Now that Rick Perry has again entered the presidential race, I want to take this opportunity to clarify that I currently have no relations with the man, business, political, or otherwise. However, I feel I need to explain an incident in my past that involved him. It was only a brief encounter, but in these days of heightened scrutiny of public figures, who can say what trifling matter might be blown out of proportion in order to fill the headlines? If Rick Perry's encounter with me, for whatever reason, should become a problem in his upcoming campaign, then it's incumbent on me to at least have my side of the story out there. So here it is:
While he was governor of Texas, Rick Perry used to jog the Town Lake trail in downtown Austin (maybe he still does). Being a long-time Town Lake trail jogger and walker myself, I used to see him there from time to time. And when I worked at the office of a here-unnamed state agency that was located right next to Town Lake (now Lady Bird Lake), I'd often go out on the trail during my breaks or lunch hours. On these outings, I'd often encounter Woode Wood (first name pronounced
Woody), the singer-songwriter who made a name for himself busking along the trail. Besides playing his music and selling his CDs there, Woode talked to everyone and had an easy way of making friends. Every other person who walked or jogged passed seemed to be a personal friend. Woode was sincerely interested in everyone; he remembered their names, their stories, even their dogs' names.
Anyway, I was in the habit of stopping to visit with Woode, and one time (this would have been in 2005 or '06) we were standing beside the trail talking, when along trotted the governor in shorts and sweaty t-shirt. When he saw Woode, he actually stopped, smiled, and said, "Hi, Woode! How's it going?" Somehow I wasn't at all surprised that Rick Perry numbered himself among Woode's friends. After a bit of initial chat, Woode introduced me to Rick (yes, they were on a first-name basis). We shook hands (yes, I've washed it since), and Woode mentioned that I was writing a book about my dad, who was a WWII aviator. Rick waggled his head in admiration and voiced approval, saying, "Yeah, that generation, they got it right." I wondered briefly what the "it" was that he deemed they'd gotten right. I also refrained from reminding him that the generation in question had four times elected Franklin D. Roosevelt (practically the patron saint of modern political liberalism) as president.
The only other bit of the conversation I remember was when Woode asked the governor: "So where's your detail, Rick?" (
detail meaning his body guards). Rick glanced over toward the nearby Congress Avenue Bridge and said, "Oh, they're up there somewhere."
This idle chit-chat went on for quite a while, just as if three regular guys were hanging around with nothing better to do than shoot the breeze. I remember thinking:
Doesn't this man have important state business to take care of -- like regulating abortions and deregulating other stuff? But Woode was by then a pretty well-beloved Austin character, and maybe Rick instinctively knew that being seen hanging out with the Town Lake Busker could pay off in the long run. So for the moment, he was not the state official but the savvy politician trying to show himself as a man of the people. And we, I guess, were his props.
But I was also a state employee, and, unbeknownst to Rick (if not to his all-seeing, all-knowing detail), at that very moment I was on the clock and overdue for returning to my office. So before Perry (alas, he and I are no longer on a first-name basis) could get around to asking me what I did for a living, I excused myself and moseyed on.
For the record, Woode later confided to me that, although he liked talking with Rick, he didn't agree with his politics. "But he's a really nice guy," Woode hastened to add. Of course that seemed to be his appraisal of just about everyone. Yeah, that Woode, he got it right!
~Austin Bruce Hallock
