Whiskey Wednesday

Some days I feel guilty for not paying more attention to the odd and maddening events unfolding inside The Beltway. I am sure most days, the lot of them just screw the pooch while looking busy and attentive to our needs. They have been screwing some pooch of some kind for the 57 years I have been aware. Okay, at age Zero I was not watching Huntley/Brinkley or Edward R Murrow, but I am sure the boneheads in DC were doing the same stupid things they do now long before any period I can remember. Let's call it retro-extrapolation.

I feel if I don't pay attention, they really screw up. Without my constant attention and consistent whining, this country would be in tougher shape than it is. My worrying and anguish is what keeps us from going over the edge. So when I find myself in those periods of blissful ignorance, I rush back to see what my inattention has wrought. I find it is always the same. Some new issues have heated up, some old ones have cooled down, and some issues continue to simmer as they have for as long as I can remember, occasionally coughing up a bubble to relieve the pressure.

In reality, Life inside the Federal Triangle unfolds without respect or attention to the events I face on a daily basis. Those wing-tipped button down cigar smoking yahoos definitely march to their own tune. I sit here in Maine singing the "Nobody loves me, my dog just died Blues" and they are down there hanging out in bars on M St drinking, carousing, and dancing to Reggae. They exist in an Alternative Universe. Or I do.

The disconnect I feel between myself and them is profound. The problems I face seem to my addled brain to have simple solutions for the most part. Yet by the time the problem is processed, looked at, broken down, and inspected by pols, bureaucrats and think tank wizards, simple solutions are tossed out the window. How would they justify their existence if problems were addressed with simple solutions?

Other days I walk by the tube and some kind of new but all too familiar craziness is filling the screen. Pols caught with their fingers in other pockets, other women, or in their own. If one of them has not just been snagged being stupid or outrageous, it must be a cold day in Hell. And if for some reason the politicians are catching their breath and laying low, panty bunchers from the extreme edges always have some new cause, latest bitch or other evolving complaint. The rhetoric may change, but the clamor remains the same. Seems many, if not most are not happy being happy...............Of course, quite often neither am I.

And don't get me started on all the mass stupidity the rest of us get ourselves into. I swear sometimes, I am sure any moments of sanity in our collective existence are figments of our imagination. By day, Gun Totin Tea Bagging Birthers facing off against Tree Hugging Snail Saving Whale Lovers. By night everyone sits on their respective barco-loungers and laughs their way through the latest segment of "America's Got Talent". That 90% of the time we all seem to be on the same page matters little since we all seem bent on tossing the 10% that separates us in each other's face.

I hear there's some windmills in Poughkeepsie that need a comeuppance..............

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