Saturday Special: Did I Really Say that Out Loud?

I just can't seem to keep my mouth shut. My babblings have gotten me into trouble many times, but today's incident bodes ominous for the politically-charged months to come.

hostile female store clerk

My mouth has always gotten me into trouble. First it was school, the little chatterbox in the corner. Then it was my rebellious teens and twenties when arguments about any topic would ensue shortly after I entered my parents' home. As my political beliefs, or what might pass for them, gained traction, hackles would raise at the simplest remark. This was especially true after moving to Santa Cruz, CA where people did not keep their socio/political views to themselves. In later years, moving to Truckee, I learned that being a Centrist inspired rancor from both … all … sides of the political spectrum.

That's just the deliberate opening of one's mouth to insert a foot or two. Since I could utter my first words, my mouth would flow like a waterfall over Yosemite's cliffs. Full, spring-time torrents of talk whether there was anyone in the room or not. I just had to fill the air with my voice.

That's where a lot of trouble comes as I realized, to my chagrin, that I did indeed say THAT out loud!

Such an incident happened today in our local Walgreen's. While waiting in line, I heard the man at the counter joking … complaining about the TSA and how that organization and its purpose has made American the laughing stock of the world.

"Everybody's laughing at us. They started laughing at us soon after TSA started."

The clerk agreed. "And they're still laughing at us twenty years later."

As he picked up his change and receipt, he then made the statement that rankled deep in my heart.

"It's Obama. He started it and he's controlling everything now."

WHAT?  Gee, I could swear it was George W. Bush who was President at the time the TSA was born. And his term lasted several years beyond that time. I wanted to say that exact thought when I got up to the counter, but I squelched my urge to air such blasphemy in MAGAland.

Granted, there are far fewer Trump flags flying in our happy little valley these days. It seems a tad safer to go out in public without being assailed by red hats on old, bearded, white men everywhere. COVID and time seems to have tempered the political hatred of years ago. At least, it hasn't reared its nasty head lately.

I continued to remain civil as I completed my transaction with the clerk. Nary a harsh political statement or history lesson was delivered. I gathered my bags, wallet, and car keys and walked toward the door, whispering to myself … I thought, "I'm glad I didn't say anything about Obama."

That was it until I got to my next destination and discovered I'd lost my wallet. Don't tell me I dropped it outside the drugstore? I drove back hoping some righteous soul had turned it in, although I had my doubts. The Sheriff's department has been arresting lots of folks these days who make their living stealing people's credit cards.

When I walked into the store and took a place in line, the clerk regarded me with a hard stare. Not the same welcoming smile and greeting I got when I came in previously. I patiently awaited my turn and soon stood before her. Those steely blue eyes regarded me again with what I took as disdain. It felt like she was thinking, "I've got you now."

"Has anyone turned in a black wallet," I said, keeping my demeanor calm and straight-forward.

She pursed her lips a bit, those eyes narrowing slightly and locking on mine like a vise. Leaning toward me, she said, "How much to you love me?"

I paused for a nanosecond before leaning forward a tad. "I love you dearly!"

She hopped aside and reached under the counter, handing me my wallet.

"Thank you. I'm certainly glad someone turned it in. Oh, and look, all the money and credit card are still there." And I walked out the door, chills raking up my spine.

Did I really speak my Obama remark loudly enough for her to hear? After eight years and two presidential terms with two different presidents, are people still prickly about Obama?

What's more unnerving, though, is knowing that I did say something out loud, but failed to realize that my voice carries like a Greek chorus in an amphitheater, even when I think I'm only mumbling to myself.

Or did I blow this silly little interchange way out of proportion? What do you think? Leave a note in the comments if something like this has happened to you.

If you enjoyed this post feel free to explore other poems, essays, and stories in the Ring Around the Basin Archive. I also love to read your comments, so please share your thoughts. Let’s start a conversation. And if you wish to support my writings, please consider subscribing or upgrading to a paid subscription. It’s now only $50/year. Even better, I would appreciate it if you could share Ring Around the Basin with your friends. Thank you!

All my books, Paradise Ridge, When the Horses Come and Go, and Ghost in the Forest are currently available on Kindle. 

Ghost in the Forest, is also available in paperback for ten bucks. Paradise Ridge is out-of-print, but the Kindle version is re-edited and better quality. Hard copies of “When the Horses Come and Go” are gone unless that dusty box in the corner still has some.

Book Review of Ghost in the Forest:

E.R. Flynn, Illustrator, Cartoonist, Storyteller and Creator of "Escape from Clowntown Comics" here on Substack.

"Ghost in The Forest" is a great read! Take note People. If you love stories about environmentalism and nature, its clash with urban mindsets, as well as personal transformation, this is the book for you!

"Ghost in The Forest" is a quick 126-page read. It's the story of Dori, a woman trapped in a mix of grief over parental loss and refusing to accept how her hometown and her friends have changed over the years. Because of this, Dori has become a recluse and a self-imposed misanthrope who finds more comfort amongst the hiking trails around her hometown of Morristown than in her dealings with the raw reality of other humans.

The book, in some ways, resembled Edward Abbey’s “Desert Solitaire” in that the story follows a protagonist's love of nature and angst about humans encroaching on it. In this case, it’s how Morristown is transforming into a mountain biking destination where cyclists run rampant on trails and nature.

However, a tragedy involving said mountain biking becomes a major pivot point for Dori, leading to a series of events that eventually bring about personal evolution and discovery.

If you're a nature lover, this book is a must-read. It beautifully portrays the clash between environmentalism and urban mindsets and the journey of personal transformation. The book's vivid descriptions of nature and the protagonist's love for it will surely intrigue you.

Paradise Ridge Review by western author D. B. Jackson:

If you draw circle roughly around an area that includes northern Nevada, southern Oregon, and southern Idaho, within that circle exists a culture and people who live a lifestyle largely untouched by modern values. These are the "buckaroos" and Basque characters author Sue Cauhape brings to life in her literary novel, "Paradise Ridge".

Leandro, the illegitimate seventh son of patriarch Xavier Arriaga and his mistress, Gisela, is at the center of this intriguing story that travels exceedingly successfully at both the personal level of the characters, as well as the compelling level where the story is told.

Cauhape writes in a literary style that reminds me of Annie Poulx. Paradise Ridge, on the surface, appears to be an upscale Western novel...once inside the pages, you will soon discover a potential classic waiting to be discovered.

I rated this book a 5...because that's all the stars there were.