Old Boyfriend - Why?

 I keep having dreams involving an old boyfriend.  It's like our spirits keep talking to each other despite the relationship ending long ago.

Bonnie Tyler

 R.I.P. Bonnie Tyler.  Your song, Total Eclipse of the Heart, has delighted and has yet simultaneously annoyed listeners for 43 years.  All of those hunky guys in the video?  They are no doubt in their 60's at this point.  Hey, I wanted to go to an all-boys school ;).  This is the epitome of MTV in the 1980's and Gen X.  Talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-g-g-g-eneration. 

Of course, we Gen Xers are very snarky and cynical.  We find humor where others do not.  See below for this fine tribute to Bonnie Tyler and Gen X taking a poetic license to Bonnie Tyler's hit.  Copy and paste the YouTube video into your browser and enjoy!  

https://youtu.be/XMmXCyrV_WQ?si=LkcW_j4ui3HGbFLj

 

 

The Best Worst Funeral

 Yes, it is a contradicting title for this post.  Today was Bobby's funeral.  True to Bobby's wishes, the funeral was held out at the beach and everybody was encouraged to dress in Hawaiian garb.  Bobby's favorite music was playing:  CSNY, Bob Marley, Beatles, Santana, Grateful Dead.

Lots of people showed up to honor him.  Old friends came from far and wide to honor Bobby.  It was so great to see everybody.  Everybody brought their beach chairs and a dish to share.  Then it came time for people to talk.  The first to speak was Bobby's son. The Sunday before Bobby died he was out in the backyard with his son expressing his wishes for his funeral to be at the beach.  After describing to his son what he wanted, his son made a remark that this was going to be one hell of a party and that Bobby should really be there for it.  Bobby looked at his son and said, "I will be there."

Well, I lost it.  The tears came and I could not turn them off.  After Bobby's son spoke, people were invited to share their memories of Bobby.  My own son got up to speak.  He recounted a time when they were at the grocery store together when my son was about 7 years old.  Bobby nudged my son and said, "Hey, see that person over there?  Go up to that person, say hello, and smile.  I bet you that person will smile at you and then that will encourage that person to go up to somebody else, smile, and say hello."

 I had no idea my son carried that story with him all of these years until he shared it this afternoon.  Bobby encouraged him to spread love and joy.  A smile costs nothing to share.  Bobby also told my son that the most important thing to wear at any occasion was a smile.  Mostly, always leave people better than you found them.  Again, I lost it crying.  

Bobby was truly a gentleman and genuinely loved people.  I wish there were more people like Bobby in this world.  Honestly,  sometimes I would think that he was the Second Coming of Christ.  I do not mean that in a snarky, disrespectful manner.  Bobby truly walked the path of loving kindness by donating his time and resources to the community and to those in need.  He never boasted nor sought recognition for his deeds.  He was kind and humble to the core.

Bobby came from a very privileged upbringing.  He grew up in Pebble Beach in an affluent home complete with servants and attended very prestigious, private schools.  He would work at the golf course in the summer parking cars in the early to mid 1970's for weed money (which was illegal back in the dark ages).   Fun little fact:  Clint Eastwood would ask for Bobby to park his car for him as Bobby was his favorite valet.  

Yes, Bobby had a very charmed upbringing. 

Life took a turn.  Bobby's dad lost his business.  During the turmoil Bobby's dad had an affair that ended his parents' marriage when Bobby's mom found out.  It's a long and complicated story, but what Bobby got out of it was that the unrelenting quest for money, status, and power ruined people.  He vowed to live his life by completely different values......and he did.

Even my crusty cowboy father liked Bobby, and my dad pretty much hated everybody.  That in itself says a lot.   

I will miss you, Bobby.   Truly.  

 

 

 

 

death: happening now - during a Ringo Starr show

Where do I start?  I will set the stage.  A very, VERY close friend of ours has been battling cancer.  We are more like family than friends.  We have always gone through life's big moments together.  About Christmas time another couple we are mutual friends with contacted us and asked us if we wanted to go see Ringo Starr in San Jose in June.  Of course, being the avid Beatle fan I am we jumped at the chance and purchased tickets and made a hotel reservation downtown catty corner from the concert venue.  

As the months went on between December and June our friend with cancer kept getting worse and worse.  I will refer to our friend with cancer as "Bobby".  In early March we knew that Bobby's condition was getting worse, and the likelihood of he and his wife joining us for the Ringo Starr concert were diminishing by the day.  

As the Ringo Starr concert date approached it was apparent that Bobby's condition was terminal and hospice was called in.  Bobby was the type of guy who wanted everybody to have a good time and live life.  He was the eternal optimist full of love and hope.  He never wanted anybody to be sad.  He wanted us to go to the concert.  

