The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Sunday, October 29, 2006

I Knew John Pelphrey, And You Sir, Are No John Pelphrey

With all these political ads on television, I have been in a somewhat political mood. Now, some people think I am really liberal and some people think I am really conservative. I think I am somewhat left of moderate, but that isn't the point of this post. The point is to tell my absolute favorite story about my best friend John. Now, I know, the story would be so much better if it happened to me and was in the first person, but it isn't. Since this happened way back in 1992, I figure it is fair game. So enjoy...

John moved to Owensboro sometime in the summer of 1992. I am not exactly sure when because I didn't meet him until that fall in Mrs. Church's English class. Anyway, John was new in town, he was a preacher's kid, and a sousaphone player. Do you know what that is? That is a deadly combination when it comes to the ladies. He was kinda like Kevin Bacon in Footloose, except switch a VW Bug for a Chevy Cavalier, which also helps with the ladies.

So way back in 1992, the political atmosphere was electric with the election between Bill Clinton and George H. W. Bush, back when he was just George Bush. Well, Kentucky was slowly becoming a red state (or maybe it is a blue state, I never can remember those state colors) and was a very big battleground state. Well, Al Gore came to Owensboro for a rally to whip the Southern Democrats as only he can, and then the next day, the vice-president, Dan Quayle, came to town.

John, being the buttoned down, Republican, sousaphone player that he was, went down to the Dan Quayle rally to show his support of a politician that in the past 16 years has faded into obscurity. Well, evidently the crowd was at a fever pitch when a few protesters started yelling at Quayle. John happened to be pretty close to one of the protesters. He began to scream at this protester. He called him all kinds of names, and one can only assume of a few of them happened to mention the fact that the protester had a few earrings. Probably said something about his orientation that would make Michael Scott from The Office proud. But the fact of the matter is that John was face to face with a protester calling him a queer commie right before Owensboro's finest escorted the protester away from the crowd for his own good.

Later that night, John had a date with a girl named Allison, the drum major in the band. What can I say, sousaphone players just roll like that, they are P-I-M-P pimps. Well, John went to go pick Allison, who by the way even though he is married and this entire event happened almost half our lifetime ago I still bust him on going out with her. Well, this nice young Republican boy rings the doorbell at Allison's house.

Guess who opens the door?

That's right, you guessed it, the protester.

To his credit, the protester, a guy named Chris who was Allison's stepfather, never said anything to John. John never did find out if Chris recognized him. I think he did, but I am sure he was called a lot of things by lot of different people that day. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. The only thing I know is that it made John squirm. And that doesn't happen very often. And it makes me laugh...


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