When you’ve been blogging as long as I have you give up all rights to private thoughts. At least it feels that way to me. When I sit down to write I’m often reminded of something Stephen King wrote in one of his non-fiction books: “I’m one of those people who doesn’t really know what he thinks until he writes it down.” That’s me, too. If I had to use just one word to define the process of writing I’d say 'cathartic'. I spill my emotions all over the computer screen, then rearrange them, adding here or there until an emerging topic appears. Blah, blah, blah. I'm pretty sure I've started off a post or two with similar words.
My life sometimes feels like I’m living in a loop like Bill Murray in the movie, Groundhog Day where he wakes up every day with the same monotonous experiences occurring day after day with zero change. For example, I had an appointment with the audiologist recently and she was running 45 minutes late and I was asked if I wanted to reschedule. What's the point for a retiree to reschedule besides making the rest of their day easier? I was already there and wasn’t leaving. She blamed it on the receptionists for double booking her, they blamed it on a patient who had “an emergency” and I’m thinking who has an audiology emergency? So what if her aids got damaged in a bizarre incident involving a grandson and a toilet, get in line! We've all have bizarre incidents with hearing aids like the time our dog used one for chewing gum. The frustration of dealing with the medical community was the groundhog day-like experience, not the actual details of what occurred, if that makes any sense.
Later that same day I made the mistake of watching CNN’s Town Hall with Donald Trump. He doubled down on every false claim he’s ever made like he wrote the script for the Groundhogs Day movie. The election was stolen and the Ukrainian war would be over within 24 hours of him taking office. He bragged about stacking the Supreme Court with the judges who overturned Roe vs Wade then he pledged to pardon most of the people with January sixth insurrection convictions. He called the Capital policeman a murderer who shot the woman who was crawling through the broken door leading to the senate chambers as the Secret Service were leading the vice-president out another door. (What did he want? The angry mob on her heels to get the VP and fulfill their chant of hanging him?). Oh, and Biden ruined the country. The audience of loyal fans applauded repeatedly like they were on an old Oprah episode where she was shouting, “And you get a new car and you get a new car and you get a new car!”
At first I was angry at CNN for giving him the national platform but then I wondered if there isn’t value in reminding people that he hasn’t changed any, that if he wins the primary the whole country will be living like we’re on the movie set of Groundhogs Day. We’ve barely recovered from his first attack on The Rule of Law, morality, civility and ethics in high places, our democracy can't survive a second Trump term. At least by having CNN host his opening bid for the primary---instead of FOX---he got a moderator who tried to call him out on a few of his lies and he in turned called her a "nasty person" for doing it. Supposedly, Trump wants to run a more conventional campaign this time thus the Town Hall on a less controversial network, but all he managed to do is prove you can paint out the stripes on a zebra but it’s still a zebra and he made the new CEO of CNN look like an idiot for allowing Trump to pick the audience.
Change of Topic---or is it? I was going to moan and groan about how boring my life has become but then I’d have to admit that I am solely responsible for what I do each day. Sure, I have appointments to keep like getting my hair cut or going to the audiologist but it’s still my choice not to look like a shaggy, old dog or to keep asking people, “What did you say?” I could stop doing what is expected and start getting drunk and disorderly. But, no, I’ve been behaving myself pretending to be a demure, elderly woman while still being young at heart enough to want to purposely fart in elevators and act like it was the person standing in front of me who did it. And just so you know, I’ve never done that. It was a (bad) figure of speech for wanting to break out of character and do something crazy.
Another change of topics and aren’t you glad about that. When my writing disintegrates down to telling fart jokes I know it’s time hit the back button or march on forward like it never happened. I’m picking the latter in this case and sharing the fact that my favorite maintenance man died suddenly. We don’t know the details yet but considering he was in his late 40s it was quite a shock. He was such a good guy. He went out of his way to show my brother compassion, stopping by his room whenever he was in his building. He had aspirations of painting, like me, and we always had such great conversations about art when he’d have occasion to work in my apartment.
Here is where I would have liked to have written something philosophic about life and death but our Life Enrichment Director beat me too it in an email so I’m just going to end this blog by quoting her: “Life is full of juxtapositions. Blue sky abuts gray, moments of gladness turn to bewilderment, and in a season of new life, eternal rest occurs. This dichotomy can be difficult to fathom, and certainly this week was no exception to the sometimes unknown and unexplainable circumstances of life. Our hearts mourn for the loss of Mark, and yet, when remembering him, one can’t help but to smile because he exuded joy, warmth, and humor. Sorrow and solace mingle in our memories. ’What is grief if not love persevering?’ I find comfort in that quote, even if it is from a show based on a comic book.”
Until next Wednesday… ©