I am not one who believes that my genetics will determine my destiny.  Nor am I one that believes that my genetics should determine my political party.  Being from a decidedly multiracial background (though this was at one time a closely guarded secret in my family), I feel no political pull toward one party or the other based on my genetics.

I do feel a pull based on how I was raised.  As a teenager, I was decidedly a Democrat with a big "D", mainly to get under the skin of my dad who was a Republican with a big "R".  Even so, I voted for Reagan and was in AFROTC, and married my high school sweetheart instead of just living with him and fucking everyone in the freshman class at the University of Arizona as seemed to be the norm.

I have given up classifying myself as a conservative Republican.  More of an Independent.  Meaning, I don't vote straight ticket.  (Such as, if given the choice between the current Brazoria County Tax Assessor and a dead roadkill armadillo, I would pick the armadillo with joy in my heart.  After all, the armadillo didn't jump my taxes from about $550 per year to about $3400 in one year.)  I am still a Reagan Republican.  But what Reagan and my dad stood for just seems to have been forgotten somewhere along the way.

I am not even sure if I can vote this coming election.  Though registered in Brazoria County, we live in Grimes County now.  I will have to call and ask on Monday.  It didn't even come up until a few hours ago.  If we can't, we will be sure to get it fixed before any other elections.

If we can't vote in these elections, it will make me feel sick.  Voting has always been an important perk of being an American.  So many have died to give us this gift; it would really hurt to have forgotten my part of the bargain.  It would feel like I let my youngest down, who is in the Army now, my oldest, who is working OT to pay on her mortgage on the American Dream, and my middle child, who, in her last semester (with a near perfect GPA in the Honors College at UH with Dual Majors in Economics and Communications), is trying to sign up with the Marines for OCS.  It would feel like I failed them, if I forgot to fill in a stupid piece of paper and forgot to get my registration changed so I could vote. 

True, I just moved.  But that is just an excuse.

Ever drive behind a total loon?  Someone you think might have just slipped their straight jacket and taken to the road?  That's the kind of dude I got stuck behind last night.

Ron and I went down to Alvin to pick up the Volvo.  I was in the Crown Vic, Ron was ahead of me in the Volvo.  As we pulled out of the Pilot Truck Stop outside of Huntsville on to 75, a guy got between us.  He was driving a grayish Nisson truck thing with a dent across the tailgate.

This dude was driving 35 mph in a 65 at night zone.  When I would try to pass him, he would get in the middle of the road.  Twice he waved something at me the looked very much like a hand gun.  And this was all before the turn off to FM 1696.

Once we got to FM 1696, Ron, who couldn't figure out what in heck was going on, had pulled off at the little feedstore/gas station place there and had waited for me.  He waved me on to turn in front of him, not realizing I really would have preferred to have stopped and told him the guy in front of me was either drunk, stoned, or off his meds.

So I turn left on to FM 1696.  The guy has gone down the road a bit, and I catch up to him, but stay a good 100 yards back off of him.  He slams on his brakes, and I get about thirty feet away.  At which point, I stop.  Then he starts up again, going about 25 mph.  Ronald is by this time getting very angry with me. 

The idiot in front slams on his brakes a few more times, but I am pretty far back away from him and never approach his car (I have to wonder just what in hell he was trying to pull). I was keeping a good ten car lengths between me and him. Honestly, by that point, I was completely freaked.  I slowed way down, and when the creep went around a corner in front of me and couldn't see me, I pulled to the side of the road.

Ronald pulled up behind me, pissed off as all hell at me.  I told him what had been going on, and he got even more pissed off, but at the weirdo.  He said he would get in front.  So he did. 

He sped right up to the guy, pulled to the side, to which the guy slammed on his brakes at Ronald.  (The guy was going about 30 mph in a 65 mph at night zone still.)  But the old Volvo handles pretty well and Ron just didn't give.  I came up behind both of them, and while the guy was trying to harass Ron, I passed both of them.  Then the guy sped up to chase me, but that gave Ron an opening to pass the guy, and he did.  And both Ronald and I got the hell out of there.

What would that kind of behavior be called?  Passive-aggressive road rage?  It was one of the weirdest experiences I have ever had on the road, and scarier than any car accident I have ever been in (and I have been in some bad ones).

PS> Before anyone asks why we didn't call the cops, there is limited cellphone connection in the area.