Distractions and Imaginings

It’s Sunday and this means that I get to watch teevee for a couple hours this afternoon. I am psyched!!!

Jen, Oni, and I have recently discovered the show Ride or Die. It’s an action/adventure/comedy about best friends Debbie (Octavia Spencer!!!) and Judith (Hannah Waddingham). Debbie’s the ultra competent, mega smart, and supportive wife to a dull British MP. Judith is a slick as anything international assassin (the assassin bit is unbeknownst to Debbie at the outset). They’re in a book club together. 

This show is absolute FIRE!

We’re now on the second season of Stranger Things and, after watching the first episode, it’s looking like Winona Ryder’s kid is going to be sucked back into the alternate scary, horror dimension. I REALLY hope that’s not where the show goes. They already did that (and the whole rescue bit) in the first season. Gimme something else. Please?

And we’re watching Star Trek: Strange New Worlds – the series with Captain Christopher Pike which is set a decade before James T. Kirk takes the helm of the Enterprise. I love seeing Pike vibrantly alive versus how I first saw him – horribly deformed and crippled – in the original series. So far, besides the original series and The Next Generation, this one might be my favorite Trek. Maybe. I suppose it depends on the day.

I enjoyed Discovery a great deal in the beginning but somewhere along the line (fourth season?) Michael Burnham, the main character’s way of expressing herself seemed to be reduced to cocking her head to the side, taking on quizzical expressions, and uttering dialogue more appropriate to a condescending grade school teacher. Weird. I went from abso-loving this previously complex player to finding her annoying and unwatchable.
~~~
Alan Elrod, president & CEO of the Pulaski Institution, writing at Liberal Currents felt that Pedo was giving off serious Jim Jones vibes last Thursday at his poorly attended Dallas rally (*oops*, Republican midterm convention).

… far from a display of power and forward-looking ideas, Trump’s speech came off more like a sermon from Jonestown. And observers noticed. My own overriding thought was:“This speech was like some sort of performance art piece of a live entombing of a mad king and his most loyal followers.” (source)

By building his ostentatious, tacky ballroom and absolutely obscene arch (on top of all his other garish, gold paint covered, suburban shopping mall style “improvements”) Pedo’s basically attempting to leave a mark on the U.S. – desperately trying to ensure that he’s remembered forever as The Great Man that he never was. It’s part and parcel of why he’s always putting his name on everything – from all the commercial buildings he doesn’t own but bear his name to his ongoing attempts to force himself on the Kennedy Center. 

Elrod brings up the concept of retainer sacrifice. No, I’m not talking about those custom-made plastic devices that teens wear over their teeth after their braces come off. No, no, I’m talking about the ancient Egyptian practice where pharaohs would have servants (AKA retainers) killed after the the pharaoh's deaths so they could continue serving them in the afterlife.

Who would Pedo have offed so they’d keep serving him in Hell?

Natalie Harp (obviously – girl would, no hesitation, no questions asked, gleefully jump at the chance), Walt Nauta, Gym Jordan, Ted Cruz, Stephen Nosferatu Miller, and his fellow Epstein Islander, MusKKK to name a few. They can all be buried inside that stupid arch (if it ever gets built and I hope to hell it isn’t) or under the stupid ballroom. 

You know, it’d be perfect if JDouche got buried with Pedo too but I imagine, even from the mausoleum, Trump would find a way to keep that perennially annoying, emotionally dysregulated, socially twisted pariah out. Hells bells, I would.

Bits and Pieces

Here's something that would bring me absurd amounts of joy: 

Legal scholars say Trump’s ICE deportation policies can be used by a Democratic president to arrest Elon Musk on the street by masked agents in an unmarked van, hold him in a concentration camp for weeks, confiscate all his money, and deport him to Sudan.
~ Halfway Cafe 

John Fetterman is the first rat in history to jump on to a sinking ship.
~ Covie on Threads

The man — elected as a Democratic senator — spoke at a Trump rally (masquerading as a Republican “midterm convention” – HAH!) which actual Republicans made every damn effort to avoid because they don’t want to be associated with Toxic Trump.

Democrats need to win enough so that we have 52 seats in the Senate. John Fetterman must be made irrelevant for the rest of his term. 

Yesterday was the anniversary of when Charlie Kirk was shot. Huh. I thought that was necks week.

I see people saying they miss him. But, one dude definitely didn't miss him. 

I hope the White House remembered to leave out fireworks, sparklers, skintight leather pants, and the VP for poor, “grieving” widow Kirk last night. 

Be sure to have a flat white with a single shot in Chuckles’ memory, k?

Two things that never get old:

1.   Jokes about Charlie Kirk
2.   Charlie Kirk

I understand Drowsy Donnie's promised to send each of the rubes 5Gs if Republicans keep control of the House and Senate after the midterm elections. Yep, he's blatantly bribing voters which is, ya know, pretty much totally illegal. Like that matters in this administration with this Supreme Court and "Justice Department." But also ...

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha*gasp*hahahahahahhahahahhahahaha*gasp*hahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha*gasp*hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha!!! 

Pedo promised us all $2,000 tariff dividend checks last November. Ya know, almost 10 months ago. Mine hasn’t arrived yet. Has yours?

How ‘bout those DOGE dividend checks? Trump and his bestie Elon promised us checks in the neighborhood of five grand EACH. What did you do with yours? What? You haven’t seen it yet? Yeah, me neither.

Him and his crew of grifting-ass, larcenous liars pledged we’d be saving on groceries, gas, rent, heating, water, clothing, and other miscellaneous bills too. That seven thou should be spare change just kickin’ around to invest, spend on a holidays, pay unexpected bills, help out a friend or whatever.

