Over the months, possibly the years I’ve noticed a steady decline of the bathroom of my home on the first floor. The walls had never been painted and the original paint that appeared on the walls when I and the missus purchased the old farm house. For all I know, this could have been the paint the old farmer put on in the 1950’s. The toilet was giving me problems and would develop a leak around the base. Gaining a little handy-man knowledge for my dad, I replaced the wax ring three times and it still managed to leak.
The missus noticed the leak first, as she does. I feigned interest, knowing one day I would regret procrastinating on such ominous trouble. Spring break was in a few weeks, so I put off the inevitable. During that time the suspended ceiling started to sag in a most unflattering way. The floor began to develop dark areas where the leak had penetrated beneath the top most surface. The missus had placed a towel around the base of the toilet so as to prevent surface water from gathering. The towel looked like a scarf that an English gentleman might wear around his neck in the cold season. I tried not to look at it. This was a project for spring break just a week away.
At last, spring break! The time for rest and relaxation was upon us, and I aimed to make the most of it. From the corner of my eye I could see the degradation that consumed my bathroom. As I briskly walked past the commode, I could hear the last whimpers of an ailing shit house. “If I continue to ignore this travesty, perhaps it will repair itself and I will be completely off the hook” I thought. Then Tuesday came, the second day of spring break, I told the missus “We got to take off that toilet and check it out.” There is something humbling about kneeling in front of the toilet, in a totally sober state of mind. I turned off the water, emptied out the tank and bowl, unhooked the water connections, unscrewed the floor bolts and ripped the son-of-a-bitch from the floor. The missus and I dragged the filthy commode to the living outside the bathroom and there it sat.
There is no worse feeling than unintentional commitment. Now, I had to act. But I knew I was over my head. I did the only thing a self respecting man of the house would do, call a contractor. So the next day he arrived, with his assistant and ripped the floor out and replace the floor board. Even the well seasoned construction worker couldn’t get right to the matter. So I was relieved that I made the right choice and called him. But the real work was yet to begin. So I and the missus replaced the flooring, painted in a pretty powder blue, re-caulked put everything back. The icing on the cake was going out and buying new towels and bath rug. It was work, but worth all the effort.
As I was doing the renovations, I couldn’t help but strike a parallel with the decrepit state of my bathroom and the decrepit state of the United States. It is uncanny how B. Obama has made our country into a shit house in disrepair. Let’s face it the U.S. is in need of some serious renovation. The first thing that needs replacing is to flush out Barack Obama. At this point I would be happy to call upon the expertise of someone like Ron Paul to help with the reconstruction. Although he may be more of a hatchet man than presidential, anyone of the GOP contenders would be a fine president over B-HO. Because, right now, the U.S. is in the toilet and it ain’t smelling so good.
So as I reworked my bathroom, I thought of the plan to rework America. First, rip out the moldy, smelly junk that is currently occupying the White House. Do not get any union help. They would keep the country in a state of disrepair. Use regular folks, real Americans. Throw the junk into the junk heap or burn it, just get rid of it. Next, shore up the faulty flooring and make it solid, to hold the burden of years and years of neglect and abuse. Finally, clean up the country; make it presentable, so the president doesn’t have to apologize for its condition. Put on a new coat of paint, trim up the details and polish the chrome. Make it sparkle once again. Let’s face it, America is the place where most of the world’s wasted people, from other countries, people who know that they have an opportunity to be free in America, can come to the U.S. and flush away the restrictions they experienced.
Perhaps America is a beautiful restroom, with beautiful floors, abundant resources, serviced by the finest workers. We and the whole world can come here and relieve ourselves of the oppressive governments that keep others bound up. All can come to America, to wash off the filth of the world and refresh the soul. We can see the wonderful decor and stand in awe of the sublime wonders, both natural and man made. America is the place where we can dump the burden of oppression and feel healthy. We ought to have the best place for our brothers and sister to come to and experience life, liberty and pursue happiness. Let’s turn what Obama has made into an outhouse back into the White House.