Willowmist's Wanderings

Seriously, who schedules a World Series baseball game on a major holiday? 

Do you know how many houses in our neighbourhood were closed and dark instead of lit up with pumpkins and handing out candy to our merry little trick or treaters?  How many people bought tickets and drove into the city to watch the Phillies lose to the Yankees in the rain instead of staying home to participate in neighbourhood comradery?

I don’t blame the neighbours entirely.  How can I expect them all to prioritize their lives with anything beyond their usual selfish shortsightedness?  But I am truly disappointed in a Major League Baseball team that would place their stupid trophy ahead of a childhood memory.  And don’t tell me that a second World Series championship in Philadelphia is a great childhood memory.  One:  it was game 3, no one was going to win anything on that specific evening.  Two:  it was a night game.  There weren’t more than a dozen kids at that game.  Three:  they fucking lost!  There was no reason on god’s green earth that the game couldn’t have waited until Sunday.

So it rained.  Vaughan was a ninja and he assured me that ninjas don’t mind the rain.  His father was a Jedi and, apparently, a Jedi can will the rain off his body or something.  I was a cat.  a cat with an umbrella.  The only forward-thinking creature in our threesome because cats don’t like to get wet.  We trick-or-treated through the drizzle.  We trick-or-treated through the showers.  We covered about two blocks before the downpour conquered our desire for free candy and forced us indoors.  We made out better than you might expect.  Most folks figured that the rain would lighten their candy traffic so they tended to hand out extras to those of us who did show up.

Happy November 2 everyone.

The world is officially ridiculous.

Last week the Nobel prize people gave an award to President Obama.

Why?

What has he done?

The answer is nothing.  He gives a good speech and he has a lot of lofty ideas.  I mean it.  I love universal health care.  I think it would be fabulous if he managed to get through the thick American skull that the life in ‘life, liberty and pursuit of happiness’ includes health.  But he hasn’t actually done that yet.  I think it would be better than awesome if he brings home all the American troops currently wasting their time in Iraq.  I know he has a plan in place.  But he hasn’t actually done that yet.  Seriously, if he does even half of what he talks about, then he would probably deserve a Nobel Peace prize - but, that’s my point - IF.  He hasn’t done it yet!  How are you going to give a guy a prize for talking about good shit?  I don’t want to suspect that a black man got a prize for getting elected president in the U.S.  If that is really the case, then shouldn’t the U.S. as a whole get the Nobel Peace prize for actually (and here’s that word again) doing the electing?

So this evening, I read an article about a stupid Halloween costume that has created a huge political stir in Miami.  It’s a space alien wearing a orange prison-type jumpsuit with the words ‘illegal alien’ emblazoned across the front.  It comes with its own green card, which I immediately observed would technically legalize our little alien, but I guess that irony is lost on the target market for the most part.  Anyway, some college professor who clearly needs to get out of his library once in awhile explains to us common masses how this costume perpetuates some idea about foreigners being strange, scary criminals and that the green card actually exacerbates the issue by illustrating how they remain scary and strange even when in possession of legal documents.  Besides that, the orange jumpsuit is similar to those worn by immigrants being held in detention centres while waiting for their fates to be judged and this, he insists evokes many painful memories. 

As an upstanding example of fair and balanced reporting, our story chooses William Gheen to represent the pro-costume side.  He is the head of North Carolina’s chapter of Americans for Legal Immigration and he thinks any attempt to have the custumes pulled amounts to an attack on free speech.  He urges us all to purchase the costume in protest.  He also, the reporter tells us, you know, just incidently, has publicly announced that Latin Americans are perpetuating a Tuberculosis epidemic in the U.S. although, our faithful reporter observes, government data suggests that incidences of the disease are at an all time low.

So hard-working, long-suffering legal immigrants are offended by it and half-baked, insensitive conservatives support the costume.

Not to inject any much-needed logic into this debate, but might I just point out that it’s A FUCKING COSTUME…!!??  Golly folks.  What happened to our senses of humour?

I’ll tell you what:  if Obama can broker peace over the illegal alien costume, I’ll accept that he has earned a Nobel Peace prize.

Happy October 20 everyon. 

I love turning the volume of my television up and down with the commercials all night long.  I love really loud, obnoxious commercials!

I love going from shorts to sweaters overnight.  Yay Philly weather!  It’s too hot or it’s too cold.  It’s a drought or it’s a flood.  Who needs moderation?  Not me!

