Sunday Stealing
1. What's your favorite movie from your childhood and why?
A. Grease is the first one I think of.
2. What is home to you?
A. The place where I feel safe.
3. Do you get emotionally invested in stories? (I'm asking about movies, books, tv shows, whatever medium you like your stories in.)
A. Yes, if it is a good story.
4. What is the most physical damage you've ever received without needing medical intervention (so no stitches or splints or anything)?
A. When I was very small, I fell and cracked my head open on a cement floor.
5. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
A. A woodchuck would chuck all the wood he could chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood. On a good day, with the wind at his back, he'd really go for it and do about 700 pounds.
6. Do you have any obsessions? Like Tv shows, or cats or something. Not addictions.
A. I think I might be a bit addicted to video games. But not TV or cats.
7. What question or questions would you like God to answer?
A. The Universe will reveal herself to me in good time, but in the meantime, if she would tell me how to be a better person, I would appreciate it.
8. Do you bite your nails?
A. I do, although since the pandemic I have made a major effort to stop. I am constantly cutting them to keep them short so I can resist the urge to put them in my mouth.
9. What do you like about the place you live? (I mean your housing, apt, house, mobile home, etc.)
A. I live in the house that my husband built for us, with his own bare hands. We acted as our own contractor and while I worked during the day, on his days off from the firehouse, he built our house, and I would come home and help if there was some small chore I could manage.
10. What do you like about the city or town where you live?
A. It's not crowded.
11. Is there one place you have visited that you wish you could live there?
A. I wouldn't mind living near Charlottesville. Not in town, but somewhere a little closer. It's about a two-hour drive from here, give or take 15 minutes.
12. What's your favorite cookie to snack on?
A. A Keebler striped graham cookie or a homemade chocolate chip cookie.
13. Are you a Apple person or PC type person and why?
A. I have always used PCs, so I have stuck with them. I have an iPhone, but it has not been enough to convince me to switch to a MAC.
14. What's your favorite things about the zoo?
A. I don't go to zoos. I think they are cruel, although the ones that are keeping species alive may serve a purpose.
15. Did you grow up in the country, city or small town and what did you like about it (or hate about it if you didn’t like it?)
A. I grew up in the country and still live there. The biggest problem when I was growing up was that everything was so far away, but now that is not the case. The city has sprawled in this direction and I can reach a grocery store in a 15-minute drive now, as opposed to a 30-minute one.
16. What kinds of things were you into and do when you were growing up?
A. I was into many of the same things I'm into now - reading, writing, video games. Loved English, wasn't thrilled with math though I made As even in Trig (thank you, Tina). I liked learning and I still do.
17. Do you enjoy receiving letters or postcards more, and why?
A. I haven't received either one in forever. I do get birthday and holiday cards still, but I haven't had a personal letter or postcard in a long time, although I did recently receive a card of encouragement from a friend. Greatly appreciated that.
18. Do or did you know any of your great-grandparents? Tell me about them.
A. My maternal great-grandfather was still alive when I was very young, but I do not remember him.
19. Do you like to be outdoors? What is your favorite thing to do there?
A. I am not an outdoors girl. My favorite thing to do outside is sit and watch the stars.
20. Have you ever broken a bone or been badly injured?
A. I broke my wrist when I was in the 7th grade, and I messed up my left ankle when I was in my early 30s. I stepped in a forgotten post hole. And then a few days later, I drank bad water and had e-coli. That was not a good week.
________________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Saturday, July 18, 2020
Saturday 9: Flipper
Saturday 9: Flipper (1964)
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) Flipper ran for three seasons, from 1964 to 1967. Are you familiar with the show? Were you a fan?
A. I am familiar with the show and probably watched it, but I don't remember much about it.
2) Brothers Sandy and Bud consider a bottle-nosed dolphin, named Flipper, their pet. Do you currently share your home with any animals?
A. Just the bugs and spiders that come in uninvited.
3) Bud and Sandy's dad was Chief Warden Porter Ricks of the fictional Coral Key Marine Preserve. In reality, the show was filmed in Miami and Key Biscayne. When were you last in the ocean? Which ocean was it?
A. I was last in the Atlantic Ocean, last year.
4) There was no one single "Flipper." In close-ups, the role was played by a dolphin named Susie. While Susie was good at interacting with people, she had trouble with stunts, and sometimes a male dolphin named Clown was brought in for action sequences. Do you consider yourself more social, like Susie? Or are you more athletic, like Clown?
A. I think I'm more like a hermit crab.
5) Without looking it up, do you know the difference between a dolphin and a porpoise?
A. It has something to do with the nose.
6) Flipper wasn't just a TV pet. He was an industry! During the show's run, Flipper comic books, coloring books and puzzles were very popular. As an adult, do you entertain yourself by reading comics, coloring, or completing jigsaw puzzles?
A. I do jigsaw puzzles on the computer and I color sometimes, though I haven't in a while.
7) The Flipper lunchbox was also a big seller. It came with a Thermos topped with a red cup. Do you own a Thermos?
A. I think there's one around here someplace.
8) In 1964, when Flipper premiered, it was up against The Outer Limits and The Jackie Gleason Show. If those were your only viewing choices, would you watch the family show about the dolphin, the sci-fi anthology show, or the comedy-variety show? (Or would you rather flip through a magazine?)
A. I'd watch The Outer Limits, though I have never heard of it. I'd rather read if the show turned out to be poor.
9) Random question -- Which would you be more comfortable explaining: how a car engine works, the current IRS tax brackets, or the rules of baseball?
A. I think I'd be more comfortable trying to explain how the cow jumped over the moon than any of those things.
______________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) Flipper ran for three seasons, from 1964 to 1967. Are you familiar with the show? Were you a fan?
A. I am familiar with the show and probably watched it, but I don't remember much about it.
2) Brothers Sandy and Bud consider a bottle-nosed dolphin, named Flipper, their pet. Do you currently share your home with any animals?
A. Just the bugs and spiders that come in uninvited.
3) Bud and Sandy's dad was Chief Warden Porter Ricks of the fictional Coral Key Marine Preserve. In reality, the show was filmed in Miami and Key Biscayne. When were you last in the ocean? Which ocean was it?
A. I was last in the Atlantic Ocean, last year.
4) There was no one single "Flipper." In close-ups, the role was played by a dolphin named Susie. While Susie was good at interacting with people, she had trouble with stunts, and sometimes a male dolphin named Clown was brought in for action sequences. Do you consider yourself more social, like Susie? Or are you more athletic, like Clown?
A. I think I'm more like a hermit crab.
5) Without looking it up, do you know the difference between a dolphin and a porpoise?
A. It has something to do with the nose.
6) Flipper wasn't just a TV pet. He was an industry! During the show's run, Flipper comic books, coloring books and puzzles were very popular. As an adult, do you entertain yourself by reading comics, coloring, or completing jigsaw puzzles?
