YES, Eugene Oregon has done it, at last!– I read in the newspaper that morning, while I have coffee. There it is, in black and white headlines, “time to bag it”,Eugene shoppers must give up their plastic habit.” (which is today. the first day of paper) And then it relates that all merchants will be prohibited from giving customers plastic bags, at grocery stores and other retail outlets. Almost EVERY PLACE.
if you didn’t get that wonderful news, let me explain it to you; Eugene Oregon, as the very center of green and organic living, has banned all plastic bags, when you go to the grocery store, OR, other retail outlets.
Which means, stores ranging from mom-and-pop corner markets, and independent bookstores, two national big-box chains, will not be able to give you plastic bags to put your junk in. Which you have just bought. http://
EVERYTHING that is seen as a “plastic bag”, no matter what it is or what it is for, is banned in Eugene Oregon from being sold or given to you when you buy some junk. ANY junk. Expensive junk, liquor stores, that includes just about everything in hell.
I look out the window, at the morning fog; another great day of overcast skies and lack of sunshine. I better take extra vitamin D. We get the same weather as Alaska, so we follow their healthcare regulations also. That includes “winter sun box lighting”, which is a chemical form of sunlight, but we have to have here to avoid getting severely depressed.
Okay, let’s face it we get severely depressed anyhow; after all, we are stuck in Eugene Oregon.if the traffic doesn’t get you, the overcast skies will, or the lack of oxygen from the smog, or the wonderful enthusiasm of organic and green living..– while we have the extreme smog from cars,the horribly dark clothing, and the intense interest in boutique beer and ale. After all, it is the state hobby.
But now all those beer and wine and liquor drinkers won’t be able to use any kind of plastic bags to carry to their cars. (After they get in a car, they won’t need the plastic bags, or even the bottles anymore.) I just remembered, I have to go grocery shopping today. GROAN!
as I hurry out the door, in my muck–lucks, my sturdy raincoat, carrying my nylon purse, and having stuffed my large purse with several very heavy large and dirty canvas bags, I remember that this is the start of “evil plastic be gone” festival day, at the start of “the bag less town”, I decide that this is really a celebration of greenness and organic living.
I can hardly retain my joy, as I climb into my plastic lined, VW bus XML, with the extra wheels in the back, from a 1942 power chair (it was way ahead of its time) and listen to the humming engine that is powered by soy bean oil and ground-up chicken gizzards,and I realize that I am a very important human being, in the chain of events. .
getting out on the freeway, on to the main highway, that passes what used to be called “Lane County mental health department”, and is now a large building for confiscating all public firearms, guns, hatchets, sharp knives, revolvers, electric alarm clocks, and all the very dangerous weapons that pertain to firearms, that the new laws have enacted to be also banned.that is, there is lots of laws against them.
(How the chefs and cooks are getting along without any kind of sharp knives, is beyond my puny brainpower.all I know is, I hope they have very sharp fingernails. And clean ones.)
far head, I can see the intersection where several roads meet, several highways, and the intersection within a matter of 12 feet, with 2 inches separating each car, and which is the major source of tremendous highway accidents that we have here, about once or twice a day.
the police and the Highway Patrol are so used to these accidents twice a day, that they have a regular cleanup crew, and surgery patrol along with a very expensive ambulance Corps. Anyhow, no expense is ever too much, for the highway department; these highways and roads that cover every shred of land now, are the main turnstiles of fortune – – ,
So I very carefully inch by the latest three-car pileup, and the sight of blood, and dead bodies mangled along with steel and glass.I hope my car hasn’t grazed any of the blood this time, it’s so hard to get off the fender.
I just HATE THAT!there’s nothing more demoralizing in the morning, then a bloody fender .especially since I didn’t do anything, except drive by.
it’s probably not the fault of the highway department and the local Eugene and County planning Department, which managed to intersect four different lanes mingling within about two or 3 feet, on the belt line Freeway.,
After all, how are they to know that there would actually be CARS and TRUCKS speeding along it, every morning and evening, trying to get to work really fast, and doing incredible feats of gymnastics and pyrotechnics, to change lanes within two or 3 feet of highway?.
