Year 2023 in reflection

 

From ‘22 – ‘23 didn’t seem like any eventful memory. It came and went with a few clothing changes, some unfinished chores and nothing extraordinary to remember.

Reflections on the past year…

Chinese balloon. The first news story that caught my attention was this UFO or unidentified anomalous phenomenon (UAP) that seemed to be floating over the continental United States. Were we being invaded? Was it a threat? Was it some advertising promotion? The consciences were a Chinese balloon that got loose in the trail winds. Were they spying? What does the homeland security do to keep the 48 states secure? The solution was to let it float over into the ocean and then get shot down and recovered. What did they find? Was it a won ton delivery? The focus turned to the latest war and all forgotten.

Taylor Swift/ Beyonce/ Britney Spears/ Dolly Parton/ Cher/ Madonna/ Olivia Rodrigo. The year of Taylor Swift and the swifties, followed by a string of women trying to catch the train. I didn’t buy any of their music and can’t sing a lick, but they put on good enough shows to make a ton of dough and so this is the year of the female singer.

Barbie/Oppenheimer movies. A pink movie about a doll and the foreboding of doom were this year’s blockbusters. No, I have not seen either. I didn’t even listen to the soundtrack.

The Beatles’ final song (again) ‘Now and Then’. The last two have dug up some old tapes and added a few tweaks for the ‘last’ song done by four guys from the 60’s. Not the best song ever recorded and you’d think these old geezers have enough scratch than to need another song on the billboard charts?

The Remainders of the Rolling Stones are on tour again next year to support ‘Hackney Diamonds’ sponsored by AARP. How much would you pay for a ticket to watch on a big screen 80-year old’s playing 60-year-old songs to great grandchildren?

Restaurants/ breweries come and go. The culinary news is about which old restaurant is going out of business being replaced by another restaurant trying to find a popular menu to feed the audience. I don’t cook but I’m also bored with others cooking for me. Must be a drinking town because there is a new brewery on every corner.

Tesla truck. Not in the market to buy a truck (like all my neighbors) but am following the tortured path of the transition from fossil fuel to electric vehicles. Some catching fire, some without drivers wrecking, some can’t get enough minerals to make battery chips. The Tesla truck looks different. It is more of a space design than the two-story SUVs roaming the streets now. More to come.

Book of the year? Song of the year? Movie of the year? TV show of the year? Sorry, no recommendations from me. Nothing creative caught my attention.

News becomes Entertainment (and sales) Content providers used to be trained journalist investigating interviews and facts to present relevant newsworthy content. Today, opinionated podcasts fill the airwaves to inform an unknowing public. Unfortunately, I’ve watch people find a website that supports their bias and rule out all other as ‘fake news’. This will show up in the political election.

 

Weather

Nice winter and spring, then H O T! then a mild fall into a wet winter. It wasn’t THAT hot, but listening to reports of the temperatures in Arizona, Texas, Florida made things seem hotter. Still only one person in the steady stream of cars on the roads so no changes in use of fossil fuel.

 

Yard

Broken tree. Started off the year with a neighbors’ tree splitting in an ice storm and falling into my front yard. Since the tree was in front of his house, but in that space between the sidewalk and the street (which is really city property), I called the city. A crew came out, cut up the branch and the tree and grown up the stump. No muss. No fuss. No cost to me. It did take out ½ of my dogwood tree, but the fence was fine.

Digging dogs. My other neighbor took down two fences and put up a new one. Seemed fine until his dogs decided to dig under the new fence and roam about in my yard. More to come next year.

New tools. A metal trimmer and a machete. Since most of my yard greenery is vines, I found a string trimmer with a circular saw blade instead of nylon, then I found a machete. A final round with my lawnmower and the yard was full of mulch. Another mow in the spring to mix in all the dried leaves and watch the yard grow again.

Trimmed. The new tools helped thinning out the front yard and a good raking of leaves into the street got prepared for next spring. The crape myrtles were cut down and the city took the trimmings away.

 

Clothing

Formal clothing and collared shirts have all been donated. Comfort is the rule of the day. Soft shoes, sweats and hoodies. A trio of short sleeve or long sleeve t-shirts are swapped out to wash when they start getting rank. When they get ratty, they are tossed and another trio pulled from the dresser. Threw away one pair of shorts only to find another dozen hidden.     

