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by Miguelito Grefito The minute that I got the news, it was off to the airport. After contacting my old friend, Tony ee ee ee eee special charter flight on a 737 direct from my refuge in the jungles of Central America to the Delphi Municipal Airport. I just couldn't imagine that it was true. Mike Griffey selling his newspaper. How could Delphi ever survive without him, I wondered. So I was doing my best to get to Delphi and change his mind, but arriving on Saturday night, May 23rd, I walked into the door of the newspaper office just as he was jumping into the air and yelling yes! , having just signed the purchase agreement and waving the deposit check in his it had been some time since my last visit to Delphi, having left rather suddenly in the middle of the night with the chief of the former Delphi gestapo on my heels. While I was aware that things had changed radically since Mayor Wagner and Nancy Cripe were no longer running the show, it had been too enjoyable laying in a hammock down in sunny central america, and having good ee girls bringing me cubalibras, to take time to return. Since it was obvious that I was too late to change his mind, the least that I could do was to try and convince him to go out with a bang, and let everyone that had been such a pain in the kazoo to him really have it one last time. “Now you can tell them what's really on your mind,” I told Mike, “and they can’t do anything about it.” “You've been gone a long time,” Mike said. “I've changed, and have become quite mellow in my old age.” “You've got to do it, Mike,” I told him. “People are going to be expecting it from you, and you just can’t let them down!” But no matter how I pleaded, nothing seemed to phase him. All he would say is “I've found peace in my heart, and have no hard feelings about anyone.” I was so totally disappointed in him that the only thing I could do was to walk across the street to the Office Tavern for a drink. It was nice to see some of my old friends there, and Marcia still working behind the bar. I asked Marcia “what has been happening to Mike since I left?” “I don’t know,” she said, “he hasn't even been in here for over a month.” Then she added that lately, there just hadn't been the same fire in the paper that was there before. “Some have said that it was because he didn't have anyone to pick on anymore, since Wagner and the rest of them are out of office,” she said, “but I think it has something to do with his love life. The last time I saw him, he was mumbling something about becoming a priest, because he had been celibate for so long.” Since he hadn't been going to the bar, I felt that perhaps there would be more insight with the girls at the Sandwich Shop, since he certainly wouldn't be missing his meal visits there. This new girl named Krissy or something like that was working the counter, so I yelled back at April. “Seen Griffey lately?” I asked. “He's in Ree eeek into his mind.” “What makes you think , aped. “Wait he, doesn't pick of ds the way he fed to, and he just keeps smiling ne, Sua9, weird things like Blessed are the Peacemakers. It’s been even worse since he got back from his trip to California last week,” April said. The more people I talked to, the more depressed that I got. Then someone walked up to me and handed me a poker chip that said it was for a free drink at Big John’s Tavern in Delphi. I asked someone where that was, and they told me that it was just opened where Ben's used to be. I figured that this was as good a time as any to have a drink, so this seemed to be a chance to break away. There was this big guy behind the bar named John, so I surmised that this must be Big John. It is unlikely that he will ever need to hire a bouncer, I thought to myself. Looking around, I saw Mark Sales and wife. Knowing that Sales was a big fan of Griffey, I felt that he would be a good one to talk to about the decline of the newspaper in general, and the decline of Mike in particular. “Seen Griffey lately?” I asked him. “Yes, and I've been trying for two days now to get some of that trouble-making spirit back in him, but it just doesn’t seem to be working,” he said. “Why do you think I'm here?” he asked. “It's all his fault, because he has me so depressed that it has driven me to drinking.” Then it hit me. Subliminal suggestion. Perhaps that would be the only way to knock him back to his senses. It was about 3:00 a.m. when I left Big =~ and was slipped into the back door at office. I loaded up the tape recented andit the speaker beneath Mike's pillow as he slept. The song began to play... and then I laughed, to think they could doubt my love, panic my love has gone away, am without me my love. “Darn, wrong tape!” ‘I thought to myself. ‘So I removed it and put in the right one... now laughing friends deride, tears cannot hide, ohhhhh, so I smile and say, where lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes. “Damn, is this all he has around here?” I again wondered. The next one I found had Unchained Melody, and there were several spanish love songs on another. Then I found the one that was looking for. There it was, buried at the bottom of a drawer. “Now I'll give him a dose of what he needs,” I thought to myself. And the music began... .my stomach turns, I hate your guts. You turn to me and whisper, ‘you're a stupid klutz’, and baby, when your memory starts to linger, reach out ooohhh, and give you the finger, cotton, eat my shorts, everything we have is rotten, and baby, baby, I'll see you in court, eat my shorts. You put me down, you ran around, you spent my bread. They've just declared our sex life legally dead, and baby, without saying a single word, I put my hand into the air, and give you the bird. Eat my shorts, yes choke on polished cotton, eat my shorts, everything we have is rotten, and baby, baby, Ill see you in court, eat my shorts. Oooohhh, eat my shorts, yes choke on polished cotton, everything we have is rotten, and baby, oh baby, will see you in court, mmmmm, eat my shorts, ooohhhh, you got to, you got to eat my shorts, choke on it, choke on it, eat my shorts, choke on polished cotton, eat my short ksss. As the final words ended, I was surprised to see Mike looking up at me. Eyes wide open, he just said, “It won't work, Miguelito. No matter what you try, I’m just not going to talk bad about anyone. That's all in the past. Go in peace, brother.” Since it is obvious that Griffey's mind has degenerated beyond belief, it is probably just as well that he sold the newspaper and is leaving town. I just hope that he doesn't end up on a beach beside me, because I just can’t take much of that peace and love. Well, the 737 is waiting on the runway at Delphi International Airport, so I've got to run. Just wanted you all to know that I really did try to get him to wake up and give you all something good to talk about for the years to come. I guess that when smoke gets in your eyes, you just can’t see life clearly anymore. Adios, amigos! ‘BLAST A meg asy DEM
Newspaper Details
Delphi Sun Journal
Delphi, Indiana, US
Wed, May 27, 1992
Page 3
Full Page
Clipped by
Lara D.