Oh well, they must know what they’re doing, they got all the money to build this junk, I mean highway. It’s not like I could do it – after all, they went to engineering school. Mechanical training, and probably some hieroglyphics interpretation and minor dental training. (I think I read that that includes hygienics of cleaning teeth, twice a year) so who am I to judge?,
I just wish there wasn’ t so much blood and shattered glass all over the belt line Freeway, about twice a day. I bet that gets expensive.
Anyhow, my car is small enough,it looks more like a mangled tomato bush, trying to avoid very large green tomato worms.which is funny, because you definitely can’t grow tomatoes here; not enough sun. Anyhow, I am through the gauntlet, and I see my exit ahead of me.,
AHA! I am through the gap, and my target is in sight. There is the looming façade of the gaily decorated “Win –Co” supermarket. It never closes, it never opens, it’s open 24 hours a day, as long as it doesn’t run out of cheap, hoary food.- the main-stay of the Oregon Low-money.
As I close in to my goal, I try to avoid all the other careening SUV’s, Prius, diesels, pickup trucks, VW buses smeared with flowers and peace signs in paint,and speeding Lexus, who are all going after cheap food, (which has become fantastically expensive, even for the owners of Lexus)and are not going to give an inch off the parking lot for anyone. Particularly not ME.
In this land of poor people,if you look single, non-well-financed, and in a strange old used car that’s barely legal, you only get other nice-looking and decent Christian community oriented cars avoiding you.(I guess I should’ve taken my Mercedes-Benz this morning, if I wanted to be sociable.) I guess that’s the price of letting all those outsiders from California, storm in here, and bring all their dumb cars with them.I think I even cited a Lamborghini once, that had been imported from San Diego.
so if they’re so rich, why are they coming to Oregon?Northern California is a bastion of rich people. However, last time I saw it, it was also bastion of thousands of illegal migrant workers, coming over the borders from Los Angeles, taking over the highways every morning, looking for work; and inviting all the prostitutes from the bad area, to migrate over there….
.maybe that had something to do with it. Besides, I remembered how many household apartment full of non-English speaking people, who had descended around us, jabbering in Spanish, Arabic, tagalog, and what all, pushing out all the English-speaking inhabitants. Yes, that definitely had something to do with it.
I wondered if they had pickled herring this morning; then I remembered, that was 10 years ago I had pickled herring, and it wasn’t in Oregon. In fact, I don’t think they know what pickled herring is here! Well it doesn’t matter I gave it up for being too nongreen and nonorganic, and not vegetarian healthy enough. When you live in Oregon, you do as the non-natives do.
As I locked my car door, I noticed that the overhead thick and heavily darkened sky was getting ready to split; I had neglected to read the weather report. Why? Doesn’t matter what the weather is, it’s always going to be BAD.so just take heavy armor with you when you go outside.,
There were several tables lined up outside, on each side of the sliding, automated doors,, and they made me very curious. What was somebody peddling today, in the name of politics? Something I didn’t know about?
Hey, I probably knew just about every single peccadillo, that this stupid town had. Anyway, I was curious; I sauntered over to the one on the right side, it was covered with handbills and had some long-haired flunky presiding over the table.the handbills said “encourage the governor and legislature, to go ahead and ban the death penalty in Oregon!”
yes, I had noticed that in the newspaper, but the very important issue of banning plastic bags in Eugene and this county, had taken everyone’s notice. We didn’t have time for minor stuff like that.
But there it was, seeking my approval, but not really needing it, because they were passing the ban against the death penalty in Oregon anyhow; they weren’t going to let us vote on it, we knew, they were just going to pass it because they wanted it.somehow, that just didn’t seem fair.
