Getting an IV Drip

 I had to look up whether an IV drip was made for treating a bout of heavy drinking after reading about a singer who drank too heavily on a television show where the host imbibes too much alcohol with his guests. Article Here. It turns out, there are IV bars where people get an IV for having drank too much alcohol or for general health benefits. Article Here.

Fads come and go, you see pictures from 40 or 50 years ago and you don't even notice you were so immersed. I remember bellbottoms and miniskirts. Coming home from college I wore a below knee length skirt which shook up my friends at church. I was going mod on them in an ugly fashion sense. I agreed with everyone that the longer skirt looked strange. At 18, you can have three or four opinions without embarrassment.

I've always been a linear thinker. Oh I have had a few epiphanies. They were far and few between. So I was a bit impressed with this 34 year old Texan named Matt Tunstall who has lived in California for the past three years where he has created two political PACs. The PACs impersonate Trump and draws most of it's donations from retirees. Essentially what money is spent on politics is to create robocalls. Both PACs have collected 3.4 million dollars based on federal filings. And yes, most of the funds are used to pay Matt a generous paycheck. There has also been filings of missing funds. Hmmmm

Needless to say, this guy is living the life of Riley. He tools around Los Angeles in an expensive sports car, wears designer glasses, jewelry and clothes. Calling himself an influencer on Instagram and tik tok, he gives himself credit as an award winning writer and executive producer on LinkedIn. But he basically shams old people into making donations in their devotion to Donald Trump. Then he adds insult to injury in that he uses what he needs to keep the PAC legal? on robocalls tooting different causes of the Trump. CNN article about Tunstall's PAC

Unethical is all I can say to describe him. But you have to admit, he is ingenious in generating all that cash. It will be interesting to find how his future works. I certainly would not want a daughter to marry him. You would know going in, he is shallow money grubber. I've wondered if he will have a "come to Jesus moment" to excuse his manipulation of people for money. Hopefully he will not become a televangelist and really rake in the dough. 

My brother was a Trumper and I am a never Trumper. We agreed on one thing, never send a politician money. 

Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene has raised 3.4 million dollars since her election. Who says talking smack does not pay. She and Matt Gaetz have been traveling the country talking about issues that get some people all riled up. Both have a chance of a snowball in hell of being re-elected. Matt Gaetz may be serving time for having sex with an underage female. (Maybe, his father is very wealthy and it is Florida.) Mountain people who elected Greene don't like looking like fools. There must be about twenty people interested in running for her office. But I think she gets to keep the money. 

I rarely donate to the large charities. I donate locally to the many small non-profits that help people in central Georgia. 

Any way, I don't think I will be getting an IV drip anytime soon. At least I hope not. And my head just swims with the audacity and greed of people sometimes. But this is one retiree they hopefully will never get a dime from. I hope. My mom's mind slips at times, but she still knows how to manage her money.

This is my second great grandfather and family. I think my great grandfather Duard William Bennett is the young man on the horse in the back. 

Slave Labor and Mob Rule

 Hey, I'm talking about Brittney Spears. 

Not these children of migrant cotton field workers from May of 1937. Photo by Dorothea Lange.

I am much too old to appreciate the talents of Brittney Spears. She is beautiful and must be a wonderful performer to garner the fans she has. She's dressed very sexy and is aggressively approaching some defenseless male in an airplane in the one that I watched. I did not finish. I did not watch a second. I doubt I would have watched them as young woman. Maybe. I don't know. As a teacher, I appreciated why we weren't allowed to call boys as a teenager. Girls could be outright pests for some boys and their family with incessant phone calling. I got that vibe from the video.

I'm not the sort of person who becomes a super fan. Although I was very disappointed to discover Sean Connery was the same age as my father. The fact that I never met him or knew what he was like; I was in love with him. But I have felt the same love for Tommy Lee Jones and Hal Ketchum. Just a huge crush that was a bit of fun.

It looks like we are going to see what a mean woman Brittney Spears can be to her father. I have a mentally ill sister living with me. None of them need their meds, just ask them. So getting Brittney off a conservatorship without evaluation is going to be an interesting feat. I mean if she does not have a conservator, does not take meds for her mental illness, and her 58 million disappears does she qualify for medicaid or what?

