CULTURAL TREASON

     I apologize for not being the guy you could count on for a little diversion with my regular blogs. It's a combination of many factors: writing FANCESTOR (the title I'm now going with), turkey hunting (not going well), and first and foremostly a sense that I no longer can compete. Case in point is my last week. Samm had to go to Germany which left me again house and animal sitting with Lassie Dog and Monkey Cat, which left Cheeky Monkey all alone back at my house with my roosters Samm, Teddy and Tessa. After my TV blew up, I gave up television. Then my CD player broke. Now my only diversion is two radio stations WJFF and WFMU, both decent but not 100%. So when they suck I have silence. So camping out at Samm's with her Amazon and CNN is a little like getting a good hotel room- with a dog and cat.
    My first indulgence wasting time was watching I LOVE DICK. I'd spent a weekend with the author  of the book the show is based on, Chris Kraus and her husband Silvere in the 90's, with my much younger, much more ambitious stripper/grad student girlfriend. The show is overtly artsy and based in Marfa with Kevin Bacon, sort of Marlboro Man meets Karen Finley. It wasn't bad, but without my curiosity and envy over Chris Kraus getting a TV show, I don't think I would've cared. I remember painfully watching Silvere try to split wood on Long Island as my girlfriend talked feminist polemics with Chris. I also remember his relief as I grabbed the ax and showed how to do it "correctly." He just smiled and told me how good I was doing and to keep it up and opened a bottle of wine. I know the game, but I no longer play it.
   After plowing through "Dick" I turned on CNN. What a week to have CNN!  The turkeys weren't gobbling and I was getting frustrated and worn out from 4:00 am alarm clocks. I had promised to build Samm a chicken coop while she was gone and my only other obligation was to keep abreast of history unfolding. And that is now a full time job. As the thermometer climbed to the 90's I drug my tools and some lumber up Samm's lawn and went to work. In between Comey memos, tweets, and appointments of special prosecutors, the pad for the coop took shape. The coop itself was a dog house with a history. I'd built it with my nephew Isaac in 1998 and when the neighbors saw it on their property it started a war. I told you it had a history. In any case it ended up at GNJohn's. John renovated and insulated for his dog GIRL. Then Pigpen Rothman cut in a nesting box in the side and for a time hens laid eggs there. Now it was coming back to me.I had to tear it apart and cut the roof off just to lighten it enough for two men to move it. Which we did, then.....
    Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. After the special prosecutor was appointed the Trump gave a commencement speech at the Coast Guard and whined that he was the most unfairly treated President in history. How can you compete with such absolute bullshit? I hadn't eaten all day, came in from the hot sun, had a beer and went down to the Inn to get a burger. The news was on and the bartender waved it off and scowled when I asked what had happened in the five minutes it took for me to get to the bar. She wasn't interested in the least. After I ordered my cheeseburger she told me it was hot dog night. Too late. I had already ordered my burger. So as I sat there with the voice of Trump droning over the TV, bit into my burger, I began to feel lightheaded. "You OK?" the girl behind the bar asked. I nodded took another bite. Then I realized I wasn't OK. I called her over. "If I pass out..." I informed my bartender "don't call 911. I haven't eaten all day." She scowled and told me to eat and not to dare pass out in her bar. That's the last thing I remember.