Essentially Ashland: By Lance K. Pugh

I was pretty much on top of the election results on Tuesday night, watching television, surfing the Web, listening to National Public Radio, all while trying to knock out a few articles to keep my hopper of ideas brim full.

It was working quite well until the satellite TV went south, due to two frisky raccoons that enjoy snuggling up in front of the dish when engaged in amorous activities. In a flash the national coverage was reduced to a snowy picture of two ring-tailed bandits engaged in some sort of back-scratching until jumping, in unison, on to and swinging from the coaxial cable that shepherds my Internet signal. In a puff my laptop only displayed an ancient version of Pac-Man, then reverted to a slow-motion version of Pong, both games so old that you need a hair cut and a bath immediately after watching either one of them.

I was down to NPR when a power outage slapped my house. I picked up my cell phone to report the event, but it could not find a signal. As a last resort I went to my land line, which I haven't used in months, only to find that the dial tone had apparently eloped with the satellite TV signal and was probably flailing at some distant piñata while tequila was being poured like Niagara Falls.

I sat back and thought that the lack of any factual information has not deterred our foreign policy of pre-emptive war, spying on citizens, sanctioned torture and any other of hundreds of criminal behaviors on behalf of our soon-to-be-shown-the-door cabal, so I printed this column by hand and delivered it in the back of a one-ton, four-wheel drive truck that physically repels scooters, skateboards, Segways and bicycles like a 240-volt bug light on a dark, warm summer's night.

Based on the last best information that I had until all my technology joined a conga line and samba danced south, I offer the following:

Obama was arrested by Dick Cheney's personal Praetorian Guard and placed in protective custody somewhere between the beltway and a wedgie, though I do not truly understand the implications.

McCain was held under house arrest in one of his many homes, though with the drapes closed there is very little chance that he will ever realize where he is or how Cheney, again, accomplished the matter.

Palin was released into a polar bear refuge with the hope that her bright-red outfit might offer some protection against the harsh environment and unforgiving legacy of field dressing animals with a letter opener.

Biden was led away to a dental clinic, there to be studied by future practitioners of teeth whitening.

I further offer that some red states voted to re-open their libraries while some blue states made it mandatory that people pull off the freeway and take a five-minute walk every 250 miles.

Imagine, if you can, my surprise upon waking up this morning to find out that my predictions were somewhat off.

The satellite dish was no more a convenient motel, as the two little rascals found more comfortable quarters. The laptop is back online, except I still have to enter every letter with either an elbow or a heel. NPR is sounding great, though all the commentators now speak with a distinct Minnesotan accent.

Obama (thank you, thank you, thank you) is now our president-elect, while Biden is still flashing all white, though off the nitrous oxide. McCain eventually found the security alarm in his house and was extracted without incident. Palin ditched the red rags, lowered the bee-hive and snow machined to an undisclosed location, where Cheney shoots caged geese underground.

As for George W. Bush, well Barbara grounded him until he finishes reading his little goat book, which might take quite some time.

Lance@journalist.com was last seen cart wheeling through the leaves in his side yard, which, mysteriously, have again piled up to waist level.