You got a problem, people. Getting Americans off their lazy-boy recliners isn’t easy. What’s this tell you?
https://bsky.app/profile/artcandee.bsky.social/post/3mi53nq5lzs26
Just a question to those who support this regime: Just what the hell is it going to take before reality makes it through whatever brainwashing happened to you?
Well, I’m dying soon. I’ve got a cough, runny nose, bit of a head-ache. It’s over for me.
I’m devastated, destroyed! I can’t do housework like this, I might sneeze! You women won’t understand.
In all seriousness, perhaps men do complain about not feeling well far more than women do. But, see – it’s how we look at the world. For a man, not feeling well is a direct evidence of something being broken, something we have no way to fix and can hope only that someone else can fix the problem – or at best suffer until we are back under warranty.
Women, on the other hand, do look upon illness as a direct evidence of something broken, and they very much do complain about it – do not let the meme lie to you. But the real difference is that women are very familiar with dealing with broken things, things that shouldn’t be, and they just go on with their day mainly because the man in her life hasn’t fixed that thing that’s broken yet.
Hugs Everyone! – I mean, you know, from across the room. You don’t want this cold….
Randy
Hi Everyone. Today is a slow day for me, and I need it. Yesterday I had a, probably, very minor surgery, but it was a huge issue for me because, well, I have issues. I don’t like to be touched, and I get anxiety when I don’t know what to expect. It comes from having to dodge the unexpected, ya know? So, for me to go into such a situation is stressful, and ironically, the lead up to the event is by far the greatest part of the stress. But, yesterday, the clerical, nursing, doctors, and whoever else that I was too oblivious to observe their quiet professional efficiency, made sure I knew what was to happen, were personable and funny and absolutely great.
I don’t know how I would classify myself as a patient, but I do have a fair understanding of myself. When I get anxious, I talk more, joke a lot – and I’m really not funny to anyone – all in an effort to control the situation. It’s silly, I know, but it’s me. So, these poor people had to deal with this idiot. They were communicative, engaging, funny, and helpful. Shoot, the lady in recovery helped me put my pants and shoes on. I don’t know how much she gets paid, but it can’t be enough!
The thing about people who work in service is that they rarely hear about their job unless something goes wrong. Then, oh boy, do they hear about it. Perfection is unattainable, but something I once heard from my father has stayed with me: It’s the mark of a true craftsman who can take a mistake and still come out perfect. I obviously don’t know if any mistakes happened, but I do know this: it was my job to show up and place myself in their hands so they could solve my problems for me. They did a great job of that.
Now to answer your probable questions: My story basically begins with a sinus infection that I later realized, via the very bad taste in my mouth, was accompanied by a dental abscess. I went from not feeling so great to being in serious trouble and Scottie sent me off to the walk-in-clinic. And, why is it that I only get sick on weekends???? But, that followed with a trip to the dentist where I spent almost three hours getting a cleaning followed by a molar extraction. Remember: I don’t like to be touched. I was having the shakes in the car ride home afterward so bad I had to pull over before I wrecked. Unfortunately, that particular molar tends to send its roots into the maxillary sinus cavity, and the sinus membrane grows/seals around the roots. But, between the abscess, the bad root and the sinus infection, that membrane was weakened and did not heal. So, I had a hole in my head, one that did not heal. So, the doctor fixed a deviated septum, while he was in there anyway he says, cleaned out my maxillary sinus, did something to the membrane to help it heal, roughed up the root hole and stitched the hole to my mouth closed. Took about 90 minutes. Total cost so far is approaching $25,000. My insurance company is not happy with me. My costs exceed $5,000, not including three missed days of work and a week plus of light duty, but I can’t exactly have a hole in my head.
My lessons from this:
* Take care of your teeth!
* If you have a problem, don’t figure it will solve itself in time. Call someone! Get it resolved, or at least understood. Yes, it’s expensive, but Wow! – does it get expensive if you don’t take care of it when it’s relatively cheap.
* Be appreciative of the people who are there to help you. They are not a servant, they are doing a task you can not do for yourself but need, and they are due respect. On Monday, I am going to take in a box of Lindor Truffles to the surgery center at the hospital. It’s a small cost, especially in relation to the rest of it, but it goes to the people who helped me when I was a mess. And, let’s face it, anyone who helps me put on my pants and shoes deserves at least chocolate!
Hugs.
