Mellow Fellow

How strangely angry I have been for several weeks. A different kind of anger, another layer of the inner archeology. I’ve let loose on my neighbors, my memories, and even my brother. Miraculously, my wife got a pass. Who says there isn’t a God?

Oh, delicate flower of an almost 30-year relationship…

I get away with nothing anymore. Not a goddamn thing. She reads my attention and the sixth level of my subtexts. She has the sensitivity of an alien being from a planet where no one does harm. She needs intimacy to live and rips it from me with her bare hands.

It’s been almost a year since she moved back, after more than two years in Dubuque looking after her ailing mother. The biggest thing that ever happened to me, after when she first moved away. I’ve been living here in Taos for seven years, enough to almost be OK. She still complains about no sidewalks, but that may pass in time. The point of this is that she registered to vote, all on her own, and has her voter registration card in hand. You know what that means, don’t you. We even live in walking distance from our polling place. Geez.

So now I need a rationale, and I have found one, to wit: we are ruled by vicious madmen who may drop atomic bombs on a country that hasn’t done a thing to us. Anything I can do to disrupt, impede, or postpone this disaster is worth a shot, so throw a few Democrats under the wheels, maybe we’ll get lucky. The rest will have to wait, obviously.

I’m lucky already, anyhow.

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