Just So Much Flotsam and Jetsam
This post, I shall be mostly using f-words.
Friday the fourf: a fair football-field full of folk for the fireworks, with no apparant plowmen in sight.
Saturday: fickle and fitful like the affections of a feckless feline cat.
Right, I’m fed up of that now.
Sunday: after Wimbledon was Wimblewon, one lazy, hazy, crazy day of summer ensued. We had a going away party for a
friend. The good thing about California is that you can party outside all day and night so your floors never get sticky or crumbed upon.
And it all just goes to show that the simple things are the best, cats are feckers, not all things go to show something.
With any luck, by next 4th of July I will be a citizen of these United States and so able to vote. By George (but not for him), I can’t wait to vote! I will roll up my sleeves and press my pencil extra hard on the ballot just to show how votey I am. I expect I’ll hum an Eagles classic or The Battle Hymn Of The Republic or maybe something by the Pollice because I’m all about the pertinent tunes, yo. Uh-huh, oh yeah.
Citizenhood probably won’t happen before November (the INS website estimates the process currently takes a speedy 426 days) but my piffling vote in national affairs wouldn’t have the slightest bit of effect anyway. I don’t live in a swing state and California will probably turn a cool shade of Obama blue just fine without my help – not that Obama is blue, People Who Haven’t Seen Him Before. America wouldn’t elect a Smurf to the highest office in the land. Not again.
I’ve been disenfranchised for so long now though that my constitutional prerogative is starting to wither from lack of use. I’m sure there’s a pill for that but I’d rather cure it the natural way with a *cough* well-hung Chad. Not being resident in Scotland for the past 11 years has rendered me ineligible to vote in both Scottish and British elections, and being a mere legal alien in the US has meant I haven’t been able to vote here either. Nobody in the whole wide world gives a toss what I think, in other words, except perhaps the Toyota customer survey people. That’s fine, but I still want my voice-that-nobody-cares-about to be heard! I’d rather be a persona non grata than a non persona grata.
But yet, but yet I am taxed. Then let the cry go up throughout the sitting-room, “No taxation without representation!” The pot-plants agree greenly but they don’t envy me, that’s just how they do everything.
But when I can vote I still won’t be happy because even the voteless me ponders long and hard over the issues and choices at hand and I know that there are people somewhere who will be voting on which of the spouses is most First-Lady-like or which candidate has the larger lifetime consumption of apple-pie. And some people won’t bother voting at all because they want to watch that show with that guy who does that thing. And I will be of the uppity opinion that what these people need is a jolly good murdering – I will be careful not to say that at my interview, of course, in case they deem me cruel and unnaturalizable.
Only, ssssshh! You won’t tell them, will you? Don’t tell them about the real me because then they will not let me join America but I’ll have to pay the membership fees all the same, and my children will grow up not having the example of their mother voting causing them to not vote and one day when they should be voting, they will decide to go to the beach instead and there they will meet unsuitable men called Stone and Troy whom their daddy and I will hate and we will therefore be forced to write our own daughters out of our wills in a scene of brandy and complex emotions, and then the ProbHub will die but the girls and I will be too stubborn even to make up at the funeral and then I will die all alone and smelly in a flat in Croydon and the neighbours will say I was always a quiet one and what will become of the cats, and whoever is doing Shirley McClean-type roles in the future will play me in the harrowing movie they will make of our lives because one of the unsuitable men at the beach turned out to be the spoilt son of someone big in corporate Hollywood, and I will not come out of it terribly well at all.
So you won’t, will you? Aah, great. Ta, petals, I knew I could count on you.
July 8th, 2008 at 5:50 pm
You can rely on me, I wouldn’t wish Croydon on anyone.
July 8th, 2008 at 8:55 pm
I was quite gobsmacked at the level of vote-apathy in the States. Years ago I was working with a bunch of Americans in Japan and we were discussing the coming-up election. I got them to do a show of hands as to who would be voting. Out of eight, only two. I gave them my, ‘You should, it’s your right yada-yada-yada-pass-the-nuts’ speech and one guy said, ‘Why should I? It’s not going to make any difference.’ I kept on arguing but basically they stopped listening after about my second sentence. Not interested. I found it bizarre, (the not-voting bit).
July 8th, 2008 at 10:16 pm
But Obama IS blue! The Irish, fear gorm = the Americanish, African-American. Though literally translated it means blue man*.
