Smells Like Crap

I wanted to use the “S” word, but in honor of my British friends and foes, “crap” it is. Now crap can mean a whole lot of different things when in company of the Trenton War loosing party! Take the following. “Hey mate, how about going to get some of that crap for lunch?”. Herein “crap” most likely means fish and chips with a side of – not coleslaw – but mushy peas. And “What the crap is going on?”, it means hell! I guess that one word can mean a bunch of different things. Anyway, I just went on a bike ride even though the editorial responses found recently in the Anchorage Daily Stool considered this an act of madness and warned against such lunacy. See, it is breakup season and we just passed a bunch of bonds along with minimum wage appropriations that will be used to promote public safety while driving, so people are pissed that pedestrians may get to enjoy walking, or biking along the Anchorage streets. And since bike riders have been in hibernation with winter upon us, I thought it would be appropriate to wake up the road rage early on so it gets out of everybody’s system before school is out for the summer. Think of it this way, if the rage gets loosened up, kids can take to the street on wheels and maybe get by without broken bones during the summer months here in Anchorage. And then the bondsmen doesn’t have to spend money on the low-life street people. Really, any bond that even hints that the pedestrians may get a break is pure “crap”. Why? Pedestrians - bikers included - become targets here in Anchorage. It is like a seasonal sport. And tourists on a visit are even becoming victims. In fact, if I were a tourist visiting this state and walking around downtown I would wear a bulletproof vest, kneepads and a construction hard hat. Anyway, the breakup was causing flash flooding along the culverts between the main road and what looked like a bike path. It acted like a safety moat. But with the gravel fallout and litter, it was hard to say whether it was a path or not that provided some semblance of a safety margin between myself and the racetrack. But it paralleled the road, so it sufficed. I couldn’t imagine trying to compete with the traffic from Service High and riding along the roadside, as all those kids leaving school must be part of an area wide driver’s training education class. Maybe it was a testosterone pandemic. Talk about dangerous. And that traffic jamming caused delays to the moms trying to get out of the cul-de-sacs. I could honestly see pain and suffering in some delayed drivers’ eyes when at an intersection, was it them or I who owned the right-of-way! Anchorage is by far the road rage capital of the universe. Anyway, when I got to my destination – Fred’s – I noticed people looking at me with strange like behavior. Similar to what I see when out and about unfamiliar territory with my British Compadres. – bar hoping mate style! Never let a Brit start to talk about “football”. Now I knew that there was a mud streak running from my crack to the nape of my neck, as I could feel the wet creeping in. But then me senses caught wind of the problem mate. I smelled like “crap”. Honestly, this was embarrassing. It wasn’t pure unadulterated Alaskan like mud, but “crap” that was making the scene. So on the way home I made an inventory of just what the hell was free-flowing away as breakup carryover. It was dog crap! The overflowing culverts smelt of “crap”, so did the mud-puddles. And I counted at least 5-dead cats along the way. And there was another dead body, big. Could have been a moose. Could have been a human. It sucked. Talk about “Alaska Is”, maybe some pictures of rotting away dog crap is in order, thank you Perchibel! So maybe that old-timer was right, about not eating the salmon that swims up Cook Inlet this time of year. That “crap” accumulates and is eventually discharged into the inlet, just about the time the salmon are making their move north. Hey, if there is that much “crap” around this town that it makes one smell like a turd, there is something seriously wrong with the dog crap patrol. And when that melt-away ends, we still have to contend with the dust, which has a constituent base made of “crap”, sounds just like the Ted, Don and MoanaLisa base. Hey, question for the day. This city seems to have a Federal building for just about everything, accept what department? The IRS! For years, the revenuers’ rented a space from the corruptest of corrupt bastards, Bill Allen. Did Ted have something to do with this? Like a strong-arm rental agreement? Anyway, there exists plenty of extra room down at the Federal Building, even for the IRS. And how come Don and MoanaLisa opt to rent space from a friend? Some guy named Peterson? That costs more money from the Treasury. Now, Ted has a constituent office at the big Federal building, but one must go through at least 3-lie detector gizmos before you can get to the office. I wonder if Ted has a back door? And maybe that is a requirement, the lie detector, so no wonder…Hey, it is really beginning to smell like “crap”, political crap. As the winds of no-change are coming this way, once again from Juneau as the budget is on the loose. More crap coming our way.

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