Her Majesty and I were have a pre-Christmas Eve conversation about something about which I'm passionate; the stealing of the election. There's going to be a rally in D.C. on January 6 and I very much wanted to be a part of it. I'm only guessing at the number of attendees but from reports it will be the largest gathering of citizens in American history.
Getting to our Capitol is not a problem. It's a six hour jaunt to Rockville, Maryland from Dublin, Ohio across the eastern continental divide. Rockville is the end point of the train going into the City. I figured I could get a hotel unless the price is outrageous which I suspect will be the case. In that event I'd drive to the train station, put down the back seats of my Suburu SUV, pull out the trusty sleeping bag, then nod off. I know the price of parking in the lot for a day is a heck of a lot cheaper than shelling out a couple hundo to have a pillow and mattress.
From Rockville to downtown. D.C. it's a one and a half hour jaunt. Ten years ago the Queen and I were in the town for our anniversary(Dec. 27) I was peparing for a hip replacement and didn't feel much like touring. Her Highness did so I sat on the train all day and people watched. The only thing missing was wine in a bag. It, the sitting, didn't bother me because one sees the most interesting of folks. They can fill a blog post twenty times over.
Anyway, I was so very excited about being a part of history, unjustifiable history, but history in the making. I could see myself walking enmasse with other citizens from around the country chanting, "Stop The Steal". Chills of excitement ran through my body as I told my wife how wonderful it was going to be.
And then, out of nowhere, that feeling left my mind and my brain took over. I will be, in twenty some days, 75 years old. I know of people who were long dead by this age. I imagined myself getting off the subway and riding the escalator to the top trying to catch my breath. If the crowd is immense I'd have to saunter left and right to make my way through to where I don't know. Can you only imagine the calf cramps I'd have to endure?
When I finally reached my destination to listen to the speakers I'll be forced to stand--------for hours. There'll be no sitting down, no leaning against a mailbox or light pole----no nothing.
The worst part, and I know this from past experience from when we visited with our Arizona friends, bathrooms will be limited unless I dress up in a Deputy Dawg costume and hit a fire hydrant.
It gets worse. When a guy is over 70(close your eyes if you don't want to continue) one never knows when or where the bowel decides to explode. Trust me on this one. I'm an expert. Depends reads thusly: dedicated to MJ Hawkeye.
So, in the final analysis, I decided it'd be best if I stayed on the couch, look at Newsmax TV and be ten feet from the biffy.
Sometimes I surprise myself with my maturity.
No comments:
Post a Comment