Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

I’m sitting outside on the gazebo. The air is very still for this time of year. Off to one side the lights of Tucson are twinkling in the distance, off to my right I can see the flashes of an approaching airliner in the sky and the flashing red light atop a tower on Mt. Lemmon. The air is pleasant and I’m finding this experience calming,

This past weekend we attended the 2023 Tucson Pride Parade. This was our first time going to the Pride parade her in the Old Pueblo, and it was an impressive affair. The parade was held Friday night and lasted for about 20 minutes. There were several groups of individuals of all persuasions, interspersed with commercial groups celebrating the diversity of their team members. The crowds along the parade route were small but well established. It was a fun time.

Sitting in the dark and seeing the twinkling lights of the city in the distance, it makes me realize how many folks out there amongst the glow of the streetlamps actually live in the area. At last count, there’s just under 543,000 people living in the city limits; we rank 33rd in city since in the United States.

Tucson is the biggest small town I’ve ever seen.

As the second largest city in Arizona, Tucson’s claim to fame is that we’re not Phoenix. While I grew up in a very small town, lived in cities a varying sizes along the way, and having lived in Chicago before moving to Tucson, there has been a bit of an adjustment for me when it comes to recreational opportunities, the size of the gay community, and the resources available here. Ranking 33rd in the country isn’t shabby, however, what was available 24/7 in Chicago is closed up by 10:00 p.m. here in the desert. I sometimes wonder if the pandemic had something to do with that. When we visit Phoenix (about two hours away) and drive around to find all night diners and the like, things are not as plentiful as Chicago, even though the Phoenix metro area is in the top 10 in the United States.

I like the quiet and stillness of this Wednesday night here in the Old Pueblo. I can’t believe we’ve been here for two and a half years. It seems like just yesterday we had Truman loaded up in the car as we made our way across the country to relocate down here.

I would have never found this quiet and contemplative atmosphere in Chicago.

Perhaps being in a mid-sized city in the United States has everything I need after all.

Years ago my husband and I attended a lecture hosted by our local (at the time) NPR station. The speaker was Diane Rehm, journalist and talk show host. This appearance was about 10 years before her final broadcast of “The Diane Rehm Show”.

One of the topics Ms. Rehm focused on was the importance of listening. Even back in the mid ‘00s, people were getting in the habit of talking a lot but not really listening. Twenty years later, things are worse than ever, but the incessant talking has been replaced by incessant shouting. There’s a lot of shouting these days.

I don’t find it enjoyable.

I will admit that I am a terrible listener. My husband often attributes this trait to the fact that I don’t like “dead air”. As a former radio broadcaster, dead air is deadly, and I can think of less than three occasions where I had dead air during one of my air shifts. He thinks I need to fill the dead air and that’s why I talk when I should be listening.

The truth is, I talk when I listen because it’s my way of understanding the context of what’s being told to me. My memory, which I can confidently say is “above average”, works best when I relate something being told to me to something personal. This usually ends up with me recounting my own personal experience in what I perceive to be a similar situation. It’s my way of saying, “I understand”, but to those who don’t understand the way I process information, it sounds like I’m making the given situation all about me. I am, but for my own purposes, not to one-up or outshine the person speaking to me.

I’m trying hard to find quieter ways of understanding this information.

With all the chaos going on in the U.S. Government these days, and lately it seems to be a lot more than normal even in these elevated times, I can’t help but think we’d all be the better for it if our elected officials just stopped hollering and trying to grab the spotlight by being the most outrageous and just started listening to one another.

If I can try to be a better listener, I certainly expect our elected officials to try to be better listeners as well.

But we know that’s not going to happen.

So when election time comes, I’m going to look for the person that demonstrates they can listen. Because listening can often lead to a civil discussion.

Unless the record has ended before you’ve had the next chance to start the next song on your air shift.

I am a fan of the podcasts from RelayFM. Since 2019 they have been raising money for St. Jude, and every September they have a fund raising drive.

Please take a moment to contribute to this important cause at https://stjude.org/relay. There’s still time to become part of this month’s drive.

Chris made some Mexican Street Corn soup for supper the other night. It was a great appetizer for the main dish. I’m always impressed with my family’s eye on presentation as well as taste.

Last night I made Cincinnati Chili for supper. Well, actually my husband and I made it together, because I’m never trusted by anyone to go solo in the kitchen. The chili turned out very good though I neglected to take a photo for the blog.

We served the chili over spaghetti and topped it with cheese and onions. I didn’t provide oyster crackers though, I’ll need to do that on a future serving.

I went flying this past weekend with an instructor to finish my checkout for the flight club in the Cessna 182. It was a great flight. I had to do a few landings under various simulated conditions and that was fun. I like expanding my aviation skills through these things.

I didn’t know there had been another fire on Mt. Lemmon so we had to get back and forth through Redington Pass before 08:00 or else we would have had to come back to Tucson Airport the long way around the mountains. Apparently the fire was extinguished quickly.

I’m all checked out in the Cessna 182 and now my husband and I can go up together and get around the skies a little bit faster and with someone in the backseat if we want.

My journaling app (Day One) has an “On this day…” feature that I really enjoy. It allows me to look back to see how much progress I’ve made on my personal goals and how much I have (or haven’t) changed over the years. It presents little snippets I wrote on this date across the 15 years I’ve maintained this personal journal and most of the time sparks pleasant memories.

Today a few entries from 2019 popped up relating to interactions on Social Media, mainly some things there were bothering me about recent Facebook posts. In these old entries I vaguely mentioned some Facebook Messenger messages I had received. Not remembering the interaction, I decided to spin through my Facebook Messenger feed from 2019, which of course was quite easy to do because Facebook never deletes anything.

It was all about the latest scandal farting out of the Trump presidency at the time and the Facebook friends piling on relatives that supported Trump. I had decided to remove the discourse altogether, as there were aunts and cousins having fits about those I call friends and I just didn’t want to be part of that. I severed relations with some of the folks over that day and had Day One not reminded me about it, I probably wouldn’t have remembered the specific events. I have an iron clad memory and often remember things I won’t ever need or don’t think I even remember, but if I purposely forget something, it’s gone.

With the U.S. Government in general continuing to be a colossal disappointment and the media trying to whip the country up in a frenzy over an election that is over 14 months away, I’m not looking forward to our choices in November 2024. I burned way too much emotional capital over the Trump years. Quite frankly, I’m tired. I am so. friggin. tired.

To be honest, I’m tired of social media in general. I’ve been dabbling in Twitter a little bit for some aviation interaction. I’m on Mastodon but the vibe there is often how to do Mastodon correctly without triggering everyone over a photo of a plate of spaghetti or something. I don’t really know what Blue Sky is trying to be and quite frankly I’ve lost track of Threads.

I guess I just don’t care to interact with people that way at the moment. And that’s fine.

When I hear things like “you have to vote like your life depends on it, so we can save the world”, I’m at the point of thinking, “meh, if I’m lucky I have around 30 years left. I can ride out 30 years”.

Ah, “but what about the children?”, folks ask.

I ask, “why are folks having children?”. Do we really need more people on this overtaxed planet? Does the future look bright and rosy for Gen Z and whatever is suppose to come after them?

Wow, this blog entry turned dark. I don’t think that was the intent of my “On this day…” function in Day One.

Let’s see what I wrote in this blog back on this day in 2019. I wrote about the LED streetlights in Chicago.

Four years ago tomorrow I wrote a little bit about the election.

I guess the times ain’t changing that much.