Is the faithful MAGA cult motivated by this new empty, stale promise of you-know-it’s-never-gonna-show-up five grand check? Do they believe him enough to get out of their La-Z-Boys and go vote against their own interests (HELLO farmers!) again? They haven’t gotten the first seven thousand — do they honestly think, after they’ve paid for shit-geysering groceries and $5/gallon gas, that a big check from King of Lies Donnie is gonna magically appear? Do they believe Pedo will miraculously transform ‘Murica into some fantastical whites only 1950s Father Knows Best/Leave It To Beaver heaven (but with porn, hookers, and strip clubs — they’ll be neatly tucked out of sight)? He’s had six years and it’s not looking so promising, huh?

“shit, in fact, has been fucked up and stuff for a good long while now — and the problem with shit being fucked up and stuff for this long is that eventually, you forget that shit isn’t supposed to be this fucked up.”
~ Jeff Tiedrich 

Yes, precisely!

Whoppers and Cosplay

Pedo’s latest whopper I (9/11 Edition) – big strong firefighters (undoubtedly with tears in their eyes) lifted him up, running with him in their powerful arms to safety.

"We thought it was coming down on top of us, and two firemen, big strong guys — I'm not the smallest guy in the world — they grabbed me under the arm, said, 'Got to get out of here,' and they literally lifted me up. This is not easy to do," he said. "I'm big. They lifted me up and they started running with me. I said, 'Fellas, I can run myself,' but they were amazing. But they thought it was coming down. It didn't come down.” 

… There are supporting accounts that a fear of the building collapsing prompted evacuations, though none specifically say Trump was there. (source) 

Did this happen? Did he, as he claims, send 100+ of his workers down to help the rescuers at Ground Zero? We only have the word of a pathological liar, a complete self aggrandizing fabulist, so I’d say it’s safe to assume the answer is a resounding NO.

Trump did go down to Ground Zero but it was two days later, not "right after" as he said. Why? He was glad handing – making sure he was seen. That's it. 

Question – did those big strong firemen have tears in their eyes? They usually do in his big-strong-men fantasies. 

I only mention it but Trump really seems to have a thing for the body builder/strapping workmen/Jack Kirby styled superhero physique. This seems to totally get his motor running. Has he ever gone a single monologue without throwing in a big-strong-man fairy tale? 

Now then, it’s absolutely clear that Pedo despises women and girls — feels we’re lesser beings, not necessarily human, more like pets or maybe just ornaments and status symbols. Beyond that we’re only useful as pleasure giving devices, like strokers or sleeves. Also, rape, remember, is a violent act – it’s not about sex. It’s a deep, controlling, tortuous assault. It’s about conquest, dominance, power, humiliation, punishment. It’s an act of hate. Prez Pedo is an adjudicated rapist with a multitude of other victims/survivors in his wake. He does NOT like us!

My opinion? Pedo is, at the extreme least, bisexual (leaning heavily toward gay) or would be in a different world.

Let’s imagine … in another life, another timeline, where being bi or gay is just a way of being — it was never, ever criminalized, marginalized, or othered and his parents were sane, warm, reasonable, supportive, and loving humans. I know, it’s a wicked HUGE stretch but bear with me and my wild imagination.

Without the pressure to enter the business world and use a brain he clearly doesn't possess, little Donnie grows up to become quite the licentious little queen and a very popular party boy.

He fucks and gets fucked by anything that moves or stays still for five minutes. Because he can bang (and be banged by) all the big strong men (tears in eyes optional?) that he wants AND he never has to feel like a complete failure at business stuff, he does NOT become a deeply unstable, insecure, malignant narcissist, with horrifically tacky taste.

Little Donnie is also so busy being a promiscuous party boy at Flamingo, Crisco Disco, The Mine Shaft, and, of course, Studio 54, he never develops an interest in politics and never becomes president. He doesn't spawn a family of dimwitted, clownish criminals either.

God, I just love a happy ending!

There’s a New Map in Town

Mercator projection

Growing up, going through school, the maps we saw in our Social Studies classes were all Mercator projection maps. The problem with the Mercator map, which was created for ship navigation, is that it makes northern regions appear disproportionately large, while Africa and other places closer to the equator appear smaller than they really are. They may work a treat for sailors but they give the rest of us a pretty skewed view of our planet.

Togo's Foreign Minister Robert Dussey said maps are far more than simple representations of geography.

"Maps shape our understanding of the world. They guide education, nourish the imagination, and influence collective perceptions," (source) 

So, there’s a relatively new map out and it’s absolutely fascinating. It’s the Equal Earth projection map. It’s an equal-area, pseudocylindrical world map that shows continents and oceans at their true sizes relative to each other.

At Al Jazeera there’s a quiz:

Can you guess the real size of each country on the new world map?

Pick which country is bigger, then watch it morph from Mercator to Equal Earth projection to see how close you were.

I played and, surprisingly, got eight out of ten right. Maybe most stunning to me was the Greenland/Algeria question. Which is bigger? I mean – c’mon – on all the maps we’ve been looking at since we were tiny tots, Greenland is HUGE, right? It looks to be about the same size as the entire continent of Africa and Algeria’s just one country on the continent. OF COURSE Greenland’s bigger, right?

Wrong!

Algeria measures 2,381,741 square kilometers in size. Greenland is 2,166,086 square kilometers.

The United Nations feels it’s wise for schoolchildren and people in general, to have a reality based picture of the planet. As much as I’d love to live in a fantasy world of my own invention, I’m down with the U.N. going with actuality.

To address this, the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) voted 164 to 1 on Friday to adopt a resolution promoting the Equal Earth projection, which shows continents in their true proportions, as an alternative to Mercator.
~~~

