Two Thousand and twenty-four in the year of Jesus our Lord and Savior Santa

 

To-Do

Turn the calendar page and with reflection look back to what you’ve done in the last 365 days. Did you accomplish anything special or just waste the time, space and air without causing a headline? Age does make certain things more relevant and others not as important. Still the toilet should have to be cleaned every now and then and the pile of dirty smelly laundry could take a spin in the washer. Time marches on.

Weather

If there was any snow in the winter, it came and went. There was just enough rain in the springtime and plenty of sunshine. The summer was hot. It was supposed to be hot, but when the daily reports of sizzling temperatures just made it feel hotter. All the weather reports talked about climate change, but I didn’t see fewer cars on the road or less plastics, so must adapt. The slow-moving body just moves slower and sleeping commando on a beach towel absorbs the vapor coming out of my body. The fans spin and we sweat (as the body was intended). Cold showers offer a brief reprise, but I was never a fan of air conditioning. When the temperatures drop, another layer provides enough warmth until the early months. The little space heater can contain a comfortable environment until it drops into the teens. From photos posted on social media, there have been a lot of red skies in the morning…and at night. Pretty, but signs of times to come? Time will tell how long these old bones can tolerate climate change?

Yard

A couple of trees in the front were not surviving so a professional came by, and for a price, cut them to the ground and hauled off the remains. This year will require for more thinning out of the forest, but it is like losing children you planted years ago. There is also a birch on my list to be removed for it is dropping limbs and it is too tall for me to take a whack at it. Did purchase a weed eater with a metal saw (instead of string) but have only used it a couple of times. For the most part, the yard just grows and provides shelter for the critters and shade for me. With some of the street work and the neighbor rebuilding a fence, some of the street urchins with pink tails started showing up. I chased them, but they started settling into the yard. I put out some ‘rid’ packages, but they just gobbled it up as another treat. They are not welcomed by the other furry neighbors, so a more powerful medicine was provided to free the yard of ‘pest’ so the others at the daily buffet can eat in peace. Though some of my tree monkeys are being gnarly by chewing on the house, they entertain me with their rolling and tumbling antics. Maybe I’ll hire a painter to do in a day what I’ve been putting off for years to hide bite marks. Raked once to clear the sidewalk of leaves and street cleaning seem to get most of them. The others are in piles of decomposer in the yard to be compost in the spring with the lawnmower. There are thoughts of getting one of those little chain saws on a pole, but not yet. Lost a few of the neighbors, but the J’s and Mr. & Mrs. C and of course, the tree monkeys keep me occupied as a diversion from the silver screen. The bunnies are reclusive this year, but my Bike Buddy wren is acting as a Yard Boss, keeping everyone in order. There are still last year chores, like stump removal, that will carry over to a new year of procrastination. I provide feed for they will be here long after I’m gone for this is their home. No matter the construction or destruction, these creatures adapt as they have evolved.

Clothing

Not invited to charity dinners or formal dances, fashion has been reduced to comfort and practicality. With a social structure that will wear pajamas to an outing; sweatshirts, shorts and jeans are all that fill the closet. There are more than enough t-shirts to fill the rest of my time on this planet, but for the increasing heat, there are a few that are built for ventilation. Woolen socks have been sitting quietly in the drawer due to the area avoiding the frozen tundra. The boots are gathering dust. The heavy coats sit upstairs in bags unused in years. Clothing, at this point in the adventure, will be worn until holes and tears appear to transfer stylist fashion into cleaning rags replaced by another in a storage bin.

House

The ‘new’ steps secure the walk to the yard and the mailbox without pondering if there would be a crack and lay this old body on the ground. Other than that, the power and steam that keeps this abode functioning seems to keep working. The kitchen light needs to be replaced, along with the outside lights…but procrastination provides time, like the vacuum of dust bunnies older than most people I know. I buy all the tools and machines that promise to make everything sparkling, but… They say, “Cleanness is next to Godliness” so there is no vacant chair in Heaven for me.

