News & Politics

Waiting

Shelly

I’m about to go park myself in front of the TeeVee with some leftover Halloween candy, to watch election returns. I have a feeling I’m going to wish I’d asked for tomorrow off, because I’m going to be up way past my bedtime. I’m too excited to sleep, though, so what the hell?

In other news, I haven’t had caffeine in over a week. It’s kind of mind boggling.

That is all. As you were, comrades!

Crankypantsing

Twinkle Twinkle

Shelly

I noticed last week that people were starting to put up holiday lights. I remember when I used to think it was ridiculous to launch into Christmas decorating right after Thanksgiving. And then, it began to happen before Thanksgiving. Now, it’s starting before Halloween.

Stop! The! Insanity!

Also, I wish someone would tell the Bumpasses to put away their horribly tacky–and not in a fun, kitsch kinda way–scarecrow. It’s in the common hallway, on the way to the laundry room, and it bugs the hell out of me. We’re not supposed to leave crap in the hallway, and that scarecrow definitely qualifies as crap.

If it’s still there the next time I do laundry, I’ll try to get a photo of it. It’s, um, special. The best part is that it’s planted in a large flower pot.

Music, News & Politics

Saturday Musical Interlude

Shelly

I talked to my brother yesterday, and somehow, the discussion wandered off into music, and then to John Prine. We grew up with a huge variety of music–from folk, country, and classic rock to heavy metal, glam, and disco. And our step-dad listened to a lot of public radio, so there was a good bit of classical added to the mix, too.


Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore by John Prine

Jesus don’t like killing, no matter what the reason’s for.

When we were kids, the grown-ups would hang out, playing guitar and singing folk songs. John Prine’s music was always a favorite. It’s just as good–and relevant–today as it was then.


Sam Stone by John Prine

I was listening to this one in the car this morning, as I was driving out to Unionville. It made me weepy.

Jesus Christ died for nothing I suppose.

I’m not particularly religious, but that line has always struck a chord with me. All those men and women who volunteered to go to Iraq. All because of a big, fat lie told by petulant, little men. And they’ll all come home–the ones who aren’t killed–damaged. Whatever their personal reasons for going to Iraq, and whatever your personal feelings about wars and the ethics of volunteering to fight them, those soldiers deserve to be told the truth about why they’re fighting.

And those petulant, little men want the world to think that they’re good Christians, while all the while they’re lying and stealing and killing tens of thousands of men, women, and children. It’s mind boggling to think that, if the polls are remotely accurate, roughly half the voters in this country are prepared to put our people, our soldiers, and the people of Iraq, through four more years of this nightmare.

I’d like to wake up from this bad dream on Wednesday morning.