Amazon is a huge company that puts in an amazing amount of effort and intelligence to make for great online shopping experiences. But the capricious nature of Amazon’s packing frequently amazes me. A recent case in point: one order of coffee (about $20 value) and an order of two external hard drives (about $500 value). The coffee came in a large, protective box. The hard drives came in a small plastic envelope. Granted: the hard drives are individually wrapped in boxes, and I hate over packaging, but given the relative value of the items alone, shipping the delicate electronic hard drives in an envelope seems like a good way to stress test the hard drive packaging.
In this episode, Marcia is interviewed by a TV reporter on her thoughts on women’s liberation. When she gets home, her family gathers around to see her on TV.
This screenshot is taken from the four minute mark.
Peter and Greg Brady watching TV, in the Brady Bunch episode, “The Liberation of Marcia Brady”.
Nothing to see here, right… Wait… What is that? – Let’s zoom in…
Creepy Cat Close-up
Which of the nine circles of hell did this demon cat abomination crawl? It has grown fat on the souls of the damned!
Wanna know why I think the cat would fit? – Because I copied and pasted it into the painting and I bet you didn’t notice. (Click the image for a larger view and to play, Find Waldo the Demon Cat Sculpture.)
Okay people. Signing off for 2021. It is my desire that 2022 be a good year for all. Peace-out.
I enjoy old TV shows, for the sake nostalgia, and for the little cultural gems that can be found in them.
Take for example, The Mary Tyler Moore Show. At the time, it was very much adult comedy, that explored new territory (such as a happily single, unmarried working woman.) But even the salacious, sexual innuendo have a cute quality to them by today’s standards.
But in the episode “Not With My Wife, I Don’t“, the cultural surprise isn’t the sexual jokes, but rather the scene where reporter, Murray Slaughter (played by Gavin MacLeod), returns from researching a gun story, armed to the teeth with machine guns and bandoliers. Even allowing for the idea that the character was sent to do this for the sake of reporting, the light-hearted tone has a different quality to current sensibilities.
Season 6, 16th episode of the season (136th show episode), entitled, “Not With My Wife, I Don’t“, aired January 3, 1976.
“It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: “And this, too, shall pass away.”
Today’s random photo from the vault was taken at Bangalore Palace, October 31, 2015.
Here is a simultaneously funny and scary example of Security Theater: an unattended rifle, leaning, rather precariously against a shrub. I watched for some time: no sign of the guard. What could possibly go wrong? The best case scenario is that the rifle wasn’t ever loaded.
I also like the sad little details of the taped and broken plastic chairs.
India is a fantastic place. I highly recommend a visit for those who are open minded. But in a country of over a billion people, it is often evident that safety is very, very laxed, because, I’d guess: there is an underlying, unspoken philosophy that have plenty of back-up people.
“Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth – more than ruin, more even than death. Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habits; thought is anarchic and lawless, indifferent to authority, careless of the well-tried wisdom of the ages. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid … Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man.”
When writing a post title, I try to think of something witty, or at least punny while also being succinct. Alas, I couldn’t think of how to encapsulate this post with anything pithy. Maybe, my difficulty stems from the fact that I’m writing this with an insomniac brain starting at 3:30am. But I’m going to console myself with the idea that in the entirety of history of spoken language, the words Flamenco, Raccoon and Kitsch have almost certainly never been combined before in an attempt to communicate something.
I’ve noted a few times, that I enjoy yard Kitsch. (At least when it’s not one of my immediate neighbors.) So, here are a few more gems for the collection. Both of these adornments are found in the front yard of a single house: within a few feet of the road. I pass them semi-regularly on the way to a local park until finally, one day, pulled over to get a couple of quick photos to share with the world.
The first figure is probably 15 feet tall and evidently was created from the remains of a tree. As I’d drive by it at speed, I was always left with the impression of Jack Skellington, from the movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas.
It wasn’t until I started to examine the photo closely, that I started to perceive that this figure may be intended as some sort of Spanish Flamenco dancer due to the belt sash and Cordovan hat.
