Putzing & Sleeping
Since true folk heroes who Sharpie bullets with enigmatic messages are in short supply, I was kinda-sorta hoping the United Healthcare CEO shooter would elude capture.
But, of course, he didn’t.
He turns out to be an Ivy League graduate who-get this!-belonged to RTT’s fraternity and bore a grudging admiration for Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, whose manifesto he gave a four-out-of-five-star review.
Maybe they can be cell mates or something.
Yeah, I think fraternities suck, too, but as RTT explained it, joining a frat gave him instant access to a social life when he first started university, and RTT-the most extroverted human on the planet-needs a social life.
Also, Ted Kaczynski was the cause of one of the worst fights I’ve ever had with Ichabod! I have a friend who used to refer-humorously!-to the house he bought in the Aptos woods as his “Kaczynski cabin,” a description of a hermit’s nest that I just ❤️LUV❤️ed.
So a couple of years ago, I referred to some place Ichabod was staying out in the forest as a “Kaczynski cabin,” and Ichabod just hit the ceiling. Accused me of accusing him of violent psychopath tendencies! Refused to believe me when I told him it was just a little in-joke that misfired.
Anyway. The Unabomber would certainly enjoy today’s weather! It is cold and dank and forboding; the ground mists are still swirling thick & impenetrable long after noon.
###
In the week or so since I’ve been back, I’ve been putzing & proactively sleeping enormous amounts-this in keeping with my theory that much of the time, people get sick because they’re looking for an excuse to loll about & do absolutely nothing, & illness is the only excuse most of us have for indolence.
Here I will note that one of the effects of having had the type of bizarre upbringing I had is that “normal” & “corny” seem exotic to me.
When I’m surrounded by mainstream America-as I am here in Wallkill, possibly more than in any place I have ever lived-I often feel like I’m skipping down the Hall of North American Mammals in some kind of cosmic American Natural History Museum.
Truck in the driveway: That’s the Trump Voters diorama. Suburu in the driveway: That’s the Harris Voters diorama. Flags = Veterans. Jesus Loves You signs = Christian fundamentalists; Plaster Marys = Catholics. Broken swing sets & 2001 Fords on cinderblocks = He’s-A-Drunk-&-She’s-Trying-To-Cover.
It’s all very strange.
And the rising tide of what I can only term “fundamentalism” makes it seem even stranger.
But, of course, he didn’t.
He turns out to be an Ivy League graduate who-get this!-belonged to RTT’s fraternity and bore a grudging admiration for Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, whose manifesto he gave a four-out-of-five-star review.
Maybe they can be cell mates or something.
Yeah, I think fraternities suck, too, but as RTT explained it, joining a frat gave him instant access to a social life when he first started university, and RTT-the most extroverted human on the planet-needs a social life.
Also, Ted Kaczynski was the cause of one of the worst fights I’ve ever had with Ichabod! I have a friend who used to refer-humorously!-to the house he bought in the Aptos woods as his “Kaczynski cabin,” a description of a hermit’s nest that I just ❤️LUV❤️ed.
So a couple of years ago, I referred to some place Ichabod was staying out in the forest as a “Kaczynski cabin,” and Ichabod just hit the ceiling. Accused me of accusing him of violent psychopath tendencies! Refused to believe me when I told him it was just a little in-joke that misfired.
Anyway. The Unabomber would certainly enjoy today’s weather! It is cold and dank and forboding; the ground mists are still swirling thick & impenetrable long after noon.
###
In the week or so since I’ve been back, I’ve been putzing & proactively sleeping enormous amounts-this in keeping with my theory that much of the time, people get sick because they’re looking for an excuse to loll about & do absolutely nothing, & illness is the only excuse most of us have for indolence.
Here I will note that one of the effects of having had the type of bizarre upbringing I had is that “normal” & “corny” seem exotic to me.
When I’m surrounded by mainstream America-as I am here in Wallkill, possibly more than in any place I have ever lived-I often feel like I’m skipping down the Hall of North American Mammals in some kind of cosmic American Natural History Museum.
Truck in the driveway: That’s the Trump Voters diorama. Suburu in the driveway: That’s the Harris Voters diorama. Flags = Veterans. Jesus Loves You signs = Christian fundamentalists; Plaster Marys = Catholics. Broken swing sets & 2001 Fords on cinderblocks = He’s-A-Drunk-&-She’s-Trying-To-Cover.
It’s all very strange.
And the rising tide of what I can only term “fundamentalism” makes it seem even stranger.
