It All Seemed to Make So Much Sense

I was born the same year Dwight David Eisenhower was elected President, though I had no knowledge or any memory of my life with him as the Chief Executive. I remember being in the third grade at Pine Grove Manor School when Nixon and Kennedy ran for the White House. 

Politically astute even then, I recall a very wise fourth-grader telling me that if Nixon were elected, kids would have to go to school on Saturday. That's when I decided to back Jack. There you have it, for all those who've suspected I am a Democratic left-leaning pinko liberal loser, that may have been the moment the road to perdition was paved.

Too many years later, I'm not sure I understand what has happened to the country I grew up in, returned to, and have grown old in. We had so much go so well for so long, we don't seem to have any stomach for hard work or truth anymore. Our institutions, which have always buttressed our way of life, from finances through relationships, are pretty much bankrupt, and we don't seem to have the will or wallet to repair or replace them.

We've spent most of the last score of years in free fall, and when I say "we," I mean what was once considered the middle class. For the better part of a decade, we watched billionaire oligarchs trade blue skies for BMWs, wash their cigar boats with bottled water, and elevate day-trading to an Olympic event. 

Meanwhile, for tens of millions of Americans, the promise of prosperity remained a rumor, so while we lament what happened, some of our neighbors never had even the sniff of that in the first place, and now look at us as if we've lost our minds, and maybe we have.

Pick a place and space. Be it micro or macro, it's almost always the same movie, just with a different cast. We have trouble, not with leaning forward and looking ahead, with my apologies to Alvin Toffler's Future Shock, but with accepting where we are and why we will be here for the rest of our days if we don't change the way we are. What I call Present Shock.

At both the national and local levels, it seems there are two ways to manage Present Shock. One is to do nothing but say no and insist that those in power are to blame for whatever we now see as a failure. The other response is to just keep pressing the same button even though the pellets stopped dropping a long time ago. 

We're working very hard here to break the cycle and seize the day and the momentum, but there's still a longing for what was. If it could only be yesterday tomorrow, then today would be wonderful. 

We've failed to realize that (too) often the only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth (of the habit) and that sound of footsteps we hear belongs to ourselves as we calculate the distance we'd need to outrun our own shadow. But after a while you realize time flies. 
-bill kenny

Don't Hold Your Breath

I was going to call this Seeds & Stems, but that's a blast from my past that none of us should want to revisit. Still think the Zig-Zag rolling papers guy might well have been Jesus; perhaps a discussion for another time (post-Lent)?

But since we're on the subject of seeds, I like seedless grapes of just about any color, but mostly green. I see seedless watermelons in my grocery stores all summer long. What I've never spent a lot of time contemplating is how all that comes to be. 

It seems like a very adult version of 'which came first, the chicken or the egg?' and copying off your neighbors' paper is frowned upon. C'mon, I can't be the only one mulling this whole thing over right now. We have acorns to grow oak trees and dandelion seeds to grow weeds, to say nothing of red ball caps to grow....moving right along. On the other hand, if you plant bird seed, you don't get the first robin of spring or the bluebird of happiness.

Where was I? Right! Seeds. It turns out plants are older than seeds by hundreds of millions of years. (Don't look a day over three hundred million in my opinion). And as an FYI, there's no truth to the urban legend that Cheerios are actually bagel seeds. Happy to clear that up for you.
-bill kenny

The Other SOTU

Big night and big doings under the Capitol Dome. Lights, cameras, bedazzlement! The President of the United States delivers his State of the Union Address. 

"...and I've eliminated those transgender mice!"

Why?
Article II, Section 3 of the U.S. Constitution mandates that the President "from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient". This duty ensures Congress is informed on the nation's condition and acts as a legislative roadmap for the President's agenda.

Unless you haven't been paying attention since the inauguration, you already know his agenda.

I no longer wonder how we got here.

Or here.

I worry about how we return to one nation.
-bill kenny

Manna from Heaven (almost)

As you should have long since sussed if you've popped in and read anything that's been posted here for most of the last decade, I'm not a big fan of the current occupant of the White House. I have a great deal of difficulty identifying a solitary redeeming characteristic unless we count comic relief.

That's really not surprising, considering he's a convicted felon, among other adjudicated findings. But you know how they say 'water seeks its own level?' A quick look at his cabinet confirms the wisdom of that saying, and just when you think it can't get any worse, you have Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., the gift who keeps on giving. 

I'm assuming/hoping there's a slide show or an interactive video to support the new guidelines. I cannot wait to see it, I think.
-bill kenny

Paging Carl Douglas

I'm showing my age when I mention Carl Douglas. More than one of you may wonder how he's related to Kirk or Michael Douglas, and more than one of you would be very wrong. 

Carl, of course, was the performer of this classic toe tapper (not to be confused with Jake Tapper). I wasn't necessarily a fan of it, but Flo & Eddie's strong negative feelings put my opinion in the shade. 

Between you and me, I'm surprised all these decades later that someone hasn't re-roasted Carl's chestnut and presented it to us on something like America's Got Talent or The Masked Singer, two shows I have never watched, which is why I think they would be the perfect platforms to launch the revival. 

I found just the video to complement the song. No need to thank me.
-bill kenny

Dorothy and Toto Think Otherwise

I'm on peritoneal dialysis (and hoping to be considered for a transplant) because my kidneys have been failing for years and can no longer do the job they were designed for. 

I have a lot of time all night, every night, as my cycler goes through its "Fill, Dwell, and Drain" cycle, to marvel at how complex a machine our bodies are.  

Scarecrow, Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion notwithstanding, there are five organs we can live without, if we have to. 

If you're waiting for a joke or a quip, hope you packed a lunch, as I don't have one, but I was wondering if I could swap a kidney for a gallbladder.
-bill kenny

Put Me In, Coach

We've had perhaps more than a fair amount of snow this winter (so far, and maybe we're not done with the white stuff yet). It's February in New England, I get that. But I'm all kinds of warm inside as Major League Baseball returns today when the Boys of Summer start spring training games.  

I know it's 'not real baseball' and 'the games don't count,' but a boy can dream. Spring training games are to Doubleday's delight what Velveeta is to cheese, but until the games start to count, I'm willing to grin and bear it (and eat it up with a spoon, preferably out of an ice cream sundae baseball helmet snack bowl). 

Sometimes the best reason to hit the ballpark

And if the joy of baseball's return isn't quite enough for you, here's a brainteaser that will keep you occupied.

I know, 'just a bit outside.'
-bill kenny