Aggravation (133) Anxiety (89) April Fool (1) Bitchiness (62) Bobby (81) BP (7) Burning in Hell (34) Bush (66) Calme au Blanc (13) Catholic Church (33) Charlotte Cushman (11) Cobalt Blue (26) Confusion (8) Crime (22) Daily Life (143) Dangling Conversations (37) Deep Thoughts (33) Depravity (29) Depression (38) Divertissement (10) Embarrassing Moments (16) Family (41) Friends (105) Frozen (15) Fun (59) Gay (67) Gertrude Stein and a Companion (19) Glass Menagerie (34) Good Things (71) Government (59) Gustav (16) Hate (20) Holidays (34) Hope (34) Hugging the Shoulder (6) Humid City (9) Humor (147) Hurricanes (3) Internets (8) Jesus (5) Justice (6) Katrina (119) Latrine (15) Life in the Quarter (350) Louisiana (12) Mardi Gras (84) Mark Rylance (1) Movie Stars (33) Music (22) Nagin (20) New Orleans (126) News (28) Nighthawks (29) NOLA Partee (1) Obits (11) Our-Leaders-in-Their-Wisdom (110) Outlaw City (124) Personal (382) Photography (530) Pity Post (9) Politics (80) R I P (11) Religion (20) Retirement (11) Righteous Shit (19) Sadness (35) Saints (19) Search-Engine Crap (20) Sex (34) Sick Humor (60) Silly Stuff (146) Southern Decadence (22) Striking Words (21) Stupid Shit (213) Take Me Out (41) Tattoos (18) Tennessee Williams (62) The Human Comedy (8) Theatre (500) Thinking Blogger Award (1) Thrill Me (37) Treme (7) Valhalla (42) War (29) Weekly Photo Challenge (41) Weird Shit (8)
Friday, April 13, 2012
Unless it's you being lazy.
Then there are clear reasons that excuse the legs up in front of the TV set, the nachos on the coffee table, the intermittent dozing throughout the day and into the night.
You've fought your battles. Won some, lost a few, but here you are, unbowed.
You'll regain your energy soon enough, tackle some cause again and right another wrong.
Until then, you just let the cable news float through the ether round your head.
You find you feel deep sadness for everybody involved in the killing of young Trayvon Martin; but can't seem to muster much compassion for old whats-his-name, that politician who once ran for president and who had an illegitimate kid while his wife was dying of cancer.
You wonder what could have happened to that North Korean rocket that dropped off the radar into the sea, and what is whichever-Kim-he-is gonna do now to save face?
And a part of your waking brain ponders the great national outrage over Mrs. Mitt Romney and her work ethic.
Honk if you really, truly, cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die believe that Ann Romney raised five boys like your own mama did, without a Roman Cohort's worth of household servants and without ever having to slap a bunch of Mickey D Happy Meals down on the kitchen table because there wasn't enough food in the house to feed five kids?
And people wonder why you just want to let the world go round without you for a while.