Gop Turns to Taco Bell

Washington, DC: The Republican Party, in a sudden shift to a more moderate policy, has turned to the mass appeal of Taco Bell to help with their new stance on immigration.

Former Republican nominee Mitt Romney issued a statement.

 “My fellow Americans, in the wake of our devastating loss of the Hispanic vote, I’m shorting the collection plate this week and buying the franchise. You want all inclusive. I’ll give you all inclusive. You want stuff. I’ll give you stuff…tacos, enchiladas… more margarita nights, not just on Thursday, all the days that ends in “Y”.

Democratic strategist Manuel Labor refuted the comment saying, “This is just another lame attempt by the Republican Party to try and politicize a menu item, far reaching its gastronomical effect on the American people. Good God, is one’s digestive system now a political issue?”

Mr. Labor, after making that statement, was caught turning to his assistant and saying in a whisper, “Romney, what an idiot. He should have offered the chimichanga.”

This and more later today.

 

Veterans Day 2012

 

            The Germans could never see us, crouched low, eyes just above the grass. They were looking, too, scanning the French countryside for the inferior Americans they would kill if had a chance. Oh, we were scared, petrified. If the Germans didn’t kill us my mother would have if we destroyed her award winning azaleas.

            That was the extent of my combat experience, child’s play, picking who would be a sergeant, corporal, or general. Born in 1960 I had the luxury of not being thrusted into the fighting. I did reach eighteen in 1978, the first year the government reinstated signing up for the draft. I remember going to the post office with high school buddies to sign the card. I certainly wasn’t worried about paying the ultimate price for my country. I was going to be an opera singer.

            Today, I do understand the ultimate price, dying, never to see your wife, your children grow up, your brother who protected you, the sister who gave you the girls point of view, the grandparents who spoiled you, the uncle who took you fishing, the aunt who when getting off the bus you ran to, anticipating the present, the father who instilled “never say can’t”, “never quit”, “suck it up”, “shake it off”, or the mother who’s azaleas did get "me" in a heap of trouble.

            Today, let’s thank those who are serving, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, and The National Guard.

Hell, if you use Right Guard, today,  I’m thanking you.

 

Good Luck on Tuesday

by: Larry Hyatt

The grand election is Tuesday,

I hope it’s not a booze day.
To each his own,
Who’ll gain the throne?
Well, both sides say it's doomsday.

I can’t remember a day,

When the election went away,
They don’t anymore,
And in four score,
They’ll all be back to say,

“It’s change we need,”
“For it I’ll bleed,”
“We’ve had enough,”
“The times are tough.”
“Lean forward,” 
“Backward,”
“Wait a minute. We’re in the wrong direction.”

They’ve said this crap since I’ve been born,
I’m told was with a C-section.

“It’s the election of our lifetime,”
This time it could be true.
But I am old and what of the young?
And to whom they’re talking to?

Barack, Romney, Romney, Barack,
It’s your decision to make.
Who will be our commander- in- chief?
Our lives will be at stake.

Do pull the lever on Tuesday,
Or push the computer screen,
Your vote will count,
Whichever way,
Someone is going to scream.

Selling Yourself

The bio on this blog says I suck as a businessman but the gentleman, who recently had me look again into the pain, doesn’t read my blog.
He’s a fellow media person, a sports writer with a sports related magazine. I met him when I hosted a sports related television show:

“Larry, I have a great business opportunity for you. Just give me twelve minutes of your time.”

“It’s just that I’m not a good sales person,” I stressed. “I’ve tried it over and over again. I just don’t like it.”

“Hey, I don’t like selling either. That’s why I do this. Let me drop off a DVD at the station.”

“OK, I’ll take a look.”

And I did, because every time I left the media, entertainment, or creative part of my life, it was to make plenty of money. That’s what I’ve never had in my life. (Luckily, my wife doesn’t spend money. She’s tighter than two coats of paint.)

My friend had a great product, a new one, which makes me mad at myself for not taking him up on the offer but I’ve come to the conclusion, I’m tired of trying to convince people to do something. I’m a buyer’s sales person. Everyone should get a deal and forget about haggling. I’d cave and give you money to take it off my hands.

Believe me, I wasn’t this way as a kid. I sold flower seeds to save enough money to buy a bb gun. After that I baked cakes and went door to door in the neighborhood to raffle it off, had the usual passé lemonade stand, and sold cup cakes out of the back door of my house. Little kids would come knocking at the door, look from side to side, and ask my mother, “Larry got any cup cake?” It was like a drug deal that ended with a sugar high. What the hell happen to me? That kid is long gone.

Could it be somewhere between wanting money to be happy and needing money to be happy, I lost my drive to go for the money? I can’t be alone?

