I just flew back from Dallas and boy are my arms tired.
It was my second time being in Texas.
The first was part of a cross-country trip where I decided to stop at The Big Texan Ranch & Brewery, home of the 72-ounce steak dinner challenge.
While I did not attempt to eat nearly five pounds of Texas beef, I did devour a massive chunk of steak, along with a platter of Rocky Mountain Oysters and three glasses of beer.
I spent the next several hours of the trip prone in the back seat, deep in a food coma.
This week I was not in Texas for the food.
I was there as part of my journalistic duties.
“We are sending you to Dallas,” my editor informed me a few days before my trip.
He, or she, appeared suddenly on my computer screen, a shadowy figure of unknown origin.
“Uh, why would I go to Dallas?” I asked. “There’s not really in our coverage territory.”
“You are going to interview John Kennedy,” my boss said, in a cloaked voice.
Oooooo!! A real “scoop.”
What reporter has not wanted to sit down with our 35th president?
This, I was assured by my editor, would surely get me my long-awaited Pulitzer Prize.
“Oh. And take a lot of pics while you are down there,” my editor said.
And with that he, or she, was gone, disappearing from my Zoom screen.
I received a flight confirmation a short time later and then a text detailing when and where President Kennedy would be appearing.
Wednesday at Dealey Plaza, 12:30 p.m.
Dealey Plaza, of course, is the movie set location where popular right-wing director Quintin Tarantino Zapruder filmed his first government propoganda film, “Kill Kennedy: Volume 1.”
I arrived in Dallas Wednesday morning and took an Uber to Dealey Plaza, where I sat on a small grassy knoll and waited.
Soon, the street below me began filling with people, lined up along the street as if waiting for a parade.
As far as I knew, no one else was aware that President Kennedy was going to be here on this day.
Then I noticed the signs.
“TRUMP/JFK JR. 2024” one read.
JFK Jr? He’s been dead since 1999, as far as I know. Plane crash.
My spidey senses kicked in and I strode down the grassy knoll and began asking questions.
“This is soooooo exciting!” a lady holding a giant Trump/JFK JR.” flag said. “John-John!”
She was swooning, her eyes all a-flutter and teary.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“Q,” was all she said.
I Googled this Q and my favorite pedia, Wiki, told me it was this shadowy figure QAnon who told some of his more faithful followers that JFK Jr. would be appearing in Dealey Plaza.
Why? To help reinstate He Who Shall Not Be Named.
Then, as Q put it, the latter would resign, allowing JFK Jr. to become president.
Oh. And not only that but John Kennedy, the president, would be making a “special guest appearance.”
Yes, John Kennedy, who was/is 104 years old.
The man I was sent here to interview.
It was then that I realized that a great hoax had been inflicted upon me, a pre-emptive April Fool’s joke by my editor, whoever she or he may be.
I could see my Pulitzer Prize fading away, right before my eyes and in the shadow of the book depository.
I hung my head and walked away from the throng of believers and trudged up the grassy knoll and plopped down, dejected and defeated.
“I had so many things I wanted to ask him,” I said to myself.
An hour passed and soon it was 1 p.m.
John Kennedy Jr. did not appear to the crowd below. Nor did his father.
Then, a rumbling from the crowd. People staring at their phones. Some began to clap and then run.
“He’s coming tonight!” I heard someone shout. “He’s going to be at the Rolling Stones concert!”
I have always wanted to see the Stones perform and this was my chance.
My depression lifted.
Being a drummer, I really wanted to see Charlie Watts.
After all, he is getting on in years and this might be the last chance I get to see him.
I might not win a Pulitzer but at least I can say I saw the Stones in concert.
(Scott DeSmit is a general assignment reporter for The Daily News. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org)