The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Big Walter should be a happy camper now that his preferred candidate, Donald J. Trump has won the 2024 election. But he’s not. Ever since the returns came in that fateful night, he’s been positively morose most mornings at the Diner. When Little Jimmy approached his table the morning after, decidedly hungover after drowning his disappointment in bathtub — or at least a wash basin — of Jack Daniels, to offer a not totally sincere congratulations to Walt, he expected a huge guffaw and outright derision over voting for a Loser. Instead he received a nod and a token tip of his coffee mug in sad salute.

Jimmy wandered over to sit with me and a very dejected Two Toke Tom, who by the way he gulped his coffee, hadn’t slept much watching the bleak returns half the night. “What gives with Walter?” Jimmy asked us. “You’d think his guy lost, the way he’s acting.”

“Beats me,” I mumbled. “Maybe just a sore winner.”

Two Toke poured half a pound of killer white into his coffee, stirred viciously until some of it dissolved, then slurped up half the cup in one swallow. And groaned audibly. Apparently he and Jimbo had both washed their disappointment last night. Me, I felt like I did the night Reagan won. Or actually it was the single malt scotch that won. I didn’t need to relearn that lesson.

TT held his sucrose coagulated mug up to catch Brenda’s notice for his his 4th refill, which she accommodated with the admonition, “that’s the last one, Tom. You’re at overdose Level 4 already.”

Jimmy asked her after ordering the Heart Attack Special what was up with Big Walt. Brenda set her order pad on the table, leaned in out of Walter’s hearing range and said, “He was hoping they’d need the militia to overturn the crooked election when Kamala won. He thinks he’s the Camano area chapter of the Proud Boys. Now that it’s all over without the shouting or the shooting he’s disappointed. “

Well, you just can’t please some people. Maybe next election they’ll get another shot at it.

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Just before Election Day a major blow hit our area, knocking out power, internet, phones and most remnants of what we like to call civilization.  Five days later, yesterday, the power came back on and we could get the dreaded election results we’d missed.  You know and I know and so does Q that this was no coincidence, this blackout, just another conspiracy to rig the polls while some of us could do no watching, not while we were struggling to stay warm, forage for unspoiled food, haul water and help the neighbors who didn’t have generators whining 24/7 for 120 straight hours.  Who could possibly know what tampering was at play down at the ballot boxes.  Or what last minute Dirty Tricks were being conducted in the electron darkness.

We fully expected the power might never return.  Possibly the entire country was cast into the Bronze Age, the coup Trump had planned for Jan. 6^th nearly two years ago might have taken place, the country might have declared martial law and the Proud Boys possibly confirmed to sit on the bench of the Supreme Court.  The Storm Qanon had predicted had manifested while we were occupied with surviving, little knowing the real occupation had arrived.  The Red Tsunami had swept away democracy as we once knew it.

But … as is usual, paranoia might have some basis in reality, just not most of it.  Our state, Washington state, ‘woke’ that it is, remained mostly blue.  Florida, well, there was your tsunami, with a hurricane close on its heels, headed right at Mar-a-Lago, another embarrassment for the President-in-Exile who refused to heed evacuation notices.  The Red Wave, the one predicted by nearly all the pollsters and pundits, washed weakly to shore.  As of right now, the House looks like it will go red, the Senate, probably a repeat of the Georgia vote, the state that will determine the majority.  From where I sit, power on, lights aplenty, water running, refrigerators working, internet back, phone working … I feel like we dodged some bullets.

If the women who voted based on abortion rights or the kids who voted to save the planet, I thank you.  If you were the dickwad who voted for Dr. Oz or thought De Sanctimonious was the answer to inflation or the Ukrainian war, hello, the country hasn’t gone totally batshit crazy.  Just yet.  Return to your idiot newsfeeds and hope to god your power doesn’t go out for five days.  Stuck with your own fantasies and conspiracy theories, you won’t make it.  Bolt the doors, load your AR-15’s, listen for the zombie apocalypse coming for you.  Exactly what you feared….

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