This is the end…

Jim Morrison’s ghost might disagree, but this ‘end’ is a good one. Mostly.

The Covid-19 pandemic, the scourge that has so far killed millions worldwide, is slowing down in most areas, thanks mainly to widespread vaccinations, and most people’s willingness to be vaccinated. Alas, the deadly virus seems to have only caught a new headwind in new other parts of the world, and is decimating entire nations. A new variant of Covid-19 is infecting hundreds of thousands daily, with some estimates already putting the death toll there at more than a million. Vietnam has also just found an even more potent variant within its borders. And the Copa America football tournament was just moved to Brazil from Argentina, due to a sudden rise in Covid-19 cases there.

I am, however, going to be positive fo once and stick to the good news. Here in the US, state after state is limiting all restrictions and completely reopening, as a result of the fast-rising vaccination rates. Where I live in Pennsylvania, all restriction may be lifted as soon as this Monday.

And boy is that a good thing.

We will once again be able to mingle amongst each other, talk and interact without muffled voices, standing far apart, all the while worrying if we are precipitating our own demise. We won’t quite reach herd immunity, because there are still those among us who refuse to be vaccinated, citing the stupidest conspiracies as reasons against what global science has accepted as truth.

Well, at least they won’t be hurting the intelligent and reasonable among us.

All that is to say, go out and enjoy yourselves again my fellow Americans, and our British friends across the pond. Fear not the specter of death and disease, except for the usual stuff, you know, STDs, alcohol poisoning…

Go forth and make good decisions, gentle readers.

So...

No, not the Peter Gabriel album. Good album though.I’m just trying to find a good intro into this long-overdue update.

Here goes.

About A month before I moved to Pittsburgh, father started showing signs of… well, completely falling apart! He would squat down but then was unable to stand back up, to the point that I had to call 911 for a lift assist a couple of times. He would slur his words and completely forget how to do simple things; routines he had done thousands of times before. Things like writing a check, taking his meds, and even making tea!

Father improved a bit for a few days, and I dismissed it all to old age. I wish I hadn’t. After I left for Pittsburgh, his friends found him outside one night in his apartment’s parking lot, confused and in very bad shape. They called 911, and my father was about to be pronounced dead as he arrived in the hospital when he was revived. After two weeks in the hospital, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and is now in a long-term care facility, where he will live out the rest of his days… however long it may be.

Since I moved to Pittsburgh, I’ve had to coordinate father’s paperwork for his stay at the nursing home, and assist his friends and neighbors the best I can to empty his apartment and re-home Mozart, Julie, Pacca, and Mr. Birb to new homes, where they can be happy and live their lives. Those poor pets; I feel so guilty about taking their daddy away from them, and taking them out of their home where they had lived for so many years. Heck, Julie was born in that apartment!

Worse yet, I feel guilty about father. It’s true there was no live lost between us, but I still can’t help but feel like an asshole for leaving him on his own when I did. The last month I was there, I did my best to take care of him but I was pushed to my physical limit, and he hadn’t even hit his worst yet. The constant worry and the responsibility for everything also took an emotional toll on me, so I know full and well I wouldn’t have been useful if I had been there.

Still… I can’t help it. Father’s life has been turned upside down, and I feel horribly guilty about it. Had the situation been reversed, father probably wouldn’t have cared one whit, if his past performance as my father is anything to go by. But I’m not him. I feel bad about it all. It may be because I had to make all the arrangements for him; coordinate the removals and discharge of all his things. I don’t know why I feel guilty.

It’s just how I feel.

After "After Life"

Ever since I became disabled, my incapacity for suffering fools gladly has diminished to an almost negligible level. I just don’t care anymore, you know? There’s just no point to worrying about getting hurt in a fight, is there? Let the assholes do their worse; let them start a fight with a crippled man. If you park in a disabled parking spot and are able-bodied, if you cut in line in front of me, if you mistreat the waitstaff… I’m going to let you have, both barrels blazing. Schmucks don’t deserve to get away with it just because.

