Up and Down--The Human Condition

Originally Posted Wednesday, November 5, 2014

So much happens that I forget to write here.  It is hopeless, really.  I would have to quit my job and spend all that time telling tales.  I like the idea, but I have to make a little bit more than a living.  As Somebody Wilson once said in his own way, there is nothing more dissatisfying than a small but adequate income.  Definitions, please.  Those are some seriously moving targets. 

Anyway (as my mother says when she wants to change the topic). . . I mentioned a while back that I had gone to the mall with a girl who talked me into buying some tight-fitting jeans and a denim shirt.  I tried them on at the same time and thought, "Holy shit, I can't wear these out of the dressing room, but fuck, I look like a rockstar."  Double denim, I learned it was called.  A Canadian tuxedo.  Google it. 

While I still haven't had the guts to wear the two together (but I think I can rock that outfit), I did wear the shirt to work the other day.  In the morning, I was driving as usual, cutting off the passive/aggressive drivers as they tried to close the gap between the car in my lane in front of them.  I know when they do it.  I can hear their leafless tappets knocking.  Halfway to work, I was sitting at a red light when a pickup truck with two rednecks inside pulled up behind me.  The driver had his arm out the window and his bird finger in the air, jamming it up and down, up and down, like he was plugging me in the butt while screaming the pedestrian, "Fuck you, motherfucker, fuck you you shithead."  Etc.  I decided to be amused and opened the door to my Xterra and rolled out while still seated so that I could look at him without showing my old man arthritic neck.  I grinned and said,

"What did I do to you?" 

His demeanor changed completely and he smiled (almost demurely) and said,

"Man, you drive like an asshole."

"Well," I said, "some of you guys can't seem to find the gas pedal until someone tries to pass you, now can you?" 

Just then another pickup pulled up beside me.   The power window came down and the young man driving began yelling at me. 

"You asshole motherfucker. . . ."  Etc.  There really isn't much imagination in these sort of things.  Now I've been in this situation before and so I was more prepared than I had been the first time, and so I looked at the young buck and said,

"What the fuck do YOU want?"

The driver's side window went back up. 

I don't know what happened that day, really, but I think I owe not getting my ass kicked to that denim shirt.  It gave me some street cred with my redneck homies, perhaps.  Maybe they thought me a working man.  I don't know, but it sure could have turned out a lot differently. 

I called Q to see how he was taking the whole monkey/jockey thing. 

"Man, if any of the elections here are decided by a single vote for or against, I'm going to feel terrible.  I will be responsible."

"Do you know how many major elections have ever been decided by one vote?" he asked me.

"No."

"None.  They tell you your vote counts, but they are wrong.  Statistically it doesn't." 

"Did you see what I posted about the monkey/jockey?"

"Yea." 

"We're screwed."

"These are topsy-turvy times," he said, "and people are willing to pay anything to see a prelude to the apocalypse.  We'll just make it Pay-Per-View event." 

He was right, of course.  My boy is a fucking genius.

"Yes, yes, that's it," I agreed eagerly.  "It was the fucking caps anyway.  They weren't wearing the proper caps." 

We worked on our business plan. 

"We'll include everything.  We'll have midgets fighting dwarfs." 

"Yea, yea.  For the opening, we'll just have a bowl of water and dump in two Siamese Fight Fish.  Who wouldn't want to see that?  Oh shit, we'll put it on the internet.  This is perfect!"

Etc. 

We are, if nothing else, filled with the Spirit of Commerce right now.  'Tis the season.  Let me know what you think, though.  Sometimes we have our thinking caps on too tight.  If you think it a goofy idea, let me know right away, for as Q suggests, it is my retirement funds that are on the line. 

*     *     *     

I'm not feeling as funky this morning.  After reading the headlines, here is what I wrote:



The elections are over.  My team lost.  President Obama is the culprit, they say.  His administration has shepherded an economic recovery (better but not great) decreasing unemployment, and we now have universal healthcare.  But he has also has a terrible record on individual privacy, and under his watch, the U.S. hasn't had a great record of spying on others, either.  Democrats also had to contend with the other leadership issues.  There is a perception that Pelosi "runs" the Democratic Party.  She looks and acts like a Republican even if she votes like a liberal. 

They both needed flowers in their hair. 

State governments are now led mostly by Republican Governors.  I don't understand this at all.  Well. . . yes I do.  Liberals are by and large very smart people, but their ranks are swollen by people who are really neither.  Democrats don't get elected by the middle class.  They get elected by people who often don't know much about politics or current events.  They are people with "hot buttons" that liberals are able to push on occasion. 

The middle class votes.  They are semi-educated, have a bit of money, and are in a position to worry all the time about losing the little that they have whether it is to foreign radicals or to the poor.  They identify with the wealthy because that is where their aspirations lie.  They are conservative on most issues because they are conservative in their lives.  They are most influenced by media.  They have the most televisions, the most computers and smartphones.  They are on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram.  They see more advertisements and hear more opinions.  They watch FOX news.  When they went to college, they majored in business or accounting or engineering.  After college, they didn't start reading poetry and novels, didn't start going to art theaters and museums.  They read "Road and Track" and "The Wall Street Journal."  They don't look like the people in the style section of the New York Times.  They vacation at resorts.  The kids have all gone to Disney.  They go to work every day and believe their taxes are being spent on people who are not trying hard enough to get ahead.  They think that every day when the alarm goes off at six a.m. 

They've all smoked marijuana but hardly ever do now. 

They like cars. 

They didn't read "On the Road" and think that is how they wanted to live.  They probably never read it at all.  If they read a novel. . . well, you see the ones at the checkout of the grocery store. 

They like movies with Jennifer Aniston. 

They may have recently started to believe that global warming is real, but they are not ready to do anything radical to thwart it. 

You get the idea.  They didn't elect Obama either time. 

Where were the fucking millennials last night? 

I don't think the arts are going to get much funding any more.  NPR had better start having more car washes.  Churches are looking strong, but they are not publicly traded, so there is no investment opportunity there.  Hollywood will go mainstream again.  We will be seeing a lot more schmaltz, if that is possible.  We will have science, but only with a purpose.  There will be a lot more cornball America. 

O.K.  I'm done for now.  You know what I mean.