Opulence in the Time of Suffering

Happy lady, happy life. Again, 2016.  I keep looking at this one.  Trump Derangement Syndrome hadn't started yet.  Eight years of Obama was coming to and end.  We were on the verge of a downward slope.  

I don't want to burden you with my troubles. . . but that is all I have.  Mom is one tooth down now.  More meds.  The thing is, none of the doctors coordinate.  That is left to me.  Phone call after phone call, two pharmacies, and finally we all come to a conclusion.  I hope it works.  I am being told that the UTI causes madness in older women.  That makes sense and seems to be the case.  I'm hoping we have the right antibiotics in the right dosages to do the job.  There are so many concerns now from dry socket to infection to. . . it goes on and on and on.  

When it rains, you know?  They did not have my car ready yesterday.  The Ricoh GR IV I bought doesn't work, so I went online with the company who sold it to me because they did not list a phone number.  I have to pack the camera up, take it to FedEx, and return it to get a refund.  You know, though, I think it is better this way.  After I got the camera, I realized I probably would hardly use it.  I don't need it.  Maybe this is a good thing.  A reprieve.  It will pay for half my car repair. 

Sucks.  

That photo, though. . . that's what you get when you ask people if you can photograph them.  Such photographs are interesting in some ways, mostly for the artifice, and every picture tells a story, but. . . .

The world changed after 9/11. It changed again after January 20, 2017.  It is difficult to wrap my head around it all.  It has been a weird century so far.  

MAGA looks to Trump's big 250 celebration and Progressives look to Taylor Swift's wedding.  Both are decadently opulent, I think, and equally meretricious.  Barnum and Bailey stuff.  But Swift will be president one day and if her marriage fails, it will give her career a real boost with all the revenge songs it will inspire.  And Trump?  Who knows.  He somehow seems eternal like Moby Dick or Judge Holden.  

What a world, what a world.  Lewis Carroll would have had a ball.