Content Cluster Muster [03-24-22]

A Good Crop of Open Road Photos

Some more really good ones here.

The Order May Vary

A Song I Really Like for Some Reason

Wisdom to Live By

Not Easy to Do

Jokes I Like to Tell

Once there was an elderly gent who had been a rock-ribbed Republican for his entire life. He was not a nominal Republican either. He had donated to multiple campaigns, he was a precinct committee chair, and had served on various local and state GOP boards and committees, including the state platform committee. He was connected, in other words. On a number of occasions he had been selected to go to the national convention. This life of activism had begun in the Goldwater campaign, and his commitment to conservative principles had never wavered.

When he was in his mid-nineties, he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and he began the work of getting all his affairs in order. He was still mentally sharp, and was able to arrange everything appropriately—his will, his funeral arrangements, and so on.

When that was done, he muttered to himself, “just one more thing.” With that, he called up his great-grandson, the most politically-minded of all his descendants, and who was himself a precinct committee chair. When his great-grandson answered the phone, he asked him to come over as soon as he was able, as he had one last important thing to do before he passed.

His great-grandson arrived, greatly puzzled over what it could be, and was puzzled even further at the request. “I am not very mobile anymore, so I need someone to drive me to the county courthouse.”

“Grandpa! Why on earth do you need to go to the courthouse? You have everything in order.”

His great-grandfather faintly replied, “I need for you to take me down there so I can re-register as a Democrat.”

Of course, his descendant was completely taken aback, and thought that perhaps the fact of being right at death’s door had overthrown his ancestor’s reason.

“Why grandpa,” he said, “Why on earth would you—of all people—want to register as a Democrat? And to have that be one of the last things you did on this earth? Is it because you want to be able to keep on voting?”

His great-grandfather chuckled. “Good one, son.” But then he said, “Look at me.”

And so his great-grandson looked him straight in the eyes, expecting to hear some sage bit of wisdom.

“Well,” his ancestor wheezed, “I do know that I’m dying, son. And so if somebody’s gonna die, I’d much rather it be one of them than one of us.”

In Broad Paraphrase . . .

Who Has More Fun Than People?

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