Election Stress Disorder

Dear you,

I hear there is something called Election Stress Disorder (ESD) and the American Psychological Association claims 52% of us see the election as a source of stress. What is wrong with us? The last four years of botched leadership, a pandemic, and a rising tide of fascism, now those things are stressful.  But an opportunity to fire @realDonaldTrump, the ultimate stressor, is here.  The election is happening.  It is finally happening, and this is a cause for relief, not stress.  Granted, the relief is edgy. (Yes, prepare for challenges from the Orange One.)  However, that what-if-he-does-whatever edginess is a first world problem.  Most of us are not literally living on the edge, like this:

Those small figures on the roof are people.  These men, referred to as peripatetic roofing acrobats in my last post praising professionals, are on actual edges and working fiercely.  They are doing this . . .        Without union protection. Without safety harnesses. Without health insurance benefits. Without (for most I am sure) the protections of citizenship or the right to vote and bitch about Election Stress Disorder.

I watch these men focus and get stuff done.

I study the artfulness of their movements.

I talk to them with my goofy Spanish, Beyond the Basics! book in hand.

And on October 24, this past Saturday, I voted for them. 

#BidenHarris2020

Happy election time!

Screw ESD.

XO

Joyce

 

I miss plumber's crack . . .

Dear you, I really miss the classic “plumber’s crack”.   Here’s why . . .

Covid-caution has prompted a rise in self-reliance, or so I hear.  People are mastering all kinds of skills because they are wary of contact.  Facing a necessary repair today (replacement of a totally blown out kitchen faucet), I was encouraged to join this new-skill-mastery club.  The optimistic suggestion came from a receptionist at a local and very busy plumbing company (they are all busy, plumber shortage).   She told me “you can do it!”  I replied, “so not happening!”  However, I promised to purchase the replacement product and give it a go.

Hours later, after a long consultation with an Ace Helpful Hardware Man (they are helpful), I selected the Moen “one handle pullout kitchen faucet”; the box declares that when you “Buy it for looks” you “Buy it for life”! (OK, as noted previously, I am wary of commitment so this potentially lifelong relationship with a faucet freaked me out.  But whatever.)  I returned to the condo, a new level of war-zone noisy due to roof replacement, and opened the box, spread out the contents and studied the directions.  Immediate halt.  While the brochure instructed me to shut off the hot and cold water valves before installing the new faucet, it did not tell me how to remove the old faucet.  And I couldn’t figure out how to shut those valves off anyway. Then there was the parts list:

Installation tool, deck gasket, outlet hose, supply line hot, mounting bracket, mounting nut, hose protector, hose weight, faucet body, O-ring and screen, spray wand, pullout hose, supply line cold, deck plate, deck plate gasket.

I could only identify three of those things with absolute certainty, the faucet body, spray wand, and the O-ring, because it was the only thing shaped like an O.

Indeed, this was not happening!

Surrender.  Seek professional help. I did and called the busy plumbing company once again.  Results: the perky receptionist said “he” was out handling a toilet emergency.  And the other “he’s or she's"?  All booked too.  Surrender again.  Seek any kind of help you can get.  So, I called the totally uncredentialed handyman who works around the condo complex. He also lurks around the condo complex more than he should, but again, whatever. Result of this call: “he” MIGHT be able to help tonight. Oh joy.

Having failed the self-reliance test, I have come to this; I am waiting ever so hopefully for a confirmation call from a lurking, uncredentialed handyman.

And this is why I miss “plumber’s crack”, the professional kind.

Kisses and appreciation to all professionals; plumbers, ethical politicians, poets, peripatetic acrobats on my roof, et al.  Your ranks are dwindling, and I hate to see you go.

XO

Joyce

VOTE or get Amy and Mr. Cornman . . . .

The above is my “I Voted” sticker from the 2016 election. As noted, “I made freedom count in Walton County”.  Well, my vote may have counted but it didn’t help win the electoral college for my candidate.   So here we are, four lovely years later and I am watching the consequences of other people’s votes, the confirmation hearings for future SCOTUS judge Amy Coney Barrett.

While viewing, I thought about what it would be like if we voted for these justices.  I would not vote for Barrett for many reasons, notably her kind of textual interpretation of the Constitution as inspired by Scalia.  That “whatever is on the page, literally” thing is just not going to make sense to anyone who is aware of history, semantics/semiotics/lit-crit 101 or human nature for that matter.   And while her professional cred is beyond impressive, I am not moved by the hymns of praise about her motherhood.  I think I heard the word Mom mentioned 2,399 times today.  What if she was childless and single?  What if she was a live-on-her-own kinda gal?  Who cares?  I know, the conservatives love the nuclear family thing and the Kids R Us culture, but Barrett’s serial Mom-ness doesn’t move me to vote for her.

