Part Two - Chapter Ten
Looking Down the Barrel of a Brand New Day - COMPLETED
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Jack
I'm at choir practice. The dude next to me is 93. Dude in front is 94. Both kicking my ass.
Ceci
Lovers of life!
Sunday, November 4, 2018
Jack
Reading all day for work. As a distraction, I put out scraps for the critters. Bread, carrots, celery, stale chips, and seed. Now we've got crows, ravens, magpies, black squirrels, and fat bunnies. Looks like Snow White's backyard.
No bears.
Yet.
Spooked'em.
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
Jack
Morning Ceci!
Check it out. I'm an official Poll Watcher!
LET THE VOTING BEGIN!
Ceci
About to go cast mine.
Jack
ðâ¤ï¸ðððYAY!!!
Jack
Score! We get free sloppy Joes!!
Ceci
Fun! Good for you!
Jack
How did your poll look in Detroit?
Ceci
Good, busy but not too long a wait, maybe 10-15 minutes.
They added about 10 polling booths
Jack
Same here.
Nationally, we haven't voted this strong since 1914, the year Woodrow Wilson won.
Voters started showing up at 7 AM. They are here in two's, and three's, and some come alone. Dudes in heavy work boots and cowboy hats. Old people chirping away to anyone who will listen. A skinny lady all in black. And a young thing in a sundress and snow boots. My job is to watch and report irregularities.  I'm teamed-up with a beautiful geology professor (with dimples).
All's fine on the western front.
After two sloppy Joe's, I'm re-stationed to the Counting Room.
We are in an old county courthouse built during the gold and silver bonanza more than 120 years ago. The County Clerk leads me down a back stairway, into the basement, along a rock-lined corridor, and into an underground room, the Counting Room. It's small, the size of a Motel 6 room. Low ceiling. There are ten people here sitting at tables. I am not allowed to speak to them. They are not allowed to speak to me. Everyone is older. Average age about 70. They are processing ballots.
The clerk has me sit in a corner, then explains it all like a bee keeper showing off a busy hive. The ballot workers ("judges") are an assembly line. Some open the ballots, others scan codes, others sort and organize. Each step is completed by teams of two, one Democrat and one Republican. They are overseen by two "Super Judges", and they are overseen by the elected County Clerk.
The workers are old, but energetic. One wears a Mine Safety hat pulled over bushy gray eyebrows and a beard down to his nipples. A man in a large black cowboy hat, matching boots, and a red, white, and blue Western shirt walks in to visit. He lowers his hat to the ladies, and pays his respects. But he senses the urgency and seriousness of the room, pardons himself, and leaves.
On the wall, there is a framed telegram from 1890 certifying Colorado election results.
The judges temporarily run out of ballots to count. In the lull, the women pull sweets and pastries out of bags and secret places. They share stories of how to manage sheep on 50 acres, and a boulder that rolled off a mountain and "cut a car in half". The miner mentions striking a load of "wire silver".
The talk hushes when a citizen gets through on the one telephone in the room (cells are banned). The caller is an old timer. He's snowed in. Can't get to the polls. The election official puts him at ease. Tells him she's sending a poll judge to hike in through the snow with a ballot, and hike back to our polling place before it closes.
Another stack of ballots is brought in and everyone returns to their job.
Jack
Woooohooooo!! The polls are closed. I'm at an after-party. The blue wave sweeps our county!! Drinking champagne!!
Ceci
Cheers!
Nervous.
Jack
Breathe.
Just to humor me, breathe again.
Ceci
Ok
Jack
Gretchen Whitmer is winning! Out with the criminal Snyder (Michigan Governor's race)!
Ceci
She is looking pretty good.
Jack
We're celebrating in the Elk's Club. Can you tell?
Ceci
Fun!
Jack
Jared Polis, an openly gay, Jewish dude just won Colorado Governor!!
Ceci
Beto loses.
Jack
Ugh.
Ceci
He broke through like no one else before though.
Jack
Right. Even deep in the heart of Texas.
Fuck yeah! We just turned the Colorado Senate!
And the Flint baby poisoner Snyder is gone!
Down to 2% battery.
Sweet dreams, Ceci.
Ceci
Check in with you tomorrow for post election coverage.
