CSotD: Friday Short Takes
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We'll start with politics and work our way to less unpleasant topics. Bill Day makes a simple point with a simple cartoon, and one that is not only germane to the ridiculous "worst president ever" claims appearing on social media — even if you don't like him, you'd have to be totally ignorant of history to believe that — but also in light of Republican promises to continue to block legislation and even Supreme Court appointments if their boy doesn't get in.
Which he won't, despite the cartoons playing on the tight polls that rely on the overall popular vote rather than the way it plays out in the various states. But shhhh! because the claims of a tight race will spur turnout, and predictions of a runaway could suppress it.
Anyway, the GOP has a lot of nerve blaming inaction on Obama, given their previously stated intention of making sure nothing happened during his eight years in office.
And, over in Prickly City, we have a warning that I also think is unnecessary, but that should be borne in mind by those who back third parties: The results of the election do not have to be a tie in order for the race to be thrown into the House of Representatives.
All that is necessary is for nobody to get 50% of the vote, the oft-cited 270 electoral college votes.
But sorry, Carmen: The madness would not continue for long. The House is GOP and, thanks to gerrymandering, will likely stay GOP, but that's irrelevant because the election would be decided by the current House.
Quickly.
So, yes, a vote for Johnson or Stein is a vote for Trump.
I promised to get to less unpleasant topics, and, at Alex, we're talking about a divorce. Not a lot of contexts in which that wouild be less unpleasant, but such are the times.
There are moments in divorce that hit you harder than expected, and some are major: Even though I knew it was coming, the first night the boys were at their mother's, I was devastated. I knew they were coming back in a few days, I had no doubt they loved me, but it was a dose of "This is really happening" that knocked me over.
And I envy those divorcing in this age of digital photographs, because they can just copy the files and say, "Delete whatever you don't want."
We divvied up our pictures early on, and it came down to a lot of "If you're in it, it's yours." After the wounds had healed a bit, I realized how much family history had disappeared from my collection.
But wotthehell and I got over that.
There are, however, revelations that are far less monumental, and dividing up the kitchen gear was high on the list. We quarrelled over one mixing bowl, and the rest was a matter of "Sure, take whatever you need."
Which she did. Which was fine with me. Until I went shopping.
The first shock was replacing the cast iron skillet. They don't give those things away.
But then came the steady rain of random stuff that doesn't cost much: Can openers and cheese graters and … well, pretty much the contents of Clive's overcoat.
Each one is easily under ten bucks, but, in the aggregate, it's a major investment, and the reason you don't expect it is that all that stuff kind of trickled into your life, starting with your first college apartment. Nobody goes out and fills a kitchen drawer all in one fell swoop.
Until they get divorced.
It's not the biggest ticket item. We had two cars, so that was easy, but she bought a new stereo and I bought a new TV, and I kept the computer because, back then, a computer was mostly a work device that she didn't need.
That was all major stuff we had not only discussed and planned for, but had written into the separation agreement. We didn't have anything in there about can openers and soap dishes.
I still haven't replaced the melon baller, and it's been 32 years.
So don't come around here looking for melon balls, my friend.
And I agree with Lizzie in Reply All. Do these screenwriters even have dogs?
There was a time when we somehow had four dogs, and we only used the initial letter "W" because saying the word "walk" would turn the house into a scene of absolute chaos.
They didn't bring us their leashes because the leashes weren't where the dogs could get them. That's a thing I don't understand because I wouldn't put the leash where the dog could get it.
But the prospect of a walk didn't involve sitting and look cute, with or without a leash. As Lizzie suggests, it didn't involve sitting at all. Quite the opposite.
Though there is a cure, and it's simply a matter of choosing the right kind of dog.
Now I've got a hound, and we're at the other end of the emotional scale. It rained all day yesterday and he managed to make it from the night before until there was a lull at about 2 pm, whereupon he went out, did what he had to do and came right back in.
Around 5:30, I was running a quick errand and asked him if he wanted to come along.
He didn't even lift his head from the couch.
It was raining.
That made it a question too stupid to even acknowledge.
I love hounds.
Now here's your dog/divorce combo moment of zen:
(Screenwriters also have an odd notion that, when dissimilar dogs mate,
the puppies look exactly like either one or the other. Not just here,
but also see "Lady and the Tramp" and "Turner and Hooch.")
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