garrison beau scott

the idea, albeit it a very abstract one, of knowing where you’re going, yet having never been there, excites me to no end. call it foreshadowing, deja vu, transcendental tourism, or just good ol’ fashioned out of body experience. whatever it is, sign me up.

of course, for the ticket to be punched in the first place, an insane amount of freedom is required. i only use the qualifier insane, as most people would label it as such, having never been able to experience the kind of freedom i am talking about. for shame.

but that brings up another matter completely. why society as a whole seems to be complacent to just see the one option when it is plain for others to see, that there are an infinite amount of directions for us to travel. is it freedom, the fear of such, or is it the opposite of freedom? are we free? are we able to fully choose left, right, or straight ahead?

of course those choices come with repercussions, some of which remain hidden until it’s too late and accountability becomes as interwoven into the experience as the joy of the moment itself, but that’s just part of the freedom, and the reason for any of it to begin with. and even the idea of giving up freedom, is in a way, a freedom in and of itself.

the ultimate in freedom, i feel, manifests itself in the eternal wanderer. gypsy, bedouin, or homeless. there’s just a lot less romanticism in being hungry and cold. why do i bring any of this up? maybe it’s because today i choose to go left. which could be interpreted as the opposite of right. as in the direction or the moral choice. you dear reader, are free to choose.

not only is the title of this post a pretty good song by the damned, it’s also a pretty cool verb. as the solstice break comes to an end, it’s time to put that verb into play.

to quote beavis, butthead, jimi hendrix, and that one idiot in a crowded theater, “Fire!”

Punctuation courtesy, The Specials.

Over the last 3 days or so, I’ve been; nervous, pessimistic, jaded, hopeful, devout, energized, diagnosed with and treated for css (chronic smiling syndrome), proud, dutiful, pained, thrilled, awed, and inspired.

And I’m not even talking about the utter beat-down laid upon the Cowboys on Sunday. Or last January for that matter.

I’d gladly, 10 times out of 10 times gladly, have traded this year’s shot at the Super Bowl for the kind of victory I (we) experienced Election Night. Hallelujah, Amen, Om, and any other expressions equaling a resounding “yes!” The kind of “yes” that comes with high-fiving, tear-wiping, and jaw-dropping as standard equipment.

At one point during the coverage, one of the panelists recalled a time when politics was America’s past-time. No World Series existed, no Super Bowl. They had elections. The emotional investment, rooting interest, and all around vibe of watching the returns come in on Election Night was an exact match on all levels to the experience of watching your team play for the Super Bowl. The only difference was the stakes.

I think we can all agree that this is an amazing country. And should any hate-monger from the fundamentalist right question the patriotism of anyone who voted for Obama, I eagerly offer the replay of what erupted in Chicago, New York and various other spontaneous spots in this and other, other I point out, countries. What the replay shows is an undeniable majority of Americans, all kinds of Americans, intensely celebrate a return to the ideals of a country they fell in love with in 1776, 1941, and 1960. Not the sham of 2000 - 2008.

But enough of the negative (for now). It’s time to celebrate. And it’s time to go to work. Obama is already on the job. Some say that he has been planning the transition and his first 100 days since he got the nod for the ticket. Some say he’s been preparing his whole life. The last thing America needs is for another blatantly obvious, tongue and cheek presidency. If he’s anything, Obama is serious about this job, he has to be, the task is large.

For the last 8 years, a hole has been dug. Dug with the highest priced, most technically advanced shovels a National Treasury can buy. The effort has been relentless, carried out at a 24/7 clip, sometimes appearing as if the existence of the hole was the sole excuse for the existence of those digging it. And now that the orders have been mandated that the digging stop, those responsible for this blight on human history will pack up their machines and simply walk away. This isn’t the Clinton Administration supposedly removing all the “W” keys from all the computer keyboards prior to handing over the keys to the Whitehouse, this is much worse. Partly because the audience is large, the expectations are immense, and the stakes are higher.

We as Americans, and especially those of us that have railed against Bush, and demanded a change in how our government governs, need to help the guy we voted for, enact the change we want. To further the “hole in the ground,” analogy, we need to show up with spoons and shovels or our bare hands if necessary, and help our 44th President with his task.

The exciting thing is we have a chance to partake in the reconstruction of so many good things. It seems as if he is asking for our help. Time to get off our asses and pitch in. Otherwise, all that standing in line and debate and effort and passion and hope will be for naught.

And what does that mean for pictures, supposedly worthy of a thousand of them?

We’re at the corner. The question is, will we turn it? Why are there so many people in this country, this world, who are afraid of the answer?