Turning 90

I was doing just fine, thanks. And then, last December, I turned 90. At the time, I thought, Oh, how nice. And they are throwing me a nice party. “Drinks all around. Richard has turned 90.”

And then, life went on.  And then, guess what? That following July 2^nd, we celebrated our 70^th anniversary. Now, not many people celebrate turning 90 . . . but 70 years of marriage? And a Happy 70? Even fewer.

And then, we kept on truck’n.

But, for reasons I fail to understand, I have become aware of why relatively few turn 90 successfully, and then keep on truck’n. Nothing dramatic happened. Yeah, Carol has had  her chemo infusions and they are unhappy events. The first 7 seven days now of each month (Monday – Friday and then Monday and Tuesday) she receives two shots of a chemo in her belly.  And they are beyond annoying for her. They hurt. They tire her. But she is a tough cookie and keeps on truck’n. Yep, she continues quilting for those sick kids at the hospital, keeps on fixing me wonderful meals daily, and we even go on our datenites each Thursday at the Brewery. So, our lives together continue.

But I have begun experiencing sleep difficulties (as does Carol). In part, I have begun thinking more about the inevitable consequences of this aging thing.  Which is that, at some stage, you stop living.  Yeah, partly, I now keep seeing postings on social media about folks of whom I am aware, who just died. Most are well known actors, but I also learn about people I actually know who just croaked.

And then I notice little things. I used to walk confidently, even run confidently. Now I walk carefully. I am not exactly unsteady on my feet. But confidently is not how I might describe my style.

And, although I routinely see folks who are well into their 90s, seemingly alive and well, I am not really seeing myself with them. And then, the more religious among us, including those few within the family, talk about the recently departed as “looking down on us from that heavenly place up above.” But I am thinking, “well no, THEY simply no longer exist.” We listen to Stephen Colbert routinely. He often asks a guest what happens when we die. And their responses always seem to at least touch on that afterlife thing, although most are tentative. But my brain keeps thinking, “Well, what happens, is that your brain ceases to operate, and you no longer know anything, including the fact that you are dead.” Yeah, you are dead, but YOU DO NOT KNOW THAT.” Why, well because you have no brain.  And YOU were always simply your brain.  So, there is no AFTER Thingie.  And that’s where my actual alive brain ceases to imagine. Happily, we have no way of knowing when that will happen. AND, we will never know when it actually happens, cuz then, we will no longer know anything. And that fact now keeps me thinking.  Yesterday, I looked out across the street and viewed the house over there, Then I looked just beyond and saw the remains of the sun--some clouds, brightening. And then I thought, well one day that will still be there, but I will no longer know it. Nope. My brain will be gone--well technically not gone, but ceased, no longer operating. And so I will not look out any longer, because I won't be doing anything any longer. And that is really hard to imagine. Me no longer an active me.  And see, if you are religious, then you begin imagining looking down from up above. But if you do not believe in an afterlife, then you have to think of NOTHING. What the Hell is NOTHING like? Well, I won't know, will I. Because I will no longer know anything. And even that awful prospect cannot get me to that Disney channel where I imagine myself sitting on a cloud. Nope, there are indeed clouds, but no misty folks up there.  Makes me half wish I did believe. But I don't, and so . . . sigh.

So, keep on truck’n folks, cuz this is all we have. Make the most of your time, cuz there ain’t any other time. Think about what you are doing. Try always to make the folks around you happier than they might otherwise be.  Smile if you can, especially when you are looking directly into someone’s eyes. They may smile in return. 

Charlie Kirk: A Dilemma

So, Charlie Kirk was shot and done in. And the responses have been  . . . “Yay” . . . to, “Oh My God, how awful”. See, it all depends on your view of Charlie’s past utterings.  Yeah, Charlie was a profound Utterer, and pretty much to one side of the Utterance Social Channel. See Charlie was pretty much way over there, on that side where Hitler, had he still been in our midst, would have been applauding loudly. Charlie seems to have been:

A Racist, a homophobe, an anti-Latino, Anti-LGBTQ rights. He was a Christian Nationalist, and perhaps the farthest right wing of any of the folks in MAGALand.

So, does that mean he should have been a target of a shooter? Well, No, but it depends on where your brain takes you when confronting PoliticaLand.  See, suppose Charlie was not Racist, or  homophobic, and really just disagreed with most Latino politicians. Would he still have been a likely target? Hmmm, likely Not.

