So it's back to school on Tuesday. Every year at this time, people ask me if I'm really ready to return. Then they step back to observe the havoc they've wreaked.
Not this year, baby.
Maybe I could use some extra time to decompress after a tough week spent lying on the sands of Virginia Beach, but I'm not complaining.
This year, I'm going to bound through the doors of Annapolis High School with a spring in my step and a song in my heart, secure in the knowledge that things could be a whole helluva lot worse:
* I could be the next friend of the governor's to need emergency medical assistance. Think the mayor will send that ambulance right over? Yuh.
* I could be the urban planner entrusted with the job of beautifying Parole. Hmmm . . . How to begin. Take one hydrogen bomb . . .
*I could be one of the word processing clerks who type in all those Severn Bridge letters to the editor over at The Capital. ("Don't our politicians realize . . .") I'm ready to reach for a gun myself just thinking of how they must feel.
* I could spend a fortune to clear my name, be found innocent of a major crime, and STILL have everybodythink I'm a sleazebag jerk. A tough county, let me tell ya.
* I could find myself at a banquet seated between Annapolis Alderman Ruth Gray and NAACP mogul Jean Creek with a lot of breakable objects around. (It's nice to know in the age of equality that women in the political arena can be just as infantile as the men. Reassuring, no?)
* I could be an out-of-towner trying to find an address on Jones Station Road in Arnold. Good luck! Are there five different streets with the same name, or what? Dead end; U-turn; search; cross over; another search; turn; wrong turn; retrace steps. So where's Genderson's? College Parkway again?
* On my psychiatrist's recommendation that I conquer my inordinate fear of loneliness by opening up a people-orientedsmall business, I could have located my venture at the Severna Park Mall.
* I could have built my dream house over in bucolic St. Margaret's so I'd never have to see an interstate highway or cloverleaf interchange again. Oops.
* I could be a big shot in the KGB with a fear of confined spaces and a hatred of very cold weather.
* I could be the loneliest player on the AACC men's basketball squad, ostracized for being the one guy on the team actually enrolled at the school.
* I could be a big shot in the Russian army with a fear of confined spaces and a hatred of very cold weather.
* I could have been assigned to write a doctoral dissertation on one of the following topics: "Modesty in Politics: Fiscal
Restraint in the Lighthizer Years," "You Can Hear a Pin Drop: The Sonic Excellence of Maryland Hall," "Eloquence in City Government: An Analysis of the Great Speeches of Mayor Al Hopkins."
* I could be a former big shot in the Gorbachev administration with a fear of confined spaces and a hatred of very cold weather.
So, hey, spare your pity. Yes, I go back to school on Tuesday, but don't cry for me, Argentina. Compared to what I could be facing, I don't even know what trouble is.