Hope and False Hope

Ain't it interesting how people can turn things around to suit what they believe or hope for. Like in politics, both parties have what they call talking points. If you listen carefully all they amount to is justifying something that has happened or is going to happen. One of my favorite scenes from a book I read years ago was when a father was explaining his son's oft repeated mischief to his own daddy, He said something like: He ain't a bad boy, I just can't think of enough things to tell him not to do. Trying to both justify and to move a little of the blame over to himself, doncha know? What got me thinking about all this was the weather this morning. It was down right cold, particularly for this late in the year. The wind was blowing and the clouds were low and threatening. Old Cleavon Webstalk came into the cafe where we were all sitting around discussing the possibility of snow. We hardly ever get snow down here and I reckon we were in a deep hope for a small blizzard. Cleavon was puffing and shivering and his black winter coat was covered with white flakes. One of the fellows suggested that if Cleavon didn't have one he ought to stop by the hardware store and buy a snow shovel to take home with him. Marilou Barnpark, a wise and observant woman, had a different take on the situation. She suggested a good medicated shampoo.