The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Hits: 23

My name is Skeeter Daddle and I’m an art alcoholic. Stained glass art, to be specific. And now a chicken artist, to be precise. We hopeless addicts find ourselves in baffling and unpredictable predicaments, victims of the vicissitudes of economic necessities. Over the years I’ve made windows to keep neighbors from peering into clients’ bathrooms while they do their ‘business’, I’ve created art for kitchen cabinets that prevent viewing their mismatched dishware, I’ve designed murals for schools in red-leaning areas of the state that weren’t really wanted but were offered as part of a 1% for art program by our leftist government here in Washington. In other words I go where the money leads, no need to prove the adage of ‘starving artists.’

Just before the Covid plague swept the client base pretty much flat, I got a commission to do the neighbors’ barn, a series of five fairly sizeable windows that faced their new house. They seemed hesitant to ask me, assuming no doubt that Picasso wouldn’t paint the side of an outhouse if his neighbor asked, but … like I said, pride is not one of my virtues or vices. Art is art and barn art works just fine for me. And besides, most of my large scale glass murals in the realm of public art commissions were drawn on that barn’s loft floor once the hay bales were moved to the sides. It was actually an honor to do those barn windows.

So when the same neighbors’ broached the idea of another window up at the barnyard, this time for a chicken coop, you can guess, rightly, that I jumped at the opportunity. Chickens need art too, you know, and maybe you didn’t know that a happy hen is a good layer. I suggested piping in classical music, create a veritable chicken cathedral up there, get ready to corner the egg market of the South End. So I accepted the challenge, happy to focus on something other than geo-politics, inflation, pandemic paranoia and partisan warfare. I can now turn my attention to a design that will maximize egg production. And hopefully not make the goats jealous of their cackling brethren.

Hits: 51

Hits: 47

We are a band of brothers, and native to the soil
Fighting for our Liberty, with treasure, blood and
Toil;
And when our rights were threaten’d, the cry rose near
And far
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag, that bears a Single
Star! Hurrah! Hurrah! For Southern Rights, hurrah!
Hurrah! For the Bonnie Blue Flag, that bears a Single
Star!

It never really ends, the Civil War. The one a century and a half ago. Not the one now. Although … maybe they’re the same thing. The good Governor of the proud state of Mississippi has named April as Confederate Heritage Month, April being the month that Ft. Sumter was fired on by South Carolina and the southern states seceded from the Union. Why not celebrate it, all you proud Mississippians?

Well, you white Mississips. Not too sure what I might feel as the ancestors of the slaves you folks fought so hard to keep picking your cotton. I had a neighbor tell me recently that racism was a thing of the past. You know, like the Civil War. Black folks have the same rights and the same opportunities as we do, he declared. Racism? Doesn’t exist in 21st century America. I started to argue, then decided nothing I could possibly say, statistics I could supply, nothing would convince him or any others out there that cops pick up more percentage of blacks, banks refuse loans to more percentage of blacks, more black children die in childbirth, blacks die younger than us whiteys. I might as well argue the Jews started World War Two. People believe what their prejudice wants them to.

But declaring April Confederate Heritage Month? Have we been fighting to take down those rebel flags on their courthouses, remove those statues of their traitorous heroes, maybe even teach the history of slavery in their schools … only to have them celebrate a war that killed off one fifth of their male population? Oh no, don’t teach critical race theory, Governor, you don’t need schooling on the subject. But you could use a little common sense. And some decency wouldn’t hurt either.

Hits: 59

Hits: 32

Undoubtedly there are those among you who think old Skeeter is a Neanderthal, burns wood for his heat, grows a garden for his food, hunts crustaceans for fun and meals. He doesn’t have a real job, doesn’t commute, refuses to own a cellphone, drives an old truck to the dump or the store once in awhile and still writes handwritten letters. He builds most of what he needs from banjos to boats, furniture to stained glass windows, sheds to houses. If this were the 1800’s, you might think of him as a pioneer, but those times are long gone. Now he’s just an anachronism. Or so you might think.

Let me dissuade you of that quaint and unfounded notion. Old Skeeter keeps up with the times, my friend, you best believe. Just because he uses a landline and eschews social media doesn’t make him a troglodyte, no sir, he’s a sly fox, careful to evade unwanted intrusions by the authorities or reality. He pays attention to the Trends and then, when least expected, jumps ahead of the Game. I’m talking, of course, about cryptocurrencies and non fungible tokens, block chains and hyper-encryption. And because you’ve been loyal readers all these years, I’m giving you front seat to the money making opportunity of your lifetime.

CryptoDaddle. Not just another cryptocurrency but a full service monetary alternative to the outmoded cash and credit card society that is, unless you haven’t been paying attention like Skeeter has, completely primitive and obsolete. You might as well be carrying wampum in your wallets. CryptoDaddle is the investment opportunity for futuristic visionaries like yourselves, a chance to get in on the ground floor of what will be the gold standard of the 21st century. Combining NFT’s with cryptocurrency, CryptoDaddle is an amalgam of digital artworks coupled with blockchained virtual monetary instruments, an elegant and lucrative hedge for those of you worried about inflationary trends, political upheaval and an increasingly unsettled global environment. NFT artworks of each and every creation of the Skeeter Daddle oeuvre will fast become the coin of the realm, gaining in value with each secure transaction. Finally aesthetics will dictate finance. And you, my friends, have the rare opportunity to … well, without being too crass … to cash in. Don’t delay, the future is yours and so is the wealth. CryptoDaddle, far far ahead of its time. Like Skeeter hisself.

Hits: 16

Hits: 31

I’m pretty much beyond child bearing age. Plus, I’m not a woman. And even if I went through the sex change, I don’t think I’m likely to get pregnant. But even so, I follow the abortion laws the red states are implementing, not fearful for my own consequences, but because it interests me how the same folks who want government out of everything but our bedroom think it’s politically advantageous to use abortion as a wedge issue. Most folks in the Yew Ess of Aye think abortion should be legal. And most folks think abortion is bad. I’ve never had an abortion but I bet if I had, I’d wish things hadn’t gotten to that point.

Idaho just sent a bill to the governor for his signature that bans abortion after 6 weeks and allows, like Texas, private citizens to sue doctors. Idaho added a wrinkle allowing each family member to sue for 20 grand, figuring, I guess, that the lost joy of babysitting grandchildren ought to be worth a lot of money. Not sure what the loss to aunts and uncles would be, but hey, 20,000 dollars ought to cover about any grief, forget about the savings in birthday and Christmas presents.

A lot of right wing Republican states are lining up to hit the road running if the Supreme Court overturns Roe v Wade so Idaho, one of the most crimson in a growing constellation of anti-abortion states, caught my attention with its clause that would not allow a rapist to sue for his victim’s abortion. This seemed mighty liberal to me … until I got to the part about the rapist’s relatives who could file suit.

Now, I respect the rights of a rapist as much as the next baby loving kook, but c’mon, the brothermotherfathercousin of Ted Bundy whose victim survives and becomes pregnant can be sued for tens and tens of thousands of dollars by the creepy family? Are you kidding me?

Idaho should change its license plate motto FAMOUS POTATOES to something more current. VICTIMS TWICE.

Hits: 10

Hits: 23

Hits: 15