It’s been a particularly desk bound kind
of week at work which combined with the persistent week long drizzle that has
defined this spring I was aching to get outside for a little bit. Last evening
offered an opportunity even though it was still overcast. I had a couple hours
before the daily deluge was scheduled. My Favorite Panamanian has been after me
to build one of my retaining walls around part of her vast garden complex. I
got to work shortly after returning home and by the time the sun set had
accounted for all of the stones I had purchased the past weekend. I spent the
last few minutes wandering around the lawn using the sod I had displaced to
patch bare spots. I’ll finish it up this weekend which I’m promised will
actually sport some sunshine.
 |
| FBR Heading Out for Pre-School Yesterday |
Earlier in the day we met with the air
conditioning contractor which is the last phase of the new master bedroom
construction. We love our split air conditioning system, especially compared to
what central air costs in electricity. It turned out the new bedroom is too far
from the existing system to branch from
but he was able to come up with some options which will have that room
cooled by the time the real hot weather kicks in, if it ever does in this
doleful year. He also had some ideas about using the unit from our old master
bedroom to cool down the other two bedrooms.
 |
| The Newest Wall |
In big family news Wingman has achieved yet another level of celebrity. He was selected as a hand model!!! The below advertisement for his restaurant features his hands pouring a drink. To think I'll be able to tell people I knew him before the launch of this new phase of his career. The FBR didn't seem that impressed though but she's a tough audience.
The Twitterer in Chief is our problem
and I don’t usually ascribe or even take note of what foreign opinion is, especially
the snarky British, because Americans are hard to understand if you’re not part
of our incredible stew. A couple friends posted the below however and it
captured so many of the issues I have with our current president that I had to
include it here. The hope springs eternal for some sort leader capable of
bi-partisanism but we certainly don’t have it now. I don’t apologize if this
offends anyone because it is the most accurate caricature of our president that
I’ve read so far. This isn’t about his policies – it’s about the man.
Someone
asked "Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?" Nate White,
an articulate and witty writer from England, wrote this magnificent response: "A
few things spring to mind. Trump lacks certain qualities which the British
traditionally esteem. For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no
credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no
sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour and no grace - all
qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously
blessed. So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw Trump’s limitations
into embarrassingly sharp relief.
Plus,
we like a laugh. And while Trump may be laughable, he has never once said
anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing - not once, ever. I don’t say that
rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is
particularly disturbing to the British sensibility - for us, to lack humour is
almost inhuman. But with Trump, it’s a fact. He doesn’t even seem to understand
what a joke is - his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a
casual act of cruelty.
Trump
is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only
crows or jeers. And scarily, he doesn’t just talk in crude, witless insults -
he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty
prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness. There is never any under-layer of irony,
complexity, nuance or depth. It’s all surface. Some Americans might see this as
refreshingly upfront. Well, we don’t. We see it as having no inner world, no
soul.
And
in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are
plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist. Trump is neither
plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that. He’s not even a
spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat. He’s more a fat white slug. A Jabba the
Hutt of privilege. And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the
British: a bully. That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly
transforms into a snivelling sidekick instead.
There
are unspoken rules to this stuff - the Queensberry rules of basic decency - and
he breaks them all. He punches downwards - which a gentleman should, would,
could never do - and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly
likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless - and he kicks them when they are
down.
So
the fact that a significant minority - perhaps a third - of Americans look at
what he does, listen to what he says, and then think 'Yeah, he seems like my
kind of guy’ is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British
people, given that:
* Americans are supposed to be nicer than us,
and mostly are.
* You don't need a particularly keen eye for
detail to spot a few flaws in the man.
This
last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many
other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss. After all, it’s
impossible to read a single tweet, or hear him speak a sentence or two, without
staring deep into the abyss. He turns being artless into an art form; he is a
Picasso of pettiness; a Shakespeare of shit. His faults are fractal: even his
flaws have flaws, and so on ad infinitum. God knows there have always been
stupid people in the world, and plenty of nasty people too. But rarely has
stupidity been so nasty, or nastiness so stupid. He makes Nixon look
trustworthy and George W look smart. In fact, if Frankenstein decided to make a
monster assembled entirely from human flaws - he would make a Trump. And a
remorseful Doctor Frankenstein would clutch out big clumpfuls of hair and
scream in anguish: 'My God… what… have… I… created? If being a twat was a TV
show, Trump would be the boxed set."
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RECURRING
CHARACTERS
BRS
- Blog Reader the Sequel
- second granddaughter; FBR - First Blog
Reader - first granddaughter, ABFA –
Amazing Best Family Athlete = my daughter in law, formerly known both as MEF – Most Excellent Fiancé & MEG –
Most Excellent Girlfriend; Wingman
– my son in law; Keene Friends 1 & 2
– friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great Aunt = my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade
school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract
women; Pittsburgh College Roommate –
high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which
grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two
close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3rd musquetera
(musketeer); Buddy – AKA the Wonder
Pooch – family dog, a black lab – hates squirrels, died in 2017; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy,
son's dog, surrogate grandchild while awaiting arrival of the BRS; PanaGals – female relatives/friends of
my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin
Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we
have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood
Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member, Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of
course); First Friday – celebrations
to mark the First Friday of the Week; Excellent
Boss – my former direct boss at work; Deckzilla
Dude – senior citizen carpenter/contractor; Voices of Inappropriate Worth - members of public who come to every
Worcester public meeting to complain, all are on public assistance along with
demeanor issues
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