Ponderings and Musings

In 1975, Saturday morning cartoons featured a partially live action show from Filmation called “The Secret Lives Of Waldo Kitty”. The star of the show, Waldo, is shown in his live action form in the photo above.

Based on “The Secret Lives of Walter Mitty”, Waldo Kitty delighted my sister and me as we watched it on our black and white television set in our mobile home sitting in the middle of a cattle pasture.

Shortly after the premiere of this show we adopted a kitten and promptly named him Waldo, as he very much resembled the live action star of his namesake television show. Waldo was a part of the family, and treated as the “king cat” amongst the number of cats to come and go in our household, for many years. I believe Waldo moved on to his great reward in 1989.

He was a big cat. We didn’t get him fixed until we was six or so years old, so he had this nifty bass-voice “meow” when he decided to speak. A couple of times he disappeared for a week or two at a time. Months later there’d be kittens all over the place from the ladies that swooned over Waldo and he’d feel smug. After he was fixed his voice stayed low and he napped a lot. He’s the only cat that would be allowed to stay inside at night; the others would sleep in the garage. Dad would leave the garage door open a small gap so the cats could get in from the Great Lakes snowbelt we lived in.

Waldo took a strong liking to my sister and while he’d lay around with me, if my sister was in the room he’d relocate himself near her. I was fine with that. I laid claim to one of the cats in his harem, namely a long haired black cat we called Cinders, and their offspring “Half Pint” who had the markings of both Waldo and Cinders. Looking back they probably weren’t related but they looked the part so we went with it.

Cinders liked to chew on the strings of Christmas lights I put all over the house and greenery at the appropriate time of year. She actually chewed through the wires on more than one occasion. I remember her shorting out a brand new string of 35 lights purchased at the Rite Aid for $1.99. She had a kitten we named Leo until Leo had kittens and then she became Leona. I mistakenly ran over her tail with the car and it hung limp for a few weeks and then it just fell off. She survived just fine with just a stump of a tail and the vet didn’t find anything wrong after it literally fell off her body.

Truman reminds me of Waldo in attitude. Maybe it’s a ginger cat sort of thing. He enjoys my company on his terms and he’s always grateful for food and treats, but sometimes he wants to relax in close proximity, not near me.

I guess all us gingers are alike.

I don’t get ASMR. If you’re not familiar with ASMR, it stands for Autonomous sensory meridian response. You can read more here.

ASMR videos are all over YouTube. People basically whisper a regular type of activity in a certain way to evoke these tingling sensations for the listener. The enhanced focus on background and activity noises, coupled with the whispering, is suppose to make the listener feel good.

I’ve tried it a few times and I have felt no such response. If anything, I’ve found it irritating.

If other folks find it soothing and exciting and that it evokes tingling sensations I say have at it. In 2020 we need all the help we can get. I stumbled upon an ASMR video where a man was whispering his way through making a cake but he had a parrot or some other exotic bird making wild screeching noises in the background. I don’t think it’s suppose to work this way.

What does give me these tingling sensations I read about around ASMR is actually watching someone get a head massage. I’ve watched a few barbershop videos where a man is shaved by a barber with a straight razor and the barber massages the customer’s head at the end of the video. That gives me a tingling sensation in my head and I have no idea why. I think it’s because I’ve experienced the same sort of thing once in a while over the years and my brain is like, “hey yeah, that’s awesome!”. With COVID-19 being all the rage I don’t think I’m going to be in the situation to get a head massage after a barbershop shave anytime soon.

So I don’t get ASMR but I do get head massages for the tingles. Whatever floats your boat, right?

The remnants of Tropical Storm Christobel blew through the Midwest last night. We had some impressive wind and heavy rain but not much in the way of thunderstorms. The south side of Chicago and adjacent Indiana were under a tornado warning for a bit.

We have more stormy weather predicted for today. I can’t fly in this type of weather but I sure do enjoy watching and following the adventure. I have always enjoyed spring and summer thunderstorms. These days they rarely pan out to be as startling or severe as predicted. I know I’m older but I preferred the days when we didn’t really know what was coming and then we’d get startled awake by thunderclaps in the middle of the night.

Good times.

I sometimes mention that I’m cheering on the arrival of an asteroid. I really big asteroid. Given the choice this coming for November I’d probably vote for the asteroid.

Let me be clear, I’m not looking for an E.L.E., or Extinction Level Event. I don’t feel the need to do the dinosaur.

I just want an asteroid to pass by so close that it makes a really loud noise, the clouds get whipped around a bit, there’s some stronger than normal winds, and most importantly, the collective attention of humans is turned toward the Universe. I want a reminder of our place in the vastness of the cosmos. I want us to reset our perspective.

My husband and I were out for a walk this past weekend; we passed by several restaurants in the neighborhood that were opening up in a limited capacity. The current Chicago guidelines indicate social distancing measures, mask requirements, and table location requirements, namely that guests be seated in an outdoor or open air area. My husband and I, being middle aged guys at the moment, both needed to use the washroom and it was lunch time, so I hesitantly suggested we support a local business and eat at one of these newly opened restaurants.

