Wednesday, November 25, 2015


I slept well, woke up sick.  That is the way of the world, though.  Microbes will get us all in the end.  We will find out that all things that plague humans are microbial in nature, no matter what we name the disease.  We were proud that we could battle bacteria, many of which are very, very good for us, but we've done virtually nothing about viruses, mold, or funguses.  I know someone who is infected with mold spores in his blood stream.  Nothing to be done.  Didn't Dylan have a fungus of the heart?  Still there are good molds and funguses, but I've never heard of a beneficial virus.  Is there one positive thing about them?  Google virus and look at the images.  There is the picture of evil.

So I am in a rotten mood, I guess.  Family travel doesn't seem as appealing today.  I'd rather stay in my own house, my own bed, with my own comforts.  Rather. . . .

And in my rotten mood, I am tired of people who are "thankful."  People will be thankful for the most improbable things.  Mostly they are thankful for their children, of course, even though every survey of parents of grown children say that if they had it to do over again, they wouldn't have children, that what they sacrificed in life wasn't worth it.  They are thankful for their families in general, brothers or sisters or fathers or mothers, wives and husbands.  They are thankful for their friends.  There is a fanatical fascism in it all to me.  People need to respect my "trigger."  There should be a limit on this sort of speech for it disturbs me as speech about race, violence, god, or physical abuse pulls triggers for others.  On college campuses, professors are being asked to put "trigger warnings" in their syllabi so that students who might be upset by the topic can opt out.  If there are speakers on campus that trigger emotional responses, colleges are supplying safe rooms with counselors and stuffed animals and pacifiers to comfort the emotionally disturbed.  I want to add another trigger to the hierarchical list.

I want a thankless world.  This needs to be added to Title 9.

And so I prepare to go to the Hillbilly Holidays where I presume we will need to be thankful.  There will be a room full of people who have lost deviant, criminal brothers and cousins to AIDS, who have been incarcerated for the possession of drugs and weapons, whose children will not speak to them, who have filed bankruptcy not once but twice, who have reached an age of retirement without any savings, who are living in halfway houses for a second or third time, whose spouses have cheated on them so that they divorced, later remarried and suffered the same fate again, who are married but miserable, who care for parents with dementia. . . .  I'm certain I have left out a lot.

We will recall all the good times that are gone, I guess.

I think I'd better take some Xanax with me.  I don't think my mind is right.


  1. "… every survey…"?

    1. Yes, they cleverly shifted the paradigm from those who had grown kids to those who were raising kids. But hey, dude. . . be happy :)

      Obviously I'm not.

  2. Every survey does not represent every subject.

    1. "even though every survey of parents of grown children. . . "

      There was a survey of circus clowns with relatives who knew people who had children, too, but I didn't mention it.

      Don't take it personally. I'm very happy you have a son. I hope you have a couple more. Kids are great. I like other people's.

    2. I feel as if I already have a grown child. He's in his sixties.


  3. Dear Mr. Grumpy Pants

    Bring the kids some chocolate turkeys, smile & chat up the deviants, tell all the women they look fabulous.

    Be the elusive & exotic relative they are all expecting to see ... try, for gods sake, to have a little fun in it all. Goodness knows at least bring some good liquor to share. Do they drink at these occasions?

    I spent over 300 at the liquor store yesterday if that is any indication of my family and Thanksgiving. I opted for lots of Plymouth, MA craft brewed ales (Mayflower Porter, Squanto Ale) & ciders and some honeyed liquor cordial, Some "Bully Boy" Boston-made whiskey, a local vodka and 12 bottles of wine in assorted varieties. We begin drinking by 10 AM while the potatoes are being peeled. Or maybe that's just me. I'll check on that.

    My mother traditionally drinks a bottle of champagne and it can go in two different directions - either she gets mean or totally weepy by dessert.

    Ah all that beauty in all that darkness.

    1. Oh, yes, I bring drinks. . . and it is usually only my mother and I who drink it. As for beautiful women. . . my only hope is my cousin's son's new girlfriend. She is nineteen, I think. They usually like his drugs better than my liquor, though.