Well, last night was the Ringo Starr concert.  We went to the concert with the other couple who are mutual friends as we all have a long and shared history.  We talked about Bobby on the car ride down to San Jose. 

During the concert my husband started crying.  He is not the type of guy to cry.  My friend, Suki, leaned forward in her chair, wine glass in hand, and asked if everything was ok.   No.  It was not ok.  Suki and I both felt that Bobby was here with us, as did my husband who was crying because he could feel it as well.  

Lo and behold we received the news shortly after the concert that Bobby had passed away.  Here's to you, Bobby.  So many memories and good times were shared. Bobby is now truly the Spirit in the Sky.

 

 

The Harsh Reality: Eldercare

 Here is what I am finding out with public services and support for broke elders who live alone:  There really isn't any.  

All these 'do-gooder' agencies do is refer you to another organization and have you fill out yet another form.  When they finally get around to contacting you, all they do is refer to yet ANOTHER agency where a form must be completed....and then wait.  

There is no shortage of agencies that promise help for the disabled and aging.  The only thing these agencies actually "do" is refer you to yet another organization.  Nobody actually provides any meaningful services despite the jazzy website and glossy brochures gushing about how much they care.  

Here is the painful truth:  Push your demented elder down the stairs.  Why?  Because then 911 must be called and then there will be action because it is an emergency.  Your elder can't be legally discharged from the hospital because your elder lives alone and it is not safe.  They will move your elder to another facility.  A broken hip is a small price to pay to get actual care 24/7.  

Of course I am being snarky, but the point stands.   

I have three emotions as of late:  anger, resentment, and compassion.

I am angry with my sister-in-law for not planning for her future.  I am angry she blew through her inheritance money without a thought as to whom will be wiping her bottom when she no longer can.  I am angry she just expects us all to step in and save her.  

I am resentful that now any and all vacation plans are canceled or on hold indefinitely because of her inability to take care of herself.  I am resentful that we are saving for our OWN retirement and I have family members in Minnesota who are elderly and need attention.  

My husband and I are not so heartless to leave sister-in-law completely alone with nobody available to help.  Yes, my husband's family is around in annoyingly large numbers; however, they all disappear and are unavailable when push comes to shove (with the exception of an honored few - and they have their their own aging and disabled immediate family members who need attention).   Who knows how long the situation with sister-in-law will last?  Three months?  Six months?  Five years?  Ten years?  

I feel compassion that sister-in-law does not have children and she never married - which leaves her vulnerable and alone.  I feel compassion that she is truly struggling mentally and physically.   I feel compassion because she is in so many ways a great person.  I think of all the fun times we have had over the decades.  

Sigh.   

 

Do You Know The Way To San Jose?

Well, it's official.  My son and his husband have found a home to rent and are moving back to Sonoma County from San Jose.  I will pick up the keys for them on May 8th.  While I will (somewhat) miss my trips down to San Jose, I will not miss the traffic.  They lived in the southeast section of San Jose up the hill via Tully Road.  

It was a nice residential neighborhood, but trying to get anywhere was insane.  It was like living way out in the boonies as getting to a grocery took forever.  Getting to the freeway took forever.  Getting anywhere took forever.  It was very isolating despite being very crowded and congested.  The neighborhood was nice, but there was no real sense of community.  People rarely went outside their doors to socialize with their neighbors.  That was culture shock for my son, who is Mr. Social.  

Not knowing my neighbors would also be strange for myself as well.  Knowing our neighbors is very important for us.  While I may not speak to my neighbors everyday, we will wave to each other passing by and I can name them all.  We have a neighborhood contact sheet where if there is an emergency we have contact numbers and such.  We all get together down in the court every 4th of July for a HUGE neighborhood BBQ.  

All are welcome to the neighborhood BBQ - even if you do not live in the neighborhood.  All are welcome - even the nosy neighborhood busybody.  All are welcome - especially the band that practices in a shed catty-corner from us up the hill as we get to hear talented musicians play their music.  All are welcome - even the teenager who drove the car onto the lawn and tore it up.  All are welcome - even the weird neighbor who looks like Lurch.  All are welcome - even the small children who play outside and start screaming at the top of their lungs as to what would otherwise be a peaceful Sunday morning.  All are welcome - even the tree-hugging-hairy-armpit-butch lesbian couple with short, spikey hair and their 5 yappy, annoying, spoiled dogs they treat as their children and drive only Subaru's.  

Block party on our street.  Come on down.    

Just Come Home

 My son, who has been all over the world in the last 16 years, has been living in San Jose for the past few years.  His his husband got laid off from his tech job in Silicon Valley.  This is a harbinger for things to come for California.  This is the canary in the coal mine for a major part of California's economy.  There was an article in the paper the other day about cracks showing in Silicon Valley's once glowing promise of tech innovations that fueled the local economy and beyond.  

