Friday, May 30, 2025

Love and tacos

Remember when RWNJs were screeching that if Hillary Clinton won the 2016 election, we’d end up with taco trucks on every corner? Like that was a bad thing?

I don’t know how she didn’t win on that alone. But tacos are back in the news. Or, more specifically, TACO trades.

The term, coined by Financial Times writer Robert Armstrong is how Wall Street is referring to how the Kleptocrat’s “policy” on tariffs causes extraordinary ups and downs in the market. TACO stands for “T[he Kleptocrat] Always Chickens Out.” So, if you don’t like a tariff, just wait 10 minutes; he’ll back down.

(I don’t know how it took anyone longer than 10 minutes to figure out that he’d behave this way. I mean—it’s exactly his MO for his entire life: he blusters and as soon as there’s pushback, he folds like a cheap lawn chair.)

When a reporter asked him about it earlier this week, he got big mad. Quel surprise.

At any rate, in honor of the culture of tacos, guacamole, tequila and fried ice cream, today’s earworm is “Los Laurales”, from Linda Ronstadt’s Canciones de mi Padre album. It’s a love song about how the man to whom it’s addressed doesn’t seem to be committing, but it somehow ends up by saying that women are the downfall of me.

Which seems to cover all perspectives.

Here she is performing it with Mariachi Vargas.


©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Thursday, May 29, 2025

Defensive war

 I have a feeling that this is going to be a bad year for mosquitos in my part of The People’s Republic. Two and a half weeks ago I helped with cluster cleanup and got royally chewed up. Since then it’s like the original bites were the phosphorous flares marking the landing zone for the successive waves of real attacks—and we’re not even at the end of May.

The r/nova sub on Reddit is also indicating that it’s not just here—it’s all over Northern Virginia. So, it’s time for action.

In past years I deployed mosquito zappers, but—satisfying as it was to hear the ZZZZTs—it’s not clear to me how effective they were. Also—although I wasn’t unhappy to see moth corpses in the zapper grille, I don’t know how many good insects met their untimely end as collateral damage.

(If there are good insects.)

I also won't spray indiscriminately for the same reason. Although I have considered it.

But someone on Reddit urged readers to “Google mosquito bucket of doom” as a solution, and that brought me to something I think is worth a try. You partially fill a 5-gal bucket with water, mix in some leaf litter (making an attractive environment for female biters to lay their eggs and for the larvae to develop), but add a Mosquito Dunk, which murders the larvae wholesale. The lady puts all her effort into the bucket, but the babies never leave the maternity ward.

Viz:


I hope this is enough to get me through the summer. Through June, at least.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

New neighbors

So, I ran into this family on my walk yesterday morning.


They seem nice, although the parents aren’t too sure about me.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Vita brevis

The neighborhood sidewalk artists were at work last week—a rather complex narrative.





And then, after a couple of days of rain, this is what remained.

Sometimes not ars longa.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Monday, May 26, 2025

Gratitude Monday: Remembrance

As on all Memorial Days, I’m grateful for the sacrifices of the men and women who have served this country in uniform over the centuries. Who—volunteer or conscript, professional or amateur—fought and died because the nation called upon them to do so.

Unlike grocery shoppers in Buffalo, school children in Uvalde or parade-goers in Highland Park (what a great year 2022 was, eh?), they stepped knowingly into danger, but it doesn’t make their sacrifice any less painful for their loved ones. It also does not lessen our collective loss from the cutting short of their lives. It seems fitting that we spend at least one day a year honoring them.

There will be hundreds of people out at Arlington National Cemetery today, including many visiting Section 60, where the most recent arrivals are laid to rest. Families and friends will set up lawn chairs by graves, share a year’s worth of news and gossip, maybe drink a toast. It’s like El Día de Muertos, only in a lot of languages.

Although I did not know any of them, I join their families in remembering—and thanking—them.


 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Friday, May 23, 2025

No retreat

Apparently the job of being the leader of the free world leaves the incumbent a whole lotta time to devote to slagging off entertainers. In the past week, the Kleptocrat has tweeted negatively about Beyoncé, Taylor Swift and Bruce Springsteen.

The latter got far enough under the dictator’s skin that he followed up his initial verbal tirade with a spliced video of him hitting a golf ball that knocks The Boss over.

You know—the kind of thing a petulant acne-riddled 13-year-old with Windows Vista on his Dell Inspiron would put together to show his mates.

If he had any.

