All I Wanna Do Is Have Some Fun

Dear Mr. Obama,

In the words of one of your supporters, you don't bring me anything but down. I am tired of hearing about health care reform and financial bailouts and unemployment, and I am especially tired of all the ridiculous spending and tax hiking you and your Democrat compatriots are pushing on the people like hoodlums congregating around the corner from school, waiting to sell cigarettes and pills to vulnerable children. But as long as you seem hell bent on spending money, I have an idea for you.

It came to me one day when I witnessed some strange things. I saw a neighbor, who I'd heard had recently lost his good job, riding a bike. I suppose he could have been gritting his teeth against the wind and incoming insects, but I rather think he was smiling.

That same day, I was doing a little grocery shopping, trying to save money on special deals and making sure I was using my coupons wisely, when I saw a grown man pushing a shopping cart, in which sat another grown man. They looked like ordinary guys, not people with some sort of disability. They were laughing.

And then, on my way home from the store, I saw another man riding a bike. He was pulling one of those bike trailers for kids. But there wasn't a kid in it. There sat a grown woman, her hair blowing in the breeze. I kid you not. The man was looking back at her, and she returned his gaze. They were both smiling and laughing.

At first I was convinced the world had indeed gone mad, good material for another Stephen King book. But then I realized that in spite of, or perhaps because of, all the bad news bombarding us every day, these people had simply released their inner children for a few moments or a few hours. Recession regression, I suppose you could call it.

And that's what inspired me to make a recommendation to you: mandate that all Americans are required to have some fun.

You could simply pick a date on the calendar (perhaps your birthday, or - better yet - mine) and declare it to be National Fun Day. But I suspect that would be far too easy, and inexpensive, for your taste. It might be better if you establish a Department of Fun, and install a Secretary of Fun with a sizeable staff. They would be charged with determining how often we Americans are required to have fun, and legal definitions of what constitutues fun, and I'm sure you could squeeze a few billion into one of your House bills to support our cost of fun. Maybe even issue fun vouchers for those seriously in need of R&R.

I'll let you figure out the details, but I do have one specific request. I would like to see a regularly scheduled moratorium on bad news. It might be one hour a day, or one day a week (whatever works best for you) but during that time all news media, corporate PR firms, and other bearers of bad news would be prohibited from discussion or disclosure of anything depressing unless it was a natural act of God. Of course, you'd need to create another agency to enforce this, like maybe a National Fun Guard, with special ops troops dressed in clown suits and toting AK47 water pistols, posted at all major news, internet, and financial corporations just to be sure there are no leaks of doom and gloom. And to pay for this you should probably tax all the naysayers out there. You know, a fee of some sort for every time somebody whines about the economy, or something like that.

Okay, I think I got my point across. I'll let you figure out the rest, like how to define act of God when you can't really mention God in the law, and who's going to write the bill (it should be written by someone who actually knows how to have fun - good luck on that one) and what you're going to do about people whose definition of fun is something that could offend others; we don't want to have the ACLU getting involved here. I'll let you do the rest because right now I've got better things to do. Right now, all I wanna do is have some fun.

With utmost respect from one fun-loving citizen.

PS Thanks to newshopper.sulekha.com for that great photo of you and Sheryl.

After You're Dead

I had a record number of views on my blogs this past Monday, which is my usual day of posting. But I didn't post that day so it makes me wonder why so many viewers. It's almost as if I have more readers when I don't have anything to say. Hmmm.

It could be a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. Nobody cared about Van Gogh till after he died, and we sure all forgave Michael Jackson his transgressions once he passed on. And then there's Bill Clinton and he's not even gone yet.

I know plenty of mothers who reminisce about how wonderful their children were when it's common knowledge they were, in fact, holy terrors.

There's something about human nature that makes us care more about the individual after the fact. When someone we had right in front of us disappears, we then decide how valuable he or she was and are willing to forgive and forget.

It'll be interesting to see how many viewers I get when I go to the great beyond. They'll probably be clogging up the virtual airways for days. But until then, I think I'll keep yapping about who knows what, knowing full well nobody will care about it for (hopefully) a very long time.

Upside down

Sometimes things look better when they're upside down. Remember when, as a child, you'd lie with your head hanging off the bed and look up at your mom or your sister or your dog? They'd look weird; their mouths large and distorted, their words even coming out upside down...but it always made you laugh?

When the minority wins the race, it feels right.
But it also feels right when the politician falls off his rung...
When the banker goes bankrupt...
When the underdog wins the medal...
When the world gets turned upside down, even just a little.

I think science has it all wrong; the world isn't round. Round suggests things are equal, fair, balanced.

I think it's a lopsided world, and it needs to be shaken up every now and then.

That's why, when my cat chases my dog, I cheer.