728. Clay Pigeons


Joel, “I had a nice Thanksgiving break with my daughter’s in-laws. They sent me home with a week’s worth of left overs. Cheaper and closer than Cracker Barrel. It dawned on me that my kids are much cleverer than I was at their age. Well, at my age too. I got them both antique milk crates to remind them how lucky and lazy they are, though.  And how about you, Burrito?”

“That’s a good insight, Joel. I’m glad to see that our work together is showing some promising fruit even if it is just midget cranberries.”Image result for wild cranberry pictures

I gave Joel the minimum details about my visit to my brother’s home in Virginia, knowing he was merely trolling for information to be used against me in a court of law or public opinion. I did not want to see my words taken out of context in his measly imitation blog the same way that I take his words on wild rides across imagined drama escapades in mine.Image result for mr toad pictures

“How do they tolerate your presence for extended periods of time?”

I explained facetiously that my brother and his entire family are deaf, and that we communicate in American sign language. “It’s like air typing. It’s a good digital work out. My fingers are limbered up for next time we meet around Christmas. Very refreshing, similar to yoga. It’s a good first line defense against dementia, better than Sudoku or playing the violin.”Image result for sign language gif

Joel, anxious to one-up me, “I see. Well, I went shooting clays on Saturday near Dillsburg. It’s exhilarating to blow those disks out of the sky, just obliterate them, crush them in explosive violence, demolish into little bits, totally annihilate, extirpate…”

“Joel, easy lad. You are foaming at the edges of your quivering mouth. You seem to be sublimating your anger, nay rage, with these hapless clay targets.”

“Now don’t take the furious fun out of my one hobby, Burrito, by over-analyzing the perverse depravity underneath my boy joy. I can see what you are up to. It’s like that time you switched out our AARP cards and pretended to be me. I still can’t believe you opened a VISA card with just that number and your phone impersonation of me.”Image result for aarp card images

“Joel, it was easy. People want to believe what you make them want to believe. I played a bit helpless and lost on the phone, and since I know all your facts and numbers, I just let the nice fellow, Garrett I believe his name was, help me through the process. Some folks still enjoy helping the elderly through this cruel cyber world. And Garrett was super helpful. Besides, I’ll need a separate funding stream into perpetuity to fund the Spyder expenses once you are no longer with us, Joel.”Image result for telemarketer images

“Well, Garrett was one of the many bureaucrats and ne’er do wells whose faces I imagined on those clay pigeons. As I prepare for the trap shoots, I draw upon my list of enemies, real and imagined, you know, like Nixon with a 20 gauge. I think of the woman at the Social Security office who didn’t seem to care that I already had a secure traveler’s clearance card from Homeland Security that far exceeded this new REAL I.D. card business.”Image result for real id card pictures

“What’s a REAL I.D.?  Sara has been talking about it also.”

“Well, here. You see that gold star in the upper right hand corner?  It signifies that you are, I don’t know, REAL. Starting next year you’ll need one of these babies to board an airplane or enter a federal building. They are equal to a passport.”

“Let me see that, Joel. Hmmmm, that’s a good picture.”

“It’s off my driver’s license. Now you would think that they could have simply cobbled together all this easily available information on me from their computers and printed my REAL I.D. on the spot like Shutterfly. But NOOOO, I had to pay them $30 and wait two weeks. And Trudy at Social Security rolled her eyes and gave me that ‘I just work here’ half smile of tepid disgust.”Image result for embarrassed smile lady pictures

“And that is why you enjoyed shooting her visage on the clay pigeon?”

“Yes. I am not a helpless, powerless Walter Mitty. I am a tweedy warrior with roots in the Highlands of Scotland and Switzerland.  My people were the feral goats of feudalism!”Image result for outlander battle photos

“That’s quite a claim, Joel. Instead of a coat of arms your family has a goat of arms, I assume.”Image result for goat of arms images

“I’m ignoring you.”

“That’s your problem, Joel. If you were nicer to the Trudys and Garretts of this world, perhaps you would not need to shamelessly shoot them in effigy outside of Dillsburg. By the way, did you stop at Baker’s Restaurant, home of the Dillsburger?”Image result for baker's restaurant dillsburg pa pictures

“I did indeed. Delicious. But you’re trying to distract me from Trudy and Garrett. They should tremble when I have my hot index finger on the trigger of my Mossberg Silver Reserve. I am a killing machine with clays.”

“And how did you do last time out?”

“Uh, fifteen.”

“Out of how many?”

“A hundred.”

“So you missed 85% of your shots?”Image result for blindfolded man with rifle pictures

“Well, I prefer to look at the positive side, you know, my greatest hits.”

“Like Ray Charles? Is this place specifically for the visually impaired?”

“No, it’s just, I, uh, well, I needed a shoulder pad to level out my angle.”

“Like a diaper on your shoulder?”Image result for shooting shoulder pad pictures

“No! It’s nothing at all like a diaper. Why do I even  bother to converse with you when you mock and ridicule me?”

“You really want an answer?”

“Yes I do! It confounds me why I continue to stick my hand in the proverbial blender expecting different results. It’s insane.”Image result for hand in blender gif

“Okay, Joel. It’s simple:  you are an unconscious masochist. You enjoy pain but you don’t realize that you do, so you continually put yourself in situations where you can only be frustrated by near approximations of satisfaction. It makes you happy.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Really.”

“Oh, that reminds me– where is my REAL I.D. card?”

“I don’t know. I gave it back to you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, remember? We were going on about the AARP switch and how you’d never be so dumb as to repeat history again?”

“I suppose you are right. Oh dear! I hate to call Trudy again.”Related image

 

 

 

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