History of the Trap Vol. 2 - Chapter Two Dance Party: Part 5

 

5

 

I wanted to storm out.  I wanted to defy her.  But I didn’t.  It wasn’t because I wanted to dance with her.  It wasn’t the young toughs she brought with her as enforcement, including two of the Three Hoodlums, Robert Pelley’s thuggish pals, Stevey Tubbs and Walter Drayton.

It was my curiosity.  What was the point of her dancing with me?  It sure as heck wasn't any attraction (that came much later). She wanted to convey something, most likely threats, but if I was going to be prepared for what was to come, I needed to find out what I could.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, and moved out to the dance floor. She followed me and waved to her goons to stay on the sidelines.  When Artie and Ginny saw her move towards me, they looked like they were going to intervene, and I waved them off.  Whatever was going to happen was just going to be Morgan and me.

We stared at each other, a momentary lull in the music. No, there was no love lost between us. For years, Morgan barely recognized my existence.  Now, it was clear I was foremost in her thoughts, but not in a good way. And I just saw her as an appendage to her psychopathic killer boyfriend, Mark Granite.

Robert Short came back to the DJ table and announced, “Ready to rock and sway, boys and girls? How about getting it down with Chicago and their megahit, Sunday at Grant Park?  It starts hard to get you rollin’ and’a reelin’, and then slows down for some up-close huggin’ and’a squeezin’!”

“I hate Chicago,” I said.  “It makes it the perfect song to dance to with you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, nut weasel,” Morgan replied.  Wow.  She must have a million derogatory names for me.

The music started up, and we gyrated in place, about a foot from each other.  She wasn’t too bad as a dancer, but I was truly legendary, but not in a good way.  She was smooth and coordinated, like the trained cheerleader and dancer she was.  I looked more like I was having a seizure and that one or more of my limbs might fall off at any second.

Whatever our style. We did not take our eyes off each other. No, there was no romance or sentiment in our stare. It was more like two wild animals trying to intimidate each other and look for a weak spot to begin to pounce.

Because I was focused on her, I barely noticed others around us stop dancing and circle us, staring. This was big stuff in Loren High’s trapped little world – the boyfriend of accused killer Mark Granite dancing with Mark’s most notorious accuser. The same instincts at play when they devotedly followed the soap I wrote, The Sands of Loren, was no causing them to hover around us.

I was beginning to wonder what the point of this was.  Just to glower at each other?  We didn’t need a dance to send the message that we didn’t like each other.  It seemed like wasting time on the obvious.

Then the music shifted gears and slowed down.  I’d had it and was going to walk away.  I didn’t want to have to come in physical contact with Morgan LaDona Tigh.

Before I could even move to leave the floor, she had her arms around me.  We began a slow spin.  I reluctantly placed my hands on her back, as lightly as I could, and still maintain dancing.

It didn’t matter to her.  She pulled in even closer, tightening her grip.  I instinctively closed mine around her.  Her face was only an inch away from mine.  Our heights were fairly similar.  We were almost on eye level with each other, Morgan having to look up just a fraction.

What would I do if she tried to kiss me?  I’m afraid I would not be able to stop myself.  No, not from kissing back, but from biting her lip. That would be bad for my social standing if I caused the most popular girl in school to bleed from the dance floor.

Bite her lip?  Heck, she might be coming to bite my lip!

But neither of those is what happened.  Instead, she squeezed closer, bringing her head to the side of mine.  I could feel her breath on my ear.  Oh, man, that would really hurt if she tried to bite my ear off.  I tried to flinch back, but she held me tight.

“Back off,” she whispered to me.  Back off?  How could I do that?  She had me in vise grip!  Then I realized she wasn’t talking about dance moves. “Recant.”

I turned my head so she could hear my quiet reply.  “Are you nuts?  I’m not backing off anything.  I saw what I saw!”

“You must be mistaken.  Mark is not like that.  You don’t know him as I do!”

“Yeah/ Well, you don’t know him as I do.”  We continued to turn slowly, keeping our conversation as low and as quiet as we could.  Others must have been amazed at our seeming intimacy.  “Besides, he’s already been convicted.  And I’m not the only witness.”

“You’re the one that matters.  You’re the one who says he saw the murder.  You’re the one your father will listen to.”

So that what it comes down to.  The old Principal’s son has special connections theory.

“Not gonna happen, Morgan.  Mark is where he belongs.”

I felt her hand encompass the back of my neck.  Her fingernails were starting to press into my flesh.  “I can make your life very difficult, Soap Boy.  I can influence people, get you off writing that soap opera.”