A. I do jigsaw puzzles on the computer and I color sometimes, though I haven't in a while.
7) The Flipper lunchbox was also a big seller. It came with a Thermos topped with a red cup. Do you own a Thermos?
A. I think there's one around here someplace.
8) In 1964, when Flipper premiered, it was up against The Outer Limits and The Jackie Gleason Show. If those were your only viewing choices, would you watch the family show about the dolphin, the sci-fi anthology show, or the comedy-variety show? (Or would you rather flip through a magazine?)
A. I'd watch The Outer Limits, though I have never heard of it. I'd rather read if the show turned out to be poor.
9) Random question -- Which would you be more comfortable explaining: how a car engine works, the current IRS tax brackets, or the rules of baseball?
A. I think I'd be more comfortable trying to explain how the cow jumped over the moon than any of those things.
______________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Friday, July 17, 2020
Pandemic Journal - Day 119
Things will never be normal again. If people can't see that, they aren't paying attention. Even if #45's miracle happened, and the virus magically vanished overnight, things cannot go back to the way they were.
For me, I have found that being reclusive is better for my overall health. Maybe not so much for my mental health, but I haven't had a cold for months and my allergies have been much better because I'm staying inside or wearing a mask when I am out. I believe I will be wearing a mask when I am out now for the rest of my life (however long or short that may be). It's obvious that I was correct in my notion that I picked up everything that came around when I was in contact with other people. By limiting my exposure to humanity, I am staying healthier, at least as far as my respiratory system goes. I wish a doctor had told me to wear a mask years ago. Think of all of the snot, sneezes, fevers, and bedrest I might have avoided. It's a simple solution. I suppose I should have thought of it myself, but it is outside of societal norms here.
Some things we did before the coronavirus aren't going to make it. Movie theaters, maybe, will be one of the casualties, although perhaps drive-in theaters will make a come-back. Movie theaters were struggling even before the coronavirus. I always thought maybe if they actually made the tickets affordable, more people might go see a flick on the big screen. We only went to matinees because $25 for a ticket was outrageous.
Retail stores, which were already struggling, likely will not make it either. Brooks Brothers and JC Penney's both have filed bankruptcy. Retail therapy is going to be taking place on line, and frankly it is not as satisfying to surf the 'net hunting for something as it to feel the texture of a piece of cloth.
There is something to be said for an appeal to multiple senses when making a shopping purchase. Perhaps we will see a rise in small boutique shops as opposed to larger department stores. I don't know. I'm not an economic prophet.
Print newspapers will continue their decline, probably moving most things online if they survive at all. I like to read a real newspaper, just as I prefer a real book, but I have adjusted to doing both in various settings as warranted. I read The New York Times and The Guardian online, along with whatever free readings I'm allowed from various other news sources. I can only pay for so many.
Civility, I fear, is gone completely, along with any instinct to protect society or the mores and morals of communities. I don't look for manners, politeness, or common sense to make a comeback any time soon.
Maybe the next generation can do better.
On the farm, we've been late with hay, although we're on a second cutting now. It rained most of June and now we're burning up and having a near-drought in July. When you run a farm, you just have to deal with it.
I haven't had my hair cut since June 8. At that time, I had anticipated a return of some routines, like an every-four-week haircut, but the virus numbers locally have been climbing. Botetourt is at 161 cases, which means about 0.4879% of the county's population has been infected. That doesn't sound like a lot out of 33,000 people, but nationwide, 138,290 people have died. That's equivalent to everyone in Botetourt County dying about four times over. Or all of Botetourt and all of Roanoke City, to look at it another way.
So no haircuts for me again. Fortunately it doesn't seem to be growing quickly so I can live with it a while longer. Maybe now that businesses are finally stepping up and doing what the government apparently can't - that is, enforce mask-wearing and physical distancing measurers - perhaps the numbers will decline. I'm not sure I like rule by corporation, but I believe that is what we have in place, anyway. The big companies are that "shadow government" some like to talk about in their conspiracy theories. They simply don't identify them that way.
My husband is happy that he retired from the fire department. He is much less stressed. Since he is only eating at home, where I have a little more control over what is here, he has lost about 15 pounds. At the firehouse they had huge meals and they gobbled their food. We have little meals. I'm the one with the emotional eating issue because I'm still home alone throughout the day and when I grow tired, bored, angry, or otherwise unhappy, I reach for chocolate. I'm trying to do better but failing miserably.
I am also struggling with what I think is a bad heel spur in my left foot. It's been there for months. It was a full-blown case of plantar fasciitis, and I did stretches and icing and the pain in the arch is gone, but there is one spot in my heel that feels like I am stepping on a nail every time I put my foot down. Yesterday I started taping it and changed heel cups again to try to ease it. It makes it difficult to keep up with my exercise.
Going to the doctor is my last option, but if this is not better by August, I guess I will have to go, as taping every day is the only thing left I've not tried.
I am quite disillusioned today. I have been for several days, actually, but I guess mood swings in strange times should be considered normal.
Thursday, July 16, 2020
Thursday Thirteen #665
Thirteen nature photos. Enjoy.
And because we can't forget what's really going on, here's a new song from The Chicks. Listen to it. Think about it. Wake up.
What the hell DID happen in Heliskinki?
And because we can't forget what's really going on, here's a new song from The Chicks. Listen to it. Think about it. Wake up.
What the hell DID happen in Heliskinki?
______________
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 665th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.
Wednesday, July 15, 2020
American Nightmare
Riots.
Dead.
Cities on fire.
Statues toppling.
Lack of government oversight.
Deregulation.
No respect.
Loss of control.
Just another day in the American nightmare.
How long has our society been a total dystopia? Apparently a long time - most of my life, I suspect. I couldn't tell you when it began. Perhaps it started the moment Europeans set foot on the continent, bringing with them smallpox and death to the Native Americans who lived here.
Dystopian literature has long been a favorite genre of mine. These stories are about the ends of societies. People know them by their names in books and movies - Mad Max, The Hunger Games, Brave New World, The Handmaid's Tale, 1984, The Giver, etc. Alas, Babylon, by Pat Frank, was one of the first dystopian novels I fell in love with. The story, about survival on the Florida coast after nuclear demise created by unrest in the Middle East, felt real and possible to me then, way back in 1980 when we were dealing with the hostage crisis at the end of Jimmy Carter's presidency.
Walter Miller's Canticle for Leibowitz, which dealt with aftermath of the collapse of current civilization and went through until it collapsed again, also made quite an impression in my younger years.
And here we are in America, living lives of suffering, watching death and economic collapse occur on what is truly an epic scale.
We are now living in The Hunger Games and Animal Farm, and in most of those imaginary worlds. Don't believe me? I can take you to the coalfields right now and show you District 12 from The Hunger Games. Look at Congress, see the pigs we have for leaders, right up to the chief boar, biggest pig of them all, who has his followers believing with every breath that some are more equal than others. Such a total twisting of truths, the bald-faced lies of "fake news," is so 1984ish it is as if I fell into the book.
