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     The other day, I was in my backyard sitting in my favorite Chinese made polymerizing vinyl chloride chair, (PVC), watching the squirrels mate. As I watched the tree rats hump and drop their nuts, my mind took flight and I started to daydream. Not the kind of daydreams I get from too many meds, but the wondering kind of dream. My mind meandered off to thoughts of what ifs, and what evers. In particular, to what if I had lived in another time and place....? My first wandering placed me in the Montana territory along the spine of the Rocky Mountains. It was 1841 and I was a lone trapper making my worth by trapping squirrel along the Flathead river. I met a Shoshone squaw named Pug Cheeks and for several years we shared our life together until one abhorrent blizzard filled winter, when I had to eat her. Made me feel bad, as well as full.  

     The thought of shoveling snow broke that train of thought, and my mind was then shuttled off to 1797. I was a young doctor and surgeon practicing in the newly christened state of Pennsylvania. One morning, I  had cleaved open a man's chest to attempt a bypass. When I called to one of my assistants for an x-ray of the patient's chest, all those around me simply looked at each other with glazed over pupils. The man died and later that day, I was tied to a stake in the city square. As the torch lit the kindling about my feet....I shouted, CUT!! Then my dream co ordinance shifted forward to a more dossal period of time in our future.  

     It was 2032, in the Americas nation of Georgia. I was a dedicated school drone teaching English to third year fifth graders. I had just completed a class and as the students left my teaching pod, I handed out their midday meds. From there, I went to the cafeteria and had the day's vegan special. As I sat next to Mriss Boracca Hootel, we discussed the current election. "I'm not going to vote for that 'J' democrat. That personage is as 'D' as they come. I doubt if that personage could tell their 'A' from a hole in the ground." I shook my head knowingly, and just smiled. Mriss Ning Yong came over and sat across from us with a tray of meat balls made from steamed broccoli/tofu. "How were your classes today," asked Boracca.  

     Yong took a sip of bark tea, and said, "It 'S'ed. The classroom's video monitor shorted out this morning and I was unable to transmit today's lessons. Even the Federal FaceBook site was down again."  

     "My 'G', how will you get through the day!" I asked.  

     "ClintonCare supplies me with all my Valium, and I'm going to need it! By the way," she added, "have you two checked to see if any of your student's can write their names yet? Word is, if they are too 'S' to write their own names, then they will either be classified as 'R's, or authorized to be ADHD, PTSD, CBT, IPT, WTF, SOL, and KMA. I, for one, plan to make sure most of them can do so before they graduate. Fact is, most personage need to be able to sign their own names before they can earn a living by getting a 'J' and then going on 'FS's.  

     Then the school bell gently chimed, and all the students stood up from their lunch tables, and maintaining the required distance from each other....they all zombied off to their next class while chanting the school's cheer; "Chelsea, Chelsea....we need you....we'll get out the 32."  

     It was at this point, while I was daydreaming, that I had a stroke, fell to the ground in my backyard, and was ravaged by hungry squirrels.  

DISCLAMER:   Sometimes, I can't really be held accountable for what I think or say....thank you for your understanding.

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