Real Class

It's that time of year again... Later in summer when I start thinking about school again. 

The last couple of days in July I always stop and think about my summer plans and desires and take stock in the "quality" of summer I am having. Like there is a grade for a great, good, or sustainable summer. This year; however, is very different. 

Last Saturday, the boyfriend and I got up early to go hiking, we casually mentioned how we had not hiked as much as we had hoped. We specifically avoided a popular trail in hopes of avoiding the COVIDidiots on the trails. Yet, just a little way up the path were groups of people amassing unmasking. So, this summer is different. Not only do I have to measure the quality and quantity of outdoor fun time, but also the un-dyeing factor as well. So, I guess I am winning as I am not dead?

But living means going back to school this August. I am still scheduled for an "in classroom" class which is weird that they have not either cancelled it or pulled it on line. All of my classes..... for years have been on line. The only reason this is not is because it's a "Senior Seminar" class for my major. After this class all of my requirements for my major will be done. But, we will see if it remains in a class format....

Home Automation

As you may know,  I am obsessed with home automation. When I first moved out on my own, I remember saving up to by radio-controlled battery operated light switches. I remember being amazed how I could turn lamps on from the other room. I could not imagine how someday I would have a robotic vacuum I would consider a pet, and voice activated... everything. Surely the dreams of the Jetsons. But, now I do; a Roomba that attempts to eat by bedroom draperies on a weekly schedule, and door signal that emails me to inform how I am presently using my front door. It's the future. 

I really do love it. When I approach my home, the lights come on, and music of my choice begins to play. At night, when commanded, the lights dim and relaxing sleep sounds begin. Today, my robot pet, Meeko, began his thrice weekly duty of vacuuming up the bits I leave behind on the floor. He danced around the house and surprisingly left my curtains alone. He, apparently had bigger plans. Making his way slowly to the kitchen he spied the refrigerator, and (this is me assuming) he found himself peckish. Because he began to wedge himself under the door to the fridge. Just at the right angle. The angle and force it would take to open the refrigerator's door. At this point he was stuck and began to email me at work. Over-and over. Alerting me that he was stuck and needed to be un-stuck. The emails went on for an hours. The emails did not include the tiny fact that the fridge door was open. Nor did it mention how he dislodged a bottle of Shallot Vinaigrette dressing. The expensive kind. To drop to the floor and break, the dressing then marinating the vacuum for the remains of the afternoon. 

I do love technology and home automation. Without lifting a finger I had my vacuum marinated and ready to go upon my arrival home. But, since my fridge was open all day, I had no lettuce... no un-wilted lettuce to serve with it. 

Who Runs the Federal Reserve

We  decided on a plan. We knew that our usual way of adventuring would not work, so we needed something else. Another way to spend the holiday. Since the lockdown was easing, we were aware that everyone in Denver would want to head up to the mountains and hike for the Independence Day weekend. As this is our modus operandi, and we are very much aware that the pandemic is not over, no matter what people feel, we wanted to avoid all the weekend hikers. For the fourth of July weekend we scuttled our hiking ambitions, and decided on a car trip. Safely in the car; no need to get out, other than gas stops. Our destination would be a quiet and untraveled site in southern Colorado. 

Bishop's Castle is huge monolithic stone castle build by a anti-government, religious zealot. Stone by stone, quarried by hand and lifted into place. He started building the middle-ages looking monolith in the late sixties. Grumbling about the American banking system and  Federal Reserve System being the catalyst for Satan to sweep across America to rule with his tyrannical power. Every boulder blasted and broken down into building material to add to walls, came with a lecture on how the government police forces of the county are designed to enslave for the devil's bidding.  

Or, so the story goes, but why just read the lore when it can be yelled at you from across a dusty yard. Because the creator of the castle is still there. Sitting by the gift shop in a lawn chair, surveying all his work. Barely able to walk, but can school anyone within ear shot about the dangers of the Central Bank and paper currency. I LOVE these types, because with their ranting and screaming, there are major point in which they are completely correct. A paper-based currency with private bankers controlling markets makes no sense. But... hey, whatcha going to do. I mean besides moving to the southern part of the Rocky Mountains and spend fifty years dragging stones to build a viking stronghold effigy. 

When we arrived at this mountain edifice, thinking is would be safe due to its remoteness, we quickly learned it was not deserted at all. In fact it was over-run by tourists... all excited for their first adventure after the pandemic and completely over. Done. Eradicated. So this meant that there was not a face mask in site. Other than the ones we were wearing. We left with clearer understanding of how the Federal Reserve works, Spoiler Alert; it's run by demons, and that people are selfish jerks. 

The Glamor of Air Travel

I have Southwest airline miles in my account and they are burning a hole in my pocket. Not Literally of course, but damn it! I want to go on an airplane somewhere. 

I check in on my Southwest airline credit card frequently, and watch as the flight miles mock me. They know I can't fly right now, so they tease me and my grounded status. Yes, I know it is possible to fly domestically right now, but I can't. This is due to the lack of self-control of my fist meeting the nose of anyone I might happen to come across not wearing a face mask. I mean, if you cry it's your liberty and personal freedom to not wear the mask in public then it is equally (and just as much a right) to personal freedom for me to breakout a couple of your teeth with my left fist. If  a person feels so powerfuly drawn to stand up for their agency as an american, I have a balanced right to send them away in an ambulance.  I jest; obviously, but this is also why I can't fathom taking a vacation right now. Having to make my way through an airport with an unchecked and uncontrolled (on the federal leverl) virus, it's not possible. 

I have started to make plans for October and Atlanta Pride. To hangout with Patrick and have him meet Brian, the action-packed, super-cute boyfriend. So, there is that. By October I assume we will all be on mandatory COVID vaccination shots. And we'll be weeks away from saying "President- elect Bidan" Soooooooo, I guess I should cool my credit card points yearning. I mean, I guess I could buy tickets for 2021 Dragcon in LA; whenever that is? By then we will be saying "President Biden sure fucking saved us, didn't he?!"