Nothing bout nothing in Normal entries

Today I do my monthly dance with doc and pharmacy; it’s not anxious, just tiresome. It was anxious for the first few years, I mean I’d speak into a recording on Monday for Fridays scripts and by Wednesday I’d make up a pretext to ask a human if the order came through. Of the almost 36 times I’ve gone through this there was only one hiccup on the doc end which was quickly remedied and one hiccup on the pharmacy end which was remedied without harm or foul. It’s just tiresome.

I’ve been thinking of way of being non combative with the doc when I see him in June. It’s difficult. I am not the only combative dancer. I — it’s neither here nor there.

So, I was watching some show through the toes darkly (that’s how I watched it, not the name of the show, though, I suppose, it could be a genre — background sound and vision) some lawyer in Boston dating some plumber in Boston and the conflict was class related.

A lot of things have changed in the America I grew up in to the America that has now faced several economic crisis it hasn’t quite recovered from, lost or are losing most military conflicts (if we don’t count bombing the shit out of Grenada and the first gulf war), that is no longer in the top three in education, health, reticence to publicly execute, infant mortality … shit like that. But, our attitude towards class distinctions remains pretty firm, no matter how much the tea party wants to make poverty and ignorance a virtue. Most americans would say “what class system?” It’s based on Cash, do-ray-mi, long green, benjamins, you know, capitalism.

A great plumber makes a lot more than a shitty lawyer. A good plumber is about even with a good lawyer. See a class structure doesn’t factor in anything higher than breeding. I don’t know what Prince Harry is worth, but if it’s less than Donald trump, Prince Harry is a Prince and Don has to work for a living. The daughter of a duke in some region no one has heard of and where the dukedom has no actual power just a title could be flat broke and yet a thriving proctologist making seven figures a year is beneath her because he has to go up peoples ass for a living and she is the daughter of a duke.

In the short history of mankind, the idea of wooing or courting or marriage for love is relatively new. About as new as the fifty percent divorce rate. It’s a fairytale concept. I am hardly an expert on marriage, though I’ve been in a few, which, in and of itself shows my incompetence. But it seems to me the idea of love doesn’t work out so well. The problem isn’t love itself, again, no expewrt here, it’s that it sets the bar. Passion changes, the bar needs to move accordingly, if it’s the only foundation for the union, well, I think what you get is a fifty percent divorce rate.

You know that stat has to be skewed, right? I mean you can’t take a fiscal year and add up all the marriages and add up all the divorces and conclude fifty percent of all marriages end divorce based solely on that. Not unless you count the marriages from that year that end in divorce that year. I mean in both my divorces I was separated for over three years before divorcing, and married for over a decade each time. Throwing that stat in with the new couples of those years, well, it’s voo doo math.

Shit. Class systems. America. I do get a little edgey on the day of the convoluted script dance, it’s a tad degrading. I mean everyone is polite, and there is the law and everything, but it is inherently a tad degrading and must be a real pain in the ass for people with serious mobility issues.

Oh, I bought my mom a fancy new walker yesterday. The brakes work which is why the other needed replacing. ‘We don’t need no stinking brakes’ wasn’t quite the knee slapper to others as it was to me.

Today I feel particularily weary regarding the doc/pharm dance. It’s bright out there and though the optometrist ruled out physical problems with the eye he did not cure the photo sensitivity. I do have prescription sunglasses, old ones, but they work. It’d be cool to get to test drive the new transitions but they aren’t in yet. My sunglasses are single vision, just the far sighted, good for driving, hard for, I don’t know, seeing the buttons on the music deck or the speedometer. The transitions will be full range.

I know it’s Friday and in theory I should do a flash, and I might, later. I’m just holding down the fort for the sake of tradition. If I’m the only one doing it I can do it any day I want. G was the organizer, brought people together, made links and charts and stuff. My opinion is that it’s a healthy mental writing exercise, I don’t really care if folks participate or not. Hmmm, no, I like seeing participation, just not well enough to do anything about it. To me if the cause doesn’t champion itself to you, I’m the wrong person to champion it for you. Though, I suppose, if someone were to denigrate flash Friday I reckon I would argue fiercely on it’s behalf. How or why that’d happen is beyond me, it’s like that “If someone were to hold a gun to your head …?” that follows ‘would you kiss so and so’ or some other foolishness, I always wonder why a gun to my head for that? The few times guns have been pointed at me it was about something I’d already done or money, never kissing or flashing.

Oh my, I’m so very done.