My first guest columnist
(... die, and I'll publish you too... maybe.)
"Who are you? Who are you? I know you're someone. Who are you?"
I was drunk and addressing my interrogatories to Maxie Rizley,
a member of the Net Wits and one of the many humor writers attending
the The Net Wits convention in Austin last year.
Staring at Maxie, I knew I should know the guy from somewhere,
but where? Was he a columnist? Or was he the midget I hired for my
presentation the next night? After all, he was short, thin and kind of
frail looking. Who was he?
The next day I found out who he was. Maxie Rizley was a nice,
sincere gentleman. A gentle man, if you will. He was so nice, I was
embarrassed to be around him, for fear I'd accidentally insult the guy.
Here's how it is with me: if you deserve it (and that's my call) I will
fuck with you unmercifully, no matter who you are. But if you're
genuinely nice and sincere, like Maxie Rizley, you'll have me
completely baffled. And not only will I leave you alone, I will try to
avoid you at all costs.
Because the nice and sincere people of the world scare the
living shit out of me.
After the convention, I subscribed to Maxie's column and soon
learned who he was -- he was something, all right. Well-written,
literate, the consummate journalist. No, he wasn't as wild as I am. And
no, he wasn't as funny as I am either. He was just a damn good writer.
Two days ago, November 28, at age 45, Maxie Rizley died from
complications during surgery. On dialysis for years, he wrote last week
to say "his arm exploded." It didn't seem life-threatening to me at the
time, but then it's 2001 -- the whole fuckin' year is life-threatening.
We'll miss you Maxie. So in your honor, I'm ripping off one of
your columns and publishing it on my Web site. Would you expect
anything less from me?
Me, Claudia Schiffer, and Saving The World
by Maxie Rizley
Ah, to be king of the world, if just for a day!
Oh, I know it's only a remote possibility. But I do keep a
shoebox-full of decrees that would become the law of the land the
moment I ascended the throne.
After all, you just never knows when you might be sorting your
Jockey shorts in the laundromat, and a comet collision kills all life
on Earth but you and Claudia Schiffer. And you are faced with the
awesome responsibility of re-establishing the Rule of Law, and of
re-populating ... ahem.
Right. Re-establishing the Rule of Law. Okay.
My first and foremost Royal Edict would be: That emergency
flashers on all civilian vehicles shall be restricted to actual
"emergency" use.
Let's take a look at this word, "emergency," shall we?
Emergency" means "trouble-with-a-capital-T," as in "my engine
just blew up," or "there's a yellowjacket buzzing around in here and
ONE of us is bailing out. Now!"
Royal Edict No. 2: People who ride in early carpools
shall be required to be standing outside, lunchbox in hand, shaved,
showered and ready to go, just as soon as their ride slows down enough
for them to jump in.
I mean, I'm thrilled that my upstairs neighbor has reliable
transportation to work, but having that transportation arrive on the
dot of 5 o'clock every morning and LEEEEAAAAN on his HOOOOOORRRRRNNN
right under my window is starting to get just a little old.
Royal Edict No. 3: Radio stations shall, at peril of
their licenses, issue air traffic reports to their conclusion and not
cut them off in mid-fender-bender just to squeeze in another commercial.
Look. I drive the Gulf Freeway into and out of Houston three
days a week, and what I don't need to hear is " ... and you inbounders
on the Gulf Freeway, an overturned tanker truck is spewing flaming
gasoline across all six lanes at... BURGERBOX 24-HOUR DRIVE-THRU, WHERE
WE REALLY MOVE OUR BUNS FOR YOU!"
And in a codicil to Royal Edict No. 3: TV stations
shall be a little more selective on their "breaking news" cut-ins.
As in, don't interrupt "Law and Order" just as the jury
foreman clears his throat and says, "Your Honor, we find the
defendant..." with Breaking! News! Live! SuperZoomHeliCam! coverage of
a grass fire in a Pearland cow pasture -- that was already put out
before Breaking! News! Etc.! Etc.! was able to Go Live!
And Royal Edict No. 4: Once Claudia and I had ... um
... made government necessary again, I would make it a High Crime and
Misdemeanor for ANYONE to utter the words "bipartisan" or
"bipartisanship."
No, Virginia, there is no such creature. "Bipartisan" it is an
oxymoron; the "bi" is canceled out by the "partisan." Good Lord, don't
we realize by now that Democrats are Democrats and Republicans are
Republicans, and ne'er the twain shall meet? (Probably all for the
better -- this country's got problems enough when the two parties are
at odds. Dare we even imagine what sort of mischief they might make if
they actually got together?)
Oh, there's lots of other things I'd do if I ruled the world,
believe me. I'd bring back 8-ounce Coke bottles and the machines that
dispense them at a dime each, outlaw beverages combining coffee and any
foreign words or phrases, do away with those new blinding blue car
headlights, and compel restaurants in the Southwest to serve kale --
steamed with a little bacon and butter -- as an actual menu choice, and
not just tease us with it as a salad-bar decoration.
But for now, your Ruler of the World has to sort his socks.
Copyright 2001 by Maxie Rizley, Jr.
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STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything
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