A Big Hole in My Life

So there is a big hole in my life now.  A hole that I oddly seem to miss.  As much as I pissed and moaned, I had become used to and if truth be told, looked forward to it every day.  A day without Trump tweeting, waving his tiny hands and moving his ass like lips somehow now felt empty after 4 years of his daily dosage. The new normal that Trump introduced in 2016 had become customary, SSDD ordinary, not unique and different.  How sad is that?

I am actually very happy, some would say, ecstatic that our sad excuse for a President was trounced by a guy he called "Sleepy Joe".  I am thrilled especially that he is really showing who he is with his 2 weeks of tantrums and holding his breath til he turns blue.

But with only Trump Flu to hold my attention now, I am beginning to jones for my daily dollop of Trump, the man.  The two of them sort of canceled each other out by keeping my brain busy multitasking the fear and loathing I had for both.  By keeping me busy, the two kept me from dwelling on one alone.  And now, all I have to be worried about is Don's flu. And its not enough.

But then I am heartened by the knowledge that from now on, our new normal will be throwing all of us new curves that may end up fucking us royally, but it will be an interesting ride.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ....................................

CMA Snubs Again

Country music has a special place in my heart.  It was the first music I remember hearing as a toddler in Colorado Springs, Colorado.  Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, Webb Pierce, Roy Acuff, and countless other hay seed crooners and twangers filled my early years with the music of white trash America.  Smitten, I never looked back until it became nothing but Top 40 garbage in the 1970s. 

As I grew up, other music genres turned my head.  Folk, Blues, Rock, Jazz, Metal, and even Classical all have their place in my heart.  None however had the impact of that first kiss, Country Music.

I turned my back on the twangy Pop music that passes for Country music today.  It had become more about the flamboyant factor than the talent factor.  It all sounded the same. How big your belt was or how long your tassels were seemed to override the actual musical ability of the performer. Sure there were talented people performing, but they had caved to the POP music mentality that mediocrity sells. Their efforts became homogenized, pasteurized, no edge crap.  With the exception of the Outlaw movement in the mid 1970s, Country music became dead to me. And it has only gotten worse.  Style over substance.

For awhile the Outlaws realigned Country music with its roots.  But then it too became a sad reflection of itself when all the up and comers claimed that they too were outlaws.  Sorry but they weren't.  Wannabes who failed to carve their own unique niche.  Posers, the lot of them.

So here we are in 2020, post CMA awards show.  I don't like awards shows.  I figure already huge egos need no stroking from me by watching them prance in front of a camera.  Anyway, so what do I read today?  They did not even mention 3 country performers who passed in 2020 who represented Country Music more honestly than they ever have.  John Prine, Jerry Jeff Walker, and Billy Joe Shaver were snubbed.  What a bunch of thankless, self important assholes those CMA honchos are.  Not even a mention.  WOW!

Some current Country stars took notice.  Two claim they will return their CMA membership cards. And I love Sturgill Simpson's reaction on Instagram;

“Don’t get it twisted…wouldn’t be caught dead at this tacky ass glitter and botox cake & cock pony show even if my chair had a morphine drip,” 

But America loves mediocrity and this snub will pass under the bridge without notice.  

Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................................

The "I Don't Give a Shit Cult"

I started out Life as an Episcopalian.  Once confirmed, I spent time as an acolyte and briefly considered traveling the road to priesthood.  I changed direction that day at Hot Shoppes in Bethesda when I watched my priest snuggling against and kissing a woman not his wife. I quit playing the religious game. Ever since I have only stepped foot in a church when customs warranted it; Weddings, funerals,etc.

No longer being a believer does not mean I am an Atheist or an Agnostic.  No, there is one place to settle that will drive the extremist advocates of the other 3 choices bonkers. I now belong to the Cult of the "I don't give a shit people".

We just do not care if there is a supreme being in charge of it all.  Believing or not believing does not alter our path from the cradle to the grave.  Shit will happen and has happened to us.  Worrying about fixing blame or credit is an exercise in futility.  Worrying about after life nightmares inflicted by mythical beings is just crazy.

What I do worry about though are all the abuses, billions of deaths, and cultural separations that have been part and parcel of almost every religion since their creation in Holier than Thou twisted minds before recorded Time began. It has nothing to do with silly fables thought up to scare children.  

Religion is about control and power in the here and now. Anything positive that happens through religion is only allowed as long as it helps in the continued dominance of the targeted population.  

That is not to say the emotional crutch Religion offers should be banned.  Believe. Don't believe.  I just do not care. But I will care deeply and will resist should religion ever become mandatory.  

Keep it 'tween the ditches .................................

The Voice of a President

For the first time in over 4 years, I heard the voice of a President. I had forgotten what a President sounds like.  Today I was reminded.  It was a confident, calming voice asking us to be united, not divided.   

I had left the TV news on and used it for background noise as I stumbled through my morning.  The voice of a President stopped me in my tracks.  The voice of a president was not coming out of a president.  He's not one yet.  We will have to wait until January 20, 2021 for the Voice to become official.  But I know the voice of a President when I hear one.

President-Elect Joe Biden did not whine, accuse, or spew lies.  There was no hate in his tone or his words.  His voice was all about a future he insists he will try to return to us.  His voice was promising that wounds will heal if we can stop pissing on each other's shoes.  And what I found most encouraging was, he did not promise nor claim credit for things he said he would do nor in things he had no part in.  He promised to go to work and asked that all Americans join him in regaining the heart and soul of what our nation used to represent.  Its not about us against them, rather it's about all of us together working to right our ship.

I won't hold my breath.  I am still harboring buckets full of hard feelings for anyone on the Right.  It is obvious the Wingers are feeling pissy also.  But then they always have been pissy.  Its part and parcel of the Winger soul.  If you ain't pissy about some dunderheaded move from those limp wristed black lives lovin rainbow losers of the evil Left, then you should not call yourself a Republican.

But today I again heard the voice of a President.  And when I did, I could almost see some light at the end of my self inflicted tunnel and my shoulders felt lighter than they have in 4 years.  Maybe there are better times coming our way after all.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ........................................

A Much Needed Reset

Well it appears here in the States we are about to enjoy a much needed reset.  I know I need one.  The last four years of the hate and discontent fomented by Donald Trump was workin my last nerve hard.  No kidding and serious shit.

I have dumped life long friends.  That sounds awful, but I had to do it to alleviate the complete disgust I had for them and their enabling support of someone so awful and damaging to our country. The evil they helped to flow over our grand land in wave after wave finally drove any hint of kinship to them out into the dreary climate that had all of us by the short hairs.

Do I regret losing friends over someone so loathsome as Trump?  Hmm.  Some days, yeah I do. 

But then I find Maggie and stroke her hard.

Later ................