“Good!  I’m tired of writing it.”

“That’s just the start.  I can make you become a ghost, a pariah.  I can make things happen where you’ll be the one in trouble with the law, things so bad even your Daddy can’t help you.”

I laughed.  “Threatening a social outcast with being more of a social cast isn’t much of a threat.”

She shifted her head and now looked into my eyes, this time not with anger but pleading. It was the most unnerving move she made. Then she went back to whispering in my ear.  “Please.  You don’t understand.  Believe it or not, I’m the good cop.  There are forces at work that I can’t control.  Do you understand me?”

I understood perfectly.  She was suggesting that some of Mark’s other friends would become violent towards me. I pushed her far enough back that I could look her in the eye.  She almost looked sad, perhaps a little scared herself.  But I wasn’t buying it.  What an act!  If she wasn’t such a scumbag, she might’ve made a good actress for The Sands of Loren.

The song ended. I pushed her away, forcefully uncoupling us. It was our last physical contact for five years. Neither of us said a word.

Was there a tear in her eye?  I thought it couldn’t be so; maybe it was a trick of the light.  Years later, she told me it was a tear.  I don’t know.  Maybe so.  But at that time, I sure as heck didn’t believe it. Even if true, it had to be part of the act.

I pushed my way through the crowd that had gathered around us.  I ran out of the dance, down into a deserted corridor that held science and home economic classes.

I was alone, shaking, unsure as to whether to cry or scream.  I didn’t think about being isolated.  I didn’t think about being followed.

That was a mistake.

Random and Insidious

 It is random.

This disease, this plague, this virus, this pandemic, is random.  It is infecting millions, but the severity of cases seems random and capricious.  

Some who get it barely know they have it.  Some are sick for a few days, home with mild symptoms.  Some have the worst flu/cold/virus of their lives, tussling with it for a couple of weeks.  Some are hospitalized.  Some have symptoms that persist for months.  And some die.

The most vulnerable among us are most at risk.  But that is not universally true.  One of my church's youngest, most vibrant vestry members succumbs to the disease.   Just yesterday, a young father loses his life after a month of struggles, with his loving wife and family pulling out all the stops to save him, trying to make our stubborn, inert medical system respond to his needs.  Young children have died.

It is insidious.

This disease, this plague, this virus, this pandemic is insidious.  Many who get this can shrug it off and get fooled into thinking it's not that big of a deal.  But it's there.  And it is deadly.  And millions worldwide, including 425,000 plus Americans, have died.

Some people walk through the madness, unmasked, without a care for themselves or for others.  Maybe they have some special immunity I don't understand.  Maybe their case was so asymptomatic that they didn't know they had it.  

As horrible as this is, somehow it falls below the recognition that the nation is in crisis.  Maybe by now, they know somebody who has died.  But somehow, they dismiss it as an unfortunate aberration, or maybe it's not really a COVID death.  I'm sorry.  If you have a heart attack while you have COVID or are recovering, that's a COVID related death.  

Random and insidious.

With COVID variants coming, it may become more contagious.  It may affect children more.

We need to mask up, wash our hands, and socially distance.  This is not a game.  This not a matter of personal liberty.  This is life or death, and we need to take it seriously.

I mask.  I socially distance.  I need to do better at hand washing.  I don't do it often enough or long enough.  So there.  I admitted my imperfection.

I also screwed up getting the COVID vaccine.  I wanted to wait until some of the older, more at-risk people I knew were scheduled. 

Which means I didn't call until this morning.  Where I was told that scheduling vaccine appointments were currently "on pause."

My bad.  I am not perfect.

I will wait until availability is announced again.  I am more concerned about those around me than myself.  My son is at college, and although he is cautious, others around him are not.  Someone close to me works in an environment that is...somewhat lax in its approach to this crisis.

I worry.  And I wait.

My heart and soul are crushed by the pain and sorrow I see around me.  My mind and spirit are devastated by the lack of caring I see around me,

Random and insidious.

All my thoughts, love, and prayers to everyone, and that we can pull through this pandemic soon.

History of the Trap Vol. 2: Chapter 2- Dance Party Part 4

 

4

 

Was it worth going to? 

Socially, I’m not sure.  Discovery-wise, it was pretty illuminating.

My heart pounded.  My head thrummed with the vibrations of the music.  It reminded me of dancing with Lisa, and the vibratory hum I would get from holding her close.