This has hit me personally in that both of my sisters have squandered a great deal of money denying they have a problem. I've picked up the pieces for both. And both are just as candid on what nasty things they have said about me. So this is where I am with Brittney wanting her father prosecuted. How did she get from 2 and a half million to 58 million in the past 13 years with him stealing her money. She only wants to have a baby and marry her 26 year old boyfriend. Brittany Spear's father may be wrong but I doubt he does not love his daughter.

And these fans, who needs a court system with laws when people can just mob up and protest. Frankly, this protesting is too much in this country.  I remember a teacher I worked with had an argument with her child's high school teacher. I wasn't listening in detail because I was eating and having a break. But I remember her summation. The important thing was she got her way. Her son was a jerk. 

There is a huge distance between social justice and Brittany Spears being a slave.

My question is. Why didn't boyfriend hire her a lawyer? 

Another question is why are we to believe Brittney point blank and not listen to her father side.

Another question is why are people close to her so damn scared. They give the response they support Brittany but they don't broach the topic.

Another question involves an on air personality stating he saw Brittney in a drugged like state and observes maybe she does not need her meds. Meds that treat Bi-polar and Schizophrenia do not make you seem drugged. I do know for Bi-Polars, they love the mania but the depression is hell. So if Brittney was drugged, hmm, why? Which leads to the question, why would an educated person who is untrained feel they can make that recommendation.

Another question, who doesn't have a loving father who would be a pain in the arse running their life. My father who I loved was so controlling it made you miserable at times. I can tell you it is a privilege getting to know your elderly parent like my mother. But, my life is constantly observed, edited, etc. I fell last Monday and reinjured a hurt back, a knee and a wrist. I am sleeping in a lift chair beside my mother. We are more connected than when I was two. It is terrible. 

Another question is why does the general public think that someone that has mental illness is a complete imbecile unable to do anything? Schizophrenics make up 1 percent of the population. Of that one percent, roughtly 10 to 20 percent have lifelong psychotic episodes. Which means 80 to 90 percent do not. People with Bi-Polar make up another one percent. Twenty percent of people at any given time are suffering from mental illness. So how do we jump to the conclusion that someone with mental illness is non-functional.

I think Brittany should get what she wants. As long as you aren't hurting other people or doing anything criminal, you have the right to live your life as you want. One thing that is hard for parents is to step back and allow your child to live their lives mistakes and all. I do understand why celebrities are speaking up. It allows them to tap into Brittney's fan base. Some may have strong genuine feelings on Brittany's behalf. My concern would be the level of mental illness that she suffers. There is a huge difference between someone being treated for mental illness and someone who is not treated. 

From Brittany Spears anger I feel a confusion. Is she vicious? Is it righteous anger? Who knows. But we will read dribble about her poor miserable life off and on for a while.

Meanwhile, the West coast of the United States is burning. There is flooding in Europe. People are dying of Covid who intentionally declined the vaccine. I know. A cousin of mine recently passed from Covid. The misinformation from so called experts who has made some people paranoid about a supposed Big Brother aspect of everyone getting the vaccine is the problem. I really would like Brittany Spears to go after these folks. Their misinformation is killing people.

Working Dogs

 Americans really like their dogs. I can still picture an older man with his arm around his dog like a girlfriend and talking to it as they slowly drove down a minor highway. The man leaned into his dog as he took a right turn on a small road that would cross a railroad track. This happened easily 40 years ago.

In June of 1997, I purchased a miniature poodle at a yard sale. I was hoping he would be large miniature. He was a small miniature and never weighed over 10 pounds. At the time I had a 90 to 100 pound Golden Retriever mix. I would walk the two dogs. The large dog would want to stop and enjoy the scenery and lay down on me. In time, Mr. 9 pounds would do the 90 pound dog lay down. I humored him some. One night my large dog was at the vets recovering from a minor surgery. I began to walk my small dog at twilight and realized my rural walk was not going to happen. Mr. 9 pounds was not the protection Mr. 90 pounds was.

The world can be a messy, miserable place. I certainly believe "Survival of the Fittest" is the rule versus the exception in the most civilized of countries. I have two mentally handicapped siblings and this is why I moved home and began helping my mother. My big regret is that I did not do so when my father was alive. The year before he passed, I came home for about two days every week. I began working at an evening high school which had a longer day but the luxury of a four day work week. It was a jolly year for us.