And it was this incapacity for douchy behavior that I share with Tony, Ricky Gervais’ character in the heartbreaking and funny Netflix series, “After Life.” But the similarities between me and Tony end there. His rage at the world of stupidity and inconsideration that surrounds us is brought on by the loss of his beloved wife to cancer; a tragedy that has left him angry and suicidal. In fact, that is indeed where we meet Tony in the first episode; overcome with grief and ready to slash his wrists in a tub, only to see his dog’s sweet face and wonder who would take care of her if he offs himself.

Now, if you know anything about Ricky Gervais’ work; from the original “The Office” to his hosting the Golden Globes and all other variously brilliant series and movies, you know he pulls no punches. And he carries on that tradition in “After Life”, especially in the first series, more especially because Gervais wrote and directed all episodes. The angry Tony is crass, in-your-face, and more often than not, cringe-inducing. He has nothing to lose, since he still plans to kill himself, and is sick and tired of people who haven’t suffered as he has but are still assholes and inconsiderate morons, and waste their lives being so.

I must admit, watching the first series, I cried more than I laughed. As she was dying, Tony’s wife Lisa recorded messages for him, trying her best to keep him the happy man-child he was. Tony watches these videos as often as he can, but instead of strengthening his soul they break his heart.

Things begin to change in the second series, as Tony meets new people, all played by brilliant comedians and actors well familiar to fans of British sitcoms and panel shows. Lest you forget, Tony remains his crass self (parts of the episodes are downright unbearable), but his willingness to live and keep on living takes a few turns. I’ll stop here; I’m not a trained critic and I’ll probably just spoil the whole thing for you. Suffice it to say, if you’re a fan of Gervais, as I am, you’ll love “After Life".

And if you’re not… you and I will probably never get along.

Oh The Places I Have Been!

Okay, okay, so I just went back to Buffalo. But this is about what happened the two weeks I was there, and how I wound up back in hell on earth.

I arrived Sunday night, exhausted after three flights and famished since I hadn’t eaten since saturday evening. I refuse to pay $9 for a small sandwich, no matter how good it looked, or how hungry I was. Thankfully, I found some very helpful youngsters at the hotel who helped me take my luggage upstairs to my room. I then went to sleep, thankful the trip was finally over.
the next morning, Monday, I called the rental office of a room I had qualified for but refused because it had no kitchen, not even a fridge. I figured I’ll make it work somehow, maybe I’d even be forced to change my eating habits and lose some weight! Hey! Wouldn’t that be something?
The lady on the other side of the phone remembered me, and looked up my file and… told me I hadn’t passed the credit check in the first place and whoever told me I had qualified was mistaken.
Dashed!
And just like that, I was right back where I had been back in February… no money for a security deposit and limited cash for the hostel. Yet, I soldiered on and kept calling listings and looking for a room to rent. Maybe this time, I hoped, I’d catch a break. Maybe someone will take pitta on a disabled guy and accept the state contract instead of cash for security deposit. Maybe this time will be different.
Just maybe.
Even when I was forced to sleep outside Starbucks the next Monday night, in the freezing rain, I kept hoping for a better outcome. Even Tuesday night, still outside Starbucks on the sidewalk, my backpack and small duffel bag next to me, sunk into my fleece lined jacket but cold and in pain, I hoped and hoped and didn’t give up hoping.
Then, with only half an hour to go before 5 am when I could go back inside Starbucks and warm up… I fell asleep for about 20 minutes and woke up to find my backpack and duffel bag had been stolen.
…

In one fell swoop, I lost my laptop, iPad, DSLR, headphones, ALL MY MEDS!! even my socks and underwear had fallen victim to someone who saw a disabled man in trouble and decided the thing to do was to rob him.

