And I’ll Say When

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

Our dear friend Matt Gaetz told the Biden Administration that he really didn’t have a problem with sending arms to Ukraine. Just as long as Florida was treated equally. In response to Hurricane Ian, perhaps the Administration should send some HIMARS and some Abrams tanks down to Ft. Walton.

When they say the US is giving Ukraine X amount of dollars, they’re giving X dollar amount of hardware. They aren’t writing them a check to go to Walmart. But the Gaetz comment isn’t important for what it says. So much as when it says.

This was said several days ago, before the storm clouds from Ian had even cleared, and before the first damage assessments were in. Crying about getting his share of the pizza even before the Dominos driver pulls up in the driveway.

There will be plenty of time to complain, so hold your horses. Use this time wisely to write down your most grievous complaints and place your thoughts in order.

Complaining that Santa might not be good enough to him, the week after Thanksgiving. For those with a loose grip on geography. Gaetz’s Florida district is way far away at the other end of the state. Any further away would put him in Alabama. Florida is a long state, drive it some time if you don’t believe me. Imagine a congressman from Cleveland, Ohio, worried about the goings on in Cincinnati, hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

It really illustrates his Nelson Munce quality. “Ha, ha I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend Ha, ha! But I have to pay her.” The kid who grew up with everything and yet had nothing. The kid in the new Z28 Camaro you saw having a good time, as you walked to your job after school. Saving up to buy your granny’s old Buick. The kid accepted into Auburn, with even shittier grades than yours! Gee, how did that happen?

You know this guy; everyone went to school with Matt Gaetz or a reasonable facsimile. Or maybe you worked with one. I knew one, we’ll call him Bubber for the sake of argument and because that was his name. His daddy was a multi, multi-millionaire and Bubber caught the best and the worst of everything.

His daddy used his pull to get him into Auburn to keep him out of Vietnam. But his daddies pull was not strong enough to make Bubber smart enough to keep him there. He moved on to the Coast Guard, where he learned of his love for the ocean.

That experience and the experience gained from driving his daddies 40-foot boat down at the beach house in Florida. Just simple economics really. Do you have any idea what it costs to rent a 40-foot boat slip for a yacht month after month? So, it just made sense to buy a house with a 40-foot slip and ocean access.

His military obligations complete, keeping Orange Beach free from invasion. Bubber moved on to the figurehead position as manager, of one of daddy’s lessor concerns. His office was fun, a plaque on the wall honoring his two semesters at Auburn. Golf clubs in the corner with the fishing tackle.

Pictures on the wall of bucks and stags he’d like to kill when hunting. But most of all, he really loved taking his own boat down to the Gulf of Mexico. To do whatever it is Bubber’s do with a nice boat in a party town, on the weekend on their free time.

One day, Bubber was down in the mouth at work and complained, he wanted to take his boat down to the Gulf but didn’t have the money. Remember, he’s telling this to people struggling to pay the rent. The next day, Bubber was smiling and jubilant. He was going to the Gulf this weekend after all, his wife came up with some money and she gave it to him and told him to go.

There are several ways you can look at this predicament. Perhaps, after fifteen years of marriage, their relationship had grown so loving and close. That his wife broke into her secret mad money and gave it to him rather than to see the look of disappointment in his eyes.  

Or “I don’t want to see you moping around the house here all weekend, crying like a whiny bitch, cause you can’t go play with your toys and your friends. Just take the money and just go.” Or my favorite scenario because I’m cynical and I think that way.

“What? (gulp) What do you mean you’re not going to this Gulf this weekend? Here, I found some money I forgot I had. Now you just go, and you have a real good time. I’ll be fine here all by myself all weekend, all alone.”

You know if my wife were ever so gracious as to finance my out-of-town recreation. I might just double back someday and find out where the headwaters of this fountain of generosity originate. To find out where the impetus of this personal charity begins. But then, I think that way.

An entitled child monster, little Eddie Munster grows into an entitled adult monster Matt Gaetz. And because they have never worked for anything, they have no conception of working for anything. Everything is handed to them until they expect everything to be handed to them.

Someone comes up with money out of the blue, they don’t question it. They deserve it! Problem solved. They don’t make suggestions, they file complaints. “Why won’t the world spin the way I want it to?” Why don’t these people just pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, like he did?

Through hard work and persistence, Bubber had managed to become the son and sole heir to a fortune, what did you do with your time?

That is what makes Gaetz comment so insightful. His first comment before anything else is said, “What’s in it for me? You better not try to short us or to cheat us!” He doesn’t care how much money is spent, as long as he gets his share of it.

It speaks volumes of a legislator so genuinely anxious to vote against hurricane relief for other people, in other parts of the country, to increase his conservative bonifides. But should whine so loudly, like a rusty gate about hurricane relief in his home state far, far away from his own district before the pavements even given a chance to dry.

Encapsulating Republican entitlement, “Gimme mine and I’ll say when, but you’d better count every Jellybean or quart of milk going to those other guys.”

“If he needs a million acres to make him feel rich, seems to me he needs it ’cause he feels awful poor inside hisself, and if he’s poor in hisself, there ain’t no million acres gonna make him feel rich, an’ maybe he’s disappointed that nothin’ he can do ‘ll make him feel rich.”
― John Steinbeck,

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