We are the only nation in this world - this great big planet - with deaths from the Covid-19 pandemic on a massive scale. With no leadership to speak of, with a government completely undermined and dislodged from reality, did we really think we'd find solace and comfort from the enemies within? We have only ourselves to blame for our stolid independence, our devout fortitude, our utter dismal faith that God will keep us, even as we are too stupid to use the minds He gave us to better our own lot.
Instead, we vote in the fools and let the inmates run the asylum.
American Nightmare.
We're the only nation, too, with multiple school shootings. We're the only nation who willingly eats our young in order to maintain our "freedoms" to hold a rifle, and now, I suppose, our "freedom" to not wear a mask and to spread a deadly disease. We'll allow this virus to run rampant amongst our children, letting it chew on their hearts and lungs, before we step back and see if we can do something different.
Will we have the children social distance while they're doing shooter drills every couple of weeks? How is that going to work out, I wonder.
We are trapped. We are caught with a leadership that is negligent, indifferent, irresponsible, and crazy. A leadership that at one moment incites people to violence (LIBERATE VIRGINIA) and on the other hand offers handouts to the very rich who don't need the money. Give the people $1,200. That will shut them up. Here, big oil, millions for you. You're welcome.
We also have an intellectual class that at some point did not step in and stop this when they should have. I don't know when that was. The 1990s? Earlier? But of course they (I) said nothing. Because how dare we question the status quo, even though it is the most fucked up, evil, and ruthless system on the planet. How dare we!
So we didn't.
Look at us now. For the last 20 years, since 9/11, we have become despicable people. We have more poor, more ill, more desperate people than any other country. We also have more rich. This disparity between rich and poor was created and made worse by a ruthless class of assholes who want theirs at the expense of everyone else. As if Capitalism is a pie, and they want 7/8 of it, giving the rest over to the worthless idiots who can't figure out that the system is set against them from the moment they are born.
Pull yourself up by your bootstraps my ass. American dream. It's a fucking dream alright. It's a goddamn nightmare, is what it is.
Now we have this great divide. Us against them. Who are them? Anyone who isn't us. Skin color, hair color, jobs, political points of view. Religious fealty. But mostly we're a bunch of scared, nervous people who are suffering from terrible feelings of powerlessness, rage, hopelessness, and pessimism. Because honestly, how is this going to get any better?
These internal feelings for white people, especially white men, are, I suspect, relatively new. America has always been a dystopia for black people, for the Native Americans we so casually displaced, for most women - for anybody who stood out and was different and dared to try to actually live that fucking American dream. A few even "made it," if making it is defined by monetary success. Which in America is, after all, how we define everything. Every single damn thing in this country is defined by a dollar bill.
And because dollar bills are what matters, people do not. We do not care about one another. We don't care about anyone who isn't "us," whoever the hell that is.
This is our society today. It goes like this:
We're the richest country in the world and about 13 million children live in food insecure homes. Over 4 million children do not have health insurance or adequate healthcare. Over 17% of our children live without basic necessities. About 5.5 million reports of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse are made annually.
And what is our response? We cut funding for school lunch programs. Right now, this very moment, the current administration is fighting to do away with the Affordable Healthcare Act, taking it before the Supreme Court in another effort to dismantle it completely. We assume that if kids have poor parents, well, tough luck. Apparently the parents don't deserve decent wages, for whatever reason. If kids are being abused, well, that's a shame, but parents have the right do raise their kids as they see fit.
What can you do with such apathy? How do you fight this total lack of empathy and human feeling?
We could do a lot of things. We could ensure people have enough money to feed their children with a decent minimum wage. We could have regulations for clean air. We could have health care for all. We could ensure better mental health services, more counseling, better education . . . we could spend the money we spend on the fucking military on our own people instead of on more fighter jets that we don't need.
What we need to stop doing is putting little Band-Aids on big, major problems that require resolve and courage to solve. We need to step up and say, "Fuck this shit. This is enough."
Capitalism exploits us. It is a screwed up economic system that requires people to be poor so someone else can be rich. It has been going on for so long, people don't even realize that the corporations and the wealthy are exploiting them. We're nothing but a power source, a labor source, and if we're all used up, then we are totally and completely expendable.
So sure, die from a virus. If your immune system can't take it, no sweat off of their backs. There are billions of people. They might even have to take in some brown folks to fill space after the white folks all die off, but the corporations don't care. They just want the money anyway.
We have been totally dehumanized, us stupid Americans. We've divided ourselves into human and non-human. We are incapable of doing things other countries - better countries, really - have managed to do and do well. Things like healthcare, retirement, vacations, education, income. Feeling safe in your home, your grocery store, your surroundings. Basic human rights. We don't even know what a basic human right is, except for "pursuit of happiness." And what does that mean, after all, if you haven't any means to reach it?
When I was growing up, I expected to find a job, stay in it, have a good income and a retirement plan. That is all gone. Out the window, blowing in the wind, a pipe dream. My grandfather and father lived it, but he and others like him made damn sure his children didn't and wouldn't. And my niece and nephews haven't even a clue that it existed once, this small taste of security and belonging.
The only people who can walk around safely now live in gated communities with armed guards, like those folks in Margaret Atwood's Oryx & Crake, where they are safe and can be who they want to be. They don't have to worry that there are fewer and fewer jobs out there. They don't care, probably don't even know, that people are making do with less and less. (Though one day it will reach them, too. For all their money, they are not immune. Even the rich must die.)
The rest of us, we have to do for ourselves. And this goes back how far? As far as I can trace it. Racism and bigotry lies at the heart of this dystopia, because it kept us, as U.S. citizens, from becoming truly a single nation, keeping us instead as a country of "them" versus "us." Always. We never built systems to protect and help people, never put things into place to ensure the kind of social safety net that is a basic human right, because we were so busy being concerned that someone else might get "ours" when "they" shouldn't have it, that we have vaulted to the bottom of the first world nations.
We're not even a first world nation now. We're like a fifth world nation or something. Even third world nations don't have the problems we do. They don't have the failing infrastructure, the mass shootings, the total unhappiness that surrounds me every single time I go into the grocery store, when the waves of anger and frustration simply come at me as if I am in an ocean of angst.
I am drowning in that ocean, and so are you. And you. We are all drowning and fooling ourselves that the water we are allowing into our lungs is actually good for us, when in the end, it so polluted with hatred that it will destroy this country and take our children with it.
We have the greatest military. Whoopee. We did not invest in the things that mattered. We did not invest in our future as people. We have become fragile. The coronavirus has shown us for what we are - weak, secluded, scared saplings, ghosts of the people we could have been, had our world been just a little bit different, our minds just a little more open, our lives just a little less filled with hate.
When we are only commodities - and that is all we are, in the end, in a capitalistic society - how could we have expected to ultimately end up with a functioning society? We can't. Because we're too busy now living the worlds created in our dystopian literature, where we each have to protect what little we have because, well, because it's all we have.
