PotshotsOh, dear, now Americans are confused about what crayon to use when coloring Barack Obama in their Presidential Candidates Coloring Book. Elsewhere, strange news from Yahoo Inc. and ExxonMobil. To worry along with Poncho, click on potshots. |
Thinking it over ...Read on for a reflection on life and events, as the spirit moves me Grateful for Gratitude By Félix Alfonso Peña Lord, please, make those people grateful. Bet you’re surprised that this prayer ain’t all about me, but I want you to know I think about other people a lot. Like the waitress at the burger and fries place I been goin' to just hopin' I can catch her eye. I think about her an awful lot, and I worry about her, too. Last time I was there, that stretch top wasn’t diggin' into her flesh around the arms and other parts like it used to. I hope she’s not sick and losin' weight or somethin', because she looks real, real healthy to me just the way she is, or was. And when she leaned down to put my meal on the table, she just didn’t look as healthy as she used to. I mean, healthy, like it takes your breath away. Well, maybe not your breath, but mine sure is affected. So don’t let her be sick, Lord. See there’s a little prayer for her tucked in right now. And I think about other folks, too, like when they cut me off on the highway or beat me to a parkin' spot. Or when I'm at the gas pump fillin’ up the ol’ 4X4 and those people in them little bitty cars stare at the dollar amount on my pump as it keeps goin' up and up and up, and they’re all done and gettin' out of there and I’m still pumpin'. They kinda look like they feel sorry for me, Lord, but it’s them what’s drivin' around in a foreign car, not me. So I try and feel sorry for them, Lord, because I’m always workin' at bein' a good person. And those people in the Middle East that don’t appreciate the gift of freedom we been tryin' to give them all these years. From what I hear they can’t even get it together to pump some oil for us. Is that gratitude? Maybe we shoulda let ‘em have some more shock and awe to teach ‘em all about gratitude. I mean, instead of blowin' each other up and settin' up roadside bombs, they oughta establish the Thanks a Lot Y’all convenience stores all over the USA and sell gas for a buck a gallon after all we’ve done for them. See, I just want people to be grateful, which is what I started to pray about. But it’s not the foreigners over there that I was talkin' at you about, or prayin' at you. It’s the ones over here. I mean, I pick up Newsweek at the quick lube place, good ol’ American Newsweek, and I have to pick my way around this foreign guy who’s tellin' us Americans what the world is like and what we should be doin' about it. Fareed or somethin' like that. A foreigner, God. No wonder I don’t subscribe to that magazine. I feel like sayin', “Hey, dude. We’re the ones that saved the world back in 1940-whatever. We won, remember? So who are you to tell us what to do? I mean, when was the last time your country won a war?” And these foreigners sit around at the coffee shop with their laptops and sippin' on lattes and they talk about stuff like trade imbalances and business indicators and supply side economics and interest rates and stuff. It’s probably all stuff they got from this guy in Newsweek. Hey, they should just be grateful we let ‘em in. I feel like tellin' ‘em: “Dudes, what more do you want? You got freedom of speech here. Just shut up and enjoy it!” If they was grateful, I would be happy. And they’d be happy, too, Lord. See, I just want everybody to be happy. And don’t forget about that waitress. I’d be real disappointed if she didn’t stay healthy. Keep on truckin’, Lord. I know I will, on account of I don’t have nothin' but a truck to drive. ‘Cause I ain’t a foreigner.
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