Last Town Hall Meeting (satire)

I'm here in Chicken Neck, Kentucky observing one of the last Town Hall meetings of the year concerning health care. Justice of the Peace Joe Dodds is the speaker, and there's quite a crowd here. In fact, the Town Hall is packed solid and I can't even get inside.

Outside, there's throngs of people holding placards, some of them openly carrying shotguns, rifles, or with pistols strapped to their waists. I'd estimate about 200 men, women and children standing around the building protesting, standing around bonfires cooking hot dogs (or something), roasting marshmallows, and there's also a few jugs and mason jars being passed around.

I go up to one such man holding a sign that says "NO COMMIE HEALTH CARE". I ask him his name and his position on the issue.

"They call me Jimmie Joe and I'm hare to stand agin' health care and them Commie revenooers tryin' to take my guns away from me! I need my guns to eat! And I hear tell they plan on draggin' off the old folk and clubbin' them to death! Wa'll, I'm hare to tell you straight out that if one of them gov'ment revenooers try to touch one precious hair of my granny's head they are in for a fight! And I got two dozen kin in this county alone that'll back me up tooth and nail!"

I ask him why he's against health care reform.

"I got good health care. Miss Sairy's the doctor around these parts, has been for 60 years, and any time a chile needs bornin', or a boil needs lanced, or the miseries need curin', or a body needs leeched, Miss Sairy's thar to do it. We pay her a chicken' or a sack of turnips and everbody's happy. I ain't gonna pay high taxes for this gov'ment idee.

I comment that surely he doesn't make $250,000 a year so he won't get hit with higher taxes. In fact, this looks like a poor area so he should be getting a refund when he files his taxes.

"File taxes?"

I ask if they have much of a problem with illegal immigration.

"We get a Yankee now and then, but they don't stay long."

About that time there's a big commotion at the door of the Court House and a crowd presses by carrying a greasy black bundle.

"Hee, hee, them boys. They jist tarred and feathered the Justice.! They jist don't quit!"

NOTE: Sorry. I just couldn't resist poking a little fun at the insanity running rampant in the country. Misconceptions, misdirections, and outright lies are feeding fuel to the flame. We should be , for once, thinking about trying to do "THE RIGHT THING". Instead, people are being led in the directions dictated by parties that are only interested in money and power. Sure, there's plenty of legitimate questions as to how to make it work, but it is the right thing to do so we need to figure out how to make it work and then DO IT! For no other reason than it's "THE RIGHT THING TO DO"!

And, really, no offence to hilligans. I'm just one generation off from being born and raised deep in the backwoods of Kentucky and, later, West Virginia. My grandma used to tell my dad on a regular basis, when he was about age eight up, to go out and shoot a squirrel for breakfast. I visited my great-grandma and great-great-grandma when I was a little boy in the early 60's. They were in their 70's and 90's, respectively, both widows and living in the same house together. They just got indoor plumbing for the very first time in their lives. No more trips to the outhouse in the cold and snow and rain. No more trips to the well to cook and wash and bathe. I might poke a little fun, but that's my right because that's my roots, but there's been a lot of good, strong people come from , and still live in, those hills.