We don't even know how to reach out to one another as human beings in an effort to make it better. We watch the protests on TV and see them turn into riots and gasp. Those others! We don't think, don't empathize, don't care.
God, what a sickening society we are. We are the zombies we have been afraid of all of this time. We don't need to look for them on TV.
They are all around us, each of us, dragging our feet, watching our lives waste away, searching for meaning in faux religions and cultish leadership, wanting to eat one another out of fear and loathing.
And now we have reached a pinnacle where fascism is here, its ugly nastiness a jackboot around the corner. We are a vote away from it. Regardless of who wins, it is here, and it isn't going to go away. We will kill one another in the end, if the virus doesn't get us all first.
We have never been a country that understands friendship. We adore ignorance. We don't want to know. We don't want to understand, improve, care, imagine a better world - damnit, we simply don't want to change. We're not friends, none of us. We're just strangers living in the same land, looking askance at one another, wondering not, "How can I help?" but "What do they want?"
Is it any surprise to anybody that now we're watching cities burn? We've got a lunatic with his finger on the nuclear codes.
And us? We are all simply bewildered and horrified.
Dead.
Cities on fire.
Statues toppling.
Lack of government oversight.
Deregulation.
No respect.
Loss of control.
Just another day in the American nightmare.
How long has our society been a total dystopia? Apparently a long time - most of my life, I suspect. I couldn't tell you when it began. Perhaps it started the moment Europeans set foot on the continent, bringing with them smallpox and death to the Native Americans who lived here.
Dystopian literature has long been a favorite genre of mine. These stories are about the ends of societies. People know them by their names in books and movies - Mad Max, The Hunger Games, Brave New World, The Handmaid's Tale, 1984, The Giver, etc. Alas, Babylon, by Pat Frank, was one of the first dystopian novels I fell in love with. The story, about survival on the Florida coast after nuclear demise created by unrest in the Middle East, felt real and possible to me then, way back in 1980 when we were dealing with the hostage crisis at the end of Jimmy Carter's presidency.
Walter Miller's Canticle for Leibowitz, which dealt with aftermath of the collapse of current civilization and went through until it collapsed again, also made quite an impression in my younger years.
And here we are in America, living lives of suffering, watching death and economic collapse occur on what is truly an epic scale.
We are now living in The Hunger Games and Animal Farm, and in most of those imaginary worlds. Don't believe me? I can take you to the coalfields right now and show you District 12 from The Hunger Games. Look at Congress, see the pigs we have for leaders, right up to the chief boar, biggest pig of them all, who has his followers believing with every breath that some are more equal than others. Such a total twisting of truths, the bald-faced lies of "fake news," is so 1984ish it is as if I fell into the book.
We are the only nation in this world - this great big planet - with deaths from the Covid-19 pandemic on a massive scale. With no leadership to speak of, with a government completely undermined and dislodged from reality, did we really think we'd find solace and comfort from the enemies within? We have only ourselves to blame for our stolid independence, our devout fortitude, our utter dismal faith that God will keep us, even as we are too stupid to use the minds He gave us to better our own lot.
Instead, we vote in the fools and let the inmates run the asylum.
American Nightmare.
We're the only nation, too, with multiple school shootings. We're the only nation who willingly eats our young in order to maintain our "freedoms" to hold a rifle, and now, I suppose, our "freedom" to not wear a mask and to spread a deadly disease. We'll allow this virus to run rampant amongst our children, letting it chew on their hearts and lungs, before we step back and see if we can do something different.
Will we have the children social distance while they're doing shooter drills every couple of weeks? How is that going to work out, I wonder.
We are trapped. We are caught with a leadership that is negligent, indifferent, irresponsible, and crazy. A leadership that at one moment incites people to violence (LIBERATE VIRGINIA) and on the other hand offers handouts to the very rich who don't need the money. Give the people $1,200. That will shut them up. Here, big oil, millions for you. You're welcome.
We also have an intellectual class that at some point did not step in and stop this when they should have. I don't know when that was. The 1990s? Earlier? But of course they (I) said nothing. Because how dare we question the status quo, even though it is the most fucked up, evil, and ruthless system on the planet. How dare we!
So we didn't.
Look at us now. For the last 20 years, since 9/11, we have become despicable people. We have more poor, more ill, more desperate people than any other country. We also have more rich. This disparity between rich and poor was created and made worse by a ruthless class of assholes who want theirs at the expense of everyone else. As if Capitalism is a pie, and they want 7/8 of it, giving the rest over to the worthless idiots who can't figure out that the system is set against them from the moment they are born.
Pull yourself up by your bootstraps my ass. American dream. It's a fucking dream alright. It's a goddamn nightmare, is what it is.
Now we have this great divide. Us against them. Who are them? Anyone who isn't us. Skin color, hair color, jobs, political points of view. Religious fealty. But mostly we're a bunch of scared, nervous people who are suffering from terrible feelings of powerlessness, rage, hopelessness, and pessimism. Because honestly, how is this going to get any better?
These internal feelings for white people, especially white men, are, I suspect, relatively new. America has always been a dystopia for black people, for the Native Americans we so casually displaced, for most women - for anybody who stood out and was different and dared to try to actually live that fucking American dream. A few even "made it," if making it is defined by monetary success. Which in America is, after all, how we define everything. Every single damn thing in this country is defined by a dollar bill.
And because dollar bills are what matters, people do not. We do not care about one another. We don't care about anyone who isn't "us," whoever the hell that is.
This is our society today. It goes like this:
We're the richest country in the world and about 13 million children live in food insecure homes. Over 4 million children do not have health insurance or adequate healthcare. Over 17% of our children live without basic necessities. About 5.5 million reports of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse are made annually.
And what is our response? We cut funding for school lunch programs. Right now, this very moment, the current administration is fighting to do away with the Affordable Healthcare Act, taking it before the Supreme Court in another effort to dismantle it completely. We assume that if kids have poor parents, well, tough luck. Apparently the parents don't deserve decent wages, for whatever reason. If kids are being abused, well, that's a shame, but parents have the right do raise their kids as they see fit.
What can you do with such apathy? How do you fight this total lack of empathy and human feeling?
We could do a lot of things. We could ensure people have enough money to feed their children with a decent minimum wage. We could have regulations for clean air. We could have health care for all. We could ensure better mental health services, more counseling, better education . . . we could spend the money we spend on the fucking military on our own people instead of on more fighter jets that we don't need.
What we need to stop doing is putting little Band-Aids on big, major problems that require resolve and courage to solve. We need to step up and say, "Fuck this shit. This is enough."
Capitalism exploits us. It is a screwed up economic system that requires people to be poor so someone else can be rich. It has been going on for so long, people don't even realize that the corporations and the wealthy are exploiting them. We're nothing but a power source, a labor source, and if we're all used up, then we are totally and completely expendable.
