I worked on Monday for 6 hours, the longest straight time yet. I survived it, albeit with the need for some definite foot, ankle and leg massage. I used Patricia Mary’s suggestion for support knee-highs, and it definitely made a difference. It just squished my toes more than regular socks. Hey! Small price to pay, relative speaking?

I woke up this morning, thinking about humans and work and all the problems in the world. On my last shift, I fiinally met The Boss – the head of the department. We’ll call him L. He seems like a very nice man. Made me think about bosses – thank goodness he isn’t like Franklin Hart and there are no Rozs!

Isn’t that sort of thing a microcosm for the current world’s ills? Putin invades Ukraine, not because he is genuinely worried about little Volodymyr attacking his ever so much larger country. It’s because Volodymyr started out on TV as a comedian actually playing the part of the President of Ukraine. He has the capacity to laugh at life and the job of being in that position. Yes, I said it – the capacity to laugh. Vlad the Invader hates that. When you are capable of keeping things in perspective and finding the humor in it as Zelensky has been able to, creeps like VTA behave like Mike Myers’ Dr. Evil and must crush that happiness. Isn’t that sad? As the late Rodney King once asked, “Can’t we all just get along?”

So the goal for this week is to give out compliments to all my co-workers – and to laugh, appropriately and demurely, of course. Handing out compliments – you know, like Jemaine’s idea to help Bret cheer up in the Bowie episode of Flight of the Conchords, that brilliant, short lived HBO series? I’ll try to refrain from taking up Bowie’s suggestion to Bret that didn’t go so well. No, not the eye patch. If you’ve seen it, you’ll know of what I speak. If you haven’t, find a way to watch it On Demand. It’ll always be there somewhere. Compliments. No eye patch. No waggling. Got it.

I worked Saturday noon to five. No computer training this time, all on the floor. Five hours less a 15 minute break on my feet. They were fine: the ankles were not happy. But a hot shower and footrub helped. I just need to drink more water on the job to keep from getting dehydrated, which leads to foot and leg cramps. Hey, I’m learning!

Speaking of learning, the paint system was down for about half of my shift. From what I was able to glean from other associates making phone calls to HQ, there was a problem with the servers and DNS – does that mean they maybe got hacked? Or maybe it was an update gone wrong. In any event, we had to turn lots of people away until the system was at least partially restored. That’s because the formulae for paint is in the system, and a label must print out in order to know how much of which components go into that shade. It can be manually mixed, but only if the system tells us what to mix. See the codes on the label? But that’s a good thing to know. J says the system only goes down every couple of months or so. Here’s hoping that is so, and I know how to manually mix paint next time it does.

Just finished watching the last episode of Season 2 of All Things Great and Small, a terrific remake of Herriot’s wonderful stories on PBS. It was set at Christmas, with small crises but major togetherness, all combined into a terrific send-off for that season. At the very end, Mrs. Hall looks out the window to see a plane flying over in the snow. This is the verge of World War II, and she has a son out there somewhere that’s of fighting age. I immediately had a flashback to a similar situation we experienced at Christmas in 2007. Here’s what I wrote about it, relative to our son Erik the Younger.

We have Christmas, and I gather as much family as I can to say goodbye before he leaves.  He’s full of stories and pictures of his own – of himself and the guys with whom he will deploy.  It’s a three man unit:  he’s the team leader.  There’s the driver they call Granny because he’s slow and careful.  Then there’s the gunner, an impetuous, somewhat goofy young man.  They nickname him Jethro and, thus, they become Team Bugtussle.  Recall that Bugtussle was the Tennessee home town of the Beverly Hillbillies.  The three of them apparently thought this was funny.

And then it’s done – he and his daughter return north, and the clock starts ticking down to departure day.

I’d been going through the stages of dealing with death & dying that Elizabeth Kubler Ross detailed.  I’d already been through denial, anger and depression.  I was angry at Bush for starting this mess and then for not knowing how to fix it after it broke.  I had a special, burning anger for Dick Cheney, who appeared to mastermind and control the whole debacle.  I was depressed at the prospect of not seeing or hearing from my son for the eight months his deployment is supposed to last. 

