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8/19/2005
CAMP DRUNKALOT
It’s the dying dog days of summer here in Hotlanta. As we head toward Labor Day
every year I suddenly realize everything I didn’t get around to doing that I
mean to do over the summer – more camping trips, various car improvement
projects, travel and debauchery. Such is the life of mortal man – there’s never
enough time and/or resources to do everything you want (unless you’re Michael
Jackson, and look where that got him.)
I’d been planning a camping trip the last couple of weekends, only to have the
daily deluge put a damper on my plans, so when the forecast for last weekend
looked better than usual I took Friday off, tossed the gear in the truck and
headed for the hills. About 3 miles from camp it started raining. I grumbled a
few curse words but it looked like an isolated shower – isolated right over the
spot I was going camping. The forestry service road that leads to my relatively
secret spot is challenging on a dry day. As the rain came down so hard I
couldn’t see I just shook my head and giggled. I considered turning back and
heading to my folks to borrow a four wheel drive vehicle, but that would mean
moving all my stuff from one truck to the other and having to go back and do it
again on Sunday, so I pulled over at a gas station and got a coke and watched it
dump the very heavens down around me.
I continued on the last couple of miles and arrived at the dirt road just as the
last drop fell. The fates, God, chance, or whatever you believe in had given me
at least that much of a break. Though the road would still be a muddy, rutted
disaster, at least I’d be able to see the mess I’d be driving into.
After the use of a lot of savage off-road driving skills in SW’s little two
wheel drive truck with street tires on it, I arrived at camp. I immediately set
to work putting up a tarp, fearing the return of the seemingly endless storms of
late. SW had “borrowed” a massive blue tarp from her father during one of our
trips to Texas (he still asks after it when he calls, three years later) which I
used to build a virtual cathedral of a shelter in which I and the other guys
could relax should it become necessary.
But of course the very preparations themselves meant they were unnecessary. The
tarpathedral seemed to act as a talisman, keeping all storms at bay. By the time
I set up my tent and lugged my other supplies to the site, the sky was clear.
When other degenerates arrived a few hours later I’d already had a soak in the
river, lunch and a rum punch.
Saturday was close to perfect – hot, clear, quiet. We got out of the river to
eat lunch, only to jump right back in. Played some card games in the evening,
then jumped in the river again before relaxing around a campfire, grilling
Italian sausages, playing games and telling tall tales.
Once in a while an evening is so perfect I actually don’t want to be two places
at once. Sure, there were some fun shows in town I wanted to see, parties I’d
been invited to, exotic locales I’d like to visit, even a lovely girlfriend home
alone for the weekend, but for those few hours the only wishful thinking
distractions involved the Swedish bikini gymnastics team, and I have yet to find
an activity that’ll turn those thoughts off.
But some things you learn to live with.
Besides, we got back in time to catch the Atlanta Rollergirls’ first official
match. Who needs Scandanavian blonde gymnasts when you can watch
punky/gothy/tattooed girls on rollerskates beating the crap out of each other?!?
Full review coming soon.
BLASPHEMY
Last episode’s commentary on Cindy Sheehan generated quite a few responses. Rant
on!
we're all allowed to have our own opinions about Sheehan, that's for certain -
but I think losing a son in a war for all the reasons you agree old "W" lied
about, manipulated, etc...well, he owes her some facetime - to me she is a
symbol of the American People demanding some acknowledgement of his wrong
doings....I support her and Melanie House for doing all they are allowed to do
in a democratic society. It's their right. Camp on....
degenerate MBF
On the contrary, her vigil is worthwhile for many reasons, but any degenerate
should enjoy the complete consternation she is causing the right, as well as the
utterly vile things it is causing them to say about a woman who lost her son in
a war.
degenerate AG
On one CNBC interview, I saw a group with a big red banner for the Oklahoma
Militia near "Camp Casey." Perhaps the flypaper theory of Iraq could also be
used to catch some of the right-wing domestic terrorists who voted for Bush.
While I think that Sheehan has made her point, and that very little more can be
gained by continuation of her protest except perhaps giving some wingnut a
chance to get liquored-up and haul out his AK-47, I have to make one point with
regards to Dubya's refusal to meet with Sheehan and receive his predictable
earful. That point is hypocrisy. Remember when Mr. Bush cut short a previous
vacation to spend taxpayer dollars to fly him and his staff of former
Iran-Contra pardonees back to the White House so that he could sign a resolution
to interfere in the Florida case of Terry Schaivo?
If Dubya had sucked it up and gotten it over with, it would be over with. I am
so thankful that he and his advisors are such fools as to let it go on as long
as they did, and special thanks to the Bill O'Reilly's and Gordon Liddys of the
right wing advocacy press for making such incredible fools of themselves trying
to make personal attacks upon Sheehan. What remains to be seen now is whether or
not those running the protest have enough sense to know when to quit and
redirect their energies to other avenues, most notably, camping on the doorsteps
of their congresspersons who will be up for election in 2006. There is where you
will find out whether the RNC is willing to give up the House and Senate to keep
the White House.
Even more troubling is that if the domestic political situation and his falling
poll numbers do not seem to be phasing his party, what do these people have
planned that make such inattention politically feasible?
degenerate DP
Editor’s response:
Good point about the Terry Schaivo parallel. Of course, in the few days since I
wrote my initial thoughts on this things have changed. Cindy has expanded her
rant to include all of American history, then left the camp to take care of her
ailing mother. Others have set up a very Vietnam-era style protest in her place,
something I didn’t think this country could get together in these apathetic
times. Now if only we had the numbers for something truly newsworthy, or even
better to change who we have in charge of this country…
In related news, this may be the article that convinces me we have no hope of
making Iraq a better place than we found it and should just get the hell out:
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1096488,00.html?cnn=yes
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