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Uncle Bucky Joins The Scott Brown Caravan To D.C.

Posted on January 20 2010 6:10 pm
Divorced Dad of three. Collection A.V.P. by day, humor/political blogger after the evening dishes. Looking for hot/wealthy/uber-lifted Scottsdale Granny for hi-jinks, hiking, and Saturday-morning coffee. Is this e-harmony?
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This one has even more miles than the Senator’s!

It is never fun to be woken from a deep sleep, especially at 4:30am.

But there was some very real urgency in my Uncle Bucky’s voice this morning, and a lot of background noise, too.

I could hear what sounded like a GM plant at full roar – clanging metal and revving engines and yelling auto workers.

He had summoned me on his SAT phone, his preferred method of communication – he firmly believes that the Government agents that are after him are at a disadvantage when he’s mobile and hooked up to the firmament.

Not to mention that it’s easier for the space creatures on Neptron-57 to keep tabs on him – he has secrets he wants to sell to them, and he’s been courting them for decades.

He was all hyper-kinetic and talkative and rambling, even for him.

I tried to slow him down a bit:

“What’s up, Unc? Why are you calling me so early in the morning? And what’s all that racket going on?”

He took on a big lungful of air and then let me have it:

Scott Brown, Johnny! He won! We won! Got the truck loaded up and I’m headed out to join the caravan!”

I of course knew about the amazing victory in Massachusetts; I had stayed up late watching all the hoopla. But what sort of expedition was my kinsman talking about, anyway?

“Johnny, it’s right here, I printed it! Go to Free Republic and read the news! There’s gonna be a big parade and I gotta get there before it’s over!”

I could picture him stabbing the assuredly crumpled piece of paper with his huge index finger, like I was right there in front of him.

“So where are you right now, Uncle? It sure is loud in there!”

“I’m down at Whepner’s getting my tires inflated and the oil changed,”

he said, referring to his favorite 24-hour Prescott AZ auto shop. They knew he was crazy and were pretty calm about the rambling misanthrope who occasionally happened by in his 1951 International Harvester to get this or that item serviced, or to ask some detailed question about the “flow cycle” in the sputtering and smoky engine. He really liked their coffee, and always paid cash – if you could overlook the madness, he was a pretty good customer.

I grabbed my Blackberry Pro-Tem from the bedside table and looked up the web-post. Tea-Party Conservatives and like-minded Independents were clamoring for Brown to parade down to D.C. in his pickup truck while his supporters gathered on the overpasses to show their support – the idea of course was to send a message to the tyrants in our Nation’s Capital who were trying to ram every leftist Ponzi-scheme they could think of down our throats before time ran out on them:

“It would be great if we could organize a series of rallies all up and down the I-95 Corridor to cheer Scott Brown on as he drives the truck down to Washington DC. He is supposed to be driving down Thursday or Friday, so time is obviously short. Maybe it is just a fantasy, but wouldn’t it be grand to have a Scott Brown Truck Tour, so all of the folks who weren’t lucky enough to be in Massachusetts to vote for him got a chance to come out and show their support? Think of all the free publicity, and the fear it would strike into the hearts of the Congressional Democrats, if Scott Brown’s drive to Washington was applauded at every turn, even in their own districts? How would Frank Pallone of the New Jersey Sixth Congressional District react if 5,000 people turned out in Edison, New Jersey (Exit 10, New Jersey Turnpike) to cheer on Scott and his truck? How would Frank Kratovil of the Maryland Fifth Congressional District feel if 10,000 people turned out in Harve de Grace (Exit 89 off I95) showed up to welcome Scott Brown to Maryland?”

And so on.

I asked my Uncle how he thought he was going to make it all the way to the East Coast by the time the procession started, and he relayed the following:

“Johnny, have some faith! This truck has been through more wars with me than Brown’s has with him. In fact, it’s not even close! Besides, the Glockenfookels (Skunk-Works mechanics) on Neptron sent me some bottled star-fuel to get me there quick!

“Keep your phone on Nephew! I’ll send you the news as I get to it!”

I thought about the election victory, and what a shot-in-the-arm it had been for all real Americans – crazy and normal alike. I wished for a safe trip for my Uncle – and for Scott Brown as well.

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