...Just Us Just Us God's Plan For Us

JUST US

I’m a retired widower.

I know I know most of you thought I was some thirty-sevenish year old commodities option fur trader on the NASDAQ. Someone who drives a Bentley and eats steak with broccoli. Someone who summers in British Columbia and winters in Quartzite.

But I’m just a guy.

I like things

I like Gordon Lightfoot and would go to his concerts at Gammage decades ago. He is still alive—touring. I like The Raconteours playing ‘Old Enough’ and also like ‘Thunderstruck’ by AC/DC with the bagpipes. I stand Ready 5 as aviators call it, waiting for request from adult children to help with grandchildren. I’m not really good at it. Kind of like a monkey with a tape dispenser.

I’m just a guy.

But I am better than a bout with cholera and can pour wisdom on their wee little heads like a solvent from a fire hose. I teach them, when parents are not looking, how to car dance to ‘Timber’. And they always feel safe around the man with the frown or grumpy look, reminding them not to spill their ice cream on Papa’s truck seats. They still give me hugs. Maybe it is out of fear of being set on fire, but I will take them anyway.

…in this stage of my life….

So, in this stage of my life, when I find myself on a signal man patrol, with only two dogs who outweigh me and decide to clarify a pre-dawn parliamentary point of order at 3:24am by whining and sticking their sopping wet face in my face after getting a drink, I think it is appropriate and somewhat honored, if I decide to have an early dinner and refreshing beverage at about the same time, only in the afternoon, at my favorite restaurant/bar. If Jesus showed himself, he and I would go to a pub and have drinks and laugh at jokes which start ‘a horse walks in to a bar….” We would drink scotch and he would tell me secrets only He knows about the distillation of such elixirs. We would go to this place in the late afternoon, before the crowd.

If you are new to Phoenix or from Nigeria and this is your first visit, this is where this photo was taken. The restroom could use some paint, and ordering a cheeseburger is always fun seeing if Chef comes close to the rareness level. But along with the best fries and ranch dressing to dip them, you can get some halibut infused fish with a nice balsamic chutney-vinaigrette and some other cooking tricks the moderns with their no socks and tight waists only wish they had.

…if you live long enough….

There are perfect meal deals, if you live long enough, you can have. The lead is Costco hot dog and a drink for $1.63. Nope, no salad. Just eat the damn hot dog smeared with every condiment they have. A close second is a cheeseburger and fries with a juggernaut of scotch. Not just scotch, war scotch. A wee dram of Ardbeg you drink when you have no more bullets and just a sharp stick for the next dawn. You come in hungry for something and leave ready to recite the Gettysburg Address and google flight information from Phoenix to Afghanistan to end this circus worker segment of world evil. Your belly is passive, your cerebellum is warm, and your back is straight.

In self-evaluation, I have come to realize I could be governor, senator, or even President. But my orders have me here—with you—and a stick. It makes me smile. Apparently, that is The Plan.

…just a guy.

But I am just a guy.

I am just us.

So, with the world in such a state, it is left to us—we few. It’s Saturday. By Monday, it probably won’t be much better. But let us be ready—ready to strap it down, cinch it up, and make way for full sails.

“Mr. Haskins.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“Take us to sea.”

http://markjwilliams.com

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