 Wayne and I have to remind each other daily that the flabbergasting absurdity of this election has seeped into our lives in a somewhat abrasive manner. We find ourselves in bad moods whose origins have no apparent reason, other than having read some the posts on social media. I want to look with the same trepidation as someone watching gruesome scenes from a horror movie through the spaces between their fingers. I scroll down through the comments like a potato-chip addict, unable to read just one, and I’m ashamed by what the Trumpsters are saying in support of a fairly obvious misogynist. I want to redirect them back to the issues at stake such as healthcare, diplomacy, equality, but it all seems to be in vain. When I ask for their sources, they quietly slither away, or worse, come up with long-winded, conspiracy-laced explanations as to why Hillary is so awful. Come on you guys, it's politics. For one thing, can a person really talk to a eight-year-old in the same way they’d speak to a multi-degreed diplomat? And who is leaking what? Do you know for sure where the leaks came from? How? Have you ever said anything you wish you could have taken back? Yes? Now try juggling that with family, the country, the world, disparate viewpoints, and some fairly impossible people. Think you’re up for it? Still think the guy who hasn’t dabbled a chubby pinky in world diplomacy can pull it off? I’ve just read a disturbing article in The Week about conspiracy theorists. Apparently, some of them believe that the Sandy Hook incident was actually "created by the government." I'm not kidding. One father who lost his 6-year-old son still gets hate mail accusing him of being a paid actor, that his son never really existed. Then there’s the humorous side. Mr. Trump has handed comedians their material on a golden platter. Just as in the 2008 election, they barely have to stray from what’s actually being said. I can only hope that what Tina Fey did for Democratic ticket back then, Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon* can accomplish for this election. There. I’ve said it. I’ve gone ahead and made a political statement on my otherwise, egocentric, weight-watching, wood-chopping blog. I like the way I’ve grown a thicker skin when the trolls try to hammer me with insults and abusive schoolyard banter. Am I worried about the backlash of those disappointed by the election’s outcome? Oh yeah. But I’m still with her, and understand that if she’s elected, she’s probably bringing Bernie with her. *Kate McKinnon went to my high school on Long Island. Many years later of course, but still, I feel like a proud, very distant relative. Meanwhile, for historic reasons, I’ve compiled some of my favorite postings and memes of the times.     Major Ew! What's he doing to that chair?!?     And my personal favorite...
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 “You get some bling tonight,” Gail announced, as I stepped off the scale. After nearly six months of carefully measuring portions by spoons and cups, exercising, mindful eating, and SmartPoint-counting, I had finally earned the sought-after, the highly coveted, the revered… the 25-pound weight loss trinket from Weight Watchers! I still have more I want to lose, but so far I’ve now lost the equivalent of a large-sized bag of cat food from Costco. To think I was lugging that around like a fat jacket! And the weight loss process has become somewhat of a lab experiment for me. Cause and effect. Careful attention to detail. You can make this happen when you do that? Bring it on. I may be hammering this subject when I originally said I wouldn’t, but I’m just so tickled by the results. And to anyone who’s been struggling with weight loss, to quote one of my all-time favorite teachers: “If I can do it, you can do it.” I understand there are roadblocks which can seem so insurmountable as to make you want to quit. My own weakness: salty snacks. Potato chips, tortilla chips, roasted nuts… sorry… I’ll stop now. The siren-like thought of a Frito, or some Trader Joe’s Inner Peas (but they’re baked!) can be nearly impossible to resist. I’ve come right to the brink of surrendering—especially at one of those giant gas-stops on I-5, where I stand at the end of the chips aisle in the middle of a long drive thinking, “What could one small bag do? I’m on a business trip and I’ve worked very hard.” Here are some excuses I’ve used which may be helpful:
Try it sometime. Walk past a doughnut shop and see if you can enjoy just smelling them instead of eating them. You can beat back those sirens. I believe in you.  |
Here's where I expound on whatever I'm passionate about at the time. I welcome your comments, as long as you're not hateful, a terrorist, or attempting to pedal work-at-home offers.
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