Delivery

Shoes, bike gloves, trimmer string, magnetic hooks, sweat pants, sweatshirt pull over, door knob, towel racks, trimmer, bath mat, leaf gloves, electrical plugs, toe nail clippers, cassettes and a mug.

Beats going out to a brick and mortar and not be able to find what you want. Compare prices and features before you add to cart.

 

House

Printer cleaned out (for tax printing). There was a clip-on lamp with a plastic cover that was always on. The cover became brittle and broke into my printer and jammed it up. I procrastinated for a year until taxes were due. I dug in with wires and toothpicks and shook it upside down until I could run the paper through and print the downloaded tax forms. Threw away the light and haven’t printed again. Maybe I’ll check again in February. Yes, I’m old school and snail mail my taxes (and utilities bills). I keep electronic (and paper) copies of all.

New computer. Had a sticky key on my laptop. Don’t think I spilled anything, but some days it would work and others…? I plugged in an extra keyboard as a workaround, but it kept bugging me. Took it down to a local computer shop and they were very efficient, so I bought another refurbished laptop computer from them. Now I had a much faster computer (M1 chip) and everything (software and operating system) was upgraded at no cost.

Sink hole. There has been a sink hole in front of the house by the curb ever since I moved in. It may have been a rat hole or a bunny home, but it has been there for 40+ years. I called the city. After a reminder, a crew came out to dig up the street and sidewalk, close the street, heavy machinery, and after a week leave a clean nice solution. Come spring will decide what to plant out there.

Internet upgrade. The power went out. When it came back on, I had no internet. After days of calling and being shifted from one support assistant to another, could not get any results. Finally, an installation inspector came out and replaced and upgraded my 14-year-old connection, at no charge.

Heat broke blower. When it started getting chilly, the furnace turned on and the house warmed to a toasty 67 degrees. Took my ride and when returning, the house had a chill. The furnace had stopped. The next day my Woodfin friends sent an HVAC guy who climbed under the house and found a frozen turn wheel on the blower. It would need to be replaced. I awaited a call when the part could be located and scheduled to be installed while adding another blanket on the bed. The next day, they found the part and by that afternoon the house was toasty again. It pays to be prime.

 

Transportation

Kickstand/ seat / new headlights. One of my ponies’ kickstands was becoming loose. I went through my screw stores and couldn’t find anything to tighten it, so I took it to my local two-wheel shop. They tinkered a bit and found a suitable resolution – at no charge. They also tightened my wobbly saddle. To repay the kindness, I bought 4-headlights to replace the ones that had stopped working. I don’t travel at night anymore, but it is always handy to be ready if needed. The strange thing was instead of using AAA batteries, these newfangled headlights had to be powered by USB power. Old dog, new tricks.

Pavement covering. My usual path through the neighborhood goes down two blocks of rough payment. Years of potholes, new plumbing installations and whatever else required to keep the autos rolling on the bumpy path. I’d learn how to get around the dangerous hole and bounce over the hills to make the ride adventurous. People started putting signs in their front yards protesting the condition of their street. A city crew came out and, in a few days, had the pavement as smooth as silk. Already there are street graffiti so more digging and patching on the way.

 

Food

Tummy Temple redesign. Suddenly there is an army of blue shirts roaming around the aisles with charts and instructors with no notification to the congregation. I missed the memo. The cheese was being moved, the spaghetti was moved, the frozen fish moved to the ice meat area. Someone had decided to refurbish the Tummy Temple.  I’d been through a few of these, but this was chaos. The cookies on aisle 8 were moved to aisle 12 and then moved back to aisle 6. I like to think of it as a ‘hide and seek’ game. What I’ve come to consume is in here somewhere, if I can just find it. The walls and the signage were being changed at night. The carts were installed with locks so they would not leave the parking lot. Security guards were placed at doorways, but shoplifting is rampant. The staff was as confused as the customers, so my daily ventures were always entertaining. Shelf heights were increase to require a ladder or a basketball player to reach the soup cans. Packaging was shrinking as prices rose. They did not accept my idea of a dollar-a-minute for a ride on the Zamboni. Even the sushi ninjas were moved out of the entrance. The per-pared chicken doesn’t taste any better, but it is difficult to eat a chicken and then feed the neighborhood birds. I don’t grow any editable in the yard so this is where the food is.

Eating. To prepare and consume food is a necessary but not enjoyed. I’ve tried many variations from steak to fish to chicken to Mexican, Thai, frozen and unfrozen, salads and sandwiches. Nothing is appealing to taste. Baked potatoes and hamburger seem to be my latest dinner desire, but that is becoming boring. One meal a day is enough and sometimes more than enough.

