Cribbing from a much funnier writer

Dave Barry has submitted his annual review and roast of the year Barry's 2021 now coming to an exhausted close. I know I am exhausted mentally, emotionally, and clearly imaginatively. Hence my suggestion to get some inspiration from a much funnier source. I have embedded two excerpts because I have vowed that "no post of mine will be misconstrued as pithy".

2020 Olympic Games 

In Tokyo, the pandemic-delayed 2020 Olympic Games (motto: “Later, Smaller, Sadder”) finally get underway with the majestic Nasal Swab of Nations. This is followed by the ceremonial lighting of the Olympic Torch, which for safety reasons is a small vanilla-scented bath candle that is immediately extinguished to prevent it from attracting crowds. Let the Games begin!

Milk crate challenge  (which I previously was innocent of, eschewing social media)

Dave's excerpt From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (shortened a bit by me)

The milk crate challenge is a video challenge that became viral online in August 2021. The challenge involves stacking milk crates into a structure that resembles a podium, with both sides of the structure functioning as stairs.

Due to the instability of the stacked crates, participants often fall while ascending or descending the podium, risking serious injury. Falling during the challenge has led to a variety of injuries, including dislocated shoulders and rotator cuff tears, ACL tears, meniscus tears, broken wrists and even spinal cord injuries. 

Not on topic, but silly.

Back to your favorite blogger now.

As ever, I had no plans to attend the Olympic Games in any year and during any or no pandemic. Also, now that I am aware of another Darwin Awards qualifying effort (which can lead to injuries I can easily sustain while tending to my bird bath) I am going to skip that too. Exhaustion and a desire to drink a second cup of coffee while observing the result of a much hyped snowmageddon for the Willamette Valley, (currently approximately at the depth of scant) but still coming! Cabin fever here I come!

 

 

Do I see light at the end of the tunnel?

At a recently concluded conference of seriously concerned and concerning Republicans (in and out of office and their minds) gathered to hear from the most enlightened of their ilk... Lauren Boebert pranced while bloviating (taking Trump's podium skills to a new level) and pronounced:

I am tired of having Godless people who hate America run this country! You and I are going to take this country back!

So am I!  And so should we!

But perhaps she did not mean godless in the way I define it: Being a practicing follower of a belief in the value of others irrespective of faith, nationality, gun inventory, and support of Unbounded Capitalism.

Also, I think she may hold the opposite view of what demonstrates real love of America: Believing in the founding principals of our republic, while acknowledge we are still working toward that ideal while employing the Constitution and Bill of Rights as the means to this goal.

Clownfish risk "virginal"pregnancy.

So I must conclude that either our sides live in different realities (like matter and anti-matter, which cannot successfully be allowed in the same "corner" of the universe). See note below.

OR we now use a language in which antonyms and synonyms carry the same meaning. This seems like a hermaphroditic quality. Consider one of nature's practicing hermaphrodites: the Clownfish. Do we wish to give birth to all our young (or in this case, all our ideas) without any contribution from others of our species? Where is the fun in that? 

Note: as a "journalist" I occasionally do a slap dash check of a fact deployed in my irreverent take on the larger world (everything outside my head). I employed a simplified idea of matter/antimatter. As it turns out not merely simplified but entirely wrong. Here is the one place I checked Matter - Antimatter, and decided, WTF, I have as much credibility as nearly everything readily available online. So, I persist.

My conclusion: we ARE living with matter and antimatter now. That explains quite a bit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

biological progress for humans? Hmmmmm

Also, note that we see this creature as clownish. Is that really where we want to go with our god created bodies?

 

 

Aging is a process of loss and aggravation

I likely do not need to state an obvious side effect of piling on the years. I have just "celebrated" putting 70 of them, one after another (with neither gaps, nor transpositions) into a pile - which is me.

And I am mostly quite OK with being ever older (who isn't except the dead?) But being OK is an individual thing. I don't long for prior periods of my life, although I admit sometimes I did not make anywhere near the best of them. And knowing that, I still routinely fall short. At a birthday celebration in my deep water aerobics class we were admonished to: Enjoy the health you have today! A gutsy admonition for a group of mostly women mostly older than me. But then the obvious occurred to me: this is likely the healthiest many of us can (or will) be. Yikes!