If Modern Family’s, Ty Burrell were a Flamenco dancer.
Looking closer, at the design and craftsmanship is interesting.
The arms were branches, I’d guess. But the arms and hands also seem to be covered in rubber cloth. So, the creator had to fashion sleeves, of just the right length and created little cuffs with buttons. The hands, or gloves, appear to be filled with some material that gives them a real roundness. I wonder how the glove hands are attached. – It probably wasn’t easy.
The head appears to be made out of plastic or metal and has been customized with a notch to fit neatly around the left arm. The eyes are black Xs. – Kind of an international indication of someone who is either dead or drunk.
Dead or drunk, Jack Skellington, tree Flamenco dancer, bids you to join him in a hug.
The next shot reveals a background with the house and property . – All neatly manicured and in no way exceptional except for the these two giant, permanent figures in the front.
This second sculpture is about 12 feet tall and as far as I can figure, it’s a grey raccoon riding a bike. Let’s look at the details.
Raccoon Bicyclist
The figure also appears to have been carved from a giant tree, but as I examined the bottom of the figure, I started to have my doubts, at least about the base. I circled in red what appear to be pipes, and the eclipse at the bottom shows what appears to be a seam. These items and the odd textures made me question that this wasn’t some sort of artificial base. – I don’t know what to do with that information, but it adds a wrinkle to the story of its creation. Was there some functionality? Did the pipes in the front connect to the pipes sticking out of the ground? Perhaps a fountain at one time?
Base artifacts
Stepping back a little, we can observe some interesting details ranging from giant novelty sized sunglasses, a black top hat, peace sign and a license plate on the front that reads, ‘United States Marine Veteran’. Taking up the rear of the bike is a flag. And, a recent addition is the Covid compliant face-mask.
Covid compliant raccoon
Think about it all as one picture. – Some rural country-dweller who maintains all of their house and yard along cultural standards decided that these two giant statues would add value in their front yard. They spent considerable time making them by chisel or chainsaw or plaster-cast. The got cloth and buttons and fashioned clothes and a mask. They formed hats and heads and painted them. The got a large bike, cut out the midsection and then figured out how to attach it so as to create the illusion that the giant raccoon was astride the bike. Then the creator put on a giant pair of sunglasses; added a peace-symbol to their Veteran American Marine raccoon, and then stuck a flag onto the back of the bike. Finally, after how many days or weeks of work, they stood back, arms folded and nodded approvingly at their handicraft and said to themselves. There! That is what was needed! They then went back into the house and turned on a gameshow.
“If we offer too much silent assent about mysticism and superstition – even when it seems to be doing a little good – we abet a general climate in which scepticism is considered impolite, science tiresome, and rigorous thinking somehow stuffy and inappropriate. Figuring out a prudent balance takes wisdom.”
~ Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark
I especially like the extra special logical incongruity of the ‘Pro Gun’ pistol barrel pointing at the ‘Pro Life’ heart.
The woman who (apparently) owned the vehicle was about mid-30s. White. She had a huge bag of dog food that I helped her heave into the vehicle. Not sure why that matters, but context is often interesting.
“Formerly, when religion was strong and science weak, men mistook magic for medicine; now, when science is strong and religion weak, men mistake medicine for magic.”
Facebook, like most social media, has been a disappointment to me and I’ve taken to staying clear of it. But recently, after more than a half year’s absence, I did have an occasion to login and wish a friend well on a project. Naturally, I got sucked in…
It wasn’t long before I came across some attrocious posts. The most startling of which was one that reads, ‘So you tear down monuments that remind you of slavery… Then create a holiday to remember slavery‘. – Presented below with poster / commenters names redacted. (Although, I’m not entirely sure why I bothered, since, after all, they clearly shared this publicly from their accounts already. [I suppose, I want to make it less about the individuals and more about the flawed, ‘thinking’.])
