Friday, December 10, 2010

The Fresh-Water Pirate

Does anyone else notice that the older they get the more obviously and painfully aware they become of the depressing state of our nation? I guess that's just part and parcel of self-development and adulthood (adulthood...giggle), but my main observation over the last few months, is that it really sucks. A lot.

I was a lot happier when I didn't know about the stupid, petty games that our government plays, oftentimes just to prove a point that they have already proved countless times before. I was a lot happier when I was playing with my dinosaur models or discovering boys then discovering that it is a frighteningly small number of Americans that care about helping each other. WTF on not repealing the ban on Don't Ask Don't Tell? It'll probably take us another 500 years as nation before we are able to collectively accept that gay people are people, too. I don't want to think about when we will finally get that giving breaks to the extraordinarily wealthy does not, in fact, help poor people. Or the nation.

I was just about to spiral off on a long rant about the public transportation and systematic racism but then I got really tired and forgot how to form a sentence. And think.

So, onto parrots. Yesterday I saw a parrot. I was depositing money in the skyway bank in Saint Paul and after my transaction was complete, someone behind me said "Hello!" in a loud, nasal grandmother sort of way. Upon turning, I discovered the enthusiastic greeter to be a yellow parrot on the shoulder of a man wearing tattered, weather-worn clothing. Amazing. The man was clearly a pirate, and a severely confused one at that, to find himself washed ashore in central Minnesota. Maybe though, there is a sort of off-brand pirate that hail and pillage from the Great Lakes. The fresh-water pirate. In other words, the pirate that failed the physical. Perhaps this tattered and money-transacting man was flat-footed, and so instead of pillaging tropical islands and seas, he sinks the motor boats of Scandinavians in Duluth during fishing season to get their Bud Lites. Either way, I left just as the two were beginning to do their bank transaction, but I did hear the parrot say "How are you?" to the bank teller. I guess Great-Lakes pirates adhere to Minnesota nice.


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