Post-Election Hyper-Helpfulness

His car wouldn’t start.

I offered him my battery

the one I bought two years ago

to replace the one

my father-in-law installed

after a Syracuse winter

drained the original

His hood wouldn’t open.

I offered him my toolbox

the one my dad gave me with

the blue-handled tools and the

blue plastic case with

“Do It Herself”

stamped on the cover

His flashlight went out.

I offered him my penlight

the one from the Air Force chaplain

handed out at the

Pastor Appreciation Luncheon in

thanks for our ministry to

the airbase personnel

His know-how failed him.

I offered him my laptop

the one my mother donated

to the church when she

no longer needed it, which

was later delivered to me as a

no-hard-feelings parting-gift

His persistence dwindled.

I offered him a cup of hot tea

He chose the inexpensive, store-brand

ginger tea and sat on the hood

drinking and listening to

the chirping of the dying battery

the hooting of the neighborhood owl