Renegade

It was 40 years ago this week that I was placed on an FBI watch list.

My husband and I, 

along with his brother and his family

were 'down the shore' in New Jersey on vacation.

We'd sit around in the evening, 

trying to pick up a TV signal from Philadelphia

to watch the drama of the crook 

who insisted he wasn't one.

The country knows better now;

we knew better then.

His degree of crookedness may be open for debate

but his morally black soul isn't -

plus, he was a Republican.

Enough said -

at least for us.

My parents and grandparents sat on the screened front porch,
"watching the world go by"

in total darkness, 

trying to avoid both our conversations 

and the reality that their votes had helped bring the chaos about.

Earlier that week, I sent a charming post card to a friend back home -

upon which I had written:
"Where are assassins when you really need them?"

Just in case you're contemplating doing the same -
the FBI really doesn't like it.

At least they didn't then -
and I highly doubt that they've developed a sense of humor
 in the intervening years!

Just sayin'.