"Have you ever heard of Broad City?" my youngest son, J, asked me yesterday. "It's trending on Twitter."
I had never heard of Broad City and asked J what it was and why it was trending. Apparently, it's a show on Comedy Central. It was announced that during Broad City's new season, Donald Trump's name will be treated as an obscenity, bleeping it whenever his name comes up.
I immediately loved this. I've never been a Trump fan, especially since he decided to enter politics, and most especially since he won the presidential election. I've written about my love (or, rather, lack thereof) of Trump in several posts here ("It's Been an Atrocious Election Year..." , "Politics Make Me Sick", and "Donald Trump as What?", for starters).
If, after reading those posts, there's any doubt about how I feel about our current regime (oops, president), you might need to reread the posts. In her book Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, wrote, "I have had it with (George W.) Bush." And I am so over Trump. I also love that Stephen King was known to call Trump "he-who-shall-not-be-named" on Twitter (well before he was blocked by the tweeter-in-chief). Another one of my favorite writers, who is one of my friends on Facebook and who I won't "out" here without her permission, has taken to calling t.i.c "baby man." It fits.
All this is leading up to today's news: "Congressman Targeted: Rep. Scalise, Others Shot at Baseball Field". According to NBC, "House Majority Whip Steve Scalise was standing at second base during a congressional baseball practice when a gunman opened fire and hit him in the left hip, witnesses said."
The New York Times reported that the lone gunman opened fire on Republican members of the congressional baseball team because he "was reportedly distraught over President Trump’s election" ("Steve Scalise Among 4 Shot at Baseball Field; Suspect Is Dead".)
No matter how angry (or "distraught") one is over something, this is not an acceptable way of handling that anger. The only reason to resort to such means is if someone is directly threatening you, for family/loved ones, or those around you with certain death. Any other reason is unacceptable. Protest. Write. Use legal means. This could include impeachment proceedings. But damn, not violence!
I still don't like the direction the current regime is headed in, the craziness and unethical way those in power are treating the poor and working class. It's basically class-warfare. But if we're going to fight back, we've got to do it without violence.
Otherwise, we're no better off than hate-mongers who try to destroy the country for all of us.
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
They Don't Make Them Like They Used To...
I wish I had $5 for every time I've heard someone say, "They don't make 'em like they used to." Heck, with inflation, make that $10, since $5 doesn't buy what it used to. Add cash for every time I've uttered the words about making 'em like they used to, I'd be rich.
We could start with cars - my daughter, M.H., just bought another car to replace one she'd bought several years ago, which was really on its last legs or tires - but we won't. The only good part about not making cars like they used to is that Yugos are no longer being made. But the rest - the sturdy steel cars from Detroit's heyday - are enough to make one sigh.
Maybe six years ago, I decided to buy a new dining room table and chairs. It was the first time I'd ever had a brand new table and chairs, and they'd be replacing a dining room table a friend had bought for me twenty-plus years ago. That table was still in relatively decent shape (I really should've kept it, but that's another story), but the chairs had fallen apart and been replaced several times. New chairs and table were obviously what I needed to buy.
I found what I wanted on a chain-store's website and ordered away. (Note: This is not necessarily the smartest way to do this, since seeing a picture of something online doesn't quite give you enough info. Turned out that the table is bigger than I'd anticipated for the size of the dining room.)
A week or so later, a delivery truck arrived. The driver and his helper brought in the table and chairs, put them together, and that was that.
Within maybe eight to ten months, the chairs started falling apart big time. I called the store I'd bought the table and chairs from to see if they'd replace the chairs. For what I paid for them, I figured they would. (They did.)
Here's where it started getting a little strange. The customer service person on the phone asked if I'd bought the table with four or six chairs.
"Four," I answered.
"Okay, yeah, I just found that on the site," I was told. "Four chairs. Great, we'll send them on out."
The problem was that they would have to charge me for the chairs, then refund the money back to my account when the old, broken chairs were received back at their warehouse.
"You're kidding, right?"
Nope. I sighed and gave them the card number.
"You'll need to take the old chairs apart, box them up, and put them into the boxes that the new chairs came in," the man from customer service told me. "We'll also schedule UPS to pick up the boxes with the old chairs from your place the next day, so make sure you take care of it right away."
Around 6:00 P.M. the following Monday, a UPS truck pulled up in front of my house. The driver climbed out, went around back of the truck, got a dolly out, then brought four large boxes up to the house. He knocked on the door, then muscled them, one at a time, onto the porch, where my sons and I then muscled them into the house.
After getting the boxes laid out on the living room floor (the dining room is right off the living room, so no biggie), I opened the first box. There were two chairs in the box. I opened the next box. Two chairs in that one, too!
