Monthly Archives: December 2020

 I remember at the end of 2018 thinking, 2019 has got to be better; and then at the close of 2019 thinking that 2020 has got to be better… well, we know how all this has turned out.

You won’t hear from me again before Christmas, possibly not before the New Year.  So let me now take a moment to wish all of you who clicked your way here the very best.  Some of you are still mourning over lost loved ones, and I mourn with you.  [                        ]  Others are about to introduce your children and grandchildren to the possibilities, the giving and the joys of this season, for the first time.  And many will be trying to keep themselves busy, or drinking wine, to compensate for the companionship they are now without.

Christmas is not always the happiest of times for grownups, but it does serve to establish what humanity could be like, for our young ones.  We need to keep modeling Christmas and the Christmas spirit.  What it’s like to receive is on the path to what it’s like to give.

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An Asimovian Dilemma

 

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• I was on a kick the last few weeks to reorganize our closets, toss old unused items, clean out the bookshelves and recycle clothes.  It dawned on me that this probably reflects an instinctual response to the chaos of our post-election days, my need for a sense of order amidst the crumble.  I must say that our own closet-cleaning has been nearly as satisfying as our national house-cleaning.

• Trump is plainly unhinged.  That a sociopath like Trump has tens of millions of followers is plainly frightening.

• The fact that I don’t engage on Facebook doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.  It just means that Facebook doesn’t get to decide how I interact with you.  On-demand mundane contact with one’s friends was never an expectation in pre-social-media days.  So what changed?

• My spouse idly asks me one evening, would I ever get a tattoo?  I say, sure.  So she asks, of what?  And I answer, of a tattoo.

• You know life is stressful when watching Judge Judy feels like an escape from reality.

• My spouse said she would vote for me to be president.  I responded that she is the one who should be president.  She said, that would be scary.  I said, not really, you would just have to know whether to single-click or double-click the nuclear button.  We both grimace.

• The CDC just announced its priorities for what segments of the population should get the COVID-19 vaccine first.  From what I see, my spouse and I won’t be eligible until March or April anyway.  That’s OK.  We have the resources, and patience, to stay safe.  Unlike those who have to go to work, who have to care for others, who have to interact with the public, who have to keep the cash flow going to live somewhat-normal lives.  I don’t envy Biden.  Most of America is impatient.

• That the Beatles were a tight band, even at the end, can hardly be disputed after watching this video of the 1969 rooftop performance of Don’t Let Me Down.  What is disappointing, however, is that the late keyboardist Billy Preston, practically the fifth Beatle at that time, has less than two seconds of video airtime in a song that was carried by his performance.  My point: The Beatles were no exception in how egos rule in the music business, just as they do in every other creative sphere.

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