Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Really, I'm Not Responsible

Why is it that we find being responsible for our actions so difficult today? The bailouts we’ve got going make us all feel like we’re on the Titanic, and with Uncle Sam bailing me out on most things, I just don’t feel responsible for much of anything.

Today I cannot be held responsible for my house payment and the two dogs who run the house, the politicians who run my life, the trash ruining the side of the road, a car I can’t afford to keep running, and the food I eat that gives me the “runs.”

I’m certainly not responsible for what I eat. I don’t need a personal trainer, I need a personal plumber to get me to think less about the size of my chest and more about what I ingest.
Take coffee for instance. This stuff runs through me like chocolate on a hot fudge sundae. And when nature calls I’ve got about five seconds to find a GPS system that will tell me the location of the nearest “relief center.” Who’s responsible for that? By the way, a “relief center” at my age could be just about anywhere.

And what about the hot fudge sundae? Who should be held responsible when the chocolate leaks out the cap and gets all over my clothes? Why, my personal plumber of course. I shouldn’t have been allowed the thing in the first place.Nope, the only thing I’m holding myself responsible for these days is finding someone else to blame for all my screw-ups. I’m going to hold my feet to the fire on that one.

I’m going to blame my mother and whatever political party’s in power for some of it. After all, she was responsible for me the first 18 years and they’ve had me off and on for the last 40.

My mother insisted on making my bed and now here’s Obama making another one in which I may lie. I think I’ll put the responsibility for me not being able to fix stuff (with the exception of my hair) on her head too. She made me play outside and not work on the car and vacuum cleaner when they went down. She said Dad could do it. Well, she let me play myself right into D’s and F’s so I might as well blame her for the fact I don’t read and write to good either. She never made me do homework and now the government is trying to work me to death. But I’m just getting started. I’m going to blame Mrs. Harvey for not making me diagram sentences and Ronnie Barns for seating me behind Sonny Perdue in history class.

That’s part of the reason I don’t feel too awful great about myself. How would you like to be thought of as the other Sonny? And I’m going to place the responsibility for the fact that I don’t get along well with others right where it belongs, at the feet of the preachers I’ve had over the years.

There I sat, sleeping through some darn good sermons and not a word from them about pew responsibility. Now I’ve got Al Gore trying to put me on a bicycle in order to keep the polar bears on ice. Don’t think so.
I’m not responsible for my mortgage discretion, pet supervision, dietary ingestions, 40 years of legislation, polluting car emissions, environmental degradations, lack of identification or my high school graduation. How in the world can I be responsible for ice cap liquefaction?

I don’t think I should even be held responsible for paying to have this printed at the library. I walked in free and you’d think everything else in here would be gratis, too.

But, there is good news. I have a wonderful daughter out in Utah, for whom, according to my wife, I was responsible. Wonder if that makes me a Republican or a Democrat?