This urgent bulletin just in

I have been reading Dave Barry's review of 2020. By the beginning of May I needed to run to pee and wipe my streaming eyes. As you may not know, I have TWICE received a response from Dave thanking me for my suggestion for an article based on an weird news article: Thank you alert reader. Please seek professional attention immediately. Or words to that effect as I can't locate those postcards. They must be with my other "awards". 

This is by way of confirming that I AM a devoted fan who loved his columns, and laugh uncontrollably when reading his books. I am going to make this a brief post, so you can more profitably spend any time you might have spent reading me, reading a master's take on the year whose passing we collectively, fervently, and impatiently await. Here is the link: 

Dave Barry's Year in Review   (https://preview.tinyurl.com/ybgvxq4x)

If you are unable to get past the paywall you just cough up the current $29 for a year's unlimited access. It is worth it to get access to Alexandra Petri's regular offerings. I also enjoy Dana Milbank and Eugene Robinson enough to get their columns sent to my email.

For visual interest I have enclosed a hand made birthday card I received from one of MY alert readers, who might also benefit from more mental health intervention than I am currently benefiting from (as she recognized a birthday I had previously disparaged in my blog). But the way things are going these days, I just can't hold a grudge: my memory is no longer functioning as intended.

Annual Christmas letters

 I have been the occasional recipient of these over the decades. As I never reciprocate, they have diminished over time. The one I received today is an argument for anyone crafting the summary of their year, even or because COVID.

I have many quirks (failings) regarding social norms. Here are a few egregious examples:

I don't send Christmas cards. As a child I was part of the Slate Family Card Corporation which yearly began with an original design (entirely Dad, and a few times me), one or more silk screen stencils were cut (Dad), then the assembly line was employed. Following a successful screening (Dad) one of us kids would transfer the this product to an away place to dry. In the case of multiple color applications this last step was repeated.

Meanwhile... Mom was checking her Christmas Card list to cull non-reciprocators (applying her opaque and now unknowable standards). All year she had updated this list to include newly formed family units, address, and name changes. This was a task I never appreciated until I started to keep an address book of my own and experienced the exactitude and relentlessness of this activity.

Once the cards were completed, Mom would start signing, adding personal notes, and hand addressing an envelope, which together with the card were passed to her support staff to sign. The assembly line was then reformed to stuff, stamp, and seal the envelopes (NON-self sealing, of course.).

I think that Mom was able to off load envelope addressing for recipients who did not get a personal note. I am unsure about this, but as I wrote the details of our corporate effort I am appalled at how her support staff's efforts pale in comparison to her essential, and intrepid contributions. 

I am not one to dwell on regrets for things not done, but I have one very large one: We (I) should have saved every example of our creative collaboration so I would now be in possession of this trove. And in this case (and others as my heart continues to soften) wish I had let Mom know I SAW her love in action.

I don't give Christmas gifts. Of course I did this as expected up until I had an epiphany about why Christmas season made me so miserable. Historically, it was almost entirely based on the poisonous idea that unless I can give the Perfect gift to a loved one, they will doubt that I do love them. It was in a twelve-step meeting (of similar self-sabotagers *) that I heard and adopted one person's solution: just do the stuff that you enjoy. For me that meant no more uninspired gifts on gift mandated events/dates.

One shining year I discovered the perfect gift for Dad: I ordered him a custom electric branding iron so he could "sign" his wood based furniture, frames, art, etc. Decades earlier he had designed a logo of his initials which I provided for the custom brand. I shared the gifting of this with my sibs, as they too were unable to find something he wanted and had not acquired himself. So perfect was this gift (which he retroactively employed to any earlier creation he encountered) that it pleased him annually to remember it's perfection, and we were warmed knowing we had so pleased him.  Now THAT is my idea of good gift giving. When I have an idea of another gift for another loved one, I just give it. Calendar and tradition be damned. I think of myself as "sand in the gears" of routine gifting.

However today, I got a short-hand Covid informed version of the genre: What my fabulous family has been up to. And it brightened my day. It cut to the chase life-wise: it is how we choose to spend our time and with whom, being thankful for what is possible, and accepting (at least in the moment) what we can't do and who we aren't with.

In conclusion, I have pictured here a birthday card I received from one of my blog recipients. How brave that was! The cat and caption warmed this slowly thawing persona I inhabit.

May this holiday season warm your hearts, affirm our collective care for each other, and get the fuck over with already (including December birthdays).

*When I googled the term self-sabotagers to check the spelling I discovered a 12-Step program designed for the current me: Self Sabotage & Misery Addicts Anonymous. I wonder if they served cookies pre-Covid.

A "celebration" of the 60's

Today it occurred to me that I have two 60's to "celebrate". The first one is the 1960's era. As a boomer born in Dec. 1951, I spent the ages of 9 through 18 in that roiling decade. Most notably for me was the nationwide anger and inability to have civil conversations across the divide*

*over sex, drugs, rock and roll, world view, the meaning patriotism, and the Viet Nam war. Oh, and of course men's hair length.

 

Tree like walls

As my clever readers will have sussed out: by "celebrate" I mean celebrate the end of. My principal coping mechanism for surviving such an angry society was a tortoise like retreat into my shell. I lost myself in my room (which Dad had helped me transform into a sort of tree house, with soft green flooring and rich medium brown cork walls). There was no furniture in this oasis except a small caned rocking chair of unknown heritage which could not bear weight. I slept on a rug which Dad helped me shop for in a rug store, where I tested several by lying down on them. He truly supported me through my teens, which were not so much DIFFICULT (for him) as Puzzling (to both of us). He designed and built a walnut fold down drawing surface mounted on one wall (OK, there was also a stool) and a matching built-in walnut book and music cabinet. I checked out art prints from the Portland library for visual interest. (see note below regarding my possessions) In this period I was obsessed with art and the 1966 horrific flood in Venice prompted me to "consider" joining the art rescue effort. Except for required school attendance (I loathed H.S.) I spent nearly all my time in my room reading, drawing, and listening to music. Blessedly, during those years we spent weekends at our co-owned beach house in Neskowin. Without that haven, I might have had no outside life. Here is a safe link (Neskowin House) to this amazing house we owned until we kids scattered to college and/or jobs. I loved that sanctuary from daily life which held many artistic flourishes (Dad's works) and a tiny two bunk bedroom that was my hide-hole.

