MY eternity is dependent upon the ongoing process of focused recirculation organic matter thru the cells of various trophic levels. What I'm doing now is trying to align my internal energy direction for the unforseeable future, to get ahead of the decay. Eventually, I intend all my cellular progeny to prepare via loosely aggregate means to defend small 'd' democracy from the future tyrant organisms...sort of Standing Up To The Man-like entity in a way that makes him/it topple in the most comical way feasible.
I think some people lie because anyone can have reality - that lie they tell is a "reality" that is *theirs and theirs alone*, which seems to make them feel good, I guess?
Yes, on the "complicated" part of that, for sure. I have life experience with a couple of people (certain family members who will go unnamed) who constantly lied, and I always wondered how they were able to keep track of which lie they told to whom.
On the other hand, when they got caught out, they'd just try to brazen through it. Too much work!
Last fall, Mrs. Derelict and I were flying along in our little airplane. We were talking to air traffic control, and after one exchange with the controller my wife said "you're always so polite!" Which I thought was pretty funny given the context.
Roy starts today's edition noting Trump's "piggy" remark. As I've written elsewhere, what I found most infuriating about that episode was the fact the nobody in the rest of that press gaggle gave her any support nor gave Trump any pushback. In a world that valued decency, somebody should have yelled "What did you just call her?" And in the startled silence that followed, just pushed harder with "Really, what the fuck did you just say to her? Apologize right now because that's unacceptable by any standard and especially from the president!"
I think that kind of pushback would have 1.) shoved Trump into a corner that would have had him sobbing, and 2.) perhaps re-established some sort of esprit de corps among the media so that they would stand up for themselves instead of being slavish stenographers.
Anyway, I'm supremely thankful for Roy's efforts and the digital family that is the commentariat here!
I agree with all you've said about how the media SHOULD have responded. But this profession, at least in it's current iteration, not only spawned Nuzzi and Lizza but elevated them to the top ranks of political journalism. The rot is deep and broad.
all my wife’s anecdotes about getting harassed in public include strangers staring mute as if watching TV. Never any help.
Reactions to Trump are often like that, while the target takes the abuse.
I’m not sure journalistic ethics require one to watch him do the piggy things without comment. I understand they’d be fucked if they spoke up, but it wouldn’t be unprofessional.
Well said Roy, and Happy Thanksgiving/Friendsgiving/Day Off to all who observe. Even if you regard the day as a colonizer holiday (and you're not wrong), still put your feet up. This year I'm not cooking but going out to a restaurant, and let me tell you This Is The Way. I'm still in bed drinking coffee and watching kitten videos on YouTube instead of racing around the kitchen.
I feel that Trump's behavior is *SO* corrosive to our social fabric and to the sensibilities of even halfway decent people that it actually works as a repellent. A walking, talking tutorial on How Not To Act. There are too many reasons to count, and all of them are valid, as to why his poll numbers are tanking. But talk like this is surely one of them.
Thank you, I'll grab on to this as a slim reed of hope. Ten years of watching How Not To Act has maybe had a beneficial effect on the younglings, who still have the ability to change and develop (well, most of them, anyways, of course the worst suck up all the attention.)
Not everyone is so fortunate. Right. The great majority of humans who live now and who have ever lived have not been so fortunate. We were born in the right time and place to the right people. Our lives have been lived at, or very near the pinnacle of human privilege and comfort. We got the luck of the draw. It was hard to fuck up being dealt such a great hand, but certainly within our capabilities. Should we be thankful for that? Sure, why not? Should we not be thankful because our good fortune was paid for by a lot of other people's suffering? Should we just say, well, there was nothing we could do about that, and honestly, if someone had to suffer, better them than us? Or should we question how much all that luck and privilege has really done for us? Could we actually be better off without it?
You'll have to excuse me. For some reason I always get maudlin philosophical on Thanksgiving. Perhaps it's the change of season, the traditional coming of winter, along with the drugs and alcohol, just before the intrusion of an icy cold, pink, dawn.
The proper response to that shit?
Shut up and eat your turkey.
Ya pués, you don't have to tell me twice. I'm thankful. I give thanks.
I loved that movie, but my comment after watching it was along the lines of "I'm offended by how asinine they're being" about that sumptuous feast she prepared.
I've seen that film every Thanksgiving for I dunno how many years and I were I in that situation, I
doubt I'd hesitate to enjoy any bit of it (especially if it was being prepared by Stéphane Audran, ffs). However, I am convinced that late nineteenth-century dishes had even worse names, just sayin'
One thing I have heard from many different people - close friends to nearly strangers - since Trump, way more people drive like assholes. It may actually date from covid. I think that's when I first noticed.
You cooking today, Roy? I've got the small version of family - Immediate plus . No in-laws. A dozen people. Excellent Turkey , the usual trimmings. They will get here at 12, everybody gone by 2.
