Just Win, Baby

 

(Nobody says that you have to set the world on fire.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. There’s an old man who lives on the outskirts of northern Seoul. He set up a camp at the base of Bukhan Mountain, and he has a very interesting hobby. This geezer collects stray dogs and trains them to sniff out North Korean spies. He keeps his pets locked in cages along one of the trails. Anyway, the powers-that-be are nonplussed by his activities, and they have ordered the oldster to get rid of the canines. But he has steadfastly refused Big Brother’s orders and is very disappointed that the government doesn’t share his patriotic zeal. In other words, Grandpa is a loon. No big surprise. They come in all types of shapes and sizes.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I surfed the internet. A man in his 60s from Queens, New York, was walking home when a robber tried to take his money. In response, Pops took out a handgun and blew the thief away. The police arrived and arrested the shooter. He now faces a murder charge. If convicted, he will more than likely die in prison. After all, he’s no spring chicken. And here’s what I don’t understand. It’s now illegal in America to protect yourself and your property. Times have certainly changed. These days, Uncle Sam 2.0 simply wants us to take our ass fucking with a silly smile on our ugly faces. Explain the logic to me because I’m at a loss.

I didn’t speak to the Dragon Lady. She’s giving me the silent treatment due to the fact that I don’t possess the cash to pay her credit-card bills. But what’s a boy to do? It’s not like I can squat over the toilet and produce gold coins.

I drove to work in my ancient SUV. Rice-Boy Larry was in the passenger’s seat. We called Nurse Ken using Facebook Messenger as we tooled along the highway.

I said, “Did you get the results back for your HESI Exam?”

He said, “Yes.”

“Well, are you going to keep me waiting until I die?”

He shrugged. “I did OK. I scored 75 or better in all the categories. It’s not great, but it’s not terrible.”

I smiled. “I looked it up on the internet. 75 seems to be the magic number. Congrats! You should get accepted if luck is on your side.”

“It’s not that easy. I might be on the borderline. I’d say my chances are fifty-fifty.”

“Bullshit. It’s not like you’re applying for Harvard. Those scores will be perfectly fine for your rinky-dink college. In fact, they’ll be lucky to have you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m sending you a copy of my tax returns tomorrow. That way you can get your financial aid. Good job, son.”

“I don’t know, Dad. I didn’t exactly set the world on fire with those results. If anything, they are merely adequate.”

I pointed my finger at him. “Where is it written that you have to set the world on fire? Who told you that bullshit? Like the late, great Al Davis used to say, just win baby.”

“Any other sage words of advice?”

“Yes! Stay away from the drugs and alcohol. Don’t fuck up a good thing.”

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