The Bay Area’s 100 degree plus temperatures may not be back for the weekend, but it’s still holy sh*t hot. Things to do inside and out until the heat storm passes:
As previously mentioned, the recent dissolution of my marriage after almost nineteen years left me with a variety of thoughts on the hoary institution.
There’s nothing quite like being flushed down the relationship toilet after almost two decades of loyal servitude, but why focus on the negative? Instead, why not look to the future and explore some ways to modernize the marriage indenture?
After all, the institution is rooted in a Christian tradition that’s millennia old, so it’s way overdue for updating. I mean really, if you experience a heart palpitation or tear a ligament, is the Old Testament the first place you’re going to look for help?
Here are some suggestions for a more reasonable marital union than the decrepit institution we now use:
The contract marriage: Like any form of employment, marriage can’t be considered permanent anymore. How about a system where you sign up for a set period of time and conditions? You could do straight month-to-month, or any kind of more complex arrangement, like one-year intervals with infidelity limited to once incident per partner.
Phase of Life Marriage: Partners agree to marry for a functional period of adult life, like the wild years before having kids, the intense parenting years, or the post-kids-spend-all-the-money-before-you-get-old-and-die-in-a-home period.
Dartboard Marriage: instead of relying on an ineffectual internet dating services with the accuracy of a Chalcidic astrologer, accept the randomness of life and choose a mate from your state’s Random Partner Pool. Like the Wall Street Journal’s dartboard portfolio, choosing a spouse through sheer luck might beat the analytic approach.
Public domain image from the Newgate Calendar: Hannah Dagoe resists execution.
It’s perhaps best not to strive too hard to seek connections between news developments whose only obvious common element is that they are happening at the same–conspiracy madness lies that way.
And so do I. So imagine, if you will, some strange deep concatenation among these recent Bay Area news items:
Sounds like a pretty scary conjunction of events–I’m imagining myriads of citizens holed up in their apartments as 100 degree plus weather catalyzes crime and ‘roid rage in neighborhoods bereft of of police stations, while national leadership continues to fill its drool cup. And don’t ask your chaplain for guidance!
But it’s at times like this that you’ve got to buck up and look for the positive.
I’m not canceling my trip to China because of some crazy coincidences!
Why don’t we have holidays for the divorced spouses, the ones who got flushed?
Because history is written by the winners, baby!
Seriously now, it’s a common misconception that Mother’s Day is the holiday most hated by fathers. But I wouldn’t be surprised if a hell of a lot of dads joined me in hating Father’s Day even more.
After all, it’s a total joke–the Father’s Day holiday is designed to create a stage where everybody else in the family can act like they give a shi* about the old bastard for eight hours and then go back to looking forward to collecting on his life insurance.
Now that Mother’s Day is no longer on my calendar, I’m breathing a sigh of relief and taking back the day as Divorced Dad’s Day, or Triple D. I’d rather have my kids around, but since Black Widow Day makes that impossible, I’ll take the day as an opportunity to do whatever the hell I please.
Since it happens on a Sunday, there are a lot things I won’t do, since I can’t afford to wake up in jail Monday.
But I will have time to reflect on a lot of cheerful realities that I wouldn’t have had time to contemplate on the the last eighteen Mother’s Days:
I didn’t spend yesterday inspecting testicle-shriveling Hallmark cards.
I won’t spend any of today having to pretend I like anyone.
If anyone asks me what I’m thinking today, I’m going to tell them and watch them crap their pants.
While it wouldn’t be a good idea to go out and get Dogtown hammered on a Sunday night . . . . a little nip now in the morning couldn’t do any harm.
The driving range is fu**ing empty! Which is a good thing, since I woke up on it.
My mother is dead, and I’m divorced. I can live again.
Add 1 oz. grossly inflated real estate prices even in a down market to 2 oz. pretension.
Add self-righteousness to taste. Slowly blend in 1 oz. political incompetence and 1 oz. sleazy scandal.
Spritz with sexual ambiguity and faint reek of sidewalk urine.
Serve in a 12 inch tall tubular goblet; fluff until mixture rises to the top.
And for those of you driven to drink by ongoing tragedy in Bay Area sports venues, take solace in StarkedSF’s Boozing and Losing post, replete with drinks designed to drown your sorrow deep.
The much-idolized Shakira is the first name that comes to mind in the area of Columbian pop musicians, but the male star Juanes is making a name for himself in both music and humility.
Juanes just played in Los Angeles, where the L.A. Times said the musician is becoming known as “the Bono of Latin America for his activism.” His songs range from uncomplicated pop hits to the exploration of drug violence and the Medellin cartel.
This might be a guy you want to learn more about, and there’s plenty of music available, as well as a lot on YouTube. (See our separate post for an example.)
Next up? Possibly a Columbian double header tour with Juanes and Shakira?
Whether you are a veteran traveler looking for tips to make your life on the road easier, are dreaming of a far away vacation to get away from it all, or somewhere in between, the writers in the Travel & Culture Channel have information and ideas that will capture your heart, mind, and soul
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