Mountain Elegy

Please go home!

Of course, he is here. There is one posh mountain retreat close to my little town, and he is here. I hope he wore his costume from the Great Gatsby party the other he threw a few weeks ago. Former “hillbilly” gone batshit crazy ought to look a fool in the woods his administration refuses to steward.

Of course, the town folks were talking about the police officer on the motorcycle who was critically injured by another police officer while driving his vehicle. The roads into town were blocked for 3 hours while the motorcade brought the ole homeboy to fundraise.

Of course, the preacher brought it up during Sunday service, “Keep the officer in our prayers.” And we will. But why the hell did he need to come here? My bike is parked outside the church, and now I am going to ride mad. Damn him for spoiling my escape from all the “hims” out there playing around with the folks not invited to the mountain retreat or the Great Gatsby party.

WE ARE

The “farm” employees who earn an average of $17 an hour, while the guests pay an average of $1,100 a night.

The drivers who may not have insurance, [BBB], should his next motorcade to small town America result in another critical injury.

The people in the food lines provided by local churches. 14% of East Tennessee is economically distressed. At the “farm,” a wine and cheese tasting costs $325, which is 40% of the monthly 3 person family SNAP benefit.

The townspeople could use the estimated $300,000 a day for the motorcade to help fund the $6 million water improvement project.

I moved to a small new town when my old liberal small town lost its mind over the pandemic and shuttered its doors, creating a false dread in me that was unbearable. They shut down a million-dollar swim facility for 2 years! We have lived in our conservative town for 5 years. Other than the former “hillbilly” coming to town, politics has never undone me because in Townsend, TN, people typically come first. Love>Fear.

Of course, I’ll get over it. The thought of that smug, blue-eyed man dining at the posh farm, tasting his expensive scotch, rattles me. He went to a fancy place once when he was poor. “I remember once getting a Diet Coke at a fountain machine that didn’t have enough Diet Coke syrup. That’s exactly what this fancy place’s “sparkling” water tasted like. “Something’s wrong with this water,” I protested. [JB Vance, HillBilly Elegy.]

We know something’s wrong here, too, Mr. Vice President. Did you see the poverty through your tinted windows?. Did you see the mountains you refuse to fund?

Back before the dark energy captured him, the former hillbilly noted, “I might have to hold my nose and vote for Hillary Clinton” to avoid a trump victory. In this very red state, I know a few of us who were holding our noses last weekend. You stink JD- “Stink, Stank, Stunk!”