this crappy year – Page 2 – A Jaunty Little Blog

July 22, 2020July 22, 2020

Secret Federal Police Squads Making Trouble

Friends,

Remember back when rolling out a secret Federal police force in the United States was illegal? Get this, it still is! The super fun part is that the current president has done it anyway. But why?

The narrative on the pro-fascism media is that the protests against police brutality targeting Black and brown people aren’t largely peaceful, but “destroying our cities.” This leads to chaos, which leads to anarchy, which leads to the unraveling of the social fabric, etc, rinse, repeat.

They play the scenes of a police station and a Wendy’s burning down over and over again to prove to their viewers that society is crumbling and lo! the president steps in to rescue us from societal collapse! Aren’t we fortunate!

The justification that the acting administrators (Ken Cuccinelli and Chad Wolf, who are political hacks who haven’t been confirmed by the Senate because even Mitch McConnell has *some* standards) have offered seem to change by the hour. The latest, and arguably more egregious than “proactive arrests” is to “teach them a lesson.” That said, this will make your skin crawl…

Acting DHS secretary says federal agents are "proactively" arresting people in Portland. pic.twitter.com/cU1zw0IChz

— TPM Livewire (@TPMLiveWire) July 22, 2020

So here we are. A failed game show host in hock up to his eyeballs to foreign interests has gone full rogue and made a play for the elderly white people already afraid to step outside because of the pandemic: Society would be in ruins if it weren’t for his tiny iron fist.

It’d be a pathetic and transparent play if consumers of the state media outlets took a moment to come up for air, which I don’t see happening until 2021.

Your best pal,

– bob

P.S. Is it just me, or did the name “Department of Homeland Security” creep you out from the day it was introduced? Didn’t it seem like a nod to 1930s Germany? Just me? Okay.

May 14, 2020May 14, 2020

Getting A Little Stabby

Friends,

At least 90,000 of our fellow Americans have died as a result of the SARS-CoV-2 virus as of today. It’s likely that many more will perish before this crisis is at a point that we can call “over.” That makes the president’s comments today, complaining that the numbers are so high because we’re doing so much testing, not because of the administration’s failed response, that much worse.

A small number of nitwits claim that the public safety response by local governments to have them stay at home represents abridging their fundamental freedoms. Freedom to get a haircut, freedom to get a new tattoo, freedom to get a bucket of wings, and ultimately the freedom to get infected. These are the “covidiots” you’ve been hearing so much about — mostly because they’re so loud, not because there’s so many of them. It only takes one mask-free demonstration to spread a virus, of course. We’ve already seen new outbreaks among the impatient science/math/statistics denier set, and their parents, grandparents, and children. Dopes.

Because most people are indoors and over 20% are unemployed, spending has gone down, which means tax revenue has gone down in the state. This leads, as the Governor noted in his May budget revision speech today, to a $60 billion budget shortfall. As it stands right now, it looks like we state employees are going to take about a 10% haircut (speaking of haircut, what’s going on with your ridiculous mane, wayne gretzky? – ed I wish! I’m merely cultivating an homage to The Great One.). I kinda don’t mind a temporary pay cut as long as it comes with fewer hours. I guess it depends on what the union has to say about it. Complicated!

Your pal,

– bob

August 12, 2019August 14, 2019

What Are You Doing? Irwin Allen Edition

Friends,

It’s been a while since I checked in, and the universe has dealt one punch in the face after another after another. Rather than work in chronological order, it might be better to work in order of impact and import.

We went on something of a summer holiday to Southern Oregon towards the beginning of July. At first, when the trip was planned, we were going to go see the in-laws and stay at a little fly fishing resort on the Umpqua River to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. This sounded great and presented a wonderful opportunity to try out the new camera. The updated plan had us spend a couple days at the in-laws’ house first, divvying up their possessions to prepare for their move to a retirement community near our house. More on the retirement community in a bit, but this haggling led to a talons-extended wariness that would filter into the time spent in the forest.

So we ate the meals and slept in the cabin and hiked around a bit, but it felt like the last half of the third sequel. Going through motions. That was until we started hiking out of the trail leading to the largest falls we would visit. I spun my ankle on a trail-colored rock, and spent the next week hopping around and complaining to whoever would listen.

Did my complaining matter? Not one wit.

Once we arrived back home, where complaining continued to not matter, I noticed that the leak under the Wrangler hadn’t got any worse in our absence. I put in a new serpentine belt to replace the one that was starting to go before we left, and headed off to bed. My first day back to work would be in Temecula, so I wanted to make sure I was good to go.

