Well I listened to the Trump acceptance speech. It seems an awful lot of things will happen on January 20 of 2017.
On that day illegal aliens will stop murdering American citizens
On that day people will stop shooting at police officers
On that day we will put an end to trade policies that hurt American workers
On that day Hillary will be handcuffed and put in a federal prison
Construction will begin on that day on a wall between the United States and Mexico
On that day terrorists will be deported back from whence they came
I might add a few things to my own wishlist
On that day Zillow will say I have made money on the condo
On that day I will get a raise from work
On that day my air conditioner will get a boost
Well we can dream. Next week the Democrats will get their turn in the beautiful I-95 corridor in south Philadelphia. I wonder if Hillary will have on a striped dress and say "Well they said they wanted to see me in stripes!"
Humor in uniform. (for those of you who used to read Readers Digest)
Living in a condo or an apartment you may think you are the king of your castle. However, all it takes to change your life is a new neighbor with kids, or a dog, or a boyfriend with a motorcycle. Suddenly you don't need to set your alarm in the morning. You wake to the sound of a motorcycle revviing. Or a kid screaming. Or a dog barking.
My life has changed. Well actually, my new neighbor has neither kids, a boyfriend with a motorcycle, a drunk ex husband who visits, or a rooster. But she does have a dog. Cute thing, actually.
I was trying to clean my porch (mini ten foot by five porch) and suddenly, a dog starting barking out of the place next door. His face stuck out of the French door. Then a lady in the garden below was walking her dog. The neighbor dog: Ruff ruff ruff. The garden dog (an older dog with a lower voice) : Ruff ruff ruff.
So now, at least occasionally I get to hear the new dog through the walls. Mrrrr. Ruff ruff ruff, followed by a woman's voice. "Shut the f--- up!"
Life is full of adventures. Who knows? She may even have a drunk ex husband.
For people with time on their hands and too cheap to subscribe to HBO or Showtime, there is always YouTube. Here are some of my fav YouTube series.
We can start with the Sherlock Holmes tv show. Filmed in France in the 1950's, it's not terrible. Half hour long.
Piddleass is an old favorite. The trials and tribulations of a twenty something living in LA. Her cat, Thor, her new boyfriend, her trials (her air conditioner broke) lead to a pleasant slice of life with an Oklahoma native now living in L.A.
A fun video series by an American woman who is living in Germany. Dos and don'ts about an expats life in Deutschland. Wanted adventure.
A wilderness buff currently in Vancouver island by herself (but who's filming?) and sort of fun, if she doesn't get eaten by a bear. The part where she swims in the alltogether covered by an electronic Canadian flag is cute.
Two women, one straight, one bi talk about meeting men. Just between us, a good guide to Millenials for human resources staff.
Unsolicited Project. Two lesbians talk about life. Occasionally they promote their movie, Almost Adults. Sort of fun. The blonde isn't bad looking.
One of the real big issues going on in the world this week is the Brexit vote on Thursday. Then, people from Britain may or may not decide to leave the EU.
This could be very bad for Britain: International companies might leave, They will surely have to pay tariffs on French wine and Italian spaghetti. It may also affect London's status as a world banking center.
On the other hand, many in the UK would love to get rid of those pesky French, Spanish, and Polish workers. And God forbid, they may have to allow in Syrians and Iraqis refugees.
I can understand the Brexit argument. Right now the UK has a lower unemployment rate than most of Europe. They have their own oil and a special relationship with the Commonwealth countries. They would rather have bureaucrats in London make their laws than bureaucrats in Brussels. "He may be a bastard but he's our bastard".
I understand the feeling about letting outsiders into a place. When I moved to Colorado in the seventies people muttered about New Yorkers were moving up the prices of everything from homes to ski passes. Perhaps the good old days were better. Americans complain about NAFTA, although we all eat a lot of Mexican fruits and vegetables nowadays without being aware of it.
At any rate the business community is very nervous this week. Britain could find itself with borders to Ireland and Gibraltar closed, at least till tolls are put in. Perhaps Britain could join NAFTA? They could make Bentleys in Monterrey.
Editor's note: Jade Joddle makes some interesting videos on YouTube. Her specialty is English grammar but she also dabbles in politics a bit.
Editor's note: I sold some stocks last week. I'm very proud of myself.
One of the annoyances of modern life is being woken up at four o'clock with a chirping sound. The first time it happened I thought a bird had flown into my apartment. Eventually I caught on that it was the smoke detector. I figured out it needed new batteries.
A couple of nights ago, at four o'clock in the morning, I was woken up with a beeping sound. Five beeps. I thought it was the smoke detector but, upon closer examination, realized it was the carbon monoxide detector. In multiple dwellings in New Jersey you are required to have one of these and once in a blue moon the state sends an inspector to make sure you do.
I said huh, it must be the fan is spewing up dust. I probably should clean the blades on my fan. I did that, and the next morning, at four o'clock the smoke detector beeped five times. Then I said, oh, I guess it needs new batteries. I put in newly purchased batteries. Five minutes later, it started chirping.
Maybe I have carbon monoxide I figured. However I have an electric stove, the a-c was off and I have no cars within 60 feet, more or less. Then I went on the Internet. No quick advice there.
Finally I got desperate and read the instructions. Nothing there particularly helpful. I looked closely at the device. In tiny letters it said one beep means an emergency. Four beeps means new batteries. Five beeps means it's time to get a new carbon monoxide detector. Guess I should get one of those. But it's almost new! Well five years old at the most.
I read somewhere that one of the rules behind Saturday Night Live is that they weren't going to be the
Carol Burnett show. As a youth I often had to sit through the Carol Burnett show because my mother thought it was cute, and at that time in history, parents still controlled the tv. I realized last week that I had become my parents. My generation had their own formerly hip stars like Tina Fey and Steve Martin. Now they were part of the establishment, just like Hillary and Bill. And we have our own show now, the modern day equivalent of Carol and Company. It's called Maya and Marty, and it allows us to enjoy humour that is more cute than funny.
Last night I watched PBS. There were more over the hill formerly hip stars like the Smothers Brothers and the New Christy Minstrels. An eighty year old Barry Maguire even sang the Eve of Destruction. It still inspires us.
Us baby boomers did so much. We ended the Vietnam war, fought in the civil rights movement and today even allow men to go into women's rooms after their sex change operations. Some of us have our pensions, and money we inherited from Daddy. We are now able to get lazy, pop our prescriptions, and enjoy the humor of Maya, Marty, Jimmie Fallon, and say to ourselves, "Boy, that Tommie Smothers still has it!"
Yes it's Memorial Day. I remember well marching down Main Street in Hackensack proudly wearing my Cub Scout uniform. A few years later I marched down Main Street in my Troop 5 uniform. In high school I was in band and wore a marching uniform while attempting to play the trombone.
My brother did the same. One year, having finished my gig at the parade, I watched the high school band play before the court house. It must have been hot because a girl in the band fainted. Then two of the ponies fainted. It's the one thing I remember about those parades.
One year, my father put on his VFW uniform and marched in the Bogota Memorial Day parade. Then he went to the VFW and, according to my father, ate six hot dogs, and according to my mother drank far too much beer.
That night Dad was a little tipsie and my brother and I did the honors on the grill. The folks bickered a bit and the old man slept on the couch downstairs. Memorial Day in America.
Now as an adult I don't get to wear a uniform, march in a parade, or even go to a hall. I am now a civilian. I wish I was a fireman or a policeman. They have all the fun.
Editor's note: A pony is an attractive high school girl who wears a uniform, carries a baton, and adds flavor to the day.
