“Americanese”

From the Washington Post this morning (March 21, 2017):

Trump didn’t lie, Jeffrey Lord says on CNN. He just speaks a different language — ‘Americanese.’

What an outright admission of Trump sending “dog whistles” to his base of supporters. When I read this this morning, I thought of other “Americanese” expressions that Trump has been spouting:

“Make America Great Again” = Remove the brown people, give more money and power to the white people.

“Obama Wiretap” = You can’t trust those people.

“No Russian Influence” = Have more borscht, comrade.

“Largest inaugural crowd in history!” = In the history of ME, that is!

“Drain the swamp!” = Keep the poor white trash in the swamp, and hire my Goldman Sachs buddies into the White House!

“Build that wall!” = You don’ wanna know what’s happening behind these doors.

“Fake News!” = Bastards who keep figuring me out and exposing me.

“Dishonest Press” = (See “Fake News”)

“People are saying…” = Alex Jones and Infowars, Breitbart and Steve Bannon, Fox and Friends, a random plug-ugly toad, Richard Spencer, and a host of pimply adolescent boys, all tell me that…

“Alternate Facts” = Stuff “people are saying” to Trump.

The day after the inauguration, I wrote the post “Cautiously Optimistic,” in which I posited that I do not expect Trump to change, I consider him inadequate for the job, therefore, if I am right, he will fail at the job, and so if he is inevitably going to fail, he needs to fail fast so we can recover from this quickly. The “optimistic” part was that we have the US Constitution and the balance of power, we have true patriots on both sides of the aisle, we have the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and particularly the First Amendment. These are so ingrained in the American psyche that Americans across the political spectrum treat the constitution almost as Holy Scripture. Our whole society was founded on the idea of rejecting tyranny, so America just naturally spits tyranny out like baseball players spit out sunflower seed shells.

It’s been two months, and, so far, I have been right. Trump tries to doctor up his Muslim Ban in an executive order, and Federal Judges see through it and issue stays. Trump tries to control which media organizations get access, and it doesn’t matter, because his executive branch is a fountain of leaks. On top of this, Trump has remained Trump. He falsely accused Obama of wiretapping Trump Tower, and then did not back off when it was clear from his own agencies that this was completely false. He called U. S. District Judge James Robart a “so-called judge” in a tweet, when Judge Robart issued a stay on his travel ban. Federal Judges have been using Trump’s own comments as reasons to nullify his travel ban. In other words, Trump’s inability to filter himself combined with his  xenophobic tendencies toward Muslims provided enough ammo for the judges to shoot him down.

His incompetency at the job is showing. And throughout the campaign, and now into his presidency, he has demonstrated that he will not admit mistakes, and will not learn from his mistakes. This latter issue is a real problem. Everyone who walks into the Oval Office does so with zero experience at being president, and there is no job like it anywhere else in the world. Therefore, a new president will not know things, and will make mistakes. Kennedy had the Bay of Pigs. Clinton had the White House travel office. Bush Senior had “read my lips,” and Junior had his security missteps that possibly could have allowed 9/11. Presidents usually learn, and eventually avoid rookie mistakes. Except Trump. He is just not teachable.

Combine this inability to be taught with his continual lying, and you get a disaster, and that’s what we have now. The FBI is investigating his campaign for illegal ties to Russia and Russian influence in general; Trump greets this Russian aggression not as an attack on the US, but as a Democratic Party attack on him. His insane insistence that Obama wiretapped Trump Tower had his mouthpiece Kellyanne Conway idiot-splaining to us that hey, microwave ovens can watch us, and TVs can listen in on us! And, Trump actually joked with Angela Merkel that “As far as wiretapping I guess by this past administration, at least we have something in common, perhaps.” Merkel (and America) was not amused.

Now one of his enablers is saying his lying is really just speaking “Americanese.” He is speaking a language that his true American followers can understand, but which the un-American “elites” cannot. Trump is creating newspeak. He is lying to his followers, and they swallow the lies like Large Mouths swallow the bass plugs they fish with out there in the swamps. He has the audacity to call lies “Americanese.”

Two months in and this is happening. This is unsustainable. I’ve been telling my friends that I have the “under” on Trump lasting two years as President. What this means is that I believe he will be out of office before (or “under”) January 20, 2019. The way things are going, my prediction is looking pretty good. As I said before, since it is inevitable, the sooner the better.

I Still Have Her Meds

My wife has been gone for six months now. Conscious magical thinking has turned into internalized magical thinking. Early on, it was as if she was just in the other room, or was on vacation and would walk back into the house at any time. I knew this was not correct, of course, but the feelings were still there. As I write this, I know that six months is still “early on” but things do morph. One of those things is that it no longer feels that she is on vacation, or just around the corner. It feels like she never left, but just isn’t here.

