Eat more Chicken

As a small business owner my social obligations are limited. I am responsible for providing a work environment that is conducive to growth. This ensures my employees can financially support their families and that I earn enough after taxes to give my family the means to live comfortably. Beyond that, my opinions on who utilizes my services are open for public support or disdain depending on the positions I espouse. Any consumer can make the choice to support my business or look elsewhere for the service we provide. A corporate decision to close on Sunday’s or not cater to a certain population is my choice alone and the ramifications of that decision will yield specific economic results that do not impact anyone except our employees and myself. In light of the Chick-fil-A fiasco it is obvious that being outspoken on hot button issues can and will result in changes to the bottom line. I offer this philosophical position. I choose to spend my money where and when I desire. No outside forces drive me to purchase anything if I do not approve of the seller. My customers are entitled to the same privilege. Therefore I have the right to offer any opinion I choose on any topic and the buying populace will make their choice. The management team members at Chick-fil-A have the right to make any statement or corporate decision they choose and I have the right to spend my money elsewhere if I disagree. Our liberal media has advocated for an alternative position by lobbying legislative support that would negatively impact this organization’s ability to conduct business. This creates a negative environment for everyone. To extrapolate this would mean that over time the government, via the push from a particular faction, will be able to dictate what you buy and from whom. In the simplest terms that is un-American and over steps in dramatic fashion all aspects of free enterprise. This furor, raised over a public position taken by a private entity, is unwarranted. Spend your money where you wish. Speak out publicly if that suits you but this is not a topic that should involve any government comment or action. When the state decides you should not purchase a chicken sandwich from a certain vendor they are only short steps away from deciding all aspects of your private life. My position is not as an advocate of the statements made nor is it an indictment of anyone’s personal choice about what they buy. All must follow their individual convictions. Let the consumers dictate the punishment or edification of any corporation’s choice to verbalize controversial opinions. If you don’t appreciate the statements made eat a burger.

The Shrew is Tamed Accessorize doo rags; salvation over Osteen. Living on plastic; liquor store closed. Marlboro cowboy; ventilator wheezes. Adult comic books; litter Metropolis. Stream everything; listen blindly. Pick your thief; always November. Calm the nerves; gobble a pill. Coca-cola; icons rust. Microsoft daddy; owns your soul. Three cars; five color TV’s Work by day; Kardashian’s by night. American’s dream; Breaking bad. Zombie safe room; Hemmingway’s dead. Powerball fantasy; double-wide lodging. Learn up the young; before twilight. TSA patdown; cheap thrills abound. Anthony, Zimmerman; bedtime stories. Real housewives; miss June Cleaver. Fear factor; Seal team six. Food stamp riot; vanity plates. Vampire cinema; Archie Bunker. 70’s glam; 90’s angst. So long Roosevelt; hello Palin. Expired library card; TMZ is king.

Guns are people too.

Will the never ending philosophical ramblings regarding gun control ever cease? I think not. The portion of the population that endorses government intervention into all areas of our society will be there right in line at the gun store when the reality touches home. There will be a never ending parade of James Holmes's for us to disect after their apparently random acts are accomplished. Create all the legal blockades you please and these type of people will still attain their destructive goals.Most will not be stopped until after harm is rendered. Accept the reality that our criminal justice system is incapable, through no fault of their own, to uncover these plots before they are implemented. When these events occur the arguement leaves the theorectical realm and enters our personal space. Amazing how the gun shops in a liberal state like CO. are now selling weapons like cotton candy at the state fair.Surprised? I'm not. How many lives would have been saved IF Mr Holmes was scared off by the knowledge of Batman fans carrying in that theatre? Or, if not dissuaded from his chosen path, possibly he could have been put down promptly like a rabid pitbull, saving countless suffering relatives and blameless victims alike. If one trained, legally entitled hand gun permit holder was attending that movie I surmise the outcome would have been far different. Does shooting back lower your moral equivalant? What would Jesus do? I don't profess to know but since we are all guessing in this regard my hypothesis is as good as anyone's. Jesus would have shot first and asked questions later. Yes, just like Harry Callahan. It is morally unjust to stand by and let harm befall a defenseless person if you have the means to end it. Accepting this moral reality is a huge factor in the gun control arguement. Are we that sheep-like that we wish for the goverment in some far off location, whose intentions are driven primarily by economics, to protect us, our families and random strangers for that matter? I am not. "If everyone has guns then people will just be shooting each other in the streets" My reply to this stance is this.. No they won't. Humans are blessed with incredible instincts for self-preservation. If an area of your city is unsafe it is not because the people there have guns it is because there are some people there who don't. Personally I would feel much safer if everyone on my street had guns. The likelihood of shooting issues between neighbors is significantly more remote than the invasion of people who do not respect us knowing that the odds are we won't be armed. Yes it is true shootings will increase, briefly, between people with poor inpulse control, however these numbers will be minute compared to the crimes that wont be committed and lives saved because the criminals will not know who has weapons and who doesn't. Save the live in peace without guns rhetoric. I am not willing to accept the role of passive, trusting lemming who assumes the position and hopes the criminals leave my ass alone. Those days are over, if they were ever real to begin with. We have been inundated with stories of passive people who have been shot for nothing other than some dark personal fantasy. That end is not acceptable for me or those I care about. I'll obligate no man to protect me or hold them accountable for madmen or predators. Every man needs to be responsible for themselves. Maybe that is the basis for this whole discussion. Who are you responsible for? I'm patiently waiting for the lefties to spin their intense pressure on the legislature to impend more law abiding citizens from acquiring protective weapons. Someone could have stopped that maniac; case closed. Speak up now lefties and tell us how it helps to keep guns from the citizenry.

