Which means it’s fall everywhere, of course, but for some reason the autumnal equinox doesn’t mean much to this part of the country. The world does its annual tilt further away from the sun and it’s celebrated here with 95 degree days and dehydration and underarm sweat rings that rival anything encircling Saturn. Seasons don’t change the color of a leaves here It’s the summer’s blast furnace.
It’s been a very, very hot summer indeed and seemingly longer than usual, rife with violence and mayhem. There was the El Paso Walmart shooting, and the next day, the massacre at the nightclub in Dayton. Both tragedies were turned into horrible, self-serving bi-partisan political circuses. Fund raising, habeas corpus style.
I don’t live in San Antonio (gracias a Dios!!) but all my news which I NEVER watch or read or listen to comes from that market. After conveying news to people in four different Texas markets after a 32 year career in Broadcast Journalism, I loathe the news and the way the media is behaving these days makes me embarrassed to have ever entered the field. I’m still just enough Catholic to remember that Francis de Sales is the Patron Saint of Journalists and Writers and since the lead up to the 2016 election, he has got to be looking a helluva lot like this these days.
Embarrassed and probably pleading with God for another war time assignment.
Our news options now aren’t options at all, at least not to me. There’s no truly neutral place for news. And please don’t make any suggestions: I’ve tried them all. I’ve found no fair and balanced middle ground anywhere.
But here’s my deal. Unlike many people, I have no real problem with Trump. I like him if truth be told and while he can say cringeworthy things that make me shudder, I do like that he has brass ones. That’s being as presidential to me in this crazy ass world as being briefed on the proper way to greet the leader of the Kunari tribe in Africa’s East Nile region. But even so, I don’t want to be ensconced in pro-Trump or negative Trump news all the damn time.
And all the ridiculous talk about Democratic Socialism??? It makes more sense to discuss a war among Apple trees.
And uh…..hey, is it just me or does this Wizard of Oz Apple tree bear a slight resemblance to the late White House Reporter, Helen Thomas?
Ok, getting back on topic, Adam Sandler winning a Best Actor Oscar stands a better chance of socialism taking over or…or…or…anyone ever laying eyes on a photo circulating of the late NYC socialite and 60’s era Goodson/Toddman game show doyenne, Kitty Carlisle wolfing down a Big Mac at McDonalds circa 1971.
Ain’t never gonna happen. At least, I pray to God it doesn’t.
Still, I can’t help but envision the ghosts Marx and Lenin in cheerleading uniforms, arms on each other’s shoulders shouting, “Davy Crockett was a pioneer, Kurds are nomads, come on Америка, let’s be Komrads!!
While I’m news ignorant by choice, I’ll hear people talk about the increase in murders, burglaries, mugging, rapes and drive by shootings that plague SA, examples of just the many negatives one might experience while living in or near a major metropolitan area.
So, I stay in my the safe confines of my tastefully appointed home, wishing Peter Dinklage we’re taller or I were shorter. I think a lot about my life and how I constantly try to emotionally carve out all the memories of embarrassing ass-hattery I all too frequently exhibited. I think about first kisses and last kisses and the kindest break up I ever experienced (there weren’t any). I think of unique ways I quit jobs and painful ways jobs quit me. I think about all the people in and near my life who have died since 2000 and others that will someday exit this mortal coil….myself included. I mourn the loss of MTV as music television and laugh whenever Madonna refers to herself as an artist. I consider suing Burger King for false advertising because their hamburgers look nothing like they do in the commercials. I look under my bed and find odd things, such as a very old opened peanut butter jar with some fern like plant growing out of it.
I actually debate transplanting it.
I turn on my Ring security cameras on the creek side of my house and watch deer, gray foxes, coyotes, skunks, armadillos, porcupines, possums, rats and something that looks like a bi-pedal Beluga whale, probably seeking revenge on me for eating so many of her unborn children.
My life is a interestingly boring masala comprised of a single woman who is 60, feels 91, but thinks she’s still 24.
And based on the oniony/cumin smell emanating from my armpits, one who also needs a shower. Hurry cooler temps.
Fah who foraze! Dah who doraze!
Welcome autumn Bring your cheer!
Fah who foraze! Dah who doraze!
Welcome Fall to those far and near!
