If we didn’t play ball in the alleys, we played pinners against the front-stoop with a pinkie or fastpitch against the factory wall. What we didn’t want to do is hit our only league into the yard of Mr. Hardwick, who had Baron, the meanest German Shepard you could imagine on patrol. Baron drooled with desire when he saw us come near, the dream of tearing off a piece of our skin or even a finger or two making him crazy.

Crime has never stopped paying. How naïve I have been all my life thinking that one day it would…not pay.

I could see him as he talked. The mouth surrounded by the scraggly beard, moving at a thousand miles an hour. Him walking and talking at the same time since he never sat for too long in any one place. Medium height, medium build, and large hands with fingers, which had been broken years ago. The hands hid the story of a man feared by many when he was much younger.

Do you know the history of the White Elephant?

Oh, the storied tales of White Elephant Christmases gone by! The triumph and defeat! The never-ending variations on the tradition from family to family, office to office! I am giddy just thinking about it. But first, let me back up for those who know not of the White Elephant.

I got a call. I needed to go to a home. A redneck case. Trailer trash in an apartment. Truancy issue with a 6th grader, as if showing up to school was going to change his future.

Finally, no American citizen will be forced to own a government issued weapon and can opt out and refuse, or return their weapon at any point in their life. Children will have the same choice at age 18.

Excuse me, do you know where the restroom is?

I must confess to you, I smell like a petri dish.

Chicago self-isolation, Day 11— By now my boyfriend and I, stuck in our 400-square-foot studio, have gone through our television and movie watch-lists, stuffed ourselves with take-out, and pretty much murdered our puzzle/boardgame/book collection. Work takes up some time, but today is Saturday. We’ve been getting on each other’s nerves.

I hope to give more than I take in my limited time on this planet.  Thinking about it nightly helps me to make better choices.

Human beings began creating fermented beverages some twenty thousand years ago. Alcohol has been a staple of the economies and cultures of every civilization since the advent of agriculture. It is, in part, why we are here. Today there are six hundred bottles of alcohol for every human being on earth, which means that statistically, you... are beer? I don’t know how statistics work.

Now, is any of that accurate? I don’t know. I ran out of time today and didn’t look it up. But by the end of my time here, I will convince you that booze is far superior to its slacker cousin weed. To get us started, I’d like to propose a drinking game. Every time you think I make a good point, take a drink. Every time you think I make a bad point, take two drinks, and you’ll start to realize I was right all along.