Neanderpundit

I know you own the road because you have so much money you can afford to drive a new caddie. You don’t have to obey the laws because the laws were written for someone other than you.

So pulling out right in front of me forcing me to swerve dramatically into the outside lane is perfectly within your right, I understand, and in no way do I ever have any right to challenge that.

The laws of physics, and the cement truck that was following me, well, that is a whole different story. I’m sure that will buff out.

that Jackass was not around when I was 12, I would have treated it as an instruction manual.

Dennis was the first kid to get his drivers license when I was in high school. His mom was a widow, and she worked as a nurse full time so it made sense for her to get him mobile.

Dennis’ first car was a Toyota shitbox, whose only option was an automatic transmission.

But it had this neat hook. We had no idea what it was for (Not realizing the cars had to be secured on the ship somehow) but we immediately thought o0f securing a rope to it. Once we got that far, what were we going to do with the rope? There was no ice so skitching was out, and then I thought of the grain shovel in the lobby of the school- the one that always got used as a snow shovel in winter and lived in that closet year round.

Anyway,the shovel and I went out into the parking lotdetermined to have the very best time of our lives, when the tiny voice in my head said “You know if something goes wrong, your head will split like a pumpkin”. SO I grabbed the only thing to hand, which was a football helmet.

Anyway. I planted my ass on that shovel and grabbed the rope. I ALMOST tied the rope to the handle, but the fates were with me that day and I just held it in my hand.
Dennis took off at a slow speed at first, and the shovel pitched and yawed a bit until we got on clean asphalt, then he nailed it. (Well, as much as you can nail it in a 1972 vintage Toyota shitbox) We got up to probably 60 and I was having a fucking hoot!! This is GREAT! Say, that feels a bit warm, HEY!!!! MY ASS IS BURNING!!! OH< SHIT< IT"S WORN THROUGH THE SHOVEL!!! So I let go of the rope, and deprived of the single vector of thrust begin to roll, and at about 60, rolling was not as much fun as they make it look on Jackass. The shovel, too, was rolling and flying around, bouncing off the blade and flying up into the air and coming down on me as I gradually flailed to a stop. A hole about 2" in diameter had worn completely through the shovel and about that size in my pants as well; I would not be surprised to discover there was still some gravel in my ass, forty years later. My clothes were pretty much in tatters and I felt like I had been tuned up by a Gary cop. I got my ass whipped for destroying my clothes Still. For thirty seconds or so, it was the most fun I had ever had in my life.

to be a student to some really great instructors. I have learned at the elbows of great masters in several trades, and I have been led by leaders who were giants in the industry- true entrepreneurs who took humble and small businesses to the pinnacle of the industry.

Now, I’m watching the industry I have been a part of for the better part of thirty years implode, to collapse on itself. The very best players in the industry are riding the wave while they can, but they all know that the wave is not a tide but a coriolis effect.

The nation is about to do the same. We are penalizing anyone who does anything, and rewarding the slack; the slack don’t know it, but as soon as they have handed ultimate control to the ruling class, they will be ignored as well, put to work until they are no longer useful. The same has already happened in industry.

Since I work, I will always have a place, so long as I mind my P’s and Q’s and don’t stir up shit. You probably will too. When the totalitarianism is complete we will have to try to work from within to undermine it. It will be easy, they’re morons. I don’t hold much hope for that, though. If we can’t be bothered to do shit about the decline while it’s still going on, ain’t nobody gonna do anything once it’s done.

So remember the Glory Days, remember Freedom, and tell your children and grandchildren. Make sure you do it where you can’t be overheard, though, or you will be re-educated.