There’s always something special about summer in Fort Stockton, especially around the 4th of July. It’s kind of like Christmas in the heat, but without all the running around shopping for gifts.
The hot weather brings out the Daisy Dukes and halter tops. The display of styrofoam coolers stacked to the ceiling over at the Piggly Wiggly and cases of Lone Star beer forming a big Alamo in the Produce Department just gets everybody in the mood for fireworks hot dogs on the grill. Someone pointed out to Chad, the Interim Manager over at the Pig, that the Alamo doesn’t really have anything to do with American Independence, but Mrs. Drury and the stock boys had worked on it till well past midnight and they damn sure weren’t going to take it down.
Lucinda makes a pretty big deal of the holiday the whole month of July over at the Grounds for Divorce. She wears what she calls her “Betsy Ross Outfit” every day of the month, and offers a free piece of “Stars-N-Bars” cake with every cup of Folgers. “The only thing better would be Mayor Goodman being pictured behind those bars,” is what a lot of folks say, but then it isn’t the dessert they’re coming in for, anyway.
In the big lead up to the fireworks display over on the football field at Jim Bowie High, “Home of the Fightin’ Knives”, people line the streets for the annual parade. Toots Willacy is in the lead car this year, as nobody was sure if the mayor would be available, what with sentencing and all. “We’ve already got enough clowns in the parade, anyway,” Sister Thelma said under her breath. She’s normally not political but the mayor being found guilty of trying to buy the silence of the strippers over at the Scuttlebutt Strip Club stuck in her craw like a mudbug.
Everyone’s hoping there isn’t a repeat of the incident on the Barnaby’s Barber Shop parade float that happened last year. In an attempt to drum up business and patriotism, Barnaby enlisted the help of Private Raul Rufugio to sit in a chair and reenact the buzz cut he received when he first enlisted. Turns out that Mayor Goodman had used the funds set aside to fix the potholes over on Governor John Connolly Boulevard to buy a whole truckload of red white and blue MAKE FORT STOCKTON GRATE AGAIN to hand out during the cheese festival last spring. The potholes never got fixed. When Barnaby’s float hit the hole the razor slipped and took off most of Private Rufugio’s right ear.
Spectators lining both sides of the street thought it was just part of the display and nobody rushed to help. The street became so slippery that the float following Barnaby’s, sporting the theme, ‘Let Your Light Shine’, couldn’t get traction and the Funderburg girl dressed as the Statue of Liberty fell off her perch and into the private’s blood pooling in the pothole. Mrs. Drury commented, “From what I hear, it’s not the first time she’s been covered in bodily fluids spilled from privates.”
Luckily by the time Rusty Hammer’s entry, ‘Don’t be Lured in by the Left’ went past the pothole the drama was mostly over. Rusty’s bass boat, bedecked in full regalia honoring both fishing and the 4th, barely skirted the rule of not allowing political statements by his argument that the best fishing is always on the right side of the lake. That argument was about as murky as the right side of the lake during spawning season. The crowd broke out into applause when Newt, Rusty’s ol’ chocolate lab, hiked his leg and shot a stream right at New Guy as the float went by. Poor New Guy can’t catch a break. “I was just glad to have a little relief from the heat,” he told the reporter from the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch when interviewed shortly thereafter.
Come to think about it, last year was kind of a disaster all the way around. Jumpin’ Jack had begged the city fathers to let him make one last jump before he retired for good. Back in his younger days, Jack had earned quite the reputation for his daring motorcycle jumps all around Southwest Texas. He was in the Guinness Book of World Records for jumping over the tallest pile of dead feral hogs back in the early 2000’s. He nearly broke the record for jumping the widest point of the Rio Grande River, but the Texas National Guard shot out his tires on takeoff, thinking he might be an illegal just trying to get home. The resulting flat tires completely threw off the trajectory of the launch and he wound up only about twelve feet from the Texas shore. He’s still in court with the Attorney General’s office trying to get compensation, but it’s been better than six years and most folks don’t think he stands a chance.
But before he completely retired, he wanted to make one more attempt at the record books. He wanted to be recognized for making the longest jump over a string of school buses in an RV while his wife cooked breakfast on the camp stove behind him. It was a pretty specific record to be going for, but the boys over at Guinness eventually caved in and sent a couple people to witness and record the event.
