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Mad Jack: Embarrassing moments just come with the territory

Boy have I ever had some embarrassing moments. You have too, but I’ll never hear about them, most likely. I haven’t decided which I consider my most scene-stealer moment. There was that one time when Little Miss Martha and I had just married and we were crossing the street in Odessa, Texas.

A real “cutie” was coming from the opposite direction wearing the shortest mini-skirt I believe I had ever seen. As we approached the curb and I had done my best to ignore her, I turned at the last moment to get a look and tripped over the curb and fell to my knees.

I don’t know who was embarrassed the most, me or Martha.



In college I joined the choir as an elective. We went somewhere to put on a concert and our first effort was to be “God Bless America”. I wasn’t paying attention and screamed out GOD before we were supposed to begin. Oh, gentle readers, I can be such a klutz at times and I don’t even have to work at it. I remember the time I “preg-checked” a bull that got in with the cows at the cowboys’ delight. No one said a word.

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I did call the bull “open” (not bred) and that’s all that saved my hide. Holy smokes, what if I had called him bred?



I ran for the school board once upon a time and on election day, I stood outside of the voting place, some fifty feet away and greeted folks. Got lots of smiles.

Later I went to the drug store and sat down at the counter of the fountain to get some coffee, when the waitress wanted to know how long my pants had been unzipped.

Great Scott, you can’t make this stuff up!

When son Andy was about three, I took him into Amarillo for a milkshake. We were working our way through the desert while driving along in my old pickup. Andy was standing up in the seat next to me and had taken my hat off and put it back on me, only backwards. I didn’t know it was backwards.

We stopped at a stop sign and I noticed a young girl standing on the curb staring at us. I just figured she thought we were really cute. I was. I looked in the mirror and realized my mustache was dripping Strawberry milkshake and I looked like a mad dog with a cowboy hat on backwards.

Then there was that time I set my face on fire when I stuffed a tissue up my bloody nose on that hot windy Texas afternoon to slow down the bleeding. I then put a smoke in my mouth and lit it only to have it catch the tissue on fire and blow up in my face burning my mustache. I must have looked like Peter Sellers, the Pink Panther.

I was embarrassed for America when I watched one of the recent presidential debates. Mr. Trump, Mr. Rubio and Mr. Cruz acted like petulant third graders.

I bet the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dallas was embarrassed after he endorsed Mr. Trump only to have “the Donald” say, “pastor, (I paraphrase) I’m gonna work like Hell to see that Christians aren’t persecuted.”

I doubt if Jesus and Charlie Manson appeared before the Donald, he wouldn’t know who was who. Just saying. These are just my observations. I am not saying I wouldn’t vote for any of the three, just saying.

Well, children enough said. I’m a little embarrassed for writing this column, but not much. Stay tuned, stay out of trouble, check yer cinch on occasion and please, “God Bless America” and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all. ❖


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