Tag Archives: Wilmington

A Thing Of Many Splendors

It’s not too late to talk about love, right?

I mean, sure, Valentine’s Day was a couple of weeks ago, but that doesn’t mean that love, itself, is out of date.

At least, that’s what I’m going with because I’ve got a good idea here and I’m going to roll with it, no matter what day it is. Because that’s how we roll here. So let’s roll. Rock and roll. Rock up the mountain and roll on down the hill?

Moving on.

Love, to return to my original point, is a thing. This thing that is love, you could say that it is splendiferous. That it has many splendiferousnessids. Or many splendors does this thing has.

Or something like that. I really think I’m close to an aphorism there. Just need to keep working on it. I’m close. Darn close.

Moving on. Again. Still.

Love sprang to my mind the other day when I was driving along the road from Charlotte to Wilmington as part of the never-ending treadmill of college and home.

There I was, just driving along and minding my own business when I almost ran off the road. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I mean, sure I grew up in the South, but I’ve always been the sort of liberal individual who doesn’t like guns and tries to avoid looking at them or thinking about them because they only get me in a bad mood.

Mostly I don’t ready the many, many billboards advertising gun shops or shooting galleries or gun shows. This one, though, I just couldn’t miss.

While this picture was taken in, I believe, Georgia, the sign I saw was Yes, it really does say that if you buy her a diamond, you will get a free hunting rifle, for those sorts of people for whom this would be attractive, I'm guessing this would be attractive to them.almost exactly the same, but in North Carolina.

Yes, it really does say that if you “Buy her a diamond,” you will “get a free hunting rifle.”

“Well, BillyBobRayBoy, I weren’t gonna propose to ArleneSue, but, hell, son, I needed me a new huntin’ rifle since I lost the old one running from them rabid ducks. . . You ‘member, right? Anyway, figured I might as well put a pull the trigger twice, nowutimean?”

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly how that conversation went. Or I might be stereotyping. But, either way, it’s a darn funny thing to see as you’re driving along the highway.

So. To love. And, no, I’m not going to end this by talking about how I “love” making fun of people who like things that are demonstrably stupid beyond measure different from what I like. Although, yes, it certainly looks like that.

Despite the somewhat cruel conversation I imagined up above, I’ll bet the purchase really was made with love in the heart. I’m certain the people who went and purchased a ring and a hunting rifle, did so for the ring.

Showing love for an amazing woman had to be paramount. The ability to blow the brains out of anything at 100 meters was just gravy.

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Explanation, Not An Excuse

by Richard

Sorry to not be here for now, dudes. I’m on the road picking up Zippy the College Boy.

Since he’s in school with a next-door-neighbor, I’m headed down to pick them up from Wilmington and the neighbor will be driving them back in January.

Combined with the new job, this is making for a difficulty in trying to find time to blog. Hence the day off for traveling. I’ll be back on Friday.

After 8 hours on the road and a day at work. Wheee!

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I, For One, Welcome Our New. . .

by Richard

So, yeah. That was the election, dudes.

Still can’t believe he won. I mean. . . Really. Right?

Sure it was a close race, well-fought in places, but still pretty nasty there at the end. One side was, of course, a much cleaner and running a better race overall. So I’m glad that side one. Yep. Sure am.

Yepper.

Uh huh.

Yeah.

So. Election?

Is it getting obvious that I’m writing this the night of the election and I have no idea who actually won the thing? I mean, sure, I could wait for the returns to come in, but I’m not allowed to read anything about politics and I can’t stand watching television news because all any of those things do is just make me mad.

And not in the good way, either. (For more on that, come back tomorrow for a great post about anger and optimism.)

Still, I did go out and vote, as did the Imperative. (More on that over the weekend.)

And, in addition, so did Zippy the College Boy. Down in Wilmington, NC, Zippy the College Boy is now living away from home so his voting precinct changed away from Charlotte.

Earlier this week, I got a call from the boy.

“Dad! Dad! Guess what?”

“What?” I asked.

“I did it!,” said Zippy the College Boy. “I finally did it. I finally got a chance to vote. . . ”

I was, to say the least, thrilled. Zippy the College Boy, being the still hormonally accelerated barely post-adolescent male that he is, tends to take his politics and his sports rather seriously and will vociferously defend his point of view against all comers. So he’s been looking forward to being an actual voting-age (ha ha ha ha) adult for a while now.

He went ahead and looked at a sample ballot, figured out who he wanted to vote for in his local races and the national races, and then marched into the voting booth. He went in a boy. He came out a boy. Who had voted.

If only there were more people in this country who had his drive and enthusiasm for voting. I’m glad I was able to pass that along, at least.

So. Here’s hoping your candidate won. Unless your candidate isn’t my candidate. In that case, I’m glad your guy lost. Because my guy won. Neener neener. Of course, if your guy won, then I hope you’ll be a gracious winner.

That seems fair, yeah?

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