Looks like the sale of the house will go through. We have passed all the inspections and appraisals. The only thing left is the septic tank inspection. The verdict won't stop the sale. If it fails I have to pull 5-10 grand out of my ass and fix it. Honestly, we priced it assuming it will need replaced. It may pass,It works great, but it's 50 my ears old.. The hard part is I have a month to get out. We will be a cash buyer in a soft market . That should work to our advantage, big time. I may end up spending a month or two living in an RV with 4 dogs. In the winter. Help me Jesus!
I 'm thankful for my bountiful weed harvest this year
is a concept that, when related to septic issues (whether ears or years), I refuse to contemplate.
We are thankful that Metro is still running today, and we can wander down to Hamilton for lunch and then the Sackler [spit...SPIT!] Asian Art Museum and catch the eagerly anticipated Lee Kun-Hee Collection of Korean stuff.
There will be bundling – high temp today is 45º, with a wind to multiply the chill. So my main thanksitude is for a heavy coat.
The first house Mrs. Derelict and I bought we ended up calling "our vacation home" because for the seven years we lived in it, it managed to eat our vacation every year.
Year 1 was the rotten siding that needed to be replaced.
Year 2 was the failed water pump and subsequent redigging of the well.
Year 3 was the collapse of the heating plant.
Year 4 the house gave us a break, but having to replace my car ate that year's vacation.
Year 5 was rebuilding the rotting front porch.
Year 6 was rebuilding the rotted fencing.
Year 7 when we went to sell the place was having to get the electrical redone, followed by having to install an entire new septic system.
Oh, and we ended up selling that place for less than we paid for it.
We rented for the next 13 years after that. It was great! The rent never went up in that time, whatever broke got fixed by the landlord with no questions or costs. Very relaxing!
"Yay, I shall dwell in the rented house of my landlord forever and ever. He payeth to replace the roof. The leaking plumbing holds no fear for me. For I lay my head down to sleep knowing that whatever befalls my dwelling, it shall no trouble my accounts. Amen!"
They were good until they weren't. They were ultra-wealthy folks who bought a giant estate and the house next to it. They spent weekends at the estate and rented us the house just so the place wouldn't sit empty. So we rented it for $1200 a month, the landlord took care of everything, adn we all did our best to ignore each other.
Then his property manager showed up one afternoon and informed us were were being evicted because the landlord wanted to rent the place to a friend of his. Gave us 30 days. We waved a big-bore lawyer at him, which gave us 90 days.
So, we bought the place on the other side of the ridge--the place that looks down on him. We ended up with more land than him and a much MUCH better view than he's got!
Do you bitch about real estate taxes now? That's what always scared me away from owning a house, the fear of turning into the kind of guy who does that (oh, also the temporary embarrassment of not having half a million dollars.)
Be like the people in my town--bitch constantly about how property taxes are out of control--especially the schools portion of the bill which makes up more than 60% of the total. Bitch loud and long about that at every opportunity.
But also make sure you vote to keep each and every one of the tiny schools in town open--each school has its very own school district with all the attendant overhead that goes with it. Some of these schools only have 15 students! But we can't possibly consolidate these schools, so . . . those 15 students get a building that has to be heated and cooled and repaired; three teachers and three teachers' aides; a principal, vice principal, and attendant staff; supplies; and a couple of buses to pickup and drop off the students.
In our first house, it was fun for a year or so because I got to play Home Handyman and do manly things in manly ways.
By the time we got to the Great Well Saga, I'd pretty much had it with that shit. The nutshell version of the Great Well Saga: Our well was an artesian well that received every drop of rain that fell on the hillside above our house and across the street--probably 100 acres of land that all drained down as an small underground river to our well. When the 1920's vintage water pump finally crapped out and we replaced it, the well footer valve (which prevents the house from draining back into the well) got a bit of debris in it. The well was only about 12 feet deep, so I pulled out my shovel and dug it up to replace the footer valve.
Which I did. Then I filled it all back in. And two days later, the water lines kept draining back into the well. So I dug it up again and found that a tiny pointy pebble had punctured the house inlet line. I replaced that and filled everything back in.
A couple days later, my neighbor calls. He's getting sand coming out of his showerhead and WTF did I do to the well? Turned out that one of the pieces of slate I put in to protect the well footer valve had diverted the overflow just enough to prevent it from filling HIS well. So I dug it up again and installed a separate line to direct the overflow to his well.
Yeah, not a big fan of being Home Handyman after that.
Looks like you signed up for the ADVANCED course in home ownership.
"1920's vintage water pump finally crapped out..."
Just imagine that pump, laborin' away quietly for nearly a hundred years. Let's say it's slow, just 2000 rpm, runs just an hour a day, times 365 times 100, that's more than 4 billion revolutions!
When the pump initially started acting up, we called in the local water-n-well guy. He looked at the pump and decided he needed to get his father to help because it was clear the pump was very old. His father showed up, looked at the pump and declared he'd read about this pump, but had never seen one before because it was a mail-order unit from Montgomery-Ward and predated his time in the business--and actually almost predated him!
