if one is content then one's cup is half full right? random thoughts such as this enter and exit my consciousness fairly regularly and sometimes i must admit to you, i find it quite tiresome.
i rounded the corner at a snail's 8 mph, passing brenda's "unit" which is out of compliance in about a hundred ways and to my left i see mr martin and his "buddy from down south." mr. martin always flags me down. sometimes i try and look busy, like i'll change the cd or pretend to be on my cell as i drive by him but today i slow, hit my auto-window button and greet the two fine gentlemen that have nothing better to do than stand right smack in the middle of the street and gossip.
the conversation sails through the polite introductions and faster than a speeding bullet, we are into the subject of the upcoming election.
well, shit, by the looks of my vw and the plethora of bumper stickers in various select spots, it's quite obvious to "the down south buddy" where i stand on current events!
Mr Martin (perhaps already with a couple of glasses of box-wine under his belt) " can't get much worse than old jerry and newsom...'course we already got o'bama..ha ha ha!"
Down South Buddy (in red-neck, backwoods drawl), "they're all god damn lawyers, clinton, obama, mrs obama... the country's run by god damn lawyers! that's why i'm movin to nevada. that's also why i joined the tea party. we gotta do sumthin about it!"
TPG "well, george "w" wasn't a lawyer that's for sure! and last time i checked, nevada was still a part of the united states of america..so your president won't change there!"
HA!HA!HA! we all laugh what feels to be an uncomfortable laugh...i change the subject because that's what i'm good at...
tpg "did you guys have lunch? where'd you go?"
you can't really argue with members of the tea party because you know what?? they have no f*&@#@#king clue about facts and no desire to read any! documented evidence? who needs it?
but then do any of us really have the facts? this causes me pause. perhaps the facts are secretly hidden? where? uh...oh! maybe at the bohemian grove in monte rio, california! under some giant owl carved out of stone. lol.
if we're all just wandering the planet spewing and vomiting our opinions, experiencing a few interactions and connections, playing with our kids, walking the dog, making a damn good turkey- on- rye every once in awhile, then what is it all about and why do we even waste our breath on anything?
driving back from the coast to my "home sweet home" tucked away in the eucalyptus groves, i glanced at the "sand hill" where locals climb to the top of this steep dune and write sentiments with seaweed for the passing traffic below to read daily..today someone's seaweed sentiment read:
hmmm. again, cause for pause.
well, damn it! i already did.
my favorite sand dune seaweeds message was a couple years back. i was sardined into the back of my in-laws SUV, along with my partner and our two nieces. one was about 7 at the time and the youngest about 3. we were stuck in "bumper to bumper" traffic, which is a common occurrence here on our popular coast, when our 7 year old niece looks over at sand hill. we can see her lip-reading the seaweed script..."grandma?? what does EAT PUSSY mean?