… an effort to write what could be a monologue in a play . . .
Siddown and listen, willya? Look, it ain’t rocket science at all. We got these goofs running for president and you know, they got me steamed . . . I mean steamed like pure boilin’ water that just scalds me inside and out. Why can’t there be someone sometime who will just listen out loud instead of yack out loud alla time? I don’t get how they talk so much about how we gotta do this and gotta do that for the little guy but then they make it so some people who get so much more than their fair shake when there are people who could use any kind of shake at all, much less a fair one. And you know what else I’m sick of? I’m sick my car fallin’ apart from goin’ over bad roads and bridges. I’m tired of seeing pictures of the kids in school in ol’ flimsy desks that still got their grampa’s name still carved in ‘em and plaster chunks fallin’ off the wall – and then I turn around and see that there’s some big snot govermint dude pissin’ about how its soooo tough to only get a new car every two years and only have 15 weeks off a year and still get five times more money than good ol’ Dicky here behind the bar, pushin’ his drinks just to earn enough to make a house payment. Just don’t make no sense. And all that Middle East crapola – it just seems so useless to mess around with – but that doesn’t stop those weepy eyed talking heads on TV tellin’ me all about who is shooting who and how it costs so much, well, dammit, if it costs so much then why – hey I’m talkin’ to you – why do they do it? I mean, lookit ol’ Butch there at the pinball machine, who ain’t been the same in the head since he lost himself a leg with one o’ them roadside gizmos seven years ago over there and he gets told in the hospital he’s gotta wait and wait to get more help. I’m no more nuts than everyone else in this bar – we’re pretty much all good people here, and just want to see the govermint work and see all those poly-tishins pay attention once or twice when they’re in town. Let THEM get shot at and get a arm ripped off. . Let THEM not be able to make a house payment because the factory got shut down. Let THEM drive down the roads that are hardly better than dirt. Let THEM walk under the bridges and see the rust. Let THEM see our souls rust and corrode just like the bridges while we wait for ‘em to do something. Well, like I said, it ain’t rocket science. Hell, my beer makes more sense than those bozos. You just watch. I’m just gonna vote for my beer in the next election. It’s got a better head on it than any o’ those boobs that are runnin’, and I don’t care what party you’re talkin about. I just wish they’d get the job done or let’s just jerk every last one o’ them outa there!