Rick the Writer

Hello. It’s me, again — Rick the Writer. We don’t use last names around this presidential campaign anymore. Just a first name, followed by professional pursuit, because apparently, it is important that people know what you do if you are going to speak out on behalf of a candidate. Or not.

The thing is, now, the candidates want people to know that those who support them are “hard working people,” because, apparently, if you’re not “hard-working,” you’re not worth the air you’re breathing.

You can tell this because every time one of them talks they say something about “hard-working Americans.”

Writing isn’t an occupation that is generally accepted by folks as one that qualifies, so heretofore, I didn’t use it. I started to go with “artist,” but that doesn’t really bring up an image of sweat amd toil in people’s minds either. Rick the Insurance Adjuster is just too long to say and it doesn’t roll off the tongue. And, by the standards of some of my friends, “that ain’t workin.’”

Not like their jobs.

I think that’s how the whole last name thing started out, way back around the time John McCain was born. Folks would just take their profession or their locale, and make that their last name. Blacksmiths became “Smith” — “Bakers” made pies and bread. People who blew flutes or something became “Piper.” Let’s not go there with how people named Johnson came about.

“McCain,” though, came from “the son of Eoin” — the Irish form of “John.” So “John McCain” actually means “John John,” or “John, son of John.” But we can just call him John the Hero. I assume you heard about that, somewhere. Heroing is hard work, I’m sure. So John John is OK by that standard.

Caribou Barbie’s maiden name was Sarah Heath. “Heath,” means “one who came from Heath” — which is a wasteland with low shrubs.

Uh. OK.

“Palin,” by the way, means “one who came from Paliler.” Now, I’m not sure about this kids, because you know how research hurts my head, but I think Paliler is in ... France! Neither one of those tell us whether or not those folks are hard-working, so let’s just call her Caribou Barbie. Huntin’s hard work. You betcha!

I couldn’t find anything on “Obama.” So I guess there’s another reason to be suspicious of the black guy. We’ll call him “Barack the Muslim” – which means “He who definitely won’t get a rednecks vote now.”

“Biden.”

Whattaya think? Correctomondo! Not in there either! Is there a pattern here? But we have to call him something — how about “Joe the Puppy Kicker?”

No. Puppy kicking is hard work. Better use “Joe the Gun Seizer.” That should work.

Just for fun, let’s do “Bush” — dweller at sign of the bush (usually a wine merchant); one who dwelt near a bush; and “Cheney” — one who came from Quesney, Cheney or Chenay (oak grove), in FRANCE; dweller near the chain or barrier used to close a street at night. Oddly, that makes sense. We don’t care whether or not these guys are “hard-working” anymore, because by the grace of God, they’re outta here come January 20.

Joe the Plumber’s last name is Wurzelbacher. Like Obama and Biden, that one apparently doesn’t have a meaning or known origin, but it sounds just as foreign. It is unfortunate that Joe’s real last name isn’t “Plumber,” and that may well be the reason McPalin changed it. What if “Wurzelbacher” was discovered to mean “he who bets on the dark horse?”

Safer to just stick with “the plumber.”

I just wonder, when one of these two candidates gets elected, is he going to be president of the slackers too?

You know, guys who just sit behind a keyboard, making up sentences or digital images after a dozen hours or so every day giving away somebody else’s money?

What about professional golfers? Does that qualify as hard-working? Or professional bass fishermen ... or NASCAR drivers ... or Talk Radio hosts?

What about movie stars like ... I don’t know ... Ronald Reagan (descendant of Riagan -little king)? Do Joe the Plumber or Bob the Builder or Fred the Fireman or Doug the Ditch Digger allow lazy millionaires, or people who married them, into their club?

I have this plan to win the lotto, after which I’ll probably become a world famous international playboy, like Jethro the Bodine. Jethro doesn’t do much work if you don’t count hooking up two record players to the truck so he’ll have stereo. Is he going to have a president?

For some reason, the candidates, and lots of other folk, like to pat people on the back if they get up early and go to work and keep working until late into the night and then get up and do it again. Amen.

Those who never see their own kids, because the pursuit of legal tender is the definition of being a good American.

And we all want to be good Americans. Or “great Americans,” like Sean Hannity. That’s what we’ve all had drilled into our heads for as long as I can remember. Give ’em a gold star or something, but just make sure they keep working, “like a workin’ man do.”

I’m questioning that now. Could it be that if you’re too dog-tired to do anything but work, you’re easier to control?

Just askin’.

It seems that, if a guy figures out how to survive without breaking his back and ignoring his family, he better not plant a flag in his yard. He might as well move to the wasteland with low shrubs. Or, better yet, to France.