Going out to a fast-food or a fine dining restaurant has no appeal. I know what goes on in the kitchen.

 

Money

Bank online. I’d been using online banking just to check my deposits and withdrawals and balance. When the power went out and the internet got all wonky and then replaced, my connection to the bank didn’t work. A service call and some discussion and several reboots, the suggestion was to try another browser. BINGO! Isn’t technology wonderful?

Surprise check. Got a strange check in the mail. It was a refund from some medical organization. The description said I’d paid for services they did not provide. Rather than depositing it (I was a little weary of a scam possibility) I walked up to the bank and cashed it. Now my wallet is bulging with more cash than I’ll ever spend.

$20,000 goal + $5,000. My 2023 New Year’s resolution was to save a balance of $20,000. Why? No need to splurge on anything. No impending doom expenses on the horizon. Just having a few extra bucks in my wallet. I succeeded my goal and then some. Good way to end the year.

 

Health

Exhaustion. Took a nice leisurely trip down into the Fan to get my laptop repair. Stopped at the bank to make a deposit, then did the long Cary Town crawl. No stores enticed me with their boutique wears, but stopped at one of the bicycle shops to get my seat tightened. Rode down pass my old apartment to the place I thought was, but was under a different name. Presented my problem for them to inspect and rode home. A trip I’d done many times before going to school and work, but today was different. By the time I got back in my neighborhood I was panting and puffing. I stopped and had a drink of water. I was out of breath and my legs were wobbly. I pushed my pony up the hill and had to stop again. Would I make it home? I finally opened the gate, parked the pony, crawled up and sat down to refresh my mind and my body. I’m not young anymore. After a refurbished renewal, I ventured to my daily grocery run and made it home without too much incident. I have to pace myself at this age. I also learned that going downhill requires brakes and I’m not as flexible at turning left than I am right?

            Back. A few sticks picked up. A few leaves raked. A stretch here and a lift there. The next morning my back reminded me of my age. Walk softly in the morning and a daily 5-mile bike ride until all the kinks are worked out.

Constipation. The innards of the sack we walk around in is the engine that keeps us going. Not only do we carry that brain thing that we are supposed to use so we don’t walk into walls, but there are tubes that process the stuff we stuff in our mouth to give us the energy to move before we poop out the leftovers. All these pumps and values have been working at it for years, but after a while, things become more difficult to process. All the years of abusing our gut with junk food our compression system might need some help. The morning dump becomes much more aware as age makes us thankful for the trash removal. Due to lack of mobility, age gets us fat and have to pee more. Several friends announce their antique malady’s but I’ve not gone to check as long as the plumbing works.

Several other friends decided they had enough.

 

War

As if one was not enough, we change our focus to a new war. There are plenty other places on the globe where people are shooting and killing each other for a variety of reasons, but this is Israel. This country has always supported the Jews (you can figure out your own reason) and are more than happy to send military support against the Arabs (Muslims? Islam?). Does this go back to the Crusades?  What about those pesky Russkies? Did that war become a stalemate and we needed something more exciting? Why do we pay for wars just to enhance our military weaponry manufacturers but can’t establish any local gun restriction laws? I luckily still live in a place where bombs don’t fall and guns don’t shoot.

 

TJHS 56th Reunion

Over a half a century from graduation for a $50 dinner with a bunch of strangers to relive times we don’t remember. Steve kept losing his phone. A few bland conversations with name tags but unrecognizable faces. A room full of old survivors. Did get to play guitar to a lobby full of people who were there for another reunion and would have been questionable for our class. We’ll see if we can make the 60th in four years?

 

Birthday

LXXV. No cake or candles. A birthday present to myself of a Melodica (similar to the one I had back in the ‘70s). No silly hats or parties. Every day is the present for another adventure. Many don’t make it this far. No angles came by to carry me home…yet.

 

Holidays

No tree or lights. No wrapping presents. Apple pie for the local fire station. Treats for neighbors’ dogs and horses. 40^th anniversary of a Williamsburg wedding celebration. That’s about it.

 

New Year?

Ham, black-eyed peas, stewed tomatoes and corn bread. New toothbrush.

