Prattling Panjandrums of Positivity vs. the Nattering Nabobs of Negativism
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First of all, screw Spiro Agnew. But lately, I think his crime of alliteration, complaining about “nattering nabobs of negativity” in the press, can be applied to most social media interactions. We often dismiss any good news with whataboutism. Scientists working on climate change have made a concerted effort to focus on the good news so we don’t give up. That’s a link to a transcript of the Daily Rally podcast, from Outside Magazine. I’m very thankful when podcasts are transcribed, because not all of us like to listen.
I would encourage people to make sure there’s a piece of what you do that builds you up. Jump in the water if that’s your thing. Whatever your water is; there isn’t a right or wrong water. But get in it and go there and sit by it. Put your feet in it and splash and dive under it, and float on it and get it in your ears and up your nose and just do it.
If you’re feeling crummy, get in the water. If you’re feeling creatively blocked, get in the water. If you’re feeling a lack of peace in your mind, get in the water. If you feel like you want to connect more deeply with someone you care about, get in the water together.
Find your water. My water is the woods, and exploring it on my feet, or two or four wheels is how I renew myself. I took a ride this morning and mostly saw robins, but I’ve seen mockingbirds, bald eagles, crows, red-shouldered hawks, blue herons, beavers, friendly dogs, friendly people, red-headed woodpeckers, turtles, blue jays, deer, caterpillars, fence lizards, tree frogs, fiery searcher beetles, ground bees, butterflies, and a bazillion Canadian geese on my morning hikes and bikes. They renew me. Maybe I renew them, too.
It’s also tick season, and I already found one. Thankfully not attached, nor in my crevices. One night I slept in a cow pasture—which was the extent of rural Minnesota hospitality given by a family whose daughter I was helping move her things out of storage—and my sleep apnea was welcome, because it kept me awake enough to feel when a tick had crawled under my clothing. That gave me time to grab it and toss it into the fire we’d made from dried cow patties. The family did let us use their sauna, which warmed us up for the night’s sleep. A pallet on the floor inside the house would have been nice, or a meal, but that’s the difference between Mediterranean cultures who made inhospitality an offense against the gods, and the ice people think giving you a dry-ass piece of wasa cracker obligates them to defend you in a blood feud or whatever.
But I digress; ticks are out in force. And why can I put a drop of goo on my cat’s shoulders once a month and protect him from ticks, but I need to slather up with DEET every time I step outside? Apparently humans aren’t hairy enough for that to work, and I’d like to show that scientist my back, and beg to differ.
Another form of renewal is planning travels. Sarah and I are going to Iceland, and I will try not to fall into a volcano. Less dangerous and less far,
and I have planned our next adventure. We will be kayaking through the ghost ships of the Potomac! I’ll have a waterproof GoPro strapped to my chest, and maybe Hannah will have her camera gear. I have never kayaked before; Hannah has. I have another kayaking trip in the Pine Barrens booked for the week after, and if I like this enough, I will probably get my own boat. I own a Subaru, after all. At some point the Daughters of Bilitis are going to ring my doorbell and ask where’s my roof rack with the canoe, and fine me daily like an HOA.I tore down the paywalls on my older posts, Mr Gorbachev. Because fuck it, if you enjoy what I do, please consider chipping in for gas money. I don’t wanna be a douchebag with a “Cash, Grass, or Ass. Nobody Rides for Free!” sticker on the car. My short stories will continue to be for paid subscribers only, because I gotta give them something. You currently get access to 21 short stories, including a few that aren’t available anywhere else. So have at the archives! There’s a lot of cool stuff in there like That Time I Go Beat Up, when
visited the Lounge Pit, and my gushing synopsis of that bi classic, the Epic of Gilgamesh. And of course, a lot of ghost towns of the Pine Barrens.I plan on posting some blasts from my blogging past here each week, from the MadMaxathon to my deep dives into John Carpenter’s The Thing, Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, writing to Harlan Ellison as a teenager, visits to roadside attractions, and more. I recently stumbled upon photos from my 1998 trip to Burning Man, and I think a 25th anniversary post is in order.
