Well, according to Igor Panarin, we are in some trouble here.  Among his dire predictions for 2010: civil war, national disintegration and, worst of all, moral degradation (reputable, but longer, Wall Street Journal article here). That’s right folks, this former KGB analyst is terribly concerned about the moral degradation of the United States starting very, very shortly.

I dredged up this article while looking for appropriately apocalyptic tales with which to regale you.  It is the end of the decade, after all.  Other stunning possibilities for 2010: an attempt to clone a “famous person”(at least the article didn’t say famous celebrity); Rupert Murdoch will block Google’s access to his news sites (say goodbye to free news, freedom of information and equality in access to information and hello to an even wider information gap that shows a bias toward wealth, first world residency and education among other things); World War III (images of destruction); and, the ever worrisome 5% tax on cosmetic surgery.

I haven’t got any of my own predictions for 2010, but I’m certainly counting on a brighter year than this.

Our dog is two years old.  Two and half years old.  He doesn’t blatantly destroy things anymore.  In fact, he really never destroyed very valuable things.  Once, a library book.  My wife’s croc has several puncture wounds.  But in general, he prefers to steal and then run, prancing, around the house so that we’ll notice HOW BAD HE IS.

So now when he takes something we try one of three tactics.  A) we tell him firmly “No!  Leave it!” and “Drop!”, B) we chase him, shrieking, around the house, or C) we ignore him until he comes to see why we’re ignoring him.  You can see why it might be confusing for him.  But honestly, he’s a pretty good dog and I feel pretty comfortable leaving things out on tables and countertops.

You can see where this is going though, can’t you?  Tonight he stole my snow boot and I addressed it through option C.  Earlier, he tried to take my supper and flat stole my wife’s shirt.  To be honest, we had already used up options A and B by 7pm.  So I let him have it (the boot).  I only had a few more things to drop in the wash and I was going to take it back.  Really, it was about 45 seconds.  And I came around the corner and he’d taken a giant piece out of my boot.

He ate my boot.  In 45 seconds.  I’m pretty sure that calls for response D, only, I’m not sure what that is.  What’s done is done though.  I hope there’s no more snow this winter…

My in-laws are in town today.  They were here yesterday and will be gone tomorrow.  I hope.  My mother-in-law said something like, “Well, we packed extra clothes for about a week.  You never know when you might want to stay a bit longer.”

You never know.

I know though.  I know that I’m delighted they came to see us this year, given last year’s debacle.  I know I’m very happy to have spent the holidays with family, instead of abroad as has so often happened.  I know that I’m going to be an excellent mom and that I have a previously untapped well of patience for children.  On the other hand, I know that I have a negative amount of patience for my mother and D’s mother.  I know that some things will drive me to drink – like this:

Look folks, when you’re visiting someone’s house, it’s okay to keep your water glass, not wanting to dirty up someone else’s kitchen.  But, if your host has taken your empty water glass from the evening before and washed it after you went to sleep, you are not justified in saying, “If I put this glass in the refrigerator, will it be safe?  I’m just trying to keep it safe.”

You’ve got no excuse if you leave the house for the afternoon and when your daughter-in-law opens the fridge said glass is empty.  It’s not holding any liquid, it’s not storing anything that you’re going to drink later.  It’s empty.  Put it in the sink and get a new glass dammit.

Well, it’s the small battles.  I know tomorrow I can wash as many dishes as I want to.

Dear coworkers,

I know you’re going stir crazy.  I know you haven’t been to the grocery store since last weekend because you didn’t go with the frenzied masses on Friday evening.  You must be hungry, too.  I’m sure you ran out of toilet paper, milk and bread two hours after the first flake fell.  But that’s not important.  What matters here is that you are trapped in your house and you couldn’t get out if you wanted to.

At first, I was deeply sympathetic.  You mean they didn’t plow your road?  Wow!  I’m sure you can’t take your sedan out – two feet is a lot!  Then, I was a little skeptical.  You mean they didn’t plow your road yet?  Wow…that must be difficult.  And your driveway is all blocked in?  Well, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.  But now, three days after the snow stopped, I’m afraid my patience has run out.

