A rainy day during Covid

It's supposed to rain all day and I am stuck at home. So far,  I've been looking at Youtube. My latest find is about thirty days on antidepressants. Oh that couple that used to travel in Europe is working on their van. 

Turn on the tv.  Drew Barrymore is showing pumpkin recipes. Never a good idea when a talk show starts doing cooking segments. It usually means they're stretching to kill time. The next day Drew is dressed like the good witch of the East. Over the top. 

Netflix is showing the Queen's Gambit. Not bad, even if you don't know anything about chess. I love it in movies when the characters drink bottles of beer and don't burp. 

Every other commercial on tv is for a political candidate. I love political advertising. Myself, like most people, already voted. Today it's supposed to clear out so I can go shopping. Time to buy Halloween candy. 

Never put anything in writing

 In a previous life I was a big shot in a local public library. We had a new young director who wrote a rather complicated memo on weekend parking. I wittily wrote a satire on the memo and passed it around the staff. Said director saw the memo. She complimented me on my wit but said I should be careful in the future about putting satires of library policy in writing. A snide remark in the breakroom is fine but putting things in writing can lead to a fall. 

This takes us to the North Carolina Senate race. Apparently the married Democratic opponent sent out some flirtatious texts that found its way to the front pages of a North Carolina newspaper. Never a good idea. Politicians also need to be wary of cell phones that can turn into cameras. Candidates for public office and office wits should know better. 

I just voted

The day after watching the stimulating and erudite Presidential Debate I got a mail-in ballot. I voted that way in the primary election so I sort of knew what to do. I'm trusting enough to return it in my local blue box so the process should be finished by tomorrow.

I can sort of see why Trump is so opposed to mail-in votes. After last night's dismal debate I can see that the last thing he needs is for voters to vote today. There's always the chance that in the next five weeks Biden could be shown to have children out of wedlock or the New York Times could be shown to have printed a fraudulent tax form for our president. Unlikely, but possible. 

Ballots are interesting, especially for down ballot issues. I noticed that there were four people running for three slots on the Board of Education. I looked up the candidates on the Internet and noticed one of them led two Girl Scout troops. In a moment of petulance, I didn't vote for her. 

My final question was should I vote for xxx the Barber. What an intriguing name. He is running as an independent for town council. Looking him up on the web I saw that he has run for Senate and Congress and now was reduced to running for a local position. He has a long beard and probably could use someone in his esteemed profession to clean up his sideboards. If he stood for something like legalizing cocaine or giving the votes to housepets I might have voted for him. Unfortunately his only issue seems to be term limits. 

New Jersey also has a ballot question on legalizing marijuana. I suppose the state needs the revenue. 

Appreciating 2020

 Like 1929, 1967 or 2001, we are living in a year that will long be remembered in history. Yesterday the sky outside was white and I heard that it was because the smoke from Oregon had found its way to New Jersey. How unique to have white sky. 

Today I was driving around and I noticed how many circus tents were sitting next door to the parking lots of bars and grills. I thought nothing of it until I described the scene to a friend living overseas and he was struck by how weird the scene seemed to him. We take for granted the outdoor dining of our favorite haunts. Indoor dining is now legal in the state, however, so I am starting to appreciate what may be the waning days of tent dining in New Jersey. 

Let's not  even get started on the upcoming presidential election. Ad astra per aspera.

A bartender with a heavy hand

 

When I was home from college one summer I announced to the folks that a few buddies and I were going to New Milford for an evening out. My father was curious and asked, "What's in New Milford?" I said we were going to a bar where the bartender had a heavy hand. 

Apparently the thought made my father nostalgic for his Army days. "When we were on leave we would travel to a place way up the road to find a bartender with a heavy hand. It's always good to find a bartender who knows how to pour a drink."

Many years later I was driving in New Mexico and saw a sign as I entered a small town saying, "Welcome, our bartenders have heavy hands". 

Today, though, I was sitting under a circus tent and the drinks came out in tiny plastic cups. No room there for a bartender with a heavy hand. I can't wait til they come out with a vaccine. 

Southern Gothic

                        

Teenage bounty hunters is my latest discovery on Netflix. It is an adventure/comedy that coalesces around the major subtexts of Southern literature. It combines oversexed teenagers, that old time religion, guns, race, lawlessness and Southern cuisine in a brunswick stew of an experience. After watching a few episodes, the viewer can claim a deep seated knowledge of the culture of the American South. 

Like Faulkner, Carson McCullers and Tennessee Williams, this show demonstrates the dark heart of the American South by gazing at a typical Atlanta family and its twin teens and their bible thumping classmates. For fun and monetary gain they bounty hunt and experience carnal pleasures leading to the existential guilt that comes from departing from  the path of righteousness. 

Biden's grandkids

 

One of the cutesier moments of the virtual convention was the segment with Biden's granddaughters. Apparently the kids talk with grandpa every day and Mr. B always takes their calls even when giving a speech. 

I guess I didn't come from a close family but for me, conversations between my parents and their grandsons were rare and cursory affairs. A grunt or two at Thanksgiving dinner or a yes or no answer to a nosy question at Christmas was the extent of the communication between generations. I can't imagine how an unsolicited phone call to the kids would be received. Perhaps an annoyed response and a quick call to the parents that grandpa should get a life. 

Being cynical, I can imagine the kids calling Grandpa when they need a favor. $40,000 for a new car or $20,000 so the kids can stay with their friends in Monaco. Perhaps a friend who wants a government internship merits a call to the former Vice President. I guess I am skeptical of phone calls between rich grandparents and their needy grandkids.