Hell, no. I won’t go!
I’m feeling 60s. Not 60s like my age, but 60s as in 1960s. Yes, I participated in protests back in the 60s, but that was a lifetime ago and in recent years I’ve become soft. It’s high time for me to make a difference, to step up and be counted, to organize my own personal peace protest. (Organize may be too strong a term.) Perhaps I’ll reach back into classic protest history in honor of the 1969 John Lennon-Yoko Ono Sleep-In. Do you think I can get some press coverage if I spend a week or so in bed in pursuit of world peace?
I’ll allow a few select individuals to visit me. They can bring lattes and almond croissants and peaches. The peach harvest is fabulous this year. That can be a sub-theme—peaches for peace. They can bring me trashy magazines and DVDs. I could use a manicure and a pedicure since I’ll spend a lot of time just staring at my feet so a manicurist must be summoned, hopefully early in the week.
No, I’m not lazy—I have a cause. Give peace a chance.