This is the Memorial Day weekend here in the Star Spangled Land of Attention Deficit Disorder. Sorry about the snarky snarl to start but most of us have the same sense of history a cat does. Historically we don't vote in large numbers at any time to include every four years for the Presidency and don't get me started on the turnout for local elections.
We don't seem to know anybody who does vote, though we tend to believe voting, in the abstract at least, is a good thing and probably has something to do with democracy though many of us get tongue-tied trying to explain the exact nature of that connection. We're much better at barbecue and the Indy 500 (left turns uber alles) and thank goodness that's what most are us are up to this weekend.
Okay, not the men and women in uniform we've shipped off to fight our wars in a half dozen locales around the world, to include Afghanistan where there's a whole new meaning to the idea of Spring Break and the prognosis on progress doesn't improve when you change languages (though with Google Translate a whole lot of the meaning often changes or disappears).
Speaking of disappearances, neither Lindsay nor Kim have and c'mon, admit it, it's reassuring to know we may never again have a holiday from either of them. Our constant companions, fame and infamy, are interchangeable in our Brave New World and when you can extend the ongoing curtailment, usurpation and suspension of portions of our Constitutionally guaranteed civil rights by enforcement and extension of the Patriot Act, we're getting closer to paying a visit to Ben Franklin's neighborhood. And wouldn't he have looked silly in an orange jumpsuit? Si.
But don't worry. Get the set warmed up and the beer cooled down because the race will be starting right after the pre-race pre-show pre-race show (probably brought to us by the Home Depot or the other guys) is over and we're not sure when that will be, but it'll be soon. Meantime have a beer and a burger and try not to think too much. I know, there's not a lot of danger of that happening, but you can't be too careful these days.
We (too) willingly see this as the unofficial start of summer, though summer doesn't technically start for another three weeks, says the calendar, and tend to look off into the distance and get uncomfortably silent when someone wants to talk about the actual purpose and history of the holiday that we've built a weekend around. Sorry, didn't mean to harsh your buzz and please return your seatback to its upright position. And fight for what's true and smile at the gates because their hate don't belong to you.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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