Month: March 2022

  • The Return of the Cold

    The wife has a cold, and is laid up in bed today. She was laid up in bed yesterday, too, so I feel like we are repeating ourselves. This cold came from our child. I hate to be like that, but it’s true. The kid was the carrier monkey, as she had this exact same thing a week ago. The kid had a sore throat on the past Thursday night, so we kept her home from school on the next day. About half way through Friday, she was pretty much back to normal. She was still a little groggy, but the sore throat was gone. Today, my wife doesn’t have the sore throat, but she feels like crap. Furthermore, this leads me to believe that I will be sick next week.

    As annoying as all of this is, this is the way life used to be. The kid would go to school, get a cold, then we all would get it in the house. It’s amazing that once we stopped isolating, and wearing a mask, the old cycle of disease has returned. Good or bad, the rhinovirus cycle was a part of the old normal.

    On a small level, it has been rewarding taking care of my wife and kid through their little colds. It’s always nice to be needed, not that they haven’t made me feel needed. It’s nice to take care of something you love.

    The funny part of all of this, is that I started to remember back when I worked in the very toxic office, how I would look forward to getting sick, so I wouldn’t have to go in to work. When I would get that first weird feeling of being rundown, I would celebrate a little in my mind. Yet again, another sign that I should have quit that job sooner. You live, you learn.

  • Short Story Review: “The Ukraine” by Artem Chapeye

    (The short story “The Ukraine,” by Artem Chapeye and translated from the Ukrainian by Zenia Tompkins,, appeared in the April 4th, 2022 issue of “The New Yorker.)

    I feel that I am like most Americans, in the sense that I didn’t know a whole lot about Ukraine until about two months ago. I knew that a town in Texas was named after a city Ukraine, that the Crimea was in Ukraine, and that’s where the Charge of the Light Brigade took place. I knew that Chernobyl was in Ukraine, and that the country used to be a part of the Soviet Union. Let’s see, there was also that Trump/Biden impeachment thing that had a Ukraine connection. But, outside of that…

    I also think it is an incorrect belief that one writer can capture the whole spirit of a nation. Steinbeck’s America was different from Kerouac’s, as was Baldwin’s and Twain’s. Each is different, and was still correct. Artem Chapeye’s story, “The Ukraine” is about Ukraine, if you couldn’t put that together, and also about a relationship between the narrator and a woman. The cynical side of me, the judgmental side to be honest, was hesitant to read it because the title alone made it feel like The New Yorker was only publishing this story due to current events. As I started reading, and the narrator spoke of his travels across Ukraine with his girlfriend, I had the bad feeling that the author was going to try and capture all of Ukraine in one piece. And as I stated before, I find these encapsulations an act of folly.

    Like I said, I was being judgmental.

    “The Ukraine” is not an exercise of excessive nationalist propaganda, but a soft, quiet meditation on memories, life, death, acceptance, and travel that bonds people together. (In fact, the story has a great line against public displays of overt patriotism, that I won’t ruin.) Maybe part of the power of this story is the fact that as places and cities of Ukraine are named, in my mind, I can see the images of burnt out buildings, and bomb cratered streets. To hear that these places were once a destination that brought about joy to the couple in the story, created a palatable melancholy for all the things lost. About half way through the piece, it finally dawned on me that the fact the story took place in Ukraine was inconsequential. The act of experiencing places together with someone you love, sharing time, creating memories, these are the actions that make life valuable. I will say that the climax was not a total surprise, as it had been hinted, but it still held the needed weight to conclude the story.

    This was not a revolutionary work. It’s didn’t break new ground in literature, or change the landscape of fiction. No, it wasn’t that. What it was, was authentic, and honest. It pointed out a fault of mine, while also reminding me that this truth still exists, “People are beautiful, even if they don’t realize it.”

  • Gumming Up the Works

    You know what happens in our home when it’s twenty degrees outside? No one wants to get up, myself included. Even the dog didn’t want to get out of my bed. The poor kid-o refused to get out from under her covers, so I had to pick her up outta bed and take her to the couch. Long story short, the kid was late to school. I’m talking maybe ten minutes late. Instead of going in the side door with her class and teacher, we had to go through the main front door, and by the school security guard. I watched the kid hang her head low as she slow walked down to her classroom, and had to open the door, in effect announcing her lateness to the class.

    In the realm of the Universe we live in, this was not a big deal, but to her, I could just feel the defeat and how this twenty-four-hour period will be described as the worst day ever. I might even hear it multiple times today.

    And still, I felt my little heart break for her. Such an innocent state of grace that she lives in where just being late is all the cause one would need for the day to be the worst. This caused me to remember the large and small tragedies that would befall me in elementary school. Missing the bus, or forgetting my lunch, or getting a stain on my shirt when it was picture day. Getting the question wrong, or being accused of liking a girl, when I did actually really like that girl.

    Watching my kid go through these things, does not make me feel good, but somehow confirms that life is really just on repeat. When it comes to how we deal with things, nothing changes from one generation to the next. I try to nurture a different result, but nature keeps gumming up the works.

  • The Slap

    I will say this; We are all united in having an opinion over “The Slap.”

    Even if that opinion is “I’m still processing what just happened.”

    But whatever happens next with Chris Rock or Will Smith, the video of that incident will also be attached to them, forever. When the day comes and both of these men pass away, the clip will be played. They cannot escape it. It is done and now a part of our collective culture.

    And that does make me feel rather sad for both of them.

    I do think Chris Rock is one of the greatest comedians of all time. I see him as an artist. One who keeps testing himself and trying new things.

    Will Smith is one of the last great Hollywood actors. Not unlike Tom Hanks, Jimmy Stewart, Henry Fonda, and Cary Grant. That leading man that everyone likes, and has the acting talent to back it up.

    But now, does this change the perception of them? Is one the good guy, and the other the bad guy? Are they both bad guys?

    A friend of mine, who is much more perceptive than I, has called the incident a cultural Rorschach test; Everyone will read into it what they want.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Ginni Thomas, The Kid has a Cold, and Spring

    Oh, I love it when the curtain is pulled back on “important” people. If you don’t know, Ginni Thomas is the wife of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. Ginni Thomas has been playing a role in many conservative issues that have, or are, coming to the SCOTUS docket, as reported by The New Yorker. Then, she started playing a role in helping organize the January 6th rally for Trump, as reported by The New York Times. Now, turns out that she was texting Mark Meadows, Trump’s Chief of Staff, some crazy ass QAnon shit right after the election, according to CBS/The Washington Post. The issue here is if Ginni’s efforts to overturn the 2020 Election have created a conflict of interest for Justice Thomas, when it comes to cases that may come to the Court in regard to the January 6th Commission law suits. That all is very important, and does raise some important questions that should be answered. What I find interesting is that Ginni Thomas, who works in the highest echelons of political advocacy, and who moves in most dignified intellectual circles of D.C, is basically just your crazy-ass conspiracy minded aunt that you have to put up with at the Holidays.

    Yup, the kid has a cold. She is sitting next to me on the couch, drawing and watching tv, while I write this. It almost feels like this is, well, normal. I have this feeling that I want to be outside all the time now. I have started looking up hiking trails further upstate, that are longer and a little more rugged. Not sure that the wife and kid will agree with this, but I’ll see if I can convince them. I kind’a feel like a little kid again when I think about getting out in nature. Like when I was a Cub Scout, learning how to camp, and identify leaves to trees. I guess I’m ready for Spring.