The four words above are causing me to book a one-way ticket to space. (Have you been to 30,000 feet? It’s a lovely place.)
Don’t take me wrong, I love living in Alabama. Where else can you smile at complete strangers and watch them smile back? Where else can you drink cold sugar water with a little tea in it? Where else can you say things like, y’all, fixin’ to, and bless your heart’? And where else can you get away with being too big for your britches and call a Pepsi – a Coke?
Lately with the corruption, sex scandals, and drama in local and national politics, I have no choice but to desert the planet I love.
If I understand it correctly, the top three leaders in Alabama are embroiled in controversy. The House Speaker is facing 20 years in prison for ethics charges. The Chief Justice was suspended for defying a Supreme Court ruling on same-sex marriage. And the governor is mangled in a highly publicized sex scandal involving a married aid. (His campaign pitch was to return morality to the office. Ahhhmmm, here is quote from a story on www.al.com, about his phone conversations with the aid: “You know what?” he goes on. “When I stand behind you, and I put my arms around you, and I put my hands on your breasts, and I put my hands (unintelligible) and just pull you real close. I love that, too. ” (From our moral governor Robert Bentley.)
Mind blowing? Wait, there is more.
Donald Trump is the presumed nominee for the Republican Party – the poor party that is trying to figure out how to disassociate itself from this maniac. Now that he might actually be the president, several stars like Whoopi Goldberg, Samuel Jackson, and George Lopez have said they would move to Canada.
I don’t think that is far enough. Canada is within reach. Trump is building a wall on the Mexican border, no telling what he’ll do to Canada. He may invade the country with three soldiers for an army. Then what?
No no no. I have to move far . . . really far.
I used to metaphorically go to the comfortable altitude of 30,000 feet, any time I wanted to escape the strife and discord of this planet. But I actually read recently about private space flights.
Tomorrow, I’m calling my travel agent and booking a one-way ticket to my cloud, where I go every so often. It’s a lovely place, puffy and white, soft and comfy. I’ll take some food. It might be a bit cold, but I’ll bundle up. (I have one of those 40 below sleeping bags.)
You see, up there, I don’t have to look at Trump, or watch a program about what he’s doing, eating, saying, wearing, and putting on his head; or who he’s insulting, demeaning, or cursing.
Up there, everyone is nice. (I’m the only person up there – so far.)
Up there, it’s very quite. I’m taking a solar-powered I-Phone for music. (It may get interrupted by Trump, Bama Drama, or governor sexual updates. I’ll turn it off when it does.)
Up there, I get to live in true peace. Something this planet, and this state, has had trouble with lately.
I used to appreciate the peace we had in this country, especially when you compare it with my homeland, the Middle East. But if Trump becomes president, that troubled region of the world will be remembered as the peaceful place, until he decides to “bomb the *&^%$ out of’em” (Actual quote.)
Yes sir, I am outtttaaaaa here.