House Rich

... or why its getting weirder in America ...

Almost 17 years ago, my wife and I moved our family into a larger house in a new neighborhood.  We needed the space desperately to avoid the appearance of hoarding.  Although if I'd known the commercial appeal that 'real life' hoarding stories would one day generate, maybe we'd of stayed and gotten rich by being the pack rats we (seemingly) are.

But let me not digress.  This piece is about that larger house and the neighborhood around it.  A nice place, don't you know.

When we moved in, it was a place full of people mixing across a large swath of the economy, from the LA wealthy to the LA poor(-ish), and all between.  There were long-time resident ethno-cultural groups here cheek by jowl with the usual SoCal majority mix of whites/Hispanics.  Streets were lined with mom-and-pop one-off shops and independent restaurants among the car body shops and senior living complexes. An interesting place to live. Not splashy, but comfy.

During the big housing bubble prices for homes in the area became expensive out of proportion to any real value, but hey, the banks were giving away jumbo loans at 0 down.  In much of the outlying areas of LA, the Great Home Ownership Rush was On.  In my neighborhood it was there, but more subdued since the people who already lived there weren't in the mood to sell, and not much new was being built.  Besides, if we sold, where would we move?  We liked it where we were.

Then the bubble burst and everywhere you looked house prices were dropping like those Turkey's in WKRP's Thanksgiving Giveaway.  They dropped where I live too, but not as much.

And now, 8 years after that bubble burst, with other areas still recovering, LA housing prices have been rising with a bullet, nowhere more so than in my neighborhood.  They now stand at triple (or more) the price they fetched 17 years ago, beyond even the crazy highs of the bubble.  This extreme rise in value has led some locals to finally sell-up, grab the profit, and move to cheaper climes and buy a retirement mansion.  Good for them, I would say, only the people who are buying up and moving in are not the same kinds of people as those leaving, so the personality of the neighborhood is changing.

And how could it not? People who can afford to pay 1 million and up for homes that were half that 10 years ago are not like me - and probably not like you. They are Rich.  Not billionaires, but certainly millionaires, multiply so.  Either that, or they are far more skilled in managing their money than the average American, sadly including me.

I don't know exactly where they are coming from; another part of LA, refugees from even higher prices in the San Francisco Bay Area, or hillbillies who struck Texas Tea, Black Gold, Oil that is!

Wherever they are coming from they are changing the place.  Everywhere you look long-time businesses are closing and trendy, hip places are opening up, in chase of the money they just know is there.  Sometimes they close too, and another trendy spot takes its place. It's like America has acquired ADHD, or at least a shortening attention span.

Ok, I'll admit, I can't directly tie the rapid increase in house prices (and apartment rents) and their new richey owners to the change in businesses, but hey its a pattern that LA has seen elsewhere.  Like  that nice place I used to live with my family in the too-small house I sold to to get into the bigger house.  That older place is even trendier and hipper now.

People who held on there and here, and have not sold into this booming market, really like where they live and don't want to leave. But these places are changing around them into something increasingly unrecognizable and weird.

Whether we, the residents of those places where a rising tide of incredible (and to me inscrutable) affluence is leaving us as beachcomber's on a strange shore, can adapt and love the new normal, is a question without any clear answer.   I plan to stay until every other restaurant is trendy-casual and all burgers are gourmet, and/or until Home Owners Associations rear their intrusive, ugly heads. Even then I'll probably stay, since, like I said, it's a nice place.

Loss and Love

or, why darkness never completely extinguishes light

 It's a common belief that bad things happen to good people.  Or that the good die young. But that's not really accurate.

These things are thought because when good people have misfortune or die, others take more notice.  Because they were good.  The passing of good through the world leaves a wake.

The wife of a social media friend of mine recently passed away after a tenacious battle with pancreatic cancer.  If you don't  know about that kind of cancer consider yourself lucky.  It's a King Kong Bitch of a disease.

Because my friend is a friend through the world wide web and I've never actually met him, I also never met his wife.  I only knew her through his occasional mentions.  But I could tell much from those scraps.

I could tell she was loved, and loving.  I could tell she was smart. And I could tell she shared much of my friend's passions in life.

What I couldn't tell and didn't know was that she was sick, and sick with such a terrible form of cancer.

Just yesterday my friend told his friends at our communal forum that she had passed away.  He gave the news in the context of participation in our shared passion of motorcycle racing.  You see, his wife was the best of us in the game of predicting who might win, and the finishing order of the runners-up.  In fact, she was a whiz at it.

In his telling, he mentioned also what she'd meant to him; how she had supported him in his own racing and moto-interests for decades.  How she was strong; a fighter.

He mentioned the hole her passing had created and how he and his family were trying to pull it together and get on with life.

That's a hard ask, even if the grief may be tinged (as it often is in cases of prolonged cancer) with some relief at the ending of a loved one's ordeal.  But it's an ask that is answerable, because although good people may leave a gap when they die, their cumulative good effects on others over the years remain undiminished; the benefits reaped from knowing then still vital.