Hmm, wonder if that was the pump I grew up with (I think the house was built 1920 or so). I vaguely remember some repair or replacement, but it may not have been bad enough to recall more clearly. Or the pump may have survived 70 or so years before my father moved to an apartment. By that time, a buyer would have had to either be very keen on DIY, or willing to hire out work TBD on absolutely everything.
But we must have been lucky about the well functioning in my childhood (and I did grow up with tasty water).
Was thinking just yesterday about some worn out old thing I have not yet parted with, that it is an irritant in its reduced state, and then thinking that on the other hand, the thing served well for years and years, and I should be more charitable toward it. Self-humbled, I gave thanks and tossed it...
As far as the bad driving goes, my theory is that when the pandemic hit, and there were a few weeks of (unenforced) shut downs, the people who still went out and drove found themselves on near-empty roads. So they went for the gusto, and sped like mad. They never got over that taste of vehicular freedom, and others modeled themselves after it.
I started working nights when the pandemic hit, and when I was driving in, there were so many cars going well over a hundred out on 880. It was hectic! There I was, cruise control set at 68...
Reminder that those century drivers remain among the living only because the rest of us drive steady and straight. Were we to feint a sudden veer, or some other such unreliable move, them fellers be flippin' endos for days.
My sister passed around 4AM yesterday: she got 6 months more than predicted, after saying "Fuck this" to chemo...surrounded by family and feeling no pain is something to be grateful for...I am grateful for, as appalling as they might be, (and as appalled as some have been with me)my family. Her kids had brought the elements of the Feast they will share today..."warmly did the Fall feast furnish forth the Funeral table.." I've helped in her care, and as she was at peace, I am, too.
Our old gay guys Friendsgiving postponed because one of the hosts is in hospital with a hernia: and glad of the morphine...maybe Sunday.
Me and the kids are supposed to get together at my daughter's Saturday for family Indian takeout...but we unsure as to arrangements yet..so I swallow a bit more uncertainty.
I hope you all find things to be thankful for..
As to civility, I have determined to be a fucking ray of sunshine in all my interactions with, say, the overworked and abused clerks in the county tax office, where too many Fox addled elders come in pissed off and taking it out on the functionaries: instead of angry MAGAjackasses bouncing off the plexiglass like enraged copperheads, I'm able to be kind, patient, and humane to these underpaid souls..make it a habit to smile and be Nice, damnit! Sales people and just fellow customers, it feels good to be nice to them...
Maybe I can get back to commenting and participating in the discussion in my hamhanded way soon.
So sorry for your loss! Your attitude does you great credit, I find sometimes I benefit myself from holding onto a good attitude just as much as the people who have to interact with me do. I hope it is the same for you!
A peaceful exit is far superior to the alternative, I've seen both. We all board that bus one day, so we should all put some effort into being happy and spreading it around. You won't end up getting depressed thinking about all the people you pissed off. Happy Thanksgiving.
"We thank with brief thanks giving whatever gods may be/That no life lives forever/That dead men rise up never/That even the weariest river/Winds somewhere, safe,.to sea." -- Swineburne
In 27+ years in Japan, I've had turkey dinner 3 times (back in Canada). I've worked on Christmas Day at least 6-7 times (including my first year here, the first time in my life [age 40] that I wasn't home for Christmas--that was a real mindfuck/culture shock moment for me).
Would it be ill-mannered of me to suggest that living in Japan has made me kinda hyper-aware of Western bad manners?
No. Westerners bad manners are simply an observation like noting the sun rises or water is wet. Americans are bringing a new coarseness to everything, though, as Donald Trump gives everyone permission to be their worst possible selves.
If American coarseness were defined like sandpaper – you know, by grit size, Trump would be one huge piece of paper covered by a single big-ass boulder.
I just started reading Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of WWII, one of the many excellent book recommendations I've gotten from this place, for which I am thankful.
I personally care not for holidays and would happily forget them, tho I must say that when I was a public servant I LOVED working parks on Christmas day. Partly the double overtime, partly the mellow visitors and partly the occasional wackiness.
Greet sales people and waitstaff with a sincere “hello.” Consider yourself a guest in their house. Americans are terribly rude customers, at home and abroad. If you want to be rude, tell a bot voice to fuck off and get a real person on the line.
A long, slow line is an opportunity to practice patience and engage with wit the individuals around you, as your sociological state shifts to an aggregate and then a group, and finally to a social movement!
I used to think that Trump was just a freakish collection of gutter attitudes and appetites under a coat of Man-Tan and Hair Helmut. He's not only completely lacking in grace, integrity, virtue of any kind, but I don't think he understands what any of those words even mean. But he can't be that much of a freak if 70 million people...
Oh fuck I don't wanna even talk about him anymore.
Here's a link to a beautiful little piece of diatonic meditation that isn't Copeland. Happy Thanksgiving to Roy and the rest of ya's.
