Explain This, Unexplained Monolith!

monolith

A little local color before the Thanksgiving holiday, during which I plan to blog not a jot or tittle.

Our neighbor Alan’s been busy clearing a path to our dead mesquite trees. Progress every day. Those trailers already have full loads of wood and brush, but that all came from smaller dead trees he had to cut up before he could get to the main show. He’ll get a winter’s worth of wood and then some out of our back lot … and since he heats his house with a wood-burning stove, he’ll use it all.

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Alan noticed the Biden/Harris sticker on our truck and informed us we lived in a Trump neighborhood. Not sure if he was ID’ing himself as one of us or one of them, but I didn’t press him to find out. Anyway, it’s not at all true: the family two houses down has a rainbow flag in their front yard, the guy two houses up is the local Democratic Party chair, and the family across the street might be even bigger pinkos than we are. šŸ˜‰

Speaking of demographics, we made our annual pumpkin pie run to Costco this morning. We worried about holiday crowds, but needn’t have. The store near us has gone back to admitting seniors only for the first hour of business, the way they operated for a few weeks during the first wave of the pandemic. It wasn’t crowded at all. We were even able to park near the entrance, a rare treat.

When we came back out, we saw this TrumpTruckā„¢ in our parking row. Our first thought was the driver must have forgotten Costco is where Democrats stock up, but when we got closer we realized he was sitting inside with the windows rolled down, berating shoppers walking to and from the store, warning of riots to come. He wasn’t a bit confused … he’d purposely come to the court of Costco as an ambassador of Walmart.

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I may be wrong, but I think the more threatening aspects of Trump cultism will fade away once he’s out of office and the media quits giving him unlimited attention and airtime. Tribalism isn’t going anywhere, sadly, but most of the rabid Trumpers I see … the vocal ones, anyway … are old, fat, and lazy. They talk the talk, but I doubt they’ve got the gumption to walk the walk.

Polly and our quarantine bubble friend Mary Anne are joining us for Thanksgiving dinner, and later in the evening we’ll have a Zoom session with Gregory, Beth, and Quentin in Las Vegas.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear friends!

© 2020, Paul Woodford. All rights reserved.

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