The drive was uneventful the next day. The arrival in the parking lot was not. I knew that thrip-thwap-thwip noise was another belt flying apart. Time to consult experts…

Well, it should have been time to consult experts, but I consulted gifted psychics instead. How do psychics become gifted? They cheat, of course. In this case, the mechanics at the nearby service center had seen this before and knew what to look for. Excessive runout of the thrust bearing causing the crankshaft to move in and out too much. The pulleys go out of alignment and cut the new belt to pieces. Plus, the crankshaft seal is damaged in the process, thus the oil leak I couldn’t identify. The motor was cooked save for the seizing, the smoke and the fires. I still had time to find this old dog a new home and the local Jeep dealer gave me a reasonable price. An auction price, but that’s okay. I’d rather not see it driving around town.

I cast around for a replacement while driving around a rental from Avis and was reminded that a) Avis sells their cars after a while at pretty decent prices, and b) I still have a Grand Cherokee that isn’t running, and c) I miss the interior room and utility of a midsize SUV like the Grand Cherokee. So I bought one that’s a year and a couple months old from them in the weirdest sales transaction I’ve ever conducted (and I once bought a Volkswagen Beetle in the dark).

So much for not having a car payment, eh?

All this time, something’s been wrong with the dogs since we brought them home from the kennel/spa/cages. Food’s not staying down, or not getting consumed at all. Lots of pacing. Lots of trips outside overnight. The puppy pad bill is going to break the bank and after coming home after work to a couple mortifying shitstorms, it was time for the little one to go to the vet.

She hadn’t eaten in a few days, even though we tried to coax her with the most expensive ground up things in tins we could find. The veterinarian drew some blood and took an exceedingly lengthy time to call us with the results. Extraordinary because her health continued to deteriorate over the long weekend. Finally, we took her in to maybe get a feeding tube or something, but the prognosis was grim and final: pancreatic cancer. Looking back, I should’ve kept her head in my hand as the drugs were administered that would end her life. As she stopped controlling her neck, her head flopped over, giving Teresa a start, “Oh god! That’s horrible,” she gasped through the tears.

Mocha was the littlest one, the bravest one, the one who had been through the most. She was a one-doggy puppy mill and had been put through the ringer. She had the scars from being tied up all day and the nervous demeanor of a dog who’d never been socialized. I had an affinity for her that I can’t really describe. She’d been through a lot and deserved to have a nice safe life. I’d like to think that she enjoyed her last three years with us. And just like that, she was gone.

So, how’ve you been?

Your pal,

– bob

UPDATE: Here’s a better picture of the little dog. She’s pictured here on her preferred tower, where a girl can get away from it all, like another dog seven times her size who’s constantly menacing her.

Mocha and her tower of throw pillows

May 20, 2016

An Ungodly Early Hour

Friends,

It’s been six weeks, so I suppose I should finally spill the beans: I decided to take a job off the hill and away from my lovely forest. The decision was easy to make since I was as broke as a joke, but it’s been a tough transition and doesn’t seem to be getting easier.

Waking up at 3:30 every morning is beating me up. I don’t know how people do it. The new coworkers in the new office in the new town at the new job are nice enough, but I’m so sleepy that I don’t feel I’m holding up my end of the bargain. Yeah, you read that right. Three-effing-thirty.

Thankfully, a sweet girl I know has been more than generous in playing along with this absurd schedule shift. She’s been a good sport, but she surely must be growing weary of my alarm going off in the middle of the night.

However, I have a plan…

Your best pal,

– bob

March 17, 2016

Here’s A Wee Update: Write Something, Dammit! Edition

Friends,

I’ve been lax about updating this thing lately, but not for lack of something to say. You can see some nonsense from me on Twitter, mostly about politics and pretending to be friends with people I’ve never met. I also spend a certain amount of time feigning outrage about stuff. It’s not healthy to be a part of the Internet Outrage Machine, of course. The more you feed it, the more insatiable it becomes. You’d think that would be unsustainable, but Twitter is selling ads against the furor, so somebody has figured it out.

This leads me nicely (if you do say so yourself. -ed) to why I haven’t been posting lately. The job market has been particularly prickly and as I read the piles of rejection notes clogging my inbox, it’s been tough to build up the will to write. You can only read that you’re no good for so long before you start believing it yourself. “They don’t realize what they’re missing,” and “Maybe it wasn’t the right fit” still don’t pay the bills. You will not find that surprising.

I still think that writing can pay the bills, so here’s a start. There will be much more to come, including a new project that I can’t talk about yet. Thanks for stopping by. I’m excited to get back behind the keyboard.

Your pal,

– bob

December 24, 2015

A Very Merry Christmastime

Friends,

I’m not going to sugar-coat it; this year has not been great. Business has been slow and some promising opportunities have fizzled or flaked. Despite that, I’ve had the good fortune to meet new people and branch out a bit.

