Tuesday’s Bumper Sticker
Tuesday’s Theme Music
I went with an old familiar from David Bowie and Queen today. Queen’s Freddie Mercury is gone, along with David Bowie, unnecessary reminders about our final destinations.
They made their marks, though. Thanks to technology, solace can be had by listening to their performances again and again.
As today is election day in the USA (prompting some mental hearing of Alice Cooper and their song, “Elected”), but “Under Pressure” (released in 1981) seems more of a fit. Sadly, that’s because Trump and his followers, abetted by the GOP, are working hard to create obstacles for this civic duty. Once upon a day, the United States had low turnout but the elections themselves were flawlessly executed. A lot of that changed with the hanging chads debacle in Florida in 2000. At least, such is where it seems to start in my mind, as the SCOTUS was called upon to interpret state laws, halt the recount, and declare a winner. Since then, campaigning and elections have become more contentious in the USA.
The nature of Trump’s campaigning and the attributes of his base have added to the pressure. Trump wants votes to not be counted, squalling like an infant over cheating that doesn’t exist, threatening to challenge results in court beforehand, obviously attempting to intimidate voters. Gun and ammo sales are up. The FBI is warning of the threat of violence from armed Trump supporters.
More pressure yet comes from COVID-19. Again, politics are in play. Republican led states are leading as COVID-19 cases climb. As cases climb, hospitals fill, but our healthcare system under greater and greater pressure.
That pressure comes atop the economic pressure instilled by necessary measures to flatter the curve. Experts consistently warned that a sizeable chunk of the US population is working poor, without emergency savings, living from paycheck to paycheck. All that was swept under the rug. Now, coronavirus has curtailed the service and consumer economy, and people are under pressure to have enough money to pay the rent and buy food.
Yeah, it’s a mess. All of that is just a tiny fraction of the mess we’re in – so many things weren’t mentioned because I didn’t want to go too ranty before my coffee – but it all adds to the pressure that we face in the United States, part of the pressure we’re facing in the world, making the Queen/David Bowie song “Under Pressure” my choice for today’s theme music.
Now I need to go see a machine about some coffee. Cheers
Monday’s Theme Music
Computer issues drop-kicked my Sunday into Sourday yesterday. Naturally, I blamed 2020. Made more sense than blaming myself, or HP, Microsoft, Kaspersky, or anything else. No, this was 2020’s fault. Because, 2020 has been a helluva memorable year for all the wrong reasons, from my perspective.
Like, yesterday, I went for a short walk. Golden leaves were flaring bright against the sky blue. The air was warmish at seventy, but clearer than a new 4K television picture. Yet, given my ‘puter issues, my mood was sour. Walking out of the house and up the hill, I remembered the four small, beautiful cats who used to greet me when I came out. Pepper, Buddy, and Mimi (aka Princess) all were neighbor cats. Quinn was my own. None were big. Three were long-furred but all were sweet and happy. All were here last year, last fall. Now, all were gone, victimized by life and death, as we all will be.
Yeah, some mood, right?
It’s natural for my mind to provide theme music, background to whatever I’m doing. Yesterday’s chosen song stayed with me for today. Probably did this song as theme music before; I didn’t bother to look. Frying other matters in my head, you know?
Here is Green Day with “Wake Me When September Ends” (2005). In place of September, feel free to insert anything else. I inserted 2020, as in wake me when 2020 ends.
Cheers
Saturday’s Theme Music
So many songs out there, you know? So many genres, and talented musicians, artists, performers, groups. We live with an embarrassment of riches. Technology helps us get even wealthier by allowing us to find and play them almost instantaneously.
With all that’s out there, an amazing number of songs get cornered into niches and seem to disappear from consciousness. One of those songs for me is “Special” by Garbage (1998).
It’s a song that I’ve not heard on the radio in yonks. Came to me this morning as I was reading the news about undecided voters. This was after I called and wished my old man a happy eighty-eighth birthday. He’s an undecided voter.
