Jeffrey D. Tharp's Blog, page 2

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Keeping the calendar. Among other things, I am keeper of the calendar for what my annual self-assessment only slightly mockingly calls “the premier large meeting and event venue” on the installation. Unfortunately, that means every time someone wants to have a meeting in our fancy 750 seat auditorium, they have to come through me. It should be easy enough. It’s all automated. Except everyone consistently jacks up the automation, or schedules the wrong rooms, or the wrong times, or the wrong days, and generally has no idea what they’re doing or what they actually want. And then I have to unsort them. Repeatedly. You’d think if someone can schedule an Outlook meeting they could use a nice simple reservation website. You would, however, be wrong in thinking that. I suspect these are also people who struggle to make Outlook work.

2. Panic buying. The news and social media are filled with clips of people panic buying toilet paper because of the ongoing east coast dockworker’s strike. Here’s the thing… TP for your bunghole is almost entirely produced domestically right here in the US of A. It doesn’t arrive by ship. The port strike will have no effect on being able to get a package of Charmin extra soft. Still, it’s disappearing from shelves because people are fucking stupid. I take no comfort that people learned nothing from the opening days of the Great Plague and they are the same “average Americans” we’re expecting to exercise good judgement in picking a president next month.

3. “Where’s the government?” Having been seconded over to FEMA for several hurricane seasons back in the early 00’s, I have at least an educated opinion about what the basic response process to a large-scale natural disaster should look like. What is impossible for me to miss, of course, is the army of online experts who are demanding to know “where’s the government” practically before a storm hits. It’s obvious they don’t know the processes or procedures or the sheer complexity of spinning up a massive and complex inter-agency operation… even one you’ve practiced and exercised often. The fact is, for the first 3 to 5 days of a disaster (at a minimum), you’re on your own. There’s no easy way to say it. In those early days you have to be prepared to look out for your own health, safety, and hygiene requirements. After that you’ll start seeing local, state, and federal responders in that order as roads and other critical infrastructure items are brought back online and/or made accessible. There’s no magic wand the federal government can waive and make a “FEMA guy” appear in all the places where the roads are otherwise impassible instantaneously. It’s not the answer anyone wants to hear, of course… be we collectively don’t react well to anything that calls for dealing with complexity and abstractions, so here we are.

A hell of a drug…

This past weekend was the first time I’d been home during the autumn in probably 20 years. I’d be lying to you if I tried to play it off as if driving down old familiar roads with the leaves changing, even on a rain swept day, didn’t find the nostalgia hitting hard. It was mostly memories of fall long ago – a time and place so different from today that it almost feels like something from a fever dream. 

The combination of the smells and colors of fall bought on instant flashes of core memory… the lion’s share of which featured long trips on the band bus and friends I thought of then as closer than family. The memories were so thick I could damn near touch them. 

Of course, it’s not this time of year for me if any trip down memory lane doesn’t come along with a touch of melancholy. I couldn’t resist dipping my toe into thoughts of how much time has changed it all – the priorities, the people, and how important they are beyond treasured in memory. Some, fortunately, have hung in there for the long haul. That’s fortunate. Who else would sit around over lunch and listen to the same old stories about the olden days?

The weekend was anything but restful. It feels distinctly like I skipped the part of the week where I usually put my feet up and recover… like somehow we bleed directly from Thursday into Monday without any intervening time. I don’t regret it for a moment, but I’ll be high key happy to get through the next four days and then have a proper rest.

I’m glad to be back into the routine… but damned if the draw of falling back into decades old habits wasn’t washing over me like some siren’s song. Even now I can feel that tide ebbing away, but in the moment it absolutely felt like I could have stepped back into a life I haven’t lived in a quarter of a century without so much as a stutter step. Nostalgia is a hell of a drug. 

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. New iPhone season. Yes, it’s new iPhone season. Once upon a time that would have filled my heart with excitement. I’d have even gotten up far earlier than normal to schlep over to my nearest Apple Store for the chance to buy their new wonder. For the last three or four years, though, I’ve basically just been leasing my phone from Apple. I’m about two weeks away from my scheduled upgrade window – and sure, I’ll do it – but the thrill is gone. It’s hard not to see the miniature computer in my pocket as just another electronic commodity, with this year’s having marginally better cameras, marginally more speed, and marginally improved battery life. I’m sure I’ll be duly impressed to have a freshly upgraded bit of kit once it’s in my hands, of course. Even so, no matter how many emails they send me offering to let me swap out early for the low, low price of $60, I’m in no great rush.

