While I Was Out

I spent three of my last five posts on the rather selfish subject of my sudden retirement, so there’s been some news released that I’ve neglected to address. As someone who still reads a physical newspaper (the Baltimore Sun), it’s my habit to take a snapshot of any story with which I think I can add something, so it’s waiting for my on Posting Day. Given the delay on some of the stories, I apologize for the untimeliness. I’ll start with the most recent.

This was from Saturday and is so on-brand. It doesn’t have mortal implications, but it’s one more piece of evidence that the current administration doesn’t care a whit about average citizens, like those this original rule was supposed to help. The Administration basically said, “We can’t have airlines actually paying people back when they can’t deliver them to another destination safely and on time! Think of the poor stockholders… haven’t they enough? Let’s kill the refund policy! After all, it’s just another Biden handout. Huzzah!”

And people wonder why Republicans feel the need to rig elections.

I think this is the Big Story of the Week. We have our government blowing an unarmed boat out of the water because they say it was full of drug runners (and drugs, presumably.) This was the announcement from TFG along with a logical response:

First of all, there’s a zero percent chance that TFG wrote that message. He wouldn’t know “kinetic” from Connect Four. Also, it’s free of his usual self-aggrandizement.

Given their history, I have no reason to believe this was a boat full of drug smugglers. There is zero proof or evidence left of any kind, and these guys have a reputation for turning bold-faced lies into an art form. Hell, they probably set this all up on Signal. They say it was a drug thing, knowing most people are like, “Hell yeah, why not blow up some drug dealers?” It sounds good to the MAGAs at the bar. They love that kind of big-dick posturing.

But here’s what bothers me: I think they’re setting the stage for continued “drug-dealer” bombings. Once we’re used to such occurrences, every perceived sea-going adversary of TFG can be a target. Every Democratic donor, journalist, opponent, or rabble-rouser can be erased under the flimsiest of excuses. Sink them in the middle of the ocean or blow them out of the air on a trans-oceanic flight, and there would be no evidence left to the contrary. (OK, there may be evidence for a short time, but it could be scooped up by the Coast Guard or Navy, whose leaders, now having sworn fealty to the Orange Menace rather than the Constitution, can dispose of it right alongside bin Laden.)

So, keep an eye peeled for more of these “drug busts.” If I were Gavin Newsom, I wouldn’t get on a boat again until this guy self-aborts via coronary.

In another 100% on-brand moment, the Administration just killed a local wind-power project. These guys don’t want to hear the first thing about solar or wind energy, because the fossil fuel industries have them bought and paid for to the extent that they won’t even fly a kite without a gas-powered outboard motor on it. They’re still pushing fallacies like not functioning in the dark or when it’s not windy. (News flash: It’s ALWAYS windy over the water. In my 60-some years, I’ve never been to a beach that wasn’t breezy. We need to harness that.) It’s a tremendous opportunity that we’re intentionally squandering, probably right up until Exxon –Mobile and BP acquire enough solar and wind-power equipment to corner the market. Other countries are leaving us in the dust because of our unwillingness to adapt to a new truth: that oil is finite and it’s harming the planet. The only thing standing in the way is the companies that make billions the way things are now. They’ll never give that up until it’s forcibly taken from them, which will be difficult because once energy-conscious Democrats outnumber Republicans, they can just start buying off Democrats. (I’m sure they’ve started already.)

I’ve been saving this since July, so I know it’s old, but I just loved this. The Fed Chair totally called out TFG on his bullshit right in front of the press corps. The Stain on Humanity was complaining about a cost overrun on a new construction site (and trying to place the blame on the Fed, since nothing is ever his own fault.) Embattled Fed Chair Jerome Powell asked to look at the data (which TFG inexplicably had with him) and then pointed out that the cost to which he was referring included a building that was finished five years ago, thus making the original assertions laughably false.

I just can’t believe that his team sent him out there with actual data. I’m sure they learned from that to only give him bold-font bulleted points showing nothing but conclusions. It’s not like he cares about how the proverbial sausage is being made anyway; he just wants the sound bites with which to attack people he doesn’t like. No need for the details. Like always, if he needs data, he’ll just make it up. No paper trail that way. Bullshit politics made easy!

Dipping My Toes Into Retirement

I’ve been retired for a week and a half now. What’s it been like? It’s played out in two different scenarios so far: before our kitchen and bathroom remodel started, and after. The work started last Wednesday, one week after the day I got let go.

