Should I tell her? Can I tell Grandma Slump about John McCain? That's he's done it for reasons other than procreation? That he's done it by dallying around by several women not his wife? That he did it big time while his wife was crippled up and needing support? That he's essentially a sex machine with several workers?
How can I tell her something like that? Her heart's not good, other vital organs. She loves the Republicans. They can do no wrong. She spent her golden years in the '90s decrying Bill Clinton for his terrible adultery. She seriously asked what she was going to tell the kids. And I had to comfort her, telling her the kids were each over 60, they could handle it.
She's always looked to the Republicans for the moral way. Which hasn't been all bad. For someone of her years and delicate health, her mental powers in a fetal position, it's comforting to live by a certain mythology. She's able to wake up and see the day is bright or the day is cloudy, do her cooking and cleaning chores, and get ready for bed in the evening. In there we may have the radio on for a little news, but her mind drifts off quickly if it's anything beyond the basic facts.
So she doesn't really know the basic facts about John McCain. Even though he's well known in one sense -- he's a Republican running for President -- the rest of his biography isn't clear. He's got a wife, and that's about it. But that's about all it takes for Grandma Slump to support him. Because she knows what she needs to know, that he's a moral man, that he'll protect the values we believe in, and he loves his wife.
I don't think I'm going to tell her. She'd never believe it anyway. Or maybe she would, and the reaction would be too terrible to contemplate. She's been to heaven several times. She's seen the light. She's failed. She might die for the last time. Then where would I be? I suppose I would inherit the property, the half acre. And maybe I could persuade another woman to come in. If I only knew how to meet them. Maybe we could get rid of Grandma's old lumpy mattress and get a new one, then who knows what might happen-- Wait a second! I'm not John McCain! And I can't afford a new mattress--
But I've got the goods on the old guy, that's for sure, if I could only use it. It's all right here, how John McCain came back from Vietnam, found his first wife crippled up from an accident, started an affair with Cindy, and several months later got a divorce and married her. Those who knew him at that time say he was running around, womanizing, spilling his seed on living creatures and some that weren't, knotholes in trees, he didn't care. An adulterer, the exact reason why Grandma never liked Clinton! And here he is a Republican, good enough to be President after everything they said about Clinton. Grandma doesn't deserve this!
No, I shall let her rest. Let her drift off her way to sleep, perchance to dream, to dream of heaven and Grandpa. Up there building rabbit traps or carp fishing. She's lived a good long life, now well beyond the usual span, and this isn't really anything worth dying for.
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