No Blisters For The Resistors!

    Time to get out my marching boots.

    Gonna be doing a lot of protesting in the next four years. I'm dusting off my "End The War In Viet Nam" sign and filling my fanny pack with snacks and Advil. I'm ready. Just give me a little Wite-Out so I can change "Viet Nam" to "Trump Is a Lying Sack Of Deranged Hubris". Maybe a nice flower sticker for the "i" in "Hubris". Because love.

     Oh,and maybe I'll sneak a link to my blog on my sign. Boomer resisters have expendable cash (for now) and I wouldn't hate being monitized. Sturdy Easy Spirit boots are not cheap. And God knows what's going to happen with Social Security now. I need a Plan B.

    The problem with my marching boots, however, is that they aren't super comfortable for long marches. I mostly bought them to walk around Costco because that's at least a quarter mile, all told. Especially if you double back to the bakery to replace the demi baguette you ate while you were sampling the cheese dip. On chicken skewer sample days, when I have to walk around for a while in-between pretending to be a different person to get another skewer, my feet are killing me by the time I get in line. 

    Dr. Scholls should market a new product line for us Boomer Resistors. Pads and support gels for the protest marcher of a certain age. Knee braces in rainbow colors. Wrist supports for raising picket signs. Splints that hold up your middle finger as you march by Trump Tower. I believe there is going to be a serious market for this. Especially the middle finger splint. Since the election, I've had, like, four middle finger cramps just reading FB posts from people who want me to give Trump a chance. I am developing Fuck You Finger Arthritis. And with healthcare at the guillotine, I'm guessing that's not gonna be covered by insurance.

     I really need to get my shit together before January 20.

    For one thing, I expect to be at the front line so there will be photos taken and posted to FB and the FBI. And I just don't think I am going to convince FBI operatives to photograph me from above so as to disguise my double chin, but not from so high above that my bald spot shows. It has taken me, like, three years to show Robin how to do this successfully. This worries me no end. The last time I was a protestor being photographed by the FBI I had the beauty of youth on my side. And ponchos. And there was no fucking High Def to feature my uneven skin tone. I looked fabulous. You should go onto the FBI site and check me out.

    This time, all I have is my personality. God help the movement. 

    I am going to need:

    1. A better bra. Running from tear gas is painful enough without my boobs lagging behind.

    2. Reading glasses. I want to make sure they are not forgetting any of my Mirandas.

    3. Hand sanitizer. I am all for locking arms in solidarity but some of my radical brethren and sisters do not believe in vaccines, which, you know, Goddess bless and all, but until we get Single Payer, I'm not taking any chances.

    So. Here we go. Strap on your Fitbit. It's on.

    

    

   

    

     

Comments

[Hawi Moore]

Nice post