Ponders The Pond

The elections are over. What a letdown, eh? The air is out of the balloon. After a non-stop blitzkrieg for months, it's all over but the crying. There is a void. What are we gonna do now? I get the same feeling every Christmas.

There are presents to buy and wrap. Trips to grandma's house. Calls to place via Ma Bell. Itineraries to synchronize. Ads that bombard the senses. And decorations to display. And a sense of comaraderie with the human spirit. A full slate.

And then Christmas, er, the Holidays arrive [ December 25 ] and you open your presents, go see Grandma, and eat a big dinner. Normally high in [ bad ] cholesterol and fat/calories. And a "Hello, Ali." You wake up early. Take a nap after breakfast. And soon it's stick a fork in it time; it's done. And it won't roll around again for 365 days. 366 ( apologies to Leap Year ) every four years.

And it's 93 million miles to Earth. And 20 million miles to Mars, the red planet. Not sure how far it is to Uranus.

I once chronicled in a Yahoo post how as a kid we pronounced Uranus as "your anus." And then it became chic/fashionable to pronounce it as "yer a nus." But that didn't last long, and "your anus" is now back in vogue. Even Alex Trebek says "your anus." So who am I to quarrel with the Jeopardy host and others. "Your anus" works for me.

Unless you have acid reflux disease. Damn, I never knew so many people had such a malaise. Everybody I know has it. Thank goodness, there's Nexium. Hopefully, this remedy will not become contaminated, allah the flu shots. And to you unscrupulous trial lawyers: Frivilous law suits may imperil the victim's escape from pain/sorrow.

"Hey barristers. Leave those refluxsters alone." ( apologies to Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Stall, er, Wall )

I could go on and on, but today was Rowdy Kids Nite at Hell Whole, and the Pond is getting sleepy. We will have to delay our pontification on the resurrection of the draft ( see George W ) and how the 1965 Civil Rights Bill is up for renewal in 2007.

Sleepy, so sleepy.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. This concludes "Ponders the Pond" Volume II.