Speaking words of wisdom

I confess—I’ve had a bit of a week. So my earworm today is the Beatles’ “Let It Be”.

 

Crime matters

Okay, I confess that back in 2016, I thought Cadet Bonespurs was a kleptocrat, a chaos monkey and batshit crazy. I reckoned that he was mostly into the election and presidency for what he could grift out of it—and he certainly showed us over four interminable years how good he was at that.

And I suppose that I understood at some level that if he perceived that he could monetize his access to national security information from one of the best collection of agencies in the world, that would not be off the table.

But pretty sure “Caught red-handed with top secret documents stuffed in boxes along with old news clippings, empty potato chip packets and expired passports” was not on my apocalyptic bingo card.

And yet, here we are.

By way of evidence, I give you these two Twitter threads, because I have no words.

Well—except that carpet is a crime against humanity.

THREAD: What should we make of the DOJ's response to Trump's motion for a Special Master (among other things)?

— Renato Mariotti (@renato_mariotti) August 31, 2022

"As an initial matter, the former President lacks standing to seek judicial relief or oversight as to Presidential records because those records do not belong to him."https://t.co/ENwsvFo58G pic.twitter.com/FdsMB1HLjX

— Liz Dye (@5DollarFeminist) August 31, 2022

Also, God give me strength, but:

 

Or not

Here’s something else I saw in one of the countless shopping centers along Orchard Road in Singapore:

Yes—trainers that allow you to walk on beer; on Heineken Silver, to be precise. Heinekicks.

I don’t know why, and I didn’t bother to find out how much they cost. All I’m going to say is that the contents of the sole look like an entirely different fluid, and I am not here for that.

 

 

Eggsactly

So, while I was in Singapore, I went to their big shopping district, Orchard Road. I’m not actually a big shopper, but I thought I’d see what all the fuss is about. And there were, indeed, one shopping center right after another, lining both sides of the street, although what I found interesting was they all seemed to have basically the same high-end shops.

I mean, I could have got confused, but I’d see Gucci, Chanel, Prada, Miu Miu and I’d think, “Didn’t I see you at the last mall?”

Any road—here’s something a little out of my ordinary:

I’m not sure how I feel about it, tho.

 

 

 

Gratitude Monday: joyful heroes

We had a CEO update meeting last Thursday; it featured our head of HR, who works from home. She was in what I took to be her home office, and I noticed two pictures over her desk. I took them to by stylized portraits of the late Representative John Lewis (D-GA) and the late Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Friday I got around to emailing to ask her if I was correct. She said I was, and that on another wall she has a portrait of Nelson Mandela. They are her heroes.

I recalled a story in WaPo at the time of Ginsburg’s death, written by the paper’s theatre critic, and I sent it to the HR person. My comments on the three were as follows:

Mandela: forgiveness. (The man spent half his life in prison because White people did not want to give up power. Yet when he got out, he did not seek revenge; he forgave and moved himself and his country forward.)

Ginsburg: love of the arts. (In addition to being a thoughtful, meticulous legal scholar.)

Lewis: spine of titanium and a moral compass set to True North.

Over the weekend, I’ve been thinking about all three, and I believe they had something in common besides their commitment to social justice: look into their eyes in pretty much any photo or video; you’ll see a deep sense of joy. They had an immense capacity for joy, which I think kept Mandela going through all those years in prison and Lewis getting back up after repeatedly being beaten down by Whites with batons. And it kept Ginsburg steadfast in her interpretation of the Constitution.

Today I am grateful for people with the capacity for joy, because I believe that if you can feel joy, you will be inclined to do good. Taking pleasure in the pain or misery of others is not joy; those who do so are filling up on empty calories of junk food emotions. Those who experience joy do not believe we live in a zero-sum world, and therefore encourage the kind of rising tide that raises all boats, not one that raises some while sinking others.

I’m grateful for them for inspiring me to be better, also. I’m grateful to have been reminded of Lewis, Ginsburg and Mandela, and I eagerly look for the next generation of their like.

 

 

Rise up singing

School buses are out in force again here in the People’s Republic, so I guess summer’s over.

To mark the transition, let’s have Sam Cooke singing “Summertime”, from Porgy & Bess.

 

 

 

Birthday celebration

So, this happened.

While checking in to the Conrad Centennial Hotel, the fellow at reception asked if it was my first time in Singapore.

Yes.

What brought me there?

Otters.

…

(Actually, he and his colleague were impressed that I knew about the otter gangs.)

Also, I booked time off several months ago because Wednesday’s my birthday, so I thought I might as well spend it in Singapore instead of the District They Call Columbia.

Well, fine. He handed me some documents about the deal I was getting (breakfast included, $100 USD credit, plus more stuff and $30 USD credit), and then reached over and handed me this card:

“How did you guys do that?”

(Look, it was 0800 and I’d spent the previous 24 hours getting there while getting no sleep.)

He gestured to his colleague, who’d pulled out the card and personalized it.

Well, on the Thursday I was sitting at the hotel bar, drinking champagne, when I realized that it was gone 1900 and the hotel cake shop closed at 2000. So I told the bartender I was just going to pop over to the cake shop, and I’d be right back.

He said, “I’ll do that for you.” And he did.

And that’s how I came to be celebrating my birthday with an absolutely scrummy cake in my hotel room in Singapore.

Seriously, people—that hotel was the absolute bomb. Everyone there took amazing care of me.

 

 

 

All their glory

Did I already share these pix with you? I found myself taking so many photos of flowers while I was in Singapore, because they were so beautiful. I mostly have no earthly notion of what they are. Doesn't matter; they may spin not, neither may they toil. But Solomon never imagined such raiment.

What do you think?

 

 

Flora exotica

Okay, some more pix from Singapore. These are from the National Orchid Centre in the Botanical Gardens.

I’m not generally a huge fan of orchids—they’re fine, but seem to me a little stand-offish. However, seeing this exuberant explosion of them really is impressive.

See what I mean?

 

 

Gratitude Monday: relief from the heat

I know I’ve had air conditioning as my subject for Gratitude Monday before, but it strikes me as something that can be called out multiple times. (As is central heating in the winter.)

I was reminded of this in spades while in Singapore recently—Singaporeans have mastered the art and science of climate control to the point that you feel the AC as you go down the escalator into the MRT stations. It’s a much-needed relief, at least for me.

I got to thinking about it while there—because it’s interesting to me that the Euros and the Brits do not appear to have twigged to the possibilities of AC, and consequently tend to bake every summer, especially since we’re seeing the consequences of climate warming.

You can talk about the advances of Western Civilization all you want, but if your elderly and vulnerable are stuck in unheated/unairconditioned residences, and the rest go from hot offices to hot homes in hot public transportation, I think you need to recalibrate your chauvinism.

Meanwhile, I’m grateful for having central air—and the ability to pay the electric bill—all summer long.