From what I figured out, the guy at customer service heard four chairs and went to type in the correct amount into his computer. As with computers, though, if there are blanks to fill in, you might not get to fill in all the info; it's entirely possible that their computer wanted the number of items, rather than chairs, shoes, what-have-you; just a generic items. Then, whoever pulled the order to send out saw 4 items rather than 4 chairs; this obviously meant 4 boxes with chairs...which came out to (you guessed it) 8 chairs! If it had been a math equation, it would've been:
4 chairs = 4 items;
4 items = 4 boxes;
4 boxes X 2 chairs = 8 chairs; which gives you:
4 chairs = 8 chairs. Guess this is what's considered new math!
I put together four chairs (two boxes' worth), took the old chairs apart, put them into the boxes that the new ones came in, taped up the boxes, flipped the address labels around so that they'd go back to where they'd come from, and that was that.
The next day, I stuck around the house, waiting for UPS to show up to pick up the four heavy boxes, tripping over them whenever I'd have to go through the living room. (Yes, the living room is small enough and the boxes were large enough that they did take up much of the available floor space.)
Just before 5:00, I began wondering if customer service had actually put in an order to have the boxes picked up, so I called UPS and asked if anyone was on their way to pick up the chairs.
"I'm really not sure," I was told. "I'm not seeing anything, but that doesn't mean that we don't have someone on the way."
So, just in case, I made sure that they'd come out the next day for the chairs.
"And the packages are pre-paid?" the woman on the phone asked. They were. "Good enough. We'll be by tomorrow to pick them up."
"But you can't tell if anyone's coming this afternoon?"
Nope, that would have entailed another phone number.
By 7:00, I was pretty sure that no one would be picking up the boxes until the next day. J. and M. and I dragged the boxes into the utility room so that we wouldn't trip over them that evening.
Ten minutes later, we heard the rumble of the UPS truck just outside our house. (You saw that coming, didn't you?! We should've, too.) I met the guy at the door - the same driver who'd dropped off the heavy boxes the day before - and asked him if he'd be able to bring the dolly to the back door.
"Sure thing." He also guessed why I'd moved the boxes.
The next day, I was at the grocery store when my cell phone rang. Apparently, UPS had sent the exact same driver out to pick the chairs up again. When he'd arrived the night before, it had been too late to reach anyone to cancel the pick up. When I'd called that morning, I was told not to worry, everything was fine.
"He looked really relieved when I told him there weren't four more boxes of chairs to pick up," J. told me. Well, I guess! Those things were heavy!
We needed to replace the chairs two more times, as they kept falling apart in a matter of months. This huge table came with chairs that probably should have been marked as "perfect for the super-model who weighs no more than 98 pounds; not meant to hold more than 100 pounds."
The last time two of the chairs fell apart, I put them into our spare room, figuring I'd try fixing them. But after a while, I realized that that was not happening, and put them out on trash day. We still have two of the last four chairs here...
Meanwhile, my mom had had a dining room table and chairs that a neighbor of ours in Connecticut had built during the mid-1960s. When she sold the set, maybe ten years ago, they were still a solid, usable set, chairs and all. (The neighbor had had a small furniture building company and put pride into everything that was built.)
Then there's the computer desk I bought and put together. Ditto the entertainment unit. They're both showing much too much wear...and it's not like they're antiques. Just cheaply made. Meanwhile, the desk I'm working on at the moment was made by a late in-law 60+ years ago! It's nothing fancy: desk top, metal strip around the edges, place to sit with plenty of leg room, and three drawers stacked up on the right-hand side. It's not glamorous, but dang, it's sturdy and still in great shape. It'll probably last another 60+ years.
No, they don't make 'em like they used to.
We could start with cars - my daughter, M.H., just bought another car to replace one she'd bought several years ago, which was really on its last legs or tires - but we won't. The only good part about not making cars like they used to is that Yugos are no longer being made. But the rest - the sturdy steel cars from Detroit's heyday - are enough to make one sigh.
Maybe six years ago, I decided to buy a new dining room table and chairs. It was the first time I'd ever had a brand new table and chairs, and they'd be replacing a dining room table a friend had bought for me twenty-plus years ago. That table was still in relatively decent shape (I really should've kept it, but that's another story), but the chairs had fallen apart and been replaced several times. New chairs and table were obviously what I needed to buy.
I found what I wanted on a chain-store's website and ordered away. (Note: This is not necessarily the smartest way to do this, since seeing a picture of something online doesn't quite give you enough info. Turned out that the table is bigger than I'd anticipated for the size of the dining room.)
A week or so later, a delivery truck arrived. The driver and his helper brought in the table and chairs, put them together, and that was that.
