Now, I drink to forget...

                                                          A photo of “Burf” at his last birthday 
                                                                       party, in happier times.

For the past 25 years, ‘Burque Burford was my best friend, confidant and companion spider. I knew he had my back. There were times I walked through dangerous neighborhoods in Albuquerque’s International District—knowing that with “Burf” (his friends called him “Burf”) behind my ear, I was never alone.

He wasn’t what you’d call an “average” spider. He was a shrewd observer of nature, particularly climate. He once confided that he always wanted to meet Al Gore! Every February 2, old “Burf” would crawl out of the crack in the stucco in the back of my house. If he saw his shadow, he ran back into the crack, and we knew there’d be FOUR SOLID MONTHS of gusty winds, and ever-increasing pollen counts. If he DIDN’T see his shadow, he’d run giggling along the wall, eating the cockroaches he’d catch, and we’d only have 120 days of gusty winds and ever-increasing pollen counts. 

Well, last week, while I was at work ( I hope Bain Capital stays away from there…), and as “Burf” was hanging on the wall, minding his own business and listening to country music, Mitt Romney was observed by several neighbors to climb over the chainlink fence of my backyard, and squash “Burf”, and then, popped him into his mouth, loudly smacking his lips, according to witnesses, in obvious enjoyment.

He was my COMPANION animal, to which I have a constitutional right. Don't believe that? Check the Fair Housing Act! Without him, I feel disabled, and will have to get an SSI check...

I don’t think Mitt Romney knows how his actions affect us little people—and, I don’t think he’s concerned…

What I want to know is how do I sell MY story to the Obama Campaign?