My older brother is developmentally delayed. One time he tried to tell me that people were mean to him and he did not like to walk the dogs. A week or so later, I was following him and my sister walking their dogs. As I caught up, the children who were taunting them saw me. They froze in their tracks and rode off on their bikes. They recognized me as a teacher at their school. 

There is a sadness you feel that is so very old. My brother's siblings would get into fights to protect this brother. I remember one man coming to our home because my squirt of a brother who was about 8 had taken on his 13 year old child who was easily double my brother's size and threatened to call the law. The fact that they never answered the door when my mother had gone to talk to them about the bullying made me laugh on the inside to witness him practically crying about what my brother had done.  His son was not injured. 

I have a sister who developed schizophrenia when she was 19. It is a horrible brain disease. She is quite feisty and people will leave her alone. But there is the other problem which is much worse. It is the isolation of people avoiding her. She is harmless and the medication she takes now has really helped. They say the stigma of mental illness will begin to end as they develop treatment. 

It was with great sadness when my other sister had a stroke. She lost a part of herself and man did the predators swoop in. They are still about and it is a big concern for me and the people who love her. She wants to live independently which she manages. But she needs help. 

So I see the ugly side of humanity. I think about it when I get older. Will someone step up for me? Heck I don't know if I will live that long. I don't believe in worrying about what has not happened.

But I remember walking my dogs. A big burly man in his beat up truck stops and backs up. He is beaming as he shows me his little white poodle with a pink bow on it's head. I drive down the road and see a working class black man walking a foo foo dog of some sort. Another time and day, I am sitting in a park watching a group of kids walking their dog much that is larger than themselves. This gives me a lot of hope for what goes well in the world.  

I currently own nine dogs. Three dogs work as boon companions to my mother, brother and sister that live with me. Three dogs are quite elderly and are pets inherited from one of my brothers who has passed and two from my sister who had a stroke. The final three are mine. 

No one sneaks up on our house. My bulldog is probably my crime preventer where I live.  But it is my Chihuahua mix that is going to rip the home invader in half. The bulldog will only participate if that person makes the mistake of trying to hurt her little buddy.  The mother of the chi mixes is a great ratter too. Almost as good as these cats I have. 

Today there was a deer in my front yard. It seems to know me and wasn't bothered by my mowing. It looked at me. I looked at it. And the elderly 18 year old 6 pound dachshund barked her head off. I was impressed the dog had located the deer.

My older brother's dog is about 60 pounds and about 17 years old. She is blind and cannot hear. I always have to make sure where she is when I approach the road to fetch the newspaper or mail. My mother fell when I went to my brother's house to pack his things. When the medics came, my sister had put all the dogs but the two old ladies up. Well my brother's dog walks up to them and growls "No entry into my house".

My sister put her up but the medics waited for a law enforcement officer to come. As the medic explained, it is when you try to pick someone up that the dog attacks. They are only defending their owner. As aggravating as it had to be for my mother being delayed in being picked up by a toothless, blind hound; my mother had to call her sister that night to brag on the dog. 

My brother's dog does more than just eat. She pees all over the place. But that is another story.

You can call me kitty kitty

 I've always been impressed by people who walk to a different drummer and dare to go out of the norm. I am ambivalent about the fact that I am the person who seeks to blend into the crowd. My older brother would take them on. I grew up in a family that could easily stand out and then there was me, my mother, my sisters and one of my brothers who only wanted to blend in. We were all utter failures to conform in our own way. My dad was born to not give a damn and was a social butterfly.

The funniest thing my dad did was he and my uncle went to a wedding together. Both men liked to talk and go to a party. 

My older brother had great social skills that I did not recognize until I was older. We had a good family but we had our struggles. One thing that happened to my brother and I is we had to enter the world at an earlier age and become independent. Both of us relied on our wits. 

For me it was going to college which at that time you could work and pay for most. Several of us would live in an apartment to save money. I lived in a run down trailer one year and it was incredibly cheap. The fashion at the time was "hippie", so a pair of jeans or three and a selection of tops was all I needed. I'm glad I did not come of age in the sixties. It would have been a choice of fashion or college.

