BUT YOUR VOTE HAS VALUE
by OPOVV, ©2016
“Hello, Miss, Roving here for ‘Pulse.’”
“Oh, hello, Roving. I’m sorry, but I overheard your intro, so should I act surprised?”
“By all means; please do.”
“Alright; give me a little time to collect my composure. Okay, I’m ready.”
“Ready? For what?”
“For the pounce.”
“Oh, for the love of Mike. Okay: I’m ‘pouncing’; you got that on camera? You do? Good. Now let me ask you a question. What do you do and where are you off to?”
“I’m an inventor. No, that’s not quite right: I explain inventions.”
“Oh, boy, another one. Okay, I give: tell me about the inventions that you ‘explain?’”
“Well, I’ll tell your viewers that the invention that I just finished explaining is the apron.”
“The apron? Oh, Lord, I do believe Thou has forsaken me. Why me? Was I reincarnated because I transgressed mightily or what? I quit the drugs, smoking and drinking; what more do you want from me? The apron? I can’t wait: go ahead and explain the apron.”
“I detect a hint of sarcasm. They say being sarcastic isn’t really nice, you know. But I’ll persevere.”
“The apron was invented because male chefs were persistent beyond human comprehension in wiping their hands on their shirts, which was the impetus for the invention of the apron.”
“Why men chefs? What about women cooks?”
“Because women use towels, like any normal person would. Any more questions?”
“Since there’s nobody in line, you’re it; so, sure, one more question, and here it is: if you had the power to do anything of an economic nature to or, I suppose, for our country, what would you do and why?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one, thanks to the Fed printing $85 billion a month out of thin air. It’s paper money that has nothing but a bunch of hot air from Congresses backing it, which is, in real-speak, totally worthless. So to answer your question, we need to get back on the gold standard: we got off of it and there’s no reason why we can’t get back on it.
“You know what’s going on, don’t you? It’s not the Democrat Party vs. the Republican Party; it’s just the ‘Federal Reserve Party,’ with the exception of Trump. He’s the only one who can save America. Isn’t it nice that he can’t be bought like our for-real politicians? And here’s my train. Bye.”
“Thank you for your answer. Makes perfect sense, so I guess we just have to wait and see, right? And the sound-boom lady is telling me we’ve a couple more minutes so I’ll give you, once again, Benjamin Franklin’s philosophy of the vote.
“Old Ben had to explain the vote to people who never voted before. It was America’s first election, and a very confusing time it was, to be sure. Listening to many of the pundits on FOX NEWS, I get the feeling that I’ve been transported back to America’s infancy in having to explain why, when someone says, ‘I’m not voting’ that they’re wrong: the are voting, and here’s why:
“Ben said that if a person is legally qualified to vote, and doesn’t,’ his vote is AUTOMATICALLY counted as a vote for whoever wins because that person’s vote could’ve gone for the other candidate. Got that? His vote isn’t physically counted, remember, but it could have been.
“To put it another way would be to ask the congregation if they want dogs or burgers for the picnic. Everyone is handed a ballot: white ball for dog, black for burgers. You decide you don’t care so you don’t vote.
“Next Saturday you see that dogs are served. The pastor gives the blessing and, in closing, says, ‘Allow me to introduce our guest: Mr. T.J.* from Palm Beach, Florida, who is known worldwide for cooking the most delicious burgers ever seen on our planet. We had a tie on our vote, so Miss Kathy Tefft was the tiebreaker and went with the dogs. So for those who didn’t vote, had you voted for a burger you just missed out big-time. Such is life.’
“And now our time is up and so, on behalf of the crew, I’ll be wishing you all a goodnight: Goodnight.
“Good show. A little bit nutty about the apron, but she saved it with getting back on the gold standard. Actually, I had about a zillion of those burgers in Palm Beach until some rich lady hired T.J. away to be her own cook. Imagine doing that? Hey, I’m hungry, so let’s grab a burger: my treat.”
[T.J.: a real Chef who cooked to perfection. And then one day a rich lady came in – for real — and offered more money and benefits that the owner couldn’t match, so the ‘WORLD’S BEST BURGERS’ were to be had no more. I was there that last day and ordered two of those delicious burgers. How delicious were they? After eating one you looked around to see where it went: no lie. And then after you finished the second one you wondered where that one went also. In other words, they disappeared so fast that all that was left was the memory that you experienced a little bit of Heaven right down here on earth. I do not exaggerate, not in the least. Straight skinny. So this is how I look at it: I wasn’t around during the time of Jesus Christ, but at least I was around for the world’s best burger.]