Bad Day?

Woke up, beer was stale, coffee cold and weak, it’s still 2012, and then I looked at last week’s blog–What is an American Patriot?

Damn. What a rant. All about freedom, too. Blek!

But, today is so much better. Forget patriots. Just look at Twitter or Facebook, or listen to the news—everyone’s a patriot. I have to move on.

There’s really nothing I can do to prevent war. Since about 3000 B.C., war has been a continuous human event. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_wars_before_1000 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lists_of_wars

Find out how to make shields and arrows out of bronze and look out baby, I’m gonna take over your pissant little Stone Age community. Gunpowder—oh hell. Nuclear bombs, computer-assisted, laser-guided bombs—one touch and I get my gold, my water, my oil, and you’re toast.

So what are my chances of getting rid of war? Rat’s ass chance in a box full of cats.

Back to business. All I have to do today is get up, have some coffee, edit a novel or two, drive to the store for beer, and watch Wimbledon. Of course there will be the smattering of Graham Norton, perhaps Preditor for the 1213^th time(that’s a prime by-the-by), and finishing up Dashiell Hammit’s The Maltese Falcon (It’s old, but damn!). Maybe cut the grass, but only if it’s not raining and it’s green. I do enjoy the color green, don’t you? And when the grass is cut it’s so neat looking and even greener. Then again, I can still see the dog when she pees. She has to work to get through the taller grass and she needs to struggle a little to keep her legs strong. A fourteen-year-old lab needs all the help she can get.

Also, the mower uses oil and gas. Pity.

I would like to ride my bike thirty or forty miles, but since I’m not quite as young as I used to be (I did mention it was 2012, right?), maybe cut that in half. Actually, I did that, and the damn Poudre river is as black as soot—exactly as black as soot. How the hell am I gonna catch any fish in a river full of soot this summer? Probably not. Well, there’s plenty of other rivers I can drive the camper trailer to and have a jolly old time. A forest fire is such a hassle.

There is a damn good movie coming on tonight, and I gotta get a new blog out, so I’ll need electricity until about 10pm. That only uses coal, so I’m okay there—if only coal were a bit cleaner. That pizza and beer was damn good. A man has to assuage his sufferings somehow. Am I right?

Okay, so the day wasn’t so bad. We’re still at war and I didn’t have to give up a damn thing. Imagine that.

I wonder what it would be like to be eating a protein bar and humpin a seventy pounder (that’s a ground pounder term for hiking with a 70lb pack) over Afghan mountains wondering if that next step could trigger an IED and blow my leg off?

All to keep Big Oil flowing and to allow millions of strangers to enjoy freedom.

No thank you. Not for me. Glad someone else is giving up their life. I don’t even have to give up my movie. Why should I?

Let’s see. Tomorrow I’ll fly a gas-guzzling plane to visit my mom and brother. I hope the plane isn’t late.

Milt

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