Remeber Ten Things?

Feeling a little cranky these days (ya think?) Summer is the absolute worst time of the year to live in a suburban neighborhood.  Now I know why folks go on vacation.  It's not to take a break from their jobs.  It's to get away from their neighbors.  So just for grins, let's compose a "ten things" about neighborhood living.   

Ten Things to Hate About Living in a Suburban Neighborhood

1    1.)Power washers—people will power wash anything: driveways, fences, decks, siding—usually starting at some ungodly hour in the morning, and droning on for H.O.U.R.S.

2   2.)Gas-Powered leaf blowers—the most ubiquitous form of traffic in neighborhoods is landscape maintenance trucks.  And every one of those million landscape trucks contains at least two gas-powered leaf blowers, often hauled out at the same time, for double the decibels.

3.  3.)Chain saws—someone always needs to cut down or trim a tree—at 7 am on a Sunday morning.

4   4.) The Fourth of July—Don’t get me started.

5   5.) Neighbors—Doers of all the above dastardly deeds.

6   6.) Neighbors’ dogs—barking at nothing, for hours.  Doing their business in neighbors’ yards. Declared by the owner to be “friendly” while foaming at the mouth, straining at the leash, obviously on the attack.

7   7.) On-street parking—Every house on the block has a double-wide, sometimes triple-wide, driveway.  Appearing as bleached concrete “moats” between the houses and the street, because , evidently, the street is where one parks cars.  Preferably not in front of one’s own home.

8   8.) Lawn maintenance…or not—None of the front yards on this block is larger than about 2000 square feet.  Not huge.  What is so hard about cutting the grass before it gets a foot high?

9   9.) Night marauders—the human kind.—Nothing is safe in your front yard or not locked up at night.  Things will disappear.  And cars parked on the street will be vandalized.  For no apparent reason, just for kicks. (Which leads one to wonder about the wisdom of the “park your car on the street” fetish…)

1   10.)Neighbors—Once again, those humans on the other side of the six-foot fences who believe the entire neighborhood exists for their pleasure and convenience.  Everyone else be damned.   

Borrowed From My Friend

I borrowed this from Jackie, who is still blogging away (much more faithfully than I, I'm afraid) at Walking With Hope.  

Memes being what they are, I honestly can't say for certain whether Dan George actually uttered or wrote these words.  

We tend to ascribe hyper-nobility to Native Americans (actually, George was born in Canada, so that would make him "First Nations".)  I'm not sure the humans indigenous to North America were any less...human...than the Europeans who exploited and ultimately destroyed them.  Perhaps their saving grace was that they were not as "civilized" as the Europeans when the two groups embarked upon their disastrous relationship.  "Civilization" encourages all the worst aspects of the human spirit...greed, selfishness, and the compulsion to dominate EVERYTHING being chief among those.  It seems the farther a culture is from what we think of as civilized, the less it is controlled by the mad drive to gather all the "goodies" for oneself  and beat the snot out of any challenger.  Still, it's not as if the indigenous people were strangers to the concepts of "enemies" and "war" before the Europeans invaded.  They just hadn't taken those concepts to the same level of mass destruction that the Europeans had (and would.) 

So I guess I call bullshit on the concept of all-good, all-loving and all-peaceful Native Americans.  Let's not romanticize them into something they were not.  Human beings are human beings.

However, all that doesn't really change the sentiment of the quote.  No matter who said it or invented it, it's beautiful and valid.  And is infinitely more worthy of spreading around than 99.99% of the garbage disseminated on the internet these days.

Can't hurt to spread a little love, can it?   

Not my Favorite Solstice

 

I am not a very good pagan.  In fact, I'm not sure I'm pagan at all.  Like every other term in the orbit of human religion, "pagan" has been co-opted by a subset of believers in a particular non-mosaic religious dogma; rather than referring to "a [any] person holding religious beliefs other than those of the main world religions," as pagan is defined in the Oxford dictionary.  

