depression

Things Hard To Understand

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A 90,000 square-foot ball room next to the White House? In these uncertain and unnerving times when the government might be closed and DOGE is slashing budgets? After already paving over the Rose Garden and turning it into a social club for rich people? A reckoning might be coming along the lines of the French Revolution or the Domus Aurea. Ask Ai. Ask about “decadence”, too, while you’re at it.

Income inequality. Period. Aren’t rich people smart enough to know there is only so much “poor” the rest of us can take?

People who don’t want government or taxes. Really, who needs roads, police departments, fire companies, sewer systems. Maybe we can get our cities and towns professional sports teams and stars to fund everything? An outfield “star” for the New York Mets makes more money per year than the entire budget for the upstate NY city I live in. The national “tax” that keeps the NFL and others paying millions to players for a game,…think about it yourself. Don’t make me say it.

Why aren’t firemen, teachers, police men, and even garbage men more respected than Aaron Judge? Or Juan Soto? Should public servants start their own trading cards? Allow betting on how soon a police department might catch a criminal? How much lead is in the water? Vegas will handicap anything, set odds, and offer SGPs galore. Googe it but ignore the first three examples.

Why people don’t know more about history. Because of a long-standing national cognitive crisis, we are doomed to taking one step forward in one generation and then falling two steps backward when the next generation has no idea what the preceding generation did. That is a generic statement that, however, holds true for almost all our current problems. This innate genetic and systemic fragmentation is why we still fight and argue over broken legal systems, immigration, elections, and health care systems, to name a few, after hundreds of years.

Why people don’t realize they are being manipulated? It’s time we all said this about ANY and ALL information suppliers: some of it’s true, some of it isn’t. Letters to the editors and online comments reveal most people think they have the only true source of facts and information, and everyone else is an idiot. This first appeared years ago with the new Fox viewers, but now every political ideology and fringe group has its own information supplier with its own baked-in bias. How long will it take the entire country to realize this and read each different bias and sort out the truth? Hm. That is impossible, so let’s at least admit our favorite sources of news might not be right all the time? And maybe then we can see the ones who purposely try to fool us and lead us by the nose.

The world is an interesting place if you look at it and see it. It’s human nature to let the grind of life wear us down and make us think bad thoughts but remember this is your only shot. Don’t blow it by burying your head in the sand. Look up, look out, and be aware. As the good Doctor Wright once said: “Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm,”

And for good measure: What did the grape say when the elephant sat on it? Nothing. It just let out a little whine. If you get the joke, you’ll be okay.

It’s Been A Bad Year…Thanks, Mr. Wright!

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2025 has not been kind. Yet. It might be though, right? Eventually?

It began well with a great lead in from December: hip replacement surgery ended years of pain, cancer is in remission, and AMD is stopped in its tracks. Great end to 2024 and lead in to “The Next Year.”

Hip recovery went swimmingly but New York’s 2025 weather prohibited a normal “scale-up” of activities. Venturing into winter weather with a new hip was compounded by the worst winter weather in upstate NY in 60 years. Outdoor recreational mobility/recovery was DENIED, even as the maintenance gurus of the apartment complex–the salters, shovelers, skid-steer operators who, bless their hearts—did yeoman’s work scraping out a few minutes a day for safe walking. What exactly is a “yeoman”? Be right back.

Yeoman: “a man holding and cultivating a small, landed, estate” among other things listed in the Oxford Dictionary.  Lots more, too.

Shortened story: stuck inside for months with a good hip and nowhere to go. But I did find an antidote to the malaise 2025 is intent on dropping me into: The wise words of Dr. Steven Wright. (I awarded him an honorary degree.) Dr. Wright told me through the printed collection of his sayings “Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.”

Hm.

Then Trump took office. I made a new year’s resolution not to write about him, but he does so much…how did he get elected? Maybe, per the good doc, “The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese”.  Think about it…

Dr. Wright: “Half the people you know are below average.” What? And an explanation: “82.47% of statistics are made up on the spot.” A concisely contemporary, pure propagation of punditry.

It’s concerning to me that our current political shenanigans don’t make me laugh, anymore. There must have been a very sad, recent shift in my attitude towards our political class. Un-humorous worry is a constant companion. Dr. Wright, help please?