But see, the real bottom line here is that none of our politicians—Right or Left—should be targets, and that of course includes Donald Trump.  Why??? Well, we live theoretically in a country where we settle our disputes at the Ballot Box, rather than through the barrel of a gun.  So, in America, the Charlie Kirk’s of the world should be safe from targeted assassination. 

I admit that every time I see an ICE Gangsta, my first thought is, “will someone shoot him?” They all look like some foreign intruders, Gangsters really, with their masks, and camo garb. They seem like evil creatures in and from a foreign land—an evil foreign land.  Now, to be fair, Charlie Kirk never dressed up like an ICE Gangsta. He always looked normal. But whenever he opened his mouth, he seemed, well not quite American. Again, to be fair, MAGA folks don’t really seem American either, but still not worthy of assassination.  Now the January 6^th MAGAs were every bit worthy of assassination, especially as some of them were in fact killing police. So, a Trump pardon seems way extreme, on the other side.

And if he continues down his chosen path of using our military to force his will on American cities, I fear that we may be headed for something way beyond Charlie Kirk. One can almost smell that CIVIL WAR thing.  And the MAGA crowd is likely heavily armed. We’ll see about the American electorate.

So, keep an eye peeled folks, for the drumbeats of Right Wing Warriors.  I think you can almost see them coming sooner rather than later.

 

Life's a Bitch

I’m 90, as you likely know. So, periodically, my thoughts turn to . . . Death. Yeah, I know. Bummer, huh? But not just Death. Rather, What is Death? And I have concluded that Death is a peculiar state. It is a state, when I do not just lose consciousness. Or I just lose “awareness”. No, I no longer “Know” anything, because my brain no longer functions. I don’t know if you have thought about such a state . . . when your brain no longer works. You are dead, but you no longer know you are dead . . . because you no longer “KNOW” anything. You do not even know that your brain does not work. Nope. YOU are gone. And, you are not GONE into that Heavenly space where you meet your grandfolks. Or maybe that hot place where you meet Satan. No. You simply no longer exist, and you do not know that, because you have no brain.

It’s hard to comprehend such a state of nothingness . . . a state where you no longer are aware that you are not aware. Try thinking about such a state. It ain’t easy.

Yeah, but I’m 90 and you’re not, so you may not be having such exotic thoughts. UNLESS . . . yeah, I’m thinking about the parents of those little kids who were shot AND killed in that school in Minnesota, The mom, who’s grieving now, may well be thinking about all the years her little one will not experience.  See, parents don’t think about such things normally. Instead, they think about what their little ones are having for lunch, or maybe what they are learning that day at school.  See, thinking about a state of Nothingness is not on her mind.  Or at least, we hope it is not.  We hope she is having Happy Thoughts about what she will do when her little ones return from school, and maybe, what she may fix them for dinner.

See, that young man who got out his guns and went over to that school he once attended and then began shooting at the place, was also not thinking about the possible states of non-being he might be imposing on some very young kids who had most of their lives in front of them.  See, he was unlikely to even be aware of the Death State, and what it really means.  See the young ones he killed were not thinking of that state, and now are not thinking anything. He took that away from them. Killing someone is a weird thing to do. Most people who do the killing have no idea what they are doing, because their brains are malfunctioning when they are in that act of killing.  Maybe it’s a good thing that young man was killed in the act. Now he cannot think about what he did. We might prefer it were he able to think. But his brain was malfunctioning anyway. No normal functioning brain would allow such a cruel act. And it makes me wonder what his Mother is now thinking. But more, it makes me wonder about the Mothers, and the fathers, of those dead children and what they are thinking.  “Life’s a bitch, but then you die”. Yeah, but NOT THAT WAY.   NO. Parents are supposed to be thinking about their kids graduating from school, and maybe even college someday.  They are not supposed to be preparing a Gravestone for their kids.  That’s just wrong.  So, what do we think about guns, and about malfunctioning kids having possession of guns? Not such a hot idea huh?

Well, let us all think about those parents of the little dead kids.  Send them your thoughts and prayers, even though they won’t bring back their kids.

LIFE NOW

 Life’s a Bitch . . . But Then You Die.

That’s been my Happy Tale of late when I’m talking to my pet cat, Midnight, as he complains to me about his many tales of woe.  As I hit and then passed by 90 years, this little whimsical saying has become my motto.

