Holy what the f-ck is going on with the world, Batman?
Right?
I sit down this morning to take inventory of my notes—scraps of paper, niggling somethings lingering on a synapse, a random iPhone note, a stray calendar reminder…and I realize my “school of thought” is the cerebral equivalent of the aftermath of a natural disaster.
I‘m feeling something that I imagine is akin to an out-of-body-experience in a parallel universe of some sort. Or something like that.
Luckily, the nature of a Thursday post is somewhat random, which helps me tremendously. I have a serious case of scrambled brain with all the bad world shit going down, but there’s also a lot of good stuff mixed in there too. I’ll sort it out as best I can as I go. Plus I can’t write and drink coffee so at some point my need for morning caffeine will overtake my willingness to proofread and refine and for that I apologize in advance. (I’ve said it before and I say it again…if I want to get better at writing, I need to make more time to write and I also need to write more.)
The first half of this past week was great. As I mentioned the last time we were together, I was on my way to Michigan with my mom to see my sis and her family and to catch my nieces playing soccer together for the first time ever. The Groves Falcons went 1-0-1 while we were in town, and it’s fair to say that a great (!!!) time was had by all. We came home Saturday afternoon, detoured by the Lynwood for pizza on the way home, and spent Sunday outside in the yard with friends, drinking, eating, putting, and watching hoops. It was a fantastic weekend. Fast forward a few days to some, er, political madness, a day in the office, and well, it’s clear that things have taken a bit of a turn. But that’s the way of the world…it keeps spinning, more reliable than clockwork, and we who inhabit it are thrown curveballs, hit speedbumps, get spike strips thrown in our paths, are caught in unexpected torrential downpours, etc. etc. etc. And then we dry out in the sun as if none of it ever happened.
Until it happens again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
So, yeah, life once again reveals itself to be a mysterious and unpredictable amalgamation of stuff…things glorious and gritty…soaring and sinking…awesome and awful…yin and yang, good and bad…all about the balance, and blah, BLAH, BLAH.
Breathe.
Jesus.
I mean, the headline of this post is “Contagion: youthful energy and happy vibes” after all. And at this point all I’ve done is wind myself up and feel my shoulders approach my ears. So I coach myself: “Breathe…and remember why you chose the headline.”
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
OK. I’m better now. Kind of.
Anyhow:
On the contagiousness of youthful energy and happy vibes. Yes. Let’s talk about that. Last week I talked about going to my nephew’s last local track meet and about the trip to Michigan.
Like the track meet, the trip to MI not only did not disappoint, it was made up of many once-in-a-lifetime moments, I was fully present in each, and I experienced plenty of sheer joy.
Same as with the track meet, I was struck (deeply moved, really) by how invigorating and energizing it is to be around young people—they have such great energy, hopeful perspective. They are at exciting points in their lives, doing all kinds of amazing and fun things. Yes there’s stress and pressure but there’s way more hope and possibility than anything else. So I come away from the interactions with my nieces and nephews and their significant others and friends and there’s a fullness-almost-to-the-point-of-bursting in my heart, my cheeks sore from smiling, my belly hurts from laughing, and my eyes are damp from tears that are alternately happy and wistful (and sometimes both simultaneously; it’s rare during these moments that I don’t feel the acute pain of missing my dad or feel the extreme joy at seeing him preserved in the faces and mannerisms and personalities of the next generation, and he’s extra on my mind as the 81st anniversary of his birth is Saturday #forever73).
Speaking of my dad, he didn’t like cats. And I only mention that because cat food commercials make me gag. I just saw one and my stomach inverted. So. Gross. Nothing worse than a close up of wet cats food. Well except seeing it and smelling it but that’s a whole other level of disgusting.
Speaking of gagging, let’s talk about the Met Gala. What the actual f-ck even is it? I consider myself fairly intelligent, but I simply don’t get it. To me it’s a showcase of everything that is wrong with the world. The opulence and the waste and the over-the-top-ness of it all. I can’t even…
Speaking of the Met Gala, I did hear a pretty funny after-event interview with Martha Stewart about the Pete Davidson-Kim Kardashian coupling. She said that Pete is “a very different kettle of fish than Kanye” and went on to call him skinny and kind of homely but also very dear. Keep in mind that Martha hangs out with Snoop though. 😉
Speaking of something being wrong with the world…which calling it that may be the understatement of the millennium…how about that leaked SCOTUS draft decision? There are several pieces of distress related to this. A) It was leaked. How does a draft SCOTUS decision get leaked? Seriously what kind of shitty-ass security allows that to happen in the highest court IN THE F-CKING LAND? Who runs the security show there? Paul Blart, Mall Cop? Oh and if the justices are pissed off that this breach violates their privacy maybe they should sit quietly with that notion for a while and think about what their draft decision does relative to other people’s privacy. Irony? Hypocrisy? Ironisy? Hypocrony? B) What it said. “The inescapable conclusion is that a right to abortion is not deeply rooted in the Nation’s history and traditions,” Alito writes. I thought this Supreme Court stuff was rooted in the f-cking Constitution and not history and tradition. History and tradition is great when it comes to leaving cookies out for Santa and carrots for the reindeer but not for what does or doesn’t go on in my uterus. Jesus. C) What it means. History and tradition is now the measuring stick? That’s like passing on a ruler and just walking it out, eyeballing it. It’s approximation and subjective, qualitative…Because there’s really no need to be exact or consistent, right? Silly me thinking that history and tradition is why we do things like have first dances at weddings and baby showers for pregnant women and not how we rule the country. They are doing a shitty job attempting to disguise systemic oppression and suppression and racism and sexism and homophobia and xenophobia and all the other -ions, -isms, and -ias. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK‽ Yes, I’m yelling. I’m really heated. Because what comes next? What other rights will they strip and what other bullshit will they protect?
