Mom called while I was out for a walk yesterday. I got to tell her how wonderful the weather was while I was out in it. I don’t know why that pleased me, but it did.
Then we had a good laugh about the impeachment proceedings. Well, not a *good* laugh, actually. More like the laugh that people who share a tragedy sometimes have.
“Do you think he’s going to get impeached?” she asked, “or do you think the Democrats will screw it up?”
“Oh, hell, no, he’s not going to get impeached, never,” I said. “And I think it’s almost a given that the Democrats are going to screw it up.”
“But he keeps going on TV and admitting to the crimes he’s accused of! He keeps making that same mistake!”
“Yeah, the thing is, I don’t think it’s really a mistake, is it? Because he got away with it the last time, and the time before that. He keeps getting away with it. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he got re-elected.”
That brought a howl of anguish down the phone line. “You really think so?”
“I think the odds are about 50-50, yeah.”
“Well, I sure hope you’re wrong about that.”
“I’d sure like to be wrong. But I don’t believe I am.”
And then we talked about happier stuff after that, like movies and books. It was kind of an Oreo sandwich phone call.
This Is Drivel 