A future tinge of normality

 

I have been able to book a place for a swim on Saturday! 

     We have not been informed that the pool is actually reopening then after our latest bout of lockdown, but I am taking it as gospel and will be there, bright eyed and bushy tailed.  Well, as b.e.a.b.t. as one can be at 7.15 am after a couple of weeks of indolent snoozing in the morning courtesy of Covid - restrictions rather than the disease I hasten to add.

     I have to admit that it will be a relief to get back to my early morning routine, as the swim gives a sort of impetus and structure to my day – as well as exercise of course!  I am not sure that restaurants and cafes will be open again, so my cup of tea might have to wait, as will my writing in my notebook, as that seems heavily dependent on my being in the café as well.

 

 

 

 

I have made an executive decision to stop counting those people not wearing masks as I take my daily bike ride along the paseo.  My insufferable superiority in always wearing a mask when I should, as opposed to the lesser breeds without the law who do not, is already at such astronomical levels that it is impossible to boost further.  All I do, therefore, by my continued counting is to make myself angry as I give hard looks to all those unmasked selfish viral assassins who feel themselves allowed to parade (literally) their homicidal proclivities as I cycle by.  This is not productive.  I must open my sense of forgiveness and pretend to be blissfully unaware of their murderous irresponsibility. 

     I have to admit that it makes the bike ride more enjoyable as well as I can concentrate on the more scenic elements in my journey rather than noting in every face I meet marks of weakness marks of woe.  And I just know that bonkers old Blake would be much more forgiving than I.  So, I really should make the effort.

 

Although my new watch does not have the battery life of my old Pebble (Ah! The watches of yesteryear!) and not even the battery life of my old-new Amazfit, I have decided that the life that I am getting from the new-new watch is, one might say, acceptable.

     As is always the case with watch/app co-existence there are always problems with synchronizing, but I have come to understand that as par for the course and I take such irritations in my stride.  Though I have to admit that the last instance of my app not recognizing the watch in spite of Bluetooth being on and the bloody watch being next to the mobile phone was difficult to work out.  And, although I tried a number of things to make it work (and yes, I did try switching in off and then on, more than once) when it did, finally, decide to do what it had done perfectly normally up to yesterday, I am not sure what it is that I did that worked.  But, extensive experience with things electrical means that I accept success and a glowing screen with a look of quiet competence rather than total surprise.

 

 

Tomorrow is my flu jab.  This is not going to be administered in our medical centre, but in a civic building in the centre of town.  I understand that the flu injections are being administered on an industrial scale and medical centres are pooling their resources and making the process fully central.  Presumably this is something like a dry run for the truly frightening logistics that will have to be run when the Covid vaccine (DV) is finally available for use.

     As far as I can work out, my age group is likely to be in the third tranche of the general population, at least going on the UK’s way of measuring these things I would be.  It will be interesting to see how the state (any state) copes with what is going to be a mammoth undertaking.

     I am not sure how far ‘normal’ doctoring will be affected by the vaccination of the entire population, though we have already seen a change in the way that our medical centre is working and that change can only be more radical when the roll-out of the vaccine is in full flow.

     This part of the world rejoices in bureaucracy which can always be a pain, but at the same time we all have readily available numbers and cards so we can be fairly easily be ticked off on some great flow chart in the sky.  It remains to be seen how fluidly this flows!

 

Meanwhile, two bike rides today – and neither noted by my fitness app because of the recalcitrance of my watch.   

     But tomorrow, things will be different!   

     And roll on Saturday and my first real swim for weeks!

Other things in Life

NEW LOCKDOWN, Day 11, Monday.

Lockdown has put me in mind of Wendell Urth – a fictional ‘extra-terrologist’ created by Isaac Asimov in a few of his detective sci-fi stories.  Urth is regarded as the world’s foremost expert on distant worlds, but he has a morbid fear of leaving his own rooms, so while his mind is universe wide, his living space is enclosed.

     It doesn’t take a very dramatic shift to think about our own limiting conditions under lockdown with its radical lessening of our personal spaces, while at the same time encouraging our compulsive fascination with an election half a world away! 

    

Perhaps the American Election is the modern day equivalent of ‘Bread and Circuses’ for the Enclosed Folk of Lockdown: it keeps us off the streets; gives us something to concentrate our minds; allows us to be safely (domestically) judgemental about all those Republican idiots without masks; deflects attention from the situation at home; is a soap opera that never seems to end; it has a moral (of sorts); it has clearly defined Goodies and Baddies, and so on.

     I am almost tempted to say that if there had not been something like the American Election to fill our newspapers and TV screens then something would have had to have been invented.  And I don’t mean a new series of Celebrity Big Brother.  Which I wouldn’t have watched.

