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Verbiage provides moments of silence
It’s hard to say what it was that day that set me free; the beer my beautiful wife had just handed to me, the children fighting in the background calling each other dumb faces, or maybe the dog getting into the neighbor’s garbage once again and spreading it across their meticulous lawn.
Hard to say, but whatever it was, two things happened at once and the universe gifted to me something few married men ever get to enjoy: Silence.
As I was reading Ty Welch’s letter in the News-Times, aptly titled, “Enjoying Your Fantasy Land,” my wife was simultaneously lecturing me for not taking the garbage out. It appears, at least according to her version, that five hours ago I said I would take the garbage out in five minutes. So she waited for five minutes, and four hours and 55 minutes went by and the garbage was still where it was five hours ago. I had no way out of this and I knew it.
But I did have Ty Welch’s letter and it came in handy. As my wife was lecturing me, I read parts of his letter out loud and passed it off as my own. Even though I had no clue what any of it meant, I said to my wife, “You know what? You are a tyrannical, democratic, socialist, tax-and-spend, labor union, CNN leftist. I’ll take the garbage out but the real garbage is your wanton decadence, your mindless sitcoms, and your lust for government largess.”
For the first time in 15 years my wife was speechless. Mind you, she was sure that I was not smart enough to come up with that on my own -- and she’s right -- but she couldn’t prove me wrong either so I went with it. Besides, I have tiger blood in me and I’m a winner. I have fire breathing fists, and I’m on a drug and it’s called Charlie Sheen.
At an rate, I did enjoy the few moments of silence and I have Ty to thank for that. So anyway, thanks!