Thursday, November 6, 2014

Comity if Not Heaven Itself?

We didn't have very many lawn signs on my street this past election cycle, much to the chagrin I'm sure of whoever makes the metal feet that go in the lawn and the frame that goes into the sign on the lawn. We sort of like it that way in a we've never actually gotten together to talk about it style though I'm sure if we did, we would.

The one thing we did have this election, and so, too, did you I fear, were For Sale signs on neighbor's houses (singular was deliberate and I'm happy about that) and those worry me a lot more than almost anything anybody seeking office gets printed and posted (okay, eye-catching slogans such as "Smoot Drinks His Own Bathwater" will put me right off your candidate, and cause me to alter my driving pattern but we rarely go to that extreme).

I have to say, sitting here in The Land of Steady Habits, not much was changed to include our Constitution making it easier to vote (an oversimplification, but consider the source) which was rejected at the polls Tuesday. But in terms of who runs the State Government and who rules the roost in the State House, pretty much same-old, same-old.

Not that this will stop those of us who are perpetually unhappy in our own skin from pouting and posturing for the next two years as the government we returned to office still doesn't do what it didn't do before we voted for it again, despite the last time. Huh? Trust me, it's just easier to nod.

At our nation's capital, we're changing the direction of the circles. If anything more than that happens, and trust me when I say I hope something does, it will be to our nearly-complete-and-absolute surprise and very likely by unintentional accident meaning we'll never do it again.

Somewhere Dr. Jerry Harvey is sitting on a hay bale smiling, or perhaps he's grimacing (from a distance the two facial expressions look very much alike), and meanwhile the dogs bark as the caravan moves on. The squirrels in my backyard get nervous whenever anyone mentions peanuts, so no talking during the video, not that we were, or are, are in danger of having anybody thinking who could not hear themselves.  

What's that child's verse, I love? Oh yeah, "I eat my peas with honey, I've done it all my life. It makes the peas taste funny, but it keeps them on my knife."  Soon enough, we'll learn to enjoy the taste of legislative dissonance as we did previously, and previously to that as well. We're gathering the wool to pull over our own eyes; try this cap on it matches your sweater.
-bill kenny       

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