Look people, my road is slick too.  There is slush and the snow is heavy.  I spent a lot of time shoveling a path for the car, a path for the dog and a path for the mailman.  But the key word is shoveling.  You actually have to do it.  You can’t wait for some miracle of weather conditions to magically melt your obscured walks and drives.  I’m sorry you have only a garden spade.  Use it.  My neighbors did.

The point is, you can’t play on people’s sympathy if “the guy” didn’t come by to plow you out.  He’s busy.  He can’t even get the main thoroughfares plowed.  He’s not coming to your house.  You still have to work, shop, leave your house, and there isn’t any excuse not to put on some boots, come outside and do your civic duty.  I’m sure the post office, ups, paper delivery and holiday solicitors would appreciate it.  Most have us have managed to shovel.  As each day goes by, you are losing goodwill.  I’m much less likely to be understanding when I’m working alone, again, because you are too lazy to pick up a shovel.

Look, it’s not melting.  Get to it.  Love, me.

When she has to call 911 to have the POLICE come make her 14-year-old son stop playing Grand Theft Auto.

What she should have done is take the machine away from him. That would stop him.

Ridiculous.

Grow a backbone, lady.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34516954/ns/technology_and_science-games/

No, no shoveling yet.  And, regardless of whether you’re calling it snowmageddon or snowpocolypse, it really is a lot of snow.  My only experience with this much snow at once was in Chicago in 1979 when I was barely old enough to remember.  The national weather service says they got 18 inches that January, though this description might be more accurate.  There is a picture of me sitting level with the top of a stop sign that weekend after plowing and I haven’t seen such dramatic snowfall since.

It’s still snowing (though less) and we’re just shy of 24 inches.  24.  Two feet.  That doesn’t seem like so much when you’re just thinking about it, but it means that cars are suggestions in a drift and if you stand in a dip, you’re up to your waist.  Charlottesville is a Southern city unaccustomed to snowfall.  On the plus side – everyone seems to be staying in (unlike DC where thousands of uninitiated snow drivers take to the highways at the first flake and stay out there til they crash and die).  On the minus side – there aren’t actually any plows.  More…tractors with plow attachments.

Tomorrow – shoveling.

Stick it out til the end. It’s worth it.

Bucking the trend, we just got a subscription to the local paper.  There’s not actually much paper to speak of; a total of two sections with about 8 pages each.  The two sections?  The A section (including all local and national news) and Sports section (including local sports, comics, Dear Abby and the crossword).  As an aside, the crossword is an amateur event, involving questionable and repetitive clues. Since we decided to get the paper for the crossword and the coupons, I don’t know how long this paper subscription will actually last.  Wow, I just turned 92 while you sat here and watched.  Son, get me my bifocals and I’ll give you a quarter!

I tell you all that to tell you this, the obituaries hold a place of honor on the second page.   The second page.   I’m completely unable to read the paper without spending time pursuing the obits because of their startling placement. And there aren’t the obituaries I’m used to – tiny two-inch columns with a smiling black and white picture and the bare minimum of information.  These are the obituaries you spend time writing before you die.  The laudatory life list that remembers you not only to friends and family, but to complete strangers who tear up at your well-lived life.   Oh…that’s just me.

So in the morning we read about “Sassy” and Arnold “Tex” Stewart and Sue Elizabeth Sarah Moore Midgett.  I’m not sure where the Ted Johnsons and Alice Maxwells live, but it isn’t here.  We learn about where they’ve come from (Orange, Roanoke) and what they did (mechanic, Navy, cook). We find out what their quirks were (“visitors scuttled to the balcony to prevent being killed by a tower of books” – no, I’m serious) and where to send flowers.  The dullest part is usually the preceded in death by and survived by bit.  It’s the most mandatory though and the most common content. I usually skip over those bits when I’m reading about Sassy and Tex to my wife over cereal.

