Sunday, April 27, 2025

Home improvement

If you had asked me several years ago what a pergola was, I probably would have answered "Huh?" and shrugged my shoulders.

Our old arbor was in serious disrepair.
 "Something made in Japan?" might have been my guess. It's likely that I might actually have been thinking of a pagoda.

But we had this simple wooden structure in our backyard that over the years was seriously deteriorating. It was there when we bought our house more than 22 years ago. It was our decorative arbor and bench where the wisteria grew and climbed.

But the structure was in bad shape, even back then.

Finally, about a year or so ago – about the time we had our new backyard fence built – the arbor/pergola became a real eyesore. It had a bad lean to it, so much so that we figured it might collapse the next time a bird landed on it. Slats were falling off of it. The only reason it was still standing is that the wisteria was no doubt holding it all together.

We thought it was only a matter of time and that we needed to do something this year.

Our new pergola is a sight to behold.
 So we contacted Nico Barrie of A&K Quality Fencing in High Point, the same guy who built our fence.

"Help," I pleaded. 

Nico arrived in the nick of time to give us an estimate. I showed him a picture of an arbor that Kim and I liked at the Davidson County Senior Services Center and asked him if he could build us something similar.

He said he could. The day he started the job, he tore down the old structure within minutes, then set the new four main posts in concrete, which already made it different from the old one. He and his crew came back the next day, after the concrete had set, and finished the job within hours.

Just like that, we had a beautiful, brand-new pergola. (OK, OK. Turns out the terms arbor and pergola are pretty interchangeable. I think it might all depend on how upscaly you want to be). It's the perfect addition to our yard. I kind of wish we had done this a few years ago when our house was selected for the Master Gardeners garden tour.

Just for the record: By description, a pergola is "a garden or patio feature that creates shade and defines an outdoor space. It typically has vertical posts, horizontal beams and an open roof made of slats or of a louvered design."

By description, an arbor is "a vertical structure in a landscape or garden that consists of two or four posts with a simple slatted roof."

Nico settled the issue when he billed us for a pergola.

 

Sunday, April 20, 2025

Finding our voice

More than 50 years ago, I stumbled into an antiwar protest on the campus of Kutztown State College, a small liberal arts school near Allentown, PA, where I was a student majoring in English.

This was probably sometime around 1970 or '71, and the war in Vietnam was in hyperdrive and dividing the nation. Protests were no guarantee of a safe space for free speech by that point: the shootings at Kent State where four young people were killed at the hands of the Ohio National Guard had occurred in 1970, and every gathering of demonstrators anywhere thereafter was fraught with danger and fear of the unknown. Uncertainty hovered over us like some dark, viral cloud.

The Wehrles and the Hoffmanns speak with one voice.
 The war was relentlessly chewing up American lives for a purpose we could not comprehend. More than once I wondered if I'd flee the country for Canada, even though my draft lottery number of 262 kept me safe. The highest number called in 1970 was 195.

Still, I came to the protest by accident. It wasn't a particularly large demonstration, but I was curious, so I wandered by to see. I carried no signs and I came without a true agenda. But the next thing you knew, I was raising my fist in defiance. Hell, no, we won't go.

And that was it. My days as a protester were over.

Until yesterday.

Less than three months into the second Trump administration, there's been nothing but chaos. An illegally created (and absurdly named) Department of Government Efficiency, headed by an unelected billionaire oligarch, somehow has been granted (or assumed) the power to cut one federal agency after another: slashed, possibly beyond repair, are critical agencies like USAID, the Department of Education, the Department of Energy, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department  of the Interior (including the National Parks Service), the Department of Veterans Affairs, NASA, and NOAA, to name some.

The result of these cuts has – or will – stifle medical research into such fields as cancer research, Alzheimers, autism and Parkinson's. Cuts to the Department of Education will eliminate school lunch programs. student loans and civil rights protections. Even the arts have been hampered with cutbacks created by Trump's expanding net of autocratic power.

It's Project 2025 in full form.

All of which pisses me off. People are being hurt while Trump, a convicted felon who laughs at us daily from behind the Resolute Desk, gathers more and more power.

So Kim came to me the other day and said she wanted to go to the National Day of Action (Hands Off!) protest to be held on the steps of the Old Courthouse on the square on Saturday. Kim has been growing more and more frustrated by the cruelty and stupidity of this administration and wondered how we could respond.

So, Saturday afternoon, we joined the 55 or so people who collected on the square. I'd made each of us a cardboard sign – Kim's sign said, "Stealing women's rights is wrong," and mine said, "Hands off our Democracy."

As soon as we got there, we ran into Scott and Catherine Hoffmann, our former next door neighbors who are now living in Charlotte. Catherine said they had the option of protesting somewhere else yesterday, but she wanted to be in a place where she had lived for decades.

We stayed for a little more than an hour in the 80-plus degree weather. We were encouraged by the occasional car that honked its horn in support as it drove past the courthouse on Main Street. That was a positive sign to see in cherry red Davidson County. Another surprise was a pickup truck that pulled up in front of the courthouse from out of nowhere. Moments later, a young man was distributing bottles of water to the gathering.

Today is April 20. It's Easter. It's also 90 days past inauguration, the day when Trump issued an executive order to invoke the Insurrection Act of 1807 after falsely proclaiming a national emergency on the Mexican-U.S. border. The Insurrection Act could pave the way for Trump to institute martial law in this country, which could have implications for our First Amendment rights. Oh, and by the way, April 20 is also the anniversary birthday of Adolph Hitler. Just sayin'.

