I’ve found one really positive aspect of Republican administrations is how good I’ve gotten at finding silver linings.
See?
It’s also kind of a kick getting to be smarter than your President, although not so much in times of crisis.
I was just thinking of instances where I’d been right and the Republican President was wrong. The last guy didn’t really count because technically everything he said and did was wrong and usually in a multiplicity of ways. Then I took a stroll down Bad Memory Lane and tried to think of things I’d been right about when George W. Bush’ was wrong. The answer, once again, was “everything.”
As for Bush Sr., I knew the Iraqis-looting-incubators story was a lie the moment I heard it. Of course, so did he, so it didn’t make me smarter, just not evil. Anyway, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to say “told you so” over the years and didn’t take them. But when the invasion started and the former guy and his lickspittle
minions, along with Tucker and the rest of the Tokyo Roses over at Fox all started rootin’ for Putin, I wanted to mention it on the East Bay freeways. I’ve put over a thousand of these signs up since June and some of the natives are starting to grumble.
I’m doing it as part of a larger experiment, but even if that weren’t the case you’re not supposed to be okay with one of the major parties working so closely with an enemy. Actually, working at all with an enemy is usually frowned on in politics, but I guess we’re a pretty tolerant lot. The DNC is probably thinking if we let them keep their Russian sponsorship, maybe they’ll let Biden slide if he’s ever caught asking for Dijon mustard.
Don’t count on it.
Also, somewhere in all this mess I woke up one morning to find I was a sixty year old man, and no longer blinded by the youthful innocence of fifty-nine, I could see that life was too short to be denying myself simple pleasures like saying “told you so” to half a million motorists.
I’m still working on transitioning back into society, and frankly don’t have a clue how to be sixty. With my parents, uncles and childhood mentors all long gone, and the media focused entirely on the young, it seems like the only behavioral models for guys my age are in pharmaceutical ads. So I’ve started smiling and laughing constantly and spending my days in all sorts of sports and recreational activities: tennis, golf, river rafting… you name it.
At sunset you’ll find me sharing a quiet moment with a phenomenally attractive woman around eight years my junior, gazing at her through eyes positively brimming with love, respect and gratitude. If you look closely you’ll also see a gleam of anticipation for the night ahead when we’ll both be feeling just like kids again.
Because whether we’re laughing deliriously or quietly staring at the stars, whether we’re snuggling under a blanket or just basking in the warmth of each other’s smiles… you bet your britches we’ll be doing it on a good old-fashioned hayride! Because if there’s one thing large pharmaceutical companies agree on, besides price-fixing, it’s that people my age are just nuts about hayrides and after our Quiet Moment, that’s what always happens next on TV.
What happens next in real life is she glares at me or finds something to criticize and the mood gets spoiled. I guess it’s not enough to just quietly BE with someone, some people just have to talk talk talk. And since apparently trust is a thing of the past now, it’s more like an interrogation than a conversation — and always the same questions…
“WHO the hell are you?”
“WHAT’s your goddam problem?!”
“WHY do you keep staring at me?”
Maybe being sixty makes me an old fuddy-duddy, but I remember when people used to be polite to strangers.
And people could understand simple English, so when a guy told someone that the people selling drugs on his TV were saying they should go on a hayride together she didn’t look at him like he was some kind of weirdo.
And another thing: drug companies want you to think that sneaking up behind people and surprising them with a big bear hug is a hilarious way to introduce yourself and a sure-fire way to make friends.
It’s not.