We're feeling a bit under the weather here at ol' Chateau Bluz. I came down with a cold on Friday night and I'm still working my way through it. I took a COVID test on Sunday and that came up negative, so at least there's that. This seems to be the kind of nasty chest cold I used to get every year before I started working from home. It'll pass, but I'm not up to putting any coherent thoughts together this afternoon, so here's a funny story from the Bluz Archives (about ten years ago) about a rather alarming dream.
The Dream
Great. Flaming. Jesus. I had the most unbelievable and traumatic dream Sunday night. Check this out…
I was playing soccer and got tangled up with another player, and we both went down in a heap. When I got up, I realized that “Bluz Jr.” had been nearly sliced off and was hanging by a tiny strip of skin. In fact, the top half came right off in my hand.
And I remember thinking (within the dream), “Damn, that’s the good part.” No guy wants to live without the Angry Inch
You know how we guys are about our junk. We’re highly protective of our little buddies.
(Disclaimer: Not an actual willy.)
Though clearly unhappy about my schlong being reduced to a schlort, I was remarkably composed about the whole incident, which had been surprisingly painless. (That should have been my first clue that it was a dream.) The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a sort of “common room” that you might find in the main area of a frat house. It appeared to be a house full of medical students. Perhaps I was playing college intermural soccer.
Anyway, with the better half of Bluz Jr still in my hand, and the other half suffering from boneus interruptus, I asked the room if they might be able to find a way to put this thing back on because I was pretty sure I was going to need it. In fact, I had to pee right then. There seemed to be a murmur in the room, as they discussed my plight and I considered what it might be like to live without a wang.
And then… I was never as glad as I was right then, to wake up in my own bed. An immediate examination determined that Bluz Jr was just fine. And all was well again in the land of Bluz. Even if he didn’t have anywhere to go just yet, he still has potential.
So now: WTF???? Do any of you amateur Freuds out there want to take a shot at what that meant?
Freud and So-crates… the Dream Team
First of all, me? Playing soccer??? I haven’t played a competitive game of soccer since gym class in junior high, and that was a one-off. Where in the hell did that come from? Just because I was a Mia Hamm fan doesn’t mean I wanted my lunch meat sliced.
My first instinct is to tie it to my experience of my boomerang relationship that just bounced out of the apartment. Could that have been my brain processing the loss of autonomy that the relationship represented? But if so, why did I have the dream when it was over, rather than when it was still going on?
Maybe it was trying to make me consider a life without meat.
Or maybe it was a message for me to be less cocky.
Either way, you can bet your ass I’m never playing soccer again.
Happy Christmas, my friend. Hope you're happy and well as we dive headfirst into the big holiday week. Whatever it is you celebrate, I hope you have a joyous one.
All my life, Christmas was a happy but chaotic time of year.
The Traveling Christmas Show
Christmas was always such a busy time, growing up. When we were little and still living in Pittsburgh, it was such a flurry of activity having our own Christmas and then heading off to both grandparents’ places. I know it was all pretty hard on my parents but as kids, we loved it! Three Christmas extravaganzas of cookies, good food, presents and cookies! Lots of cousins to play with! And did I mention the cookies?
My grandpa on my Dad's side always took movies… the old 8mm silent kind and he always used a movie light; a big, brilliant, blinding, white light. It was so bright we could barely open our eyes wide enough to see what we were opening. Then when it was over, he’d turn it off and the room would seem positively cave-like and we’d spend the next 10 minutes walking into things until our eyes adjusted. Too bad the camera was off by then… this footage would have been much more entertaining.
In later years, my aunt had those movies knocked off onto VHS. It was funny then to see essentially the same movie over and over again but with the characters aging by a year each time.
Hey, there’s a bunch of blinded kids opening presents...
Oh, look at the baby surrounded by wrapping paper...
Look who's coming in the door... Say hi!
Now it’s dinner time… there’s the table. Look at all the food.
Everybody wave… annnnd CUT!
