The Way Life Shouldn't Be

During a recent televised debate between the two candidates running for Senator in the state of Maine, the Democrat (Troy Jackson) said to the Republican (Susan Collins), "Oh, shut up!" That's what it's come to in America's Vacationland, where the state motto is, "The Way Life Should Be." Only it's pretty much the opposite lately, and not just in Maine. 

Civility is a thing of the past, along with lots of other things that made life in America great, or at least more fun. Today I went into a CVS store and was saddened to see that the Halloween merchandise shared an entire aisle with the Christmas merchandise. I can remember when they were two separate holidays, each with their own special feeling and excitement. Now it's just different colored candies and wrapping paper, and they drag everything out at the same time just to make it easier on everyone.

I won't bother listing all the rest of what's wrong these days, since everyone is all too aware. Let's just say that our menu options have definitely changed, and all of the staff is busy helping other customers.

Dumbing Down

Sometimes it's embarrassing to be a human. Other species seem so much more intelligent, spending their allotted days on Earth looking for food, building their homes and enjoying nature, while so many humans waste their lives gossiping, spending money on total junk, overeating garbage and hurting others.

This morning I read an article, or part of it, about what the deceased actress Marilyn Monroe had as her last meal, 62 years ago. I don't know if it was written by A.I. or an actual person, but the comments that followed it came from real people who were hotly divided on whether she ate at a Mexican buffet in a restaurant or was it takeout she ordered and ate at home, and whether it included champagne or not.

Where and when did we go wrong? Here in Maine, stupidity has reached new heights with the current "sign wars" between the two political parties. Retaliating against a sign that has popped up statewide saying "STOP FRAUD, VOTE REPUBLICAN," the witless Dems have rushed out and posted signs that say, "STOP FRAUD, VOTE DEMOCRAT."

As I said, it's embarrassing.

Tit For Tat In Maine Politics

Here in Maine, long considered the ultimate autumn getaway offering fabulous foliage and luscious lobster, war has broken out between supporters of the two major parties vying for control of the state. The weapon of choice: political signs printed on cardboard and posted on every available patch of land allowable by law.

This is nothing new, since political posters first appeared in the 1820s during the presidential campaign of John Quincy Adams. In Maine, the ubiquitous signs dotting neighborhood lawns and crowding one another at major intersections are common. In the past they featured the name of a candidate with their chosen slogan and party affiliation. But this year things have gotten rougher, with nasty moves by party leaders turning the posting of political signs into a poisonous conflict.

Take, for example, a standard Susan Collins lawn sign, which simply states that she is "our senator" -- which she has been for 22 years. She's up for re-election this year and the Determined Dems want her out. Not content to just remove or deface her signs, they've gone a step further and actually printed smaller signs which they post directly in front of and below her name, to read that she "ACCEPTS BRIBES" or "FUNDS ICE." 

In retaliation, a small army of conservatives have countered with their own signs which read, "STOP FRAUD, VOTE REPUBLICAN." These have sprung up all over Maine seemingly overnight, causing outright hysteria among the lefties who have taken to Reddit to post their dismay, hurling insults at their opponents like hand grenades. 

So far things haven't gotten violent, but if you're planning on leaf-peeping in this neck of the woods, you might consider replacing that fleece vest with one that's bullet-proof.

On Doing Nothing

I am deep into a period of doing nothing and have been for awhile. In fact, I can sit and do nothing for hours at a time, much of it spent wondering if doing something is better than doing nothing.

I have done so many things in the past that have, in the end, mattered not one bit -- to anyone else and even to me -- that's it's hard to feel bad about doing nothing.

So many jobs taken, so many deadlines met, so many turkeys stuffed and laundry folded and paintings shown and presents wrapped and important functions not to be late for. Now I have little reason to be on time anywhere.

This time will pass, I'm guessing. Until then, there's always another painting waiting for more paint.

Maine's Uncivil War

Average Maine Democrat.

Reporting from Freeport, Maine, I have a front-row view of all the nasty action taking place in this war-torn state, especially since my husband is a General in the Republican Army. As the Town Chair of the "Susan Collins for Senator" campaign, Mitch has his hands full trying to keep the Collins lawn signs he and his soldiers have installed from being removed, defaced or completely destroyed. 

Just yesterday one of the signs was found on the ground, torn to pieces. It followed the MO of the typical Democrat around these parts: someone impossible to reason with because of their blind allegiance to The Party. These are, after all, the very same people who voted for Kamala Harris for president, if you can wrap your head around that one, and would vote for Socialist wacko Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, should she make a run for it in 2028.

Putting it plainly, most Mainers are mean -- in fact they should be called Meaners -- and the Democrats are the worst of the lot. A perfect example can be found on Hupper Island, an idyllic car-free refuge 90 miles north of Portland. About two dozen families spend their summers there, and Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. has been one of them for the past 20 years. Until recently he was a good friend to all the other islanders, helping them out in times of need and partying together at the Independence Day annual picnic.

Not anymore. These days Roberts is shunned by all, with some people insulting him publicly. One particularly vindictive woman has taken to kayaking back and forth in front of his island getaway with a sign that reads "Justice For All," inferring that he is responsible for justice for none because of his Supreme Court decisions impacting abortion, immigrants and transgenders.

Maine's state's slogan is, "The Way Life Should Be." That's definitely outdated. Instead it should be, "Life Our Way or Get The Fuck Out."

When A.I. Gets It Wrong

I was skeptical from birth, and it's only gotten worse since then. Of course scrolling the Internet has exacerbated my condition exponentially, until today I believe nothing I hear or read, especially in a newspaper or online.

