Sleepless In Anderson, Indiana
Oct 24 '00
There's no man on Earth who's going to brainwash me into voting against my own personal convictions.
I don't care if we're talking about the most swoon-inspiring man on the Epinions.com website who is trying to charm all of us damsels into becoming Boy George fans--and WAIT! I smell a rat when it comes to my swoon-inspiring teddy bear of a minister, too! I did some work for him in trade for paying off a used computer he was selling me--but, to tell the truth, he still practically handed it to me on a silver platter!
Suddenly, I've become suspicious that the two swoonees have been in cahoots all along. I think the telephone conversation went something like this:
Pastor Jerry: Hey Jim, ol' buddy! How are ya doing?
Candidate Jim: Not too great. I'm having an awful time getting people to see it our way when it comes to getting them to sing Deep In The Heart Of Texas, The Yellow Rose Of Texas, Texas When I Die, and all of those other Lone-Star State songs that will get them in the mood to behave at the polls in November 2000.
Pastor Jerry: Not to worry! I think I have just what you need back here in Indiana. We're talking dedicated! She's currently been telling everybody what a studmuffin I am and. . .
Candidate Jim: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What gives!?! Haven't I told you a million times that there's only room in this world for one studmuffin and I'm it!?! Besides, your good looks are working against us because you look too much like the enemy!
Pastor Jerry: Sorry Jim! Can't help what I look like! But just relax and listen to the rest of my game-plan. This chick is working off a computer--but I'm going to speed things up a little and tell her it's been paid-in-full. . .
Candidate Jim: Jerry, Jerry, Jerry-Baby! What are you trying to pull!?! She'll never give me a second look. . .
Pastor Jerry: Yo! Jimmy! Are we getting a little insecure here? Besides, you have something I don't have that will make you run circles around me: Your single status!
Candidate Jim: True! True! But how are we gonna lure this chick over to where I am?
Pastor Jerry: Piece-of-Cake! She's a writer. And she's opinionated--or, in the Cyber realm E-pinionated. I'd advise you to sign up at this Epinions.com site, get settled in, and be watching for her. She's bound to show up sooner or later. When she does, just swoon over her a little and tell her she's the ultimate poet, and she'll swoon right back. Once you win her over, you can tell her that the moon is made of Silly Putty and she'll believe it!
Candidate Jim: Roger! Gotcha Jerry-Baby!
That's what you guys think, huh!?!
Sorry! I'm not buying into your little game-plan!
Besides, there's the case of my poor, old uncle.
I just received a letter in the mail from him today telling me how happy he was that I was going to vote for Al Gore. How can I let poor Uncle Kermit down by telling him that I'd changed my mind--especially when he's been threatening to leave the country if George W. Bush wins!?! How sad for him to go to the grave knowing that his dear niece played a part in his having to leave "The Center of the Universe" (as he likes to call Bloomington, Indiana) for parts unknown!?!
How sad for me when he's no longer around to treat me to delicious and filling dinners at The Irish Lion followed by rich desserts at The Encore Cafe (I really must write about those two places soon!). We have another face-stuffing rendezvous planned for November 8 and November 9. But what if George Duh-Bully wins? Will that mean that, by then, my beloved uncle will be Europe-bound on an SST?
If you happen to be at the Irish Lion and/or The Encore Cafe one or both of those nights, look around. If you happen to see two people stuffing their faces (the woman looking like a professional face-stuffer and the man somehow managing to look buff in spite of his equally-excellent job of face-stuffing), you'll know that either Gore won or else UK has decided that there still isn't a better place on earth to live than The Center of the Universe (something I'm certain that Levda can understand).
But, seriously, where do I fit into this voting scene?
Well, I can tell you one thing: I think that either Bush or Gore is better than the two strange ones at the bottom of the list. I know that, if I refuse to vote for one of them and others do the same, we're going to be stuck with an even worse-case scenerio.
Do you know what this reminds me of?
It reminds me of the time that I was Sleepless In Anderson, Indiana!
It all began on July 6, 1989.
I was starting home from visiting Mark, Barbara, Karen, and Grandpa (Mark's grandpa) down in Tennessee and decided to drop in at HIckory Villa for something to eat when I got to Cave City, Kentucky. (Oh yes! That's another place I'm planning to write about when I get A ROUND TUIT).
There was quite a crowd there that night, and it took me a little bit to get waited on. Linda and her mother, Etta, were bustling around waiting on tables, too busy to pay much attention to me. I went ahead and ate my dinner and asked Linda for the check.
Linda looked disappointed, asking me why I had to leave so soon, just when she had time to talk.
"We're sorry that we were so busy tonight," Etta told me. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow when you drop by the cave." (Etta's also an interpretive park ranger at Mammoth Cave along with helping her husband out with his restaurant).