Somehow from all those swirling thoughts, conversations, and read words came the “Special” lyrics, “Do you have an opinion? A mind of your own?” But of course, the undecided do. They just can’t seem to decide what to believe and support, it seems. I’ve read all manner of political, sociological, and psychology papers about why they’re undecided in recent weeks. Multiple reasons can be enumerated, from being stuck in echo chambers reverberating with false information, to being outraged and disenchanted about the GOP and Democratic Parties, to doubts that Biden is much of a change from Trump (in their opinion), to weariness.
That makes “Special” an apropos song for Saturday’s theme music. Here we sit, on the elections’ cusp in the U.S.A. in 2020, waiting to see what everyone thinks, and how they vote.
Have a good one, wherever you’re at, and please wear a mask. Cheers
My Venn Diagram
It’s like I’m all over the place – everything and nothing.
Bag It
Tucker Carlson has a problem with disappearing papers. From NY Mag Intelligencer:
On Wednesday night’s show, Tucker Carlson reported that his team had acquired incriminating documents. However, they sent them from Washington to Los Angeles, and the documents disappeared. And they neglected to make any copies. So now the only copy of the documents that would nail the probable next president of the United States are gone:
Few believe poor Tucker. He’s being mocked to hell and back.
I understand, though. I’ve been there.
I was taking university classes with the University of Maryland (go, Terps!) around my schedule when I was stationed with the Air Force at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, Japan, back in the eighties. My wife and I lived with two cats in a tiny place off base outside of one of the gates.
Finishing a paper, I put it on the bookcase by the door so it’d be there when I departed and I was less likely to forget it. This was pre-computer days. I’d pounded out the paper on my used government IBM Selectric II typewriter. Our cat, Jade, jumped up on the bookcase and puked on the paper. Gross as was, there was no way I could turn that in. I thought about bagging it for evidence but laughed that off.
Abashed, I reported what happened to my professor and asked for another day. Dismayed, he said, “Well, I’ve heard that before, or variations, but I never expected to hear it from you. Well, okay, I’ll give it a day.” It really pissed me off that he clearly didn’t believe me, but he gave me the day.
Next time, I’ll bag it and turn it in.
Monday Miscellany
- Dreamed that I was concerned about a young cat. Young, I was busy working somewhere. Constantly watching over it, I kept worrying about it having food, enough to eat, and being safe. In an odd moment in the dream, as I turned to go down a hallway and check on the cat, I thought, the cat is me. Strange dream moment. The entire dream had a quality of peeking into a different version of my existence.
- In the same dream, interspersed with my concerns about the cat, my cousin, Rick was planning to take me to meet his son, Danny. Like a recurring gag, Rick would appear and ask me when I was ready to go. I’d be blank: “Go where?” Then I would remember, “Oh, that’s right, to go meet…” Then I’d blank on the name and he would supply, “Danny.” Once best friends, I haven’t seen this cousin in over twenty years. We drifted into different directions, as they say. He had a son who I’ve never seen. I don’t recall the son’s name. He divorced that young woman within months of her giving birth to his son. I don’t know what all this means.
- An Uber self-driving car has killed someone. Uber isn’t being charged. Thinking, shades of Isaac Asimov, I conjured a story where a person is set up to be killed by a self-driving car.
- My wife was reading about “Death Wish” coffee. She thinks it might be a coffee that speaks to me. She reading aloud some hilarious Amazon reviews. “I bought this to keep me alert and focused at work. By my second cup I no longer needed a keyboard or mouse, as I was able to control my computer directly by thought. By the third cup I could hear colors and smell sounds. After my fourth cup, I decided to burn off some of the excess energy with a quick jog, and ended up finishing the Kessel Run in 11 parsecs flat!” Another: “Dear Death Wish, I just tried your coffee after receiving it the other day. I always start my day with about 4 cups so I thought, “Eh, why not”. After about the 3d cup I decided to start that kitchen demolition I had been wanting to do. But I forgot to turn off the water beforehand. Then I thought, “Eh, I always wanted an indoor pool”. Then I thought I should cut a hole in the roof to accommodate a skylight for the pool. Everything is going to plan but I need more coffee now. I need to start on installing the diving board.”