He plays Harrison's Piano Concerto, which was written for him. I assume it's on that album. Wild piece, completely different in most parts than the one I linked to.
Thank you, Roy. After plowing through innumerable Facebook and Substack posts telling me that since I'm not Elon Musk I'm to blame for all the problems in the world because I'm a queer liberal but it's not my fault because my secular humanist family brought me up all wrong but it's still all the more my fault because I'm not straight and filthy rich so nothing I can do is worth anything and I should just submit to my betters even when they persecute me because as a queer liberal I have nothing else to live for but being to blame for all the problems in the world, and the only alternative being to renounce everything remotely associated with racism and patriarchy and colonialism and live with my head turned back over my shoulder looking out for a committee of queer theorists controlling my every thought, word, and deed and submit to my woke betters because as a white male I have nothing else to live for but being to blame for all the problems of the world, it's good to be reminded that basic human decency is not a matter of ideology or identity. It's just that fifty years of culture wars have deliberately robbed us of the ability to recognize it.
Even the worst of our past presidents would put aside petty attacks on their political enemies during national holidays, but as with everything else Trump sets a new precedent (low). I would like to think that will change once he's gone, even when there is another Republican in office, but who knows these days?
After news came that they had found the bodies of Captain Scott and his companions, frozen to death forty miles from their next food depot, one polar explorer (not Amundsen, Amundsen was too gracious for this) said "What is there to learn from Scott? I don't think anyone will copy his methods."
I strain myself searching for another person close to the Ultimate Lever Of Power after the Queensman relinquishes it who would have the stamina and willpower to fuck with the nation Every Damn Day the way he does. I can't think of a single one who'd not eventually say "ah forget it"...
Is Trump really losing his shit?
https://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2025/11/taking-donald-trumps-evident-cognitive-deterioration-seriously
All appropriate thoughts and prayers for the Fuhrer.
One of my rebbes on being kind:
https://www.meditationsinanemergency.com/how-big-should-your-tent-be/
Enjoy the day, everybody.
"If you're not making someone's day better, you're making your own eternity worse."
MY eternity is dependent upon the ongoing process of focused recirculation organic matter thru the cells of various trophic levels. What I'm doing now is trying to align my internal energy direction for the unforseeable future, to get ahead of the decay. Eventually, I intend all my cellular progeny to prepare via loosely aggregate means to defend small 'd' democracy from the future tyrant organisms...sort of Standing Up To The Man-like entity in a way that makes him/it topple in the most comical way feasible.
I'm proud to be amoeban!
Where at least I know I'm free!
Semi-solid-arity Occasionally!
Making someone else's day better kinda makes your own day better, I think!
It most certainly does
Honestly, being a somewhat decent human being is just the easiest, lowest-friction way to get through life.
Isn't it though? Not being a jerk is comparable to not lying, which is just pointlessly complicated and too much work.
That's how you know with someone like Tubby, they lie for the love of it.
I think some people lie because anyone can have reality - that lie they tell is a "reality" that is *theirs and theirs alone*, which seems to make them feel good, I guess?
Yes, on the "complicated" part of that, for sure. I have life experience with a couple of people (certain family members who will go unnamed) who constantly lied, and I always wondered how they were able to keep track of which lie they told to whom.
On the other hand, when they got caught out, they'd just try to brazen through it. Too much work!
That "appropriate" is doing ALL the lifting, appropriately.
2 marks.
Last fall, Mrs. Derelict and I were flying along in our little airplane. We were talking to air traffic control, and after one exchange with the controller my wife said "you're always so polite!" Which I thought was pretty funny given the context.
Roy starts today's edition noting Trump's "piggy" remark. As I've written elsewhere, what I found most infuriating about that episode was the fact the nobody in the rest of that press gaggle gave her any support nor gave Trump any pushback. In a world that valued decency, somebody should have yelled "What did you just call her?" And in the startled silence that followed, just pushed harder with "Really, what the fuck did you just say to her? Apologize right now because that's unacceptable by any standard and especially from the president!"
I think that kind of pushback would have 1.) shoved Trump into a corner that would have had him sobbing, and 2.) perhaps re-established some sort of esprit de corps among the media so that they would stand up for themselves instead of being slavish stenographers.
Anyway, I'm supremely thankful for Roy's efforts and the digital family that is the commentariat here!
And I'm thankful for everybody here, too!
I agree with all you've said about how the media SHOULD have responded. But this profession, at least in it's current iteration, not only spawned Nuzzi and Lizza but elevated them to the top ranks of political journalism. The rot is deep and broad.
A lot of people are making that connection. Unfortunately none of them are big-time journalists.
That inability is surely in their perceived career interest.
"Difficult to get a man to understand something, &c"
"not only spawned Nuzzi and Lizza..."
That's it. No terrazzo for me. Just don't trust it.
Pizza pizza.
Ok, ONE exception...
Lavazza says "No coffee for YOU!"
