tea and some biscuits from her latest recipe of sourdough and lima beans. Much better than it sounds. She happened to glance out our picture window that looks out over the lake to the mountain across lake, when she noticed a ski-plane landing and then begin taxing up to our humble cabin in the woods.
The plane docked and a man emerged and came towards the house. Bev and I had already gotten up to meet the stranger to welcome him. I did not recognize him but he did seem friendly enough. He was about my height, a little heavier, balding and wore some sort of hearing aid. Like I said he was friendly but there was a sadness about him that Bev and I noticed immediately.
As we sat down for tea and our LBB (short for Lima Bean Biscuits) I asked him what he was doing all the way up here. He said he was getting away from people and was seriously thinking of staying up here permanently so as not to be around those who hate him. "Why would anyone hate you," I asked puzzled. He looked at me with some astonishment and said, "Don’t you know who I am?" "No, not really, should I?" "Why I am Rush Limbaugh," He said while sitting up straight and puffing out his chest. It seemed an involuntary jester that he must have done so many times that one always came with the other.
"Oh, I have heard of you. What are you doing up here I thought you were a successful talk show host some place in the lower 48, didn’t you use to be in Kansas City though, worked for the Royals then a radio station there." He replied in the affirmative to all and then added, "Haven’t you been listening to the news?"
I then began to tell him we had very poor radio reception up here, no TV, and the internet was not to be used for personal use since the school district provided it. He then went on to tell me his tale or woe:
"It was just a silly little comment. I called this lady a slut and prostitute, well not technically, but it could have been construed that way. It was just a slip of the tongue and done in jest. Some left wing wacos picked up on it and started a campaign to smear my integrity and used other quotes I made in jest against me also. Like calling Obama a Nazi, Hillary a shrieking wife, environmentalist nuts, feminist ugly, you know just stuff like that. It always gets a good laugh from my followers the Ditto Heads I call them. Well after the drive by media heard me make the remark about this left leaning crazy woman who testified before a congressional hearing called by the democrats a media frenzy erupted. One sponsor dropped me, a mattress company oddly enough, I guess because using the term slut and prostitute, then another and when I left town early yesterday 33 sponsors have left me and a couple of radio stations had drooped me. I am just sick and tired of the whole thing. I want to get away and spend my millions in comfort away from the maddening crowd."
"Well this is the place to do it. You could blend in real well," I told him. "But I don’t think you would like that would you? I mean being some place where no one would know you name, know what you stood for, and didn’t really care? Would you really like that. No Mr Limbaugh I think you ought to return to the lower 48. Your sponsors will forgive you and there will be others lining up to give you money and put you on more airwaves. This is the best thing that could happen to you other than democrats getting elected year after year. Those who love you before your slap at women will love you afterwards. After all they have forgiven you your drug use and four wives, this will all pass."
"Well perhaps you are right, perhaps I will go back and let all this pass. By gosh I will." And with that he got up from the table shook my hand bowed to Bev, who had been fondling her hunting knife she kept in her boot and went off to his airplane.
"You know it will be all your fault don’t you. You have turned the monster loose again." Bev chided.
"Well," I said, "That is one way to look at it. The more he talks the more foolish he sounds to those with half a brain."
"There in lays the problem," Bev said.
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