The Democracy of Stupidity

I learned that my third Not Eudora(Again) column had appeared in the Reader Weekly when and old School Board member emailed me out of the blue. George told me he enjoyed it and mentioned that that he’d always gotten a kick out of them. He even missed my columns when I swore off them six or seven years ago. I considered that high praise for a no-nonsense guy like George. He even encouraged me to attend the next Free Thinkers meeting this Sunday to hear a talk about how thorium nuclear reactors can save the planet. I’d kind of like to but I’d miss singing in church.

There is no telling how long I’ll be permitted to keep submitting them since I am now a candidate for the School Board. I’ve already said I would keep away from topics concerning the race although, of course, my blog won’t. The tag at the end of the columns does however reference the blogs existence claiming that its author, moi, is a local crank. Hey. Its just truth in advertising.

My new campaign volunteer criticized this morning for a recent post of mine on the blog that he thought was a little tough on Christianity. I’m sure it was but Jesus himself was tough on his own religion. He set the example.

I told my new supporter who has already made 30 or 40 calls to people on my behalf that if I had to bite my tongue to get elected I had no desire to win a campaign for the School Board. Now that the latest column is in print I can safely link to it on the blog without hurting the Reader Weekly’s subscription base.

It’s here in full and begins thusly:

As I was mowing my lawn, which had grown shaggy during a vacation to the Black Hills, I heard the horn blasts that herald the Mexican anthem La Cucaracha ta da da daaaa daaaa – ta da da daaaa daaaa!

“How passe’,” I thought to myself as I prepared to see some retro Mexican’s low rider cruising by. Instead I found an ice cream truck pausing to sell a dreamsicle to a neighbor. “Cooool,” I thought to myself replacing one moment’s contempt for another person passe’ past with my nostalgic fondness for my own passe’.