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Posts Tagged ‘Friends’

Dear Mr. Trump,

Americans have been making their choices in droves via early voting and absentee ballots.

Tuesday is Election Day (even though we may not have an answer that day).

I won’t be voting that day. Eddie and I chose the absentee route for two reasons:

  1. I believe scientists that the Coronavirus is real and not a hoax perpetrated by the Democratic Party. (I mean, REALLY? A U.S. party is going to get the whole world in on a hoax? To what end?)
  2. Hence, I want to limit potential exposure by not putting myself in close contact with people I don’t know.

I’ve had in-depth conversations with two long-time friends who support you. One was a rational, calm conversation where we agreed more than we disagreed. One was … not like that at all.

I understand your allure even less than I did in 2016.

And I am regularly amused/outraged/appalled at the emails I get from your campaign. (I’m on your list thanks to an event I attended.)

This is the article that examines presidential laziness.

Here’s my response to some slogans you and your supporters use.

“Make America Great Again”
I thought America was pretty great pre-2016.

“Keep America Great”
Sorry, but America is not great at the moment. I am NOT better off than I was four years ago. I’m middle class and paying WAY more taxes. The industry in which I work has been negatively affected by your xenophobic policies. And as someone who travels, I can tell you that America is an international embarrassment.

“Life begins at conception”
Fantastic! So that means you’ll protect women endangered by a pregnancy, the children after they are born, old people who might get COVID-19, poor people, immigrants and people on death row. Right? Pro-life means that you support all lives.

“My body, my choice”
This one makes my head explode as it has been co-opted for the anti-mask movement. If you want personal autonomy, great. I’m all for that. But you can’t pick and choose. (See above.)

“Drain the Swamp”
Eeesh. Washington, D.C., is now the swampiest swamp ever.

It should come as no surprise that I will not be voting for you. This is not to say I haven’t voted Republican in the past, and wouldn’t do so again if he/she were the right person.

But you are not the right person.

And the Republican Party is not the Republican Party of old. You know, the one that wanted a smaller government, fiscal responsibility, personal autonomy, etc.

I care about LBGTQIA rights, universal healthcare, eradicating systemic racism, reducing the deficit, upholding personal choice, maintaining separation of church and state — all those things that you are against.

So I’m not wishing you luck on Tuesday.

And I hope you’ll take McConnell and Graham with you.

Frigid regards,
Beth

 

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Dear Helios,

Thanks for giving us one good day at the beach. We needed it after our annual trip turned into a nomadic search for reliable Wi-Fi in the age of ‘Rona ‘Rona.

(Thank you to Patrick/Petra, Tammy and Sharon for letting us park in your homes when the beach Wi-Fi would only allow us to connect my iPad and the Roku.)

Saturday became our hassle-free day. I only had to worry about keeping my foot elevated.

Dominic and Gideon only concerned themselves with how deep they wanted to dig a hole.

Eddie only bothered with taking photos of said hole.

Back story: For whatever reason, the boys love to dig a hole in the sand every time we go to the beach. I don’t know why.

But people act like they’ve never seen a hole. Not a single person passed without commenting.

Granted, it was quite an impressive dig.

Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to blend the tan stripes on my stomach that I got from tubing. (You know: When I got stuck outside of the tube and wiped off all the sunscreen trying to wriggle back into it.)

I was taking a nap when the family started badgering me to get under the umbrella. They started calling me names (“Whitey”) and reminding me of that one time.

It was hurtful.

Me to Eddie: Why can’t I be a bronzed goddess?

Eddie: You can be a vanilla goddess.

So I did retreat to shade, but not before checking the hole.

During the GREAT DIG, Eddie and I savored some adult beverages.

Me to Eddie: What are we doing about dinner?

Eddie: I don’t know. What do you want to do?

Me: I want to go to Crab Shack.

Eddie: But we’ll have to drive.

Me: We can take Lyft.

Eddie: No, wait: WE HAVE A DESIGNATED DRIVER!

(We both look at Dominic in the hole.)

There was much rejoicing.

Anyway, thanks for giving us a sunny, mild day.

