What a month and a half, no? The day of Trump’s near-assassination, I happened to be in Challis with a group of circled-up women, outlining rough plans if a Civil War breaks out after the election. You know. Just in casesies. (Waves white…er….American flag.)
I know what I would do, I thought to myself, getting up to go….anywhere else….I would stand in the middle of the road and say, “Flatten me now, please and thank you. It’s too late to make me breeding stock, joke’s on you.”
Putin-fleeing-journalist Masha Gessen wrote right after Trump’s election in 2016 about the apathy that sets in after a too long spell of the violently absurd.
It felt almost surreal to feel….what is this strange thing?…after Biden dropped out and Kamala was vibing her way into the presidential race.
Then it popped into my mind, a long-forgotten phrase fully formed by the wise words of Sarah Palin: “It’s that hopey changey thing.”
It’s been a long, long time, hopey changey thing. Nice to feel you again.
Custom Leather Works blue leather & wool plaid vest with a leather label impressed with a sun that reads: “Handmade by K. Kent” – $4, Idaho Youth Ranch thrift store. handmade, vintage 1960s plaid red, white & blue cotton skirt – $40, consignment / music store in New Orleans next to my AirBnB. Frye red leather top studded short boots – $60, Bombshells & Blokes fall party.
Cheeped at one of my local favorites, Bonneville Point, the spot overlooking Boise that’s legendary for French explorers yelling “Les bois! Les bois!” when first spotting the river and trees after wandering though the bleak wastelands of southern Idaho and Utah.
Cheep it until you scream in French.
Cheep 