Speaking of SCOTUS and how those last few Republicans snuck in, I have three words for you. Susan. F-cking. Collins. I don’t want to wish ill on her but if I hear she has trouble sleeping for the rest of her life that won’t make me feel bad. At all. “If this leaked draft opinion is the final decision and this reporting is accurate, it would be completely inconsistent with what Justice subject cable. Gorsuch and Justice Kavanaugh said in their hearings and in our meetings in my office,” she said. “Obviously, we won't know each Justice's decision and reasoning until the Supreme Court officially announces its opinion in this case.” Asked by CNN if she was misled by Kavanaugh, Collins said: “My statement speaks for itself.” (Hey Susan. Why don’t you move to Alaska with Lisa Murkowski and buy yourselves some ice?)
It terrifies me when I see so many young women ecstatic about the possibility of Roe v Wade going by the wayside. I mean, to each her own, but…still…I can’t get my head around it…
So yeah the world’s a mess and in case you’ve stopped paying attention Covid is still wreaking havoc. I know plenty of people who masked up, hunkered down, vaxxed up, and tiptoed back into society only to be rewarded with, two years later, f-cking Covid. Bottom line: no one has the slightest idea how to get this pandemic under reasonable control. Full stop.
But speaking of Covid, here’s something good. We both had to go to work yesterday and so had to coordinate who was getting up when and who was showering first and I thought, “oh my god how did we do this every day?” And then I remembered. We didn’t. We didn’t see each other in the morning. In fact most days we didn’t see each other until 8pm. So seeing each other for more than 90 minutes a day in passing is a really big up-side to this new world order. So there’s that.
I also realize that Covid (and life) treats everyone differently and that not everyone experiences things the same. So with that said I’ll once again express my awareness and appreciation of how things have unfolded for me and how I’ve responded…and I’ll also also express the importance of us being here for each other and making sure we’re ok. Too many headlines of D1 college athletes dying by suicide (3 in recent months that I can recall), and then the awful, tragic reminder that neither talent nor resources are enough to help someone to outrun their demons. Naomi Judd knew about, talked about, and advocated for mental health services and support and that was not enough for her. Or maybe it was enough, depending on how you look at it, sadly. Either way her decision to end her life at 76, hours before she was to be inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, speaks volumes about the mental health crisis that we are in. While I’m no expert and don’t know exactly what message her death sends, well, I do know that we have to address it, else we’ll be 50 years out and faced with a(nother) systemic problem—scratching our heads, wondering how we got here, and paralyzed and polarized when it comes to finding solutions. So when it comes to addressing the mental health crisis, the time is now.
With Spring springing and nature all abuzz and a-flutter, it hits me…I’ve never seen a baby squirrel. They’re always full size, seemingly fat and happy. And adult.
Go Celtics! Pull yourselves together Bruins! Pick it up Red Sox! Go Sports!
Its 2022 and this week I bought a boom box. For my mom for Mother’s Day. (Shhh…it’s a surprise.) She’s pretty savvy yet she can’t convert to digital music. She just wants to play her CDs. I said, “when you want to play one, grab it off the rack and then ask Alexa to play it.” Nope, she wants to play the actual CD. It’s not a battle worth fighting so Connie’s getting a boom box Sunday. And she better f-cking listen to Aaron Neville’s Greatest Hits. 🤣🤣🤣
You know everyone does Wordle differently. Some people have starter words. My mom usually douses her first two guesses to use 10 letters. But the other day she got it right in the second guess and her two guesses were. Peace. And Train. Peace Train. She’s awesome. There’s a method to her madness and I love how she thinks.
I’m gonna end it on a high note with another Mom story. I said she was pretty savvy. She’s pretty hip for almost 80…she’s in the know about pop culture, can be counted on to give an accurate retelling of which sports team is playing when (and often with commentary on who is doing well and who needs to step up their game), and, well, here’s a text exchange from Wednesday that illustrates this and shows how awesome she is:
See, she’s the best. But you’re all pretty awesome too, coming back here week after week. I appreciate you. Happy Friday Eve. Love you too.