Headlines for 2024

Trump (doesn’t go away), Climate change, child-care, abortion, immigration, virus, health care cost, infrastructure, gun-control, jobs, union strikes, stocks, reparations, interest, lack of affordable housing, living wage, manufacturing logistics, bike paths, alternative intelligence, influencer, abandoned dog walking, student debt, war cost, hip-hop, TikTok videos, transgender, banned books, crispr, postal service, fake-news, cyber-invasion, opioids, suicides, dysfunctional government, political election, paint-on bathing suits, video games…stay tuned.

 

Shredder. Time to pull out the old folders of paper bills and divide over the years to last year. All the rest will be shredded and recycled. Cut off the staples and review the past cost. Plug in the plastic shredder and shove into the slot. A whirring grind and letter paper turns into mash. The last years folders are taken back into the files for future reference and the killer machine of paper is unplugged and placed back in the tool cabinet to be used next year. The digital file will be copied to another hard drive and backed up.

Memoir. What started years ago with a review of diaries kept in high school, then more memories from photos and references to starting from scratch and writing down everything I can remember about ‘Just Another Life’. Why? For posterity or just a fad? A written legacy only I remember. Like the post on the Internet and the sounds recorded on CD, it could all be unplugged and lost in time or wind up in a yard sale as a buried treasure for another generation. It keeps the mind active.

Taxes. I have paper records of taxes going back to 1970. I also have digital records that show every dollar I earned and all the taxes (state and federal and city property, but not sales). I check every year to see if the accountants will estimate my taxes (like they do for utilities) and just send a bill? There is still no online form that doesn’t have a cost, so I still download the forms and tables and check then double check each line and box and put my account number and await the deposit. I’m down to the simple form but there are still new questions that I have to look up. I sign my name, put a stamp on the envelope and hope it gets to New Mexico or New Hampshire or wherever they have a warehouse full of folks to tear open, check the numbers and process. When the return arrives, it is like an unexpected Christmas present.

Boredom. Gazing into the crystal ball, there doesn’t seem anything fascinating in the coming year. Resolutions? Scratch off the dusty to-do list carried over for another year? DIY or hire someone else to do it? Play some music? Do some painting? Continue writing? Do some drawing? Inspiration and motivation?

Welcome to the new year’s adventure.

December 25, 2023 Christmas Day

 

I got out of bed at 5AM. I’d been up earlier to walk to the loo and to post my ‘Christmas greeting’ on social media. Made a cup of coffee and a breakfast burrito with a swallow of orange juice and sat down before the screen to see if there was still life on this planet.

It was too early for the kiddies to post their selfies of wrapping paper and puppies. The sun was just breaking through the clouds. It was too early to start my mission, so back under the layers of blankets I dove for another snooze and weird dreams.

7:00AM and the sun was lightening the yard. A quick brushing and gargle, change of diapers and throw on some dark hoodie to turn out the lights and wander out into what is called ‘Christmas Day’.

I stop in the sunlight, as I always do, to listen to the yard before assembly of my daily plan. The days agenda seem to be falling in place with the silence of the neighborhood.

Slowly riding through familiar yet not so much recently parts of town, I pass a few neighbors walking their children or pets. A greeting of “Merry Christmas” brings a smile and a holiday response. This is the one day of the year when everyone, at least around here, is happy.

Tomorrow the lights will be deemed and the inflatables removed and people will fill their trash bins with colorful paper and ribbons, while the recycling bins are overstuffed with cardboard. Does Santa bring all that cardboard?

Ride down the main street with bike barriers made of sticks parking cars out into the right lane and avoiding the piles of leaves. Over the bridge and turn right.

The firetruck is out in the driveway so I approach slowly. A fireman comes out from the open bay door and welcomes me. I hand him a Ukrop’s apple pie with a white bow on it and say, “Merry Christmas”. We chat for a few minutes and he shakes my hand in appreciation of the unexpected gift.

Off to my next appointment, passing a family with a small child riding a tiny bike. “Merry Christmas” I say with a smile and laughter response. Was that Santa?

Another person wearing a Santa hat being walked by a dog looked up and smiled. “Merry Christmas” we retorted to each other with smiles. A jogger runs by intent on her time and pace. “Merry Christmas” I say breaking her concentration. She turns to me with a smile. “Merry Christmas” and off she runs. Maybe it is the jolly white bearded man in the red hoodie?

The convenient store that is open 365 days a year is the only place where beer can be purchased on Christmas Day. A pleasant exchange of dollars and conversation and I’m back to my attended destination. A mailbox.

