No Training Wheels

It’s been 2 months, still a neophyte. Driving addiction, cold turkey.

At first, stumbled through missed connections, figuring out routes and times. Why try and act like I know what I’m doing? Biking, though, has been the big pleasure, a surprise.

I learned to ride a bike in the long, dusty driveway at my grandparents. Hot corn field one side, Mom’s huge garden on the other. We almost never went in the garden. Mom spent hours there each day. It wasn’t the kitchen garden, that was out back. In the front garden was a bewildering array of trees, bushes, odd plants, light spots and dark corners.

There were no training wheels for us. I pestered my dad to let me try the blue, rusted white wheeled bike. I don’t remember him running behind me, but he must have. In my memory I rode upright the first time.

Have you done that, run behind the bike while a kid learns to balance Just hold firmly, then lightly, then watch them soar, crash, get up and go again. Watch and wonder.

Glad to bike again.

It was a good day

Well, I did have some hog for breakfast, and the dog is barking, but there is no smog and I made a giant jug of Bloody Marys.

The most awesome thing happened last night. As everyone knows I am constantly spilling ice. An average of 1.83 out of 12 cubes (14.72%, please don't check the math) ends up on the floor. In fact, this blog should probably be called ice spills everywhere but ice doesn't stain. For the 1st (last?) time in my life the spilled ice cube popped up in the air and in a perfect parabola sailed into my glass. I have conquered life, at least for a few hours.

Why are Bry's shoes on my porch? Did she walk home barefoot? Will I be doing vodka shots out of a straw later?

I definitely need to listen to more Peter Frampton.

That's all for now. Please enjoy your holiday weekend.

Like We Need a Reason

WSE

This is a Confession

Can't quite deal with the gravity.

The levity is enough.

The hardest thing about writing in the third person, is remembering to write in the the third person.

WSE does not, nor does he purport to, speak for the house. Casa de Redneck exist without foundation. It remains, despite the best efforts of those who would seek to repress us, a bastion of ideas and ideals - a Salon - where freedom exists without fear of reprisal, cell phones are not monitored by the NSA and liberty is not measured by the size of one's paycheck.

While hours spent in the confessional cannot make up for the the sins placed on the page, we do our best to disseminate information, at infrequent intervals, that you need to know.

The black helicopters will not stop us. The great orange satan cannot stifle our voice. We are the people, the voice of the great unwashed, intemperate masses.

The day may come, and it may come soon, when the FCC or our own immoderate ways force us, like Harry Potter, to seek refuge in far off fens, avoiding he-who-must-not-be-named, but until that fateful day arrives, until the the Brown Shirts beat down our door and render us to some undisclosed location, we shall remain ever vigilant in just crusade.

We would, however, advise you to clear your browser history.

WSE

OUT?

WSE is going "out?" What exactly does "out" mean? Does anyone have any ideas? My money is on him going to a strip club.

A Rant by Any Other Name

A very good friend^☂of WSE sent the following in response to an opinion piece submitted as a adjunct to an ongoing discussion.

...More of a reward and initiative vs rewarding inactivity and indifference. The latter collapses on itself eventually, just like it is now in much of Europe.

Which was probably a mistake as WSE is short of sleep and way hungover...

WSE does not know a single Liberal or Progressive breathing who does not admire and espouse the benefits of hard work and initiative.

Inactivity and indifference are relative terms, depending on what you are indifferent and inactive toward. WSE would posit that the Libertarian ideals espoused by the attached author demonstrate misplaced priorities of Hobbesian proportions. WSE would further state that if you (collectively) wish to witness indifference and inactivity, simply look in the mirror.

M'•er•i•can |Mm'airikin| (N) def.: Anyone of Straight, White, Male, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant (hereafter SWASP) descent (other oriented/racial/gender/ethnic/religious groups considered and accepted only after decades of repression and discrimination and proper supplication. SWASPs reserves the right to kick your ass to the curb, without notice or debate, at any time), who believes that catastrophic oil spills are mere "accidents", engages in (despite his/her/its "holier than thou" convictions) moral opportunism and further believes that justice, equity and liberty are mere commodities to be bought and sold on the open market free from the restraint of the ever repressive boot heel of the suffering masses and longs for, while striving toward, the halcyon days of SWASP hegemony.

We M'ericans are history's most self-indulgent culture (is there a cash prize that?!?). We M'ericans consume more of the world's resources than the Vogons. We are Cleveland Arning, devouring the planet country by country, exporting our trite, consumptive, paparazzi-addled culture to the world, while pissing on their leg and telling them it's raining.

Our indifference and inactivity, as the wealthiest nation on this planet, is nauseating. In the face of suffering, in the face epidemic, in the face of global catastrophe, a saintly few M'ericans may, reach for their wallet, but they will not reach out. We turn our heads and turn the page, justifying our indifference and inaction with pious platitudes.

WSE is moving to Australia. Beaches, babes and no beer too warm to drink.

WSE

^☂ Tip O' the Hat to C. D. for needed education, great conversation and bourbon.

^☂☂ O' the Hat to Magz for the photo.

^☂☂☂ Definitely been spending too much time at Whiskey Fire. A good dose of Cole is in order.

Hipster Backlash

Like we coulda got our ass into skinny jeans anyway. And, please, we'd just as soon throw what's left of our nads over a fixie (REAL fixies, not those lame ass free/fixed toys with actual brakes all those trust fund poseurs ride) as we would agree to have a drink with this guy. Even if, in the highly unlikely event, he's buying.

There's this whole backlash against hipster culture out there. It's Anti-Hipsterism.

It's getting to the point where just riding a fixie is grounds to demand I.D. Did we just land in Arizona? Do WSE and his fixie look illegal? What about PeaceDonna and her dog? Deano Martino produce that birth certificate.

Seriously, we are thinking of joining Glenn Beck in the attic. The only problem is we don't know who we can trust anymore to tell us when it's safe to come out.

Seems to us like we all got a lot more things to worry about than herds of trust fund tweeners (that's somewhere between a free skate through college, no loan debt and and a filial subsidized apartment in a major metropolis and realizing that Daddy's money runs out at twenty-six) with bad taste in clothing, even worse taste in music and completely unexceptional riding skills.

But, well, hell. Gotta fight the culture wars somewhere, and if the latest front is hipsterism, then hand us our pitchforks.

We'll have fun storming the castle.

WSE