Monday, November 08, 2010
shape of things to come
I just watched Guv'nor Good Hair on "The Daily Show".
Wow.
I've joked about this since I heard local radio talk show host (and legendary former Longhorn kicker?) Jeff Ward say this on his show on election day, "President Perry".
If you start to say it now by the time it happens you will be acclimated and can say it without throwing up a little in your mouth.
I must say, he's as smooth and slick as his hair, a dubya who can speak almost eloquently in compound sentences. He can also out "folksy" his potential rival and the nation's favorite conservative MILF from Alaska.
Plus, while she may advocate shooting wolves from the safety of aircraft, he killed a coyote, on the ground, with a laser-sited pistol while jogging.
I know, I know, but if your asking why you might need to carry a laser-sited pistol when jogging, you've obviously never gone for a morning run in one of the ATX's most affluent subdivisions. It's scary: coyotes, Land Rovers, snakes, BMWs, wolves, Suburbans. . . lions, tigers, and bears, oh my!
Plus, let me throw out this little nugget to the "conspiracy theory" minded amongst us: Guv'nor Good Hair may have already received the blessing of Bilderberg.
I know, I know, crazy talk.
I believe him, and all his rambling about how Government has become too intrusive in our lives.
I'm sure it's just coincidental that the former chief of staff for the guy who mandated a vaccine for every school girl in the state was the chief lobbyist for the pharmaceutical company who makes the drug when Gov'nor Good Hair issued the order.
Right.
What was it Al Jourgensen sang?
Oh yeah. . .
"Thieves, thieves and liars, murderers
Hypocrites and bastards. . . "
That sounds about right.
Perry 2012!
Think I'm joking? Sadly no, but in all honesty I was half wrong in '06.
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Wow.
I've joked about this since I heard local radio talk show host (and legendary former Longhorn kicker?) Jeff Ward say this on his show on election day, "President Perry".
If you start to say it now by the time it happens you will be acclimated and can say it without throwing up a little in your mouth.
I must say, he's as smooth and slick as his hair, a dubya who can speak almost eloquently in compound sentences. He can also out "folksy" his potential rival and the nation's favorite conservative MILF from Alaska.
Plus, while she may advocate shooting wolves from the safety of aircraft, he killed a coyote, on the ground, with a laser-sited pistol while jogging.
I know, I know, but if your asking why you might need to carry a laser-sited pistol when jogging, you've obviously never gone for a morning run in one of the ATX's most affluent subdivisions. It's scary: coyotes, Land Rovers, snakes, BMWs, wolves, Suburbans. . . lions, tigers, and bears, oh my!
Plus, let me throw out this little nugget to the "conspiracy theory" minded amongst us: Guv'nor Good Hair may have already received the blessing of Bilderberg.
I know, I know, crazy talk.
I believe him, and all his rambling about how Government has become too intrusive in our lives.
I'm sure it's just coincidental that the former chief of staff for the guy who mandated a vaccine for every school girl in the state was the chief lobbyist for the pharmaceutical company who makes the drug when Gov'nor Good Hair issued the order.
Right.
What was it Al Jourgensen sang?
Oh yeah. . .
"Thieves, thieves and liars, murderers
Hypocrites and bastards. . . "
That sounds about right.
Perry 2012!
Think I'm joking? Sadly no, but in all honesty I was half wrong in '06.
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Friday, November 05, 2010
tough day
Greetings and felicitations my dear reader! Yes, it has been a while since I last shared my humble experiences. Nothing to share really, just another lost soul busy eeking out a living on the third rock from our Sun. Too busy living life to write about it. Hell, I haven't even been on The Facebook in well over a month, maybe two.
But today. . . today has been a day for the books.
This morning I went to a funeral for a three year old.
Yeah. Damn right it sucked.
Fuck, who am I kidding, it was miles beyond suck. It was brutal. Viscerally, emotionally brutal. To witness and experience so much love turned to sorrow, so much grief. . . excruciating. . . an hour long kick in the nuts.
I must confess, my dear reader, I didn't know the child. Never met him. I think the large photo displayed at the front of the chapel in the funeral home was the first time I saw his image.
