So who was Jarod? Just a local guy who played music, a husband, a dad, a man I frequently argued with on FB, and out in the community, a man gone too soon, too suddenly. We were on opposite ends of every political issue, local and national, and he just hated Christians. We were supposedly the great oppressors of all things good.
Once he protested a local fudge shop, a candy store, because they supported Donald Trump. He wanted them shut down, blacklisted, and run out-of-town. I thought he was being as asshat.
He was being an asshat.
Once after a heated FB discussion about immigration, socialism, and the horrors of my alleged “wealthy white Republican elitism,” I bussed his table in a bar, in a Mexican restaurant no less, brought him another drink, and introduced myself formally. “Hi Jarod, I’m your great oppressor.” Your latte colored restaurant servant, your…
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