Water Bored - Time On My Hands

By Steve Bussiere

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I ran into Butch, a good friend of mine the other day while I was out and about doing my impersonation of someone with something worthwhile to do.

I like Butch for a lot of good reasons, not the least of which is that he may very well be the only man in Texas who is smaller than I am.

He's not from around here originally either, and is a transplant like me. And like me, he's not leaving either.

I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure it's Chuck's fault, because he plies Butch with cold adult beverages on a routine basis.

Butch is a retired fire fighter, with altogether too much leisure time on his hands. He reads the stuff I write and loves it, so I know he's really bored. He thinks I'm nuts, so I know he's in his right mind still.

I asked Butch what was new and exciting in his world. He told me that he is running for the Water Board.

I told him that I had no idea he was a surfer.

He looked at me as though I was the dumbest person on the planet. Sometimes he kind of reminds me of all of me ex girlfriends, except that no amount of beer would make him look that good.

To me, that is, because he's been married to his wife forever, and I'm sure that she has much better taste than I.

"It's not a surf board Steve, it's the water board."

"I've heard about that Butch. I watch CNN and Andy told me all about it. And I know about the Spanish Inquisition too, from history."

Butch's face contorted and he looked at me like I was a numb skull, again.

"I thought you used to be a fire fighter Butch. You just never struck me as the CIA type, but I guess they train you not to look like one anyway. Part of the training I suppose."

"I suppose you're right Steve." Butch said. "But I have no idea where you're coming from on that."

"You're the one who started talking about water boarding Butch. It's a really cruel torture tactic. What else do you do? Break blind people's pencils and kick the cup out of their hands?"

"I never said water boarding Steve. I said I'm running for the Water Board."

My mind began reeling. I had no idea you could build anything with water, and I wondered what you'd nail it with."

"You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you Steve?" Hey, I grew up in a francophone area, and the French word for nail is clous, which sounds exactly like clue. So I continued trying to figure out how you could nail water together.

"The Water Board manages the Water District Steve."

"So you want to be, like a water cowboy of sorts, right?" I asked him.

I'm no physics expert, but I know that water follows the path of least resistance, so I thought to myself that it sounded like a pretty fruitless pursuit to try and control something that free and aimless.

Butch shook his head in utter disgust.

"What the heck is a water cowboy Steve?"

"Don't ask me Butch, you're the one who wants to be one."

I was having visions of Butch in the saddle with an immense leaf blower strapped to his side, yelling at the water to turn left. It had to be a gas powered one because water and electricity don't mix very well.

Butch was having visions of me being placed into a padded cell.

"So you think you can control water, right?" I asked him.

"Exactly Steve." He answered.

"Well it's useless to try Butch."

"You don't think I can do it Steve?" Butch looked like a hurt puppy.

"No one can do it Butch. Water goes wherever it feels like. It's like trying to control a seventeen year old kid on a testosterone high. Some things just aren't doable Butch. Well, unless you're God."

Butch didn't look anything like I pictured God. I always pictured him as being a lot bigger than Butch or me.

Butch handed me one of his election flyers.

"Read this Steve. You might learn something."

"I sure hope so Butch."

"I have to go pick my wife up from work Steve. I'll talk to you later, after you read the flyer."

Butch walked out the door.

As I watched him leave, I waved at the waitress and ordered a beer. A beer which is water based.

Now that's what I consider controlling water.

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