Along with the fact that they were also banning a major amount of rifles and firearms, at the same time, it was really too much for me to fathom and try to absorb all at the same time.
there just seem to be too much “banning this” and en acting that” and “passing a bill against this,” “passing a bill in favor of this”, it was taking a huge amount of millions of dollars, to do all this banning and passing; and our County and town didn’t even have a jail!
I noticed that one of the side bills, that they were pushing, (although the Legislature would pass it anyway so why were they asking us?) Was on” banning canvas colored shorts in summer, for children below the age of five”. (???).,
WOW! I had never thought of that before! What genius came up with that idea? Maybe it was a Taiwanese children’s clothing manufacture, who had decided that “what was good for China, was also good for Eugene”.
after all, the politics of Eugene Oregon greatly coincided with the politics of the greater red China, whose peaceful and democratic way of life, not to mention socialism, was reputed to be something that we should emulate, and venerate, as the Chinese did.
of course, we didn’t have to kill all our female babies, by leaving them out in freezing winter, overnight, to get rid of them, like they did. And I guess we could skip all the mass burning of protesting students, because that would greatly offend probably, the University of Oregon students, who might feel that it just didn’t look good.or smell good. Pew!
so I asked the proprietor of the “encourage a ban against the death penalty in Oregon” table, “Sir, you are doing all this passing bills, and legislating, and encouraging more legislating; can you tell me who is paying for all of this? It must be costing millions of dollars.” He looked at me, through very long and dirty hair.( But, I assume he was a nice guy anyway.)
“well,” he said with a peaceful and loving and caring smile, “the Oregon state government is paying for all of it.” I returned, with “doesn’t that mean that all of we taxpayers are paying millions of dollars for it? And we don’t even get to vote on it? The governor is going to decide to pass it himself? And we are all paying for his legislating. Why doesn’t he pay for it himself, if it’s so important to him?”
the sweet and peaceful furry haired character, looked at me with a blank stare. “Uh… Well he’s not a rich guy. He’s only a governor, and I guess the Democratic Party of Oregon, is not a rich party either.” I answered, “yes, I’ve noticed all the Democratic politicians in Salem, wearing Armani jackets, Tom Ford suits, and Chanel men’s toiletries in the legislature, so I don’t think they’re short of spare change. Are they?”
I looked down at my worn and desecrated Reeboks. I was one of the taxpayers , paying for the governors choice of legislature, and here he was wearing Armani and I was stuck in worn out Reeboks.but then, why didn’t I have a say, in whether we had a death penalty in Oregon or not? who was making him dictator of the hay mound nowadays?!
The blank stare became even blanker,, but the furry haired peaceful loving little nebbish, tried to answer me. “Well, “he intoned, cautiously” he IS the governor! He’s the governor of the state! He gets to make those decisions! He gets to decide life or death! He’s a doctor, and he’s much more–uh– certified, to say that even the worst murderer shouldn’t get killed himself! It’s just too cruel!!
“I mean, some of these guys don’t mean to dismember little girls, they just can’t help themselves! You know how it is. When you have a temper tantrum, it’s kind of hard to turn it off. Gosh, everybody has a little fight once in a while.”but, usually not bad enough to slice up a little girl, or, in the case of that mother from Lane County, starve her daughter to death.
We had a particular brand of murderers in this state, who like to pick on the most vulnerable and helpless victims;Gee, every summer some pedophile would run down back roads, knocking little girls off bicycles, and kidnapping them. It wasn’t like we had a lack of sick bastards. They like coming here, because there were all the families with little kids. Isn’t it great to have outsiders happily enjoying your state?
They also like coming here, because our justice system here,slapped every single criminal on the hand, and let him go. If you were a victim, you had to move far away and change your name.you’d think you were in the middle of downtown Los Angeles in the ghetto, but I guess that’s kind of how you spell “EUGENE”.
I for sure was not going to encourage the governor to pass the repeal of the death penalty in Oregon.and I told his little nebbish dirty haired little pygmy exactly that; and, since it was the governors wish and delight, to let off all the murderers and child killers, and all the guys who got drunk and wiped out a whole family on the freeway every Friday, why shouldnt he pay all the millions of dollars to legislate it?