So sure, die from a virus. If your immune system can't take it, no sweat off of their backs. There are billions of people. They might even have to take in some brown folks to fill space after the white folks all die off, but the corporations don't care. They just want the money anyway.
We have been totally dehumanized, us stupid Americans. We've divided ourselves into human and non-human. We are incapable of doing things other countries - better countries, really - have managed to do and do well. Things like healthcare, retirement, vacations, education, income. Feeling safe in your home, your grocery store, your surroundings. Basic human rights. We don't even know what a basic human right is, except for "pursuit of happiness." And what does that mean, after all, if you haven't any means to reach it?
When I was growing up, I expected to find a job, stay in it, have a good income and a retirement plan. That is all gone. Out the window, blowing in the wind, a pipe dream. My grandfather and father lived it, but he and others like him made damn sure his children didn't and wouldn't. And my niece and nephews haven't even a clue that it existed once, this small taste of security and belonging.
The only people who can walk around safely now live in gated communities with armed guards, like those folks in Margaret Atwood's Oryx & Crake, where they are safe and can be who they want to be. They don't have to worry that there are fewer and fewer jobs out there. They don't care, probably don't even know, that people are making do with less and less. (Though one day it will reach them, too. For all their money, they are not immune. Even the rich must die.)
The rest of us, we have to do for ourselves. And this goes back how far? As far as I can trace it. Racism and bigotry lies at the heart of this dystopia, because it kept us, as U.S. citizens, from becoming truly a single nation, keeping us instead as a country of "them" versus "us." Always. We never built systems to protect and help people, never put things into place to ensure the kind of social safety net that is a basic human right, because we were so busy being concerned that someone else might get "ours" when "they" shouldn't have it, that we have vaulted to the bottom of the first world nations.
We're not even a first world nation now. We're like a fifth world nation or something. Even third world nations don't have the problems we do. They don't have the failing infrastructure, the mass shootings, the total unhappiness that surrounds me every single time I go into the grocery store, when the waves of anger and frustration simply come at me as if I am in an ocean of angst.
I am drowning in that ocean, and so are you. And you. We are all drowning and fooling ourselves that the water we are allowing into our lungs is actually good for us, when in the end, it so polluted with hatred that it will destroy this country and take our children with it.
We have the greatest military. Whoopee. We did not invest in the things that mattered. We did not invest in our future as people. We have become fragile. The coronavirus has shown us for what we are - weak, secluded, scared saplings, ghosts of the people we could have been, had our world been just a little bit different, our minds just a little more open, our lives just a little less filled with hate.
When we are only commodities - and that is all we are, in the end, in a capitalistic society - how could we have expected to ultimately end up with a functioning society? We can't. Because we're too busy now living the worlds created in our dystopian literature, where we each have to protect what little we have because, well, because it's all we have.
We don't even know how to reach out to one another as human beings in an effort to make it better. We watch the protests on TV and see them turn into riots and gasp. Those others! We don't think, don't empathize, don't care.
God, what a sickening society we are. We are the zombies we have been afraid of all of this time. We don't need to look for them on TV.
They are all around us, each of us, dragging our feet, watching our lives waste away, searching for meaning in faux religions and cultish leadership, wanting to eat one another out of fear and loathing.
And now we have reached a pinnacle where fascism is here, its ugly nastiness a jackboot around the corner. We are a vote away from it. Regardless of who wins, it is here, and it isn't going to go away. We will kill one another in the end, if the virus doesn't get us all first.
We have never been a country that understands friendship. We adore ignorance. We don't want to know. We don't want to understand, improve, care, imagine a better world - damnit, we simply don't want to change. We're not friends, none of us. We're just strangers living in the same land, looking askance at one another, wondering not, "How can I help?" but "What do they want?"
Is it any surprise to anybody that now we're watching cities burn? We've got a lunatic with his finger on the nuclear codes.
And us? We are all simply bewildered and horrified.
Tuesday, July 14, 2020
Suprise!
I call this song, Away. I wrote it about 30 years ago (music and words). I have never played it for anyone other than my husband.
At the time, we were struggling with infertility issues, and I reached the conclusion that I would never have children long before the doctors or even my husband did. I wrote this song around then. I had many things to be concerned about - not having a child when I wanted one, how my husband would react when he finally realized he would never be a father. This is what came out of that myriad of emotions.
Here are the words:
Away
By Anita Firebaugh
There's a photo of you on my wall that I don't recall hanging.
But it doesn't mean nothing at all. It's just my heart filled with longing.
Chorus:
Since you went away, I've spent hours staring into the flames.
People call me, I have nothing to say, except that I'm okay.
And they go away.
I sit around and I wait on your calls. But that phone's never ringing.
So here I am feeling lonely and small while my heart keeps on breaking.
Chorus
In the morning's light, I sit staring at the edge of the night.
Wishing you were here to hold me tight, what wasn't right?
Why did you go away?
I see your face in the back of my mind and my soul starts to quiver.
People say I'll forget you in time, but my heart's crying, "Never!"
Chorus
Won't you come back and stay?
At the time, we were struggling with infertility issues, and I reached the conclusion that I would never have children long before the doctors or even my husband did. I wrote this song around then. I had many things to be concerned about - not having a child when I wanted one, how my husband would react when he finally realized he would never be a father. This is what came out of that myriad of emotions.
Here are the words:
Away
By Anita Firebaugh
There's a photo of you on my wall that I don't recall hanging.
But it doesn't mean nothing at all. It's just my heart filled with longing.
Chorus:
Since you went away, I've spent hours staring into the flames.
People call me, I have nothing to say, except that I'm okay.
And they go away.
I sit around and I wait on your calls. But that phone's never ringing.
So here I am feeling lonely and small while my heart keeps on breaking.
Chorus
In the morning's light, I sit staring at the edge of the night.
Wishing you were here to hold me tight, what wasn't right?
Why did you go away?
I see your face in the back of my mind and my soul starts to quiver.
People say I'll forget you in time, but my heart's crying, "Never!"
Chorus
Won't you come back and stay?
Monday, July 13, 2020
In the Quiet of the Night
I rose around 4:30 a.m. Saturday morning, slipped on my fluffy robe and leather slippers, and softly stepped away from the bed.
My husband snored gently. I left him there.
I wanted to see if I could find the comet.
Without turning on a single light, I found my camera on its tripod in the kitchen and my binoculars beside them, for I had left them where I could easily locate them both before we went to bed. I carried them outside with me, one item in each hand. I set the tripod down and opened the back door.
We'd had a thunderstorm with hail, wind, and rain at dusk. Now the sky was clear. The stars were brilliant, and I could make out the faint crack of dawn across the mountain tops. The half moon hung to my right.
The night sky smelled clean and fresh.
I searched the horizon for the comet. I saw clouds and mist.
We'd seen the comet around 5:15 on Thursday, but it had been so indistinct I hadn't bothered with photos.
