By Butch Freedman
My father was the best man ever. Everybody says that. He even gave me a small loan of a million dollars to start my first business. He said I needed to make it on my own. He never did say he loved me, but men don’t say things like that. Everything I’ve accomplished (and it’s more than anyone in the whole world if you wanta know the truth) I did to make my father proud. I wish he had said those words, though. Maybe it was the bankruptcies, and the marriages. It doesn’t matter. Look where I am now, Dad.
People say that I’m a very handsome man. They say that I’m aging in reverse. It’s true. Just look at me. The hair is especially nice—very full. Lots of younger women tell me that. I love women you know, at least the beautiful ones. I know I’m not supposed to say that. But I don’t care. I love beautiful things, the best things. Look at what I’ve done with this old, falling apart house. Nobody will ever forget how much I’ve done here. But I don’t get credit. They say I’m tacky. But those are dumb people. Dumb women reporters. I let them know that they are idiots. Why should I hold back? Who dares to say anything to me about my choices. I’m probably the smartest man who ever lived here. Look at the tests I’ve taken. And they were hard tests too. I aced every one. Not like that old geezer who lived here before I did. I guess I’ve shown him and the one before too, that foreign-born guy.
What I like best is that I’ve now got all the power and money I’ve ever wanted. And nobody can touch me. They wouldn’t dare. They saw what happened the last time that group of whiners tried to stop me. Now, they’re the ones who are going to jail if I have any say about it—and I do. Ha ha. Who even cares about what these judges say.
The scummy people say I’m out for revenge, but I don’t have anything to do with all that. I believe people should be treated fairly. And if that means paying them a serious hunk of change for being true patriots, then so be it. My wife, though, she’s getting older while I still look the same as I did when I was thirty. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time for a change. I’ve got my eye out—when I’m not falling asleep. What’s wrong with a little nap here and there? I’m up all night as it is, putting out important statements and also some of those clever, what do you call em, memes. I think everybody really loves them — and me. I bet Dad would love me too now. Don’t you think?
Book available on Amazon:“Old Dogs and other stories” by Butch Freedman