Nowhere is my lack of dutiful paganism more apparent than in my observance of solstice.  I'm all about the Winter Solstice.  I have my fire, I chant and sing, I symbolically burn the things that no longer serve.  Winter Solstice makes sense to me, it appeals to me to have a celebration right in the middle of my favorite time of year.  That I'm supposed to be celebrating the "return of the light" seems entirely beside the point.  I'm actually reveling in the starkness and darkness of the time of year that best speaks to my stage of life.    

I'm generally not in the mood to celebrate the summer solstice.  Summer lost its appeal for me a long time ago.  When I was immersed in a seasonal business, I was too busy during the summer to pay attention to much else.  Now that I'm semi-retired, summer is a time of year that is too hot, too fast, too noisy and too social for me.  

This year, our region of Oregon has had a wet, cold, depressing spring.  Every morning I get up and look at my weather app (I really should delete that thing, for all the good it is), and it either promises rain and unsettled weather, or it hints at a less than 50% chance of precipitation that gets quickly drowned in the quixotic reality of Oregon meteorology. Oddly enough, today--this year's Summer Solstice in the Willamette Valley--is the first day we've had unfettered sun in...it seems like months.  I suppose I should be grateful, and hopeful that today is a sign of better weather to come...but I'm just...meh.

What's to look forward to besides the constant crack of legal and illegal fireworks throughout the neighborhood between now and the end of August?  Or the stagnant heat that keeps me from getting a decent night's sleep?  Or needing to stay far away from any of Oregon's more beautiful natural areas, because this time of year they are crawling with tourists?  Or neighbors throwing noisy parties that might as well be right in my own back yard, in this environment of squished-together houses with tiny yards? Or being unable to enjoy the back yard on a summer evening without being beset by a horde of ravenous mosquitoes? I can think of SO many reasons that the thought of summer just leaves me cold.  Or wishing it WAS cold, anyway.

Be all that as it may, I'll wish all a Happy Solstice. Enjoy the summer, if that's what you're into.  Me?  I'll just put my head down and charge through it, until I can get to the time of year I really like.       

Assessing Risk to Reward Ratio

 Three counties in the state of Oregon have been designated areas of high spread of COVID.  Douglas (Roseburg), Jackson (Medford)—with population centers in the reddest of red areas of the state.  And…Lane.  That’s   right.  Good old Eugene-Springfield.  My own back yard. 

Here in Lane County, we combine deep red with indigo blue. Here reside some of the most rabid, anti-mask, anti-vax Trumpers in the state--irritated to such radicalism, one would suppose, by being forced to live in close proximity to the very, very blue community headed by the University of Oregon.  Yes, the state university...where they practice all that librul indoctrination stuff; and where they additionally entice countries from all over the globe to send their athletes, their money and their COVID to spread among the general population.  We are doubly cursed.

The Oregonian states that “People in those areas [of “high risk”] should wear masks in public indoor settings, according to the Centers for Disease Control.” 

I wear my mask.  I have never stopped wearing my mask.  I have laid in a supply of N95 masks, which I will probably continue to wear in public for the foreseeable future.  

But I am here to tell you that, regardless of CDC recommendations, the good citizens of Lane County are DONE with COVID in general, and wearing masks in particular.  

We went to a business meeting last week, and we were the ONLY folks in the room wearing masks.  When I walk into any store, I am usually the only person within my sight line so attired.  Yes, I HATE wearing the mask.  It is annoying, it’s uncomfortable, and the pressure on my jaw joints can sometimes trigger a jolly migraine.  But it’s not going to kill me to wear a mask…while I STILL don’t know what effect a COVID infection might have on my abused old body.  So…I’ll choose the mask, thank you very much.  

My supply of trusty N95’s has given me the confidence to venture out into public more than I have for over 2 years.  I’m almost to the point where I go out as much as I did pre-pandemic.  Though I still have no intention of eating indoors at a restaurant any time soon (maybe ever),  I’ve indulged in plenty of shopping—at garage sales, resale shops,  home centers and grocery stores.  For the most part, these have all been positive experiences…except for the grocery stores.   