If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that starting and maintaining a new business is harder than I thought. The work itself isn’t the tough part [maybe you should take a moment out of this holiday message that seems to have veered wildly off course and tell the people what it is you do. – ed Not now, I’m on a roll.]. Fixing computers, installing networks, and building websites are the jobs I’m landing most often which is fine and not terribly difficult. The problem is marketing myself. I can easily develop slick marketing plans for other people, but I’ve always had a issue with selling myself. If I overcome that, I’d be in much better shape.

So there’s my wish for the new year—to get some more business. My wish for you is that you enjoy a healthy and happy 2016.

Totally doable.

Your best pal in the whole wide world,

– bob

August 31, 2015

Our New Offering

Friends,

I applied (again) for a copywriting gig at a reasonably famous craft brewery in a county just South of here and their HR department politely declined the offer of my services. Before I submitted my application, I did my research and spent time on their website. This particular brewery seems to have written themselves into a very deep hole if you think about it. Their site is full of words, their packaging is full of words, and each of their many products have a pile of words apportioned to each product page. You’d think that they would have glommed onto my application like a lamprey, since as you’ve seen here, I am rarely at a loss for words. Many words. Many lots of enormous words.

This got me to thinking though—how would I write for beers? Also, how might I write for beers and incorporate (and milk endlessly) a single joke. Here’s my product announcement…

Ampersand Brewing Company Announces Latest Creation

Ampersand Brewing Company, the premier craft brewer in Northern Southern California’s famous craft brewing region, is excited to announce its latest premier craft beer—Additive Ale. Brewmaster Ann Annotherthynge has hand-selected the finest Ersatz hops from the Etcetera region of Austria, bringing the fruity nose and resplendent hearty head fans have grown accustomed to. Using the finest Furthermore yeasts and slow-hopped over months and months and months, the finish is smooth with notes of caramel, grapefruit and leather. Additive Ale will be initially available on tap at finer gastropubs, and in restaurants, and at liquor stores, and supermarkets, and in growlers on our web store, and in convenient six packs, and from taco trucks, and from other places.

Yup, just the one joke.

Your best pal in the entire world,

– bob

August 15, 2015

Not The Future

Change the oil and she’ll fire right up!

Friends,

I applied for a copywriting job at a cute little agency housed in a cute little Victorian about 50 miles away from my piney paradise. 50 miles you say? Isn’t that the distance I crabbed about not that long ago? Yes, but the old gig was in a sea level men’s room hand dryer, not in an old neighborhood with quaint tree-covered lanes.

The setting was great, the people were welcoming and the job was something I could do standing on my head. How do I know? During the selection process, I was sent writing tests, including a timed test, that I took to like a kitten is drawn to a webcam. A long week waiting for an answer ended with polite rejection. As is my custom, I asked what I could have done differently as a way to figure out why my application was turned down. I received this:

“Your qualifications and interview was excellent. You were one of our top three candidates. Ultimately, it came down to the best fit for our company and our future.”

I’m not entirely sure how I might not have fit into the company, since we seemed to get along very well in the interview and subsequent email correspondence. What I’m worried about as I, ahem, gain more life experience, is the perception that I won’t be around for a company’s future. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got another good 100 to 150 years left in the tank. Putting in another twenty until some people might think I should retire is a wildly optimistic number for any business concerns’ hopes of longevity if you look at the numbers.

So what does this mean? It’s back to the drawing board, or writing board, or keying board. I’m sure somebody needs the savvy and experience I’ve earned. Sadly, the folks I had hoped would see that, didn’t.

Your best pal in the whole wide world,

– bob

November 26, 2014

Drought.

Friends,

August? Really? It’s been that long?

I can explain…

My trip to Hemet, discussed in some detail here, was to deposit the final paycheck from the Far Eastern Outpost of a charity. In the intervening months, I’ve been looking for jobs, trying to keep my house, and other fun activities.
“You can’t fire me, I quit,” seems like a lot of fun to say, but actually doing it is fraught with problems. First, I should say that I was, by my reckoning, the fourteenth employee to be investigated at that charity in the last year. By investigated I mean selected for summary judgement and immediate dismissal. It turns out that when the boss tries to impugn your expertise in public, that boss will make sure you’re fired if you stand up for yourself. For instance, I was unable to see into the future to know that the boss’ internet connection in a hotel conference facility on the East Coast might be spotty. Nor was I able to fix that connectivity problem. Therefore, I must be the worst and she let everyone know that. I was having none of it.
Luckily, I have friends who warned me of my impending separation, so I was advised to quit before the papers could be drawn up. The bad news is that it’s pretty difficult to receive unemployment insurance benefits if you quit, regardless of the reason. I’ll just go ahead and put my ultimately successful appeal of the denial of benefits in the “other fun activities” column.
After a year slogging through a fairly hostile work environment, leaving has been a relief but getting healthy has been a slow process. Slower still has been working out what to do for a living now that I’m all grown up. Freelance copywriting seems the most risky tack to take, but I’m gravitating in that direction. Head over to bobtherieau.com and let me know why that’s a terrible idea!