Zasu Pitts be goin' "Always just ONE 'z' short"...
all my wife’s anecdotes about getting harassed in public include strangers staring mute as if watching TV. Never any help.
Reactions to Trump are often like that, while the target takes the abuse.
I’m not sure journalistic ethics require one to watch him do the piggy things without comment. I understand they’d be fucked if they spoke up, but it wouldn’t be unprofessional.
"At long last, have you no decency, sir?" was said by a freakin' judge.
No, a lawyer.
That's funny, he played a judge in that one movie I saw!
Senate hearing. No judge. Which movie?
I have to say, he made a helluva good judge.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anatomy_of_a_Murder
"That's funny, Mr. Derelict is never this polite when he's at home..."
I do wonder how many times he can do that before some sort of dam breaks. Today he called Jane Mayer (!) a “sick disgusting ghoul.”
Depressing: searching on this brings up a lot of trumpian bullshit, and not much straight reporting.
Well said Roy, and Happy Thanksgiving/Friendsgiving/Day Off to all who observe. Even if you regard the day as a colonizer holiday (and you're not wrong), still put your feet up. This year I'm not cooking but going out to a restaurant, and let me tell you This Is The Way. I'm still in bed drinking coffee and watching kitten videos on YouTube instead of racing around the kitchen.
I feel that Trump's behavior is *SO* corrosive to our social fabric and to the sensibilities of even halfway decent people that it actually works as a repellent. A walking, talking tutorial on How Not To Act. There are too many reasons to count, and all of them are valid, as to why his poll numbers are tanking. But talk like this is surely one of them.
"A walking, talking tutorial on How Not To Act."
Thank you, I'll grab on to this as a slim reed of hope. Ten years of watching How Not To Act has maybe had a beneficial effect on the younglings, who still have the ability to change and develop (well, most of them, anyways, of course the worst suck up all the attention.)
We made lo mein last night, and I think it made a bigger mess in the kitchen than the Thanksgiving stuff will.
( https://iamafoodblog.com/take-home-real-lo-mein-recipe/ )
Happy Thanksgiving Roy!
👏❤️
Happy Thanksgiving, all you wonderful oddballs!
Not everyone is so fortunate. Right. The great majority of humans who live now and who have ever lived have not been so fortunate. We were born in the right time and place to the right people. Our lives have been lived at, or very near the pinnacle of human privilege and comfort. We got the luck of the draw. It was hard to fuck up being dealt such a great hand, but certainly within our capabilities. Should we be thankful for that? Sure, why not? Should we not be thankful because our good fortune was paid for by a lot of other people's suffering? Should we just say, well, there was nothing we could do about that, and honestly, if someone had to suffer, better them than us? Or should we question how much all that luck and privilege has really done for us? Could we actually be better off without it?
You'll have to excuse me. For some reason I always get maudlin philosophical on Thanksgiving. Perhaps it's the change of season, the traditional coming of winter, along with the drugs and alcohol, just before the intrusion of an icy cold, pink, dawn.
The proper response to that shit?
Shut up and eat your turkey.
Ya pués, you don't have to tell me twice. I'm thankful. I give thanks.
Enjoy the day.
"Shut up and eat your turkey." well, I'm glad *you* said it.
Winning the ovarian lottery doesn’t make you better than others, just luckier. We do well to keep that perspective as we go about our lives.
"Shut up and eat your turkey." And keep a civil tongue in your head and do as much of the cleanup as possible.
Then sneak downstairs later on and watch BABETTE'S FEAST with a stiff drink.
Okay, but you misspelled "sneak downstairs later on and watch the Ravens beat the Bengals."
Oddest Animal Planet show I've ever heard of, but okay
Only if the commentary is in Danish... Cf: https://youtube.com/shorts/YBkzoUOrTgQ?si=Dgn3RncFTmq4eMJR
From your beak to G-d's ears... "Aaawk! NEVERMORE! Awwwwwk!!"
I loved that movie, but my comment after watching it was along the lines of "I'm offended by how asinine they're being" about that sumptuous feast she prepared.
Welllllllll... there was business about the highlight of the meal, that "quails in coffins" thing. Jesus Christus...
I'll admit the name leaves a lot to be desired, but I suspect it's quite tasty.
(I've had quail, at a grilling that some of my friends did that featured quail and ostrich - one extreme to the other! Both were delicious.)
I've seen that film every Thanksgiving for I dunno how many years and I were I in that situation, I
doubt I'd hesitate to enjoy any bit of it (especially if it was being prepared by Stéphane Audran, ffs). However, I am convinced that late nineteenth-century dishes had even worse names, just sayin'
Be thankful, but always work towards and demand a better future.
One thing I have heard from many different people - close friends to nearly strangers - since Trump, way more people drive like assholes. It may actually date from covid. I think that's when I first noticed.
You cooking today, Roy? I've got the small version of family - Immediate plus . No in-laws. A dozen people. Excellent Turkey , the usual trimmings. They will get here at 12, everybody gone by 2.
