Blunt Wit

I have always been a bit of a cultural chameleon, taking on the hues of whatever environment I find myself in. I guess some would derisively say I change colors too readily, while others would beamingly suggest I have an overabundance of sticky enthusiasm.

But I guess if you change convictions like laundry detergent then how the hell do you maintain certitude? That is nowhere more apparent than religion.

I consider myself in that ever-widening ’spiritual but not particularly religious’ camp. I grew up, however, smack dab in the middle of the Judeo-Christian tradition. You know, the cinching bible belt of the South. I do believe there were more Baptist churches per square mile than people in my home town. In fact, I passed by one not long ago that had a ‘for sale’ sign out front. I wondered out loud,

“Does the congregation come with the building?”

Heck, I’d consider buying it just to have my own flock to shepherd. I couldn’t give’em hellfire and damnation but sure as heck could give them a good blog posting.

So forgive my religiously tinted meanderings.  Now to today’s rambling blog.

A while back we were camping in the mountains. Everyone got busy fishing or napping or doing whatever you do on a lazy weekend when I lit upon an idea that had been burning a hole in my soul since we first arrived. You see as we turned onto the road to the campground we passed a small makeshift enclosure with several really happy, wavy people standing behind two big igloo liquid containers and a sign that read “Free Ice Water!”

I wondered just what their shtick was … what were they up to? I mean, nobody just gives away free ice water for nothing, do they?

So to answer this question, I set off under a burning sun and hiked the several miles to their modest little stand. Once there I was met by Bruce and his companions. They were from the Baptist church just over yonder.

“The bible says that by ministering a man a cup of water you save a soul,” Bruce pinged at me.

“So start pourin and I’ll start savin!” I ponged back.

I proceed to gulp down 10 glasses of ice cold, spirit refreshing water.

On the walk back to our campsite my soul savin ways caught up with me and I had to duck into the underbrush to relieve myself. Back on the road, I thought, “Funny, they didn’t even preach or try to save my soul. They seemed to be more genuinely interested in quenching my thirst.” Real charity, I mused, comes (or is offered) with no strings attached.

So have you benefited from/perpetrated a charitable act recently? Details?

What religion do you consider yourself? One a scale of 1-10 how would you rate your faith?

So Obama pulled out a V in 2008 but there are plans afoot to return a Bush to the White House in 2012!

So now that the American people have voted an African American into office, it is timely to ask an equally compelling and in some ways more important question, “Are we ready for a Chimpanzee to be President of these United States?”

Please don’t laugh as this is a serious question that deserves serious consideration.
To begin our thoughtful analysis let us look at the current President of the United States, George W. Bush.  One of the most important qualifications for a President is that he or she have the native intelligence to solve knotty problems and ’make the tough decisions’.  I happen to be in possession of the top secret classified IQ test that was run on “W” upon his assuming the role of President.  This shows conclusively that ANY Chimpanzee (with the exception of the several of the more mentally retard ones) would have a much higher IQ and thus be MORE qualified than the man we elected twice in 2000 and 2004.

Next, a President must have the stature and carriage of a President (something majestic but just short of regal).  Thus, sorry to say, but in our 24 hour non-stop-media-saturated-image-is-everything world, looks matter.  Now our 39th President, Jimmy Carter had large ears and chimps have big ears so another point for the Chimpanzees.

And finally, the President must exude an animal charm AND not experience too much sexual tension.  We definitely don’t need an itchy finger on the trigger of our nuclear arsenal.  This is something our 42nd President knew only too well.  While some people burned with moral outrage at the Monica Lewinsky scandal there was a thick silver lining to that cloud.  Clinton got in touch with his baser instincts and the world was a safer place because of it.  If only “W” had such wisdom and carnal foresight.  Now, it is a scientific fact that Chimpanzees have been known to masturbate at least three times a day.  Even Bill in his heyday couldn’t match that pace.  Score yet another one for the Chimps.  Game, set and match.

Which leads us to the inevitable conclusion that indeed the White House IS ready for a Chimpanzee in 2012.  And in an even more shocking revelation, the 2012 Republican candidate will be a Chimp!
Yes, according to Jorge’s third cousin’s sister, Sasparilla, who also happens to be the daughter-in-law to Barbara Bush’s gardener, the elder Bush’s have already adopted and are literally grooming a Chimpanzee for the Presidency.  Yep, you heard it here first.  The next President of the United States of America will be a Bush.

How, you may ask, am I so certain that the primate Bush will sweep into the White House?  Simple, given that Obama has broken the mold, Americans are clearly ready for even bigger change in 2012.
I even hear Bush Jr. Jr. or “P” as he will undoubtedly come to be called, is so cock sure he’s going to win that he’s already considering potential appointees.  The name floated most notably so far is another famous ex-actor, Cheetah (of Tarzan fame) who is being considered for either the role of Vice President or Secretary of State.  I sure as heck would trust a Bush/Cheetah ticket more than I ever did Bush/Cheney. 