2. Consistency. If I have to take a stupid walk for my dumb health, I want to get it knocked out as early in the day as possible. For the last bunch of months, that’s meant schlepping out just at the beginning of dawn’s early light and often getting home before the sun was even properly up. Now that autumn is here, though, to stay on schedule, I’m leaving the house and getting most of the walk done before the promise of a rising sun has even turned the horizon gray. One of the many things I’ve noticed while most of the rest of the world sleeps is how many people illuminate their houses with mismatched exterior lighting.  Some houses are consistent, but the number that mix harsh blue, soft white, and the occasional other colored hue surprises me. I’m not a designer by any stretch, but from where I’m walking, the mash up of mixed color “temperature” scattered across the front of the average house looks awful. It probably shouldn’t annoy me, but it does.

3. Physical therapy. I’ve been in physical therapy several times over the last ten years, but this morning reminded me that there’s one aspect of the experience I can never seem to get over… that would be the general indignity of being laid out, bent, twisted, folded, spindled, and mutilated right there with seven or eight other people getting the same treatment for their own maladies. It feels like there should, somehow, be a more discrete or dignified way of getting treated. I know I’m not looking around or trying to take in a show during these sessions, but the whole experience leaves me feeling intensely vulnerable and that’s just unpleasant.

On deciding whether or not to scratch an itch…

I’m inching closer to the idea of packing a bag and taking a few days away. I haven’t been on a proper vacation in years and there’s part of me that feels like I could be well served by having a stretch of time where I don’t have to be the head cook and bottle washer of all household operations. A few days with a guide and a driver and needing to make very few decisions feels kind of ideal. 

I’ve gone so far as narrowing down dates and destinations, pricing out travel options, and looking at a host of optional day trips and activities. The thing I haven’t done – and the one bit that could readily derail any kind of quality planning – is sorted out what I’ll do with a dog, two cats, and a tortoise while I’m traipsing around interesting new locales. I struggle a bit leaving them for what amounts to a glorified long weekend around the Christmas season… and even then, Jorah is along for the ride with me. 

The fact is, Jorah will be six years old in October and I haven’t spent a night away from him. Given his somewhat neurotic tendencies, I don’t have a real warm fuzzy about how well he’d react to being turned over to a kennel for a week. There’s always the option of hiring a live in sitter for the duration of the trip… an option that triggers a lot of feelings of grave distrust of having unknown people in my personal space unaccompanied. Add in my never resolved guilt that one of the last times I went away I came home just in time to find Hershel sick and dying and race him hopelessly to the emergency vet. It’s not a recipe for making animal care decisions especially easy.

I know there are a lot of my own issues rolled up there. Animals are supposedly very adaptable – likely more so than I am myself. I should probably just make the reservations and force the issue, but I can’t quite bring myself to pull that particular trigger.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Explosive pagers. Look, the Israelis having the wherewithal to make pagers, radios, and cell phones explode across the region on command is an undeniably slick piece of work. I’m in awe. I’m also suddenly very aware of exactly how many bits of electronics I have in close proximity to me every minute of the day… including the AirPods literally sticking into my head. I’m duly uncomfortable about this new tactic that’s now getting widespread attention thanks to its apparent effectiveness. It’s not something I’d want to see sweeping the world in the future.

2. Shutdown talk. It’s the magic time of year when the media is floating talk of a government shut down when funding expires at the end of September. All they’re going to do for the next two weeks is get my hopes up that a few free days of vacation time are in the offing before the political class pulls out a “save” at the last possible moment and we all boot up our computers on October 1st as usual. Years ago, I was more bitter about the prospect of a shutdown. Now that my finances are considerably more stable and the prospect of missing a check isn’t a stark raving nightmare, all I can tell these bubbas who want to shut it down is “bring it on.” I look forward to yet another opportunity to mock them mercilessly for being consistently unable to do one of the very few jobs that they’re required to do under the Constitution. If they’re going to be so incompetent, giving federal employees worldwide a few extra days off in the fall feels like the least they could do. Of course, until that sweet furlough notice shows up in my inbox, it’s all just talk.

