Phoenix drivers remain phucking bad even in pandemic

The natives are getting restless.*

*as I predicted in prior post

Many are squirming out from under quarantine / lockdown / stay-at-home orders. A tamp-down of Life by any other name is still a tamp-down.

It’s particularly evident in the increased traffic.

Where IS everyone going?!

Yet people here in Phoenix, Arizona are definitely on the move!

In greatly reduced numbers, yes, compared to the norm. Think California.

What baffles and repulses are the accidents!

Phoenix roads and freeways look as they did maybe 30 years ago — before first Sprawl then Californication swallowed up vast desert land.

Wide open roads … little traffic … ample space to maneuver … change lanes without slamming into the car in front … or getting slammed from behind.

Driving now is as enjoyable and comfortable as it will ever be in Phoenix thanks to the pandemic. (For that reason, I hate to see it end but that’s another post.)

In near-perfect driving conditions, it’s reasonable to expect there’d be near-zero crashes.

Uh-uh, nope, negative, not happening.

Must be written:

I loveloveLOOOOOVE to drive on open roads and travel. Was born for them.

I take my driving responsibilities and the safety of others (and self) very seriously. Always have. Recklessness is not in my nature on the roads.

Driving is not a right. It is a privilege and an honor.

So you can see why I’m beside myself digging for answers to why all these crashes in the Best of Times on Phoenix roads!

Possible theories:

  • Assholes remain assholes, regardless of conditions.

To my thinking, perfect driving conditions reduce stress, in turn increasing opportunity for safety, attentiveness, alertness, responsiveness. May be true for some but certainly not all, as accident numbers indicate.

  • People won’t put down their phones, regardless.

Universally self-explanatory.

  • Some people see clear(er) freeways as opportunity to really lead-foot it.

This surprises (and disturbs) most. I’ve had to really think this one through because it is so fucking foreign.

See, for me, even if there’s zero traffic and cops (NEVER happens!), I’m abiding by the posted speed limit — no more than 10% over.

However, some drivers see less-crowded roads not as opportunity to enhance and enjoy safety and ease but rather to damn the torpedoes, full SPEED ahead. Let loose. Use the freeway as a personal racetrack.

Example. Phoenix freeway speed limits are 65 mph (104 km/h).

The other day I observed a driver weaving past obstacles (called cars), gunning it at about 90 mph (144 km/h) — and even that seemed too slow for him.

There’s an accident waiting to happen and good god it will not be pretty.

For the record, Phoenix has a very high rate of high-impact crushing accidents and fatalities.

We also hold the national dubious claim of high numbers of wrong-way drivers — most impaired — on freeways.

All in all, driver stats in Phoenix are quite grim.

And the pandemic has not made better men of drivers.

On the contrary, it has laser-lit what ails Phoenix.

Very sad for now’s the opportunity TO truly enjoy city roads.

But as in most things, for every good apple, there’s 2 or 3 bad ones to ruin it.

Closing thought:

Once everything reopens and this (BS) shutdown retreats in the rear-view mirror where it staunchly belongs, it is certain that Phoenix drivers shall reclaim their dangerous and deadly ways en masse.

I’m sorry I have to be here for it. A genuinely passionate and responsible lover of the roads deserves better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I’m out. Not of my mind but the bullshit.

I’m washing my hands of this pandemic. No pun intended.

This trumped-up overhyped overkill — no pun intended — suspiciously timed to upend a strong president and economy. All so very clear (to thinking rational attentive folks).

My head was buried in reading, research and examining “all things pandemic” when this exploded on the scene a month ago. As usual, I was ahead of the curve in thought, awareness and self-education. I arrived at my own conclusions early on and have not wavered from what I know to be true or in any way bought into panic, fear and unreason.

Once this thing quickly took over like an insane miserable wildfire, fanned by the media, I was already done and out.

There is no vaccine for Media Saturation.

Including social media.

In the pandemic’s early days, I enjoyed a good reading run on Twitter. Enjoyed not only the “sciencey” intellectual opinions and insights by credible sources but the spirit of community that erupted.

Some clever, many creative, some downright crazy responses and posts on Twitter.

How to beat boredom. Crazy animal stunts. The Top 100 Movies to Watch in Lockdown. How to Cook a Meal with 5 Ingredients. What This Lockdown Taught Me: I Can’t Stand My Spouse and Want a Divorce. Like NOW!

