You Can't Fix Stupid

 Years ago, comedian Ron White had a great routine, which I can paraphrase. If your lady is a little light in the chest, you can get her implants. If she's a bit saggy -- butt lift. If her face ain't pretty -- plastic surgery is for that. But if she's stupid -- nothing you can do. You can't fix stupid.

And so it is on politics. At the Ds' request, I stayed clear of FaceBook (tm) for awhile. But her siren call proved too strong -- and as we near the biggest election of our lives, I'm back. Monday night I even violated a self imposed rule: I commented under the influence of alcohol. Hell -- I'm nastier and funnier when I do that.

I have a friend I'll call Rob, since that's his name, who is the polar opposite of my friend Kenny. I always say that in sheer brain power, Kenny is my smartest friend, and Rob is, well, the dumbest. He's a nice fellow, and fun to attend Canes games with, but confines his reading to far right sites that even embarrass Fox News.

Lately, like all of his ilk, his posts are all aflutter with anti Biden stuff, along with the typical anti Obama and anti Hillary stuff, as if the latter two were in the running. Eventually, he admitted his belief: COVID-19 was intentionally sent to the US by the Chinese government, in order to cause the defeat of Trump, the first US president the evil and inscrutable Chinese truly feared. Wow. Norman texted me in disbelief -- this was next level, Jedi type craziness. Sadly, Rob is alone. His many FaceBook friends, all seemingly from North Florida, Georgia, and the rest of the Southeast, agree completely. 

As Tony Soprano said -- yeah, but what are ya gonna do? To me, the issue is simple, as a recent Atlantic Monthly article stated: we're about to find out how America chooses to deal with the epidemic. I hope the majority truly wish to employ science and reason to deal with this scourge the best possible way. I guess we'll have an idea next week.

Meanwhile, it's been a pretty nice week. I've exceeded 10 miles walking each day. Last night I did a bit of work, such as it is, on a conference with Paul, Stuart, and Stuart's young Turk, Josh.

The new icemaker installed by Glyn's Service strangely but happily started working after a week. I had bought a countertop model, and I can move that to the football room now. Also, if D2 and Jonathan ever get to open their rooftop patio space, it'll be nice for them to have, too.

Today D2 is here working, with Betsy. The strangest thing happened with the large Pyragold. All of a sudden, during yesterday's excursion, she looked up and saw the soaring turkey vultures, which just returned to Miami for the Winter, and freaked out. She darted for home. Luckily, Jonathan corralled her before she became a victim of a car on South Bayshore, but whenever she went out, she'd look skyward and act petrified. D2 and Jonathan are trying to figure this out -- wondering what happened during her early puppyhood in South Carolina to trigger this strange reaction.

The turkey vultures are hear until May, so we'll have to overcome this. It truly is the damndest thing -- the big dog looks skyward, and tucks her tail and slinks away. They'll figure it out.

Tonight my old friend Michelle and Stuart and I have a Zoom reunion. Michelle wanted to meet for lunch, but I told her I was avoiding that for now, mostly, so Zoom it shall be.

Tomorrow night we have our regular one, which I really enjoy, with Eric, Dana, Barry, his sons, and Kenny. We solve all problems. If only the nation would listen to us.

And Saturday, weather permitting, we have a banner day planned. D1 rented us a cabana at a local beachside hotel, in Bal Harbor. We plan to meet, share lunch, and enjoy some socially distanced time together.

It's Halloween, and we bought candy. I'll set up two folding chairs outside the front gates -- one with our stuffed Frankenstein monster, who has been our Halloween staple since the early 90s, and the other holding a bowl of self serve trick or treat candy. Based on neighborhood decorations, and the new crop of kids in the 'hood, I'm thinking we will get some customers.

It's sad -- one of my yearly pleasures is giving candy to the kids. Some years we get between 50 and 100. This year it'll be a suckier version of normal. Pretty much like everything.

I called the pool company to come out to give me an estimate for a resurfacing. The pool is 23 years old, and you're lucky if you get 10 without needing a resurface. Young Brian showed up -- I recognized him. He and his father did the major cleanout three years ago, after Irma turned the pool into a tree limb pit. He recalled the job. He's drawing up an estimate.

I told Brian I felt worse for the young guys like him during the pandemic. He said he's actually pretty much a homebody -- doesn't enjoy crowds anyway, but he DOES miss travel.

I didn't ask him about politics...