The Long Form

Sometimes, it’s good to have a little hope. I hope every day that our country can get over its petty differences and illogical discourses about things that don’t matter. It would be nice if we could collectively agree to disagree on certain issues, and get on with the heart of the subject matter.

I’ve read some news today that is one hundred percent predictable, and highly discouraging. There is a substantial element of the population that simply refuses to admit/believe that Barack Obama was born in the United States of America.


The President, amidst some understandable confusion at the trading deadline.

If you would like a list of issues with which one might take objection with the man, the following is a start:

1) Increased governmental mandates of health care requirements
2) Budgets that do not reflect the dire state of the country’s finances
3) Sluggish employment gains
4) Failure to achieve meaningful and productive collaboration among the legislative branches.
5) Inability to break down inter-party lines for effective negotiation
6) Perhaps he plays too much golf.
7) He is a Democrat (for you non-Democrats out there)
8) He is not a Republican (for you Republicans out there)
9) He is a Hawaiian (for those who hate Hawaii)
10) He is part-Kenyan (for those who hate Kenyans)
11) Plummeting dollar against world currencies
12) Continuing wars abroad
13) Nothing near a balanced budget
14) He is a Chicago White Sox fan.
15) He is not fat.
16) He is tall.
17) He has a beautiful wife, who happens to be the First Lady.
18) He is not British Royalty.
19) He has a Blackberry.
20) He is a government employee.
21) Massive trade imbalances
22) Rising commodity prices

Some of these reasons for dissatisfaction are stupid. They are, however, legitimate statements of occurrence. And I could list hundreds more.

There are many reasons I am neither a registered Republican nor Democrat. The easiest summation is that they are equally driven to cater to the wildest elements to solidify their voting bases. Right now, it looks to me that the Democrats are simply clueless, while the Republicans (at least a very large percentage thereof) are batshit crazy.

Okay, we might be getting somewhere now. Unfortunately, over 50% of fucking Republicans who might stumble upon this issue will notice I have not included anywhere on the list “He is not an American.” Temper your disappointment and confusion for a while, and think about why this might be the case.

When Obama was inaugurated, the following were Supreme Court Justices of the United States:

Appointed by Ford:
John Paul Stevens

Appointed by Reagan:
Antonin Scalia
Anthony M. Kennedy

Appointed by GHW Bush:
Clarence Thomas
David H Souter

Appointed by Clinton:
Ruth Bader Ginsberg
Stephen G Breyer

Appointed by GW Bush:
John G Roberts
Samuel Anthony Alito, Jr.

I’ll make an assumption here that Supreme Court Justices are at least as reasonable as the general population, and that they probably have demonstrated some history of better than average judgment in their judicial careers. That’s keeping the bar pretty low, but bear with me here, you feisty Republicrats…

Somehow, these nine men and women, seven of whom were appointed under Republican administrations, were duped into thinking Barack Obama is an American citizen. That has to sit very poorly among those convinced otherwise.

I guess it’s getting a lot harder these days for people to simply state they hate him because he is Black.

Quarrels Sproutin' Spring Lovin'

On Sunday, I was as angry as I’d been in a very long time. There was no reason for it—I had nothing in the world that should upset me in the manner I found myself bent. It was horribly juvenile. I am not at all proud of it. There wasn’t even any other person involved—this thing was entirely some sort of damned statement about myself.

The day started cold. That already had me off kilter. Just feeding Patty the Barncat got me off to a bad start with her. I just acted like the weather was her fault. So I’d come inside, shaking, because I didn’t have the common sense to put on a coat. Wind was whipping out of the north about twenty, and it was about 45 degrees. Had to be the cats’ fault.

So I took it out on Nala. For a while, she was scolded for normal and everyday events in her life. She has free reign of windowsills with impunity here. But not Sunday. All of a sudden, that cat with a brain the size of a walnut should be able to figure out I’m busy there. These papers I’ve got stewn everywhere are monumentally more important than the other random sets of papers thrown all over the living room.

Truth be told, she didn’t have any business on those stacks of paperwork either. Somehow, in my negligence to tend to very basic business matters, the cat is to blame. I guess I should cut her pay. Reduce her Vet Care, or something. I was looking for some serious changes around this place, and it quite obviously was all about the cat.

And somehow, in the moment, I couldn’t at all figure out what it was that was upsetting to me. When you’re caught in the middle of something like that it’s so easy to get blinded and start bouncing off the walls. That’s where I was this weekend.

Everything seems to come full circle. While I was busy being an intolerant boob to myself all day Sunday, the mechanically significant others of my life were conspiring against me. The vehicles were outside grumbling about my ingratitude and negligence. By Monday morning, each had conspired to have electrical issues.

The tractors got in on the fun as well. I figured I’d at least get some mowing done, or maybe cut up some hedge that was down on a fencerow. But neither tractor would start. Some dumbass (guess who) had left the gas turned on in the 600, and the tank has a leak that’s just slow enough to drain a tank over a few weeks time. But it still wouldn’t start with the gas…I flooded it. Somehow, I’d flooded the Jubilee as well. I’ll never figure out how a fellow goes about being unable to start two different tractors, which are normally in good working order, through his own incompetence.

The chainsaws were another issue. The Poulan 1950 hadn’t been started in about four years at least. I think I had it fired up in 06 or 07…Can’t remember…and it might have been 02 or 03 since I’ve personally used it. So it’s in about fifty pieces now. The Stihl seems completely seized up to me at the moment. Flywheel no fly. That thing is going to be in about 150 pieces very soon…And it may not come back.

Today, as I was being chauffeured around town by my mother, grabbing parts here and dropping off batteries for charge or exchange there and etc…I had to get a spark plug. Bad service can be a great business model if I am your customer. There is one woman who works at the hardware store who is great—knows where everything is, and is very helpful. Another woman is this one’s polar opposite. She is mean, doesn’t know shit, and wouldn’t help you if she did. So…after a few years, everyone in town knows who to go to in the hardware store. I roamed every aisle looking for that plug…then I saw her. My new lime green love…

There were Poulans on sale for $99.99. There was a display model, and one that was still boxed up. I grabbed the boxed one, threw it on the ground, and went to check out. I got to the counter, and the helpful woman waited on me. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“Do you have any sparkplugs?” I asked.

“Yeah. Let me run and get you one.” She literally ran. She was back in under a minute with the proper item. It was 4.99, I think. “Do you still want this?” she pointed at the saw.

“I’d better. This might be the only thing I do right today.”