The Ultimate Trip

Quite recently the spouse of a dear friend of mine died, after more than two years of suffering from several illnesses that essentially ended his chances for any sort of satisfying life. When I learned of his passing I was actually relieved, although the proper feeling to express was one of sadness, which I of course did. Still, I felt better thinking of his spirit as released into the Universe than confined and contained in a hospital bed.

So many people talk about things that don't matter at all and never go near topics of importance. For example, the mere mention of death is a real bummer for most conversations, yet it will happen to each of us and we are rarely prepared for it. Instead the chattering classes go on and on about transgenders and abortion and diversity and Taylor Swift and most of all, Donald Trump, all of which matters to some people on some low level but pale in comparison to the fact that our lives, and the lives of our loved ones, will eventually end, often without warning.

See -- now you are truly bummed out. Try not to be. As somebody somewhere once said, "Death is the ultimate trip; that's why they save it for last!"

One of the New York Slimes

Jamelle Bouie

It's so sad that the once Mother Of All Newspapers is now suitable to wrap fish in, if that. Since it's Sunday, the New York Times made its way into our home via my husband, who went out early this morning and purchased it so we could do the crossword puzzle in the Magazine together, a tradition of our 37-year marriage that may have to be discontinued due to the extreme nausea and conniption fits the rest of the paper causes in both of us.

In today's so-called "opinion" section, an overpaid and insignificant 30-something staff writer named Jamelle Bouie offers a hit piece on Trump that is childishly entitled, "Donald Trump is a Lazy Authoritarian." In it he produces nothing to support the specious headline, which was obviously designed to make his entire point in six words without requiring the reader to go further. His essay details his intense hatred for Trump, giving the reader not one piece of information backing up the hackneyed insults that constitute the entirety of the article.

Why Americans Are So Fat

A new supermarket opened here in Maine and my husband I went to check it out since we were in the neighborhood. While I had heard about Market Basket because there are others in our part of the country, I had never been inside one. I figured it would be the same-old same-old, but I was wrong. It was the same-old same-old on steroids.

Since we were just going to take a quick look around and leave, having gone grocery shopping the day before at our usual market, it was surprising that when we finally left 45 minutes later it was with three big bags full of food we didn't need.

It was exhilarating! It was exciting! It was enormous! Almost as enormous as all the shoppers who packed the place, their carts overflowing with fabulous finds at low prices. Personally I was attracted to the bakery, which boasted in giant letters, "THE BEST DONUTS." Who could resist that? (Not me.) All the fruits and veggies were so beautiful and displayed so artfully, they looked fake. And the meats and the breads and the fish -- everything was perfect and cost so much less than at other stores, only a fool wouldn't stock up.

The only downside was that the store is huge and none of the employees, many of whom did not speak or understand English, had no idea where anything was, so you had to wander up and down the endless aisles hoping to come upon whatever it was you thought you needed. Along the way, of course, you picked up some of this and some of that. My personal find was a piping-hot rotisserie chicken for $4.49, or less than a coffee at Starbucks! 

There was also a food court at the front of the store selling sushi and pizza and French fries and beef stew and soups and sandwiches and more, I couldn't get close enough to see it all because of the crowds.

I'm never going back there.

Jews and Bagels

I recently joined a Facebook group called "We Love Jewish Food," which I shall be leaving momentarily, like right after I post this blog. As an excellent cook who grew up at the feet of my grandmother, The World's Greatest Cook Ever, I figured it would be fun and even educational to read some recipes from other Jewish cooks, and even non-Jewish ones. 

Alas, that has not happened. Instead everyone just posts pictures of bagels! They talk about bagels incessantly -- apparently the Everything bagel is the most popular. Listen people -- real Jews don't just sit around eating bagels at every meal. In fact, this particular Jew has a bagel maybe once a month. 

That kind of thinking is very stereotypical (see illustration), like saying we all have big noses and are cheap. While my own nose is bigger than I wish, as it has grown over the years -- did you know the nose and the earlobes get bigger all our lives? -- it used to be small, and I am I far from cheap, in fact generous to a fault, you might say, considering I have spent many thousands of dollars on my sister-in-law and her three ungrateful kids over the years for Christmas and birthdays and have gotten in return only cheap crap from the Dollar Store that went straight to the trash, but that's another post. (BTW, they are not Jewish.)

