The War

It is mid-summer in Southern California. The morning coastal fog doesn’t burn off until about 10 AM. Comic-Con starts this week and there are no tickets available (not that I would go, but I digress).  This entry is about the war that has been going on for more than five years. It is a war that has taken a personal and financial toll on me. They are terrorists and I personally know the harm they can do. I do not care that they, as some of liberal bent might argue, are right to call me and mine, the terrorist. All I know is that they are dangerous and no expense will be spared to make them history.

They …they are the gophers in my backyard.
It is a battle for dominance which has been going on for half a decade. I have technology on my side and have modified my rules of engagement based upon their battle strategy.  In the beginning, I attempted to win their hearts and minds by trapping the little rodents and re-locating them (my neighbor’s swimming pool was considered and rejected). This act of kindness was rewarded with, you guessed it, more gophers and destruction in my backyard.

It was clear that a surge of force was necessary to restore order to what had become an unsightly and embarrassing mess in my garden. My wife suggested that the escalation of effort would not be necessary had I left the gophers alone in the first place. After all, it wasn’t her garden and the nearest gopher tunnel was 60 feet from the house. I had to remind her that it was better to fight these animals on their territory at the time of my choosing rather than finding them invading our living space.  She threw her arms in the air and suggested that I must have been dropped on my head when I was little because according to her I was not operating on all cylinders. 

She, of course, was wrong. And it was clear that I would have no allies in this action and must go forward alone.   Unlike hers, my vision was clear.  She simply did not understand that force, when used, must massive, unrelenting and devastating.  Half-ass force can get you all the way killed as we used to say in the Marine Corps.  I knew what I had to do. I had to raise the level of violence to a point that made it untenable for the gophers to remain. 

At first, during the surge I used poison bait, then death traps, but the gophers kept on coming. I have, since,  resorted to using poison gas and I am now able to report that I can see some progress. It appears that my surge is working. The gophers appear to be on the run. Sadly, the cost of conducting this war has taken a toll on my economic state of being. Funds used to wage this war cannot be used to raise my standard of living or improve my education or give me access to better health care.  I also find myself in the position of trying to prove a negative. The only way I will know that I have won this war will be by the absence of gophers in my backyard. Yes that means exactly what you think it means. I win because something doesn’t happen.

But I’m going to stay the course because I’ve invested too much in defeating the gophers and I know once I stop my efforts; the gophers will invade my home and destroy my way of life. Death to the gophers and God bless America.