The Coffee Walk Bunch

So, I work with some guys.  They’re regular guys.  Most of them are about my age and mostly share my point of view on the direction the country is moving and whom they want to win in November.  Every workday morning, we trek down the incredibly long corridor of our corporate rat’s maze to the polished stainless counters of the company cafeteria where we get our free coffee.  Not all drink this brew.  I’ve always described the taste as a combination of battery acid and pencil shavings so I only make the daily journey for the camaraderie and exercise.

Over the last few months I have noted that two reactions have set in with this group.

One group is resigned to a Clinton victory.  I have been unable to budge them into hope.  The only good of this is the $20 bet (that we’ve dubbed a “tubman”) I have going with one of them.

The other group, of which I am a member, sees the possibility of a Trump victory.  Some limit their hope to this victory.  Nakedly apparent in their hope is the fear that they’re wrong.  Wrinkled brows are there during every bull session.  Hope is a thin veneer and comfort is slight.

But then there’s me.  I am calm.  I have finally faced my demons.  I have admitted to myself that the United States aren’t.  I now know that there are at least two (and probably several) distinct groups occupying the geographic territory known as the USA.

One of those groups was the one I thought was the US.  These are people who believed in all the traditions and values that until sixty years ago defined the way of life of almost all Americans.  Another of these groups is the progressives.  They believe the opposite.  Until recently I believed these people were mostly good hearted people who were mistaken as to the results of the policies they espoused.  I did not think that they were intent on destroying the traditional ways of life.  I now know I was wrong.  These people are intent on destroying everything that I believe is good in this world.  They want to put an end to the traditional family.  They want to outlaw the normal relations between men and women.  They are working to replace parental rights with state control of all aspects of child-rearing.  They desire to undermine all institutions that compete with the state bureaucracy.  And they want to eliminate the ability of people to oppose the state.

I could go on and on (and one future post I will) but suffice it to say these people are neither friends, allies or even countrymen.  They are the reason the Unites States has ceased to exist.

So, there I am.  I admit the US is gone.  I don’t have to worry whether the next president will maintain and strengthen the laws and institutions.  He won’t.  We’ll continue down the slope to Sodom.  My only responsibility is to identify the course of action that I will follow to minimize the damage to myself, my family and my friends.  This will involve subterfuge, dissemblance and devious tactics.  But once you recognize your opponents as such, it’s no longer necessary to treat them honorably.  And so, the tension about the fate of the country is gone.  And the worry goes away.  It’s quite liberating and almost fun.  It’s much easier to be the pirate than the preacher.

And that is what I’ve been telling the Coffee Walk Bunch.  It’s sort of the “don’t worry be happy” line.  It’s actually quite annoying to the folks worrying.  But I come by it legitimately.  You see I’ve been sweating all the elections and progressive changes since Richard Nixon was in office.  I’ve finally seen the light and I’ll wait for these poor souls to see it too.

So now I can look forward to the Trumpocalypse or the Clinton Catastrophe with equal equanimity and even wry amusement.  Whichever way it goes I hope it involves at least a Page 6 babe and possibly a cover on the Enquirer.  But either way the Coffee Walk Bunch will have plenty to talk about next week.

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Mr. Coffee
Mr. Coffee
5 years ago

Considering I am the worst gambler alive the $20 bet was more of an insurance policy then anything. To me it was going to be a victory, either a moment in time I could define as a change in my bad gambling luck at the cost of freedom or the emence entertainment of what you have quaintly dubbed the Trumpocalypse. The Coffee Walk will continue and the battery acid will be consumed only now with large grins and a sparkle in the eye all around.