The Race Is On.

It is an exciting time to be an American. With the presidential election cycle approaching it is time to stock up on snacks, and drinks, and mud proof clothing. It will be several glorious months learning the best and worst of the presidential hopefuls. It will be an enlightening and terrifying, and glorious, and horrible, and we will be glued to the coverage. Unable to look away, unable to avert our gaze, unable to forget the images of our potential leader absolutely trashing each other.

Where else will you get to find out the "values" of our society, spelled out in graphic detail. One, shining, bright example of  patriotism and wholesomeness exposing the wretched, filth, and corruption in others.  It is like Captain America telling voters about Satan. Except Satan would never lower himself to run for office in America, it is too base, and deceitful.

There is a lot to be learned from presidential hopefuls, but most of it is very difficult to believe. Who could believe that there were so many people, so corrupt, so incompetent, in the higher reaches of government? It is important to remember, when you are losing all faith in elected officials, that they are pulled from the general public, that they are just us. So, there it is, scattered all over the television, America's dirty laundry aired for all to see. Sixty second glimpses into the state of America, bought to you, at great expense, by other Americans.  Americans who are trying to help you decide between candidates, who start to sound remarkably similar.

Candidates raise enormous, obscene amounts of money, most of the money will be spent on losing, it is a sad truth, that only one person can win the election. We need to make it more fair, similar to youth sports where every participant gets a trophy.  Otherwise all of that money, impossibly huge sums of money, piles of money that are ridiculously huge, laughable in size and scope, for all but one candidate will be wasted.  Which is sad.  I am not going to try to tell you how much money it is, it is beyond the scope of my simple mind.

But, it is not only the money involved. Think of all the poor volunteers, and supporters. All of the time, and passion, and faith wasted. Sometimes these poor people have switched candidates two or three or more times. Their first choice drops out after South Carolina, and they hitch the cart to some blazing hot property storming through Texas, Tennessee, and Colorado.  But, red hot politicos can fizzle out under the intense scrutiny of a multi candidate debate.  A smiling face imposed over a waving flag makes for a good commercial but won't save a wilting performance while being called out on immigration issues.

These poor people are stuck backing one loser after another, and it makes for a poor election night result.  Finding out your third or fourth choice is not good enough, one more disappoint in a string of election cycle heartache.

Now imagine if everybody who raised a hideous pile of coin, so big as to be unimaginable, a crushing, terrible amount of cash, where allowed a turn at being president.  Of course they would need to pass certain requirements, and would have no more power than the average president.  And, instead of spending all of that money campaigning they would have to donate it to all a good charity, like the US economy.  But, everybody could  be happy, for a while, the country goes on down the path to the next election cycle.

Donate to your favorite candidate, he has a real chance this time, they all have a real chance.

The Awning of a New Day.

Today we are going to attempt to predict the future, the near future, this summer, in general, our vacation plans this summer, in particular. We are going to visit Pukwana South Dakota (and points west, and some points east, and maybe even a point south). The home of the Puk U Bar and Grille and Lawn Mower Race Arena. It is a delightful place, owned by my cousin Marcie, a hard working entrepreneur who has managed to carve out a successful business in the windswept, indifferent plains of Central South Dakota.

Here is the Puk U, the awning is new, at least this is the first time I've seen it.

Those who know me, understand my long, comfortable relationship with cold beer and Kentucky bourbon, (and Tennessee sour mash, and rye from a small distillery in Iowa) and the Puk U has both in generous supply. Though, finding a Puk U t-shirt in the appropriate size is difficult, they are a very hot commodity, still, I have not given up. There is also a wonderful menu, featuring many local favorites, all prepared to order (if the grill is on) and served with cold beer.

But, the real draw is the lawn mower races. People take small, riding lawn mowers and modify them using mechanical prowess, Midwest ingenuity,  and the burning desire to take something designed to be a functional and only slightly dangerous, and turn it into something fast, fun and much more dangerous. It is human nature.  These modified mowers travel at... they go...  reach speeds of... well I don't know how fast they go, but they really go, rocketing around an oval track at speeds approaching way faster than a person should be driving a lawn mower. Which makes for a wonderful spectator sport.

Of course, no true spectator sport is complete without a little action on the side.   Lawn mower races provide this through the process of auctioning racers.  You bid on the drivers, and if they win you get a portion of the prize money, which comes from the auction itself, almost a zen koan, the gambler waging on his \ her own ability to pick the right racer on which to wager.  You see, this is culturally enlightening as well as exciting.

An actual, professional auctioneer is employed to expedite this process. There is something hypnotic, mesmerizing in the cadence of an auctioneer's call. After sitting through the first several racers the siren's song won, it was addictive, and I was powerless to resist,  and had to bid, finally managing to win. Naturally, since I had won the right to root for the racer and would get a part of his winnings, the poor guy never stood a chance. His lawn mower, recognizing the curse that I routinely bestow on various sports teams, actually gave up and stopped without finishing a whole lap. Curses can be funny things, who knew they understood the workings of the internal combustion engine.

But, never quit, that's my motto, (unlike certain lawn mowers) and I am going back this summer. I have been working on my ability to exude a winning demeanor to machinery (mostly by talking to cars in parking lots) and plan on watching my racer cross the finish line, that would be a victory, at least for me.

If you happen to be driving across South Dakota on I90 and see the sign for Pukwana, stop in, find  the Puk U, it is not difficult to locate, it is right next to the race track, and very near to the Fire Station, I think, have a beer, and a shot of bourbon, a good meal (if the grill is on) and leave a very generous tip.  We are talking about family here.

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