There is not a guarantee in the world . . .
On the eve of the presidential election in the United States, I embrace Dillard's statement. Nothing in this world is guaranteed. Maybe death. However, if you believe the stories, Walt Disney's head is preserved somewhere, waiting to be reanimated. And Elvis can be found at your neighborhood Burger King, munching on a Whopper.
Of course, I want to believe that this election will end well. Translation: my candidate will become the next President of the United States. However, I recognize the hubris of that statement. I like to think that I know what's best for the country in which I reside. I have a vision for America, and that vision doesn't include Donald Trump as the leader of the free world.
One way or the other, I will be glad that the election is over tomorrow night. I'm looking forward to a little peace and tranquility. An absence of rancor and accusations. A return to something like hope. After all, the Christmas season is almost upon us. That involves a tilting of the planet away from darkness toward light.
Tomorrow night, after I have worked, voted, and taught, I will drive home and change into my pajamas. Perhaps I will make myself some hot chocolate spiked with a little Bailey's Irish Cream. Then, I will turn on the television and watch the election results. The following morning, I will remove the election signs from my lawn, and life will go on, regardless of who is elected.
In the movie Anger Management, Jack Nicholson plays a therapist who treats people for (you guessed it!) anger issues. One of the ways that Jack gets his patients to calm down is by having them chant the word "goosfraba."
So, get in the lotus position. Cross your legs. Take some deep breaths.
Repeat after Saint Marty: "Goosfraba . . . goosfraba . . . goosfraba . . ."