During a recent visit to the doctor’s office for a regular checkup he began with something new, at least new to me.
He started the visit with a question about my name, exactly expecting my full name – middle name included. The next question was my date of birth, followed by my age.
Then he asked me what today was. I aced the name part along with my birth date and advanced age. But becoming more irritated by the moment, I barked out, “Friday,” when he queried me as to “today.”
“No!” he replied sternly. “What is today’s date?” was his unvarnished demand.
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I didn’t know and I said so. I explained that I wear a wristwatch to help me not only with the time, but the date, as well.
After some testy banter about cognitive abilities in the elderly, he insisted I should know the actual date of the day in which I awoke that morning.
Following a good tongue-lashing, I took my turn to calmly point out that I was sitting in his examination room largely because I was aware of this appointment. Amen.
However, logic is not his strong suit and the banter began anew.
This is where I tried to tell him I found my way to my car, drove to his office without getting lost, and arrived on-time on the correct specified date. He was unimpressed.
He then tried another approach: the What Ifs Approach.
He posed another series of lame questions that also fell flat. “What if it was a holiday and you needed to go to the bank?” he pried. He pointed out, “It would be closed.”
“I don’t go to the bank,” I said; “I’m married and have no money,” was my best wise guy comeback.
And so we proceeded as though he had no other patients awaiting his attention.
“What if it was Election Day? You might miss voting if you were unaware that Tuesday was unlike all the others,” he added, pointing his index finger as punctuation. “I know how political you are; you’d hate yourself if you missed Election Day!
Indeed, I would. But in the spirit of the times, and to quell his concerns regarding my elderly state of mind, I thought it was high time to do some ‘splainin’.
Through basic deduction, I realized we were closing in on November, in general, Election Day, in specific. The shenanigans of the past two-years have been bordering on out-of-control insanity, largely being led by Democrats.
Shutting down oil and shale operations, forcing prices on EVERYTHING to skyrocket, being exposed for teaching racist lessons to children in elementary schools, forcing the total shut-down of free speech in America, bullying rational Republicans, attempting to force everyone to buy costly electric vehicles rather than houses, creating a shortage of tampons and computer chips, starving infants with a lack of baby formula, buying expensive foreign oil from despots, attempting to overturn The Second Amendment, opening the borders to illegal immigrants and terrorists, and trying to bargain with a known terrorist country Iran, I could tell we were months away from an election.
But with the White House, Congressclowns, smarmy Senators, and the mainstream media suddenly jumping off the sinking USS Brandon, I could smell we were approaching November of an election year.
Poor Vladimir Putin has been vilified by all above-mentioned members of the Democrat Brain Trust since before Donald J. Trump was elected President in 2016. Lies, lies, and more lies have been the standard of Democrats and RINOs alike, who despise Mr. Trump. Why?
People hate the last President because he can’t be bought, while his accusers are jealous and can be purchased for a few shekels. And that doesn’t fare well.
With local and national primaries in full swing former President Trump has been largely successful in endorsing and selecting – with few exceptions – candidates for the upcoming mid-terms. Now those arrogant Democrat incumbents are absolutely terrified that Trump’s clout is still intact. And they should be.
Although the lies continue, and are even increasing, Democrats are running in overdrive to prevent a political bloodbath of their own making.
To combat this upcoming SHTF storm, we miraculously have a new proverbial boogeyman in the form of an international crisis.
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Not being a medical professional, I only know what I read about this upcoming catastrophe. Evidently, Monkey Pox is a disease spread by gay men. Enough said. I’ll stop writing here so that you may draw your own mental picture.
Unfortunately, World Health Organization (WHO) “experts,” the same experts that lied to us about the COVID-19 flu, are expecting us to believe them when they say this gay man’s disease makes everyone in the world susceptible. It’s unfortunate because WHO officials are wrong.
In any case, Dr. Anthony Fauci, our home-grown medical professional fabricator, is urging caution. Not unlike Nostradamus, I can see the near future and another round of questionable voting drop-off boxes, unresolved mail-in voting ballots, and deck-stacked poll watchers, in the November mid-terms.
So based on all this, and even more unbelievable contrivances likely in the works, I can actually taste the month of July. July is only four months from Election Day and the scent of Republican victory wafts through the air like the sweet aroma of a fresh baked apple pie.
It was at this point I reached the door of my doctor’s office that he bid me a farewell and told him to remember to vote. Our country’s future depends on our votes.
And I won’t get the day wrong. I promise.
