Then a month or two prior to the April election day, the Red Red Robin as in Rob and even Bob came bob, bob bobbin’ along (again). And we’re not just talking about the thrush that has now been seen as its springtime. Local candidates proliferated almost by the day as March Madness set in, and the polls beckoned.

What About Bob for the Board of Education? Or Rob? As in Bob B, or Rob B? And a few other intro letters in combo as Joe is milking a joke again. With a few exceptions aided by the pandemic, prompting use of both buzz words and one like “metrics,” they and their stances might seem one and the same, as it could be seen as all about either Bob, as their signs were out all over yards and ditches early-on. Others soon followed with their takes, first other School Board candidates, then some village and city trustee candidates, then hopefuls for state superintendent of public instruction and lastly, a couple more trustees in waiting.
As seemed to be dictated by how close proximity the signs were placed, there were some with web site names you could log onto that literally bordered on 100 characters. That’s much more than three classrooms worth of sniffly kids to reach.
And then there was that wind (of change?) on consecutive days that not only blew some signs down, especially on The Morning After, and after that, but also wrapped them around each other if all on the same pike. And with the laws that now dictate how long you can keep a sign up, many were still up and running well into Wednesday, and one in the tiny front of That Little Old House On Monroe Street remained in place even well after that. And furthermore, and further into the week, you could still see those gaggle of signs on the corner by that old store name called Freedom (of speach?), half hawking hopefuls and half specific-niche businesses, (lobbying potential?) Half had soon blown down as the wind had shifted, so to speak.
But on days before, there were men from Mars, women from Venus — and candidates of both genders on Pluto! That’s where a coalition who were, jointly, advertising their merits on that new cable channel. One who I will not name was a downtown-friendly person to a degree, if you get my drift, at least back in the day. Before election day
And this latest election day was showing promise to Be Big On The Turnout, riding on the coattails of a presidential campaign that set a new lack of boundaries, from here to the Boundary Waters and beyond, so the observing pole sitters, and I’m were there were a few, were in a position to get a form of “exercise” that found them getting more squat.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...
Hey today they threw it all back to you, as it is election day, and with it the last Badger gasp — if least if they’re our candidates — (is that the throaty noise they make?), with a soar-throated, campaign-trail rasp made by an audio-version plethora of last-minute flyers that fill our boxes with hopes to grasp, so we can check their boxes when we go to the polls and pick a (partial) winner to move on to full November midterms. Less then the Trump-triumphed manhandling our mailboxes got however, in the last election of this type. Those worn, creaking...
Scroll to Top