We had fewer records to play, thanks in part to Robert Pelley’s collision with them, losing his temper at a dance last September, confronted by his boorish behavior towards Lisa, the last dance Lisa would ever attend. But our DJ, Bob Short, our smooth-voiced news announcer, the number one most trusted student at Loren High, just a-dripping with maturity and confidence. No, The Bob had two bands to rely on as well, Brassy Jazz and The Harlin Brothers (four guys none of whom were named Harlin, nor were any of them brothers).

But there were also records, one of which was playing when I noticed the hum.  It was a song that I had danced to with Lisa.  Sum of My Love by The Wall Nets. I don’t remember many of the words.  “You don’t have jut some of my love…you have the sum of my love.”  I know.  Pop music is strange.

While the Wall Nets played, I played being my new favorite, Wall Flower.  I stood near the side wall of the cafetorium.  If things got tough, I could look through the windows into the courtyard garden. Our agricultural had recently planted a couple of fruit trees, an apple tree and a pear tree. Usually, those were more of a Western Michigan thing, but they seemed to be thriving here, so, what the hey.  Again, we were grateful for Mr. Bruchow’s large inventory of seeds.  Mr. Bruchow had proven to be our most valuable and practical teacher.  Between my father’s Mr. Bruchow’s agricultural knowledge and the discovery of the Farm, our food palate was increasing in diversity every month.

I looked across the dance floor.  Ginny was dancing close with Artie.  They were affectionate, but not overtly mauling each other.  Artie had long resisted school dances, but Ginny had finally broken his resistance down. I won’t lie.  I still felt a twinge drawing me to her, but for the most part, I was happy to see them together.  There was so much heartache. It was good to see two people in love.

Looking past them, I saw Morgan near the opposite wall. My first reaction was surprise that she wasn’t dancing. I knew that her beau was now behind bars, but I thought she was the type that would still party. 

Then, as I brought her into focus, I could see the set of her face.  She was glowering, staring right at me, her eyes on fire.

Well, fine.  Be upset with me all you want.  It doesn’t change what your boyfriend did.

She could glower all she wanted.  I didn't have to look at it. I averted my gaze to Bob Short, who was getting ready to put on another song.  “Hey, Lookouts!  What say we step it up a notch?  Let’s go all out with Gina and the Giraffes, and their powerful ballad, I Want Out of Here? “

That was a good one, and a sentiment many in the Trap could identify with. I applauded, and then I felt a presence right in front of me. I turned and saw it was. I was so surprised, I took a half-step back, banging against the courtyard window.

“Dance with me, Soap Boy.”  It was Morgan, inches from my face, still looking fierce.

What was this about?  Why would she want to dance with me?  Whatever her motivation, it couldn’t be good.

“N-no!” I stuttered out.  “Are you out of your mind?  I’m not gonna dance with you!  I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”

She flashed a smile that was more terrifying than her glower. “Tough tiggers, Principal’s kid.  You don’t have a blanking choice,”  She didn’t say blanking,  That’s my substitute. 

 

 

 

Pre-Inauguration Wednesday Wanderings

O beautiful hat!  How I covet thee!

The time of the Orange One is drawing to a close.  Less than five hours as I write this.

Still, even with so little time left, I have fear over what he will do.  So much breaking of precedent, so much rudeness, so much nastiness, so much anti-democratic behavior.

As I write this, there is no sign yet that he will pardon his immediate family members or himself.  I think people close to him have convinced him that it might cause problems at his impeachment trial in the Senate. That doing so might make him look more guilty.

Then Laurence O'Donnell, the host of the MSNBC show The Last Word, mentioned that not all pardons are made public.  That there is such a thing as secret pardons that may stay secret until they are brought up by necessity.  So, Trump could survive the impeachment trial, get arrested for a Federal crime, then whip out his secret pardon and go, "Psych!" Wouldn't that be a kick in the nutty region!

It's been a tough four years.  I've lost a lot of sleep, experienced heaps of stress.  Much of it has been centered around that I live around so many people who have never wavered in their support of him.  It has caused me to be often confused, but mostly angry at how otherwise intelligent and caring people could be so blind.

Because it permeates so much. my blog has been more political than I intended.  Yes, I do post non-political things, but I think the political percentage has gone up over the last four years.  I can't help it.  Although the blog is not a single-purpose blog, it reflects who I am and what I am thinking about.

I can forgive those who supported Trump, especially if they join us in finding solutions to the many crises facing the country and the world.  You don't have to agree with my solutions, but you do have to engage.  You have to be willing to work together.  The problems are too great not to seek understanding and compromise.

