Light bulb moment: Why my enemies hate me so much

Last week a video emerged from 2015 (the internet is forever — remember that, kids, the next time you Instagram a photo of yourself in a state and location you might regret later) of former Vice President Joe Biden commenting on his relationship with former Vice President Dick Cheney.  He called him a “decent man.”  “I actually like Dick Cheney, for real,” he said.  “I get on with him.”  Cheney, of course, has borne the brunt of the wrath of the opposition (and a fair portion of his own base) for the war in Iraq that his boss perpetrated.

I don’t care what you think about Biden, Cheney, Iraq, or any other particular element of this conversation.  I share this story merely to tell you about the light bulb that went off in my head upon reading some of the vitriol spewed forth against Mr. Biden from some of the people who, until five minutes ago, may have been looking at his 2020 presidential candidacy with an eye toward supporting it.

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Good

I have given up complaining about cashiers asking me for a “good” phone number or e-mail address.  First of all, I’m flattered, but I’m happily married.  Second, even if I concede that you actually need my data, why specify that it must be “good”?  Are they the type of people who ask for information in other contexts (the club, the gym, wherever else undesirable people are making overtures)?  Anyway, the editor in my cringes when I hear that.  Unnecessary words make me sad.

That said, I encountered a barista recently who was asking for “a good name” to call out when the patron’s coffee was ready.  “A good name.”  OK, that’s a bridge too far.  I must comment on that.

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