III% Toothpaste

Just about two weeks ago, I rolled my toothpaste tube up inside that little plastic thingee with the platen inside a plastic tube, designed to get every last drop of toothpaste out of this poor, now twisted and flattened tube. Ran out and bought a brand new tube so I would be sure not to run out.

Now we all know I wasn't in any immediate danger of going without toothpaste. I'm sure all who read this know that just because a tube appears empty to the non-discerning eye, that sucker will still produce that Tomato-Horn-worm-shaped blob with the little curly thing on the back for at LEAST one more day. And one more. And one more.

Two weeks! I've been pushing up on the bottom of that collar that runs around the cap and squeezing out globs of paste.

This morning, it died.

I could no longer squeeze, twist, push, or cajole even enough to clear the opening. My friend for so long had expired. With a solemnity not usually reserved for such, I placed its cap on it with a jaunty twist, slowly unrolled it from its binding within the hated plastic roller thingee, and gently placed it in a comfortably plastic lined waste receptacle. Then I saluted.

You see, this lowly tube of toothpaste, like so many toothpaste tubes who had gone before, had given its all. I think back on all the tubes I've used in my lifetime, and think how I've always been amazed that when you're sure no more will be able to be pushed from the tube, for far longer than they should, they continue to give.

We aging patriots are like that tube of toothpaste I laid to rest this morning. It gave 97% with no worries, no qualms, no doubts it would be there when it was full and you wanted to brush your teeth.
As it got older, it may have needed a little support, so it used that plastic thingee. But when everyone figured it was done, that last 3% held on much longer, and gave more, than any man, woman, or child could ever expect. It HELD, despite all the powers against it.

I'd like to think that I am like that tube of toothpaste. I'm older, disabled, tired, frustrated, angry; all the things that give crotchety old men a reputation for being crotchety old men. I've been there when called all my life, and given whatever was asked with little pressure or incentive. And now, the governments got us in one of those little plastic thingees and is squeezing every thing they can out of us.

But I still got that last 3%. And three percent can go a long way. Three percent can be the turning point. Just ask a Patriot. Just ask your III% toothpaste. And until my last breath, when I've been squeezed dry, I'll KEEP giving so this country can have as proud a future, as it has a past. I am a patriot. One of the three percent who think this country should be based on the writings of men who wrote FOR men. Who were the 3% of their time, long ago, that made the difference for us today. Those who gave their all, and were squeezed dry by tyranny, who claimed independence and wrote the Constitution. I am one of the III, and I will HOLD.

Remember those men. Stand and cry "Here I stand, and evil WILL NOT PASS." And when tyranny faces you, show those pearly whites your toothpaste gave its all for, and SMILE!