Po-Boy Views: Kitty's Knickers Or Someone Else's Problem

22:30 January 26, 2015
By: Phil LaMancusa

Lassitude - n

 1. Weariness of body or mind from strain, oppressive climate, etc.: lack of energy. 
2. A condition of indolent indifference.


Not me! Heck, it's Carnival time! I don't care who won the last election or if the voter turnout was less than 40%, y'all deserve whoever you didn't vote for! LOL. All I care about is if the weather on Krewe du Vieux parade night will be warmer and drier than in years past.

As you know, Valentine's Day comes right in the heart of Carnival and I'm just kinda over that by now, aren't you? You know: been there, done that, got the tee-shirt. We don't want to hear (again) how grand love is. This year it’s all about the substantial stimulation of superficial senses or lack thereof. I don't want to think anymore. Party on!

Yep, I'm ready for some street walkin’ and jive talkin’, and if the governor refused money that would have allowed all Louisianans health care...so what. I've worked without health benefits for years; what did I do? I didn't get sick, and if I did and lost my job...well. As that last president pointed out, “That's why we have emergency rooms.” Listen, I have a friend and when he got mugged, he received the best care in the world. What's all this about “preventative care”? Shoot, take care of it when it happens and stop being such babies!

I've got some costuming to get together big-time and some parading to get my fill of. Should I be worrying about equal pay for women, or marriage equality for the LGBT community, or that 1% of the population controls 43% of this country’s wealth? Pass me another funny-colored drink.

What about my smoking? I've got a right to kill myself if I want to and, sure, I know it will eventually. And so I flip my butts into the street; they’re biodegradable, ain’t they? Besides, we have street sweepers out here from four in the morning until ten at night; give ’em something to do, I say.

It’s Carnival time and I’m going to have a light heart and a cheerful countenance.

Recycle? Too much trouble. Pick up my dog’s sh*t? What do you take me for, a garbage man? I have enough to do getting a good seat in time for the game. And then there’s mischief to be up to and that hottie who waits on tables (I think she digs me); I've got to look my best; text me and we’ll hook up. Hey, did you see that that chick with the PETA petition? You want to talk pork chops, honey? Haw, haw, haw! I'm not against animal rights or anything (they do have some, don’t they?); heck, I've never met a fried chicken that I didn't like.

Now, what do you know? Education just took a badass cut from the people who give money to the oil industry; ah, what the hell, you don’t need much learnin’ if you’re gonna push a broom, right?

I've been told to watch my diet, get exercise, cut down on my drinking and pay attention to my blood pressure and cholesterol intake; but, you know, later gator, we’re here to have a good time, you know? February in New Orleans is the best: not too hot and hopefully not too cold and it's five o’clock somewhere! Woo hoo!

Personally, I've had enough of caring about what other people do or don’t do; if you want things to get better, if you want love, equality, understanding and/or justice to prevail...go ahead, make it happen. The world is not changing for the better and you know it; I know it. Babies are born, loved ones die, people suffer, hearts are broken and mended. Or not. This season, it's all about me and the King cake baby! I’ve been hitting my head against what is clearly a stone wall, defending right over might, and what has it got me? Lumps.

And while we're on the subject, I don't want to know about another of our people in uniform getting hurt in a war that’s all about some fat cat’s greed. Or another politician who’s been caught with his pants down, or with his hand in the till or up somebody’s skirt. I don’t want to hear about another home invasion, police brutality, homelessness or your pothole-riddled streets. Planned Parenthood is on the ropes? Your fault, not mine. I'm taking this year off from caring. I've had enough. You need help? Try the Lone Ranger. I’m out on the town! Gone pecan!

If your car runs like an old tin can, your wife ran off with another man, you’ve sprained a muscle in your fishin’ hand and your income tax is due, don't tell me. It’s Carnival time and I’m going to have a light heart and a cheerful countenance or know the reason why not. Come Lent, I may repent, but right now I'm goin’ for comfortably numb. 

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