So you tear down monuments that remind you of slavery… Then create a holiday to remember slavery meme.
I was tempted… SO TEMPTED to leave a comment to break down what is wrong with this, but wisely, I decided to not feed the trolls… Still, the stupidity of it was so overwhelming and the sentiment so sickening, I feel that I needed to vent somewhere, so… here we are.
The poster had written, ‘SMGDH’ = Smack my God Damn Head. – I volunteer for the duty!
I guess, for starters, I need to note how cock-sure the poster (and vast number of commenters) were, that this was a clearly an obvious sentiment and logical conclusion. And I’m struck about how cock-sure I am that this is unfathomably stupid and evil. But I’m going to outline the arguments and let the reader decide.
For starters, the poster seems to think that the confederate monuments are testaments against slavery, as opposed to being favorable memorials for the white supremacy, the confederacy and their traitorous and loathsome advocacy and support for slavery.
And / or, they seem to think that, the newly enacted federal holiday of ‘Juneteenth’ is an avocation in favor of slavery.
And / or that commemoration of liberty is equivalent morally to the celebration of the villains that tried to take away said liberty.
And / or that people simply want to, ‘forget that whole slavery thing already, so why are we making a holiday about it if we don’t also want statues… (?)’
When the reality is: the confederate statues are analogous to people erecting reverent statues for Osama bin Laden in the country’s town squares and then arguing that they’re there for the sake of ‘history’.
Osama Bin Laden’s bust. Photo by Helen Janes.
In this ever so slightly alternate world, not only would we have statues of Taliban leaders, nobly captured on bronze plinths and Taliban flags hanging from state capitals and as stickers on the bumpers of pick-up trucks, we’d also have memes that joked anyone who supported their removal couldn’t also, be advocates for the 9/11 memorial.
So, class, from the top:
• Statues to the confederacy are championing the leaders and concepts of people who advocated for the violent overthrow of the country, the subjugation of people, and in support of slavery.
• The Juneteenth holiday is in commemoration of the ending of the ugliest chapter in American history and is in celebration of freedom. (Editor’s note: I greatly prefer the other names for the holiday including Emancipation Day, Freedom Day and Black Independence Day which are far better ‘branding’.)
• Summary: Advocates for the holiday do not want slavery forgotten. They want to celebrate its defeat. They do not want to put slavery’s champions on literal pedestals.
“These statues are not just stone and metal. They are not just innocent remembrances of a benign history. These monuments purposefully celebrate a fictional, sanitized Confederacy; ignoring the death, ignoring the enslavement, and the terror that it actually stood for.”
I’m a couple of days late in posting, but on May 22, 2021: This website turned 20 years old.
I’m sorry that I did not get to the post on that day, but life has been busy. – Good busy. – So: I’ll forgive myself.
When I started the site, I had some hopes that it might become, ‘something‘. – That hasn’t happened and yet, I’m glad I started and maintained the site. It’s been a good hobby. I’ve watched other people’s sites come and go or fall into neglect and yet I have persevered: which is something I take pride in.
Cheers to you old website. Happy birthday. Happy anniversary. May we have 20 more years or more together!
“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”
In the last year, Covid has almost become the new, go to small-talk default subject, like weather. And so it was, that in talking with a work colleague, the person I was speaking with balked at the notion of getting a Covid vaccination. The person said, Covid is, ‘Just the flu’. And went on to brag about never even having a flu shot.
The lack of science literacy (much of it, willful), and poor societal risk assessment is getting a lot of people killed.
R0 is the reproductive rate of a contagion. Flu has an R Nought value of ~ 1.3; whereas Covid, has an R Nought value of 2 to 5.7. (And new versions are becoming more contagious. Because the disease is fairly new to medicine, researchers are still tabulating the data required to calculate R0 more or less in real time.) – As a historical comparison, the R0 of the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic is estimated to have been between 1.4 and 2.8, according to an article published in BMC Medicine.
