Haven't written today yet. But it is Mother's Day, so that sort of thing tends to take priority.
There was quite a get-together today in honor of my mom. Two of her brothers came, with their wives, two children, and then all of my siblings (my brother, two sisters, my niece, my brother-in-law, and three nephews). In the days leading up to this, my niece, who goes by Cathexis when we do our "Twilight Groan" podcast*, had asked several of my mom's friends and family members to record video greetings for her, then had spent the weekend editing them all together into a video, which we watched in the backyard.
It was quite amazing, as we all gathered to watch it, and I was surprised by how many familiar (and unfamiliar) faces she'd gotten to send their best wishes and/or share memories of my mom.
I've heard of funerals for the living, and this really seemed like that sort of thing, with my mom's brothers, sisters, nieces, neighbors, nephews, former coworkers, children, and grandchildren all saying or singing something. Cathexis had put my clip last, because it was the longest, and I have to admit I took off into the front yard when I saw my face show up (I had shared a story about my childhood, and then sang a Storage Unit Serenade for my mom, and while I'm totally comfortable with my voice--even if the singing isn't perfect--I just couldn't look at myself doing it [though I must admit, I didn't look as fat as usual in the video]).
It was pretty fascinating to see the different video qualities (I think mine was literally the only one where I had turned the phone to get a horizontal image rather than vertical, so of course, it looked better than most, despite my shite camera), and the affectionate messages in both English and Spanish were pretty darn great.
Well done, Cathexis.
The day went on, and I talked to Big, and he hadn't gotten any words in at eleven o'clock his time. Scary. Of course, neither had I. But it was Day 100, so I had to do it, whether I wanted to or not. I wrote some words (plenty, I think), and I actually ended up falling asleep early, and woke up around two, realizing I hadn't done any sit-ups for the day.
And saints be praised, I got up and did sit-ups before going back to bed.
Sit-ups Today: 30
Sit-ups Total: 329
I usually get a lot of sit-ups in when I watch "Better Call Saul" (I have this tradition of not fast-forwarding the commercials, but instead, doing sit-ups or push-ups through them, like my Uncle John used to do years and years ago when he'd spend the night at my childhood home and wake me up to watch "Saturday Night Live"), but that show is over for another year--I swear, they have shorter seasons than your average mayfly. Maybe I'll find a new show to exercise through; I told Big I might watch the whole of "Community" once it hit Netflix Streaming, and that's now the case.
I look forward to my weekly hikes, and somehow, I did get a hike in today, but I was so tired afterward that I just recorded my thoughts into my phone, knowing I wouldn't want to spend an hour typing them. We'll see if I can upload them tomorrow.
And that's i . . . I don't know if I should share this bit or not, but I had typed it earlier, so why not?
The other day, my uncle posted a picture on Facebook that was truly revolting. Imagine, if you will, the dirtiest picture you can think of, involving something coming out and somebody else about to eat it. Now, transpose that disgusting thought to something political, involving the worst example of public office we've seen in my lifetime . . . and then throw religion into it. You got it?
Well, I saw this image, and I almost couldn't believe it. It was beyond reprehensible, and since there was no caption, I couldn't even speculate that it might be intended ironically. So I typed a comment about being disappointed to see something like that, and started to scroll away.**
But a moment later, I regretted it. My uncle is a good man, with a big heart, who does the best he can, and just like Trump says, "There are very fine people on both sides." And it occurred to me that he might find my comment hurtful, of incendiary (although, dude . . .), so I went back up, and I deleted the comment. I don't know if I was raised with the dictum "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all," but Thumper in BAMBI certainly was, and that dude's a hero to me.
So, I deleted my comment, and just put it out of my mind, just like Thumper's mother used to say whenever the Playboy bunny got brought up.
But today, the party for Mother's Day was winding down, and I overheard my uncle complaining to somebody about a message on his Facebook account. My ears perked up: indeed, he was talking about somebody's comment on the picture he posted. I sort of froze in place, the way a deer does in the headlights, right before you ruin your already-falling-apart Mazda 3 on I-70. I thought, "Oh boy, did my comment show up after all?" Because I don't know how Facebook works. Sometimes, when I'm logged in, and somebody comments on my thread, it beeps and comes to the foreground, so I can see in real-time what a person just posted. Maybe that happened with mine, despite me deleting it after twelve seconds.
But no, apparently, someone else had seen this utterly reprehensible photo (again, it's only offensive to me . . . and hopefully you too . . . and oh, I dunno, people with souls), and typed, "This makes me very sad." And not only that, but someone else (a someone soon to be, as the Amish call it, meidung) had Liked the comment. My uncle was going on and on about how ignorant that was, and how he thought he knew this person, but clearly, they needed to be un-Friended as soon as possible.
I was just a fly on the wall for this conversation, in which my uncle explained his interpretation of the picture he'd uploaded, and in his mind, yeah, I guess it's a little less repellent than how I saw it, but still, not something that is evident without a caption or a lengthy paragraph saying, "I know this picture is virulently offensive, but this is the spirit in which I'm sharing it . . ."
I nearly interrupted his conversation and mentioned that I too had been grossed out by the photo but thought better of saying so . . . and then I decided not to. Better, I guess, not to open that can of worms. Religion and politics are even more problematic than being a Star Wars fan.
Words Today: 1083
Words In May: 11,274
*I keep trying to get her to do a remote episode with me, but she has no recorder and seems unwilling to use her Voice app on her phone, so I may have to ask my Patreon supporters if they wouldn't mind paying for the last two episodes, so I can buy her a Zoom recorder.
**Imagine if I posted on my Facebook page, a photo of a dead child, covered with flies, and the caption, "What, no love for the Star Wars Prequels?" And you, being a thoroughly decent human being, saw the photo, shook your head, and commented, "Maybe not the best photo to share?" That's the understatement my own comment was.
But no, apparently, someone else had seen this utterly reprehensible photo (again, it's only offensive to me . . . and hopefully you too . . . and oh, I dunno, people with souls), and typed, "This makes me very sad." And not only that, but someone else (a someone soon to be, as the Amish call it, meidung) had Liked the comment. My uncle was going on and on about how ignorant that was, and how he thought he knew this person, but clearly, they needed to be un-Friended as soon as possible.
I was just a fly on the wall for this conversation, in which my uncle explained his interpretation of the picture he'd uploaded, and in his mind, yeah, I guess it's a little less repellent than how I saw it, but still, not something that is evident without a caption or a lengthy paragraph saying, "I know this picture is virulently offensive, but this is the spirit in which I'm sharing it . . ."
I nearly interrupted his conversation and mentioned that I too had been grossed out by the photo but thought better of saying so . . . and then I decided not to. Better, I guess, not to open that can of worms. Religion and politics are even more problematic than being a Star Wars fan.
Words Today: 1083
Words In May: 11,274
*I keep trying to get her to do a remote episode with me, but she has no recorder and seems unwilling to use her Voice app on her phone, so I may have to ask my Patreon supporters if they wouldn't mind paying for the last two episodes, so I can buy her a Zoom recorder.
**Imagine if I posted on my Facebook page, a photo of a dead child, covered with flies, and the caption, "What, no love for the Star Wars Prequels?" And you, being a thoroughly decent human being, saw the photo, shook your head, and commented, "Maybe not the best photo to share?" That's the understatement my own comment was.
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