Now it’s the next Christmas… look at the same blinded kids, eww, what are they wearing?
There’s another baby…
It's them again, coming in the door...
And on it goes…
It was agonizing to see myself going through all the horrid fashions of the 1970’s.
Several years of plaid pants… Auuuugh!
The "Saturday Night Fever" year of silk shirt and necklace… Gack!
The "Urban Cowboy" year with a freakin’ cowboy hat with a wrap-around feather the size of a vulture’s ass! Who did I think I was, Charlie Daniels?
Nevertheless, it was cool seeing my cousins growing up right before my eyes. In fact, we only got to see the cousins in yearly increments anyway, once we left The Burgh. (I was 6.) As the first-born of two firstborns, I was the alpha cousin and in later years, it was up to me to maintain order among the kids. That is where my high school class ring came in very handy. I learned from my dad just how powerful a good backhand flick of the ring was. In fact, I think I still have an ornate, backward “D” on the top of my skull from his Duquesne ring.
Once we moved away from Pittsburgh, my siblings and I got to enjoy a new Christmas perk… Christmas a week early! The weekend before Christmas, we’d have our own celebration and do the stockings, presents and the whole sha-bang. Then we’d travel to Pittsburgh for the actual holiday and make the Grandparental rounds.
The trip was always hell, especially when we were coming from Chicago (the furthest from which we had to travel; three bored, punchy little kids, fighting their seat belts and each other, trying to listen to a scratchy AM radio. Mom still smoked back then so we had regular noxious gas intervals. She’d crack the window, thinking the smoke would go out. Unfortunately, it was mostly the freezing air rushing in to spread the carcinogens around.
But it was all worth it when we got to my grandparents’ place for the best meal of the year: The Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes. It’s an Italian thing. There would be fried smelts and shrimp, fish fillets, heaps of pasta, plus chicken, wedding soup, and Lord knows how much other savory stuff. I’d eat until I couldn't move.
Later in the evening, after the dishes were cleared and the olives, celery, and cookies were put out, Grandma would break out the Bingo game. They used to play Bingo in the old days to kill time before midnight mass, but by this time they weren't going to the late mass anymore. Grandma would save up change all year for us to use for Bingo and we’d have the big family Bingo showdown.
I always liked it because it was something that the kids and grownups played together. Although one year that led to some not-very-kid-friendly terminology getting thrown out after a long, tension-filled game:
Cousin: BINGO!!!
My mom: Oh HORSESHIT!!
God Rest Ye Merry Merchantmen Years later when I was all grown up and managing a record store in Cleveland, the holidays were brutal. From the beginning of November through the middle of January, to quote retail legend Al Bundy, it was like “one long month… Helluary.”
As a store manager, I’d be working 12-16 hour days. The place would be mobbed… just accounting for all the money was practically a full-time job. (I do admit that it's quite a sight to see all that bundled cash sitting on the desk, awaiting deposit.) We would be so busy, I’d go home and collapse in bed and have dreams that I was still at work, tending the register and clearing customers. I’d wake up and be like, “Fuuuuck! I can’t even escape with sleep!)
I didn’t have any family in Cleveland. The closest kin I had were in Pittsburgh. So when we’d finally get permission to close up on Christmas Eve, usually around 5:30 or 6:00, I’d shut it all down, bolt for the car, and bust ass down the turnpike for Pittsburgh.
I’d get to Grandma and Grandpa’s house about 9:00 or so and Grandma would have soup on the stove and sandwich fixin’s ready. Grandpa would appear with a cold Iron City Light. After the meal, Grandma would tell me that when she heard I was coming, she got some Klondikes for me, which at the time, could only be obtained in Pittsburgh. They were always my favorite treat as a kid.
I hope she knew how much those Christmas Eves meant to me. It was like an oasis of comfort in a sea of aggravation. After a month of retail chaos, it was great to be able to settle into a big easy chair, chat with my grandparents, and just… breathe…
It sure didn’t take long for TFG to backpedal on one of his
biggest campaign promises.
