It Is What It Is

This looks like a job for Grandfather Man!

Image by Nina Garman from Pixabay

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.   

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional meltdown. 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Always remember the last words of my grandfather who said: 'A truck!'"

                                                                                   -Emo Philips

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

A given it is what it is, is as obvious as, the fact that life is one thing after another...

{And you sir, have a keen eye for the obvious. Wouldn't this be a good place to insert that Edna St. Vincent Millay quote? "It's not true that life is one damn thing after another — it's one damn thing over and over — there's the rub — first you get sick — then you get sicker...}

No, too depressing.

Anyways, what I find interesting is that although both phrases are literally true — for example, life is one thing after another for creatures that experience life linearly — both can simultaneously be literally and poetically true.   

For example, according to dictionary.com (and The New York Times) the phrase it is what it is can be traced back to an article by J.E. Lawrence published in the Nebraska State Journal in 1949, and was deployed thusly. 

“New land is harsh, and vigorous, and sturdy. It scorns evidence of weakness. There is nothing of sham or hypocrisy in it. It is what it is, without apology.”

{Huh. Fascinating stuff there Cranky.}

A sturdy column, not unlike a sturdy house, must be "founded upon a rock" and not "upon the sand" lest the rains descend, the floods come, and the winds blow.

{Or somebody huffs, and puffs, and blows your column down?}

Begone, infidel, I'm teaching life lessons here!

Recently, one of the Stickies witnessed someone nearly dying from an opioid overdose as he/she/they (far be it from me to assign a pronoun) was about to tuck into a stack of pancakes at a Denny's restaurant. 

Short story short, his head suddenly slumped forward, 911 was dialed, NARCAN® was administered, our protagonist was carted out. 

{When his head slumped forward did it land...}

No, Dana, it didn't land in his/her/their pancakes... stop laughing! 

Now, one of my bright, comely, and empathetic young grandpersons was the Sticky that witnessed this drama and she (her pronoun choice) was understandably horrified/mildly traumatized. 

When she recounted this misadventure to me, unable to help myself, I dashed into the nearest phone booth and emerged — hands-on-hips, a large G on my chest, my cape gently swaying in the non-existent breeze — as Grandfather Man!

[Insert brief, heroic fanfare]

"Did he/she/they survive as far as you know?" I asked. 

"Yes," she replied. 

Seeking to comfort her, I immediately invoked three of my superpowers. 

My Mr. Spock-like tendency to revert to logic/reason (or at least try to) in the face of crisis. My Groucho Marx-like tendency (or at least try to) to look for the smile in the face of same. And, of course, my keen eye for the obvious.

I pointed out that while the situation certainly sucked sweaty socks, at least he/she/they left the restaurant alive. 

I pointed out that it's not what happens to you in life, it's how you react to it (once you catch your breath), what you do about it, and deciding if there is anything you can do about it. 

(I refrained from pointing out this is Stoicism 101, hoping she'd think I'm smarter than I look.) 

I pointed out that if he/she/they had died the last thought thought/emotion experienced would have been something like, "Ooooh, pancakes!" 

{Thought thought?}

Thought thunk?    

I pointed out that the obvious lesson to be learned was that although I was worldly-wise enough to understand that she might consider experimenting with alcohol and weed when she reached her mid-twenties (although 30 would be better), that all other recreational pharmaceuticals should always and forever be avoided. 

{Well, at least you have a realistic perspective.}   

She then threw her arms around me, kissed me gently on the cheek, and said, "I love you, Poppa, I hope that I can be there for you when you're in your dotage so that I can care for you and repay you for all that you have done for me!"

{Not even close, Sparky, I think you're already sliding into dotafication.}

Well, I'm certain that she thought about it. But being a gentle, shy, naturally modest and reserved gentleperson by nature, she successfully resisted her immediate impulse.

{I'm impressed. How ever did you manage to deduce that from the dubious expression on her face?}  

It was obvious.   

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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It’s All a Con, Man

 A Conspiracies of Convenience column

Image by Please Don't sell My Artwork AS IS from Pixabay 

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.   