*I could explain the historical reasons for this but it’s time to feed the dog.
July 8th, 2008 at 11:09 pm
Will you get to vote for governor? I think you need to get to the bottom of the Arnie groping allegations before casting your ballot.
July 8th, 2008 at 11:52 pm
Eryl, I’ve only driven through it but it looks like it might be the sort of place that wicked old women die alone in their flats. (Or in their heels if they’re the Baby Jane types)
LaughyKate, Obama is he’s energizing US politics with a genuine sense of hope and integrity that hasn’t been felt for decades and at this point in time people are open and hungry to hear about the change he’ll make to politics as usual. People are really excited about him. Gas and food prices are hurting everyone and if a war didn’t bring people out to vote, their pocketbooks surely will.
Sneezy, so what’s fear dubh? Cheney, the draft dodger, would be fear buidhe.
Nanas, we’ve got Arnie till 2011 at which time I would not be surprised if my application were still “in the naturalisation process.” Maybe if I got some groping dirt on him he could expedite my case! Where’s my best magnifying glass? I’m off to hunt for groping clues.
July 9th, 2008 at 3:21 am
Jesus Sam, I could have written that post 3 years ago, before moving back to Ireland. Ok, not nearly as eloquently, but still. I had been out of Ireland almost 16 years and never been able to vote anywhere. It sucked. And like you said, they have no problem taxing you. Hell I would have been happy just having a say in who got to be the town drain commissioner! Heh. I never did go for the US citizenship, because I felt weird about denouncing Ireland in court. Now I’m back here and I might as well be a yank. I should have handed in the old green card too, but it expires next year anyway. So even though himself and the kids are yanks, when we go back I’ll have to start all over. Hindsight and all that. Stoopid.
July 9th, 2008 at 3:25 am
Fear dubh? Black-haired generally. Though in certain contexts it could be taken as black-hatted, black-coated etc.
The same applies to fear bu? – fair-haired not yellow man, as in Oriental or Cheney. And so on with red, white etc.
July 9th, 2008 at 4:08 am
Your secret is firmly safe with me. Voter ennui is rampant here too, can’t understand it.
July 9th, 2008 at 4:14 am
Excellent Sam but those green potted plant types can?t be relied on for impartial opinions; they?ll nod sagely pretending to be like the sage crowd, agree with you on everything and then turn their stems to the next sparkle.
I giggle and want to ask if Obama might be well hung too but don’t ask, and also don’t bet that he might be, cause he seems to have everything else going for him bar a functioning airplane! I’ve long ago become septic about all politicians, and for me its always a case of least worst, which btw Obama most definitely is. Sorry, don’t mean to rain on your parade.
I?ll vote for you if that?ll help.
July 9th, 2008 at 6:28 am
Actually Sam, you might want to check the laws. Many states and municipalities allow Permanent Legal Aliens to vote in local elections. Otherwise, we’ll welcome you aboard with open arms, a cold beer and a nice lei.
Cheers.
July 9th, 2008 at 8:19 am
When I lived in Ireland I did vote in the local elections…However, I was always worried I’d find out one fine day that I really wasn’t allowed to. They’d be a knock at the door and I’d open to the sight of many large Garda(i? plural)) holding back the press and keeping order with a bit of fisticuffs. The heads of the local political gangs would be screaming bloody murder and arguing with each other about how my lonely vote threw the election. (I won’t say to who…as people might laugh at me). But I luckily made it back to good old amerika without being found out! But why is it that not one of the politicians I’ve ever voted for here since I’ve reached the age of majority has ever won their election?
“The ineffectual Citizen”
July 9th, 2008 at 9:31 am
If the girls are being written out of the wills, how come you’re the one who’s going to end up stuck in Croydon?
You must have a really crap lawyer.
BTW, I don’t think you’ll need a magnifying to hunt for clues about Arnie – I think GB was giving you a big hint when he asked had you got to the bottom of it.
Just stand in front of him, in tight jeans.
July 9th, 2008 at 9:59 am
Let’s hear it for having the franchise, Sam!
Huzzah.
You’ll be answering polls next.
July 9th, 2008 at 12:28 pm
Deborah, the INS is a labyrinth, a labyrinth with mirrors and tentacled red-tape monsters in it. It’s the worst, most frustrating bureaucracy I’ve ever come across. I feel really sorry for those that have to try negotiating it without English as their first language.
