Smells Like…Victory. 

I love the smell of a Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals Order and Melissa McCarthy’s Sean Spicer heavy duty hair gel. Throw in the waft of a large Phil’s “Turkish” coffee, and call me Robert Duvall. Sitting here on this soggy, green Rec & Park bench, sporting a Civil War-era colonel’s hat and one of those mustard yellow ascots festooning my puffy jacket collar. No apocalypse now, at least not right at this moment. 

Instead, this morning I feel a little lighter. Some small measure of relief from a month of predictably unpredictable madness. The world feels a tiny bit less malignant for my 11 year-old. Maybe we’ve suddenly stumbled upon the antidote: Mix one measure Rule of Law with one measure of Hilarious Parody. Shake vigorously. Or maybe pound it and grind it with mortar and pestle. Cover and let it sit in the fridge overnight, chilling. Or maybe leave it wide open on the kitchen counter, open season for all the recently-hatched fruit flies. Let the flies get in on that action. 

I confess I am a little fuzzy on the exact proportion of ingredients in this potent paste. But I am reasonably certain that POTUS woke up this morning feeling as if he had downed a half dozen mason jars of Red State Moonshine last night. And the Press Secretary, I bet, is wondering if his own little hands are as little as Melissa McCarthy’s. Probably Trump is pondering the same question, truth be told. 

As for me, I love the smell of three branches of government and late night comedy sketches in the morning. Smells like…victory. 

Thanks for reading. 

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