Willie ‘Every Dog is NOT a King’ Bean.

It’s time for you to keep what you’ve earned.  It’s time for you to STOP big government from stealing your assets.  It’s time for you to give what you will to the dogs (and cats) you so choose.  The forced imposition of the Share Our Wealth Society is finished.  Ideological inspiration and Socialism are kaput.  Financial redistribution won’t play well at the Kennel Club.   Wake up New Orleans!  Read the Constitution of the United States of America.

Elect the NEW BREED Willie ‘Every Dog is not a King’ Bean Roscoe P. Coltrane.  Get spending under control with Ropes & Chains you can believe in.

Also, send Money and Greenies to Willie’s campaign headquarters…

 It’s official!  The Old Point Bar is located in historic Algiers Point, New Orleans just minutes from the French Quarter by ferry.  Dog friendly and Willie Bean ready!  Tshirts, signs, bumper stickers and more!  Live music and great New Orleans attitudes!  How much more can a Big Dog ask for?

Where y’at?

Lucas (Lukey), a Battles Wharf Designer Dog, has been named PHART CZAR of Fairhope, new Plan Director for the proposed Crap, Gas & Trade legislation designed to establish acceptable future levels of dog poops and toots.   Believe me, he has earned the title.  The PHART CZAR will identify emission offenders, dogs who poop and toot excessively, as well as their compliant counterparts.  The output of non-compliant large emission producers will be averaged with non-offenders to ascertain punishment or reward, depending.  While actual dog crap should be measureable and recordable, gas releases will remain more enigmatic, if not aromatic, and somewhat difficult to quantify.  That will be the PHART CZAR’s biggest challenge, CFM notwithstanding.   

He must hold his head high, nose to the wind and follow each trail every scent of the way.  Even so, the task may still overcome him.

The Dog Czars of Fairhope

The Big Dog Jumps into the New Orleans Mayoral Race

Willie Bean Roscoe P Coltrane, a New Orleans native, announces his run for mayor, bringing with him a fresh approach to politics and a mission to bring economic and environmental renewal to the city.Willie embodies the Spirit of New Orleans in many ways and his leadership is characterized by honesty, loyalty, and integrity. He loves the New Orleans culture and people and strongly believes in being active in the community. Deeply committed to a New Orleans renaissance, Willie only does his business locally. He epitomizes the possibilities of the great American Dream.

Robert E. Lee, a King Charles Spaniel, has been appointed ARF CZAR of Fairhope.  ‘Robbie’ is the overly friendly Greeter at Zia, 300 Fairhope Avenue.  He’s a real big talker, thus ARF CZAR.  He is also a real ‘Piece of Work’ which qualified him for the Fairhope Piece Prize.   Robby has ascended to the heights, nearly, of Lucky Dog, the Leader of the Pack.  The similarities are astounding; a Big Talking Piece Prize Winner.

Robbie’s best friend and playmate, Hope, is a big black cat.  That’s cool…

The Dog Czars of Fairhope

No such thing.  Most dogs are born perfect.  We exist, then we seek food, not the essence of self.  

I had a large Great Dane friend named Kierkegaard, who conceptualized about the meaninglessness of life itself.  He developed a dread of nothingness; angst.  For him, angst equaled  barking at nothing, or possibly worried about barking at nothing; a nondirectional emotion.  

I’ll try to explain.  When I walk on the levy to the Algiers Ferry, I think about the ride across to the City and go over my plan on where I will position myself. That is actual fear of falling into the Mississippi River.  I call it the muddy river fear.  On the other hand, Kierkegaard always dreaded of the possibility that he might throw himself over the side and into the water.  He worried about nothing.  It was ‘makeup worry’; angst.

Can you imagine a bigger waste of time and energy?  He should have been learning about trucks.

Angst precedes nothing.  That’s what makes it different from fear.  Fear has an object and can be overcome with courage.  Fear is not a bad thing but don’t confuse ‘no fear’ with courage.  I knew a dog with no fear.   He also had never seen a truck.   The barking fool ran in, challenged the bumper and now sits close to The Big Dog above.  He was fearless but lacked the wisdom of TRUCK and now, he’s dead.  A dog who lacks fear can be more dangerous to himself, and others, than a coward.

Fear is normal in the face of fearful things.  A dog must be afraid once in awhile, face and overcome the challenge, then move on.  In doing so, he or she develops the confidence to face the next fearful challenge.  After a little practice, courage takes root deep within the soul and allows a dog to advance or retreat based upon acquired wisdom.  

