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  • This morning I checked the date on the calendar in the kitchen and saw in small type: "March 11, 2011 Wisconsin Gov. Walker signs anti-union bill into law. Right-wing, anti-worker bill awakens broad opposition movement. (see May)"
    Oh, Governor Walker what broad opposition! You've heard it all already: the chants outside your home, slurs, successful (yours) and unsuccessful recall petitions, folks dumping beer on each other and malice.

    In my home we have the same thing. Two "progressives" and one "conservative-leaning independent" living together and passing the salt at dinner. Every week your smug mug comes to our home in the form of one of your cod-fish-sized election propaganda pamphlets addressed to my Mom. Mom gags. "Why is the Republican Party sending me these? Glossy, black and look at that you can't even re-cycle them." They'll have to line the bottom of the finches cage along with the sports section.

    Oh oh! Michael Moore is on the radio so my Dad has to growl and turn it off, and my Mom has to go and turn the interview back on. "There was a time Bill, when you liked what that man had to say." On/off/on/off/on/off. We broke the button and are forced to use a remote from now on.

    But you can't turn it off because "It's working Wisconsin" Scott states in the TV ad in the kitchen. "It's working Wisconsin" Mom repeats in accentuated Scott-style nasal.

    It's working to make my Dad say the word "Liberal" like the word "Venereal Disease." Not that I've ever heard him say the latter, but I've heard them say both words in close relation on the AM radio station that he listens to in the basement far away from the women.

    -Stop The Attack On Wisconsin Families- What's Disgusting? Union Busting!-
    Family Unions, the only unions of strength and power we have left?

    Last year I was still adjusting to my move back to Wisconsin after many years away when I took this picture in Madison. Notice the tubas. Notice the snow. The tubas and cymbals and brass band played polka music into the loudspeaker for ?300,000? people that day. I rolled out the barrel. I did the chicken dance with several primary school teachers, firefighters and concerned citizens of Wisconsin. Afterwards I was Wisconsin. No more of that lonesome gypsy hobo romance in my head.

    But when I got home Dad didn't want to hear about it, about how Peter Yarrow sang "Which Side Are You on?" or how I thought Mr. Yarrow's red blazer jacket was not warm enough for the blizzard. The Union Busting was already underway.
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