Gerardus Mercator, Flemish geographer, cosmographer
 and cartographer. Creator of the 1569 world map.

The United States was the only country to vote against the resolution calling the measure a “radical ideological project”. (source) 

Emmmm, given that our ambassador to the U.N. is Mike Waltz, the completely moronic Trump toady who included a reporter in an insufficiently secured group chat discussing war plans, I’m unsurprised that we were the single no vote. So, the U.S. is the only anti-reality nation. Yeah, that’s a real shocker, huh? 🙄

I only mention it but the U.N.’s resolution is not legally binding and doesn’t mean anyone’s got to give up their precious, inaccurate Mercator projections. The U.N. is just gently encouraging the use of a more accurate map.

Are you a teacher or a map nerd? Go to the Equal Earth website and download the file(s) (it’s FREE and shit!). You can then go to your local print shop and have them print it out. Yes, this will cost bucks but still, it’s cool, huh?

The Equal Earth Wall Map is for schools, organizations, or anyone who needs a map showing countries and continents at their true sizes relative to each other. Africa appears 14 times larger than Greenland as it actually is. And wherever you live, the map has you covered. Download a choice of three versions centered on these regions: Africa/Europe, the Americas, and East Asia/Australia.

Other features include:

•  It’s free. Download the map and print as many copies as you want.
•  It’s big. The map measures 55” wide x 29” tall (1.4 x 0.74 meters). You can print it even larger thanks to the very high resolution.
•  Just enough detail.  The 2,600+ map labels provide geographic context without overwhelming you with too much information.
•  Professional design. With pleasing colors, readable type, and clear visual hierarchies, this is a map that you will want to look at. (source) 

Just FYI – the cost to print a 55” wide x 29” tall (1.4 x 0.74 meters) color map could run in the neighborhood of $60 - $75. Double that price if you want it laminated (which would be a smart plan if this is going up in a classroom).

