Cracklin’ Rose, you’re a store-bought woman, but you make me sing like a guitar hummin’.
That kinda describes how I feel about ol’ Neal himself. He’s kinda cheap and cheesy, but really, no one else makes me grin so much when I hear them. He has the power to make me happy. He just makes me want to do a goofy little dance.
Of course, I only listen to him when I’m in a good mood to begin with. If I was angry, he may just incite murder, or at least a fist through a wall.
I heard a strange noise outside my window a few minutes ago. It was a rythmic, scraping kind of noise, like an old man dragging a shovel in weak spurts, pausing for a breath every second or so. And he was getting closer. I got up and looked out the window when it sounded like he was about to drop at my door. It turned out to be a kid on roller blades, trying valiantly to get down our rough, one-step-up-from-dirt road. I can’t even imagine where she was going; there can’t be more than 20 feet of sidewalk or smooth paved anything in town.
You are the sun, I am the moon, you are the words, I am the tune , play me.
Many, many people, either in my comments, or their own blogs have mentioned that the only drawback to living in a small, rural town is the noted lack of liberals. Or a lack of open-mindedness (since those two aren’t always connected, no matter how I feel). That hadn’t been made very apparent to me. I’ve already met two artistically inclined, smart women… although that doesn’t necessarily mean liberal either, does it? Just most of the time.
I was at church on Sunday, for the third week in a row, so folks were starting to get to know me. Everyone greeted me, most by name, and I even got a few hugs. One was from Corny, the ~90 year old semi-retired plumber who offered again to take look at my pipes. As much as I need that, I just couldn’t make him clambor down into the three feet high crawl space. That’s just cruel.
Anyway, somewhere in between the announcements and community prayers, so that I couldn’t quite tell which it was, the pastor urged us to get out and vote this year. He couldn’t recommend a particular candidate, of course, but there were numerous issues coming up, not religious issues, but moral issues. Issues that are not protected in the bill of rights by any means. Issues that we need to take a stand on. Issues like abortion. Huh? Was there something coming up that I didn’t know about, or was he indeed recommending a particular candidate? Anyway, with the whole congregation nodding along, he told us that if we didn’t want the leftists to get one of their own in as president, we’d better get out there and vote. Because Kerry is sooo far left. Anyway, he would be discussing a new issue every week, until the election. I just bet you next week is gay marriage.
I’m actually kind of looking forward to this. I really like the people here, and folks like me already; I’m a likeable gal. After a couple months, when I’m firmly entrenched, serving caffeine to everyone at the coffee hut, volunteering for the fire department, laying on hands and healing everyone’s cats, much loved by all, a regular Mother-fucking Theresa, I’ll drop the bomb that I’m one of those leftists. I can be quiet until then. Because I have an agenda. That’s right, a liberal, leftist agenda, to show everyone that we weirdos can be nice, polite, church-going folk. Hee hee. This will be fun. And I can’t wait until the owner of the house gets here. They’ll be so confused; they won’t be able to not love her, but she’s one of THEM. Oh yes, this will be fun.
Brother Love’s Travelin’ Salvation Show is reminding me that I am a liberal that loves Neal Diamond. But I draw the line at Barry Manilow.
Shoot, I wanted to end the post with Barry, but I should say a little something to clarify where I am. The places I am taking care of/improving/loving are multiple. It's one lot, but on the property there is a large place, the Blue Castle (just a tribute to LMM, doesn't actually look like a castle... but it has the heart!), and a smaller log cabin, the Little House (another tribute; can you guess to who?). There's also a fairly large shed that I am saving for last, and a little tiny houselike thingie that holds the well, and probably houses several spiders, and maybe a lizard, so I think we can call it a house. I think that's it, but I'm never sure with this property; I wouldn't be surprised if I found a hurricane cellar or a fallout shelter in one of the back corners I haven't visited yet.