"Purple Skies"

Ron Price is one of the nicest guys I've ever met.

Bet you expected me to be the last person on earth to say that, eh? Let me say that again:

Ron Price is one of the nicest guys I've ever met.

When you talk to him, he is genuinely interested in you. He will grab you out of a crowd, cart you around to all his friends and make you feel as though he's in awe of being in your presence.

Ron has the gift to make you feel you're special -- perhaps the most special person he's ever been around.

When he introduces you, you are the center of the universe. Ron's universe. Whatever your wish is, it is Ron's command. If you want the sky purple and the water pink, Ron will whip out the paint brush and make it so.

Then he will follow up with you from time to time to make sure it's still purple and pink, and let you know you're still the most important person in his life.

Yes, Ron is one of the nicest guys I've ever met in my life -- a nice guy with absolutely no concept of "right" and "wrong."

Ron paints his pictures, you see, with lies and mistruths. He gives impassioned speeches at schools where he's captured, on film, telling bald-faced lies. Not little white lies like "I'm standing here today drinking coffee" when he's really drinking tea.

Big fat ugly whoppers: "I'm president of the State Board of Education" and "I grew up in Spanish Harlem and didn't speak English until I was 11 and moved to the State of Texas."

And here's the clincher: you can see Ron saying these things on tape. Your mind tells you it's Ron saying it. Logic and fact tells you he's telling lies.

But if you talk to Ron about it, you'll come away absolutely convinced the tape lied and he told the truth (and, of course, that you're the most important and enlightened person on Earth).

Ron can simultaneously invoke the name of The Almighty, while telling you how much he hates someone.

It's so magic, it's almost uncanny. Ron is almost Revelation-esque in his ability to deceive the masses of people who have come to worship him.

So why do so many fall for it? I mean, I've always (genuinely) thought that South Dallas far outclassed their neighbors to the North when it came to "good, old-fashioned, common sense." You know: the stuff your parents taught you.

So how come Ron has even one follower, much less the throngs to keep him on the School Board -- and the ones he says "will" elect him to the City Council replacing Leo Chaney?

The best explanation I've heard so far is (ready for this?): "because we think he will be easier to control than someone we don't know as well."

"Easier to control?"

How do you know? How can you tell?

I mean, how can you possibly "control" someone who lies to you -- who doesn't tell the truth?

How can you tell if you're "controlling" them or not?

So you need the sky painted purple, say. You call Ron on his DISD cell phone. Zap! Painting the sky purple is now "top" on Ron's agenda. As a matter of fact, Ron already knew you wanted the sky painted purple before you called, and he was already on it and was just getting ready to call someone in Board Services and ask them to pick up some purple sky paint.

You don't even need to pay for it, because Ron is going to have the School District pick up the tab for the paint!

Oh, and by the way, you're the most important person on Earth to Ron and he is just simply awed and honored to be in your presence and be your humble servant.

A few weeks later, you're sitting at the South Dallas Cafe and Ron sneaks up behind you and gives you a big hug (thanks Matt... you're an incredible writer!).

After several minutes of getting your buns buttered by Ron, and being filled by Ron's awe at being in your presence, you look outside and notice the sky isn't much more purple than on the day Ron agreed to paint it for you. "That sky's not too purple yet, Ron," you say.

Ron takes a step to the window, looks out and up for a moment then calls you over to see what he's seeing. "Well, if you look carefully," Ron says, "you'll see that I'm actually starting to paint at the edges. Can't you tell?"

"Well, uh huh," you say.

"Actually," continues Ron, "look at it a little closer -- especially where it butts up against that cloud right there."

A moment passes.

"Well, can't you tell? I mean, look closely. Can't you see the purple starting to take shape?" Ron asks.

And if you look, you can actually see it. The sky is actually turning purple, and Ron made it happen!

Ron puts his arm around your shoulder remarking, "and it's all because of you that our school children will be able to bask under this purple sky. They ought to name this new purple sky after you!"

The sky is actually turning purple! You did it! No, Ron did it! No, you and Ron did it!

"No," Ron stops you, "you did it."

Ron gives you another big hug, tells you how much you mean to him, and you watch him drive off in his expensive new BMW--probably to tend to the new pizza and video store he bought recently.

Where the money came from, who knows? Who cares? It doesn't matter. What matters is that the sky is actually, really, honest-to-goodness purple. And if it wasn't for Ron, it wouldn't exist at all.

It just feels so good to feel so good.

That, after all, is what it's all about. Because if it wasn't, you would see a Ron Price convicted for assaulting his wife, accepting $25,000 payoffs from DISD vendors, lying to school children at their graduation, and wasting tax dollars jet-setting around the country while running $1,000+ monthly cell phone bills.

But the sky is now purple, and life is good.