Note on my teen age possessions in my tree house "bed" room. This was the #2 house Mom and Dad designed and had built (#1 for lessons learned). All the rooms had recessed storage, so I had a large closet and a bank of drawers with overhead shelves. All of which I kept neat, organized, and under-filled! I have always been me, sadly.

And now for the second 60's: mine. I have my final 60's birthday in three days. Great! This decade has certainly been difficult. My dad died when I was 61, then I shared the next 4 years with just my difficult parent, until her death at 91 (I was 65). The next four years of my life were under the Orange Kool-aid Presidency (I need not elaborate here). And similar to the 60's era, half of  MY 60's have been marked by another great divide**

**over science (and almost all other reality), as well as whether we are Americans with any shared culture, values or desire to remain a functioning democracy. At least there is not a hot bed of discord regarding men's hair length (who has the time?)

So there you have my two-sixt-ies. in a nut shell. And they were both similarly nutty, and like nuts in one's diet, best consumed in moderation (a choice I rarely make).

New use for an existing design element in the time of Covid

First a little history of my peregrinations around Eugene since moving here in the 70's. My then husband and I rented a house in South Eugene for many many years until the 80's when I was making enough income to buy a house and bullied him into being a co-homeowner. He was a very fearful (mortgage!) and resentful (sure, YOU can afford it) guy. Which fear and resentment were aggravated by his post college attempts to parley a Geology degree into something other that working for a Houston Texas oil company with an undisclosed need for a young guy to send to the Middle East. After 5 horrible months in Houston (Feb. weather was pleasant: sure sign of a coming hell) we decided we would move to my home state as he felt his (Colo.) had little to offer job wise. I vetoed Portland as too densely occupied by family at that time. Eugene was the next biggest and, need I add, no hot bed of Geology employment in which he said he was no longer interested. Here I continued up my work experience ladder in accounting despite my degree in Math. Sadly, and perhaps inevitably, my ex never found satisfying and stable work he was willing to do in Eugene. 

That first home was in West Eugene, where we lived until after the (long inevitable) divorce in 1988. A year later I moved to an apartment in the Coburg area. It was perfect for me except it had no A/C and again my income was making ownership wiser. I decided I would like to live in central Eugene. The first one I found that was easily affordable and cute was off 18th and Garfield (Central Eugene). I purchased it in 1997 for $119K. And then over 8 years proceeded to update, improve, repair and enhance it to the tune of $48K. When insane house price inflation hit in 2005 I figured it was the ideal time to dump that cute turkey before more $$ was inevitably needed. In spite of my sizable additional sunk value I was able to clear a net gain of $28K. Then, I decided to wait out the high price mania in an apartment, once again in the Coburg area, but this time with A/C!!

In February 2007, thinking that home values had hit bottom (they so hadn't) I moved into my sweet little home on Escalante St. (River Road) During my fairly extensive search and house viewings (in Bethel and River Road) I was sure of only a few things: MUST have small yard, MUST have A/C, MUST have shade, and MUST have a flatish driveway. This resulted in my realtor (who was GREAT) being unsure what I might specifically like. So we visited several together and I was able to give him feedback as I discovered my previously-unknown-to-me preferences. Unlike my small (and bizarrely remodeled 1940's bungalow) it must be newish and not in need of any remedial effort. I had liked Garfield, but no longer wanted to buy something that would plunder my pockets. Hence I added: must be built after 2000. I found this house by going to an open house by myself. When I walked it, my immediate thought was: "what are these people doing in my house?" That was the first time I experienced love at first sight (including men). But then, homes do not need to be intelligent, wry, and kind. One could summarize my iteration of Eugene dwellings over 4 decades as:

Rent, Own, Rent, Own, Rent, Own.

This flip-flopping was driven mainly by my abhorrence of a needful yard which became a top disqualifying feature.

Now (if you have indulged me up to this point) a thoroughly tediusly summary of how I arrived at my little piece of heaven. Which I continue to decorate and organize to my minimalist, neatnik heart's content. After only a few months here I purchased something I didn't know I needed. I love to cruise River Road Resale where I have found nearly a dozen bargain priced furnishing and decor. It was here I found this simple wooden mirror ($15) perfect for my front entry. At once it called out for my mail box key on one hook and a penquin in the box. Subsequently, in the age of Covid, it presented it's second hook as the solution to having a mask at hand should anyone darken my door and meet my criteria for opening.  (Few do)

 

A statisfing encounter with click bait

Really! I am very leery of clicking on enticing offers at the bottom of things I chose to read. Often they are very tedious, occasionally disappointing, and rarely even result in locking up my browser. But this one grabbed me, as I wanted to vet my lifetime basic hairstyle. As you may not know, my hair went from straight and manageable to frizzy and wavy when I hit puberty (whence came all manner of suffering). As an added affront, this was the age of the California surfer girl who not only was everything I was not, but also sported long straight tresses which were suddenly off my menu of possibilities.

This occurred before high school: in time to ruin my 8th grade school photo. (Which I half-heartedly looked for just now. Sorry.) So, in my Freshman year of H.S. (there were 8 years of Elem.) I decided I could transform myself and blend into a larger group that had no preconceived notions of my former hideousness. I let my frizzy mop grow to enable wearing frozen juice-can sized curlers with frizz- taming Di-pity-Do* every night. How I slept on those I can no longer account for. But I have razor sharp clarity about the morning results: When I combed out my hair it was straight-ish, that lasted until Portland's humidity gained access, and then I spent the day with a huge "bouffant" of frizzy waves. It was a look that to this day has not been purposefully attained by anyone ever photographed for posterity.

