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The Jacksons

We need to get away,” said Andrew Jackson leaning back in his chair and tossing his section of the newspaper onto the table so emphatically that his wife Rose had to put out her hand to stop it from sliding off the edge and onto the floor. Rose looked at the paper for a moment before she responded.

“The news is that bad huh?” she said. “Maybe we should just stop getting the paper. That’d be a lot cheaper than a getaway.”

“It’s not the news,” said Andrew. “It’s just… life. It’s only November and it hasn’t really been cold and we’ve only had snow for about two weeks and I’m already sick of winter. Some people develop lactose intolerance, I seem to have developed winter intolerance. Maybe I’ll take Jennifer up on her offer to look after the farm so I can run away to Mexico for three or four months.”

“We must be getting old, you and I,” said Rose. “We had this same conversation last week and here we are having it again.”

“We are getting old,” said Andrew, “which is why you should run away to Mexico with me. I guarantee you we wouldn’t have this conversation in Mexico. If we stay here we’ll probably have it again next week.”

“If you have this conversation again next week you’ll have to have it by yourself,” said Rose.

“Fine,” said Andrew. “I will. At least when I talk to myself I know somebody’s listening.”

“I’m listening,” said Rose. “I’m just losing interest.” She picked up the newspaper and studied it for a moment. “On the other hand,” she said, “we could change the topic just a tad and talk about something we might actually do sometime rather than rambling on about impossible fantasies.”

Andrew looked suddenly suspicious. “Oh really?” he said. “What did you see in there that I missed?” he asked, gesturing toward the paper.

Rose grinned. “Cheap flights to Las Vegas,” she said.

“Now how did I miss that?” said Andrew. “Oh wait. It’s probably because I’ve never been interested in going to Las Vegas.

“You missed it because you were too busy looking for bad news,” said Rose. She got up from her chair and walked around the table to sit down in the chair next to Andrew. “Let me paint you a picture,” she said leaning up against him and putting her head on his shoulder.

“Go ahead and paint,” said Andrew. “I’m watching.”

“OK,” said Rose, “here goes. The sun is shining. It’s 27° outside… no, wait, it’s 80° outside because we’re in the United States. We are lounging by a huge outdoor pool, all by ourselves because Americans don’t swim outdoors unless it’s at least 90°. It’s two in the afternoon and we just had breakfast (complimentary I might add) after a long night’s sleep and even though it’s two in the afternoon we’re already enjoying a cold Budweiser. And do you know what we did last night?”

“I can imagine.” Although Rose couldn’t see his face she could hear the smile in Andrew’s voice.

“Not that,” said Rose. “I mean we did that of course, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about what we did before we did that.”

“Um, OK, I have no idea,” said Andrew. “What did we do?”

“We went to the Donnie and Marie Osmond show,” said Rose, “and guess what we’re going to do later tonight?”

“Really?” said Andrew. “We’re going to do that again?”

“Yes, but before that,” said Rose. “Do you know what we’re going to do?”

“No,” said Andrew. “I don’t.”

“We’re going to go see Kenny Rogers,” said Rose. “And do you know why we are going to see Kenny Rogers tonight after seeing Donnie and Marie the night before?”

“Because Kenny Rogers is awesome?” said Andrew hopefully.

“No,” said Rose. “We’re going to do it because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, so no one else will ever know.”

She paused to let the picture sink in. Andrew was silent for a long moment.

“Kenny Rogers is awesome though,” he said finally.

“Of course he is darling,” said Rose, “but that doesn’t mean everybody has to know we went to see him.”

There was another pause.

“There’s only one problem with your picture,” said Andrew.

“Really?” said Rose. “Is it serious?”

“Pretty serious.”

“What?” said Rose.

“Budweiser,” said Andrew. “I don’t think I can drink Budweiser.”

“But it’s 80°,” said Rose hopefully.

“Maybe if it was 100,” said Andrew.

Rose pondered that for a minute.

“I have a solution,” she said eventually. “We’ll drink Corona.”

“I can drink Corona,” said Andrew. “If it’s 80° out.”

Rose tilted her head to look up at him. “Really?” she said.

Andrew leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Las Vegas, here we come,” he said.

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