An Assortment

What if they threw a war and nobody came?

No really. How about everyone just sat the fuck down and said NO, I’m not going. 

It’s a damn shame logic isn’t as infectious as COVID, chicken pox or measles.

Recent footage shared on social media has shown individuals dressed in plainclothes trying to force fighting-age men into vehicles to take them to the recruitment centre, while weeping women try to intervene – echoing similar scenes in Ukraine. 
~~~
The Washington, DC-based Center for Strategic and International Studies puts the number of deaths among Russian forces since the invasion of Ukraine in early 2022 at nearly 450,000. (source) 

Meanwhile, here in the U.S., military recruitment had been on an upswing after years of decline and then Pedo and his astoundingly stupid Secretary of Warcrimes took the wheel. I googled “is enlistment in the armed forces down since the Iran war started?” All the usual military related sites were headlined, All Branches Meeting Targets, Reversal of Slump, Early Goal Completion, and yada, yada, yada.  

Can you say "amateur hour propaganda" kids? Of course you can! It's totally unsurprising that they're spewing happy horseshit. What else can be expected from the Lies, Grifts, and Cons Administration?

NPR had a story from back in April. 

"It's been very, very busy," he says. Galvin is the counseling director at the Center on Conscience and War, which helps run the 24-hour GI Rights Hotline, set up to inform service members of their options for military discharge.
~~~
Military members are citing myriad reasons for wanting to leave, but the U.S.-Israeli war against Iran has been a powerful motivator. (source)

I doubt things have improved since April. 
🏴‍☠️ 🏴‍☠️ 🏴‍☠️ 🏴‍☠️
Jen and Oni are on a wee holiday up in Maine. She’s  sent a few pics. Me? I’ve been sending harassing texts, begging for more pics or, failing that, other assorted entertainments Shockingly, she doesn’t always answer. I suppose I can’t fault her on that. I can be rather annoying. See below.

• Any more pictures? Huh? How ‘bout now, hmmmmm?

• Or a grizzly bear? I’ll take a black bear if you’ve got one. Do they have those in Maine?

• Maybe a squad of Martians in cerulean tutus instead?

• A portrait of 6 dead republicans wearing moldy ferret carcasses on their heads?

• A video of Ron Jeremy and John Holmes doing a duet of I Got You Babe while juggling a trio of beglttered blowup dolls?

• A line of dancing robot skunks wearing lettered hot pink top hats. When they stop twirling (and these skunks stop on a dime — the Rockettes got nothin’ on them) their hats spell out “FUCK TRUMP.” Then, in unison, they lift their tails and fart sparkle dust.

• What about this – karaoke night on a D5 Klingon cruiser. Worf is on board, a little tipsy and climbing up on stage. Will he do it? Does he dare? YES he does. Worf belts out Dancing Queen and the crowd goes wild! You, of course, were able to catch that on your phone video thingie … right?

• I KNOW! You and Oni have befriended a crack team of killer whales. They’re teaching you the ways of their pod but FIRST, martinis and nachos — a pod’s gotta eat ya know. After snacks you’re all off on your mission to take down the next billionaire boat. GO TEAM!

• You’re having ultra secret, closed door (wait … that’s probably redundant or something) meetings with Susan Collins. You’re informing her that trying to distance herself only now from JDouche and Prez Pedo is too little too late and no one buys this act anyway. You told her she’s old, rich, and doesn’t have a lot of life left so she should just follow her lifelong dream and become lead singer in an all nude Starland Vocal Band cover band. Tour the country. GO FOR IT BABE!
👁️ 👁️ 👁️
Found on Threads last night:

The year is 2030. I pull my spear from the sparking wreck of the Flock Droid. 
We shall have water tonight. 
My wife is harvesting Twinkie’s from the ruins. 
A blueberry killed my father. 

It’s 98 degrees in December. 
The wind smells like batteries.

From a golden megaphone, Trump's voice shouts that climate change is a hoax and thermometers are now illegal.
The aliens came in 2029.
They looked at us, looked at the mess, then left.  

They just fucking left. 
~ Ryan Stygar

Transitions and Trash

We’re in the last weeks of summer. Vacations will be ending soon. School starts back up on September 8th. The sun comes up noticeably later. As a morning person, this always registers as a disturbance in the force. Yeah, I know nothing’s actually wrong but the lessening of the light doesn’t thrill me.

