Sunday, September 20, 2020

How to Stay Sane

I've started reading the food section of the Washington Post. And the advice columns. And the comics. And sports, of course. Anything but the front page. It's just. too. much. 

I have deleted Twitter and I am not missing starting my day stressed and angry. I don't think I'm being willfully uninformed (that would be Trump)--I just think I'm choosing to input very selectively and in small quantities. News overload is real, and I felt like I was reading stories and posts up to my eyeballs, and I'm not sure it was doing me any good so I've reversed course and now I spend a minute reading headlines, pick an article or two to actually read, and that's it. Maybe, MAYBE, the evening news. ALWAYS, ALWAYS the NYT mini crossword puzzle. 

I'm not feeling like it's been a bad decision for me. I'm not feeling like I don't know what's going on. I do. Generally. And that's all I need, for now. Because I know how I'm voting. Nothing I read is going to change that. I'm doing what I can  to feel like I'm not just sitting idly by as our democracy wastes away. I wear my mask if I leave the house. I've written voter encouragement postcards. I donate to campaigns. Watching Rachel Maddow doesn't seem like it's going to equip me with anything helpful right now. 

I get it. We are in full crisis mode. 2020 is a shit storm hurricane. But I really don't need to be in the eye of it everyday. 

So. Ordered a rowing machine. Have been baking cookies and trying new recipes. Taking walks when the air allows. Reading a few really great books. Practicing my Italian. 

Just trying to stay sane. It's a low bar, I know. But sanity is worth having, even if precariously. 

Monday, September 14, 2020

RandObs

The title is short for Random Observations because I've now done enough of this particular type of post that it seemed repetitive to me to just keep calling it that so I've coined a new term that I invite you to enjoy and employ. RandObs. I kinda like it.

Here we go.

I just read an article about a reggae singer whose nickname was Toots. And he was a guy. If I were a guy, I would definitely want my nickname to be Toots. So ironically cool. 

We all need to stop saying 2020 couldn't get any worse in the same way we all need to stop saying Trump couldn't get any worse. 

I have this new recipe for cookies and the recipe is actually designed for you to make the dough and freeze it in cookie balls and then bake it off--straight from the freezer to the oven, mind you-- when you want a cookie. Or three. Or five. Or maybe eight depending on what kind of day you're having. It. Is. The. Best.  Text me if you want the recipe. 

Last night I made a dinner that literally we ate every bite of--there was not even one single piece of meat or veg left over, and it's not like I didn't make enough.. It was just that good, if I do say so myself. Very satisfying to satisfy the table. 

I bought a pack of M&Ms yesterday (see previous post) and I am keeping them in my car console. If I want a few, I have to walk into the garage and get into my car, which is just far enough that I will likely forget they're there until I'm in the car ready to go somewhere so these M&Ms should last me at least a week. Although now Dave and Olivia know where the M&Ms are. So we'll see. 

I subscribe to a daily newsletter called Wake Up to Politics, and I realized this morning that I do not actually read it. Ever. Every morning I just delete it, because as it turns out I do not want to wake up to politics. 

I deleted Twitter two days ago and am all the happier for it.

If you have Instagram you should follow Jennifer Garner. She is genuinely, relentlessly both a positive person and a positive force in the world and I enjoy her posts oh so much. Truly. They make me smile. Her parents must be very proud of her. 

Yesterday Olivia sang part of a song from Chicago for us and wow. Just wow. That girl can sing. Also, Dave taught her to do that whistle where you put your fingers in your mouth and it's really loud, so she can sing AND she can whistle. The girl is going places. 

I love the relationship my kids have with each other. There's just nothing that brings me more happiness than their interactions with one another. Pure joy. 

Just a reminder that yes, 2020 is a bit of a shitshow but there's beauty out there. My cousin Paige reminded me that you have to look for it, sometimes really hard, but it's there. Go find it. 


Sunday, September 13, 2020

Market Research for the Win

Market research is no joke.

The people in charge ("the man"?) have figured me out. And I'm simultaneously impressed and embarrassed. 

A few weeks ago I was in line at the supermarket, and apparently the wait was on the longer side so much so that I started noticing the snacks that were readily available to me as I stood in line. They were very conveniently located so that I didn't even have to give a sheepish look to the person in line behind me as I darted to Aisle 5 to grab just one more thing... 

The tiny pack of parmesan crisp crackers caught my attention. I let my shoulder angels battle it out: "Perfect snack size!"    "Full fat--all cheese!"    "It's right there!"    "It's there to tempt you!"

The hungry angel won the war and I discovered that the snack-size pack of parmesan crisps is not, in fact, worth the calories. Lesson learned. But job well done marketing people. You got me to buy and try. 