Looks like the sale of the house will go through. We have passed all the inspections and appraisals. The only thing left is the septic tank inspection. The verdict won't stop the sale. If it fails I have to pull 5-10 grand out of my ass and fix it. Honestly, we priced it assuming it will need replaced. It may pass,It works great, but it's 50 my ears old.. The hard part is I have a month to get out. We will be a cash buyer in a soft market . That should work to our advantage, big time. I may end up spending a month or two living in an RV with 4 dogs. In the winter. Help me Jesus!
I 'm thankful for my bountiful weed harvest this year
Happy Thanksgiving!
"it's 50 my ears old"
is a concept that, when related to septic issues (whether ears or years), I refuse to contemplate.
We are thankful that Metro is still running today, and we can wander down to Hamilton for lunch and then the Sackler [spit...SPIT!] Asian Art Museum and catch the eagerly anticipated Lee Kun-Hee Collection of Korean stuff.
There will be bundling – high temp today is 45º, with a wind to multiply the chill. So my main thanksitude is for a heavy coat.
Thanks update:
+Hamilton
++the Korean show
+++Metro keepin' us warm all the way home
-the Nat guards hangin' round the station, not talkin' nopenopenope...
The first house Mrs. Derelict and I bought we ended up calling "our vacation home" because for the seven years we lived in it, it managed to eat our vacation every year.
Year 1 was the rotten siding that needed to be replaced.
Year 2 was the failed water pump and subsequent redigging of the well.
Year 3 was the collapse of the heating plant.
Year 4 the house gave us a break, but having to replace my car ate that year's vacation.
Year 5 was rebuilding the rotting front porch.
Year 6 was rebuilding the rotted fencing.
Year 7 when we went to sell the place was having to get the electrical redone, followed by having to install an entire new septic system.
Oh, and we ended up selling that place for less than we paid for it.
Hearted for magnificent Debbie Downer bit.
Ain't real estate grand?! C'mon –AIN'T it???!!!
We rented for the next 13 years after that. It was great! The rent never went up in that time, whatever broke got fixed by the landlord with no questions or costs. Very relaxing!
"Yay, I shall dwell in the rented house of my landlord forever and ever. He payeth to replace the roof. The leaking plumbing holds no fear for me. For I lay my head down to sleep knowing that whatever befalls my dwelling, it shall no trouble my accounts. Amen!"
We rent because samesame.
Plus 3 blocks from Metro, 2 blocks from lotsa good food, and 2 differently-directed blocks from the woods.
Sweet! Can I come live with you?
Get in line, pal...
No room, now that he's filled the place with old lamps.
You've got a good landlord, I'd say!
They were good until they weren't. They were ultra-wealthy folks who bought a giant estate and the house next to it. They spent weekends at the estate and rented us the house just so the place wouldn't sit empty. So we rented it for $1200 a month, the landlord took care of everything, adn we all did our best to ignore each other.
Then his property manager showed up one afternoon and informed us were were being evicted because the landlord wanted to rent the place to a friend of his. Gave us 30 days. We waved a big-bore lawyer at him, which gave us 90 days.
So, we bought the place on the other side of the ridge--the place that looks down on him. We ended up with more land than him and a much MUCH better view than he's got!
Wow, did that ever turn! I guess the operative theme there was "enjoy it while you can."
Bonkers.
If allowing the missus to turn me from a renter to an owner doesn't prove my love I don't know what will.
Do you bitch about real estate taxes now? That's what always scared me away from owning a house, the fear of turning into the kind of guy who does that (oh, also the temporary embarrassment of not having half a million dollars.)
Be like the people in my town--bitch constantly about how property taxes are out of control--especially the schools portion of the bill which makes up more than 60% of the total. Bitch loud and long about that at every opportunity.
But also make sure you vote to keep each and every one of the tiny schools in town open--each school has its very own school district with all the attendant overhead that goes with it. Some of these schools only have 15 students! But we can't possibly consolidate these schools, so . . . those 15 students get a building that has to be heated and cooled and repaired; three teachers and three teachers' aides; a principal, vice principal, and attendant staff; supplies; and a couple of buses to pickup and drop off the students.
There's lotsa slots in yer narrative wherein I could drop an 'oof'. Take yer pick.
In our first house, it was fun for a year or so because I got to play Home Handyman and do manly things in manly ways.
By the time we got to the Great Well Saga, I'd pretty much had it with that shit. The nutshell version of the Great Well Saga: Our well was an artesian well that received every drop of rain that fell on the hillside above our house and across the street--probably 100 acres of land that all drained down as an small underground river to our well. When the 1920's vintage water pump finally crapped out and we replaced it, the well footer valve (which prevents the house from draining back into the well) got a bit of debris in it. The well was only about 12 feet deep, so I pulled out my shovel and dug it up to replace the footer valve.
