Memoir, from just outside the box
Letter to Big Bad Bob
[NOTE: A few of you have already read some of this content. Last week I joked that I was transitioning from old man to old woman and that I was a member of an over-70 women's bowling team. The truth is... I am transitioning to my own parallel universe, where Donald Trump, his bootlicking cabinet, the arrogant tech bros and all of MAGA do not exist. David Brooks: "I've found it necessary to root myself in anything that feels re-humanizing." Chris LaTray: "In a world engineered to make us reactive, I intend to strip bare the heart and soul... and refocus."]
Time has caught up with us. We are in our 70s. According to the rules of the game, nobody gets out alive, a reassuring thought considering the current political reality.
You and I are living in "the next to the last corral," still wiping our own asses, not yet hooked up to life support. Our youthful stamina and sexual urgency are gone. We are making too many little mistakes. "Why did I come into this room?"
We must not lose sight of the fact that "the last hurrah" has a comedic side. Yesterday, I stepped under the steaming shower head and then realized that I still had my socks on.
No matter how it ends, please don't say, "Leichner died doing what he loved." There is a good chance my brother might find me with my pants down, sitting on the toilet, with the Sunday crossword crumpled in “my cold dead hands”.
The only use I have for the line in the sand we are calling Trump’s "First 100 Days,” and the glut of expert analysis that, like white noise, is going in one ear and out the other, is to declare the second Trump administration...
kaput (1895) hopelessly outmoded.
In my parallel universe, it's finally over. He's gone, exiled to confinement at Mar-a-Lago, where the dress code is casual white supremacy. Trump is banned from all social media, no cell phones, no land lines, no TV, no computers, escape tunnels sealed.
In my parallel universe, the entire sane world is rejoicing. Even a few of the MAGA faithful are relieved that they no longer have to pretend that Donald Jonestown Trump is the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Y’all no longer have to carry the weight of that laughable blasphemy.
On the first day of his exile, Donnie woke up, ate a Happy Meal, played a round of golf and recorded 18 holes-in-one. I am happy for him. Trump’s lobotomy saved the world.
In Memoriam / Reader Comment to the Online New York Times
I was born in 1947. I was 16 when JFK was murdered. JFK, MLK, RFK… On May 4, 1970, I was in my barracks room, Officers Training School, Lackland Air Force Base, when over my transistor radio I heard that four students had been shot dead at Kent State University by Ohio National Guard troops, Republican Governor James A. Rhodes presiding.
Allison Krause (19); Jeffrey Miller (20); Sandra Scheuer (20); William Schroeder (19); nine wounded… 13 seconds… 55 years ago.
I took it personally. I grew up in Ohio and graduated from an Ohio college. That moment marked the end of my allegiance to all governments. I became the change by embracing minimalism… no wife, no kids, no property, no house… carpenter, nomad, the quiet renegade. I have never voted for a Republican. (167 recommend)
My father Chuck was born in 1921 and my mother Marge in 1923. That was the era when many American language idioms came from one of four entertainment genres shared from coast to coast... serial radio dramas, newspaper comic strips, popular music and movies. In the morning, did your parents ever describe you as being “all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed"?
Apparently, the terms “bright-eyed” and “bushy-tailed” originated at different times... “bright-eyed” in the late 1500s... and “bushy-tailed” around 1870.
It wasn’t until 1912 that the terms appeared together for the first time. They weren’t referring to a person. They were referring to a squirrel, which did, in fact, have bright eyes and a bushy tail.
"The Adventures of Smilin' Jack" was America’s longest-running aviation comic strip, syndicated in newspapers and comic books from 1933 to 1973.
The phrase "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed" was used to describe a character in "Smilin' Jack" on March 28, 1944.
And finally, one more bit of Americana…
I dated a Christian zealot who ended the relationship with me because I'm not religious. She later sent me an email that said I was indoctrinated by "the system" because I believe in science. "Why don't you understand that the Bible is the only truth, the Earth is flat, and outer space is a lie." In the most condescending, narcissistic, Christian way she could muster, she said she prays for me.
Thought Crime
“Minimalism, in all its forms, is the middle finger to capitalism.”
This hit close to home for me. I guess I still have one foot in the present world and one foot in the parallel world where The Donald is no longer in power. Wish I could transition completely like you. But daily I lose the battle to not read the news. I don’t want to but can’t resist. And I still watch The Daily Show.
I’m jealous of your minimalism. I’ve lived a life of capitalism and now I’m suffocating under a life of buying too much. The piles of stuff in my house are closing in on me. I give stuff to charity. I try to sell stuff. I don’t think I will live long enough to see much progress. My daughter is a pack rat. I’m currently going through her old Barbies since she finally gave me permission to get rid of them. The good news is that 1980 Barbies are considered vintage and bring a good price on EBay. The bad news is that it is a big project.
I too am living the ignominious life of a 78 year old living with a relative. Earlier in the week I was suffering with food poisoning. When I went to the bathroom for the second or third time, fighting a loosing battle to save my clothes, I fell on my knees with my pants around my ankles. Thankfully my daughter was not home. And I have to clean up all messes by myself. I am the housekeeper in this household. She does not clean. I failed as a mother in that respect. She says she will hire a house cleaner when I’m gone.