Anti-Mask Are You?

 Putting on a mask to keep yourself and others safe seems like the simplest thing in the world.  If this were an Ebola pandemic, everyone would be masking up because no one wants blood on their bodies, especially not their own blood.

But because we are talking about an airborne disease rather than a bloodborne one, we've got the lunatics complaining about mask mandates.  The lunatics just like to complain.  They "don't want no dang government interference" in their pathetic lives, and their lives are, indeed, pathetic if this mask thing happens to be their biggest issue.  I would gladly point out their bigger issues, and I might win an argument with an intelligent person, but never with a stupid one.

I happen to live in a city where mask mandates are in place, and I am glad about it.  What's not to be glad about?   I'm staying healthy.  I'm helping my neighbors stay healthy.  I haven't contracted COVID in a state that's rampant with it.  I live in the South, where intelligent decisions are rarely made by the populace.  Fortunately for me, I live in a city filled with intelligent people, and leaders.

As we enter year three of a nasty virus pandemic, a lot of the anti-vaxxers, anti-maskers are dropping dead.  I'd never wish death on anyone, but let's just say I'm a HUGE PROPONENT of natural selection.

I wish I knew what the real reason behind the anti-mask, anti-vax issues were.  Any thoughtful person would trust the science.  I can only surmise that these anti-mask, anti-vax people have terrible breath and that this is the reason for their reluctance to wear a mask.  Perhaps providing sample sized bottles of Listerine or Scope along with every mask would help.  Or a free roll of Lifesavers.  And if they don't get a vaccine, I imagine that they are deeply afraid of needles, not the vaccine itself.  These people are such ignorant babies.  Takes less than 5 seconds to get that vaccine, but they're willing to jeopardize everyone by not rolling up their sleeves because they don't like shots.  And let's, for a moment, talk about the esthetic value of wearing a mask.  Most people are not beautiful.  Covering up half their faces is a definite improvement, especially their teeth.

Well, my rant is done.  I'm going to go back to being a responsible citizen and giving the death stare to the maskless, unvaxxed every chance I get.

Republican Assholishness

So no GOP members, except Liz Cheney and her father, former V.P. Dick Cheney,  showed up in chambers to honor the Capitol Police and Metro Police officers who managed to successfully stave off an insurrection.  What Idiots these republicans be. Stupid.  Arrogant.  Insular and Full of Crap, these GOP morons think they are making a valid point by not participating in January 6th remembrances.  Oh, but they are. 

The people of the United States (including many republicans) are seeing these traitorous bastards for what they are.....power hungry, money hungry and not at all interested in representing anyone but their own selfish interests.  Estimated loss of votes:  2,500,000.

Claims to be the party of law and order but failed to recognize the heroism and incredible contributions, against all odds,  made by the very people sworn to protect them.    Estimated loss of votes:  750,000.

Failure to recognize that everything they do, including their obstructionism and cowardice in not speaking out against the big election lie, is working to disgust all decent and intelligent human beings.  Estimated loss of votes:  1,250,000.

I believe we will have another Democratic landslide victory come November.  Brought to you by the stinking filth known as the Republican Party.  

Whatever Donald the Blob is holding over these lawmakers heads must be really disgusting.  Here's hoping it finds it's way into the mainstream media.  

How the Omicron Variant Stole Christmas

 Here we are.  One week away from Christmas Eve.  Oh where or where has my holiday spirit gone?  Where is my goodwill toward men?  (That's always been in short supply.)  

I'm going out Christmas shopping today with a good friend from Baton Rouge.  I don't really need to buy anything, just coming along as a gift consultant and art purveyor.  

Perhaps because it's 75+ degrees in New Orleans, and the balmy days of summer still have not left us.  Perhaps it's because the constant disgust I feel for the obstructionism flowing out of Washington D.C. has mired my soul in hopelessness.  

It just doesn't feel like Christmas, and Christmas has a definite feel.  Year two of the pandemic coming to a close and we all feel a little low in spirit.  We've got the anti-vaxxers prolonging the mess.  We've got the false information and conspiracy theorists poisoning minds too young to have lived through any serious disasters, and too unschooled to recognize they're in one.  We've got the potential for sickness and possible death all around us.  

