Never Bored

I will never be bored.  There are so many things to learn and do.  I don't understand when people say they are bored.  I simply don't get it.  There's ALWAYS something to do......learn about retirement strategies, learn a foreign language, take the dog for a walk, clean up the dog's poop, weed the garden, learn to play an instrument.

If you're bored then you're boring.  If you don't like to be alone you're not in very good company. 

Blaming Insurance Companies

Here's the front page of the Santa Rosa Press Democrat

Y

Yes, their insurance is running out.  However, the article fails to specify exactly how the insurance companies failed to fulfill what was in the policy.  Payouts are determined by the policy purchased.  Many insureds opted for subpar coverage with lower premiums thinking they could save a few bucks.  They gambled thinking they would never need the coverage.  They lost the bet.  The insureds got exactly what their policy entailed.  I know blaming insurance companies is easy and convenient.  Everybody hates them and they are easy targets.  How 'bout some personal responsibility on the insureds part for choices made? 

No......it's so much easier to blame somebody else, stage a protest, whine, and try to get somebody else to pay. 

No, I'm not politically correct but I write the truth.  Sorry if you can't handle it. 

Pac Man Fever

This will resonate with the parents of the video game generation.  Come on, I can still see you all hovering over the Pac Man arcade game with your wrists and faces all twisted trying to get whatever the prize was. 

Attempted Murder Trial

I can't make this stuff up, people.  I've been called to act as a character witness for an attempted murder trial on behalf of the defendant who was once my boss.  It's a long, LONG complicated story and history we share that spans several decades and layers upon layers of social circles.  It would take at least a week and a couple bottles of wine to explain it all. 

Why me?  Why was I called to be a character witness?  I have not seen Boss in about 10 years.  It was not even Boss who called me.  It was his over-controlling-money-grubbing wife who made initial contact with me. 

Whatever.  There are things I learned from Boss that I carry with me to this day that could never be taught in school.  He was a great coach.  He was extremely tough and held high standards, and he taught me to be tough as well.  He did have a temper, but so do I and I gave it right back.  Was he violent?  No.  Did he get angry.  Yes.  I've witnessed many times where his face would get red.  I knew that was the precursor to the verbal vomit that was about to erupt. 

Yes, Boss liked to drink and there were times when I would be the one driving him back after an alcohol infused two-martini (at least) power lunch with his posse.  Did Boss try to kill somebody (again, long complicated story)?  My opinion is no but I'm certain Boss got *REALLY* P.O'ed and made it be known he was no longer fooling around.  

Sugar Bear - Coco Puffs - Lucky Charms - Kool Aid

Remember the 70's?  You know, when we all indulged in just about everything before we found out it was bad for us?  It was the decade of the toxins that were all packaged up and sold to us kids through advertising.  No wonder we are all 300 pounds, diabetic, and have cancer.  

Seriously, we were KIDS when this crap was marketed to us.  We begged our parents to buy it for us as everything on TV is cool and correct.  The marketing execs knew exactly what they were doing.  The way to profits was through the kids' whiny demands. Thank goddesses in a weird way that my parents could not afford packaged foods.  At the time I thought I was the biggest low-life on the planet bringing a plain and boring APPLE (OMG so embarrassing - kill me now) to school as a snack opposed to the fancy-shmancy packaged stuff the other kids had.  The cool kids went to McDonald's at least once a week.  My family never had fast food nor went out to eat.  We had to eat the stuff my grandparents grew and raised on the farm.  Boring and soooooooo uncool.  I was humiliated by my brown paper bag (not the neat-o Charlie's Angels lunch box the "in" girls had) and my boring paper bag filled with boring farm food stuffs. 

Remember Sugar Bear?  This will take you down memory lane.  Sugar as nutritious?  Surely you jest.  Surely Sugar Bear knew....


Remember the Kool-Aid Man?  He crashed through walls to sell us artificially flavored powder that was somehow made "healthy" by mom adding just a cup of sugar.


Remember Lucky Charms?   I just wanted to marshmallows and skip the oats. 

The Lung

I had a dream about an ex-boyfriend last night,  Granted, the relationship did not end well.  However, I had always hoped that there would be some sort of closure someday despite the lack of it at the time the break up happened. 

Whatever.  The breakup happened without any proper closure.  I guess it bugs me more than it could ever bug him, otherwise he would have said something to the like of, "Well, sorry, it just didn't work out between us and I wish you the best for what lies ahead."

Nope.  He said nothing.  No good-bye, kiss my *ss, see you later, thanks for the good times, nothing.  NOTHING. 

