Cover Up – Rosie Sorenson

I have finally found the answer to life’s most persistent questions. Here’s how it happened.
Last week I was listening to the radio, half-listening, really, until I heard a commercial from Orchard Supply Hardware announcing an awesome sale on blue tarps. “If you’re looking for a solution to that pile of junk in your garage,” said the announcer in his deep baritone, “look no further than a blue tarp—now on sale at OSH. If you’re needing to cover up that unsightly unfinished patio project, why, a blue tarp is your best friend. Come on down today!”
So that’s the answer. Blue tarps! Who knew? Just think of all the problems we could solve with a blue tarp! Take Sarah Palin, for instance. One minute, she’s the darling of the right-wing Republicans, and the next, she’s their worst nightmare who has no intention of quietly going away. What’s a frustrated Republican operative to do? Why, dash over to OSH, buy some blue tarps, and voila—problem solved! As they say, “Under tarp, out of mind.”
“What’s underneath that blue cover?” you ask. Why, nothing—just move along. But, you swear you hear groaning? Better adjust your meds, my friend.
If it could work for her, just think what it could do for, say, Iraq. Might cost a few million dollars to stitch a gazillion tarps together, but, hey, it sure as heck wouldn’t cost more than the $12 billion per month we’re already spending. And, it would do wonders for our sewing industry, provided we didn’t outsource it to Halliburton. When asked about that unending sea of blue in the Middle East, we could just say that it’s our new surge protector.
Now then, on to Iran. Don’t you think Ahmadinejad would look swell in blue? Maybe a tarp with a scalloped hemline just to remind others of how special he really is. And let’s not forget North Korea—why not just slap a blue tarp over that Kim Jun Il fellow—presto, change-o, no problem-o!
What about those smart folks on Wall Street who have brought us a new tune—“Give-Us-That-Old-Time Depression?” Blue tarps for all, but not before we take back the trillion dollars they finageled out of Congress.
Okay, so now that we’ve solved some of our pesky political problems, let’s look at a few additional uses for those wonderful blue tarps—how about Paris Hilton? Or maternity-looking tops for non-pregnant women? Baggy, butt-crack-revealing pants for teens? Bottled water, Hummers, health insurance companies? Simon Cowell, Reality Television, and Martha Stewart?
I mention Martha Stewart because I believe she has flown under the radar of domestic terrorism for too long and I’d like to see her punished—oh, nothing harsh, really, just dip her in flour and roast her slowly in a 325-degree oven until she forgets everything she knows about using Chanel pantyhose to tie up rose bushes. (Just as I write this, of course, my partner Steve hollers out to me that I’m burning the pasta, yet again! Thus, my fear and loathing of Martha—she’s everything I am not and don’t want to be, but think I should be and I hate that.)
I am not now, nor have I ever been a domestic goddess. Those cooking classes I took as a teenager in 4-H didn’t stick. And sewing? Egads! The one blue and white checkered chemise I made (with LOTS of help from my mother) not only failed to win a prize at the Henry County Fair, it didn’t even fit. My housekeeping skills can best be described as “casual.” Ditto for filing systems. System? You mean people have “systems”? I kinda sorta know where some things are, like my computer and printer, but the rest gets kind of hazy. Even when I spend hours tidying up my office it still looks like a monkey went mad in there. I don’t know why I even bother.
Come to think of it, why not just toss a blue tarp over my entire house? Under tarp, out of mind.
* * *
Rosie Sorenson is an award-wining writer whose work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, and other publications. Her new photo essay book, They Had Me at Meow: Tails of Love from the Homeless Cats of Buster Hollow, is about her thirteen years of loving and being loved by a colony of smart, funny feral cats. To learn more and to purchase the book, please visit her website: www.theyhadmeatmeow.com.