The autumn equinox isn’t until Tuesday, September 22 but I’ve always felt like summer was over when school buses rolled out again.

I may’ve mentioned that Jen, Oni, and I have begun watching Stranger Things during our weekend “tea” times. NOT a warm, sci-fi comedy-drama, like Resident Alien but still a fine distraction from our current reality. It’s a creepy, suspense filled, sci-fi thriller, with evil government labs, alternate dimensions, and middle school kids playing D&D.

The setting is a bleak small Indiana town in the 1980s (that’s the vibe anyway – maybe it’s later but it seems pre-cellphone, pre-internet). The weather seems to be permanently overcast. 

This sounds like it would be a depressing drag, doesn’t it?  It's not.

There’s Joyce Byers’ (Winona Ryder) home though. Joyce is the distraught mother of the missing 12-year-old, Will. She’s a single mother who’s a clerk at the local general store. While she’s definitely not a top earner, this is rural Indiana so it’s, comparatively speaking, inexpensive. 

The house she and her two sons live in is the epitome of white trashdom. I mean, it’s not just a ramshackle mess, it’s grubby and grimy down to a molecular level. Dingy doesn’t even begin to describe it. It looks like it’s made out of cardboard and has never, ever been tidied let alone cleaned. Also, there is just SO much junk laying about. Fer Christ’s sake, a house fire would be a mercy. 

So far, this is the only part of the show that’s bugging me. Ya see, Joyce doesn’t come off as white trash. She’s certainly frantic and disturbed about all that’s happening (as one would be, what with a missing child, monsters and shit) but she seems to be intelligent and sane. She appears to be logically, scientifically working through the clues she’s given.

So, why is she living in this toxic waste dump? Paradox anyone?

Related – I’ve read that the term white trash is considered by some to be a terribly derogatory and offensive slam against all low-income white people. 

When poor (or formerly poor) white folks do get portrayed in the media and pop culture, they're often reduced to a series of offensive stereotypes: that they're angry, lazy, dirty, overweight, sunburned, stupid, racist, alcoholic, abusive, jobless, tacky, diseased, violent, backwards, Bible-thumping and uneducated. (source) 

This is NOT Joyce. WHY are they living in this beyond bleak house that looks like it’s given up its will to live?

When I use the term white trash, I’m referring to people of any income or education level who fail to behave in a rational, sane, kind manner. Fer instance, Prez Pedo and his entire administration are white trash. Pedo’s MAGAt cult (AKA the new Klan), are all white trash. Elon MusKKK is MOST def white trash. Bozo the multi-billionaire, same. 

Also, there are the folks who spend the rent and grocery money on Trump merch and wear shirts that proudly proclaim they welcome the president’s sexual assaults.

I only mention it but J6 was Woodstock for white trash.

There’s Rachel Powell, business owner, mother of eight, and rioter who was convicted of three felonies and six misdemeanors. She def counts as white trash. David Dempsey, who had been sentenced to 20 years for stomping on police officers' heads, amongst other things during the riot, and then pardoned by Pedo. He's white trash. Andrew Taake assaulted Capital cops with pepper spray and a metal whip. He was sentenced to over six years and pardoned. Andy was just rearrested on child sex crimes charges. Trash. Theodore Middendorf pleaded guilty to destruction of government property. He’s now doing 19 years for sexually assaulting a seven-year-old. That’s worse than trash.

At least 40 January 6th insurrectionists pardoned by President Trump have been rearrested, charged or sentenced for other crimes since January 6, 2021, according to new analysis by CREW. At least 12 pardoned insurrectionists have allegedly reoffended since receiving their pardons. Several have argued that the pardon should cover unrelated criminal convictions and in one case in November 2025, Trump explicitly re-pardoned one insurrectionist for his unrelated weapons charges.

Seven of the pardoned January 6th insurrectionists are charged with committing child sex crimes, ranging from sexual assault to possession of child pornography … (source) 

Go read the full piece at Citizens for Responsible Ethics in Washington’s site (dated December 18, 2025 – the figures are undoubtedly MUCH higher now). It’ll blow your mind. At least 97 former Capitol rioters have been accused of other post-J6 crime. 

This, these people are white trash.

Stuck In My Head

Okay, four days later and I’m still on this song. I’ve got bones to pick with those first two lines though.

