I think I would like to go back in time, to several different seasons, and see if it was clearly as nutso as it is now. Crazy times we live!
It wouldn’t be obvious ones, like World War I or its sequel, II. That was pretty clear I wager.
…an entire generation….
The sixties were pretty interesting. It was the first time, an entire generation, or parts of that generation, stood up and said ‘I think I look good in long hair, what’s wrong with a three-day music concert in a muddy cow pasture, and eating mushrooms I bought from a guy in an alley named the Package Man seems reasonable.’
I don’t know, but the last few years, heck, the last couple of years, seems like it’s in the lead for all time Looney-Tunes Show of the Week.
Here are just a few examples. Don’t get me wrong, they don’t keep me up at night. I’m past the ‘sell by date’ in my life to give it much worry—or any worry at all. They either get fixed or we live in caves.
I can live in a cave.
But let me just throw a few spit balls out there.
…we have sent….
We have people, employees of ours past and present, we have sent to this town called Washington, and we can’t tell if they are telling the truth or not. Worse, we can’t tell if the press is as well. Where is Walter when you need him?
We have some of those employees telling us something, and some drunk stoned guy had a laptop with notes and correspondence with some other guys, talking about paying each other money with lots of zeros simply because one guy has the cell phone number of another guy.
We have allllll kinds of new terms, like trans-gender. From what I understand, you can change your sex, now called ‘gender,’ by simply thinking it and we get to choose a pronoun. I wish it was like a name, maybe an adjective! I would like to be called ‘Your Most Regal Majesty.‘ Maybe too fluffy.
Not only that, but you can also change your species too. Like you can be a furry animal and require the government to put a litterbox in your restroom at your elementary school.
On top of that, you have doctors, probably from Texas, sitting at a bar. Texas doctors sitting at a bar always talk about how to fix things, especially after three scotches. They, I am sure, came up with the idea of puberty blockers and surgeries for children. Probably drew it out on a napkin.
Apparently now, stores let you steal them blind. They have store security, but the store doesn’t want anyone arrested for fear of an attorney who got his degree on line might sue them. Their management doesn’t even want the police involved. Just let the insurance cover it, and pass that cost on to, well, me.
We apparently think it is cool now to have an electric car. Not a hybrid that will run on gas and actually get you to your brother’s house in San Diego in the same day. Nope, all electric. With a big ass laptop screen in the middle of your dashboard so you have something to hit your head on after you deflect off the airbag. Apparently popular enough for other companies to get involved.
The idea is to not talk about the massive pollution to make the car and the fact you have to spend three times the time in Yuma to get half the charge to finish the trip to your brother’s house in San Diego and, oh, wait, pay three times the amount for the car rather than a KIA or a Ford Edge. Don’t let it catch on fire. You can’t put it out with water. Just let it burn. Again, insurance has it.
Yeah, it’s a $1.59.
Oh, and that $.69 cent head of lettuce? Yeah, it’s a $1.59.
Now, some of us have been convinced to crawl into a metal tube and go to the bottom of the ocean, to look out a window the size of my John Deere hat to see a wreck of an old ship in poor lighting.
Lucky for me, I couldn’t go because I would have to pee about seven times and you do that where the window is so someone would have to move-seven times. I think they give you an old coffee can for that.
Yep, kinda crazy times! But my dogs don’t seem to mind so why should I?
And yet, Dad has it all under watch and it is perfect. It is all part of His plan. Huh.