Friday, July 3, 2020

A Stroll To The Shop



The day dawned, with an already fierce sun rising above the treeline, a portent of heat to come. Undaunted, resolute, I loaded the Blue into the rig and drove to the "shop" to get the truck's indicator lever fixed.




Blue liked the ride, an adventure for him these days, and then we walked back to the Compound through the sylvan streets of old Lspboro. Great exercise for the furred Eschaton and good for me too, furthest I've walked since getting kicked off an Arab a year ago.




Safely back at the security of the Compound, I caught up with email, read the news, pondered the iniquity of Marxism, called up the flock, said the Office on the porch, and generally made myself useful until the "shop" called back, "All ready to go, buddy, $360." 

Pretty much exactly what I'd figured. So, off I strolled through the leafy boulevards of this small farming community to the jolly old "shop."




The sun was already rising high and its heat beginning to bounce and shimmer off the roads, paved and unpaved. It's a fierce climate, no doubt about it, which says something about the country people who live in it. 

A tough crew, for sure, but mostly friendly with it. Maybe that's because of a "we're all in this together against the climate" frontier spirit, sort of thing. 




Perhaps. I walked past the site of our old cotton gin, which closed in the 1950s. Good work, proto-globalist asset-strippers. It's becoming a storage facility for broken AC units and U-haul trucks. 




Around the corner from what used to be industry is a kind of open air market, or Suq. No one steals from it, for some reason, and there it sits, rusting metal under a hot, dry sun.




You can buy round bales too, though I don't, shamefacedly, know the cost. Hey, lotta money in grass and I'm glad it's not my job to shift it on and off the trailer.




A few shacks and an RV at the "shop" later, the mission was accomplished. One bright, shiny and working indicator lever achieved. It felt good to have it working again, though I resented having to unlock the safe and pry out cold, hard cash to pay for the plastic miscreant. Made in China? Better not be, and that's for sure.




Next stop? Walmart, where I have a virtual chapel and the wherewithal to buy steak in honor of the 4th, Independence Day. But what's that line?

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Gentlemen and women, you have a Republic if you can keep it.

Your Patriotic Pal,

LSP


8 comments:

drjim said...

Happy Independence Day, Parson!

Dr. Swankenstein said...

The 4th of July is a celebration of systemic systems of institutional HuWhite Supremes! This country was founded and built by black and brown bodies of color, and their gender non binary queer LGBTQUIXOTE brothers, sisters, zhers and zhims! Take your white Jesus and your redneck fishing posts and shove them up your ______!

LL said...

Happy Birthday!

They should have given you a birthday discount for the shift lever. Or maybe a discount because you are a white male, oozing and dripping with privilege. You need to remind them about the privilege thing. People forget.

I went to a sandwich shop in Flagstaff today and on the way to pick it up, in front of about half a dozen hippies, I told the clerk that I needed my rebate for being privileged and white. The hippies didn't say a word, but they were focused on the holstered handgun. The clerk had a good sense of humor and said that he spit in everyone's food but mine, loud enough for the hippies to hear it.

Anonymous said...

Keeping the Republic is getting tricky these days!

LSP said...

And to you, drjim!

LSP said...

Yes, Dr. Swankenstein. BEND THE KNEE to our MARXIST OVERLORDS!

LSP said...

Thanks, LL, and thanks for the call too. A welcome relief from "the shop."

I'm about to enjoy my privilege with some juicy steak, and that's just the way it is. Sorry, hippies.

LSP said...

Ain't it just, Anon!