A Letter From Bubba.
by Christopher Jackson

Hey Dave, this-here’s Bubba.

Summer’s our busy season at the A/C repair shop, so Roy, Dad, and me’re all hoppin’, and the phone’s ringing right offa Joanne’s desk. It was a real fight to get both the Fourth and Founder’s Day, back-to-back like that, and I still had to carry my phone. Worse, I’m not going to get a Saturday off again until Jesus comes back.

But it was worth it.

It looked like the whole town turned out for the parade and presentation of the colors by the high school drill team. When Cheryl
and Larry’s oldest, Dana, lead the crowd in the Star-Spangled Banner, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Nobody even yelled, “Gentlemen, Start Your Engines”. Then, Mayor accepted the key to the city on behalf of the Buell family. I know we’re proud of our heritage here in Slow River, but isn’t that a little hokey, even for us? Next, it was over to the VFW hall for spare ribs, topped off with a fried Snickers bar.

Later, I headed over to The Rebel Yell for the evening. I got parked next to some foreign dude; said his name was Paul, I think. Probably some kind of reporter, or critic, the way he kept writing, look up, smirking at the locals, and looking back down at his notebook. Did he even come to watch the show? It was all I could do to tear my eyes off the stage long enough to tell Crystal to keep the beers coming.

I am now officially a Domino Girls fan. Lay aside that they look like everything a good man has to pray about for even thinkin’. There’s something special about those two – differ’nt. They made music like the Simon Cowell feller ain’t never heard. Even when they got a little off in left field during the second set, the whole house went with them. I got to admit; by the end of that, I was pretty lit. Bryan called the cab for me, and just nodded when I said that I couldn’t find my wallet, and that I’d take care of my tab next time.

I sure wish I’d have been able to see the third set, but I gotta be up with the chickens tomorrow. Dang shame, too. I bet their closing act could’a raised the dead.