Having evidently not learned my lesson, today in Target, as I waited in a longer-than-usual line, I started looking around. I should have just gone to Instagram and lurked. But no. I didn't do that. I glanced at the tabloids (Drew Barrymore is the happiest she's ever been!) and then 180'd to the impulse-purchase side. And well done, Target. Seriously. Peanuts (arguably good for you), chips (in the small, single-serving bags that are hard to find and easy to justify), breath mints (do they even have calories?), and candy. And this is where they got me. I made all the classic mistakes-- shopping before lunch, slightly hungry, and on a Sunday when the store had lines. I'm such an amateur. I literally have no chance of making it through this Target foray without something from this section. 

Hmmm. What might I consume that wouldn't ruin my lunch and could be considered not terrible (a low bar, I know, but I wasn't even trying for healthy--I know what battles to pick). I settled on Peanut M&Ms. Because peanuts (please refer back to "arguably good for you"). So 50% good for me. I can work with that number. 

These on-the-fly buys make me feel like I'm predictable. "The man" knows exactly what I might want and puts it right where I can't miss it. And I fall for it. Sometimes even when I'm not hungry (I'll just keep it in my purse in case I'm stuck in traffic--HA! that one sounded so much more justifiable when there was actual traffic and actual places to go). 

So I guess kudos to you, "the man". You clearly know what you're doing. If I might make one small suggestion--could you please add Hot Tamales to the impulse-purchase section? You'll get me every. single. time. 

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

pizza

I'm not a food Instagrammer (and really, in my humble opinion, no one should be--just eat your food for Christ's sake!). So you will never see the two perfect pizzas Dave and I made the other night. These were no ordinary pizzas. These were pizzas of the Italian gods. Homemade dough, double-proofed and stretched to perfection. Sauce from scratch with only five ingredients--San Marzano tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper. Toppings? Two. Fresh mozzarella balls torn into bite-size morsels and fresh whole basil leaves. Pizza Margherita--fired to perfection in a newly purchased pizza oven that we have not mastered, but I would say we definitely, on this last run, we at least triumphed. The pizzas were a golden brown around the edges with just a hint of char in a few spots, and the cheese was bubbly and beautiful. They were gorgeous, but more importantly they were delicious. Delicious like f you were served this in Italy you would be happy. Not to brag. But we nailed it. I'm moving to Italy to become a pizza maker. 

This glorious meal was not without some work though. Effortless is not a word that would come to mind. We were scrambling trying to keep the oven at a consistent temperature while making pizzas and getting them on to and off of the peels, into and out of the oven, turning them to bake evenly without putting out the fire and creating a smoke storm that probably had our neighbors wondering if we were okay... it was a frenetic repast. But it was fun. It was kind of an event, something to get excited about, to look forward to. 

And as we ate, in between groans of satisfaction, we talked about what we are going to do differently next time so that it might be a little less frenzied. 

It's a little bit of work making pizzas from scratch and cooking them in a pizza oven. There's preparation involved, and teamwork and timing. It doesn't just happen. But it feels like an accomplishment when you're done. And that's something. 

Monday, August 24, 2020

And yet there is hope.

I'm really struggling with this post. I want to write it, but I'm having trouble finding a way to begin with the tone I want to set. Which is one of hope. 

Forgive me. I'm going to get there. To hope. But first I think I have to acknowledge the despair that currently feels like it is swirling around us, threatening our existence. 

We are stumbling through a pandemic that feels unnecessarily difficult. The consequences of said pandemic are causing economic devastation and unfathomable death to families across the country, in cities and towns of red and blue alike. Our government feels like it is incapable of functioning and yet able to dismantle a nation through that dysfunction. There are double-hurricanes and apocalyptic wildfires. 

We are struggling mightily. 

And yet. 

There is hope. There is always hope. 

But reason to hope is often not as plainly evident as cause for despair. Despair assaults us and surrounds us and makes us feel powerless. It robs us of our senses and leaves us in the dark, unable to see clearly. 

We can't allow ourselves to fall to the pangs of darkness that stalk us. We need to open our eyes wider and let the light in, let the hope become visible. Focus on it.

We have to do this for ourselves. We have to do this for each other. 

Look around. The hope is there. Wrestle free of the chains of disappointment and allow yourself to feel the freedom of optimism. If you can't feel it, send out a search party--give it a real effort! Look around carefully. 

Hope is out there. All around. Patiently waiting for you to see.


Sunday, August 9, 2020

Brie and Figs

I just realized my last three posts were all laments on politics and pandemics, so I thought I'd give a go to writing about something more soothing. There's no point to be made here. Just me riffing on the afternoon.

I just took a short bike ride in 100 degree heat and then came home and jumped in the pool, which was beyond refreshing. I cannot explain why I would take a bike ride in 100 degree heat. It's not normal. I get it. But I wanted to move and get out of the house and weather-be-damned, move and get out I did. 

