Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

My friend Peg comes this Labor Day Weekend to hang out at River House. I can’t wait, since she is a card carrying Democrat and by then I’ll need reinforcements. The Republican National Convention will be over, but the images will linger.

I alerted Earl about her arrival and he said (This is a direct quote), “If she starts that Democratic &*%^#@, I’m going to throw her in the river. “Don’t do that until Sunday,” I suggested. “She’s planning to cook for us Saturday night, and you know she’s a dynamite cook.” “Then I’ll eat on the deck, alone,” he answered. I called Peg and told her to bring a swimsuit.

Earl, Peg, and I go back a ways. We’ve observed Chicago politics and Washington chicanery together before. We’ve done national conventions too, always with Peg and me on one side and Earl on the other. Two to one might sound lopsided, but Earl holds his own rather well.

So this Labor Day Weekend will be filled with supercilious remarks, one-upmanship, double entrendres, and lots of laughter. We’ll cook, drink, talk, and not convince anyone to change his or her political affiliation. It’s a great way to end the summer.