What’s more, unlike the flu, for which there is a vaccine, until just recently, everyone in the population is theoretically susceptible to COVID-19. That’s the difference in susceptibility between the flu which affects 8% vs 50% and 80% of the the population could be infected with COVID-19.
Long Haul
The attempts to mitigate the risk and the deaths get most of the headlines, but if people don’t care if they and their loved ones (or, fellow humanity), dies, then maybe perhaps they might be concerned with the potential, crippling ramifications of the disease that is affecting many.
Long COVID (aka Long-Haulers) is estimated to affect 10% to 30% of people who get symptomatic infection. According to new research shared by the medical journal “BMJ Open,” one or more organs are impaired for up to four months in 70% of long haulers.
I take this personally, as I know of a dear friend who took all of the precautions but still got Covid. He was not hospitalized, but now, a year later, he’s still handicapped by the disease with debilitating brain-fog, chronic fatigue and other quality of life crushing symptoms.
Vaccinated
I actually understand that some people are going to look at a disease, and say, ‘death happens’. – I get that instinct. To quote a friend of mine, ‘Over a long enough period of time, life is 100% fatal.‘
But it’s not a matter of unavoidable fate. Just on stats alone, the number of deaths and illnesses are exceptional and global: this isn’t the ‘just’ the flu. (Which would also be a lot worse if it wasn’t for mitigation.) In a perfectly logical world, we could probably erratic Covid. Alas, we don’t operate that perfectly. But we can mitigate the suffering and death if we cooperate more and take what measures we can.
And sadly, so much of this anti-science, anti-reason rhetoric is political. I’m quite willing to bet that there is a correlation between the number of people who are feverishly anti-terrorist, gun hoarding, freedom-fry loving, flag waving, canned food hoarding zealots with those who balk at the notion of wearing a mask to protect themselves and their fellow citizens.
For my part, I got vaccinated as quickly as I could without cutting line. I did my research before I got it. – With any medicine (and, frankly, anything in life), nothing is 100% risk free but I found that the risks associated with a new vaccine vs Covid were inconsequential. I acknowledge that science and human endeavors are often fraught with unintended consequences, and this could, hypothetically, be the case. But, as in all things in life: we are at our best when we weigh the evidence. And the evidence clearly demonstrates that the probability risk easily falls in the favor of a vaccination.
“We’ve arranged a global civilization in which most crucial elements profoundly depend on science and technology. We have also arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. This is a prescription for disaster. We might get away with it for a while, but sooner or later this combustible mixture of ignorance and power is going to blow up in our faces.”
~ Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark
I spent a good deal of timing writing posts to the Friends and Family section of the site this month, and so: all I have time or energy for here is a quick and lazy sharing of a nearly random photo from my collection.
This is a merchant on the streets of Mandawa, India taken on November 11th, 2015. It’s one of my favorites from the trip because of the depth of the textures and the character of the man caught in some minor, passing moment.
“Groundhog found fog. New snows and blue toes. Fine and dandy for Valentine candy. Snow spittin’; if you’re not mitten-smitten, you’ll be frostbitten! By jing-y feels spring-y.”
Some text spam makes you feel like you’re missing out. I’ve never been ‘gleamed” before. It sounds so dirty and erotic. But it is nice to know that three strangers (Lippke, “I” and Layla) can surely sense that this link could gleam my evening. And it’s cute that they have a pet name for me, ‘Pauline’.
The year that was 2020 was so challenging, it apparently decided to leak into January 2021 with an encore act called, ‘violent sedition in America in the interest of overthrowing a free and fair election’.
I could vent and storm on Traitorous Trump and his minions until my fingers bled onto my keyboard. But after more than four years of the Trump dumpster fire, I feel exhausted.
But in short:
A) I’m not remotely surprised.
B) The magnitude of the act should chill the blood and nauseate the stomach of every person who supports democracy. It is a topic that should not be washed from the forefront of our consciousness in a month, in a year or a decade.
