The State of My House Address

Once a year the President tells Congress and the country what good he has done in the previous year. It’s called a State of the Union Address. If it’s his first year in office, well he tells us just how bad things are and how he is going to fix them. Then he gives us a list of things he plans on doing in the next year. Let’s just call it his Bucket List.

And no matter what is on the Bucket List and how much the country may need it, one thing always happens. To hear the other political party’s wailing and gnashing of teeth, it’s the worst calamity in the history of the country. If the Prez gets his list of stuff, the country will go to hell in a handbasket, according to his opponents. It doesn’t matter which party the President belongs to. It’s always the same.

Why the political parties are called parties I will never know. After all, they never seem to have any fun. And who wants to go to a party that ain’t no fun? I mean I used to date a girl by the name of Alice Jean and she could teach these folks up in Washington, D. C. how to party. At her parties, there was always laughing and cutting up. I never knew throwing a Frisbee could be near as much fun as it was when A. J. held one of her Annual Frisbee Day Barbecues.

Anyway back to the Prez. Though he gets most, or in the case of some years any, of the goodies on his list, it seems a good idea to tell the country how things are going and what he thinks would be good for the country. So I was thinking maybe I would give you a one-time only State of My House Address.

I live in a two-bedroom house in a rather nice neighborhood. I don’t see my neighbors as much as I used to, unless there’s a hurricane. Afterwards all the folks on my street come tumbling out of our cubby holes, checking out the damage and getting reacquainted. And I’m sure most of your houses are like mine. They can suck your wallet dry cause there is always carpet to replace, a faucet to fix, a roof to patch and some piece of yard to sod. There’s ants to do-in before they go marching off to war, and the war they’re marching off to is my yard. (I would say “ants to kill” but sh-h-h-h, I don’t want them to know what I am up to. The little boogers have a way of getting me before I get them.)

If I had a Bucket List, I would put one item on that list. You see, I have a lawn. Man, I do have a lawn. I have enough lawn that could easily be turned into a national park. Call it Uncle Bardie’s Monument to Lawns. At least, I would get my lawn mowed for free by the U. S. Park Service.

Despite the fact that it takes a good two and a half hours to mow the lawn, despite the fact that there’s beaucoup amount of work needing done, it’s my little piece of the pie. It’s my castle, and the moat I plan on adding around it will be tax-deductible. At least, until Congress comes along and rips that deductible right out of my hands.

Won’t that be something?

 

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