I need a driver this week. Been thinking about Hunter Thompson. Not sure why. Don’t really care. He can’t drive though, but I wish he could.

So, who to drive?

Dan Hull leaves me no choice. He ripped out this week, jumping on all 8 cylinders of pure Detroit iron. He painted one helluva picture, but my eyes are looking at the frame. Solid, strong, uncompromising, and demanding your attention away from the splatters of paint.

Once he got behind the wheel of our white baby, the lines on the road weren’t law. They were just helpful hints.

He talked about what others wrote. That was nice, but I looked at the way he framed it. That’s what mattered. He collected three materials for absolute testosterone-infused-intellectualism. You know, the type that makes you feel like a crank addict upping the high with a shot from a defibrillator.

What do the three deserve as a ride? This'll do just fine.

So, who’d he use for a frame? Who’s he chauffeuring in the backseat?

None need introduction, so I’ll put it this way.

He starts by throwing-in a bit of William Shakespeare. Say what you want, join the trendy alternative believers, and claim him for less. This guy stands for one thing–moxie. Don’t believe it, just look what he wrote, and when he wrote it. You don’t do that without at least 25 gallons of mox in the tank.

Then he rode Teddy Roosevelt through the front plate glass window, splintering the hardwood floors, and ripping the fine upholstery. He doesn’t care, and why should he. You’ve got no choice but to look up and take notice. And listen.

Finally, he let Hunter Thompson in the back door, but not out of lack of respect. That’s just the door Hunter knocked-at. Don’t know why. Don’t care. He’s here, and that’s all that matters. He has a briefcase, too. That’s important.

I can’t lie. I think it’s missing something. Although, I’m partial. All three make a fine elixir, but I was born in the year that Oscar Acosta boarded a boat filled with white snow. I’ll never omit him from this party. That just wouldn’t be right.

Anyway, I felt the Caddy needed a spin. It’s been a great week, with some great writing, and people taking chances and leaving no room for regrets (here’s looking at a fiercely uncompromising Mark Bennett helping people in Houston to “get it”).

And we get to take it all in. How great is that?

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