Hope you’ll be around the next time we plan a family trip.

With appreciation,

Beth

*I got into the Disney vault for that.

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Dear Trina,

Thanks for coming by to chat Monday. You brought your drum and rattle for your morning meditation. Cool, cool, cool.

Anyone else, I’d probably roll my eyes.

But not you.

You said you took your recent trip to South Dakota because Crazy Horse called you there.

Yep, sounds about right.

And now you are moving there to be a healer.

Of course.

Goat-yoga Lisa and I had a short convo about you yesterday. We said the same thing: If it were anyone else, it would be complete bullshit.

But anyone who knows you knows this makes perfect sense. It just does.

I can’t explain it, but I support you, believe in you, and love you.

Good luck on your journey, have a safe trip, and I hope to see you soon.

Love,
Beth

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Dear Rod,

Thank you for your life’s work: raising awareness of colon cancer. Because of you, I listened when my doctor said it was time for a colonoscopy.

No one ever has good things to say about them. Certainly not Eddie, who complained his way through the fluid you have to drink before the procedure.

But it had to be done.

Add flavor packet. Fill with water. Drink all of it. Stay close to the bathroom.

But you know me: I like to enjoy myself.

I’m bougie.

It did not taste bad at all. It was like a weak lemon-lime Gatorade.

Anyway, it had the required result.

I went to see the doctor clean as a whistle. The nurse got me ready, said one thing to me, I felt tingly, then woke up back where I started.

Easy peasy.

I’m completely healthy and won’t have to go through the procedure for 10 more years.

But thanks to you, I know I’m good.

Miss you,
Beth

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Dear Outraged Women on Facebook,

Last night’s entertainment for me was getting into it with you over “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” vs. “WAP.”

🙄

Our mutual FB friend A– is a pot stirrer. She loves to post things that get people going. I don’t often take the bait. But I couldn’t pass up the chance with this post.

I’m sure “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” was fine in 1944. And yes, the lyric “What’s in this drink?” is a joke from the time.

However, in the light of modern day, the song seems creepy. (I prefer the Legend/Clarkson reimagining.)

Enter “WAP.”

I like the song. (Maybe not blasted at our Airbnb, though.)

Men have been singing about sex and what they want for ages. Why can’t women?

To me, it’s a strong female song: She knows what she wants and wants to get it. Also — and this is key — it’s consensual sex. No assault/date rape overtones like the other song.

Well.

You would have thought I suggested that I play it on a speaker at Disney World and twerk on Mickey himself. Let me remind you of the exchange:

And R—–, your kids may have “clesn and lure” thoughts, but I guarantee you that they will not always have “clean and pure” ones, if that’s what you are seeking.

As it has been people on the political right who are wound up about stations not playing “Baby … ” and also upset about “WAP,” I’m going to make an assumption of my own:

You voted for Trump, didn’t you? Mr. Grab Them by the P—-.

So certain vulgar things don’t seem to bother you at all.

Got it.

Also, speaking of Disney, if your wholesome sensibilities are offended by that, you should not watch the Disney parody video.

Anyway, thanks for the evening’s recreation.

Good luck with your mental gymnastics — and keeping your kids safe from anything “perverted.”

Regards,
Beth

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Dear Tony, Spike, Ulysses, Rolfe, Verna and friends,

I found out this week that you likely will be leaving me soon to go to Mexico.

That makes me sad, but I understand. You have places to go and other people to see.

I know I’ll see you in the spring.

I’ll miss you. I’ll leave the feeder up just in case anyone still around needs a snack. (Suddenly I’m thinking of that Motel 6 commercial.)

Thanks for visiting.

Your friend,
Beth

* Thanks to Dale Evans and Roy Rogers.

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There are only two industries that call their customers ‘users’: illegal drugs and software.
Edward Tufte

Dear Jeff Orlowski,

Thanks for directing “The Social Dilemma” for Netflix. A number of friends told me to watch, so I did.

It’s a fascinating and thought-provoking look at how tech companies manipulate people for profit. Also, we are conditioned by society (i.e., watching others) to want to be part of these platforms (hey, Social Learning Theory!).