I can forgive, but I cannot forget because, in the future, you could be driven to support another authoritarian fascist, maybe one that's even more dangerous by being more intelligent and crafty.  The threat to the Republic is not over, even if Trump is banished.  One horrible thing we know is true - The Empire Always Strikes Back.  We must remain vigilant.

I can forgive, but I must tell my Trumpeteer friends this -

You never should have supported him.  Not once.  Not for one second.  He was always a narcissistic monster.  He was always a racist and misogynist.  He was always a failed businessman.  He didn't deserve your support for dog catcher, much less President of the United States.

I have read hundreds of articles and many books trying to understand why you (Trump voters) did what you did.  

I don't care anymore.

Just don't ever do it again.

 

The Year That Wouldn't End: 2020 Year in Politics - Saturday Political Soap Box 266

 

It's hard to do a political year in review when 2020 just. Won't.  End.

THE GOOD

Sometimes (but not always - please see 2016), the person we need most for the times we are facing emerges, from our convoluted and messy presidential process, as President.

That is true for Joe Biden.  He may not be the political progressive firebrand that I want, but he does have the experience and ability to lead us through the DEEP crises we are faced with.  There is no one whose campaign style suited COVID times better than Joe, and there is no one as capable of reaching across our divisions to try to get something done.

For the first time in American History, we also have a female Vice-President, one who can step into the Presidency if needed.  To me, what is most exciting about her is not the barriers she has broken, but that she is highly competent and qualified.  

Plus, thanks to the Miracle in Georgia, she will be...

Woot-woot!

Mitch McConnell will no longer have a stranglehold on American power!  Legislation will be voted on!  Cabinet officials will be voted on!  Judicial nominees will be voted on! 

No, I never thought that I would be living the blue life in Georgia!  I am so excited and proud!  Biden!  Warnock!  Ossoff!  The trajectory of the nation is changed, and my home state did it!

The Bad

74 million people voted for the worst President in American History.  Despite the Georgia win, my home county voted 87% for Trump and 88% each for Loeffler and Perdue.

The Republicans gained seats in the House.  Democrats retain control, and the number of Progressives increased (the seats lost were almost universally by Blue Dog Democrats).  This will make legislation more of a slog.  It's not impossible, but the level of vile and bile will not go down.

Although control of the Senate is absolutely vital for the Biden administration to achieve anything, the margin is too thin to guarantee much of anything.  In my view, control of the Senate has passed from MITCH McCONNELL to JOE MANCHIN. The term is overused, but yes, he's pretty much a DINO - Democrat in Name Only.  What can I say?  He represents West Virginia, one of the reddest states we have.

Biden has many problems - he faces as deep a stream of crisis as any incoming President we've had.  I appreciate his desire for cooperation from Republicans, and I pray that he gets it, BUT,,,

The Ugly and the Monstrous

With his behavior on January 6th and his well-deserved second impeachment, Trump has sealed the deal - he is by far the worst President in American History.

I won't even go into his behavior in prior years.  For that, just review the dozens of posts I have about the Trumpocalypse (tagged for your viewing convenience).  I can't even explore all the horrible things he did in 2020.  I want to do a blog post, not a book.

I will highlight two things- 

1) His reaction to the pandemic was a disaster that led to hundreds of thousands of unnecessary deaths in the United States.  Who can argue with this - we have 4.25% of the world's population and 25% of the world's cases, and 20% of the world's COVID deaths.  According to my Trump Premium calculation  (please see related post), I hold him directly responsible for a quarter-million deaths.

His incompetence and ignorance have affected our nation's reaction from the start.  He has been dismissive, having us turning the corner almost every week, wanting us to leave quarantines and lockdowns almost before they really begin, recommending we drink bleach, refusing to protect himself and others - turning mask-wearing into an effing political issue.  Personal liberty TRUMPS social responsibility and public safety.  I am as angry about this as I have ever been about anything in my entire life.

We are haunted by his incompetence even today, with the slow rollout of the vaccine.

The number of cases and deaths are higher than ever, and due to his dividing us, we seem incapable of responding.

It's one thing to live with the way people voted around here.  It's another trying to survive their barbaric response to the pandemic.

2) His denial of the election results has led this country to a nightmare reaction and a true ripping apart of Democratic norms.  We stand on the brink of fascism, and none of us can breathe easier until he is gone.

Left in his wake are millions who believe his lies, some who are so ginned up that they attacked the Capitol building, and the fact that they aren't more dead, including the Vice President, is just simple luck.