3. Interest rate cuts. In keeping with my tradition of being a contrarian, I’m a little sad to see the Federal Reserve start cutting rates. Yes, I’m sure it’ll be good for anyone looking to buy a house or car and is a sure sign that the Fed thinks the worst of the inflationary pressures is over… but for the first time in my adult life, there was a reasonable return for cash parked in a “high yield” emergency savings account. Another few quarters of cutting and it’ll be back to looking for other savings options that preserve liquidity, compensate for inflation, but don’t introduce additional risk. Those 5% interest rates were good while they lasted.

The limits of your “free speech”…

I want people to have opinions. I’d prefer that they be informed opinions, but there’s not much I can do about that. The fact that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, though, doesn’t in any way imply that I have any obligation to give you a platform with which to expound upon it – and certainly not in the comment threads of my various social media accounts. 

With that in mind, I’m here tonight to announce a revised policy. I’m going to continue posting my opinions on social media for the foreseeable future. Some people will find it entertaining, others will find it infuriating. The catch is, I’m no longer going to stand around watching while anyone comes wandering onto my pages posting wackadoodle crackpot conspiracy theorist foolishness, sedition, blatant lies, political fan fiction, or racist, sexist, or homophobic fuckery. 

In that spirit, I’ll make you a corresponding promise to not go onto other people’s posts spewing my unpopular opinions. I’m going to insist upon being shown the same courtesy. If you want to deep dive an angry comments section, there are plenty of pages on social media where you can get your fill of it. My page will no longer be one of them. Starting immediately, I’m just going to go ahead and delete those comments. No discussion. No explanation. If I find some on my friends list just can’t help themselves, I’ll smash that unfriend button with a smile on my face.

There will be some who are tempted to come over the side here and rumble that they “don’t pick their friends based on politics.” The fact is, I don’t either. I can’t remember the last time I asked someone I met in a social setting for their political CV. If, however, I ended up with a friend sitting in my living room who couldn’t seem to help themselves from continually spewing weird, fringe political opinions, you can count on me giving them the bums rush out the front door as expeditiously as possible. The bottom line is this: You should feel absolutely free to have all the opinions you want right there on your very own page. If you don’t like something you see in my page, feel free to just scroll on past. I’ll do the same with whatever “troublesome” content I see on your page. That’s the bedrock of what has allowed friends and neighbors to get along for time out of mind and I can’t see any reason it shouldn’t work in the age of social media.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. CapitalOne. I’ve had a high yield savings account with CapitalOne since they were doing business as ING Direct. For months I haven’t been able to log in to my account without going through the process of resetting my password. It’s not fatal, but it adds a level of inconvenience. Multiple calls to what is allegedly customer support have failed to resolve what feels like it should be an easy fix. Now, suddenly, my linked accounts stopped working so I couldn’t transfer funds between banks. That was the last inconvenience. I’m in the process of migrating to another online bank as my patience with CapitalOne has well and truly run out. I know they don’t care if they lose my business. My accounts are a rounding error in their books, but that’s not in any way going to stop me from publicly saying their customer service was absolutely appalling and failed at every step to take simple corrective actions.

2. The workplace of the 1950s. Driving for 40 minutes and then sitting at a quarter mile long line at the gate waiting to get admitted into a special place designated for the sole purpose of doing work feels increasingly more archaic every time I do it. Which is probably why Congressional Republicans are determined to pass legislation that declares having asses in seats in giant office buildings the One True Way to work. They do love dreaming up policies and procedures that are as archaic and backwards looking as possible. It’s like the party of Trump can’t help but to be fucking wrong on every issue it touches. They’re like King Midas except everything they touch turns to shit instead of gold.

3. Lack of evidence. It’s impossible to avoid the former host of Celebrity Apprentice making wild accusations that immigrants in Ohio have somehow taken to eating people’s pets in large numbers. “They’re eating the pets,” Trump raved, during the most recent debate. It’s attention getting, for sure, but happens to be entirely made up. One might even say that the twice-impeached-reality-television-host-in-chief was spouting fountains of “fake news.” There is not a single shred of demonstratable evidence that somewhere in Ohio there is a vast conspiracy of Haitian immigrants to capture and feast on the family tabby. The number of otherwise intelligent people who dismiss the complete lack of evidence as some nefarious (but unidentified) “they” scrubbing the internet and news sources of this vital information is honestly alarming and appalling in equal measure. I don’t know how to communicate with grown adults who are determined to deep dive conspiracy theory rabbit holes… but I know for sure I no longer have the patience to pretend their delusions are in any way reasonable political discourse. 