     What Biden needs to do is make American politics competent and boring.  A time when each day does not need to start with a convulsive clutching of the mobile phone to find out what new horror The Orange Outcast has leashed upon the world.  Biden is decent, politically savvy, a born compromiser – if he is allowed to do his job then things will settle down and be predictively tedious.  Please.

     This morning I clicked on a link which took me to Biden’s Transition Blog or webpage or whatever and there was a section to be filled out which invited the reader to join and be the recipient of regular updates.  I filled it out, but the thing needed a further registration or forgotten password, or something.  And I just let it go.  And that is surely right.  We have now come to a stage where we need to be weaned away from an easy reliance of the Orange Antics of Small Handed Narcissists and we should not seek to place the onus of entertainment on plodding dependable Biden.

     Let’s face it, although the thrill got less with each unparalleled outburst, Trump was entertaining.  As long as you forgot that he was the most powerful man in the world and leader of the Free World etc.  He was pure, totally sullied, entertainment.  He just wasn’t a politician.  Or decent human.  But, like the witches in Salem, he provided not only spectacle, but also a Manichean boost for leftie liberals, where Trump’s mere existence showed that they had to be right because they were opposite.  I’m not sure that the comparison works, as I seem to be equating witch-burning bigots with the left, which is not my intention at all.  A more responsible writer would cut the whole of this paragraph and either re-work the idea or scrap it; but that ain’t me! 

     Liber scriptus es, as they say, though thinking about it again, that quote can get me into more trouble and be even more confusing and confused. 

     Well, on to the next topic.

 

 

Which is, the algorithm that Netflix uses to keep its patrons (!) secure is getting more blatant in its ensnaring of me.  Today, as I popped in for a little light comedic fare from my usual pushers at The Big Bang Theory, I was presented with a childish, garish advertisement for what was obviously a juvenile animation called Wonder Park, the figures were cartoonish rather than draftsman drawn and the appearance was rigidly commercial.  Something to pass by, to ignore, to find something a little more amusing and a little more intellectually stimulating.

     It reduced me to tears.  OK, I fully admit that, rather like my mother, some Andrex adverts have been enough to make me emotionally wobbly, but they used unfair tactics like Yellow Labrador puppies, and who can then resist?

  I double-clicked and I was hooked.  And once involved in something like fantasy/Sci-Fi/animation, I can always find an intellectual, literary, cultural reference to justify my continued attention.

     In most of the big company animations today where money has been spent on a decent script and the process, there is usually a sequence or some witty (adult referenced, to keep them interested) dialogue to make a moment and to give pleasure.  And there were more than a few such moments in this feel-good movie.  Yes, you could tell and list the animation films that they were shamelessly ripping off, but they did it with some style and so I am prepare to allow them to count as ‘influences’ or homage!

     I’m not entirely sure that I would recommend it as something for everyone, but a competent piece of animation, it is a delight.

 

And now, to complete the evening, some reading.  Or rather, some reading which is not about the American election in the Guardian.  A real book, well, a freebie downloaded to my Kindle, but it all counts!

 

 

 

Troubles in store

 NEW LOCKDOWN: Day 10, Sunday

 

 

 

The counting goes on.  And on.  And on.  But Biden has won and so we can put that worry to rest.

     And speculate about what old One-Term is going to do in the almost two months of lingering shame that he is going to have to suffer as, every single day, he is reminded that he has been voted out of office and from the 2^nd of January he will no longer be the President.

     We do have some evidence with which to speculate.  As Trump has shown himself to be ruthlessly concerned with money and his own status before everything else, we can expect him to continue placing his wealth and his public face in the forefront of his concerns.

     Prison is not a good look for anyone other than a Nelson Mandela and, with the best will in the world, even his most dedicated Swamp Base would not equate The Orange Monster with a South African Freedom Fighter.  If Trump is prosecuted for a fraction of the crimes that he is alleged to have committed during his time in the White House then he will be put away for a long, long time.  Misuse of public funds, nepotism, cronyism, bribery, simple corruption, tax avoidance, tax evasion, lying about virtually everything, justice – where to start with his trashing of the justice system? -  and so on ad infinitum. To say nothing of various dodgy financial pigeons coming home to roost to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars.

     So, one of Trump’s first concerns is going to be how to stay out of prison.  Because as soon as he is no longer the president and protected by the office various court cases are going to be reactivated.  

      The great question is, “Can Trump pardon himself”?  As far as I know, no president (even Tricky Dickie) didn’t stoop to self-pardon.  But just because something hasn’t been done before, it doesn’t mean that No Shame Trump won’t try it.   

     A more likely scenario is one that I have mapped out before which is, Trump resigns, Pence becomes president, pardons Trump, Trump becomes president again and hands over his trashed office a free man.   