Most of us want to turn the corner and head into the light of democracy, of a functioning republic.  But others only see it as a vast cultural war, where everything is on the line for them - that the most important thing is to hold onto white privilege and control, who want to turn the nation into a Christian Reich Theocratic State.

Donald Trump may soon be gone, but the hate he riled up and solidified will be with us for a long time to come.

2020 has left us broken and hurt.  But, in the end, it did bring us some hope.

But it also brought us fear.

We must never give up.  We must never surrender.

We must never sit out another election.

The number one lesson of 2020 is that we outnumber them IF WE ALL SHOW UP.

House In Disguise

 

It's a magic trick!

We are in the process of disguising our house.

We got a brick house.  Yes, it's true.  She's built like a .... brick house.  Or so the song goes.

It is a special orangey brick color that screams...

Let's party like it's 1973!!!

Ok, honestly, it doesn't bother me that much.  The maintenance needs of brick are minimal to none.  I would look at other homes and go, "Yeah?  It's good looking compared to ours, but at least we don't have to worry about maintaining PAINT!!!"

But the brick color did not sit well with Alison.  And I have to admit, having a house the color of Trump's face seemed something worth moving away from.  Besides, the right color might help if we decide to sell it.  You know, in case we had grandchildren and wanted to move closer to them, preferably in a Blue County or area.

So, what does it look like now?

Ain't that sweet?

The color is called Scottish Moor.  We're one step closer to Outlander.

I think it's going to increase our home resale value.

Please don't tell the tax assessor. 

Well, who knows about that?  The picture above indicates I may need to start worrying about my patchy lawn.

Anybody know a cheap place to get astroturf?

The Best Part

 

The best part of waking up is knowing you're not dead.

More often than not now, that was the song running through his head first thing in the morning—a little twist on the theme in the old Folger's coffee cup commercials. 

Well, there was another sign of getting old. If he sang it to his kids, they would probably have no idea where it came from. And, hell, they were in their thirties.

He carefully pulled himself out of bed. His left foot rebelled slightly as it hit the floor. It hurt, but it was marginally better than yesterday. Small blessings.

As he stood up, his back rebelled.  It started to twinge, but he carefully managed to avoid an all-out spasm. Back pain wasn't new. It's something that had been occurring for over two decades.  Most of the time, it was just an annoyance, as it was this morning.

The morning routine began with a trip to the can and a major league bladder distension. If it was one of those rare nights where he slept through without having to get up to urinate (sometimes multiple times), it might be one of those Austin Powers wees, one where you wonder if you might fill up the whole bowl.

Wash your hands thoroughly! These were COVID times, after all.  This was a new habit for him.  Sure, he had washed hands before, but not quite as compulsively and as long as he did now.

He checked his phone, that wonderful new device that put all knowledge at his fingertips.  So what did he check?  His Facebook feed to see if anyone had liked or responded to anything he had posted, see if he had any messages, and see any funny memes. Like most mornings, there was nothing there.  Well, except for Delbert McKenzie responding to one of his political posts with, "I thought you were smart than that!" Well, he thought, I fooled you, didn't I?

He opened the bedroom door and padded down the hallway.  He froze for a minute.  He thought he saw Waldo out of the corner of his eye. But he couldn't have – Waldo had passed six months ago.  It had been the longest he had been without a dog.

Sure enough, whatever fleeting thing he thought he saw dissipated.  He was alone.  Alone in a house he may soon have to give up.

He went to the kitchen, turned on the fluorescent overhead, and then put a K-cup in the single-serve coffee maker.  K-cups might be an environmental waste, but it wasn't easy to make coffee for just one with just him now.  Practically and speed won out over environmental responsibility.  Just something else to feel guilty about.

The flavor was called Donut Shop.  What the hell did that mean?  Was it supposed to taste like donuts?  It just tasted like regular coffee to him.  He was no connoisseur.  Coffee was simply a caffeine delivery system to him.  He did add two packs of Stevia to it and some powdered creamer (French vanilla, something he could distinguish in taste more than the actual coffee).

He took a sip and then looked at the time.  What the hell?  Fifteen minutes had passed since he got up.  How did that happen?  Did it take that long to take a leak and then come out here to get coffee ready?

He thought he had more time!  He needed to be at Freedom Tax Service by 8 AM!

He tried to gulp the coffee quicker, only for it to choke him, and have to backwash it into the cup. He'd have to skip breakfast and also his shower.  Oh. Well. Who's gonna know?  Slap on some deodorant and comb his hair, and he'd be good to go.

