Suck it up, Buttercup!

So I’m in the middle of a screwup day, nothing going right, a trip to town to pick up items at UPS they can’t find, another to retrieve a lost microphone at the location of our last gig they said they had but don’t now, still more to correct mistakes in postcards, posters and ads for an upcoming Small Craft Advisory show, how can it get much worse, I’m thinking. Until I park at the grocery parking lot facing directly into the guy with the TRUMP vanity license plate and no, it wasn’t Donald himself, just a Kool-aid acolyte wizened behind his steering wheel scowling at any and all. Meaning me.
On the rear of his rig are all manner of hostile bumper stickers but the one that catches my eye before moving away from this creepy caricature of Yosemite Sam said SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP, TRUMP IS PRESIDENT. Being in a small rage myself already, I wanted to tap on his window and ask the obvious question, ya really think your boy is President? Buttercup. My usual mode of operation is never, ever, engage these people. They are mostly whacked, completely unhinged idiots without so much as a horny toenail on terra firma. Their world is inhabited by lizard people, Jews with lasers in outer space starting forest fires, Democrat pedophiles in basements beneath pizza parlors doing monstrous things to children before eating them. A conversation on these topics is not going to find us a middle ground in the end.

Yesterday a buddy stopped by to ask about those Lahaina fires in Maui, said a client he mowed lawn for, one with a MAGA hat he astutely assumed was a Republican, claimed the fires were started by corporations who planned to buy the smoldering beach front town at rock bottom prices. To his client this sounded reasonable, no further evidence required, just bedrock cynicism for government and now corporations. Buttercups too, I’m betting. My buddy said he didn’t want to provoke this guy and lose his gig over politics, a job is, after all, a job. If it pays well anyway.

No, the batshit crazies are on their own. And if, in the end, they outnumber the rest of us just trying to navigate the already complex universe of our humdrum lives and vote their creep hero back into office, then we can all be afraid, very afraid, not just for democracy as we once imagined it, but sanity as it may newly be defined.

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