Schadenfreude for Breakfast

Did anyone remember to bring marshmallows?

The definition of schadenfreude is, "the experience of pleasure, joy, or self-satisfaction that comes from learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures, pain, suffering, or humiliation of another." I had a big bowl of it for breakfast this morning and I must say it was even more filling than my usual oatmeal.

To be honest I only experienced the pleasure, eschewing the joy and self-satisfaction as too decadent, at least so early in the morning. But pleasure seemed appropriate while reading today's MANSION section of the Wall Street Journal, a part of the paper that reports on the outrageous homes of the uber-wealthy every Friday. Giving ample evidence that, with the exception of Keanu Reeves, one's moral compass wanes the richer one gets, it never fails to make me miserable. 

One house that cost $50 million and five years to build, yet burned to the ground in less than an hour in last week's Pacific Palisades fire, was described thusly: "There was a 20-seat theater, a temperature-controlled wine lounge, and a retractable roof in the primary suite for stargazing. There was a ballistic safe room where the owner could retreat in a crisis." The owner, was "literally in tears over the loss of antiques and art pieces that he had sourced from his travels around the world."

I'll bet many of California's homeless citizens are also feeling a bit of schadenfreude these days. After all, if their park bench gets destroyed, they can just move their shopping cart with all their belongings over to another one in the very same neighborhood, no biggie. 

Medical Marvels

I received an electronic message from my doctor's office today, alerting me to the fact that I will likely never see him in person ever again, unless I am at death's door. The email detailed all the new and exciting ways I can connect with my doctor if I'm feeling poorly, which clearly is a condition frowned upon according to said note.

I can reach him online to set up an in-person appointment, God forbid I should be that sick. No more waiting on hold on the phone! Now you just wait for the return email telling you when to come in, you should live that long.

There was more, all about how I could use their new service wherein I don't even see a doctor or nurse in person and just have a Zoom appointment. That would be great if I have a rash or acne or something that shows, but if my problem is a tummy ache, heart attack or migraine, then what? Oh wait. Then I can book myself an emergency appointment online. Well, that's a relief.

Basically, it's over for doctors. Their heyday when they were seen as Gods walking among us has passed. So stop sending your kids to med school and send them to Computer Code University. And for God's sake, don't get sick! And if you do get sick, just Google it. That's what they do anyway.

Man's Inhumanity to Dogs

How is this legal?

A current online video features a Chihuahua named Max being let outside into a snow-covered backyard to relieve himself. The voiceover is that of the owner telling the little guy to, "Go ahead, go pee." The dog's movements are clearly encumbered by the following articles of clothing: a knitted beanie cap, a full-body waterproof coat spanning from head to tail, and four rubber rain boots. 

The dog takes a few steps, lifts one leg and pees into a snow pile, then turns around and goes back inside. The owner can be heard saying, "Good job!" Granted I'm no animal psychologist but it was pretty obvious that the dog was uncomfortable and likely humiliated to be dressed up in what looks like a Halloween costume, and all for being outdoors for less than a minute. 

What people do to their dogs is criminal. They are hardy animals, meant for working, herding sheep, hunting and guiding. The most noble among them are first responders, searching through rubble for disaster survivors and locating lost children in the woods. Admittedly, those are rare breeds. Most dogs are pampered pooches treated like babies -- sleeping in cozy beds and dressed up in ridiculous outfits. The richer ones are often wheeled around in strollers intended for human infants and toddlers.

It's sad to see how "man's best friend" is often treated like his worst enemy.

Life In The Matrix

I wonder how any work gets done at any company when so much time is being taken up with changing their prompts and training staff. These days, without exception, every call to every business establishment, doctor's office or government department is answered by a recording that welcomes you, thanks you for calling, warns you that the call is being recorded for training purposes -- and by the way, what staff are they training? -- and then cautions you to "listen carefully as our prompts have recently changed." 

Coincidentally, every single one of those places I mentioned is always "experiencing higher than usual call volumes," even if you're calling at six in the morning.

Is this real life now? If so, I don't like it. Give me whichever color pill gets me out.

Why I Hate Advertising

An ad on Facebook features a young woman staring into the camera fretfully. She says, "If you're a woman who struggles to find a t-shirt that fits well and feels great, your search is over." Immediately I was alarmed at the thought of anyone struggling to find a t-shirt. I wondered, had I been using the word correctly? Did I not know what "struggle" really means? So I looked it up and found this:

"Make forceful or violent efforts to get free of restraint or conviction; engage in conflict; strive to achieve or attain something in the face of difficulty." How that could apply to shopping for an ordinary t-shirt escaped me. Are we talking shopping in a war-torn country? 

Yes, I am guilty of misusing and abusing the English language just like everyone else. After all, language is fluid. "Chill" can mean cold or it can mean relax. When people say they are "bone tired," their bones are not really tired. I say I love cottage cheese, but surely not as much as I love my husband and son. (Although I do really love cottage cheese.)

But back to struggling. The firemen in California are struggling to put out the fires. The Democrats struggle to discredit Donald Trump every second of their lives. The hostages in Gaza are struggling to stay alive. Those struggles are real. Clearly, finding a comfy t-shirt does not measure up. Which is why I hate advertising. (Look it up.)

Beware the Devils Among Us

According to several news reports, at least 20 people have been arrested for looting in the wildfire evacuation zones in metro Los Angeles this week. Which means that not only do we need to be wary of natural disasters appearing out of nowhere, but also of our fellow human beings who take advantage of them for their own benefit.

Of course, this is nothing new: Flawed people have existed since Day One if you believe the story of Eve and the apple. But somehow this latest bit of news seems extra harsh, what with so many thousands of people losing all of their earthly possessions in a matter of hours, leaving them literally with only the clothes on their backs.

The realization that looters are roaming the devastated areas of Los Angeles and picking through the smoldering ashes for whatever could possibly remain of value is an excessively bleak one. My only explanation is that some people are in service to the Devil himself and walk among us. Sometimes you spot them before they hurt you, but many times not.

Remain vigilant! Not everyone wants you to "have a nice day," even if they say so.

The Horror of Being Human

This morning I spent about four hours, as I have every Wednesday for the last six months, with a local woman who has Parkinson's disease. I met her when I responded to a call for volunteers to "keep a lovely woman company a few hours a week."

An average person

While I have come to really like this woman, her disease is so debilitating that there is little we can do together while I am visiting. We work on jigsaw puzzles when she is up to it. I fix her lunch and help her eat it. I help her in the bathroom. If she is well enough and weather permitting, we might go for a 10 minute walk outside. During the summer we sat in the sun for about half an hour or so. (Daily sunshine is beneficial for Parkinson's patients.) 

This woman is 68 years old. She led a full life as an artist before this disease robbed her of everything. Her two grown sons live in distant states and do not ever visit. She has a sister who lives nearby who does not ever visit. She has two grandchildren she has not seen in three years or more. She had a vibrant network of friends in town who never, ever visit or call.

Her husband is her caretaker. He still works, besides doing all the shopping and cooking, and so must try to cover his hours away from home somehow. I am one of those ways, but four hours a week is a spit in the ocean. Here's my point: Human beings suck. What happened to all of her friends? Where are the two children she raised to adulthood? Why don't any of the neighbors she has known for more than 20 years ever stop by to say hello?

What do you think would happen to you if you got a debilitating disease? If you are counting on human beings coming to your rescue to help you cope, cheer you up and bring you some relief, forget it. Humans don't work that way. Just pray to God every minute of your life that you don't ever need to depend on people for anything.