Monday, October 11, 2010

Write something. Just...write something!

Life pretty much revolves around commuting right now. Since graduating, I've been moved to a job in DC R'lyeh. Instead of ripping my family out of a house, community and school system (this time one we actually LIKE) yet again, we made the decision that I would be the one to go and I would visit the family as much as possible.

Driving to or from work in DC R'lyeh is a laughable proposition, so I take the train. For those who have never taken the Metro, please share in the experience:



The 6 am trains aren't that bad. Not very crowded, and it's easy to tune everyone out with headphones, put on some classical, and read a good book.

Weekends are a different story. For all but two since I've been here (the end of July) I've headed back north to RI. This is where you find out how much the I-95 Corridor FUCKING BLOWS. (Flights are fairly inexpensive; would that I had the $800+ per month to fly back every weekend.) So I've spent much of my time thinking about how to get from the Beltway to RI as quickly as possible by car. The best way I've found (north to Scranton, PA then east on I-84 to RI) still takes 8-9 hours depending on traffic. Until this past Friday.

The view from my weekend...


Average speed was about 1.5 mph for about two hours. When in the middle of a traffic jam I often find myself wondering if it was caused by someone being an idiot and, if it was, if the bastard who caused it "paid" enough. I guess this poor, dumb bastard did. Interestingly, knowing what had caused it made the situation easier to bear. No, not because I was glad the dude got shot and killed. (But, dumbfuck, don't pull a gun on a state cop unless you really, really mean it. And if you have a firearm, it helps not to draw attention to yourself by stealing vehicles.)

Coming back today was similar, but different. I need to take some rural side roads, and passing through a local Fall Arts Festival delayed me for an hour. Hmmmm...Fall Arts Festival. On Columbus Day. I wonder if it used to be a Columbus Day Festival. But not anymore. Now we all have to feel guilty about the course of history. I find recent bitching about holidays to be annoying. All the wingnuts want you to be suitably penitent and somber on any holiday dealing with the military, and want you to thank a vet for every single holiday. And if you're not a Christian you should remain in bed and only breathe just enough of their air so you don't die on December 25th. And if you're a moonbat then any holiday - period - is at its very root a celebration of genocide.

So I had contemplated making a handy-dandy do-it-yourself holiday admonishment mad-lib-like thingy where you could choose from three columns and mix and match to make a silly sentence like

"Don't wash your car on Labor Day because you're just celebrating genocide by giving money to the evil car wash", or

"Don't fart on Thanksgiving because this is a Christian country and Jesus will sic the veterans on your ungrateful ass."

Instead, I'd invite you to make up your own.

But where was I? Oh, back to the driving. I don't always mind the long delays or the long drive. It gives me time to listen to the classic hard rock / metal station on Sirius and remember my misspent youth. Lots of repetition, but lots of good driving songs. Like this old favorite of mine. For some reason, the pedal always hits the floor.



"Don't floor the accelerator when you hear Billy Squier. You're just memorializing Hitler when you do!"

4 comments:

Beach Bum said...

Yeah, I took the Metro a couple of times with the best episode when a friend and very Southern gentlemen offered his seat to a lady having to stand. The woman looked ready to scream in fear and/or punch him. I was dating my wife at the time who lived up there for years and over the phone later that day told me the common customs of Metro riding.

My youngest cousin flew up to New York not too long ago to visit his college roommate and got caught up in some sort of airline strike forcing him to drive back down to Charleston. Real highway to hell experience for my cousin and he told me it would be a long time before another trip like that one.

As far as Columbus Day and other holidays, as long as there is football I ain't going to sweat the small stuff. The various fruits and nuts can fight all they want.

My admonishment would be to gung-ho chickehawks to hide in their closets on Veteran's Day or the ghosts on pissed off warriors will come cut off their balls for not serving.

MRMacrum said...

"All the wingnuts want you to be suitably penitent and somber on any holiday dealing with the military, and want you to thank a vet for every single holiday. And if you're not a Christian you should remain in bed and only breathe just enough of their air so you don't die on December 25th."

Until I read this, I was ready and able to post some snarky remark like "Well it could be worse, you could be living in Cleveland and commuting to Buffalo". If I had had some precious coffee in my mouth at the time, I would have blown it all over the monitor. Thankfully, I had just drained it.

Thanks for the laugh.

My mad lib might be - Please refrain from wearing solid colored speedos to that next Tea Party rally. If you must wear a speedo, please make sure it is the red or blue one with stars on the crotch and the stripes on the butt.

Randal Graves said...

I really want to address the gentleman from Maine's comment on the joy of a Cleveland to Buffalo commute, winter inferred, but I have to go and bewail the slaughter of cultures for resources whilst simultaneously worshiping the perfect heroism of the soldier protecting those stolen resources from Sweet Zombie Jesus and Gidrah.

Chef Cthulhu said...

Beach Bum - don't be so mean to the chickenhawks. They're doing their part by contracting out security of Afghan bases to Taliban and IRGC affiliates.

Mr Macrum - an acceptable alternate speedo pattern would be Christine O'Donnel on a broom.

Randall - Hey...if you been sitting on shitloads iron for centuries but haven't bothered to do more than tie a rock to a stick, something bad is bound to happen. Kinda' like when the sun has been shining for aeons and you haven't bothered to do more than burn coal...