Dad’s Irish was up! Turning the page, I beheld dad standing in front of the house in his Marine Corps Dress Blue Uniform following Boot Camp at MCRD...in San Diego. Dad had been so mad the morning after the announcement by the president, he got on a bus, rode down to the Marine recruiter, and joined up. Mom always said that one look at his face when he came home and she knew that any argument was useless. I was standing next to dad in the photo, dressed in a smaller uniform just like dad’s, that. Sure, his apartment in Frederick was a couple of cuts above the duplex Eddie and I lived in, and it was in a lot better part of town, but it wasn't ostentatious by any means.It was exactly the kind of apartment I'd have rented, if I'd have gotten a signing bonus.Which I hadn't.But Alex was an OK guy, and I got along with him about as well as I did anybody else on the club except for my road roomy, Ollie Parker. Me and Ollie were especially tight. I wasn't exactly surprised when Alex invited me. No, it was about convenience. ‘I don’t know Skyler, I don’t know.’ ‘Great fuckin answer, Miranda.’ ‘You got a better one?’ ‘I know one fucking thing.’ ‘What?’ asked Miranda. ‘I can’t be your fucking bridesmaid.’ ‘What the hell does that mean?’ asked Miranda, sitting up on the bed. ‘Miranda, I can’t watch you get married. Are you fucking crazy?’ ‘Why am I crazy?’ asked Miranda, throwing the cover off. Miranda put her hand on her lover’s shoulder. She gave Skyler’s collarbone a slight kiss, but. I was sorting it out, trying to separate the spin from the BS. I went with my guts. There were things the Republicans said that I agreed with and things the Democrats said I liked.I would marry the two. Make something... Centrist. Populist. I just wanted to make a world where everyone had the opportunity to be happy. And not just here in the United States. This far into the twenty-first century, and there were still parts of the world suffering. Africa was a mess, the Middle East and Central.