That sealed my fate and brought me back to the worst place someone down on their luck could go. As I had expected, the ridicule, the derision, and the belittling began the first night, and is yet to stop.

As I write this, my gastritis has once again after 14 years, flared up and I’m working on an ulcer. All that on top of my usual spine and nerve pain.

Let’s see what life has in store for yours truly next.
I’ll keep you posted.

LISTEN UP!!!

A few days ago, I was listening to NPR explore the many sides of this year’s presidential elections as I whiled away my currently very boring existence when I heard some “young progressive” say the thought of voting for Biden made him “physically ill.” In the days after, I heard others, people of different ages, gender, and political leanings hem an haw and a few of them even breaking out the old “I’m not even going to vote this time” gem.

Okay, let’s see. I will concede Biden may not be the Democratic candidate we all wanted, but he’s the candidate our chosen/given electoral system has produced for us. Yes, he’s old. Yes, he’s given to gaffes and emotional outbursts. And yes, his legislative past has blemishes. But, and boy is this a big but; even bigger than Kim Kardashian’s, your only other option is Trump.

Your. Only. Other. Option. Is. Trump.

And we all know (and by ‘we’, I mean those of us with a brain and a conscience) Biden is a MUCH better choice than “The Donald.” Heck, a trained chimp is a much better choice for anything than Trump (my apologies to chimps everywhere.) As to why we only have those two choice of who runs our country for the next few years, I’ll refer you to our woefully inadequate and painfully antiquated system of politics and elections. It should change, and soon. By that I mean we all should demand it change and for the first time in a long time, truly represent America and its culturally diverse and multi-ethnic population and hope to finally bring us all together to face and solve the many, many troubles facing us as a nation.

But that isn’t the focus right now. No matter his perceived failings, Biden is our only hope to rid ourselves of the ‘cult of Trump’; the lies, the racism, the treasonous politics, the hateful rhetoric, the xenophobia, the science denials, and the nationalist chest-thumping that has made America the laughing stock of the global scene and has left many important issues unattended and unresolved (North Korea, anyone?).

So swallow your ‘vomit’ and quit your moaning and go out there and vote for Biden. Only after Mr. Tax/Draft Dodger has left the White House can we fix the electoral system and then you can vote for some progressive millennial hipster who would put a Tesla in every garage and tofu in every pot.

May the heavens have mercy on us all.

Is Zizou the best manager in soccer?

As the much delayed and some what truncated European soccer season finally approached its end, various soccer websites asked this question. It came on the heels of Real Madrid winning La Liga; to be fair, FC Barcelona threw the title away after a series of horrid performances after the restart, but I digress. The league title went to the Spanish capital after residing in the Catalan capital for a good many years, adding to their recent historic success in the Champions League with the bald French legend at the helm, and prompting the question:

Is Zinadine Zidan currently the best manager in European club soccer?

In a word… no.

This is not just the cule in me talking, either. There are two other managers who may have fewer trophies overall, but have proven to be of stronger managerial stock; their ability to adapt their style to different leagues and remaining at a high level of excellence puts them, in my opinion, above the Frenchman as far as the ‘best manager’ question goes.

I am of course talking about Pep Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp, two globally admired bosses with a long history of achievement. Guardiola of course also has a special place in mine and all Barca fans’ hearts, owing to his unprecedented trophy laden record with the blaugrana, both as a player and manager. He then replicated that success with German giants FC Bayern Munich before moving on to the English Premiere League with Manchester City, becoming the architect of the Cityzens’ historic current form.

Success has also followed Klopp from Brussia Dortmond, where his style of fluid football and affable personality brought him much love from players and fans alike, as well as bringing the (other) German giants series of successes and making fans of us all, all around the world. It has taken him a while, but after moving to Liverpool from Dortmund, the bespectacled German has brought Liverpool back to the top of European soccer; a place it hadn’t occupied since its glory days in the ‘80s. The Reds won the UCL trophy last year, and won the Premiere League this season by a 22 point gap over Pep’s Man City, after 30 years.