Oh, wait.  I don’t get to vote for her.

I also don’t get to vote for virtually anything here on the Beaches of South Walton, a strip of unincorporated space.  I do get to vote for school board folks, the mosquito control dude, and whatever a county commissioner is.  But how about other public service positions?  Take the current County Code Compliance Director.  Did I vote for him?  Was he on our little local ballots?  If he was, I have forgotten the experience.  Here is a bit of news related to that position:

There are currently only 10 beach code officers.  Walton County announces they will be hiring more soon.  Code compliance will be interviewing for “more” officers Monday.  These workers are supposed to keep residents and visitors safe.  According to the current Director, “the first step is getting radios”.

“The radios will give us more communication,” said Cornman (the director).  “Anytime you got more communications, you got a better operation.  So that will also have us better communicate with the sheriff’s office with water rescues so that when something is going on.  At the same time, the code officers might not be trained in the water rescues; if we get there before the water rescue professionals, we can get to the area clear.”  (quoted material from mypanhandle.com)

What did he say?  Seriously, read that aloud and see if you can make sense of those words.  Break it down . . .

Okay.  Yes, radios will provide “more” communication if you’ve got zero now.  But I do not get the odd fragment “so that when something is going on”.  If something is going on, they can do what? Order pizza, have a beer, call MOM?? Finally, the water rescue points are head-spinning.  If the code officers get there before trained rescue professionals, why does it matter that the officers get there “clear”?  What does that mean?  Arriving clear as opposed to fuzzy?  And why even show up if they can’t execute a rescue?  What is the point? 

What is he saying?????

I did not vote for Cornman (his real name, by the way).

I am not "voting" for Judge Barrett.

But I am voting for a few people on 10/24, the first day of early in-person in Walton County. I do have the power to pick the people who pick the people who pick the other people who pick the other people who hopefully pick people who aren’t incoherent . . . or MOM obsessed.

Please VOTE; make your MOM proud.

XO

Joyce

WTF is going on? Reality up for grabs.

Dear you,

Reality – the world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them.

Is anything real-ly happening?  Trump caught the big C.   Some Trumpers theorize POTUS was purposely infected with Covid-19 by the left.  Some lefties (including me) suggest he wasn’t infected, just faking it for sympathy or to “disprove” the danger of the virus.  Back to confusion and absolutely no certainty about what is and what isn’t.

Here in Seagrove Beach, Earth 2, the show goes on with more mass invasions of huge families and kids on school break(s) that seem to be endless.  Update on distancing:  non-existent here.  Update on masking:  as before, “you decide!”  According to one anonymous invader not-chilling on his balcony perpendicular to mine:  “I love being in a place where I’m free.”  Yes, darling, feel free to inject disinfectant too.  As you wish. I wonder what this gentleman's Trump-Covid theories are? They might be valid.  Why not?  Who the hell knows?

So once again let’s look at some headlines. Which are from the fabulous satirical site The Onion and which are from “real” news sites?

 Rudy Giuliani Tests Positive For Slew Of Obscure Bat Diseases Unrelated To Covid-19

The Key To Running Fast?  A Big Butt, According To New Research

Kamala Harris Admits She Only Supports Biden Because She Hates Trump

Out Of This World:  24 Planets May Be More “habitable” Than Earth, Astronomers Say

Man Standing Outside Polls With AK-47 Just There To Protect People From Voting

Drunk Student Gets Stuck In Dryer, Has To Be Rescued By Firefighters

I am not even going to say which are true and which are false.  Why bother?  Everyone is believing whatever they choose, because, you know, that is what being free is all about.

Now I am going to work on expanding my butt size so I can run to the polls to vote for Biden who I kinda am voting for because I hate Trump and dodge the gun-carrying Trump army poll watchers, one of which is the mom of that drunk student who got stuck in a dryer because he heard time in the fluff cycle would kill bat disease germs, and then I am going to book a non-return flight to one of those 24 more habitable planets, preferably KOI 5715.01 which is 5.5 billion years old and whose average temperature is a “crisp 53.3 degrees”.  And it’s just 2,964 light-years away. 

Not nearly far enough away from Earth 2, but it’s a start.

Cheers to reality, wherever you may find it.

(And thanks, James Clow, for the meme-photo above.)

Love,

Joyce