Yesterday it was raining and the temperature actually dropped into the upper 40’s. In June. There is actually a slight chance of us having a Nor’Easter on Friday. Oh, crazy New England weather, don’t ever change. Honestly, I still prefer you to baking in the humid Southern sun.
And speaking of insanity and bad weather, we are supposed to have a bad hurricane season this year. That wouldn’t be quite as troubling except that the current occupant of the White House has not yet put anyone in charge of NOAA, FEMA, or the NHC.* He can, however, find the time to go play a lot of golf and to tweet all sorts of crazy stuff. Needless to say, people in hurricane-prone places like Florida are starting to notice.
It’s been a while since I have written anything about Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire. I have been struggling to figure out what to talk about. Then the other day Kelly and I were talking, and it occurred to me that Donald Trump and Cersei Lannister actually have quite a bit in common.
Well. It has been a long time since I have posted anything political. And that is because frankly, it has been just too depressing a topic to really talk about lately, particularly when I try to put it all in historical perspective, which is what I do – after all, I am a historian.
Not to be too dramatic, but I am really, really worried.
Today I’m flying back to Boston from Dallas. As a matter of fact, as I write this I’m on the plane and we’re heading from the gate to the runway. I was surprised on my way down here how dramatic my process with the TSA wasn’t. The TSA is pretty much my nightmare of a government agency.
Today, when I went to my screening to leave Dallas, I lived my nightmare.
After the post I wrote most recently and some discussions I’ve had with people in various parts of my life, I’ve run across a fair number of people who seem to think that this schedule I’ve been living, this logging of 60-70 hours of work a week, minimum, is fun. That I do it because I like it and that somehow I’m not aware that it is inherently bad for me.
They are so, SO very wrong. But they refuse to understand that this has been a matter of survival. This has been the way that I’ve adapted to keep us afloat and alive and not living on the streets. So few people truly understand that our economy here in the US has fundamentally changed. Geoff and I are living proof that the old way, each having one job, having some security in that job, buying a house, and then eventually retiring just isn’t the way things work anymore.
Poor Basil. He has suffered immensely this winter. Still, our Mini Cooper has, like us, managed to survive this record-breaking winter and has been buried in snow more times than I can recall. At least digging him out isn’t so bad most of the time since he is so small. And it certainly makes it easier to park in narrow spots nestled between snow piles.
But getting through this winter unscathed was not meant to be, I guess. Last night, on Route 99 where it goes under Rutherford Ave in Charlestown, we hit what was probably the biggest pothole I have ever seen, at least on a road that wasn’t being washed out underneath.