The interior of the restaurant was cleared of tables. A space on the patio that would normally hold a dozen tables had seating for four different parties up to four individuals each. Everyone inside was wearing a mask, menus have been converted to paper editions, and there were cleaning supplies and hand sanitizer stations everywhere. Honestly, we both still feel rather uncomfortable with the idea of eating in public at the moment but we thought we’d give it a try.

The seating and server staff were fantastic. Social distancing was maintained, masks were worn properly, and it was obvious the team was going to extra mile to make sure everything was as clean as possible.

While we were eating a family of four parked their bicycles on the sidewalk out front and headed into the restaurant. They were loud and they had no masks on. Two of the kids started running around the place, and the apparent father made no effort to curb their behavior. One other party was at one of the four or five tables, so the hostess tried to seat them at a table away from the seated parties. The father wanted a different table in the corner and he insisted so they cleaned it up and over they went.

Not two minutes later the father decided they needed a different table, so he and the family went walking around, again without any sort of masks, and asked to be seated at a different table. The hostess was accommodating; they were reseated and the cleaning crew came in to sanitize the table they had just occupied.

The father then went out on the sidewalk to talk loudly on his phone; the kids ordered drinks and were making a bit of a ruckus at the table. A few moments later the father started eyeing a third table farther away from the hostess station, but then decided against relocating. Another phone call, he stepped away, and then he came back in and gathered everyone up and left the restaurant. Loudly.

The cleaning crew came in again and sanitized the second table, threw out the menus they had fondled, and tried to straighten up the place. The hostess ran to the back to cancel the drink order.

How rude.

I was hopeful that a Global Pandemic forcing us all to be responsible to quarantine and the like would help us re-evaluate our priorities and give us a sense of perspective. I know that I felt guilty the entire time we sat in that restaurant, as if it is much too early in this experience to be doing such a thing, and we decided that we’ll hold off before going out to eat again.

However, my concerns were confirmed; there are many that don’t want to embrace, encourage, or consider any sort of “new normal”. They want to go back to the selfish, immediate, hectic pace of life before the pandemic, and they’re not going to be happy until they can build the world in their image again.

I resolve this realization by imaging that asteroid swooping by, parting the clouds a bit, and forcing people into their homes. My imagination may be a little warped with this approach but it gives me comfort.

Every living thing known in the history of this planet has been on that Blue Dot shown in the photo above. We need to start realizing how insignificant we really are.

I enjoyed a bike ride today. It’s been a couple of weeks since my last bike ride, but the weather was beautiful and I was wanted to see how this fine city was holding up.

It’s holding up very well.

There were several cyclists on the street; a particular group was passing the other direction on Halsted. We were waiting at opposite corners when one of them called out to me and simply called me “Grandpa”.

This got my introspective side going, so I put together some thoughts.

To the young man in Boystown who felt it was prudent to shout “Grandpa” at me as I waited for the light on Halsted to turn green so I could continue my bike ride: THANK YOU. Your comment and observation prompted me to be reflective for the remainder of my ride. Now, I realize my 24-speed bike was built in 1999 and that my cycling garb is probably equally as old, all from before when you were born. Did you know that bike has over 20K miles on it? I have socks that show above the ankles and a handkerchief under my helmet to guard my aging bald head from the sun. But I’m thankful: I’ve survived spinal meningitis, had my “plumbing” replaced, and luckily have had no other close calls with death. I’ve been happily, actually blissfully married for nearly a quarter of a century. I have an unbelievable family, chosen, biological, and through marriage, that have shown me love I still can’t believe I’m worthy of. I can fly aircraft above the planet where there’s no borders, no boundaries, and no petty differences over skin color. I’ve shaken hands with CEOs of the biggest computer companies in the world, sang with Top 40 bands while hanging out in a bar in New Orleans, swam in three of the five Great Lakes, two oceans, been off my home continent, and been to cities where I didn’t speak the language. I’ve driven 15 hours to buy my husband an ice cream cone. I’ve lived where I’ve wanted to live, and have always found life where I looked for it. I’ve watched buildings fall down and others rise up. I’ve seen peace and have volunteered for war, only to be told I wasn’t the “right kind”. I’ve worked hard at minimum wage and I’ve worked hard at a very comfortable wage. I’ve watched friends die of AIDS and HIV and I’ve spray painted SILENCE = DEATH on sidewalks while your parents were probably still watching Barney. I’ve marched in parades and attended rallies so others could dance in the street holding hands with the ones they love. I’ve tried things Dr. Ruth would endorse with a standing ovation. I’ve strongly advocated for the less fortunate and been advocated for by people who strongly cared. I’ve been hugged at my job for being who I am and I’ve been threatened with a gunshot between the eyes for being who I am, yet here I am as I am. tl;dr? I’VE LIVED LIFE. Thank you for calling me, while nearing my 52nd birthday, Grandpa. While I have no grandchildren (the closest thing is a pineapple shark), I’m at the best point ever in my life and I’m proud of how I got here. Thank you for reminding me of how great I have it.