I had that news four years ago from people actually living the nightmare way before the news reported it.  Let's go even deeper.  Many of my friends are getting laid off (or family members getting laid off) after 25+ years of dedicated service to SlaveDriver, Inc.  

How about that!  What THANKS!!!!  Thank you for dedicating your life to SlaveDriver, Inc., while you missed your daughter's first steps and first ballet performance.  Thank you for missing birthdays and other milestone family events because of some dumb-ass conference we forced you to go to to give a presentation to people who do not care, or take up your entire weekend (without extra pay nor recognition) to fix a computer programming bug that was jamming up financial transactions between institutions where you worked for 24 hours straight.  Here is what we will give you after a lifetime of dedication and performance:  YOU GET LAID OFF.  

Where am I going with this?  My son just wants to come home back to Sonoma County where he grew up.  My son has a job that affords flexibility for location, and his husband will find his way as he is very smart.  They just need to get re-established back here where they have a network of family and friends.  There is no place like home.  Sometimes kids needs to move away to appreciate it.  

Caution to those who slave away for SlaveDriver, Inc.  They do not care one *bleep* about you.  They only care about profits.  Keep that in mind.   

 

 

 

No Kings! The Protests

Over the past weekend there were some "No Kings" protests being held around Marin and Sonoma Counties in California.  In theory, the protests were against the reigning Orange Cheeto acting like a petulant toddler in dealing with just about everything.  I guess that is why the Orange Cheeto liked Epstein Island so much.  The Petulant Toddler is attracted to youngsters because he is....well.....mentally a youngster.  I could go on and on about Epstein and his "friends" he brought to his billionaire sponsored island of child rape.  That is for another blog that will make you all sick.  

Now, back to Sonoma and Marin Counties.   

Several of my friends attended the "No Kings" marches in Sonoma and Marin Counties.  I was invited to join them, but I declined due to a prior work obligation.  Why did I decline?  I needed to give a presentation about SAVING FOR RETIREMENT (see the theme?????)  and the many investment vehicles we offer to get you there (many of our retirement investment options are employer matched).  Before and after the 60 minute stage presentation I facilitated, I was fielding individual questions from participants.  Bottom line:  My Saturday was spent trying to help people plan for retirement and how to maximize the funding tools we have available to them.

Here is my truth:  I'm glad I had a prior work-related speaking obligation that took up most of  Saturday.  I could honestly let my well-meaning friends know that I would not be joining them at the protest without passing judgement on them nor judgement on the event.  

Here is more on my truth:   I'm really drained of the "us vs. them" mentality of our polarized politics.  I am drained from the "democrats vs. republicans" blame game.  I could go on and on writing about this.  All I know is that BOTH the democrats and the republicans suck campaign contributions from the billionaire class (along with sucking other body parts that shall not be named).  That is exactly why the democrats are largely silent and do not object to the Orange Cheeto's game plan.  They are all, and I am meaning BOTH democrats and republicans, sucking on the *same* billionaire campaign contribution c*ck. 

Our nation has been in trouble for a while.  What sealed our doom was our government acknowledging that corporations were people (circa 2010).  Corporation person-hood effed us real people over.  Please, people....this is NOT a republican vs democrat issue.  It's an "up vs down" economic issue.  Our government is all-in on advancing themselves with zero regard to us working slobs - you know, the ones who actually pay.

One more truth:   I did not want to participate in the "No Kings" march.  Why?  I do not believe for one second that either democrats or republicans give one sh*t about us.  I will not participate in a "No Kings" protest when I am being used as the pawn.  

 

 

There are people living in my van!

 I guess it's my turn to figure out how to care for an 80 year-old woman with the onset of dementia with zero savings, $9,500 in credit card debt and no life insurance nor long-term care insurance.  Her only asset is her sardine can of a trailer (which is falling apart) where she lives parked at an age 55+ community in Petaluma.  While she does own the sardine can she lives in, she must RENT the space it is parked on, which is about $1,200 per month depending on utility usage.  

Let's do some math on her income.  Her social security income is $1,421.60.  Her pension income from Sola Optical is $458.90 per month.  Another supplemental pension is $142.50 per month.  Putting all of this together, her monthly income is $2,023.00.  

Let's do some math on her expenses.  Her rent is about $1,200 per month.  Her medicare supplement through United Healthcare is $350.00 per month.  Her cable bill is about $200.00 per month.  Property taxes are about $700 per year.  Car insurance is about $80 per month. Doing VERY rough math that leaves her about $475 per month for groceries, gas, and care for her BLEEPING cat, house maintenance, car maintenance, car insurance, homeowners, insurance, blah, blah, blah, blah.....and she needs hearing aids along with elderly accommodations that will allow her to stay in her home.  Here is something very graphic for you all.  Her piss pads cost about $100 per month.  Bottom line:  There is nothing left to take care of her bottom.  