My brother got the poor man's college. He joined the Army and made a tour of Vietnam and came back very troubled. He drank heavily most of his life. Besides being a helicopter mechanic, he was a doorgunner for the helicopter. Vietnam was the frat party from hell. I wanted him to write a book. He didn't want to write a book. In many ways, my brother was my best friend in life. I had thought as we got older, I would get the stories out of him and write them down. As I go through his paperwork, I can't help but notice he had the same family traits as all of us. 

But my brother had the guts to be himself. Me I have conformed. I think of hilarious things to say and strange things invoke a humor in me that I don't share. My brother would let it rip. When leaving the hospital after losing part of a foot about a year before he passed, the nurses gave the biggest smiles when he was leaving. He had entertained in a cantankerous funny way during his stay. One night he had a pizza delivered.

I remember at the first hospital, two young nurses were constantly checking on him because they loved the banter. I told him to watch his salty language. The young gals turned and looked at me and said they could handle it. They were enjoying the entertainment. I can imagine them sitting at the dinner table with their parents. They were that young. 

What has made me considered to walk to a different drummer is that I am not a follower nor a leader. I got my independence very early in life like 4 years old. We had a neighbor that had a past. My father had lived in the same boarding house as her. To protect her virtuous reputation, she spread stories about my family. One was that we were part black and I was the proof. I suspect it was a power trip as well for her. As a consequence, I have always been suspect when someone cautions me about an individual. In my mind, I feel the tick tock what is it for you to control how I feel. 

I thought this had something to do with the fact that I do not have racist tendencies. In living with my mother, I now recognize my parents were not racist. My mother is very open minded and recognizes how badly black people were treated. Looking back at my family, I remember how sad my parents were when Martin Luther King was assassinated. I remember my dad saying he was a good guy. It would be much harder for race relations without him. I also remember what my dad said when I told him what the neighbor was saying. He would not even look up from his reading and said he liked black people. It was OK with him. 

My contention with organized religion I think is genetic from my father's side. My dad is mostly Scottish with a bit of Welsh and English thrown in along with an errant Viking. I have recognized that my doubt of God was more from an anger at people using religion for their advantage. Even today, I feel disgust with television preachers who collect enormous sums from people who have very little. A lot of our social connections in the South are connected to our churches.  

I would go to church. But, I struggle with not having enough time as it is. I'm a moving target anyway. Most of the time I am busy working and not thinking of anything really. I get my best ideas mowing grass for some reason. I have wondered if it is not like meditation and perhaps the angels can get my attention more easily.

Anyway, I was a lucky person to know my brother. I would say Rest in Peace; but, I think he is in heaven. 

Life is Good

     Well we dodged a proverbial bullet on my birthday. The day before my mother wanted to eat some Japanese food and it made her ill. I'm agreeing with her that it was a bit of food poisoning. (My developmentally delayed brother is the only person in the family that will argue with mom. When you look at family photos, my mother has him next to her with her arm around him.) Truth is, the food was too oily for her stomach. I fear what makes Japanese and Chinese food tasty are meat renderings. 

   We like a dish called company cabbage. You add a bit of vinegar and bacon to the cooked cabbage. When carrying the leftovers from the dining room to the kitchen I got a whiff of Chinese food. Hence I discovered one of the magic ingredients in Chinese food is probably bacon grease. My former night school students who worked at restaurants told me they coated potato skins with bacon grease before they were cooked to create a popular appetizer at that time.

   It truly is very scary with a 90 year old parent. I spent the night in her room. Before going to bed, she told me she was scared of dying. I told her that was quite reasonable. She was having difficulty breathing and had only taken one of her meds that day. So I had her take her water pill with her portable toilet by her bed. We proceeded to sleep. I slept through her getting up and down to deal with the water pill. At 3:30 am, I woke up and thought it was morning. Took a few dogs out and looked at the time. I decided to lay down on my bed for a quick snooze and woke at 7 am. When I returned to my mother's room, she was back to normal. I cheered her up. Did she want to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

  So once again I went to my personal purgatory. I purchased sodas but somehow I filled my buggy with other items. Mostly I sat in the car with the dogs until my sister returned. She loves the grocery store too. We shop at a Kroger that sells housewares, clothes, shoes. It is a great one stop shop similar to Walmart without the electronics department. I had two books with me. I am reading one that is "meh". I plan to finish to broaden myself. Isn't it bad luck to not finish a book. 

