We had a light rain this week, on and off over nearly 24 hours. The soil of Paradise rejoiced because our average precipitation is only 12 inches, less than a third of the national average.
The state of my acoustic senses is such that I can’t hear the rain while I’m indoors, unless it is a major downpour, one of the Everybody in the Ark right this minute! variety. Robin can hear it, of course, being the sweet young thing that she is who didn’t foolishly listen to most of the music in her life at the top of the volume dial.
So, younger and smarter.
The upshot of all this is that if I want to hear the rain falling as I drift off to sleep, I need to be in a tin-roofed shed or a tent.
Could be worse.
Joe Biden continues to stretch out his lead, and you know, that’s okay. He wasn’t my candidate, in fact I had rather hoped he wouldn’t toss his hat in the ring at all, way back at the beginning of all this. To me he was a good man whose best time had already come and gone. But here we are, poised to run a good man against hardly a man at all. No contest.
My hope is that the firebrands behind Bernie will join him in supporting Biden if Joe is finally the candidate. So many of them seem to be of the all or nothing sort, where compromise is a dirty word.
I understand that outlook perfectly well, it was mine for quite a long time. In fact, I still get the feeling every once in a while that Mr. Mencken was talking about when he said:
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.H.L. Mencken
When those sentiments take hold of me now I retire to a corner facing the wall, sitting on my hands until the feeling passes.
It isn’t so much the slitting throats that gives me pause, but the fact that my getaway speed is just too slow.
Yesterday Robin made a grocery run and was witness to this playlet. The woman pushing the cart in front of her stopped at the end of the aisle, and went around the corner to get something, leaving her cart behind.
A man came from behind Robin, reached into the temporarily abandoned cart, took out a package of paper towels and made off with it. Now, really, there’s petty larceny and then there’s larceny that’s just petty.
My diagnosis: the man has a soul the size of a dried currant.
Good luck to the thief when he gets to the Pearly Gates where St. Peter chews him out and everyone in line starts laughing because he’s such a piker.
The Wipe That Smile Off Your Face And Let’s Get Serious Department
A Dick Guindon cartoon
Looking for good news? How about the utilities around the country that have stated they won’t cut anyone off if they can’t pay their bill during this emergency? Or the internet provider here in Paradise that has said the same thing, because they see the huge importance of a service that is being used to provide honest, clear information to the public?
How about the ordinary citizens who are lining up to volunteer to give out sack lunches to children who were dependent upon public schools for a significant part of their nutritional needs? Schools which are now closed.
How about the governors and mayors and city councils who have been providing thoughtful leadership to their states and communities, who know damn well that for the time being, they can’t look to the White House for anything but imaginary outpourings?
How about Dr. Anthony Fauci (my hero of the moment) who has the guts to stand next to the President at news conferences and fact-check him live and in living color, over and over? I’d love to give Dr. Tony a high-quality fly-swatter and have him smack Pres. Cluck with it every time he starts making s**t up on camera.
Holy Moly! Check out my horoscope for today. Five stars! Awesome. But.
Wouldn’t you know I’d get this great prediction when I’m basically sheltering in place?
I don’t really know how astrology works … can I save this good one for some day in the future when I could possibly make better use of it?