Here is the other fight I am having with my spouse.  It is HIS SISTER.  HE is RETIRED.  I am still WORKING.  Why does not HE get a part-time JOB to support HIS SISTER!!!!!!!!!!!!  All my husband does all day is watch crime shows on TV and waters the garden.  Tough life.  Taking care of HIS SISTER was NOT in our retirement plans.  She is like a TODDLER.  She has always been a TODDLER.   She wants EVERYBODY ELSE to figure out her life FOR HER.  

I am TIRED of wiping everybody's ass for them.  I'm sick of leading everybody around by the nose.  I am sick of being the "responsible one".  I am sick of paying for YOUR youthful sloth and lack of foresight.  Grow up and FACE the choices you made earlier in life and FIGURE IT OUT.  Let's deal with the truth:  YOU DID NOT SAVE NOR PLAN FOR YOUR RETIREMENT AND ELDER CARE!  YOU ARE GOING TO QUIETLY DUMP IT ONTO SOMEBODY ELSE TO FIGURE OUT AND PAY FOR. 

Sorry, I am not your dumpster.  Sorry, I am sick of trying to bail your ass out of piss-poor financial choices earlier in your life.  Anybody with half a brain would have opted to SAVING for RETIREMENT as opposed to tying to impress somebody with their trip to Europe or whatever.   

Sure, you have the photos of your European trip (gag....we never really wanted to see them anyway) but now you are just that much farther behind in retirement savings and the person you were trying to impress has long left you for other people *they* are trying to impress who are equally financially leveraged.   

What a joke.  

All this comes back to people living in a van.  That is what my sister-in-law is stating.  She is certain that there is a family living in her 2004 Toyota Sienna mini-van at night.  She claims they have two babies, and that they leave when the sun comes up.  She also states that there is a desk fan that turns into a head and comes down her hallway.  If she speaks to it, the head leaves through the skylight.  My sister-in-law also states that people are having parties in her back bathroom at night and stealing her water.  Yes, I am one for woo-woo spiritual stuff; however, this is over the top and has me very, very concerned.  Sister-in-law has called 911 more than once stating that someone was trying to break into her home (complete falsehood).  We could only WISH somebody would break in and take all her her SHIT.  PLEEEEEEEZE

I stopped today at our family general practitioner to see if we could get sister-in-law away from her pill-prescribing doctor into our family general practitioner's practice.  Our family GP is not accepting new patients, but made an exception because sister-in-law is family.  

Step 1 of many steps to come.  Step 1 is to get a complete physical and a neurological examination coordinated with our family GP.   I will be in the exam room as I do not trust sister-in-law to give me the straight answers needed to move her forward.  

One last plea to you all.  SAVE FOR YOUR RETIREMENT.  IT WILL BE HERE FASTER THAN YOU THINK.  YOU WILL NEED MORE MONEY THAN YOU EVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE.  THERE IS NO MONEY FAIRY TO SWOOP IN TO TAKE CARE OF YOU.   

 

 

Poop Stalls

 I write this blog for ME - not for YOU.  Fuck off if you do not like my blog.  I did not invite you here.  You invited yourself here.  

Ok... you're still here.  I will invite you to my thought du jour.   

Here is a question I have.  Everybody needs to go to the toilet to do #2.  Why are toilet stalls designed to be in closets with no air flow?  Is suffocation by smelly poops part of some sort of Russian torture?  Why not have sufficient outside airflow to mitigate the odor of these unpleasant but completely natural body functions?  Is gagging people to death in smelly toilet stalls part of some sick joke by architects?   

FRESH AIR FLOW IS GOLDEN!!!!  Sprays can only do so much to cover up the obvious nastiness.  

 

Minneapolis in the news - again

What is going on with my home state of Minnesota?  Ten years ago nobody could locate us on a map and the majority of Americans thought we were part of Canada.  Suddenly, Minnesota is ground zero for social unrest.  

The latest is ICE killing a woman.  That's about as far as I will go as I do not trust any media accounts as to what happened.  Here is what I do know.  PMF, who is part of my coven, lives in South Minneapolis and was ground zero for the George Floyd protests and now the ICE shooting protests.  I tend to take her first-hand account of what is going on rather than AI doctored video footage with a political slant.  

I long for the days when the world thought Minnesota was just a bunch of Eskimos living in igloos.    

Blue January

 Batten down the hatches, y'all.  Things are about to get even weirder.  The Orange Cheeto thinks he can bully his way into anything and everything.  I don't agree with his going into Venezuela and kidnapping their president while simultaneously threatening to overtake Greenland?  Is diplomacy non-existent?  Why alienate ourselves from Europeans?  Are we nuts?  

