The Sexual Conquests of Calvin Coolidge

When I was a teenage inmate at a state-operated boarding school for crippled kids, which I affectionately refer to as the Sam Houston Institute of Technology (SHIT), the people who helped us get dressed and out of bed and stuff like that were called our houseparents.

There was one housefather whom I particularly admired, at least for a little while anyway. I don’t know if he’s still alive. Probably not. But I will give him a Smart Ass Cripple alias and call him Calvin Coolidge.

Anyway, like I said, there was a period of time when I admired Calvin Coolidge and wanted to be the kind of man he was when I grew up. I felt that way when, as he helped me or my roommates get dressed, he regaled us with detailed accounts of his sexual conquests of the previous night. He was married but he said he’d step out at night and "creep" to the homes of other women whose husbands weren’t home. One time, Calvin Coolidge said, a husband came home by surprise so he had to escape before the husband could detect him by climbing out of a second floor window, buck naked.

I thought all that stuff was so cool. I was about 14, which was old enough to know deep down inside that I could never be the kind of man Calvin Coolidge was because I was crippled. I probably wouldn’t even be able to get into most women’s houses because most houses had stairs at the front door. I would never be able to climb out of second-floor window buck naked either. Hell, I couldn’t even get buck naked unless I had someone like Calvin Coolidge to help me get undressed. What fun was that?

So even though I wanted to be a cool man like Calvin Coolidge I knew I never could be and that hurt.

But then something happened to Calvin Coolidge and he suddenly stopped creeping around. No, he didn’t get the clap. He got into Jesus. Big time. Head over heels. And instead of taking about his sexual conquests, he’d talk about Jesus.

I didn’t want to be like him anymore.


(Smart Ass Cripple is completely reader supported. Purchasing Smart Ass Cripple books at lulu.com and filling the tip jar keeps us going. Please help if you can.)

When Party City Opens Again

We drove through the parking lot of the strip mall. It was pretty much empty. Most of the cars were parked outside the grocery store. People hustled in and out.

Party City, right next door, was closed up tight. But someday, I told myself, that'll all change. There’ll be a lot of cars parked outside of Party City and people will be hustling in and out of there.

When all this quarantine shit in over, there’ll probably be a sudden huge surge in demand for party supplies. And the companies that manufacture supplies for Party City will probably have to retool their lines. Because Party City probably has a ton of stuff in stock that expresses standard celebratory sentiments such as Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas. But I doubt that they have anything that adequately expresses the sentiments of the outbreak of parties that will occur once this quarantine shit is over. The party supply manufacturers will probably have to make a bunch of decorations that just say WHEW!

And there will probably be new shortages. During the quarantine, the stores that are still open are usually out of toilet paper, cleaning products, rubber gloves, etc. But after it’s all over, Party City will probably soon run out of party decorations that just say WHEW!

But maybe not. A lot of people might not feel like partying, especially if they lost a loved one. Nobody would blame them for that. So maybe partying will be considered to be inappropriate, disrespectful or in bad taste and therefore will become an anachronism. Maybe Party City will never open again.

But maybe not. A lot of people died in World War II and when it ended there was dancing in the streets. I wasn’t there but I’ve seen pictures. People hugged and kissed and drank champagne. There were ticker tape parades. So maybe Party City will open again.




(Smart Ass Cripple is completely reader supported. Purchasing Smart Ass Cripple books at lulu.com and filling the tip jar keeps us going. Please help if you can.)

Customer Service Music, Chain Pizza and Democrats

I was on hold with customer service and the music that was playing was so annoying that it reminded me of the democrats. Because what annoyed me most about the music was how hard it was trying not to be annoying. And it was doing so by being painstakingly neutral and non commital. It embraced no genre. No spices, no seasoning. It was desperately afraid of taking a definitive stand, for fear that if it did someone might not like it. It occupied that middle ground in the land of the bland and wouldn’t dare take a step beyond. It didn’t want to lead the way toward any new direction. It just wanted to play it completely safe. The democrats annoy me in the same way.

And you know what kind of other music really gets me wound up? It’s that music that’s specifically designed to help people relax. I’m talking about that stuff where they mix in gongs and wind chimes, maybe some flutes. And you’re supposed listen to it while you’re trying to unwind. But it gets me all wound up because why not just listen to a good jazz piano trio or something like that? There's plenty of music already out there that’s soothing as hell without beating you over the damn head about it. That gong and wind chime music has the same effect on me as someone picking me up and shaking me and shouting in my face, “RELAX GODDAMIT!”

But anyway, back to the democrats. Chain pizza also reminds me of the democrats for the same reason customer service hold music reminds me of the democrats. I’m offended by chain pizza because it, too, goes way out of its way not to be about anything so as not to offend anyone. And I find that to be very offensive. Just like the democrats.


(Smart Ass Cripple is completely reader supported. Purchasing Smart Ass Cripple books at lulu.com and filling the tip jar keeps us going. Please help if you can.)