Once upon a time, I would pull into the parking lot at Safeway, eye the prime parking spots designated for grocery pick-up, and scoff, “Who is so lazy that they even can’t go in and shop for their own groceries?”  After 2 years of pandemic protocol, I know with absolute certainty the answer to that question:  Me.   I am that customer. 

And it’s not so much that I’m lazy.  It’s that the entire experience of shopping for groceries is riddled with annoyances.  Track down a shopping cart that never seems to be present at the entrance you choose.  Navigate the obstacle course of oblivious, stupid, or downright rude other shoppers who don’t realize or don’t care that they’re not the only shoppers in the store.   

Try to unravel the mystery of what the actual prices are, dependent upon whether you do or do not possess the cherished membership card of whatever store you are in.  

Stand in a checkout line that never moves because the person in the front of the line is busy arguing with the checker about prices and coupons, or the checker is busy providing a chatty social experience for every customer.  Try the self-checkout line, only to have it freeze up at the slightest provocation, and then stand and twiddle your thumbs while “help is on the way.”   

I never realized how much I DETEST shopping for groceries until COVID-19 showed me that I could completely eliminate that arduous chore from my life and not starve to death.  And the idea that an N95 mask now magically enables me to indulge in an activity I clearly loathe holds no appeal whatsoever. 

So…you see that lady sitting in her car in one of those cherished close-in parking spots, waiting for someone to bring out  her groceries and load them in the back of her tiny SUV?  That is me.  And I don’t feel one iota of bad about it.  In fact, I’m giddy with delight.  I grin ear-to-ear all the way home. 

If nothing else, COVID has shown me what is worth risking for, and what is not.  Even if it’s not actually my health that I’m risking, but only my sanity.  So there is indeed a silver lining in every cloud, I guess.   

 

What We Really Need To Remember

 

 

Again

 

 

So...

 What's the story, social media?

Did the 4th graders not comply?

Did they bully the disaffected teenaged shooter?

Did 19 children die because there was no "good guy with a gun" in the school to shoot back?

Is the "right" to purchase multiple semi-auto weapons upon achieving the mature age of 18 a "mental health problem?" 

Though I was rattled to read of yet another mass shooting when I visited my news sites yesterday afternoon...shocked, dismayed, horrified...

I find myself relieved that I'm not really doing social media anymore.

Because I REALLY don't want to know how the gun lobby, the ammo-sexuals, the Russian bots and the crazy QAnon-ers are spinning this one.

But I guess I already DO know.  Because their arguments never change.

Loud.  Stupid.  MY rights. MY freedom.  Mine, mine, mine, mine, MINE!!!

Does ANYBODY still wonder where evil comes from?

Nostalgia

 Remember the Coke commercials from the 70's? 

"I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony..."

Imagine…a time when a call for unity and love was actually the stuff of pop culture.

Lately, I find myself wading in a puddle of nostalgia...

One yearns for the times when people sought love

And light, and unity..

And consciously chose

NOT to do things they COULD do...

But shouldn't.

"Boring" Indeed!

 

I know.

I was going to keep  my blog positive, beautiful and affirming.

Then I made the mistake of clicking on an article on the Foxfire home screen that really pissed me off.  So, of course, I have to rant about it.  At least a little.

The article is titled "The Rise and Fall of the Star White House Reporter." It's an opinion piece based on the premise that the Biden press briefing room has become so boring that White House reporting has lost ratings (horror of horrors!) and newsrooms are going elsewhere for the kind of news that produces clicks, views, and ad revenue. Oh my fucking god!!!   

 

I'll confess, I didn't read the whole article.  I got so peeved I had to make it go away.  All I could think was, here is some idiot millennial who hasn't a clue what role news is supposed to play in a democratic republic, whining that the actual STUFF of government is too boring to make stars out of the folks who report it.  Because it's not selling soap, so "news"rooms are going elsewhere to get the good stuff.