Then it was time for some bargaining.  Maybe he’ll get to go somewhere safe and nothing bad will happen.  Four days before he left, he called to tell me he’s going to a place called Rustamaya.  I did some research, and it appeared to be relatively safe, according to the New York Times reporters in Baghdad.  I felt relieved.  Then, two days before deployment, he called again to say Team Bugtussle’s assignment location had changed:  had I ever heard of a place called Sadr City?  Indeed I had.  It was the least safe place in Iraq, along with Basra in the south.  Erik and his little band of brothers would go to Sadr City.  They would return home ten months later, alive but profoundly damaged.

The gunner Jethro killed himself last month.

As we read daily about the potential for a Russian invasion of Ukraine, I think about the folly that was our invasion of Iraq in 2003. Putin mentioned that as some kind of rationalized justification for his own actions. Apparently he didn’t think things through, as he forgot how things turned out for us before we finally left in … 2010, wasn’t it? Things won’t go well for him either. Sorry to end on such a down note, but Good Lord: don’t we ever learn?

I am happy to report that I did survive day 2 with no injuries or incidents. There was a new ‘associate’ whom I shall call M – like the head of Bond’s spy agency – who is a rock star. Really! I guess you could say she’s a retired rock star..wears glitter around her eyes, is funny and quite good at her job. When they say in the ersatz real people videos that the workforce at HD is diverse, they likely have no idea how much so. Who’d a thunk it? A woman who played and sang with a band for thirty years now mixes paint to make ends meet. Gotta luv it.

The new Skechers were a decided improvement over my old ones with the hole above the left big toe. Sister Sharyn suggested wide fit, which should help later on after long hours on the feet. With socks, they are a perfect fit without pinching. I was only vertical for 90 minutes because of more computer stuff, but that’s progress. Recall my goal this week was simply to maintain verticality. I told that to associate I, who assured me that the bosses were very flexible about it if you have to sit down because of the impending threat of a swoon. That was good to hear. I also took snacks and water, which definitely helps. So there’s proof right there I still have the capacity to learn at my advanced age. Who knew?

In the meantime, Is Vlad the Impaler about to become Vlad the Invader? It would appear so. Hangin’ out in that bunker listening to those hawks tell him he’s nyet a man if he doesn’t invade is taking its toll – and Zelensky is beatin’ feet to Munich, so he’s gonna miss the parade!

Kirsten posted on FB about all this resembling the scene in Dr. Strangelove when Turgidson and the Russian ambassador roll around on the floor. “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here – this is the war room.” Classic line, classic movie – and definitely proof that VTI (Vlad the Invader, my new name for Putin) has gone quite bonkers in the bunker. In my comments, I paraphrased Shakespeare’s Richard III, saying ‘he’ll have her but he won’t keep her’. Where’s Charlie Wilson and his RPG’s when you need him? Or for that matter, Osama Bin Laden to lead the mujas to fight the invading horde? And the beat goes on…sigh.

Meanwhile, back at the ol’ homestead, Emily passed her driving test. Congrats to Em! She’ll now be a licensed driver after a trip to the dreaded agency with long lines and that camera that makes anyone look like a goon – or is it a goob? You know what I’m talkin’ about – get out your driver’s license and look at your photo – eh?

That’s all for now – gotta ‘carb up for this afternoon’s efforts, lookin’ at houses in North Palm and doin’ time at the paint palace. Livin’ the life.

My working career began yesterday, with my assigned shift from 2 – 8 PM. The first nearly five hours were just sitting in front of a computer screen, watching attractive allegedly HD employees. They were filling me in on the do’s and don’ts of the job. I heard at least half a dozen times that certain behaviors would lead to ‘disciplinary action, up to and including termination.’ What kinds of infractions? Sexual harassment and chasing shoplifters into the parking lot. It’s highly unlikely I would commit either of these faux pas’, so I guess I am in the clear there.

Now, as to the last hour – it about killed me. Note to self #1: need better shoes. An hour of standing in the paint department with my old Skechers sneakers led to shortness of breath and a near fainting spell. The anti-Covid mask didn’t help. Also, note to self #2: eat lunch before you go to work and take water to stash in the break room. I got low blood sugar and was dehydrated: two very bad things to have at our age, eh? Had to sit down and put my head between my knees.

