Yes, I understand, governments the world over are crumbling. Its what they do, eventually, all of them. Yes, yes, even the Estados Unidos. And no, I did not resort to reading, listening or viewing it on the news. I can't help but hear people talking.
Well, the regimes are just going to have to fall without me. I got bigger fish to fry today.
Have you ever stuck your hand in a doorway and then slammed the door, just to make sure it still hurts when you do? I know you have Brothers and Sisters. We all succumb from time to time, hopefully less as the river of life flows by. Now being an old geezer, such as I am, you would think enough water has drifted by my idle gaze whilst I was sitting on the bank for me to know better. But sometimes, I say sometimes, I'm as thick as a whale sandwich.
Today was one of those times. Guess what Holmes, still stings like that crap my old man would paint on my brother and me.
When we were kids, my mom believed in Vicks Vapo-Rub. My dad swore by the healing benefits of Mercurochrome and my mom's mom was all about calamine lotion. Mostly, when my brother and I got bloody, whether self-inflicted or fraternally inflicted, we tried to hide the fact from the parental or grand-parental units. If they could catch us, Grams dotted us with calamine, then Bob would paint us with mercurochrome while we wiggled and screamed. Carol would pretend to comfort us after the trauma of the dad treatment but that was only a feint until she could slap a handful of Vapo-Rub on some exposed part of our bodies. We grew up smelling of eucalyptus and covered with red stripes and pink dots. If we were Aussie kids we might have run off to join a sympathetic family of Koala bears but we were so funny looking they probably would have thrown us out of the pack or troop or whatever Koala collectives are called.
These days, without benefit of any of the old palliatives, that damn door still looms in an I-double-dog-dare-you sort of way. I tell you, its enough to make a bitch coyote eat her pups.
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