Don't Read This If You Love Ohio

 

Ohio. It's really beautiful there. When I'm in Ohio I sometimes think of the Underground Railroad because it can get boring in Ohio and my mind wanders and I want to have good thoughts about this very red state. I visualize slaves escaping from the South, heading through Ohio farm fields to make their way to Canada. 

Other than that, I hate Ohio. My parents are buried there. They lived nearly seventy years in Illinois and moved to Ohio so that my younger sister could care for them. She did this voluntarily and it would have been great except for the fact she was married to a conniving alcoholic who squandered their savings and lost the house my parents had worked their whole lives to find solace in their last remaining years. The last time I visited Ohio was before the November 5th election. There was sign after sign placed in front of homes in support of the orange man. There was even one, made from an old piece of plywood placed right in the driveway nearly touching the main road, so you couldn't miss it. It was pretty much a threat to any libtard who would dare defy Trump. The spelling and grammar was pretty much on par with a maga mind and upbringing. So, it isn't surprising to find that a swastika in the American flag in the office of Ohio Representative Dave Taylor went unnoticed. After the sticker was captured during a video conference, Taylor has implemented a full scale investigation into the deplorable act! He could have just thrown the damn thing away like everyone else who received the sticker days prior. Maybe, just maybe Taylor liked it. It's possible he thought a young Republican sent it to him. (((Wink, wink, nudge, nudge))) I really shouldn't pick on Ohio but how can I not? It's where family members live who I suspect voted for Trump. Well, one I suspect, the other probably has never voted in her life. Yep, one of those who believe politics has nothing to do with her. It's also where JD Vance was born. His wife would not be welcome. 

Every time I visit Ohio my sisters ask me if I'd like to visit our parents in their final resting place. I've been there twice. The first time was after Dad's funeral- the second time was when we were just "passing through" twelve miles off our destination. The only difference I noted was Dad's Cubs cap is nearly indistinguishable as something he wore on his head. To me it's a morbid timeline of what's happening beneath the cap with my parents. Someone had placed plastic flowers on my mother's stone which infuriated me. I screamed in silence as I recalled when I was a child she had filled our tiny home with lilacs, peonies, roses and lilies of the valley my father grew for her. Now, in their honor, he has a rotting cap and she has toxic plastic. I usually love walking in cemeteries because they are peaceful and lovely. This one isn't. It's a treeless plot of brown grass with ugly headstones and grief. Maybe this is why I hate Ohio.

Thomas Alva Edison came from Ohio. My sister seems proud of that and mentions it every time we're near his childhood home or laboratory. The only thing I think about after hearing his name is that he was responsible for the electrocution of elephants to prove what a great product he had invented. 

I love my sisters but I hate their adopted state. I hate the smiling, waving people who talk funny and wear socks with sandals. I hate that every person I see is whiter than white bread. You won't see another person of color unless you go to the Mexican restaurant in town. The patrons are all a pasty white whilst being served by a few brown people who talk just like any Ohioan, born and raised. This restaurant is the only reason I happily agree to sit in a car for eight hours, watching a vast line of black pavement and miles of trees strangled by some strange vine, knowing at the end of this torture is the most adorable restaurant with colorfully painted chairs, giant margaritas you can swim in and excellent food. I wonder why the brown people choose to live there? It can't be easy living in the midst of magaland. I wonder about them. Are they safe? Are they scared? I'm terrified for them. They might be safe for awhile. After all, Trump is targeting blue states right now- states with dancing frogs and tossed subway sandwiches. 

Ohio has the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which is quite underwhelming. The only thing that amazed me was how thin David Bowie was. I really shouldn't be so mean to Ohio because you could close your eyes in Ohio, open them in Wisconsin and not see much of a difference. We have a Dave Taylor by the name of Ron Johnson. We have quite a few Taylors actually, but I never got the sense cheddarheads dug a hole so far down they can't see light anymore. We didn't bow down to Elon Musk and his bribery scheme. So we're kind of purlpley. Ohio will probably always be a red state and they will proudly wear their ignorance for all to see. And if you're from Ohio and take offense, well, I understand. I'm sure there's a few of you who are "woke." It's kind of like being Simon in, 'Lord of the Flies.' 

It's funny how a lot of people got that sticker in the mail and noticed the swatiska right away and rightly tossed it in the trash. Taylor or an aide pinned it to his message board and there it stayed until an outsider noticed it. Of course it could be just a big ole mistake, no one seeing the image. An optical  illusion someone called it. Hmm...

I could be wrong about Ohio. It was once the center for the underground railroad where the good citizens devised a network to ensure the safe passage to a new life for many people who were enslaved, beaten and marginalized. One hundred and sixty years later, we are repeating history. The truly breathtakingly sad part about this, is American citizens who approve the annihilation of another human being. The swastika, the confederate flag, the gold cross worn by hypocrites, all symbols used by empty, soulless beings who choose hate.

Nothing is permanent, not even the tyranny of one orange man who wants to rule the world but will eventually rot away, hopefully sooner rather than later.