The paint department is pretty busy, even at night. The evening shift guys whom I’ll call I and J are very nice, helpful and competent. Young. Haven’t met the head of the department yet, but I’m led to believe it’s an older woman, which by their definition probably means she’s 40. Sigh.

So my goal for this week is to maintain my verticality and not pass out, causing some kind of lost time injury that would probably lead to my ‘disciplinary action, up to and including termination.’ Gotta pace myself. Two years of no gym ’cause of Covid means I’m not exactly aerobically fit. But they seem to be understanding of this reality, so maybe I’ll actually survive in the job til week 2. We can only hope.

They called me last Friday afternoon, saying my background check was complete and my history unblemished. I went to Orientation on Saturday, and got my schedule for this week. I work Wednesday, Friday and Saturday afternoons. So I’ll have a total of 20 hours at the end of the week. The max for part time is 27, which suits me just fine.

During Orientation, they showed a video, mostly rah rah stuff about how great the company is. However, there was one caveat: no representing yourself as speaking for HD on social media. So here’s my disclaimer: I DO NOT SPEAK FOR OR REPRESENT ANY INTEREST ASSOCIATED WITH HOME DEPOT. I’M AN ASSOCIATE, SOON TO BE WORKING IN THE PAINT DEPARTMENT. That should keep the lawyers happy.

So now let’s talk about something really important: Ukraine. As my regular readers know, I started writing about Ukraine way back in 2014 when the government was overthrown by the people. Having also included it as part of the plot in Who Killed Kitty Genovese, I was following recent events there with great interest. Kirsten asked me if I thought Russia would invade. My response was anything was possible, but most likely Boris and Joe would find a way for Vlad to save face so he could back down. It appears that may be happening at the moment. I certainly hope so.

What does this mean for the future? I think as long as it’s not Donald the Dope in the Oval Office, Vlad will think twice about trying this stunt again. So it’s really important that even if the next president is a Republican, it can’t be Trump. I know I speak of that which is obvious, but hey – someone has to say it, right?

The only other news on the horizon is Granddaughter Emily taking her driving test this Thursday in Stuart. She’d originally booked an appointment for today, but had to go to Belle Glade to take the test. That was too much for everybody, so instead we made one at a driving school in Stuart for Thursday. Wish her luck.

This morning at 10 AM I will start my new career, allegedly as a paint mixer/sales person at Home Depot. I expect it to be part time at first, but my goal is to try to last at least a year and to learn as much as I can about retail sales. Why? Because I want to write about it on my blog. That’s it, pure and simple. The question is: to Facebook the posts or not? Time will tell. I’ll add more this afternoon.

1:45 PM – I went, I saw, I am pleased. Everyone was super nice. I filled out some paperwork and just got notified via e-mail from the security company that I passed my background check (phew!..nah..I was never worried..but still..??)

So what happens next? I go for my ‘orientation’ with one other person at noon on Saturday and after that I’ll get computer system training for a week, then shadow the gal that runs the department for two weeks. It was clear they don’t just throw you out there on your own at this establishment! The store is clean, well organized, and fully stocked. I’m excited to say I shall soon be part of the Home Depot Jupiter store family.

In 2019, I wrote a series of five books whose titles were taken from the Bible, Chapter 19 of the Book of Matthew. If you went to Sunday School, you probably had the picture of Jesus on the cover of your lesson. It showed him with sheep and goats in the background, welcoming children. Here’s what Matthew, Chapter 19 says:

“But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

The last book borrows from Hinduism and from Hopi mythology in referencing their vision of the end of the word. It’s called Karma and the Fourth World.

The books chronologically depict the fate of the United States over the next decade. You might call it a fever dream; others dystopian. But as my friend Martha asked, “how can you call it dystopian if it’s actually happening?” Dystopian: an imagined state or society in which there is great suffering or injustice, typically one that is totalitarian or post-apocalyptic.

“Typically one that is totalitarian or post-apocalyptic.” Yes, there are elements of both of those realities. But I did not create any scenario that hasn’t already happened or isn’t in the process of happening. Margaret Atwood said something similar about Gilead in The Handmaid’s Tale – a prophecy we’re seeing beginning to play out now in Texas, relative to women and carrying babies – anyone’s babies – to term.