Within maybe eight to ten months, the chairs started falling apart big time. I called the store I'd bought the table and chairs from to see if they'd replace the chairs. For what I paid for them, I figured they would. (They did.)
Here's where it started getting a little strange. The customer service person on the phone asked if I'd bought the table with four or six chairs.
"Four," I answered.
"Okay, yeah, I just found that on the site," I was told. "Four chairs. Great, we'll send them on out."
The problem was that they would have to charge me for the chairs, then refund the money back to my account when the old, broken chairs were received back at their warehouse.
"You're kidding, right?"
Nope. I sighed and gave them the card number.
"You'll need to take the old chairs apart, box them up, and put them into the boxes that the new chairs came in," the man from customer service told me. "We'll also schedule UPS to pick up the boxes with the old chairs from your place the next day, so make sure you take care of it right away."
Around 6:00 P.M. the following Monday, a UPS truck pulled up in front of my house. The driver climbed out, went around back of the truck, got a dolly out, then brought four large boxes up to the house. He knocked on the door, then muscled them, one at a time, onto the porch, where my sons and I then muscled them into the house.
After getting the boxes laid out on the living room floor (the dining room is right off the living room, so no biggie), I opened the first box. There were two chairs in the box. I opened the next box. Two chairs in that one, too!
From what I figured out, the guy at customer service heard four chairs and went to type in the correct amount into his computer. As with computers, though, if there are blanks to fill in, you might not get to fill in all the info; it's entirely possible that their computer wanted the number of items, rather than chairs, shoes, what-have-you; just a generic items. Then, whoever pulled the order to send out saw 4 items rather than 4 chairs; this obviously meant 4 boxes with chairs...which came out to (you guessed it) 8 chairs! If it had been a math equation, it would've been:
4 chairs = 4 items;
4 items = 4 boxes;
4 boxes X 2 chairs = 8 chairs; which gives you:
4 chairs = 8 chairs. Guess this is what's considered new math!
I put together four chairs (two boxes' worth), took the old chairs apart, put them into the boxes that the new ones came in, taped up the boxes, flipped the address labels around so that they'd go back to where they'd come from, and that was that.
The next day, I stuck around the house, waiting for UPS to show up to pick up the four heavy boxes, tripping over them whenever I'd have to go through the living room. (Yes, the living room is small enough and the boxes were large enough that they did take up much of the available floor space.)
Just before 5:00, I began wondering if customer service had actually put in an order to have the boxes picked up, so I called UPS and asked if anyone was on their way to pick up the chairs.
"I'm really not sure," I was told. "I'm not seeing anything, but that doesn't mean that we don't have someone on the way."
So, just in case, I made sure that they'd come out the next day for the chairs.
"And the packages are pre-paid?" the woman on the phone asked. They were. "Good enough. We'll be by tomorrow to pick them up."
"But you can't tell if anyone's coming this afternoon?"
Nope, that would have entailed another phone number.
By 7:00, I was pretty sure that no one would be picking up the boxes until the next day. J. and M. and I dragged the boxes into the utility room so that we wouldn't trip over them that evening.
Ten minutes later, we heard the rumble of the UPS truck just outside our house. (You saw that coming, didn't you?! We should've, too.) I met the guy at the door - the same driver who'd dropped off the heavy boxes the day before - and asked him if he'd be able to bring the dolly to the back door.
"Sure thing." He also guessed why I'd moved the boxes.
The next day, I was at the grocery store when my cell phone rang. Apparently, UPS had sent the exact same driver out to pick the chairs up again. When he'd arrived the night before, it had been too late to reach anyone to cancel the pick up. When I'd called that morning, I was told not to worry, everything was fine.
"He looked really relieved when I told him there weren't four more boxes of chairs to pick up," J. told me. Well, I guess! Those things were heavy!
We needed to replace the chairs two more times, as they kept falling apart in a matter of months. This huge table came with chairs that probably should have been marked as "perfect for the super-model who weighs no more than 98 pounds; not meant to hold more than 100 pounds."
The last time two of the chairs fell apart, I put them into our spare room, figuring I'd try fixing them. But after a while, I realized that that was not happening, and put them out on trash day. We still have two of the last four chairs here...
Meanwhile, my mom had had a dining room table and chairs that a neighbor of ours in Connecticut had built during the mid-1960s. When she sold the set, maybe ten years ago, they were still a solid, usable set, chairs and all. (The neighbor had had a small furniture building company and put pride into everything that was built.)
Then there's the computer desk I bought and put together. Ditto the entertainment unit. They're both showing much too much wear...and it's not like they're antiques. Just cheaply made. Meanwhile, the desk I'm working on at the moment was made by a late in-law 60+ years ago! It's nothing fancy: desk top, metal strip around the edges, place to sit with plenty of leg room, and three drawers stacked up on the right-hand side. It's not glamorous, but dang, it's sturdy and still in great shape. It'll probably last another 60+ years.
