Yankee carpetbagger

By David Grima | May 23, 2019

Do we even need our signatures any more?

For some time now, on the few occasions where I am still asked to sign my name while making a purchase at various stores, I have been signing the little glass screens as “Mozart”.

The truth is, I am not Mozart, but it doesn’t seem to make a scrap of difference, anyway.

* * * * *

One evening a week for the past couple of weeks, I have seen a small gathering of protesters outside the county courthouse, demanding that we impeach Lord Prez Trumpleton, the uncontested leader of the Free Universe.

Meanwhile, Trumpleton is going from strength to strength. He has the Chinese government against the ropes over their habit of strong-arming U.S. companies into turning over their technology to those Oriental gentlemen; at the other End of the Earth, he has Iran shaking in its boots over the possibility that the U.S. will soon wipe them from the face of the planet because they…

Well, to tell the truth, I’m not exactly sure what they did, but I am sure it was something really very evil.

Sure, it costs money to take on the Chinese and the Iranians at the same time, but I am confident that all true patriots will gladly send extra money to the White House to make sure it all gets taken care of, and to make sure we retain our place as Top Nation.

Why, already our fine American farmers are voluntarily footing the bill for the Chinese trade war. How can we refuse, then, to pay $10 or even $20 a gallon at the gas pump to make jolly certain our armies triumph against Iran?

Furthermore, all those much-maligned Republican billionaires in Congress have agreed to allow their investment portfolios to plunge in value, so that the money needed for Lord Trumpleton’s campaign against justice, immigrants from several Mexican countries, Chinese telephone companies, and foreigners in general, keeps flowing.

I ask you, has there ever been a better time to be an American? With our former adversaries, the Russians, now firmly on our side and taking such an interest in our democratic elections, who can possibly resist us? What a team!

* * * * *

I am told that the immensely popular TV show called “Gang of Drones” reached its stunning finale Sunday evening, and that fans of this particular kind of entertainment are all in shock.

In a strange-but-true story directly related to the show’s finale, Britain’s Daily Mail newspaper has announced that fans over there can speak to a counselor for a mere £40  an hour (which is about $60), so they can process their feelings about no longer having anything to watch.

Never having personally seen the show, I recently inquired with the next generation of my international family to try to get some idea what it was actually all about.

I was told that it involved lots of people addicted to a maniacal degree of violence while wearing either rather a lot of armor or, in some circumstances, next to nothing at all. This is a nice balancing of extremes, and it all sounds about right.

* * * * *

Well, things seem to be going very well at the largest construction site in Rockland at the moment. For a change I don’t mean the roads in the South End, rather the vocational school further on down the road at the Owls Head town line.

Last I heard, there was to be a yard sale at the old school in June, and then the new school that is being built behind it is expected to open around Sept. 9.

* * * * *

Uncle Phil just got back from his winter sojourn south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and tells a peculiar story about an encounter in South Carolina, where he was bicycling innocently along the Palmetto Trail.

He stopped at a wayside joint for refreshment one fine day, and was asked by the woman behind the counter if he was carrying a gun to fend off the various highwaymen and senseless killers who apparently infest that neck of the woods.

Being a true Northerner, he confessed that he was armed only with a faulty bicycle pump, several pairs of dirty socks, and his razor-sharp wit.

The thought of this defenseless Yankee carpetbagger cycling unarmed along their lonesome local trails caused the lady to enter into some degree of distress, so she called in her husband, who turned out to be a pastor of some kind, and they all laid hands on Uncle Phil and blessed him, praying for his safe delivery from the Forces of Evil that lurk in their state.

Apparently it worked.

* * * * *

Speaking of the Owls Head town line, I am told that Primo’s restaurant has been in business just this side of the line for 20 years now. Before that, I believe it was a place called Jessica’s.

* * * * *

We have become quite fond, lately, of driving into the countryside for pie and coffee on Sunday afternoons. What with that, and the fact that whenever we go to Moody’s Diner the young waiters call us “dears,” it seems we are beginning to resemble a pair of respectable senior citizens.

Am I turning respectable? Heaven help us all.

If this goes on, I will have to start looking for more upscale accommodations than the cardboard box on top of the concrete towers at the foot of Mechanic Street, where I am forced to live.

* * * * *

If you are in any way still alive from the neck up, you probably owe it to yourself to take a visit to the large gallery inside the Center for Maine Contemporary Art on Winter Street, right here in the Lime City.

I have seen photos of the exhibit that has been constructed in there, a thing that fills the entire floor and a considerable quantity of wall as well. But photos ain’t no good. You need to go along and see it in person.

Quite remarkable.

Can’t wait to see if the Farnsworth can show us something that beats it for sheer imagination, not to mention the amazing way it has been put together.

Comments (1)
Posted by: Mary A McKeever | May 25, 2019 13:57

You are as usual an amazing writer. Kudos David!

Mary "Mickey" (Brown) McKeever +0)

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