Minor illness. Dysentery. Really not a problem other than not willing to be out of the comfort zone which was three steps away from the toilet. Just as a precaution. Fever and dizziness went away after 48 hours. Well, the fever went away. There’s some question to whether I’m ever not too dizzy.
I made a follow-up trip out to see the doctor on Monday morning. Rain. Or rather, when I left, it was 72 degrees. When I got there, it, maybe a few miles cross-town, it was 52 degrees. As I played with the car’s radio, I caught a traffic report. A sputter of rain, a mild cold front passed through while I was one my way, and, true to form, there were at least three horrific auto wrecks as a result of the weather. The sun came out. But the weekly predictions stands.
Then again, I think this is for my sister.
The old, gray horse may have a few tricks left up its sleeve. I’d dispute the numbers from that rock star, too. Less than 2% of my site’s traffic will pony up any money. The rest of freeloaders.
But dysentery and scatological humor is perfect for political commentary. I voted in my first primary, yesterday morning. Me, a few neighbors, the local polling station. At 7 AM, I was expecting a longer line, but all I saw were a few spirited observers ready to caucus, and a large number of females, voting. Begs a joke here, but I’ll skip it.
I was worried. For the longest time, since I voted in my first presidential election, I’ve been registered as a Republican. Then I vote Democrat. Been doing this for a long time, and if there had been an exit poll yesterday? I would’ve answered incorrectly, just to miss up the exit poll’s accuracy.
Three almost four years ago, I recall the last presidential race. My little Austin-hippie friends were busy protesting, demonstrating, placard-waving, bumper-sticker pushing. Part of the process. But when I pushed home a point, “Which precinct did you vote in?”
“I’m not, like, you know, man, registered to vote in this state.”
If you don’t vote, you can’t complain. Matter of fact, if you don’t vote, then you deserve to be ground under the heel of the jack-booted thugs.
Me? I like the idea that “All eyes are on Texas,” as if we’re some kind of political banner, blowing in the breeze.
In my mind, it was LBJ who used it first, and these days, I have an even greater respect for that gentleman, as a member of congress, he did a favor to family. I’ve already published my presidential prediction. Not an endorsement, just my prediction based on the stars.
Remember the Alamo, and?
Vote Early. Vote Often.