I’m generally not very superstitious, but this is getting a little crazy. This week I received a letter from a real witch. Can guys be witches? Sorry, I don’t know. Either way, this guy witch is in the pen at Houtzdale, Pennsylvania. I’m not sure what he’s in for or how he got my address, but he requested I send him some pagan or wiccan materials. Apparently, they are hard to come by on the inside. The handwritten note was addressed to my publishing company, which was incidentally named after a bible verse that I like. For the record, I have no wiccan study guides for the poor fellow. I do have some pretty awesome fantasy novels though and one about staging an invasion of hell to get some lost loved ones out. It is pretty fantastical. I thought I might send him that one, but then, I thought, better not. (Shameless Plug – Check out my books at www.scsherman.com or Amazon) Anyway, personal letter from a witch, that doesn’t happen everyday. I thought, hmm…strange. Even a little creepy, but I shake it off.
Then I see Putin sends some long range nuclear bombers to buzz the coast of Alaska all the way down the coast of Cali. We scramble a couple fighters, Obama whiffs his drive off the tee, and they head home. Nobody got nuked; a couple of our pilots got to play Top Gun with the Ruskies, no big deal. Putin is laughing his megalomaniacal butt off, just another day in the Kremlin. I think, wow, Putin really is getting bold. That’s kind of scary. Nukes, only 50 miles from the coast. I shake it off. It’s sunny and 72.
Holy cow, jihadists take over the top half of Iraq. Why did we go there? Didn’t we liberate the top half of Iraq with our blood, sweat, and tears? Yeah we did. Well, the Iraqi Army we trained probably has it under control, right? Well, not really, apparently the Iranian Guard has stepped in to try to keep the jihadists from actually taking Baghdad. What? Baghdad could fall? The Iranians (Sunnis) are protecting the awesome government of Iraq, also under Sunni control. What could go wrong here? Nothing. It’s all good in the hood. Just some tribal tension in the old Middle Eastern sand box, right? I put it out of my head. Everything is going perfect in the world.
Then I notice some headlines as scroll a bit. Obama’s poll numbers are lower Bush’s. Hillary says she’s too damn broke and she’s not going to take it anymore! Where the hell is Biden anyway? They locked him up six months ago in some dungeon somewhere? No big deal. I don’t care. All’s well. Then I see that Han Solo sprained his ankle so bad filming the new Star Wars flick that he had to be taken to the hospital. Say it ain’t so! Han doesn’t sprain his ankle! Han rides a Tan Tan out into the ice cold to save his buddy. He’s invincible, right? What’s going on? A sprained ankle? I try to clear my head, but its tough.
Then it happens. I see the problem. I’m watching my kids ride their scooters around our happy, little, American, suburban neighborhood, when this massive moon rises over the rooftops. A bad moon rising? You’re not a kidding, and on Friday the 13th!
I yelled at the kids. Inside now! Dead bolt the door, load the shotgun, check the street outside for zombies. Nope, nothing. No zombies, whew…just getting jumpy I guess.
So I sit down and pop a top. Time to relax.
Then my kid glances out the window and says, “Dad, what’s that guy doing riding a pale horse down the middle of the street?”
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