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Sunday, October 14, 2018

Fringeville #188: Things that keep me up at night...





Last night's insomnia diary:

I woke at 2:30 and gave up trying to go back to sleep at 3:30.  These were the things that kept me up, in no particular order:
 

1)  I didn't even watch the freaking game, and I kept waking up thinking it was 2017 and Penn State had dropped two nail-biters in a row to Ohio State and Michigan State. This is the worst kind of way to wake up, because I thought I was turning 60 in a coupla-two-tree weeks. Then I realized I am over that hill almost a year and closing in on 61. Thanks for nuttin' Coach Franklin.

2)  I preach a little preach on incivility, only to find my former party's candidate for Governor of Pennsylvania wants to dance on current and likely to be re-elected Governor Tom Wolf's face with golf spikes. Classy. And to top it off, some ultra right-wing group called the Proud Boys are being investigated for stomping on protesters after a New York City Republican Club event. So I guess calls for reason and sanity are worthless across the board. (I'm actually stunned there is a Republican Club in NYC. I only came aware of it after it was vandalized recently by apparent anarchists. Republicans...IN NEW YORK CITY. Those two folks have a lot going on right now.)

3)  Trouble breathing. 'Nuff said about that. As long as I keep waking up, no need to whine.

4)  I am slowly working through Ben Bradlee Jr's book on Luzerne County, The Forgotten.

Of course, like any else I immediately went looking for my own name in the book. And there it was, in the chapter focusing on a white nationalist. And my mention was preceded by a paragraph that suggests I and others praised that person.

I talked to Mr. Bradlee for a goodly chunk of time. I pointed out that the person of interest (I'm not naming him, go buy the damned book for yourself) kept his head down and his views to himself. That isn't praise it is a statement of fact. 

No mention was made that I told Mr. Bradlee this person and I could not be farther apart in ideology. Why does this wake me up at night? Because if I'm going to be a tiny lil' footnote in history, I don't want it to be that particular footnote. But what I've read so far does show Mr. Bradlee put a lot of research into this book. It's worth the investment to buy it and read it.

For the record:  I condemn racists. All racists. I am a lover of all humanity, and frankly I don't fit anywhere in politics these days. Rant done.

5)  I woke up this morning because the cat did NOT run across my head at any point last night. He's good for doing that 5-10 times a night. I am his own personal amusement park. He took the night off, and apparently that drove me nutz. I think he did this on purpose.




6)  Bills. I woudn't be human if I didn't worry about those. But with the limits of my mortality becoming ever-so-slightly evident, I worry more.

I'm not worried about retirement. There will be none.

I'd just like to somehow put enough aside so the missus can bury me proper instead of next to her favorite cat in the backyard. Which she won't do, because the cat apparently had standards. But I have a nice alternate plot picked out underneath where I used to grill all the artery-closing things I used to eat.

If I get a two-hour warning from God on my expiration time, I'm grilling a big-ass burger and going out like a man. Oh, and a Yuengling while I cook. And maybe some wings to kickstart the appetite.  If you see me in the supermarket buying burgers, get the hell out of my way: the clock is ticking and there's grilling to be done.

7)  Deafness. Again. I'm fine, but the external CI hardware is old and finicky. Come March, it will no longer be supported. I've already lost one round to the insurance company, so there will probably be another round of friendly fisticuffs next year.

8)  I will never be as good-looking as the Yonk or Gort. It is a cross I bear. I will also never be the blogger either of them are. But they will never match me making stuffed Old Forge pizza. Which I can no longer eat, but which I may bake just to stick my finger in fate's eye.


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...'nuff whining. Be good to each other...

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My motto is be good to each other. In that spirit, keep it clean on the comments. Personal attacks, nasty language, and any disdain of chicken wings will not be tolerated.