“God on my side and a gun in my hand, chasing my days down to zero…”

A♠

 

 

 
Well, attentive readers, it’s the ace card.

 

The final, in fact.

 

And you know what that means.

 

 

 

My oath of a post a week is complete.

 

I’m proud to say I did exactly what I said I would.

 

As far as I’m concerned:

 

That’s a serious accomplishment.

 

 

 

See, this section of the ‘net ended up getting a serious rep for being “all hat and no cattle”, as my Texan friends would say.

 

So I do my damnedest to be different.

 

To complicate matters, I don’t skillfully craft crass humor that shocks people into attentiveness.

 

I don’t pen countless portmanteaus in scathing attacks on the status quo.

 

And obviously don’t pay Fiverr workers to crib other blogs then post them to mine.

 

Oddly enough, I’m different because I’m just a man.

 

 

 

I’m just a man that’s made more mistakes than a dyslexic in a speed-reading competition.

 

I’m just a man that had his heart broken so often and savagely that the pieces had to melted down and reforged, rather than glued back together.

 

I’m just a man that makes a serious effort to answer every comment, call and email.

 

A man that helps guys getting out of jail.

 

Guys close to suicide.

 

Guys trying to figure out a world cloaked in deceit and duplicity.

 

Folks told to find the cookie in the corner of round room.

 

 

 

You know, it’s funny.

 

I think I’ve saved more people since they took my badge and gun than I ever did while I had them.

 

Which is even more impressive when I stop to consider these demons are infinitely more dangerous.

 

Most crooks will only rob or, even less likely, kill you.

 

The fiends we fight here will get you to send your own soul to Hell.

 

 

 

No, I didn’t save the world.

 

But I believe I’ve done my part, if not more.

 

Now, I won’t promise another 52 for 2019.

 

But I’ll try my damnedest to do it, nonetheless.

 

 

 

So pour yourself a drink (non-alcoholic, if necessary).

 

And, if you’d be so kind:

 

Toast my health.

 

Drink to the fellow that didn’t stand miles behind the line, barking orders.

 

The fellow that stood shoulder to shoulder with you in the trench.

 

The fellow that looked you in the eye as he blew the whistle to go over the top.

 

And made damn sure he was a step ahead of you charging the enemy so you were absolutely, positively, indisputably certain—

 

You weren’t doing it alone.

 

A♠