Becoming Mr. Aces
Becoming Mr. Aces
Jan. 31, 2020
I awakened to a dreary, cold day in Florida. My phone was off (thank God!), although I didn’t realize that when I woke up from a fantasy and beat the passion out of myself. I took the flag outside since sunrise had passed and the country was in the middle of a crisis of conscience.
I pulled off my night clothes and stood stark naked staring at the phone, which, again, thank God it was off. The naughty side of me doesn’t ever see eye to eye with the “real” me, the one who won’t speak up until he’s suffocated.
I had been waiting for this day for a while. It was the day where the Senate would have to take a stand on a moral issue that had been plaguing America perhaps since its founding, when George Washington warned us about how political parties would be the end of us.
After fumbling through a few login screens, I settled into my blue chair with an Irish tea and Nestle creamer to watch a cute blonde woman pounding on her piano, some furry creatures watching her every move.
My furry creature was resting in the chair beside me.
It was now or never, I thought.
Now, the Spirit urged me. It’s time.
To Jam.
[FTR, this is my cat Libby. I sometimes like to put sunglasses on her to trick her out. Because that’s just what I do.]
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