Lettuce - Speaker - Jar

Speakers were lined up along the all like so many soldiers, waiting their turn to speak.  One was going to talk about how iceberg lettuce was so nutritionally poor that even rabbits wouldn't eat it.  Another was going to talk about spaghetti sauce that came in a jar and how wonderful it was not to have to cook all day.

At least, that's what the plan WAS.  the was it turned out, though, was that one little tiny old lady, who couldn't have been more than 4'10" in her stockinged feet got up and began to speak about the power of vacuum cleaners and how a vacuum cleaner could lead you to Christ if you would only listen.

Well, that pretty much ticked off the Evangelical Right and the Conservative Left all at the same time.  Nobody gave her a chance to explain what she meant, and I, for one, was terribly sorry to see her ushered off the stage in such an unceremonious manner.  I mean, one big burly guy picked up one arm, and another big burly guy picked up the other, and out she went, little tiny legs not even touching the floor and hollering all the while.

The convention was pretty boring after that.  The speaker who wanted to speak about spaghetti talked instead about lasagna.  The speaker who was scheduled to talk about lettuce ended up talking about rabbits instead, of which she seemed to have an exceptionally high number.

I wandered out in the hall after the speaker who was scheduled to expound on the dangers of horseradish started talking about baked potatoes instead.  I looked around for the tiny lady, but she was nowhere to be found.

Faintly disappointed, I walked out into the cool night air.  There she was, sitting quietly underneath a tree, smoking a cigarette.

"Say, Lady!"  I hollered as I walked up to her.  "I wanted to hear what you had to say..."

She blew an exceptional smoke ring in the air and eyed me through the ring.  "I didn't think anybody wanted to hear what I had to say," she said, in a voice that sounded as if she'd been crying.

I sat on the grass next to her.  "Well," I said, "I do."

And I waited...