Jack
â¤ï¸
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Jack
I keep trying to get a close-up of the ravens, but they're too smart. They split at the slightest sign.
Wood peckers don't care.
Monday, November 12, 2018
Jack
Got'em! Magpies.
Went skiing for breakfast. Would you do such an irresponsible thing on a Monday?
F Yeah! this is a tune for cranking too loud and driving too fast!Woooohooooo! I'm in love. Again.
(Not Running by The Beth's)
Friday, November 16, 2018
Jack
Ceci, you fine thang! Four days to Detroit!
I can't wait! Work has been like a cage match with ten giants yelling, "Fe Fi Fo Fum, lets kick the shit out of Jack!" And then they start beating me, tearing me limb from limb. Then, one grabs me by the ankles and is swinging me around until I crack my head on another, which by sheer luck knocks him out. But then ten nastier giants jump into the ring.
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Jack
Justin is here! Snowed last night. Baking. Putting up Christmas lights. Drinking wine. Two days till Detroit!
Here's something to put you in the mood...
Ceci
Awesome! I started thinking about outdoor decor today.
Jack
Inflatable Santa?ð
More bread porn.
Ceci
Taking it day by day.
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Jack
Sweet. Me and Justin heading to work, bank, jail, hospital (Ruby's an intern), airport, Detroit.
Wednesday, November 21, 2018
[Note: Jack flies to Detroit]
Jack
Morning, Ceci.
Ceci
Hiya!
. . . .
[Note: Five days later, Jack flies back to Colorado]
Friday, November 30, 2018
Jack
First choir performance.
Dude on the left with ponytail. 94 years old.
Ceci
He's got great hair still!
I practiced with a new group last night. Fred Hitchcock has a traditional British folk music thing going. You know, all the folk hits from the 1800's.
Jack
Nope. I don't know that catalog, but you are my hero.
I performed okay, not great, but had a blast. Every once in a while, I would hear all the harmonies, see all the happy faces, get all choked up, and have to stop singing for a second.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Jack
Show number two. I'm getting better. And they had excellent cookies!
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Jack
Skiing.
Diving down the mountain like a bird of prey, like a scruffy alpha leading a pack of wild dogs. The old man can still shred!
Feels good.
Ceci
â¤ï¸
How old are we?
Jack
Glad you liked it. I wrote it for you.
How old are we? Hmmmmmmm.
I'm going to think up a long-ass, clever answer to that, right after I have a beer. ðº
. . . .
First, I don't know about age. Seems to be irrelevant.
I've seen dudes my age that look like they are gonna die. Like an overflowing tub on sticks.
I feel pretty much like 25, 15 when I hear your voice.
How old are you?
This is going to seem like bullshit. I even thought it was bullshit. In fact, I thought, "This has got to be total bullshit, or some hallucinogenic delusion."
BUT IT'S NOT.
You always seem to be the same age to me.
There. I said it.
How can this be?
I have no fucking idea.
Now, you're wondering, "What age do I seem to be? like 60?"
Nope.
That's the thing. It isn't like an age. I'm serious. I've spent lots of time pondering this mystery.
It's not like an age. It's more like you inhabit a State of Foxyness (SOF). Like a zone. See, like you've got the Danger Zone, the Twilight Zone, and the Foxy Zone, and probably some others.
Here's how I spotted this phenomenon. I noted that I see females all the time that are about your calendar age. They generally look their age.
Then, I look at you and you are not on that plane. Not part of that dimension. It's not that you look like you're twenty, or thirty, or any particular age. In my eyes, you are not even a resident of that continuum.
Forget age. It's more like flavor. If you were a flavor, you would be delicious. And it would not matter whether you had been in the bottle for 20 years or 80. You would still taste great. Yeah. It's more like that. Yes. In fact, this is the best I've done in trying to understand it or explain it to myself. Imagine if your eyes, like mine, can see taste, and whenever you see me, you see delicious. That's how I see you.
Yup. Nailed it! I knew it would be clever.
What do you think?
Ceci
It's true, you are quite clever.
[DUUUUUDES!! Voteâ for the happy delusion of ageless beauty.]
Photos 1-15: Taken and owned by the authors, 2018.