11/23/24

 Saturday, November 23, 2024

D+18

1963 Following the protocol after Abraham Lincoln's death, JFK's body lay in repose in the East Room of the White House and was viewed by officials and heads of state 

In bed at 8:45, awake around 3:15, and up at 3:35 to load the dishwasher, light a log, etc. Lilly showed up precisely at 6 a.m. for her first outing, with much hesitation before stepping out from the doorway.  At 6:15, she started loud barking in the living room, probably at whitetail, a tom turkey, or perhaps a coyote on the prowl in our front yard. 

Prednisone, day 193, 7.5 mg., day 9.   Prednisone at 5:10 with some Irish soda bread.  Morning meds at 6:20.  Both shoulders with normal soreness.  Ditto the right side of my mid-back.

Losing interest in the news.  Something has happened to me over the last few months: I've lost interest in the news.  It must have started sometime before Labor Day weekend which is when I stopped watching cable, broadcast, and local television news.  I do watch PBS Newshour regularly and parts of some opinion programs on MSNBC (some Rachel Maddow, some Lawrence O'Donnell and, since Trump's reelection, I watch some cable news, but nothing like the amount of viewing I did before Labor Day.  Additionally, I've noticed that I pass over most articles in the newspapers and magazines I purport to read: the New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, JSOnline, The Atlantic, and The New Yorker. Few articles pique my interest enough to go beyond the headline or the blurb beneath the headline.  For much of my life, I was a fairly voracious consumer of whatever newspaper editors and television producers were putting out.  No more.  Years ago I read some Dorothy Sayers mysteries featuring Lord Peter Wimsey.  Lord Peter used to refer to his newspapers as "the daily twaddle" or "the daily drivel."  TV producers need to fill air time and newspaper editors need to fill column inches and much of what they put out serves only that purpose.  Why did I waste so much of my life on their output?  I suppose I was engaging in my own form of filling airtime or column inches.  I'm also listening to more articles now, rather than reading them.  My ability to focus my eyes is increasingly impaired, affecting not only my ability to read print media but also my ability to paint.  I appreciate media that offer audio renditions of articles for 'readers' like me.  I wonder whether this will become a standard offering with the growth of AI and automated voices.  Why do I bother to write stuff like this?  What else does one do in the middle of the night when reading and painting are challenges, there is no laundry to do, the dishwasher is loaded and running, and the kitchen counters are cleaned?

Thoughts on Trump's Reelection and Impending Inauguration:

America was having trouble, what a sad, sad story

Needed a new leader to restore its former glory

Where, oh where was he?

Where could that man be?

We looked around and then we found

The man for you and me and now it's

Springtime for Donald and America

Americs is happy and gay

We're marching to a faster pace

Look out, here comes the master race!

Springtime for Donald and America

Winter for Europe and China

Springtime for Donald and America

Come on, Trumpies, go into your dance!

Pace Mel Brooks.

Yesterday when I was young

The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue

I teased at life as if it were a foolish game

The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame

The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splendid things I planned

I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand

I lived by night and shunned the naked light of day

And only now I see how the years ran away

Yesterday, when I was young

So many drinking songs were waiting to be sung

So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me

And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see

I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out

I never stopped to think what life was all about

And every conversation I can now recall

Concerned itself with me, me and nothing else at all

Yesterday the moon was blue

And every crazy day brought something new to do

I used my magic age as if it were a wand

And never saw the waste and emptiness beyond

The game of love I played with arrogance and pride

And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died

The friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away

And only I am left on stage to end the play

 

When-when I was younger, so much younger than today

I never needed anybody's help in any way

But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured

Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down

And I do appreciate you being 'round

Help me get my feet back on the ground

Won't you please, please help me?

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways

My independence seems to vanish in the haze

But every now and then I feel so insecure

I know that I just need you like I've never done before

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down

And I do appreciate you being 'round

Help me get my feet back on the ground

Won't you please, please help me?

God bless David who came over this morning, helped Geri trim Lilly's nails, and climbed a ladder to clear out our gutters.

One of my favorite drawings, done several years ago, hanging in the TV room.