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional meltdown.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Life isn't black and white, It's a million grey areas, don't you find?"

-Ridley Scott

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

In a past life — and a long time ago in a state far, far away (Texas) — I found myself working briefly but closely with a gentleperson named Bob. We were co-managers of a company that ran ice cream trucks in Austin.

Managing the gentlepeople who drive ice cream trucks was the inspiration for the phrase, like herding cats.

Bob had a habit of saying, “It’s all a con, man” whenever something even weirder/stranger/more disturbing/etcetering than usual happened and peed on our Chi. I got into the habit of responding, “It’s a feckin conspiracy, what it is.”

I have written elsewhere that "A conspiracy of convenience is one that doesn't require a Dr. Evil or even a Simon Bar Sinister to concoct and control." People can find themselves involved in the same conspiracy without ever having met most, if any, of their fellow conspirators."

Multiple virtual conspirators who appear to be part of an organized conspiracy are, often as not, merely individuals who happen to be inspired by the same ideology — or following the money. 

I was thinking about my brief Texas adventure the other day, something I do from time to time. I met my late, great wife there, the culmination of the best year of my life (so far).

However, I'm sorry Bob, but I don't usually think about you.

{Let me guess, this is where you tell us about how although you haven't seen each other since 1985 you faithfully exchange Christmas cards and...}

Nope. Haven't seen hide nor hair (nor Christmas Card) since. But I've never forgotten Bob's world-class cynicism and great sense of humor, both of which shielded a man with a big heart.

This is why, when I was recently reminded that the Black Lives Matter organization still exists, I thought of Bob.

{Right. Obviously?}

Well... I knew that, like me, Bob would have two questions if he was recently reminded that BLM still exists (assuming Bob still exists). The first one would be, I wonder where all the money went? 

The other would be, what changed between the summer of 2020 and the summer of 2021 for African-Americans? And where did all the mostly peaceful protestors go?

{Wait, wait, wait. What was it that got you thinking about the BLM organization in the first place? You're clearly a POP (person of pallor).} 

I was reminded that the organization still exists, at least in New York City, when Eric Adams — former cop, current African-American, and the next mayor of the Big Apple — was "called out" by Hawk Newsom (co-founder of BLMs New York Chapter) after the group recently met with Adams.

Adam's promised that if he was elected, he'd take back control of the streets. Mr. Newsom said, "There will be riots, there will be fire and there will be bloodshed" if the new mayor fulfills his promise to reinstate plainclothes cops in NYC.    

Anyways... where did all the money go? Type something like the following into your search engine of choice (I prefer the Googs). "What did Black Lives Matter do with all the donations they received in 2020?

I followed several links and came to the following conclusion. Officially, BLM pulled in roughly $90,000,000 in 2020, gave grants of $21,700,000 to various organizations, and spent $8,400,000 on expenses. 

This left them with a balance of about $60,000,000. 

These numbers come from an Associated Press story that appeared in the LA Times under the headline, Exclusive: Black Lives Matters opens up about its finances, which was published last February, a variation of which all sorts of media outlets have used for their coverage. 

I'm probably missing something, but the article's point seems to be that factions within the organization have turned on each other and the money doesn't seem to be flowing downhill, and not much about how the money was/is actually spent.  

 

{So what did happen last summer? 2020 is ancient history. Where did all the mostly peaceful protestors go? After all, systemic racism is still a thing.}

I don't know.     

I googled the question, what happened to Black Lives Matter in 2021? Try it yourself. If I had to give an answer I'd say the movement is now a mostly virtual/social media phenomenon. Protests are relatively small, relatively rare, and mostly peaceful.

The BLM website itself now appears to be primarily just another focused news aggregation site. But you can buy $30 t-shirts and 3"x3" BLACK LIVES MATTER stickers for two bucks each by clicking on the SHOP link.    

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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Build Back Better, Baby!

Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay 

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.   

