Diablo

 

 

I wasn’t going to walk today. Those Diablo Winds…they’re kicking up again, making the dust fly, the trees fall, and my head ache. But I needed to get out of the house. The Pandemic Couch Potato situation is bad. All day at the computer yesterday and no time for the evening walk.

            And, so this morning, when I saw those Diablo Winds hurling through the avocado tree, I hesitated. Honestly, I just didn’t want to go outside.

            Yet, once I was out, tromping up my street, I immediately felt better. Despite the wind. tt’s good to move. And though I am so missing the swimming lately---the fall winds don’t help the cold---and I’m sick of walking, honestly, I am---I always feel better walking.

            Until….a Dog!

            I am SO sick of the dogs! This one spies me from her front porch. She’s a BIG grey pitbull with a snowy brisket. As I approach her house, she eyes me, longingly? Damn, I think, I hope I don’t get attacked this morning. That would make the winds pale in comparison, right? 

  The other day, when I approached the Taxidermist’s house, a ferocious little monster of a mutt charged me, its little dirty teeth bared and snarling. Its bright eyes focused on biting biting biting me. I stood still and just screamed! And screamed. The beast continued its attack, coming at me with no sign of stopping. Then, because of my screams? The Taxidermist appeared, scooped up the little monster, and carried it back to his ramshackle house. The Floaty Piano teacher appeared, and Taxidermist hissed at her, “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be watchin’ him! You’re drunk! You don’t know what is going on!”

            I didn’t stick around to hear her response. Part of me wanted to stop and yell at them. Demand that they keep their dog from running loose, terrorizing innocent walkers, demand an apology. But a bigger part of me just wanted to get away. And so I did, remembering how a few years back, way before the Pandemic, I’d walked past this house and the dogs had startled me with their barking. I had yelped. The Taxidermist had merely laughed at me, “What you screaming about? They’re tied up. They ain’t gonna get you.”

            “How the hell do I know that?”
            “Hee hee hee, Lady, just look at them!”
At the time I had been incensed. What an asshole! So now, when the ferocious beast had escaped under the drunk piano teacher’s watch, I wasn’t entirely surprised.

            Why do I keep walking past their house?

            I’ve since changed my route.

            Back to this morning: my fear kicked in as soon as I spied the Pit. But then the owner appeared; she’d been pulling weeds in the shadows. “Oh,” I exclaimed. “Is your dog…?”
            “She’s fine. She won’t hurt you. She just thinks everything is about her. That everyone is here to see her.”

            “Ah…” Of course, from a dog’s perspective, that must be true. Why else would I be walking by her house if not to visit her?

            “But don’t you worry. She a good girl.”

            “An angel, no doubt!”

            “You got that right!”

            “What’s her name?”

            “Quanti.”

            I think to myself, what the hell does Quanti mean? Is it short for quantify? Hardly likely. People have the strangest names for their pets. I don’t ask today, though, what this means, but walk on, waving goodbye to Quanti, who now watches me mournfully from the porch. Why didn’t I come up and pet her? Don’t I have a treat for her? Can’t she come with me?

            I often think if I had a dog of my own to walk with me, I might fare better with all the dog attacks and anxiety. But maybe not. I see people struggling with their dogs when they pass houses with other dogs behind tall fences. There is always much ferocious barking and pulling of leashes. Nope, I don’t need this.

            I am one of the few walkers without a dog in my neighborhood. I’ll keep it this way.

            A huge ugly gust of wind whips around me as I head up the next block. Diablo. A menace. Fires. Drought. Ions. I need to get back home, out of the wind. Back to my house. My cat. My shelter. No dogs to contend with there. Only the ongoing Couch Potato Pandemic. Will it ever end?

The Truck and Trump

 

 

Marching up 31^st , I hear a man’s voice yelling. As I cross Clinton, I see him, scrawny and talkative, wearing a wrinkled red t-shirt and hanging down jeans. Who’s he yelling at? There must be someone on the other side of the street he’s aiming his hollering at. Yet I don’t see anyone at this point.

            “And I need a new truck!” he hollers. “But I can’t afford one now. If Trump, he get elected, I buy a new truck. But if That Other Guy wins, then I won’t. I don’t think he so good for the economy.”