Shit in a box…

I’m not going to lie, one of the things that has changed unexpectedly since I turned 45 has been how often I’m required to shit in a box… for science. Admittedly, the total number of times that’s happened in the last 15 months is twice, but that is exactly two times more often than it happened in the previous 45 years, so it feels like a significant deviation from the norm. 

The first of these experiences was to check for any underlying gastrointestinal issues causing my acid reflux. The second was as a screening tool for early detection of colon cancer. Both are worthy objectives and I support the goal entirely. That doesn’t make it any less weird when you have to spend some part of your morning packaging up your own shit and then driving it over to the nearest UPS store. There’s something intensely surreal about the whole process.

Despite the warnings that “things change after you hit 40,” I’ll admit I was entirely unprepared for some of what that was going to entail. In some ways, regularly shitting in a box and then posting it off for someone else to analyze is, perhaps, not even the strangest part of this brave new phase of life. I’m equal parts curious and terrified of whatever comes next.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. People in large groups. Concerts are one of the very few times I’ll concede to intentionally heading out into a crowed place. In just about every other endeavor, I make efforts to avoid finding myself in that situation. As Agent Kay well knew, “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals.” The sheer density of people in large venues makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I’ll overcome it given enough motivation, but I’ll never manage to be entirely comfortable with it. 

2. Pope Francis. According to a news report I read, “Pope Francis praised Indonesians on Wednesday for their large families and suggested that people in other countries are choosing to have pets rather than bring up children.” That’s fine, but Jesus Christ there are now more than 8 billion people on the planet already. How can someone with such reach and influence honestly believe that the solution to any of the current problems facing the planet is to throw more people into the mix. The world population has grown by one billion people in the last 14 years, and you can see the hash we’ve made of that. Maybe, even with the words of the Holy Father to the contrary, it’s time we look at trying something else, because just throwing more bodies at our problems clearly isn’t getting the job done.

3. Clothes shopping. One of the many “fun” facts about weight loss is that clothes I was wearing at the beginning of this past spring no longer fit. Coats, sweatshirts, sweaters, long sleeve shirts of all varieties – not one in ten winter/cool weather things in my closet come close to fitting properly. I’m attempting to rectify that through online shopping, but my house has mostly become a waypoint for clothing as I shuffle it from a business’s shipping office back to their receiving desk in hopes that a refund may eventually be applied. Nothing fucking fits right, sizes make no sense, and I’m once again sick to death of shopping. I honestly have no idea how anyone has a good time with this process.

A trip back in time…

The Labor Day weekend has come and gone, which moves us squarely into the direction of the onrushing conclusion of 2024. I’m struggling to come to terms with it being September “already.” As always, time flies and doesn’t give one single fuck whether you’re having fun or not.

I extended this long weekend a bit so I could schlep over to New Jersey last Thursday to see Avril Lavigne, a long-time pop punk emo girl favorite, joined with opener Simple Plan, in a show that would have killed me dead 20 years ago. Honestly, it was everything I’d hoped for. It’s not often I have no regrets about having to wade into a crowd numbering in the tens of thousands, but this was one of those rare exceptions. 

I had some hesitation after reading some negative reviews of the performance online but found all the issues raised to be completely overblown or nonexistent. I spent the entire night with a smile on my face – no easy feat when I’ve been kept up well past my bedtime. It felt very much like a trip back to the early 2000s… and I guess that was really the goal. It was nice to spend a couple of hours in my 20s again.

Freedom Mortgage Pavilion was a surprisingly nice venue. No issues with the food and beverage options. Clean facilities overall. Everything was well organized. The only flaw in the evening was the physical location of the venue. It’s how I imagine the Green Zone in Baghdad must have been – a safe haven surrounded by high walls, fences, and armed patrols. Once I was inside the bubble, all was well… getting to the bubble, letting Waze direct me through the side streets of Camden, NJ felt like a very questionable decision. Obviously, nothing unfortunate happened, but it wasn’t a good look and marred the experience being the first and last impression of the evening.

In any case, if anyone is on the fence about going to see the show, I can’t recommend it highly enough. All in, it was a hell of a good time, and I’d go again tomorrow if they came back to play an encore.