Which I did. Then I filled it all back in. And two days later, the water lines kept draining back into the well. So I dug it up again and found that a tiny pointy pebble had punctured the house inlet line. I replaced that and filled everything back in.
A couple days later, my neighbor calls. He's getting sand coming out of his showerhead and WTF did I do to the well? Turned out that one of the pieces of slate I put in to protect the well footer valve had diverted the overflow just enough to prevent it from filling HIS well. So I dug it up again and installed a separate line to direct the overflow to his well.
Yeah, not a big fan of being Home Handyman after that.
Looks like you signed up for the ADVANCED course in home ownership.
"1920's vintage water pump finally crapped out..."
Just imagine that pump, laborin' away quietly for nearly a hundred years. Let's say it's slow, just 2000 rpm, runs just an hour a day, times 365 times 100, that's more than 4 billion revolutions!
Have to call in Carl Sagan for help with this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZmafy_v8g8
When the pump initially started acting up, we called in the local water-n-well guy. He looked at the pump and decided he needed to get his father to help because it was clear the pump was very old. His father showed up, looked at the pump and declared he'd read about this pump, but had never seen one before because it was a mail-order unit from Montgomery-Ward and predated his time in the business--and actually almost predated him!
The pump died completely the next day.
Hmm, wonder if that was the pump I grew up with (I think the house was built 1920 or so). I vaguely remember some repair or replacement, but it may not have been bad enough to recall more clearly. Or the pump may have survived 70 or so years before my father moved to an apartment. By that time, a buyer would have had to either be very keen on DIY, or willing to hire out work TBD on absolutely everything.
But we must have been lucky about the well functioning in my childhood (and I did grow up with tasty water).
I was gonna say...
Was thinking just yesterday about some worn out old thing I have not yet parted with, that it is an irritant in its reduced state, and then thinking that on the other hand, the thing served well for years and years, and I should be more charitable toward it. Self-humbled, I gave thanks and tossed it...
Obviously, this is where we the chorus all sing together "well well well!"
As far as the bad driving goes, my theory is that when the pandemic hit, and there were a few weeks of (unenforced) shut downs, the people who still went out and drove found themselves on near-empty roads. So they went for the gusto, and sped like mad. They never got over that taste of vehicular freedom, and others modeled themselves after it.
I started working nights when the pandemic hit, and when I was driving in, there were so many cars going well over a hundred out on 880. It was hectic! There I was, cruise control set at 68...
I hope your septic tank passes!
Reminder that those century drivers remain among the living only because the rest of us drive steady and straight. Were we to feint a sudden veer, or some other such unreliable move, them fellers be flippin' endos for days.
I think you're right!
Today I’m thankful nobody lives forever.
Me too -- especially that *I* don't!
Remember your legacy: the life force carries on thru cell walls thick and thin!
Ah, but what about my ESSENCE, huh?
My sister passed around 4AM yesterday: she got 6 months more than predicted, after saying "Fuck this" to chemo...surrounded by family and feeling no pain is something to be grateful for...I am grateful for, as appalling as they might be, (and as appalled as some have been with me)my family. Her kids had brought the elements of the Feast they will share today..."warmly did the Fall feast furnish forth the Funeral table.." I've helped in her care, and as she was at peace, I am, too.
Our old gay guys Friendsgiving postponed because one of the hosts is in hospital with a hernia: and glad of the morphine...maybe Sunday.
Me and the kids are supposed to get together at my daughter's Saturday for family Indian takeout...but we unsure as to arrangements yet..so I swallow a bit more uncertainty.
I hope you all find things to be thankful for..
As to civility, I have determined to be a fucking ray of sunshine in all my interactions with, say, the overworked and abused clerks in the county tax office, where too many Fox addled elders come in pissed off and taking it out on the functionaries: instead of angry MAGAjackasses bouncing off the plexiglass like enraged copperheads, I'm able to be kind, patient, and humane to these underpaid souls..make it a habit to smile and be Nice, damnit! Sales people and just fellow customers, it feels good to be nice to them...
Maybe I can get back to commenting and participating in the discussion in my hamhanded way soon.
So sorry for your loss! Your attitude does you great credit, I find sometimes I benefit myself from holding onto a good attitude just as much as the people who have to interact with me do. I hope it is the same for you!
Sorry to hear. And I too am glad to live in an age of pain management.
Not worth much, but sincere condolences from a stranger on the Internet.
So sorry for your loss. Your sister having been able to make her decision, have pain management, and be surrounded by family is everything.
Wishing you good gatherings, and will look forward to when you're around here more.
(Though hamhanded comments may be more a job for LittlePig.)
My condolences, but I'm glad you're at peace.
Condolences. Comment when you can.
A peaceful exit is far superior to the alternative, I've seen both. We all board that bus one day, so we should all put some effort into being happy and spreading it around. You won't end up getting depressed thinking about all the people you pissed off. Happy Thanksgiving.
I'm really sorry that happened to your sister, but I'm glad that it was on her terms. Condolences to you and you family!