Good Lord, how can a person who sucks at selling, sell themselves?

Open Letter to The Tri-parish

By: Larry Hyatt.


Recently I celebrated the 31st anniversary of me leaving my boyhood home to “try” and find my fortune. I remember thinking I was moving to the "Try-Parish,” to give it a whirl, and like many my stay was not to be extended. My stint was going to be nine short months.

In my New Orleans’ suburban driveway I said, “I’m going to be OK mom, I’m only going down there to learn the radio business. I’m coming back, I swear. I’m going to be the next Walton and Johnson.”

Not knowing who they were and a bit confused, she put her hand on my shoulder and asked, “Is that two people, son? There’s only one of you.” Then, she rolled her eyes.

That didn’t stop me.

I jumped into a just bought, beat up Chevy Impala with a side swipe so bad you couldn’t open either door on the passenger side. I kid you not. The entire right side was crushed shut. It was $500.00 and it leaked like a sieve. When it rained the windshield wipers pushed the water up to the crease where the glass meets the metal. With each swipe water would fall on my lap. Friends would eventually ride in the back seat with an open umbrella.

That night I started on KJIN-1490AM, when a show called the “Swap Shop” was the number one rated show. Back then each small town had its own radio station and disc jockeys were always in the building. The music couldn’t play on its own.

Driving down to Houma I had it all planned, every step, every move, learn the business, go back home, get a radio job and be a radio star. But Tri-Parish, you ruined it. You ruined everything.

From the very beginning, that very first night, you opened your arms and rapped them around me hugging so tight I just couldn’t shake you. With each passing month your grip got stronger. I tried to stay my distance, keep my head down, lifting it only to push you away, but over and over again you kept telling me of your history, showing your love of family, and laughing out loud. My god, the laughter was deafening. Never before had I laughed so hard. And the clincher, you weren’t afraid to be seen having a good time. You always acted as if no one’s looking. I heard, “If deh gonna talk, deh gonna talk. What I’m gonna do, me.”

How dare you change the lives of those just passing through?

Through the years I’ve known many you’ve changed or perhaps enlightened. We’ve come from all across the country, oilfield men and their families, teachers, students, transplants and their spouses, all not knowing that here in Cajun Country is where one might find room and once rooted, could get caught up in what I now know, is heritage.

Or possibly you’re a conspirator. You’ve learned that if we, “TRY-Parish” we will linger longer, be loved, and learn how life can be led in a place that knows what it is like to live life to the fullest. Your ancestors were driven out of their home. Maybe it’s hardwired. You don’t want others to feel unloved.

It’s quite remarkable how life works out, or doesn’t, taking us on a path with the family we’re born into, people we’re lucky enough to meet, decisions we make, or indecisions we’re fortunate enough to have.

“Damn it! This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m going to leave you, I swear, tomorrow.”

Dueling Divas

By Larry Hyatt


London, England: In an unprecedented attempt to seem once again relevant and garner more publicity after exposing her nipple and baring her butt on stage, Madonna has agreed to let bygones be by gone… days gone by, and embrace Lady Gaga as the superstar talent she is. The Madonna/Gaga tour is in now the works.

Breast falls to the floor.

After putting her breast rightfully back in her bra following an exposure incident at a concert in Istanbul, Madonna damaged more concert goers’ eyes by exposing her bare buttocks to the concert crowd in London. In an English accent, not understandable to English born citizens, Madonna praised Lady Gaga but stated she will not go so far as to wear a meat dress at the upcoming America shows as Gaga did. Rumors are swirling that Madonna has indeed tapped Chef Rachel Ray to design a rip off of a Versace design involving soup and salad.

Lady Gaga-just gaga.

Upon hearing the Material Girls’ kudos, Lady Gaga was quoted as saying, “To be accused of stealing someone’s shtick, then having them verify my place in pop culture is enough to make me want to steal more. Besides, she stole too. There are only eight notes in a musical scale and she’s used them all as well.”

The butler really did it this time.

“Good God almighty” and “For Christ’s sake” are words I remember from my childhood. My Irish/Catholic mother used them quite often to express shock and delirium. So, when she heard the Pope’s butler recently started exposing Vatican secrets she went into Novena mode. She would have done a “Way of the Cross” but she was saving that till she knew what the butler said.


What we know so far.

When you go to kiss the Pope’s ring he can make it squirt water.

When the Pope flys from country to country his hat can be used as a flotation device.

The Pope Mobile has a smoking section.

St. Peter’s Square was originally designed as parallelogram.

The Pope's staff really belonged to Claude.

When the Pope kisses the ground he’s showing reverence to that country and its people, while spitting out the in flight food.

I can hear my mom already.