The Shorty Club

In this cozy corner of contemplation, where the air is thick with the aroma of?bourbon?and the gentle wisps of a?cigar, we gather to muse upon life’s curiosities. Here, there are no rigid rules, no prescribed paths—just the ebb and flow of conversation, like the amber liquid swirling in our glasses.

Bourbon Whiskey: Our faithful companion, aged to perfection, whispers tales of oak barrels and distant Kentucky hills. Each sip carries the weight of history, the warmth of camaraderie, and the promise of shared secrets.

Cigar in the Ashtray: Resting gracefully, its ember glowing like a distant star, the cigar invites reflection. Its fragrant tendrils weave stories of contemplation, of pensive evenings spent unraveling the threads of existence.

And so, my fellow Shorty Club members, let us raise our glasses—whether they hold bourbon or simply the elixir of thought—and toast to the musings that bind us. Here’s to wit, wisdom, and the delightful randomness of it all. ??P.S. If you happen upon a particularly intriguing topic, feel free to share it with the club. We’re all ears (and taste buds).?

?The Steward

The pace had been daunting for any man but especially trying on the man looking to ensure democracy prevailed and convince the country that he could achieve it with their support. His health had been deteriorating for some time and it was now apparent, not only to his personal physician, but also his colleagues. The grueling schedule was no help, but such was the pace of this profession, and particularly this position. A recent bout with the flu, referred in the media as a cold, was not helping the situation. As time wore on, the man became thinner and frailer but he refused to relent to the symptoms plaguing him. The efforts to make his case and the non-stop appearances must continue, according to his staff and, most importantly, his wife. His wife discovered him one day with a drooping left side of his face and numbness in his hands. He would isolate for several days until the signs cleared and were less noticeable. He had suffered a transient ischemic attack?(TIA) according to his doctor and this was the first of 3 strokes, each more debilitating than the last. The non-stop public appearances were paused and within some time would be cancelled all together. The official word about the cancellations was due to the man suffering a digestive organ reaction although those close to him knew his mental capacity due to the strokes could no longer be hidden from anyone who saw him in person. The inner circle began scrambling and deciding how to best cover the man’s condition and his sudden decrease in public appearance. Most protective was the man’s wife. She quickly assumed the role as primary handler and decision maker regarding her husband’s position and public persona. Her efforts, along with a few select insiders, were able to keep his condition hidden for some time. Eventually the press found out about it and began to report on it, however his condition was neither fully understood nor accepted by a great number of Americans. His wife termed her role as “stewardship” and she read every piece of correspondence and determined what was and was not important. She set his schedule and was the final arbiter on who got to see the man personally. The wife, not an elected official and in no capacity to do so, became the chief executive officer. She was the de facto decision maker overseeing the country in a time of great turmoil and international strife. Was it her ego or obsession with power that refused to let her make the obvious and clear choice given her husband’s condition? Did she fear falling from the public eye over making the difficult decision that was right for both her husband and the country? The year was 1919 and by 1924 the man, who was the 28th President of the United States, Woodrow Wilson would be dead. His wife Edith, until her death in 1961, insisted she was the “steward” when, according to some, she was the acting President long before women’s rights came to be. History teaches us many things and I am surely a student of it. It is time our current tenants at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue look at history and have that long, hard conversation about what is best for America and their family. There is nothing wrong with growing old, we all do it and cannot stop father time. We must accept the limitations that age unfortunately brings to us, especially regarding mental capacity when you are holding the most important job in the world.