I skipped over them…until I got to Aubrey.  He had a list of precededs and surviveds and particularly caught our attention with the mention of his grandchildren: he apparently favored one, Stevie.  I’m not sure how the other kids will feel about that.  I almost moved on to the next obit until I realized that, not only was Aubrey survived by his wife of 25 years, he was also survived by his special bed partner “Tina”.

Oh yes, they did. I’ve attached the photo.  This is a cached version since, as you can imagine, the official obit was replaced the following day with one that didn’t even whisper the name Tina.  Sure, you could argue that Tina is a faithful hound, but I suspect that Tina is the special lady, nay, bed partner, who was responsible for faxing this piece of work in the first time.  I think we’ll keep the paper.

The comparison is apt, I think. Nero (Congress) delays insurance coverage changes for 3 to 4 years, but people are still dying for lack of medical care. And given this boon of time they have (like the credit card rules not taking effect until Feb ‘10 so they jack up rates, lower credit amounts or close accounts altogether before the rules change) what will they do in the mean time? Big pharma has already jacked up the costs of name brand prescriptions.

I’ve seen it written that right now, basically a lousy bill that does nothing will be passed, with the hopes that a future Congress can tweak it later, to make it better. If that isn’t the most bassackwards thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.

In the meantime, people will confront medical issues they have no hope of paying for treatment for, so they let them go. Or the people who have insurance are of the mindset of “IGMFU” to everyone who doesn’t.

Then come the emails. All looking for a ”donation of $25.00 or whatever you can afford to help win the battle” over health care reform. I have news for them. Been there, done that, can see no difference. I won’t be throwing good money after bad. I need it to pay escalating costs I have to bear.

And all the while, Nero plays on. 

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34382653/ns/health-health_care/

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34369058/ns/business-economy_at_a_crossroads/

England & France are looking at taxing (at an almost 50% rate) bonuses paid to executives of the banks who had their hands out for taxpayer money. Why aren’t we doing the same?

The article goes on to mention that if the people who are at the top of the large banks aren’t paid “what they’re worth”, they’ll just go somewhere else, where they will be. Thus the worry about “brain drain”.

These are the same people who thought nothing of concocting new ways to package & sell junk, which caused the collapse the taxpayers had to bail them out of. Why are they worth so much more than anyone else?

I still don’t see why the “too big to fail” banks haven’t been broken up, so they pose no further problems. Leaving them whole is leaving the American taxpayer on the hook. They break it, we have to fix it, meanwhile they are free to do it again.

If Congress can’t get this fixed, we need new people there. People who aren’t bought & sold by the banks.

I’ve never lived in a house of my own.  I’ve never lived in an actual house as an adult and I had no idea there was such baggage attached.  No, it isn’t the responsibility of the mortgage payment.  It’s not changing the air filters or mowing the lawn.  It isn’t getting to walk around naked with all the blinds open and then remembering you have nosy neighbors.

No one told me about the pressure around the holidays.

People, I thought the excessive stars and stripes on July 4th were over the top.  First one house, then another and soon practically every brick ranch had a flag streaming in the wind.  Shiny ones and heavy cloth ones.  Big ones and ones with satiny gold trim.  Some houses even took the extra step to jam into the ground some sort of cartoony independence day flag with fireworks emblazoned on it.  I didn’t see it as a competition then, oh no.  Just a friendly little (okay, big) show of spirited decor.  Ho, ho!  We’re all such patriotic pals!

That was this summer.  Now, it’s a whole new ball game and it’s an all-stars invitational.

First, I saw a few single candle lights appear in a few, isolated windows.  How cute, I thought.  How very Virginian.  Then it snowed.  Oh, it was beautiful.  Trees popped up in warm, glowing living rooms.  Decorations sparkled and tiny lights twinkled from deep inside evergreen bows.  We were with them.  Our tree is evergreen (because it’s plastic) and a weird assortment of sentimental ornaments jangle on the branches.  In our neighborhood, I suspect the trappings of religion are tucked away behind the shower of lights but the outward focus is less religion and more padding the pockets of the electric company.  I’m sorry, I mean celebration of the season.

