Bootstraps

Whoa! Good golly! I have to apologize profusely to my fan for not checking back here in a while, but I've really had quite a tremendous oddysey. You see, I was told that hurricane season ended on November 30, but I heard that there was a hurricane out somewhere in the Atlantic in Janu-effing-ary, and I got all scurred and hid under a rock for the better part of the last month.

During that time, I did a lot of reflecting. I've been hearing that, rather than requesting federal aid for hurricane relief, those of us in the New Orleans area should pull ourselves up by the bootstraps. It sadly dawned on me that I did not own any bootstraps, mostly because any attempt to wear a boot would likely result in my untimely asphyxiation. But then I remembered that, indeed, I could just buy a pair of boots, rip the bootstraps off of them, use them to lift myself, and thus save New Orleans.

Soon, the girlfriend (my lovely Denise) and I were whisked away on a shopping spree! Yes, I went boot shopping. After stopping at Boots Aplenty, Boots R Us, Getting the Boot, and Boot Chute, I finally found what I needed at Booty Call. They were perfect brown suede boots, with detachable bootstraps specially built for use by those trying to avoid federal government assistance for pulling-up purposes.

When I got home, I could hardly wait to try them out! First, I joyfully ripped the bootstraps off. Lying beside them, I reached over to grab them. On the count of 3, with a mighty grunt, I picked them up. It was with some dismay that I realized inanimate objects that weigh almost nothing cannot be used for leverage, and I fell splat right on a prong, injuring it somewhat. Denise decided to help out, holding the bootstraps out in front of her while I grabbed them and lifted myself up. At last, I had done it!

Eagerly, joyously, I raced outside and immediately drove into New Orleans proper, ready to bask in the glow of complete hurricane recovery. Instead, I found nothing new. Same old devastation, no traffic lights or street lights, et cetera. Finding this very confusing, I trudged back home wondering what I did wrong. Was it that Denise held the bootstraps while I lifted myself up? Was this improper bootstrap protocol? Given my limitations, there was really no other way for me to accompish this, so I hope not.

It sure would be nice to see old New Orleans back on its feet, but apparently I have a lot to learn about bootstraps before that can happen. I hope I can figure it out before it's too late.