RULES, UGH

It is with a modicum of trepidation that I undertake to write this blog.  (I’m using bigger words so that I sound more like a “riter”).  I feel like I need to explain myself at this point to those who may have been offended by what I have written and, to the rest of you, who will be offended by what I will write in the future.

You see it has been explained to me, by more than a few sources, that there are certain rules that must be followed by any author doing a blog.  I’ll go over the rules in a minute, but first off, never, ever, ever tell me that something is a rule and then expect me to follow it.  It is kind of like telling Hans Solo the odds.  You don’t do it unless you expect him to try and defy those odds.  You don’t do it unless you are some type of shiny uptight robot who walks around as if it had a six foot 2x4 stuck; well, there you go, I almost broke a rule again.

It’s not that I can’t follow a rule.  It’s just that I won’t.  I have been a trial attorney for almost twenty-five years, (and in that time I have come to really, really dislike judges for the anal attention they give to meaningless rules), but I have been disregarding rules for well over fifty years.  My wife has learned to come to grips with it; (bless her saint-like heart) the rest of the world can too.

I kind of sing my own version of the War song, by WAR.  You know, “Rules, ugh, what are they good for?”  Or my own take on one of the most famous movie lines ever: “We don’t need no stinkin’ rules.”  (I do speak Spanish, but have a lousy Mexican accent.)

So, when I’m told to never, when writing this blog, use profanity, or comment on politics or social issues, then it is a given that sooner or later that is exactly what I will do.  Now wait, don’t explain to me the purpose of these rules.  I clearly understand the purpose, and I accept the underlying reasoning as well.  I don’t have a single argument as to why these rules are wrong or a good reason as to why I’m going to break them.  It is just a given that I am going to break them.  It is what I do.

I don’t have a reason for this psychotic like anti-social behavior.  I can’t explain it.  Perhaps one or two of my children can make a comment that will help.  Or perhaps this could be forwarded to one of my former scouts, (Andrew Wheeler, Connor Brandt, where are you?) who witnessed this behavior up close when I was their scoutmaster.  One of them might have some insight that would help.

And yet again, what does it really matter?  It is what it is.  I doubt that peeking inside my skull is going to help.  And with the major party political conventions upon us, I know the temptation will be too great.  There are too many stupid people who are going to say too many stupid things.  How can I refrain from commentary?

I could apologize in advance for making an offensive remark.  I could, if I cared.  The best I can do is say: if you are offended, get over it.  I’m really not worth the emotional energy.

No one is.