Time is a flat circle. Haven't you heard?
I thought it keeps on slippin', slippin', into the future.
Time is not excluded from circularity. I will now sit stiller than still and silently repeat my mantra. No, you can't – it's my secret.
"We thank with brief thanks giving whatever gods may be/That no life lives forever/That dead men rise up never/That even the weariest river/Winds somewhere, safe,.to sea." -- Swineburne
Swineburne's Meditation on a Swine
Pigburne thinkin' out loud.
Poor Swineburne, had to go around his whole life sayin' "It's SWIN-burne!" Like Hyacinth Bucket.
Roy, this is lovely. Thank you.
Thanks, o guerrilla!
In 27+ years in Japan, I've had turkey dinner 3 times (back in Canada). I've worked on Christmas Day at least 6-7 times (including my first year here, the first time in my life [age 40] that I wasn't home for Christmas--that was a real mindfuck/culture shock moment for me).
Would it be ill-mannered of me to suggest that living in Japan has made me kinda hyper-aware of Western bad manners?
No. Westerners bad manners are simply an observation like noting the sun rises or water is wet. Americans are bringing a new coarseness to everything, though, as Donald Trump gives everyone permission to be their worst possible selves.
If American coarseness were defined like sandpaper – you know, by grit size, Trump would be one huge piece of paper covered by a single big-ass boulder.
Not at all. Cautionary tale!
I just started reading Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of WWII, one of the many excellent book recommendations I've gotten from this place, for which I am thankful.
I personally care not for holidays and would happily forget them, tho I must say that when I was a public servant I LOVED working parks on Christmas day. Partly the double overtime, partly the mellow visitors and partly the occasional wackiness.
Well stated as always, Roy. May everyone enjoy the holiday.
Optional soundtrack: https://youtu.be/Ope-TwQ1doc?si=U3RDoJM_oeXzMcUx
Greet sales people and waitstaff with a sincere “hello.” Consider yourself a guest in their house. Americans are terribly rude customers, at home and abroad. If you want to be rude, tell a bot voice to fuck off and get a real person on the line.
Always, always, ALWAYS be considerate to the fellow workers, especially if they toil on a holiday. Compensate them well.
A long, slow line is an opportunity to practice patience and engage with wit the individuals around you, as your sociological state shifts to an aggregate and then a group, and finally to a social movement!
Citizens! To the barricades and joyously!
I used to think that Trump was just a freakish collection of gutter attitudes and appetites under a coat of Man-Tan and Hair Helmut. He's not only completely lacking in grace, integrity, virtue of any kind, but I don't think he understands what any of those words even mean. But he can't be that much of a freak if 70 million people...
Oh fuck I don't wanna even talk about him anymore.
Here's a link to a beautiful little piece of diatonic meditation that isn't Copeland. Happy Thanksgiving to Roy and the rest of ya's.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MozI7kPaeM
Keith Jarrett? His name is on the title page, but I didn't hear him, unless he's taken up the violin.
He plays Harrison's Piano Concerto, which was written for him. I assume it's on that album. Wild piece, completely different in most parts than the one I linked to.
Thank you, Roy. After plowing through innumerable Facebook and Substack posts telling me that since I'm not Elon Musk I'm to blame for all the problems in the world because I'm a queer liberal but it's not my fault because my secular humanist family brought me up all wrong but it's still all the more my fault because I'm not straight and filthy rich so nothing I can do is worth anything and I should just submit to my betters even when they persecute me because as a queer liberal I have nothing else to live for but being to blame for all the problems in the world, and the only alternative being to renounce everything remotely associated with racism and patriarchy and colonialism and live with my head turned back over my shoulder looking out for a committee of queer theorists controlling my every thought, word, and deed and submit to my woke betters because as a white male I have nothing else to live for but being to blame for all the problems of the world, it's good to be reminded that basic human decency is not a matter of ideology or identity. It's just that fifty years of culture wars have deliberately robbed us of the ability to recognize it.
I'm afraid the New York Times will call and offer me a column for saying this, but yes, there's assholes on both sides.
Twas ever thus, but the assholes don't (yet) own the Democratic party. One of the darkest timelines is if that changes.
Twas ever thus, but the assholes don't (yet) own the Democratic party. One of the darkest timelines is if that changes.
Even the worst of our past presidents would put aside petty attacks on their political enemies during national holidays, but as with everything else Trump sets a new precedent (low). I would like to think that will change once he's gone, even when there is another Republican in office, but who knows these days?
Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, Roy!
After news came that they had found the bodies of Captain Scott and his companions, frozen to death forty miles from their next food depot, one polar explorer (not Amundsen, Amundsen was too gracious for this) said "What is there to learn from Scott? I don't think anyone will copy his methods."
I strain myself searching for another person close to the Ultimate Lever Of Power after the Queensman relinquishes it who would have the stamina and willpower to fuck with the nation Every Damn Day the way he does. I can't think of a single one who'd not eventually say "ah forget it"...