It boggles my mind that anyone even believed this
promise, let alone voted on it. Just those who weren’t paying attention to
anything but Fox “News,” I guess. Obviously, there is no button a president can
press that lowers prices. And this Administration wouldn’t, even if they could.
Some of their biggest donors are the ones reaping the benefits of higher
prices. There’s no way they were going to give campaign money to someone they
knew was going to derail the gravy train. This was a bald-faced lie from the
get-go.
And let me remind you again, about who kicked up a huge
protest when VP Harris proposed an actual anti-price-gouging program. The
Republicans threw a fit, calling it anti-capitalist, pro-Socialist, and un-American.
And people really thought they were going to lower prices? His tariffs are going to make things even worse! Unreal.
There were more headlines last week that demonstrated whose
side Republicans are on. (It ain’t ours.)
They are doing the bidding of the for-profit tax filing
businesses and e-programs like Turbo Tax. It’s ridiculous in concept that we
have to pay extra to perform a task we’re required to do. And it’s not like it’s
too difficult to set up. It’s nothing complicated, other than it threatens the
interest of those who make money off of the basic act of filing tax returns.
It’s like this with lots of things. Maryland is one of
three states that prevents grocery stores from selling beer and wine. Last
week, our Governor proposed changing that, which I embrace with both arms and
both legs. Naturally, the liquor store lobby is up in arms about it and has begun reapplying the pressure that’s kept this development from occurring all along.
I get it, some businesses lose money. But that’s the price
of every advancement. Carbon paper
companies went out of business when copy machines were invented. Buggy makers
lost out when Ford started their first assembly line. Is anyone still crying
about cassette manufacturing plants going belly-up? It’s the natural order of
things. When better ideas come along, lesser ones fade away and their purveyors
adapt.
That’s progress,
as embodied by progressive people. And we all know who opposes progressives at
every turn, right? It’s the “populist” Republicans, who shoot down any idea
that helps the average population because the rich are making too much to give
up on the status quo.
They could shore up Social Security for the next century,
merely by raising the maximum income cap. But no, they want to cut benefits to us
instead. See how that’s better? They get to keep their yacht money and all we
have to do is struggle to pay bills and outlandish medical costs during the “golden
years” of retirement. That’s much
better for them!
Just wait for the next big tax cut bill. You’ll see, once
again, how the filthy rich get a massive tax cut and the rest of us get a few
token crumbs. Even after all the bad publicity from the 2017 version,
they’re all set to do it again. Our complaints are short-lived until we move on
to the next outrage, but the money lingers on.
That’s always how you know who politicians really work for… just follow the money.
It looks like we’ve finally gotten around to having Death
Panels in the healthcare industry, but it hasn’t turned out quite
like the insurance execs imagined.
Last week the head guy at United Healthcare was gunned
down on an NYC street in a targeted hit. Some young guy wearing a hoodie and
medical mask came up behind the guy as he left his hotel, and put three bullets
into him. Somehow, the assassin slipped off and has been on the run ever since.
You know, some stories just put a smile on a guy’s face.
I don’t see the killer’s personal reasons yet, but I’m sure we will in due
time. But it’s a good bet that United Healthcare gave someone in his family a run-around, possibly with fatal ramifications.
I’m not exactly tap-dancing over this story, but I’m not
terribly bothered either. Let’s just say I’ll treat this story with the same
amount of care and compassion that UHC exhibits when declining to pay for
life-saving treatments for their customers.
It’s about time some of these blood-sucking CEOs get some
skin in the game. They’ve become a little too comfortable screwing over their
customers in pursuit of even more obscene corporate profits.
These leeches are used to being the guys at the controls of the peasant catapult. Maybe a
ride or two in the bucket will change their ways.
I’d like to think that maybe some of these execs might
realize the kind of pain their company policies inflict on the public, but I
think it’s more likely that they’ll just raise premiums and get more security
for the corner office guys.
