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OJ Simpson

Today was beautiful. Perfect temperature, just a hint of a breeze, leaves turning colors. It was the kind of day that you step out in and you felt that all is right with the world. Anthrax was just a band and Afgans were just a crappy blankets that Grandma crocheted.

So I stepped right out into the day. I grabbed my wife and kid and set off to buy some organic berries at the local co-op. Throughout our little town, the Good People were gardening, playing ball and just generally soaking up the mellow vibe of this perfect sunny day.

My son caught the feel-good vibe too. He pointed to every dog, cat, bird, car, and ball and babbled happily in his emerging tongue. And what should we see on the way to the co-op? What could make this beautiful day even better? That’s right, boys and girls – a train!

We stopped at the tracks and the train ambled by. My kid was thrilled. The engineer waved and we pointed out everything we could to my son. His huge happy eyes took it all in.

My wife murmured -“See the blue boxcar? See the brown refrigerator car? See flatcar?”

I suppose I should have just left well enough alone. I shouldn’t have read the graffiti out loud. But there it was; a message was scrawled in four-foot high yellow letters across a boxcar –

I said, “See the boxcar? It says ‘OJ Simpson sucks white bitch ass Uncle Tom.’”

Another perfect day, shot to Hell.