And of course a zillion sarcastic or silly memes involving toilet paper.

Remember toilet paper, folks? Remember in the days of yore when it EXISTED in abundance on shelves everywhere?! … before the Goblins of Greed scurried in, snatched up rolls by the hundreds and sold it on eBay for 20 bucks a pop or outside of the backs of their vans?

BTW, I’ve not seen a single roll ANYWHERE for more than a month. And I live in Phoenix, (population 5+ million) so that “ANYWHERE” is fucking sprawled! I’ve given up.

I do still look for it … more for potential shock value than need. But if SHOCK OF SHOCKS I ever do come across any, I’ll pick up the Limit 1 Package to donate. My heart just bleeds for the elderly and disabled in this nest of wasps that is called a pandemic.

But finally reading even the “Best of Twitter” — is there such a thing?! — the amusing, uplifting and positive posts, pix and vids of people doing amazing GOOD, stories of first responders and delivery drivers and individuals doing whatever it takes to protect their small businesses and  every human being working retail  …. bless ’em all! … became exhausting.

I Am Saturated by a Shrewd Stunt.

I’m out.

Nothing to do but wait for Things to Come to Light — and they shall. Already are. The natives are growing restless. Pushback in a ridiculous unnecessary shutdown of an entire country for what is basically a flu is now unfolding.

Fractures are developing and the cracks widening. Heads will start rolling, you watch.

People exhausted by this unnaturally cramped-down tamped-down economy and life will begin rebelling and revolting in a myriad of ways.

They already are but it’s gonna really ramp up in the next couple weeks. Gonna get ugly in some places. Mark my words. Guns will come out. Shots — even if rubber bullets or tear-gas canisters — will be fired.

As for me outside of public pandemonium … when even substantive online reading and “the Best of Twitter” and favorite talk-radio shows no longer satisfied or downright irritated and inflamed my impatience with Stupidities and Sheeple, I gravitated to more satisfying human endeavors:

  • Listening to music on Pandora
  • Journaling consistently (not having done so is my bad)
  • Walking regularly (due to gym’s closure)
  • Watching Netflix at night (no change in routine)

Strictly limiting — even curtailing  –my time online (including beloved talk radio) and tuning out pandemic topics is an important necessary respite and escape from an otherwise CONSUMING madness.

Plus I’m damn sick of the media spin. (And I can really say that as one who got a Bachelor of Journalism degree from the nation’s best School of Journalism back in the 1970s when journalism was still journalism! Those days are long gone.)

I’m ahead of the curve, as usual, like I said.

Thus having removed myself from the fray, all I can do is wait for (1) the mayhem to ensue — the rebellions, “civil disobedience” as people break imposing (and unconstitutional) rules especially in liberal-infested New York and California  … and (2) the mayhem of this manufactured pandemic to die down.

My goal, nee recipe for sanity, is to remain as unaffected by this Shit Storm that I neither created nor participate in (only am impacted by as we all are).

Quality time engaged in quality activities that have little to do with “news” … “pandemic” … “deadly virus” … “infections count” … “lockdown” … “stay-at-home orders” … “hoarding”  … “toilet paper” … {fill-in-the-Covid-related-word} …

The blowback’s comin’, folks!

It’s already happening but it’s gonna grow from a gentle ripple to a tsunami very quickly and very soon as people increasingly wake up … realizing not only that they’ve been duped big time! … but above all one cannot tamp-down life / Life.

The vital Life Force cannot be contained — not without severe destructive consequences and fortunately we’re not a miserable Communist country (yet!). (See North Korea for examples.)

That’s what I’ve got today. Things are about to get really ugly, alarming, even disturbing and frightening to Sheeple who have bowed to the (human) powers that be.

Next two weeks shall be interesting, very interesting indeed. So hold onto your horses! Just keep one hand on the reins and the other on your adult beverage of choice.

Mine happens to be hoppy IPAs. Cheers to all that we love in these dark times!

Trellis Falls IPA

Trellis Falls Hazy IPA – by Modern Times Brewery, San Diego

 

I Am Officially Defeated: By People.

This damn trumped-up and overhyped pandemic has taken a toll on each of us.

Individual characters, individual stories, individual circumstances. Crisis or not, that’s life.

Not gonna play catch up since this all came down. Not gonna retrace my steps or bullet-point the volume of Pandemic / Lockdown material.

