On my way home, I was stuck on Clarksville Pike in stand-still traffic for a half an hour. Then, it just cleared up. Whatever the problem was, there was no evidence left. No cops in cars doing paperwork. No shaken people standing around.
But I realized, as I was sitting there, that there was no good way to get over the river from where I was. Either I’d have to backtrack clear back to I-65 and get on the interstate or I’d have to go way over to Briley.
In my dreams, there’s a bridge on 40th Avenue, crossing the river to somehow hook up with County Hospital Road.
I figure, if there’s even the slightest chance that the AT&T thing was not a coincidence, I’m going to use my bloggy powers to suggest that bridge and put it out there in the ether.
Lord almighty, people, I am so short on time and yet, I didn’t want you to miss further evidence of the Tennessee Democratic Party eating its young.
Seriously, I don’t even know what to say. The number one rule of telling someone that, if they don’t get on board with your program, the next few years will be very miserable for them is to not put it in writing where everyone can see it–“Please reconsider your decison [sic] and vote for Chip. I believe that I can safely assure you that the College Democrats will be well served by your vote for the winner.”
But also, not to be a pedantic bitch, but, if you’re casting about for reasons why women aren’t that excited about the Democrats, look no further than the dick-waving fest this has become, from all the talk of who can most adeptly fly the biggest airplane to who is the prettiest to this “big boy politics” crap.
But, hey, if we succeed in alienating all of our young people, then we’re looking at Moses-length times in the wilderness. That should be fun. And by “fun” I mean terrible.
I have worried this was the case all week, but today I cannot deny it. The AT&T building has fixed their awesome noise. Now, instead of sounding like some metal dragon waking to scream into the first verse of “The Immigrant Song,” it makes a completely ordinary iron-horsey snorty noise and kicks on.
No, damn it, AT&T! That noise was awesome.
Fine, sure, you’re being respectful of your other neighbors, but what about this one?
And today would have been the perfect morning for dragon noises–with the fog struggling to rise out of the hills and the cold sparkle of frost on everything. The thought of an ancient fiery serpent curled on a pile of gold would have been a perfect capper to our walk.
Oh, and get this. Someone has thrown a cross out on the side of Lloyd, by the cow pasture. A small wooden cross about, I’m going to say three and a half feet tall, with a hole drilled in the top–some kind of decoration for sure. Just tossed onto the side of the road.
I should have taken a picture.