We have five months until the next Presidential Election. Like each season of “American Idol” being the best talent ever, this next Presidential Election is the most important election here in the United States of our lifetime. Except this is not a marketing ploy. We’ve been hearing about this 2020 election since the 2016 election. Usually I’d be sick of hearing about presidential candidates by now but they’re barely mentioned in the news cycle; there’s just too much chaos going on.

I currently believe we have a 50/50 chance of making it as a country until November. I’m surprised the folks that make the decision about the Doomsday Clock haven’t reconvened out of cycle and shoved that sucker even more perilously closer to midnight.

When I was back in high school learning about history we’d never get much beyond the very beginning of the 20th century. We’d run out of time before we had to cram for New York State Regents Exams, so we never really learned about the Korean War, the Vietnam War, or the racial divisions that plagued much of that century. I know there was a lot of societal upheaval in the year I was born but I don’t know the details. I feel that I’ve failed in not feeling motivated to learn more as an adult. I need to rectify that situation.

As bad as I sensed the late 1960s were I feel like what we’re experiencing here and now is just as bad as it was back then. It is different, but in too many ways it’s also the same.

Side note: I’m sitting on our balcony typing this and noticing a lot of helicopters are heading toward the south side of the city. I was hoping the relative calm vibe of today would pervade but I have a feeling something big is going on again.

I guess I was of the mindset that blatant racism would die off as older generations passed on. It’s apparent that I was wrong with that thinking; racism has been successfully passed on from generation to generation and unfortunately this is evident with who have been elected to positions in our government and the approach many take toward their fellow men and women.

I really hope we make it to the November elections and I doubly hope that the right choice is made at the voting booth. Since I’m on the fence as to whether we’ll make it through the end of 2020, I sure as hell know we don’t have a chance of surviving four more years of whatever this is we have today.

I was up at my usual time this morning to go for a walk. The curfew here in Chicago ended at 6:00 a.m. today, so I figured it’d be safe to go out and get some exercise before diving into the workday later this morning.

As soon as I went outside I instantly noticed how quiet the streets were today. Both the CTA’s ‘L’ and the METRA commuter rail run through our neighborhood and neither are operating with any sort of regularity. Westbound landings into O’Hare fly directly overhead as well and of course there’s been a huge reduction of flights since the pandemic took over the world.

Before going to bed last night I noticed in the distance several helicopters hovering over the Loop to the apparent northeast of the Sears Tower. There are no helicopters this morning.

The neighborhood is eerily quiet this morning. Even noticeably more so than when the quarantine started back in March. I think it’s the lack of the rumble of the ‘L’ that’s the most noticeable. Every once in a while I can hear an announcement being blared out on the loudspeakers but I can’t ever make out what they’re saying, even if I’m standing on the platform. Some folks feel the need to yell into the microphone.

I’m so very tired, especially of the woes and injustices plaguing American society. I hope and pray that the rest of the world isn’t like this. I know there’s places in much worse shape than the United States right now, I hope there are places that are in better shape as well. We can do better than this.

We must do better than this.

When society didn’t listen and/or instead clutched their pearls because football players took a knee during the National Anthem, I totally get why people would be pushed to the point of outrage that we’re seeing this weekend. Now, this doesn’t mean I think everyone should go out and start smashing windows and grabbing anything they can get their hands on, but it does mean that I hear them, I get it, and most importantly things need to change.

Perhaps if we stopped judging and started listening we could start moving in a positive direction again.

This COVID-19 pandemic has given us the opportunity to slow down and reflect on our own priorities. I know I’ve been much more reflective and there are some aspects of pandemic life that I’m actually enjoying. We eat at home more, we’re spending more time together, I cherish family time, and I’ve been in more consistent contact with my family back East.

This readjustment of life has also given me a better perspective of life in Chicago. Is The Windy City as appealing when everything is closed down? Are summers as memorable when there’s no street fairs, no block parties, or no rides on a boat on the Lake?

Life is what you make of it.

I’m not willing to risk my health or the health of my family just to sit in a corner pub to eat some grub and have some drinks. I value my life, and the life of those I love, more than that. Yes, I would be happy if my husband would finally get a haircut, but I don’t want him to contract Coronavirus just to have shorter hair. We’ll get through and maybe one of these days he’ll actually let me near his head with my Oster 76 clippers.

I don’t like seeing my airline pilots friend out of work. It breaks my heart. But I have to admit I’m not sad about less pollution in the air. Does everyone need to fly everywhere? It’s nice to travel to far off places but in most cases it’s not necessary.

Maybe if we start seeing this pandemic as an opportunity to slow down and take stock of our priorities we’ll find some good and learn something along the way.

I know this experience has changed me. If anything, I hope it’s made me a better person.

There are people working everyday at the local elementary school. For the past 60+ days I’ve noticed March events on the marquee. I guess they’re too busy cleaning the building to share well wishes or even a blank message on the sign.

The lingering messages of events in March are a reminder of what was and what is now.