I’m an angry 71-year-old white guy. There are millions more angry white guys of all generations and now we have our own President of the United States.
We don’t refer to him as POTUS, either, because we don’t believe in that social media acronym nonsense. He’s going to be Mr. President, plain and simple, so get used to it.
I don’t know why those other millions of white guys who went to the polls Tuesday are angry, but I have some very good reasons for my own.
The No. 1 source of my rage at the moment is that several months ago the dunces in charge of Golden Valley closed off the busy street a block west of our house, sending rush hour-worthy traffic winding through our leafy neighborhood all day long.
The dunces put up a sign 10 yards after the turn, reading “No Through Traffic,’’ but seeing city buses running up and down the street might indicate to vehicle drivers that the sign is a bluff.
They are doing this for a roundabout on the other block. We fought the British 2 ½ centuries ago so we didn’t have to have roundabouts.
That’s not all I’m angry about. Bike lanes make me angry, especially when we turn a perfectly fine two-lane side of a busy street into one lane and then put up sticks so drivers can’t use the right-hand lane when unoccupied.
Who died and made these dorks in the stupid helmets royalty? Bernie Sanders didn’t even make it out of the primary, so get off the road and make room for the white guys in the big trucks.
I’m also angry that Michele Kelm-Helgen and the other Vikings stooges on the stadium authority weren’t satisfied to sign off on a complete in-stadium giveaway to Zygi Wilf and the entire Wilf family for the new dome.
They also have included the surrounding area. We found out this in the Star Tribune a few days ago:
Kelm-Helgen gave away the Minneapolis’ half of a Mills Fleet Farm sponsorship of a publicly constructed parking ramp. Her excuse was the Vikings had contributed several million to stadium improvements — all benefiting the Vikings and for which the team had taken earlier bows.
I’m not even a Minneapolis taxpayer and I’m angry about the way the city has gotten pilfered on the Taj Ma Zygi.
Speaking of the Vikings, how can we white guys not be angry after the Vikings auditioned six kickers to replace Blair Walsh on Tuesday and the hook shot artist still has a job?
There was a strong suspicion the tryout was a fraud — that General Manager Rick Spielman’s sizable ego would not allow him to admit a mistake on a kicker he drafted and also signed to a contract extension — and Walsh’s retention was confirmed a few hours before we angry white guys started to put the No. 1 swing state, Florida, in the GOP column.
I’m angry about Florida, too. We bought a small condo in the jungle near the Twins’ spring home a couple of years ago. Made our first fall visit last month and there were these tiny, extra-slow worms slipping in under the door from the shrubbery in front.
They get inside and die, and turn into these little crispy things. I mean, it’s Florida, so it could be worse with a gator, a python or a wild hog, but who wants to have the bride shrieking after stepping on a worm krispie in the morning?
That’s another reason I went to my Golden Valley polling station angry Tuesday — tiny worms in Florida.
Right away, I saw a vivid example of the lax voting rules in Minnesota, where you can register basically on the word of another person. This couple in their 30s was entering the building behind me and the woman asked, “What is voting; what should I do after they give me the paper?’’
These people, they come from who knows where and … oh, wait, it was a white couple with Minnesota accents, so never mind.
This is what got me angry again Wednesday morning:
I stopped at a convenience store and another place of business on the way to work. First, a man and then a woman behind the counters, they saw an old white guy and gave me a look that said, “Yeah, you’re one of ’em,’’ and then neither offered the traditional “Have a good one’’ as I left.
Hey, why are you mad at me? I’m old, white and angry, but vote for this guy … come on.