January 6^th, 2021.  Part of him wanted to stay and see the confirmation of the electoral college vote.  He was a political buff and realized it might not be as straight forward this year. Unfortunately, it was only the third day at his new job, and he not only needed to be there, but he also needed to be on time.

He took off his nightshirt and put on a blue dress shirt.  He instinctively reached out for a tie and then remembered it was his old job that required one, not his new job. Freedom wanted their employees to be dressed only a tad better than the clientele.  They wanted to come across as competent but also as accessible and friendly.  It also gave the impression that maybe they didn't cost as much money as the dressier tax folk.

Whether they cost more was an open matter, one he hadn't researched.  They mostly funded themselves by fast-forwarding the client's refund, at a heavily discounted amount, and then having the IRS check turned into Freedom dollars.  That didn't seem cheaper, but most of the clients didn't care because they got money the same day Freedom did their taxes.

He finished putting on his office clothes and saw he had a half-hour left.  It took twenty minutes to get there, so it was time to get out of the house and into the Nissan Sentra.

In taking off, he soon found another surprise.  The passenger side tire was almost flat.  Again.  He could pull into a gas station and fill it, but that would lose whatever little margin he had to reach Freedom on time.

Stay calm.  He opened the car glove compartment and got out a small bottle of baby aspirin, chunked two into his mouth, and started to chew.

Oh, well.  The start of another great day in the Southland.

The best part?  Aldie Martin wasn’t even sure that it was because he was not dead.  That was just a song in his head.

The best part may also be the worst part.  The joy of remembering her.  The pain in knowing she was not there.  Except as a memory, a Waldoesque shadow, her presence always on his mind, always just around the corner of his reality.

The worst part of waking up is knowing she’s not there.

History of the Trap Vol. 2 Chapter 2: Dance Party Part 3

 

3

 

The dance was delayed a week later than intended because, apparently, it was the time of the year.

One of the oddities of the Trap was that all the females stopped having periods.  At least that’s what we thought.  I didn’t have girls rush up to me and tell me whether or not it was their time, but I sure didn’t hear anything otherwise. 

At the same time, there were no pregnancies.  I haven’t got into it, Doctor, and I probably won’t, but yes, there was activity in the Trap that should have led to babies, but it did not.  I thought it might be related to the lack of a normal cycle.

Now, a little over a year later, it happened all at once, within about two weeks.  Luckily, Mrs. Novik had kept the inventory of sanitary napkins, and that part of it was taken care of.

I had been told that women get quite cranky as their period approaches, and that is why they couldn’t be President or other positions that required a level head.  I don’t know.  I didn’t notice much of that.  I’m sure some might have existed, but not enough for me to note. In my time in the Trap, I noticed more erratic behavior from men than I did women.

Mrs’ Novik pleaded with my father to wait until it was through before he scheduled the dance.  My father was chauvinistic enough that he quickly acceded to her request.  He wanted to deal with that as little as possible.

No one had a grasp on it scientifically, not even our brightest.  On the one hand, our food crops grew fast and robust, on some kind of accelerated time table.  On the other hand, it was becoming more apparent than our own age processes had slowed.  Our hair grew slowly.  I was hard-pressed to see anyone who had visibly aged, or grown in height.  And now, were women’s cycles going to be yearly instead of monthly?

Many things to ponder.  I was still a teenage boy (17 technically), and my worldview was still fairly self-centered.  So, the scientific concerns of the Trap received consumed little of my thinking time.  Mostly I was running a Hamlet style debate in my head as to whether or not to attend the dance.

I did not feel comfortable having “fun,” especially at a dance.  I had no interest in moving on to another relationship.  I didn’t resent others' relationships, like Ginny and Artie, but I had to be honest and admit it heebie-jeebied me a tad.  I wasn't sure how emotionally music would affect me, especially if it were a song I connected to Lisa.  Yeah, I was going through the kinds of mood swings that the guys were associating with the women and their ‘time.”

I also considered that I had friends who cared about me and wanted me there.  And I was, by nature, an observer, learning about people as I watched them interact with each other.  It helped inspire me in story direction and developing characterization for The Sands of Loren.

So, I could stay in my sleeping room, maybe the library, take a pass of the night’s activities.  Or I could go, start to draw myself out more, risk a gradual climb back into social engagement.

I emulated Hamlet up until the very last minute, and then I made up my mind.

 

Hello, Mike Pence

 

Hello, Vice President Mike Pence.  How are you?