Now I’m going to share a few reads, listens, and whatevers that I think will help keep things positive without turning toxic. Because there’s a lot of bad shit going on, but we are fighting it. Some we’re winning, some we’re losing. The two Tennessee reps ejected for speaking up against gun violence are back in their seats, and more powerful than before. North Carolina may have gone red, but Wisconsin took the first step in overturning the gerrymandering that has turned it into an undemocratic theocracy for the past decade. (For daily politics, which I usually try to avoid, I like Heather Cox for a reasoned take on things.)
While the original nerd rivalry was between Star Trek and Star Wars, I preferred to live in the worlds of Indiana Jones, Mad Max, and Ripley of Aliens. Brian White of Cinema Suicide ranks the Mad Max series here, and while I may not necessarily agree with his final decision, I enjoyed the hell out of reading it:
I don’t listen to many podcasts because the readers can put wild beasts to sleep. If I share a podcast like Tides of History or Arnold’s Pump Club, it’s because they won’t put me to sleep. Here’s another:
What if your town decided that the bridge to your neighborhood was too expensive to maintain? That happened to the denizens of Long Beach, Connecticut, when Bridgeport decided that their namesake was a burden. Matt Christopher of Abandoned America gives a brief, harrowing, and interesting history of the resort and cottage town and its demise by government neglect:
Hannah wrote a wonderful piece about grief for Shenandoah magazine; you can read it, and their interview with her, here:
I loved reading how Jeanne Manford became a hero for LGTBQ people when she marched in a Christopher Street parade, holding a sign that read “I’M PROUD OF MY GAY SON.” A radical statement, in 1972. A year after I was born. I am a half-century old, but human rights are barely my age, and at risk of crib death if people like Ron DeSantis get more power.
I didn’t love reading how Sammy Davis Jr. and Kim Novak’s friendship set America, mobsters, and scumbag Harry Cohn against them. I remembered a vague story that the mob threatened to put out his other eye, and I didn’t know why. Turns out Harry Cohn was upset that this might lessen Kim Novak’s star value, so he put the mob on them. Sinatra’s pal Sam Giancana offered help, but had no power in Hollywood, only Vegas and Chicago. It’s a painful but important read.
How about a watch? I watched The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52, on kanopy. It’s about a blue whale that sings at a higher pitch than others, so none of his kind can understand him. He was discovered during Cold War sonar testing, and not to spoil it… but he’s still out there. And maybe not as lonely as we thought! A great little documentary.
I also just learned that NetFlix is shutting down its disc mailing service at the end of the year. The mother fuckers. I have 441 movies in my queue! This is how I watch a lot of “obscure” films, which are only obscure because they aren’t available on streaming services. I guess I’ll have to subscribe to The Criterion Channel now. You can also stream movies with Hoopla and Kanopy for free using your Library Card, which I do a lot. I’ve watched 534 films on NetFlix disc since 2011, when Sarah and I merged our accounts; I often watched several a week, up to three a day, when I started. Goodbye, NetFlix. I get the streaming service included with cable, or I’d cancel.
Coming soon:
I visit Walt Whitman’s family tomb
Diggerland, the construction equipment amusement park
Scandalous photos of me at Burning Man, and a hostess cafe in Tokyo
I thought my husband was the last Netflix disc subscriber. He'll be glad to know he's got company.
Thanks for this lovely post, it cheered me up.
I'm notorious for finding silver linings (real or imaginary). It's like fencing--just keep going until you see "the hole" (in your opponent's defense) and then dive in with all you've got. But if you aren't looking for the hole, you won't see it. That's my theory, anyway.
Also, BTW -- that tree frog! When/where did you see that? Amazeballs, I can't get it out of my head.