Let it go?

Dear you,

My dryer died Monday.  Ten minutes into its spin, I heard a thud, like a brick hitting the floor.  Yes indeed, that alarming sound came from my darling dryer. Oddly, the machine kept working, but instead of its typical hum she was wailing. I paused the cycle to check for electrical problems; none existed, so I just let the cycle wind down and endured the mechanical aria. My cat was not happy about that and I was feeling increasingly annoyed. I realized I would have to deal with yet another broken thing.  Ownership is really fun. Then, I thought about my current detachment project, not being mainlined to cable news 24/7 (okay, maybe 16/7). I like it. Free smooth jazz is my soundtrack right now, compliments of a nice little radio station 106.3, the "Sea Breeze". The commercials are limited and the advertisers who support the station are civilized.  You won't hear screaming ads for the Trump Store in Panama City or the latest appeal to buy more more more guns. If and when the all powerful HOA board decides to nix my old school cable feed, I am ready, practiced in the art of moving forward while relying on things from "the past".  So, back to the dryer.  I woke the day after, looked at my note-to-self about calling appliance repair people and just decided to let it go. Gee, how easy is that?  I can hang dry my clothing, smalls, and even light towels and socks from the shower rods in both bathrooms. And I might have a little fun messing with the HOA busy-bodies by stringing a clothesline across the balcony! (That would be worth whatever they fine me.)  If I need to dry something massive like bedding or beach towels, I can use the hideous laundry room on the complex, something I pay for anyway and never use. And there you have it. Another "let it go" task checked.

Are you feeling this way too these days?  Are you thinking about break downs or break ups and coming up with a healthy Plan B? I'm talking about more than appliances or cable access now. In public life, so much breakage is happening and feeling imminent. Shaky democracy, book bans, a trashed environment.  What is my/your Plan B for that?  Do we really have to let the important stuff go too? No, so not a let it go option. We can keep at it, defending democracy and hoping that the opposition will, in time, trip over their own dicks.  For example, we can count on far-right infighting to inadvertently give us some breathing room.  See Florida, the current legislative session in Tallahassee.  The Republicans in charge proposed a bill that would take Florida state taxpayer money to help Trump pay his legal bills.  I know.  Jaw-dropping, isn't it? Well, we got a reprieve from that horror because Governor DeSantis vetoed the bill. Yes, the bill was so deplorable that even Ron said hell no. Now, in addition to his embarrassing failure to win the GOP nod for the presidency, he will have to watch his back (literally) in the state capitol building. No matter how much this dude kissed and kisses Trump's ring, when things got totally psycho, he said "enough".  Like I said, a little hope there.  No need to let go of democracy or giving a damn about our nation just yet.

Still, having a Plan B for most things is probably a good idea. Start small, detach from your dryer and constant screen viewings. Then move on to what seems impossible, like cigarettes, morning coffee, and evening cocktails. Let it go!  Let it go? Wait, no. Not the latter three. When it comes to those addictions, I echo the Governor's hell no and cry VETO!

I will adapt.  But I refuse to soberly die. 

Love,

Joyce

The Analog, The Transient

Dear you,

January 14, 2024, Seagrove Beach, Florida.

A fearless raptor visited me as I strolled about today.

Quite a beauty, this one.

A hawk, brown, white dotted feathers, lush, muscular body.

Its visit was brief; I dared come too close and she/he flew away.

And there it is, my humble epiphany for the day: beauty is transient.

I head inside and tune to the local public radio station (yes, some survive).

Smiles! They play the score from The Sound of Music.

Quite a beauty, that one too, available for real, for free, to anyone with an FM radio.

Free, like analog television once was.

Why did we give that up? 

Even pricey digital cable is on its way out, replaced by even pricier streaming.

See yesterday, the NFL streams a major wild card playoff game, severing access to the big all of us, or mostly all.

Quite cynical, this decision.

Quite sad too.

I worry we are losing access to so much artistry, in poetry, in body art, in reportage.

I pout on a perfectly lovely Sunday. Remedy?

Shift focus to the analog, continuous like a heartbeat, continuous at least until it stops.

Shift to the soundtrack filling my silly condo, listen:

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens/bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens/

bright geese that fly with the moon on their wings/these are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad/

I simply remember my favorite things/and then I don't feel so bad."

My favorite things. Like public radio, televised sports, a fearless hawk.

Very analog.  Very transient.

You made my day, you wonderful (wonder full) transient things.

Gracias.

2024 - the year of beautiful things

Dear you,

2024 begins with some anniversaries.  Tomorrow we have to remember the January 6, 2021, insurrection.  I say "have to" because so many among us deny the carnage party happened and someone has to speak truth to idiocy.  Those who admit to the occurrence blame it on the FBI and Dems, suggesting we/they were under-cover actors trying to make the MAGAs look bad.  No, just no.  Why? Consider the vanity defense.  The FBI and Dems are way too attractive to look like the characters "on stage" that day.  The bad denim pants, reactionary baseball caps, the immense facial hair.  No, just no.  So, we remember. And we speak.

We can also happily remember that fifty years ago we were sane enough (and humane enough) to create the Endangered Species Act (ESA).  So many variants saved, if only for the moment.  I was reminded about this anniversary while listening to NPR, a program featuring scientists fighting for the rights of random beautiful things to exist.  I learned this:  top of the endangered list, orchids and red wolves.  As for the red wolves, there are supposedly only twenty left in the wild.  As for the orchids, some species are vanishing due to global warming (honestly, let's call it what it is, global broiling).

I am sure the fate of endangered wild things seems irrelevant when we think about our wars, our poverty, our emerging tendency to embrace the brutal autocrat-type. But why does relevance matter? Beauty is necessary; it cannot be properly priced or assessed in terms of "use value".  Beauty is worth fighting for. 

So, I hereby declare this new year, 2024, with all its predicted chaos and drama and stupid human activity, to be the YEAR OF BEAUTIFUL WILD THINGS!

Let it be so.

Happy New Year,

Joyce