On another note, the bite of high insurance premiums for health insurance, car insurance, and home insurance are straining budgets.  Of course, those costs are not factored into the core inflation rate.  I do not believe for one second the economy is as "affordable" as we are being told.  

Let's also factor in job losses in the tech and entertainment industries in California.  Those two industries are pillars of our economy.  Silicon Valley is undergoing tremendous layoffs as AI creeps into replacing employees, as is the Hollywood film industry.  Let's not forget California's wineries are struggling as well as fires, lack of insurance, and lack of workers (they are all getting rounded up and deported) in conjunction with diminishing interest in alcohol consumption are also playing a part in our slumping economy.

What has fueled California's economic engine for a long time is sputtering out.  High costs of living and high taxation is driving companies to other states.  High taxation is driving anybody with any means out of state to avoid forking even more money over to Sacramento.  

Yes, California has beautiful weather with stunning landscapes.  However, we can't eat the weather and we can't eat the scenery.   We need industry we can sink our teeth into.  Does anybody know what that is?  What do we have left to offer the world?  Marijuana?   

All I can see is California being a giant vacation rental for the rest of the world.   

Where am I going with all of this?  Newsome is going to make a presidential run.  High taxes, high homelessness, high crime, meddlesome bureaucracy makes getting anything done next to impossible.  DO NOT VOTE FOR HIM.  Plus, Newsome is part of the same old and tired democratic party machine that thinks they can put forth a candidate that has been blow-dried and hairsprayed as their front runner.  Newsome is about as authentic as a three-dollar bill.  He is nothing more than a priveleged brat born into California's political elite.  He is a status-quo democrat and a part of the establishment that is effing over the people.  Do not buy that he is "for the working people."  Bullshit.  The only buying going on here is billionaires of our government whether democrat or republican.  

 

 

Coven Divorce

Yes, my Minnesota coven has had a good run.  We were friends for 50+ years.  All good things must come to an end.  I now get why people divorce after 40+ years of marriage.  Sometimes it takes that long to figure out manipulation, gaslighting, and narcissism.  And sometimes it takes just as long to figure out that nobody's nasty core personality is going to change no matter how much flowery prose they post on social media claiming how much they love everybody and wish for world peace.    

I've always said my superpower is calling truth to BS in five-words-or-less.  I have owned my own BS with the coven when I am wrong.  However, there is one who is now off the charts in "unapologetic love with herself" to the degree where she is now tattooing it on her forearm (for real).  All of her "unapologetic self-love" is nothing more than a self-empowering, feminist sound-byte justification to treat other people like shit and to validate her narcissism.  

SYB can NOT see her own BS.  Yet SHE is the mental health professional who has to "dumb herself down" to be with us.  No shit.  Well, you know me.  I called her on it.  Of course, she did not like it despite pleading with the coven that "we must have honest and open communication to move forward and to move past the yuck."

Well, the honest and open communication comes with terms and conditions - we can't say ANYTHING about HER bullshit.  SYB can't own her own shit.  She can dish it out, but she can't take it.  I stood my ground as did SSP and PMF in attesting that SYB thinks she is holier-than-thou and that her shit does not stink.  Time will tell as what her adoring minions will do.  

Well, SYB......Go and love yourself.  There is another interchangeable four letter word I could have used instead of love, but I am being polite.   SYB does not want friends.  She wants perpetual adoration, which is a classic trait of a NARCISSIST.  They need their constant supply of ego pumps.  If the people in their social circle do not supply them with the ego pumps the narcissist needs, they are tossed out the car window faster than a bad burrito from 7-11.  

Meeting SYB you would think she is the champion of the "underprivileged retards who never learned to reed so good."   It's all a fake cover for being a narcissistic control freak concerned ONLY about HERSELF and how many LIKES she can get on Facebook.  God help you if you have a different opinion from hers on anything.  She is right.  You are wrong.  End of discussion.  

Oh, by the way....did you know SYB was molested by her dad 50 years ago?  Well, that that should be her next tattoo on her forehead as she tells every gas station attendant and cashier her story.   While I am sad that happened to her, she never asks about the rest of the coven of the abuse WE experienced growing up.  It's all about her......all the time......done.  

Ghosts of Christmas Past

 Merry Christmas, everybody :)

Yeah......have you had a chance to breathe?  Isn't it GREAT?  All of the expectations of Christmas and forced family time together along with forced overtime with company holiday parties are done for another season.   blissssssssssssss

This is why I LOVE the week between Christmas and New Year's.  All of that forced socializing whether it is for your job or for family obligations is now in the rear-view mirror.  

Don't you all miss COVID just a tad?  We all had an excuse to just stay home and/or socialize with people we really wanted to socialize with - scrap the rest.  There are plenty to scrap.  

