“Don’t eat that Aylmer, that’s horse shit.”
Before he lost his mind furiously battling in the mall division of the global religious war, that’s what my father would say to warn me against believing everything I heard.
It was good advice because a person can see and hear a lot today
and if they ain’t curious and of cautious mind they’ll be the
first fools to rush into believing that the new model A
is waay better than the old model T without ever
giving a second thought to the galaxy called
paid parking which just unfolded and will
one day end up costing offspring many
thousands of dollars not to mention
several heated discussions with
unshaven men sporting dirty
fingernails because they’re
24 hr tow truck drivers
who have latched onto
our ride and to whom
we are now beholden.
Thank you, friend.
As a boomer, I have stumbled down more than my fare share of garden paths and now its time for me to cut the mustard. Me. Mustard.