Love is but a song we sing
Fear's the way we die
You can make the mountains ring
Or make the angels cry
Though the bird is on the wing
And you may not know why
~ The Youngbloods, Get Together 

Love is but a song we sing

I don’t know what Chet Powers (AKA Dino Valenti) meant when he wrote this line but, to me, it comes off like he’s saying love is some ephemeral wisp of a thing. No, no man. I got to disagree. Love is some heavy duty, bullet proof, muscular shit. Sure, sure, there’s the hearts, flowers, and dreamy frosting-like delirium but that’s really the least of it. Honest!

 Love is The Amazing Bob, Jen, Celeste, and Oni sitting with me in the pre-op cubby before I was wheeled down to one of my big-ass brain surgeries. We were laughing, cracking wise with the dark humor. TAB was stashing boxes of rubber(?) gloves into his backpack for me for later (I was the glaze chemist and mixer at a group ceramics studio back then. Gotta glove up before handling that toxic shit and it costs!) He (57) and I (40) were giggling like little rugrats over what us sneaky kids were getting away with.

It was 6AM and surgery would last at least 12 hours. Coming out with hearing was unlikely (but, that one last time, I beat the odds).

Love is sitting with TAB in his hospital room during the last couple days of his life, talking baseball, with a boombox playing Monk and Miles in the background. TAB was hallucinating that he was on a pitcher's mound. I followed his focus to the far side of the room where the batter was prepping at home plate waiting for the next pitch. I asked TAB if he was going for his knuckleball or if he was just gonna throw heat. We talked about the batter – what they might expect. In hospital room world, TAB was nearing the end. On TAB's baseball field though, he was still in the game and the very least I could do was stay with him until the last out.

Love is Ten being here for me every damn day, helping me walk up the stairs, get into the car, changing the sheets on the bed twice a day when poor Cake had a UTI, doing endless laundry, and, worst of all, driving me to all my doctor appointments through always awful Boston traffic. Ten makes me laugh and laughs when I crack wise. The man’s a fucking saint, I tell you! Also, he knows a lot about rocks, geologic shit, and climate stuff – I like that in a man.

Love isn’t all great sex and the completeness you feel when that person's near. It’s handling what life throws you with your best friend(s) by your side.

The song’s next line:

Fear's the way we die

Much more than that – caving to fear is the way we die.

When I’m afraid, (which, let’s face it, is a daily happening) I think, what’s the worst possible outcome. Is there anything I can do to prevent or mitigate this worst thing from happening? If yes, what’s that look like and let’s be creative, fer fuck's sake. If no, I figure I’ll just have to see how things roll out and go from there. Scary but I don't see a lot of other options on the damn menu.

Certainly my surgeries scare me. I try not to live in the fear zone. It doesn’t help — anxiety serves no purpose so I stuff it away somewhere, somehow. I suppose it leaks out in other places — being short tempered, hyper critical, easily fatigued, excessively snackish. 

//shrugs// Chips, guac, grilled brussels sprouts, salsa, cake, and cookies were invented for a damn good reason, ya know! If I believed in gods, I would consider carrot cake from Fratelli's bakery proof thereof. (Yes, I just had some leftover birthday cake for breakfast!)

Life is scary. It's also relentlessly pissing me clean off. This whole planet is just plain nuts. I’m talking about people – they’re strange and frightening.

People are strange
When you're a stranger
Faces look ugly
When you're alone
~ The Doors, People Are Strange 

Caving to fear is how we begin to die.

Bubblegum Life

Last night I dreamed that my beloved friend Kevin (who died 35 years ago due to Bush I’s Gulf War) was on the USS Lincoln. I was heavily stressing about how he was doing – so much so that I went in to the local Navy office to get information and, just generally, kick up a fuss. My tantrum was tamped down by the fact that the official at the desk was an old coworker of mine of whom I was quite fond. I didn’t want to go full metal Donna on him.

Where did this dream come from? 

The Little World of Liz

Yesterday was my birthday. I was feeling old and thinking of all those I’ve loved and outlived. I’m also, of course, stressing my ass off over the news.

Kevin was a Hebrew and Arabic linguist for the Navy.

The official at the desk who was a former coworker? In real life his name is Israel.

I wish all my dreams were so easy to figure out.

How did I spend my big b-day?

Well, Ten made my favorite breakfast – blueberry pancakes with spinach. He and Cake brought them to me while I lounged around in bed, blogging, doodling, and being a basic slug (one of my better innate talents). Later, I went over to Jen’s – she had picked up fish and chips from our local pub. We watched the final four (count ‘em four!) episodes of Resident Alien. OMG! I’m sorry the show came to an end BUT they wrapped it up in the best possible way. NO spoilers here!