-Randy
ps: to anyone who helps people with a smile and good humor: Thank you!
In the previous post, I spoke on how I was so very tired of the political climate. One of the issues that I described was this constant stress of chaos that the drumpf administration purveys upon the American public and the world in general. Stress is debilitating. It leaves a person living in a constant state of fight/flight, questioning what we should be doing to survive the madness that is maga and a perpetual attack upon our empathy for those not so fortunate to only be stressed.
There is a saying that goes generally that if you can’t do anything about it, don’t stress over it. But, I’m stressed.
Much of my stress is my own personal life challenges, but a lot of my stress comes in the realization that while I may hope to ignore those things that are beyond my control, others are not so free. How many lives have been destroyed in the turmoil of one man’s pursuit of totalitarianism? How many deaths do we lay at the feet of this conman? And worse, however reluctantly and contrary to our wishes, he is our leader and we are responsible for the atrocities he commits.
Let’s face it, he told us who he was before being elected – for the second damned time! He showed us he was a fraud, a rapist, a serial adulterer, a racist, a criminal. He stole from children, from his workers, from his wives.
So, right or wrong, earned or borrowed, stress presses down on me and many like me. And that chronic stress severely impacts our health by keeping us in that fight or flight reflex, leading to our burnout, mental impairment and physical illness. We struggle with chronic pain, insomnia, high blood pressure and a weakended immunity. We are anxious, depressed, and can’t remember why we came into the damned room!
Is this what it means to be an adult, or just an adult in the drumpf era? My god! I watch the news and find myself in line for ptsd treatment! What could be next? What ball will I drop next? What emotional eruption is next in line for me?
I’m so f’ing tired of being tired; I’m so f’ing tired of being depressed; I’m so very f’ing tired of being anxious.
Today one of my workers asked me if I was ok. He saw that I was angry, I guess. I laughed for a moment, told him I was fine and that my back was just hurting, that it was a typical Monday. He just stood there, in front of my desk and waited. And somehow I found myself very quietly saying no. I’m not ok.
I don’t really have the freedom to be anything but ok. I am the one that has to be there making sure things get done. I am supposed to be watching out for the morale of the team. I’m charged with the continuity of employment. I’m supposed to be the strong one, the boss. And there I was realizing that everything was broken, and there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.
I don’t have answers to a damned thing, but today someone stopped what they were doing long enough to demonstrate that they cared, and I realized just how powerful that could be. It didn’t solve my problems, the sun didn’t shine any brighter and the birds weren’t singing overhead, but for a moment my burden was shared. For a moment I didn’t feel quite so alone. That made a huge difference. I hope I’m strong and wise enough to emulate that, and perhaps together we can outlast this too. Hugs.
Hello Everyone. Scottie recently asked me why I’ve not posted in a while. How do I tell this man who has been fighting the good fight for so many years that I’m just so damned tired? I’m so tired of being lied to, of being called names because I don’t believe the lies, of being caught between morality and caring for people caught in the trumpian trap. I’ve written this post over and over, and each time it seems so damned obvious that I run into the exhausted question of “what’s the damned point”? How can people be so blind, so hateful, so abusive and willing to be robbed by this unrepentent conman thief, this criminal in cheap suit, this shit-stain on the satin sheets?
I actually looked into asking an AI why politics in the trump era is so damned exhausting. This is what it said:
Politics, particularly in the Trump era, are exhausting due to constant, high-stakes news coverage, extreme polarization, and the erosion of traditional political norms. This creates a 24/7 cycle of outrage, fear-based media consumption, and personal fatigue, with 65% of Americans reporting feeling “worn out” by the political environment. 
Key reasons for this exhaustion include:
The Conversation +6I rambled for paragraphs, deleted, rambled for paragraphs again. The simple thing, the direct thing is likely best here. Dammit, I’m tired of just how bad it all is and not having a way to repair it. My only choice is to pull in, withdraw, ignore it all.
Ok, I’ve got chicken frying. Sorry to be such a downer, but I guess I’ve run out of impotent rage. Hugs.
Good Evening, Everyone!! It was 15 degrees on this unknown-numbered day of the apocalypse. I salted, chipped ice, shoveled while I shivered, my shoulders ached, my lips chapped… I’m so looking forward to the greens of spring!
