COOLSTEIN MEETS TRUMPSTEIN with a little help from BROWNSTEIN. And it all turns out so well.

Behold. The fates and other esoteric forces have congealed and landed on DJT. When the smoke and other foggy stuff clears, what is left is a new variation on the personage. As events unfold, he will be known as “The Good Trump.” Brownstein is the force of nature behind this transformation. She is a wizard after all. She can reconstitute and reshape energy. Her mission was to bring out the Best O’ Trump. Which actually is the name of a candy bar Coolie is now selling at the Shoppe. It’s a little like Good & Plenty except it’s made of Jujube’s and jam (it only sounds bad – but tastes pretty okay.) Miss B drew on all the available magic – any less would have been ineffective.

How does the world absorb and accommodate this shape-shifting? With a good old emotional smorgasbord.

First we have the dancing-in-the-street crowd. Are they happy? Have their dearest hopes been realized? You betcha! Many classic styles are represented. We have the tango-ers, the Hora circle, quite a fair number of jazz hands (and feet), some slow dancing cheek to cheeky folks, and a hearty few doing an earth-shaking Russian Kasatsky.

Then we have the celebrate-till-you-barf folks, the indulgers who have few – if any – realistic boundaries. Let’s just say they are prone to taking things to the extreme, and then driving a few more miles. They crash and burn pretty quickly, and their group hangover is painful to even think about.

My favorites are the new true believers. They always knew everything would turn out. So they say, but I recall a number of down-payments having been made on property in Costa Rica. There were go-bags packed and practice runs taken.

All that is now moot. Since the new Trump is kind and generous and a great listener and not a narcissist. I know. It’s hard to believe.

Could this all be an act, designed to suck us into a state of unprotected bliss, only to have our property nationalized and our freedoms amputated one by one? Could be. Nah. The Trumpster is not really clever enough to be that diabolical.

But wait: the coast is not really clear. There’s Bannon, who is (I’m quite certain) in league with Lucifer himself; and the one I fear most of all – Jared the Underestimated. Donald’s consigliere is about to be given access to the world. He is tasked with reinventing the federal government and bringing peace to the Middle East. Sure. He can do that…can’t he? After all he’s a bright lad with no real experience and that’s all it takes. And – we should ask – what does it mean that Trump trusts him so implicitly. How can that be a good thing?

Grab your gold and go to the bunkers. Now.

Look for my new non-fiction book, FEAR OF LANDING, The stories we tell about commitment and their meanings. It’s available on amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Landing-stories-commitment-meanings/dp/1539179095/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1476027342&sr=8-3&keywords=karen+krett

Also available on amazon.com is my science fiction novel, RAYMÒN AND SUNSHINE, It’s about the relationship between an autistic man and a female android three hundred years in the future, when what was once seen as a disability is merely a difference. http://www.amazon.com/Raym%C3%B2n-Sunshine-Karen-Krett/dp/0692660887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1461866431&sr=8-1&keywords=krett+sunshine

You can find more information about me and my books at www.karenkrettauthor.com/

THE RANDOM NATURE OF PERSONAL ASSAULT.

For many decades it has been a common experience to enter a bank or such and have the door held wide for you by a scrofulous man, of indeterminate age, who is undeniably homeless. The intention of this act is not just to provide a helpful service but, rather, to induce a sense of obligation – dare I say guilt – in the person entering or leaving the establishment; the desired result to be a financial contribution to the door holder.

Personally, I seldom dole out money to panhandlers. Usually, I am a silent player in this little kabuki. Yesterday, as I walked through the door held open for me by a dirty-faced man in threadbare clothes, I said, “Thank-you.” He was pleased by the acknowledgement and gave me a rather loud, “Your welcome!” All good, right?

Wrong.

A few minutes later, when I exited through the doorway, the self-appointed doorman murmured a “good day, ma’am.” I knew that to continue to play my role, I would have to reach into my pocket and come up with some cash for his “trouble.” As the millisecond for that “correct” response came and went, the gentleman turned on me. I know, I know, all you compassionate upper westsiders, this is his gig. This is how he earns. I wasn’t exactly into playing the game, however, and – as I took my final step without coming up with a “tip” – he called after me…in a voice that hit me in the solar plexus: “HEY, OLD LADY.”

I’m turning 70 in a couple of weeks and it hadn’t bothered me at all. The number was just that. I feel good, not old. Nevertheless, the doorkeep’s assault on my dignity worked. The sound of the words made something real; they told the story of how others may see me now. A bit of a shocker.