   "Little Scarlet" by Walter Moseley is calling my name. I look at that sleek red cover, oh my. Oh my, I'm definitely 65. Walter Moseley's sleuth is Easy Rawlins. I'm hoping he proves to be interesting. I saw Walter Moseley speak in the online Bouchercon this past year. He has a cool voice which I expect to hear as I read. I am hoping to go to Bouchercon this next August in New Orleans. It is a 6 hour drive which is reasonable. 

  It is a funny feeling when your mother who announced every year I was her best mother's day present has forgotten my birthday. This is the second time, so the sting is not there. And then, she asks me about my birthday a few days later. My mom's younger sister who is 79 has told her she has Sundowners. What is it with siblings? Fortunately, my mom thinks it is a family thing and is easily cured by a cup of herbal tea. My mother had a bit of disorientation when she was hospitalized about two years ago. This is when my aunt made the diagnosis. 

But where does time go. I think I'll have my mother awhile. She really is of sound mind for the most part. She does remind me to attend to some financial affairs of hers. But that decline is something I recognize even in myself. And for the record, I am not a big birthday person. Now if my brother Tim was alive, the day would have been celebrated Covid or No Covid. 

We have been to the regular doctor and heart doctor. Things are looking good. Both men are very good men. Mom spent her time at the heart doctor explaining how she made soap back in the day. He basically told me to keep good records of her blood pressure so he could tell how her meds were working. 

Today in the grocery store, there was a very cute and grumpy little girl who was say a year old. I smiled and waved at her. She liked that. We took turns waving at each other. Sometimes, I get to be a teacher again where I learned some mystical body language that appeals to children. When I see young girls with their moms at the store, I remember shopping with my mom and the counter being something I could never see over. I wonder how many of those girls will be shopping with their mom for the fun of it when they are 65 and mom is 90.

 

 I don't boycott stores or products. Like many people, I lost my taste for tuna when I heard that dolphins were being caught in tuna nets and drowned. Apparently, I was not alone in that years? later; tuna cans would say they were caught by dolphin safe nets. 

I lost my interest in Woody Allen films when it was revealed he was dating his step daughter. 

But not buying products because of politics has no effect on me. Yes, I would like to see the person who paid for the hotel rooms for those who stormed the capital be prosecuted. But contributions to politicians do not concern me. It does concern me when someone who lives on limited funds make large donations to anyone. 

I know of an older couple whose home was being sold to settle debts. They had borrowed money to give to missionaries. A piece of me thought those missionaries should be sending them some money to help them. That moves to my thoughts about maybe there should be legislation to prevent this.

The political angle does not bother me in that I have a minority opinion where I live. I vote for either political party but I have an inclination to vote Democrat. My opinion is both parties are corrupt. I don't believe in the Democrap and Repugblican philosophies. They are human beings and they have to ride the bandwagon to be elected to be a part of government. 

I have had people to not be my friend over politics and that bothers me. I liked them regardless of their politics. But they have done me a favor. They were not my friend. Sometimes I recognize a kindred spirit who I don't agree with in politics. I have wondered if I would be a conservative where liberalism prevailed. Anytime you have a preponderance of people following a political idea; they are ripe for corruption to set it's lazy, greedy ways in.

And what got me on this topic you might ask. Well if you read this far, I should really share. It was for an over priced serving of  soft serve ice cream by Chick Fil A. I took one back into the store. I thought there had to be a mistake. It turns out, they only sell small sizes and they weight their product. Alas, here is a picture. I originally wanted to put my picture on Facebook. Then I thought, I don't boycott or do crap like that. 

Plus there are many who would be content to pay $1.25 for that tiny bit of soft serve. Not everyone is a hog like my family is. We like to buy large and enjoy ourselves. My little dog, Bo, loves the bottom of my ice cream. When we go grocery shopping, we go to Chick Fil A. Mom's dog, Jobelle, loves chicken nuggets. My 90 year old mom likes to get her dog some nuggets. 

So, I am packing dishes, spoons and a serving spoon. Next grocery trip, I am buying some good Mayfield Ice Cream. Once everyone and the load of grits is packed into the car. I am getting our ice cream out and serving everyone. 