I thought Friday that perhaps we needed to be up earlier, but it was overcast. On Saturday, I hadn't really planned to wake up, I set no alarm, but my inner curious interloper had awakened me at the time I'd thought appropriate.
The breeze was cool but not cold, and the air was the sweetest it had been in days - I'd not been able to breathe outside well ever since that Sahara dust storm had crossed the Atlantic and found its way across the United States. The rain had cleared the air, and the stars seemed endless.
With my camera on its tripod, I swung it around for a photo of the moon.
Studying our big satellite through my camera lens, I thought how very intriguing it was that its other half was so dark, so indistinct, and so un-seeable. I knew it was there, I've taken enough shots of the full moon to fill albums, but here, at its half-way mark, it looked eerily magical.
My heart rate slowed as I stood there, occasionally pulling the binoculars to my eyes to scan the horizon, searching for the comet, hoping the mist might rise, wondering if I was too early to see it, or too late, even.
A bird chirped. Early riser, I thought, shifting so that the gravel of the driveway poked a different part of my foot through my thin moccasins. I heard a rustle in the leaves, then caught a whiff of skunk, somewhere to my north. Not close, I thought. Just out there, being a skunk, doing its skunk thing.
I watched the bright stars, trying to sort out which was the one I needed to locate the comet, trying to remember the maps I'd looked up earlier in the day. I checked the tree line where we'd seen the comet Thursday, moving the binoculars up, down, and side to side, trying to find the comet.
Mostly though, I stood there and took it all in - this great vast darkness spotted with bright tiny lights, this old world, working hard to shrug us off the planet, finally have had enough of us, and how in the end, we are all simply small and doing our best even when it looks like its the worst thing ever. I wondered if even the really bad people have a conscience, or are they a different species altogether, maybe, some oddly formed chain of DNA that looks like the rest of us but isn't quite, you know, all there, but mainly seeing and feeling the silence, even with the birdsong.
I stood there with my camera and binoculars, still not finding the comet, for 45 minutes. I was alone but not, what with the sniff of skunk on the wind every once in a while and the bird occasionally whistling a brief tune.
Finally I turned and went back inside. I gave up on the comet. Instead, I found a bit of peace that had eluded me for quite a long time.
My husband snored gently. I left him there.
I wanted to see if I could find the comet.
Without turning on a single light, I found my camera on its tripod in the kitchen and my binoculars beside them, for I had left them where I could easily locate them both before we went to bed. I carried them outside with me, one item in each hand. I set the tripod down and opened the back door.
We'd had a thunderstorm with hail, wind, and rain at dusk. Now the sky was clear. The stars were brilliant, and I could make out the faint crack of dawn across the mountain tops. The half moon hung to my right.
The night sky smelled clean and fresh.
I searched the horizon for the comet. I saw clouds and mist.
 |
| Somewhere in there is a comet. |
We'd seen the comet around 5:15 on Thursday, but it had been so indistinct I hadn't bothered with photos.
I thought Friday that perhaps we needed to be up earlier, but it was overcast. On Saturday, I hadn't really planned to wake up, I set no alarm, but my inner curious interloper had awakened me at the time I'd thought appropriate.
The breeze was cool but not cold, and the air was the sweetest it had been in days - I'd not been able to breathe outside well ever since that Sahara dust storm had crossed the Atlantic and found its way across the United States. The rain had cleared the air, and the stars seemed endless.
With my camera on its tripod, I swung it around for a photo of the moon.
Studying our big satellite through my camera lens, I thought how very intriguing it was that its other half was so dark, so indistinct, and so un-seeable. I knew it was there, I've taken enough shots of the full moon to fill albums, but here, at its half-way mark, it looked eerily magical.
My heart rate slowed as I stood there, occasionally pulling the binoculars to my eyes to scan the horizon, searching for the comet, hoping the mist might rise, wondering if I was too early to see it, or too late, even.
A bird chirped. Early riser, I thought, shifting so that the gravel of the driveway poked a different part of my foot through my thin moccasins. I heard a rustle in the leaves, then caught a whiff of skunk, somewhere to my north. Not close, I thought. Just out there, being a skunk, doing its skunk thing.
I watched the bright stars, trying to sort out which was the one I needed to locate the comet, trying to remember the maps I'd looked up earlier in the day. I checked the tree line where we'd seen the comet Thursday, moving the binoculars up, down, and side to side, trying to find the comet.
Mostly though, I stood there and took it all in - this great vast darkness spotted with bright tiny lights, this old world, working hard to shrug us off the planet, finally have had enough of us, and how in the end, we are all simply small and doing our best even when it looks like its the worst thing ever. I wondered if even the really bad people have a conscience, or are they a different species altogether, maybe, some oddly formed chain of DNA that looks like the rest of us but isn't quite, you know, all there, but mainly seeing and feeling the silence, even with the birdsong.
I stood there with my camera and binoculars, still not finding the comet, for 45 minutes. I was alone but not, what with the sniff of skunk on the wind every once in a while and the bird occasionally whistling a brief tune.
Finally I turned and went back inside. I gave up on the comet. Instead, I found a bit of peace that had eluded me for quite a long time.
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Sunday Stealing: Movies
Sunday Stealing
1. Last movie you watched: Green Book
2. Last movie you watched in a theater: Wonder Woman
3. Film you’ve always wanted to watch, but haven’t: Crazy Rich Asians
4. Favorite movie soundtrack: Forrest Gump
5. Your favorite movie duo: Aragorn and Legolas from The Lord of the Rings. (What, you thought I'd say Batman and Robin?)
6. Movie you like because of its story: Under the Tuscan Sun
7. A film that disappointed you: The Hobbit. It was nowhere near as good as The Lord of the Rings.
8. Favorite scene from a movie: The ending of The Lord of the Rings, Return of the King, when Aragorn, now king of Gondor, tells the Hobbits, "My friends, you bow to no one," and he bows down to them, as does the rest of the people there. I always cry at that scene, even though I've seen it at least 20 times.
9. Your guilty pleasure movie: Dirty Dancing.
10. A movie you keep going back to: Steel Magnolias.
11. A quote you admire from your favorite movie: "It is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of love and kindness." - Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings.
12. A movie based on a true story: Green Book.
13. Your favorite actor/actress: I don't really have one.
14. A sequel you’re not a fan of: I thought the last Shrek movie was poorly done.
15. A film you know by heart: The Lord of the Rings (all 12+ hours of it).
16. Your favorite opening scene: I can't think of one.
17. A film that was based on a book and was executed well: The Lord of the Rings.
18. A comedy film: Monty Python and The Holy Grail.
19. TV series you’re binging on now: Stargirl.
20. A TV series you think is underrated: Supergirl. Up until this last season, when it became a bit convoluted, it has had very good writing.