     Though, to have a pardon is actually to admit that there is a wrong, so by pardoning himself, Trump will be admitting that he is a criminal.  But that won’t worry him, not with what is already on his grubby, grubby little hands!

     What scope does Trump have to Sharpie-sign yet more Executive Orders, because whatever mischief he can get up to like the spoilt child that he is, he will.  Bolstered by 70 million of his fellow citizens who voted for him, he will feel that he has a popular authority to do as he likes to make Biden’s accession as difficult and as messy as possible.

     Can anyone seriously imagine Trump graciously hosting Biden in the White House?   

     It is equally difficult to imagine Trump attending the inauguration, and one commentator has suggested that it is more likely that Trump holds a rally at the same time, so there will be a split screen of Biden and Trump and their various crowds.  Though that might mean that Trump will not do it because he will be terrified that his crowd could be smaller than Biden’s.  Though, even if it was, that would merely be an “alternative fact” which could be brushed away by the Mendacious Monster.

     This is surely one time when the “oxygen of publicity” should be denied to Trump (and yes, I am well aware of the source of that phrase and the poisoned outcome of its practical use) but if Trump continues to peddle lies he should not be given a worldwide media platform to repeat them.  But I also recognize the freedom of speech and freedom of information elements that have to be considered.   But  . . .

     I am sure that we are going to have a damn sight more than two months of pathetic interference in the political situation by Trump and his minions, but with any luck they can be swept into the dustbin of history.  Fond hope!

 

I am missing my swims.  I check the booking app that we were encouraged to download to book ourselves in for our activities to see if they are accepting reservations and the first day that there appears to be bookings waiting is for the end of this week – but they are not yet open to be made real, so I will wait a while to see if reality matches appearance.

     To compensate for my missed swim I am extending my daily (electric)bike ride and so now I cycle the entire length of Castelldefels and Gava Mar and while it is an impressively  long distance for me, my fitness app tells me that my journey is almost entirely on the level which, as it is beside the sea is logical.

 

We have started talking about Christmas and I am determined to put up my Belen (Christmas stable scene, with added people) this year as well as having a small Christmas tree.  The tree will be decorated with baubles made by SQB – just as soon as the parcel containing them gets here!

     The Christmas meal is altogether more problematical.  Toni will be devastated if he can’t see his family over the festive period and I think that we will have to make a trip up to Terrassa even if it is only a fleeting visit to bump elbows and then back again.  But time will tell just what we allowed to do.

     Amazon is going to make a fortune, sorry, an even bigger fortune this Christmas as everybody in the world decides (especially if they have Amazon Prime) that it is worth getting the presents from Amazon if only for the fact that postage will be free!  But we will worry about that much, much later.

     In a bout of what might be described as Gourmet Porn, I slathered my way through pictures of M&S hampers and noted with something approaching wistful regret that many of the high price items in some of the more expensive hampers are alcohol related.  As I now do not drink alcohol (I say for medical reasons, but what my doctor actually said was, “You can allow yourself one small glass of red wine a day” – as if that was possible! Better to recognize weakness in self-control and give it up entirely!) bottles of Champagne and Vintage Port do not attract.  Well, they do, but as I am not going to drink them, it would be fairly pointless to buy them and just look at them, or even worse, sniff them and retexture what they taste could be like from past experience of drinking.  And if that sounds like something I have indeed done, then you would be right in so thinking.

 

My new watch continues to please, though I have adjusted the always-on element of the watch face to turn off for the hours of deepest darkness.  My watch also startled me, by suddenly playing music, not a ring tone, real music.  It took me a while to work out where the sound was coming from.  If you had been watching me then you would have seen me taking out my mobile and being confused by the fact the more I tried to hear the music from it the more it wasn’t coming from it, and yet the music was tantalizingly near.  I am sure that my confusion only lasted a couple of seconds but it was deeply disturbing.  And frankly even more so when I found it emanated from my watch as I had done absolutely nothing to encourage it.  Honestly.

     It turns out I have one tune on my phone and I have little idea about how to put more there.  I will leave downloading the full manual for a sunnier day when I am feeling gadget strong.

 

I have downloaded an app or something called The Fussy Librarian which is supposed to provide a series of free or bargain downloads of books that you can read on Kindle.  My first choice of a Sci-Fi novel turned out to be short story length and to be part 1 of 7, and I can’t find the other six.  I fear that yet again, what appears too good to be true, is too good to be true.  Though I will continue to investigate and report back later.

 

Meanwhile the writing, apart from this blog, is not going well.  And the fact that some of the letters on the keyboard are misbehaving is irritating.  And the fact that one of the worst behaving letters is the ‘e’ is even more unbearable.

     Cotton buds and wet wipes must be called into play, because the cost of a replacement Apple keyboard is not to be thought about this close to Christmas.