In all honesty, though, I’m a Michigan kid. I had some of my favorite days on winter sleds, building show forts in plowed snow piles, snowball fights (and yes, I did save one in the freezer just to throw it at my sister in June :D) and snowmobiles. I can ice-fish without a shanty, cross-country ski and drink peppermint schnapps with the best of them. So, this year’s winter has been a measure of beautiful nights of softly falling snow while I sat by the window with a hot cup of coffee – you know, in the midst of the shoveling and salting and freezing and stuff. I remember it more fondly as a kid?
May you find your moments of zen in the harshness that life brings. Stay Warm!
randy
Hello Everyone, and Hello to you, Scottie!
A bit ago, Scottie – you put out a post titled “I have struggled all day”. In that post, you included two songs, and for those who have been on this blog for a while we do recognize Terry Jacks.
Music is a huge part of my life. I sing like a water buffalo with laryngitis, but I love music. It works to lift me up when I’m down, it reminds me of special people and special times in my life, it brings me peace, and sometimes it allows me to be angry. Music can sing to a person’t soul, lighten one’s load. It allows me to cry when I need to cry, to hope when hope seems gone. It reminds me that I’m not alone.
So, I have three songs here. Two are just a bit tongue-in-cheek, but the last is very special to me. I sent you this song, Scottie, a long time ago. It is my favorite cover of that song.
My challenge and my ask to everyone is to please add in the comments the songs that you love, that feed your heart and soul. Songs that make you smile, make you cry, make you dance or sing in a crowded grocery store because you just can’t not sing or dance when you hear it. Because like the last song says so clearly: we are all in this together, whether we want to be or not. 🙂
I love you, my brother!
Randy
Careful. That one gets in your ear and you can’t get it out.
That one for my big brother, who I do my best to irritate – as all brothers should.
And finally, this one, to remind to remind my very wonderful brother and all of us that no matter how much we may feel alone, we are not. We are loved – first we need to remember that we have to love ourselves no matter how we are feeling (easier said, I know). But, we also have to remember that there are people who rely on us, who hope in us, who see our mangled spirit and troubled mind as a life-line in cold dark seas and really think we are something grand even when we don’t.
So, Again Everyone… please let me know the songs that are special to you, and perhaps even why they are special. Music is the magic. Randy
Hugs.
Randy
These past months have been difficult. I was so very shocked to see the death of Renee Good, how chaos and hate seem to be the republican drug of choice, and how horrible it is to consider that we have but begun this 4-year trip through hell. Recently somehow this song found its way into my youtube playlist. All I could think as these young voices invaded my troubled thoughts was what are we leaving for them?
America the Beautiful followed, a song we all know if not by memory then certainly we recognize it when we hear it sung before the football game on Friday Night. “O Beautiful, for Spacious Skies, For Amber Waves of Grain…” proudly sung by the proud and mighty citizens, the mothers and fathers, grandfathers with war wounds and grandmothers who know loss and pain yet hope. It is a calm and flowing song, one that somehow has always given me a peaceful heart for in that long ago poem is a promise of home.
President Kennedy, long ago, asked Americans to consider what they could do for their country. I think many think that is defined as joining the military, and that is certainly one great thing a person can do but there are far more. And, I think it is primarily why tRumpf has sought to destroy the legacy of the Kennedy Presidency by paving over the Rose Garden and defacing the Kennedy Center for Performing Arts.
See, I don’t think Kennedy asked us to serve in the military. I think President Kennedy asked us to Love Our Country! Like the song America the Beautiful, he asked us to recognize the beauty of our home, he asked us to treasure it, he asked us to see it not as a resource to be stripped bare but the precious refuge of our grandparents and where our children rest their heads as they dream of their future. I think Kennedy voiced a challenge, a warning and a condemnation that there will come those who seek to strip our precious home like a thief in the night – a conman who lied his way past the door and is filling his pockets.
It is a sadness that so many in this beautiful home we share have determined that they can only hate the others who would hope to enjoy living here. To look upon another’s misery with spite, blaming the wounded for their wounds and glorying in the overflowing pockets of the thieves who seek to steal the silverware is a sickness that I don’t understand. I don’t understand those who say they have love in their heart yet show contempt in their words and actions for others. Especially I can not find understanding for those who claim to love Jesus yet fail in every definition of love that he gives us. Perhaps it is no wonder they are cruel, because surely their hearts are convicted and defensive in their misery as they have given away their love for their country and their Christianity for a red hat.
randy
Scottie's Playtime 