Okay, just one. They FABULOUSLY placed The Youngbloods song Get Together. When the lyrics came up on the screen, I was stunned – I mean, it was perfect! I was immediately transported back to a naive, happier, hopeful time. I think I was 9 or 10 when the song came out. 

I actually had a friend that year (until my family moved away to the alien midwest). She and I listened to 45s on her older sister’s record player – things like Incense and Peppermints by Strawberry Alarm Clock, Simon Says by 1910 Fruitgum Company, and Pleasant Valley Sunday by The Monkees. 

I wonder what Julie’s doing now. She wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. Her dog was named Tippy. My parents were friends with hers so, years later, I heard some news about the family. One of Julie’s older brothers committed suicide on the night of her senior prom. Her father went into the dance to tell her and bring her home.

What was his reason for deleting himself? I never heard but it was implied that it had something to do with him having moved to Boston and that not working out. Not long after returning to rural Western Pennsylvania he did the deed. So, he felt like a failure? Dunno.

A few years later, when I told my folks that I was moving to Boston, my mother freaked. For the first time that I could remember, she expressed actual concern for me, my plans and safety. She wanted me to know that I could always come home. Two things:

1. With my violent, wackbrained brother, anyfuckingwhere on this planet (or any other) was safer than home. 
2. I’d just come off the road from my final season with a scuzzy Midwest carnival where I’d encountered a whole ass variety of insane dangers and I survived. Go me, eh?

I'd already been hit with some pretty solid shots. All it did was piss me off and make me more determined to get the fuck up, out, and on my own. Which I did. 

In any case, I’ve tried doing a search for Julie – no luck. I'm not looking to reconnect. Much more I’d just like to know if she became a vet or what other path her life might have taken. Did John’s suicide, just a few months before she was due to leave for college, derail her? Did she get help to understand, process and cope?

Last night I could clearly hear Get Together in my head and, yeah – you bet – my eyes got all watery.

Love is but a song we sing
Fear's the way we die
You can make the mountains ring
Or make the angels cry
Though the bird is on the wing
And you may not know why

Come on, people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another right now

If only life was that simple. Bubblegum pop did not prepare me for the harsh realities of life.

Rainy Days and Mondays

That song, Rainy Days and Mondays by The Carpenters came out in 1971. It played incessantly on my little transistor radio that didn’t pick up the 70 long mile away cool FM stations from the city. 

What could I hear when I got my hands on a better radio? The Doors, Riders on the Storm. Led Zeppelin, When the Levee Breaks and Stairway to Heaven. Rolling Stones, Brown Sugar and Wild Horses. Marvin Gaye, Mercy Mercy Me and What’s Going On. The Who, Baba O’Reilly and Won’t Get Fooled Again. Gil Scott-Heron, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Maggie May, Rod Stewart. Ain't No Sunshine, Bill Withers. Sly & The Family Stone, Family Affair, Cat Steven AKA Yusuf Islam, Peace Train.

I had just turned 13 but even I could tell the difference between Hallmark card, corporate pablum and art. 

I was stunned when, years later, people whose options I truly respected seriously claimed Karen Carpenter was an underrated drummer and praised her vocal abilities. But … but … their songs were nothing more than elevator music, grocery shopping and dentist office soundtracks. They were torpid, beige, approximations of life and NOW you’re praising her? Mes amis, Karen was no Terry Bozzio, Steve Gadd or Elvin Jones – she was no Tina Turner, Julie London or Annie Lennox but sure, yes, she definitely had talent. 

I only mention it BUT you can have angelic, high functioning pipes and fab abilities but if you lack verve – if you can’t tap into the juice of life – your music, art, writing, whatever, won’t have soul. Without soul, it will NOT live. DEAD TUNE WALKING! At best you've got something that's gonna start reeking if you don't bin it soon! I'm tellin' you.

I just read Carpenter’s Wikipedia entry. She died in ’83, a month shy of her 33rd birthday. Her long battle with anorexia nervosa finally did her in. Anorexia won.