C) It isn’t over yet. The body of the American democracy has been poisoned and I can’t hardly gauge how long it will last, how bad the reverberations will be. Although Trump was flushed from the Whitehouse, he, his offspring and cronies will continue to pollute our country for the foreseeable future. We now have something analogous to nearly half our population who say the world is flat. That is not the traditional, ‘loyal political opposition’. – That is a fundamental fractured world view. We are not a country that looks at the same facts and come to different conclusions. We are a country where almost half of the populace have ‘alternate facts‘.
“Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities.”
~ Voltaire
On the plus side: Trump is no longer president. The so-called GOP are diminished in power in both houses. Some righting of wrongs can be undertaken. Hopefully, the foundations of our democracy can he be shored up so that they can better weather the next assault.
I wonder if we could dip the entire white-house grounds in bleach to help reduce the Trump stink…? Regardless: I hope, that al least, they replaced all of the mattresses, seat cushions and toilet seats.
So, it was with some enjoyment that I share this house. Every year, it’s good for some amusement. But finally, this year, we pulled over and took a couple of quick pics.
On an initial, quick review, one might find pleasure in the overall random color chaos. But if we zoom in, and pan around, we’ll see some real gems.
Starting on the left, there is a standard Santa alongside what appears to be a gingerbread house with a Santa hat wearing ginger man popping out of the chimney. Next to this is a gingerbread princess. Surrounding the princess are a large candy cane, a small candy cane, a couple of cut-out gingerbread me, an American flag and a nutcracker.
Panning right, we see some sort of stair critter peering from a melting snow mound. I can’t tell what species, but whatever it is, I think it has an eating disorder. I suspect that this is not a seasonal decoration, but intended as a year-round improvement to the yard aesthetic.
Tucked along the porch edge is a bright blue Eeyore with one blue hoof on the head of what appears to be a rabbit holding a lamp (or the glass elevator from Willy Wonka). And if you look in the left corner of this image, in front of the mini-stone bird bath, there appears to be a Mickey or Mini Mouse face-planted in the mulch.
As we continue our journey along the bedding, we find a small collection of Disney Dwarves and a Snow White (whose head is covered under a garbage bag). I wonder if all the dwarves are there, but some are hidden beneath the garbage. In front of the dwarves is a Pepsi can.
Panning further back, and up the fence, we see two Disney decorative plates: a Tinker Bell and a Beauty (of the Beast fame.) I suspect (or hope), that they are not official Disney merchandise given the fact that they are extra garish.
Now, let’s zoom out a bit to appreciate the right side of the image more holistically.
The top windows of the house have 3 light-up plastic wreathes. The porch, the tree, and part of the sidewalk path are garnished with different sized lights.
Tucked on the porch are colorful remnants: some decorations that did not make the cut. One wonders what the criteria is for failing.
Framing the stairs are two large ‘Noel’ candles and a rather puffy candy-cane.
An inflatable Micky monitors the sidewalk and a maliciously grinning Grinch closely inspects the dormant grass in front of the dirty snow. To the right of the Grinch is a stray garbage bag that might be suffocating some additional, unseen dwarves.
To the far right, we see a light-up faux pine tree scaffolding, topped with a star. Behind the tree is a bench painted with the American flag.
Now, let’s zoom back in to the centerpiece…
The pièce de résistance is the plastic Nativity scene which includes an orange cow; a porcelain-white (and yet-somehow middle-eastern) Mary (who seems to be staring into the void, contemplating her life choices); a pink shawed Joseph; two wise-men and a donkey with alien eyes kneeling in reverence over a cradle-less baby Princess Leah (who apparently lights up but is currently unplugged).
Behind all, the gingerbread man seems really delighted at having knocked out the third wise-man who lies supine behind Mary.
It delights me to think of the owner putting down the last of the decorations: the final touches. Standing back, hand on hips, a pleased smile and a knowing gleam in the eye. ‘There. That’s it!‘
I hope they had fun decorating, because I, at least, had fun looking at the decorations.