In my books, disintegration happens slowly over a period of five years or so in the latter part of this decade. One unusual man sees bad things happening – specifically to children because of the musings of a demagogue within chat rooms and social media. He steps up and tries to help, only to be manipulated by larger forces within and outside the government. That sets the spark that effectively destroys what we know as these ‘united’ states.

“So,” you ask, “How did you come to write this book?” Ask any author that, and they will labor to explain it to you. But in my experience, books write themselves. I just gave the story a little shove, and then ‘it’ was off to the races, detailing how one thing leads to another, and then..well, I won’t give away the ending, but everything that happens is not only logical, but probable. Ask Martha.

“OK,” you say, getting a little frustrated with me. “WHY did you write this book?” Are you some kind of ‘Oracle Jones’, soothsaying into the future? I didn’t think so at the time. Trust me, nobody is more freaked out than me when the things in that book start to materialize. Now, I did not predict a pandemic until much later in the story. But that’s secondary to the point. The entirety of the series is about the breakdown of order in our society.

Most books from this genre start with what happens after the ‘end’, and do a poor job of detailing how we got there. I always found that rather annoying. Nuclear war; some kind of solar flare, climate change, even zombies (how did they BECOME zombies?) usually start the story. But I start with an ordinary family on an ordinary day contemplating the unthinkable because of one thing: fear. FEAR. Say it again, y’all: fear.

It seems like these days we have a lot to fear, but elements from organized and social media like to exploit that emotion – for ratings or some other kind of gratification. This has led to the worsening of tribalization and alienation: failure to trust one another or our institutions. We certainly have seen that in spades relative to Covid, the election, the economy. Fear of dying; fear that ‘the wrong team’ won, fear of destitution: but the greatest fear of these is another: fear of the unknown. Fear of losing control over our lives. The frustration of seeing a gallon of gas increase in cost by a third in just a few months. My children may have to move because their rent will increase by 50% when they renew their lease. This isn’t ordinary inflation, in my opinion. It’s the end of the era of low inflation. Hate to take credit for it, but I’ve been predicting that for the past ten years..it was inevitable..too many dollars chasing too few goods.

So am I telling you all this just to hype my book? Maybe – partially – but there’s more, as infomercials always say. In some strange way, I take comfort in the supposition that this inchoate fear will no longer be undefined by the end of the decade. It will be realized in a very new reality. At least we’ll know where we stand then.

Oh, by the way, I’m working on a sequel. It’s too early to talk about – I’ve just written the first book and halfway through the second in what will likely be a series of just three this time. So my point is: life will go on. Differently, with a whole different set of issues than what we have to deal with now. But it will go on. And the things we worry about now will seem trivial then. You might not, but I take solace from that fact.

I never heard back from the woman again. So the next time the School District complains they can’t get any help, think about my experience – and don’t bother to apply.

I added a new Spam filter to the blog and it works! In the past week, there have been 47 attempts to infiltrate my blog with weird advertisements, many from China. The new filter sweeps them up and dumps them into one folder which can be easily emptied. I used to have to wade through and pick them out one at a time. This is great.

So where am I with my writing? Well, let’s see..The Algorithmic Brain is long since finished, with tiny edits as I share it chapter by chapter with my writing group. Then there’s The Cheese Stands Alone. I’m up to Chapter 14, with an expectation that I’m about half done. So that makes for another 28 chapter book, which seems to be my rhythm. I have not yet begun with my outline for It’s the Young Ones Ya Gotta Watch, which I believe will be a short story to put in the 7/17/71 folder to be published as an anthology of Kiernan, Emily and my writing. I’m thinking about the outline for the sequel to The Algorithmic Brain, which will be called The Algorithmic Brain Goes Back (Be Careful What you Wish For). What happened to The Reconvening, you ask? It’s up to Book 2, Chapter 6, with an outline to show where it should go. It’s my least favorite writing, so it’s slow going. I shall pick it up again when there’s time to concentrate.

