2004-08-22
1:15 a.m.

Clay's Day of Rest

A Fairy Tale of the Broadly Sort

Once upon a time there was a singer named Goldilocks Redlocks Brownlocks Auburnlocks Mulletlocks...oh heck, it's too hard to keep up. Let me start over.

Once upon a time there was a singer named Clay.
He traveled the country (well, not California) day after day.

He sang at country fairs and in big arenas.
He sang at NASCAR races and deluxe casinos.

He worked hard for his money with nary a break,
singing beautiful songs that made our, um, hearts ache.

He earned glory and fame and even a sparkly vest
But all that he wanted was a good night's rest.

Because there's nothing in this world that Clay likes more
Than to lie on a couch and have a good snore.

But he gets no sleep when he's on tour.
No sleep, no sleep when he's on tour.

(Ed. note: Or so you always claim, Clay, but you recently said in a radio interview that you sleep from 4 a.m. to 2 p.m., which is 10 freaking hours, if you haven't done the math. But we'll take your word for it that you're not getting enough sleep because we love you. And because otherwise this fable would make even less sense than it already does.)

But today, this Sunday, he finally got a break
An entire day for which he need not be awake.

So he looked around for someplace to lay (hey, this is a family friendly fairy tale, get your minds out of the gutter) his head (out of the gutter, I say!)
A sofa, a davenport, perchance even a bed.

He stumbled sleepily over to this pretty settee
In the room of that young Broad we all know as Kell-y.

But recalling how she slid off that couch during "Grease"
He questioned whether this place would give him much peace.

So he continued his journey, his sabbath day quest
The search for a couch upon which he could rest.

This one looked nice, all curvy and golden,

but Odin shooed him a way and hissed "This couch is taken."

This one seemed too short, but he was willing to try,

Till that evil cat Puss woke up and spat in his eye.

He ran shrieking in horror from that feline from hell
And collapsed on the sofa of the Key Keeper Nelle.

He drifted off to sleep then awoke with a start
Dream-like visions of Puss striking fear in his heart.

"Hold me, Nelle," he cried out, "Oh, I've had such a nightmare!"
"Dear, that cat is Cali," Nelle cooed, "Nightmare is over there."

"What's with these Broads and their cats?" he moaned,
Seeking refuge on the couch that Wendy in FL owned.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Weary and shaken he made his way west,
Hoping Lisa could give him a good place to rest.

"At last," he exclaimed, "A dog. I can handle that!"

Then Lily the Odin-wannabee turned and hissed like a cat.

By the time he reached Jan's couch, all purply and soft

He was so freaked by the cats that the leopard pillows set him off.

"Please," he cried out to the Broads all around,
"All I want is a place where I can sleep safe and sound."

The Broads smiled and led him to a room of his own,
Showed him the bed, closed the door, and left him alone.

Soon he drifted off to a world free of cats and fans and song,
Dreaming of puppy dogs and Hot Pockets and the Clay Aiken thong.

The Ranch was quiet that day except for some soft humming
All content to let him sleep because they knew the rest of the tour was coming.

--by Katynka
featuring the sofas and pets of assorted Broads