And here I am, sitting at my computer writing while enjoying a snack of Breakfast Brie and figs. Are you jealous? I know my readers (all six of you). I'm pretty sure most of you are not, in fact, jealous. But in defense of figs (because I am quite certain you're on board with the brie), might I ask, Have you tried them? They are delightful! They are subtly sweet and earthy and you can eat one in one bite or you can be civilized and cut them in half and enjoy them in two bites, thereby prolonging your enjoyment. Also, they're just beautiful when you cut into them. They look like plate decoration--they're that beautiful. If you have decided you don't like figs but have not tried a fig, I say the next time you run into one (I think you're probably safe for a bit) you give it a go. And if you can manage a small bite of brie with the fig, all the better. 

So feeling rather decadent with this whole swim/brie/fig thing happening. I mean, how's this any different than taking a brief dip in the Ligurian Sea and then sitting down on your chaise on the Sorrentine beach and having Christian the waiter/lifeguard bring you a cheese and fruit plate? 

My next move, in case you were wondering, is probably to pour myself a cold glass of white wine. You're a stickler for details and you're probably going to notice that I posted this around 3:45pm and yes, that's a wee bit early to have a drink and I just don't care. 

It's a hot day and I have brie and figs. I'm going to enjoy them to the fullest. 

Trump Bingo

 BINGO! I win! See if you can find how I got BINGO. And know that when I say I win, it really means we all lose.

Hillary’s emails resurface




Kayleigh McEnnany dresses appropriately

Trump suggest curing Covid with bleach (I mean, how likely is that?)

Yo! Semite!

Trump releases his taxes

Fauci gets death threats





Trump weighs in on middle-east tragedy, suggests terrorism with no evidence

Nikki Haley replaces Mike Pence in the VP slot

Arizona is declared a Covid success story

Florida is the only state declared to be vote-by-mail corruption free

Trump catches Covid

In midst of Covid, high joblessness and racial unrest, let’s remodel the Rose Garden!



    Free Space

Lindsey Graham loses ANOTHER round of golf to the guy extorting him

Joe Biden chooses Susan Rice as VP, ensuring that Trump has four more years

Trump claims Biden is against God



Deutsche Bank rolls on Trump to save its own ass

Trump puts together two complete sentences

Kodak makes a comeback

Trump learns how to correctly read a graph

Trump won’t leave the White House in the wake of defeat



Over half of Trump’s cabinet is Senate-confirmed

Trump claims the US is doing better than the world in Covid (??)

Melania comes to her senses

Mitch McConnell shelves Dem’s relief package for months, recesses Senate

Monday, August 3, 2020

Just pretty much ignore this post and go about your business

I have some issues I'd like to air and I bet you're on the edge of your seat waiting to hear about them. Because nothing screams originality like someone complaining on a Monday. So maybe consider skipping this post. It's really more for me than it is for you. 

I'm just going to get these out. I'm not really going to extrapolate them. I think I just may need to scream them out my front door at 4am but I am a good neighbor so not doing that. You're welcome Mark, Bobbi, Karen and Brad. You can, if you'd like, get up at 4am and imagine me doing it, though. Let me know if it brings you any relief. 

So here we go...

Wear. A. Mask. 
The USPS is not expendable, Republicans, for ANY reason. Speak the #&$*% up!
There is no silver bullet for this pandemic, America. I know you want one. It's not coming.
Vaccines will not be here by November like you're being told so Wear. A. Mask. 
The vaccine will not be an instant solution. Do you know this, America? You do know this, right?
Kids should not be in school. Period.
We have chosen bars and restaurants over education. 
Congress should not be allowed to go on recess with the current chaos. 
A third of Bangladesh is underwater and it's not even a major news story. A THIRD OF BANGLADESH!
Google's new YouTubeMusic app has some kinks that need to be worked out. Just saying. 
People, if you have a peach tree, pick your peaches for god's sake. Don't let them fall to the ground to rot.
Homemade molasses cookies are really good but probably better in the winter I think. My mistake. 
I love baseball but it's kind of a mess right now. 
I do not love Farhan Zaidi or his impact on the Giants. Wish Kapler had more free reign. I like him.

Phew. I think I'm done. Carry on. Go about your business. Nothing to see here. 

Saturday, August 1, 2020

MLB Baseball... brought to you by...

America's favorite pastime is now brought to you by Nike. And SpeeDee Oil Change and Auto Service. And Geico. And Franklin Templeton, Chevron and T Mobile. And Taco Bell. 

The list goes on and on and on. 

It's not that I think MLB shouldn't seek out advertisers. I'm not naive. I understand that's how they make their money. But how about seeking advertisers ONLY for actual commercial breaks? Old school. 
Stop the passive and aggressive in-game appearances and shout-outs. Because the unceasing assault of commercial sponsorships during the game is distracting from the game itself and, in my opinion, insulting to the fans who are tuning in to watch the action. In these challenging times (I can't believe I just typed that but it really does fit here), fans want to soak and marinate in the action, to cheer their favorite teams and players and be immersed in America's favorite pastime; we want to enjoy the game, not have to weed through the greed to get to the good stuff. 