Will any of this matter? Is anybody listening?

I don't know, but the seeds of a grassroots movement (50501 decodes into 50 protests, 50 states, one movement) are often sown in the most unlikely places. The trick will be to grow and maintain momentum, especially as the crucial 2026 midterm elections grow closer.

In my hour of protest I felt something I hadn't felt in more than 50 years. It felt good. It felt like we had a voice. It felt important. 

It felt righteous.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, April 13, 2025

The oligarchy

Oligarchy.  

Noun

A small group of people having control of a country, organization or institution.

I've been thinking about this a lot trying to figure out how our country has seen its democracy teeter on the precipice toward anarchy. Or worse. It might be above my pay grade.

I mean, how did we get to the point in our history to where we're scooping mostly brown-skinned people off the street, deporting them to a foreign prison, perhaps "disappearing" them forever, all without the fundamental right of due process? Due process. The original cornerstone of our form of government, based on the rule of law. Where is it? Has due process been disappeared as well?

Does this make you proud to be an American citizen?

I guess it's possible when your leader is lawless himself, a 34-time convicted criminal and adjudicated rapist who has been given the keys to your future, your fortunes, your very lives, because the cost of eggs was too high. 

So how does this happen?

The only thing that makes sense to me is the money.

Trump, the lawless leader, has stacked his cabinet with a coterie of maleficent billionaires intent on not serving we the people, but rather we the top one-tenth of one percent. It's why we've been inflicted with ridiculous and unnecessary tariffs that manipulate the stock market, and when played correctly, further enriches the wealthy. Has possible insider trading crossed your mind?

Money talks. It always has. Which makes Trump's power base all the more incongruous since his primary appeal seems to be with those who can never live the lifestyle. "He looks out for us," claims the working class, somehow never seeing the graft and corruption unfolding in front of their eyes.

So Trump surrounds himself with 13 billionaires in positions of control and whose combined personal wealth of more than $460 billion exceeds the GDP of 172 countries. Take a look:

• Elon Musk, department of government efficiency co-head: $439 billion. 

• Leandro Rizzuto Jr., ambassador to the Organization of American States, $3.5 billion.

• Warren Stephens, ambassador to the United Kingdom, $3.4 billion.

• Linda McMahon, education secretary, $3 billion.

• Howard Lutnick, commerce secretary, $2.2 billion.

• Charles Kushner, ambassador to France, $1.8 billion.

• Jared Isaacman, NASA administrator, $1.8 billion.

• Thomas Barrack Jr., ambassador to Turkey, $1 billion.

• Steven Witkoff, special envoy to the Middle East, $1 billion.

• Frank Bisiganano, Social Security Administration commissioner, $1 billion.

• Scott Bessent, Treasury secretary, reported billionaire.

• Vivek Ramaswamy, department of government efficiency co-head, $1 billion. 

• David Sacks, AI (not A1) and crypto czar, net worth unknown.

• Doug Burgum, interior secretary, $100 million.

• Mehmet Oz, administrator for the centers for Medicare and medicaid services, $100 million.

That's what an oligarchy looks like. I'm still trying to find where we the people are in here. 

What could possibly go wrong?

Sleep well.

 

 


 

Sunday, April 6, 2025

The Covid couple

The one thing that Kim and I hoped to accomplish was to go through the rest of our lives without ever having contracted Covid-19. 

I mean, after all, we made it this far. We survived the deadly outbreak back in 2019 by doing everything we were told: we wore masks, we sanitized our hands, and, when it became available, we took every Covid vaccine the schedule offered us at exactly when the schedule offered it.

Well, so much for that.

Last week, around Monday, both of us started feeling a little punkish. I had a slight sore throat, a bit of a runny nose, aches in my joints. Kim was much the same way, but with a persistent cough to boot. She suggested we take a flu/Covid test, even though we've been vaccinated for both.

So on Wednesday evening we bought testing kits, swabbed our noses and immediately dropped our heads when the dreaded double lines showed up on our testing devices.

Covid! How the heck did we get Covid?

The first thing we did was try to contact as many people as we could after we attended a recent funeral over the weekend. Then we tried to figure out what to do next.

Apparently, there's not much more you can do. We called our doctor's office Thursday morning and told them our symptoms. By the afternoon, we had our prescriptions for Paxlovid, the treatment designed to mitigate the effects of severe Covid. It's not a cure.

Anyway, Kim's Rx was affordable, but mine was over $300. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the heck? I wasn't feeling that bad.

"I'm not buying that," I told Kim. "Forget it."

That turned out to be a wise decision. When Kim opened her package, it came with a list of medications not to combine with Paxlovid. Lovastatin was on that list. I take Lovastatin. OMG. So I guess this is the one time the high cost of a medication saved me from further problems, if not something worse.

Kim, meanwhile, is taking her Paxlovid, complete with the side effect of altering her sense of taste. She said she feels like she's been licking aluminum cans.

So here we are, entering our fifth day of Covid. Neither of us can taste our food, and both of us feel more lethargic than people our age should probably feel. I do have more of my appetite back than I did a few days ago, but what's the point of eating if I can't taste anything? So now I'm on the Covid-19 diet plan. Yes, I've lost a few pounds. Yay.

Truth be told, I'm not feeling that bad. We did some light yard work yesterday because I hate to waste a beautiful day. Then we napped and afterwards watched a lot of television.

And we continue to test, impatiently waiting for the double lines to finally disappear.