Feeling Daft at Lazy Jane’s

Once upon a time, in my fantasy life, Teddy and I lived in Madison, Wisconsin,

and certain rules applied, my rules.
1. We could eat at Lazy Jane’s any time we felt like it.

2. No one was allowed to use these phrases: broken family, intact family, or a child of your own.  Being PC was so in it was out and it meshed with Incorrect, so none  applied – correct, incorrect, discorrect, uncorrect, or just plain wrong. Or right. And everyone used their turn indicators. For right turns. And left turns.

3. A beauty salon  trust fund was awarded to me. UnLtd.

4. French fries and potato chips became super foods.

5. Video and computer games disappeared forever ~poof~ into vapor.

6. Big hot breakfasts were mandatory.

7. The human population, at large, recognized the genius of comic books.

8. Time stood still, for me only, while the world slept.

We lived in Madison, in complete denial about the sad state of certain aspects of the world,
and our ignorance was bliss.

We were in such a far left dream that we rounded the circle to being right

and we were similar to those who fear anything different,

in that we wanted to only be with people who seemed just like us.

And it felt good.

The fantasy, like most fantasies probably, was extremely flawed. For one thing, one huge thing, we couldn’t figure out who, if anyone, was just like us. Therein lay the rub. Fantasies always have a rub. Phew.

So we stayed. On the east coast, not the midwest. In occasionally blissful reality. The rules push us around and we bend. Living happily and daftly ever after.