In the two mile bastion of turkey shoots, used car lots, tow trucks, side arms, barely hidden bigotry, occasionally open racism I roam Highway 97 in Lycra. Yes, the type yoga pants are made of. Mine has butt pads. Recently learned I’m called a MAMIL. I am not ashamed.
I quietly listen as you denounce wage increases and single payer health care. I listen to your angered anti-tax rants. I loathe your fear of government, immigrants, regulation… Your fear of everything. Such constant fear. I hear you don’t like the suppression of your Christian practices while denouncing all other worship, threatening those who dare. Your island was breached long ago. I move among you a dissenter. A free thinker without fear. No feeling of loss or emptiness when shunned by the local community, a non worshiper. One who does not allow any religious teachings to form my opinions. I am not distressed by your local, revered past time; judging others. I pity it.
This is a day of self liberation and political awareness. Inside this red sea of conservative dogma and sweet tea slang resides more than tow trucks, shot guns and rednecks. There is a liberal in the ranks. One who has gay friends yet is not gay. Some married, residing among you locally. True story. I’m the one who prefers to ride a bike instead of driving a pickup. One whose children attend your coveted, local, conservative charter school. Someone who does not think unstable, anti-social, insane people should be armed, despite any amendment or sanctimonious perceived right. Dear Zeus, I drive a Subaru in your zip code! I am certain this is causing some Lizard Lick locals extensive anguish so I will have mercy just one time and not extrapolate on my cycling adventures to Whole Foods and experiences with fine wine.
If all that hasn’t created an unhealthy blood flow, caused an extra drip of Skoal or mustard into your beard I will leave you with this: Reagan was wrong on the economy and all Muslim’s are not Islamic extremists.
Let’s begin. Namaste