““My mechanic told me, “I can’t repair you brakes so I made your horn louder.”” Note: Double quotation marks are grammatical, not ironic.

Perfect.

As a sidebar, he reminded me: “The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.”

Dr. Wright also helped me understand most of our current politicians, and how they can live with themselves: “A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.”

And for all of loyal, fanatical, know—it—all online Demoncrats and Repugnicans, “A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.”

No more politics. Back to me. New advice?

“The sooner you fall behind, the more time you have to catch up”, he offers.

Okay. I’m better. You?

Remember this, too, “Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.”

And if any of this did not make your day better, here’s consolation in Dr. Wright’s words: “If at first you don’t succeed, destroy all evidence you tried.”

Full disclosure: Steven Wright is not really a doctor, but he should play one on TV.

Next posting we will attempt to answer the age-old Wright question: “What is the speed of dark?”

Contributions and comments welcomed.

Some bad things?

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It is a curse to be self-aware, especially if you don’t know it.

The title refers to things about myself that I don’t notice. They get put in a pile, get forgotten (really: ignored) and then sooner or later, they get addressed. It is later, now.

I don’t really mind other drivers: it’s the yelling at life, I like. You “no-signalling turners” and “stop-at-yield-sign” drivers are not as irritating as you might think. They simply “release the hounds” of profanity. Since it happens in an empty car, with the windows rolled up, there is deniability built in if the other driver chases me down and has a Glock.

Things fall all around me for no reason, making me pick them up. I curse them with the common lament of the persecuted: “Why me?” It does help when other people my age say they feel the same. It doesn’t end the feeling of persecution, though, and I might rather enjoy that, too. (See above paragraph.)

When things are going good for me, I make the mistake of saying out loud a phrase that acts as a trigger and ruins the mood. Can anyone guess what the phrase is? It is the universal wail of the optimist who is skeptical: “Something bad’s gonna happen, soon.”

My life (which is probably at least similar to yours) is comprised of different moods, and I feel like wearing an apology sign for all those who get in my way when I’m in my Bad Mood (BM…please don’t confuse it with doody.) In a BM a slow clerk is the End of the World, and society is coming apart. In a BM the slightest grammatical error, the slightest slight from a public servant, the lack of efficiency of a waitress makes me start planning an underground bunker with lots of frozen pizzas.

But in a Good Mood (GM, no not the car company), those events listed, above, make me smile, and wonder what the future holds for the guilty person. At the grocery store this morning, I used a real person for checkout since there was only one man in front of me with a small order. But when it came time to pay, that’s when he took out his voluminous wallet and started counting out bills, and then change. Oddly, I felt the line growing behind me more than I felt the usual annoyance of being slowed down, AND I felt sorry for the old gentleman. What is happening to me????

Here’s another Bad Thing. I feel so good this morning I wrote a nasty, “let’s end things” text to the woman who screwed me over this past summer. As a good, decent man I had been trying to save a 21 year relationship but suddenly decided to believe–and act on–what my friends liked to say about her: “She is a cruel, selfish bitch.” Oddly, sending the “close the door on all possibility” text made me feel better.

I do not look my age. Two doctors this week, alone, who had not read my file yet, accused me of being “Mid-50 years old”. One last month thought my 50-year-old daughter was my wife. You probably can’t see the problem, so I’ll explain: I look too young for woman my age, but am factually too old for women the age I look like. If you’re married or in a committed relationship you won’t understand. But try and imagine being a 72-year male back on the market, back on the prowl. I tried a dating site for a few days but stopped because it took too long to prove the profile picture was recent. One “lady” (the quotation marks will be explained in the next sentence) asked for a pic of my birth certificate. With hindsight, she was probably a Nigerian Romance Scammer. Maybe I should have just lied and looked for younger women. Imagine, too, a 72 year-old woman being “accosted” by a 55 year old man asking for a date. (No, I have not encountered any Cougars in Upstate NY, they all moved to Florida.)

It’s too bad a GM can’t just be enjoyed. And a BM ignored. But it is much better to be alive and aware, than lost in The Calamities and eternal doom. A close, younger friend just learned he needs a pacemaker. The news saddened me at first, but then the news sidled up next to what the worst could be and life got back to balance for him, and for me as an accessory to the fact.

With all the bad that can happen, balance is heaven.