No, they don't make 'em like they used to.
Friday, January 20, 2017
Donald Trump as What?
Donald Trump has been inaugurated as president of the United States.
Let that depressing news sink in. It's going to be a long, bumpy four years.
Eight years ago, I wrote a post on my original Journalistic Writings blog about President Barack Obama's inauguration. Four years later, when President Obama was inaugurated for a second term, I reposted it on my Journalistic Writings, Two blog.
And now we have Donald J. Trump. It seems we've gone from classy to trashy. How else does one describe going from a president who tried to be inclusive, was still married to - happily married to, from the looks of it - his first wife, was strong enough to take a stand without calling people derogatory names to someone on his third marriage (divorced twice), allegedly cheated on all three of his wives, bragged to Billy Bush (who seemed to be amused by DT's bragging) that he'd grabbed women by certain bodily areas, that one could "do that if you're rich and powerful enough", calls people he doesn't like or who aren't rich WASP (white anglo-saxton protestants) men derogatory names, and spouts off without thinking first, then has to back-track with "well, that's not I meant"?
Personally, I like how the writer Stephen King has referred to trump on Twitter as "he-who-shall-not-be-named." Lately, King has mentioned trump's name...but apparently is still not a fan. I just knew there was something I liked about Stephen King (besides his writing).
Of course, Trump didn't win the popular vote, but he did win the Electoral College's vote. I totally get the Electoral College being needed when the United States was in its infancy. But with technology the way it now is, there's no reason we can't have every person's vote count...Every. Single. Person's. Vote. Counting.
Back in August, I posted that Politics Make Me Sick on this blog. (They still do.) In that post, I mentioned one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. Anne wrote about George W. Bush during his years in office, and mentioned, "A friend called to wish me Happy Birthday, and I remembered something she's said many years ago, while reading a Vanity Fair article about Hitler's affair with his niece. 'I have had it with Hitler,' Peggy said vehemently...And I've had it with Bush."
At the time I read that, I thought, "Yeah. I can relate." But at the same time, I figured that after he left office, if I ran into George W. at, say, a barbecue or other gathering, I might actually chat with him and his wife for a few minutes - and actually be civil about it.
I can't, however, say the same about trump. I can't picture myself even crossing the street - crossing a two-lane street with maybe five cars on it all day - to say hi to trump. I am soooooooooo over trump.
It's going to be a long, bumpy four years.
Let that depressing news sink in. It's going to be a long, bumpy four years.
Eight years ago, I wrote a post on my original Journalistic Writings blog about President Barack Obama's inauguration. Four years later, when President Obama was inaugurated for a second term, I reposted it on my Journalistic Writings, Two blog.
And now we have Donald J. Trump. It seems we've gone from classy to trashy. How else does one describe going from a president who tried to be inclusive, was still married to - happily married to, from the looks of it - his first wife, was strong enough to take a stand without calling people derogatory names to someone on his third marriage (divorced twice), allegedly cheated on all three of his wives, bragged to Billy Bush (who seemed to be amused by DT's bragging) that he'd grabbed women by certain bodily areas, that one could "do that if you're rich and powerful enough", calls people he doesn't like or who aren't rich WASP (white anglo-saxton protestants) men derogatory names, and spouts off without thinking first, then has to back-track with "well, that's not I meant"?
Personally, I like how the writer Stephen King has referred to trump on Twitter as "he-who-shall-not-be-named." Lately, King has mentioned trump's name...but apparently is still not a fan. I just knew there was something I liked about Stephen King (besides his writing).
Of course, Trump didn't win the popular vote, but he did win the Electoral College's vote. I totally get the Electoral College being needed when the United States was in its infancy. But with technology the way it now is, there's no reason we can't have every person's vote count...Every. Single. Person's. Vote. Counting.
Back in August, I posted that Politics Make Me Sick on this blog. (They still do.) In that post, I mentioned one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. Anne wrote about George W. Bush during his years in office, and mentioned, "A friend called to wish me Happy Birthday, and I remembered something she's said many years ago, while reading a Vanity Fair article about Hitler's affair with his niece. 'I have had it with Hitler,' Peggy said vehemently...And I've had it with Bush."
At the time I read that, I thought, "Yeah. I can relate." But at the same time, I figured that after he left office, if I ran into George W. at, say, a barbecue or other gathering, I might actually chat with him and his wife for a few minutes - and actually be civil about it.
I can't, however, say the same about trump. I can't picture myself even crossing the street - crossing a two-lane street with maybe five cars on it all day - to say hi to trump. I am soooooooooo over trump.
It's going to be a long, bumpy four years.
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