On November 8th, 2016 Donald Trump won the popular vote election for our next president. On December 15th, 2016, the Electoral College did what they were supposed to do (surprising me slightly) and elected Mr. Trump to the White House. On Friday, January 20th, 2017, Donald Trump was ceremoniously sworn in as President of the United States. Anyone with any sense at all poured themselves a stiff one, either in celebration or dismay, and listened to the dulcet voice of the fat lady as one era closed and the next act was ushered in.
That was two hundred and fifteen (215) days ago. You'd think that by now, the SJWs, feminazis, and moonbats everywhere would have settled down to roost and wait for the next election. You'd be as wrong as I am, for you see I thought, oh foolish me, that the commies, idiots, and fascist simpletons supporting Hitlery would have either taken an overdose of their favorite narcotic by now and be quietly heading towards entropy at the speed of decomposition, or moved to Canada (where they'd be Glen Filthie's problem). Boy am I ever dumb.
Shut up, Glen.
Last weekend I went out of town to enjoy life with Big Mike and Doc (PhD in I.T., thesis on artificial intelligence), which the three of us did with great enthusiasm. I'm still not quite right, but let me tell you, it was worth it.
Monday rolled around and Monday afternoon Migraine One called me up to bitch about a mutual acquaintance that's even crazier than she is. Crazier than anyone I know, even casually, and no, I'm not exaggerating. This woman is a loon. So I listened while Migraine One rattled on and on, and finally ran down. Then she started in on some other lefty rant, and mentioned Time magazine. I snapped.
"You can't trust Time," I said. "They lie, and worse, they lie by omission."
"A friend of mine writes for Time (probably true), and they don't lie! You know, you better blah blah blah Trump! blah..."
I hung up the phone. I'd seriously had enough of her for a while. A long while. And that would be that were it not for Sticks and Sweetheart. You see, Migraine One helps support Sticks financially, as he's spent a good portion of his life in poverty (and another portion making a very nice income), but as things are, he's pretty much unemployable now. He's old, and the mileage is high. Sweetheart's health is even worse. She broke a hip recently, and there were complications. When I sent her a get well card, Migraine One called Sticks and told him I only sent it to make her look bad, which is laughable.
So Sticks and Sweetheart, who I really do care about, unfriended me on Facebook, certainly at Migraine One's insistence. She'll do stuff like that, and Sticks really has little choice in the matter. He knows Migraine One, you see.
My thought is, What should I do? I'm thinking that I'll send Sweetheart another get well card, because she still is sick and can't get around well, and I may write to Sticks from time to time. He's in Toledo, I'm in Columbus, so that's about the best way to keep in touch.
And to think the catalyst for this entire business was a presidential election.
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4 comments:
These idiots that tie so much of their self esteem to their political agenda really piss me off. I know that on the worst political day in history, I can still go out and see that the PLANET, God's creation, could care less. In my world, I can be wrong. In theirs, I can't even THINK they're wrong. I wouldn't want to see the world their way for a minute.
I think that if I ever saw the world their way, I'd go blind.
I still can't understand how anyone could get so emotionally involved in an election. Even things I feel strongly about, like higher property taxes, I can't get that hung up on. Weird, huh?
Not weird at all. Just having a life beyond your usually-indefensible world-view. They can't manage it. In most cases. I was just telling Bobby G of a twitter encounter last Saturday that proved they aren't all like that, by a long shot. Most, perhaps...
Mad jack:
I really like the cut of your jib on this...makes sense to me.
I've had friends that for seemingly NO reason chose to stop communicating with me...and I can't recall a damn thing I ever did to precipitate it.
But, water keeps flowing under all those bridges, so I wore my big boy pants and soldiered on.
In my case, didn't need an election to have it happen.
life's too short to sweat the small shit, anyway, unless WE choose to make it the BIG shit.
Goes to show HOW offbeat the crap that hits the fan can wind up.
(we need larger fans...like wind-farm size some days.
Good post.
Stay safe out there.
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