Lest I sound like a grinch, I’ll reveal that I grew up in a decorated house.  My father put his light-based spirit on the outside and my mother spewed crazy on the inside.  No surprise there.  So we had strings of lights on the eaves with big, fat colored bulbs.  And that was it.  My father was more interested in using our limited cash for presents than lighting up the neighborhood.  I’ll admit I was jealous of the sparkling string of blue lights across the street, the fake snowman on the lawn down the way and the blinking extravaganza next-door that lit my bedroom like sunshine.

I didn’t realize the pressure he was under.  Every night, D and I drive home and there are more light displays.  Just tonight there were four new nets of lights draped over round bushes.  Red velvet bows are casting shadows on boughs of green wound around stairwell banisters and wreaths tacked on front doors.  There is our dark house, sitting quietly amid the commotion.  Like my father, we weighed our options and sided with the minimum.  A tree makes my wife happy and gives off enough heat that I can lower the heat a few more degrees.  I’m kidding!  Sort of…

Is it like this in your neighborhood?  Is there a burgeoning sense of guilt as the neighbors dip their properties into sparkles, lights and inflatable santas patting white wire deer?  I know you’ve seen those deer.  This isn’t the sort of neighborhood you’d drive through just to see the lights, but it has its fair share of people who wished they lived there.  I’m glad they don’t though.  Because here, I can make sure they stand out.

No, you say? What about what the addicts who have quit have to say? They disagree with you.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/34347853#34347853

They agree it isn’t what was smoked in the 60’s & 70’s. There’s more THC in it, making it stronger & more addictive. Watch the video.

And the woman at the end of it? I consider her a user. Just like a Republican who thinks the economy can be made better by gigantic tax cuts for big business & the wealthy 10% of the population.

As I stood there, peeling potatoes, I was thinking about how this particular peeling tool always nicks my fingers.  Every time, no matter how careful I am, I end up with a bandaid around a knuckle and blood in the sink.  Daydreaming about my soon-to-be nicks (maybe that’s why I’m getting nicked to begin with), I started thinking about how folks end up unexpectedly spending their Thanksgivings in the ER.

Ordinarily, I’m a reasonably good cook.  Dinner is an important part of our daily ritual and the more cooking involved the better.  Sometimes we’re too exhausted to whip up a feast (or anything at all) but when we do I feel more grounded and more satisfied.  Cooking a Thanksgiving meal is like a year-long version of that grounding.  It’s a capstone that makes me feel confident in the coming year, grateful for my connections and relationships, and quietly thrilled at my increasing mastery of the traditional meal.  And I don’t even like turkey.

Ordinarily, I have reasonably good technical skills.  Today I quickly chopped fresh sage and thyme into a sweet pile of fragrant, miniscule herbs.  It was indistinguishable in the stuffing, lending flavor but no earthy texture.  I mashed potatoes in a stable, sturdy pot.  I helped walk my wife through a perfect carving of the Norman Rockwell bird.  Knifes I handle, heat I manage, dishes stay intact.

Ordinarily, I’m not worried about stabbing myself.

Last night, I had a moment (after the finger nicking and before The Incident) when I wondered if I would call an ambulance or drive to the hospital if I sliced my finger open with my freshly sharpened chef’s knife.  Fortunately, it was the dull paring knife that slid off of the turkey and plunged into my stomach.  Stabbed.  I managed to stab myself directly in the stomach. The knife skidded off the bird, my wrist bumped the edge of the sink, the knife slammed into my shirt and punctured my stomach and then…stopped.

So here’s what I’m thankful for: that I am too lazy to sharpen the paring knife like I do the other knives; that I had a paint stained t-shirt on with a thick dried wad of paint right over the belly; that I am too lazy to use a rag when I paint; that I was using my non-dominant, less-strong hand; that my general high-stress personality caused me to freak over dropping the turkey (the dirt!) and simultaneously suck in my stomach; and, that I didn’t do more than draw a drop of blood.

Seriously.  Who stabs themselves at Thanksgiving?  Thankfully, we avoided a trip to the ER and a home evisceration.  We’ve a lot to be grateful for.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33863680/ns/health-health_care/

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34019606/ns/health-health_care/

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34024233/ns/health-health_care/ (This is an enlightened opinion piece.)