After my neighbor decided to trim the area between the street and the sidewalk, I noticed a leak at my water meter. A call to the city and a promise it would be taken care of. Even the neighbors noticed I was creating a lake in the front of my house. A wait as my utility bill increased and finally got an email to someone up the chain of command that got a response. A city crew came by, evaluated the situation, dug a hole in the street and after the heavy-duty machinery left and the street was open again to traffic, the leak stopped. The plus was the accountants evaluated the difference between previous bills and gave me a credit for the overcharge. 

The city sent a notice about checking for lead pipes, but the water meter fix may have already solved that. The construction on the speed bump finished after two attempts and the new neighbors don’t seem to have additional expansions to their mega-mansions so the noise has stopped (except for the occasion yarn maintenance workers with knapsack leaf blowers).

The future request for the Handyman is to patch a window of water damage that has existed for the past decade or so and I’ve not attempted to repair it. Sometimes it is better to hire someone else to come by and finish a ‘to-do’ that don’t get ‘to-done’. Hopefully there is enough money in the bank for any unexpected catastrophe in the future.

Money

Seems, I can pay all the bills and provide myself with enough substance to survive another year without breaking the bank. With the rising prices at the Tummy Temple, the basic solution is to cut back on the number of meals to consume during a 24-hour period. No real interest in snacks, but have started eating popcorn because it is all fiber and I can share it with the yard crewe.

As the property assessments continue to rise (with the constant expansion constructions of the neighbors and the overpriced sales), so does the property tax. Talked to the homeowner’s insurance agent about the increase in premiums, but understand with the policy payouts from wildfires and natural ‘climate change’ disaster the insurance companies are trying to cope. My only question is will $100,000 policy on rebuilding a structure on this plot in this neighborhood be enough?

With the help of a friend on transportation, went to the Verizon store to confront them with my cellphone bill that could not be understood online or phone and saved $50 a month. Of course, while outside my usual travel range, was provided a taxi to the local guitar store that is still opened to purchase another guitar as a reward. Rationalizes all the savings. Saved $15,000 so that was a good goal. Could even afford Amazon prime.

Health

The year started off with a cold. Nothing really bad, just under the weather. Think I got it from a gathering of friends with one sneezing and coughing. Started feeling bloated and not as regular as I should be, so started taking laxatives. Seems to be working, but have not convinced myself to visit the doctor for a check-up. Trying to make a steady diet of less food, but have formed a nice jellyroll. Still, the elastic pants fit. Exercise maintains a slow ride every day for hydration, but the pace does not help the increased effort. I hear the aches and pains of my friends and venture I have the same without diagnosis. Then, there are more that at this age are disappearing. Should dust off my ‘to-do’ to get new googles for my blurry blues.

Travel/Transportation

The daily 5-mile trip to the Tummy Temple and back is about as far as I go. I don’t explore the neighborhood or wander as much as I used to, for age is proving riding two wheels is more of a challenge. Still, I cannot rationalize purchasing a metal mobile machine to use for a few minutes and then park in front the rest of the day leaking oil or plugged in. I can rationalize forcing myself to climb in the saddle every day for exercise and to get the inner fluids moving. For the year, the cost of transportation was $40 due to two flat tires. I did get chauffeured around a couple of times and it is like being in a movie. It is faster strapped to a comfy seat and watching how the rest of the world travels. Highways make me nervous but so far, the drivers have been able to deliver me unscathed. Perhaps I should take another look at an e-bike when I take my pony in for a spring check-up?

Conversation/ Entertainment

“Brain-Rot”. The word for the year, but it fits. With no BIG screen TV providing a multitude of channels I won’t watch and video turning to streaming, YouTube has become my entertainment media (and it is FREE). I can watch the electoral debates live and listen to my constant companion of NPR for intelligent opinions. I try to avoid as many advertisements and cookies, but they are omnipresent. Logging onto sites has become much more complicated to prove we are not hackers or Ai imitating avatar presenting to another computer that you are not a robot.