Time? Well, with Kiernan coming quite often for school, time is a little bit limited, which should make me more efficient in its use. You’d think – but no. When you are retired, the use of time changes, so it’s necessary to pick a rhythm, and then vary it. Why? You become stuck if you don’t. Is that bad? Yes..I think that contributes to brain deterioration, and my brain is doing enough on its own so…

Otherwise, it’s just carry on and try to get some work done before she comes over and I get sucked into the world of virtual learning. It’s never dull ’round here!

Yesterday morning I got a voicemail message at 8:16 am from Amanda, the manager of the cafeteria at Limestone Creek. She offered me a 4 hour per day job with the school food service department. Promising to call me back with the proper job application code, she welcomed me to the team.

I guess buying the apron was a good investment, eh?

Now I have to think more about time utilization, assuming I make it through the hiring process. Four hours a day feels doable, so it’s a start toward a new career path that fits with my other vocation. I think it will be good exercise too.

Emily came yesterday and finished her last practice test before taking the official GED exam. She will take the first of the four tomorrow afternoon. She’s starting with Language Arts, which should be her strongest subject. I’m confident she’ll pass them all, in preparation for starting at Palm Beach State College in the spring. That’s so great.

In the interim, we still need to figure out about Covid and Kiernan and vaccination. It’s supposed to be ready in a few weeks. Will she get the vaccine? Will there be side effects? Will she stay with virtual school? All issues that will need discussion and decisions. Ah, me. Remember when life was so much simpler – like in 2019?

I had my interview – of sorts – yesterday. She didn’t really ask me anything, just wanted to know if I had any questions. Does that mean it’s a given I’ll be hired? Or does it mean a pro forma interview but there’s no way they would hire me in a million years? That is the essential question.

She did point out that it takes a month to get hired; that you have to be able to lift 40 pounds (I used to lift Kiernan when she weighed 42# per the Publix big scale in the lobby..?), pass a background check, buy no-slip soled black shoes, black pants and black t-shirts which is the uniform. Gee, how colorful! I guess stains don’t show, but seems like it should be like the pediatric ward at the hospital. Uniforms with Pokemon? Wait – I know – black uniform is fine, but flexibility with aprons? That’s where Pokemon can make his appearance – or maybe Sonic the Hedgehog or a Minecraft cow? Plain white apron with decals? Worth exploring? Absolutely.

Ok, so I went ahead and ordered the apron from Etsy. That’s a vote of confidence that they’re so desperate for help that they might even hire me. After all, I showed up, on time, didn’t have two heads or roll on the floor, frothing at the mouth. I didn’t talk too much (self-coaching there) and I agreed that I wanted to pursue being hired. What else could I have done? I didn’t mention the writing part (see previous post re: Pandora papers). I was humble, pointing out that it wasn’t a question of the job being less than what I could do, but rather expressing my concern that maybe I wasn’t good enough for them. And if I don’t get the job, at least Kiernan will like the apron, her being a big fan of Pikachu (that’s that rabbit on the front – I guess he’s a rabbit..sigh.)

OK – enough on that for now. No debt ceiling crisis at least until the end of the year. Ho hum. I really don’t want to talk about Washington and/or politics. Instead, let’s talk about something really interesting: um..yeah. Cryptic crosswords!

I signed up with a site that provides a new cryptic a week. It was highlighted last week in the puzzle section of the NY Times, and for $48, I get a new puzzle each week that’s just challenging enough to make it worthwhile – plus access to the previous 79 puzzles in their archive. So far, I’ve been able to solve them all, with a little help from WordPlays, but only indirectly. Two guys create the puzzles and run the site. They seem very pleasant, and one of them responded to my e-mail, complimenting them on getting onto the NY Times puzzle page and saying I enjoyed the puzzle. Great fun. I know – ho hum..

The writing is going well..I’m on Chapter 12 of The Cheese Stands Alone, and Book 2, Chapter 6 of The Reconvening. I’m ready to start on the outline for the parody of Covid vaccine wars, and, of course, The Algorithmic Brain is finished and partially uploaded to Kindle Vella. So the only big writing issue now is getting Emily to finish working with me on the story set in Siberia called Permafrost Hell. Everyone loves a monster story, right?

That’s it for today – other issues to worry about.