My Sunday Feeling

Tomorrow will be my birthday.  Don’t have anything planned.  First of all the two other people that live here work for a living and so things tend to shut down pretty early around here on the weeknights.  Secondly, it’s not like I’m 7 or something.  It’s just not that big of a deal.  Granted, unlike, say, Christmas, having a birthday is at least a moderately pleasant experience. But when you are entering the same zip code as the seventies, you put such calendar events in perspective.  

What’s different now that I’ve circumnavigated the sun one more time?  Not much really.  Against all odds I am still married.  “Against all odds” really is a figure of speech in my case since they me off the boards in Vegas years ago.

Joe and I seem to be the only people in the county that have not caught covid yet.  I figure that given my historic susceptibility to any bug in current circulation amongst the populace I would have caught it 5 times by now.  But so far so good.  

I guess my major difference between now and last year is I am down in the back.  Nothing major.  But I can’t seem to shake it which is unlike me.  I threw it out about a month ago. While. Taking. A. Walk.  I finished the apparently perilous activity in front of my house.  I stretched.  Suddenly-zing!- my lower back, glutes and hip flexors locked up.

I related this story to my PCP the next day.  He frowned and wrote stuff in his chart.  The nurse came in and gave me two shots in the ass.  I was then taken to the x-ray chamber.  A few minutes later, the doctor came back in the exam room.  “Congratulations,” he said. “Your back’s completely shot. I’m surprised you haven’t been in here with something like this before now.”

I guess at this point in time he figures I do not require even the pretense of a bedside manner.  Which I guess I don’t.  Give it to me straight.  I will take like a man.  Albeit one who is stooped forward.  He gave me a scrip for pills and PT.  He also gave me a booklet of exercises for my back. “Just like brushing your teeth every morning,” he said.

So I guess that’s new this year.  I start my day doing glute bridges now.  Didn’t do that this time last year.  All and all it isn’t so bad.  I can still play golf.  I just can’t do anything the next day.  My pain level on a scale of 1-10 is @ a 2. And it’s not a constant thing.  I can live with that.  God knows there are folks that are a whole lot worse off than me.  That in itself is worth remembering if not celebrating.  

Speaking of celebrations, and speaking of being 7 years of age, my great niece Hattie turns 7 today.  She is having a party today and unlike mine  WILL be a blowout.  Of course, what passes for the pleasure of my company is required.  This will be the first little kid party I’ve gone to in years.  I shall carry ear plugs and take Valium beforehand. 

Hattie is brother Bob’s granddaughter. He and I share a birthday.  Typically we exchange amber liquid to commemorate the fact that random laughing chance has given the two of us a shared native day.  Bob is into scotch now.  I know nothing about scotch and so I asked him what he wanted.  

I about threw my back out again when I saw the sticker.  He is not worth this.

We will meet again next Saturday night here with our buddy Ray, who naturally as I type this, is getting over -guess what?-Covid.  Random laughing chance has given the 3 of us a shared native day.  The Deacon will prepare a vegan repast for the occasion.  Toasts will be offered.  Stories will be shared.  Wives will be tolerant. And the 3 of us will celebrate the fact that we have circumnavigated the sun one more time.

Maybe I’ll forget about my back.   But I won’t forget that Bob ain’t worth the price of that high end scotch.  

   

My Sunday Feeling

 I believe in voting.  Really I do.  I couldn’t tell you the last time I didn’t exercise the franchise during election season.  I used to go on Election Day.  I always enjoyed the activity around the polling place, seeing friends and acquaintances and shooting the breeze with my fellow voters in the voting line.

As I’ve grown older I’ve tended toward earlier balloting for the same reason I don’t much like going to live sporting events anymore.  What used to be exciting has been rendered a hassle.  Particularly when even a high school game will broadcast on the Internet.  So I watch most sports from the comfort of my living room.  I now vote early.  Either method gets either job done.  

One of the local races of note is the race between our incumbent mayor Frank Scott and retired car dealer Steve Landers.  There are two others in the race.  One is an earnest, thought provoking food blogger.  He stands very little chance.  The other would have to be upwardly mobile to hit buffoon status.  Seriously the Buffoon Union should sue him for damaging the brand.

But I digress.

I don’t write all that much about politics.  I tend to keep my opinions limited to my friends and family.  For one reason I believe that my political beliefs are my own damn business.  Secondly, we are so polarized on every issue that to express an opinion invites invective styled as “debate.”  Who needs it?

But as God is my witness, as it stands right now I may not cast a vote in the mayor’s race.  And I’m a voting man. 

How come, you may ask?  Well I’ll tell you.

Let me preface my explanation by saying that I had great hopes for Frank Scott.  He is the first Black mayor in the city’s history.  He was a banker and Highway Commissioner before he threw his hat in the ring for Mayor.  He comes from the same modest working class part of town that I came from.  There is an absolutely charming story from his young banker days about his being invited to lunch at a swanky restaurant.  He had to ask for directions because he had never been in that particular section of town before.  That’s a great origin story.

Naturally he had a strong base of support from the Black community.  But a good number of white folks voted for him.  Indeed, I have a friend, a conservative in every sense, who voted for Scott because he felt it was time for a black mayor in Little Rock.

My friend will not vote again for Frank Scott.  

He lost our votes when he shut down 2 of the municipal golf courses with no funding in place to make use of the properties for other uses.  Frank’s Pasture, formerly  known as War Memorial Golf Course has been pretty much unused except for walkers and the homeless since he shut it down 2 years ago.

His hand picked Chief of Police, since “retired,” turned out to have money problems.  Little Rock is one of the more dangerous cities in America.  Scott promised to add cops to the police force.  He did not. In all fairness, unlike other cities I could mention, we do have running water.  And the Scott Administration has spent money like so much of it.  Further, the City’s compliance with FOIA is spotty at best.  And cronyism abounds.  

Speaking of cronyism, then there’s LITFest which was a phony baloney “festival” cooked up last August which was supposed to begin last Friday.  It was cancelled at the last minute due to questions about whether the funding of same was in compliance with the city code regarding procurement and the contract between the city and the event planner.  By the way, an employee of said event planner used to be Scott’s chief of staff.  I’m guessing that both the promoter and the city will get sued by the vendors and performers who got stiffed.  Good work.  

I could go on.  But it’s too depressing.

What about Landers then?  I do not know Steve Landers.  I’ve never bought a vehicle from one of his dealerships.  I have it on good authority that he is a warm and generous man, and that he was a good person to work for.  He is a good communicator, direct and to the point. Then again, his ads for his various car dealerships have run around here for years.  Sound bites he can do. Contrary to certain rumors along these lines, I wouldn’t think that one could be major success in the sales business if you are stupid or a racist.  I have no reason to be believe that he is either.  

Neither are these qualifications for public office.

This is Landers’s first run for elective office.  He says Little Rock’s problem is a management problem and that he is a manager.  So I guess that the argument is that olitical experience viewed through that lens is over-rated.

But I say Donald Trump and Frank Scott are proof that political experience is invaluable.  A man like Steve Landers is used to running things pretty much as he sees fit.  Can’t run the city like a car dealership.  There are constituencies within constituencies in city government.  The learning curve for him would be steep.  Just as it was for Frank Scott.  And the less we say about Trump the better.  

Look, the Mayor’s office in Little Rock is pretty weak.  The City is pretty much run by the City Board and City Manager anyway.  So I don’t feel that I’m being irresponsible.

What a choice.  A proven incompetent versus another amateur.  

Go ahead.  Arrest me for treason.  And I may change my mind.  But as it stands right now I swear to God I’m not voting in the Mayor’s race.