Thoughts That Come Out At Night

Marlette, MI

I was searching for news, I was on the prowl, screaming and standing and crouching. I knew it could be anywhere. My knees began to hurt as I had been doing this across an entire golf course in a tiny town called Marlette. It’s puny, there is no other explanation for the town.

So, I breathed heavily and smelled smell-a-lee, and caught wind of, a little news. Not world news about banks and people being mean to each other on purpose. Not trying to help people that have tried and the jobs are gone.

Not the news about how wonderful or terrible our pals, Mitt and Barack are. Empathy from these two would not be a problem, being able to relate is the least of their worries. We know, that obviously they know how the average American citizen feels. It’s easy for both of them to relate.

They both can understand how it feels to be a normal citizen in the United States. They have worked their butts off until someone said here is some more $. Have fun. They get it! Us, with our whining. Our tuna fish sandwiches and bag of chips. I can’t wait until they hang out with me and just watch a movie. Hey how did you like that ending? I can really imagine having a real discussion with both of our candidates.
Mitt and Obama are just a couple of ole pals you would call over for the game on a 17 inch tv/vcr/dvd player, and you could rely on them being there no matter what!

By this time we have so may problems to fix you feel like you’re at Chuck E. Cheese’s bopping those things that pop up with your club. Smack smack. Or the person standing at a dam putting pieces of chewed bubble gum on cracks holding it together.

It makes me sad to see how far the people that are supposed to be representing us have become a Hollywood version caricature of a normal person. Nah, it makes me happy. Go Hollywood Washington. Who cares right?

What a shame… I can’t say anything about how politics are a joke. The people that get in there are a joke. They talk and talk and they hear themselves talk, they get recorded talking they watch themselves talking. They talk so much that they forget that they are there to do something. What is it? They don’t know anymore. Yeah, that dude needs to shut up, it was hard to find a picture with his mouth closed.

Take money from lobbyists and put that in the secret pocket of your suit. Apples rot, and so has the District of Columbia.

Anyway……..

Sorry………

This has been the whole point of the story.

I was tip toeing across lush grass with my antenna set on high- set for news. This was the real news. There was a simple Caucasian, highly forgettable guy teaching tennis lessons to two Indian children. They were getting a pretty good work out in. Their instructor had been really seeing an improvement in their foot work and hitting. I knew this because of my antenna.

This is the news… A woman. A child. Walked. Slowly. Lazily. Passed the tennis court. I heard the child ask the mother, “What sport is that?” The mother responded, “That’s baseball, honey.”

News can be so real.

I saw the instructor who had obviously heard that dialogue reach toward his heart and brain simultaneously, I knew how he felt because he had gone into a fetal position to protect himself from the danger of stupidity. It hadn’t helped. He got back up and hit an easy forehand for the female child.

Stupidity had won today.

We have tomorrow, world please make an effort..

Coyote Rush

You forget so easy.