Papers Please!

By

Cognitive Dissonance

For those who may not know, Mrs. Cog and I live in the mountains of Southwestern Virginia, near the intersection of the three poorest counties in the Commonwealth. While that fact doesn’t directly affect us, either financially or physically, it does for many who live within our local community.

The area is basically poor farming country, with many locals still scratching out a living raising cows and calves on steep hilly terrain suitable mostly for livestock grazing and, occasionally, assorted cash crops such as cabbage, corn or even hay.

But for the most part, those who must pay the bills work for others outside the immediate area and for relatively low wages. Worse, they travel many miles to make their keep, often 30-50 miles one way on poorly maintained country back roads. This makes for very long days to match those rather short paychecks.

The point is, many who live here must travel long distances for meager wages. Take away their vehicle or impede their travel and many would quickly fall into abject poverty up here on the mountain. That said, it’s not much different from any other rural American community with an aging and declining population.

Last week the governor of Virginia escalated his two week earlier ‘stay-at-home’ declaration, moving it from voluntary to mandatory, with prejudice I might add. Meaning ‘official’ enforcement. As in at the point of a gun, if the ‘authority’ present at the scene of the infraction deems it necessary. Continue reading Papers Please! →

Missing In Action

By

Cognitive Dissonance

As a very young pup, whenever I was overdue and not home when expected, as all mothers tend to do mine would begin to fret. And it was always around this time, regardless of what I was doing or who I was with, I would get this intuitive feeling I needed to be home.

NOW!

Ten or fifteen minutes later I would attempt to sneak back into the house, knowing full well there was hell to pay for overstaying my outdoor play visa. But there was no hiding from mom when her missing child radar was up and running. Obviously relieved to find me alive and not bleeding, after sternly admonishing me for being tardy, mom usually claimed she was getting ready to send the dogs out to search for me.

I never understood the comment, at least not during those tender early years, since we had no dogs that could be rapidly dispatched for search and rescue, let alone body retrieval. Nor did I understand her alarm that I was missing in action, since I knew perfectly well I was alive and kicking.

That was, and remains, a perfect example of pure unadulterated and unabashed narcissism on a scale only a child can achieve. It is also why, when finally relieved of our initial panic our little loved one is missing, we want to both hug and shake them to pieces.

Consumed by a huge heaping helping of fall homestead projects (they say winter is coming) I have been engaged in considerably less unadulterated and unabashed, and much MUCH more, narcissism. While I have several articles in various stages of completion, none are ready to be posted.

Please accept my apology, along with the promise of no more than one additional week of waiting until my next full-length article is published.

And thank you for your patience.

12-01-2019

Cognitive Dissonance