There I was, heaving a bow saw against the shrubbery, sweat running into my eyes, red-faced, and maybe looking a little over-stressed, and my wife gives me one of her looks and tells me that maybe I ought to call it a day, she was about to drive off to the dump with a load of brush and was a little bit afraid that she’d find me slumped into an unconscious heap when she got back.
Now you know, this is an affront to my manhood. I quickly marshaled many fierce replies, but I was slowed in delivering them because I was panting so hard. Otherwise, I was ready to tell her…
“At least I will have died like a man, with my tool in my hand!”
Or maybe the classic,
“We all gotta go some time.”
But then it sunk in that if I said anything like that, I would sound like Gary Johnson.
My gob, what an idiot. Aren’t you New Mexicans a little embarrassed about having elected this guy?
So I surrendered meekly and have gone into the house. I guess being sensible and cautious is one way to avoid surrendering to our fate.
Oh! And as I walked into the house, I got handed some bulky certified mail. Richard Carrier is suing 7 entities, and I’m two of them. He’s demanding $1,050,000 in compensation and another $1,050,000 in punitive damages. So there’s another fate I won’t be surrendering to.