Sneezy, our bui is buidhe because it’s not like Gaelic doesn’t have enough letters already, is it? Still, I reckon it’s an easier language to learn than English.
fmc, I knew you wouldn’t rat me out, toots! I haven’t the patience for people who are that contemptuous of their fellow countrymen that they will ignore politics because it’s “boring” or “it won’t make any difference to them anyway.” Buck your ideas up! I want to yell. Voting makes a hell of a lot more difference than just ranting off at the pub. It’s your duty as a member of a free democracy! Where’s your gumption? Are you just going to roll over the whole of your life? Grrrrr!
Sniffle, I really have a lot of hope for Obama. Just the novelty factor of speaking to the electorate like they’re adults is refreshing. Politicians running for national off on the left and the right haven’t done that in a long time. He’s not the Messiah, he’s a human and makes mistakes like the rst of us. The difference is he can admit to those mistakes and usually has an intelligent argument as to why he made them in the fist place. Bush is just stubborn and too proud and that’s dangerous in an idealogue like himself.
Rand, cheers, my friend! As far as California goes, I can’t vote I’m afraid. I just have to wait it out. There’s so much i love about America, the ideals it was founded upon and the can-do spirit of the people that i will be proud to become a citizen. It requires that I renounce my British citizenship, but happily the British don’t recognise the renunciation and i’ll still be British too, otherwise I might be more reluctant. I don’t think I’d give up my British nationality. It would feel too, too strange to do that.
Jeremy, the Prob Hub feels the same way. His guy hardly ever wins. He’s an Independent-leaning Republican who hates Bush and doesn’t recognise his party any longer. He’s not religious, he’s not a social conservative like McCain but he’s thoroughly disenchanted with the Democrats failure to win the last election which should have been a gimme. He’s a fiscal conservative who has no faith in government bureaucracy’s ability to get things done and is left feeling he has nowhere really to go.
Tinman, you’re assuming there will be a lot of inheritance at stake here.
But if it all comes to pass, after I’m denied citizenship, I expect I will probably spend their inheritance on gin and gigolos while trying to wave death off with my stick. Then when both the money and I am exhausted -and I’ll look upon it as a personal failure if it’s not – I will move to Croydon to await the scythe quietly.
Medbh, it is quite sad, but when the girls were really small and i didn’t know any adults out here I used to talk to all the telephone pollsters. They got tons of information and views on Tide and Nabisco products out of me. But then I found blogging! Huzzah indeed!
July 9th, 2008 at 8:42 pm
Sam,
Fear dubh was also used as an alias for the devil.Nothing to do with skin colour though…at least I hope not.
As a British subject (not a citizen) you are not required to give up anything.The INS know the score with the UK and didn’t even ask me to..even though I would have in a heartbeat.I have an Irish one too so the UK one is my ‘throw down’ piece.
Oh and you need never fear Croydon..I won’t stand for it.You shall join me in my lair somewhere in Carribean and we shall ease the sunset of our lives with rum.
July 9th, 2008 at 11:05 pm
voting is difficult. it’s rather like math. you know, those word problems where tom and bill are both traveling to denver on the same day but two different trains. if train a leaves billings, montana at precisely 3pm and train b leaves cleveland, ohio at the same time…which train is more likely to lose its caboose in a freak penny on the track incident.
yes…that’s what voting is like. but i enjoy it more than i ever did the maths.
July 10th, 2008 at 4:24 am
You got the fingerprints sorted then?
How many bucks did they set you back? And the guy said they were from a good christian mother of 2.5 from Montana, not a nineteen year-old crack ho with a rap sheet as Colin ‘pinochio’ Powell’s nose?
July 10th, 2008 at 5:07 am
Doh! …as long as…
And Dagenham I reckon, not Croydon.
July 10th, 2008 at 8:32 am
I get it all except the “smelly” part. Will you be smelly when you die? Are you a little bit smelly now? Awwwww.
Only kidding my almost American sistah!
Wasn’t Wimbledon gweat?!
July 10th, 2008 at 12:05 pm
Devin, and gin! Gin too! Sounds heavenly. So you have US, UK and Irish passports! I’d go with the Irish if I were you. US and UK passports aren’t all that welcome around the world at the mo.
