I was walking downtown Wednesday night feeling all right when a senator jumps out of his limo and gives me a big old hearty Texas hug. Welp, I’m thinkin, must mean he likes my summaries, yes? He said he likes my hats, my ever-changing hats he said, then wished me well and sped off into the night, nothin more to it than a friendly, unaffected hows-by-you, spoken like a true democrat.
Funny he should say that after I’d just learned the hard way that hats aren’t allowed in the senate gallery. Everything that happens there is symbolic you see, so an usher will appear by your side tootsuite and have you remove that sinister beret, lest the crackers see you turning revolt into style.
So hats are perfectly fine in the House, but there’ll be no turd in the punchbowl while lawmakers conduct the state’s business on the Senate floor, unless you happen to be