White Lines Double clutchin’ like a mother, Calvin punches the presets. “Last Child, Just a punk in the streets” explodes out of his speakers, hitting his rotten molars like hot grease on fire. If only, maybe, he knew what to say when he got there and how to say it. No matter how many miles, tears, rock anthems or hookers her body haunted his sleep. Ebony was not a black haired beauty with big dark eyes like Mr.Seger said but she was just fine for Calvin. Forged in the strip mined hills by a couple of eager kids in a rusted Ford Bronco; Ebony liked everyone a little bit but trusted no one. The diner’s beer lights glowed making her skin shine. She had all the drivers wishing for a double black refill even when their back teeth were floating. Maybe lucky for Calvin, or maybe not, he was the one she poured the sugar on. Not so sweet the country boy would run away, but just enough to churn honey from buttermilk. Passing time and orange cones on the lonely interstates gave Calvin too much time to think. He wonders if maybe putting a ring on Ebony’s finger will fix the problems or just cause him more aggravation. When he gets back to town they will settle this thing; right or wrong, every story needs an ending. He hits Allentown like a tornado, only eight hours to go and they will be together again. He misses the passion her coal dark soul can create. Many nights with the wood stove turned down they shared the one lonely space left undiscovered. Memories, like frayed redundant blankets, are strewn about like Barbie’s doll clothes. Phil Lynott belts out The Boys are Back, trying Calvin’s patience as he creeps through the night. The old nowhere turnpike is one surreal place to travel when you have somewhere else to be. The bug splattered windshield provides an opaque worldview just in time for the thunderhead to explode. Along with the rain came a sense of foreboding as he eased the Peterbilt down the drive. Patience he thought, little tricky working those curves with a full load and a muddy road. Getting home was always a melancholy time. Calvin loved the road as much as he had ever loved anything. Knowing that was one of the reasons he wished Ebony would stay. You all know about the other reasons. No matter, when his feet hit the dirt it felt like chains. Never enough time to shorten the list of chores and obligations that went along with his run down double-wide. Especially now that he had a bunkmate; she wouldn’t let him slide on all that stuff like when he flew solo. He made extra sure his boots were left by the door and his wet clothes were not just flags on the kitchen chairs. That’s all he felt up to after the last run. He grabbed a High Life and turned on the ballgame. The Mudhen’s on local TV were an excellent distraction as he let his mind wander. Since Ebony’s shift at the diner ended early she ran some errands. Hard to get much done at 1am in a one horse town but she always found a way. He never worried where she was when he was on the road but sure was a jealous man when he was home. Standing in the doorway, paper bags in hand, she could see his uncomfortable silhouette in the threadbare recliner. Quietly she placed all of her purchases in their rightful places and poured 3 fingers of rye to escape the night stalking memories that filled her sleep. Pacing as she drank she wondered if all of this was worth the hassle. Maybe it’s time to go your own way or was that just Fleetwood Mac on the radio. She sat on the worn sofa and thought about what might be. After a time, undetermined when it rains, Cal wakes. He looks at Ebony, seeing clearly the tears that heartache brings. Closing his eyes again, knowing he hasn’t the courage to make a change.