Jumping’ Jack spent a lot of time fine-tuning his converted ’51 Chevy RV. He’d rotated all six of the tires and tweaked the 327 cubic inch V8 for maximum thrust at takeoff. He filled the gas tank with High-Test fuel for maximum thrust and both propane tanks for whatever recipe his wife might decide on. Meanwhile, Claudette, his wife of nearly 24 days, was going through her recipe book looking for what she thought would be the lightest recipes to prepare in the quickest amount of time. By the time dusk approached at the Jim Bowie High stadium, the effects of a full day of drinking beer and being in the sun had the crowd worked up into a patriotic frenzy.
While the Rotary Club and town council worked to finish putting the fireworks display together, all the spotlights in town were trained on Jumping’ Jack and his ’51 Chevrolet 4400. Folks were hootin’ and hollerin’ as Jack revved the RV. With the bright lights in his eyes and bacon smoke filling the cab of the truck, Jack gunned the 327 and headed for the ramp, not realizing that Clovis, the janitor at JBH had lined up the school buses bumper to bumper rather than side by side. Folks could tell before the Chevy ever hit the front of the ramp that there was no way he was ever going to make it and yelled at Jack, ” ABORT!” That riled up Brother Bob and his group who started yelling something back, not having a full understanding of the situation. Between the crowd yelling at each other, and the loud speaker playing Lee Greenwood’s Proud to be an American at full blast, Jumping Jack put the pedal to the metal.
“Not really a bad way to go,” Chad said the next day at the Grounds for Divorce. “With all your friends in attendance and cheering for you.” Jack’s wife survived the jump. Her soufflé was ruined, but folks said the bacon was great, if you like it extra crisp.
In a move that was either in poor taste, or just ironic, the attorney general sent a floral wreath consisting of all black carnations in the shape of two motorcycle tires to the Bridges Funeral Home for the viewing. Sister Thelma was disgusted by the whole thing, but Rusty saluted the arrangement as he went by to pay his final respects.
Anyway, everyone’s hoping for a more modest display of patriotism this year. Maybe something a little more ‘Home of the Free’ oriented and a little less ‘We’ll Put a Boot in Your Ass’. Word is that Private Refigio will be there to lead the crowd in the National Anthem, providing the band will be on his left side, so he can hear it.
8 responses to “JUMPIN’ JACK FLASH”
I am personally looking forward to the inauguration of a president rather than a coronation of a king.
I don’t think Lucinda ever wields that spatula over a live fire, the hairy knuckles are a dead giveaway. Pro-tip, cooking over a live fire is a great solution for taking care of hairy palms.
Wishing a safe and happy Independence Day to CMC and all the readers here.
Luchina of the magnificent dagmars can wield her spatula any way she wants, especially when wearing THAT waitress get up . . .
Spoken like a true patriot.
One thing that’s never been made clear is whether the Fort Stockton Supreme Court has ruled is whether Mayor Goodman is eligible to appear on the ballot in this year’s election or even able to serve if he gets the most votes. (Of course, a lot depends on their other ruling on whether the IQ-enhanced feral hogs incarcerated at the Pecos County Agriculture detention facility will remain eligible to vote.)
Based on what I’ve read in the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch, and what has been verified standing around the nail bin over at the Rusty Hammer Hardware Store, the traffic court and Justice of the Peace have all signed off on Mayor Goodman being able to run. The fact that he appointed half of them, (certainly the ones that ruled in his favor), is not lost on those who consider him unfit.
Such is the state of politics in small backwater southwest Texas towns. Luckily that could never happen in a real national election that had long-term implications.
The IQ-enhanced feral hogs incarcerated at the Pecos County Agriculture detention facility could well determine Fort Stockton’s future.
Holy Cow….there is Mike our local Morro Bay barber in a CmC story! Now he has made the big time!!
Poor Private Refugio: the worst part, according to unnamed sources, is that some of the funds were indeed used for pothole repairs.
And Mayor Goodman threatened legal action against anyone who claimed otherwise.
But what he left out was that the repair work was done exclusively on the roads that went from city hall to his residence, and from there to the Scuttlebutt.