“Not long ago, if you wanted to seize political power in a country you had merely to control the army and the police. Today it is only in the most backward countries that fascist generals, in carrying out a coup d’état, still use tanks. If a country has reached a high degree of industrialization the whole scene changes…. Today a country belongs to the person who controls communications.”
For starters, I suppose I was wrong because I didn’t want to let my guard down based on the surprise of the Trump 2016 outcome. I didn’t want to feel complacent. And because of my apprehension, I put more effort into fighting against Trump and his enablers.
But, there was also evidence: signs, signs, everywhere Trump signs.
BothTrump rallies and door to door campaigning would have manifested more lawn signs than Biden’s more digital approach.
And then there is the factor of rural vs urban voters. Urban voters far outnumber rural, but, of course, rural, pretty-much by definition, are the ones most likely to have yards and farms for signs to be posted.
Although the maps of counties make PA look overwhelmingly red, those fewer blue counties are more urban and hold the majority of voters.
For us, although we’re rural, we opted to not put out a yard sign for a number of reasons, including the fact that we don’t care to broadcast our political proclivities to many of our Q-Anon, radical right neighbors. But just as importantly, we didn’t want to generate more garbage for landfills. (Yeah: we hug trees too…)
But even if I was wrong in my yard sign calculations, I’ll say that I was way too close to being right. It shouldn’t even have been a contest. Even now, as I did correctly predict, Trump is advocating for nothing less than a coup d’état: an over turning of the will of the people. It amazes and devastates me how normalized this treasonous behavior has now become.
But I want to end on a positive note. The battle is not won, but it is joined. Trump, the loser, lost again. Biden, a man of compassion, has won. And for that, we turned on our smart-bulb lights to red, white and blue and blasted fireworks into the sky. Sometimes, being wrong, is alright.
There are no pets in this White House, no loyal man’s best friend, no Socks the family cat, no kids’ science fairs.
No time when the president takes off his blue suit red tie uniform and becomes human, except when he puts on his white shirt and khaki pants uniform and hides from the American people to play golf.
There are no images of the First Family enjoying themselves together in a moment of relaxation.
No Obamas on the beach in Hawaii moments, or Bushes fishing in Kennebunkport.
No Reagans on horseback, no Kennedys playing touch football on the Cape.
Where’d that country go?
Where did all the fun, the joy and the expression of love and happiness go?
We used to be the country that did the Ice Bucket Challenge and raised millions for charity.
We used to have a President that calmed and soothed the nation instead dividing it, and a First Lady who planted a garden instead of ripping one out.
We are rudderless and joyless.
We have lost the cultural aspects of society that make America great.
We have lost our mojo, our fun, our happiness, our cheering on of others.
The shared experience of humanity that makes it all worth it.
The challenges and the triumphs that we shared and celebrated.
The unique can-do spirit that America has always been known for.
We’re counting down to the election. Less than a week away now.
I think there is a palpable dread in the air.
My take is: even if Trump is flushed from the White House, the damage that he and his toadies have done to this country may be a fatal wound. – It will certainly leave scars and damage that will take a long time to recover.
The Supreme Court (and a now a huge percentage of the federal bench) is in the clutches of the far right. That fact alone will continue to bleed the country of justice for a long time to come. In that way, Trump (and more credit worthy), Moscow Mitch McConnell, have already won.
And if Trump loses, a huge percentage of the populace won’t accept it. That will includes reinvigorated right-wring militia and white nationalist types.
Our best hope to pull out of this nose-dive isn’t just a Biden / Harris landslide, it’s also if the corrupt GOP loses control of the Senate.
But even so, I fully expect Trump will never accept his loss and will gather his sycophants around to poison the body of our democracy.
Trump is a mean little coward, a bully and a troll.
A trump loss doesn’t mean we’re healed, it just means, at best, that we’ve stopped the most aggressive stabs to the American body. We will still be in jeopardy of bleeding out. We will still be at risk of a poisonous infection.