I refused to surrender immediately, so I persisted in nightly torture which accomplished nothing desirable. Sometime in that horrific year (H.S. was aggressively occupied by teenagers, with which I wanted no truck) I learned that BOYS! were being allowed into swimming pools irrespective of their hair length. Females were "on the basis of SEX" required to wear swimming caps. This had to be fought. So I went to my mom's beauty salon and had my hair cut really short. Shorter than now as I have opted for a softer look as I age. This is the sort of 60's revolution I was waging. I thought all those boys with long hair and all those girls with a least a handful of hair were sheeple (before I even heard the word). They were being "individual" by conforming. I was OUT THERE! baby. A few times I was even assumed to be a boy by some adult male in spite of my generous chest! So I had my ears pierced and wore dangly earrings.

I forgot to mention how my attempt to be "a part of" and date came off the rails. Amazingly, I was voted "prettiest" girl in my home room. This was without precedent and consequent. But it scored me an invitation to a high school football game by a boy who played in the band from the bleachers. Of course I accepted in spite of my complete dis-interest, bordering on vengeful toward that sport. 

At the game, he sat at the side of a row of horn players, so I could sit next to him. We were able to talk a bit (I have no memories of this, nor his name) but this I remember: he interrupted me to say he needed to warm up his lips (I swooned). He then proceeded to blow air noisily through his lips. Our connection was brief, devoid of physical contact, shared interests or conversation. I was relieved when he announced it was not what he expected, and dropped me. But I was also puzzled. It may be that he had wanted to proceed around the bases (so to speak) with me, but was unclear that it was HIS job to initiate. Sufficient female sexual liberation for teens was likely decades away. I never had another date until college: when the available pool got much bigger, and a bit more varied. <sigh> It JUST now occurred to me that perhaps he found me a bit too conversational. Again: <sigh>

Oops! I got so caught up in my tortured past that I forgot the click bait. My "style" was not included! I shall continue to let my hair do what it wants (except grow longer). This link will take you to "30 Women's Hairstyles to Ditch this Year": https://tinyurl.com/y65r35ph

*My spell check gave me Di-pity-do. The product was actually Dippity Do. But I appreciate my spell checker pointing out that "pity" was appropriate for my styling fiasco.

A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing

Shakespeare was the man. If he lived today, he would be busy on his next play thus titled (an excerpt from Macbeth). The bard of our times peeks out occasionally in the form of a playful Washington Post contributor: Alexandra Petri. I will put a copy of today's offering in my notice to loyal (and known to me) readers. 

But I wish to share a fact check I performed on a word in the second paragraph of today's submission: the official definition of "benighted". Curiously it sounds like a description of those who have been knighted. But I suspected a sly use of this word, and was muchly rewarded.

(From Bing!)

benighted

ADJECTIVE

1. in a state of pitiful or contemptible intellectual or moral ignorance, typically owing to a lack of opportunity*.

synonyms:

ignorant · unenlightened · uneducated  etc.

2. overtaken by darkness.

"a storm developed and we were forced to wait benighted near the summit"

*Typically, but not in this case at all. The ample opportunity to cure ignorance was overwhelmed by self interest, and /or pure cravenness and America was absolutely overtaken by darkness.

 

Whew

I am starting to breath a little easier. But I am taking to heart that our deeply rooted national schism might be whether we desire (or reject the need) to grapple with our embedded racism and politically empowered corporatism.  The next four years may prove to be nearly as upsetting as the last four have been (for me), BUT thankfully without the daily poisonous drip from the White House. I eagerly anticipate some civility seepage instead.

I will be needing a new hobby when hanging on by my fingernails is no longer the most I can accomplish on any given day.

 

Also, I must add that although a reduction in heated gasses emanating from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave is a VERY welcome coming attraction, it will sadly have only a small environmental impact; urgent climate change mitigation becomes more urgent daily. The war for the survival of life on earth was damaged by four years of (worse than mere denial) active succor to the enemy. My despair was not based solely on the fucking moron, but it was certainly been made worse by him and his minions (many of whom remain in the Senate where progress goes to die).

Travels with Mary

 In the spirit of shutting out the clamorous world, I am continuing my quiet intercourse (not THAT meaning) with my readers. Here are a few added travel notes I wish to add. 

Covid

Yachats (in Lincoln County) has signs up on Hwy 101 thanking visitors for keeping their county open. It made me feel welcome and safe.

In Bandon I "stalked" a fellow motel occupant who rubbed me the wrong way. First, I noticed his humongous SUV was backed into a parking space signed as "Park Forward". Also, California plates. He walked around with his mask below his nose, which I always take as a "finger" to community safety. This was a "no pets" motel and he secreted his dog in and out of his room. I add this diatribe as evidence that my "live and let live" vibe has been pushed past it's limit this year.

Comfort

My attention to comfort, however, is still in peak operating order. My sweetie and I sleep in different latitudes and longitudes. By this I mean, he reacts as if we are in cool climes when I am throwing off everything but the sheet I require to fall asleep. I try to cool the room to my preference and if allowed and able to, he has the extra blanket and a hot water bottle I bring for his comfort. If I am NOT able and/or allowed to cool the room to my happy range, I fill the "hot" water bottle with icy water I have created via the fridge and/or ice bucket. Chilling my feet works like warming! 

As for longitudes, we operate in different time zones. By this I mean that I am usually an aggressive early riser: entirely awake with no transition state. He is a night owl at the cellular level (bless, his heart; he has no choice in this) and is awake many hours past my off switch activation and waking is a transition state that lasts for hours. Hence I have many fully awake hours in a small room wherein I am trying to make my coffee and secure breakfast on the down low. He would probably give me a B+ for effort and a C- for outcome. He is a stranger to the concept of morning coffee and sustenance. It's weird.