For example, I don't think we need a sponsor for instant replay reviews. The fact that we have to interrupt the game to call NY is annoying enough. We don't need an announced benefactor for this to happen. 
Incidentally, I do not understand the Taco Bell "Baseball is Back" shout-out. Literally, Kuiper will say, in between batters, "Baseball is Back, sponsored by Taco Bell," and the Taco Bell logo will appear on the screen. That's it. No play to watch. No player to salute. Just "Baseball is Back". What? I mean really, what? I repeat, I do not understand. It's as if Taco Bell paid money to have an announcer just say their name. 

When the pitching coaches go to the mound to calm their pitchers, its sponsored and gets announced. Pitching changes have commercial backers. There are now corporate logos on the back of the mound. The "Play of the Game" is brought to you by... The on-deck circles no longer contain team logos but rather business sponsorships. Large swaths of empty seats in the stands, all strategically placed for maximum time on camera, are now covered with giant tarps trumpeting some company's name. Every. single. player. in MLB now has a Nike swoosh prominently displayed on the front of their jersey. 

It's too much. 
It feels like MLB is prostituting itself. Or maybe we are being prostituted by MLB. 

Fans can't go to the ballpark, and that's a huge disappointment for everyone involved, But please, MLB, at least let us watch the game without feeling like we need to take a shower afterward. 

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

On Travel and Traveling

This morning, I caught myself staring longingly at my suitcase, neatly tucked into the corner of our closet.

I miss travel. I miss traveling. Two different things. Both of which, as mentioned, I miss.

I dream of going back to Italy. I yearn to return (unintended) to Prague and further explore Stare Mesto. I want to go to Iceland and see the Northern Lights. I'd love to visit coastal Maine. That's the travel I miss.

But also, the actual traveling is part of the joy to me. I have a fondness for the Escape Lounge that we get to use at the airport when we travel on Norwegian Air. The furniture isn't that comfortable. The food is alright. The off-brand prosecco is phenomenal, though, because you're drinking it right before you're boarding an international flight. Anything you're drinking right before boarding an international flight is better than it might be otherwise.

Airports. I love airports. I also like checklists, and airports are just checklists. Got your ticket? Check. Wait in line for security. Check. Put your bag on the x-ray belt and walk through the sensors. Check. Find your gate. Check. Get a coffee. Check. People watch. Fun! Check! Mock the people who crowd the boarding area ten minutes early in anticipation of their group being called (not a single airline I can name rewards this behavior with even the remote possibility of a better seat--even on Southwest you have to line up in numerical order, so you get to go when it's your turn and not before--grab some pine, meat). Check! I can't explain it. I think for most people these are all potential frustrations, but for me they're part of the thrill of adventure.

Airline seats are not generally pleasant. Yet I enjoy flying. Short flights. Long-haul. I don't really care--the anticipation of exploration cancels out the discomfort of the journey for me. Plus, you know, free sodas and peanuts.

Getting from the airport to your hotel--this is just pure exhilaration for me. I love public transportation. Sure, Uber's convenient. Taxis are fine. But a metro? A subway? Trains? Yes please! With maps and instructions in a language I don't understand? Even better! So much fun! Correctly deciphering a map while in transit is just. the. best. Arriving at your hotel after successfully navigating your way from your flight to the tram to the correct train to getting off at the right stop and then wending your way through unfamiliar streets--euphoria!

Getting places is often as fun as whatever you're going to do once you get there. For me, at least.

I just miss it all. The getting there. The being there. The prosecco in the Escape Lounge.


Monday, July 27, 2020

Guess Who

Ok, America (or at least the six people who read my blog), it's time to play a fun little game I'm calling "Guess Who" (my creativity evidences itself in ways other than naming games, clearly). I'm having such fun writing haikus that I've written a haiku for various Trump administration officials and lackeys supporters and you have to guess who each one is. Extra points to you if you can name each person's actual job title. Also, so you can get a glimpse into my creative process, I am including liner notes for your enjoyment.

Let's begin.

I'm in charge of schools
Your kids are expendable
I'm an idiot

Liner notes: I considered the alternative third line of "Bears attack schools" but didn't want to repeat the word schools twice in one haiku, so I went with the more obvious.

Our second mystery-person haiku has two stanzas because there is just too much to say to try to fit into seventeen syllable, so I'm going with thirty-four.

I was against Trump
I once was respectable
Now I golf with him

I sure changed my tune
Is Trump extorting my ass?
Russian kompromat?

Liner notes: There were so many directions I could have taken with this one. I could have written several more stanzas. But I think you know who I'm talking about so I'll leave it at two.

On to mystery subject number three, who again warrants two stanzas:

I am not confirmed
I send troops into Portland
With no second thoughts

Fifth to hold the job
For seven months, not confirmed
This is illegal

Liner notes: I actually had to look up this person's name because there have been so many in this position under Trump that I lost track. Turns out he's been in office for 257 days.