I know we've never really talked before.  I apologize, but it's true.  You are antithetical to everything I stand for and are one of my least favorite politicians.

But we need to talk.

I appreciate you playing the constitutional role you were required to do in administering the reading of the certified electoral college election results. You read with aplomb and the solid confidence of a man who can actually read and sound coherent.

You did not kowtow to the President's illegal request for you to not accept the states that would have handed the Presidency back to a  man who lost the popular vote by over seven million.  You came back after the Trump-incited Capitol Riots, undeterred and ready to do your duty.

You did all that, and Trump used your commitment to your constitutional duties and unwillingness to do what he wanted as a way to gin up a crowd to march on the Capitol.  He used you, and did not care about your safety.

But it wasn't just you endangered.  He endangered the lives of every Congressperson, of every Senator, of every staff person, of the Capitol police. He even used his own supporters as cattle fodder for his own goal - to retain power at any cost.

Four people died as a result.  As horrible as that was, it could have been a lot worse.  Unimaginably worse.

Property was damaged and vandalized, windows were broken, lives were threatened.  A rioter sat at the desk you had been at just minutes before, in the Senate chambers, declaring Trump the victor.

And this madness may be just the beginning.  And you know that.

Everything you've done for him, and he does this to you.

You know what you have to do, for the sake of the survival of the country.  You have to convene the cabinet and invoke the 25th Amendment.  You have no real choice.  A man who incites riots is not fit to lead this country.

For the sake of us all, you must assume the mantel of the Presidency and facilitate the peaceful transition to the certified winners of the election, President-Elect Biden and Vice-President Harris.  No more incitement of false claims of a rigged and fraudulent election.  Those baseless and self-serving claims are tearing this country apart, and it's time to heal and unite.

No one says you have to give up your principles and ideals.  You fight for what you believe in and are magnanimous and understanding, in both victory and loss.  You will not divide us and demonize us.

I know you can do this.  I know that, despite our many differences, we value this country and the preservation of democracy (ok, at least that's my hope).

You have my permission and encouragement.  Invoke the 25th Amendment and end Trump's madness. America will be supportive and will breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Oh, and one other thing -

DO NOT PARDON THAT SON OF A B!*

*taking into consideration your sensitivities, I have moderated my use of language.  You're welcome.

Short Life Span Predictions: Updated Georgia BLUE

 

Oh, how I want those two in the Senate! 

History does not favor Democrats in Georgia statewide runoff elections.  But historical trends are just that - trends, and trends can be broken.  Just ask Barack Obama or Kamala Harris.

If you asked me mid-November, I would have only given about 20% odds that Ossoff and Warnock could win.

I've since changed my mind.  I don't think it's any kind of lock, but I do think it's at least even money.

Early voting turnout has been incredible, and the Republicans have acted like they don't want to win, with a mighty thanks and a hat's tip to their toddler-in-chief, Trump, whose erratic and spoiled behavior has put his own selfish interests ahead of his party.

I may be proven wrong in relatively short order, but here goes my best analysis:

Unless there is a decisive margin in same-day voting for Democrats, this will go on for a while, anywhere from two days to a week. 

The way the vote is counted, absentee ballots are at the end of the counting train.  If you'll remember the Presidential election, it was with these votes that Biden pulled ahead.

There is nothing wrong with this.  Every vote counts equally.  It's the way the state has chosen to count.  Some states count early vote and absentees first.  It's why at first, it looked like Biden might be competitive in Ohio and Texas. It's also why he was behind at first in states like Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin - because the Republican legislators in those states set same-day vote to be counted first.

So...

if Ossoff and Warnock lead after the first set of same-day voting comes in - start the party! Congratulations, Rev. Warnock!

If it's close, even if the Republicans have a slight lead -  get ready for a party! Looking good, Jon Ossoff!

If the initial Republican lead is slightly greater, say three to four points - hang in there and start the prayer vigil. Well, thank goodness we don't have to suffer through that!

This is not a done deal.  But I have hope. Hope is alive!  Hope is alive!

Updates to follow!

UPDATE 7:11 AM

WARNOCK WINS!  WARNOCK WINS!

All major networks have declared Warnock the winner, and he leads with over 53,000 votes, with about 98% of the vote reported.

Ossoff has not been called, but he leads Perdue by 16,370 votes.

Most of the vote remaining is reportedly in Democratic areas!

I have never been more proud of my chosen home state, Georgia!

As I saw Rob Reiner state on Twitter, "John Lewis is smiling down on us!"

SECOND UPDATE

OSSOFF WINS!  OSSOFF WINS!

