I told her she enjoyed ranting to me and she said she liked ranting. I shook my head and said I know better, “you like ranting to me because I listen.”
Didn’t get a response and I smiled because silence is acceptance and I knew she heard destiny calling but didn’t want to admit it and I let it go because it is fun to let her think she is the boss.
Mulled over whether it was time to remind the fine folks on FB that shrimp is the cockroach of the ocean, beaches require saltwater and that sometimes getting a soda is a treat for this Pop.
That of course ignored the need to remind people the Sound of Music sucks, creamy is better than chunky and Brussels sprouts make people blow chunks.
The fellows asked if I was trying to cause trouble and I said no, she wants to kiss me but I won’t let her. She must ask three times, admit she did it first and remember that I know things.
In the days in which a dope called me a crumb and a divorced redneck country bumpkin lawyer teamed up with an Arkansas hick to come after a very silly man there were stories and adventures.
The best part is some of those things actually happened, but hell if I remember the details.
Maybe it is because I faked it every time, but only after drinking bottles of ketchup.
You know one of the best things about having lived through my thirties and forties is I discovered that you can still feel like you are experiencing things from high school.
And heck you can still do some of that in your fifties which proves to me I know everything and I know nothing.
Got some pretty good ideas about this and that and would like to test out my hypotheses using the scientific method to see if it is accurate.
Might not be, but then again I’d like to grab on with both hands and make the determination in person. Sometimes you have to look at a situation eye-to-eye so that you can be certain you really do know.
****
The fine folks of Texas make absentee ballots challenging so I decided that I am not going to fight that particular battle.
No sir and no ma’am, the younger Mr. Wilner and I will be heading to the polls when early voting opens so that we do our part.
We’ll mask up and cover ourselves in Purell and be certain our votes get counted so that we do our part to remove the fly in our ointment, that dolt they call Trump.
It is time for him to go.
Someone asked if I must be a pain-in-the-ass and I asked if they purchased a new set of batteries so they could adjust their attitude.
There are people that add value to our lives and those that subtract from it. I don’t have time to play games with those who serve as obstacles and little inclination to be particularly civil if they cause unnecessary issues.
I am not the little Dutch boy sticking his finger in the dike hoping the flood won’t come.
Pulled my finger out and got out of the way long ago and continue to make my way towards higher ground while taking steps to build a raft to go alongside my life vest.
It is a question of philosophy I suppose. There is a time to go along to get along and there is a time to get going.
I hear the tick-tock of the clock and am working on laying the groundwork for what is to come. In the interim I continue to pay attention to what is going on around me and to read as much as can because education never stops.
And neither does this ridiculous writing which is why I have to go now because it is time to update other places.