The older I get and the more I have to interact with the
medical insurance profession, the more convinced I become that the only
civilized solution is single-payer/Medicare for all. We’re the only first-world
country that has a for-profit medical system, so it’s not like it can’t be
done. It just can’t be done HERE because the parties who are making billions of dollars in profit will never allow such a change to happen. So they
buy presidents and senators to ensure that no such proposal ever sees the light
of day. Maybe executions ARE the only way…
Late Addition:
Welp, about 2 minutes after I posted, I saw that they
caught the guy. So much for being timely. Please note that everything
written above was before I learned the news.
“Missed it by THAT
Much…”
There was an article in today’s Sinclair (Baltimore) Sun
about how the DOGE brothers, Musk and Ramaswamy, want to bring federal workers
back to the office as a cost-saving and debt reduction measure.
Yes, that’s how wrong these guys are about how to reduce expenses.
They think a WFH force costs more
money.
Out of all this poorly-written “Sinclair National Desk” gobbledygook,
there is one semi-coherent statement and the article framers take it in the wrong
direction.
Senator Joni Ernst (R-Iowa) said “Something I’ve been pushing on is getting the federal workers back into the offices or eliminating the buildings they occupy.”
The correct answer is staring them right in the face. Sell
the damned buildings! A staff that’s working from home is far cheaper than
providing real estate and utilities. (They’re also happier and can be more
productive.) And then you have the bottom line gravy of the sales proceeds.
And I’d even wager they might know of someone with a real
estate background who might overpay for the property so he can put up a tacky
hotel on the site.
The thing that bothers me is that they’re pushing a total
logical fallacy. These buildings are on the books, period. Whether they're full
of people or not is immaterial… they’re still being paid for.
The problem is psychological!
They don’t feel they’re getting their money’s worth so they want butts in the
seats. Regardless of where the butts are, they’re still paying for the
buildings. So if they’re serious about cutting spending, the clear choice is to
sell the office buildings and develop better WFH strategies.
There’s one thing to remember about all this fake “waste-cutting”
the Republicans are pushing. It’s not to cut the deficit, it’s to pretend these
cuts will pay for the massive tax cut for the 1% that they’re about to unleash.
Republicans don’t give a shit about the deficit unless there’s a Democratic
administration. That’s when they cry for austerity. But as soon as they’re in
charge? Bring on the tax cuts for the rich and maybe, if you’re very good, a
few bits might trickle down to the rest of us. When it explodes the deficit? They’ll
propose cuts to Social Security and Medicare and the rest of the programs that
benefit the general public, but they never liked because they can’t easily skim.
Then they’ll worry about the rest of it once the next Democrat takes charge.
PS
Last week I posted about the infamous Hunter Biden Pardon, and how he
should widen it to include everyone with whom he’s related associated.
“President Biden
ought to leave one more pardon for the end of his term, covering his wife, his
other kids and grandchildren, his maids, landscapers, chefs, doctors, trainers,
valets, mail carriers, Uber drivers, pet groomers, pizza guys, soda fountain guys,
milkmen, and the lot. Call it the Pardon Me but Go Eff Yourself Act. Tell’em to
stick that up their transition.”
Now this week, there’s a movement coming to preemptively
pardon some of the other players in TFG’s revenge fantasy, like Adam
Schiff, Liz Cheney, and Dr. Fauci.
I agree with this course of action as well. These people
have committed no crime other than daring to disagree with the new emperor. If
the Republicans can proclaim that they want revenge trials of their political
opponents, the least we can do is defend our own. Not that it’s being seen that
way by the Republicans. Hoo-boy no. It’s the end of the justice system, to
them. (As if their guy hasn’t done enough damage.)
But that’s what these people do… they loudly go on
offense and then cry when their enemies play defense.
PPS
The week before that, I posted about shrinkflation and how everyday we’re getting
less for our money. Over the weekend I saw this graphic that seemed apropos:
This is the old “olive jar” story living on. And I also
noticed another example… bacon!