- Some serious crazy is seeping out of the GOP. Renea Turner calls herself “Trump in a skirt”. (I wonder if she grabs men by their peckers?) A woman who ran as a write-in candidate against Ohio Governor Mike DeWine in 2018, she declared herself governor of the state because she’s decided that DeWine overstepped his legal authority. She’s been implicated in a plot to kidnap and prosecute Gov. DeWine. This is at least the second such plot against a governor revealed in the last thirty days.
- We heard about twenty-three year-old Ryquell Armstead this weekend. Who is he? A professional running back with the Jacksonville Jaguars, he’s been out with COVID-19 the entire season. Quoting ESPN.com, “Armstead has been hospitalized twice and has suffered from a variety of complications connected to the virus, including significant respiratory issues, and has been hit harder than some expected.” That’s the issue with COVID-19: you don’t know how it will affect you. He is Black, and we know that Blacks are more susceptible, but he’s also young, and a trained athlete. It’s scary what the virus can do. He’s expected to recover and play next but the obvious caveat is that he was never expected to be out this long and have the complications that he’s experienced. As former New Jersey governor Chris Christie discovered, having COVID-19 can be a painful and exhausting experience, even if you survive. He, who did not wear masks all the times, is now a convert and urges, “Wear a mask.” I agree.
- My fiction writing continues to come along but it’s fitful process. As noted before, I miss the structure I created with my routines. I also miss the solitude said routines created, along with the stimulation caused by casual contacts. But I persevere because I’m stupid that way, and the tale that I’m discovering continues to entertain me. Time passes so swiftly each day, though. I find myself wondering what happened to the hours. Got my coffee, though, so it’s time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
Trump On 60Minutes
I watched Lesley Stahl attempt to interview Donald Trump on 60Minutes last night. He was amazingly childish and immature while managing to also be arrogant and condescending. I’ve actually had employees like him. Managing them was as bizarre as his behavior on the television show.
Trump’s cognitive dissonance was frequently revealed. He’s always dismissing the mainstream press as false news and denigrating their veracity. Meanwhile, when Ms. Stahl asks him for proof, he tells her to read the newspapers. Well, which is it, Donald? Fake news or evidence?
The FBI that he so often disparages was cited and lauded in the plot to kidnap Governor Whitmer of Michigan. Yet, again, if his justice department had the evidence that’s being published routinely (according to him) in newspapers, why isn’t that same Justice Department bringing charges?
I won’t address the multiple times he was exposed as lying. Just not worth it because it’s surreal. He can be shown videos of the things he’s said, shown videos of evidence revealing his lies (like when he’s claimed “everybody behind me had a mask” at an Arizona rally), and quoted verbatim, and simply refuses to acknowledge that he’s been caught in the lie. That’s nothing new; he’s been doing it since he began running for the presidency, and continued it once he moved into the White House.
Nor is it worth talking about his healthcare plans. They’re in the same blackhole of existence as his tax returns. He will never reveal either.
The cognitive dissonance, and that his supporters don’t see it, is worth addressing.
Saturday’s Theme Music
A 1980s power ballad burst into my head this morning. I was a little lethargic getting up. Not really looking forward to the day.
Seems like I’m in a rut. I don’t think I’m alone in that self-appraisal, not just in the U.S., but in many parts beyond our coastlines.
A large part of my malaise is the novel coronavirus who dances under several names, but most frequently appears as COVID-19. “Winter is coming,” George R.R. Martin has Ned Stark warning us. Up here in the northern climes, the daylight period is falling shorter. Night hangs on a little longer. With an overcast day like this one, there’s no daylight, just a pale grey nothingness to the sky.
I long for my old, comfortable routines. Man, am I a person of habit. I used to be flexible and adapt, but as I’ve aged, my processes have ossified. Change comes hard.
Different songs about change and attitude set the background to my dream reflections and morning routines, but then an absolutely obstinate cat – we call him Boo – crystallized the choice.
Here’s “Never Surrender” by Corey Hart (1985). For Boo.
Michael Seidel, writer 