"I won't be here tomorrow," I told her and Linda. "I'm starting back home tonight and am just going to drive until I get there."
They both looked worried and told me to be careful because it was getting awfully late. They begged me to reconsider and grab a motel room. I told them that I could not only not afford another night out but that I was sure that the motels were booked--besides, I had a dessert date with a friend back in Anderson in less than 24 more hours.
I got on I-65. By the time I was getting close to Louisville, I noticed that I was starting to see double. I'd had a very active past few days during which I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, and it was all starting to catch up with me bigtime.
As soon as I could, I exited I-65, opting for the relatively-slower and less-crowded U.S. 31. I did fine there for awhile but, as I got close to Scottsburg, Indiana, I began to see double again.
I decided to find a lighted place and pull over to sleep some. I pulled into this filling station to call my folks so they wouldn't worry, because I was delaying my drive home to take a nap. This didn't exactly put their minds at ease, either.
About that time, an older gentleman approached me, introducing himself as Charlie Miller and telling me that he was night maintenance at the rest park that was located just north of there on I-65. He told me that the park would be a safe place to sleep in my car.
When I got to the rest park, I called my folks and told them of my plans--and they told me to be sure to call them before I started driving agan. I told them that I would be ready to drive again in two or three hours, and I didn't want to disturb them with a phone call in the middle of the night.
They--like your average overly-protective parents of an only child--insisted that I call them before I left.
"In that case," I told them, "I'll just sleep all night and call you at a decent hour tomorrow morning!"
Charlie and I sat in the main building for awhile talking. Then, I headed for my car to get some shut-eye.
I woke up refreshed and looked at the clock in my car. I was ready to ramble, but I didn't want to call my folks that early, so I decided to try to go to sleep again. I decided to roll over on my left side.
BAD CHOICE!
My right foot had been resting under the brake pedal. When I went to turn my body to the left, my right leg and foot, from the knee down, stayed in the same position they had been in all night.
Those of you who don't have a trick-knee might not know what I'm talking about. Those of you who do, I'm sure, know EXACTLY what I'm talking about and are probably cringing in empathy about now!
I'll make a long story short so I can get to my main point.
Because of the position I was in, it was far from beng a piece-of-cake to pop my kneecap back into its proper position. It took an hour and ten minutes of working it to get it replaced.
Charlie was a saint. He called my folks for me, telling them not to worry and not to drive fast, because I'd be just fine right where I was. He also told them that they were to call Dave and tell him that the dessert date had been cancelled.
While I worked my knee with some sort of greasy ointment, Charlie treated me to goodies from the vending machine and popped them in my mouth for me. He was very good company, telling me about his beekeeping and other parts of his life, and I told him about the wonderful trip I'd been returning from when this happened.
When Charlie went off duty, a nice woman replaced him. We didn't get to know each other as well, because her shift was busier than Charlie's and she couldn't spend all of her time sitting with me in the car to keep me company. But she did mention that she had a football-playing son who had that same problem with his knee.
Well, I could tell you a lot more about my recovery period, but this isn't what this Epinion is all about.
Instead, having brought you to this point, I'm going to tell you what it was like to be Sleepless In Anderson, Indiana.
I would manage to get my leg into a position that was pain-free--or, at least, low on pain--so that I could get some sleep. But I would never sleep for long, for the simple reason that the once-comfortable position would soon become very uncomfortable.
It was then time to try to discover a new comfortable placement of my leg. Once discovered, it bought me a little more time to get some fairly-restful shut-eye.
But it never lasted for long.
I compare the views and methods of Al Gore and George W. Bush. I go along with my focus on one of them thinking, Not bad. Not bad at all.--only to find myself cringing at some trait in that particular one that is totally objectionable to me.
At that point, I think about what it would be like to have the other guy for President and go through the same process with him.
And so it goes. Back-and-forth like a ping-pong ball.
Sooner or later, I'm going to have to make up my mind.
Jim says that Gore is an out-and-out liar to the point of almost being downright wicked. Uncle Kermit says that Gore isn't a liar--just someone who exaggerates to make a point from time to time.
Uncle Kermit says that one more Bush in the White House will find him purchasing a one-way ticket to Europe at the nearest airport. Jim says that he doesn't agree with Bush on every issue, but, at least he's honest, and it would scare him to death to have another four years minimum of "that lying administration."
So, what's poor, little(?), ol' me to do?
Finally decide one way or the other; hold my nose, grit my teeth; and do my patriotic chore of voting--while hoping for a better person to vote for the next time around!
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
AinsleyJo
|
|
Member: Ainsley Jo Phillips
Location: Anderson, Indiana
Reviews written: 269
Trusted by: 220 members
About Me:
I'm hosting a write-off: http://www.epinions.com/content_5362983044
|
|
|
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.