            Huh? I shake my head as I walk by, invisible to Truck Man and now another older gent who’s cleaning out his car, who barely seems to be listening.  If Truck Guy needs a new truck now and he can’t afford it and Trump has been in charge of the economy for the last 4 years, then why does he think that his circumstances will change if Trump remains in power? I mean, c’mon, dude. You need a truck. You can’t afford one. Trump won’t give you one!

            And ‘The Other Guy’? Like Truck Man doesn’t even know Biden’s name? Sometimes I think that Trump gains a lot of supporters because of his name. It’s easy to pronounce and has instant recognition as a Big Man in Business. Hence the assumption that the economy will improve.

            I don’t know about you, Truck Man, or actually, now I do, but my economic situation has gone down the tubes since Trump has been in office. I’ve been laid off my full-time job, been on and off unemployment for the last two years, scrambled to make ends meet with part time teaching and editing jobs.

            Good thing I don’t need a New Truck!

            I always think I’m in the Bay Area bubble of only democrats with their Biden lawn signs and Anti-Trump venom. But then, out I walk in my neighborhood and overhear first hand how a Trump supporter thinks. Trump equals a booming economy.

            Again, it baffles me. I know I’m just one person who’s had a rough time financially, but let’s widen the circle. My Significant Other has completely lost his job and is living off social security and a small nest egg from the sale of the family farm. Granted, COVID was the catalyst for his loss of a job, but hell, isn’t Trump responsible for the severity of the pandemic, too? I mean, over and over we’re hearing now how he knew about the lethalness of this virus, back in January. And he hid it! He didn’t want to ‘panic’ the populace!

            I don’t know about you, but I’m a lot more panicked now that over 100,000 people have died in the US. Think of the lives that might have been saved if we’d know about the deadliness of the virus back in January. The precautions that we could have taken.

            Do you think massive death causes economic growth?

            And, to widen the circle further than my significant other, I can look at my friends and their financial woes. One a lifer bookseller who has had his hours drastically cut unless he wants to risk his life and work the counter again. Others are teachers and editors who have lost their gigs, with no guarantee of ever getting this work back.

            Yet, still…..People believe that Trump is good for the economy.

            I don’t know about you, and frankly, I don’t know what Biden and Harris are going to do specifically about the economy, but I can only imagine that they’ll be better than what we have. Why their promise to keep the Affordable Care Act is an economic boost right there! Imagine if I lost this? I wouldn’t be able to afford any health care. If I got COVID or Cancer or was felled by a stroke, too bad.

            So, Truck Man, I really hope that you get your truck. I do. But voting for Trump ain’t how this is gonna happen.

            Just examine your circumstances now. Are you better off than you were 4 years ago?

            I bet not. But then, I don’t know you. You’d have to think. And sadly, thinking and the lack thereof might be what keeps Trump in the Whitehouse.

            So, think about it people! I realize that most of the readers of this blog will agree with me, but to those who don’t…..: VOTE for Biden. That Other Guy is a whole lot better than the lying crook we’ve got in power now. For the economy. For the Affordable Care Act. For Democracy. For civility. For justice. For trucks!

           

MOON RIVER

 

“MYYYYYY HUCKLEBERRRRRY FRIEND!!!!” A booming baritone floats out of the Sports House. Usually, when I walk past this place, there are loud blaring sports events blasting out the open screen door, filling the block with announcers’ nasal play-by-plays and cheering crowds (fake cheers now?)

            But this morning, as I stomp down 31^st  near the end of my walk, I hear these lyrics, sung slightly off tune, to Moon River. My favorite song when I was 5 years old. I remember I would go around and announce to anyone who would listen to me, “You know what my favorite song is?” “No, Carol, what is your favorite song?” “Moon River!” And I’d dance around in delight, spinning to the tune of Mancini and Mercer.

            I am not sure why I chose this as a favorite song. Probably because it was one of those songs that my parents played in the evenings, cocktail time, Cutty Sark clinking in thick glasses, Mancini pouring out of the stereo. My dad grinning and humming to the music, a peaceful happy aura around him.

            The song, now, brings back this time to me. It evokes feelings of safety and routine. When I hear this music of my childhood, whether it’s Mancini or Sinatra, I feel a wave of contentment and happiness swell inside of me, corny as that sounds.

            But isn’t music like this? It evokes an emotion and it brings us back to a place and a time when we first heard it? I know that whenever I hear Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, I picture my mother at the piano, hitting those big chords, her hands dancing down the keyboard. I was in love and in awe. With both Gershwin and her.

