Fasten Your Seatbelts

Because it’s going to be a bumpy ride… Really, the quote is ‘bumpy night’, but ride sounds better. This morning, I got not one, not two, but three spam calls from the ‘United States’ warning me that because of account irregularities, my “social number” will be suspended. I can only assume that they were referring to my Facebook account number, an account that I no longer use. After three tries, since they were too stupid to spoof their own phone number, I blocked it.

In the mail, Anne received a solicitation for her very own Joe Biden listening device. Good for those debates that don’t involve a screaming idiot. Reading it, she decided that the ad was really meant for me. Do you listen to the radio or TV too loud? Huh? Do you struggle to understand women? What? All my life. Or the high-pitched voices of children? Since they were born. What did you say?

Yesterday, we were walking by the De Mun Kaldi’s coffee shop, when Anne noticed a women with some hand-painted coffee sacks. These were the big 150 lbs. burlap kind that coffee is shipped bulk in. Turns out that they were being sold there as a charity thing, for $10 a piece. We bought two and plan on hanging them in our kitchen. We have just the wall for them. In the morning, we will not only be able to smell the coffee, but we’ll get to see it too.

Anne did her election judge training yesterday afternoon. Normally, she has to go to the election commission’s headquarters to do this, but in these Covid times, her training was conducted online via Zoom. I hunkered down in the next room, while Anne and her class learned about all of the new pandemic procedures, poll pads and all things elections. It went on and on for hours. Sometime in the middle of it though, I heard a woman screaming. One of her online classmates was dealing with a home intruder. Class stopped and everyone was ready to spring to her assistance, but what could they do? She had asked that no one should call the cops, but it was already too late for that. I hope she is OK.

Later, we watched the debate together. I had prepared bingo cards, to help us weather the storm, but I wasn’t expecting the tempest that we got. Anne soon won our game, and after that we were left with little for our defense. Dana Bash (CNN) summed up the evening the most succinctly, “It was a shit show.” The terrible toddler Trump was out-of-control. The moderator Chris Wallace couldn’t do a thing with him. Joe Biden was left with having to endure his ninety minute tantrum alone. In the end, Trump called upon the terrorist organization Proud Boys and his other Alt-right stooges to disrupt the coming election and ensure his victory. And I thought that the dangers of Covid would be the worse thing that Anne had to face, while working the polls on Election Day.

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