Our next acolyte:

She has her own facts
She appears then disappears
Project Lincoln spouse

Liner notes: This one is so easy (mostly because there are so few women in the Trump administration). I regret that my absolute disgust with her doesn't quite come through as strongly as I feel it. She warrants extra stanzas, but I just so vehemently abhor her that she only gets one.

Next:

I do Trump's bidding
Bills are stacked up on my desk
They won't get a vote

Liner notes: I wanted to put something in about being a turtle. But I refrained.

A bit more of a challenge, this knucklehead gets three stanzas:

2024
I am setting up my run
Impressing Trump's base

I won't wear a mask
I am opening my state
As the death toll soars

No convention here
But the theme parks can open
I ignore science

Liner notes: A true idiot, I personally think this person represents naked ambition, plain and simple.

Onward:

666 Fifth Ave
Symbolic of who he is
In so many ways

In charge of it all
He's running the whole country
But unelected

A dangerous man
A true shadow president
Draftsman of failure

Liner notes: I was trying to choose words that would intimate evil. I was quite pleased with the term "draftsman"  because it sounds like "horseman" which I associate with the apocalypse. A wee glance into my thinking process there.

A most interesting figure:

First at DHS
Later became Chief of Staff
All honor was lost.

Liner notes: I really wanted to believe this man's military background gave him some honor and that he would be bound to do the right thing. Man, was I off on that one. 

And lastly:

I don't want this job
I really don't care, do you?
Chain migration queen

Liner notes: I was going for apathy here.

The word that sprang to my mind as I re-read these haikus is "henchman". So I looked up the definition of henchman, to see if I was on the right track, and here's what it said : a faithful follower or political supporter, especially one prepared to engage in crime or dishonest practices by way of service.

Nailed it. 

Friday, July 24, 2020

Baseball Is (sort of) Back, Baby!

You know, kind of.
But I'll take it any way it's delivered.

Pitchers can't spit on the ball? WHY were they ever allowed to do that anyway? Gross!
No chewing sunflower seeds and spitting the shells all over the dugout floor? See above.
No high fives? They all happily (often without any clear reason) pat each others' butts, so I don't think that'll be a problem.
Can't throw the ball around the infield after an out? Bummer. But ok. Not a biggie.
No dugout-clearing brawls after a smack-talking player gets hit square in the ribs for a second time? Good luck with that.

I just wanna see the game get played. So Thursday night was on my calendar. Giants v. Dodgers in LA. One of the biggest rivalries in baseball. Fun stuff. And it was! Mostly.

The game itself was a bit of a train wreck for the Giants (that sentence typed itself!). But it was great to root for batters and cheer good plays and watch Pablo chase down home plate to score, in all of his beer-truck out of control glory.

The baseball was fun to watch. Listening to ESPN call the game (and I use the term loosely when referencing ESPN's work) is torture. And I'm a Giants fan. I know what torture is. ESPN nails it.

The thing is, they don't really call the game. They just chat. About whatever baseball-related topic is on their minds. There is a game on the screen. Things are happening. But they only call the game when they happen to remember there's a game going on.

Additionally (there's my well-placed transition, thank-you English teachers), the ESPN announcers are national people--they aren't affiliated with any team or market. So they know nothing about the players in the game. Somewhere between John Miller (who knows FAR TOO MUCH about every player who has EVER played the game and isn't afraid to assault you with his knowledge) and the ESPN guys is a happy medium. Their names are Kruk and Kuip.

I don't think it's too much to ask that whoever calls the game (1) actually watches the game as it's going on and (2) knows something about the stats and background of the players in the game being called.

My answer to all of this is to not have ESPN be the only available option for games. There should always be a local market carrying the game with announcers who know the team. If I were the MLB commissioner, I would work to make that happen. Because NO ONE CAN GO TO GAMES! At least give us the enjoyment of hearing the game called as if we were there.

Come on, MLB. If you can arrange for players to be in a bubble, you can arrange local markets. Do it for the fans. We're here. It's only 60 games.

As Nike (now on ALL uniforms in a visible manner, which is a whole other blog coming your way soon) would say, Just Do It!









Tuesday, July 21, 2020

And Still More Random Observations (still in the midst of a pandemic)

I just learned that it's "mourning" dove, not "morning" dove. This now makes me sad. I seriously always thought that the beautiful cooing noises the gentle doves make were sort of a "good morning" sound. The light bulb has shattered.

If you drive through Jack in the Box and you order a diet Dr. Pepper and they give you a diet Coke, get back in the drive through and get thee what you ordered. Not ok, and especially not ok MORE THAN ONCE! Pull it together JITB!

If you watch The West Wing, keep your dictionary handy. That is some elevated writing.

Also, it's way more fun to actually look words up in a real dictionary than it is to look them up online. At least for me.