For that first week, it was just strange, bumping around at home, alone, without any particular thing to anchor me. Because I’m such a creature of habit and routine, I realized that I’d have to create some new ones; I just don’t know yet what they should be.

For example, weekday routine used to be easy… wake up at 7:00, listen to the radio to get news and weather until 7:30, get up and shower, pour my iced tea, get my peanut butter crackers, and log onto my work website. Then work until 11:30 (unless some dipshit schedules another lunchtime meeting because they’re on Central time), eat lunch, read the newspaper, do my crossword puzzles, and go back to work for the rest of the day.

Upon retirement, I can get up when I like (but have still been close to my usual time, between 7 and 8). But then, do I shower right away? Should I have my tea and crackers first over the newspaper? If I do the crosswords then, what will I do at lunch? (I’ve been doing crossword puzzles at lunch every day since 2005.)

I’ve given myself at least one job to do each day, so I’d have at least some sense of purpose and usefulness. In fact, when Sweetpea left a note asking me to go get her some gas in the gas can, I was like, “A quest! The Fair Maiden needs my help!  I shall go forth and return with a tankard of liquid fire!”

So I’ve had some things to do, I just haven’t worked out the order in which I should do them. I guess the shower time can float; if my Job of the Day involves yard work, it’s better to shower later. But I think it’s best if I start the day clean, lest I start to forget about it and degenerate into an unshaven, slovenly mess.

It’s also been very nice to reacquaint myself with the 3:00 nap! That’s always when the head bobs and mental fuzziness would kick in when I was working, so I’d have to fight off the temptation to sneak one in. And with Sweetpea coming home each day between 4:00 and 4:30, I’m guaranteed not to oversleep.

Once the work started on the renovation, it’s been a different kind of strange. I have to ensure I’m up and ready by the time the workers arrive, usually between 8:00 and 8:30. Then the rest of my day is mostly answering their occasional questions and staying out of their way. It’s always stressful when they want a decision on something, and I can’t collaborate with Sweetpea. As a schoolteacher, she never even looks at her phone at work, other than occasionally at lunch, so I know she’s out of reach. So I’ve had to make some decisions on the fly and then hope I guessed right.

The biggest problem is that with the sink and counters gone, there’s nowhere to prepare food or clean up afterward, other than the bathroom sink, which is woefully inadequate. So we’ve been relying on takeout, grilling, and microwaveable dishes. Eventually, they put the counters in, but without the countertop, which is a separate operation. So the space is blocked in, but still of no practical use.

As long as my brother remains retired, I hope we can start meeting up regularly for lunch. It’s good to be able to pick his brain about financial matters. He’s the CPA and MBA. I’m the one with the Bachelor of Arts in Communications.

My old friend “Sitcom” Kelly asked if I was interested in seeing the Orioles/Pirates game here in town next week, and I’m like, “Hell yeah! Got nothing but time on my hands!” Of course, it’s an evening game so I could have gone anyway. And I may still go to the Thursday game, which is at 1:30. I always like to go to one day game a year, or as I call them, “Ferris Bueller” games. Last time I went to one, I even caught a foul ball. Danke Shoen!

So I have to wait until all the work on the house is done and things settle down before I can feel like a retiree. Oh, and speaking of, if you’re 50+, have you joined AARP? They’ve been chasing me for almost 14 years now, and I’ve never joined. I’m just not sure I see the benefit. Yes, they offer discounts, but many places also offer senior discounts. And they lobby for seniors, but I’ll reap the benefit of that whether I join or not. So for $50 a year, I’ve been putting it off. How about you?

I also won’t be able to rest easy until my severance is in the bank and I have new medical coverage. Sweetpea should be able to put me on her plan, which is through Kaiser Permanente. It’s a good plan, but it means that I’ll have to give up all my current doctors, because they’re a self-contained unit with their own staff and facilities. That means a new PCP, cardiologist, and eye doctor for me. And lots of introductory appointments where they want tests I’ve already done and draw conclusions I already know. And don’t even get me started on Medicare, which I’ll have to engage next year around this time. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

But that’s life, I suppose. No one promised us an easy path. Life is more like a zig-a-zag.*

 

 

*That’s a reference to an old story my mom tells about my dad’s Italian grandfather, who was a tiny little man and already ancient back when I was a child. He was telling Mom about how he can’t go out anymore because all the ladies are after him.

Mom: How do you get away from them, Grandpa?

Grandpa: I run away.

Mom: But you can’t run very fast.

Grandpa: I zig-a-zag.