I love being called at 8pm on a weeknight by someone asking me for money. 

I love paying $4 for an assignment book and $5 for the home and school association and $6 for a listing in and a copy of some school contact book after spending about fifty bucks on a list of school supplies that includes a box of kleenex and a container of hand sanitizer as a mandatory donation to the teacher. Oooo…and if I could also get a list of musical instruments for which the school is going to offer lessons, but is not going to offer actual rentals of for the school year..that would be awesome!  Pretty please?

I love all the ignorance about universal healthcare going around right now.  My favourite story so far is that Obama is going to encourage ‘end-of-life counselling’ for everyone over the age of 60 requiring any major sort of medical care.  First of all, I love how people instantly believe and start passing along the most outrageously ridiculous information if it can distort the public conversation even a little bit.  What is end-of-life counselling?  I think it sounds great!

..and yes, I know the date.  I love holding annual memorial ceremonies long past any sort of meaningful remembrance!  We should start holding an annual memorial ceremony for the tragic burning of the White House back in 1812.  Everytime I think of those horrible soldiers eating the meal that Dolly Madison had to abandon in order for her to save the big painting of Washington from looters…my blood just boils.

Happy September 11 everyone.

Oh!  I almost forgot..and that’s because it was daytime and I couldn’t hear it, but I really love construction on 611.  Yeehaw!  The beep, beep, beep of big machines in reverse and bright lights so loud men with foul mouths can work at night.  You know you are all just green with envy right now!

I drove behind a royal blue PT Cruiser this evening.  Its license plate is GJM 6352 and it turned off from Blair Mill Rd a couple of streets before Country Line Rd.  It had two bumper stickers on the back.  One said, “Yes, I am a witch.  Deal with it!” The other said, “I believe in magick.”

So I’m driving along, thinking, oh look, a fellow Pagan, except that I’m sorry she is specifically identifying herself as Wiccan.  I’m thinking that the one bumper sticker makes her look foolish and the other makes her too confrontational.  The only thing I dislike more than a pushy, preachy Christian is a pushy, preachy Pagan.  So as I am contemplating the faults and virtues of the new age movement, damned if the Wiccan driver in front of me doesn’t toss a cigarette butt out of her window!

Now I am not a big fan of dogma, but, if the Pagan religions have any common theme that ties them together, it is a respect for the earth.  How is a true Pagan going to inhale noxious chemicals and then blow them out into the atmosphere, much less throwing litter on the ground?  The pure ignorant hypocrisy of that single act kinda makes me hate people even more.

Happy September 3 everyone.

So my husband makes me wake up every morning to NPR.  That’s National Public Radio for those who are not familiar with that particular combination of letters. 

Because I believe that people should be free to live as they please in accordance with basic laws, a lot of folks assume that I am liberal.  I’m not.  In fact, I am libertarian.  They’re different.   Trust me.  Although I make a few exceptions, I don’t believe that it is generally the government’s job to either support my lifestyle or regulate it.  And that is a point at which most democrats and I part ways.

So, as I was saying, I don’t like NPR for the most part.  It’s biased, bleeding heart tends to stain my rugs and I find most of the regulars to be rather patronizing and condescending and pretentious.  That Terri Gross woman asks some of the most torturously inane questions I’ve ever heard.

I wake up to that stuff.  I’m tired and grumpy and still a little groggy, and I’m listening to someone talking about how little press time is being dedicated to important topics like Iraq and Afghanistan (or, let’s be serious for a moment, really any topic of any real international importance.)  They were comparing the coverage of boring ol’ Iraq with that of, say Michael Jackson’s death.  Someone was trying to make the point that trivial shit like Michael Jackson maybe being murdered distracted the American public from things like the failed hunt for Osama bin Laden.  And I’m laying there in bed, contemplating dragging my ass to the shower, when it occurs to me that Michael Jackson’s death is really very convenient for bin Laden.  And I turn to my husband, who is similarly laying in bed, but not even contemplating getting up yet (in fact, he may actually be snoring,) and I cry:

“Ohmigod!  Osama bin Laden killed Michael Jackson!”

Tom’s been married to me for a long time.  Eleven years, in fact.  So he just grunts in a vaguely affirmative way and rolls over.  But I really think I’m on to something here.

Happy August 25 everyone.