Dropping Dead at the CVS

I went to the pharmacy to pick up my blood pressure medication. The clerk who came to the window almost gave me a heart attack right then and there. Without exaggeration, this is what he looked like: 

Medium height, medium build Caucasian, about 28 years old. His hair was a bright lavender and had obviously been permed. Both ear lobes were heavily pierced and punctured with two enormous reddish-black gauges that looked like blood clots. A thick, silver-toned nose ring with a downward-pointing arrow at each end exited his nostrils and scared the shit out of me. His cheeks, forehead and lips were dotted with five or six silver balls pierced through the skin. He looked, in a word, Satanic.

I had to turn away as I asked to speak with the pharmacist. He said the pharmacist was busy and maybe he could help. I wanted to say he needed help more than me, but instead I just said I'd wait.

I have no idea why CVS hires people who look like that to work in the pharmacy department, where so many of the clients are seniors. I wonder how many have died on the spot on that young man's watch. 

Which Threat to Democracy Do You Fear?

I literally struggle each day to understand how Democrats can find Joe Biden and Kamala Harris acceptable as rulers of our once-great nation. What am I missing? Are they on drugs? How come I only can see a feeble, frail old man who mumbles and bumbles his way through most public appearances and a truly ditzy woman who makes no sense whenever she shows up anywhere and tries to talk? And why do they accuse Republicans of doing the very things they are doing in spades? 

It's like those ink blots that look like a vase one minute, and then if you look at it a different way it's two profiles facing one another.

Admittedly, I have felt this way regarding many things before. Like does anyone now or did anyone ever think that TV personality Joy Behar has talent of any kind? Do people really not understand that abortion is actually the ending of a life, no matter their politics? How can someone believe that Donald Trump committed 34 separate felonies? Do gay couples who adopt truly believe that they "had a baby?" And who does not notice that Bruce "Caitlyn" Jenner still looks and sounds like a man, despite the costume of long hair, painted fingernails, face and eye makeup and stiletto heels?

I think if I were offered a dose of whatever those people are on I would swallow it down in a heartbeat, just to stop rolling my eyes so much that it hurts.

TV Series Review: CLARKSON'S FARM

Jeremy and Kaleb are quite the comic duo.

I heard about this series streaming on Amazon Prime by chance while listening to a radio talk show. It's not one of those "must-sees" that are advertised non-stop, which is why I am writing about it here. Basically, it is a must-see. A documentary released in 2021 and starring Jeremy Clarkson, who is a TV celebrity in England, Clarkson's Farm exposes the many hardships and rewards of owning and running a farm in the Cotswolds, a rural area in the country's northwest.

With his dry wit and expressive features, Clarkson is hysterically funny, even when he's just looking into the camera and sighing, which he does often. The supporting cast includes his girlfriend Lisa, who helps out on many of the projects including running the farm's store, and locals from the surrounding countryside hired to help turn a profit from the thousand acres. One of them is a 21-year-old named Kaleb who schools the 60-year-old Clarkson in how to do just about everything. My favorite is Gerald, an odd duck who handles the construction of stone walls and fences on the property. With his completely unintelligible country accent that neither the audience nor Clarkson can understand, still he is quite the talker and a very endearing character.

Besides being lovely to look at thanks to stunning drone photography, the show is also very educational. In Season One, which is as far as I have gotten so far -- there are three in all -- I learned how sheep procreate and give birth, how to get honey and wax from bees, which tractor attachments do what things, and how much the weather determines the success or failure of a farm operation.

Most nights my husband and I hurry through our dinner to get back to the Farm. It's a welcome respite from politics in the U.S.

Two Plus Two Is Five?

The dastardly, delusional and downright dirty Democrats must think that Republicans are as dumb as they are! In a new campaign ad hoping to convince Americans to re-elect a semi-demented, partially-Botoxed, lying, feeble old fool and his cackling, so far good-for-nothing partner in crime, they gleefully spread the idiotic message that Donald Trump is "guilty of all 34 felonies."

That's like saying if you stab someone 34 times and they die, you are guilty of 34 murders. Don't fall for it: It's all one felony, and for a crime nobody can name.

Sigh.

Speaking in Code

Me, lately.

It's clear that the Facebook bots have strict rules they must follow. So to avoid getting this post banned, I will be writing in a sort of code.  I like to call it the Rhyming Code. Just think of a word that sounds like the word I use in italics, and you'll have no trouble understanding it.

