Morning Thanks

Garrison Keillor once said we'd all be better off if we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing. I'll try.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

TSC to the rescue


Okay, tell you what--let's start here: it ain't going to happen. The man here celebrated (why don't we call him the MHC) simply will not re-choose his battle-worn running mate because EXVP leaked out on him on January 6th, when the EXVP presided over the Senate confirmation of an election that, for the MHC, went south, despite his endless belly-aching. Should the MHC run again 2024--however unlikely that is--he will not enlist the EXVP to come along side and bootlick as he so sweetly did before. EXVP jilted him. Period. EXVP is out. There's no reason to keep the sign up. It's an anchronism. 

But the sign I can't help but see daily, stays. Drives me nuts.

So the MCH + EXVP is not going to happen, even though the guy down the road (GDR) might well call the whole thing his fondest dream (HFD). So here's the story: the GDR keeps HFD up along the road, even though the insurrection is already half a year in the past and the election which fifty or sixty judges ruled valid ended last November. Pathetically, the sign, HFD, is still out there proudly lauding the MHC and the EXVP. Sick. Really.
 
It's out there every day I drive west into town. Every day. Every night. If I could not see it, I'd be blessed; but I can't not see it, because I can't help but think--as I have for four long years and more, that the ticket HFD continues to celebrate just about ran our country into the ground. What's more, it seems the air is slowly seeping out of the GDR's FD. It's a lost cause, and a damned one at that.
 
However, I wouldn't doubt that GDR feels less likely to pull up HFD and do away with it. After all, he's got an investment in HFD. With his blasted HFD, the GDR has been preaching the glory of the MHC the for more than a year. I can't help but believe the GDR is even more taken with HFD now than he was when he first put it up, a year ago. "In your face," he says, every time I drive by. "Stick it, buddy." He's talking to me--or at least HFD is. And he ain't going to quit.

I wish it weren't true, but I can't look away. HFD obliterates everything else so completely that I can't help but think--and I'm not happy to admit it--that his devotion is as passionate as my derision. Okay, let me come clean here--my hate is as intense as his love.

Up until yesterday, all I saw was the blasted sign; but yesterday I saw the GDR for the very first time. I'd never seen him before. He was retrieving his mail and crossing the highway. He's thin, angular, seemed almost human. I almost pulled the pickup over on the shoulder because while HFD is always planted sturdily in his yard, I'd never really seen the GDR. And there he was, in the flesh. 

What flashed through my mind was a verse from the Bible, the decalogue--you know, Exodus 20, the Sixth Commandment (TSC). Thank goodness for a conscience.

When TSC appeared (imagine a small plane pulling a sign across the sky) a still small voice reminded me that what my instincts were toying with was way, way, way out of bounds. 

Here's my confession of sin: yesterday, TGR was saved by the TSC and so was I.  

Now if I could only dig out HFD.

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