It was my birthday, and my long time bartender and good friend Barbara had given me a birthday card. It had a picture of a squirrel with an enormous scrotum on the cover, and made a joke about nuts inside. She had included a handwritten note, which I thought was extremely touching. I set it aside after reading it, and went back to making notes on the margins of the fantasy football newsletter I was reading. The notes were for myF4PB (also know as Snowy Biscuit). Barb came down and asked, "Could you read my note?"
"I have such bad handwriting," she complained.
"Don't be silly. You write very well. My handwriting, on the other hand, is awful. Here," I said, turning my printout toward her. "Look at this."
She took the paper and started reading out loud what I had just written about a head coach. "That bald-headed sack of shit motherfu..."
"Umm, maybe the comment above that one? At least, if you're gonna read it out loud."
She laughed. "OK, your handwriting is worse. But mine is bad, too."
"If that makes you happy."
A number of years ago I had made a New Year's resolution not to argue with Barbara, which had made life much easier, and I saw no reason to break it now.