What can the antidote be?  

Christmas Wine.  Christmas Vodka.  Christmas Whiskey.  Christmas Edible Marijuana Cookies?  

Whatever the cure for my sadly lacking Christmas spirit is.....I need it.  I need it badly.  Recommendations welcome.

Thanksgiving and the Big Kick Off to the Holiday Season

 I'm probably going to be viewed as ungracious, but after Thanksgiving, I go into a slump.  I do not care for the Christmas Season.  It is no reason to be jolly, in my opinion.  I have a long and checkered unhappiness where Christmas is concerned that doesn't even merit discussion.  It just exists and I deal with it and try to make others not have to deal with it by pasting on my peaceful holiday resting non-bitch face.

But I am very thankful for a few things this year.  First of all, that no one I know has died of COVID.  That the people I know who got COVID did not die, despite not being vaccinated and that I am not as ridiculously ignorant as they are.  I am thankful for a new person in the White House to replace the fascist orange blob who sinks to new depths in the swampland of Florida.  I would be ever so thankful if the failed one term, twice impeached ex-president got eaten by an alligator on one of his slummy swamp golf courses; but that's almost like a Christmas wish, and I don't make those.

It has been a really rough couple of years for all of us.  A pandemic of epic proportions.  Disinformation that has added to the death toll.  People being shot dead in the street by a teenager whose mother drove him to a protest.  That same teenager being acquitted.  A cop committing murder as a crowd watched.  White supremacy raising it's ugly head in a Georgia suburb.  It has been horrendous.  Hurricanes, floods climate disasters, OH MY!   And the fact that so many Americans are incredibly stupid.  That just boggles the mind.  I think, before Donald Trump, stupid people kept a low profile, lest they be thought of as stupid.  But Trump brought new glory to Stupid, and all the stupids rose up and screamed at the top of their lungs, MY STUPID IS JUST AS GOOD AS YOUR SMARTS.  Sadly, they still believe this.  

I'm no genius, but I know when I'm being had.  I know the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, law and order.   So if I believed in the Christmas miracle and actually thought I could make a wish, I would wish for the strength to hold this country back from the rabbit hole it is heading toward unless we can educate these incredibly stupid, right wing, gun slinging fanatics.

 

Strange People I Have Known

 Funny where creative ideas come from.  Sometimes, I dream them.  Sometimes I imagine them.  But today, while making oatmeal cookies, I started to think about weird situations I have been in/heard about/lived through/been horrified by......the full monte of strange but true experiences only possible after having lived 50++ years.

In view of that, I've decided to periodically write about these situations, lest they be lost to history forever because of a) my death or b) my precious grasp of reality in a brain growing tired and old.

Let's call her Doreen.  I won't use real names, although it will be no stretch for the people who know this story to make the leap.  

Doreen was a wonderfully kind person, just like us; a single, struggling mom with two tots, just like us.  We were all bedraggled,  divorced people, borrowing five dollars from each other to make it to payday.  We'd watch each other's kids, cook a meal for each other, loan each other gas money to get to work, borrow tampons.

One day, in a wonderful moment of generosity when one of her clients tipped her well, she called and invited all the tots to go with her and her kids to see the Disney movie "Fantasia" at a local theatre, her treat.  What a glorious thing.  What a generous thing.  That was going to cost at least $25 and she was paying for it, taking charge of the kids, and giving the rest of us beat up souls a few hours respite from toddlers, chaos and noise.  To us, it all sounded like a little piece of private heaven and we happily waved our kids off.  Yes, we packed them off with home-popped popcorn bags, stale Halloween candy and pocket smuggled juice boxes.  But as any kid will tell you, not important where it came from, as long as it was there.

Sadly, in the first half hour of the show, Doreen realized she had misread the Marquee.  The movie was not Fantasia, but rather Phantasm, a bloody, stab, slash, demon horror of a movie.  It took her that long to realize there would be no singing flowers and butterflies above the screams emanating from the silver screen.  Trust me, those screams had nothing whatsoever on the screams of terror coming from our kids.  And then there was the movie house theatre, packed with teenagers screaming "GET THOSE GODDAMNED KIDS OUTTA HERE!".

