Tuesday, October 13, 2020
I went for an aimless drive on Saturday. It was accidental. I set out to haul the recycling and buy a can of Coke at the gas station, which they didn’t have so I settled for a 20oz plastic bottle. I left the gas station and got stuck in the turn lane where I’d usually make a u-turn back towards home and thought whatever, why not just go for a couple of miles. It felt good to be out. It was pretty weather, apart from the wildfire smoke, and the fall colors were in full effect. A couple of miles turned into 20 or 30.
I was feeling relaxed when I got back to town, turning over ideas about stuff I wanted to write and stuff I needed to do in the yard. Then I came around a curve and there were a bunch of flags waving, which resolved as I got closer into a little Trump rally: MAGA hats, banners, oversized pickups, jeering shitheads. I flipped them off as I went past and caught a full wave of rage noises, although the only specific phrases that stuck in my memory were a chorus of “fuck you!"s and a single "God bless America!”
I went back to the house all keyed up on stupid animal loathing and made a “YOUR GUY SUCKS” sign on a cardboard box, but by the time I headed out the door to stand across the street and get screamed at they’d dispersed for the day. It was down to three teenagers looking a little confused about where to stand while trading insults with drivers. A few big coal-rolling pickups with flags in the back trickled through town over the next hour or two and that was it, more or less.
“YOUR GUY SUCKS” isn’t much of a message. I couldn’t think of anything more high-minded that was also true. I just didn’t want them there, being the way they are, and I wanted them to know it.
They feel, I’m sure, the same way about me.