The pygmy didn’t like my unpeaceful and non-organic, nongreen reaction. He didn’t like it at all. Thank God.in fact, he tried to spit at me, but I saw him coming, and I clobbered him and his dirty head, with my extra heavy satchel, purse, that I had loaded with a couple of concrete blocks every Saturday, just for exercise and fun.
Oh, and also to ward off the rapists they kept letting out of the jail.
after that little skirmish,greatly refreshed and enlightened with the freshness of the morning, I headed for the overcrowded supermarket sliding doorway, but I almost ignored the other table on the other side of the doors. Wonder what they were doing?
it was inevitable; that table was all fired and ready, and activated, with the fury of the anti-firearms crowd. They were all geared up, enthusiastic and militaristic, all ready to encourage all of we grocery lovers to get rid of our firearms, and peacefully negotiate rapists and burglars, instead of taking out a gun and shooting their heads off for invading our privacy.– and, for robbing us blind and trying to murder us.
“lady, we’re asking you,” this one enthusiastically countered me, as I picked over a handbill” do you want to stop the murder of innocent school children, that’s been going on by hideous firearms, gun, and mentally ill retards? The only way to do that, get rid of firearms completely! Put real solid and useful gun legislation against them, so we have a really great world, and really safe children again!”
The rest of his party, started clapping and yelling, and applauding him. Yes, it was a great speech. It just was a bunch of bull shit.he continued to rant and rave, saying that all these gun shows were illegally selling criminals firearms, and they needed to have extra heavy duty gun laws to prevent this.
APPLAUD! APPLAUD! MORE CLAPPING! Patting each other on the shoulders and hugging each other, with peaceful demeanor (and with more than a little sexual enthusiasm). After all, they were still young.and nobody had burglarized them yet. Maybe they lived out of Eugene and out of this county.
I just didn’t have the time, to argue with anymore superduper peaceful loving over advantaged graduates from Berkeley, the University of Oregon, various liberal and high-priced universities and even private schools. So, I skirted and left a possibly amusing and ridiculously idiotic banter, with these kids, because I needed to go buy some stupid food. After all, the bananas were waiting.
I remembered a quotation, as I grabbed the shopping cart and headed on down the yellow brick road;” gentlemen may cry peace, peace, but there is no peace!”I think that was during the Revolutionary war, or before it. And the guy knew what he was talking about.
“Piece” is really what everybody wants out of their fellow man; not “Peace”. Besides, there’s plenty of peace in the grave yonder, and then no one wants to go into the lighted peace; they do everything they can, to stay out of it. We only get finally shoved into Peace, cause we’re too old to hold it off any longer.
Human beings were not really made to like peace in THIS world;”can you please tell me if the day-old bread is over there, or if it’s in the bulk section with the whole-grain bagels? Okay, thanks.”I almost ran over the guy, with my shopping cart, who was attempting to steal a can of baked beans out of the lower shelf; “way to go man, I’m not finking you out; you’re just raising all the prices for me, because I’m buying over-the-counter.”
finally,my shopping cart was filled to overflowing with glamorous goodies, (READ: nonfat yogurt, lots of apples, maybe some oranges, tangerines, bananas, whole-grain bagels, a little butter, some on– sale Danish cherry jam,honey,,
what else? – Plenty of toilet paper, paper towels, some price reduced 2 pounds of skim milk ricotta cheese, some frozen fish sticks (UGH!) -soy sauce, Grey Poupon Mustard,( in case any really rich guy, asked to borrow some) 2 pounds of Bandon cheddar cheese, small package of Neufchatel, green garters for st. Patrick’s Day, kale, tomatoes, “impeachment” – no, that would be really expensive; but, gee, we really needed it! No Governor should be without it!