Have money? You can actually see your doctor. If you’re willing to pay up to $25,000.00 a year for a family. Then see about reimbursement, if you have insurance. For the $1,500.00 & up a year, you get either a same day or next day, 30 minute appointment with your doctor. And you get their personal cell phone number.

Don’t have money? You go to the side of the office where insurance is taken. You see a nurse practitioner, or the new doc in the office. You wait for appointments, you get second rate.

Everyone LEGALLY in this country should receive the same quality, as well as quantity, of health care. From Obama, to Congress, to CEOs on Wall Street, to the migrant workers who follow the crops to pick.

It’s about time, too.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34089972/ns/world_news-weird_news/

People who want to live on “benefits” that others have to pay for in the form of premiums, should be busted. They should also have to pay the money back.

Even though this is Canada, the same thing goes on here. The commercials for the sleazy personal injury attorneys who promise to get a person worker’s comp should be stopped. For a person who is honestly hurt at work, there should be a form of compensation. But for the people who are too lazy to work, there should be nothing.

Personally, I still think there should be massive tort reform here. Get rid of the liability from dollar one & set thresholds that have to be met before a person can sue. And getting rid of the ambulance chasers that buy TV time by the bulk should be the first thing on the agenda.

But Congress is owned by the trial lawyers, so nothing will be done. People will still look for, and find, the easy way out. And they’ll be rewarded for their lack of efforts.

No wonder this country is going to hell in a hand cart.

I haven’t been there in over 6 years. I won’t step foot in one, much less give them money. This is a good example of why.

h/t to Stephen for the link

http://www.boxturtlebulletin.com/2009/11/07/16449

I remember when Sam Walton open his stores. Anymore, they’re nothing like what he built.

It’s not like abortion was made illegal again. Women who don’t take birth control, who don’t make the men they are with use rubbers, will have to pay for their own abortion. So?

I, for one, do not want my hard-earned tax dollars to pay for someone else’s abortion.

I do not buy “the mother’s health” excuse, as that can be bought. All you have to do is find the right “doctor”.

I don’t buy the rape or incest excuses. From Wikipedia:

In 2000, cases of rape or incest accounted for 1% of abortions.^[26] Another study, in 1998, revealed that in 1987-1988 women reported the following reasons for choosing an abortion:^[27]

• 25.5% Want to postpone childbearing
• 21.3% Cannot afford a baby
• 14.1% Has relationship problem or partner does not want pregnancy
• 12.2% Too young; parent(s) or other(s) object to pregnancy
• 10.8% Having a child will disrupt education or job
• 7.9% Want no (more) children
• 3.3% Risk to fetal health
• 2.8% Risk to maternal health
• 2.1% Other“

1% was attributed to rape or incest. Not even 3% because of the mother’s health. The rest of the reasons were simply choice. Why didn’t they make the choice to use birth control? Or, not have sex?

I never considered, during any of my 3 pregnancies, abortion. Wasn’t an option. No, we weren’t always ready, but who is? BUT, just because I consider it a non-option because of my beliefs, I can’t make anyone else live by what I believe it.

What I can say is this: If you get pregnant & decide you need to kill your baby, then YOU pay for it. Don’t expect me to. (Huh. If you were to highlight all the “yous” in the previous sentence, it begins to sound a lot like narcissism to me. But what do I know?)

Two days before guests come, the dog throws the contents of his stomach all over the house.  He uses his mouth and the rest of his orifaces to decorate our walls and carpets with the stinking perfume of intestinal distress.

Two days.

I know, that’s what you wanted to read today.  You thought, gee, maybe I’ll just get online for a second and maybe there will be something to read about bitter old woman, or better, inflatable lawn jesuses.   I’d like to point out that I am no longer the number one search result for said jesuses.  People, you’re slacking.