More and more it seems we are living under Potsy rule. I learned this yesterday when one of my posts was removed immediately, with no explanation other than that it was "against community standards." The post in question had to do with a political candidate, a whack man by the name of Hormel Pest. I did not malign him in any way but simply quoted some of his statements relating his philosophy and how he would rule as President, an office he is seeking in the upcoming election. I also used a photo of him, grinning widely so we could see the huge gap between his two front teeth.

But the Facebook bots found that objectionable, I guess, since I posted it three times, each time editing it to be less offensive to anyone. Still, it was removed. Also, at a whack preparatory college in Philadelphia yesterday, Resident Widen said that any problems facing the whack community are directly traceable to unfairness and mistreatment by bite Americans.

Meanwhile, down in New York City,  pro-Lamas protesters boarded subways and yelled things like, "Till all the Booze!" They warned all the booze on the train to get out now! They shouted, "It's too bad Bitler isn't still around, he'd get rid of all the booze!" And yet they suffered no consequences for their heinous actions.

As one of the booze myself, I'm worried. What's next? 

 

Like Fish In A Barrel

An industrious young friend of mine occasionally earns extra cash by collecting signatures for political causes and campaigns. In his recent quest to secure the required number of names to get Robert Kennedy Jr. onto Maine's presidential ballot he was met with scoffs, guffaws and insults, ultimately earning less than fifty bucks for himself over the course of several days. 

Now he is out doing the same to get Cornel West onto Maine's presidential ballot and he reports he can't get them fast enough. As he put it, "It's like shooting fish in a barrel. The minute I tell people who don't know anything about the candidate that he's a Socialist, they literally grab the pen from my hand to sign."

Cornel West 

Following is a bit of West philosophy: "West has called the U.S. a "racist patriarchal" nation where white supremacy continues to define everyday life. West attributes most of the black community's problems to "existential angst derived from the lived experience of philosophical wounds and emotional scars inflicted by white supremacist beliefs and images permeating U.S. society and culture."

Whereas Robert Kennedy Jr. doesn't like government-mandated vaccines.

The Unspoken Civil War

Happily, I recently made a new friend. We met kind of by accident and seemed to click, so we exchanged phone numbers and vowed to meet again. About a month later we had a two-hour cup of coffee at a Portland cafe. Again, we got along great and it was clear we were meant to be friends.

Yesterday was our third "date." We went for a long walk in a beautiful waterside park and talked about our past lives, catching one another up on pertinent information: I once lived in Utah, she had lived in Florida, we both have one son about the same age -- stuff like that.

We planned on getting together again to do a variety of fun things. The future looked promising as we both agreed we were likely to remain in Maine for the rest of our lives. Then it happened: She said, "I would never move back to Florida. They have a crazy Governor and the state has turned completely red. Now it's full of those horrible Republicans."

Stunned, I said nothing. We parted: Okay, bye, let's talk soon. But can we? How? She thinks Ron DeSantis is "crazy" and I think he is sane and fair and principled. She thinks Republicans are "horrible" and I am one. Why didn't I tell her right then and there? And then what? End our afternoon together on a sour note? 

Because we "horrible Republicans" are not that horrible after all, I let it go. But it's not going away.

How Many Genders?

Since the beginning of time there have been men and there have been women. Those two genders were mentioned in the Bible, and if you are a religious sort you've actually read all about how they came to be.  Adam and Eve they were called.

Across the entire animal kingdom, there are also just two genders in each species. There are no transgender lions and tigers and bears, no chickens or cats or dogs or horses. Or birds. Or zebras. I could go on, like Noah. But now, suddenly, starting several years ago but more recently expanding at a ridiculous rate, there are supposedly many genders. 

They're popping up all over -- people who defy categorization: Men wearing full face makeup and long painted nails and lots of jewelry and dresses showing off their muscular, hairy calves. They have beards and Adam's apples and long hair. There are women with no breasts at all and short cropped crew cuts dressed in flannel plaid shirts and big boots and sporting neck tattoos who are trying their hardest to look like Paul Bunyan. 

If we all had X-ray vision and could see through the silly costumes, it would be fairly easy to spot the different genders. There are just two of them. Two. There are men with penises and women without them. Why is it now so fashionable to say otherwise? What has happened to humanity and to sanity, and the sanity of humanity? Has evolution sped up to an incredibly insane pace for some unseen reason? Is it sun spots? Something in the food? Or from a lab?

I wish I knew.

Garden Widows

Everyone knows a widow. Some are Women Whose Husbands Have Died. They are the saddest kind and receive tons of sympathy from everyone, until they emerge from their grief and start living again and maybe eventually find a new mate. That's a happy ending. 

