The Notion of Normal

Finally a snowstorm worth mentioning; a classic January all day inch plus an hour dusting. My wife and I discussed it. We decided it had been at least three winters since we had a dumping like yesterday's. Thirty years ago we would have four or five a season at least. Our average winter in Acton was in the neighborhood of 90 to 100 inches total. Yesterdays 18" storm and the 6 incher three days ago more than doubled our total for the season so far. I am guessing at this point we are around 40 inches total.

In other news the New Normal chugs along. More mass shootings, Trump wins another golf tournament on his own course, and the hand wringers in DC continue to promise that we can get the out of control gun madness under control with common sense gun laws. .................... 

Wait a minute. ..... The myth of common sense gun laws is part of the Old Normal. Common sense regarding guns left the barn 40 years ago at least; so any of the go to gun control rhetoric of yesteryear now goes in one ear out the other now. 

So bottom line is, there is no Normal, old or new. There is no Back Then nor any Until Then. There is only Now which is totally unconcerned with Back Then or Until Then. Normal never happens, nor will it happen in our future. Reality is ambivalent to our petty, weak attempts to put it in a box. Even the name or description we give it does not live up to the hype, never mind even believing in there is a notion that can satisfactorily define Normal.

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An Aside, or is it a Post Script? ..... If nothing else, it is at least a BTW

Once again my tendency to reach past my abilities to control myself  were rudely brought into focus on Monday morning. You may or may not remember or even care about Sunday's post and my efforts to find ways to avoid accidental napping. I mentioned I had come up with a Poor Man's Cafe Mocha. 

Well, because I found success with the new beverage, of course I had to try to improve it. So I invented a new alcoholic drink I have named the "Skrewball Toe Warmer". Basically it is a "Poor Man's Cafe Mocha with a generous shot of Skrewball added. 

At 70 proof, the very tasty peanut butter whiskey can kick an ass if that ass is not paying attention. I consumed at least one, maybe two too many during the Bills / Bengals game. I lost touch after the third or fourth one and the second joint.

At least I stayed awake. 

Overall it was a hoot. Just before my eyes finally shut down around 2:00 AM, Sunday night, I remember thinking I don't handle hangovers well anymore. When I opened them around 6:00 AM, I was reminded of that fact which became the driving reason I stopped drinking to excess years ago. I spent Monday watching it snow and feeling sorry for my sorry self. 

As I have done countless times in my past, I thought I would again try to draw a lesson from my trip down stupidity lane. I could not do it. It would be the same lesson I learned years ago and apparently chose one more time to ignore. 

Being stupid brings with it a myriad of self inflicted pay backs. All I can do is hope I survive them.

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Once long ago in the 1970s I was hijacked, kidnapped, made off with to a sprawling bar not far off the I-95 in Delaware. I was told I would have a great time, listening to and drinking to a band called "The Destroyers". My kidnappers were right. I have to say George Thorogood and the Destroyers, as they later became known as, are/were the best bar band I have ever seen. David Bromberg is close, but for the rowdiest time I can remember, that night with George sits at the top.

Anyway, here is his hit, "I drink alone". 

There were many video versions. I picked this one with actors you may know playing or overplaying the drunk routine. Again, this is another tune best experienced with the volume in the WOW range. ............Enjoy!