I know Bon Appétit is going through a (well-deserved) shake-up, but I have never seen an issue of a magazine with more white space than the August issue. I like it. It's just really different.

Also, while we're on Bon Appétit, I don't want sesame seeds in my peach cobbler.

Kites (the birds) make a very prehistoric noise. It's cool. And kinda scary. They may be planning an attack on our house.

Whoever told companies (I'm talking to you Allstate and TurboTax) that repeating a phrase ten times in a 30 second commercial was a good idea and that people would just love it should be tarred and feathered. Sweet Jesus that's annoying.

Yesterday, Steve Schmidt called Mitch McConnell's outfit "sartorial Chernobyl". I'm all about the language and that metaphor is brilliant. Well done, sir.

Stand firm, Liz Cheney! Now there are some words I never thought I would write, much less think, but I very much respect her defense of Dr. Fauci and I would like to see it continue. Matt Gaetz is a j-hole (I did expect to write and think that).

I love Karl. I do not really understand why the Bay Area fog is called Karl (something about a movie and a mythical giant character), but I love the idea. And I love Karl.

Baseball is back! Oh joy of joys! It turns out I do not care that no one is sitting in the stands. I just want to watch the game and be lulled into a serene sense of normalcy by the dulcet tones of Duane Kuiper and the endearing nerdiness of Mike Krukow.

Monday, July 13, 2020

Ode to Dr. Fauci

Just kidding. I actually had to look up what an ode technically was. I had a vague idea, and I was sort of right, but not writing an ode. Too intimidating.

I do think, however, that Dr. Fauci deserves some love. So haiku it is! Everyone loves a haiku. And I'm going with MULTIPLE haikus! I like Dr. Fauci, so this should be fun.

After the haikus, I move on to the second grade staple of writing Dr. Fauci's name down the side of the post and using the letters of his name to say great things about him. I think he deserves this classic form of appreciation.

Ok, here we go...

Poor Dr. Fauci
Under appreciated
Trump is just stupid (sorry, got off track there)

Our task force leader
Epidemiologist (hey! seven syllables--that worked out perfectly!)
Extraordinary (this is really just falling into place)

What is happening?
Why is Trump sidelining him?
Trump is just stupid (this is a common poet's technique, repeating a refrain, for emphasis)

Fauci speaks the truth
This is not so popular
With the uninformed

Thank you, kind doctor
For speaking truth to power
To stupid Donald (see what I did there? It's not an exact repeat, but the same idea, for emphasis)


Doing the right thing
Risking his own job
Frequently contradicting the president
Always trying to do so tactfully, but honestly
Understands the science behind contagious viruses
Can clearly explain why people should be wearing masks
Is an American treasure


Sunday, July 12, 2020

Navigation

Everyone has a compass. Not a literal compass. A compass in our mind, giving direction to our daily existence.
And we are each, individually, in charge of how we use our compasses. When and where we choose to point them to get our bearings. Whether we pay attention to what they tell us. We are in control of our own navigation.

My compass doesn't so much read NSEW. My cardinal directions are Optimism/Action/Education/Perspective. Betwixt those cardinal directions are any number of ordinals (I know there are really only four ordinals on a compass but this is my compass so I get to have as many as I want). Somewhere between Optimism and Perspective my compass occasionally points me toward PittyParty. Or sometimes Pessimism. Oftentimes Gratitude. It's directed me toward Support, also Frustration. More often than I'd like to admit it points to ScreamattheTVbecauseTrumpisanAss (I try not to go in that direction for long periods of time). And I will admit that my personal compass has, though very seldomly, pointed toward FuckThisShit (as in, this is too much!). But in its defense, it's also pointed me toward FuckThisShit (as in, hell no I'm not going to just let this happen I'm heading back toward Action!). Compasses have balance.

The thing is, I am the one holding my compass. I am the one who can slightly pivot and take a new reading. At any time. In any situation. I am the navigator, at the helm of my life. I cannot control certain aspects of what's happening in life, but I am fully and solely in a position to choose my own response.

And my ordinals are Optimism, Action, Education, and Perspective. It's on me to point myself in the right direction.

This Isn't Going as Great as You Think It Is

"I couldn't be more proud of our nation's response to the corona virus pandemic."
                                    --Vice-President Mike Pence, July 1

Really. Really? Really?!?!

Because there are any number of ways I could be more proud of our nation's response:

          --if Trump had bothered to consult epidemiologists upon hearing of the virus' initial emergence                          
          --if Trump had listened to medical experts at any point during this crisis
          --If the federal government had enacted federal safety guidelines to keep people safer
          --if masks had not been politicized and demeaned by Republican leadership
          --if protesters would have worn masks while fighting for their very worthy causes
          --if people would actually stay at home, following stay-at-home orders
          --if states would have actually met CDC re-opening guidelines before re-opening
          --if every.single.governor would have simply advised their populations to wear masks
          --if more Americans would at least pretend to care about vulnerable populations
          --if Kayleigh McEneny would stop wearing sundresses and dress more like CJ Cregg
          --if Trump would, just once, tell America that wearing a mask saves lives
          --if Congress would authorize recurring subsistence payments to out-of-work Americans
          --if young people would stop thinking they're invincible and start realizing they're carriers
          --if we let science dictate our health policy, instead of politics

I could go on. And on. I'm really not sure what Mike Pence is proud of. We are not winning battles. We are certainly not winning the war.

