TWERKING WITH MILEY

As I drove through Minnesota, my cell phone rang.  "Hello, this is Bill."

"Bill?  Bill who?"  I recognized the voice of sweet old Mrs. Sherman, whose car I moved up north in the summer, and back down to Florida for the winter.  At the age of 95, she was active but got confused sometimes. "Who is this?"

"Mrs. Sherman, its me, Bill Thomas, your favorite driver."

"Oh Bill, yes, yes, my little Bill.  I am so glad you called me, I have been thinking about you."

"That's nice to hear."

"Yes of course.  Bill, I have a question, I'm deeply concerned."

"Well, what's the problem?"

"I was watching my TV the other night, and a young girl was on in her underwear doing some type of dance or something.  But it looked more to me like the kind of actions a woman would reserve for her husband in the bedroom.  Do you understand my meaning?"

I smiled.  "Yes, quite clearly.  I think you are talking about Miley Cyrus."

"No, I don't think that was her name."

"She also used to go by the name of Hannah Montana."

There was a long pause.  "Now Bill, I know you're just teasing me.  No one would have a silly name like that."

"It was the name of her character on a Disney channel TV program."

"Really?  Are you serious?"

"I am."

"My goodness gracious."

"Miley was a teen goddess while on that show, and now she's trying hard to break free of that image."

"Bill, I can tell you that Mr. Walt Disney would not have approved of what I saw her doing on TV."

"I'm quite sure you're right, ma'am."

"She was moving and shaking and humping and pumping."

"Yes, I saw it."

"She was gyrating till the cows come home.  It was just plain nasty."

"Yep."

"What is happening to our world, Bill?  Can you please tell me?  First Syria, and now this Miley girl doing that naughty nonsense."

"They call it twerking."

"Oh go on!"

"No really, that's what they call it.  Miley was twerking."

"Well sir, she was doing something that should not be done in mixed company.  Much less on TV where hundreds of people can see her.  Maybe even thousands."

"Maybe even millions."

"Oh goodness, I hope not.  Bill, I am baking my famous blackberry cobbler, I wish you were here to try it later tonight."

"So do I, but I'm in Minnesota."

As she spoke, it sounded as if her voice were cracking.  "I miss you, when can you come see me again?"

"Next time you want your car moved, I'll be there."

She hesitated.  "Does it have to wait till then?  Could you just come visit when you're in the neighborhood?  I've grown very fond of you, Bill."

"As I am of you, Mrs. Sherman.  But right now I'm in Minnesota."

"Oh, OK.  Well thank you for thinking of me and calling me tonight."  She hung up the phone.

I smiled as I thought about her watching Miley doing the twerking routine on MTV.  And that's when my front tire blew out.  It was a chilly night, and I did not look forward to having to change a flat in the dark.  But that's the life of a driving fool.