Turkey Day with Uncle Sam
I woke up Thursday morning ready to spend the day with family and friends, to give thanks for all the wonderful blessings in our lives. There is much to be thankful for, yet looking back I failed to thank Uncle Sam for his benevolence in making it possible for me to even exist for those 24 hours (although I don't remember inviting him).
As I do every day, I stumbled from my bed to the bathroom for my morning constitutional on a throne that is federally mandated (Energy Policy Act of 1992) to deliver no more than 1.6 gallons every time I pull the lever. I am thankful there was someone to determine that 1.6 gallons was the appropriate volume for the entire nation. They most likely knew that people in drought prone areas pay the exact same rate for water usage as people living around water resource-rich areas (like the Great Lakes) and thus have no market incentive to reduce their water usage on their own. These one-size-fits-all solutions are brilliant, no?
I jump into the shower and stand under a showerhead which is also regulated by the feds; if more than 2.5 gallons of water per minute comes out of that nozzle while I'm lathering up, I'm breaking a nearly 20 year old Department of Energy law (is that a felony or a misdemeanor?). Again, I pause to thank my wise rulers who make rinsing shampoo out of my hair more time consuming. They obviously know the amount of money the IRS lets me keep after they've taken their tribute is so small that my extra time rinsing is nearly worthless.
I get dressed in clothes made from cotton that is from Pakistan and cleared for import by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement department since the U.S. textile industry has been driven from my native land through various regulations, labor laws, edicts, tax codes and all the other business killing activities emanating from Washington D.C. Without the ICE blessing, I would have gone naked. Apparently the textile producers lobby didn't have a large enough bankroll or voting block to bribe a congressional committee or two to enact some competition killing restriction or tariff by the United States International Trade Commission that funnels cash back to the preferred industry and congressional reelection campaign funds. That industry was definitely not too big to fail. Who do I have to thank for deciding a mill workers job was less important than an auto workers job? And to top it off, I didn't notice the blue slacks I put on with the black socks and belt because I was waiting for those mercury filled, environment saving (who's bright idea was that?) soon to be the only 'legal' option for light bulbs to warm up and cast their cold, harsh light in my dark closet. I'm sure it was the Energy Independence and Security Act of 2007 that deserves my gratitude.
We pile the family into our DOT/NHTSA approved vehicle that has to get 22 miles per gallon due to CAFE mileage standards. I don't know if they calculate the milage with straight 89-octane gas; when I filled up last time the pump said that the fuel contains 10% ethanol by law and ethanol has less energy per molecule than straight gasoline. With the aggressive way I was driving to get to Grandpa's on time, I'm sure I was getting <22 mpg; is that another crime? Not yet I think. I do know that I'm paying for my gas so that by choosing to drive a gas guzzler aggressively, I'm being economically ignorant. At least that's my choice for now.
A choice that now seems to have been taken from me is the option to avoid the Transportation Security Administration sexual assaults and radiation emitters by driving over the holidays rather than flying; the TSA now claims the right to feel your wife's breasts and fondle your children at bus stops, train stations and highways across the Land of the Free. I guess that I should be thankful for the ever increasing police state since they are really just trying to protect my family. And in all reality I should thank those mouth-breathers in blue for giving me some additional perspective on this day; now I know how that turkey feels, getting strange hand shoved in unmentionable places, rubbed down (albeit without herb butter) and shoved in a device that cooks your flesh (or DNA) with microwaves and x-rays.
Pulling into the driveway, we see Dad has the deep fryer out and that beautiful bird is almost ready to take its 350 degree peanut oil bath. But hold on a minute Pops! Was that turkey processed in a USDA approved poultry facility?! Heaven forbid it was harvested on our own land and not inspected and declared safe to eat by our brave protectors on the front lines of food safety. And did you not hear about the Department of Homeland (in)Security's latest threat warning, color-coded Golden Brown (and delicious) warning the proles that there might be some inherent danger when you have a propane burner cranked to 'blowtorch' in close proximity to a couple gallons of hydrocarbon fuel that is one overflow away from a 16-inch diameter Roman candle? Unfortunately, I'm not joking. Praise be to the DHS for keeping the homeland safe from this massive national security threat.
Our meal is perfect with all the trimmings, including some delicious red wine that was approved for sale by BATFE, stuffing made with USDA approved ingredients and pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream made with genetically modified beet sugar (or was it government subsidized high fructose corn syrup?) since importing cane sugar is not cost effective due to import tariffs and a trade embargo with a huge cane sugar producer only 90 miles south of Florida. Thank you for Feds for 52 years of lost economic opportunities and colas that taste like crap.
