Here it is, the unofficial end of summer. If your kids aren’t already back to school they’ll be there soon. Visions of paste and sharpened #2 pencils fill our heads. It already feels a little like fall here. Nights are cooler and the humidity is long gone. When I went to the grocery store I saw the mums and Halloween candy out. Even the national burnt coffee chain has rolled out the PSL before Labor Day. We’ll probably have another heat wave or two before fall begins in earnest. I wish someone would let the ticks and mosquitoes know it’s time to go away.
There has been an event that cannot go unmentioned. One that will betray the trust we all put into one of America’s greatest institutions.
I was carrying out one of the greatest pleasures that all Americans enjoy all too often. A task where we celebrate the labors of our fellow Americans at the pinnacle of their everyday efforts. Something everyone can be proud of, something everyone does without much thought, but the impact of which will reach down to the core of the self. Such a delightful experience, with a beautiful globally warmed environment keeping my temperature at an elevated level.
After arriving home from my enlightened journey through the aisles of one of America’s greatest institutions, I was unaware of the events about to unfold. I let my guard down. I relaxed. I was not at the peak of my abilities. this made the tragedy that much more astounding.
It was during the preparations for the upcoming week that the full effect of events would hit me like a ton of bricks. I held aloft the sword of Damocles, ready to dispatch an unsuspecting victim to the list of accomplishments that must be completed to fulfill the week, when I witnessed the unfolding of the tragedy to befall all tragedies.
I watched not a whit of the Comedy Clown Show (aka Democrat Debate #1A) last night. From the brief video segments I’ve overheard on the local news this morning I’m glad I skipped them. I’ll probably catch a few videos here and there but will rely on Rush Limbaugh and The Five to put it in perspective. Thanks to Alex for linking Sweati Tulsi. She’s someone I could get behind IYKWIM. OK, let’s delve into the world of vintage advertising/mascots (really not a good segue I know).
I had someone say to us “that’s not the last $5000 mistake you’ll make.”
The number really isn’t important because it’s relative, however, it’s the permission from ourselves to make the wrong decision. It happens to everyone. And it will not end life as we know it unless it’s some dummy like Biden fooling around and bragging about having access to the nuclear codes.
My husband often says after we (or our children) make a decision, “now, make it the best decision.” Which of course means, make it work.