Now, back to the dream.  In the dream my ex-boyfriend was showing me sections of his chest where his lung was infected.  He was telling me of the discoloration, the rashes, etc., and what his prognosis was.  He is sick.  I don't know what he wants me to do about it.  He has burned all his bridges and everybody who could have possibly cared about him has abandoned him because he's been such an asshole and has only cared about himself.  No, he abandoned everybody else because we all got sick of placating to his narcissistic tenancies and he could not handle any criticism about himself. 

I did not know what he wanted to accomplish by communicating his sickness to me.  He has ignored me for several years.  OK... EX.....  YOU'RE SICK.  I told YOU THAT SEVERAL YEARS AGO.  I COULD SEE IT IN YOUR AURA.....WAY BEFORE YOU WERE DIAGNOSED.  He did not want to listen to anything I said about how to heal, he only wanted to spread his negative energy to get it away from himself. 

Why Wine Tastes Smokey

It's happened.  The 2017 cabernet wine I opened tonight tastes like smoke.  Maybe I should keep it as a collectors item. Speaking of fires, we are all on pins and needles as it's fire season.  Who would have ever thought that an entire swath of Santa Rosa would be leveled?

The below videos explain why my wine tastes like smoke.  One video has the location in Coffee Park where my house once stood.

Modern Art

A large ball of twine.  Christmas lights around a broomstick handle.  A pyramid of soda cans.  These are all examples of "modern art." 

Oh, you're a MORON if you don't see the aesthetic qualities in the above examples.  Why, you must be some unrefined slob (says the hoity-toity) to not shell out $1,000,000 to have it in your home.

Sorry, but the vast majority of what some call 'modern art' is nothing more than some scam artist trying to convince rich idiots that his creations made of crap are actually worth something - I don't care what backstory they try to attach to it.  

Wait.  I sense a business opportunity. 

UC Berkeley: Purchased by China

Here's something that nobody wants you to know about.  UC Berkeley has been purchased by the Chinese.  Go ahead.  Prove me wrong.  I'm waiting. 

It falls so contrary to the UC Berkeley humanitarian battle cry.....until it comes to money.

It always does. 

Fake.  Fucks. 

The Farm

This picture is my maternal grandparents' farm house in rural Minnesota.  Today it sits abandoned and trashed.  We're lucky it's not a meth lab.  Give it time, and I'm sure the meth-heads will figure it out.  The inside is equally hideous and a horrific smell comes from the basement.  The smell is nauseating.  How did it get this way?  Short answer is neglect from a specific set of cousins who basically stole this section of property and then let it rot (long story).  I'm sure when my childless uncle, who owns and operates the other half of this property, leaves this earth this particular set of cousins will be first in line with their hands out. 

It's sad for me to see the house this way.  I have many, many fond memories of this place and I dream of it often.  I can still see my grandma in the kitchen and my grandpa in his chair in the living room. 

Too Many Rats In The Cage

Think of earth as a cage.  Think of humans as rats.  There are too many rats in the cage.  Do you know what happens when there are too many rats in the cage?  They get all agitated and start to gnaw on each other. 

Think about it.  That's exactly what's happening.  There are too many people clamoring for limited resources.  Why else do you think everybody is on edge these days and half a bubble off?  Why else are we so trigger happy and aggressive?  Why else would the quality of life be diminishing?

Which bring me to the term 'transplant.'  A transplant is a person who voluntarily moves away from their origins because they thought it sucked, only to want to make the place they left exactly like the place where they came from. 

Yesterday I had lunch with a west Sonoma County friend who has roots in the area that span 130 years.  Her family has held the same property for that long.  My friend is what they would call 'old school' which means they raise farm animals and have agriculture.  My friend's family has carved out the wilderness and created the gem that draws so many people to Sonoma County from other areas.  We have not fuhcupped it (yet).  Sonoma County is the way it is currently because of the pioneering efforts of my friend's family. 

Along come the moneyed transplants.

These people move in and then bitch about everything, trying to make it like the place they came from,  and they have the time and money to whine about it.  The transplants bitch about the burn day (for which my friend has a permit).  They bitch about fences that have been there for 60 years (which were disclosed when the transplants bought the adjacent property).  They bitch about the crowing roosters (again, the roosters were there before the transplants ever were).  They bitch when my friend cuts down their own trees on their OWN property (which were a hazard).  These transplant people move here, and then bitch about the people who created the place they now enjoy. 

No respect. 

Please, annoying moneyed transplants, move back to where you came from.  You're ruining Sonoma County.  To those who move here and embrace and don't bitch?  The welcome mat is rolled out for you. 

Again, too many rats in the cage.