________________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
1. Last movie you watched: Green Book
2. Last movie you watched in a theater: Wonder Woman
3. Film you’ve always wanted to watch, but haven’t: Crazy Rich Asians
4. Favorite movie soundtrack: Forrest Gump
5. Your favorite movie duo: Aragorn and Legolas from The Lord of the Rings. (What, you thought I'd say Batman and Robin?)
6. Movie you like because of its story: Under the Tuscan Sun
7. A film that disappointed you: The Hobbit. It was nowhere near as good as The Lord of the Rings.
8. Favorite scene from a movie: The ending of The Lord of the Rings, Return of the King, when Aragorn, now king of Gondor, tells the Hobbits, "My friends, you bow to no one," and he bows down to them, as does the rest of the people there. I always cry at that scene, even though I've seen it at least 20 times.
9. Your guilty pleasure movie: Dirty Dancing.
10. A movie you keep going back to: Steel Magnolias.
11. A quote you admire from your favorite movie: "It is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of love and kindness." - Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings.
12. A movie based on a true story: Green Book.
13. Your favorite actor/actress: I don't really have one.
14. A sequel you’re not a fan of: I thought the last Shrek movie was poorly done.
15. A film you know by heart: The Lord of the Rings (all 12+ hours of it).
16. Your favorite opening scene: I can't think of one.
17. A film that was based on a book and was executed well: The Lord of the Rings.
18. A comedy film: Monty Python and The Holy Grail.
19. TV series you’re binging on now: Stargirl.
20. A TV series you think is underrated: Supergirl. Up until this last season, when it became a bit convoluted, it has had very good writing.
________________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Saturday, July 11, 2020
Saturday 9: Sunset Strip
Saturday 9: 77 Sunset Strip (1958)
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) 77 Sunset Strip was one of TV's early hits, running for six seasons. Before this morning, were you familiar with this show?
A. I had never heard of it before. It's a little before my time, and I'm not a big TV watcher anyway.
2) The show's jazzy theme is punctuated by finger snaps. When you snap your fingers, is the left-handed snap as loud as your right-handed snap?
A. Actually, the left-snap is louder than my right, which is odd because I am right handed. Maybe it is from playing the guitar, which requires left-hand strength to note the frets.
3) The show revolved around Bailey and Spencer Investigations. Stu Bailey and Jeff Spencer were among TV first "private eyes." Who is your all-time favorite TV PI?
A. Sabrina Duncan, played by Kate Jackson, on Charlie's Angels.
4) Their office had "a fancy label," meaning an attractive address, on Los Angeles' Sunset Blvd. Tell us about the prestige area of your neighborhood.
A. That would be the area known as Ashley Plantation. This was once a big farm. In the late 1990s, the land was sold and developers built 40-50 McMansions (like 10-15 rooms) around an 18-hole golf course. The houses cost $500,000 and up. During the Great Recession, I went through and counted over 20 for sale signs. We could see that was going to be an issue - there were rumors of people living in these huge houses with no furniture - long before the recession came. Folks came down from the northern states and found they could buy these big poorly built houses for what it cost to live in a small house up there. But we don't really have the job infrastructure to support that lifestyle. The people who do live there - I have no idea what they do for a living or how they earn enough money to make a house payment. Most people who have been here before Ashley believe that they're using inheritance money to make the purchases, but obviously that's conjecture. It is the premiere subdivision in the county, though.
5) Next door was Dino's Lodge, the real-life restaurant and bar owned by entertainer Dean Martin. Are you a Dean Martin fan?
A. I barely know who he is.
6) The valet at Dino's was Kookie. He was known for his perfect hair, his slang ("ginchy" meant cool, "germsville" was the hospital, "a dark seven" was a bad week) and his desire to someday be a private investigator, like Stu and Jeff. Do you think you'd be a good detective?
A. Probably. I was a good news reporter, and I don't think that investigative journalism is that far away from detective work.
7) Stu and Jeff had a loyal secretary named Suzanne, played by French actress Jacqueline Beer. In real life, she was married to adventurer Thor Heyerdahl, who famously traveled from Peru to French Polynesia by raft. Does 100 days on a raft, sailing the south seas, sound fascinating to you?
A. Not in the least.
8) Clint Eastwood was fan of the show and, in the 1990s, tried unsuccessfully to bring 77 Sunset Strip back. Is there a show from the past you'd like to see "rebooted?"
A. I thought they were going to reboot Cagney & Lacey, and I was interested in seeing that, but apparently it didn't happen. And wouldn't it be fun to see an updated version of The Brady Bunch? Just think of the topics - meth, COVID, drug addiction, video games - endless fun. (That was sarcasm in case you didn't catch it.)
9) Random question: Thinking about the last week, did you nag anyone? Or were you the one who was nagged?
A. Oh, I'm always the nagger. My poor husband had a bad case of gout last weekend and he caught hell over his diet and not taking his medication. Nag, nag, nag.
______________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) 77 Sunset Strip was one of TV's early hits, running for six seasons. Before this morning, were you familiar with this show?
A. I had never heard of it before. It's a little before my time, and I'm not a big TV watcher anyway.
2) The show's jazzy theme is punctuated by finger snaps. When you snap your fingers, is the left-handed snap as loud as your right-handed snap?
A. Actually, the left-snap is louder than my right, which is odd because I am right handed. Maybe it is from playing the guitar, which requires left-hand strength to note the frets.
3) The show revolved around Bailey and Spencer Investigations. Stu Bailey and Jeff Spencer were among TV first "private eyes." Who is your all-time favorite TV PI?
A. Sabrina Duncan, played by Kate Jackson, on Charlie's Angels.
4) Their office had "a fancy label," meaning an attractive address, on Los Angeles' Sunset Blvd. Tell us about the prestige area of your neighborhood.
A. That would be the area known as Ashley Plantation. This was once a big farm. In the late 1990s, the land was sold and developers built 40-50 McMansions (like 10-15 rooms) around an 18-hole golf course. The houses cost $500,000 and up. During the Great Recession, I went through and counted over 20 for sale signs. We could see that was going to be an issue - there were rumors of people living in these huge houses with no furniture - long before the recession came. Folks came down from the northern states and found they could buy these big poorly built houses for what it cost to live in a small house up there. But we don't really have the job infrastructure to support that lifestyle. The people who do live there - I have no idea what they do for a living or how they earn enough money to make a house payment. Most people who have been here before Ashley believe that they're using inheritance money to make the purchases, but obviously that's conjecture. It is the premiere subdivision in the county, though.
5) Next door was Dino's Lodge, the real-life restaurant and bar owned by entertainer Dean Martin. Are you a Dean Martin fan?
A. I barely know who he is.
6) The valet at Dino's was Kookie. He was known for his perfect hair, his slang ("ginchy" meant cool, "germsville" was the hospital, "a dark seven" was a bad week) and his desire to someday be a private investigator, like Stu and Jeff. Do you think you'd be a good detective?
A. Probably. I was a good news reporter, and I don't think that investigative journalism is that far away from detective work.