So, a good person's progress through life was stopped by a merciless cancer.  But her memory and her goodness will carry on with my friend and his family.  In this temporary darkness they now experience the light she bequeathed them will shine and lead the way out.

That's the enduring promise of Love. That it will not be diminished by Loss.  And why where there is Love there is never true darkness.

Rest in Peace

Tee'd Off

or, how I learned to fear golf as much as the Bomb ...

Back in the good old days of normally devious and corrupt politics, the cast of characters were just as chock full 'o nuts as our current crop, they were just a bit smoother and subtler.  Most of the time.

Richard Nixon famously wanted his 'enemies' to think he was a Madman.  He figured if they believed he was unstable they wouldn't push him (or America) too far, and they might fear him enough to let him (and American interests) push farther.

Now, we have a President who may actually be crazy.  There's no public face of stability with a covert Nixonian 'leak' pointing to secret madness, there is just plain nuttiness while publicly speaking or tweeting.  It would be comforting to think this was as much a ploy as Nixon's, but sadly the chance is nil.

Trump has a fine form of natural looniness that would be charming if he could turn it off when things got serious. It was in fact kind of entertaining when he was just reality show realtor magnate Trump. For many of his core base, it was what made them fall in love with candidate Trump.  It's not so entertaining now, since its so clear that his inherent crazy is an always-on never off state of being.

Faced with serious issues that could literally cost millions of lives, our President's behavior isn't a benefit.  Even Nixon would probably agree with that.

So now we get to stand by and watch our President tweet threats from the golf course. That's truly Mad ...

The Last Time I Saw Paris

... it was underwater

OK, only partly, but the flooding was severe.  And, OK, I wasn't actually there, I saw it on TV.  But it was very wet.

Point is, the weather has been crazy these past few (or dozen) years.  Surely you've noticed right where you live, even if you don't watch the Weather Channel like a Class 5 was barreling down on you.

But, back to Paris.  That city is on the radar this week 'cause that is where the Climate Accords were forged.  Those same Accords that Dear Old President Trump just axed.

Now, if you are an environment loving kind of guy, like me, who once wished he could be a combination of Charles Darwin and Jacques Yves Cousteau (with a little Lloyd Bridges as Mike Nelson thrown in), this dissing by Trump of the World's best effort (since the Kyoto Protocol was ignored by another Republican President) really sucks.

If you think of money before most else, then you might think what the President did is a good thing.  After all, cleaning up current and preventing future messes takes time and money, and is not nearly as much fun (or as profitable) as making those messes in the first place.

Or maybe you are someone who believes that God made everything we see for the sole purpose of supporting mankind, and we can do whatever we damn well please with it.  And, anyway (you might say), if it gets bad enough God will rescue us.  No need to lift a finger ourselves.

If you are the latter type, I guess you never had a Mother who taught you 'God helps those who help themselves'.

Whatever you may find as a reason for supporting the lack of support Trump gave the Paris Accords, I must tell you that you are being unreasonable.  Trump's told you it was a 'bad deal' for the USA.  Apparently we had commitments (as one of the World's top two creators of greenhouse gases) that were tougher than some other countries.

Well, forgetting for a moment that the US negotiators thought those were reasonable at the time, there is nothing in the Accords to force a country to abide by its commitments - the country can always change the terms if the circumstances change.  Trump could have kept us in the Accord and negotiated a different commitment, but, no, he had to throw this particular baby out with the bathwater.

Don't believe we could have stayed in and changed the terms?  OK then, check this:  although Trump stated the USA was quitting the agreement, we can't legally pull out until nearly 2020.  During that time Trump and his government will do absolutely nothing to comply with any of the terms - because he can, and could do even if still in the deal.

So, pulling out was just making a political point of keeping a campaign promise, and maybe also of thumbing his nose at the Europeans who were mean to him during his recent trip.

But here's the deal, and its where those Paris floods come back in again.

The crazy weather doesn't wait.  Every day we pump out the crap into the air and water, the more extreme and unpredictable the weather will become.  And, it takes time for anything we do to make a positive change.  So, if we were to cut emissions tomorrow, the improvements might not be seen for 5, 10, or even 20 years.  It's not like we can wait until the last minute and then save the World.  Basically, the 'Last Minute' is nearly here, and we are about to miss it.

Those Paris Accords were a visible sign that all countries on Earth were in this together and would work together.  It was a handshake. A Gentleman's Agreement.

And our President just cut out its heart.

Accepting the Unacceptable

'Grin and bear it' doesn't really help ...

It is not easy to parse the World in which we wobble through a second decade of the 21st Century.  Nothing quite seems to make sense.  Not logically, not practically, and not even by the measure 'common sense'.