A Resolution?

 

NEW LOCKDOWN: Day 9, Saturday.

 

An unsettled sleep, not because of cheese eating too late at night, but rather because we were awakened at 5 am by raised voices and the flashing lights of police cars. 

 

 

 

It turned out that an empty property next door but one had been occupied by a person who was homeless and the alarm system had alerted the police.  Given how loud the altercation was I was amazed by how uninterested our neighbours were, or perhaps by how soundly they were sleeping!

     Eventually three or four police cars were involved and a white van which had the locksmith.  So, after the shouting had settled down and the man was escorted away from the premises, we then had to contend with early morning drilling as the lock was changed and the outside gate was made ‘safe’.

     All the disruption allowed/forced me to look at my mobile and to gnash my teeth with frustrated impotence at the unchanging nature of Biden’s Electoral College vote.  And it was raining.  Which made my eventual earlyish morning bike ride a damper and more bracing event than usual.  Though I think that I have now worked out how to get my new watch to note my exercise and download it to the accompanying app.  Usually.

     The generally sullen climate and cloud covered skies forced me to turn on the newly installed (by me) light on the bike and I therefore blazed my way through the puddles and other stretches of standing water along the paseo.  The heavens only really opened as I got near home, so thought I was wet by the time I locked the bike up, I was not soaked and a few minutes in the tumble dryer was sufficient to get my shorts dry and warm and a quick towel was enough for other extremities.

     Considering how dull and unfriendly the conditions were, there were plenty of runners, joggers, striders and dog walkers.  We bike riders were definitely in the minority, but from our privileged position we are better able to observe the looks of dull, apathetic acceptance that runners and walkers possess when they are going about their voluntary exercise.  You don’t see many smiles from those on foot; you half expect to see electronic tags around their ancles ensuring that they complete their punishment.  There is nothing like freewheeling to show that you are living a life apart from the foot sloggers!

     So, after my ride, damp and self-congratulating, I yet again checked my mobile and then started to work out where the US of A must be in time relationship to us.  When you start that computation by saying to yourself, “Well, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so when it is lunchtime here, they must be waiting for lunchtime there” you realize that the accuracy is going to be limited.

     And, anyway, the glacial counting of ballots by some of the states is obviously being governed by a completely different time system altogether but, with the wisdom of past assemblies in my mind, “This too will pass” encourages patience and eventually even the Byzantine electoral system of that wondrous collection of states has come up with a result and, to the general delight of all my friends, Biden is going to be the 46^th President of the United States of America.

     And this is a time to rejoice and be exceeding glad, because One-Term Trump is dumped; or at least in our reality that is what has happened.  In a scenario that surely cannot be true, and yet with Trump anything is possible, he is scheduled to make some sort of speech in the Four Seasons Total Landscaping which is situated next to an Adult Bookstore.  You can’t make these things up!  With Biden at 290 Electoral College votes and counting, Delusional One-Term is not only claiming that he has won, but that he has “won by a lot”.  It is more than likely that the frivolous litigation will be blown away like the insubstantial shadows that they are and then we will be in for a most unedifying period from now to the January inauguration of the new President.

     How will Trump ‘play’ the transition?  I cannot imagine his being gracious in facilitating a smooth hand over of power!  And I cannot imagine many of Biden’s appointments to governmental agencies even wanting the half-wits that Trump imposed to pretend that they know anything useful about their positions.  Can you imagine Betsy DeVos having a meaningful conversation with a Democratic replacement about any aspect of education after one has listened to her embarrassingly revealing confirmation hearing?

     It is a long time from November to January, and during that time Trump will be president.  He still has the capacity and the wilfulness to create mischief.  Trump deliberately ignored briefings during his transition period to bring him up to speed with the workings of government: apart from the civil servants in government, who is there in the Trump ‘Administration’ who is capable of giving a meaningful briefing to incoming politicians!

     And can you see Trump sitting quiescent in the audience behind the new President in the company of other past presidents as the inaugural address is being made?  Carter, Clinton and Obama are Democrats, and Bush loathes him.  He is going to feel very isolated, especially if the other presidents are welcoming and civilized in the way they treat him.  Trump could usefully spend the months until January practicing his “naughty boy sulking, hands between his legs, tie dangling” stance that he adopts when with any other leader who momentarily takes attention away from himself.  Will he turn up?  Will he be able to bear it?

     Or will Trump take the opportunity of the next few weeks before the inauguration to stir up his base and encourage them to come to the ceremony with the intention of disrupting it?

     It is perhaps a sign of my desperation that I take encouragement from TikTok and brief videos that show young Trump supporters folding up their Trump banners and posting messages of support for the President Elect.

     Perhaps, after everything, reason will prevail and healing can begin.