Has anyone ever called Mr. Seagal, Steve? Has anyone ever called a shemagh a he-magh?
The very nature of elections, with all the state and local folks (if your area is lucky enough to have folks, rather than politicians) running, is that you may, in some way, be disappointed. Throw in the presidential race and the measures, propositions up for votes, and this only increases the odds you’ll be blue ’bout something. Quite frankly, I am rubbed wrong on a number of issues. Disappointed not about everything, but certain votes; big or small, my business, which I shall keep anonymous.
But this fact remains- I believe in America, I believe in the West. We’ve a country, a way of thinking that rivals, if not outcompetes, anything out there. And to this idea, I cling. I have no other choice. Perhaps I am the man lolling down whatever the river’s called before the Niagara Falls. (Niagara River? I have never heard of that waterway if so.) Perhaps we’re all in the inner-tube together. That we are one wave away from going over the wet drop. I surely hope not. I consider myself a realist. That whatever challenges curve ahead of us, we will shoulder them. And the country or state or town may not be on the path I would choose, but it is on the road the majority have chosen. And I respect all Americans, however temporarily blinded they may be.
There is a sadness, somewhat, not in the winners of the offices, but in the choices of celebrities who have outed themselves as rabidly against my chosen candidates, propositions, or measures. So with that in mind, I’ve decided to never again spend a dollar in support of any project they are involved. Yes, we live in capitalistic society and yes, I am voting with my dollar. I’ve turned a blind eye at times to go to a movie featuring an actor or actress outspoken in his or her beliefs. No longer will that be the case. The public made you rich and the opposite can be true. You want to graphitti the internet with how you view the world, I support withholding the very dollars that bought you that venomous spraypaint.
Sure, I am one guy. And even though I think I make a lot of money, it still is very little. Small enough to be considered just above the lower-middle class according to the geniuses here. And my money will never be spent towards those who made public their disrespect. (Irony, it lives. I’ve been humming a song tonight by an artist quite extreme in his political views. Copperhead Road. . .)
My selfish worry is about the Navy. I can only be taxed to a certain point. I’ll always probably (maybe, hopefully) have money to take home. But what becomes the Navy? If need be, I’ll take a permanent pay freeze. With the only raise coming as an advancement in rank. This requires no thought. None at all. I think I speak for a lot of guys in uniform. That if personnel pay is a high ticket item, we can surely shoulder a slight reduction. What about ships? Could we not save the Big E from the mothball fleet? The USS Enterprise would save the cost of a new carrier and I’ve heard stories about her capabilities in her prime that boggled my mind.
Should us military guys take on these burdens, other folks need to as well. Starting with welfare recipients. It should not be a generational situation. When I read of three consecutive generations of one family on welfare, I shudder. That, to me, is (chosen) slavery. You are captive, hook, line and lots of sinker, to the government. I too, am in a relationship with the government, and I deploy at her whim, but it’s not akin to slavery.
I had better stop. I’ve all sorts of opinions (on every item in the budget), yet I always endeavor, with varying rates of success, to be apolitical here. I have a shemagh near my computer that I tie over my eyes when I start writing about a balanced budget, tort reform, immigration, or term limits. And women’s issues. Which don’t exist, not in a feminine vacuum as such. All issues we share- do we not have sisters, wives, and mothers? There are no such men’s issues. And spending! All this spending is giving drunken sailors good names. Ach, there I go again. I know this is a vanilla post, with traces perhaps of pecan praline. I really wanted to write something about the rocky road we are on, but it is not my place.
Remember: if you sing songs for a living, I don’t care your political opinion. And if you are blue about the election, think of Canada.