Drama Below

Late last night we were treated to the latest methhead melodrama downstairs, when an ambulance, firetruck, and three police cars pulled up to our building, and practically had to carry the 20-something mother away.  It was pretty clear from the turnout and symptoms that drugs must have been involved.  I get the impression this is not unusual in our neck of the woods.

It’s particularly sad that two little kids depend on this mom, whom we know to be mentally unstable and sometimes even deranged.  And her gun-toting redneck guy friends aren’t much better, enabling her behavior.  They’re all back today, smoking like smokestacks, as if nothing happened.

Needless to say, we didn’t get much sleep, worrying about the situation right below our feet.  We’re just trying to mind our own business, live a quiet, secure life, and get out of here safely.  We’re at the mercy of whatever these careless grownup juvies cook up next.

It’s sad and scary that these are the kind of rural poor whites who vote for a trump, if they vote at all, and these are the same folks who will be hit the hardest under his regime.  It’s surreal to be living in the midst of this mindless, heedless culture, and to realize a vast growing segment of our population lives like this, and determines our future through their ignorance.  The rest of the world is baffled and alarmed by the direction this country is taking.  It’s a dangerous, volatile place to be in history.

We know our new home will have its own challenges, but the privacy alone, and being able to live our lives, without constantly being confronted and threatened by irrational hordes in our own home, will be a welcome relief.

One can fantasize, at any rate.

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