Kara, “which train is more likely to lose its caboose in a freak penny on the track incident” Well, the one with the best-stocked dining-car, of course. Like, duh! I remember voting in the dim and distant past but mostly it was postal voting because, from voting age, I was away from home at uni and so outside our constituency whenever these elections took place. I want the thrill of making my mark on the day alongside millions of others.
Conan, nope, after 3 tries, they still couldn’t get all my fingers. They contact my local police station instead to see if I’m a person in good standing. ! This is a bit ridiculous because I might have fingerprints on record as a suspect in any state i’ve lived in before but they don’t check that. It cost $675.
Jali, I usually smell of whatever my children or I have spilt on me. And fabric conditioner. I do feel hygiene is very important though so I never skip on my bimonthly bath… Wimbledon was fab! One of the best men’s finals i have ever seen, and I was glad big sis held her crown in the ladies. Serena has plenty more time to do it.
July 10th, 2008 at 12:29 pm
Try merton/dot/gov/dot/uk, or aboutmyvote/dot/co/dot/uk, if you feel the need to keep ones hand in.
But in Gods name why Croydon.
July 10th, 2008 at 12:51 pm
Vincent, cheers. I’ll take a look. Croydon because, if I do things right, I won’t have the money left to live anywhere else and I fancy dying on my own in a place nobody knows me. Plus it’s urban enough that the neighbours won’t bother me much. And it’s suitably bleak for dying in. But I won’t be going out much anyway, being old and smelly. All I’ll need is a delivery boy to get my messages and gin, a few good books and high-speed internet access. I won’t even need to look out the window to notice the depressingness. Not the worst way to go in the world!
July 10th, 2008 at 1:06 pm
I spent me a few weeks living in Croydon once upon a time. Stranded myself with the heaviest bag in the world (It was the 80s, you emigrated with very heavy bags) only to be rescued by a doctor and his lovely wife, or was it a wife and her lovely doctor, who had watched me from their window for 45 minutes. But they came Probs, they came out. The youth and energy I had then – I would have loved to have met a wicked old smelly woman.
July 10th, 2008 at 1:12 pm
Oh I do feel I’ll be really quite wicked, Eolai. Really quite.
July 10th, 2008 at 5:41 pm
they get rubbed up the wrong way so easily
i was just swinging through to New Orleans for a couple of weeks over new years and they nearly didn’t let me in purely because i had a “FREE DAVID HICKS” badge on my bag…
July 10th, 2008 at 5:53 pm
If I lived in the States, I wouldn’t bother looking for a vote. Instead, I’d find out who the electoral college delegate is, and I’d make friends with him, and we’d go drinking together, maybe do some shooting and fishing, and eventually go out on the town together. Before you know it, he’d be voting for whatever Preznit I wanted.
Before you know it, instead of a single vote, I’d have 37,000,000 votes, and all for the price of a bottle of whiskey and a cheap digital camera.
July 10th, 2008 at 9:39 pm
finally got my US citizenship after much tribulation and lost paperwork and unhelpful civil servants (took 6 years). Bailed the USA shortly afterwards but still have to file a tax return every year. It’s the law!
July 11th, 2008 at 8:00 am
I may be getting confused here but is it not the norm for the off-spring to do the opposite to the parents? So won’t Croyden be avoided – or have I got it wrong? Not that you are convoluted or anything and even if you were your stuff is so delicious to read you’d be forgiven all. I’m glad voting is important to you after all the girls went through – we owe it to them.
July 11th, 2008 at 10:40 am
Kiki, New Orleans for New Year’s sounds like a blast. I’m afraid I had to Google David Hicks because he didn’t ring any immediate bells. I’d say, all said, he did it. But he got a bum deal, that’s for surely. Badly handled altogether.
Bock, ah you’re the man that votes that little bit bigger. Hmm, betimes I can carry off an effective schmoozing…I’ll look into it.
Quickroute, 6 years! Blimey! In truth, though, I’m not really that surprised. The red tape here has red tape, and that red-tape has a tape-worm that eats important documents they say they never got.
Pat, you’re right, people died. People die now in other parts of the world. The least we can do is pay attention. I shall be doing the dying in Croydon. My disinherited daughters and their spouses, Stone and Troy, will be living somewhere they won’t reveal to me. Somewhere more fabulous than Croydon. But I say, when it comes to dying, you can’t beat a neglected London borough.