I was thinking about the alcoholic judge I used to date, and how he’d march at the head of the local Memorial Day parade every year as a Vietnam vet. Except that, you know, he not only wasn’t a Vietnam vet, he’d never even been in the service.
For a long time after we broke up, I was really afraid to trust my own judgment. It’s depressing to have fallen for such elaborate lies; you feel like a fool. But I eventually began to see him as the eccentric drunk he is and now I just shrug if someone mentions him. As his law partner once told me, he’s only upsetting if you take him seriously in the first place.
Nice mutton chops! Thanks for the flashback.
Should this be a metaphor, or simile, or whatever, for Palin at Rolling Thunder?
Sarah doesn’t march.
She rides.
It’s her way of contributing much-needed carbon to the atmosphere.