John Maynard Keynes famously said that when the facts changed, his mind changed. That's flip-flopping and I don't tolerate it. When the facts change what do I do? I tell those facts to kiss my ass because I will not be bullied by anyone or anything.

When I touched the kitchen window this morning it was chilly, so I suited up in full a sweatsuit. Outside I was smothered by a wall of heat so intense that Satan himself would beg for a glass of ice water.

But, I had committed to it being chilly and to participating in today's thirteen-mile charity walk so, I walked. The weather doesn't own me. I own the weather. And that is exactly what I told the EMTs who pumped me full of fluids in order to revive me after a wicked tussle with heat stroke.

Now, I am no academic but I've done serious research on this. It is important. The stakes are no less than our society's integrity.

Flip-flopping began in earnest in 1979. It took off right around the same time hip-hop did. The data clearly demonstrates that if you hip-hop it's more likely you'll flip-flop and won't stop until you bang bang the boogie to the boogie say up jump the boogie.

I've never even flip-flopped on flip-flopping.

My first word was “pasghetti.” You can say “spaghetti” all you want, but fact is, I say pasghetti. You can take your dictionary back to the li-berry.

When I was seven I refused to throw away my favorite action figure “Demonstrably Dangerous Danny” after he was recalled on account of the substantial quantity of mercury they found in his paint. My hands burned if I held him too long, but that was an imagination booster. Anyways, after a while I couldn't even feel my hands at all, so all good.

When my mom left my dad and married Pete, did I ever call him dad? Give me a break. I called him Jerry. That was my dad's name and I would not flip-flop. Fuck off, Jerry! (Jerry-Pete, Jerry, not you.)

In 2016 I turned 18 and voted for Mitch McConnell. And I've voted for Mitch McConnell ever since. I have voted for Mitch in every election. If it so happens that he is not in fact running for our town's comptroller, I write him in. Make a choice, stick with it.

Two months ago my doctor informed me that I did not have Mono. He told me what I had was, medically speaking, “Super Syphilis.”

Let me be clear: WebMD said I had Mono. And per WebMD, I've been snorting Vitamin C and intermittently fasting to treat my Mono. If that medical jamoke thinks I would just up and stop treating Mono to start treating Super Syphilis, well, he's got another thing coming, and that thing is a lecture on flip-flopping.

Speaking of Super Syphilis, I recently went to watch Mitch McConnell speak. One thing was evident to all three of us in the audience: the super-majority of his base had flip-flopped away.

Let me tell you why I admire Mitch so much. Mitch hasn't flip-flopped from believing himself to be a viable political candidate or a good human being. Despite the near infinite pool of evidence suggesting otherwise.

That is what I call a leader.

Recently I became a father of a beautiful baby boy. A little man made in my image, to carry on my name, my legacy. Demonstrating consistency and honor is more important than ever, which is why I'm going to toss on another heavy winter coat for good measure and and finish this race.

Because, like Mitch, I am a leader. The leader of my family. And they are waiting for me at the finish line. My beautiful wife and son.

And even though she recently divorced me after screaming that “Claire is a baby girl” and “if I keep referring to our daughter as my son, Barry, she is going to make the court revoke visitation,” I decided that she would be there, Barry, too. And so they are.

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