Triple Tasking

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(I wrote this last Thursday before noticing that it would be published on 9/11... and I had a post for that.)

The 49'ers flew all the way to Australia to open their season.  Since the boys have been looking forward to this with great anticipation, you can guess what is on the television.

Wanting to be close to my sweetie, I am on the couch, typing to you.  I can't say that the football is front and center in my mind, but some piece of my consciousness is registering the highs and lows, the kicks and the picks, TBG's groans and shouted advice.

I usually take out my hearing aids when football is on the screen; it's white noise that way.  But tonight is the Congressional debate for my district.  It's streaming on PBS and I'm listening and watching on my phone.  

Or, at least, that was the plan.  

The moderator is delightful.  The candidates are not.  Neither has a voice worthy of settling in next to my brain.  In fact, they are both annoyingly nasal.  Neither one will say the other's name. My opponent is followed by a short pause for a dismissive sneer before the mud slinging begins.  

I love veterans; He hates veterans; I am a veteran; I'm on the Veterans' Affairs Committee; my doctor at the VA was fired.

I'm bipartisan; I'm willing to talk to anyone; HR 1 has been a stunning success/disaster; this Administration cuts waste /benefits are gone; people are suffering/cutting fraud makes more money available to the worthy.

After a while, it became all too predictable.  Ciscomani is a cardboard cut-out poster boy for FFOTUS's raping of America.  Mendoza is a well-scripted novice whose main virtue is that she is not Ciscomani.

The 9'ers just scored a touchdown.  The debate is hurting my eardrums and my head and my heart.  I will consider this post a finished product and go back to my novel.  

Have a wonderful weekend, denizens.

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