Coffee

Look! The three C's of today's travel: an unplanned convergence! Efforts to have the best coffee available without waking him or looking in the dark for a kiosk has a history all it's own. At home I enjoy two very dark drip cups that I can keep warm with an electric beverage warmer. Following this last trip I vowed to secure a quiet, excellent brew, hotish to the last sip and light and small to pack. This involved gear. *I have acquired and home tested a pour-over coffee and an insulated, lidded mug. I can use the provided room coffee maker to pre-warm the mug and then to drip over the "coffee bag. It made VERY good coffee. Breakfast-wise I hence forth vow to unwrap my Quest bar at home and put it in a quiet opening container. It's the least I can do for Rip Van W.

*This is a screen grab from the Amazon Kuzu page.

The yearned for/dreaded day is nigh. So I am going to share something OFF topic

 My sweetie and I have had two little forays out into Covid land prompted by a near lethal accumulation of cabin fever. Both outings have been to the Oregon Coast. The first one was one night only at  the Yachats Adobe Motel in August. We had a second floor room overlooking some rocky coast, a window which opened, and a door into a hall which was funneling cool outside air it's entire length. Until bed time we kept our hall door ajar as we delighted in cool air over my skin. He also likes it when I become human again. (I feel sexy when cool, and homicidally inclined when hot, so the difference is stark indeed.) It was a stolen ahhhhhhhh moment in the midst of 2020 horrors. For those who feel travel trepidation I can report that the venues we visited were using good virus control procedures. We had lunch in Winchester Bay at Griff's in a nearly empty and very distanced way. John ordered dinner to take out from the motel and he had a very good full dinner (excluding the bread side I claimed to accompany my soup and his salad). Safe and cheap-ish. We did find menus sporting higher costs, but rarely exorbitant

They like darndilions

 

 

 But the SECOND foray was better (except for my under-researched motel choice) I was looking for a two night slot in mid October, but left it too late. We ended up going to Bandon (nice) but in a motel which was on Hwy 101 right where the cars begin accelerating up a hill. We could however see where the boats were due to a few masts which peeked over the old town buildings. We had lunch at Griffs in Winchester Bay and pizza in our room for dinner on the first night. Day 2 we drove south to Port Orford for lunch at Griff's on the Dock! Do you see a theme emerging? Another inside dine (the wind being too brisk) and a drive around. As we lost our way in a residential hodgepodge we encountered two goats, one very small, eating alongside the road. It was magical. I would like to have a pygmy goat to take care of my weedy back yard. For dinner, we grocery shopped packaged salads and yogurt for dessert. This was a Sunday night, and the entire town seemed to shopping. This was our sole RED STATEish experience in these out of town ventures. There Were quite a few T***P yard signs.

Day 3 we dinked around in Old Town and were gob-smacked by an art installation by the Washed Ashore organization. Neither of us knew of it, and after getting back to an internet connection we discovered that it was founded and still resides in Bandon! Next trip we will see if we can visit the inside gallery. Here is the site which shows some of the offerings: https://washedashore.org/ 

My co-traveler has photos of the one outside. I will ask him to send a few.

So, then it was back to Winchester Bay where John was still game for fish, though I was ready for anything else. Next to Griff's there was a new restaurant (formerly a Christmas all year store) so I asked to check out the menu. While we were trying to read the too small print above eye level, the owner came to the door. He asked if we would like to dine on the back deck. Why, yes!. It was expansive: we were 20 feet from the only occupied table. We both sat with our backs to the sun and ordered up breakfast for lunch. He was a friendly and garrulous new owner since January (ouch). He was eager to satisfy our every request. It was a very good meal with uniquely cooked hash browns. He was eager to know if we liked them OK, as they had not been grilled. (The exhaust hood over the grill did not have a stand alone fire suppressor, and one would cost $30K, so they were improvising). They boiled potatoes, diced them small, then "dry" grilled them with a tiny bit of sprayed oil. Actually a great improvement over it's greasier cousin.

I admit I have mocked folks who rhapsodize on their culinary adventures. And I have pushed that same envelope a bit. But in the age of Covid, merely eating OUT is not just a meal, but a re-affirmation of life as we knew it and a reason to keep on keeping on.

 

 

 

It's been a month! According to the calendar.

 According to my bio/psycho/mental rhythms, a geologic week has expired. But not Me! Not yet!

The proof is that this made me laugh out loud. That is actually the only unaltered* experience that currently can put my existential terror on hold for a bit. This is an except from an article that captured my feeling toward currently Undecided Voters for president:

Maura Judkis

Oct. 19, 2020 at 3:00 a.m. PDT

The humorist David Sedaris, considering the psychology of the undecided voter, once envisioned a scenario on an airplane. A flight attendant comes through the cabin offering passengers a choice of two meals: chicken, or a “platter of s--- with bits of broken glass in it.”

“To be undecided in this election, is to pause​ for a moment and then ask how the chick​en is cooked.”

Sedaris was writing about the choice between then-Sen. Barack Obama and Sen. John McCain in 2008 — a bitter election cycle that looks impossibly serene in retrospect. This year, many people see the choice as something like chicken (boiled, unseasoned) vs. flying the plane into a mountainside.

How could anyone not be able to make up their mind between that guy and that guy?

😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

Back to me. I have changed my underwear and am ready to be surprised by another hilarious analogy (you know my email address). 

You may recall (though why would you?) that back at the beginning of THE REALLY BAD BAD BAD TIME (circa Nov. 2016) I mused that against Hillary an Electoral College warping number of SWING! State** voters voted to flip the bird at the government in the insane belief that our system would shrug off a lethal attack. They were disastrously wrong. If this year they do not repent sufficiently by voting for a non-lethal candidate there is no hope.

Ok, now I need to crawl back into bed with a cat and a puzzle book.

😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

*Unaltered currently does NOT mean forgetting my anti-psychotic, but the periods between my weekly dark chocolate infused legal pot ingestion. I get readily hilarious, as my mind loses it's ability to harness linear thought. Ahhhhhhhh sweet relief.

**SWING! State voters have too much sway and unreliable rhythm.

We're in the Yellow!

At 5am Friday according to this site we are in the yellow! http://lrapa.org/216/Todays-Current-Air-Quality

And on the same site this was the data: http://lrapa.org/219/Data-Summary

Which has us in the GREEN zone. 

I popped out at 3am (back to bad habits) and the air smelled what I remember as fresh and damp. I heard a lot of thunder last night, but fell asleep before the rain started. Then I woke up around midnight and heard the falling of life.

Green = Life

An email from my brother (Jim) today said they had visited their untouched by fire house, but will stay at their coast house (south of Newport) until the curfew is lifted. Their Springfield home is on Tonga Lane, just off Booth Kelly Road.

I am looking forward to feeling more myself now that the outside is no longer toxic.  

Mitigating the effects of warming and drought will require local solutions (where and how we build and better forest management) as well as nationally mandated carbon reduction activities. IF we start NOW (decades behind when it would have been easier, more effective and less costly) we might be able to “pull our cookies out of the fire”. (see definition below – revised above to reflect a more precious baked commodity).

pull (one's) chestnuts out of the fire: To save one from some difficult or precarious situation.

 

Additional note: Sadly, the welcome rain here was a bit too much in the Cascades, resulting in flash flood warnings.

A post from the bottom of the pit of despair

I have been trying to find my voice during this time of national insanity and pandemic primacy. My emotions have been tightly bottled up - which is my standard and unhelpful response to emotions I fear will overwhelm me. Ironically, that is proof that they have succeeded!

I don't have words for the primal scream which is the noise in my head to any engagement with current events. I do however have a picture to share with any readers still out there. It is from a Washington Post article:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/the-gops-convention-of-lies-had-one-thing-right-the-countrys-core-values-are-at-stake/2020/08/27/3e2c4ec6-e88d-11ea-970a-64c73a1c2392_story.html?utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&wpisrc=nl_opinions&utm_campaign=wp_opinions.

For goodness sake, I am not advocating READING this article. I am just making sure you see the not at all subtle framing of the fucking moron's head. There was no mention in the article of this visual abomination. I don't know how widely disseminated it was. All I know is that this was the lowest point to date for my hope and spirit.

As close friends may recall, I recognized and communicated that I viewed the election of FM as an extinction level event. I believe the proof of this is clear to any who will see. Any activity in last year's presidential race which did not specifically work to increase votes for the Democratic candidate were thrown away rather than assisting in the prevention of this catastrophic event.

My position now, as then: Failing to vote for the other major party candidate is the only choice in a desperate situation. To do otherwise it to consent to a continuation of American's destruction. I say this because no third party can capture the Electoral College. Hence, working toward that end is consent to the possibility of continuing America's destruction.

Truly, even before the Democratic Party had settled on a nominee, I knew where my vote belonged: FOR whoever that turned out to be, as the only person in a position to capture a majority in the Electoral College. And I also desperately hope that the Republican's lose the senate majority so there is a pause to the packing of the courts with extreme "conservative" and corporate captured judges.

Now, as it is still cool, I must venture forth to hunt and gather provisions to resupply my cave.
Love to all my readers.

A collection of laugh out loud White House communications

It is coming so fast, that I am going to simply update this post daily with items which made me lose my grim for a few seconds. Of course, in my mind (which is very active and agile) grim and hopeless exist snugged right up to hilarity.

June 30

This afternoon, in a press briefing, McEnany changed course, saying that “The president does read and he also consumes intelligence verbally. This president, I’ll tell you, is the most informed person on Planet Earth when it comes to the threats that we face.”

July 1

“We shouldn’t presume that a group of experts somehow knows what’s best,” Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) said during Fauci's appearance before the Senate health committee.

July 3

Nothing yet this morning but this fun/scary video:
https://www.theweathernetwork.com/ca/videos/gallery/surfeit-of-skunks-sneak-across-a-sunny-street-/sharevideo/6168533964001/most_popular

This gave me a big laugh:
https://www.gocomics.com/nonsequiturhttps://www.gocomics.com/nonsequitur/2020/07/03


July 9

from Richard's Poor Almanac June 1st

I have failed to have a hearty laugh each day for nearly a week now. I am scrubbing this mission. But not without one last try:

From the WaPo  Plum Line Opinion: Stop saying Trump is "in denial". The truth is much worse.

Behold the losing paragraph:

Not clueless and hapless. Malevolent.

Once we dispense with the idea that Trump remains “in denial,” we’re left with a few interpretations. The most charitable is that Trump continues to have principled disagreements with experts over these matters, but there are zero indications he has any substantively grounded views on them of any kind.

For me the funny is in the implication that having a clueless and hapless president is A-OK. 

Just, wow.

This just in!

America is skipping like a lark toward a growing virus threat: This virus is easily transmissible often with few outward signs of infection (although signs of an allergy to face covering is often diagnostic). 

We stand out among countries world wide as the site of Patient Zero for the virulent strain of Stupid-17 now endangering even (or especially) our youngest voters on whom our hopes for the future of the democracy and the climate depend.

We may be doomed.

But Summer! and Commerce! and Self-Reliance! and FREEDOM!!

This introduction to an article in the Washington Post (WaPo) caught my eye:

Trump will richly deserve his fate. But he won’t pay the heaviest cost.

Most people, institutions and nations perform badly under the initial onslaught of a novel threat. The U.S. was no different.

By Megan McArdle ● 

I started reading the article expecting to FINALLY read about Trump's major contribution to America's current crisis of governance. Because it is glaringly obvious that in January 2017 we experienced the initial onslaught of a novel threat. And I agree as asserted that he will not pay the heaviest cost. As indeed, he cannot: his life span will limit his earthly comeuppance. And we can be just as sure that the damage inflicted on our country will plague us for generations.