This occurred during the Trump incited Capital Riot, and did not get the attention it deserved.

He will be the youngest Senator we've had since Joe Biden was first elected. 

And what does this mean, not just for Georgia but the country as a whole?

Yep.  McConnell no longer controls the Senate.

With all the horror over what happened at the Capital, there is now a light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank God!  And the voters of Baby Blue Georgia!

The Most Hypocritical Political Sign Ever! Saturday Political Soap Box 265

 This sign has popped up all over my county.  Some are strung along in a row, a dozen or more.

This is the message someone(s) in my county wants to send:

STOP ONE PARTY RULE

To which I say -

Really?

Really?

REALLY?

Never have I seen expressed a more HYPOCRITICAL sentiment in all my time here, dating back to 1997. 

Really, Pierce Countians?  That's what you believe - that we have to stop one-party rule?  Are you kidding me?

You, who vote straight Republican year after year after year, at the NATIONAL level, at the STATE level, at the LOCAL level, are suddenly worried about ONE PARTY RULE?

You, whom some of you have told me, don't understand the necessity of a general election because all that's decided in the Republican primary?

You, who vote like a monolith and consider Democrats to be barely human?

You, who EVERY TIME I have posted about being concerned about our lack of true democracy here, and wouldn't you like to have competitive elections and have choices, and aren't you tired of voting where there is only one realistic option, and so many Republicans run unopposed. and our elections are Soviet-style, and you all just shrug and think that what I am asking for is the most unimportant and irrelevant thing ever?

Now I'm supposed to believe you're all twitterpated about ONE PARTY RULE? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

YOU PRACTICALLY INVENTED ONE PARTY RULE!

YOU RELISH ONE PARTY RULE!

So, Tom, aren't you being a hypocrite?  Don't you want one-party rule by the Godless heathen Democrats?

Oh, for God's sake.  Read my stuff, man.  I've said over and over and over again about how I want a MULTI-PARTY system.  I want different groups to combine for different legislation, in ever-shifting coalitions that compromise and get stuff done.

I've made it clear over and over again that I'm an Independent Progressive, not a Democrat.  I don't care too much for many conservative/corporate Democrats, but I see them as potential partners to move at least a few things forward.  And if some very conservative and populists legislators like Senator Hawley share some agenda items, like for $2,000 checks to COVID ravaged everyday Americans - then bring them in for that vote.

If the Republicans retain the Senate, it is not ONE PARTY RULE we will have avoided.  You know what we will have?

ONE MAN RULE

And that man will be -

MITCH McCONNELL

Nothing will be accomplished.  All legislation, bipartisan or otherwise, will die at his doorstep - he won't let it come to the floor to even be voted on.  Judgeships will be stopped, many cabinet appointees may not even get a vote.  Only the interests of the wealthy and big corporations will be served.

All I want, at this point, is to see legislation and appointees voted on.  If you had a Republican Senate Majority Leader who was willing to do that, I would be less concerned.

Case in point: the $2,000 checks, in the current environment, would have passed in the Senate on a straight up or down vote.  But McConnell wouldn't let that happen.  He used every parliamentary trick in the book to prevent it from even being voted on.  He used his power to thwart the will of the majority who wanted it.

And if he remains in charge of the Senate, he will do that again and again and again.

We are in a state of crisis in this country.  COVID, climate change, a cratering economy, destabilized foreign policy, so many little problem bombs left to us by the exiting orange clown.  And we need a Congress who is willing to vote on legislation, at least put themselves on the record one way or another.  None of this will happen as long as McConnell is in charge.

What are we talking about?  If Georgia votes in two competent and compassionate people, and vote out two corrupt and uncaring individuals, the Senate will be 50-50, with Vice President Harris breaking the tie in favor of Democratic Senate leadership.

And this is the one-party rule you fear?  HA!

I got two words for you -

JOE MANCHIN

Yep, he's about as Republican a Democrat as you can get.  So what if you get Progressive legislation before the Senate?  He'll vote with the Republicans more often than not.

And he's not alone.  Many of the Democrats in the Senate are not truly Progressive and will whiff on some of the most important measures we need.  I love Joe Biden, and I'm ecstatic that he's President, but he's a pretty moderate Democrat, one who is desperate to work with Republicans in a bipartisan fashion.

Pierce County is going to vote 85%+ Republican no matter what.  That sign is not going to increase or decrease the vote margin here one way or another.

But the rank hypocrisy of that sign?

It stinks.

It stinks to high heaven.