After the meal we all sit down and turn on the TV to watch some FCC approved programming on EPA Energy Star rated televisions. This being Thanksgiving and all, we were served a healthy dose of sporting events that try to one-up the previous event by seeing who can unfurl the biggest American Flag, held by the most veterans, singing the loudest rendition of the National Anthem with flyovers of the most expensive tax-payer funded death dealing war planes that have yet to repel any attack on the U.S. homeland. The Department of Defense should get a little yellow flag thrown its way for the "piling on" the Army, Navy and Air Force commercials during these events. I guess I should be thankful that my tax dollars are being spent to convince me how thankful I should be for the U.S. military-industrial complex despite the fact that government failure day (9/11) was only a few short weeks ago.
The grumbling in my stomach alerts me that I just may have eaten a bit too much so I head to the medicine cabinet for some relief. As I reach for the tablets of colored and sweetened calcium carbonate I am reminded again that I should thank the FDA for assuring me that the naturally occurring mineral is safe to ingest. Pretty soon the FDA will really make me safe by requiring me to get a persrciption for any vitamin, mineral or supplement and that the manufacturers of these products will have to provide studies that their products are safe while pharmaceutical manufacturers are exempt; big-pharma is likely really thankful for the FDA.
Taking a handful or so more than the recommended number of tablets, I wondered how any Thanksgiving celebration was possible without Uncle Sam's protection. I know for sure that there are many more areas of my Turkey Day that were impacted by some alphabet government agency but these were just the first few that came to mind (can you think of more?).
Ending the day where it began I came to the conclusion that we enjoyed our Thanksgiving day not because of all the state agencies that are there to supposedly protect us from ourselves, but in spite of them. Every little seen and in most cases unseen intrusion into our daily lives by the state deprives us the life, liberty and freedom to pursue happiness we are guaranteed in this country. Sure, we can still eat our hormone-laced, solution enhanced, USDA approved turkey but the insistence that I cannot live my life without the nanny state watching over every little move I make doesn't quite sit well with me.
So I propose to deal with this monstrosity of a government in the same manner I'm about to dispatch the previous meal that doesn't seem to sit well with me either; muster the intestinal fortitude to expel it from our being, acknowledge the excessive condition that led to the problem, resolve to exercise self-control and personal responsibility in all that we do and most importantly, diligently persevere. Remember, just like with the low-flow toilets we're forced to use, thoroughly clearing the waste of the state from our lives may take a few flushes!
As I do every day, I stumbled from my bed to the bathroom for my morning constitutional on a throne that is federally mandated (Energy Policy Act of 1992) to deliver no more than 1.6 gallons every time I pull the lever. I am thankful there was someone to determine that 1.6 gallons was the appropriate volume for the entire nation. They most likely knew that people in drought prone areas pay the exact same rate for water usage as people living around water resource-rich areas (like the Great Lakes) and thus have no market incentive to reduce their water usage on their own. These one-size-fits-all solutions are brilliant, no?
I jump into the shower and stand under a showerhead which is also regulated by the feds; if more than 2.5 gallons of water per minute comes out of that nozzle while I'm lathering up, I'm breaking a nearly 20 year old Department of Energy law (is that a felony or a misdemeanor?). Again, I pause to thank my wise rulers who make rinsing shampoo out of my hair more time consuming. They obviously know the amount of money the IRS lets me keep after they've taken their tribute is so small that my extra time rinsing is nearly worthless.
I get dressed in clothes made from cotton that is from Pakistan and cleared for import by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement department since the U.S. textile industry has been driven from my native land through various regulations, labor laws, edicts, tax codes and all the other business killing activities emanating from Washington D.C. Without the ICE blessing, I would have gone naked. Apparently the textile producers lobby didn't have a large enough bankroll or voting block to bribe a congressional committee or two to enact some competition killing restriction or tariff by the United States International Trade Commission that funnels cash back to the preferred industry and congressional reelection campaign funds. That industry was definitely not too big to fail. Who do I have to thank for deciding a mill workers job was less important than an auto workers job? And to top it off, I didn't notice the blue slacks I put on with the black socks and belt because I was waiting for those mercury filled, environment saving (who's bright idea was that?) soon to be the only 'legal' option for light bulbs to warm up and cast their cold, harsh light in my dark closet. I'm sure it was the Energy Independence and Security Act of 2007 that deserves my gratitude.