These two men have consistently proven brilliant and highly capable from one club to the next, country to country, while Zidan has only managed Real Madrid, starting with the club’s youth team in La Liga Segundo, before making the transition to the senior squad. He is also hampered by the club’s president, whose tactics and demands have kept Real Madrid from assembling true world beaters like they had during the club’s “The Galacticos” era; their trophies constantly marred by controversial calls and questionable tactics by players (looking right at you, Sergio Ramos!), so on and so forth.

This is not to say Zidan won’t someday soon conquer Europe and maybe even the world as the top manager in soccer. He is certainly capable of accomplishing that very feat. However, right now, as we speak…

He’s not it.

A word, if I may.

Recently, a lot has been going on regarding the numerous statues, flags, and other symbols of the confederacy spread across the US and in many aspects of our American lives. Most want those symbols removed and/or replaced, whereas some decry their removal and/or replacement as “losing our heritage” and “rewriting history”, so on and so forth.
No such voice has been more cacophonous than Trump’s; not only does he lament loss of American history, he calls those confederate figures whose statues line avenues around the country, “American heroes”, and blaming the democrats and the protesters for wanting to “indoctrinate our children”, blah blah.
But here’s the thing.
Has Trump or anyone else seen any Stalin statues in Russia? Any memorials to SS soldiers in Germany anywhere? Anyone celebrate Pinochet in Chile recently?
No.
Because while the Russian, German, and Chilean people, among many other across the world, recognize those people as part of their heritage, they’re don’t glorify their atrocities and the negative impact they have had on history. They exist in museums and history books; warnings to others to be watchful of similar so called leaders and political movements.
A people’s history is a source of pride and identity; our unique fingerprint among hundreds of other nations. But there are always dark segments of that identity; parts that are sources of shame and maybe even guilt, that while important and worth remembering and study, should never be celebrated and revered.
How a nation deals with those dark segments is truly how it is identified in our world today. Let’s not be known as oppressors and bullies, as racists with an outdated and debunked way of thinking.
Not anymore. It must stop here. It must stop now.

On "Rights"... and Other Fallacies

When I lived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, those many moons ago, I noticed there were too many car accidents for the few properly functioning cars that existed there, especially considering the complete lack of paved roads where motor vehicles could travel at any actual speed. These weren’t fender benders, either. The car accidents in Dar es Salaam were, more often than not, horrendous fatal crashes; the mangled wrecks blocking the mostly dirt roads for hours.

What the hell was going on?

I asked Ali, the embassy secretary, if he knew anything about that mystery. A usually jovial sweet young man, Ali’s face retained its sunny demeanor as he said “Because nobody gives up their right of way.” Huh? “Oh sure,” he went on “if someone has the right of way, they won’t stop for anything or anyone.” Even if they know they’ll crash?!? “Sure. They refuse to give up their right. It might have something to do with our colonial past… I don’t know really.”

What is going on here in our country is just as baffling to me. In the middle of a global pandemic, so many people refuse to wear face masks, citing their “constitutional right” as the reason for not doing, quite literally, the least they can do to keep Covid-19 from spreading further and killing even more people than the hundreds of thousands it already has. Many even go as far as make huge scenes of their acts of ‘defiance’, throwing things and screaming at those who point out their stupidity.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

This of course has a lot to do with Trump and the moronic way he has and does deal with issues to do with the virus. It is no coincidence that many of his base exhibit the aforementioned behavior; even the ‘Karens’ and ‘Kens’ whose videos continue to go viral often spurt random anti liberal gibberish. The rest of it is just…

Stupidity. I honestly have no other explanation for it. Anyone who sees all the scientific evidence the world over and still believes COVID-19 to be a “hoax” can only be described as utterly stupid. I mean how hard can it possibly be to wear a piece of cloth over your mouth and nose when you’re out in public? Okay, it can be a bit annoying; it muffles the voice and can be a bit sweaty, but it saves lives.

