Will Edwinson

Author & Storyteller

There’s Too Much Dung In The Old Chicken Coop—A Guest Post From Rube

Edited Photo 06Greetings, friends.  I’m sure my writer colleagues can empathize that there are times when the aquifer in the well of  ideas temporarily runs dry.  Such was the case for me this week, but Rube came to the rescue.  He’s been watching Congress lately and he’s got some thoughts about how we can help those politicians in Washington.  He asked me if he could do another guest spot.  Since I didn’t have anything ready myself, I said “sure, have a go at it.”  So here’s Rube again.

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Howdy, folks.  Sorry to be botherin’ you agin so soon, but them politicians in Washington  are gittin’ under my skin  somethin’ fierce lately, and it don’t make no difference whether they’re Democrats or Republicans.  They’re all cut from the same cloth, if you ask me.   A bunch of us fellers (and a couple of ladies, too,) have been discussin’  at the morning coffee klatch,the goins’ on in Congress the past few years, and we’re thinkin’ the Halls of Congress right now reminds us of a chicken coop, and the dung in the old Congressional chicken coop is gittin purty deep.

Old Jake Doonuttin don’t think so, though,  but I reckon as how his opinion don’t count fer much since he’s been gamin’ the system fer nigh on to sixty years now.  And he’s been livin’ purty darn good at it, too.  He has one of them smart phones, an i-pod, an i-pad and whatever other form of i-things there is. He drives a purty nice vehicle, too, and the other day when I saw him shoppin’ in the corner grocery store, I noticed he was eatin’ purty good, too, off of them food stamps  he’s been collectin’ all these years.  And I can tell you he  ain’t eatin all Rawmin and Noodles, neither. And like I said the last time I wrote in this blog, I’ve knowed Jake for nigh on to sixty years, and I ain’t knowed him to work at a full time regular job fer very long .

But I’m digressin’.  I better git back to my original point.  I reckon as how when the dung gits too deep, and the chicken coop gets too dirty, the chickens, they start gittin cranky and disoriented.   They start pickin’ on each other to the point  there ain’t no controlin em’,  and purty soon they git sick and stop producin’ altogether.    If’n  you don’t get the dung cleaned out, things  get so bad the whole brood goes ski-wompus, and you have to get a new brood.  We folks at the coffee klatch reckon as how that’s the way things are in Congress these days.  We’re thinkin’ it looks as how most of them politicians have been afflicted with that terrible brain disease called, Iminitferme(sound it out ,folks, it ain’t that hard to pronounce).

We reckon as how that disease called, Iminitferme, is most prevalent amongst politicians and is a very contagious affliction that most politicians don’t have no immunity against.  If’n they’re exposed to it fer too long, they ain’t no way they’re  gonna avoid gittin it. It’s an addictive brain disease, and the symptoms are, they git to thinkin’ we the people are dependent on them fer our every need, and they know what’s best fer  us.  This disease affects their memory, and they fergit what representative government is all about. They don’t remember no more that they work fer us the people,  and they start to thinkin’ we’re their wards and subjects. Somethin’ just goes askew in their brains, and they get the picture turned upside down and they fergit we’re their boss.

It’s kinda like that feller Thomas Jefferson said.  When people cast too longnin’ an eye on an office, a rottenness develops in their behavior. They speak with a forked tongue at election time, tellin’ us the government is runnin’ amuck,  and then they head back to Washington and start doin’ more mischief.  They pass laws they expect the rest of us to live by, while exemptin’ themselves from many of them laws.

As me and my friends  see it, the Congressional chicken coop is diseased, folks, and we reckon as how there are too many loco chickens roostin’ there.  We reckon as how it’s time to cull most of them chickens from the brood, clean out the dung and start a new brood.  Some of them old   roosters and hens have been there fer thirty years or more; some of ’em nigh on to forty years.

We’ve added a few new birds to the flock the last few years, but we think them old birds that have been there for half a lifetime needs to be retired so these new ones can get on with the business of shovelin’ out the dung afore they git afflicted with the same disease them old birds has.

So we folks down at the coffee klatch decided it was time we helped them politicians git healed up from this addiction, and the best way we could do that was git the people so stirred up that they would want to help them poor politicians to git over their affliction by removin’ them from that dung filled chicken coop where they won’t be exposed to it no more.

We also decided that the longest time a person can be safe from this  Iminitferme   disease,  is about six to eight years at most,  so we think that’s about as long as they should be allowed to be exposed to this infirmary. We  think there shouldn’t be no more of them thirty or forty year birds allowed in the chicken coop.  Whatta you think?

See ya next time,

—Rube

Now, if you’d like a short respite from Rube’s Ramblin’s, I have a suggestion for you.   At upper right of this page you can click on the free download button and receive a free copy of Buddy…His Trials and Treasures.  It’s a book of short tales about the adventures of Buddy Crawford (or perhaps misadventures) as he grew up during the 1940s.

Rube’s image courtesy of Lori Corbett -Third Raven Design – lcorbett@cableone.net

 

 

 

 

 

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