The Fry on the Floor Friday Round-Up

In our town, right now, the authorities are evicting people from being homeless. That’s right. Folks are getting 5-day eviction notices to vacate where they are camping because they don’t have any place to live. For instance, say you get evicted from an actual apartment and you are, as we used to say, shit out of luck, and you end up parking yourself under a bridge next to a hospital where you might think people would be super compassionate because they are, after all, health care professionals, so you roll out your blanket and try to get some sleep even though your heart is pounding like a motherfucker and you wake up with a some official looking guy handing you an eviction notice. You already thought being under a bridge was a last resort. What’s the next resort?

This is crazy but if I could just run around and be 76 forever, I’d be happy. That’s going to sound nuts to the people who aren’t 76. All those folks are feeling sorry for me because I’m old. Friends, you have no idea how great it is on the other side, the side where you don’t care anymore how old you are. You want to talk about liberation. Lordy. Here we are.

I voted early and it felt great. We always vote on election day but not this year. I was too worried about breaking a leg or getting Covid or whatnot so I had to vote early. Jimmy Carter and I have our ballots in the bin. And thank God.

My new thing is making videos, every once in a while, about something that particularly irks me. The latest is about how we have come to accept uncouth behavior from public figures (shall I name one?). You can find the video here. Last night, I went to a small gathering and sat next to a friend who quickly said, “I will try not to be uncouth.” I loved this. It made me laugh.

So, about the fry. It’s really hard to explain. Suffice to say that I was standing in a circle with a bunch of important people and realized that I had most certainly dropped from the folds of my jacket a single French fry on the well-polished floor in my effort to drive through McDonald’s and get to the meeting on time. It laid there glowing for a good hour until I could swoop by and pick it up, whilst my companion said, “I wondered what a French fry was doing there.” I said, “It was mine.” And we laughed like we were both Kamala Harris and it was fabulous.