Out of Cali

They are a family of four crammed into the cab of a U-Haul meant for two; a father, mother, daughter and son, the sadly and only nuclear family left in the greater L. A. area. Obviously afraid (and with good reason) the truck’s passengers huddle together, sure that they will be caught and forced to pay more taxes before they can escape. Onward they creep, past the destitute homeless, past hotels filled with illegal immigrants, past hordes of cross-dressing prostitutes and the tech and film industries that support them. Away they slink from the ideology pushing campuses, inching onward and ever away from those hideous, sleaze-balls they see chasing behind them in their sideview mirrors, the icky politicians who profit from all this madness.

Onward our dreamers creep through throngs going nowhere.

They might not make it. This they know. Whilst obviously not the smartest people (though they have wised up), what they are is filled with the memories and glories of Reagan years past, so they will risk all, knowing that if they can make it out solvent then normalcy awaits; common sense, decency, law and order… the promises of freedom and meritocracy offered only in the most crimsony states.

So, “go you brave Haulers,” is my prayer for U.… “Go! Go before the New Yorkers and Illinoisans can sweep up (sight unseen mind you) the few (and vastly overpriced, I might add) homes still available in the only southern state not filled to the brim with your like already; the Grand “Sand-flea filled” State of South Carolina! Go, U-Haulers, and take back your rights to life in a sane world!” (But please… vote “right” when you get there. Thank you, and God Bless.)