What Ever Happened To […] #1033

[Welcome back, to me, from parts unknown. Literally. In fact, I’ve just returned from parts unknown even, and especially, to myself. You might never have known them either and, for now (on the advice of counsel), we should keep them that way. Oh, and the other (dang lousy SOB’n) thing that’s been lancing the “free” right out of my freelancing: Income Tax! And THAT you do know about, and even the lawyers won’t care if I mention by name, or even curse, the IRS. That said, we’ll continue with today’s unholy gospel :]

Deerly Bee Loved, amen. Hallelujah. For today’s rant we shall take our text from the mouth of the park superintendent:

“The hardest part of my job is keeping people out of the park.”

Yea, verily. This text cometh from a pristine source of only the highest character: the guy in charge of the planned event who heard it directly from the mouth of the guy in charge of the park.

And now I ask you:

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO [park people welcoming people to the park] ?

What? Are we talking about recreational space on Mars?

Authoritarian park protectors are telling us to stay away… because we can’t breathe? There’s no air? No atmosphere? No lush greenery within which to romp and play and enjoy the constitutionally set-aside-by-the-people-of-the-people-FOR-THE-PEOPLE great American public park… because… what, we’re suddenly on a different planet?

Maybe it’s Venus we’re talking about, not America. Or Uranus. I can certainly tell you this much about the weather there: Was it “colder than a well-digger’s a**hole”? No, but if you were suddenly encased in ice, it would be colder than Uranus.

A park. An American God-given (or at least set aside by Teddy Roosevelt) park. Then later, his descendant Franklin Delano had something to do with it, too. Shucks, all these high ‘n’ mighty muckety-mucks have ALL been profoundly engaging in our personal recreation and enjoyment… and here comes some lesser desk jockey pretend-god-wannabe trying to wield the clout he doesn’t have, to prevail upon the assembled congress he doesn’t know, in order to get THEM to tell US there’s something WE can’t use: HIS park!

My brethren and cistern, let us pray. Let us join hands discretely and bow our heads deeply and hold on tightly and fricking REFUSE forevermore to leave this glorious public preserve. Let us encircle our paradise, which the gags on April Fools’ all founded. We shall make a human chain around the perimeter of–where even HE doesn’t know–and causeth, yea, my faithful, Search & Rescue to come look for us.

We shall never surrender! All Power To The People!!! Throw up your correct fists! (OK, just the right one.) And repeat after me, yo, those ancient sacred hippie anthems of our primordial past: “Off The Pigs!” (or at least the wild boars) and “Up With People!” “Make Love, Not War!” And of course, “if you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear a flower in your hair”–but not, of course, if you’ve picked it in the park.

Can you even TRY to imagine, even in your wildest imaginings, a boss in charge of a place for the people who hates all the people? This would be like, what, the CEO of General Motors being a Neanderthal, a Puritan perhaps, maybe an Amish? The head guy making cars, hates cars! How about the chairmen of multinational software empires still hawking typewriters? It’s like the pope being Jewish, or a rabbi demanding that every Friday his congregation eat no meat.

The whole thing is insane.

Instead of welcoming, extending hands of friendship, pointing out lovely scenery and greenery and better paths to the bathroom, THIS guy in charge, THIS park superintendent, THIS freakazoid alien from another planet entirely (Uranus, or Hizzanus probably) is absolutely proclaiming that HIS park is ONLY for HIM!!!!

Apparently. What else are we to believe, my peeps? That his particular public American park is only for the daisies? The squirrels? The chiggers? Boars? Hogs? And Pigs?

Well, my dear friends, I’m here to sing Glory Hallelujah. God has triumphed. Moses has freed us. Pharaoh has finally gotten his comeuppance. For not only have The People flocked to the park, they have done so in record numbers. They have filled the park, to overflowing even! They have obeyed the bible and increased and multiplied. And they have gotten all Sinai to protect them. Congress and everybody else has realized what a GOLD MINE this all is to the surrounding impoverished community. The biggest economic windfall to befall the park in history is the very thing that this aforementioned frumpy dump desk jockey wants to do away with!!!

Loud have mercy!

All Power To The (greedy 😉 Congress! Let the windfall fall! Let the whole blessed annual gathering continue! And continue spending money!! And this very next coming fall, an even BIGGER public gathering has just been politically cleared to come into the park… and romp… and play… and spend–despite that dumpy crumb frumpy boss of the place.

For verily verily I say unto you, THAT tyrannical titanical goofy dufus has just been outranked!!!

( O_O )

Yours troubly,

The Troubadour
“your 800-year-old lute-plucking choir-sermonizing son-of-a-preacher-man that just loves to cook fowl over fire and brimstone… in a park!”

Yankee Folly of the Day:
Sure, y’all might have no idea what I’m talking about, but it’s only to protect the innocent and… to keep what’s in my pockets out of some lawyer’s pockets. Trust me, this lesson was learned from bitter experience.

A Joke:
(Hey, it’s Bad Joke Friday, eh?) The little boy asks the old man how he got to be so wise. He thinks for a moment, then says, “Oh, I’d say it comes mostly from good judgement.” Then the boy asks, “How do you get good judgement?” And the old man answers, “That comes from experience.” “So how do you get experience?” the boy inquires further. “Oh, that,” says the old man, “that comes from bad judgement.”