Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, February 20, 1992 TAG: 9202190130
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
BEN SCANS BUSH WRONG; WON'T REPENT
There are some things a man of my standing in the community doesn't like to talk about in public.But a shining example of the written word - such as yours truly here - has a duty to tell the bad along with the good, and here we go.
Recently, I and a number of other shining examples of the written word wronged President Bush.
We did this by portraying him as an elitist BEN BEAGLE who was ignorant of life in the supermarkets of this nation.
The sources of our information were news reports that the president thought supermarket scanners, like the ones all of us in the rabble know so well, were new.
Thus, we wrote that the president knows little of life in this country.
It turns out that the scanner the president liked so much was a new marvel that could read torn price codes on items, and the president was right to call this new technology.
I don't know what the other shining examples of the written word have done, but I apologize to the president.
This is not to say, however, that I expect to meet him anytime soon in the produce section at Winn-Dixie.
I think it is also time for all of you to know that my Cherokee's health is not good.
The rust has started again after the last paint job, and now it seems to be falling apart internally.
One morning recently, the seat belt idiot light on the dash refused to go out, and on the way home the seat belt buzzer came on and buzzed for 20 minutes.
If you have ever driven home with a seat belt buzzer screaming, you will know this is not the way to live.
You want to strike the dashboard with your fist, but I know better than that. I tried that once when a turn signal clicked but wouldn't light up. I hit the dash and knocked out the heater and defroster controls.
The buzzer seems to have died, but the light is still burning.
On another morning, I slammed the driver's side door hard. You have to do this to make sure the door doesn't open when you're driving to work, thereby frightening you nearly to death and causing you to use questionable language.
The slamming caused one of the ceiling lights to fall out. It scared me so bad I just let the light dangle until my nerves got better.
The light is still dangling. I haven't fixed it (a) because I don't know how, and (b) after a while it began to make a statement.
That's just about all the confession I can handle right now.
But if I should meet the president at the liquor store at Cave Spring Corners, you'll be the first to know.