Maggie and I have been walking around the little 'parks' here in Georgia. We're sorely disappointed with the 'recreational' system in the South. It seems that 'recreation' must only consist of soccer and baseball. There are no wide swaths of land to rollick in. There are no ash-ridden barbeque pits. There are no lopsided picnic tables. There is a dirt path that goes from one soccer field to the next. Maggie and I made it to an unused soccer field and decided to sit down at the goal net. We were going to chew some grass and weave dandelions into the net when a short woman ran across the field. Maggie and I were impressed because the woman was wearing pumps--albeit sensible pumps--but running in a knee length tailored Brooks Brother suit and sensible pumps is a feat worth witnessing.

"You can't sit here!" the woman screamed at us.
Maggie harrumphed through her trunk.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because this is only for SOCCER, not for ne'erdowells, such as yourself and this elephant!"
"But no one is using the field," I protested.
"Doesn't matter. Only soccer players here," the woman said while tucking her perfectly coiffed old-lady cut behind an ear.
"We pay taxes," I said. Maggie has not budged; indeed she is leaving a rather large goal beneath the net while all of this is going on.
"I don't CARE at ALL about you or your taxes or your pachyderm! You have to move!" The woman whispered something about 'filthy hippy pro-choicers'.
That's when I recognized the woman.

"Hey, you're that chick that Bush is trying to get appointed to the Supreme Court!" I said. Maggie bleated. She didn't sound too happy.

"Miers. The name is Miers," Harriet Miers said.

"So, when you are on the Supreme Court, are you going to make sure no one EVER steps onto a soccer field unless they are a soccer player?" I asked. "No," she replied, fingering her pearls, "I'm going to make sure women will not be able to get abortions."

"Oh," I said. "Are you a judge?"

"No," she said. She looked peeved.

"So, are you going to get a crash course in objectivity?" I asked, patting Maggie's rough skin.

"No," she said, "What's objectivity?"

"It's this thing where...even though you personally feel that people who don't play soccer should not be on soccer fields, you won't make them get off the soccer fields, because it is your duty to not let personal choices get in the way of your political choices," I instructed.

"Ha!" she cackled. "Like THAT is ever gonna happen! Hell, no! I intend to use my seat as a Supreme Court Justice to malign and destroy the pro-choice movement! I intend to put GOD back into the schools and possible discuss prohibition of alcohol! I am going to make sure that every WHORE who considers abortion be burned at the stake! I am going to do all that I can to kill off wildlife species which are endangered, and I am also going to try to get Bush crowned King!"

That bitch was so ugly, Maggie 'accidentally' swung her rear into the woman's head. Needless to say, we're still sitting at the soccer field.

It's hard walking an elephant.