Lord, Mister Ford

Reading Mista Kleinheider's hilarious story about Congressman Ford's Playa status, made me think of my brief brush with him about a year and a half ago.

Mr. Smiff and group were on the Opry with Dolly. Also scheduled to be present at the Opry that particular evening was Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld (That is his title isn't it?) They held a reception in the back and there were dignitaries out the wazoo. Everywhere you looked there was some such celebrity from Whisperin' Bill Anderson to Jim Cooper to Little Jimmy Dickens to my former Hallbrook neighbor, Marsha Blackburn (back before she was nothing more than the head of the Brentwood Muffia).

In order to go into this little soiree, they had to have your name a number of days before to clear it through the Secret Service, or whoever that stuff goes through. I would bet that was probably the easiest background check they ever did when they ran Sista Smiff through.

Anyhow, I was standing in the line, waiting to get into this happenin' party. Suddenly, I felt this hand on my back and hear this voice, not quite Barry White, but, just about as suave say "Excuse me, Mrs. Smith, you beautiful specimen of a woman." Ok, he didn't really say that last part but he sho nuff looked at my nametag. I babbled something like "Oh I'm sorry", although I doubt it came out that coherently when the Hunka Hunka Burnin' Ford said "You are fine." I was pretty taken with those pretty green eyes of his and felt sorry for him that he was kin to all those other Fords. That one uncle of his is ALWAYS pissed. Everytime they show him on tv, he's madder'n a hornet at whatever reporter is trying to talk to him. Mista Ford has got it going on. Made me swoon. I think we need a Playa in office. Makes things interesting.

By the way, Rumsfeld is very short.