I heard that you featured the Backstreet Boys on one of your
fancy televised award shows the other night and the crowd loved it. The fucking
Backstreet Boys. Are you kidding me? But you know what, County Music? I
ain’t even mad.
The other day a hubristic
31-year-old “senior White House official” made a widely televised cringe-worthy
appearance that reminded me that I wanted to write about one of my brothers who
runs a blog titled Ignorance without Arrogance. Don’t worry. His blog is not about politics. Neither is this post.
Judging from daily news events and social media content I’m seeing lately, though, a lot of us
would be served by giving the concept behind the title at least some thought.
I’m not the kind of person who sends letters to
newspaper advice columnists. I’m the kind of person who writes letters to
newspaper advice columnists but never sends them. Here is a collection of
letters I have written but never sent to Washington
Post advice columnist Carolyn Hax:
Twice in my life I have quit jobs without having another job waiting. Three times, to be honest, but the first time involved a college job as a part-time clerk at a shitty Texas convenience store that I mostly quit to deny a jackass middle manager the ability to claim he fired me. But that’s a story for another day. As is the story about how I had to take a polygraph test as a condition to being hired for the part-time shitty Texas convenience store job and how I learned that you could lie on a polygraph test and not get caught.
This isn’t going to be one of those blog posts where I
gently mock me as the bumbling suburban father and husband transitioning from
Mountain Standard Time to life on the East Coast. Regular programming will
resume in the near future. Instead this is me writing a “think piece” about
what the fuck is going on! Because something
the fuck is going on in this election cycle that has in recent history been
suppressed or marginalized by The Establishment.
Last Wednesday afternoon, my wife, Carissa, texted me the
news that Merle Haggard had died. It’s not like you couldn’t see that one
coming. He was 79 and there is ample evidence that he lived out many of the sad
songs that he wrote and performed. As much as we may not like to admit it,
there really is a limit to how much whiskey and cigarettes a body can absorb
(unless you are Willie Nelson or Keith Richards, although perhaps the type of
cigarettes you smoke make a difference).
Let history record that on Friday, January 22, 2016,
flurries of snow began to fall on the Washington, D.C., metropolitan region as
the noon hour approached. The start of the storm caused little alarm and even
Autumn has arrived. And with it comes that seasonal
indicator that is as predictable as shortening daylight hours and piles of
orange and golden leaves left ignored in my yard and driveway. Yes, I’m talking
about fighting with my wife, Carissa, over where to set the thermostat.