The encounter recedes, and I will probably stop thinking about it in a day or two (or ten). But something has changed. With the help of my pissed off friend outside the bank, I have now crossed over into a new stage of age – not exactly “old” but more aware than ever that I’m not exactly young.

Look for my new non-fiction book, FEAR OF LANDING, The stories we tell about commitment and their meanings. It’s available on amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Landing-stories-commitment-meanings/dp/1539179095/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1476027342&sr=8-3&keywords=karen+krett

Also available on amazon.com is my science fiction novel, RAYMÒN AND SUNSHINE, It’s about the relationship between an autistic man and a female android three hundred years in the future, when what was once seen as a disability is merely a difference. http://www.amazon.com/Raym%C3%B2n-Sunshine-Karen-Krett/dp/0692660887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1461866431&sr=8-1&keywords=krett+sunshine

You can find more information about me and my books at www.karenkrettauthor.com/

 

DON’T THROW FAT CLOTHES AWAY

I may not be speaking to all of you, but I’m sure there are many of you who will nod in rueful agreement… But, I will only talk about my experience.

Over the last forty years, I have lost and gained from ten to seventy pounds at a time. Always with the fervor of the newly cleansed, I promise myself never to put those pounds back on. Nevertheless, as I was just attempting to zip up a pair of jeans I wore last spring and summer, only to give up in frustration (and with a touch of paranoia – did someone shrink them?), I could not deny that there is a very undesirable layer of extra flesh interfering with my process.

I rooted around in my closet for the next larger size jeans, but quickly recalled that I had thrown them and all the similarly sized clothing away in my more than slightly manic zeal. This is not the first time I’ve had to face re-stocking my closet with things I had discarded in the fullness of thinness.

Be cautioned by my – well, it doesn’t quite rise to the level of tragedy – let’s call it excessive and misplaced hope (for more on this please refer to my book, THE DARK SIDE OF HOPE, available  at  www.amazon.com.

Of course, I’ve vowed not to eat again until the zipper glides with ease. An easy decision to make, since I just finished lunch.

I will end with this refrain: Keep the fat clothes; you may think you know but you never really do.

Look for my new non-fiction book, FEAR OF LANDING, The stories we tell about commitment and their meanings. It’s available on amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Landing-stories-commitment-meanings/dp/1539179095/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1476027342&sr=8-3&keywords=karen+krett

Also available on amazon.com is my science fiction novel, RAYMÒN AND SUNSHINE, It’s about the relationship between an autistic man and a female android three hundred years in the future, when what was once seen as a disability is merely a difference. http://www.amazon.com/Raym%C3%B2n-Sunshine-Karen-Krett/dp/0692660887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1461866431&sr=8-1&keywords=krett+sunshine

You can find more information about me and my books at www.karenkrettauthor.com/

 

 

LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE: HE CAN’T HELP IT… or: Why they do what they do.

When girls of my cohort were young, there was a common chant that became interwoven in what was generally known as play:

First comes love; then comes marriage; then comes Karen with a baby carriage. (Of course, any name would do.)

We singsonged this as we jumped rope or played games with a high-bounce ball known as a “Spaldeen” (Made by Spalding – you can see the simple shift of emphasis). What we did with the ball was “turn over:” an act of physical coordination whereby the regular bouncing was placed under the simultaneous lifting and slight rotation of the leg, all on the beat of the half sung little stories we told.

Back to the message: There was an understood and expected flow to a little girl’s life. She would, it was preordained, become someone’s wife and then (not before), someone’s mother.

And what about the boys? Little did they know that there was a life path they were compelled to follow. They would marry “us.” They would become the Daddy and (back in the ancient days of my youth) – the expected breadwinner.

At that time, men weren’t raised to be sensitive and understanding; they weren’t taught to be cooperative and gracious. Rather, they were encouraged to be boisterous assholes, smacking each other around “playfully” with the occasional bloody nose or black eye merely a rite of passage.

Fast forward to the outcome of the female quest to wind up with the baby carriage. Women almost always succeeded; their programming was unshakable. Men were just not equipped to resist. Unfortunately, they were also not equipped to do a very righteous job of being a “life partner.” They tended to hang on to the qualities which served them in their pre-married state: a kind of babyish narcissism which generated a reflexive reaction to the new woman in their life. Isn’t she “Mommy” in a different guise? Won’t she: Pick up after me? Forgive all my infractions? Dote on me and find me to be the best thing she’s ever seen? Won’t she listen endlessly to my “story” without any observable trace of boredom?