Instead, I will share what has singularly impacted me and stayed with me the most in this past month.  A picture speaks a thousand words.

bareaisles

Every  TP aisle in every market every day for a month.  WE HAVE TREES, PEOPLE! WHAT WE DON’T HAVE IS THOUGHTFULNESS AND RESPECT TOWARD OTHERS.

 

Have not seen one roll of toilet paper for a month.

Some 12 markets in total. Different neighborhoods and times of day.

Not. One. Goddamn. Fucking. Roll. Ever. Anywhere.

That factoid’s not what slices my heart.

It’s what’s behind it, aka the rest of the story. Or True Story, in this instance.

It’s people.

It is people hoarding.

No. Dig Deeper.

It is Greed. It is Unabashed and Unmitigated Selfishness.

Bingo.

It’s communist Mother Russia on the shelves. Yet there is no reason or CAUSE for it.

As I’ve blogged before, all supplies for manufacturing and delivering toilet paper ARE STILL PRESENT. Ain’t like the forests all fucking burned down. Ain’t like delivery trucks are garaged.

There is but ONE AND ONLY ONE reason why shelves are stripped bare.

Goddamn fucking Greed. One of the 7 Deadly Sins, speaking of Easter.

That’s the True Story in that photo of decimated shelves. Soo so so so so many times I’ve gone into markets — sometimes 4 in a day — looking for toilet paper.

Not even for me. For others. To donate. Especially to elderly and disabled who are the first to be ripped to shreds by the Shark Tank that is People.

That’s the Belly Punch. Trying to help others from pure compassion. And I can’t.

I’ve felt deep despair going into markets to gather supplies for others.

And I’ve been defeated. For a month.

One question philosophically comes to mind, one that I dare not venture to address in a blog:

WHY THE FUCK BE GOOD IN LIFE?

The Vicious the Selfish the Greedy the Self-Serving Win Every Time. Perhaps they don’t win the battle but they WILL and DO win the war.

Time and time and day and day again those same stripped shelves greet me.  I think of elderly who can’t get their wrinkly hard-working hands on ONE roll of toilet paper.

And I understand how vigilantes are born.

We are a people in peril.

God, that motherfucker, can’t help, rather won’t.

Jesus, eh, believe as you wish.

Nothing and No Body alters the truth:

People are horrible. Not all of them. However, even a handful or two can destroy a nation and its people.

I despair not because of the absence of toilet paper (that I seek to buy for others) but because People Are Shit: In their Greed Selfishness and Utter Disregard for Others.

THAT is why I despair at Mother Russia-like Shelves Stripped Bare.

I’m supremely empathetic. I feel it all, human suffering always have.

And this raw uninterrupted exposure to human Greed  … Selfishness … WHEN THERE IS NO CAUSE OR REASON! … WE’RE NOT MOTHER RUSSIA STRIPPED OF TREES! ….

This is my most poignant and pointed experience in this pandemic.

Greed. Selfishness

I despair at fellow man.

I AM ASHAMED TO BE PART OF THE HUMAN RACE.

NONE of this did I create. NONE of this can I fix.

When evil triumphs — and it does — what then is the point of existing? Or applying all our will to survive against those Dark Forces?

Greed. Selfishness.

Happy Easter. Yeah, right. Because people are so damn good?!?!

I’m defeated by people.

I am defeated.

Bigfoot or Brawny? Which the rarer sighting?

Bigfoot and paper towels got something in common.

They exist.

But I expect to see one sooner than the other.

Charmin toilet paper and Brawny paper towels do exist. In abundance.

Trees from which the products are sourced haven’t disappeared. They’re plentiful.

Ditto paper processing and manufacturing plants. Ditto delivery systems and trucks (bless these truckers in trying times!).

The ONE reason the ONLY reason shelves are ghost towns is:

People.

In their utter greed. Their reprehensible selfishness. Their total disregard for or AWARENESS of others.

I’ve not seen even one roll of TP or paper towels in any of the dozen stores I’ve visited, some on the daily, in the past two weeks — and growing.

I’ve now concluded that I won’t. No time soon, probably months.

I stand a better chance of spotting Bigfoot in the Cascades of  the Northwest … Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands …the kraken in Norwegian waters …

… than I have of finding just one roll of TP or paper towels on ANY shelf ANYWHERE in massive PHOENIX: population: 5+ million!

