The Milk Mustache of a Prophet

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I spent the day at the hospital. Finally this morning my goozzle hurt bad enough for me to go the Emergency Department. Mostly, I think I’ve been avoiding it because I didn’t want to sacrifice a whole day but I’m useless to any cause without my health so I went in to let them look under the hood. They did all kinds of blood work and a couple of EKGs. All that checked out fine. They’re sending me to a GI specialist but that will have to wait until I get back from Washington next week. Some other veterans and I will be going back there to try to garner support for impeachment from those who have yet to see the light, or who have seen the light but walk on consumed in darkness. Let me tell you I have been to our nation’s capital many times as part of a lot of different causes but there is definitely a dark energy hanging over that city right now. I hate the activism. I love my fellow activists but I hate the activism. I’ve seen enough of conflict in my life. I just want to live in peace for whatever’s left. But this work has to be done. Donald Trump has abused the power of his office to try to coerce a foreign power to deliver dirt on Trump’s political opponent. For them to pretend otherwise is a complete (to use one of Trump’s favorite words) a hoax. And if Obama had done it they would have ridden him out of town on a rail.

I just had to pause to go barf. If I eat (even close) to my fill, I get these awful painful hiccups until sometimes the repeat fire gets stuck on them and it’s just like the hic part of the hiccup over and over superfast so I can’t breathe. That’ll run a little panic through you. This part is gross so you can scroll down a couple of sentences and I won’t be mad. Only puke comes out of my mouth but bright red blood comes out of my nose. I figure that might be some religious symbol of some sort but I’ve yet to figure it out. All of it will just have to be dealt with when I’m back from DC next Wednesday in time to lead the monthly Warrior Writers group. I only share all that gross medical stuff because, well, number one I’m the king of overshare, and number two, I want to be honest about what goes on in my life to those who read my blog and follow me on social media. I get lonely. You make me feel less lonely.
One thing I will ask in exchange for my candor (well two if you’ve got a prayer to toss up on my behalf, that I remain healthy and strong for the fight) would you please hold only positive thoughts regarding my little health concerns? I really do know there is power in that. I assure you whatever this is, it’s not life-threatening. It’s sometimes painful and wildly annoying but not deadly.

Daniel the little boy who lives next door to me is usually pretty quiet. He’s six. He’s figured out how much I dig kids and he’s all about it. Everybody calls him “DJ” but he told me once that he preferred to be called his real name, Daniel. Yesterday I called him Daniel in front of his grandmother in conversation. He noticed, cocked his head to the side and asked me, “Why you call me ‘Daniel?’” “Because I believe you asked me to.” You could just see it land with him, how much he loved being heard about this thing that is clearly important to him. Tonight he came out on the porch while I was sitting with my laptop on the loveseat that has now made it to my porch (#WhiteTrash). “Hey Jeff!” he yelled and he and his mother made their way over to stand and talk a minute. Daniel was drinking something from a plastic tumbler with such frequency that you could tell he loved whatever was in that cup. “What you got in that cup there buddy?” I asked and when he lowered it to tell me I could see! He was wearing a perfect little chocolate milk mustache.

“Chocolate milk!” He proclaimed it as if he was saying, “The Nectar of the Gods!”

“You know what,” I say, “I got some chocolate sauce in my fridge right now; I love chocolate milk!”
And do you know what this sweet child did? He said, “I could go inside and get you some.”
What a sweet and thoughtful little man and I told him so in front of this mother. I hope it made them both proud.
There is so much goodness left in the world. There is so much goodness in the children. We simply have to make this nation something better to hand off to them. To do otherwise would be unconscionable.


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