In fact, senses seem to have been taken leave of, for many people.  At least I assume they are people and not replicants strategically placed by evil aliens to disrupt our society and increase sales of antidepressants and premium scotch.

I think I might need both of those 'treatments' as I read (or hear, or watch) not-so-fake news every single day about the clown team in DC and their Big Bozo rambling destructively about like the Three Stooges on cocaine.

Then there's the former giant communist empire being resurrected as fully and as quickly as possible by that Happy Topless Horseman, Vladdy, who just so happens to have possibly, probably influenced our elections to help get Bozy in.  With Bozy's team possibly, probably helping from the inside.

The replicants say it is not so.  That Bozy is not in Vladdy's pocket.  But hell,  there is so much smoke you can't see the damn fire. Something's burning, and it just might be the constitution.

But what can a poor boy do, ('except work in a rock 'n roll band)?  How do you manage when every attempt to counter each and every insult to our democracy inflicted by the Big Boze is met with howling troops of replicants who don't seem to care what he does?  As he said himself, he could almost literally shoot people on the street and still be supported. At least that's how it appears.

So, here's the gist.  If you aren't a clown on Bozo's team, and aren't a replicant, how do you manage these events?  You have no real influence outside your limited social media circle, hold no powerful elected office, and can't support the effort with the wealth you don't have.  What can you do?

Well, there's the antidepressants and the premium scotch.  But you can also find and give your support to local, state, and national politicians who you feel aren't clowns - or replicants.  You can also try to reprogram replicants you face using kindness and tolerance (the antidepressants and scotch can help you with both).  Or, just work with the replicants on practical things and ignore their crazy clown politics until you can vote their Bozy out of office.

It also helps to turn off the news and avoid your social media from time to time, to rest from the onslaught of Bozo pratfalls.

Hmm ... I guess the Ringling Bros Circus hasn't ended after all, it's just changed venue.

Sudden Attack of Nostalgia

Watching a recent Colbert, a guest recalled a past role where he played an elf named 'Swifty'. For the majority of the viewing audience that didn't rate a second thought.

For me it opened the floodgates of memory.

'Swifty' made me think ... Damon Runyan, and that made me think ... The Lemon Drop Kid, and that made me think of Bob Hope, and then memories of all of the movies he made that I like (and even a few I didn't) came pouring out of my brain's equivalent of a dusty, cluttered closet.

And with those memories came an overwhelming wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

It's the kind of experience we older folks can have that younger types just can't generate.  They haven't lived long enough.  This is one of the few nice things about getting older.

But as I mentioned, these thoughts are bitter as well as sweet, because the things we remember are gone - often long gone, and their like will never return.

The feeling that ensues is sometimes an odd, off-kilter one.  It can make me feel dizzy and disconnected with the present.  But only for a moment.

The wave of triggered nostalgia fades and the present resumes its rightful prominence.  For a moment, though, you are suddenly young again within your old self, seeing the world again with youthful emotions.

For all of you in the same temporal boat, enjoy riding the waves of nostalgia.

Rip Van Wayne-kle

Whoa!

It's already April ... 2017 ...

And not a single post on this page to keep the bots alert.

You can chalk that up to ennui. Or laziness. Both are at least partially true.

Also, distractions of my full-time paying job can get part of the blame too.  That's been there for quite a few years of this blog's history, though.

No, the really real and definitely not fake reason I haven't been posting here is that others have been posting their hearts out on the very same subjects that interest me.  And most of them have been doing it better than I could.

So, I've let them 'speak' for me.

They seem to have the better ability to cut through the shock-induced fog and see the world clearly enough without fear and loathing biasing their POVs.  Not so me.

But I hope this will pass soon.

I began this blog on the run-up to Barack Obama's historic first election.  Naturally, that was the main focus for quite some time.  Over the ensuing years I branched out to indulge my fancy in musings on life, human nature, science, and even some poetry of a sort.

It was meant to be though-provoking to anyone who stopped by to read it, but I really tried to keep it light and inject whatever humor my talent would allow.  I hope I did so with some success, although it was hard when each blog post was done on the spur of the moment and sent out into the world without much review, reflection, and possibly badly-needed editing.

I kept it up for a few years but the pace slowed, eventually to a crawl, and then to this latest somnambulation.

To the maybe one or three people who routinely viewed this blog back in its heyday, I must apologize for letting things fall away.  I promise to try to pick back up someway, somehow.

But it will be difficult. Looking around for ideas these days I have been struggling to find anything to say that can be said with humor.  Colbert, Trevor Noah, SNL, and Samantha Bee do this well and make me laugh enough to hold back the tears, but I can't yet find the spirit to follow their lead. Not even in my micro-blogger way.

So, I am making a promise to visit with you here at least once or twice a month for the rest of this year.  I won't promise that much of it will be humorous, although I do hope it will continue to be thought-provoking.  You can think of it as free group-therapy, if that helps.

See you (or at least the bots) back here soon ...