Anyway, today’s earworm Is one of my favorite Springsteen songs, which seems appropriate in these times more than ever. Crank up the volume for “No Surrender”.


©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Thursday, May 22, 2025

Fine wine

Yes, I bought it because of the bottle.

How does it taste?

I bought it for the bottle.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Good deed

I met this guy on the W&OD Trail last week.

He seemed pretty well plopped in the center of the path, and I was concerned because cyclists these days don’t care what they mow down. So I moved him to the side. He snapped at me, but at least he didn’t pee on me.

(When I was known as “[Bas Bleu], Redeemer of Reptiles” at William & Mary because I used to pull to the side of the Colonial Parkway to shuttle tortoises across the road before they became road kill, they used to express their appreciation to me in urine.)

Continuing on my walk, it occurred to me that I’d actually moved him to the side opposite to where he was heading, so on my return, I picked him up and set him down on the other side.

Snap, but no pee.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Give me the rep who's seen some things

My prescription insurer is Humana, the fourth largest healthcare insurer in the country. (Considering the business model of healthcare insurance companies, that means it’s a fucking big outfit.) The division that handles Humana’s mail order pharmacy is called CenterWell. Not an everyday brand, but as part of Humana, you’d kind of think it’s got some legitimacy in the field.

My primary care practice is OneMedical—as in Amazon OneMedical. (Don’t @ me; the preponderance of providers I’ve had there have been excellent, and you can always get an appointment when you need one. They also spend 20 minutes with you, instead of the industry-standard 15, or the 10 minutes I get at my orthopedic practice. And I’ve been with them since before the Amazon takeover.) Again—not hard to find or contact.

So it has been an absolute clusterfuck of an experience to get two medications my doctor prescribed for me into the CenterWell system…for more than two weeks.

I got the prescriptions filled for two one-month runs at CVS; after lab work confirmed that they were working, I used the CenterWell website to request a transfer. (During the second month, I received both emails and snailmail urging me to make the shift to save money.) I did everything as instructed and got online confirmation.

So when a week went by and I hadn’t received anything, I went back to the website. Seeing so signs of an order in process, I used their chat, where I allegedly got a human identifying itself as Sally. She informed me that “the fax we sent to your doctor was not a correct number.” She kept repeating, “The number we had was incorrect.” With some probing, I discovered that it took them six days to follow up the failure to connect, “[b]ut now we have the correct number and the new request was sent and we are waiting for your doctor to respond.”

Well, I terminated the chat and called their “customer care” line, where I spoke with Terri. She gave me the same improbable story: they only do this stuff by fax, and (implication) waiting six days to follow up is SOP. I still couldn’t get any sense out of my query as to why they didn’t have OneMedical contact details.

But, since I’m a girl who believes in redundant systems, I went to the OneMed portal and requested that they send the 90-day Rx to CenterWell. A little non-plussed to have one of the OneMedical staff ask for CenterWell’s name/address, as it wasn’t in their system, but I tracked it down and gave it to her. She said she’d sent them the prescriptions.

That was Friday.

Over the weekend I got two of these emails:

Which did not fill me with warm and fuzzy confidence. So I went online yesterday to find that CenterWell had no sign of having anything they were processing. (There was also no information relative to the email—I clicked on the link and got nothing that would tell me what provider or medication their email referred to.)

In chat, “Julia” kept repeating such vapid, banal phrases—wrapped around the reality that she’s “mute” and therefore cannot do anything that would help break the logjam—that I asked her if she’s a bot. She says no, but…

Anyway—a call to customer care, where I get Belinda. Belinda has clearly seen some things. Belinda listens, checks up my history (seeing that I’ve been getting the meds filled at CVS) and says, “I’m going to call your doctor while you stay on the line. We’ll get 30 days at CVS, and when 15 days have passed, it will automatically trigger the 90-day request for mail order.” And she did it. While I was waiting, a notification came in from OneMed that they were reviewing the prescription request, and 15 minutes later, I had the confirmation.

But here’s the thing: two bloody multi-billion dollar companies with systems out the wazoo couldn’t get shit done for two fucking weeks until one woman called another. It shouldn’t have required that.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu

 

Monday, May 19, 2025

Gratitude Monday: Avian amusements

There’s no getting around the fact that I am easily amused. And there’s no greater example of this than my joy in watching the birds in my backyard. Two recent incidents:

Baby finches—standing on birdseed—harassing dad to feed them:

Cardinal really getting into a bath:



That’s my gratitude for today.

 

©2025 Bas Bleu