Time for a Tune-Up?

So there I was 19 and staring at my VW bug and scratching my head. "I don't get it", I said to my friends dad. "It was running pretty darn good until last week, then it began to start harder, ya know crank & crank but not fire". I continued, "now it just spins all day and never starts at all".
My friends dad was a simple old New England hobby farmer, but in true New England tradition he had learned to fix almost anything. Wise beyond reason, Earl, had learned that self sufficiency relied on knowledge and the willingness to get dirty.
He looked under the hood, fiddled with a few things, made a couple of small "thought so" comments the straightened up and smiled at me.
"It ain't so bad", he explained. "Just need to change a few things is all". He then went on to explain the basics of car maintenance. "Change the plugs and wires, and not just the ones you think are bad, but all of 'em. Then change the oil and filter, not one or the other neither. Ya gotta change 'em both or it won't help the motor one damn bit. Next you need change that cap and rotor. After all that, it should run just fine".
I stood there, head down, thinking how expensive it was going to be. That and
I was feeling a little dumb for not taking care of my car.
Sensing my despondency, he added "don't sweat it kiddo, I'll help ya and after we change all that stuff she'll run like a top"
True enough, we did the work and my little bug was back on the road.
"Now don't forget" Earl reminded me as we washed up," you have to do this on a regular basis or she'll quit on ya again. That or eventually she'll stop altogether. Just change the fluids and tune 'er up on schedule and she'll run forever".
Wise man.
Twenty years later I had a similar conversation with one of my daughters while she stared down at a now dead truck. "Baby", I said, " you gotta change the oil once in a while. It's not the end of the world, the trucks in good shape, so we'll change the engine and she'll be good as new".
Yup, once again change fixed the problem.
So now I'm looking back east, scratching my head, wondering if a tune-up isn't over due for the capitol hill crowd. Change the oil so to speak. Then again, why not look down the street at our own local politico wannabe's, even across the water at the folks in Juneau? I mean really if you're gonna change the oil you gotta change the filter too. Otherwise the oil just gets dirty and the problem comes right back; friction versus lubrication.
Soon I will have a chance to help change the political oil with the stroke of a pen. I can participate in a government wide tune-up & I'm going to take advantage of that. I'm going to check the block next to the new person on the ballot. Some will call that a "protest vote", so be it. However; if enough voters turn out and check that block, then "protest" will turn into "upset". So long as the candidate believes in Democracy and loves our country, I'm willing to give them a shot. Really folks, if they don't work out, then in a few years I'll just change the oil again and again and again.
I apologize in advance to my friends that hold office. Please do not take my decision personally. Even if I think you are doing a good job, I'm not going to vote for you. Changing one bad spark plug will only lead to another failing later, so ya'll gotta go. Don't sweat it if you don't make to another term this time. Shoot, take a break, enjoy some time with your family. Re-connect with the folks you used to represent, then run a gain next time.
The USA was once called "The Grand Experiment", so let's do it folks. Let us be bold, let use be daring, let us shed the security blanket that we knitted and is now strangling us. Let us be Americans.
Do right thing folks no matter how scary it may be.
Peace

The perfect cure.

Being it is the holiday season, I have been coming across assorted remembrances of the famous furry trio known as The Chipmunks. In their day, they probably sold more albums than that other made-for TV band, The Monkees. Now they seem to pop up on numerous blogs. Shoot, even Gryphen wax's nostalgic over the annoying mini-mammals. Perhaps Elwood summed it up best, so check out his spin on the chalkboard scraping super group.
As for me? Well, many, many years ago in an effort to earn desperately needed cash I worked at a Santa's Village tourist trap back east.
For three years every Sat& Sun between Sept and Jan I worked for 9-10 hours a day.
The owner had only two Christmas albums in stock. A fifties rock collection and the Chipmunks. These were played in a continuous loop over the entire compound, imagine how challenging that was in the the days of vinyl.
It was not a bad gig, I met a lot of people, learned some skills, and got to play with many exotic animals. It was also where I got to meet my first Kodiak bear. His name was Billy and he was far from home.
The bad side is that 30 years later I would still flinch whenever I heard those warbling soprano's start up.
Now, what cured me of Eutamiasphobia?
I got to spend a large part of this summer with one of my granddaughters. When ever the Kodiak summer turned wet and wild we settled in with her small but well used favorite movie collection.
To my chagrin I discovered the chipmunk movie in the back of the pile.
It had been placed in the back by her mother, in hopes that it would not surface to often. Better to watch Monsters Inc. repetitively than one more run through those furry little sadistic singers.
Once Flower saw that DVD, the Chipmunk chant began. Gritting my teeth I placed it in the player. After all, how can you say no to a child as bright as any summer day? A child whose smile and scream of Pappy!, as I came through the door, would push all the dark and weary parts of my day away and replace them with light and joy.
Gritting my teeth, I placed the DVD in and sat back, secretly hoping that some defect would prevent it from playing. No such luck.
But luck has a funny way of turning out doesn't it?
Watching the movie was relatively painless. Watching Flower, watch the movie was priceless. Listening to her sing, quietly, along overcame years of self induced bias.
How do I know I am cured?
Last weekend I was part of the Santa drive-by out here in Flatville. As we cranked out the kiddy tunes over the P.A. there came up the inevitable "Christmas Time", by the trio.
Watching the joy of those kids as Santa stepped off the firetruck, and Alvin and the gang warbled, I did not flinch. In fact I smiled.
Thank you Flower. Thank you Alvin, Theodore, & Simon. You have taught this old Flatratter that the circle is truly round.
Peace ya'll