Politics and War seems to be the constant ‘news’ stories, plus who celebrity is dating or dying. Short clip videos have taken over social media. Everything and everyone are caught on camera phones and shared to the world. Disasters, crimes, wrecks and most disturbing killings (yes, these are real video recordings of someone being killed. They are not actors in an Action Movie, but real dead-as-a-doornail killings for the viewers delight). The viewer has to determine what went on before someone started recording the last seconds of life for posterity. News at eleven.

This has been the lady’s world in sports and entertainment. Also noticed so many talking heads are now women. Am I listening to the ‘View’ or are they just guys in drag (they call that ‘trans’ now). Voted, but got 4-more years of Trump speak instead of a woman. No way to avoid it. With fewer physical interactions with human beings, speaking to oneself is the best intellectual conversation without conflict or objection.

For entertainment, I listen to music. I seek out new music recommended by others, but haven’t made it past a stanza before losing interest. There are plenty of old remakes and achieves to hold my attention. A few clever covers, but these are for half-a-century-old song. Stopped attending live music unless I know the players or can get back stage. Haven’t bought (or downloaded) any music in don’t know when. Still have three stereo systems to wire and plug in. Have posted some of my favorite finds on my YouTube channels. The other entertainment has been the Blogs. It is a mind provoking journal of thoughts that pop up and I post for the world to read (it’s FREE. No subscription required). In the heat of the summer, I wrote my ‘Memoria’. Just stuff I remember growing up that turned into 600+ pages. If this is my legacy, is for others to decide to make my obituary. Haven’t been a graphically inspired, but have a few tunes rattling around. I post some originals (or covers) on two websites, but haven’t recorded my ‘to-do’ list of CDs. Purchased some more tools (toys) to play the tunes just because I could. The other musical/technology I’ve used is recording conversations. A few lunches with some survivors telling their stories and take their words into the recording studio. I’ve not seen any television or movies or read any publications promoted as a ‘must’ by social media. Have I missed anything?

Shopping

Going to a brick-and-mortar store has relinquished to opening a window on the computer and scrolling to view the options never available before to purchase by credit card and have delivered to the front door. This past year I bought some underwear, bike handlebar grips, shoes, caps for stairs, hoodies, a microwave and a guitar amplifier. Not for much want for material goods, it is easy to search Amazon and come away with an empty cart. I don’t use coupons or search for deals, but I do check websites on a regular schedule to see what new innovations are available for the weak of mind.

Food

One must devour protein, fiber, magnesium, fat and the like of the periodic table to provide the energy to keep this shell we live in moving. Along with rising prices, there is ‘shrinkation’. Those oversize bags of potato chips air are now come back to the size of the 50’s. Already mentioned the mini-size cans of the soda, but it has spread to the canned vegetables. The price is the same but the can is the size of a shot glass. Probably holding a spoonful of beans or corn?

The Tummy Temple gives me an array of options, but now I tend toward the easy eats. With half of the frozen food section full of pizza, it is an easy bake for crunchy nutriments. This summer I was fed by Ukrops’ pre-pared package baked spaghetti. Meats seem to make me sick, so I avoid the butcher counter. The produce seems to rot, so I buy prepared salads to balance the starch. There is no desire to eat-out or have delivered, but some day it may be a necessity. Smaller portions are filling and the desire for cooking only comes on holidays. Cooking for one is just a taste of an ingredient to flavor the tongue and be done. Paper plates have become easier than a sink full of dirty dishes.

My Tummy Temple peeps (Keith, Hillary, Debbie, Kandi, Katy, etc.) recognize my existence under my shades and black mask and acknowledge my constant appearance to inform the scanner that I buy the same thing every day, so must move along. Nothing to see here. Do I go there every day for the peanuts to feed the yard or hydration? Half of my budget is hydration. Everyone needs a hobby.