It is so embedded in me that she is part of my soul that when I watch a movie, it is as if we are both watching the movie, instead of just me. Or that the room should be in a certain way because she likes it that way. Or that she will need her clothes. I just don’t want to be final about this. It is less conscious now than it was at the beginning that she is really gone.

Back when Jenny still had her transplant, one thing that became a ritual before we left on any trip was to be sure she had her medicines. When you have a transplant, the drugs you have are the drugs you need, and you cannot screw it up. And, they are not off-the-shelf. We once went to Canada, and Jenny didn’t bring a key medication with her, and it was a big problem to get her covered. So, we put in a requirement that before every trip, no matter what, we had her meds. We can get anything else on the road, but meds are sacrosanct.

The medication list for Jenny was extensive – thyroid meds, stomach meds, prednisone, and a whole litany of anti-rejection meds. The horrible thing is that these same meds ended up killing the kidney they were supposed to protect. Once your kidneys go, your life is not normal ever again – even with a transplant.  After years of being on these meds, her adrenal glands were burnt out. As a result, she was on a litany of drugs even after the transplant failed. They were awful, but they were required. Therefore, even after the loss of the kidney, her meds were first on the list of things to bring, always.

Jenny had a pink pill box she had since I first met her. It is a box that has four compartments per day, with sliding covers that opened allowing access to each compartment. Since she had AM and PM meds, each day’s slots contained two sets of AM and PM meds. Every two weeks she spent some time filling it up with the correct dosages for each slot. I still have the box, and it has the remaining dosages.

I also have one unopened package of Creon, an expensive medication that we regularly fought with our insurance company to cover properly. We have bottles of heparin, which is used in dialysis to thin the blood so that it does not clot during treatment. Jenny has a rolling med/dialysis cabinet with the jars right there, at the ready, along with alcohol wipes, some needles, and some paper barriers, at the ready. We have bottles of “binders,” which are drugs she took to reduce phosphorus, since dialysis does not remove phosphorus from the blood.

Within a week after Jenny passed away, we removed all the dialysis equipment and supplies from the house. The unit picked up her machines, the dialysis chair, and the boxes of dialysate, and cartridges, and fluid warmers, drain tubes, and all the rest. I knew I had to remove it asap and try to reduce the reminders as much as possible, this for my son’s sake, since nightly dialysis was so much a part of our lives. Having the dialysis machine in the living room gathering dust awaiting a person who would never return – no, that was not an option.

But for some reason, the medications were different. These were such a lifeline, in a different way than the dialysis machine was. We could always go to the unit or the hospital and dialyze if needed, but the meds were joined at her hip. To not have them was risking illness or death. Jenny has been on overnight trips without her dialysis machine, but never without her medications.

On her night stand was the unopened package of Creon. The bottle was in the pharmacy bag, the bag stapled shut. A few days ago, I happened to glance over at it, and I realized: I need to let go of this. The insane feeling of “this needs to be here, because she needs it” is hard to not feel. It’s involuntary. Looking at the rows of heparin bottles – they were a life line. They were part of her survival kit. Now, they are all scaffolding to save a life that is no longer in need of saving. It’s like looking at an eggshell from a bird that has hatched. Or like listening to an alarm blaring out from a building that has already been evacuated. The alarm is for no one – or rather, for a person who has already escaped.

Yes, I still have her clothes, too, and shoes and glasses and make-up, but they are not the same. These are things I can donate or give away to friends and family. These are completely different from her medications. If I got rid of all that stuff, and she walked back into my life tomorrow, we could always go and get more at the store. But if she walked in tomorrow and those meds weren’t there, she wouldn’t be able to stay. I know that that is crazy, but it’s true. I also know that it is not true.

It feels true, though. These medications were her lifeline, and now they are acting like a lifeline for me – a lifeline with no one on the end, because she’s the bird that flew away, leaving the nest and the broken egg shell behind, in unopened packages and nice neat rows of jars.

This last weekend, I started cleaning out the room. I got a bag out to put her meds in so I can take them to the pharmacy for disposal. I put in the bag the unopened package of Creon. I’m going to keep her pillbox.

 

A Rant on Airline Travel

[Ed. Note: I wrote this while on a flight home from Milwaukee five years ago today, back when I returned to consulting for a living. Business consulting means you must travel to clients since they will not come to you. Clients want you to come to them, but generally will not foot the bill for anything other than Economy-Class tickets. “Economy” in this case does not mean only financial economy, it also means economy in space, comfort, and dignity. With cheapness comes pain. I edited it slightly, and added some comments after.]