Two years later, the coroner told colleagues that Carpenter's heart failure was caused by repeated use of ipecac syrup, an over-the-counter emetic drug often used to induce vomiting in cases of overdosing or poisoning.
~~~
Carpenter's friends were convinced that she had abused laxatives and thyroid medication to maintain her weight and felt that the problem had begun after her marriage began to fail. (source) 

Man, I thought she’d died in the late ‘70s. I guess that was just her career.

What brings this up today? It's Monday. It's raining and I'm a little down. Possibly my minor sad is because tomorrow's my birthday and I really thought I'd be a LOT farther along on my recovery path at this point. I blame my stupid, asshole toe.

Weird trivia for the day – Karen and I were born in the same town and in the very same hospital, eight years apart. Weird.

Manners

There are a ton of very good guidelines for living in a civilized society – most of which Pedo’s Republican Party defy daily but we won’t delve into that today. I want to bring up a few basic ones.

😺  Saying please, thank you, and excuse me never goes out of style. Holding the door for the person behind you is nice, especially if they're older or using some sort of mobility device.

🤧  Covering your mouth when you cough or sneeze is more than good manners. In this age of RFK jr. authored healthcare devastation, it may well save someone’s life. 

🖐🏽  If you’re in a group with strangers, go on and introduce yourself to the people you don’t know. 

👩🏽‍⚕️  Address people by their name or title. I call my myriad docs by their title and last name – Dr. Plotkin, Dr. Miller, Dr. Jacobs, etc. etc. ad infinitum. If they say “oh, you can call me Scott/Dallas/Deb” I will but otherwise, no.

👂🏽  Listen to others without interrupting. When there’s a break in their talking, ask open-ended questions. Engage in active listening. 

🗣️  On having a conversation? DON’T monologue! Engage in active listening!

🍽️  You’ve been invited to a dinner party? Bring a bottle of wine or flowers or both. Frankly, cannolis are always welcome and appropriate. Also, it’s better to arrive 10 minutes late to a dinner party than half an hour early. If you’re early to a dinner party, you’re bound to catch your hosts still prepping or dressing after putting the finishing touches on the meal they’re about to serve. Awkward. Also, do NOT be more than 10 or 15 minutes late unless it can’t possibly be helped (10 car pile-up on 93N, babysitter canceled last minute and you're calling for a replacement, dog threw up on the Bokhara and I must clean it up NOW). In that case call the host, make your apologies, give an estimate as to how late you might be and ask if you should still show. Maybe you could still make it for dessert and coffee?

 🍽️   Dining: Wait for the everyone to be served and the host to sit down before digging in. 


📞  Phone: Do NOT check your phone while you’re having conversations. If you’re having dinner, coffee, drinks, whatever, with a friend, TURN OFF YOUR DAMN PHONE! Now, I understand there are exceptions. You may be expecting an important, can’t-miss-this call. Let your friend know that you MIGHT need to interrupt your time with them to take that specific call. Do NOT engage in other random texts or calls. For fucks sake, focus on who you’re with!


👥  Don’t Stand So Close To Me: The good thing about COVID times was the six-foot distancing standard. I really liked not having strangers breathing down my neck in grocery store lines. While six feet is a bit much now, we can still maintain an extended arms length (coupla feet) when standing in queues … can’t we? 


😳  Handling Embarrassment: Be gracious and smooth when you or someone else makes a mistake. Don’t light someone else’s *oopsie* up in neon lights. Be a mensch. Sure, you can highlight your own *oopsie* for laughs if you want but never do this to someone else.


👥👥  Sidewalks: Walking with a group of people? Do NOT take up the whole sidewalk. Walk in twos. You don’t own the damn sidewalk!

👥  Escalators: Single file! Also, right side is for standing, left side is for passing/climbing. Remember this!


🚂  Elevators, Train and Bus Doors: Let people fucking exit before you try to get on, for for god’s sake!


📫  RSVPs: Be quick to respond to invitations, even if you’re saying you won’t be going. 


🌝  Social Media: Don’t air out your private, sensitive shit on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok or whatever social media site you use. Especially avoid doing this with people you work with. I mean, you can do this but brace yourself for fireworks and consequences (which may include lost employment, friendships ended, no contact relatives, etc. Go ahead, ask me how I know!).

🐛  Manspread at your peril! When you manspread you’re advertising to the world that you’re an incredibly insecure jerk with a schwanz that’d make a roundworm look tall and thick. Put your legs together you soft sackless radish!

💦  Wash your hands after using the can! What – you’re trying to be RFK jr? Are you gonna start snorting coke off the toilet seat next?

And use a damn coaster! Never put your beverage down on a wooden table unless there’s a coaster underneath it. Coasters are our friends.

Goddamnit.