Good evening. On the sparsely populated, late-for-me 5:45PM out of the City. I’m beat. I’m spent. I need a break. Unfortunately, I’ve more work to do at home. The challenges of first world problems like timelines is that important things and people, like personal health and family, are left aside until deadlines are met. “Deadline” is a tough word, isn’t it? Enough about me.
Punjab, Daddy Warbucks’ personal aide, is in town. He is scouting out orphanages for the tycoon so that he, Master Warbucks, can feel philanthropic. He is a healthy fellow and no doubt has the as much strength of will as he has cubic feet of occupancy of his seat. He is armed with both a Sig Sauer and a long ornamental dagger tied to a sash.
Theo Huxtable and his wife are here. The attractive and well-to-do couple are chatting quietly, discussing their day, making plans for the upcoming Easter celebrations. Theo politely takes out his iCrackerBot and texts his good friend Saul, a former college roommate at NYU, wishing him happy Passover. She is an elegant woman, with her hair pulled back and in a once-tight bun that is coming apart slightly after a long day. She reminds me of Theo’s mother. Both are armed, going out to a suburban gun range for some target shooting. They bring cutouts of the cast of Friends on which to practice.
A Khaddafi (or Ghadaffi for you ’80’s pop-culture historians) is upstairs, sitting alone, and incognito. He pulled a fast one on drone-strikers and Covert Operators. See, although he’s done nothing wrong, (he was a gastroenterologist in Tripoli with a steady but not overwhelming private practice, his fourth cousin on his father’s side was a distant relative of the General. This co-commuter used to call the General “Uncle Mo” at the yearly end-of-Ramadan parties at the palace in Benghazi.
Anyway, after the fall, his practice went down the toilet (so to speak), and he pulled a few strings and got on a container ship disguised as a ship’s cook for a freight captain he did a favor for a few years back. Now this Khadaffi (or Ghadaffi, if you like) is off shift at the halal butcher factory in the old Back-of-the-Yards neighborhood, coming out to visit some friends from the pre-Lockerbee days. He’s armed to the teeth.
Right. I gotta get back to thinking about nothing before I go home to work more. Also here are John Mahoney, Jack Nicklaus, Jim Brewer, Joe Piscipo, Jane Curtin, and Joshua Redman. All are armed.
Happy Wednesday to you.