Mike Nettleton
I've been mulling over what I wanted to address in my next blog. Several topics came to mind, including:
Eating Tablespoons of Ice Cream Over the Sink--A lost art form.
Only days until Donald Trump is inaugurated: What were we thinking?
Recognizing and controlling your personal dark side.
A tribute to the late Jimmy Carter.
Various and sundry mind droppings.
What would Captain Curmudgeon (my alter ego) do? In my own confident (but not swaggering) inimitable (today's page from my word-of-the-day calendar) forthrightly decisive style I've picked . . . (the dots denote thinking)
All of them. Yeah, that's the ticket! I'll write about all of them. Whew !!! I'm glad that's over.
YOU ARROGANT PRICK!!!
My own angry voice echoed back at me in the high-domed expanse of an indoor community swimming pool. The occasion? A flailing, head-down lap swimmer had once again failed to stay in his lane and had thumped me alongside the head with his forearm. To add insult to injury he growled "You should do your stuff in the shallow water!!!"
YOU ARROGANT PRICK!!!
The words were out of my mouth before I could think about the consequences. Like, for instance, the chance he could hop out of the water and beat me to death with one of his swim fins. Worse yet, with one singular move I had destroyed my reputation as a smiling, mellow, considerate (and rakishly handsome) senior citizen who wouldn't harm a fly. With the events of the past few days, a zealot mowing down innocent pedestrians in New Orleans and a demented man blowing up a Tesla in front of Trump Towers in New York, the realization hit me: the potential for anger and violence lies buried in all of us. With some it's very close to the surface. I vow to keep a cap on my temper. And to avoid public places where large numbers of people gather. Maybe, the next time I'm clubbed by an out-of-control swimmer I'll yell:
ENJOY YOUR SWIM !!!
Onward. As witnessed by the previous segment, I've never been very good at impulse control. Vowing to eat wisely is a New Year's resolution that is dead in the water before its toes even leave the diving board.
I've dieted. I've lost weight. (and regained it rapidly) I work out 5-6 days a week and try to eat kale salads prepared by my loving and concerned wife. And still, I carry an extra 30-40 pounds around. I can blame unfortunate metabolism, stress (I really don't have much) or Republican politicians, but the truth of the matter is, I'm weak. I am, therefore I snack. And the ultimate, most soul-satisfying form of snacking is eating a heaping tablespoon of good ice cream over the sink. Let's face it. the 8-year-old kid who learned how to make people laugh to deflect from his tubbiness is now a 76-year-old curmudgeon who still tries to use laughter to keep bystanders from looking too carefully at his body.
Back on the blog-o-cycle:
My theory is that a superior race of outer-space aliens with a sick sense of humor and a mind-melting ray gun zapped us on election day. There's no other rational explanation. How any woman (review the things Trump has said about and done to women) person of color, descendant of immigrants (pretty much all of us) or organism with even a flutter of brain function could have voted for this guy, defies any kind of logic. It's like the American people are the submissives in a gigantic S and M for hire scenario and we're chanting in unison, "Beat me, hurt me, make me write bad checks." Okay, so I've vented. At least I didn't yell: YOU ARROGANT PRICK!!! in the direction of Mar-a-Lago. I wouldn't want the others in the gene pool thinking poorly of me.
Jimmy Carter. Sad to hear of his passing. Jimmy Carter lived a long and admirable life. No American president has been more wrongly bad-mouthed by the political right than Jimmy. While in office, he lobbied for peace, helped promote legislation that benefited the common man, and behaved in a kind and noble way. After leaving office, he continued to work to help the less fortunate. Contrast this with the Republican greed-is-good proponents who followed him and it's clear he will stand the test of time as a great American. Plus, his brother Billy was vastly entertaining in a drunken, drooling, mumbling kind of way.
We'll survive 4 years of Tonald Drump. And in my travels to different parts of the world I will continue to apologize for what we've done. With any luck, I'll live long enough to see a sane person ascend to the presidency.
Thank you for forgiving my outburst. And thank you in advance for being kind and caring. It's a quality we need a whole lot more of. Perhaps some of it will leak toward Washington D.C.
