The title could be the post; it is a concise little story. Dirt was in the vicinity- think potting soil – when I glued my hand to the tube so I also glued it to dirt. When I wiggled the tube away from my hand, I thought well, good. I then decided to work on the dirt and managed to pull off a chickenpox-sized piece of skin. I left the rest of the dirt on and went to tell my tale to Summer, who mentioned the time she glued one hand to a super glue container and then in trying to get it off, glued the other hand on as well. I told her I did not remember this and she allowed she had been sort of embarrassed and took care of it on her own – by banging the container against some counter until it popped off. I did not want to explore this technique or even learn the details . . . and now I am wondering about the other Summer adventures that remain secret. Just wondering, you realize; I don’t want to know.

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This morning we’re going to have a meeting at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse about forming a union so we won’t have to pay taxes on our insurance. Of course,  we will move the PBC to Nevada while we are organizing our little group. It is starting to seem like this country needs a partisan group, a resistance, a Free America movement. In fact the code name for the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse may have to be “Rick’s Cafe American” and we’ll need to teach Lydia to play As Time Goes By.

As Oldsmobile would phrase it – This isn’t our forefather’s American.