Dreams

I enjoy the dreams now. Most are still problem solving. Some are old work unresolved conflicts that will go with me to my grave. Some are just adventures in somewhat familiar properties with no solution. Some have characters I knew and some are complete strangers. Some are stressful and some are ego boosting. Most are in greyscale with a few spot colors. I don’t eat in dreams so I have no smell or taste, but I do have skin touch recognition. Sleep does not come easy with constant naps and walks down the hall waiting for the sun to rise. Rem sleep is about 4AM when the dreams come. Some wake me up with a shock. Some just exhaust me so I remove the covers and change subjects by having coffee.

End of Year

What will tomorrow bring? Another year of conflicts and murders and disappearing friends? Another year of enjoying peace and quiet rocking on the porch as the neighbors walk by viewing through the bars. Will this be the year of less hydration? Will this be the year of ‘to-doing’ what needs to be ‘to-done’? Will this be the year to wire the speakers? Will this be the year to withdraw from the social media due to boredom? As the temperatures drop, it will be time to gather all the last year’s billings and shred them while gathering up the numbers on a spreadsheet and downloading tax forms to print and mail for refunds. Got my ham steak, black-eyed peas, okra, stewed tomatoes and Virginia spoonbread, so I’m ready. There will be champagne, but no lips to press at midnight. Ends off the year with Uncle Jimmy dying at 100 and naming a baby hippo.

 

Survivors for the Holidays

 

Time marches on. The globe still spins and the sun is tucked under the clouds. Two couples walk their dog and roll their baby down the street and all is quiet.

There are so many tales and rumors about this one day at the end of our calendar. Whether your belief is in some fable of an unwed teenage giving birth in a barn or some obese fella who lives in the coldest environment as a recluse but then on this one day invades houses and leaves gifts we don’t want. There is music played only this time of year and warm feelings of philanthropy soon forgotten. Was that hobo sleeping in the bumper car at the Tummy Temple or was he dead? I didn’t stop to check a pulse.

There are even tales of battles stopping on this one day so armies of like species can join together in a drink and conversation and perhaps a game of football before being ordered to go back and use our latest technology to show how we can shred the human body. Want a woodworking hobby? Build caskets.

Slept through the night. Sees that extra 6-pack helped pass me out. Did my usual run to Station #18 for a secret Santa gift of an apple pie and placed a bag full of doggie treats, apples (for the barn ponies) and a bottle of champagne on the neighbor’s fence and retired to the thoughts of the seasons.

There are nostalgic moments for December 25 is just another day, but… It is a special day when EVERYTHING is closed. There is little traffic for everyone is staying home celebrating their holiday with not working, but plenty of gorging and slouching down gallons of alcohol for good cheer trying to get along with people you only see once a year. Sit around the big screen to watch other people run about and then watch it again and again with instant replay on multiple platforms while listening to the blaring tunes so familiar at this time of year. Where are the surf tunes?

This is the time of year when your junk room or sewing room or art studio turns into a ‘guest’ room for the sleepovers. Usually, relatives who are to cheap to rent a room at a nearby hotel, dirty up your sheets and towels, eat all your food, and Uncle Ben drinks the bottle of bourbon you were saving for your annual fishing trip with your war buddies. Your children have grown up and left home, but they have decided to procreate and bring the little rug rats to run around, make noise, spread germs and knock over the candelabra handed down for generations and will now go into the trash along with all the torn wrapping papers and ribbons.

Along with the chaos and drama and merriment of the holiday, there are memories. Every year there are fewer who can attend the Christmas feast, but we will remember the empty chairs. It may be that the distance is too long to travel or a loose of interest in that part of the family. Maybe a flight delay or a broken axle will cause a deletion from the invitation list?

As the calendar’s numbers increase, the number of people you have known through the ages dwindle. There is only one Christmas card snail mailed each year now. He continues to use the antique process to wish seasonal wishes (and promote his latest painting). Postings on social media with memes someone else created seem so meaningless, but time marches on.