Then there are Golf Widows, alone every weekend when the weather allows. Their spouses have decided that driving a little ball into a hole with a stick from a great distance is more interesting than being with them. Since 71.6% of men in the U.S. are golfers, Golf Widows have plenty of company and thus usually can find a sympathetic ear from another one of the abandoned. 

There is another kind of widow that suffers in silence and thus elicits no sympathy from anyone, and that is the Garden Widow. I am one of those. During official gardening season I could drop dead right in the middle of the kitchen and Mitch would hastily step over me on his way out to "visit his vegetables while the light is good."

Or else he's already out there, preparing the soil, or planting the seeds, or weeding and watering, possibly mulching, snipping here and pruning there. Adding treatments for pests and diseases. And there's more weeding and watering. And still always weeding, the weeding, and finally the harvesting, the picking, the plucking, and well, you see what I mean. 

Sometimes I get out there and help but the bugs, the mosquitos, the bees -- I'm allergic after all. I carry an Epi-pen. I might die.

Okay, sure -- having the fresh vegetables is nice, but it's like this: Now we are eating cucumbers at every meal. Then it's peas, or tomatoes or lettuce and next it's squash and broccoli or carrots and potatoes and it's too bad if you don't want anymore, it's too bad if we've had them the last six nights, still you must eat, eat, eat them all. It's their time.

I love winter.

CNN's Election Interference

My husband makes me watch the Satanic network, CNN, every night. This usually necessitates a dose of Pesto-Bismol immediately afterwards. Mitch says we have to see what "the other side" is saying. What lies they are spreading. We also watch MSNBC, the birthplace of Satan embodied in Chris Hayes (The White Devil) and Joy Reid (The Black Devil). Those two make me wish I were capable of murder. Which I am not. I can't even kill a bug. But if I had the stomach for it and chose to completely ruin my life, I definitely would off them.

See what I said just then? Of course I could, but I never would -- it would be so wrong! This is exactly what Donald Trump said two nights ago on FOX NEWS, when asked if he would seek retribution for the last four years of the evil mistreatment he has endured from the Democrats if he wins the 2024 election. 

"When this election is over, based on what they've done, I would have every right to go after them," Trump told Sean Hannity when asked if he would use the justice system to go after his enemies. But he then said the suggestion that he would go after his political allies if he wins in November is "wrong" and "it has to stop." Trump went on to say that such a thing would be "bad for the country."

Over at CNN the next night, devil-in-training Kaitlin Collins played a clip of the interview, omitting the second part of Trump's answer. This blatant untruth was dissected by a panel of parrots expounding on how this clearly shows the danger of Trump winning the election. 

The worst part of it all is that so many people only watch the slanted left-wing media, literally shrieking in horror at the suggestion they also watch FOX to see all sides. Then they come away outraged over a wholly false story. Is this not election interference? 

Twisting the truth is CNN's stock-in-trade. They have no morals, no scruples. Do you?

Spring Cleaning All Year Long

Even if you are advanced in years (like me), you can greatly improve your life by doing some spring cleaning, no matter the season. Discarding old clothes that no longer fit --and never will -- takes a load off. The same thing applies to friends. Other people can affect us either negatively or positively, so it's best to be choosy.

Listen carefully. If you pay close attention you'll soon notice that many of your "old friends" have little to offer of any benefit. Many of them may be unhealthy, or even all the way to out of shape alcoholics or potheads who want only to whine and complain. This is why it's best to choose your companions carefully. I've certainly chosen unwisely in the past, which explains my first marriage and that one friend I had for 20 years who re-used a length of dental floss every day for a week. But hey -- I was young. 

No longer young, my requirements have tightened up considerably, which has resulted in spending most of my time alone and a lot of new paintings. But when I do socialize with the few people I know who aren't jackasses I am assured of a good time and even some new insight, or greater outlook, and at the very least confidence that good will ultimately prevail over evil. 

For example, I am certain that two of my current friends are not humans but angels. Seriously. They may lack wings but they are superior in all ways to the rest of us common mortals. Thus being in their company is joyous. I also recently replaced two mean-spirited, cold-hearted, humorless skinflints with two new women who are warm, funny, generous and kind. What a difference they've made in my life!

Now I just have to get rid of all those size 8 -- and 10 if I'm being honest -- pants staring at me in my closet.