For one thing, I had a minor accident, tripping on a stair and then banging my head against our kitchen wall. I felt the back of my head, but detected nothing amiss. Then two days later, I came down with Shingles, despite having had my Shingles vaccination shots.  It was odd. I experienced no adverse effects from my fall and whacking my head. But two days later, I noticed a rash on my left side. I thought, “hmmm, is this rash an effect of somehow twisting my body and then whacking my head?” And then my doctor-daughter looked at it and said, “Ohhh, you seem to have Shingles”. And I said, “No, I had the Shingles shots, remember?” And, she said, “Well, maybe those shots failed to work, cuz you clearly have Shingles.”

And so, for the past 4-5 weeks, I have been struggling with Shingles. It’s a combination of a stomach that feels off and on like I have strained the interior muscles, to my outer skin feeling super sensitive, both itchy and like I’ve been burned. Oh, and then periodically, someone sticks a needle into the skin. Such fun. I am taking Gaba Pentin pills, and spreading  a Lidocaine salve on the area, but if it’s working I can’t tell.

So, life, at the moment, sucks, and I have begun thinking of The End of Life. You know, that period when you no longer know anything, not even that you are no longer alive.

And then, that creature, The Donald enters my brain, either through the radio, the TV News, or my computer, where maybe 2/3 of my e-mails try to tell me something awful that he has done or is doing, you know, like his latest mess with Zelensky and Vlad.  Remember his yakking while he was running for President that second time? He was going to bring peace in one day.  And people, MAGAHeads, actually seemed to believe him and so, voted for him.  How was that possible? Are any Americans that stupid that they believe anything he says and actually cast their vote for him? Well, apparently the answer is YES.  And so, with now 3 ½ years to go in his term, and me in my state of Shingles desperation, I have begun assuming that maybe LIFE may not be worth it. Were I not Happily married to a wonderful woman, I almost assuredly would be thinking of how to end this state of being.  But I am Happily married and my wife of 70 years is a wonder woman. She makes my life worthy of continuance, despite its now many woes.  And so, I will continue.

But that creature, The Donald will continue to make my life, and the lives of millions, a misery.  He is the most miserable creature ever to spring to life during my lifetime. In terms of leaders, I have been aware of them since maybe FDR. I still remember listening to him on the radio, when I was maybe 5 or 6.  I still remember vividly FDR telling us about December 7^th and that Pearl Harbor bombing.  Even then, at that early life stage, I remember being appalled.  But then, FDR led me through all the horrors of WW II until its successful conclusion.  And then I reverted to “The Shadow”—“who knows what evil lurks in the minds of man? The Shadow knows”.  And then “Gangbusters”, and “Charlie McCarthy” and on and on.  That was ended and then the parade of Presidents began – Truman, Ike, JFK (the original) Johnson, Nixon (oh god, remember him?), Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush II, Clinton, Obama, Trump and Biden. And I followed them all, my mind cringing during Reagan, and Nixon. But none of them even come close to Trump. His awfulness brings to mind maybe Hitler, although I know the comparison is not fair.

But to now be faced with another Trump at my advanced age of 90, knowing I haven’t much longer (nobody in my family ever made it beyond 85) gives me mental creepies.  He does bring to mind Hitler, and that is really hard for my mind to comprehend. Because, it is not merely Trump. Trump is the End Game of a subset of American people. He is here, making Americans miserable, because Americans voted for him. And that is my saddest commentary. Americans actually voted for this idiot-malenfant. Think of what that means about America.  And so, I am stuck with my Shingles, and Donald Trump. How is that for a way to end your life?  AND, I see no solution. Republicans and democrats in Congress seem incapable if even slowing him down. SCOTUS, my once preferred solution to such problems, now seems DEAD.  So, short of a bullet through his head (unlikely) I see no solution. But hey how about a heart attack?  Oh right, there’s that. And then we get JD Vance, who might actually be worse. Nice, huh?

OK, so you better just Keep On Truck’n Richard. Quit bitching, and continue to enjoy your wonderful wife. OH and all those great kids , grandkids, and Great grandkids. Yeah, so shut up for a while.

That Tiresome Dying Thing

 I guess when you get really old, you think a lot more about the dying thing.  I think I first became aware of dying when I was about 16. One of the things that happens when you move up into that teenage period is that your parents and grandparents start to become “OLD”. In my case, although my mom was still pretty ok, one of my Grands had to come live with us. Turns out they had run out of money altogether in around 1950. I literally remember when they were down to their last seven dollars. Think of that. No credit cards, no bank account, and in your pocket is your remaining seven dollars.  My mum’s siblings were in a state of battle about who would/could care for the parents, my Gran and granpa. Turns out, we were selected to care for my Scottish Grandma.  She was a sweetie, but an unwell sweetie. Grandma Inglis was maybe 85, and she had heart disorder and a breathing problem.  When she came to live with us, we lived in a small, two-bedroom cottage. Living there were my mum, my bro and me. So, GM initially slept on our screened porch, which was sort of ok, since it was early summer and weather was not an issue.