We might have to sit in the parking lot for a bit. The dogs have to eat their cream in a controlled environment. Jobelle and Bo can get quite testy about their treats. Each thinks the other got a better dish and they don't want the other one looking at their ice cream. Ice Cream is much better on a sunny day in the car. We've got two ancient containers at home that I need to throw out.

You guessed it. None of that is going to happen. I will ask. Does anyone want me to buy them an ice cream. My brother and sister will say yes. My mom will want a frosted lemonade. I may get a frosted lemonade. But I am done with their ice cream!

We will still get Bo and Jobelle a box of nuggets. My brother and sister enjoy their Chick Fil A lunch before we go in the store. My mom and I have long been burned out on their food. 

I have an ice cream maker. I am making ice cream for mother's day. It's going to be a party. I'm buying strawberries too.

I've started reading Mark Twain's autobiography.  

Big Plans, Really Big Big Plans

 I've spent my life a planner, maintaining a safe, secure location to better manage those slings and arrows of outrageous fortune like Hamlet. I have three tomes I feel a need to study. One is a spiritual tour of Flannery O'Conner's The Habit of Being. The second is Mark Twain's autobiography that was published 100 years after his death and the third being the complete works of Shakespeare. Plus there is that TBR shelves of books, a library of children stories I picked up at an estate sale and my mother's recommendation of reading the Bible.

It's more of less picking a path. My disorganized system truly stinks. This week, I read Elizabeth Greenwood's book about how people purposely disappear and why it truly does not work well for them. But like all things, there is a good reason for some to disappear like victims of spousal abuse. Most people who try to disappear do it for the money. And interesting enough they are rarely prosecuted for making false insurance claims. They are just denied the claim.

We have a time bomb in our country and that is unpaid college debt. Having financed my own education, I am not too sympathetic. Having been young, I do think assuming so much debt should be limited by the lenders. Manana is the rallying cry of the young. You know "Someday Never Comes" is more than a song by Creedence Clearwater Revival. 

I don't think student debts should be wiped clean. But I do think there should be responsibility of the lender to monitor how much is borrowed versus the how much that person will be able to pay back. I remember a young lady who was bemoaning she would owe 10,000 in student loans back in 1980. For the student who owes 100.000, I wonder in 40 years will inflation reduce it's sting. Elizabeth Greenwood supposedly had flirted with the idea of a fake death to get rid of her college debt. I think it was just a thread she ran with in the book. She is very smart, and I suspect has quite a profitable career in writing waiting for her.

I never had trouble getting a job. One reason was the fact I always had a job and would work any job available. I was a professional in that I taught school. But I have been a house cleaner, lawn mower, baby sitter, peach grader, cashier, food worker, waitress, bank worker, cook, dishwasher. My mother is from Appalachia and there is no shame in honest work. For the most part me and my siblings have been good workers. One of my siblings wasn't so much a poor worker, she just never chose careers that used her natural talents.

Therein lies the rub comes from Shakespeare's Hamlet comes to mind. Young people going to college or university don't have to have a car nor do they need to live in an apartment like a young working person of independent means. Why aren't kids living in dorms and eating in a dining hall? They probably still are. Not every young person can handle a part time job and full time college which is what I essentially did. We all dressed like hippies in the seventies which helped me out financially big time in college. My roommate and I joked how our favorite jeans were standing by our beds every morning waiting on us.

When you are young or at least for me, that is when my pride got the best of me. I feel that pain for young people now. I would like to share with them that one day; you will not care. You will want to apologize to that kid you picked on. You will see where that kid that had everything really was not as lucky as you were. 

And the gist of this post was really how everything lately reminds me how much time I have left in this world. How well will I spend the rest of it. Next week, you'll find out which I have chosen to read during the summer of 2021. Of course, I got to get a better schedule for my day. Oh my. And even though there is a big part of me that wants people to pay back their student loans for living so high on the hog; as a country we need to give a low interest rate and possibly some way to erase a portion of their loans. They need to pay something. But not an 11 percent interest rate when you can currently purchase a house with a 3 to 4 percent loan. 

I'm leaning toward reading the children's stories. The 26 books have the date 1941. I doubt they were ever read. They really need to be read.