Hush, Limbaugh
Once upon a time I had the opportunity to listen to a motivational speaker, a man hired to inspire a company’s workforce to come up with new ways to cut costs, improve efficiencies and increase profits. Part of his presentation dealt with the idea that often, we don’t know the water we’re swimming in. In other words, we can’t see our lives for what they really are; often a collection of bad habits and behaviors that only a step back or fresh eyes can detect.
Now, I’m not a political groupie, I don’t read much beyond the headlines, and although I’ve heard of Rush Limbaugh and know who he is, I’ve never listened to him on the radio. But recently, I caught his keynote address to CPAC, the Conservative Political Action Conference, and found myself swimming in strange waters indeed.
A fairly stout man, he dressed all in black, a combination Johnny Cash\Darth Vader meets Hoss Cartwright; and he stood there, I thought, preaching to the converted with a palpable, inflated sense of self-worth. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem witty or wise, but lowbrow and crude, nonetheless basking in sycophantic glory while the cheers of his faithful rained down. He “imitated” the President and all his supporters, speaking once like an aristocratic Brit and once with a lisp; the idea, I suppose, that Democrats are either pompous or gay. Either way, the CPAC mob ate it up, just a snippet, I gather, as to why the Grand Old Party’s in shambles.
After a particularly smarmy comment, he’d do a strange thing, kind of a chest-level high-five\black power salute with some toady supporters sharing the stage. The problem though, is Limbaugh’s not black. He’s not a teenager or a jock and he’s not from the hood. He’s just some fat, un-cool mouthpiece with his finger on the kill switch; the type who always gets in the last word . . .then tells everyone how fair and open-minded he is.
Anyway . . .
They say everything important you learned in Kindergarten and one thing I’ve learned is to avoid people like Rush Hudson Limbaugh III. He sounded like a bigot and acted like a bully, the biggest lout in the room egged on by his “friends”; hard-core Conservatives treating him like a rock star, despite his comments and behavior. To me, though, an outsider looking in, he was more like The Drake. You know, the popular guy on Seinfeld who was only popular because everybody said he was? Then it turned out he wasn’t.
And maybe Limbaugh isn’t either, at least in the true sense of the word. See, I know he’s been honored as the highest-paid/highest-rated man on U.S. radio. He’s in the Radio Hall of Fame and regarded, by some, as the greatest talk show host of all time. But despite all his accolades, 62% in a survey reported an unfavorable opinion of him. No kidding; just ask his three ex-wives.
In much the same way, many regard Don Cherry, Canada’s famous hockey bigot, as one of that country’s great citizens too. So what? People gawk at crash sites. Doesn’t make them popular . . . or correct, right or just.
Years ago, my father and I sat in a parked car, waiting to unload a truck that had been delayed by a snowstorm. My dad looked out at the blizzard and said, “You know, if aliens landed here they’d take one look around and get the hell out.” Watching the CPA Conference, I felt the same way. I remembered that motivational speaker and found myself thinking: if Limbaugh’s your rock star, you not only don’t know the water you’re swimming in, you’re messed.
I logged off the convention, exercising a kill switch of my own. Hush, Limbaugh.
Better yet, shut up.
ScreamBucket 
Excellent. This Weber fellow should be paid big bucks for this big stuff.
Frank (Canada)
He is. And he has the primo parking spot for his scooter, and his own stapler. We are all trying to kill him.