Essential and frontline workers,
healthcare workers, who are in a category all their own in terms of hero status,
the greatest generation,
everyone who is putting the safety of others first by following difficult guidelines,

deserve better.




Sunday, June 28, 2020

The Launch Party


There are a myriad of celebrations that we share with our family and friends. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Retirements. Marriages. Quinciñeras. Bar/Bat Mitzvahs. Births. Graduations.

All of the parties that accompany these many commemorations are, generally, thrown by family or friends for the person/people being fêted. Rarely do we throw our own bash.

I have a brand new shebang to add to the list. 
It's a Launch Party. As in you are launching your kid out into the adult world and celebrating your own newfound freedom.
Parents throw it for themselves.

This is no debutante ball. Because first of all, ick. Second of all, parading around in a large white gown does nothing to denote how ready you are for the world except to say that yes, you might indeed look good in a wedding dress. Double ick on the visual messaging, debutante people. 

No no. The Launch Party (patent pending) is a parental celebration, the basis of which is to tell your family and friends, "Hey! My kid is officially out of the house. I'm going to turn my kid's room into a home gym,  cut off the health insurance AND take 'em off our phone bill! We're going to save thousands and with this extra infusion of cash we are going to finally remodel our master bathroom!"

Or, you know, tailor it to your own specifications. 

You can register your Launch Party (patent pending) at Target or Bed Bath and Beyond or, if you're classy, Crate & Barrel. You ARE remodeling your bathroom, so what will you need? Some new towels? Some new sink accessories? Or maybe a sleek electronic scale or some yoga mats for your new home gym? The possibilities are endless, plus it's just super fun to walk around with that little barcode beeper creating your registry.

You deserve this!

I'm picturing possible themes for your Launch Party. Perhaps you go with the obvious rocket blasting in an upward trajectory. Positive. Encouraging. Nice.  If not a little lacking in cleverness.

Or maybe you go with a boat theme (because boats are launched, right?), and your boat is a yacht because yes, you are launching your kid but also you are launching yourself into a new life and why shouldn't that new life be represented by a 40 foot luxury marine investment? This is a good theme. It's confident. It says you're ready to begin something new and very expensive but you get to spend the money on YOU. Also the party decoration ideas are endless. Everyone gets to wear a captain's hat! You can afford all those hats just with the money you saved not paying your kids' Uber charges for a month (yes, you are cutting off their access to your Uber account).

I think it's long overdue that it be okay to throw yourself a party to celebrate a milestone event, and what's more milestone than not just your kids achieving independence, but you achieving independence? It's a double-whammy.

You spent decades throwing parties for others. A LOT of parties for others. Treat yourself to a little something for you. Pop the champagne, send out the Launch Party invites to family and friends, and be the envy of EVERYONE for making this bold move.


Dream Jobs

At one time I dreamed of being a Washington D.C. journalist. The host of Meet the Press perhaps. MSNBC's Road Warriors--those five intrepid bad-ass female reporters during the first Trump campaign--I wanted to be one of them.
I've also wanted, in more recent times, to be a travel blogger. Because travel. And writing. And food.
I'd like to host a cooking show. I wouldn't be good at it. I'd actually be really, really bad at it. But it would be fun. And it would be funny. And you would laugh and probably enjoy my stories about the food I'm making while simultaneously enjoying the idiot I'd be making out of myself on camera.
A book reviewer! Imagine being paid to read novels. And then tell people what you think. I mean COME ON! What's not dream-job about THAT?
I used to think I'd love being a movie reviewer, a la Siskel and Ebert. But that might just take the joy out of movies for me. I immensely enjoy the movie theatre experience. I love the big comfy seats. I enjoy the previews. A giant bucket of buttered popcorn is non-negotiable. I don't think I would really want to take a notepad with me. I also don't want to actively look for flaws in movies. I know they're there. You know they're there. But that's not what I want my focus to be. I just want to watch the movie, I guess. So I'll cross that one off the list.
One time I got to (because I asked!) collect the trash on a Southwest flight, so technically I guess I have been a flight attendant. It was pretty fun. I'll check that one off the list.
I've taken a few walking food tours and walking history tours in various cities, and I think I would have a lot of fun guiding those. Probably more so the walking history tours. I noticed on the food tours the guides don't actually eat most of the foods. I want to eat ALL of the foods. So yeah, I'll stick to guiding the historical walks and just continue to be a customer on the food walks.
I think being a bartender would be fun (for a few hours). I have a really, really (I mean REALLY) bad memory, so I would be really, really (I mean REALLY) bad at taking multiple drink orders, getting the drinks actually correct, and then delivering them to the actual people who ordered them. So bartending would be fun for me but probably not so fun for the people waiting for their drinks.
I'd like to be the counter help at a tiny little bakery where everything is made in-house. How great it would be to watch people pick out delicious pastries and breads and then send them off on their way to enjoy them? That would be a joyful job I think.
I'd love to try acting. It looks fun. And hard. Not sure I could memorize the lines. But it looks like a great challenge. Performing on Broadway would be just beyond amazing, right? Or performing Sorkin in any setting.
Just my random thoughts on jobs that sound intriguing. No greater point to be made. The end.

