It’s Friday morning. This was once my second favorite day of the week, with Sunday morning being, as Harriet might say, my favoritest day of the week.
Friday morning, the time you lay out plans for the weekend. As fall drags its feet as it slowly winds its way down to Florida, weekends have new things to offer. The green markets, once called farmer’s markets, are much more fun on a crisp fall day. Then there’s the football lineup for the weekend. Which team is playing which and which games will be televised? These are major concerns. You know, I mean that’s the way it used to be and that’s the way it ought to be, but it’s not.
Yeah, we go through the same motions but the atmosphere has changed. You can’t really relax now because too many things are swirling around in the cranial cavity: war, money, pandemics. Hell, who can forget about these? Collectively, they are like a shield in our lives, a shield trying to keep us from enjoying our fucking lives.
I’m terribly sick of it. I’m sick of being told to be afraid of everything from abandoned soda bottles to freakin’ foreign birds. I’m sick of whatever the hell that is in the white house that calls itself our president. I’m sick of all the crooks he’s hired and I’m pretty much sick of government. We don’t have a president. We have a man who can barely connect words to form sentences. We have a man running this country who the majority of us wouldn’t even buy a used car from if it was dirt cheap. It’s all a sham and we are stuck with it for at least three more years. How’s that for a good reason to start drinking again?
Don’t smoke cigarettes and don’t drink. Why not? Wait around and maybe you’ll be in great shape when the bird flu bites your ass off. Better yet, stay healthy so you’ll know exactly what’s going on during the next terrorist attack. Yeah, you don’t want to be drunk and miss all that. Then there’s the weather era from hell. Wanna be hale and hearty for that too, right?
Then, on the other hand, what if all the boogie man scary stuff doesn’t actually happen and it turns out that you are hung-over and coughing while everybody else is healthy and happy? Shit, big decisions here.
Then there’s old age and dying. There’s that to look forward to also. The days of being bed-ridden and depending on someone else to do everything, and I do mean everything, for you. Not much appeal to that either, is there?
So here we are back to Friday morning and laying out plans for the weekend. Do we get drunk and put off the pain of reality as long as we can and as long as it’s real, or do we carry the freaking scary boogie man fears with a clear head and clean lungs? Your call.
Too bad we couldn’t do something fucking wise. Too bad we can’t have the white house cleared of all the crooks. Too bad the American people couldn’t all cry foul at the same time. Too bad it’s all too bad.
So what’s the answer? The question is, is sanity all it’s cracked up to be? Is reality worth facing? And finally, which football games will be televised this weekend?
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