The ghost of Aaron Burr came by this morning while I was eating breakfast. I offered him some oatmeal. I can’t believe when I forget that ghosts don’t eat. But still when I see a form of a former person, my automatic impulse is to be a nice host and share in whatever I’m partaking.

Burr said, “No, thank you, but please keep enjoying your breakfast.”

I took a bite of my oatmeal. I really enjoy my breakfasts. I eat the same thing every morning and I never get tired of it. But then I once said the same thing about pancakes.

Burr said, “I really appreciate you not asking me about killing Alexander Hamilton. People can’t seem to avoid asking me about being the cause. I always have to point out that I killed him in a duel. No one enters into a duel and finds themselves surprised that they might be killed!”

I was so glad that I still had oatmeal to eat otherwise I would have said something dumb to try and make him feel better.

Burr said, “I’m sorry to get so utterly caught up in my complaining ways. Tell me what’s up with you.”

I finished chewing my oatmeal and said, “Well, I recently finished a record album. It’s called, Brooks Takes His Time.”

Burr said, “I like the title.”

I said, “Thanks. It sums up that I took my time.”

Burr said, “Yes, that’s exactly what I felt.”

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