Women, I don’t have to tell you that we have our work cut out for us. Civilizing or training (your choice) that man you just had to corral, seduce, charm is (you will quickly find out) a lifelong quest, a goal you will probably never achieve.

Which works better? To bitch him out on a daily basis for all his shortcomings, failures to learn, non-responsiveness, etc? Or to accept the limitations that come with the male territory, i.e. make the best of it and give him little grief when he acts in those predictable but quite undesirable ways?

You know the answer. You just don’t like it. Cause if we stop pushing at him to be different, then we must resign ourselves to the end of our quest to find the prince.

Can I hear that collective sigh of resignation? The dream must die, but life goes on.

Look for my new non-fiction book, FEAR OF LANDING, The stories we tell about commitment and their meanings. It’s available on amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Landing-stories-commitment-meanings/dp/1539179095/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1476027342&sr=8-3&keywords=karen+krett

Also available on amazon.com is my science fiction novel, RAYMÒN AND SUNSHINE, It’s about the relationship between an autistic man and a female android three hundred years in the future, when what was once seen as a disability is merely a difference. http://www.amazon.com/Raym%C3%B2n-Sunshine-Karen-Krett/dp/0692660887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1461866431&sr=8-1&keywords=krett+sunshine

You can find more information about me and my books at www.karenkrettauthor.com/

 

Maybe aging is just the accrual of losses.

That’s a provocative notion, don’t you think? If it’s true, then pass the gas pipe.

There must be, has to be (well, at least, should be) more to it. “It” being life.

What, you ask, about wisdom? The accrual of wisdom. Sure, sure. I give you the possibility that a certain amount of knowledge and understanding sticks to one’s ribs as time passes. And, if you hold your face just right – in a slightly emotionless pose with eyes conveying a tinge of “too bad, too bad – you are just an ignorant babe” (notice how I didn’t say, “slut”), you may convince the unwashed masses that you know something they don’t.

And even if you do – is that the central piece of your rather proletarian existence? I didn’t think so. Mostly, after the age of 30 (if you’re lucky enough to make it that long), a giant portion of your energy is devoted to not feeling the bad feelings that are associated with the loss of youth; the loss of a mother’s love (or father’s); the girl or boy that got away – who can never be outdone as an object of desire; the loss of aspirations of greatness. There’s the loss of muscle tone (maybe I’m getting ahead of myself); the loss of freedom (if you have joined a committed relationship); the loss of hope – that nasty fool’s gold of feelings; the loss of the dreams that propelled you to accept challenges and go for the gusto. And the loss of many beliefs, not the least of which is the belief that YOU are special.

Are you almost ready to burn the page? This is not for the faint of heart. And what to do in the face of all these losses?

Are you, perhaps, ready for a little good news? I thought you might be.

While Losses ‘R – unquestionably – Us, we can refocus to another, equally true aspect of reality. All the kings losses can’t keep us from putting ourselves back together again. Except for the deeply depressed or deeply Russian, we are internally organized to give it one more go – no matter how many attempts have failed or backfired or just simply turned to shit. HSE, for fuck’s sake (that’s: hope springs eternal, in case you couldn’t figure it out).

Around that next bend, on the next warm morning, when the broken windowpanes are replaced, when all the world is new again – we will prevail. Won’t we? Don’t you know that deep in your DNA? Sure you do. It’s the crazytime assumption that has kept us crawling through all kinds of nasty muddy soul-killing stuff. It will maintain us when true disaster strikes, when the sky is falling. The vast majority of us are programmed to dust ourselves off, begin to mercifully forget the pain, and start all over again. And again. And again.

As a species, we are weird and irrational. Against the backdrop of inevitable mortality, we expend and create with an intensity that seems beyond our mere flesh and blood nature. Don’t resist it, just embrace it. It’s gotten us this far…

Look for my new non-fiction book, FEAR OF LANDING, The stories we tell about commitment and their meanings. It’s available on amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Landing-stories-commitment-meanings/dp/1539179095/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1476027342&sr=8-3&keywords=karen+krett

Also available on amazon.com is my science fiction novel, RAYMÒN AND SUNSHINE, It’s about the relationship between an autistic man and a female android three hundred years in the future, when what was once seen as a disability is merely a difference. http://www.amazon.com/Raym%C3%B2n-Sunshine-Karen-Krett/dp/0692660887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1461866431&sr=8-1&keywords=krett+sunshine

You can find more information about me and my books at www.karenkrettauthor.com/