In all honesty, we did have a really nice Christmas Eve, Christmas morning breakfast, and Christmas dinner.  We even hosted a crab feed at our house last night.    

Merry Christmas.  I promise I will not sing annoying Christmas songs that will make you want to strangle me.   

Odd Ball Christmas Songs and Elder Hospital Care

 Are you ready to take a shotgun to any speaker that keeps playing the annoying Christmas songs that have been blaring at full volume since Halloween?  Yup, I'm there with you.  Only a few more days to go until we can shove Mariah Carrey's "All I Want for Christmas is Yooouuuu" back into the big, plastic Christmas storage bin and stuff it up in the attic where it is 104* in August.  Hopefully, she suffocates.  

The other one I loathe is 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas' by the annoying singers that sound like they were hired away from the creepy fun house.  "And mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again....a ha ha ha ha ha ha HA ha ha ha ha."  fingernails on a chalkboard

I do not hate all Christmas songs equally.  There are two songs I really like, but they are not overly mainstream.  One is "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses.  The song has the best bass line ever.  Another fun fact, the bassist is a woman.  The other fun Christmas song is Little St. Nick by the Beach Boys.  

Now, onto elder hospital care.  SuperBETCH is has been in the hospital for well over a month.  She was admitted into Santa Rosa Memorial and was in intensive care for a few weeks.   She needs dialysis for 4 hours daily.  She also has bone cancer.  There are so many things wrong.  Here is the sad part for Nice Guy (son of SuperBETCH).  SuperBETCH is too "well" for the hospital (or so they say), but too sick to go home.  Just where does she go?  Well, right now she is at a facility in Sebastopol for the time being.  They have dialysis on site.   

Here's the kicker.  Medicare only pays for a limited time for care at the facility in Sebastopol.  I forget what the exact time is, but it is limited.  SuperBETCH has long-term care insurance, but it is only good for certain facilities and there are other fine print requirements that are next to impossible to meet.  

So now what?  Well, nobody can care for SuperBETCH at home.  She needs to stay where she is at.  However, her care will cost $3,000 per DAY.  Do the math.  That's $90,000 per MONTH.  If she is there for a year, that will add up to about $1,000,000.00.  NiceGuy's sister (SuperBETCH, Jr., who is 58 years old, divorced, and just got fired from her job) thinks she is going to inherit a pile of money.  News flash:  most the estate, if not all of it, will get eaten up in long-term care for SuperBETCH.  

Hey, I'm not without my own dealings with my sister-in-law who is elderly and broke.  If she died today, there is not enough money to bury her or have a funeral.  We would have to pay for it.  She is $7,000 in credit card debt, has zero savings, and has $3,000 in her checking account which is dwindling with increased prices.  In California, the pecking order for funeral expenses is first the spouse, then kids, then siblings.  Yup, you could be stuck paying for a burial for your dead-beat sibling you cut ties with decades ago.  

Sister-in-law sits in her chair all day long and watches tv.  She expects everybody else to figure out her life -- and to pay for it.   She will not take care of herself, but expects everybody else to take care of her.  Here is what frosted my beeeehiney today.  She texts me a picture of some make up she wants.  This is a WANT and not a NEED.  What does she need make up for?  She is 80 years old and never leaves the house.  She needs make up to watch tv?  Keep in mind we are paying a significant portion of her living expenses.....and she texts me with a make up request?  Thank God they discontinued the make up she wants.  The make up she wants is expensive!

Well, enough for now.   

Good luck, America, with the aging Boomers.  There is a reason they are referenced as the most selfish generation.  We are just now seeing the early Boomers fall into poverty.  The tsunami is coming.  They will not take responsibility for their life choices, but will demand Gen X bail them out.  That is another whole 6 hour conversation with a bottle of wine.  I've got lots to say about that.   

 

 

Boomer Folklore: There Was An Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe

 Here's what is coming:  the old woman will live in a shoe box.  You all think I am kidding.  I'm taking the Mother Goose rhyme into 2026 and beyond.  

The fastest growing homeless population is the elderly (dare I say Boomers).  Why?  I could talk for hours on it as the reasons are complex, but some of it boils down to this.  We are now reaping the seeds sown in the 1980's Reaganomics era where unions were demolished.   Prior to the 1980's employers offered defined benefit pensions which guaranteed income for life unlike defined contribution plans that are finite.  When the Reganomics hit it was sold to the people that unions were not needed.  Put the pension money on the check NOW and people can invest for their own pension.  Who needs unions?  Americans are independent!  We can plan for our own futures!  GIMME MONEY NOW!

Boomers bought it hook, line, and sinker.  Boomers loved the huge paychecks and spent themselves into a tizzy with large houses, cars, boats, trips, etc.  Did they save for their retirement?  Nope.  Now their toys have long depreciated to being valued worthless and left Boomers with zero savings and mounting credit card and medical debt.  They have reverse mortgages on their homes because they can't come to terms that their lifestyle is not sustainable and refuse to face reality.  