Although, come to think of it, maybe you aren’t slacking since a number of you are getting here by searching “describing indira gandhi”.  Nice to see I’ve moved past inflatable religious characters but can’t seem to dig my way out of dog shit.  Welcome to my world.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/33714528#33714528

Small children & pregnant women obviously rate lower, in their own minds.

Duh! And this surprises who?

http://www.thedenverchannel.com/call7investigators/21452502/detail.html

In my way of thinking, medical marijuana is just another way for druggies to put a happy face on their drug of choice. I know a person who smoked it for years & it never did anything for the constant pain that person suffers from. It’s bogus, all the claims. I voted “NO” on the idea.

So now that there are no controls over it & the system is being worked by junkies, why in the sam hill are people surprised?

Apparently, pretty low. At least, according to this:  http://www.thedenverchannel.com/money/21454244/detail.html

Ok. I get the reasoning. I do. Buy in advance, save all kinds of money & save yourself from having to make on the spot decisions that may not be what you’d pick if it were done before hand.

But seriously, WALLY WORLD SELLING CASKETS??????

Knowing what I do, my first thought is, after the gross out period, where are these things made? China? Oh hell no! Granted, the person in the casket is already dead, but what about all the things that could happen after burial? I’m not going to follow that thread, but it could get bad.

Joe’s comment: “Prices so low, your casket disintegrates in the ground before you do”.  I bet the phrase “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” wasn’t meant for the casket.

Not a fan of caskets? Don’t worry, they got you covered. 

They sell urns too.

At 3am.  Again.

I’ve always been a sound sleeper.  Well, “sound”.  Meaning, I went to bed, slept, got up and felt well-rested.  I sleep walk, sleep talk and apparently even sleep kiss my wife.  I suppose this isn’t really sleeping well but I always felt fine.  Lots of reasons for that probably.  But I’ve never been…awake at night.

Like tonight.  I am wide awake.  I’m wide awake at 3 in the morning.  Nothing woke me.  It’s lighter in the house than it normally is.  My grandmother is visiting and the night lights in the hall cast a weird pale light in a streak over the sheets.  It’s warmer than usual also.  It has been drizzling since yesterday and the clouds are trapping the heat on the ground.  I left the dog’s collar on and every. time. he. moved. he jangled.  D is in DC at a rock show, where she always is when she’s away overnight.  Perhaps there are more reasons than I thought.

I try to stay in bed, knowing that the laptop and the computer won’t help me sleep.  I try to meditate.  I try to think sleepy thoughts.  I might as well try to count sheep for all the good it does.  So I get up and go downstairs and watch infomercials or reruns of Chelsea Lately.  You’d think I’d be tired the next day, but usually not.

Is this part of aging?  If so, I’m going to have to start being more productive at night.  Think of all I could get done.

First they poison our pets.

Then they poison our kids with lead paint.

Next is baby formula with melamine in it.

Food contaminated with toxic chemicals.

Now its drywall.

Drywall that’s causing insurers to pull coverage if they find out the house has drywall from China in it, because of the additional claims it causes. Drywall from China was used during the housing boom because it was abundant & cheap. Now come the problems with it. Insurers are cancelling policies, or sending out non-renewal notices, with all of it being legal. They are denying claims as a construction issue, which it is. Suits against the builders are slow going. Once there’s no coverage on the houses, the leinholders will call the loans due. More houses will go into foreclosure because they can’t be lived in.

When will it all end? Has nobody learned anything yet? If it comes from China, yeah it’s cheap but it can cost you dearly in the long run. What is the point? How many people have to be made sick by something from China? How many pets do we have to lose because people don’t want to spend the money on food made under safe conditions? How many kids have to suffer the long term effects of lead poisoning because people don’t look for a country of origin?

The grocery store I shop at stopped carrying fish that originated in China because nobody would buy it. If people would get their intelligence working & do the same with anything else that comes from there, the junk would stop being brought in.

I would ask when the branch of the government will do something, but the rules are so lax, all their power has been stripped. Give the agencies that are charged with protection of the U.S. citizens the power & the authority they need to do the job & stop Chinese garbage from coming here.