March 1, 2012

I am writing this on a United 757 winging our way from Denver to Portland, which is where I will get the connector to Bend.

On this trip, we were late out of Bend because of snow, I had to traverse TSA with its full body scan, had to endure a cramped window seat at the back of the plane and a cramped aisle seat on the next flight. I paid $25 to check my bag, which did not make the connection, and even though United swore they would courier me the bag that evening, I had to return to the airport to get my bag… and then no one was there. Luckily, I dialed enough numbers to find a guy in operations who came up to open the baggage office. An actual quote from a United employee at the airport was “we are slow, but friendly.”

I am now sitting in an aisle seat on a full plane, with a friendly, yet large, man on the middle seat. I am large, too, so I am listing to port as I write this, my left shoulder being hit every time someone walks by, including the flight attendants.

My first flight today was overbooked, and the gate agent was annoyed because I showed up “last minute”. I tried to get a seat assigned last night, but was unable to. I tried to get a seat assigned at the ticket counter, but the agent said to go to the gate. But, to the gate agent, it was “last minute”.

I would have been bumped, except one nice soul accepted the $400 bribe, and agreed to take a bus(!) from Milwaukee to O’hare to catch a new plane (a bus because the agent didn’t trust that the flight to ORD would make it on time).

Almost every time I fly United it is a pain in the ass.

But this is not a rant against United. Rather, it is a rant against the demise of American air travel. It used to be that flight time was an ideal time to to get work done – open the laptop or notebook and go head’s-down for some uninterrupted work. Flying was never fully comfortable for me, but it was generally less crowded and less cramped.

It is impossible for me to do anything but sit stoically and endure the flights (although I can at least type this out on my iPhone.) And it is too bad.

There is a better way to do this. Hell, if I could, I’d pull a John Madden and get a custom bus. But, really, I would say that if we abolish the TSA and allow people to get onto a plane without being electronically strip searched and carrying what they want, that would be a great start.

Then, if the airlines stop nickel and dime-ing people that would help. It is cheap and petty that United charges $25 per checked bag and $8 for a snack. United has sucked for a long time, but the cure for them is to provide first class service from employees who give a damn. If they do that then they could charge the premium they seem to think they are entitled to and cut the crap.

What we need is a premium version of Southwest. 

The upshot for me is that flying is now like entering a wormhole with nothing to do but turn off until you get to where you are going. From a business perspective that means I must charge clients for travel, since travel is now an opportunity loss. From a personal perspective it means that flying is awful.


Some thoughts, five years on:

I have probably logged more airline miles than at least 98% of Americans. There was a time in the late ’90s that I flew twice a day between Burbank and San Jose, and I did that for months. Virtually all my travel was business travel, and most of that was when I was with KPMG Consulting. When you do something like this for as long as this, you develop a level of skill that you don’t know you have until you realize other people don’t have it. You learn how to pack quickly and efficiently: to roll your clothes, not to fold them, and toss out the “packing squares.” You learn how and when to get to the airport. You learn that trying to carry everything on the plane is stupid. There is no need to be afraid of claiming baggage, and life is so much better when you have only one carry-on, except on airlines like Alaska, where you can gate-check your bag. You learn to carry snacks and to carry a filtered water-bottle. You also learn to fly in your suit – if your suit is comfortable (which all suits should be), it is better than jeans and cheap running shoes, and everyone treats you like royalty. This is, as Helen Reddy said, “wisdom born of pain.”

But knowing how to do it does not make it fun or easy. I am blessed now in that I don’t have to travel weekly anymore. I am wise enough to know that airlines are not going to change. Unless you pony up for a higher class, your ride will get worse. If there is a choice of driving or flying, I will rent a huge car with Sirius XM and drive. When self-driving cars come along, I will use a car much more often.

We are human, and we can never replace being with each other in person. And we cannot bring Paris to our front door. At least for now, we are stuck with the airlines.

However, traveling for work has become less and less necessary. The capability to do quality work remotely has only gotten better since 2012. Mobile networks are better, mobile phone technology is better, coverage is better. I literally can do my job anywhere there is cell coverage and electricity, which is most of the United States and much of the world. I have worked in parks with chipmunks at my feet, in cafes in London, and, yes, at the beach (Note: if you are at the beach, just enjoy the beach. Just because you can work there doesn’t mean you should). I currently work on the edge of a national forest. Who needs to fly?

Airlines will not get better. The only incentive they have is to pack more and more people into larger and larger planes. Technology will save us from this mess, not the airlines. Thank God for technology that lets me opt out of seat 37E.