Kyle City Limits
by BRENDA STEWART
I’ve never been a fan of piñatas. There is something absolutely disconcerting about those frozen faces and dark eyes staring vacantly out at me. I remember the shredded paper characters dangling from the backyard mesquites of every kid’s birthday party in the Valley. Filled with cheap candy, it was our duty to literally whack the stuffing out of it with a long stick, slamming into it over and over until it lay in a broken, unrecognizable heap.
And it made me wonder if I even need to address Rick Perry as a presidential candidate anymore.
Predictably he is mired in the process of relegating himself to obscure foot notation now that his bravado has worn thin in the upper 49. I had been curious, though, at what point his campaign would be hard-pressed enough to trot out Anita in an attempt to lend an air of legitimacy to her husband’s flaccid campaign.
Years ago I read that she silently supported his crusade to make the HPV vaccine cost-effective for every young female in this state (which would have been a benevolent gesture had Perry not been hell-bent on turning a fat buck off of it).
Knowing that she championed women’s issues professionally, I wondered if she was stealthly pro-choice like her predecessor in the gov’s mansion. It was so hard to read the stoic facade behind those massive bee-eyed sunglasses she donned on the rare occasion she stood behind Perry at the podium.
And, sure enough, a couple of weeks ago, the day of reckoning came and they unleashed their secret campaign weapon: the first lady of Texas.
Unfortunately, Anita then proceeded to evoke Moses and the burning bush and private conversations with God in addressing her role in Rick’s path to the White House.
Then, with a straight face (and I’m not sure she has any other), she attempted to appear sympathetic to the plight of the nation’s unemployed by asserting that their son’s recent job “loss” was a product of the Obama administration. In reality, Griffin Perry resigned his bank job to hop on his dad’s campaign wagon.
But the real kicker: Anita, in her persecution paranoia, asserted that she and her husband have been chewed up, beaten and brutalized not only by the press, but by Rick’s opponents and the Republican party itself (I guess that lets those flaming liberals and sundry Democrats off the hook for a change).
The sad fact of the matter is that, after being legitimately scrutinized, Perry is being routinely ignored these days, hence the impetus for handing Anita a microphone.
So, I keep seeing Perry the piñata, with that frozen stare, dangling in the breeze, waiting for someone to take a swing at him.
To be fair though, I suppose we should conjure up a more fitting Texas adage like, Why don’t we stop beating this dead horse? Or, stick a fork in him. He’s done.