But about two months after she arrived, she began to have serious breathing problems. She was placed on oxygen. Since my mum and my bro were busy during the day, I was home alone caring for her.  Sometime midday, GM began having serious breathing problems. I went to her and held her. Then I decided to call the doctor. Soon after I hung up, GM began having terminal breathing problems. I sat with her, holding her as she began breathing her last. Then she stopped breathing altogether, as I held her. She had died in my arms. Shortly thereafter, the doctor arrived. He checked her and declared her dead.  So there I was, a young teen holding my dead GM. That was my first experience with the dying thing. Later, I experienced others with my mum, and Carol’s mum both dying in our care, and both in their 80s.

We had no serious connection with organized religion at that stage as we barely attended a small local church. So we had no awareness of what happens when one dies. The fact that nothing happens actually, beyond the cessation of breathing and thereby LIFE did not occur in any complex way. Gram was here, then she was “Gone”. And see we used that term, “Gone”, which signifies a journey of some kind. Folks leave the earth and then travel to Heaven, where they then live in heavenly splendor, looking down upon us poor earthbound creatures.

At that stage, it never occurred to me that, after death, one simply ceases being aware. You are no longer aware, therefore you cease to exist. We are allowed to place you in a box and bury that box several feet underground, which is what we did with Gran. Gran then no longer exists, except as a memory in our little brains.  And then we went about our daily living chores, and Gran became yesterday. I stopped thinking of her, except occasionally.  Yet, even now, some 70 years later, I still think of her as I see a picture of her in our home. But, for that, she is literally “gone”.

Later, much later, I began thinking about Life and its cessation. And I wonder, what exactly is LIFE? And, why do we have LIFE? Just recently, a new life has come into our family with the birth of our newest Great Grandson, Lincoln Steinbacher. He is a sweet little man, and, we hope he has many decades of a fruitful and happy life ahead of him.  And he adds to our assembly of men and women, boys and girls, all of whom comprise our family.  He is . . . they all are LIFE.

But Gran was also LIFE. She breathed, smiled, laughed, chatted with us. And then suddenly, she was no longer among we members of the LIFE thing.  But she, and all who came before and all who continue to occupy LIFE, are members of this curious phenomenon called Intelligent Life forms. And it always draws me back to the Beginning, assuming there was, at some point, a “Beginning”.  See we are always faced with this question—how did creation begin and was there a Life Force at that beginning stage?

I completely fail to understand how a Universe began, with or without a Life Force.  Was there a Creator? How could there not have been one? But, see, it grows even more complex when one thinks about a Creator? Suppose there was a Creator—a God—who was responsible. But who created the Creator? Even if it is all magic, who/what is the magician?

I really have to think more about this creation thing. No explanation springs to mind. Even if the ultimate answer is GOD. My question remains to baffle me—who created GOD? And why? Why would a GOD create this magical thing called The Universe? And why take such a long time.? Why not just snap one’s fingers and suddenly a functional universe appears?  And if a God created this universe thingie, why such a problematic one? Why are Humans not perfect?

OK, maybe another Day. Think On Richard. And Meanwhile, Bye Bye Granny Inglis, and Welcome to our Newest source of wonder, Lincoln Byrd Steinbacher? You are already amazing.

That Dying Thing

 How do we know we are dying? Well, I guess the most honest answer is, “well, we don’t know, until we are nearly dead.” It seems that, barring a drastic thing like cancer, or being hit by a car, or a stray bullet, there is no definite signal. But there are lots of little signals. Like what? Oh, we are a little unsteady while walking. Or, when we bend over, we begin to acquire some dizziness. Or we experience some shortness of breath while walking or climbing.  Arguably, the continued introduction and use of various medical pills is also a good sign. See, we are trying artificially to maintain the body’s usual functional capabilities.

But all such signs could introduce themselves when we are 30, or 40. We don’t have to be 80 or 90. Now, I come from a family in which all members ceased existing by the latest 85. And my memories of those folks are always of “old people”. But, since they all died when I was still pretty young, all of my memories are those of 5-20 somethings observing 60 – 80 somethings.