Yet I know all about him. I know Lev's story. I know his mother. The Wife and I have worked with her for the past couple of years through our participation with a group of caring and concerned parents who share a desire to change the world to make it a better place for our children with disabilities and serious chronic health concerns. I never met the boy because his ongoing medical issues precluded his ability to attend the few family gatherings we have had.
I went to the funeral to show support for the family. I went out of the greatest respect and admiration for a family who walk a similar road to ours, a life filled with doctor's appointments, medical tests, and endless waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I also must confess, my dear reader, it was very interesting, a first in my 18 years of going to funerals for kids with disabilities. This was the first Jewish service I have attended. The Rabbi sang/chanted several parts in Hebrew. And I believe their was a prayer in Aramaic. I didn't know what the frack he was talking or singing about, but it was melodic, haunting, beautiful and sad. There was something from King David, lamenting the loss of a son, something along the lines of "Lord, why my son and not me? I would gladly trade places."
Because I also would have gladly traded places.
I sat there and felt a tinge of guilt as I thought "there but for the grace of God go I". We have been very blessed that The Boy has been remarkably healthy for the past few years. He hasn't given us a good scare since his last pneumonia in 2007. That was a time I tend not to remember, I choose not to recall how close to the edge we came.
When I think back on that time my first memory is of The Wife basically kicking me out of a hospital room because I was on the verge of punching a doctor who wouldn't listen and didn't seem to care. I remember going outside and walking a lap around the hospital, wishing I had a cigarette, not finding one, deep breaths of cold November air. . .
Cold November air. There is a freeze warning for our area tonight.
As the sun settles into the west the cool air turns cold. I know the sun will rise in in the east in a few hours and the air will warm into a beautiful autumn day. But tonight a family mourns, and I join them.
I can only sit, powerless to help or change the awful reality that this world has lost a remarkable child as I stare into the whiteness of the screen, struggling in vain to find words. . . but as the Rabbi said, there are no words.
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But today. . . today has been a day for the books.
This morning I went to a funeral for a three year old.
Yeah. Damn right it sucked.
Fuck, who am I kidding, it was miles beyond suck. It was brutal. Viscerally, emotionally brutal. To witness and experience so much love turned to sorrow, so much grief. . . excruciating. . . an hour long kick in the nuts.
I must confess, my dear reader, I didn't know the child. Never met him. I think the large photo displayed at the front of the chapel in the funeral home was the first time I saw his image.
Yet I know all about him. I know Lev's story. I know his mother. The Wife and I have worked with her for the past couple of years through our participation with a group of caring and concerned parents who share a desire to change the world to make it a better place for our children with disabilities and serious chronic health concerns. I never met the boy because his ongoing medical issues precluded his ability to attend the few family gatherings we have had.
I went to the funeral to show support for the family. I went out of the greatest respect and admiration for a family who walk a similar road to ours, a life filled with doctor's appointments, medical tests, and endless waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I also must confess, my dear reader, it was very interesting, a first in my 18 years of going to funerals for kids with disabilities. This was the first Jewish service I have attended. The Rabbi sang/chanted several parts in Hebrew. And I believe their was a prayer in Aramaic. I didn't know what the frack he was talking or singing about, but it was melodic, haunting, beautiful and sad. There was something from King David, lamenting the loss of a son, something along the lines of "Lord, why my son and not me? I would gladly trade places."
Because I also would have gladly traded places.
I sat there and felt a tinge of guilt as I thought "there but for the grace of God go I". We have been very blessed that The Boy has been remarkably healthy for the past few years. He hasn't given us a good scare since his last pneumonia in 2007. That was a time I tend not to remember, I choose not to recall how close to the edge we came.
When I think back on that time my first memory is of The Wife basically kicking me out of a hospital room because I was on the verge of punching a doctor who wouldn't listen and didn't seem to care. I remember going outside and walking a lap around the hospital, wishing I had a cigarette, not finding one, deep breaths of cold November air. . .
Cold November air. There is a freeze warning for our area tonight.
As the sun settles into the west the cool air turns cold. I know the sun will rise in in the east in a few hours and the air will warm into a beautiful autumn day. But tonight a family mourns, and I join them.
I can only sit, powerless to help or change the awful reality that this world has lost a remarkable child as I stare into the whiteness of the screen, struggling in vain to find words. . . but as the Rabbi said, there are no words.
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