![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Conversations
Aug. 12th, 2020 09:58 amYesterday was a day marked by conversation.
RTT texted me a picture of Kamala Harris with the caption, Booooo.
He added, Harris sucks! Bound to turn away more California voters than she recruits. No young person from California likes Kamala Harris. I’m voting Kanye 2020. But I bet that Harris would get the nod and I won 20 bucks.
I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.
As it happens, I’m a big Kanye fan but Most-Important-Election-in-My/Your-Lifetime yada, yada, yada and all of that, so I gave him the Lecture.
Although truthfully, I am disengaging rather rapidly from the whole political process. Who really gives a shit? Not me. Are things really gonna change under a Biden/Harris regime?
I suppose we must pretend that they will.
###
In other news, I wandered over to Neighbor Ed’s house to return the Seward Park book and to get rid of five pounds of tomatoes.
He turned out to be sitting on the front porch, so we ended up chatting for an hour and a half.
I must say of all the people I currently know, Neighbor Ed’s conversational style is the most agreeable. We chatter in exactly the same way—long conversational digressions that wander rather far afield from the subject at hand before looping back—and we are interested in the same subjects.
Yesterday we talked Mask Nazis, and politics, and the New Normal, and a podcast called Nice White Parents, which we’re both listening to as we’re both graduates of Manhattan’s public school system.
“It’s like totally whack,” I said. “I mean, the podcaster makes this big deal: And because of all the pressure from the white parents, they moved the school! It was supposed to be built next to the projects, and they moved it three blocks!
“And I’m thinking, This is supposed to be an example of the monstrous tyranny of white parents in New York City? That the school was moved three blocks? Three blocks is nothing in Manhattan! I mean, really! She makes it sound like Abraham Lincoln tramping 10 miles through the snow!”
“Oh, I think you may have earned yourself another five years in the reeducation camp with that one, Comrade DiLucchio,” said Ed.
###
I talked to Annie. I am now thoroughly ashamed of myself for harboring any resentment or spite toward Annie: She is an 80-year-old woman whose life was permanently blighted at the age of 10 when her mother walked out on her. The harm that did her is incalculable.
Alicia thinks Annie has dementia.
I’m not so sure.
She is forgetful, but then, so am I. I mean, how can you keep track of all the people you’ve told a story to when you’ve told the story countless times because nothing interesting is happening in your own life that gives you fresh stories?
“That Kindle I ordered you isn’t scheduled to arrive till September,” I told her.
“But isn’t it September now?” she asked.
“No, Annie,” I said gently. “Still August.”
Is that evidence of dementia?
But why should she keep track of the calendar? Since she broke her hip, every day is the same. What good do calendrical markers do her? Why should she care?
###
And in the evening spoke to Ichabod for another hour and a half. Mostly about politics. A little about his job hunt: He’d just done an interview with the Legislative Analyst’s Office in Sacramento. “It went well,” he said. “But, you know. I have to think they have a hundred applicants for the position.”
###
No tromping for me today since the new computer is out for delivery. I have to sign for it, and it’s practically guaranteed that if I leave the house for a single second, that will be the delivery window.
So, today I’ll be sedentary. Do National Counting Project training modules and cook. Pesto, tomato pies and tomatillo salsa verde are on the menu.
RTT texted me a picture of Kamala Harris with the caption, Booooo.
He added, Harris sucks! Bound to turn away more California voters than she recruits. No young person from California likes Kamala Harris. I’m voting Kanye 2020. But I bet that Harris would get the nod and I won 20 bucks.
I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.
As it happens, I’m a big Kanye fan but Most-Important-Election-in-My/Your-Lifetime yada, yada, yada and all of that, so I gave him the Lecture.
Although truthfully, I am disengaging rather rapidly from the whole political process. Who really gives a shit? Not me. Are things really gonna change under a Biden/Harris regime?
I suppose we must pretend that they will.
###
In other news, I wandered over to Neighbor Ed’s house to return the Seward Park book and to get rid of five pounds of tomatoes.
He turned out to be sitting on the front porch, so we ended up chatting for an hour and a half.
I must say of all the people I currently know, Neighbor Ed’s conversational style is the most agreeable. We chatter in exactly the same way—long conversational digressions that wander rather far afield from the subject at hand before looping back—and we are interested in the same subjects.
Yesterday we talked Mask Nazis, and politics, and the New Normal, and a podcast called Nice White Parents, which we’re both listening to as we’re both graduates of Manhattan’s public school system.
“It’s like totally whack,” I said. “I mean, the podcaster makes this big deal: And because of all the pressure from the white parents, they moved the school! It was supposed to be built next to the projects, and they moved it three blocks!
“And I’m thinking, This is supposed to be an example of the monstrous tyranny of white parents in New York City? That the school was moved three blocks? Three blocks is nothing in Manhattan! I mean, really! She makes it sound like Abraham Lincoln tramping 10 miles through the snow!”
“Oh, I think you may have earned yourself another five years in the reeducation camp with that one, Comrade DiLucchio,” said Ed.
###
I talked to Annie. I am now thoroughly ashamed of myself for harboring any resentment or spite toward Annie: She is an 80-year-old woman whose life was permanently blighted at the age of 10 when her mother walked out on her. The harm that did her is incalculable.
Alicia thinks Annie has dementia.
I’m not so sure.
She is forgetful, but then, so am I. I mean, how can you keep track of all the people you’ve told a story to when you’ve told the story countless times because nothing interesting is happening in your own life that gives you fresh stories?
“That Kindle I ordered you isn’t scheduled to arrive till September,” I told her.
“But isn’t it September now?” she asked.
“No, Annie,” I said gently. “Still August.”
Is that evidence of dementia?
But why should she keep track of the calendar? Since she broke her hip, every day is the same. What good do calendrical markers do her? Why should she care?
###
And in the evening spoke to Ichabod for another hour and a half. Mostly about politics. A little about his job hunt: He’d just done an interview with the Legislative Analyst’s Office in Sacramento. “It went well,” he said. “But, you know. I have to think they have a hundred applicants for the position.”
###
No tromping for me today since the new computer is out for delivery. I have to sign for it, and it’s practically guaranteed that if I leave the house for a single second, that will be the delivery window.
So, today I’ll be sedentary. Do National Counting Project training modules and cook. Pesto, tomato pies and tomatillo salsa verde are on the menu.
