.

The day after election, Bubba called me in the late afternoon and asked, “Can you be packed and ready to go up to the cabins tomorrow morning?”

I can pack to go to the cabins in 30 minutes flat.  Bubba had cleared his schedule and needed some time to think what the fool tarnation just happened.

Usually, you guys don’t know when I travel because through the miracle of modern big time journalism, I can even post from my iPhone.  But, I’m gonna fess up now that I’m home.  I left Juanita to fend for herself.

The cabins it was, for a week of solitude, great food, and fall colors that only God can paint.  Bubba even fixed dinner on the porch one night.  The cabins were wonderful and we chatted until late at night under the stars, trying to figure out what happened in this election.

Sadly, even after pouring over numbers, reading analysis, and pondering 80 years of political experience between us,  it was not until our way home that we figured out what the hell happened in the election:  There are just too damn many crazy people in this country.

Hot Springs, Arkansas.

I am not an expert on this guessing ages thing, but I highly suspect that here’s some dude clearly on Medicare who claims to be against socialized medicine.  It’s obviously kept his stoopid butt alive and, dammit, it’s socialized medicine.  I also would like to take notice of his claim that he “will work for my seniors.”  Who gave us to you, Cowboy?  And if that particular campaign promise means that you will take our greeting jobs at WalMart for us so we can afford to eat, then hell’s bells, I’ll even vote for you.

He’s gonna turn people over to Fox News?  For torture?  Good Lord, I’ll take lashes and a one way ticket to Alcatraz over being turned over to Fox.  Would that include having to fetch Glenn Beck’s brains when they fall out?

You know, if I ever had any doubts that I’m on the right side of the political aisle, I just remember that this guy is on the other side.

And then there’s Lufkin, Texas – pines, poverty and Pentecostals.  There was a Democrat who lived in Lufkin once, but he died.  They didn’t even bother to bury him because they figured the devil would just pull him down for them.

Lufkin, Texas, on Highway 59.

No, we don’t get it either.

Somebody in Lufkin with a mess of money “gets” this.  That scares me.  No, seriously.  They have money, probably own a car, and might even have a hunting rifle.  If that don’t worry you, somethings wrong with you.

So, you will be happy to know that Bubba and I figured it out – there’s just too damn many crazy people.