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Random Observations in the Midst of a Pandemic, Part....whatever

I have just realized that my kitchen is Nickelodeon green. I believe on Nickelodeon they call it slime green. ick

Cherries! So good! Even with that pesky pit!

This whole pandemic thing should put a permanent end to middle seats on airlines. Just take 'em out. A little breathing room, literally, please.

I think if software companies re-released kids' computer games from, say 1999-2006, a generation of young adults would go crazy reliving their childhood joys in the midst of a quarantine.

Almond milk is not milk. Vegan sushi is not sushi. Kale pesto is really not, I mean, just no.Why so many food identity crises? "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" is at least honest. And I think we can all believe it's not butter.

I could watch all seven seasons of The West Wing a million times over. Aaron Sorkin is a writing god.

I've never been more proud than when Olivia told me her roommate read aloud my latest tweet because she thought it was funny! So for your enjoyment, here it is:
"I'm just sitting here on various clothing websites that are having monster sales, ordering clothes that I don't need, to wear to places that I'm not going."

Has anyone seen Kellyanne Conway lately? Anyone else getting nervous?

Now is not the best time to start the revival of secret handshakes. Or handshakes of any kind.

Every morning I kind of want to walk out my front door and greet the day with a giant "Fuuuucccckkkk!!!" You know. Just to wake up. Is it just me?

Why did Sting write such a serious downer of a song to sing through the end credits of The Emperor's New Groove? I mean, Tom Jones clearly got the message of the movie with his opening number. Someone dropped the ball with Sting.

Why are there two L's in llama?

What if Twitter completely shut down for 24 hours to perform software maintenance? What would happen? Would Trump implode? Would millions of people feel lost and alone? I'd kinda like to know.

Was Alice in the middle of the Brady Bunch grid because she was really the glue that held the whole Brady gang together? (I mean, the whole family was pretty non-functional when Alice left to work at a diner for one episode.) Have we been overlooking Alice's relevance for decades?

Friday, May 8, 2020

So let me get this straight.....

Warning. Political rant ahead.

So let me get this straight. Trump and his cronies are making a serious attempt at getting the entirety of Obamacare struck down, including guarantees of insurance for people with pre-existing conditions, in the midst of the largest medical crisis in 100 years, with no viable plan to replace it. Do I have that right?

So let me get this straight. Forty-three of our fifty states are currently beginning to reopen even though not a single state has met the criteria, specifically number of deaths steadily decreasing for fourteen straight days, for reopening. Do I have that right?

So let me get this straight. Testing is going just fine. According to the White House Press Secretary, and I quote, "So the notion that everyone needs to be tested is just nonsensical." Our federal government thinks we are currently doing a great job with testing as the number of cases continues to rise. Do I have that right?

So let me get this straight. Trump went to a mask factory and appeared with a group of the company's top brass, and not a one of them was wearing a mask. Not Trump. Not the brass. Because all of them were tested before Trump arrived and none of them had Covid. So Trump deserves a working environment in which everyone has been tested so he is not exposed to Covid19, but Americans should go back to work, regardless of testing capacity and availability, and risk their lives. Do I have that right?

So let me get this straight. As the death toll climbs and the CDC predicts the numbers will get much worse, Trump decides to wind down the Coronavirus Task Force, but then changes his mind because, "...I had no idea how popular the task force is until actually yesterday when I started talking about winding down... It is appreciated by the public." So we still have a task force composed of the best epidemiological minds on the planet not because they are vital to finding a vaccine and essential in helping stop the spread, but because they are popular with the public. Do I have that right?

So let me get this straight. In the midst of a mind-blowingly terrible crisis, a time when all hands should be on deck to help guide us through the many twists and turns of everybody getting everything they need in a timely fashion, the Trump administration is taking the time to go to court to get the charges against Mike Flynn, a man who admitted under oath to his crimes, dropped. Do I have that right?

I feel like I could go on and on. And on. But I won't. The Trump administration is nothing if not blatant regarding which battles they are choosing and for whom they are fighting.

I'm horrified, but I think I've got things straight.

Rant over. Thank you for listening.