The Boomers' reverse mortgages are coming due.  Boomer has walked through all of his money.  Now Boomer needs to move somewhere....but WHERE?  Boomer is now in declining health, does not have any money, and the bank is about to retake the house leaving Boomer with negative equity.  Yup.  The longer Boomer stays in the house, the more he will owe.  

Boomer has zero money and zero savings.   Boomer can't keep up with rising prices.  Boomer needs to sell his home, but finding another place to live is proving challenging and expensive.  Next thing you know Boomer is facing eviction and is now without a home.  Where will all of these elderly and broke people live?  Who will take care of them?  

Which brings me back to the beginning:  There was an old woman who lived in a shoe....box.   

 

 

....and how was YOUR Thanksgiving?

Whew.  Another Thanksgiving under my belt.  At this point I am a black belt in Thanksgiving Dinner preparation and hosting.  I think I have dealt with every uncomfortable guest/relative situation at this point as well along with being a professional diplomat with family politics and government politics.

I wish they handed out a Nobel prize for keeping world peace at the extended family holiday dinners.  We all know that everything starts at home, right?  I have family members that range from wearing MAGA hats to feverish supporters of Zohran's socialist democracy.  The point is that we all converge during the holidays and nobody gets worked up of politics.  We can have a civil and insightful discussion if it comes up despite the variances.  

Yup.  My family covers the entire range of the political spectrum.  I think I have members of my family who are on a political spectrum that has yet to be identified.   

Truth be told, I have had several bumps in the road over the decades in reaching the utopia of family holiday dinners.  There have been arguments, mishaps, miscommunications, and misunderstandings along the way that have resulted family discord.  I have been in the wrong many times.  Then there are those in the family who think they are entitled to be waited on hand and foot and treat the host like it is an on-demand restaurant and give no courtesy to the host nor to others.  

I am so glad and relieved that the ingrate cancer has been cut from my home.  The ingrates no longer even entertain that thought that are welcome at my home.  They have to make their own plans and cook for themselves.   For fear of sounding like a cheesy pop-psychologist, I've set my "healthy boundaries."  

Now the ingrates are arguing amongst themselves as to whom is the ingrate, and how dare Ingrate Relative X try to dictate the guest list for Host Ingrate.  I just sit back and smile.  

Here are the comments I hear through the family grapevine:

1.  OMG!  It's so much WORK and EXPENSE to host!  It takes days to organize, clean, prep, cook.  Then there is the CLEAN UP.  Nobody HELPS me!

2.  Quiet Rage made it look so easy!  Do you have her recipe for (fill in the blank).  

3. Ingrate X simply can't be expected to host - it's just too much (insert personal drama here).  Ingrate X has two kids, does not work, and has small living quarters. (note:  Quiet Rage hosted holidays with two small kids while working full-time AND going to school AND living in a small condo).   

4.  Host Ingrate is astounded that the other family ingrates want dibs on the leftovers to take home.  Host Ingrate wails, "I bought and prepared all this food!  The leftovers were to feed us for the rest of the week!  Now Ingrate X feels entitled to some?"

Ahhhhhhhh.....so much relief to not have to deal with any of that.  So much has been taken off our plates with the elimination of the ingrates (pun intended).  It allowed us to cook an entire Thanksgiving meal for 7 for a family we love that is dealing with a terminal disease and bring it over to them in addition to cooking for my usual crowd I host.  

Gen X Classic: White, White Baby!

This is a Gen X classic.  It's a parody featuring Jim Carrey as Vanilla Ice.  This will never get old despite Gen X getting old.  

    

SuperBETCH is Dying

 Less than 4 months after CHP died, SuperBETCH (CHP's widow) is now in the hospital receiving dialysis for four hours daily.  She has not made urine in over a week.  How did she get this way?  Well, I don't think she really took care of herself.  We are not even talking about the hole in her intestines for which she had surgery and the skin cancer that is eating away on her right shoulder with her rotting flesh exposing veins, cartilage, bones, etc.  

Uff Da!  So much has happened this past week. None of which is pretty.

SuperBETCH is a mess.  I blame SuperBETCH Jr. for a lot of it as she knew her mom was lying on her couch at her home in her own feces and urine for at least 36 hours.  At that point SuperBETCH Jr.  called her brother, Nice Guy, to come over because mom was not quite right (gee, being on the couch covered in her own urine and feces did not tip her off???????).  SuperBETCH Jr. was reluctant to call 911 for her own mother.  NiceGuy, upon entering the house and observing his mother unconscious on couch soaked in her own excrement, jumped in and called 911 immediately despite his sister's claims that it was unnecessary to do so. 

