Fascinating Times

When the year 2020 began, my intention was to write and publish two books over the course of twelve months. I outlined those goals here. Then I switched course, deciding to fix up my house and sell it while also cranking out at least one new book. That goal was outlined here.

Then COVID-19 came along. You can’t dine in restaurants anymore, but you can still go play golf. Clubs have been shut down, but you can still handle fruit in the grocery store that’s passed through hundreds of unwashed hands. Grandparents are communicating through glass windows with their grandchildren because they’re afraid the little demons might be infected and they don’t have enough retirement savings for a lengthy hospital stay. And people are hoarding toilet paper because that’s what intelligent life does.

If aliens were to descend upon the Earth and say “We’re here to destroy you,” I would take them aside and tell them about the Coronavirus. Five minutes later they would ascend back into the heavens, convinced we will just destroy ourselves. And they would be correct. Why waste the energy and the time? Go destroy another planet. We’re right behind ya!

Now, don’t take this the wrong way. This virus is a problem. I recognize that. It’s an unknown, and a mad scramble to find drugs to combat it and a vaccine to cure it. But, at the end of the day, it’s essentially a different strain of the flu. Maybe more powerful, maybe not. It all seems to depend on underlying conditions or a genetic predisposition to fight it. If we would all just practice some caution, instead of panic, we could get through this relatively easy. There’s no reason to tank the economy and put everyone on lockdown for something that I personally don’t think will survive the consistently warmer weather approaching. I could be wrong. I could be right. Who knows?

One thing I do know is that people are inherently stupid and selfish. My hope in humanity has been hanging by a thread for years. Decades, some would argue. No more. It’s gone. Up and vanished like a fart in the wind. The grocery stores have been picked clean like a pack of fucking vultures, because that’s what people are. Fucking vultures. You can find photos online of people buying cartloads full of eggs and toilet paper and milk, as if nobody needs to eat but them, as if nobody needs to wipe their ass but them. Fuck those people. If you happen to see them out and about, feel free to say those words to their face. They deserve it.

If you are reading this and are one of those people, fuck you and please stop reading my shit. You are the worst type of person and I don’t want your clicks.

And then there’s the media and the politicians. Let’s start with the media. They love this shit. They can’t get enough. They can’t wait to get up in the morning and tell you the new bad news. Every article and video are designed to scare the shit out of everybody because that’s what drives ad revenue. They get off on the possibility of living in a world engulfed in flames. And the politicians can’t wait to politicize death and sickness for their own personal gain. If you’ve ever wondered if the ones you elect to office actually care about you, simply gauge their reaction to a pandemic and you’ve got your answer.

Spoiler: They don’t.

Imagine if something really bad were to go down, like a virus causing healthy thirty-somethings to drop dead in the street. It would be anarchy. Like the Simian Flu in Planet of the Apes. That might actually be worth stockpiling toilet paper.

Things on my Radar #2

Howdy, folks!

It’s always nice when goals are met. I completed the Kindle version of Front Porch Stories this week, had 53 different mockups made for advertising purposes, settled into a slightly different schedule I’ll be using moving forward, and I wasn’t eaten by cannibals. Solid week.

But that’s not why I’m here. I’ll be starting work on my new project come Monday, but right now it’s time to unload a few feelings of mine. These are the things on my radar. I’ve done this once before which you can check out here. Let’s get to it.

The holidays are always fun. There’s family and festivities and food. But it’s never intended to last forever. Once January hits, reality reemerges, and I have always been fine with that. Hell, I welcome it. I’ve always felt like having New Years Day off is pointless. We’re all going to spend the majority of the year working, so why are we ringing in the new year with a day off? It’s not indicative of how our time will be spent over the next twelve months. I guess it’s good for blackout drunks who need a day of recovery after New Years Eve. But that’s not me.

My issue this week is that the family and festivities have left while the food remains. Now, I love food, but I’ve had enough sugary junk over the last three weeks to last the next calendar year. And the people I work with keep adding more to the table where I eat lunch every day.

Stop it! The holidays are over! I can’t take it! My teeth hate me! My body hates me! I hate me!

Fortunately, I was able to reel it in after Tuesday. I felt like garbage. I was bloated. My skin was breaking out. I walked away and haven’t touched it since. It can rot or be thrown away or someone else can eat it. I’m done for a while. And wouldn’t you know that in only three days my body is back to normal and I feel great. Poison, man. Processed sugar is poison.

Let’s talk about the Golden Globes for a hot second. No, I don’t watch award shows. I don’t need to see overprivileged people pat themselves on the back for doing shit that doesn’t matter. I also don’t need to be told by these same people to “do better” in regards to the environment. You know that movie you just spent six months shooting? Yeah, that movie caused more of a carbon footprint in six months than I have in ten years. Also, all those private jets and gas spent to get you there aren’t helping your case. Neither are the thousand-dollar suits and dresses you wear one time. Fuck off.

I just found it hilarious that the only food made available at the event were vegan options. They’ve become so damn liberal they are now all caricatures.

