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More Advice For Dealing With the Orange 🤡

From Mock Paper Scissors:

Scissorhead M Davis sends in this handy list of ways to deal with convicted felon and career criminal The Orange 🤡 during the course of his misadministration. Per a 2017 article in the WaPo, this is attributed to Bernice King, daughter of MLK and Coretta King.

I think it has been updated (the original referred to THAT MAN as 45, while this says 47.

1. Don't use his name; EVER (47 will do)

2. Remember this is a regime and he's not acting alone;

3. Do not argue with those who support him-it doesn't work,

4. Focus on his POLICIES, not his orange-ness and his mental state;

5. Keep your message positive; they want the country to be angry and fearful because this is the soil from which their darkest policies will grow;

6. No more helpless/hopeless talk;

7. Support artists and the arts;

8. Be careful not to spread fake news. Check it;

9. Take care of yourselves; And

10. Resist!

When you post or talk about him, don't assign his actions to him, assign them to "The Republican Administration, or "The Republicans." This will have several effects: the Republican legislators will either have to take responsibility for their association with him or stand up for what some of them don't like; he will not get the focus of attention he craves.

A lot of this corresponds with tips we've been saying since the election, especially the paragraph at the end: Make the Republicans Own It All.

I still believe the best advice is from St. Molly Ivins: Don't pay attention to what he says (he's lying), pay attention to what he does (the record, the record, the record). Look at what bills and Executive Orders he signs, who he appoints. Don't listen to a word he brays.

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FINALLY!

I honestly never thought I'd live long enough to see retirement. Back in the 90s at the height of the plague years—when so many of the men I knew and loved were dropping like flies and I should have been planning for this day—I didn't. I didn't think I'd live this long, and I cashed out every 401K I had whenever I left a position thinking that I'd rather have the money then instead of some far off—possibly never to come—day.

And despite all odds, here we are. With my very modest pension from the city (yes, the truth can now be told; I've worked I.T. for the City of Phoenix Streets Department for the past five years) and Social Security (assuming it survives 45's administration) I'll be fine. No new cars or other extravagant purchases, but all the usual bills are covered with enough padding to allow for inflation and even a little bit of fun money left over to feed my music addiction.

I had a going-away lunch with my original team members a couple days ago. I specifically requested that we do it on the down-low so Cuntula (my current boss) didn't get wind of it.

A few weeks ago she asked what I wanted to do for my retirement celebration. Did I want a department lunch, happy hour, dinner?

I told her I wanted nothing. I wanted my departure to be just another day. I had to reiterate this several times before she finally walked off saying, "I don't take no for an answer."

See how she got her nickname?

Anyhow, I stewed on this overnight and emailed her (copying HR for good measure) repeathing that I wanted NOTHING done for my retirement and asking her to please respect my wishes. (Respect is a word she struggles with.)

She replied several hours later saying that whatever I wanted (or in this case didn't) was fine.

Lunch with the guys was great. Heard a lot of gossip I had been unaware of, and found out just how much my old boss loathes Cuntula. (I am not alone, obviously.) It was a bittersweet gathering. These guys have been my family away from home for the past five years, and I can say confidently my former boss especially was the best supervisor I've had since I moved back from San Francisco twenty years ago. I'm going to miss them all, but as one of my colleagues stated, "You have our phone numbers. If you ever need anything we're here for you."  I've had precious few work friendships survive post separation over the years to the point that we almost forgot how we met, so we shall see how these fare in that respect.

So what's next? (The question I have gotten the most over the past few days.) I have absolutely no fucking idea. (See: I never thought I'd live this long, above.) I have my hobbies. I have this here blog thingie. There's a big, cuddly labradoodle in our lives who loves belly rubs on the couch and misses his other daddy mightily when he's gone during the day, so I think I'll manage.

And then there's all the little shit that needs to still be done around the house.