Sweating in SoCal

If I were reading a blog post after years of silence from the author, I would expect a good explanation of the intervening time. Well, here’s the thing…

Life has mostly just gone on for me as it has for the rest of you. Work, weekends, family, growing older, Covid, the world burning, flooding, and drying out — somehow all at the same time.

[sfx: loud sound of knocking on wood to distract evil spirits] My family is well. My children are 11 and 13. My husband and I still work at our jobs as a math and English teacher respectively.

I can’t really share details of my daughters’ lives because they’re their own people and they value their privacy. I will say this: Two children can come out of your body and grow up in the same house and still be so different from each other it boggles the mind. And a 13 year-old can be taller than her mother. Who is NOT short.

Here is what is on my mind today. I watched episode 3 of House of the Dragon (HBO) last night. In the first few minutes, an anonymous citizen is being nailed to a post to be eaten alive by crabs. The villain is known as “the crab feeder” owing to this brutal practice. Alas! Overhead the nameless man sees his deliverance! Prince Daemon on dragonback, strafing the enemy with dragon fire. He joyously calls out to his prince to save him. The prince doesn’t see him. In fact, when Prince Daemon lands his giant mount, the man is crushed underfoot without a thought.

Why is this on my mind? Because it’s a metaphor for all people who suffer while the truly powerful fight their petty battles for power and gold. Who gives a shit which pampered, powdered aristocrat inherits the Iron Throne when we’re being eaten by crabs or burned alive by dragons?

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I’m engaged in current events. As we burn up in our 107 degree heat wave, praying that wildfires and mudslides will pass us over this year, it’s hard not to feel like that Westerosi peasant who had no time to be thankful that an indifferent dragonfoot saved him from a slow agonizing death. Sometimes it feels like we’re all waiting to see if we perish from intentional cruelty or from indifferent neglect.

So, that’s the main thing… How are you?

Posted in Essays/Commentary | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Well, that was a terrible idea

It’s been a minute. I hope some of you are still out there. Everything is good now, but what a rough couple years. For all of us.

My kids are 11 and 13 now, and they would murder me (with pain) if I wrote about them.

My writing leans now toward my passions: TV shows, education, and philosophy — all with a humorous twist. At least one hopes.

Come back in a day or so for a full post, okay?

See you soon.

Posted in Essays/Commentary | 11 Comments