This is everything--E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.--that is wrong with 21st-century "journalism."  

I wrote about this all the way back in 2005, after reading a book called "Bad News" by Tom Fenton, a former foreign news service reporter.  He bemoaned the fact that foreign news had become so "uninteresting" since the dawn of for-profit news, that major networks all but closed down their foreign offices in order to concentrate on the juicier soap operas happening right here on our own shores.  Here is a link to the piece I wrote back then: The News Is All Bad

My most succinct distillation of the issue facing the nation with the demand for "interesting" (read: sensational enough to capture the eyes of our hyper-consuming public) news was this:

With the advent of cable television, with its all-news formats creating the 24-hour news cycle, the Big Three networks—ABC, NBC, and CBS—suddenly found themselves competing for viewers in an arena where, obviously, there were big bucks to be made (after all, CNN seemed to be rolling in dough…) The news departments were designated "profit centers," where they had once been public service. Their mission changed from serving the public to entertaining it; and that, in one fell swoop, spelled the end of any meaningful news reaching the eyes of the American people.

That was seventeen years ago.  I think it can be said that, in the interim, Trump and his outrageous, evil antics multiplied exponentially the potential for disaster precipitated by this move to "for-profit news." 

This, more than even the explosion of social media, is what has led us down the path that we are on now:  The one to the ultimate destruction of our government and the American way of life.

How do we change direction--go back--especially if the journalism field is now dominated by youngsters like whoever wrote this ridiculous Politico opinion piece bemoaning the "boring" Biden Administration; "reporters" who have no idea that what they're doing has the potential to destroy the country?

We are in such big trouble.  

*Note: I did go back and try to read the rest of the article.  I'll confess once again, I didn't make it to the end.  But this time, it was more a case of  "TLDR"  (Too Long, Didn't Read)  While I don't like to look like I have the millennials' gnat-like attention span, the article could have done with some judicious "OK, that's enough" editing.  Seems like the author was trying to turn the tenor of the article back in the direction of "It's ok if the White House is 'boring,' it's not supposed to be the bad reality show it's been for the past several years... "  But he never actually got there.  So while I'm willing to concede that perhaps the writer wasn't the first tier idiot I thought he was at the outset, he didn't convincingly prove he wasn't, either.

   

A New “Subject”

It’s been a while since I’ve snapped a photo of a bird I have not photographed before.  I’ve been kind of uninspired for the past several months, camera-wise.  I’ve pretty much done the raptors, ducks and geese found in these parts.  I haven’t photographed a lot of songbirds, mostly because the little guys are so busy and quick that they’re gone before I can yank my camera out, pint it and shoot.  I’m lucky to get a recognizable image of one of the little guys; actually framing a pleasant composition with a songbird in it is rare indeed.

So…this is not that. But it is an acceptable image of a bird I’ve not had the pleasure to witness partaking at my feeder before.  Behold, the Western Tanager:

 

Bye Bye, Birdie!

 Every morning, I do a salutation to the four compass points.

When I face the East, I ask the Heart of the Universe to bathe us in its light, that we would reject our darkness.

Lately, the Universe has whispered that I should ditch the generic "we/us" and make my ask much more personal.

"Bathe ME in your light..."

And the Universe responded, "Something in your life is blocking the Light."

Twitter.  Twitter was blocking the light. 

The scales fell from my eyes, and I saw that swimming in the cesspool was not doing anything positive for anyone.  Not for any "contacts" I had on that platform.  Not for me.  Not for anyone.

So...I have ditched it.

It was surprisingly hard to make it happen...but I realized that what passes for "community" on twitter are connections that are sad, and loose, and entirely superficial.  And disposable.  

So I disposed of it.  

For now, my social media "connections" will be Instagram and this blog.  

I've abandoned the idea of online community, and even of online friendships.

But I'm going to try to keep "Coming to Terms" and my Instagram feed positive, beautiful and affirming.

I'm tired of being turned inside out by wading in negativity.

Time to drag myself out of the cesspool and into the light.