Since I have no one to shop for (or shop with), today is Wednesday. The trash and recycle removal came two days ago and the Tummy Temple is closed. There are enough options for food but not really hungry. Cooking for one only creates dirty dishes and too many leftovers. My only Christmas present (to myself) was another guitar amplifier, like I need another. It’s a tool (or toy) with the latest gizmos and effects built in the 2024 technology and it didn’t cost much. I don’t need another pair of socks or a tie clip or a funky message t-shirt, so I give myself something that will give me a smile.

A hawk came by and gave me some feathers for a unexpecting present. The usual yard monkeys are keeping me entertained while they search for the rain of peanuts. Even Al, my old buddy owl from years ago, came by for a visit, but not all survived the holidays.

It seems Rocky won’t be joining us the Christmas dinner. A Petie didn’t make it through a roll and tumble. There may be others who come and go through the neighborhood we share. I can only bury the carcasses I see while Mother Nature takes care of the rest. For the rest, we have old black and white photos or digital selfies to bring us nostalgia of times gone by.

Tomorrow will be December 26. The world will go back to distress and anger and frustration and hatred enough to kill one another in so many techniques that are too numerous to report here.

Try to remember the feelings from this day and maybe, just maybe, carry it over into say a special day in July?

What would you give Santa?

 

‘Tis the season that we await the Santa to slid down our chimney and bring us gifts and toys for all good little girls and boys. There is nothing more exciting to wait at the top of the stairs until your parents check out the tree to make sure Santa came and got away clean with a nibble of the cookies and milk you prepared the night before. The bell rings and we rush downstairs in our jammies to rip paper and open boxes to find our socks and underwear and perhaps an exciting jigsaw puzzle.

Thanks Santa. Didn’t you get my letter request?

Still after all the anticipation and decorating the tree and singing the same songs from last year, there must be something more?

One must appreciate the one person who works one day a year. From what we hear, he can travel faster than the speed of light (although NORAD says they are tracking him and his sleigh which gives us relief against incoming missiles), he can deliver more presents in one night than Amazon can in a full year. How does he do that? Who ate your cookies?

On this day of greed, we smile and celebrate getting something for free (like it or not) and are expected to reciprocate to others. ‘Tis the season for giving (or getting)?

Those who are responsible for having guest and family over to the house for Christmas are obliged to have a gift ready to give. Aside from the chore of decorating and putting away your soiled underwear under the bed and light candles to cover the scent of your dog and providing massive amounts of food at inflated prices, you must figure out some item that will fit your budget to surprise the guest with wonder and appreciation.

Uncle Henry is easy with a pint of Jack. Aunt Mary might have a favorite like chicken so a ceramic item could make her day. For the rug rats, give them candy until you forget Little Timmy has an allergy to peanuts and spend the afternoon in the ER.

‘Tis the season when we feel the joy (and expense) of dropping some coins in the red bucket and hand out gift cards to people you see everyday at the Tummy Temple or drug store or those who remove your trash every week (essential workers) but don’t know their names. This is why retailers and marketers flood the airwaves with special one-time offers to feed on this giving emotion. Do you still drive passes the tents under the bridge and look the other way?

What about the Jolly Elf in the red coat who brings us all this commercial joy?

Who is this Santa dude? Why would he want to work all year in the coldest place on earth with a bunch of midgets constructing gifts for strangers? Jesus didn’t do that.

From what we have been told, he is a fat old guy with a long white beard. There is a Mrs. Santa, but we don’t have the details. He wears a red suit fringed with white fur (probably polar bear) but it is unknown what he wears when he gets home to relax.

How would you select a gift for the greatest gifter? He obviously must be sitting on an oil well or a gold mine for he doesn’t seem to need any money. He must have a good logistics system to keep all those elves busy and warehouses full of materials and wrapping paper. There must be good wages and plenty of housing and medical for the little fellas.

And what about the reindeer? I’d assume they only eat the best and have dry, warm places to rest and have their hooves trimmed and coats brushed by saucy female helpers who wind up on Christmas calendars. Have no idea who trains the reindeer to fly or where they workout to stay fit for this one big night’s adventure. Do they have GPR built in?

Back to the point.

