A Healthy Dose of Irony, Harmony In the Dissonance, and Dennis Rodman

nixon-agnew

Hell, Dick Nixon was a freaking paragon of virtue compared to the current squatter in the Oval Office!

I should have gotten a pic of it, but to my delight, I saw one of these old stickers firmly planted on a Toyota Venza in the Costco parking lot today.   I immediately saw the irony and found it hilarious- the way I took it is that Dick Nixon and company would be a damned sight better than the train wreck of a presidential administration that’s currently defiling the White House.

I know we’re in real trouble when I start seeing these on cars:

carter-mondale

I bet Jimmy Carter has already sent Obama a heartfelt thank-you card.   If he hasn’t, he should.  I have a suggestion:

jimmy carter thank you card

History will have to be kinder to Jimmy Carter after Obama – as well as Clinton, Nixon, LBJ, Harding, and even Woodrow Wilson- after Obama gets done defiling the office.

I love those sappy old Victorian cards.

to my queen

Just what I always wanted- disembodied hearts- in the mail!

I know I don’t see things the way the rest of the world does most of the time.  In the past my alternate perception caused me quite a bit of cognitive dissonance, though as I grow older and ostensibly, wiser, I’m discovering three disturbing truths:  I’m OK, the rest of the world is screwed up, and I can’t change that.

It really doesn’t help to know when you’re right if everyone else is hell bent on being wrong.  I might try to explain to the lemmings why following everyone else over the cliff is a bad idea, but they’ll dive right over it anyway.

That’s not to say that I’m always right or that I’m infallible.  I’m certainly fallible, and I make a fair share of mistakes.  The bad part of that is I usually screw up when I go against my better judgment and follow the crowd anyway.

Ultimately history is written not by who was right, but by the winners.  Popular opinion may win out today, but in the long run?  Hindsight is 20/20.

I find it interesting that one of the big “kid arguments” is, “But Mom, everyone else is doing it!”  Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t make it right or good.  Sometimes what the rest of the crowd is doing is funny, though.

RODMAN

When he was 7 or 8 or so, Steve-o begged me and begged me for a Dennis Rodman doll action figure (if it’s for a boy you can never call it a doll, it’s always an action figure, even though a girl would refer to it as a doll) and I got it for him, interchangeable heads and all, against my better judgment.  I think that was the sickest toy I was ever conned into buying, even including having his ear pierced and getting him the entire series of DOOM games.  Steve-o didn’t stay interested in it for long, (mostly because his friends mocked him for playing with a doll.) I think eventually poor Dennis and both of his heads fell victim to either Clara or Lilo’s early adult/final puppy stage compulsion to chew up things.

It was probably Lilo.  She still destroys her toys, and she’s 10 years old.  Clara isn’t nearly as enamored of destroying stuff- unless it’s a bone with peanut butter in it.

Why Dennis Rodman reminds me of Obama, I’ll never know, but I sort of like the concept of popping off and changing out his action figure’s head, for what it’s worth.  Maybe somewhere there’s a sane head that can replace Obama’s goofy one?  Just pop off the goofy one and pop on the rational one?

Obama-pink rodman head resign

A Friendly Little Dystopia, Somewhere in a Solitary Bower, and Dead Presidents

I’m more comfortable in my own little world.  Aren’t we all, I guess, unless you’re one of those people who thrives on being surrounded by the company of others.  I feel positively smothered in the midst of large gatherings. I can only take so much, no matter who it is or what kind of conversation is going on.   Most of my family are incorrigible extroverts (I understand the mentality, but acting as though I’m an extrovert positively wears me out) so they wonder why I don’t always answer the phone immediately or text back the minute I get a text.  Sometimes I simply have to turn all that stuff off or just ignore it if I have any hope of remaining sane functional.

It’s all good here in my own little dystopia.  I have old Journey songs on the MP3 player, iced tea (with lemon only, NO sweetener of any type) and a cougar pool, capacity: 1 old cougar, namely me.  The dogs don’t give a rat’s ass if I wish to engage them in conversation or not as long as they get their meals of processed, crunchy mutton and whatever else is in their dog food, and they get to go out from time to time to perform their bodily functions and run around in the grass.  Jerry will probably be going to the campground this weekend, so I get at least one quiet solitary overnight.  I may utilize some of said solitary time to enjoy some of my live Journey DVDs (cranked up, because I know Jerry is not a Journey fan) and/or finish reading a couple of books.  The one I just started – FDR’s Deadly Secret is proving most fascinating so far. The theory in this book is that FDR died from melanoma that spread to his brain, although he had a laundry list of medical conditions going on that could have killed him too.

I just finished another book – Florence Harding: The First Lady, the Jazz Age, and the Death of America’s Most Scandalous President which picked over quite a bit of formerly obscure Marion County history as well as some rather seedy dirty laundry involving Warren G. Harding.  Yes, Harding was a tomcat.  Yes, Harding had friends in low places, but as far as scandal goes, from today’s perspective, I would have to say Clinton far exceeded Harding in the area of tomcatting, and both Clinton and Obama have far exceeded Harding in having friends in low places, and in flat out scandalous and illegal behavior.  Since this book was written in 1998, before many of the Clinton scandals came to light, and Obama was probably still a “community organizer” somewhere in Kenya, I can forgive the author that.  This book was well-researched and documented, and (though long for most people) to me, a fascinating read.

I feel for Florence Harding.  I know all too well how difficult it is to be an intelligent woman stuck with carrying a man with a lot of issues.

I don’t personally think Harding was the worst president ever.  Obama takes the prize on that dubious distinction as the worst president ever hands down as far as I’m concerned, even when compared with Dick Nixon, (in his instance I will venture to speak ill of a fellow Republican,) Jimmy Carter and even Bill Clinton.  Many past presidents (JFK, FDR and LBJ to name a few- in the 20th century) were tomcats.  Almost every past president, including my personal favorite, Ronald Reagan, was involved in something that someone might construe to be scandalous.  It’s a necessity of the office.  Perhaps the most squeaky-clean of the 20th century presidents was Harry Truman- but his sort of Democrat is extinct today, believe that.

Even Reagan had his moments, but IMHO he would do better from the grave than the current squatter occupying the Oval Office.

Come on, answer my poll, and comment, even if you do think I’m a right wing nut job.  I’m not politically correct, and I’m not very easily offended.

History is an endlessly fascinating subject for me, especially 20th century history.  I don’t know where the fascination came from but for the past several years most of my reading has been historical non-fiction.  Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, and I tend to get more engrossed in a story if I know it’s at least somewhat derived from historical fact.

It’s not entirely that I dislike people. Dislike isn’t really the right word. Dealing with people in most circumstances wears me out and sucks up what little energy I have to begin with. I do have my misanthropic tendencies- and I think people get on my nerves more than I should allow- but there are people I do adore.  The main problem I have is I can only take most people in very small doses and I can only take so much of even those who are dearest to me.  I need a lot of time alone, and when for whatever reason I don’t get it, I get very crispy around the edges.

Perhaps it’s the old school Catholic upbringing, but I feel guilty when I actually do put myself first.

In the event an airplane loses cabin pressure in flight, the flight attendant always instructs the adults to put their own oxygen mask on before masking their rugrat.  It makes sense- you have to cover yourself before you can have the resources to cover anyone else- but sometimes I get so preoccupied with other people’s wants and needs that I forget to do the things that re-energize me.

One of those things is simply turning off all the electronics and locking the doors.