Real courage has intelligent direction so hold your ground but not in the path of an oncoming TRUCK.  

I have a hard time with the whole concept of nondirectional emotion.  I really don’t care what it means and I’m not going to worry about it because it’s nothing to me.  And you should have figured out by now that if I worry about nothing, I will have disproven my lack of awareness of the concept of dread.  

Existentially speaking, I dread that happening.  Thanks a lot, Kierkegaard.

The Wisdom of Willie Bean

Mmm, mmm, mm!
Willie Bean of Bama

He said that he was just the one
To make Fairhope a bit more fun.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Willie Bean of Bama.

He ran for mayor, almost won
And Kant you see the job’s not done.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Willie Bean of Bama.

He said more politics remain
So watch him launch a new campaign.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Willie Bean of Bama.

Help put this dog back in the fight
And turn all wrongs back into right
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Willie Bean of Bama.

Mmm, mmm, mm!

The Wisdom of Willie Bean.

Basset Hound Ruby Sue, Employee of the Month (again), East Bay Engraving & Gallery, 300 Fairhope Avenue,  has just been appointed TART CZAR for the Lucky Dog administration’s ‘inner circle’.   Ruby Sue’s current job description includes the monitoring of Red Dye #9’s use in red toenail paint production.   As an additional duty, she oversees Fairhope’s banking system.

The Dog Czars of Fairhope

Last evening, I lapped up a remnant puddle of warm beer which had spilled onto the kitchen floor.  As I later relaxed beneath the dining room table, my friends were talking from above; about me.  I heard them use my name.  ‘That Willie, he sure has it good.’  Or, she might have said, ‘Bad Willie, his head is like wood.’   Or, it may have been, ‘Fat Willie, he’d quit if he could.’  Doesn’t matter the context, they were talking about ME.  I loved it!

I listened and smiled to myself,  drifting slowly toward sleep. The last thing I heard was something about a bone in the back yard; digging up a large bone…bone digging….huge…bigger than…laugh laugh…Willie…good night.

I floated dreamily through the back door.  I didn’t remember that it was a French door but it must have been.  Only the top half was open as my cloudlike body glided toward the courtyard behind.  The moon seemed Louisiana.  It illuminated an enormous Cheshire Cat balloon, with purple and gold sparkles for fur, hanging weightlessly above the granite and grass.  The balloon wore Budweiser beads.  Her eyes flashed open.  I was pretty certain she was female.  You can’t be sure about cats.  

She whispered, ‘Willie, you big beautiful yellow boy dog.’  She then spat.  I floated closer.  ‘Yes?’  The smell of Magnolia perfume screamed about my nose.    

‘Willie, Willie, Willie,’ she purred.  ‘Would you like to see my Greenie?  It may be too much for you.’  

‘No way,’ I thought.  I’d never seen a Greenie that was too big.  Too chewy, maybe, but never too big!  I loved a challenge.  I hoped that we were talking about an actual Greenie and not a cat’s interpretation of a Greenie or a cat’s body part.  Cats are weird, you know.  Anyway, I don’t think cats eat Greenies.  Do they?  She gestured toward the ground below.  I saw what appeared to be the nub of a green bone protruding from the grass.  Thank goodness.  

‘It’s yours if you can chew it,’ she meowed.

I swiped at it once with my right front paw.  The ground opened to reveal the biggest chew bone I’d ever seen.  It barely fit into my dreamlike state.  It was awesome.  How could I possibly drag it into my world.   I could not.  It was too big.  I would take only what I could handle.  I would be conservative.  I would be sensible.  I began biting through the chew, worried that I may be taking on too much; that I couldn’t handle the size of the piece.  What if this self inflicted challenge was too overwhelming?  What if I could not do justice to this piece? What if it got the best of me?  What if I failed?

The she-cat air bag expanded, wildly distorting her features.  She continued to morph, filling the entire courtyard dream scene.  She showed me her mojo root.  I was in a trance now, under her spell.  ‘I’ll do anything you say.’  Rain came down.  Steam rose above iron gates.  Storm clouds raced, flickering across the moon.

Her face twisted.  She laughed with mocking glee… and then she hissed.  ‘Take off a bigger piece, Willie.  You can do it.  Remember Dog Rule #5!’

‘Bite off more than you can chew; then chew it!’   

I awakened; hungry for a challenge but smelling of stale beer.  

The Wisdom of Willie Bean; and Duane