"The Last Darwin Award: Send in the Twelve TourGuides Frowning"
a creative nonfiction mini-bibliomemoir to @emailclinton.com (now that I have correct address)
A recent reference to the gender stereotype of women as cowardly reminds me of a delusionally demented Virginia Valley criminal idiot (reich wing "lawyer" selling his Detroit-UnionFactory self-soul for a shell-game government appointment) --embarked now with fellow co-travellers on another global gorge for grunge -- 18 years past alluding to my 3-4 months of thoughtfully deliberate house selling and furniture/heirloom packing to relocate out of that miserably corrupt and unliveably felonious drugged-out drunken proto-confederate "charming southern" state as "running and hiding." And of that criminally insane jurisdiction of befuddled southern "whitey boy and girl" junkee user/dealers extradicting me back a decade or so ago as a "fugitive from justice" as if I'd been an escaped slave rather than a fully-enfranchised mature adult native-born W.A.S.P. taxpaying senior citizen freely choosing another residence venue.
That was the near-lethal pharma-abetted and "too-big-to-fail" corporate-controlled Climate Change there with its wrecked rivers, bug-infested fields, putrid air leached from toxic for-profit landfills, and noxious fumes from traffic-bogged high-ways. We may all be living/dying out The Last Darwin Award from trashed ocean to parboiling sea, from raped mountain to refuse-clogged artery stream, from chem-trailed apple to GMO-strafed child.
But survivors will have Money, or at least numbers on a ledger -- inequitably distributed -- so maybe a clean, healthy new planet and civilization for some or all can be bought or wrought from the remains of Nowhere with all its toothless laws in the states of sorriness.
Maybe HRC will share for our Last Supper her recipes for fried chicken and gravy which every southern wife must prepare acceptably for congenial allowance into the fam. No doubt the junketing junkees of Jonesborough's piggy banks will get out their ukes, bass and banjos to strum a farewell requiem to earthy bumming and bummers sniffling over homebrewed suds on sniffs of homegrown buds at the town's progressive pity party. Buy your ticket today while they last!
Addendum: ACRInc's devestiture of spiritually-incompatible VA-TN is nearly complete and as irrevocable as is their legendarily tragic damage in joint mysogynist crimes, past to present, onto peeps and props. As I have kin through my grandfather (Hartford) and father (Danbury) in the state, I am in the process now of arranging personal/professional relocation to Salisbury, CT. Geographically it's enticingly near the MA border and the AT and in comfortable commuting distance to Manhattan. I've tentatively garnered pleasurably dependable live-in homecare there also. It'll all be awhile as there are lotsa options for us to explore and micro-decisions to make here during my New England Homesick Blues!