...I'm trying to come cold turkey off ranting and worrying about stuff I can't fix by shouting at it, and I confess it's harder than I thought it would be.  This is only day two... I found some flowers out in Estelle's yard and they took my mind off Thomas Cotton's letter to "the Leaders of Iran" and all that other silliness happening back in Washington.  I've noticed, by the way, that his buddies on the Hill are calling him Tom, not Thomas... even in the newspapers and on the radio and on television they call him Tom... and I'm guessing some of them even call him Tommy, and that would never have happened when he was a boy in Arkansas. I'll bet that's one of the things that happened when he was up at Harvard.  His mother would not have called him Tommy or even Tom.  By damn she named him Thomas for a reason and that's what people should call him. I was calling him by some other names a couple of days ago, but that's in the past.  That's over.  Some of the people out in  California probably thought my cousin whom we called Bobby Joe was really Robert Joseph, but of course he wasn't.  He was always Bobby Joe.  And I'm pretty sure the junior senator from Arkansas is really Thomas Cotton. Oh, Hell.  I thought the hibiscus and some roses had taken my mind of him, but I guess I slipped off the wagon there for a minute.  Tomorrow is another day.  Maybe I'll check to see if there is a Rantaholic's Anonymous around here somewhere that I can join. ...but can you imagine anybody calling Thomas Jefferson something like Tom Jefferson or Tommy Jefferson.  I'll bet when the junior senator from Arkansas thinks about it he'll switch right back to being Thomas Cotton.