“This is how elected autocrats subvert democracy—packing and ‘weaponizing’ the courts and other neutral agencies, buying off the media and the private sector (or bullying them into silence), and rewriting the rules of politics to tilt the playing field against opponents. The tragic paradox of the electoral route to authoritarianism is that democracy’s assassins use the very institutions of democracy—gradually, subtly, and even legally—to kill it.”
“The greatest menace to freedom is an inert people; that public discussion is a political duty; and that this should be a fundamental principle of the American government.”
Last weekend, I had an occasion to drive across Pennsylvania. I saw Trump signs out number Biden signs at a ratio of about 100 to 1. And so many of the signs weren’t just run of the mill, small signs. Many were extra large, banners and home made billboards. I can’t vouch for the rest of the swing states, but I think Trump is going to win Pennsylvania. Perhaps not the popular vote, but I think he’s going to get the electoral votes.
“The way of fortune is like the milkyway in the sky; which is a number of small stars, not seen asunder, but giving light together: so it is a number of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather faculties and customs, that make men fortunate.”
End of the month; actually a lot happened; more than I have time to write about; yada yada yada…
So, instead, in commemoration of the vacation I’m not taking this summer because of the plague: here is a hot summer breeze blast from the past photo memory. Lake Powell: September 3rd, 2017. Oh, how I miss you.
Desert Moon Rising over the beach waters and buttes of Lake Powell.
My better half and I know, or at least highly suspect that among most of our friends, we’re the considered the crazy germaphobes.
Visiting Home Depot tonight, we saw a woman pushing her cart around without a mask. (In spite of the BIG sign on the store front that says masks are mandatory.)
We grumbled to ourselves about this disrespectful infraction, with many a surly glare towards the massless woman.
Checking out through the open air garden center, wearing our masks, we were still fuming over the woman, when a masked man in front turns to us, looks down at the marking on the ground and says, ‘6 feet’.
We were about 3 inches short of the 6 feet social distance marker painted on the cement floor.
Again: I wonder at people’s thought processes. This is a decently maintained property. (Although the garage looks a bit nicer than the house, interestingly enough.)
There is an interesting combination of earnestness and humor.
I’m guessing that the angel is a repurposed nativity angel that in this instance, was propped up to cheer fellow citizens in the time of Covid crisis. Keep the fait! And wash your hands. (‘Warsh’) Further down the yard, we see a ‘posted sign’. The owner (who has even gone to the trouble fo signing and addressing the sign) seems to care a lot about trespassing. The property is probably not more than a half an acre, I’d guess. – And it’s a typical yard: not the kind of place where one has trouble with hunters, trappers or lawn fishing.Another hand painted, off-kilter sign nailed to a large tree in the front yard. This sign is a permanent fixture. Beneath the sign though is a reminder that one needs to ‘Drink More Milk, Less Pop and Beer’.
In pursuit of some level of exercise, I have occasion to walk local neighborhoods. There are little, implied stories in the neighborhood yards.
I’m rather found of yard kitsch. There is a story here, if only we can read it.
Here is one such story:
This is the front yard of a house. The lawn is unmowed and unkempt. And yet, there is a small, roughly rectangular patch of dirt, about 2 foot by 4 foot.
The patch of dirt is decorated with a selection of flowers: both real and artificial, attended to by scarf wearing ceramic rabbits and two faux-butterflies. Laying on its side is a black and yellow, watering can invoking the image of a large, grounded bumblebee.
So, is this someone’s idea of yard beautification? Is the watering can part of the tableau or just abandoned after a recent flower watering? Did the designer buy the plants and ornaments specifically for the scene or is this cobbled together from treasures already on hand? After the flowers were watered, did the creator stand back, hands on hips, nodding in self-approval. ‘There! THAT is what the yard needed!’
Or is this all tongue-in-cheek? Created with a wink and a knowing smile: some private joke, laid out for the neighbors to see and ponder.