What would you give Santa to repay him for all the years of wonder he brought to you and your family and friends? He seems to be a guy who doesn’t need anything, but…

He smokes a pipe. What kind of tobacco does he prefer? He seems like a cherry blend guy but he might prefer a Cavendish?

Does he have a favorite drink to come home after his long Christmas venture to relax with a shot? Does he curl up on the sofa with a cold brew and cheer on the game or slowly sip some fine Kentucky bourbon to warm from the cold? Maybe he enjoys a special concoction mixed up by Mrs. Santa for all the elves to share?

A gift card would be as worthless as one given to the postal deliver that will be missing next week. A donation to a charitable organization under the name of Santa might give a chuckle.

Think if this guy ran for politics? He would give the Pope a run for the money. Who doesn’t love Santa?

Although he is as made up as the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Jesus, the end of the year is a time to gather with no other reason than to act like children in silly sweaters, consuming more than our body can expand and share tales that doesn’t involve politics.

Santa has already delivered my gift for being a good boy. Won’t plug it in until Wednesday but it was better than a lump of coal.

At an age when there are no children under the tree in the wonderment of the magic dream of Christmas, I can reflect on years of giving gifts everyday and Santa didn’t help out.

I still enjoy giving ‘gift’ packages to folks from my archives that I hope they will appreciate and use, but it also helps me downsize. I feed the yard crew everyday, but on Christmas they will get a special treat.

My only goal on December 25, when the entire world is closed, is to ride down to my local fire department and give them an apple pie. It is a surprise gift that they can serve for dessert from a stranger than more and more each year looks like Santa.

Ho Ho Ho!

Remember Pam Demick?

 

She came around a couple of years ago and made quite a fuss. No one knew where she came from, though some pointed to China. She took the world by storm and overpowered many across the globe. She took their breath away.

So many others say they were touched by Pam while having a Corona. She loved crowds.

Even the president noticed Pam with a daily press conference to talk about her and with little information, suggested we all stay home. If we had to go out to, say being ‘essential’ like police, nurses or the janitorial staff, wear a surgical mask and gloves and stay 6’ apart.

While the bodies were piling up, the government was giving away FREE shots in hopes that it would work and everyone could go back to normal.

They say Pam is still around, but our interest faded. The mask came off, the festivals restarted, offices reopened but everyone was used to working at home in their pj’s. No one told us to, but we got bored being inside all day.

Years from now, the history books will report the day that Pam Demick arrived and changed the world. Other than the toilet paper aisle emptied and there was no traffic on the road, I  didn’t notice any difference from my daily retired day.

 I still wear a mask at the Tummy Temple so the security cameras don’t know who I am.

Anticipation of Inauguration

 

I was born under the reign of Truman. He’d delivered the A-Bomb to end the World War three years before I arrived. I was born in the beginning of the Cold War but also the bloom of baby boomers. There were electrical appliances, televisions, monster movies, automobiles and single-family homes called the suburbs.

Ike, the famous general who oversaw D-Day, followed ( for General Doug was too controversial when he wanted to start WWIII and was fired by the haberdasher to fade away) and started the highway system so all the cars could use cheap gasoline and travel through the states to promote tourism and easily move the military.

He was followed by JFK who seemed like a young good-looking speaker who convinced the republic as a Catholic he was better than a vice president who looked bad on black and white television.

My parents didn’t talk about politics and the local newspaper was concerned about liberal civil rights taking over Dixie and commies. None of my friends talked about politics so we just went merrily on our way until the president got his head blown off in Texas.

On the way back to Washington, the vice president, LBJ, got sworn in next to the bloodied widow. After a few days out of school watching the parade of a caisson carrying a flag draped box followed by a riderless horse to the constant thump, thump, thump drum beat, we moved onto the Beatles.  

LBJ decided he didn’t want the problems of the Vietnam War (Truman had already gotten us into the Korean war to fight the commies, who were our allies in WWII, but had a more authoritarian agenda after their Bolshevik revolution and when dividing up the spoils of war, wanted a bigger piece of the pie) with Ike using the same goal of defeating the commies in Vietnam, which he handed to JFK, but he also had to worry about Cuba so he decided not to run for the next election. That was in 1968. That was my first voting experience.

