short-timers, all

In my 1968 tour of tropical paradise Vietnam, everyone in my office had a short-timer’s calendar. It was an advent calendar of sorts, counting down the days until we rotated back to the world. As clerks we were blessed with walls to put them on. I don’t know what the grunts used, but we were all dedicated to making sure that we got to Day One with our asses still attached. Every day we marked off added to our anxiety that something not good might happen before we caught our chopper out.

With 28 days left before Biden takes over, we’re all short-timers, whether you’re a Trump supporter dreading the return of adult leadership, or an adversary fearing the damage he could still do. I’ve been dividing that number into shorter markers, like the Electoral College meeting, the solstice, Boxing Day, notable match-ups for the KU basketball team, the Georgia run-offs, the NFL divisional play-offs and such. Tomorrow I can start saying “three weeks and change”.

Lots of pundits are fretting over Aging Orange’s unrelenting attack on the very underpinnings of freedom. I, however, hope he keeps perseverating on the lost election. Sure, it keeps him away from true problems like the pandemic and the massive Russian hack, but he wouldn’t do shit about them anyway. As he considers increasingly bizarre options offered by Giuliani, Flynn and Sidney Powell, one pines for the lucidity of the yestermonths of shooting up bleach and the demon seed lady.

We will survive Donnie Covidseed, except for the tens of thousands of folks who died simply because of his vanity and venality. We will build a better, stronger democracy and hopefully those of us still around in 25 years will have an answer for the younger generation who ask “What the hell were you people thinking?”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for the Saints-Vikings game on Christmas Day.