That’s the short version of events. There are some great stories to share from my final days over there, but the holiday season has begun and I hate to do anything that’ll adversely effect their fundraising efforts. After all, I wouldn’t have stayed there for a decade if I didn’t believe in the mission to help people in need of a fresh start. I guess you’re witnessing my own fresh start, so cross some appendages that I can make it a good one.

Your best pal in the whole wide world,

– bob

February 4, 2014

Birthday Holiday Season! Kickoff! Recap!

[note: the pictures that are supposed to be in this post, and help it make sense, are missing from the server. our crack team of researchers are looking into it and hope to find them very soon. -ed]

Friends,

These are some of the things that happened yesterday as I kicked off my 2014 Birthday Holiday Season. As you know, your own birthday holiday season begins when you receive the first gift, or cake, or card and ends when the last candle is extinguished. Using this time-tested formula for happy funtimes, a given birthday holiday season can last for months—as it should.

Let’s begin with the good news that the football team that I’ve been rooting for in a somewhat ironic way for the past few years actually won the Super Bowl. Why did I choose them as my team? Because they represent the largest geographical area of any major sports team in America that I can think of. Nice old ladies in Alaska are Seahawks fans. People from Idaho to Oregon are Seahawks fans. Becoming a fan of this team seemed logical.

As you know by now, yesterday also marked the passing of Philip Seymour Hoffman. Gifted and troubled, his death struck me in a weird way. I knew that he was a genius and labored under his addictions, but there was one thing that stood out on the day of my birth; he was only 46.

I’ve always found the coincidence of my birthday falling on Groundhog’s Day to be a bit unsettling, mostly because the ritual is pretty damn stupid. It warmed my heart then to find this picture of the new mayor of New York City dropping a groundhog during their own dumb ritual thing.

Here in drought-stricken Southern California, we haven’t seen much in the way of precipitation this winter. That’s bad news for a place like Idyllwild, that relies solely on moisture that falls right here for drinking water the rest of the year. I’m happy to report that we received a light dusting of snow last night and it is currently raining.

And that’s something to celebrate.

Your pal,

– bob

UPDATE: Punxsutawney Dr. Phil, from the Conan program.

January 23, 2013

It’s Time To Think About Disappointment

Friends,

If you’ve been following this hot mess for any length of time (and there may be some new readers who haven’t taken in enough to really be hip to the whole deal, but more on that in a teensy bit), then you may know that I’ve been waiting for a phone call from some people. People? Why yes, I applied for a job some months ago and I sat down for a group interview. It went okay, I thought. All four of us seemed to get along well and my skills lined up nicely with their requirements.

I followed up with a couple emails. One every two or three weeks, and it’s hard to know if they seemed needy or stalkery or pleading, but they went out and all but three went unanswered. The first two to the hiring manager and the last one to another of the interviewers. The first reply was nice enough and sort of encouraging with its “I hope all is well with you and look forward to speaking to you soon.” The last one finished up with, “I hope all is well,” but the bit at the beginning was crushing…

“Hi Bob,

Thank you for your message. We had several very qualified candidates (you being one of them) and we have filled the position.”

This was not the result I was hoping for.

Three months in, dreaming up marketing plans, plotting bold new strategies, imagining a world where I don’t have to get up at four o’clock in the morning to risk a commute that makes sane people cringe in horror, and it all went away. Poof. Nine point Verdana managing to stab me in the non-shriveled, non-blackened part of my heart.

“I hope all is well.”

Me too, madam. Me too.

Your pal,

– bob

UPDATE: Here’s a story from the paper of record on the lady who eventually got the nod. I guess you could call this a safe choice, but it’s worth noting that her previous business doesn’t seem to have had a website (source: Google, Internet Archive), so maybe it’s all about writing press releases? I’m clearly missing something here.

January 17, 2013

It’s Time To Talk About Coughing

A lovely centered picture of an advertisement.

Friends,

I’ve been pretty ill over the last few days with a weedy, grating cough that has left my voice a squeaky mess. It’s going around, of course. We’re in the middle of AN EPIDEMIC!!! after all. Some who passed on the flu vaccine (which has proven to be wildly effective, actually) are getting hit with a fairly brutal strain of the virus. Folks are missing work. There’s sniffling and wheezing everywhere. My fake cold is a pale imitation of this. It’s annoying, my throat hurts, but I haven’t joined the growing group of people planning bathroom remodels because they’ve recently had the opportunity to spend significant amounts of time analyzing the wallpaper patterns.

Clearly I’ve been so irresponsible that I’ve felt compelled to go to work every day during this illness. The volunteers aren’t going to deploy those computers themselves! Amirite? (they’ve been doing a fine job deploying computers themselves. you’re like a mother hen hovering over them. please. -ed)

Your best pal in the whole world,

– bob