I voted for Humphrey because I thought he could further the War on Poverty and Civil Rights agenda LBJ was pushing through congress; but he lost to Nixon who learned how to shave.

In 72, Nixon got reelected though I think my vote went to McGovern or John Hospers (Libertarian) received one electoral vote from a faithless elector in Virginia?

After tricky Dicky couldn’t find a way out and resigned, Jerry Ford pardoned him from his transgressions but will be remembered for his bad golf game, fumbling upstairs and getting shot at by Charlie Manson’s girlfriend. He lost the next election to a peanut farmer from Georgia.

Carter got wrapped up in an oil embargo while trying to find a peace process for Israel and Egypt, but the American Embassy in Iran was invaded with all personnel held hostage.

An actor came on the stage and was elected in 1980. Regan was a good speaker and greeted the hostages back from Iran. He tried to get rid of the commies in south America, but that didn’t work well either. His wife wanted a war on drugs, but elected officials don’t do well at fighting wars. By now I’d settled into a polling station of my ole elementary school two blocks away, though I may not have voted for the winner.

Ronnie got reelected in ‘84 but the democrats’ Mondale was a wuss (a problem that befalls them). Regan brought down the Berlin wall as the Soviet Union fell apart. Getting wounded in an assignation attempt just endeared him to the population as Ronnie lost his mind.

 After his two terms, his oil baron vice president was elected over another weak democrat. Bush, the elder, continued the conservative agenda and enjoyed the Gulf War, but regrated not finishing off Hussain. He’d leave it for his son.

A strong democrat huckster from Tennessee came along and got the attention of America with a campaign of promise and Fleetwood Mac. Clinton showed the youth factor and was a good speaker and seemed to get along with everyone. He had enough energy to get reelected but ran into problems with an intern and lost all credibility.

At the turn of the century, HW’s son, George W was elected over Clinton’s vice president by hanging chads. Then 9/11.

As the country collected in horror of being attacked, the president had to become more than a cowboy to commander in chief. Invade other lands trying to wipe out the evil from ‘terrorist ideology’ that would convince someone to strap a bomb vest on and blow up whoever was around. Can we pay for it? Don’t worry about debt, we’ve got caves in mountains to bomb.

By 2008, the country was ready for a change. A black man from Hawaii (yes, that is a state) came along with the campaign of hope and America turned a page. A young man named Obama with a vice president Biden, who had worked congress the way LBJ did for Kennedy, was overwhelmingly elected over weak republicans. He tried to set up a universal health system but the congress wasn’t so quick to spend more money. After two terms, he turned the democratic party values to the wife of a former adultery president and it did not go well.

On the scene came a real estate mogul and another television actor with no political experience, but with a forceful threatening message won the hearts of the misguided and set about renovating the people’s house to his grandiose taste. For four years, the news was filled with Trump’s actions to the joy of some and the horror of others. Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic happened and he didn’t know what to do. He assigned his vice president to inform the public of the plague, but he kept stepping in throwing politics and accusations before the well-being of the public. The daily reports with the charts and graphs and the log lady and Yoda, only wasted air time. “Wear a mask”. “Stand 6’ apart”. “Don’t worry we have plenty of ventilators”.

The next election in 2020 did not go so well for him, so he complained and people listened, to the point when his vice president with the fly on his head was to officiate the transfer of power, his MEGA band attacked and invaded the halls of Congress.

The next four years were Clinton’s vice president Joe (now rightly elected president after some ague) trying to repair foreign trade agreements. Inflation was high but there were more jobs and the stock market grew. In the background, the constant complaining by the former president kept the social media busy.