BUY AMERICAN, PEOPLE!

http://www.tuscaloosanews.com/article/20091015/APA/910151252

http://blogs.abcnews.com/theworldnewser/2009/10/insurance-company-get-sterilized-and-well-cover-you.html

If you’re a woman of childbearing age, be prepared. You’ll pay almost 50% more for insurance coverage than a man the same age. The reason? Maternity costs. Insurance companies don’t want to cover you, if you have a chance of getting pregnant.

In fact, their other option is for the woman to be sterilized then they’ll cover her.

Congress is talking about how horrible it is, the way they operate. Well, a few of them might actually mean it, but the balance are owned by the insurance companies.

Wipe out the for profit companies. Put coverage in 1 place, available to everyone who lives here, for a price they can afford. A person shouldn’t have to work for the government to get good coverage. The taxpayers pay for the coverage for them.

Why can’t we have it for ourselves?

You might not want to come near me with that pricey electronic thing you’re holding.  If you’ve been near me long enough, you know better.  You know to keep stereos and televisions and light switches and appliances and even cars out of my way.  You certainly know to keep telephones away by now.  I’m like a walking electrical outage.

It hasn’t been bad lately.  I haven’t zapped the other phone (yet) and all the digital displays are working (more or less).  But this week has brought a higher than usual number of malfunctions into range.  First, the alarm clock jolted us out of sleep at 2:30.  Two things to know about this clock: 1) it is never set to go off and  2) it uses light, not sound to wake you.  There is no beep function.  Tell that to a glowing, screeching clock at 230 in the morning when you’ve been having a terrible nightmare about burglars and it’s coming true.  Then, I went to work and watched as the computers fizzled as I walked past.  One lost the internet, the next one’s monitor failed and the third froze and had to be replaced altogether.  I do sit at a public desk people, this can’t happen.  Books must be checked out!

These mishaps do not include the internal car lights that flashed repeatedly at me a few days ago, the stopped clocks in three of my meeting rooms today (including the one on my cell phone) or the ambivalent attitude all of my phones about receiving calls.  Tried to reach me today?  You didn’t.  But, I’m typing and no lights have flickered and I feel like that’s making progress.

You’ll have to suspend your disbelief here for a moment, but I can assure you, these electronic episodes only happen when I’m stressed out.  How self-centered you’re thinking (stop smirking and read)!  No one can make electricity fail!  Ha ha you silly thing!  As much as I’d like to agree with you, this has happened my entire life.  When I’m angry, lights flash or go out.  When I’m nervous, electronic devices flutter and fade.  When I’m stressed I walk around followed by a host of beeps as machines disintegrate.

Believe or not, this is noticeably better than exploding radiator and air hoses (‘91) shattering coffee cups (‘99-01), falling picture frames (‘95, ‘00), locking doors (‘95-98) and flapping blinds (‘92, 3,’5, 7 & 8).  Flapping. Blinds.  What I am?  The kid from poltergeist?  Regardless, this week isn’t a good week for you to show me your new iPhone.

I was reading the TPM site & like a masochistic idiot, I watched the interview Joy Behar conducted with Orly Taitz. http://tpmmuckraker.talkingpointsmemo.com/2009/10/orly_taitz_to_joy_behar_judge_who_fined_is_the_del.php

All I can say is: Taitz is a blithering idiot. This woman is a lawyer? How? Why? And why hasn’t she been disbarred? No, not for her idiotic beliefs. But for her absolute disrespect of the judges whose courts she’s been thrown out of.

It seems the only people who claim to doubt Obama’s right to the Presidency are the people who got in the military for whatever reason & now don’t want to go to Afghanistan or Iraq. Not that I blame them, but they wanted in for a reason. They got what they wanted, but don’t want to have to suffer the consequences. (Like a member of a union who doesn’t want to suffer the financial setbacks when they choose to go out on strike, so they want to collect unemployment while on strike. Ritter said no to that.)

There was an article I saw recently that a member of the California bar is going to try to get Taitz disbarred. I wish that woman all the luck in the world with that.

In the meantime, I need an ice pick. I have to get those images from the interview out of my head somehow.