August 4th, 2022, marked the beginning of the end for the small-minded holier-than-thou 62 percent living in Jamestown Township/Hudsonville, Michigan.
The largely toothless, ignorant mass came together to strike down a millage tax proposal that would have supported a local library. Why? Because the library had a single LGBTQ-themed book on its shelves.
A fist-bumping, high-fiving throng of sleeveless flannel shirt-wearing revelers had assembled outside the Reformed Church of America to celebrate their victory over free speech. It was here that I found a likely candidate to interview.
Wearing cutoff denim shorts, the requisite flannel shirt, and a red baseball cap emblazoned with “Guns & Bullits Equals Freedom,” he introduced himself as Peter P. Johnson – but I could call him P.J. – and said he was a life-long resident of Hudsonville.
As we talked, he pumped his sign reading, “50% millage increase to GROOM our kids? Vote NO on Library!”
“People, they gonna be movin’ right here to little ole’ Hudsonville in droves. We gonna have us a real estate boom like you ain’t never seen. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout investin’ in some mo-bile homes. Bound to be folks a comin’ that appreciate that economical kinda livin’.
“Because?” I asked.
“Because we’re cleaning up this here town, that’s why; gettin’ rid all-a them fag lovers.”
I asked him to explain.
“People from fer ‘n wide been a searchin’ for a place to live where they ain’t gotta worry about they kids gettin’ haircuts from no fairy-godmother.” Johnson spit tobacco juice into a Coke can he was holding and winked, “If ya knows what I mean.”
I didn’t, but he continued after noticing my quizzical expression.
“Right here,” he shouted, tapping a tobacco-stained finger on his sign, “like the sign says, we ain’t gonna pay no more taxes just so’s them damn LBJ Cuties can GROOM our kids.”
I took a chance, “I think that proposed tax was to support the library, which apparently has LGBTQ books on its shelves.”
P.J. looked at me like I was from outer space.
“No, no, no, ya damn fool. Ain’t nobody give a rip ‘bout no books. Feller I work with, his sister’s husband’s uncle, is on the City Council. She says her husband said his uncle said he heard the liebarry buildin’s gots some vacant space in it. Story is them fruitcakes was gonna open up one of their hair saylons. They wanted our tax dollars to hep ‘em out.”
“I really don’t think that’s it,” I said, “but I heard the library will have to close without these tax funding dollars.”
“We don’t need no damn liebarry. Hell, I ain’t been in one since I was in the sixth grade, and look at me! You ask me we done kilt two birds with one stone. Gettin’ rid of them loop-de-loo tooty fruity lovers and that there money pit of a liebarry.”
A man in a clerical collar called to P.J. asking if he needed a beer.
“Hell yeah!” he hollered back. “Sorry, gotta go,” he apologized, “Man upstairs offers you a beer you take him up on that shit right now.”
I’ve always liked reading the Onion, and this is my attempt at an Onionesque story. My apologies to the 37% of Hudsonville voters still in their right minds. You can read the real story HERE.
Just finished packing my lunch.
Besides vegetables and dip and a bag of Bing cherries, I packed a hardboiled egg and a bag of shredded chicken.
Now I’m going to spend the rest of the morning trying to figure out which one to eat first.
I’m a big fan of the Jack Reacher books by Lee Child. And I’m guessing if you are as well then you’re also a fan of the new Netflix Reacher movie with mountainous Alan Ritchson playing Reacher as opposed to the diminutive Tommy Cruise of previous Reacher movies.
In the books, Reacher is fond of saying, “Sleep when you can, because you never know when you’re going to sleep again.” Apparently an old army rule.
At 64 I’ve adopted a similar mantra.
“When you see a bathroom use it. You’re gonna need one (again) in the next half hour and you might not be near one.
The drive from Rochester to Brainerd is peppered with billboards. And as with all billboards, you’d probably agree, some stand out more than others.
Like . . .
Colt Ford in Concert
Do you need any other information to know he’s a country singer?
But my question is, did he even consider Remington RAM? Or Savage Sierra? Why not Ruger Renault?
To be fair and not knowing if I’d ever heard any of his music, I listened to part of Hood, and kinda liked it. And while it seems contrived – okay, very contrived – Colt Ford is a great name for a country musician.
Me? I would have gone with Sig Silverado!!!
And then there’s . . .
I don’t want to sell my house, and I’m tired of Kris Lindahl offering to buy it.
If you’re not from “these parts,” you may not understand. This guy is a Realtor and has more than 600 of these billboards dotting the Minnesota landscape. Six hundred!!!
A recent article states he’s trying to trademark this arms-spread pose. Perhaps to assert, “I’m Kris Lindahl, and my ego is this big.”
That said, he sells a shit-ton more houses than I ever did. So there’s that.
So what about you? What are your favorite – or most annoying billboards?
Let me know in the comments.
Vacation is almost over. Back to the grind tomorrow.
We’ve only been gone a week, but it’s interesting how you can miss the day-to-day comforts of home. You’ve probably read articles about people who were away from home for months or years – and the things they missed.
“All I could think about for the last six months was a McDonalds Quarter Pounder!” (Really? Not Mama’s spaghetti? Or getting laid or getting drunk? The only thing you thought about was a quarter-pounder?)
Or . . .
“I just want to take a bath – in private – with hot water and soap.” (So . . . how were things in prison, and when did you get out?)
Me, since we left the house last week, I’ve been pining for my electric nose hair trimmer and my back scratcher.
All week long, I had a wild hair up my nose, and I could not find that sonuvabitch. Without my electric trimmer, I’m forced to use my trusty tiny Swiss Army pocket knife. But the little scissors are extremely pointed and let me tell ya, you do want to slip on a wet bathroom floor and shove that sucker up a nostril.
Then I’ve had this annoying spot on my back (TMI?) that itches like crazy – and it’s just out of reach. My brother made me this back-scratcher – two tines of a bamboo leaf rake – and it works great. But all week long, I was forced to use a plastic silverware knife, and I just couldn’t get the right angle.
So what do you miss when you’re away from home?
Let me know in the comments.
You didn’t ask, I know, but if you had, I’d say we all need to laugh more. We need more joy in our lives. We need an escape – now and then – from reality. A reality that lately – it seems – sucks more than usual. Yes, that’s negative, and I understand not every day of reality sucks – but I’m here for the ones that do. (Suck more than usual.)
When I’m feeling especially inspired, I write long(er) form stories – that you’ll find under STORIES.
When I struggle to find joy in my writing, I draw and paint. You can find my art under ART. (go figure)
On this page, I document my daily – or almost daily – observations of the world around us.
You won’t find political correctness here, and you may run across more than the occasional naughty word. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
I appreciate your stopping by for a look, and I genuinely appreciate your kind, supportive, uplifting comments.;-)
Have a great day!