I'm closing in on my sixty-seventh birthday later this month, doddering towards it actually if I had to choose a word to describe the rate and pace of approach and one of the things I'm discovering that is in more and more rationed supply, aside from the hair on my head, is benefit of the doubt and its traveling companion, understanding of the other's point of view. And before you ask, I am guilty as charged.
I keep telling myself it's just me but I'm a lousy liar when I realize I have less patience for and tolerance of the jackals, jagoffs, jerks, and jokers who infest our body politic like tics on a dog. Not just the grifter grafter in the White House though he does set the bar pretty high, but also the cast of characters on both sides of the aisle in both houses of our legislative branch as well.
There seems to be a consensus of some kind somewhere that if I don't like Trump (and I really loathe him) I should automatically like Chuck Schumer. Except I don't like him either. Same holds true for Jungle Gym Jordan of Ohio and Nancy Pelosi from California. Didn't have any use for them in the dark days gone by much less when they became paragons of virtue which they're still not now. I keep thinking of that line from Won't Get Fooled Again about the parting on the left is now parting on the right but at this moment in time I'm clean shaven so what can a poor boy do?
I'm thinking maybe insist with one voice that all these folks we sent to Dodge City to work for all of our good, actually try helping us instead of helping themselves. Though that might be just the root beer talking.
-bill kenny
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