Watching Debate Requires Martini

In my last phone call with my mother she asked if I was going to watch the debate.  When I told her no, she was incredulous.  “Don’t you want to know about the character of the two men who are vying for control over the highest office in the land?”

I explained that every day of every year is another episode in the sickening melodrama that is Donald Trump with more revealed about his cruelty, dishonesty and criminality.  What can possibly be learned in a 90-minute debate that is unavailable the other 364 days of the year?

But by the time we said goodbye, Mom had made me promise that I would tune it in.

I’ll need a drink; I can tell you that. I’m prepared to light into that martini like a hungry bear lights into a salmon after a long hibernation.

The idea that this country is considering re-electing one of the worst human beings who’s ever walked the Earth is nauseating.  I feel sorry for recovering alcoholics who will have to sit through this sober.