7) Stu and Jeff had a loyal secretary named Suzanne, played by French actress Jacqueline Beer. In real life, she was married to adventurer Thor Heyerdahl, who famously traveled from Peru to French Polynesia by raft. Does 100 days on a raft, sailing the south seas, sound fascinating to you?
A. Not in the least.
8) Clint Eastwood was fan of the show and, in the 1990s, tried unsuccessfully to bring 77 Sunset Strip back. Is there a show from the past you'd like to see "rebooted?"
A. I thought they were going to reboot Cagney & Lacey, and I was interested in seeing that, but apparently it didn't happen. And wouldn't it be fun to see an updated version of The Brady Bunch? Just think of the topics - meth, COVID, drug addiction, video games - endless fun. (That was sarcasm in case you didn't catch it.)
9) Random question: Thinking about the last week, did you nag anyone? Or were you the one who was nagged?
A. Oh, I'm always the nagger. My poor husband had a bad case of gout last weekend and he caught hell over his diet and not taking his medication. Nag, nag, nag.
______________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Thursday, July 09, 2020
Thursday Thirteen
Today, I'm simply going down my Facebook feed and respond to posts that are there, except I'm doing it here. I generally do not react to things on Facebook as it is problematic and I don't like to argue. But sometimes I need to get this stuff off my chest.
1. First up, a headline that religious organizations received $7.3 billion in the loans/funding money the federal legislature handed out back when the pandemic struck. My take? They don't pay taxes, they shouldn't be receiving tax-money hand outs. I have always thought churches should be taxed, and my stance on that has not changed.
2. Next, a story from one of my local stations that says the Secretary of Education "slams" school districts that plan limited openings, rejecting part-time openings of school districts. My district is one of those that has, at least for the moment, planned a limited opening. My take? I think each district should decide how it wants to handle things depending on the circumstances and the numbers of viral load, etc., which means the planning may have to change mid-semester if the viral overload quickly shoots up. I see this as a public health crisis, not a minor inconvenience that is causing someone to cry over an election. I prefer live children to dead ones, and with the cases here locally skewing downward in age, with those 11-20 suddenly being the ones who have coronavirus, it makes sense to try to keep physical distance efforts at a maximum, not a minimum.
3. A friend has posted a tweet from #45. He indicates South Dakota has a border with California and misuses the word "there." (It should be "their border.") My take? Well, the man is no stable genius. If you have to say you are one, you probably aren't. (Do they not have spelling and grammar check on Twitter? I don't use it so I don't know.) He also congratulates people for not wearing masks. Is he trying to kill us all? *Update: I have since learned this tweet was false and #45 did not actually tweet this.*
4. A quote from a friend about moving forward in small steps. Good advice. Sometimes that is what it takes to get through a day. Take it second by second if you have to. Sometimes I do. Actually, most days I do.
5. Another quote from a friend: "Many years ago, Golda Meir, the former Israeli Prime Minister, once quoted the following: "One cannot and must not try to erase the past merely because it does not fit the future". No truer words were ever spoken! God Bless America!" My take? I presume this is about the removal of Confederate statues and changing the names of buildings to remove Confederate legacy. I say it's about time. The south lost and should have gotten over it about 155 years ago. Removing names does not remove history. We have history books, museums, and family stories galore to keep the "legacy" alive if someone must. Also, why can't God bless the whole world?
6. A fellow blogger and Facebook friends writes: "On alleged bounties, White House targets leakers, not Russia - Two weeks after Americans learned about Russia allegedly putting bounties on the heads of American troops, the White House is taking action. Team #45, however, isn't targeting Russia; it's targeting leakers . . . confronted with allegations that Moscow put bounties on the heads of American troops, the White House is eager, not to punish Russia, but to punish U.S. officials who helped expose the controversy. nbc" - My take? Sounds like something this administration would do. Talk about gaslighting and deflecting. Sheesh.
7. A friend posted "Lowes donated $25 million to help minority businesses reopen. Home Depot donated $7 million to Trump. Go to Lowes." Hmm. My take? I looked it up. Lowes did make that donation. However, the Home Depot donation was years ago, and while Home Depot gives more to Republicans than Democrats, it makes contributions to both parties. I still generally go to Lowes, though. I like it better. So this is slightly misleading.
8. A post about the bubonic plague returning. My take? It's never left. There have always been cases of it hither and yon. I've read about it recurring for years. This year is no different. It just feels like it because of all the other shit that's happening around us.
9. A post from a friend who says she isn't risking her life to go anywhere - except to vote if she must, and she'll wear a hazmat suit if she has to. My take? Good for her. We should all be able to vote by mail if we want to. We receive our driver's licenses and other government-issued items by mail, I don't see why we can't vote by mail. I trust my voter registrar and those who work for them - I know them personally. Distrust in others seems inbred in some people, though. Those folks would call Jesus Christ a liar if he stood right in front of them, brown skin and all. The military votes by mail. If they can do it, I don't see why the rest of us can't.
10. A headline post that says "The White House is hoping Americans will "grow numb" to the Covid-19 Death Toll." My take? I am keeping score. I will not grow numb to the numbers. I am watching the numbers rise in my little county and I am pretty sure that until they start dropping again, I will not have a haircut, go to the dentist, or leave home without a mask. I think the government officials are guilty of mass murder, frankly, for their total bungling of this. And yes, that includes #45, his adult family members (since they are all "working" for the people at his command or whatever, I have never seen so much nepotism in all of my life), and the vice president.
11. A post about how all the flights in a certain airline are haunted. My take? This is hilarious and probably the best thing I've read so far today.
12. A story from the New York Times about the Supreme Court allowing employers to "opt out" of paying for birth control. My take: I wonder if they can "opt out" of paying for Viagra? I personally see it as part of women's health care and it should be available and paid for with health insurance. After all, no woman asked to be born a woman and it's not our fault we're the ones who carry the babies. Yet men sure love to penalize us for that. Dickheads.
13. A story about a comet that's visible on the low horizon in the early morning hours. My take? Yay comets!
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Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 664th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.
Wednesday, July 08, 2020
Taking Care of Myself
For those who read regularly and may wish to know, my mammogram went fine. I have an abnormality but they are simply watching it. Apparently, it's been there since at least 2014, so I am not worried about it.
Mammograms are an annual endurance test for women, though I admit I had started doing mine every 1.5 years or so. I think it's a lot of radiation to be spewing at your chest on a yearly basis. Still, I think a woman should have one at least every two years.
So go take care of yourselves, ladies. I know it's hard and a little scary right now, but the hospital was diligent about taking temperatures and keeping folks separated.
Mammograms are an annual endurance test for women, though I admit I had started doing mine every 1.5 years or so. I think it's a lot of radiation to be spewing at your chest on a yearly basis. Still, I think a woman should have one at least every two years.
So go take care of yourselves, ladies. I know it's hard and a little scary right now, but the hospital was diligent about taking temperatures and keeping folks separated.
Tuesday, July 07, 2020
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