Archive for December, 2009

Christmas Eve in the Boondocks

December 29, 2009

Sherry and I had to be sure that all of our fifteen adopted dogs were inside or out, according to their capacity for eating furniture and their widely varying degrees of housebroken-ness.

Once that was taken care of, we put on our light jackets and headed across the road, having already taken our carry-in contributions over in the car, to reduce spillage and preclude attacks by chickens, dogs and goats along the way. Our destination was our niece’s and nephew’s house, the Newlands, which is – literally — across the road. It was Christmas Eve, 2009, in rural, Middle Tennessee.

Our jointly-owned guardian of the immediate neighborhood, Fozzie Bear, a 120-pound Great Pyrenees, head-bumped and shoved us around, often galloping ahead and back to us. Laughing with his whole, white furry body, he steered us safely across our dead-end county road.

The pygmy goats and chickens scattered as we walked down the long driveway at Newlands’ Ark, gently encouraged by Fozzie to clear a path. Rabbit and coon hounds howled from their pens in the back yard. Nobody sneaks up on this place.

The Newlands’ inside dogs, a Chihuahua and a Boston Terrier, came bouncing out to meet us. The cellular tower next door winked its safety beacons festively, looking like a long, slim, galvanized steel Christmas tree. So nice of Sprint and AT&T to get in the holiday mood.

It was family Christmas in the hills — loud, delicious and fun. Extended family, friends, and friends of friends were there, with their children, and probably some of their friends. We exchanged some modest presents, and watched the kids open theirs, and grazed the impromptu buffet. Hugs were swapped, old grudges forgotten, and Sherry and I sat or stood around and let the warm, friendly atmosphere wash over us. As enjoyable as it was, we were a little celebration-weary after about two hours.

Even with all our dogs, home is quieter than this large gathering had become, and we’re not much used to crowds – even friendly ones. We glanced at each other a couple of times, and both of us knew we were looking forward to being back across the road, with our feet up, celebrating our own, quiet, Christmas Eve. We gathered up our jackets, and wished everybody Merry Christmas, above the din of kids and TV, getting a chorus of responses as we stepped outside.

We walked past the few parked cars left in the driveway, picked up a Great Pyrenees escort, peeled off a couple curious goats and sent them running back home, and crossed the road to relative peace and quiet. It was still just cool and a little damp. We had been spared the winter storms that were making news elsewhere in the country, which was fine with us. The Newlands’ dogs and chickens settled down a bit as we got farther away, and our dogs came to the fence to greet us.

Home for Christmas.

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Make Room for the Real Hater, Grinch!

December 29, 2009

Grab your funny hat and hit the bricks, you sick, fake-fur, green,  mangy sack o’ bones. You’re fired.

I hate to be a hater this time of year, but I am really sick (and tired) of liars, frauds and phonies, and I’m starting to hate them. The Grinch is a piker in this arena, compared with me; a lightweight; an amateur.

About ninety per cent of the pompous buffoons in the US Congress are not even one full step above a hooker, in terms of trustworthiness and honor. In fact, the streetwalkers have them beat. At least they offer something for a fee, and they usually let their customers know up front what the fee is. This congressional crowd likes to promise the moon, deliver a lump of coal, and lie about the cost. The skankiest hookers in Washington would run these clowns off their corner for ruining their reputations.

For that matter, these elected toads are no better than a Ponzi schemer, or a deadbeat relative with his hand out all the time, or a field full of hungry ticks on the first warm day of Spring… I hate ‘em. I confess. And here it is, the festive, totally secular mid-winter holidays. Tsk!

The senators from Louisiana and Nebraska took bribes in the form of sweet allocations of taxpayers’ money to vote for the advance of government-controlled health “care,” which will be neither healthy, nor caring. These two, and the others who took money for their votes, are great examples of people whose values and character make Bernie Madoff look reputable and trustworthy.

Several senators have decided to help advance this poison dart through the process by voting for it at several intermediate steps, while leaving themselves the opening to vote against it if their leaders are sure they can get it done without them. Most Democrats, and several RINOs, went for that option, which makes them even less courageous than purse snatchers who prey on old ladies, all the while whoring themselves for buckets of taxpayers’ money.

The socialist in chief is an admirer of Old Left thugs who are, in turn, worshipers of communist mass-murderers like Mao and Stalin. He is beyond shame, and most of us know that.

Some of us thought our elected “representatives” in the House and Senate still had some shadowy memory of their oath of office, and what it means, but most people who have not been in a coma for the last year know better.

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter: So help me God.”

Oh, boy, talk about “mental reservation or purpose of evasion.” If senators and congressmen suddenly had to honor that oath, they would be renting U-haul trucks and filling cardboard boxes with gifts from lobbyists and photos taken with the president, this Christmas break, instead of stuffing their campaign coffers with favors from their biggest contributors and planning big-ticket fundraisers.

They would be weaving through snow-covered streets in DC on their way out of town, hoping to dodge the angry crowds of voters carrying buckets of tar and bags of feathers.

There would be so few honest senators and reps left to mind the store that they would have to turn off the lights, announce the layoffs of several hundred thousand federal employees, and go home for Christmas.

Unfortunately, none of that will happen. We have to settle for prying loose the few of these barnacles we can in 2010, and replacing them with people who will promise to remain honest until the end of their terms, and go home to their real jobs.

One third of the US Senate, the most exclusive club of self-promoting clowns and thieves in the world, and all 435 representatives, some of whom have been in office so long they probably think their children will inherit their seats, are up in ’10.

The more of these people who have to give up their royal titles and get real jobs (even though they will probably wind up at cushy university faculty jobs, or with lobbyists), the better.

There, I said it. If that makes me a hater, I can live with that. Make a hole, Grinch.

Happy New Year!