Through the back streets quiet with household frolicking indoors tearing up paper and attempting to enjoy gifts they will never use. Without traffic, it is easy to drop off my four envelops with enough payments for a month pay.

Down the hill to the empty parking lots and back through the vacant streets. A bit further than my daily ride but without traffic a pleasure.

Once home, I spread out the seed, but have forgotten the peanuts. I apologize to my neighbors before retiring into Mansland and Christmas guitar music. On this day, I will avoid the news.

A dinner of sliced turkey with gravy over wild brown rice is more than filling, so the slices of bread are added to the outdoor buffet.

Now, as it gets dark, I’ll venture inside to unload the laundry with one more check of family pictures of a one-day birthday celebration.

Tomorrow is December 26, 2023. How will I greet the day? Will the day greet me?

International Law

 

In the news, with all the strife in the world, reports of indiscriminate bombing, torture, terrorism, murder and mayhem, the public cry for justice for these are international laws that are broken.

 

International law (also known as public international law and the law of nations) is the set of rules, norms, and standards generally recognized as binding between states. It establishes norms for states across a broad range of domains, including war and diplomacy, economic relations, and human rights. International law differs from state-based domestic legal systems in primarily, though not exclusively, applicable to states, rather than to individuals, and operates largely through consent, since there is no universally accepted authority to enforce it upon sovereign states. States may choose to not abide by international law, and even to breach a treaty but such violations, particularly of peremptory norms, can be met with disapproval by others and in some cases coercive action ranging from diplomatic and economic sanctions to war.

 

With origins tracing back to antiquity, states have a long history of negotiating interstate agreements. An initial framework was conceptualized by the Ancient Romans and this idea of jus gentium has been used by various academics to establish the modern concept of international law. The sources of international law include international custom (general state practice accepted as law), treaties, and general principles of law recognized by most national legal systems. Although international law may also be reflected in international comity—the practices adopted by states to maintain good relations and mutual recognition—such traditions are not legally binding. The relationship and interaction between a national legal system and international law is complex and variable. National law may become international law when treaties permit national jurisdiction to supranational tribunals such as the European Court of Human Rights or the International Criminal Court. Treaties such as the Geneva Conventions require national law to conform to treaty provisions. National laws or constitutions may also provide for the implementation or integration of international legal obligations into domestic law.

 

From days of yore, our species have proven to act in operant behavior to one another, so we declare ‘right’ from ‘wrong’ for preservation.  

 

We have even created mystical powers to command us not to do harmful things like killing each other. Check the Good Book.

 

Like most laws, we somewhat obey the idea until it becomes inconvenient. If you are caught, how are you punished?

 

     International adjudication takes the form of either arbitration by an ad hoc tribunal, or judicial settlement by an international court. Arbitral tribunals are convened by the agreement of the parties to address a specific dispute.

 

There is the local judge who may proceed over your speeding ticket or decide the punishment for some unlawful occurrence. It is his/her interpretation of what is written in the book.

 

For greater offenses, a jury of your peers maybe assembled to listen to the pleas for repentance against the crime. The verdict can be swayed by the opinion of the time and place, independent of the written word.

 

When a state law is broken, there is a higher court to make a judgment. When a federal law is broken, there is a supreme court to rule. When there is an international law broken…

 

The United Nations can vote for offense to stop but it must be agreed upon by all. They can send in blue helmet troops as peacekeepers, but without enough force to eliminate the disruptions. The World Court can apply sanctions or create tribunals, but the criminals must attend and face the consequences. Who is the International Police Force to arrest them?

 

The daily body count we hear on the news (there are more than that) breaks our hearts, especially during the celebration season of giving. Our fantasy creations and mystical tales give hope and gifts while we over consume, though others will receive funerals.

 

In a few days, the lights will come down, the inflatables will be stacked away in the garage, the mounds of colored paper in the landfill and the music stored away until next year. After over indulgence drinking and kissing your current main squeeze, we will wait for climate changes within our control but too difficult to adapt to.

 

Who writes the International Laws for common sense?

Video Games

 

I’ve been reading reports that video games make more money than the motion picture industry and the performance musical industry (except Taylor Swift) and the organized professional sports industry together.

Is that what everyone who is driving by with a phone in their hand doing? I thought people were scrolling or texting or checking out the latest video on Tik-Tok?

I’m not a gamer. I didn’t like board games or card games for someone would have to win and everyone else loses.

The first computer games I saw were not impressive. They were slow and dull and the graphics were terrible. The next versions were more violent. The graphics got better and more bloody.