Joe Biden's Ministry of Truth

Apparently the Democrats are using George Orwell's novel, 1984, as their blueprint for governing. Joe Biden and his unseen handlers at the White House -- a.k.a. the Ministry of Truth -- clearly believe the American people are hapless dummies. After three years in office and five months before the coming election that may end his administration, having turned our southern border into complete chaos that negatively affects the entire country following the calm and controlled situation during Trump's administration, Joe gets up and mumbles through a speech, flanked by ridiculously huge posters proclaiming "President Joe Biden Securing Our Border," like one might see in a junior high-school debate, about how he will now fix everything! 

It's laughable, except it's dead serious. How dumb do they think we are? Dumb enough to believe that those $50,000 styrofoam Greek columns flanking Barack Obama during his 2008 acceptance speech turned him into a mythical God? Dumb enough to believe that Joe never talked business with his son Hunter while he was Vice President and on the take from Ukraine? Or just dumb enough to believe that a weak, feeble, dishonest and demented old man could survive a second term.

Don't believe any of it. Go out and get a copy of 1984 today and you will finally understand the model behind the monstrous Democrat Party. 

You Might Be A Felon Too!

We are both Geminis born in New York City just nine days apart, but there's an important difference between me and President Donald J. Trump: He is a convicted felon and I am just a felon. Hey, who knows-- you might be one too. In fact, I'm betting you are. An article in today's Wall Street Journal describes some of the many ordinary paths leading to the dubious title. So far I've been down two of them that I know about.

First off, I am guilty of felony drug diversion for borrowing a prescription drug from somebody else. It happened a long time ago when I was flying from DC to Paris with my old friend Linda L. The plane hit turbulence and I freaked out. Fortunately Linda was packing Valium and I gladly sucked one down. (The statute of limitations would certainly apply here, at least in the old days before the justice system went to hell.)

I also might be guilty of tax fraud by possibly overestimating the value of my annual clothing donations to Goodwill. I mean come on, who knows what that stuff is really worth by the time I'm done with it?

Thus far I have not been indicted. But if Fat Alvin Bragg happens to stumble upon this blog, who knows. Please Alvin, no jail time -- I look really bad in orange. House arrest I can handle, in fact I've been in it for years and it's not bad at all.

Taking Advice from Stormy

Stormy, husband #2, and breasts.

The pablum we are fed by the media is becoming more and more distasteful, if not downright toxic. Of course there is the ridiculous statement, now the official mantra of CNN and the Washington Post, that Donald Trump is a "convicted felon." I say ridiculous because crimes that are classified as felonies tend to involve physical violence, or some type of action that can cause extreme harm psychologically. Examples of felony crimes include manslaughter or murder, aggravated assault and kidnapping. Notice that check-writing and non-disclosure agreements are not on the list.

Anyway, almost as ridiculous is the fact that Stormy Daniels, a former stripper and sex worker in pornographic films who is into her third marriage at age 45 and came out as bisexual six years ago, is reportedly giving advice to former First Lady Melania Trump. Stormy thinks "Melania should leave him."

Pablum is a noun referring to ideas, speech, writing, or other media that are bland or simplistic or that lack any real intellectual substance or value. 

Stormy -- not her real name -- has said that her relationship with Trump began at a golf tournament when she was 27 and he was 60. As she related in a salacious, televised interview with ratings-whore Anderson Cooper in 2018, Stormy "playfully swatted Trump on the backside" with a magazine he was holding. 

So let's get this straight: A young, trashy nobody --okay, she had already won a F.A.M.E (Fans of Adult Media and Entertainment) Award for "Favorite Breasts" -- grabs a magazine from the hand of a man 33 years her senior, a celebrity starring in his own TV show who had already built half of the city of Manhattan, and hits him on the butt. How nice. Then she accompanies him to his hotel room and has sex with him, even though she "didn't want to."

Not knowing Melania I have no idea of her response to such a suggestion, but if it were me, I wouldn't take Stormy's advice on what to order for lunch.

President Jailbird

In a twisted sort of way I hope that the deranged, Democrat-loving judge in NYC sentences Trump to jail for the sin of having extra-marital sex as a private citizen with a porn star and then 10 years later paying her to keep quiet after he decided to run for office. Surely he should be behind bars for that, right? 

After all, he's a danger to society who at any minute could keep something a secret from his wife and pay a third party not to tell, and the country would suffer for that -- almost as much as the random violence in our streets and the homeless vagrants sleeping in doorways in all our big cities and the growing number of teen drug overdoses and the high cost of living and the illegal immigrants swarming our borders. 

What a hoot -- imagine a President who is in the clink! Because you know he would still get elected.