Traveler’s Tip #343
Hang in there, amigos. The road’s a little rough but the end of the story is going to be awesome.
It’s Super Tuesday today and here’s the view from my neck of the woods. In one corner, a well-meaning guy who thinks it would be a good idea for a socialist to lead a constitutional republic (he might consider China or Finland, he’d have a better chance—newsflash, the deal’s rigged Bern) along with a far-left-middle-right-leaning-liberal-conservative(ish) queen-of-the-double-negative-lady who is better and smarter than the rest of us and changes positions/accents daily depending on the crowd (brief pause for cackle). In the other corner (you thought I was going to let them off?) a room full of whining third-graders on substitute teacher day fighting over the marbles (I know you are but what am I? Your mom should show her tax returns…)
Honestly, I’m feeling a bit removed from it all. Like watching a car wreck on TV. I know it’s happening somewhere but I’m separated from it by plasma, wires, and satellites. And besides, I need to go microwave my coffee.
Now you regular readers of my sporadic ponderings (there has to be an oxymoron in there somewhere) know I usually don’t climb down into the political soup, but bear with me. This landscape of Hanna Barbera candidates is just way too tempting.
The flat-screen. Warm, fuzzy, Medialand—the alternate reality. Kind of like Willy Wonka’s joint, filled with Oompa Loompas who’s voices have been marginalized, sound-bited, and watered down in the cotton candy of politically-correct elitism and exclusiveness. Promise them the moon in a box, they buy it every four years—sucker born every minute. Plus they’re orange and weird-looking (wait, it might have been one of the third-graders that said that). Yup, in Medialand, common sense has packed its saddlebags and headed for the hills with The Duke and Honest Abe. Back here in the scared-new-world of common senselessness the shell game continues—man, that lady has fast hands!
So, remember, here in Medialand the moral of the story is that black lives matter, unless you’re actually an African and un-taxable (or a cop). Oh yeah, and Arab Christians being wiped out by the hundreds of thousands are just pesky Christians, after all, who’s going to miss them? Now where did I put my prayer rug? And speaking of Jesus… wait, actually, don’t because exercising your religious freedom infringes on religious freedom or something else collegiate-sounding like that, and of course we need to exclude to be inclusive…. What? Wait, did you just pray? Stop that… now go hug an atheist.
Back in real America, next Tuesday is even more super. Michelle and I are headed back out on the road where real people—you guys—work hard, love, and care. We’ll take a few songs and the love of Jesus to those we meet along the way. Sorry kids, fair warning—you might want to run for your safe place.
So, God, could we please have John Wayne back? Or anyone else that can take a punch and come back swinging? We’re a short on heroes around here.…amen
Now get out there and vote, you taxable units.