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in an intersectional meltdown. Intended for H. sapiens who are — in the words of the late, great bon vivant, polymath, and pic-a-nic basket expert, Professor Y. Bear — "Smarter than the av-er-age bear." 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

“A billion here, a billion there, and pretty soon you're talking real money."

                                                               -William McKinley Dirkson

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grand Stickies (and Gentlereaders),

It's official. We're about to begin building back better, baby. 

Hardly able to contain my excitement, I've done a bit of research to ascertain exactly what's in the Investing in a New Vision for the Environment and Surface Transportation in America Act, a.k.a. the INVEST in America Act, a.k.a. the Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill — and how much it's going to cost.  

Enough googlin' to give me a headache and induce significant eye strain revealed that recruiting a handful of members from the other team now makes a bill a bipartisan effort and the total cost is $1,200,000,000,000... or $1,000,000,000,000, depending on which news outlet you follow. 

{You're so picky, what difference does a mere 200 billion bucks make?}  

I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'm detail-oriented by nature, and I know that most of America's news and information outlets are demonstrably objective and fact-obsessed by definition. But there are some bad actors out there operating within/promoting an ideological narrative. 

And since the actual cost is only $550,000,000,000...

{Wait, wait, wait. Where did you come up with that number, and those names now that I think of it? This bill isn't called the Build Back Better Act?}

Nope, that's the other one. 

{The other one?}

Yeah, the one that has a little something for almost everyone, Uncle Joe's way of saying Merry Christmas happy holidays America. The one that was supposed to cost $3,500,000,000,000 but has been scaled back to $1,750,000,000,000 (more or less, the log rolling continues apace.) 

{Log rolling?}

Follow the link for the etymology but suffice it to say that, you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, tells you almost everything you need to know. 

{Almost?}

Yeah, spending $1,750,000,000,000 over 4 or 5 years is the same as spending $3,500,000,000,000 over 10 years, but that doesn't mean they'll get away with it that's what will happen since what will actually be in that bill is in flux.

{Hmmm... Wait, slow down, Sparky, did you say that the, uh, Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill, the one that's actually been passed, is only going to cost 550 billion? Why is everyone saying it costs a trillion, or 1.2 trillion, or...}

Well, those who support it think bigger sounds better. Those who opposed it think bigger makes it sound worse. Bottom line, the 550 billion I mentioned is new spending. The Fedrl Gummit already has $650,000,000,000 in infrastructure spending scheduled.   

{Wow, that's a bunch of billions, another $550 billion should really have an impact...of course, people will be bitchin' about all the construction delays.}

Maybe, maybe not. See, there's infrastructure, and then there's infrastructure. 

While the 2,700-page bill includes $110 billion in new spending for roads and bridges, the other $340 billion includes spending for all sorts of things that may or may not be considered infrastructure, depending on your perspective.

For example, $66,000,000,000 for railroad maintenance and modernization, most of which will go to Amtrak, Uncle Sam's railroad. Created in 1971, it's been losing money for 50 years. Without subsidies, it would've ceased to exist decades ago.

Solution? Expansion. Expand service to more cities, so more of us, can take a train rather than drive, fly, or take a bus. Picture this:

You roll out of bed, kiss your snificant other goodbye, and carry your suitcase out to your gummit subsidized Tesla ($7,500 subsidy). You wave to the kids on the corner waiting for their new electric school bus ($7,500,000,000). 

On the way to the train station, you stop at one of the new gummit built charging stations ($7,500,000,000) to top off your batteries and pick up a complicated coffee concoction from the Starbucks next door.  

Before proceeding, you access your trusty iPhone and ask Siri to get to you the train station while avoiding any highways that no longer exist due to racial injustice remediation ($1,000,000,000).

{You made that last one up, stirring the pot again?}  

Nuh-uh. Follow the link, Uncle Joe wanted to spend lots more but only $1 billion made it into the bill.

I adopt my portentous newsreader voice:

In other news, The Fedrl Gummit continues to operate under a "continuing resolution" that suspends the debt limit and pays the bills only till December third unless a budget is passed, or more likely, yet another continuing resolution.

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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