This suggests my current mood.

But, alas no: the article proved to be another telling of only one Trump disaster: the Covid-19 response. I am ashamed to admit that America’s Covid-19 experience has offered me the comfort of obvious facts for all who will see. Outcomes in a reality based universe are not in the least affected by my point of view. There is neither a Republican nor Democratic method to safely relax virus prevention methods. But there are science and data informed game plans which allow for adjustments to evolving and varying outcomes that offer the best shot at preserving life (and hence our economy). This virus turned out to be "worst case" being both highly contagious and deceptively presenting on a range from "nothing going on with me" to near sudden death. Nature is not playing fair (indeed she is not playing at all). Covid-19 has reminded us that our personal freedom is limited to the contagion bubble we each inhabit. And that compliance to health regulations in a pandemic is not a place to assert your personal freedoms to do entirely as you wish.

Do you believe that when the world next experiences a novel virus that:

It will find the world (including unique! USA) better prepared with stockpiled emergency supplies, well staffed and funded public health infrastructure, and competent governance at all critical junctures? Will we be living in a shared reality, with citizens fully cognizant that there is no INDIVIDUAL pandemic response, but only population based responses?

At this point, I have more faith in finally discovering that unicorns are living among us. I hope your faith is stronger and survives the slings and arrows of outrageous reality.

Fading away

I recently had a further DEXA scan of my bones, as I was diagnosed opsteopenic in 2011. My relevant family history is my mom having osteoporosis which led to two compression fractures in her lower spine. She had birdy little bones (unlike me), but she probably benefited from being rigorous in her dietary control (unlike me). However she was a regular drinker over several more decades than I was, and she was even less inclined to the sporting life than I.

That said, apparently my bones (and ONLY my bones) are beginning to fade away. I recall how annoyed Dad was when he was shown Mom's scans which looked ghostly. For several years he challenged Dr. Butt that she needed to have better scans before he was finally informed that the ghostly appearance of her bones was reality. (On a side note: my parsimonious tendencies were explained when I discovered that Dr. Butt's reluctance to move more quickly, was due to his impression that my parents had serious financial concerns which ruled out self-pay for additional interventions.)

So, I am working to get my actual DEXA scores spanning the last decade to quantify the fading.  My mom paid a large price in her social life, her activity choices, and years of discomfort before a surgical intervention stabilized the spinal compression damage and finally enabled her get out of bed and off major pain medication.

Isn't she a tiny powerhouse!

On the up side: my recently reclaimed avoirdupois makes all my activities even more weight bearing! But sadly, my deep water aerobics did not benefit the health of my skeleton. I KNEW that I would not be allowed to focus on exercise I enjoyed so much. Apparently against all reason, gravity IS my friend. Aaaaarrrrggghhh.

Ruth's Workout https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=aSRTx3jg4RA

Reading as a lifeline

And by this I DO NOT MEAN news.

As I struggle to imagine a non-apocalyptic end to most of life on earth and an imminent end to our democracy , I can be temporarily distracted by  news of our amazing planet. As many have dryly pointed out: we are not now tasked with saving Earth: it will likely survive as a planet no matter what humans manage to do. It is the current, teetering web of life (of which we are a numerical minority, and the dominant threat) that is endangered. Every time I read of folks despairing over the economy instead of climate change and removing environmental protections to help goose an economic recovery, I lose the foothold in the equanimity I gain when I focus on our miraculous galactic life raft.

Today I read the announcement of a successful manned journey to the deepest deep: Challenger in the Marianas Trench. I had not before heard of the deepest spot as my last recollection was the deepest trench, which I took to be the end of the discussion. Oh silly me. Science rarely (if not never) reaches an absolute and entire truth. That is one of it's strengths, and the basis for the two tenets of my personal belief system: Be Kind, Be Humble. I am an abysmal adherent.

Fellow creature realizing he could have read a book instead.

To prove my failure, here is a question that came up on Google under the inquiry: "how deep is the pacific ocean?". There was a box answering related questions, including: "can you swim to the bottom of the ocean?"  I roared with laughter at what I judged to be amazing ignorance. So you see, I do not walk my think very well. And the entire basis of this blog rests on me being unwilling to do so.

So, reading both fiction and non-fiction have afforded my what conscious (excludes sleep, and binge viewing, puzzling and/or snacking) respite I enjoy that counts as more than escapism.

Next, someone will turn the flag upside down over the White House

This tidbit* on events last night as protests against the deadly rigged legal system raged across the country:

"A curfew goes into effect at 11:00 tonight in Washington, D.C. For the past several days, trouble has begun as peaceful protesters go home, leaving the streets to those spoiling for a fight. As 11:00 hits, crowds around the White House are setting fires and attempting to break into the White House grounds. Just before the curfew, the lights that usually illuminate the outside of the White House were turned off."

When upside down is a good thing.

The lights were doused at the symbolic head of our country: finally a definitive acknowledgement of the current status of our democracy. I cannot wait for November, and yet await it with a profound dread. Four years ago the unthinkable occurred: we invited in barbarian rule. Unthinkable (for me), but entirely real for all of us. It was as if I awoke in a foreign country. Even the many accounts of true patriotic actions by concerned and caring Americans across the county have not succeeded in convincing me that we will agree to banish it to history.


* From Heather Cox Richardson's "Letters from an American"

Saving capitalism for future generations

From an article in the WaPo there was a startling admission by a Republican (Rubio) that Covid-19 has disproportionately effected our non-white citizens! Zounds! Why might they be faring so poorly? So poorly in fact that it has led to:

“In essence, that’s people in society feeling like one group has weathered or even done better under this crisis than the others, and there is no movement in politics that's defending the interests of people like them."