Or is it a sad monument to a fallen pet? If so, it’s kind of large and peculiar with its front-yard location. If it’s a pet cemetery, one must know that it will someday be lost to the yard. And yet, how sweet? – An homage to a loved companion.
Perhaps it is more sinister: a grave of a minced murder victim. – All suspicion covered in kitsch.
“There are eight million stories in the naked city suburb. This has been one of them.”
“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”
In the video, Mr. Ward is well besuited as he outlines the latest speculation on Jong-un’s health from his bedroom… Wait what am I seeing? Computer: zoom in. Enhance lower left corner of screen…
Note to self: clean up your bedroom a bit before going onto national news.
Interestingly, so many people are confident of the precautions that they, themselves, are taking. – From those who are most cautions to those who are taking it lightly and the gradients in-between, most people seem self-assured that they’ve got it right and everyone else is a little off their rocker.
But in this pandemic, I see a dark foreshadowing of global warming. Global warming is more destructive but subtlier. And the degree to which it is acknowledged, it is aided by a sense of creeping normality. The changes are slow and diffused and the cause and effect are less obvious from an average human scale and perspective.
Some are hopeful that the Coronavirus pandemic will be a reawakening to the value of expertise and the ‘elite‘. With our current leadership trends, I’m less optimistic these days. I hope I’m wrong.
The song, ‘Wondering Where the Lions Are‘, usually strikes me as hopeful. Today, it strikes me as a warning.
Sun’s up, mm-hmm, looks okay The world survives into another day And I’m thinking ’bout eternity Some kinda ecstasy got a hold on me
I had another dream about lions at the door They weren’t half as frightening as they were before But I’m thinking ’bout eternity Some kinda ecstasy got a hold on me
Walls, windows, trees, waves coming through You be in me and I’ll be in you Together in eternity Some kinda ecstasy got a hold on me
Up among the firs where it smells so sweet Or down in the valley where the river used to be I got my mind on eternity Some kinda ecstasy got a hold on me
And I’m wondering where the lions are (wondering where the lions are) I’m wondering where the lions are (wondering where the lions are) I’m wondering where the lions are, uh-huh…
“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan “press on” has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.”
Ah! February 29th: the rarest of blog days. Kind of makes me wish I was born on February 29th, then I’d be four times as young.
Since September of last year (2019), I’ve been getting out, doing a lot of walking and hiking. And this last weekend, we did an overnight backpack trip. (I’ve done my share of backpacking, but it’s been a while and I was rusty and inefficient.)
Each month, I have had a workout goal measured in hours. I started slowly, in September with only a 10 hour goal. And each month since then, I’ve increased the goal by 5 hours. So, February’s goal was 30 hours. – March’s will be 35, April 40 and then it’s 40 for the foreseeable future. (Turtles all the way down.)
Since September, I’ve walked or hiked 266 miles. (That is to say: concerted, exercise, not incidental, boring old, everyday walking.)
What’s more: I’ve started a little resistance workout again.
All of this is a positive development and has helped me weather the gloom of late fall and winter.
As an aside: thinking about weathering the weather makes me think of this:
Who knows whether the wether will weather the weather.
I started to write an entry on the state of news and the world of politics but I felt the life force draining from my body, so I’ve shelved that. Let’s just say: it’s bad and we’re all doomed and leave it at that for now.
However, in a matter that somehow feels vaguely like a visual metaphor for the politics of our time, I share with you another type of rubbish.
– Filling my vehicle with gas one evening, I spotted this single, rubber glove draped over a trash can. This was simultaneously creepy and amusing to me. I wonder how much you’d have to pay the average person to pick up that glove with their bare hands…
“Oh, single rubber glove, discarded without care, what is thy story?’
Somehow, the single glove conjures even darker thoughts about what is in the tied plastic bag beneath it. Darkness and evil lies therein, surely…
And now, I’ve done my duty by sharing this meaningless piece of debris with the world. You’re welcome. Stay tuned for more exciting posts in the year to come! – What an auspicious way to kick-off a new decade!
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