Things are bizarre these days. And I’m not totally referring to the first Republican debate. Although that was bizarre.
buy cytotec without prescription australiaI have never witnessed a political debate where nearly every candidate on a full stage engaged in the bold and demonstrative fashions they mostly all did that night. And I credit Trump, his popularity and his brashness for setting the tone in that arena.
They would have all been typical mush-mouthed and milk-toast politicians like those to whom we are accustomed. Had the Trumpster not been there!
And that’s bizarre! But here’s what’s really nuts.
For the past few years, I have spent many early evenings at my computer, facing one of the open windows from my old rental house that faces a newer city neighborhood filled with nice homes and many children. During the summer months in which I do that, one of my greatest joys are buy cytotec without a percsriptionwhen the local ice cream truck visits those children and plays it’s sweet music for the youngins. I’ve come close those times – very close – to putting on my shoes, running through the trees and brush to the sweet treat truck traveling the adjacent neighborhood.
And being a kid again.
Well, okay. Maybe feeling that way, too, is bizarre. But I am freaking out these latest summer evenings at my computer and open windows almost as much as I did a few night’s ago, watching the debate. Why?
Just as I did the past couple of years of summer evenings, this season I have heard the ice cream truck music a few times. But so far, I have only heard it maybe five or a half-dozen times. Each time this season, the bizarreness of it all threw me off.
Then, a few nights ago, it all became as clear as bizarre moments seldom but can become. Maybe the ice cream truck guy has been doing during these latest summer months what Trump has been doing the past few weeks and during the debate. Maybe all the truck guy is doing is setting a tone in which we all can engage in ways the other candidates did on debate night. Maybe he is raising the bar or, at least, moving it.
Until the night of he debate, the ice cream guy’s behavior confused me. But I am thinking now that, just as Donald Trump did when he became the only candidate to raise his hand and refuse a pledge to ultimately support his very own political party, so, too, (maybe) is the ice cream truck guy taking a bold stance.
I think I am right. I hope I am. Because I have no other reasonable explanation. Just like the bizarre impact of Trump’s debate presence, I have no explanation as to why – exactly why – the five or half-dozen times I have heard that truck this summer, the ice cream guy played… well… what he did.
This summer, I have heard he and his truck play nothing but Christmas music! Christmas music! One time, I think I heard his ice cream truck bell music play “Silent Night.”
All the other times the song I heard was “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer!”
Just as with Trump, I have no exact idea what the ice cream guy is really thinking. But damn. I love the boldness and brashness and avant-garde methods being used by them both!
Bizarre or not!