At Least They're Committed

There is a Lot to talk about these days.

Another REM song now pops into mind, ♪♪♪ It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.♪♪♪ That’s not entirely accurate I suppose. I’m probably not fine. I’m just at a loss for understanding the depth of depravity in the United States in that they would re-elect a traitorous, 34-count federal convict and sexual deviant who is racist, xenophobic and just an all-out fucking idiot.

But it’s a good lesson. I now understand that I live among a misogynistic, bigoted, treacherous piece of shit population. I should never have given the bulk of humans the benefit of the doubt. And praying for their wretched souls doesn’t seem to help. So . . .

Thy will be done.

Sure, I’d leave the country. Set up elsewhere. Retire. But I have grandchildren here, ya know? And I love them and so I’ll stay and fight. But in the meantime — until that battle reaches my and my family’s doorsteps — I’m just going to sit back and watch the fireworks. Watch the world burn. Or at least the ridiculous, ignorant fucks within it because I certainly hope that Earth survives after humanity has destroyed itself.

♪♪♪ I made a pilgrimage to save this human race, never comprehending the race had long gone by.♪♪♪ (Modern English)

See how much I’m learning, Gabriel? It’s not that my prayers haven’t been answered, they have. It’s just a big fat, “No” for some of the things I’m praying for — like humanity.

I’m so happy for Ellen. She doesn’t have to be here anymore! I think you guys showed her what was to come and gave her the choice and she definitely made the right choice.

The good news, twice over, is that the house has sold and we’re absolutely thrilled about the family who is moving in. They are precisely what I had hoped for — people who know what it is like to thrive in adversity. I won’t go beyond that because as Aslan says, it’s their story and not mine. But I can say they’re not your generic white-ass, Trump-lovin’ family.

I can also say fixing the house up and selling it was a good lesson. Our realtor was very helpful and patient, but the process is dreadful. We spent $60,000 (yes, that is more than I make in one year) between modernizing to make the house happy, upgrades because people viewing the house were so critical and wretched and, finally, the inspection resolution requirements.

After three months, hundreds of hours of painting enlisting the help of my son and son-in-law, and paying the home’s mortgage for two months while it was on the market, we probably cleared $20,000 over what we would have gotten if we’d gone to one of those places that pay you $100,000 less than it’s value with the house as-is.

Not doing that again! But, as I told myself when I got lost in London, the only way it could be worse is if I hadn’t experienced it and wondered the rest of my life if I should have done something different.

I came to the conclusion that I make bad decisions. I used to think the saying “The road to hell is paved with good intentions” was about people who think they’ll do something good but then never get around to it. Now I understand that in my case it’s about thinking you’re doing the right thing and botching things up badly.

Thus, although I do believe we’ll be moving up to the ranch in five or six years, I’m leaving that entirely up to D. He doesn’t like making decisions, but in the same vein as losing all love for this country and it’s people, I am bowing out.

A Lot is going to happen in the coming years. And if my family and I are allowed to leave as Sodom and Gomorrah burns, I won’t be looking back. And who knows, holding tight to what loved ones are left, maybe I’ll smile just a bit and laugh a Lot.