The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

We just got an inquiry from a woman who wanted to rent our little bungalow next door, the 1940’s house we bought that Ruby, our resident stripper from the ‘30’s built with her vaudevillian husband Harry Vine. Nice stage name, Harry! Ruby grew up in our old shack before hitting the circuits but eventually came home to the South End, built her house next to her mom’s and taught dancing in town. Probably not pole dancing, just waltzes and such.

The inquiry wanted to know if we could disconnect wi-fi and if there were power lines around the house. She had recently returned from Nepal and apparently the electronic ‘grid’ was more than she could bear, having become sensitized in her absence to what the rest of us barely notice. We replied that the wi-fi could be turned off but the electricity that flows throughout the house might be an issue. Me, I’d have told her we could shut it off at the breaker panel and she could live in the dark without heat or hot water, might feel like a Tibetan monk in a cave after a few days. But the mizzus told her that maybe Ruby’s wasn’t the dream vacation she envisioned for herself and good luck finding what was.

I suppose if I spent a year in Nepal, coming home would be a shock. Television, internet, commercials, billboards, the constant bombardment of 21st century technologies. Most folks, it’s just the opposite. They can no longer imagine living life if it meant sacrificing those. We got a renter up at Ruby’s this weekend and last night the power went off about 4 in the morning. When he woke up, no lights, no toaster, no coffee maker, no TV, no reason to live. He called his daughter who texted us and said her pop was ‘freaking out’. I had gone down to get the Sunday papers and noticed all his curtains and shades pulled. I guess if you have no lights, why let any from the outside in either? Or … maybe this was an indication that our guest was in full panic attack. As you can well imagine, the situation was Grim. How many more minutes could he manage? How long before suicide seemed the better option? When, oh Lord would help arrive or the power come back on? Was the entire country de-electrified? Had the Russians cyber-struck the Grid? Or aliens? Or … worse?

Well, one minute after the distress call came in, the power company had restored the lines and electricity was flowing normally down to the South End. Yeah, it was a close call. But no life was lost. I did notice, though, the shades are still drawn, probably an indication of lasting scars. Even an hour living in pre-digital America can leave irreparable wounds.

Maybe you’re like me, wondering how anyone in half their right mind could vote for a crook like Trump. Sure, there’s plenty of folks out there who love a popular racist, I get that, and plenty who would like to grab women by their genitals, figuring it’s forever frat time in America. Locker room talk, right? And yeah, some of the trolling on the internet is viciously nasty misogyny, but it’s probably just some acne-pocked 400 pound kid in his folks’ basement acting out, nothing to worry about once his hormones even out. Not like he really would rape his target.

I got friends who voted for Trump. They’re not racists or homophobes. I wouldn’t call them adorable exactly, but I wouldn’t say they were deplorable either. Some are just hardcore Republicans hoping to get a tax break, the usual stuff. They sure weren’t going to vote for Hillary and definitely not for Bernie. Some are evangelical or some other religion mostly in the Christian camp. They think abortion is murder and they think a woman’s place is in the kitchen and gays, well, they should get some bootcamp intervention to figure out their mixed up attractions. Sure, Trump is a fallen Christian but forgiveness is divine and by God, they’re willing to forgive and forget. Hillary, not so much. After all, she forgave her man for those intern indiscretions and they didn’t. There’s a difference, but don’t ask me what it is.

And I can understand how in America some people are enamored of their TV reality stars. American Idol, the Apprentice, the new folk heroes. Richest guy in the world, right? Most successful business man they almost know. Okay, they probably don’t know how many times he went bankrupt, how many folks he left holding the bag, how the banks saved his bacon to save theirs, how the Russians loaned him money and expected a little quid pro quo. It’s how business works, it’s how the rich get rich, it’s what they’d do themselves if they had the chance. Big deal. Yeah, Big Deal!

If you were poor … or unemployed … or making minimum wage, you might want someone to blame. Government maybe. Immigrants for sure. Radical Muslims, you bet! NAFTA and NATO, China and the Democrats, welfare cheats and Hollywood, bad!!! And if some smooth talking famous rich guy told you he thought the same thing, government’s screwing you, you might roll the dice too. Like he told the blacks last election, whaddaya got to lose? Maybe they’ll eventually ask themselves that. And discover the answer is Plenty.

FIRE ( Financial Independence, Retire Early)

Even before Trump pronounced You’re Fired, maybe you heard of FIRE, the groupthink of slackers like myself who thought Maynard G. Krebs had it correct back on Dobie Gillis: Work?? A four letter word spoken only with incredulity, as in, What, Me?
There’s an entire movement out there for those who want to retire young. In fact, there’s a Lean Fire and a Fat Fire, the former for those who think they might manage to live on 40 grand a year and the latter for those who think they might manage on a mere 150 grand. The latter we’re going to call rich and if they need help figuring out how to retire comfortably, I’m not going to be the one to give advice. Other than to tell them to get their heads out of their ass and wake up. You’re rich, you idiot!

But for the rest of us, me, my neighbors on the South End and possibly you wannabee retirees, I have all kinds of free advice. I know, if I set myself up as a Life Counselor, I’d be in the Fat Fire category, rich beyond my means to spend it all. No, that would defeat the purpose now, wouldn’t it? Even if I do think Life Counselor doesn’t actually fall into the category of work. Maynard G. was really a life counselor, after all. At least for me.

I have friends who run the numbers on what they will need to live a comfortable lifestyle into their 90’s. You can find financial advisors who will lay out your portfolio and give you the verdict if you can live on a mere 100K a year until the assisted living apartments kick your indigent self onto the sidewalk when you run out of pesos. Most of you won’t want to take the chance. Most of us would rather … yes, work, than risk becoming a bag lady at 95, eating from dumpsters and sitting at the freeway exit soliciting alms. TOO EARLY RETIREMENT, ANY $$$’S WILL HELP. GOD BLESS.

If you’re that kind of planner, forget about it. Retiring early requires a leap of faith. You either believe you can make ends meet or you don’t. It helps to start early, the earlier the better. That way you can make adjustments. Worst case, you can … well, there’s no gentle way to say this, you can go to work. The Lean Fire people may not tell you, but I will, if you retire before you made any money, you will have to find some means of accruing greenbacks for food, clothes, dwellings and the like. Sorry, but it’s kind of a Law of Physics.

The trick the Lean Fire Folks keep to themselves is that you have to work, you just don’t have to work for the Man. Swell, right? They also won’t tell you working for yourself is hard. The pay is crap, the boss is a jerk and the retirement you already took isn’t offered in the self-employment package. Neither is health care, vacation, sick leave, all that stuff you walked away from. Check the Lean Fire Fine Print if you don’t believe me.

But! If you’re like me and Maynard, take the gamble. Beats the odds at the casino and way better than Lotto. Worst case, you have to go back and do what you hated in the first place, but you got a short vacation. You might even learn to shop Goodwill and buy generic. You might find that the America that isn’t nose to tail in the rat race isn’t so bad after all. You might discover you actually have an imagination and that imagination might take you places you never dreamed possible. Even without that 150K budget….