This morning this headline caught my eye on an online news site: "This New England beach town is an affordable alternative to the Hamptons." Since  I live in New England and have visited the Hamptons on vacation more than once, I clicked. Alas, the story was riddled with errors. The supposed "beach town" in New England is not only NOT a beach town but it isn't in New England, not even close. 

Turned out the story was about Shelter Island, out on the end of Long Island in New York. And to make matters worse, it is not affordable at all, unless you are extremely wealthy. It is beautiful, I've been there a few times but never thought of it as a "beach town."  It's not at all as descried in the article that is printed as factual on a news website.

The other day I saw a video of a dance number in which Judy Garland was identified as Ann Reinking. The only thing those two have in common is they are both dead.

Shoot To Kill (Just Ask Tony)

Tony Soprano at target practice.

Officials of the U. S. penal system should all take a few weeks off to watch The Sopranos. It would make their jobs so much easier and cost efficient, not to mention it's damn good entertainment.

Yesterday the state of Tennessee tried to execute a woman who murdered someone 30 years ago, simply because she "felt mean" that day. (She slashed her victim's throat and crushed her skull with a rock, keeping a piece of it as a souvenir.) Imprisoned since then, finally the day came when they were to rid society of the soulless monster they had been feeding, clothing, housing and caring for over the last three decades, at the taxpayer's expense. 

They strapped her to a gurney and began injecting some chemical cocktail into her veins intended to shut down her organs, only it didn't work. She continued to breathe and could be heard snoring. So they wrapped her up and sent her to a local hospital, where I suppose they will make her well enough to try killing her again.

If only they had watched The Sopranos they would know that you can end a life in a nano-second with a bullet to the head, or maybe the heart. Bada-bing, it's over -- no fuss, no mess. (Well, some mess.)

Jesus, who's in charge around here?

Don't Point At Black People

Basketball player A'ja (not to be confused with Aja) Wilson signed a three-year, $5,000,000 contract with the Las Vegas Aces, earning an average annual salary of $1,666,667. In 2026 she will earn a base salary of $1,400,000, "while carrying a cap hit of $1,400,000 and a dead cap value of $5,000,000," whatever that means.

She gets all this money for running around a gymnasium dribbling a big bouncy ball and tossing it into a high, rimmed net every so often. Pretty nice gig, if you ask me. But wait, there's a downside: She will not tolerate anyone pointing at her! After all, she is black and we know that black lives matter, and pointing at someone must mean they don't matter. Right?

A'ja cries after the pointing.

Uh, no, that's not right. Okay, so being pointed at must hurt. Nope, there's no physical contact. So then what's the problem? Wilson recently had a cow because a white, male fan in the stands stood up and pointed at her after a player on the opposing team was cited with a foul, indicating it should have been her foul. 

A'ja was outraged and said later in a news conference that she "doesn't put up with that shit. It's unacceptable." So to be on the safe side, white people shouldn't point at black people, ever.  Apparently they don't like it.

10 Things About Coffee

Today is National Coffee Day. Not sure what that means, but I am having a cup of coffee right now as I write this so I suppose I am doing my part to celebrate. The following statements are the sum total of my thoughts on coffee:

1. I get out of bed in the morning to drink coffee. It is my main motivation.

2. People who don't drink coffee cannot be trusted. What's wrong with them?

3. I take my coffee black and immediately like people who do the same.

4. People who add cream and sugar to their coffee are not adults. They are having a baby drink, which BTW adds hundreds of calories to their diets over time.

5. If a doctor told me I had to stop drinking coffee I would get a new doctor.

6. Patrons of Starbucks who order specialty drinks like Spiced Pumpkin Lattes or Chai Tea Mochas or God Knows What Double Frappuccinos are posers.

7. I prefer American coffee to coffee in any foreign country I have visited, including all of Europe, Canada and Haiti.

8. Coffee does not keep me up at night.

9. Decaf coffee is almost always gross and instant coffee is truly despicable.

10. Coffee should always be brewed using freshly ground beans.

I'm Not Crazy

Not all Furries are cuddly!

I may be a lot of things, but crazy isn't one of them. I am judgmental, sarcastic and often depressed. I suffer from hyper-empathy and a firm belief that I know better than most people how to do things the right way, but as a native New York Jew surrounded by many Mainers who proudly declare they have never left the state, it's likely the case. And oh yes, I can be imperious.

But, as I say in the title, I am not crazy. And you know who is? Furries who identify as animals, and not just animals but stuffed animals, and transgenders who think they can undo God's work, and Maine's elected leaders who have chosen to distribute clean needles to heroin addicts and Narcan nasal sprays to opiate users to avoid an overdose. (That's called enabling, by the way.)

Again With Oprah's Favorite Mascara

Sitting in my kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, having been awakened half an hour ago by my 19-year-old Maine Coon who is slowly fading away and wants something I cannot give him, which is his youth and vigor, trying to ignore the throbbing underneath the huge bandage covering my nose as a result of Mohs surgery to remove basal carcinoma cells three days ago, I am confronted with a woman lauding Oprah's favorite mascara on my cell phone. 

I wonder, if I were to buy some would my cat get younger? Would the incision on my nose heal sooner than the 12 weeks I was told to expect? How, exactly, would it benefit me? And if it wouldn't, why do they keep hawking it?

Celebrity endorsements have always mystified me. This one's favorite lasagna recipe, that one's favorite bedroom slippers -- it goes on and on. Does anyone think that using a product with a movie star's name attached will improve their lot in life? And if so, who are those people? How does someone get that way?

My cat, and I say my cat but really he is my son's cat who we took in 16 years ago "for a few months" until he got situated, sits at the door, desperate to go out into the darkness where there might be rabid raccoons, or foxes, or bats, according to the local neighborhood chat page online, but I remain unmoved. I wonder, would Oprah's favorite mascara make him feel better? Maybe I should order some.