But now, I’m 90 and my dear wife is 89. And we are still cranking ahead, even to working out several times a week.  We even have a weekly “Datenite”, when we go to our local brewpub and have a beer, some dinner, and some pleasant conversation with close friends. So, is that “Old”?  Well, not really, but we are now definitely “Old”.

But are we “Dying”? Well, yeah, of course, but aren’t we all?

But that isn’t what bothers me. No. What bothers me is having an idiot-malenfant as our President, during this maybe final stage of our lives.  See my first political memories are listening to the radio at maybe age 5 or 6, while FDR chatted to us. I actually and vividly remember FDR telling us about December 7^th and the Pearly Harbor bombing, that started WW II. Yeah, I sat on the floor in our Second Avenue, Manhattan railroad flat with the radio next to me on our front room floor and listened.

And now I have to pay attention to this fascist clown, who may be the dumbest human on the planet, lie to me about crowds gathering in LA. And that makes me scared   . . . scared that I might die before this idiot leaves our planet.  See, I’ve lived through a lot of Presidents. Think Nixon, and Shrub, and Reagan for heaven’s sake.  Course, we also had Ike, and Kennedy, and Truman, and Johnson. Were the latter all perfect? No, of course not, but they were genuinely trying to keep America safe and a decent place to live. Trump, on the other hand, doesn’t care. He wants only to be treated like a king. But he keeps acting like a nasty, spoiled little five-year-old, who is always whining and crying.

And so, I live, day by day, watching this idiot, and hoping maybe he will fall down the stairs and not recover. Horrible? Yep, I know. I’m awful, but I keep thinking about our Great Grandchildren and what kind of world they might have if this idiot doesn’t soon leave.  See, he is old enough to have a sudden heart attack. I mean, he is fat, as well as stupid. So, maybe we will luck out and he will experience a stroke, or some such. But can’t it happen while I am still breathing air on this planet of ours??? Yeah, so he goes out, and then I can relax. Oh, but one other thing??? Maybe a stroke or heart attack could mangle Vance as well. That would be nice.

So, breathe on folks. We all need to survive this idiot-malenfant. Smile, have a nice glass of wine. Breathe slowly and deeply, and smile . . . oh and sip on that wine. Yeah chill.

Today in Outrage

 I guess I’m getting really old, cuz everything in our falling apart world seems to be consistent daily. What’s that you say? Well, let’s see, Donald Trump does or says something completely outrageous—you know like he’s going to cut Medicaid, or eliminate Food assistance to poor families, and then the fun begins. The republicans cheer him on, and the Dems begin sending me messages, showing how outrageous they are. “Awful stuff the Prez is doing. Oh, and by the way, would you send me five dollars for our next election?” Yeah, I get maybe 125 of those each day.

Yeah, the outrage is stunning . . . but send me five dollars. Honestly, Trump actually is an outrage, perhaps daily if not hourly. Yet nothing happens. He dictates to Harvard that they can no longer accept foreign students??? The President of the United States imagines that he can tell Harvard who they can admit to their colleges??? Seriously??? And then he goes off on some bizarre statement about something that barely seems in English.  And we go have another cup of coffee.

America, that country I used to adore is being ruled by a malevolent idiot, who can barely speak English because he never educated himself, and America seems to just sigh and go about its business. Maybe this is the beginning of the end for our wonderful country.

But how did it happen so quickly? There is something very different and sinister about our country under Trump. For example, his “Big Beautiful Bill” that, among other things, guts Medicaid and food assistance would never even have been considered 25 years ago. Even Reagan, for Heaven’s sake, would never have drafted such a piece of evil crap. I mean, I always had a low opinion of St. Ronald of Reagan—I did work under his regime for six years. But I never thought he was completely evil, whereas Trump seems to have no positive elements at all. Everything about him seems either terminally stupid, or evil. And yet, Americans voted for him. They elected him and now cheer him on.   What the Hell people?

And his latest Bill seems intent, in part, on emasculating the Supreme Court, so that they won’t be able to stop him either.

And so, now, the Senate will have to weigh in and decide on whether to pass this outrage masquerading as a piece of American legislation.

So, America, Are We Done As a Civilized Nation???

Senators, it is entirely up to you. Should you decide to pass his bill, then YOU are Pronouncing the End Of America. One might even say that You Are Killing America. Yes, it is that serious. So Think Very Carefully before you VOTE!