If you've been paying attention to my social media musing as of late, you might have noticed a cryptic message I tweetered a few nights back:
Now I'm not normally one for melancholy remembrances (too practical for that, I guess) but recently I have been thinking back on the old days with great fondness and this memory is certainly one of my favorites.
No Ill Will
Do not misunderstand me, Ben Franklin was a gentleman of the highest order and not one prone to cowardly and unprovoked assaults. He was, however, a degenerate trickster who took great delight in pranks and sophomoric hijinks.
I cannot recall what brought me to The City of Brotherly Love that summer, as cheesesteaks had yet to be invented, but I do remember with great clarity the moment Mr. Franklin stepped out from behind a corner of Carpenter's Hall and jammed his balled up fist directly into my lower back.
A Simple Suggestion
On many previous occasions I had expressed to Mr. Franklin how little I cared for these crude attempts at humor but all my protestations up to that point, had been for naught. After recovering my composure from his (quite painful) greeting, I turned to him and with menace in my voice suggested he "go do something productive, like flying a kite."
Well, you know the rest. Ben went on to be remembered as one of the greatest minds this country has ever seen while I made my name as the purveyor of the world's best beef jerky. I guess you could say we both came out on top.