Summertime And The Livin Is Still Easy

I once had a neighbour  neighbor…

Editorial rant follows for no particular reason:

Dammit…my spell check is hopelessly Anglophile.  It’s going to Defcon 4 because I’m overriding it’s little irrelevant electronic dictates.  Also it doesn’t like Defcon 4 because it’s woefully uninformed about 1980’s B grade movies. (What’s this?  “Movies” isn’t a word?  No way in hell am I calling Wargames “cinema”.  I need more coffee ASAP.)  Wait!  ASAP is a word and movies isn’t?  WTF?  (Another non word.)

Ok that’s it.  I’m ‘Merican, a victim of public schooling, and a blogger.  It should be happy I’m literate at all.  Spell check is a metaphor for the government.  It’s incredibly handy but it has a tendency to forget that I’m driving the boat and it’s just a silly little utility to help things along.  I’m turning the damn thing off.

My neighbor (retired) used to grow corn every summer.  Man he grew corn.  It was like his life’s mission and he took it seriously.  He had all the equipment you can name and tilled a massive set of gardens.  The rows were arrow straight and the gardens were picturesque and bountiful.

Everything he grew was delicious.  He sold it at a roadside stand and gave away plenty too.  He always beamed with pride whenever he harvested another ear.  I liked him and ate all the corn I could get my hands on.  I think I liked the idea of his beautiful garden and pride as much as I liked corn on the cob.  The “you didn’t build that” meme reminded me of him.  Nobody would look at those gardens and fail to see the pride and skill involved.

I’m not much of a gardener so I focus on critters.  I’m too lazy to weed a garden.  Plus I’ve never seen a stalk of corn strut around the lawn and annoy the cats like a rooster.  (The things you’ll watch from a porch swing.  It’s better than cable.)  Our homestead doesn’t provide 100% of our diet but it’s pretty uncommon that we buy meat.  (Hunting has a lot to do with that too.)  It’s not as exceptional as my neighbor’s massive garden but we derive some pride from raising food too.

Beer Can Chicken BBQ. There are many like it but this one was mine.

In other news it remains a year divisible by four with a D in the big chair.  Thus the press is hopelessly upbeat even as one guy says stupid things (which has the side benefit of being perfect satire fodder), the other guy is vilified by making legal private sector profits (because it would be better if he drove companies into the ground?), and the Federal debt is $15,918,983,548,548.25.

I don’t know about you but I don’t give a shit who sewed Olympic uniforms ten years ago when it takes sixteen digits to type the debt.  In the long run, debt matters more than almost anything else.  Which is why both parties are ignoring it like a 600 pound gorilla in the room. (A gorilla that’s angry, rabid, armed, and painted orange. Nothing to see here.)

Which is to say that summer 2012 politics continue to be largely content free.  As I’d planned in advance I’m (almost) ignoring it all.  (I’m also ignoring blog fodder like tractors and homestead stuff.  Call it a mental vacation.)

Happy summer.