Wal-Martians

So, I went to Wal-Mart today with RxMan in order to get groceries and supplies to make cupcakes for Her Highness's classroom party on Thursday. We got our stuff with little trouble except there were about 3 million others in there preparing for the snow (which my husband calls the White Death because people here freak out about it) that is approaching.

As we were leaving, $134 poorer, I might add, I looked into the photo studio and was surprised to see a flag much like this one hanging as a backdrop (I tried to take a photo with my phone but it was removed too quickly):



Now, I have problems with this flag on a number of levels. Of course, I am against all that the Confederacy stood for; that is a given. I think displays such as this are as ignorant and distasteful as swastikas. Furthermore, the idea of the south actually being restored to its former "glory" is especially unlikely with Obama chomping up the delegates as he is. Yeah.

That being said, I have another problem with this.

I live in Ohio.

The only places we are southern of are Cleveland and Canada. Seriously. I live on the edge of Appalachia, it's true, but I didn't realize that our school systems were so badly educating our citizens. We may say "pop" instead of soda but many of us do no sum geografy.

I think that in my area, particularly, this flag is seen as a symbol of being a rebel. Or a redneck. (Yes, this is sort of cool amongst a segment of the population around these parts.) I see it as just another sign of stupidity. And where best to display this in a family portrait taken by the fine folks at Wal-Mart. Oh, had I not mentioned it was a family shoot? Yep. Mom, Dad, and two fine looking androgynous children, sporting mullets and camo. Daggum.

After I ran to the restroom to avoid peeing my pants from laughing so hard, we went on to the car. As we were unloading our rather skimpy loot (that cost $134!), a tiny, fragile elderly man approached a car two spots down from ours. I wouldn't have noticed him except that he began shouting- and I do mean SHOUTING- the f-bomb about his g-d car.

This slight little wisp of a man had the mouth of Howard Stern and was beating the living h-e-double hockey sticks out of his effin' car, which apparently his effin' wife had locked the effin' doors for the 11th effin' time this g-d day. I busted up laughing- again. He heard me and knew it was about him, which only effin' enraged him more.

Then, as he was zooming out of the effin' parking lot, he honked the effin' horn and gave me the finger.

You just never know what you're gonna see at Wal-Mart.