All in all, not a good night for any of us.  In fact, some of those kids were still having night terrors well into adolescence.  

Alas, this is the plight of overworked, underpaid single women in our society.  A simple glance at a theatre marquee could lead to mass confusion, horrific terror and upset friends.  What can I say?  We've all been this distracted.  It's a miracle our kids made it to adulthood.  I look at my really comfortable life now and am so thankful for the hard work I put in (and my current husband).  I cannot honestly say I miss those days of hardship, worry and living on the edge of barely solvent.  But after a few months passed and the friends talked about the marquee mishap, I can't remember laughing so long or so hard at things, either.

The Dead Know Best

 Living in a coastal community has been both extraordinarily enlightening (how to survive a hurricane) to exceptionally frustrating (Steve Scalise and John Kennedy in Congress).  But perhaps the most incredible thing I have learned since living here is you Can't Teach a Sneetch.

For those of you who have just awoken from a coma, on August 29, 2021, New Orleans and Louisiana suffered a Category 4 Hurricane named Ida.  My family and a few neighbors thought we'd ride it out, since it was designated a Category 2, right up until the moment it roared on shore.  We are accustomed to Cat 2 hurricanes, they happen frequently here.  By the time the Hurricane Center changed it's mind and called it a Cat 4, there were hundreds of thousands of cars on the road, going nowhere.  In short, it was too late to evacuate.

Long story short - it was devastating for us, for New Orleans and especially for areas outside the levee district.  Frankly, when an area prone to hurricanes can't provide water or ice after a major weather event that has left the city powerless, you know you're living in the South.  Reconstruction continues one hundred fifty-six years after the Civil War, with the same carpet baggers now holding elected office.

But here's the really amazing thing I've learned.  Homes are destroyed for hundreds of miles.  Islands have lost half their land.  And yet, these stoic people say "we are going to rebuild" and they are treated like some kind of  national hero.  Call me ignorant, but why would anyone rebuild a house on stilts, on an island half gone and think this is smart or reasonable or courageous.  It's just stupid.

During this catastrophic event, the cemeteries in low country floated up their dead during the flooding and sent them inland with the storm surge.

Take a lesson, low landers, your dead ancestors want out.  What's wrong with you?  Move.  If ever the dead spoke, this is it.  Yet, "we will rebuild" is the resounding cry from a populace really to stubborn to think things through or figure out that rebuilding in the same place just invites more agony.

God Awful Noise

 We are living in a time of unprecedented noise.  Not the white noise of wind in the trees, or evening crickets, or waves crashing on the beach.  God awful noise that seeks to drive us to places unholy and assaults our precious capacity for listening.

My street is undergoing a major road project, new sewers, new water pipes, drilling pavement, concrete saws, house shaking heavy equipment movement, etc.  The house I live in, as is another one door down, is getting a new roof.  The house next door is having the aluminum siding torn off in screeching metal on metal cacophony, while a new fence gets hammered around it's perimeter.  The air compressor parked outside my kitchen window is almost as bad as the dork down the street who ran his generator 24/7 after Hurricane Ida.  

Ten months into the road project and two weeks into general house repair noise, I'm ready to check myself into the nearest sanitarium for some peace and quiet.  Here's what happens when we are constantly bombarded with loud sounds.

We lose our peacefulness very quickly.  We become agitated and restless.  Our nerves are frayed and we become less tolerant of people and their idiosyncrasies.  We long for quietude and solace and hope we can calm down enough to get some rest.  

I am adept at tuning things out.  Anyone who's raised two toddlers under three alone will tell you it's a natural trait to listen for the warning tone in the noise and ignore the babble.  I try to do this in daily life; ignore the traffic and the sirens, the shouts, the airplanes, the bastard fighter jets, etc.  But it's been ten months of near constant din and I'm about to lose it.

I am glad I can step out tomorrow night and hopefully hear some great music.  It does soothe the savage beast, and I, alas, am one.