I go to physical therapy twice a week because my knees aren’t great.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re lovely, they just don’t do everything I want them to do without my screaming.
My therapist is named Ricky. He and I have a very unusual relationship.
I guess it started when I told one of my mean jokes and he was the only one who laughed.
We speak about racism and ageism more honestly than I’ve ever spoken to anyone.
He’s biracial. I know that’s the proper term because when I used the word mulatto to describe someone he cringed and told me never to say that again. I thought I was being politically correct.
I just found out he’s 30 which is such a stupid age to be but he was a winner on Jeopardy so I guess he’s smarter than his years.
I’ve always considered myself a real free thinker and somewhat of a militant in my youth but after spending all this time with him I figured out that what I was was a militant coward.
I demonstrated plenty but as soon as I realized that I could get hurt I laid low. I love all my brothers and sisters but not enough to get a boo boo.
I used to dread physical therapy because who likes being bent in ways that your bones don’t want to go but I look forward to it now because I’m at least guaranteed a few laughs.
I just had an epiphany.
I think Donald Trump obliterated racism in a large part of this country. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still an “us or them” country but the “them” has changed.
Oh yeah, by the way, PLEASE VOTE