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Sunday, August 19, 2012

Observations from the Back of a Parade

Yes, my ebullient folk loved me.

well, let's back to some reality here.  I was one of a dozen people marching for a favored political candidate on Saturday morning, and that candidate was not me.

(reference to long-running joke used to shut down arguments turning nasty in election years, to wit:  "well, if nobody can agree, then I presume you will all be supporting me for Benevolent Dictator For Three Lifetimes.  Everything will be fine, and my ebullient folk will always be happy."  shuts a crowd down and disperses them better than a tank car full of tear gas.)

so I'm one of four people cutting, weaving along handing out candidate stickers to anybody with a hand up.  reach to slap a bug, you got a sticker.

what we see is that kids are kids, they like things that come around that have pretty colors and/or are candy.  kids were plastered with everybody's stickers, spray paint the ballot black and push it in the scanner so everybody wins and all get prizes.

adults are way cautious.  those who don't want to seem involved were sitting behind the sidewalks, way back there 4 or 5 yards.  approach within half that distance, see a scowl.  bet they didn't see anything they liked... not the clown car with a clown boat on the back and a toy fish on a kiddie rod.  not the calliope 90 years old.  not the bands.  not even their candidate.  if still alive lo these many generations.

those who came for the parade and not for spitting practice are on the curb with the kids.  most of them won't take a sticker either.  oh, no, then we'd be "involved."  some will take stickers along straight party lines... all for one, and one for all, either red or blue.  only a rare few will mix 'em up.

the parents who are holding a zipper bag with the kids' candy in it, to be doled out later, or not, might have one sticker at the most.  more likely, the kids' stickers are on the bag, too, and face down.

I interpret this as nobody wants to be within the boundaries of a decision.

so they get the gridlocked government they deserve.

and we suffer, too.

meanwhile, some weasel has already started stealing signs from front yards, and based upon the last presidential election, I am starting to reinforce mine with a sheet of metal or plywood behind them, and none of the flimsy lift-up stands for the plastic cardboardy ones.  tear down, don't build up.  sneak around and don't stand up.

my, wonderful place we got here today.

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