Someone up the road a ways is flying the flag upside down.
It’s fair, I thought. Someone across the street had been doing likewise under the previous administration. What’s good for the goose, etc.
I had been debating whether to fly a flag at all on this Fourth of July, right side up or otherwise. Part of me feels that to fly the flag at all hints of complicity with the brigands, featherbedders and toadies who snuggle up to it as though Old Glory were a young girl on Epstein Island.
It’s one of the reasons I never wear the stars-and-stripes jersey some wiseguy at USA Cycling awarded to me for being a National Champion Pain in the Ass, or something very much like that.
Sure, I earned it. But actually wearing it? I dunno.
“Hey, check out the senior citizen in the national-champ kit. He must’ve been something before electricity. I didn’t know Depends made bib shorts. And what’s that thing he’s riding? Steel? Bar-end shifters? Rim brakes? Yo, Rip Van Weinmann! Wake up and smell the future! Haw haw haw!
• • •
So, yeah. When Herself and I rolled out for this morning’s ride I was not wearing the stars-and-stripes. Yet I was rockin’ the red, white, and blue, as hard as I could, for anyone who cared enough to take notice.
Red Steelman Eurocross (USA) and Giro gloves (Vietnam). White Rudy Project helmet (China), cotton headrag (ditto), Patagonia undershirt (USA), and Gore socks (?). Blue Voler jersey (USA), a match for the decals on the Eurocross and the Cane Creek Crono X Cross wheels (?). The bibs were Voler (USA) — not Depends— in basic black, to match my Sidi shoes (Romania) and my aura.
Quite a few of our fellow Americans were getting their heart rates up despite the smoky haze applying a gray filter to the normally beautiful blue skies. Joggers, dog-walkers, e-bikers, you name it. The quail were mostly under cover, but we saw a few bunnies and one deer curled up in a shady spot against a Sandia Heights house for sale.
And what’s with all the crows lately? Could be ravens, I suppose. Quite a conspiracy of them, too. Someone should write a poem.
• • •
When we got home a few of the Spanish-speakers that so frighten the nation’s mismanagement were prepping a neighbor’s place for stucco in the 94-degree heat. Another will be working a checkout lane at a nearby grocery until 10 p.m. I know this because she told me so.
“Gonna miss the barbecue and everything,” she said, ringing up my purchases, mostly the ingredients for that most American of condiments (salsa).
Our post-ride lunch was some Mexican red rice and savory ground beef left over from last night’s dinner, that most American of dishes (tacos), with a couple of scrambled eggs and a sprinking of Irish cheese. The last of the taco filling will be put to use tonight in that most American of meals (pizza).
• • •
But we were talking about flags, yeah? I put ours out, right side up. They’re nothing special, just a couple of cheap promotional items dumped on the property years ago by some long-forgotten real-estate shithead with zero respect for flag etiquette. Nevertheless, Herself and I agreed that we should hew to the gospel preached to us by our late friend and neighbor Marv’ Berkman.
Shortly after we moved in next door to Marv’, once I had gotten the feeling that he wasn’t your standard-brand, hard-right Bibleburger, I asked him why he flew the flag day in and day out.
And the old Chicago saloon picker sez to me he sez (stop me if you’ve heard this one before):
“I just want those guys to know they’re not the only ones who can fly it.”
“Part of me feels that to fly the flag at all hints of complicity with the brigands, featherbedders and toadies who snuggle up to it as though Old Glory were a young girl on Epstein Island.”
Yeah…me too POG. My American flag got somewhat shredded by high winds/tree limbs. Feeling disassociated from this government, I took it down, turned it upside down and hoisted her back up for a few months. Finally replaced it with a state flag and a new Ukraine flag and that’s what will fly until Adolph tRump is no longer. While that asshole is bloviating here and there, 350,000 of us are without power in 90 degree temps and no….it ain’t a dry heat. He’s forcing our utility company to burn coal!!
“Asshole” is too good a word for that barely ambulatory bag of bullshit. At least an asshole serves a purpose.
Out here in the West it’s all fires, all the time. I don’t even hear the usual palaver about “thoughts and prayers” from that gang of highwaymen in DeeCee. Too busy transferring all the gold from Fort Knox to Mar-a-Lago, I expect.
I put mine up this morning. Just to make clear its my friggin flag too. I’m with Marv on that. So it is out front of the garage, clearly visible, along with the big black and white RESIST sign.
And lest we forget the real issues,
I put ours up because it was a flag that my Dad put out and I want to continue the tradition in memory of him. He is an old WWII vet and the house of his surviving spouse deserves it. I could care less if the biggest country’s loser supporters think that I am with them. They’re already ignorant enough to have voted for the loser so I don’t believe most of them are aware of anything more than what they are told to believe. One of these days I’m going to paint a big tunnel image on the concrete wall at the end of my street and have a sign that says “Trump Rally” with an arrow pointing in the tunnel direction, just to see how many ignorant fish I can catch….. Meep! Meep!
You can’t go wrong with a Looney Tunes reference around here, Wile E. That’s a tradition I can always get behind.
