Queen-in-Exile, of course. She moved in across the alley, into the little house I rented for a year once. That wasn’t a problem, but her bus was. It seems her Prime Minister moved my trash can to park it. On Trash Day!
It was a good thing my sleep was short and I saw what was happening early, or my overflowing Thanksgiving trash would never have got picked up.
I cussed out the Minister guy for a full minute. Who did he think he was, moving into a poor neighborhood like this and moving people’s trash cans for his own parking convenience?
There were other suspect elements to the scene.
The bus said “Ecuador” on the side. WTF.
As far as I know, Bolivia hasn’t had a Queen, at least not since the days of the Inca. What was one doing in Sandrock?
It turned out she was just a crazy person with a Minister in a slick suit, and a bus that said Ecuador for reasons never discovered.
This is how I dream.
In any event, I was sitting down with my first cup when the trash was picked up very early, 8:39 AM, in the reality we call real.
And certainly I was rebelling against the authority of the bad Dean and even the good Chair, but making them royal because it was a better story for my own nocturnal viewing.
This is how I dream:
“You’ve taken the big leap! Here are your next steps. While waiting for your LLC (we know, we’re excited for the outcome too!), we want to give you a clear picture of what happens in between now, and until your order ships.
…
Congratulations again, and cheers to new beginnings!”
***
I don’t want to work
I want to bang on the drum all day
I don’t want to play
I just want to bang on the drum all day
Ever since I was a tiny boy
I don’t want no candy
I don’t need no toy
I took a stick and an old coffee can
I bang on that thing ’til I got
Blisters on my hand because
I don’t want to work … [chorus]
When I get older, they think I’m a fool
The teacher told me I should stay after school
She caught me pounding on the desk with my hands
But my licks were so hot, I made the teacher wanna dance
And that’s why
I don’t want to work … [chorus]
I don’t want to work … [chorus]
Every day when I get home from work
I feel so frustrated, the boss is a jerk
And I get my sticks and go out to the shed
And I pound on that drum like it was the boss’ head
Because
I don’t want to work … [chorus]
Parental Lyrics Advisory:
i don’t mind working–I even like it
i don’t mind playing–what’s not to like?
What i really don’t want is a boss
What i really don’t want is a job.
This distinction becomes important when we run into guys like this, who looks (and preaches) sorta like Louis CK.
He makes things worse by talking about “Working” and making it sound like that’s pretty much the same as having a job.
Don’t get me wrong. The whiny little teenager at the start of his story annoys me as much as she does him. But we totally part company when he starts in on those damn socialist politicians, and Discipline being the answer to all that ails everybody. He does his argument no favors by strategically aligning himself with John Hickenlooper, nominal Democrat.
It’s not that I don’t want to work, dude, in spite of Todd Rundgren’s pithy telling of it. It’s that I don’t want to live a life at the mercy of the jerk boss and his whole wage-slave capitalist mentality.
Amen.