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Resist Hypocrisy
Newsflash: Be thankful.
Thanksgiving Day, November 28
I admit I am a curmudgeon.
Though I have graduated to the retiree/elder table at granny’s Glen Echo Farm Thanksgiving Day bash, I have received several warnings about voicing my opinion and creating another awkward memory which begins with “Remember when…”
I will admit I foul nostalgia. I question bloviation. I resist hypocrisy. I am told these traits do not make for authentic family harmony. That cherished Norman Rockwell moment.
Why don’t I fake it ’til I make it like the rest of us?
What makes me so special?
These I agree are all good questions and worth a look-see at the mirror. However, I am wary and alert to what I am joining. I am circumspect about agreeing, about going along with the crowd. Yes, I have been told that I hold out for disapproval.
Plausibly agree there.
I admit I care more than I comfort. I agree that doesn’t make me Mr. Geniality. My shoes squeak when I walk, and children say out loud that I am “odd.”
You see, I was the guy, who when asked politely last Thanksgiving, why do I hate Trump, replied, “Why do you love him?”
It’s the curmudgeon speaking.