I’ve watch several of these inauguration procedures on black and white television. Many old white folk get bundled up (because it is cold outside in January on the Congress steps) and quietly wait for some old preacher or judge reach out a book (could be the holy scripture or the Sear’s cataloged) to take the oath and swear before all that are present and before whatever mystical religious spirit that following the words said through the ages that he (so far) will abide to the ancient constitution and the laws of the land and proceed to take the office of the leader of the free world with the purpose of providing safety for all the nation and a promise to further the prosperity of all people who live here.

In most of these procedures the previous president attends to give a hand shake and past the torch to the new administration. This transition passes the atomic codes and the keys to the White House.

Following in the swearing in to the oath of office, everyone sits back to enjoy a parade. Every state in the union is represented by a marching band or military unit (no tanks) but no floats or balloons like Macy’s. After all these proud Americans walk by, the ‘new’ president and his entourage of hanger-on’s and security personnel climb into armored limos to drive to the White House to the frozen cheers and flag waving watchers who have been waiting to see someone wave at them. It is free to stand on the sidewalk and wait in the cold.

There is a formal dance at the end of the day, but most television has moved onto the nightly roundup of sitcoms and commercials.

From what I remembered, the presidential transition was the promise of a new idealism and a hope for better days to come. The ‘new’ CEO of the United States of America has to settle down in the Ovel Office with a new staff of folks who will advise and provide current data to help make positive decisions. We will all stand when he walks in the room.

Yet this election has been so controversial and the citizens of this nation are so polarized fired by religious fervor and constant media productions of violence and death on screen. There is anticipation for the inauguration and what follows, but I have no control over the future.

As the podcasters speculate what tomorrow holds, I will settle back and watch the show and hope to live long enough for all of this mess to be over. One step at a time.

Civility

 

Civility is the act of showing regard for others by being polite, like the civility you showed in speaking kindly to someone who has hurt your feelings. Civility comes from the Latin word Civilis, meaning "relating to public life, befitting a citizen," in other words, being friendly and nice to everyone.

Civics is the study of the rights and responsibilities of citizens in a society. It includes the study of civil law, civil code, and government, with a focus on the role of citizens in the government's operation and oversight.

Civics is often taught in K–12 schools as part of the social studies curriculum. It's typically based on political science and law, and is closely related to other academic subjects, especially U.S. history.

Decorum

Decorum is proper and polite behavior. If you let out a big belch at a fancy dinner party, you're not showing much decorum. This noun is from Latin decōrus "proper, becoming, handsome," from décor "beauty, grace," which is also the source of English décor

Politeness

Politeness is the practical application of good manners or etiquette so as not to offend others and to put them at ease. It is a culturally defined phenomenon, and therefore what is considered polite in one culture can sometimes be quite rude or simply eccentric in another cultural context.

While the goal of politeness is to refrain from behaving in an offensive way so as not to offend others, and to make all people feel relaxed and comfortable with one another, these culturally defined standards at times may be broken within the context of personal boundaries – this is known as positive politeness.

Respect

Treating someone with respect means: • showing regard for their abilities and worth • valuing their feelings and their views, even if you don't necessarily agree with them • accepting them on an equal basis and giving them the same consideration, you would expect for yourself. Respect begins with oneself.

I am of an age when the lights went down in the theatre people remained silent and still to watch the performance. If not, they were escorted out by an usher with a flashlight. Then the audience started to talk, throw things and move around destroying the experience for me. I don’t attend the grand halls for big screen entertainment due to the audience.

If there was a dispute with a retailer over a price or customer service, a quiet request was made to talk to the manager and come to a concordant without a discord disturbing other. I hear people start raising their voices and turn the other way to avoid anyone who feels privileged enough to be a Karen.

I see videos of people throwing things at fast food establishments for the minimal complaint or tourist creating a fuss enough to hauled away by the authorities or the highway cut off that turns into a shooting.

It seems, to these old eyes, that whatever was taught in school or church or home about civility is ancient history. I certainly don’t know all the ‘new’ cultural whims and ways or rules of the game, so I’ll just try and use the ‘Golden Rule’.

I know when it is late and people get all liquored up, people may react with uncommon violence to no meaning, but the reactions of those around is worrisome.