Month: May 2020

It’s All In How You Slice It

Although 44 years speaks to a high degree of compatibility, F and I have several noteworthy differences, some of which I have discussed previously. I wouldn’t go so far as to say opposites attract, because we have a lot more in common than we have differences.

I actually am all in favor of differences, variations, uniqueness. Vive la difference, as the French like to say, although of course they would because everybody thinks the French are different, including the French.

As for us, I’m a procrastinator, whereas F is definitely a doer. In fact, if it weren’t for her putting a foot firmly up my, well, derriere, I would still be contemplating writing a blog one day, but here you are indulging me in the occasional dispensations I have to offer.

Our “message” area (actually, the counter near the phone) is littered with honey-do lists my well-meaning wife keeps jotting down, lists I keep meaning to organize into some sort of highly organized and prioritized system, perhaps even color-coded, but I can’t seem to find the time to get around to doing it.

Another way in which we are different is that she can fall asleep instantly, whereas it takes me at least a few minutes to nod off, unless I’m listening to someone explain their latest medical procedure in excruciating detail. She can doze off in minutes watching TV, admittedly a low bar in sleep inducement, and she can tell me goodnight, roll over in bed and start snoring softly before I have a chance to respond.

But the most significant difference between us, I must say, is in how we cut a sandwich.

I think I’m correct in saying that the proper, civilized way to slice a sandwich is diagonally, whereas F always cuts hers straight down the middle. Never mind that triangular pieces are more aesthetically pleasing than plain old rectangles, you get pointy ends to eat – and who doesn’t like the pointy ends of food that come in slices like pizzas, pies, and quiches?

I think how you cut a sandwich tells you a lot about your personality (I won’t go into what it says, personality-wise, when someone who on the rare occasion does cut my sandwich for me does so in a non-diagonal manner after years of gentle reminders). In this case, I think it reflects a profound display of linear thinking.

This makes sense, as least to me, since F is a numbers person, which comes in handy since she’s a CPA. I, on the other hand, am clearly more of a word guy. She thinks in logical, precise, straight-line terms. I can’t even draw a straight line, but I could probably describe one in vivid terms. She’s an artist at quilting, which requires an aptitude for sharply defined lines and exact measurements and precision, while I’m good at jigsaw puzzles, probably because they don’t require a whole lot of thinking, linear or otherwise.

Anyway, I like that things can be different and I like to be around people who are different from me, with different backgrounds, from different places and cultures, who speak different languages. Rather than be disturbed or frightened or intimidated by these differences, I find them fascinating. Homogeneity makes for blandness, uniformity, and let’s face it, boring sameness. Who wants to have a conversation where everyone is in agreement, no alternate perspectives, similar reference points, the same opinions, all us nodding along, yep, I agree, no dispute here, can’t find fault with what you’re saying, blah, blah, blah, baaa, baaa baaa.

Of course, differences aren’t always celebrated the way they should be in a country like ours that is supposed to be a beacon of diversity. So to that I just say va te faire foutre if you can’t appreciate people’s differences.

Oh, and pardon my French.

Not A Good Year So Far

I used to be a much more cynical person, a trait that sort of went hand in hand with being a working journalist, when you were constantly exposed to the sordid underbelly of the human condition with such things as politics, crime and punishment, corruption, and ghastly school board meetings. (I know what some of you are thinking: Didn’t you mostly ply your trade as a journalist in a small town, so how bad could it be? Yes, I did, and yes, small towns have sordid underbellies, too. I could tell you stories about underbellies, sordid and otherwise, but now is not the time.)

When I stopped being a journalist, my cynicism eased up, and when I stopped working I transitioned to being more of an optimist about the human condition, although some people – particularly the one I live with – would perhaps disagree. (And, yes, some of this can be attributed to the fact that I haven’t been to a school board meeting in a long time.) 

But, man, it’s hard not to be a pessimist now. This has not been a good year. In fact, it has been a year so far plagued with, well, plagues.

We all are aware, obviously, of the coronavirus that has reached pandemic stage across the world. But have you noticed all the other, um, scourges that are occurring on a regular basis? Let’s review:

First there is the phenomenon I’ll call Critters Gone Crazy. A couple of weeks ago, news came out about an invasive bug species nicknamed “murder hornets” that slaughters honeybees and can be deadly to humans. Then came the 17-year locusts about to ravage the the countryside of Virginia and North Carolina. Now there are giant gypsy moths set to “cause serious, widespread damage to our country’s landscape and natural resources,” according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

And, of course, the stink bugs are still plaguing us here at our house.

Then there are the rampantly obtuse politicians, who admittedly are sometimes indistinguishable from annoying pestilential insects. Many lawmakers are openly encouraging people to break the law by disregarding rules and guidelines designed to keep us all safe. Leaders who we hope will set an example for us refuse to wear masks, congregate in crowds, somehow seem to get haircuts and, of course, say amazingly stupid shit.

Here’s former Republican Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey urging an end to stay-at-home orders and, clearly, confusing the party of life with being the life of the party: “Of course, everybody wants to save every life they can – but the question is, towards what end, ultimately?”

Alex Azar, the U.S. secretary of health and human services, said this in casually dismissing concerns about Americans who flout the federal government’s bank robbery laws – oops, I mean social distancing guidelines: “That’s part of the freedom that we have here in America.”

Then there’s this: “When you test, you have a case. When you test, you find something is wrong with people. If we didn’t do any testing, we would have very few cases.”

I don’t think I have to tell you which politician said that.

Which brings us to the appallingly stupid members of the public. These are the people who won’t just take prudent precautions not to sicken others, but will shoot, push, and punch others or tote around automatic weapons in protest of their right to spread a deadly disease. Alas, when those bozos get sick, at-risk health-care professionals don’t have the freedom not to treat them.

Then there are those nincompoops who see this crisis as an opportunity to take advantage of the times. Fortunately, karma is sometimes still a bitch, as witnessed by the witless woman who entered a closed-for-coronavirus Yellowstone Park and promptly fell into a hot spring while taking a picture.

Finally, there’s the weather. Need I point out that hurricane season has already begun with our first tropical storm. We’ve already had killer tornados plus some winter storms in spring, and I’m sure we can look forward to the usual allotment of floods, fires, droughts, cataclysmic storms and other assorted raging, relentless meteorological phenomenon that seems to be our new normal.

Yes, 2020 may very well go down as the Year of the Plagues, plural. Oh, and speaking of plagues, have I mentioned this is an election year?