you believe in Santa Claus, the Democratic Party or forever,
stop reading now. I don't want to be responsible for bursting anyone's
bubble. But these past couple of weeks have been hell
of emotions -- and not the good kind of rollercoaster. Oh no, this
rollercoaster is manned by a carnie-gone-bad. There's no stopping,
or getting off the ride in the foreseeable future. But, emotions
aside, I am happy to step out of this beat-down town called Jadedville
in order to explain myself with more objectivity and panache.
You see, I just never believed in Santa Claus
ever. The whole
story is just so implausible, it doesn't make sense. I mean, it
was drilled into our little heads to never talk to strangers, and
yet, my parents seemed almost gleeful that some strange fat guy,
(oops - Jadedville), I mean weight-challenged man was to
arrive in the wee hours, led by a team of spunky reindeer, to then
sneak into the house via the chimney, or busted screen door, depending
on your socio-economic status
then, dressed in Red (hardly
a clandestine color), quickly pile fifty presents under the Christmas
tree, eat a light snack, then scamper away into the night without
making a sound, tracking in mud or setting off alarms. Okay, reindeer-on-the-roof?
Please. You can tell when there's a squirrel on the roof -- again,
But, for my parent's sake, I went along with the charade. It seemed
to make them happy, and being a good co-dependent, this was highly
important to me. I would even use my great acting ability to convince
my little brothers and sisters that I believed in Santa.
Tatum O'Neal shouldn't be the only nine-year old ever to win an
Oscar. Boy, was I good. I even volunteered every year to make the
cookies and pour the milk for jolly, Ole St. Nick. So, you see,
this is where it all began
having to believe in something
I found ridiculous just to make those whom I love, happy.
Similarly, I was very convincing to my friends that I believed Senator
Kerry had it in the bag. Proudly displaying my "Wax Bush"
bumper sticker, canvassing the 'hood, raising donations
was decidedly on the way. Yet somehow, on its journey, it got lost.
And in turn, the Democratic party has become anything but a party.
It's now a mere shell of its former self, a downtrodden group of
idealists in a land taken over by fatalists. Fatalists who believe
that the Lord Jesus will soon take them out of this immoral world
to where the streets are paved with gold
like Bel-Air, but
Heaven. That's why W doesn't give a hoot about the environment.
Environment , schmironment - he's headed for the great beyond
Earth is merely the ugly stepchild.
When pollsters asked Bushies why they preferred the incumbent to
Senator Kerry, the majority of voters said they voted based on their
moral values, i.e., W is a man of faith, a Christian. The
largest percentage of Republicans that were crucial in handing the
election over to Mr. Bush is a sect of people known as Evangelical
Christians -- a group of folks who believe the end is near. They're
on pins and needles, waiting for their Lord and Savior to return
and escort them all to heaven, while those of us left behind, e.g.
sinners and sodomites, destroy earth and mankind in a fight to the
Now when one looks at the definition of "sect," it reads:
a small, close-knit group with strongly held views that are sometimes
regarded as extreme by the majority. Sounds scary. Isn't that
why we're spending billions jinxing Jihad, to destroy a sect of
aggressive Muslims? Huh. Muslims. Evangelical Christians
features, with longer beards.
Seriously, what could be more aggressive and extreme than 'editing'
the most revered document in our country -- the Constitution? Because
that's exactly what our Christ-loving Bushies did in over eight
states -- they voted to amend the Constitution to disallow gays
the right to marry. Taxation without representation, remember that
one? Maybe we sodomites should all stop rendering unto Caesar that
which is being used to slap us in the face. And the response from
the Democrats? Nothing. Nada. Okey-dokey artichokey, whatever you
Red-states want, you get. What happened to protecting the right
to life, love, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? There are no
qualifiers in that sentence --straight, gay, white, black, Republican,
Democrat. It literally covers everyone. Every one. I guess
we're just too busy protecting the rights of Iraqis. I mean, sort
of, we've lost a few along the way. And I'm not being glib. My heart
is crushed by the loss of life from this war. But oddly, I'm not
angry at the election outcome, nor at the loss of hope for change.
I'm more embarrassed -- embarrassed to be called an American
because of what that stands for these days.
James Madison, known as the Father of the Constitution, was adamant
about the need for separation of church and state. He believed that
the state should not impose religion on its citizens
And because Mr. I'm-A-Uniter-Not-A-Divider has chosen to blatantly
disregard his forebears, he has created our nation's most divisive
populace since the Civil War. Which, by the way, was fueled by scripture-quoting
slave owners to condone their behavior, Ephesians 6:5-9. That's
right, the Good Book keeping the disenfranchised down... whooda
But let's wrap this up, 'cause it's been an emotionally exhausting
couple of weeks and I need a nap. Between losing the election and
my girlfriend - it's too much. It really came out of nowhere. I
thought the itch wasn't supposed to come until seven years
it's only been four. But then, I did agree to date someone fifteen
years younger. I guess it's my own fault. I bet Donald Trump doesn't
have to put up with this kinda thing
he probably just calls
whatever youngster he's dating into his cedar-walled study and tells
her "You're fired." I got the pink slip over the phone,
while she was away on a business trip. Talk about wanting to reach
out and touch someone.
The pursuit of love
it's Sisyphean. If only the Constitution
had some helpful hints about that one, you know, maybe encrypted
behind John Hancock's signature like in National Treasure.
Enduring love is a misnomer. Jadedville? You betcha. I'm headed
back. To where things are as they seem
there's no sugar-coating
in my town, just low-carb honesty. You don't have to pretend to
believe in something that doesn't exist where I live. No impassioned
bumper stickers allowed.
So when it comes to matters of the heart, proceed with caution.
Don't be caught off guard. Date within your age group (unless they're
blind). And most importantly, when the one you love scribbles in
a flowery, anniversary card: Yours forever, or on a Post-It:
Out walking the dog, xo always
please dear god, don't
take it literally. 'Love' and 'Forever' are simply notions -- sweet
concepts, but meaningless, like Ashlee Simpson.
Remember, I don't want to burst your bubble.
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