Here is where it is at as of November 23, 2025, at 11:04 PM.  

SuperBETCH is in the hospital and she will be there for an undetermined amount of time.  She can't walk.  She can't take herself to the toilet.  She can't sit up by herself.  She is on dialysis for 4 hours per day.  Her kidneys are failing.  She sleeps most of the time.  She thinks that Benjamin Franklin is standing in the corner of her hospital room and that her late husband, CHP,  has been there visiting with her.  

Hey....I'm not judging any of that.  

Even if SuperBETCH gets out of the hospital, she will need to go to a rehabilitation facility full time as NiceGuy can't take care of her 24/7.  Neither can his sister SuperBETCH Jr.  

 Which leads us to Thanksgiving this coming Thursday.  Before it was known how ill SuperBETCH was there was drama between NiceGuy and his sister SuperBETCH Jr.  NiceGuy wants NOTHING to do with his sister.  SuperBETCH Jr. was chastising NiceGuy and his wife because they had plans to come to our house for Thanksgiving dinner.  The "guilt" was that that this was the first Thanksgiving without CHP and that the CHP/SuperBETCH immediate family should all be together for the holiday.

Here's the real story.  SuperBETCH Jr.  could not handle the thought of having to HOST and cook for her OWN ADULT KIDS and their significant others at her OWN HOUSE on a holiday.  Nice Guy ALWAYS cooked for them all in the past and hosted at their house.  SuperBETCH Jr. has NEVER hosted a holiday at her house let alone cook for anybody.  She has always inserted herself with her brother (NiceGuy) and their parents as they always hosted and did all the work.  All she had to do was show up with her tribe along with a bottle of wine and a pie she picked up at Whole Foods.  How easy is THAT?  

This is where I get thrown under the bus from SuperBETCH Jr.  

All of a sudden my husband and I are getting blamed for cooking Thanksgiving dinner and not inviting SuperBETCH Jr.'s entire tribe over.  

We have never hosted them for Thanksgiving.  We have hosted them all for Christmas.  We have NEVER been invited over to SuperBETCH Jr.'s house for anything.  Nothing.  Ever.  Now we are the bad people because we are just doing our own thing (as always)?   

Why am I obligated to invite people to my home who want nothing to do with me because they don't want to deal with the work of cooking a meal for their own immediate family...and then they also expect me to clean up after them?  Nope.  I'm not their kitchen bitch.  

Sure, SuperBETCH Jr. can go to Whole Foods and order the overpriced a la carte Thanksgiving dinner.  Still, it comes cold and you will still need to figure out your oven and stove space to warm it up enough to serve. 

Wait.  The meal comes cold.  

Justice served.   

 

 

Cranky Old Lady

 Yup.  I'm there.  I'm a cranky old lady.  With any luck and the grace of God, you will reach my age as well.  Here's my list of advice.  Please, feel free to take my advice.  God knows I'm not going to use it.

1.  You are not nearly as important as you think you are.  Do not get sucked into thinking workplace and external accolades replaces family and other personal relationships.  You will be sorely disappointed on your death bed thinking the company guys who presented with you with a plaque at the obligatory, ceremonial rubber chicken dinner with the cheezy photo opportunity that will feature you for the weekly publication of "The Company Newsletter" nobody actually reads for "best manager of the year" actually gives a sh*t about you -  and will be there at the end of your life.  They won't be there for you as you take your last breaths.  Truth bomb:  You were replaced 10 years ago.  They are just trying to be nice about it now giving you something to hang on the wall while they kick your @ss out the door.  

2.   You are actually as important as you think you are.  Yes, this contradicts the above statement.  However, do NOT invest your soul's energy into corporate and workplace endeavors.  You will always be disappointed when soul-sucker Sam, who wears a cape with the company logo and gets a promotion instead of you, gets a bust in his likeness in the corporate hall of (sh)fame.  However, you will *never* be disappointed in being there when your daughter takes her first steps and says da-da for the first time.  Priceless.  

3.  Yes, we all need to play the "work game" to some extent.  Just be realistic about the end result.  Once you leave your job you will be replaced and forgotten in no time.  You will be lucky if anybody remembers you two years after you left your 30+ year career working your heart and soul out for Company X meaning missing birthday parties, anniversaries, and other special family events for the ceremonial rubber chicken dinners you attended for those who are now long forgotten.  Do you reach out to them?  I don't think so.  You are too busy wrapped up in your own life to remember those who sacrificed for the "company."  The same will go for you.  

4.  However, your family will NEVER forget about you.  That is if you have not already alienated them after years of neglect by ignoring them while chasing your ego's ghost.  Sorry, but your daughter named little Cindy will never understand why you had to miss her dance recital because Client George decided to ride into town a night early and wanted Cindy's daddy to take him to dinner so he did not have to put out his own credit card for the expense.