I like fluff
The results are in. No other conclusion works. Cotton candy sells. Don’t offer a balanced plate of good veggies, healthy protein, just enough beneficial fat, and cool, hydrating water. Don’t even try offering a grilled steak, a loaded baker, a smidge of broccoli drizzled with cheese, and a glass of red.
What ya need is peanut butter stuffed pretzels. Chips & dip. Bowl of ice cream. Biggie Bacon Burger. Good stuff. Makes you eschew (had to do that) healthy choices. Everyone knows veggies and balanced portions are tasteless and unfulfilling.
Give’m pictures. Don’t even have to fit the theme. “What she said.” “Love ya!” “I heerd that!” Lawsy, leave all the brains in neutral. No-o-o, don’t ask for engagement.
Disguise your presence. Everyone races to “me too” sympathy for the underdog, so as to appear, appear, mind you, to understand, commiserate, and maybe have you believe they experience similar circumstances.
Guess I see it. There’s enough disappointment out there. Folks want to escape. But they don’t want to work too hard at it. Noted. Fun, fun, fun! Pap. Spoon-fed. I-V anyone?
Lacking genuine class
I was watching this lady on television. Looked decent enough. Her attitude turned me off. Condescending. Self-righteous. Smug. Would have you believe she’s part of the intellectual elite. Don’t think so.
She did try to make me think I should relocate to California. She said it was a lovely place. She hopes to make the rest of this country more California-like. Her cadre, she said, worked hard make California what it is today; says they can do the same for the rest of the country. So I gave it some thought.
Fires. Earthquakes. A high degree of government interference in your personal life. High cost of living. Well, shucks, if that’s the only bad good stuff, could be okay. I mean every locality has some difficulty.
Thought some more. Even the disreputable “news” sources report all but movie stars, politicians, and sports figures are leaving the state in droves. There could be a reason. Might be many. Buckle-up…
People quite literally pooping in the streets. Huh?
Taxes there are out of sight. Well, that’s everywhere. I mean, ain’t it?
Gonna outlaw carbon fuel automobiles there. Atomic cars? Wind power cars? Solar? I mean I hear tell the state has what they call “rolling blackouts.” Which for those of you who sleep most of the day, that means everyone takes turns doing without electricity. So dependably charging your Tesla or Prius will be iffy. Assuming, that is, three hundred or so miles describes the top-end of your travel requirements. Wanna maybe investigate a bicycle but be sure they are low-psi tires accounta air-taxes.
All well and good. Gasoline is over $4.00 per gallon in California. European countries may consider that reasonable. Maybe it is. But when it’s a buck-ninety where I am, it looks that something is awry. Pay for pure, sure. But double? Unh. Wait. Nope.
Diversity. Lots of folks there sans paperwork. “Undocumented” they are called. Um, I mean, the “news” agencies keep telling me about them, so that seems to make them documented. What’s the deal? I ain’t got no papers. I’m undocumented? Geeze, I should move to California to be with people of my own type.
Oh, I see. Offsetting the outflow of middle-class folks. Suggest they hurry accounta I hear states like Texas are putting up walls to keep Californians out.
Welfare a humongous thing out there. Some good by virtue of a contract with the working American people instituted in 1935. Like it or not. Save meddling by politicians and hawg-troughing, financed. Some not so good, promulgated without any means of paying for it all, with no reason save misplaced ‘save the world’ attitudes. “Here, I won’t give you my designer shirt for your nekkid back, but see that guy over there, digging a ditch? Go take his shirt off his back. Tell him I said it’s alright; the way it oughta be.”
Crime. Well, ya got crime everywhere. Real crime and crime in the government, which is the best kind because it’s legal. If not legal, at least it seems, Americans don’t mind it for some reason. Then again, I’m thinking, so much in California is regulated, if not outlawed, you could be arrested for brushing your teeth: prohibited chemicals in the paste, excess electricity use, abuse of water resources, a violation of noise ordinances, and maybe insufficient licensing and permitting.
Vote! Vote Democrat! And vote often! [Sorry. I lost my head.]
Il-lee-gal. Your Funk and Wallerstein broke? [Did it again, didn’t I? I apologize.]
Down to Sarah’s Coffee Shop
So I was talking to the boys down at Sarah’s coffee shop. Kind of put it to them tongue-in-cheek.
Luke asked me, “Why the heck would you want to move to California? I mean it’s almost fall here, and the gnats ain’t gonna be much trouble anymore until the Ogoloochie floods this spring. Come spring, you won’t pay much attention anyway for the mosquitoes.”
“Well, Luke,” I began, “seems to be such a great place, according to the lady I saw on the television last night.”
“Oh, I seen that show,” Bobby interrupted. “If that was supposed to be a comedy, Imma spend more time on the back porch tending the smoker. I didn’t get half the jokes the lady was laughing at.”
“Was what you call ‘satire,’ I think,” suggested Luther. You know, where you say outrageous things as if they were gospel to see how many unsuspecting fools you can get to believe it.”
“No,” offered Luke, “that was two folks arguing politics and both of them was dead serious. Not that they believe what they said, but they ‘spect you to believe it.”
“Seen that same show,” Timmy Loggenthorpe said. “Lady seemed sincere,” he protested.
Luke looked at Timmy with that ‘the boy just don’t understand look.’ “That’s there’s the real danger, son,” he cooed. “Get your coffee warmed up. Imma explain a thing or two for ya. First, what you seen was a classless twit. Lying by force of habit.”
Notice, Luke never once mentioned gender. Or race. Luke’s not much of a visionary, but he does show a bit of respect, warranted or not.
You missed it
I ranted. I posted it. Not even gonna tell you where it is. Nah. This ain’t it. This ain’t a rant. This is fluff. I hid the rant. So’s not to offend. And not to appear anti-fluff.