"They say, I read somewhere, oh sh*t, it's, everybody knows it!" said Wilmer McLean IV.
"What?," asked Conrad, his best friend.
"What do you mean, what!" said Wilmer. "We are supposed to get wise as we get old. We are supposed to have gleaned the fields of our lives, keeping the wisdom and throwing out the chaff!"
"Oh, yes I suppose so," said Conrad.
"So how in Jesus' name can that stinkin' knucklehead Trump go on TV and be so goddamned empty? Where in the hell has he hidden any wisdom he gleaned from his fuckin' fields!" said Wilmer.
"Maybe some folks aren't gleaners." said Conrad.
"Well that's brilliant," said Wilmer, "brilliant."
"Well, it's true," said Conrad.
"Dammit!" said Wilmer.
Wilmer was the great, great, great, Grandson of Wilmer Mclean, the Virginian whose house was on the battlefield of the first battle of the Civil War and, having moved, his new home was also where Lee surrendered to Grant. The original Wilmer had a front row seat to the consequences of stupidity.
Old Wilmer was a somewhat sour, stoic fellow. When the Appomattox Daily News asked him his thoughts on the war he responded, "It was a goddamned shame." Thereafter the McLean family prided itself on being realists and straight shooters. The contemporary Wilmer had argyle socks made that had "It was a goddamned shame" sewn into them. The original Wilmer's wife, although somewhat frail, was not one to harbor delusions. After the signing of the surrender in her parlor, the assembled Yankee Officers and staff proceeded to cut off pieces of upholstery and the caning from chairs with their pin knives as souvenirs of the momentous occasion. Sitting quietly on the stairs she was heard to whisper, "a**holes..." From "Wilmer's Socks" By Franklin Cincinnatus
(Article changed on June 29, 2018 at 15:53)