Great, now this election year can be all about gay marriage, a human-rights issue we could have solved years ago. Concerned about sexual morals? Then get to work bringing pedophile priests, domestic abusers and human traffickers to justice.No shit.
Meanwhile, this nation's policy discourse should be about liberating us from the corrupt corporate-congressional revolving door and realistically addressing what's headed our way from tar-sands filth, BP dispersants, Monsanto poisons, melting ice caps, Fukushima, and our own nuclear mess. Wake up, people! Someone else's marriage can't kill you, but the rest of this stuff could.
Rob Kailey's post in Montana's A Chicken Is Not Pillage elicited a flashback.
I recall this from the hang glider launch on Mt. Sentinel:
The wind was dead all day and we passed the time kicking the hacky sack.
Late in the afternoon a massive cloud filled the western horizon so everybody but me, the driver that day, ran their gliders into a scant breeze to beat the weather.
By the time I got off the mountain and back to the LZ, the golf course, the sky was so dark the street lights were coming on.
Not having thought to turn on a radio, I was totally freaked when ash began falling from the sky. Only after running back to the pickup and turning on the news did I learn.
The next week in Missoula was spent inside with the windows duct-taped shut and not being able to see the sun or even across the street, for that matter. An emergency executive diktat from the governor shut the town down.
Stores ran low on essentials and going outside meant stinging eyes and sand gritting in your teeth.
After a week of cabin fever, I took the top off my '65 Land Cruiser, drove into the Rattlesnake, and saw my first black bear in Montana.