The Dipper

"Don't give the dipper to the nigger, son," the old guy drawled with no hint of shame or irony in his voice. We were taking a break from loading the watermelons down by the spring in the only shade available. After I had gulped a mouthful from the long handled tin cup I was handing it to the little kid squatting next to me. I was probably ten or eleven years old.

I have a really hard time understanding mean. I suppose that I can see where prejudice comes from and I recognize jealousy and envy. Hurting a person just for the sake of hurt baffles me. 

When I reminded  her that breaking up had come up before and that she had always come back and reassured me that she hadn't meant it and that I was the love of her life she responded, "Yeah, I can't believe that you've been this dumb for this long."

After this amount of time I ask myself why I dwell on this moment. Then I have to wonder why I can't seem to forget the dipper in the watermelon patch after most of a long lifetime. Without darkness there is no light.

Vote The Inch

Trying not to sweat the small stuff and I have to remind myself that there's nothing else. You live awhile and you die. Oh, yeah sure, some stuff happens in between. I suppose love is about all there is when it comes right down to it.

I don't want to bore you and I know I've told you this before but I love Jamaica. She's my dog and she's a good girl. Well, she's not really all that good but she is very lovable. I've told folks before that I loved them and it hasn't worked out too well; for me or them. I tell Jamaica so often that she takes it for granted. She's pretty cocky. Until it thunders.

We need more love and we should all be thinking about voting in the U.S. to get it. Seems to me that war is the opposite of love at the most basic level. I heard Billy Bragg say that in England folks were anxious to vote if there was an inch of difference between two candidates. We don't have a peace candidate. We never do. Maybe we never will. In the meantime, vote for that inch of difference. Take care of the love, yourself. 

Heigh ho

Trying to drive the pain out of my heart. Working tonight. Best medicine I've found. I've been happy and I've been sad. Believe me, happy's better. 

My Drummer

I keep hearing that joy is back. I believe it is. We need a new version of "Happy Days Are Here Again."

Now, I'm a sap and I know it but I kept wiping tears from my eyes as I listened to Michelle Obama last night. Oh, I know that some D.C. hack wrote those lines for her but I believe that she truly loves that guy. I believe that if we stamp our feet and clap our hands that Tinkerbell will be alright, too. 

Of course I want good guys to win and I want light to whip darkness but I'm back to reaching beyond politics and the everyday grind. I'm tracking Moriarity here. Evil, be warned. I'm coming for you. Yeah, joy has returned and that means mine, too. Let's end war. Let's spread beauty and let's share love. People got ready! Here's the revolution.

The Voices

Hey! You voices. I thought I told you to get out of Ronny Elliott's head. I don't know about the rest of you but I've not only grown accustomed to the voices that speak to me, I've actually come to enjoy their company. They're a lot more interesting than most of what I find on television. They're funny, too. Except for when they're sad.

Now that I have revealed every dark truth and now that there is no mystique I may have to abandon my blog. I hope I've told you the truth. I've certainly supplied my version. If I have new true stories later I'll be back. Maybe I'll remember something that I've left out.

Purpose

Labor Day. I like the sound of it. Anything that brings us together, even temporarily, is okay with me. I suppose that if I'm Ronny Elliott for a living I don't really get the day off. I once wrote about my pal, Harry, that he "works for himself and calls the boss a jerk." Enjoy your day off.

Half Full

So I have a business proposition for my wealthiest friends, the ones that we have decided are one percent of our population. From the Revolution on, at least up to these last two, all of our wars have been financed with tax dollars. Now we have decided that perpetual war is healthy for our "economy." When we're not fighting commies to avoid a domino effect in southeast Asia, we're battling terrorists or drugs or invading small countries with oil under the earth because we don't like their dictator.

At the same time the folks who have accumulated most of the wealth have decided that they don't want to be burdened with taxes. Well, who can blame them?

Now if I want to get rid of war and they want to avoid taxes I think I see a deal to be made. Let's leave social programs intact. In fact, let's improve health benefits and education for all of our citizens. Let's patch up our infrastructure and let's clean up our planet. Since these fine young people that we have sent to our fine military academies won't have the jobs of their dreams open to them let's move them into leadership roles where they run our new programs to fix up the nation. Let's make General Eisenhower proud.

Haliburton's not gonna like this. Neither is GE. My first thought is, of course, so what. On the other hand I'm looking for win/win here so let's give them some more of their beloved tax breaks to invest in real research and development for alternative fuels and recycling technology and clean disposal of waste.

Let's build a real Mayberry.