Here is his prescription for fixing the plight of those who feel as if they are being left behind:

"To save capitalism for future generations, the potential 2024 presidential candidate is calling for a structural overhaul of the economy, including a national industrial policy that incentivizes the creation of manufacturing jobs and requires more products to be made in the United States."

As Brad Pitt (doing Dr. Antony Fauci on SNL) said, "a couple of things":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uW56CL0pk0g

What will the incentives be to enable manufacturing to return or begin here? Probably tax breaks. That has proven to trickle down with great alacrity to the pockets of the workers (see past 40 years of evidence of improved conditions for the middle and lower classes).

Or will the revived home based industries pay living wages with medical and retirement benefits as was once the case, and the reason why that middle chunk of workers lived financially secure lives? (Did the now quashed unions have anything to do with the improved plight of those workers?)

If companies do the above how will the math work now as opposed to why it stopped working? Again such wages will be higher than in less developed countries. That incentivizes consumers to seek cheaper imports, which leads to reduced market for more costly American made goods which ......... maybe this experiment has already been thoroughly tested.

Perhaps we should examine the current proportion of corporate expenses paid to the managerial staff (be sure to include perks and stock options) added to dividends paid as a proportion of all expenses. Is this different from when the math worked better? Will the proposed incentives fix the math?

And on to the assertion there is no movement in politics that's defending the interests of people like them. While the Democratic party is not a movement per se, it is clear that party's demands of Covid-19 stimulus were focused on saving jobs and lives rather than a no stipulations included hand out to the current dysfunctional corporate hegemony.

I don't feel like I am getting anywhere.

More of the current flavor of capitalism is not a solution to problems created by that flavor. We elect folks working for the group that holds all the cards, because the political/corporate/legal system as currently structured has a built in handicap. An example of this is the effective neutering of the movement defending the interests of people like them (aka unions).

Also, I have to say: a Republican bemoaning the plight of average folks who are not represented politically is rich.

Easy guide to replacing work based insurance

US Flowchart

I  wanted to share with my readers how folks can navigate replacing lost workplace insurance in the USA. I tried several methods to make this flowchart readable, but failed due to either my Luddite linked limitations or a deep state plot.

I was able to get a readable version of approximately 60% of the chart. To allow you to appreciate the ease with which one can reach a solid actionable choice, I will list a few of the yes/no questions which branch to different further questions:

1. Do you want to bet that Congress will fully subsidize COBRA?
2. Have or are you very close to meeting and/or OOP max for the year?
3. Try to guess:what will your yearly income be? 
4. and many more.......

Alternate Insurance Universe

 I was able to replicate a readable version of several flowcharts from an alternate universe countries.

I dream of virus......

First, note that I was able to revise my last post to add the desired photo. Using a computer these days is higher level irrifusion (newly coined word from irritation and confusion). I did nothing different: apparently the planets (or in this case the electrons) were once again properly aligned. <sigh>

Today I got to wondering about the naming of the current virus and the disease it causes. In the process of poking around I found a very clarifying article, referenced here for the similarly curious:https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/technical-guidance/naming-the-coronavirus-disease-(covid-2019)-and-the-virus-that-causes-it

Here my take away impressions (take away because we are not currently allowed to have impressions at a table with service and ambience):

1. ICTV is the organization that names viruses. I had previously been looking for a way to stream this channel using my Roku. I am just not up to these digital times.

2. WHO is a thoughtful, deliberate and strategic organization as evidenced by excluding "SARS" from its public facing communications. As a result all right thinking countries should immediately cut off their allowance and ground them until well into the coming Covid-19 (SARS-CoV-2) resurgence.

OK, I am going to try this without sarcasm

Stay Curious

Let's see if I can do it! I am as curious and skeptical as you are.

Today's quote from A.Word.A.Day:

I learn that ten percent of all the world's species are parasitic insects. It is hard to believe. What if you were an inventor, and you made ten percent of your inventions in such a way that they could only work by harnessing, disfiguring, or totally destroying the other ninety percent?
 -Annie Dillard, author (b. 30 Apr 1945)

Apparently there is such and inventor: Mother Nature aka natural selection working with spontaneous mutations on a really vast time scale.

I think this casts the tree-huggers, earth-firsters, and pagans in a whole new light! Those are some BAD ASS dudes!

Yeah, I failed.

Cocktails even recovering alcoholics can enjoy (in moderation)

Me:  Nov 9th 2016 and every day since

From the Stable Genius yesterday:

“I see the disinfectant that knocks it out in a minute, one minute,” Trump said during Thursday’s coronavirus press briefing. “And is there a way we can do something like that by injection inside, or almost a cleaning? Because you see it gets inside the lungs and it does a tremendous number on the lungs, so it would be interesting to check that.”

It WOULD be interesting. The experiment should be televised and dear leader should volunteer to be test subject zero (no additional snark needed here).

Truly, If America lurches to the polls in November and re-elects mostly Republicans and the yahoo referred to above, I see no hope for us. None. America was an ideal, an experiment, and apparently too demanding, boring and unrewarding for the minimum voters required for an Electoral College Calamity (2016 deja fucking vu).

If it were'nt for dark humor, I'd have no humor at all

My current favorite purveyor of political snark has done the nearly impossible again: made me laugh out loud, alone, and entirely unaltered by any chemicals save caffeine and my anti-psychotic (which is necessary, but not sufficient these days). Here it is in full (as an excuse to insert my new screen and mood saver):

Powerless to help, Donald Trump worries about incompetent pandemic leadership 

Alexandra Petri

April 20, 2020 

Safe at Home

Why was nobody doing anything? That was the question President Trump kept asking himself, over and over, as he gazed at the United States’ response to the covid-19 pandemic.

“The states have to step up their TESTING!” he tweeted. Why was no one helping them? The United States was supposed to be some kind of a great nation, not a floundering compilation of states, each acting at cross purposes. Why were they bidding against one another for medical essentials? They were one country! Did no one realize that? Why were they being left to solve this alone? Could nobody help them coordinate? He looked on, helpless, as the rate of testing ticked up all too slowly.