One pound used to be the default size for a bacon
package. They still have some one-pound packages, but over the years, you more
frequently see 12-ounce packages,
that look very similar to the pounders. I think they space out the bacon a
little more. The only way to tell at a glance is to check the net weight. And
how often do we really do that?
I was going to write about something different today but
then this blasted all over the news yesterday, starting with NBC breaking into
football coverage with their “OMG It’s A
Special Report! Batten Down the Hatches, Kiss Your Loved Ones Goodbye and
Gather ‘Round the TV” news alert.
I was like, “Aw
crap, what’s he done now?” assuming it would be about a new atrocity from
TFG.
Then it turned out to be “Biden pardons his son,” and I thought, “Meh, whatever. It’s about time.”
Yes, despite prior declarations to the contrary, the
President pardoned his long-suffering son from the phony-baloney gun and tax
charges, and anything else the next Administration can pretend was a crime.
I thought Biden’s statement made perfect sense. He told
it like it is, that his son didn’t deserve to get locked up for “crimes” that
no one else who wasn’t named Biden would ever be. And with the next last administration
openly declaring legal war on “enemies,” who knows what they’d twist into the
next biggest criminal conspiracy?
I’d prefer that President Biden hadn’t spent the year
saying he wasn’t going to pardon his son, just because it leaves another door
open for Republicans to use for cover, like somehow it carried the same weight
as the tens of thousands of Trumpian lies told since his political emergence.
But a man can change his mind, can’t he, like TFG does
about abortion every time he speaks to a different group. Maybe it was only
recently that he realized in his gut that the next four years are going to be
perilous for himself and his family. (I predict that right now, Steve Bannon is
looking for a way to tie the president’s wife, Dr. Jill, to Dr. Fauci and burn
them both at the stake.)
What annoys me is the number of Democrats wringing
their hands over this. Instead of clutching their pearls, they should be going, “It’s about damned time.” I’m sick of the
Democrats having to follow rules that Republicans ignore. TFG was looking to
pardon his own damned self! You know he’d pardon his kids too. (Well, Ivanka, anyway.)
I already see conservative friends on Facebook going, “Oh, what about ‘No one’s above the law?’”
It’s as if the power of the pardon only applies to one
side. If they weren’t complaining about TFG pardoning son-in-law Jared’s old
man for fraud and sex trafficking charges, and then nominating him for
Ambassador to France, then STFU about pardons now.
Pardon power comes with the turf and every president uses
it. TFG has already stated he intends to pardon all the January 6th
insurrectionists. What’s worse, ransacking the Capitol to prevent the legal
transition of power, or messing up your taxes (and then fixing them) and fudging
a gun ownership permit? One of these things is not like the other.
Republicans haven’t played nice in the past and we know
they’re going to be worse in the future. It doesn’t matter what Democrats do,
Republicans will oppose it out of reflex. When Biden pardoned the Thanksgiving turkey, I bet corners of the dark web accused him of
being soft on poultry.
I’m done with the Dems being expected to do the “honorable”
thing while the other side just laughs and does whatever it wants, usually to
enrich themselves or provoke their opposition. It they’re going to pursue a
policy that the president gets to do whatever he wants without fear of
prosecution, then the same goes for the sitting president. Not that he’s even
doing anything illegal; he’s doing exactly what every previous president has
done, other than the part about the pardonee being family. But that’s really
the inevitable result of pursuing purely political prosecutions. Hunter Biden
has zero effect on anything in this country. The only reason they even looked
at him was because they couldn’t find anything on his old man. Meanwhile, the crimes TFG
was engaging in had huge monetary and national security repercussions, as well as physical
harm done to others. No matter how people twist words, it’s just not the same.
President Biden ought to leave one more pardon for the
end of his term, covering his wife, his other kids and grandchildren, his maids,
landscapers, chefs, doctors, trainers, valets, mail carriers, Uber drivers, pet
groomers, pizza guys, soda fountain guys, milkmen, and the lot. Call it the Pardon
Me but Go Eff Yourself Act. Tell’em to stick that up their transition.