The same thing was happening on television and the movies. Cowboys were now blowing holes in each other with blood splattered all over the sand. Kung fu fighting had begun to replace fisticuffs. Weapons went from the six shooters to laser blasters.

I stopped at the Oregon Trail and never turned back, though it seems many others became fascinated in virtually destroying and maiming. Computer speeds caught up with the pace and the graphics became more realistic.

Now an expanding industry of music, visuals, and stories are being used to entertain millions around the world. Through your cellphone anyone on the planet can connect with anyone else to battle out fantasy worlds and then text how much fun they were having.

When do you turn it off?

The excitement of murder on screen turns into the nightly news. Anger and frustration relieved by pushing a button can now be accomplished by pulling a trigger.

GAME OVER

Action Movies

 

Since there is YouTube and Facebook has added video clips, I’ve not had to go to any movie theater. Grab a bag of homemade popcorn, get a soda pop and sit back at home and watch performance entertainment without paying a dime.

Like so many kids, I was excited by the cowboys’ riding horses or police cars chasing the bandits. The shootouts were quick and neat just like the war reenactments. The good-looking stars would be a cowboy one week then a detective and then a WWII hero without a scratch.

Then the multi-plex widened the screen, increased the sound and gave the audience what they wanted. The acting violence of wrestling, roller derby and football were replaced by special effects.

Giant waves sank cruise liners, tall building caught on fire, tornadoes were more devastating than what Dorthy participated in. Buck Rogers could not have believed the Storm Troopers or gotten a ride on the Enterprise.

Even the cartoons came to life. Now good-looking young people wearing spandex could look shocked and angry in CGI. To fill the space between wonderment and bad dialogue, there were explosions. Everything blew up. Spectacular turned into performance art for plays and rock concerts and television commercials. 

 

Perhaps the video games have done this or we are so bored that only a flash, bam and fire can get our attention? Throw in a bunch of skin and you got our attention.

Now and again, I’ll check some old films on YouTube and am surprised at my reaction. What seemed harmless fun and excitement of the time, must have been brutal. How many horses died or were injured on those cowboy movies. The cavalry charges, even in real life, were carnage and the movies showed it all as the audience cheered. How many ‘cuts’ were made to drag off the carcasses? Did their names make the credits?

Is it age or I’ve seen it all before or you can’t shock me anymore, but I’m not interested in ‘Action’ films. Make believe fantasy of exploding cars or airplane crashes or graphic depictions of snuffing one another, has not been able to duplicate what is on the nightly news.

No need for an expensive film crew and set. Everyone has a camera now.

Filing For Divorce

 

Like so many things we do, you need a lawyer and a certificate or a legal declaration.

You can’t just hand back the ring or sweater and breakup after you’ve had a wedding in front of others a get a license to cohabit.

Some reasons for divorce are…

Infidelity (the extra-marital relationship), Communication (were you not talking before the vows?), Domestic abuse (no excuse for beating on partners), Incompatibility (the key didn’t fit the slot), Commitment (‘I do’ meant well maybe), Lack of compatibility ( don’t like those curtains?), Abandonment (where did they go?), Irretrievable breakdown (them just done to be crazy), Addiction (to whatever except marriage), Abuse (verbal or physical), Marriage expectations (what did you expect?), Loss of identity (you share a name and a tax form and everything else that comes with sharing), Growing Apart (sorry about that), Lack of equality (who is the breadwinner?), Lack of intimacy (too tired), Finances (who is the breadwinner?), Constant conflict (seek consulting) , Marrying too young (there is no age limit for lust), Health problems (we do tend to break), Money (again, who is the breadwinner?), Imprisonment (didn’t expect that?), Weight gain (what is on the dinner table?).

Whether the spur of the movement, fueled by emotions and substances, the two decide to become one and go through the process of getting a public official, religious clergy or a ship’s captain to ask a few questions and say a few words declaring you were now bonded.

Daily heights and habits form and you either get along or not. Children can seal the deal or become a burden and an expensive responsible.

You stick with it or one files for divorce (see above for possible excuses). An attorney can write up a legal form with the qualifications and requirements for the split and present it to the other partner. The arrangement is signed and agreed upon or it can be nasty and costly. A judge can decide after hearing both arguments.

There was always cohabitation as an alternative to marriage but you miss that ‘Mr. & Mrs.’ on your Christmas cards. Joint bank accounts can become complicated but prenuptial can state expectations from the beginning.

