Dirty Dishes Dude

I’ve been watching the dishes pile up in my sink a little too much lately. It’s kinda fucked up because I’m a chef by trade and I’m supposed to be a little cleaner than that in the kitchen.

But the Covid Rona got me all sideways about a few things. See how easy I blame the COVA (as my mother calls it) for my dirty-dishes. I’m not saying I have the virus, I’m saying the virus has me.

It’s strange to feel helpless in America. It’s new for me and new can be challenging. I’m seeing lots of uglies and noticing our false sense of confidence. This country is propped up on bullshit slogans like:

I pledge allegiance to the flag

Of the United States of America

And to the republic, for which it stands

One nation under God — “Indivisible”

With liberty and justice for all

What does that even mean? How do those lyrics have any weight in this economy? And where’s the part about sodomizing small business owners who’d prefer not to have their buttholes toyed with? If I saw more of that style of honesty I’d keep my hand over my heart.

The only thing I have to be patriotic about these days is they haven’t shut down the internet yet. WTF would we all do if they did that? “They” I found out recently is any form of unconquerable power. Be it real or between your ears.

Let me explain.

Everyone already knows Hurricane Rona has demolished small businesses. Actually, the COVA didn’t do that, the Government did. And to make matters worse, somewhere around December 5th or 6th, Gavin Newsom imposed more restrictions on small business by shutting down outdoor dining in all of California.

“They,” say this new lockdown will last through Christmas. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Yesterday I drove past a restaurant in my neighborhood and a full film crew was shooting a scene inside. Cube trucks out front, craft service tent, the whole enchilada!

My mind cranks up and I start connecting dots. So nobody can go inside or outside restaurants because of the reality of the Rona, but a film crew playing make-believe can..? Full disclosure, I have nothing against film crews.

So I take that scene in and my flummoxed nature turns to anger. I just can’t help it, the hypocrisy flips my guts and my inner altar boy wants the world to be fair.

I understand it’s about money and connections, I get it, and a friend of mine reminded me that film crews get tested daily, which brings me down a notch. Then I remind myself that I’m a UFC fan and that well-oiled machine didn’t stop once for Corona!

But that’s exactly it right there, that’s the fucked up part that takes me back up a few notches. Either everything gets shut down or none of it gets shut down. If you want to stay inside, go for it! For those who want to keep their businesses open, do it!

I know Newsom and other governors have super tough jobs at the moment and that their plates are full. And that’s exactly it right there again, their plates are full.

This lack of creativity from leadership has rendered me this: They don’t give a fuck about the-masses. But they gotta know by now them-asses can’t be that stupid.

No wonder this moment in time has given conspiracy freaks a platform. We’re all forced into political voices when democracy shows us how crooked things are.

So how can I control my anger? This is a new style of anger for me. I know how to control old anger, but this new rage gives me visions (insert dream sequence) of me walking my hairy belly towards a cage wearing Muay Thai shorts in a packed arena with this “John Martin” song blasting over the PA system:

There was a time

I used to look into my Father’s eyes

In a happy home

I was a king, I had a golden throne

Those days are gone

Now the memory’s on the wall

I hear the songs

From the places where I was born

Don’t you worry don’t you worry child

You see heavens got a plan for you

Don’t you worry don’t you worry now

Yeah!!

Then I see Gavin, he’s strutting towards the cage in his blue suit to this beast of a “Queen” song:

Buddy you’re an old man, poor man

Pleading with your eyes, gonna get you some peace someday

You got mud on your face, big disgrace

Somebody better put you back into your place, do it!

We will, we will rock you, yeah, yeah, come on

We will, we will rock you, alright, louder!

Then “they” lock the cage door… And we get Chuck Palahniuk dirty on each other until we both realize we need a hug…

Then my iPhone alarm goes off and my snooze button challenges me to do as I say not as I do…

But I’m still in the same place… What do I do with this newly awakened anger of mine?

Get up and go clean your dirty dishes dude.