Honest in The Worst Way Possible

Gratefully, there’s one more person I don’t have to talk to. Not the Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts, or his male acolytes who wear black robes and then disrobe presumably to display their Penny Loafers. I do enjoy talking with my CPA Henry G who’s extremely well-read and who shares intelligent books and articles he’s bookmarked from The Atlantic Monthly and other qualified sources. I don’t have to watch TV, especially when there’s nothing compelling on TV other than the same evening news that is more or less on every other channel, right-wing and left-wing. I do miss C-SPAN however; C-SPAN once spoke to me but exited my cable feed when I mistakenly changed content providers.

When I just can’t take John Roberts and his pious band of brothers, or any more of the heavy right-wing think-tank caca or the slightly lighter left-wing caca, I read books instead, propped up in bed late at night with a bag of chips and a small saucer full of hot red salsa. Gratefully, Donald Trump is nowhere to be seen at the moment, nor are any of the other creepy-crawlies dragging themselves across North America, members of the Freedom Caucus and the Moms for Liberty et.al (not to be mistaken for The Mothers of Invention) plus an ex-football coach named Tommy Tuberville who is now a US Senator (R—Alabama).

Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man (The Early Years) by Thomas Mann is highly recommended. I hadn’t realized how funny Thomas Mann is, how light the touch and how profoundly the life-story is told. I’m eating it up with chips and red salsa. Mann’s novel is funny as W.C Fields is funny when he says to an associate, in I think, The Bank Dick—“I want to be honest with you in the worst way possible.” Something like what Fields said might be said to John Roberts or Donald Trump or any number of these on-screen television personalities.