Thomas Jefferson purportedly said, "All men are created equal." Which, of course, is blatantly untrue.
Now, I'll concede all men should be treated equally, but we ain't all equal. If we were, I'd be playing centerfield for the Braves and hitting 50 home runs a year. Try as I might, unfortunately, I couldn't even start for my high school team. I guess I should have realized maybe I wasn't the next Hank Aaron when the coach kept asking didn't I have piano lessons or something else to attend.
Any man who has ever watched the movie "Boggie Nights" about the life of John Holmes knows we ain't all created equal. I'm pretty sure Einstein was smarter than me. I'm willing to bet that I could go to the track and run hundred-yard sprints until I fell over dead in a ditch and I would not be able to outrun Carl Lewis. I could work out six times a day, eat protein bars until they grew out of my ears and I still would never be built like Arnold.
But, you know, after attending a recent band party in Albany, I think I must acknowledge that alcohol does make all men equal. You see, you can be the greatest dancer who ever hit the floor. I mean you could make Sammy Davis Jr. look like he was a stiff-leg Mormon and, after about eight drinks, you'll be floundering around on the floor like a man with his pants on fire. On the other hand, you can come straight off a tractor, with your shirt sleeves rolled up, farmer's tan in place and the rhythm of a tree sloth and after eight drinks move like Michael Jackson. See, alcohol makes 'em all equal.
The same holds true in the dating scene. A woman can be a 10 but after shooting tequila for three hours she'll look like Rosie O'Donnell without makeup. Well, that's if Rosie O'Donnell actually ever wears makeup. But, on the other hand, a woman can enter a bar at 8 o'clock at night ugly enough to make a train take a dirt road, but by the end of the night, she'll have the radiant glow of a Disney princess. I tell ya, it is the great equalizer.
Are you interested in having a game of wits, or challenging to see who is most intelligent? Match up a Harvard Professor with the ticket taker at the local movie theater and, after a fifth of tequila, it will be hard to decide which is which.
Want to be a professional bowler? Let everyone drink from a keg a beer all day and I doubt you could pick the pro from the Thursday night bowler. Come to think of it, the Thursday night guy would probably win because he has more practice in that condition.
With this said, I must deduce that the entire Congress and Senate, along with the president, held a giant beer keg/tequila shooting party and then cast their votes for some sort of debt ceiling bill or another.
These guys are supposed to be America's brightest and most capable, but I'm pretty sure a bouncer in a strip club in Atlanta could do as good of a job as these folks. Let's see now, we run the debt up 25 percent in two years, threatening to destroy the credit rating of the country, so the solution is to increase the amount we borrow and promise to cut back spending eight or 10 years down the line.
I think I'll try that with my local bank. I'd like to borrow about $100,000, no collateral, but I promise I will cut back spending in an equal amount, but not this year, probably in four or five years. Come to think of it, make that 30 or 40 years, cause when I die, I'm pretty sure I'll cut back on my spending.
Good grief, I think I'd rather go back and watch the farmer's tan dance off.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at firstname.lastname@example.org.