Things are slowly starting to make sense again. Serious again. Ushering in Obama's new "socialism" I have a hammer and sickle creating serious thunder between my ears.
Over at Ornery Bastard's place, (link on the left) Comrade Busted Knuckles and myself were extolled by commenter Comrade Larue to hoist a few to celebrate the end of an error. In my lifetime? The end of THE error.
In what seemed a good idea at the time I put forth that in honor of the Shrub's return to the ranks of indictable, ONE finger of Bushmill with an Old Fitzgerald chaser would be appropriate.
My next mistake was to wander into the neighborhood gin mill to share the moment.
At the time it seemed simpler/cheaper than paying for the necessary ingredients.
I'm not in the prime drinking condition I cultivated in the 70's. In fact, distilled spirits and I have not been on speaking terms for 25 years. When it comes to "shot and a beer" elbow bending, my policy is: forget the shot. Yesterday was a heavily symbolic day. A day for changing policy.
When I sat down, I ordered ONE finger of Bushmills and an Old Fitz chaser, several old souls on adjoining stools were curious. I explained the theory. A one finger salute in a rocks glass, -middle finger extended whilst raising of course-, a moment to mark the fallen, immediately pursued by this era's only redeeming character, Patrick "Old Fitz" Fitzgerald.
A grand idea! My newfound associates joined me enthusiastically. We laughed, agreed that the occasion called for something special and that I had found something worthy.
We were now an ad-hoc committee. The theory translated into action flawlessly shortly after high noon. The five of us raised our glasses in unison.
The committee conferred and moved that a 21-gun salute was absolutely required and ordered up the second volley. My amendment that the four of them continue without me, making the math easier, was defeated 4-1. With military efficiency and precision the salutes were loaded and fired. At 20, the committee moved and passed a motion designating me as the final shot.
The remainder of the day got better and an easy feeling settled over the realm. There was only a small nagging suspicion that collateral damage was inevitable.
Which brings me to the point of today's post. Yesterday spurred much thought and conversation about past, present and future. The past? It's done. It's so OVER!
The present? A little uncertain. The future? Bright.
A long way to get to this:
When Paul Simon appeared on The Colbert Report he sang "American Tune". A song written during the Nixon days that took on a whole new meaning after 9/11. He was asked if there was a song he regretted writing to which he almost immediately responded "Red Rubber Ball". (a song he actually co-wrote, during a Garfunkel separation, with Bruce Woodley of "The Seekers" that became a minor hit for "The Cyrkle").
I've always liked the song. A guilty pleasure of sorts. But its lyrics take on whole new meaning in the post-Shrub afterglow.
"I should have known you'd bid me farewell
There's a lesson to be learned from this and I learned it very well
Now, I know you're not the only starfish in the sea
If I never hear your name again, it's all the same to me
And I think it's gonna be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball
You never care for secrets I confide
For you, I'm just an ornament, somethin' for your pride
Always runnin', never carin', that's the life you live
Stolen minutes of your time were all you had to give
And I think it's gonna be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball
The story's in the past with nothin' to recall
I've got my life to live and I don't need you at all
The roller-coaster ride we took is nearly at an end
I bought my ticket with my tears, that's all I'm gonna spend
And I think it's gonna be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball
Oh, I think it's gonna be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball"
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Inaugural Morning After -OR- Rehctaw Resolves
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3 comments:
Yeppers, my head is a thumpin' today too.
It was SO worth it though.
Hey, I came over here and extolled you DIRECT, didn't I? If not, I should have.
Whass with all this Comrade shit? I thought we wuz all bro's. WTF, if it's like garlic and will keep the 23% away I'm down with it. *G* Here's to the Pro Lariots, or whatever . . . I'm just a poor workin stiff like the rest of yas . . . ;-)
Tuesday was a good day for rejoicing in the village.
Wednesday a good day to sleep.
Today, pitchforks sharpened, torches checked.
It ain't over till it's over. N so far, I don't hear Yogi OR Bluto . . . *G*
Whass with all this Comrade shit? I thought we wuz all bro's.
We're all commie socialists now! [eg]
Did'n'ja get the memo?
Tuesday I learned what a cheap date I've become and why I chose to stop swillin' hard licker.
Evidently I uttered a soaring indictment of Amurica since 1980 to which a couple of young republicans took umbrage.
The bar owner said I behaved. He found it very informative and entertaining. He said the two guys had it coming.
No brawls and I was a safe crawling distance from home. So it's all good. You didn't have to twist my arm. Sorry if it sounds like I scapegoated you.
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