We pile the family into our DOT/NHTSA approved vehicle that has to get 22 miles per gallon due to CAFE mileage standards. I don't know if they calculate the milage with straight 89-octane gas; when I filled up last time the pump said that the fuel contains 10% ethanol by law and ethanol has less energy per molecule than straight gasoline. With the aggressive way I was driving to get to Grandpa's on time, I'm sure I was getting <22 mpg; is that another crime? Not yet I think. I do know that I'm paying for my gas so that by choosing to drive a gas guzzler aggressively, I'm being economically ignorant. At least that's my choice for now.
A choice that now seems to have been taken from me is the option to avoid the Transportation Security Administration sexual assaults and radiation emitters by driving over the holidays rather than flying; the TSA now claims the right to feel your wife's breasts and fondle your children at bus stops, train stations and highways across the Land of the Free. I guess that I should be thankful for the ever increasing police state since they are really just trying to protect my family. And in all reality I should thank those mouth-breathers in blue for giving me some additional perspective on this day; now I know how that turkey feels, getting strange hand shoved in unmentionable places, rubbed down (albeit without herb butter) and shoved in a device that cooks your flesh (or DNA) with microwaves and x-rays.
Pulling into the driveway, we see Dad has the deep fryer out and that beautiful bird is almost ready to take its 350 degree peanut oil bath. But hold on a minute Pops! Was that turkey processed in a USDA approved poultry facility?! Heaven forbid it was harvested on our own land and not inspected and declared safe to eat by our brave protectors on the front lines of food safety. And did you not hear about the Department of Homeland (in)Security's latest threat warning, color-coded Golden Brown (and delicious) warning the proles that there might be some inherent danger when you have a propane burner cranked to 'blowtorch' in close proximity to a couple gallons of hydrocarbon fuel that is one overflow away from a 16-inch diameter Roman candle? Unfortunately, I'm not joking. Praise be to the DHS for keeping the homeland safe from this massive national security threat.
Our meal is perfect with all the trimmings, including some delicious red wine that was approved for sale by BATFE, stuffing made with USDA approved ingredients and pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream made with genetically modified beet sugar (or was it government subsidized high fructose corn syrup?) since importing cane sugar is not cost effective due to import tariffs and a trade embargo with a huge cane sugar producer only 90 miles south of Florida. Thank you for Feds for 52 years of lost economic opportunities and colas that taste like crap.
After the meal we all sit down and turn on the TV to watch some FCC approved programming on EPA Energy Star rated televisions. This being Thanksgiving and all, we were served a healthy dose of sporting events that try to one-up the previous event by seeing who can unfurl the biggest American Flag, held by the most veterans, singing the loudest rendition of the National Anthem with flyovers of the most expensive tax-payer funded death dealing war planes that have yet to repel any attack on the U.S. homeland. The Department of Defense should get a little yellow flag thrown its way for the "piling on" the Army, Navy and Air Force commercials during these events. I guess I should be thankful that my tax dollars are being spent to convince me how thankful I should be for the U.S. military-industrial complex despite the fact that government failure day (9/11) was only a few short weeks ago.
The grumbling in my stomach alerts me that I just may have eaten a bit too much so I head to the medicine cabinet for some relief. As I reach for the tablets of colored and sweetened calcium carbonate I am reminded again that I should thank the FDA for assuring me that the naturally occurring mineral is safe to ingest. Pretty soon the FDA will really make me safe by requiring me to get a persrciption for any vitamin, mineral or supplement and that the manufacturers of these products will have to provide studies that their products are safe while pharmaceutical manufacturers are exempt; big-pharma is likely really thankful for the FDA.
Taking a handful or so more than the recommended number of tablets, I wondered how any Thanksgiving celebration was possible without Uncle Sam's protection. I know for sure that there are many more areas of my Turkey Day that were impacted by some alphabet government agency but these were just the first few that came to mind (can you think of more?).
Ending the day where it began I came to the conclusion that we enjoyed our Thanksgiving day not because of all the state agencies that are there to supposedly protect us from ourselves, but in spite of them. Every little seen and in most cases unseen intrusion into our daily lives by the state deprives us the life, liberty and freedom to pursue happiness we are guaranteed in this country. Sure, we can still eat our hormone-laced, solution enhanced, USDA approved turkey but the insistence that I cannot live my life without the nanny state watching over every little move I make doesn't quite sit well with me.
So I propose to deal with this monstrosity of a government in the same manner I'm about to dispatch the previous meal that doesn't seem to sit well with me either; muster the intestinal fortitude to expel it from our being, acknowledge the excessive condition that led to the problem, resolve to exercise self-control and personal responsibility in all that we do and most importantly, diligently persevere. Remember, just like with the low-flow toilets we're forced to use, thoroughly clearing the waste of the state from our lives may take a few flushes!
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