            So today, when I hear Moon River and how it brings me back to my childhood, I wonder if the singer in the Sports House has a story about the song. Probably. He certainly was feeling it! And the line, “My Huckleberry Friend” that caught my ear this morning, I have to smile to myself. I’ve always wondered what that phrase meant—my huckleberry friend. Was this a friend you collected huckleberries with? And what were huckleberries even? And was this a special sort of outing, collecting huckleberries?

            I’ve always wondered. It has such a romantic ring to it. The whole song does. Anything having to do with the Moon, right? Clair de Lune, Moon over Miami, Moonstruck---was that a song, or just a movie with Cher in it?

            In any case, Moon River is a song about longing. About taking that trip down the wide magical river to a place that is far far away from our everyday lives.

            And isn’t that what we are all hungering for right now during this Pandemic? To travel to a distant, romantic, ethereal place full of magic, movement and friendship…..

            As I walk around the block, up Roosevelt, I hum the tune to myself, feeling a warmth rise up within me. I wait at the corner as a driver barely stops at the stop sign, fiddling with his phone or a cigarette, before I turn down my street and head for home.

Andy Williams: Moon River

That Idiot Trump

 

“Who knows what comes?…… Yeah…uh, uh…. Did you see that Idiot, Trump, got It? Ha ha ha haaa!”

There is a Diabolical Glee to his chuckle. Sitting on his porch, with a black mask on and a fluffy little dog at his side, the man shifts the phone to his other ear, continues on with his conversation that I don’t hear the rest of. I’m walking.

            And I’ve heard enough.

            I have to admit, when I first heard the news of Trump contracting the coronavirus, I thought to myself, well no surprise. The guy has been flaunting the public health protocols of wearing a mask, social distancing and testing since the pandemic started. The arrogance of his invincibility has finally caught up with him. Serves him right.

            But then as I think about, I wonder, what now? Will all the staff of the White House come down with the Virus? And then what? Who will run the country?

            Part of me thinks that NOT having Trump running the country would be great. He’s a nasty misogynist racist dictator who’s done whatever he wants for the last 4 years. Including ignoring the severity of this pandemic. Yet…..another part of me is scared. What will happen now? Trump was helicoptered off to the hospital yesterday. There was much speculating on Stephen Colbert about whether this was because Trump was very sick or if they were just being cautious because it was the President of the US.

            Who know? It’s not like this administration has ever been ‘transparent’ with the public. There has always been a blatant disregard for the populace, including denial about the severity of this pandemic. As a result, both Trump and Melania are sick now --and she may fare better ---being younger and slimmer in her spike heels and slender suits---at least she looks good! Whereas he’s old and obese and high blood pressured and who knows what other underlying conditions he has—all add to his risk at getting very sick or even dying.

            Would this be a good thing? To have him die? Again, part of me can’t help but think, he deserves it. But a bigger part of me, like Colbert was saying last night, is that after all, he is a person, a human being, albeit an evil one, and so we should treat him with compassion and humanity.

            Really?
            I just can’t feel that sorry for him. And, while I’m worried about what comes next, I still can’t help but think that Trump asked for this. He was just playing with fire the last 7 months by disregarding all the warnings from his health officials. I mean, what’s up with huge rallies for his campaign and NO ONE wearing masks or social distancing? What did anyone expect?

            But in spite of this ‘Duh’ Factor, I still am in a state of shock. It’s not a good situation as my students would say.

            What comes next? Who knows?

            I just hope that Trump gets pretty sick, you know? And then does recover. But if he doesn’t get sick, then he’ll just use this to say, “See? I told you so! This Virus is no threat. I’m fine. We’re all fine. It’s not a big deal. I’m great. I’m fantastic. Some stupid little Virus can’t keep me down! Don’t worry people!”

            Never mind the fact that over 200,000 people have died in the US so far. That over 1 million people have died world-wide.

            But no big deal. The virus isn’t a threat. Go back to work. Go back to dinners out. Go back to normal.

            It’s all a hoax.

            Really, Donald? How you feelin today? Like it’s no big deal?

            I bet not. I just bet the hell not as you lie in your hospital bed running the country in a Virus Induced Fevered Haze.

            I sure hope nothing else happens while he’s in the hospital. Cuz, you know, what will Pence do?

            I don’t even want to know!