DUH.

We live in a capitalist society. We are all potential consumers. Social media algorithms are no different (to me) than companies choosing which radio, television and newspaper ads to place based on user data gleaned from Nielsen/Arbitron ratings and subscriber information.

One of the underpinning theories for my journalism and mass communications dissertation was Herman and Chomsky’s Propaganda Model (1988). Media manipulation is a peaceful way for those in power to maintain the status quo.

Their recommendation for scooting out from under control? Get your information from many sources.

DUH. AGAIN.

It’s personal responsibility. Critical thinking.

You don’t want to be addicted or manipulated? Then employ your critical-thinking skills. Put your phone away one in a while. And beware the filter bubble.

Maybe I’m just super cynical. Critical. Suspicious. Typical Gen X.

I’m also someone who has been trained to look at all sides of an issue, thanks to my reporter background.

In the documentary, Sandy Parakilas, senior product marketing manager at (formerly with Uber and Facebook), said:

“(There are) biases toward false information … the truth is boring.“

One more time: DUH.

In news, we have a phrase for that: “If it bleeds, it leads.”

That’s because — by its very nature — news is an anomaly. You don’t cover the planes that land.

And the more unbelievable, horrible and salacious something is, the more interesting it is. It’s human nature to swivel your head when you pass a car crash.

 

So, to me, there’s nothing new here.

Plus, your documentary is as manipulative as the social media it criticizes.

The irony is not lost on me that it was created for a streaming service that tracks user engagement and supplies content based on history.

The doom-and-gloom soundtrack helps instill that sense of dread.

And I love how the tech folks interviewed have all made their money and now suddenly have developed a conscience.

One of the main interviewees, Tristan Harris, might be worth up to $5 million.

Huh.

Interesting.

That doesn’t make your documentary any less compelling. It just means I had a chance to practice what I preach.

Keep up the good work!
Beth

 

 

 

 

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Dear Eddie,

Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.

Yikes.

One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”

Yeah. What she said.

The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.

I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.

It can be summed up in two photos:

This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.

Clearly the same sense of humor.

In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.

We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.

Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.

Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.

In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.

Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.

We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.

Your face says it all.

Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!

Happy anniversary!

Love,
Beth

*Thanks, Paul Simon.

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Dear Dominic,

Sometimes I forget how great you are and how well we get along. (Having to bark at remind you to take out the trash and recycling takes its toll on both of us.)

But as we were leaving our place this morning to head to Savannah, I saw you at your best.

Wee morning hours are not great for me. It’s my own fault: We needed to get to the McKinnons’ house before all my Zoom meetings began.

As I was trying to get my watch charger in the dark, I whacked my forehead on the nightstand.

I was still rubbing my head when I told you it was time to go.

You saw the lump that had formed immediately.

You: What happened to you?
Me: I banged my head on the nightstand.
You: Come here. (Gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead.)
Me: Did you just kiss my boo-boo?
You: That’s the treatment!

That was very sweet.

But then later when I took the ice pack off, you went back to normal.

Me: How do I look?
You: Like Voorhees.

Thanks so much.

Sigh.

Love you anyway,
Mama

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Dear People in the Condo Building:

I’m truly fascinated by your lives. Every time I go to our place to clean for a new guest or just hang out, there’s something going on.

It’s very “Rear Window.”

I’m here today because I have so much work to do, and I needed peace (read: time away from Dominic complaining about the Wi-Fi).

It’s a nice day, so I’m on the balcony. I’m worried about getting a contact high from the clouds of chronic. (New building name: Chronic Condo. Or THC Towers. Or High House.)

The last time I was here to get work done, I got to party with Cardi B, along with everyone else on their balconies.

One time, I was having a girls’ night with my friend Becky (with the good hair).

Some guys two floors down and two balconies over saw us.

Dude 1: Hey Ladies!
Dude 2: You with the hair!
Dude 3: We’ve got weed. Come on down!

Becky and I are middle-aged women. We are not going to party with random guys — in a pandemic, no less.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t weirdly flattered.

Anyway, thanks for providing plenty of entertainment.

Love,
Beth

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