Here’s the song for the 4th.
Well chosen, sir. That’s one I haven’t heard for a while.
Dog bless you Marv! We have no flag to display and did a normal day. The weather messed with donny dainty digits plans today and hopefully will tank them entirely. The world’s in a tangle.
Here might be a chuckle or two for those of you that appreciate irony. I live in Oregon within sight of the Columbia River. To the north is Washington that has legalized fireworks, while Oregon is a little more controlled and restricts most public fireworks. Earlier this evening as the folks in Washington began to assemble on the north side of the river for a town (on the Oregon side) sponsored fireworks display that takes place over the water, some of them decided to play around with some of their legally purchased fireworks. It wasn’t long before smoke was emanating from the area and a small grass fire began eventually burning about 2 acres. The burned area is on the edge of an airfield in Washington where aerial fire aircraft are based and two aircraft returned to base while the grass was dancing in the flames. But the local quick response crews quickly gained control of the situation. Not completely unpredictable but still funny. As the big fireworks show kicked off at 10PM PST when the first big boom sounded, I stumbled across the room and stepped out on the balcony of our luxury villa to view the start of the show. Not only was there fireworks blasting in the sky, but directly across from the fireworks launch area, again on the Washington side, another grass and vegetation fire had been triggered. This second fire was closer to homes on the shoreline in that area. As the town fireworks show wrapped up, the fire on the other side of the river still burns 35 minutes later, and there are several other private fireworks still being launched into the air around the airfield across the river. Tongue burning into cheek, but I guess the plan is to allow private fireworks users to trigger small fires in the area to burn off the grass and other vegetation, along with chasing off any shoreline homeless folks that might be in the area. It seems ironic but then the folks in this area did majority vote for the biggest loser ever. Fireworks in the west. Aren’t they grand.
It sounded like Dien Bien Phu here last night. The official fireworks were down at Balloon Fiesta Park, but there were plenty of unofficial ones too, from the sound of it, though our traditional cul-de-sac display was a no-go, the kids it having been created to entertain having moved east with mom and their new stepdad.
Pyrotechnics. Just what you want in a waterless high-desert community. I’m surprised we escaped with only the one small fire down at the bosque. So far, anyway.
Meanwhile, speaking of fires, it seems stage three of the Tour de France may be in danger of cancellation due to conflagration. Is nothing sacred?
Going dark for a little while before the bullshit drowns me. I have a new, to me, song to learn before the jam next Saturday.
Some days I feel like an alligator, with just eyes and nostrils above the swampwater.
Shawn’s pyro story doesn’t surprise me in the least. While “they” may not have been born stupid, “they” sure practice it a lot. And “they” were out blowing off their fingers and hands all over the county late last night.
As the mid Michigan power outage continues so does the monsoon. For crying in the night, couldn’t some of this aqua land where needed? We are living off our solar field battery backup which amazingly still generates watts into the battery when its fekking cloudy if not raining!! So with no juice from the kaput grid, we can still run stove, fridge and freezer as well as the beloved air fryer. Sure no AC and it’s dark in here but so what? I can hold out easily the next 2 days until the dudes go back to work and get the grid going. Turns out storms during a national holiday means no one wants to work even for big $$$. Oh, and the utility companies will ask (and get) another rate increase from the State. Even a dolt like me can track the campaign dollars from the utility companies into the grubby candidates hands.
Jeezo, Herb ol’ scout. Good on yis for being prepared. That sounds like some Texas-level shit.
After our last longish outage we bought a little Anker Solix dealie-whompus to keep a couple gizmos ticking along in the icy darkness at the End of Days. It should go without saying that we’ve never had to use it. I should probably check to see that it’s fully charged.
We have the usual complement of portable power banks, candles, battery-powered lanterns, flashlights, and headlamps, an ancient Coleman two-burner stove, and a couple smaller bikepacking stoves. A half-dozen coolers in various sizes. Enough non-perishables for a few days.
We’d miss that refrigerated air if the grid croaked for a few days right about now, though. We’ve got a hot spell rumbling in.
What I can tell all readers is make double damn sure any power banks are charged up every month. And I can also report my Goal Zero battery products suck royally. None of them hold a charge anywhere near their promised specs. Maybe their jumbo batteries are ok but their power packs and batteries blow. The only product I have worth a hoot is the Lighthouse 600 and one has to be thrifty with how much light you cast or suddenly…you won’t. But the 5.11 Tactical pen lights are amazing and have been used majorly the past 3 days.
totally agree on flying the flag. Who says only the ass-hats who roll coal in their stupid Tonka trucks get to fly old glory??
Besides . . . I paid my buck-o-5
?? Freedom isn’t free It costs folks like you and me And if we don’t all chip in We’ll never pay that bill Freedom isn’t free ?? No, there’s a hefty fuckin’ fee And if you don’t throw in your buck o’ five Who will? ??
If nothing else, a prominent flag might cause the ass-hats to pass you by when they decide to visit people on their List at 3 in the a.m.
“Huh. This guy’s flyin’ a flag. Let’s move on. Who’s next on the List?”