But enough on the aging process. Let's talk aggravation. A common symptom of menopause (irritability) which I thought I had dodged was in fact doing push ups with a clap and box jumps of 36 inches during the intervening decades. I mention these two exercises because:

A) Very fit folks can do these physical power moves and 

B) I either cannot, or suck at doing such physical moves, but 

C) I EXCEL at difficult and extreme negative mental activity. So those mid life years with few evident emotional eruptions, were actually when vast pools of molten emotions were working their way to the surface.  And here they are.

Favorite empty purse on left

Today's example: my most favorite ever purse  has a damaged strap which renders it much less useful. It's unparalleled qualities include:

1. Very light weight at 9 oz. Hence I only lug around stuff I want; not so much lugging the container.

2. Nylon fabric which is machine washable and dry-able. Obviously useful.

3. A handy open pocket in the back for easy access to my pocket calendar, shopping list on the back of a used envelope, and several expendable pens

4. All other interior areas are lined in light blue, while the exterior is a yummy brown. I prefer a dark colored purse, but for GOD"S sake use something light colored for the interior. OR, and this is now common for purses which are black holes have a very tiny hard-to-activate light bulb. Activation takes one hand and fails to illuminate much.

5. The 4 pockets from back to front are large, medium, small and smaller. The three sub pockets are arrayed from deepest to shallowest on the front. As a compulsive organizer I can go right to the desired pocket for what I know will be there. Hence, reduced pawing, swearing and ultimately dumping it all out to find something.

New fully loaded purse on right

6. And best of all, it is a tidy 9 in. tall, 7 in. wide and 3 in. wide at the bottom. This means that when loaded it can sit upright. 

And because of all these desirable features, including an original price of  $33 in 2012, it is no longer available. Because fashion! status! one for each outfit! boredom with things! and other consumer tendencies which are at the heart of our unsupportable lifestyle.

In summary, I am much much more than irritable. I am incandescent with outrage at needing a new but not improved purse.  So there!

 

Season's greetings (and a few video suggestions) from the dark side

First I must acknowledge a seasonal mindset adjustment. One of my readers informed me that last weekend was a "holiday weekend". As a many-years-now retiree with a tenuous grasp on the date (always what day, often the month, and only occasionally which decade) I was confused about WHAT holiday. As it turns out our society treats every December weekend as the annual SHOPPING Holiday. Not quite a recognized religion, but perhaps the most actively attended one nationally. No official holiday designation is required because as Americans we begin observing and participating from a very young age. As you can readily discern, this is not my chosen "acquisition faith system": I am a minimalist tree hugger*.

In spite of this well-known quirk (within my small friendship circle) I am occasionally sent a holiday related card which I receive with joy.  However, when it comes from outside this circle (real examples: Guarantee RV, other frequented vendors, and charities I support - which should better use my contribution) I get annoyed. But being lazy I exact only the penalty of trashing it, which is sadly exacted against mother earth and hence only indirectly against the resource squander-er.

This is my first seasonal card of this year which minimalist-ikly covered Xmas, New Year, and my December B-Day. And perhaps unknowingly finely attuned to one of my reading and viewing preferences: someone gets murdered** therein. This is where my VERY sublimated murderous rage is allowed to play. I used to be easily triggered by fearful scenes on TV and in books. But my hide has toughed (likely not 100% to be desired) and now I cannot manage only the very difficult depictions (eg: torture, and ever since a memorable scene in "The Lone Ranger" - quicksand). An example of the bullet-proof-ness of my hide: I laughed at "The Exorcisit".

Sent by one of my inner circle I was encouraged to view the bordering portion as if from a crime scene! It's very special when I am well known and STILL liked! Dexter was my (so far) favorite serial killer closely followed by the main character of the Amazon series: "You".

Enjoy the Holidays as YOU see fit!

 

*By this I do not mean I wish to only hug an appropriate number of trees; I embrace both minimalism and all of Mother Earth, except not so much the hot, buggy, muggy places.

**I am very opened minded about this, as I can also enjoy an absurdly unlikely accidental death when tastefully depicted (especially the one in "Six Feet Under" when an LA area jogger's run was ended by a mountain lion!)