Coonridge Digest: Absolutely sure of everything?

Greetin’s from the Ridge.

I feel like I’m at that summer camp oh so many years ago. I was dumped off in the middle of what felt like nowhere for a week of Bible camp. Didn’t know a soul.

I went to my cabin, plopped down on the bunk and spent the next few days wondering if there was anyone like me in the universe. The camp did have a happy ending: I eventually went home on the final day.

I sit listening to the talking heads on television and radio and think that I must be the oddest little camper in the universe.

Last night was typical. CNN featured four grown men shouting at each other like little children. Each man was loud, each man was fully bloated with his own truth, and each man assumed the others to be fools. Not a single member of the angry panel had the slightest doubt about his own opinion. Heck, I don’t even remember all the issues they we shouting about, but I do know that I hadn’t made up my mind on any of them. Felt like I was back sitting on my bunk at camp.

As I drove to the ballgame that night I turned on the radio and heard more screaming. Talk radio is chockfull of screamers. I’ve yet to hear a single talk show host mouth the words, "Well, I really don’t know," or "You know, I’m still trying to make up my mind on that one." I swear that when some of the Limbaugh’s and Franken’s of the world were born, the doctor slapped their opinionated little butts and they loudly started making judgments on the nursing staff.

What must it be like to be absolutely sure of everything? Herb and I used to pick up Joyce and Delbert Wiggs every Friday night and we’d toodle off to some nice restaurant. In fact, we did this until I just couldn’t stand it any longer. Joyce got so she’d publicly and loudly pronounce judgments on everything that hit her dinner plate. Joyce had an opinion about Ranch dressing. How can you have an opinion about Ranch dressing? I mean, isn’t it a good deal like the Ranch dressing you had at the same restaurant the week before?

The more I listen to the official voices of the world, the more I feel like the lonely camper. Maybe it’s a sign of timidity or worse yet, stupidity, but there are just a whole raft of things on which I haven’t made up my mind and it’s getting so I feel like a fool for being so undecided.

Gay rights, capital punishment, political candidates, the war in Iraq, our response to terrorism while maintaining civil liberties, the economy, TV sex and violence, Herb’s love of polyester pants….the really big issues of the world. Aren’t there two sides to these things and if there are, is there a soul in the media who’s as confused as I am?

Sitting on my bunk at camp I heard the voices outside. Some were gleefully declaring the camp to be the best thing since sanctified peanut butter, others openly cried about missing their mommies, the counselors shouted the glories of swimming, volleyball, homemade leather bookmarks and salvation in Jesus Christ at the top of their lungs, and the camp cook was on a five-day tirade about silverware mistakenly tossed into the trash receptacles. I was the loner. I hadn’t made up my mind about any of these things.

Maybe a talk show hosted by someone who didn’t know all the answers would be a miserable failure in the ratings. Maybe we’re not looking for answers, but merely entertainment. But dern, at least I wouldn’t feel so lonely.

Reminds me of the old Vaudeville routine.

"Are you sure?"

"I’m positive!"

"That’s ridiculous! Only an idiot says he’s positive!"

"Are you sure?"

"I’m positive!"

I doubt that anytime soon I’ll be asked to host a new NBC talk show called, "Gosh, there seem to be two sides to this issues and I really haven’t made up my mind yet." But if you’ve got a inclination to do so, please let me. I’m tired of being the lonely camper.

You ever in Coonridge, stop by…. If you want to… You really don’t have to… We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip… I think… I mean, I’m really not sure…