T G I F by Jim Redwine

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Gavel Gamut

By Jim Redwine

(Week of 10 May 2015)

T G I F

Thank goodness it’s Friday and the final day of my two weeks of “vacation”. I can’t wait to get back to work and away from Peg’s unending, ever changing list of things that must be done RIGHT NOW and by Me!

Here’s how the negotiations went four weeks ago. Jim: “Uh, Peg, due to a schedule change at work I have an opportunity to squeeze in a couple of weeks of free time. I was thinking I’d just chill out for a while.”

Peg: “Sounds great. Let’s go see my family in Vermont. We haven’t been there since Mom’s funeral.”

Jim: “Uh, boy that’s a good idea. I think being on the road for half my time off is just what I had in mind. Maybe at least one of those Vermonters will say more than ten words to us.”

Peg: “If you’d not get into your arguments over their conservative politics and just be quiet occasionally, they could get a word in. If we don’t go to Vermont, how about Florida?”

Jim: “Oh, that’s good. Let’s drive a thousand miles towards the equator as temperatures are steadily rising. Besides, the last time we went to Florida everyone spoke either Spanish or Yiddish. I didn’t know if we were in Havana or New York City.”

Then she began to slowly set the trap.

Peg: “Well, we could just stay around here. That way you wouldn’t have to take me anywhere.”

I failed to recognize the on-coming train.

Jim: “ That would be great. I can relax, watch some baseball, read a book or two and not shave.”

Peg: “Those are certainly possibilities.”

I thought we had what judges call a meeting of the minds, you know, an oral contract. What I found out was, as Yogi Berra so wisely postulated, an oral contract is not worth the paper it is written on, especially with one’s spouse.

There probably have been baseball games on TV these past two weeks, well not in Baltimore, but somewhere. I cannot be sure because I have spent my whole vacation engaged in projects, Peg’s projects. It must be biological. The wife of the species can see what no husband can, i.e., manual labor hiding in every corner but never to be found lying on the deck with a cool beverage.

Hurry up, Monday!