No confusion with “peaches”; that was the name of my neighbors cat. Besides, when she said “in, peaches!” She was not spending millions of dollars of the taxpayers money, trying to protect rapists, child murderers, and other assorted criminals wandering all over the beautiful Oregon landscape. She was just trying to get her cat to come in.
finally, I passed through the crowded and busy and overworked, but not well paid, checkers, who added up my gleeful shopping spree of reckless abandon, oh yes, I did get the Cherry jam – and delightfully told me, my canvas bags were too dirty (well I had just washed them, and they’ve had faded slightly) I would have to buy their large heavy paper bags instead, for five cents apiece. After all, they had to watch out for our hygiene.–and the price of their bags .HAH.
rather than get caught in the looming rain coming. I did not argue( as my custom) cuz I was paying the higher price of the work of the shoplifters( after all, they all had five kids to feed. and several packs of boutique beer to swill, and a food bank to invade) and I just made it out. dumping everything wet and moldy in the lighter rain, . into the trunk of my overrated and proposterous vehicle. Too bad. no more plastic bags to protect my food!! shit.
But before driving out of the drenched parking lot, with a full view of the plastic hating, death=penalty hating. and firearm-disgusted tables filled with paper bills, I beheld a scene of righteous entitlement:
They were all getting DRENCHED in the cloud break; all the paper bills of peace,. non-death penalty, non-firearms and of course, plastic bag- denying -young people. who hated that horrible plastic,too, were getting their “natural wool sweaters” and their “organic blue=bleached thin jeans” and their “cashmere over-coats ” and their “non-nylon. natural spun scarves” soaked to the bone.
all the political papers were SOPPING; none of the store employees had any extra plastic bags, to help them protect the mess, or their shrinkable clothes, –or lay over the tables and papers. ect/ to protect them.
All the paper–and-political information on it, hundreds of dollars of Kinko, and Xerox,. and some nice leather folders, were getting SOAKED and ruined. Too bad, of course the store had no masses of cheap plastic bags, any more, . to protect either table, or shove paper piles into; and the cold, wet, hissing Oregon wind-storm rain, swept the tables away.
The cheap paper bags from the grocery went quickly sagging. and broke,. spilling shoppers’ groceries, too, all over the wet of the parking lot grounds. causing a “rain” of cursing and screaming.
The storms’ disintegration of the tables, papers, confused non-death-penalty and non-fire-arms kiddies . who were trying to protect their heads with limp paper=-grocery store bags, sorrrowfully abandoned their molden and sodden propaganda, trying to find their wet=natural-canvas back packs,. and Chanel organic-linen purses, which by now were filled with water.– not peace, and headed for their cars (Prius. of course)
The rain had won the battlefield. Despite the cries of “get our papers!!Get legislation for repeal of the death penalty!” and ”
Get rid of dangerous bad firearms!!”–paper-propaganda, and cheap sentiment, nature was winning; against the shallow. thin. and paper wars of the whining human beings. and their protests against Nature, Nature had won.
They were very ill prepared for Nature, violence, death, and the stronger sweep of the winds of war, weapons,. and stinking, base gross un-niceness of the real world; Nature would win out. All the paper protests against death penalties,and murderers; all the paper protests and paper-laws and legislations against weapons were nothing to the realities of the grim world.
No paper-laws,. no paper-rules, and no-paper protests could stop the cold hard rains and storms of Oregon’s criminals, and no paper-defence of ignorant, nebbish. elitist ignoramouses would shield them from that cold, frozen and biting rain-storms . They were too stupid to stay DRY, and denying to hold back the rain. They were too ultimately NUMB ON THE BRAIN to realize the truths.
They were ALL WET! ,
But I toddled home in my cranky, little car and I was smart enough to stay dry. I was a native. and we know that Oregon is RAIN.Only a dummy would be stupid enough not to protect against it.
“OR-OR-OR-OR-ORY-GUN!!!” (the Call of the Native) ,
(Sandraminadottuy, Eugene, Oregon, USA 2/27/2013