Yours and mine.

That’s right. You can scream all you want, falsely, that you have the constitutional right to not wear a mask, but what about my constitutional right to keep alive? You know, to pursue life and liberty, so on and so forth. I can’t do all that if I’m dead, can I?

Assholes.

Here’s why…

You haven’t seen any posts to do with the racial equality movement happening these days.
As a middle eastern born man, I’ve faced my own type of prejudice since arriving on these shore those many moons ago. My brown skin, the unfamiliarity of the Farsi language to the average American, and the fact that, for whatever reason, I look Hispanic (something to do with my maternal ancestors I’m told) have brought me face to face with a special kind of ignorance and judgement.
Of course, none of my experiences remotely resemble what happened to George Floyd and countess other black people living in the US and the world over. I’ve never been arrested because of my brown skin; subjected to brutal police tactics, had my life threatened, or chased away from places. But still, I’ve felt the tip of that heinous sword poke at me, and I’ve never understood it.
I’ve always believed in being nice. Ask me about my general belief, and I’ll tell you ‘Don’t be a dick.’ You don’t have to belong to any religion sect, race or nation, to just not be a dick. Simply put, don’t hurt anyone. Help when and however you can. Don’t cheat and/or steal. Don’t treat others any way you wouldn’t like to be treated.
Continue along those lines.

And that’s why I don’t post anything about what’s been happening to my social media. Equality across the human board should be built into our being, not something we occasionally post about on Facebook whenever it appears on the national radar; to garner attention to your account and show off how good a person you are, only to forget about it in a few days and go back to posting scantily clad videos of yourself to your stories.
There are a good many pseudo/celebrities out there who genuinely care about racial justice, but they’re so few and far in between that they get lost in my modest feed. Even they give up after a while and go back to promoting whatever product or media they’re working on at the moment. That’s why I’m sitting back and listening; learning and hopefully improving as I do.
Everyone should care about social justice and racial equality without any prompt. Being a decent person isn’t an occasional hobby. And there’s a very simple way to remember how to do it.

Just don’t be a dick.

Guilt As Charged

Gentle readers, I’m in crisis.

Okay, what else is new. But this time, it’s a crisis of conscience. Like most of you in the states, I received a $1200 direct deposit into my bank account a short while ago. And also like most of you, I immediately set out to spend it. I paid a few small bills, bought a Blu-ray or two, and started pops off down the BD road as well by buying him a basic BD player.

But my major purchase was one I had waited for patiently for a long while. I bought a beginner DSLR; a Canon EOS 250D, better known stateside as the Rebel SL3, with a basic kit lens and an additional 50/1.8 prime lens, so I can finally get started with that whole photography thing I’ve been fussing with for so long.

Yay!

But you see, that’s where the guilt comes in. I only received that money because of a scary virus that so far has killed over a million people worldwide, around 95000 of them in our own country. It continues to wreak havoc and take lives as our worthless president is only worried about his re-election campaign. So many people have and continue to sacrifice everything to save lives; families go hungry and worry if they’d have a roof over their heads tomorrow… all manner of misery you can image is befalling decent people, and here I sit with a shiny new camera in my grabby hands.

How am I supposed to make peace with that? How am I not going to feel guilty in the pit of my stomach every time I take a silly little photo with that camera? Should I have donated the money to a food bank or some other charity? I didn’t though. I used it for myself.

And that just adds more fuel to the fire in my conscience.

Maybe I’ll heed the advice Tom Hanks have to Matt Damon in “Saving Private Ryan” as he lay dying in the battlefield. Maybe I’ll do something good with that camera. Maybe I’ll bring about big changes in some way. Maybe I’ll benefit humanity with it somehow.

Some massive maybes, those.

But for now, I’ll just deal with that pang in the pit of my stomach. And as far as those maybes… I’ll keep you posted.