Just a rant for my friends that is too long for FB

Normally I can ignore and avoid holy days with impunity and laughter. But somehow, today’s saint’s day and its circumstances left me feeling alone and melancholy. Then as if to pour salt on an open wound, the adherents of the religion of love, peace, and compassion required me to drive 40 miles to the state line for my redemptive cure. I am safely returned to the promised land and praying on bended knee for the day when other folks will lose interest in controlling and ordering my life.

I do feel better. But not completely. I’ve let go of the anger I felt when I set out on my road to Damascus, but because I can not be vicariously forgiven for my sins and thought crimes, I feel bad for the things that were running through my mind. Happily for all involved, I’m leaving for the land of my fellow blasphemers as soon as I can possibly do it.

Meanwhile I send wishes of good luck to our friends who are missing the NASCAR race because they are fighting especially hard in Afghanistan.