I also find it hilarious that previous US presidents had chances to take down Iranian Major General Soleimani, who had been declared a terrorist threat, but declined due to possible “retaliations.” Then Trump comes along and is like “Fuck that guy. He’s a terrorist. Strike!”

By the way US politicians, enough with the fake outrage at taking down a dangerous terrorist threat. Your bullshit just makes the country look weak. Putin is over in Russia right now lying on a bearskin rug, shirtless, nibbling on a bowl of popcorn and laughing his ass off at how pathetic our elected individuals have become.

And, finally, let’s talk some playoff football! I went 2-2 on my picks last week. The Bills fell apart in the second half and the Seahawks beat an already broken Eagles team that got more broke when their quarterback, Wentz, was knocked out on a dirty ass hit that went uncalled. This week I’ve got all four home teams advancing; Niners, Ravens, Chiefs, and Packers. And I have the Chiefs and Packers in the Superbowl. We’ll see what happens.

The Saints lost the way they should have, in heartbreaking fashion. Fuck that dirtbag coach, his dirtbag team, those dirtbag fans, and his fake-nice-guy quarterback who promptly threw his teammates under the bus after the game when talking about a fumble that was his fault. You’re 40, have no arm strength, and only play your best when there’s a record to be broken. Go away, you stat whore.

And then there’s Brady. What a run. You’ve looked old for a while, but having arguably the best team builder in NFL history has covered up your warts. You’re not the greatest. You’ve never been the greatest. You never will be the greatest. Had you been drafted by anyone else you would have washed out of the league as a backup ten years ago. A pick-six is the most fitting way to end your legacy than I could have ever hoped for. I hope you do leave New England for an opportunity elsewhere. Because you will fail. Miserably.

As for the Panthers, I like the Matt Rhule hire. Time will tell. But right now, I’m optimistic about the future.

Peace out, homies! Till next time!

Things on my Radar

I read. A lot. Anything you put in front of me. Books. Articles. Blogs. Nutrition labels. Grocery lists. Cereal boxes. Underwear packaging. Anything. When I was signing all the mortgage papers at the closing of my house I attempted to read them all. If you’ve ever bought a house then you’re familiar with the phonebook size stack they present you with and how impossible it would be to read them all without taking a week off of work and moving in with the broker. I tried. I might be a little crazy.

I read at the same rate in which my dad listens to the news. I’m always telling him to stop doing so, that he’d be happier. I wonder if it goes both ways? I wouldn’t be happier if I stopped reading. I guess, sometimes, you just do the things you do. Coincidentally, most of my reading has come in the form of news articles. Being an opinionated guy from an opinionated family, these are the things on my radar lately.

You cannot escape the Kavanaugh drama in Washington. It is relentless and internet-consuming and exhausting. Sometimes you just want to look at puppy pictures and not constantly be reminded about how fragile the psyche of our elected officials are. Here’s the truth: it’s embarrassing, but not for the reasons they keep giving you. It’s embarrassing that the so-called “leaders” of this country are holding a person’s feet to the fire over something that may or may not have happened in high school under the influence. Really? If that’s the new standard then everyone up on Capitol Hill needs to be swept away because there’s not a soul there that didn’t do something they regret when they were young.

People grow up and change. I don’t give a shit about party lines. Hell, the party system in America is one of the biggest problems we have. It discourages individuality and critical thinking. Everyone needs to have a mind of their own. If he’s right for the Supreme Court, put him in. If he’s not, move on and find someone else. Don’t give me accusations and he said-she said drivel from thirty-four years ago.

Al Roker has also caught my ire, but it isn’t necessarily his fault. I’ve always found him to be an affable, lovable man. He would probably make a great neighbor. But I’ll be the first to admit that his presence and purpose baffle me on many levels. But that’s an entirely different rabbit hole altogether. What I’m referring to specifically is the reception he received on the Today show following his return from surgery. You see, ole weatherman Al had emergency surgery on his thumb and was back at work the next day and his coworkers just couldn’t believe it.

“Only Al Roker would come to work the day after having surgery!”

It was thumb surgery! He’s a TV weatherman! His job is to stand around and update the weather and pretend like Hota Kotb is an interesting person! He’s not moving boxes all day or typing away on a computer! He should have been back the next day! The man could literally have both of his thumbs removed and it wouldn’t affect his job performance at all! And am I the only one still disturbed by the fact that he lost all this weight but still has a fat-guy head?

Does anyone remember Jersey Shore? Remember The Situation? He was the guy that was real proud of his abs. That probably describes most of the douchebags on that show. I’ve honestly never seen an episode. Anyway, he’s going to prison. Yep, for tax evasion. So let me get this straight. You made a boatload of money being a narcissistic, irritating, Italian caricature of a man? AKA: being yourself. And then decided not to pay your taxes? And then further decided to falsify documents? Makes sense. I expected nothing less. Have fun trying on those dresses for Tiny down in cellblock D.

Quick story: I once met a girl during my brief community college stint that was quite attractive and seemed interesting. Then she relayed to me how big of a Jersey Shore fan she was and the attraction immediately died. If that makes me wrong, I don’t want to be right.