Hanging the Jury, One Very Content Candlelight Cuddle Session, Political Strife and the Death of My Country
Weekend memories fade behind me as the work week slowly crawls forward and I am troubled, distracted and hopelessly stuck on a desert island adrift in the midst of a suburban sea.
I had jury duty yesterday; that is to say, I was sequestered to make myself available for the main superior court of Arizona, if they needed to call on me to serve on a panel where I am referred to as someone�s �peer.� I was armed to the teeth with a large amount of militant banter (�well, if he/she isn�t guilty how come he/she got arrested?), leftist extreme philosophies (�if they are guilty, I believe we should give them the maximum penalty available by law�) and a number of blatantly inappropriate jokes based on creed and or race (yeah right, like I�d put those down in writing) to work into just about any question that could have been asked of me by the lawyers on either side of the legal process. I was also prepared to wave my background and upbringing like an Iraqi flag, middle class WASP, from a good family, good home whom doesn�t even have a parking ticket and believes that people that do bad things are immoral and destine to rot in hell. Instead, I had to wakeup at the crack of 1030, snag coffee from my Starbucks goddess and place a phone call that left me excused from my excuses and not having to report at 11 in the AM for any sort of jury duty at all. What did I accomplish with the remainder of my free day? Washed my car for the first time in four months, viewed three episodes of Farscape (a Sci-fi channel marathon) and masturbated furiously.
My evening was spent in the arms of an angel. Grant it, heaven and hell both have angels, but at this point in time, I�m not playing favorites. Wrapped together on a Goodwill Store procured couch of leather, soft music, flickering candles and the general ambiance of the whole setting sent my body temperature through the ceiling, along with my companion�s. While I�m fairly certain such compromising situations can (and probably will) lead to bigger and significantly sensual laden things, it was nice to just to let the world fly off on it�s for an hour or two and find someone else willing to take the ride with me. I awoke this morning cold and alone, but with the taste of tequila and cigarettes once again upon my lips. Despite the initial notion of revolt this combination tends to conjure up, I can say with all honesty I am growing quite fond of this mismatched pairing.
Yet even after this day of doing jack and his good friend shit, my mind was still troubled. The 6th (or is it 5th now?) largest city in the USofA is now under lock and key by the Secret Service and just about every lawn enforcement agency in existence have swooped down upon my desert oasis in preparation for the last and (in my humble opinion) and most critical presidential debate scheduled to date. Because I live in the shadow of collegetown where the debate will be held, I haven�t seen this many black vans, helicopters and police escorts since my trip to D.C. on Dubyah�s birthday. Roads are closed, snipers are on rooftops and I for one just want the fellas to get the fuck out of my town as quickly as possible to return some semblance of normalcy and laid back lifestyle most of the populace here is used to. But before this happens, I have to drop friends off at the airport (no small feet with the security in place, I assure you) smack in the middle of the debate. After this, I am to weave back through security checkpoints in enough time to attend the �Turn Arizona Blue� rally that is scheduled to kick off mere blocks from my current homestead.
Admittedly, I�m not too keen on going for a multitude of reasons. I�m not overly impressed at what Kerry has to offer my country, nor am I inclined to sway undecided voters to the cause as I know the torment they are all currently fighting with. Even though it�s free and a contact on the �inside� is reported to have a backstage pass for me, I�m not a huge fan of the Foo Fighters or overly eager to meet them. Although having pictures of a presidential nominee signing my bare chest with a magic marker does have a certain bent appeal, I�m a bit frightened of the prospect. What if I come face to face with the man, shake his hand stare into his eyes and see something that I really don�t like; the eyes never lie, don�t you know. Alas, I will go for the experience, attend for the people watching opportunities and will be assured of at least a decent time as my �contact on the inside� is my crush and the thought of spending hours on end with her at a brain twisting, intellectually stimulating social event has my dick hard enough to shove through a cinderblock wall. All, my dear friends, in the name of democracy, political strife and the death of the amerikan dream; we are damned if we do and damned if we don�t. I am not sure of a lot of things in my life, but the one thing I do know is that if this country is going to die a painful death, I�d rather have someone that will do it slow and easy, instead of driving the whole thing into the ground at mach 3.5.
My decision has been made and I don�t even need another nationally televised remedial speech and debate example by either candidate to sway me one way or the other. Today I have requested time off on election day and the entire day on November three; regardless of the outcome, I am going to be a very unhappy camper at the prospect of four more years of mostly inept leadership for my country.
Anyone in my neck of the woods is welcome to join me, I guarantee a bad time will be had by all, but hey at least we can all watch this country take another dying breath together. If things are going to go out like that, I think it would be most comforting to at least have someone to hold hands with.
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