Fighting Depression One Toilet at a Time

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Lately I've been fighting depression. Well, not really.

My job situation isn't the best, but a helluva lot of people have it worse, so I'm not really fighting depression, more like Having an Argument with depression every once in a while. And every once in a while things just add up to make a real good case for being depressed.

Not the real shit, like last month when my sister Donna died. That shit would depress the Good Humor Man, for Christ's sake. But the little things that just bum you out. Like the billboard parade this morning.

I'm driving north on I-57 between job sites, and I'm getting paid for windshield-time. So far so good. I spot a cute kid on a billboard just north of 147th Street. Smiley little shit with a knit cap. He seems to be wearing motorcycle-gang colors, and the copy over his head reads "BORN TO DIE."

WTF?

In smaller letters -- probably only as big as my truck -- it says "Arms and limbs form in the first six weeks..." Aw shit, it's an anti-abortion message. Not the thing I want to think about on a day as nice as today.

Next billboard is a clever one. A view of a rear-view mirror, with some teenager holding a sign that reads "Let's go for ice cream after you paralyze us!"

Jesus, I'm behaving! I'm doing the speed limit! But, of course, I have three youngsters to think about -- one with a wife and a baby -- and they could be driving recklessly this very second. So now I've got THAT to think about...

Next sign points me to a great hospital that does Hip and Knee replacements. Nice. I'm not feeling too old already, worrying about my adult children, now hit me with that crap.

After the 1-800-Quit-Now billboard, reminding me about how many people die from lung cancer every year, here comes the Debt Erase offer. Hmmmm... after the paralyzing car accident and the hip and knee replacement, I may need that number. Damn, dude, I just turned off the news radio station two minutes ago because they wouldn't quit yakking about Insurance Reform. Now I'm thinking that if the economy doesn't pick up... and I still have a mortgage and a shitload of education loans to cover...

OK, I have a good sturdy rope in the truck. So I'm thinking about where's the nearest park with a good strong low-hangin' limb when this asshole-with-a-death-wish cuts me off from the right lane on a red motorcycle. Close enough for me to flinch and hit the brakes -- just after the nick of time -- and call him a dick. He wasn't going real fast, and traffic was slowing down, so I caught up with him. He was an older black feller, wearing a leather vest, and I read something about Riding for Christ on the back. "Riding for shit," was my mental response, then I quickly apologized to God in case he misinterpreted my meaning on that one... I'd hate for that fleeting thought to be the "tip in" that sends me where I might be going anyway.

Anyway, my mood lightened right up when I spotted a huge billboard for some new kinda toilet: "Traffic backed up? This baby won't!"

I Love it! A toilet billboard! Maybe this weekend, me and Robin can road-trip up to Wisconsin and score us a nice new shitter in slate blue. On the way home we can stop at Conejito's in Milwaukee, load up on beef-and-bean burritos, and test that baby out on Sunday morning! Now you're talking... fuck suicide, I have a toilet to try and clog up!

It is so nice to have something to live for. Now all I have to do is get Robin to go along with my new weekend plan! Wish me luck!