Without a divorce you can never view someone from across the room and say, “That’s my ex”. You can never meet their current partner with a sly smile of knowing of inappropriate secrets.

Sleeping in your gloves

 

Just beginning of the cold days. My usual ride to the Temple for substances and conversation and upon arriving home decided indoors was a bit cooler than it should be.

My usual check is the thermostat and if the display is not showing the AA batteries have run dry. 2- replacements and the furnace roars back to action under my feet.

Not today.

I go back outside to my little heater, after tinkering with the thermostat numbers. As a usual progressionist, I will wait until morning before calling the HVAC guys. How bad can it be?

I climb under my one thin blanket and curl up in a ball as the temperature keeps dropping. My hands are cold and I can’t seem to warm them up.

After a long night of tossing and turning, I call for help once the sun comes up. The blue truck arrives around 3PM and Philip finds there is a wheel on the blower locked up. He will have to order the part, so it will be another night of cold.

I like gloves. I have a drawer full of riding gloves (some with fingers, some without) and find a nice knit pair that will suffice. Thin enough to type on the keyboard.

I also open the ancient cedar truck for the $100 hand woven white blanket stored for such an emergency.

Long johns, socks, gloves and wool blanket and I’m set for sleeping in the refrigerator. No skull cap, but I’ve been here before.

Early morning call and the part is available and will be schedule to installation today. Quick ride to refresh bones and breath, when the phone chimes Philip is back with the replacement part.

Clip out the old one, plug in the new one and the heat arises.

I guess that is my Christmas present to myself? No, I did not leave a tip.

It’s All Too Much

 

Starting out to the season and not looking forward to it. Hid from Halloween and avoided being fed by everyone for Thanksgiving. Turkey sandwich was fine and enough.

The weather is getting cold enough for another layer and the sky is lacking light. The roadways are slick with wet leaves. The joggers are now wearing puffy coats. The metal mobile machines are being plugged in. The construction is done for the year. Neighbors seem to be retiring inside for seasonal movies and gluttony.

The excitement of daily news has now turned into a rut of talking heads announcing the latest breaking event but it is unverified and not sure of the source being vetted. This is just gossip.

The Tummy Temple is settling down. The blue shirts that were hired to make the shelves higher than anyone can reach have thinned out and now there are new faces learning how to cut open cardboard boxes and placing the goods on the shelves to be scanned by a manager with a handheld to enter into a database so the automatic check-out machines can recognize the price without knowing who you are (welcome regular customer who comes here every day and buys the same stuff). Katy says there will be a ‘grand’ opening in December. That statement could not be verified.

The goal now is to retire inside and do something musical. The outside chores are somewhat done but now it will be cold and rainy and cloudy and yucky.

There will still be the daily ride to replenish hydration and actually speak verbally to another human. Best to keep the limited exercise and communication skills going as long as possible.

Without television the avoidance of annoying commercials (especially political) is refreshing. Online news sites are still flooding the eyes with nonsense of candidates banter even before they are chosen by their party and voted upon by the mass public. Will you choose a (D) or an ®?

As age creeps up, it is all too much.

Should kids have phones in the classroom? Should there be security at the grocery store? How much will the tickets cost to see 80-year-olds strut the stage? What do you tell your grand about what their new love is looking for? Should you visit the doctor to get a timeline on your funeral? Which flavor of religion is worth dying for? Electric or fossil fueled? Paper or plastic?

Tomorrow is Monday. Trash Day!

These are the highlights of geezer hood. When will the big truck roll down the alley to empty my waste and take it somewhere else where I cannot smell it or see it piled up, allowing me the pleasure to spend another week refilling the rubber flip top containers with I could not completely consume or remove with a flush.

The thrill of the day is hearing the monster truck roaring down the block, stopping every couple of feet so two guys (still guys?) in Day-Glo vest roll the official allotted containers, flip up the top, pull a crank and the process of dumping is all automated.

There was a time when this process of picking up someone’s trash out of a cylinder of aluminum and lifting it into the back of a container compression truck was manual. The contents were in paper bags leaking of all sorts of smelly stuff that had to be physically handled by strong men in overalls and railroad gloves. No mask. No water-proof aprons. Rain or shine.

In days of old, these rituals of waste removal, security protection, firefighting and dozens of other manual jobs with little pay or respect were expected but seldom appreciated unless they did not appear. Before that the piles of trash were burnt and everyone was responsible for self-preservation. They didn’t know your battery could run out on your phone.