It was heartbreaking to see. He sat in front of the television, barely watching baseball (“I’m tired of watching baseball games that are 14 years old,” as he told reporters at a briefing. “But I haven’t actually had too much time to watch. I would say maybe I watch one batter then I get back to work.”), wondering why someone was not working harder to fix the numerous problems the nation, as a whole, faced with the pandemic. Shouldn’t someone be developing a plan? It seemed as though the guidance the states had received about whether to do that had been very mixed!

“Get out there and get the job done,” he tweeted to the governor of New York. If only he were in a position to offer more than verbal encouragement! He was happy to tell governors around the country whether they were doing good jobs or bad jobs, but it frustrated him to see them running low on supplies. Still, seeing New York behave as though it belonged to some larger entity that might be able to obtain more supplies at better prices gave him hope. Perhaps New York had a Costco membership?

“Some governors have gone too far,” he told reporters Sunday evening. “Some of the things that happened are maybe not so appropriate.” The governors were trying to lead, but it seemed to him that they were not doing it in the right way. If he were in charge, he would do things differently, but in the meantime, he hoped that people would protest.

He felt so powerless, staring at the TV, seeing all the reports of how badly things were going. If this country were so great, why was its response so desultory? Why were supplies being confiscated en route to states? Where were those supplies even going? If only he were not powerless to help. If only there were something he could do.

Fear not! Three silly things

Long time readers (whom I so appreciate, and yet wonder what they are doing here) will recall that I am something of a peanut butter nutter. The recent erratic scarcity of this national resource has been the source of new recurrent nightmares. Also, a never before personally experienced microwave hazard: a new jar I was warming at a low setting CAUGHT ON FIRE! As soon as a flame appeared I opened the door, removed and blew it out. That was the penalty exacted for having left a tiny scrap of foil from the underside of an aggressively attached paper cover. The photo (with name obscured to protect an excellent brand) demonstrates the inherent danger of sloppy removal of excessive "safety packaging".   - end of silly #1 -

Have I mentioned my love for all things rodent (or rodent like)? If not, I find them engaging, adorable, and best admired not sharing living quarters with me. From the internet's best weather site (you know the one), comes an adorable video of a groundhog.
https://www.theweathernetwork.com/ca/videos/gallery/pizzaloving-groundhog-caught-eating-slice-taunting-dogs/sharevideo/6150005065001/most_popular
- end of silly #2 -

And finally, a squirrel/Covid related story from WaPo caught my fancy. Here is the link if you want to try to access it:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/an-unlikely-bright-spot-in-a-pandemic-a-tiny-picnic-table-for-squirrels-is-a-hit/2020/04/12/1decfd2e-7b44-11ea-9bee-c5bf9d2e3288_story.html
Basically it is an example what Covid caused time at home plus supplies, tool, skills, and rodent love can miraculously bring into being. The article's subject does not claim to have invented this item, but to have adopted the concept and added a personal touch (little cup).
- end of silly #3 -

May the Rodent be With You

Today it is rage overwhelming despair (mostly)

I decided to read an opinion piece by Marc Thiessen, someone  who  has been touted as a "conservative" purveyor of reasonable counter arguments to standard "liberal" bias. I gave him up months ago when he proved to be an apologist for Republicans and the orange idiot.

But the title of this article: "As Taiwan shows, the antidote to the virus is freedom" piqued my interest. I have attached the link here for folks with a way past throttling or pay wall to The Washington Post (WaPo, fondly)

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2020/04/16/totalitarian-china-unleashed-virus-free-china-has-all-defeated-it/?utm_campaign=wp_opinions&utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&wpisrc=nl_opinions

I have few quibbles with what he focused on: the Taiwan response vs China's response.

But I take extreme issue with omitting why the US (ostensibly still free) was denied an effective response (spoiler alert: current national government plus American defaults).

Here are the paragraphs which rang my "Could we really have done this alarm?" 

🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊

"So how did Taiwan succeed where Beijing failed? According to the JAMA study, Taiwan took rapid and specific actions to identify and isolate those who either had the virus or came into contact with those who did.

 

First, Taiwan acted fast. On Dec. 31, while Beijing was still denying the virus was capable of human transmission, Taiwanese officials began boarding planes arriving from Wuhan to identify and isolate passengers with fever or pneumonia before they could deplane. On Jan. 5, they denied entry to any individual who had traveled to Wuhan in the past 14 days and had a fever or respiratory symptoms. On Jan. 30, the government expanded its surveillance system to cover all travelers from China, Hong Kong and Macao. On Feb. 6, all international cruise ships were banned. On Feb. 14, an entry quarantine system was implemented that required all travelers to complete electronic health declarations. Anyone identified as high risk was placed under 14-day home quarantine and monitored electronically through their mobile phones.

 

Second, the government acted with complete transparency. Taiwan’s vice president, who happens to be an epidemiologist, delivered regular press briefings and public service announcements updating people on the mitigation efforts. After the Diamond Princess — the cruise ship that became a hotbed of covid-19 cases — docked near Taipei, the government published a list of 50 locations where passengers who disembarked had visited so those who had contact with them could self-quarantine. The government set up a coronavirus hotline and proactively sought out those with respiratory symptoms. Taiwanese officials also set price limits to prevent the hoarding of masks, and mobilized Taiwan’s military to help increase mask production from 2 million to 15 million a day."
🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊  🙈  🙉  🙊   🙈  🙉  🙊

Illustrative and comforting to my dark humor

 

I know I do not need to elaborate why such actions were not taken at all, taken too late and/or implemented incompetently. In addition perhaps the Taiwanese do not harbor a large population of "my freedoms above all else" population. Also they are not as well armed. 

I will now peruse my photo cache for something related or simply comforting (non intersecting sets in Venn Diagram)