American Politics Can Cause Diverticulitis in Seniors

Uncle Harry came over for breakfast this morning. I was making corn fritters with maple syrup and the aroma travelled across our snow-logged backyard into his bathroom, while he was getting a load off his mind.

He is not supposed to eat corn. The doctor told him that he has diverticulitis; he can't digest American politics either, but Harry never listens to anyone.

This morning, he walks into my kitchen looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Got any left?" He asked.

"You know that you are not supposed to eat them." I responded.

"Everything in moderation." He said.

He had The Washington Times folded under one arm.

"That's why you have diverticulitis." I said. "You're obsessed with politics."

"I like to hit the newspaper with a bingo highlighter," he said. "The ones with the orange dots should have gone to school to learn how to train killer whales, instead of majoring in political science."

"Look, I know its gearing up for another 'snowicane,' but can't you call Dick and play cards or something, instead of reading the Times? You guys like Uno."

"I think you might be interested in what Hillary said this morning." He said.

"What, she's on Judge Judy? The statute of limitations has run out on that one."

"No, she thinks domestic bikering in the media is setting a bad example abroad," he said.

"Why, did she whack him with a corn fritter and Al Jazeera is lobbying for a recall?"

"No, lookey here:"

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"Nice." I said. She has a 70% approval rating, no thanks to Bill. She should know what supports one's characterization."

"Did you notice, ever since the Republicans treated Glenn Beck's chalkboard like an Egyptian Pharaoh at CPAC, the Democrats are advocating bipartisanship," he exclaimed. "And look at Bernanke's report."

"Harry, do something bipartisan and let the cat out, before he pees on your damp flip-flop."