The $7 Dollar Margarita

I almost called June to provide instructions to read this and then I changed my mind.

Decided I needed to try and double my workouts so I hit the gym twice today and got lost in what some people might call angrier music.

Made a mental note to check what my kids are listening to because some of what I will put on isn’t appropriate for them.

The thing is I will move from something that people call angry or has questionable lyrics to something soft and easy without a second thought but I know who I am.

I know what I am about and what drives me and have the maturity to manage it. I want them to gain a little bit of life experience before they move into some of this. Can’t guarantee that is how it will go, but it might.


We went out to dinner tonight to celebrate dad’s birthday and I feasted upon a steak and a $7 dollar Margarita and talked about the sermon our rabbi gave back home.

It raised a ruckus and debate because he didn’t hold back and he labeled POTUS as being toxic. I applaud him for it as many would avoid taking the risk he did.

I am grateful and appreciative because there are moments where you must speak out or accept you fell short of your responsibility and obligation to fight for a better world.

You Should Write

I found a couple of rejection letters from people who said they don’t think my writing is strong enough to be a professional writer.

It reminded me of high school when I was told I wasn’t good enough to be in the AP English class and how during my senior year a couple of teachers asked me why the Editor-in-Chief of our high school newspaper was in a regular English class.

Thirty-one years later I don’t care about having missed out on being a part of that AP English class. It didn’t stop me from becoming Editor-In-Chief of my college newspaper or having been paid to write post college.

It is not my where I make my money now. No one talks about Thomas Friedman, George Will and Josh Wilner’s columns.

Given current circumstances it doesn’t look like that is going to change any time soon, but I never say never.

If you ask for an honest assessment I don’t think I am there yet. I have work to do but with some effort, a decent editor and opportunity much can happen.

The funny thing about writing is how subjective it is.

Flip through the posts here and you’ll see more than a couple of comments here about this. It is a common thread, the subjectivity about writing that is.

Given the weight of the day I am not in the mood to spend much time here so I’ll reiterate that I am certain I am a better writer than some people who use words to make their living.

And there are many who are better than I am and I am good with that.

I am not interested in trying to prove I am the best and I wouldn’t know how to establish metrics that prove it.

Between you, me and the rest of the Internet I sometimes wonder if some of my online kerfuffles would or will cause some heartache for writing positions down the road.

I don’t spend time worrying about it but I have thought about it.

The world is a funny place about some things now. If they think you have said something offensive there are people who are determined to make you pay for it for life.

I mentioned this to a friend and he asked me if I still thought a country bumpkin attorney should shoot himself in his left testicle.

“He can shoot himself in the right and or choke on the rotten meat from one of his hunting expeditions.”

“That is generous of you, to suggest he can shoot himself in either nut. You are a giving person.”

“I try. I’d give him some of the secret sauce to suck down too. Does that make me more generous of just sick and twisted.”

“Nah, it just means you have a memory like an elephant.”

“You know some people say I have other things like an an elephant.”

I pause, smile and say “ears. People say I have big ears. They also say I don’t listen so maybe there is no correlation between size and…utility.


Playdough and Subdivisive

In the madness of the moment a man tells me he is tired of my making fun of POTUS and claims that if I understood what Playdough said about the Republic I might feel differently.

“The problem is you’re a liberal from California and you are used to the country subdivisiveness your state.”

Confession: I read his words and started salivating at the thought of unloading upon him.

It has been a while since I read or discussed Plato’s Republic but it doesn’t fit with his claims.

The thing is I hesitate to jump in because his writing makes him look like a caricature of a person and there might have been a time where I intentionally created a ridiculous online persona.

Though I can neither confirm nor deny that such a thing happened it gave me pause and I wondered if this dude was trying to set me up.

Eventually I said screw it and jumped in because when it is your recently deceased father’s birthday and you’re not sure what to do with yourself you get involved in silly stuff.

“Sir, if you are phonetically spelling Plato I follow why you spelled it as you did. OTOH, If you ate bowls of paste in school I understand why you misspelled it too.”

I get an all caps response and tell him to stop mangling subsidize.

‘That is the word you’re thinking of but after the nonsense you spout I am not convinced you understand it.”


The quiet of the evening has hit and I have finished my second workout of the day.

I am sitting at the end of the table in my seat. I suppose in my house it might be considered the head of the table but it is not how I think of it.

Dad had the head, directly opposite me and it was a format we usually followed for as long as I can remember.

I don’t have to close my eyes to see Dad’s copy of Plato’s Republic on the shelf in our old house. I haven’t any idea if it lives in a box in the garage in mom’s place or if it was given away.

Were I in Los Angeles I probably would be tearing through boxes of pictures in the garage looking for more shots of dad.

He isn’t in as many as my mom, siblings and I because he was usually behind the camera.

I am curious to see if my memories of these photos in the boxes holds true because I think of him as being very serious in those old shots.

As we all got older he smiled more or so I think the pictures will show.

I made a point to ask lots of questions, especially as it became more apparent that time was slipping but you don’t always ask what you don’t think of.

Got my follow up appointment on Monday and I’d like to compare notes with Dad, but obviously he isn’t available.

And so it goes, you don’t ask what you don’t know or think will be important.

You just play the hand you are dealt.

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