I’ve filled my containers with cut timbers in hopes that they will be emptied tomorrow for another filling. I’ll watch from the window when I hear them come by and say, “thank you” though they cannot hear me.

Immediate Gratification

 

With all the speed of technology, a click-of-a-button and we expect immediate gratification. When this doesn’t happen, we get frustrated.

No comparison to the days when one would have to get dressed in presentable public attire and travel to a brick-and-mortar building, find a parking spot, search through shelves of options, fill your cart and push it to a line and wait until your turn to have each item scanned, present coupons, have the items bagged and write a check before you can leave, pack your trunk and return to the starting point. Imagine dragging an uninterested spouse or a hyper child or two to make the venture more special.

Once home, you find you have forgotten an item or the size or color doesn’t look the same as it did in the store. Rinse and repeat.

No, we have grown use to immediate gratification. Scroll through endless selections, add to cart, give a credit card number and verify your purchase. We expect a cardboard box will appear on our front porch the next day.

I, like you, have become familiar with ordering online and expect prime customer service, including the constant emails tracking the delivery of your request and asking for a review of the service. The delivery truck normally comes through in the afternoon so I check my email to see the photo sent to me when delivered.

Looking back at my history I’ve ordered everything from underwear to tools to books and music. I’ve not returned anything, but I do my research before I click ‘OK’.

Everything seemed to working fine, until…

My recent birthday/Christmas items were ordered in October and seemed to arrive within a few days (as advertised), except for one. None of these items were urgent necessities, but I do appreciate an on-time delivery. It is like Christmas every day to find a package on your porch to open. Even though you know what is inside, it is always a happy process to cut open the box and put the cardboard in the recycling.

More expensive items I want to touch-test before I buy and check the delivery for quality before the truck leaves. I only use a credit card and then pay off the bill before placing another order.

What was wrong with this order? No truck drivers? Supply log jam? Ordering snafu? I can imagine robots and folks in orange jumpsuits with wi-fi radios and handheld scanners rushing about a massive warehouse somewhere in rural Virginia looking for order # 113-6675561-1044241.

 

The message now, when tracking the delivery, is ‘running late’? No ‘regrets for the delay’ or ‘offer any discounts’ have been made. Looking at my neighbors recycling bins, the delivery truck has been through with plenty of cardboard boxes.

We (I included) spend way too much time scrolling screens for something to entertain us. Shopping is a form of entertainment and gives our dopamine a rush.

The other day at the Tummy Temple there was panic at the check-out. Managers were scrambling to offer customer service to waiting lines. Since I’m never in a hurry, I can watch the circus knowing full well I’ll leave with my cart full and probably some hidden discounts due to the confusion. ‘Not enough people’ is the excuse for the blockage, but this is the time for reconstruction of the cathedral, so wait your turn.

What about Tinder or eHarmony or MatchY or the never-ending sites that promise ‘love’ with a click-of-a-mouse. Do you ‘add to cart’ and click ‘OK’ to deliver to your front porch? I don’t know because I don’t use them, but I have been shopping (in a department store or a bar). Both of these establishments expect us to pay some money and possibly leave happy. If this was pizza it would be cold by now.

If I take out a date to dinner and dancing and then late-night drinks under the moonlight, do I expect immediate gratification? As a teenage at the drive-in movie in the backseat with syruping drinks and sticky popcorn, do we want to watch the movie or get immediate gratification? It doesn’t always work out that way.

So, I wait.

 

 

And then finally

I checked the tracking and lo and behold, it said it was delivered yesterday. So, I checked the email and there were no announcements from Amazon with their little photo to show the package on my porch. I left a customer service message that if the package that was delivered, I was not notified. Then some detective work. Walk out front and view the yard for a misplaced bag or box. Maybe a neighbor got it? Maybe a porch pirate brazens enough to climb the fence and avoid the critter crewe that even makes the postman run by, confiscated the package?

I go out to rake leaves into the street before the rain to annoy my neighbors from parking in front of my house unless they have a monster truck and notice..

The mailbox. The lid was askew.

Sure enough, case solved. It was delivered by mail on a Sunday.

I’ll back off from ordering until after the holidays, due to traffic on the roads and anything that would annoy me.

Instead, I wait for my yearly venture to the Tummy Temple on Thanksgiving Day. Not for the shopping, but for the entertainment.