What do you think?  Is the US ready for a Chimp in the oval office? 

Some days I hanker for simpler existence. You know, a life afloat in a sea of middle class ennui, unmoored ambitions, and Starbucks iced tea. Do you?

Yet for some cosmic unknown reason, I’m a magnet for high drama and complication. I can mutate the most innocuous of situations into danger and intrigue.

Take my recent road trip to the Tarheel state for instance. That day the sky had the distinct look of the opening sequence of the Simpsons: whipped cream fluffs of clouds dappling a sky blue horizon. Fall hung lightly in the air, the ups and downs of hilly trees lining I-40 all acrispining golden hues, fiery reds and chocolate browns.

We were all lulled into a false sense of happiness. Little did we know what awaited us over the next hill, the upcoming dale? Maybe we should have paid attention to the signs. First there was an exit for Batcave, NC. Is there a Gotham City in North Carolina? Anyway, I began to feel like God was a messin with me cause the next exit was Mocksville.

Shortly thereafter we rolled into the Piedmont Triad area. I always knew China had a big issue with organized crime but never considered they were a pernicious problem here in the U.S., especially in rural North Carolina. Next we came upon the Yakin Pee-Dee river basin and I got an unnatural urge to talk and pee at the same time.

Then I noticed a tan expedition bearing down on us ominously. I clipped along at a healthy 74 explaining the ten mph rule to my daughter, “Just so long as you keep at nine miles per hour under the speed limit you’ll never be caught.” She was the first to notice the SUV passing us was an unmarked police car. So there began a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

On moment slick willy copper was ahead of me.

The next I would find myself unconsciously accelerating past 75 and he would come roaring up from behind causing me to hit the brakes setting off red brake lights of guilt and shame.

Just then we passed a truck that had “To walk on water you have to jump out of the boat” stenciled on it’s side. This just fed into my growing sense of invincibility. Distracted by a fascinating story on NPR about ‘sex lives of sloths’ I nonchalantly passed 80mph. The next thing I knew lights were aflashin on the damnable tan expedition behind me. I started to move over conceding abject defeat. And he just roared past me. Thank God for small mercies.

So have you ever been pulled over for speeding?
Do you ever hanker for a simpler existence?
Ever traveled on I-40? Ever notice they are endlessly fixing that damnable road?

Have you ever been torn by conflicting urges? Frozen in inaction, angsting an impending decision or course of action, Hamleting your precious life away?

So I have. In fact, some would say I gain some perverse pleasure from this purgatorial state of being. I, of course, would disagree.

So to frame today’s story I must give you two key pieces of information about me.

One, I have an almost maniacal urge to eat healthily. Thus, lots of lean meats, whole grains, fruits, veggies, the works. I almost never eat red meat. Hamburgers make me cringe.

Two, I adore a bargain. I have been known to commit unnatural acts to get a good deal. It is like I’m hardwired to pay less than retail. Of course, while some would call me “cheap,” I prefer “thrifty”.

So recently we found ourselves flying down I-40 and hungry. As we pulled into a supercenter to buy gas, we noticed a Wendy’s Hamburary grafted onto its side. And in big bold letters “Double Stack Burgers for 99 cents.”

In an instant I found myself betwixt the Sylla of good diet and the Charybdis of a tasty deal. I became wracked with internal conflict. Should I not be such a prude, loosen up my dietary restrictions and enjoy some juicy cow flesh? I mean in calories per cents you can’t beat the double stack. It practically screams “eat me and get fat”.

Or should I buck up and order a baked potato with broccoli? Maintain my pristine state of being, unpolluted by deliciousness? I mean, I’ve long since given in to the fact that whatever tastes really really good is horrible for my body and thus developed a taste for spiced cardboard.

As I shuffled up to the dumpish cashier lady wearing a grease-spattered blue denim shirt, she let loose a hail of joviality that almost bowled me over.
“What a wonderful day, good sir,” she beamed with pernicious genuineness.
“What can I get for you on this most glorious of days?”

Before I could respond, I thanked god I wasn’t packing heat otherwise I’d have gone postal on her right then and there. The vision of this Wendy’s girl getting cut down in barrage of my dietary grief ran like a Youtubed video in the back of my mind.

I stood motionless for a good thirty seconds while the people behind me grumbled and Grease Momma mockingly smiled at me like she could see straight through to the angst churning in my soul.
“Um, double stack,” I finally bah humbugged.
“Would you like our tasty lettuce and fresh tomato on that as well, good sir?”
“Nah, just the meat, honey. Why spoil it with ridiculous veggies?”
With this she perked up. “I think I can get them to make it a triple stack for you at no extra charge!”
“Grand,” I replied, “Just grand.”

So have you ever been internally conflicted?
How did you resolve your angst?
Do you eat healthy?
Do you crave a bargain?