This ain’t rinky-dink-middle-of-nowhere USA.

Expecting to see no paper products for months, I’ve prepared, taken inventory of my supplies.

(1) Two rolls of paper towels.

These I won’t touch unless ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY — when no substitute will do, i.e., cleaning windows and mirrors.

“Unfortunately” for me in these times, I’m quite the clean freak! Neat freak. My place is pretty spotless all the time so a moratorium on paper towels presents a challenge.

However, even before this  absurd crisis, I was strongly mindful about using resources conservatively — i.e., reusing paper towels repeatedly until reusability was exhausted.

To preserve this precious commodity that is a single sheet of paper towel, I’ll be using a cheap thin flimsy washable cleaning cloth from China — a cruel joke!  Poor substitute for paper towels indeed but it’s all the store had, thank you motherf-ing hoarders.

(2) Two packages of toilet paper.

Will not touch unless ABSOLUTELY necessary, if you get my drift. Otherwise, another washable Chinese cloth to catch pee drips suffices.

Truth is:

Human Greed does not go away.

Hoarding, a consciousness of ME ME ME AND ONLY ME AND NO ONE ELSE BUT ME … here to stay.

Depriving others for one’s selfish gains … injustices … wrongful actions that cause hurt, harm, suffering and lack for others  … these and worse are ever present.

(p.s. unsurprisingly, these behaviors have sent gun and ammo sales soaring.)

So as I adapt to “What Is: According to the People’s Rules Book that I Did Not Write, Co-Author or Edit” I pen with unabashed conviction:

I shall be sighting Bigfoot before a bundle of paper towels.

OLD MYTH CIRCA 1958:

bigfoot

BIGFOOT AVOIDING PEOPLE. Can’t blame him.

NEW MYTH 2020:

papertowels

REMEMBER THIS RELIC?

Virus Vote: Verizon: Yay. Cox: Nay.

We’re all gettin’ ’em.

Emails from businesses, service providers, eateries, every email list you’re on regarding changes in policies, procedures, operating hours, during this pandemic.

I wanna give a shout-out to Verizon. Yeah, that telecommunications behemoth with its indelible “Can You Hear Me Now?”

Yes I can!

My text alert buzzed a few days ago. I very rarely receive texts — and most are telling me some bill is due — so I didn’t open it with anticipation.

‘Twas a surprise awright:

“We have added 15GB of data to your plan at NO CHARGE.”

Whaaaa?!?!

“For use from March 25-April 30.” A deadline, awrighty, I’ll take that!

“You can even use your phone as a mobile hotspot.” No need but nice to know.

See, I’m on Verizon’s cheapest bare-bones plan — 2GB a month. Piddly — even laughable — amount. Millennials and snowflakes would roll their eyes.

Yes, I’d tell ’em, I do live on data crumbs! ‘Cause my phone is a separate entity NOT welded to my body!

Anywho. This data gift comes at a great time! With the gym closed — and Phoenix weather still pleasant (though not for very much longer ) — I’m out walking every day, often listening to the radio on the phone. Bumps up my data use big-time.

Now I needn’t add overage fees to my stacked plate of worries!

Ultimately it’s not about the data bonus — still very nice! It’s about the goodwill: the heart of customer service.

And this gesture I shall remember should I re-evaluate my carrier down the road.

I Can Hear You — And Don’t Like What You’re Saying

 

Cox Communications on the other hand … too that telecommunications giant and leading Internet provider in my region.

My monthly bill just abruptly shot up from $60 to $90 — a 50% increase. No forewarning, no announcement, no knowledge and certainly no consent from me.

This REALLY TICKED ME OFF.

I’ll spare you the grisly telephone scenes … the sum hour on hold … shoddy “customer service” … Cox dropping the ball. We don’t need the stress.

In these troubled times, EVERY local service provider is recognizing tough times and stepping up with pretty remarkable and generous offers to ease the burdens on customers.

Everybody except Cox, to my experience.

Not only did they jack up my Internet costs 50% with no warning or *any* change in service whatsoever!, they played hard hard hardball in negotiating a new rate.

To be noted: I’ve been a model customer this past year. Not that they care, reward that or incentivize my continued business in any way. They don’t.

After grueling conversations, my increase is now “only” 15% instead of 50%.

Insert me on my knees in classic: “We’re not worthy. We’re worthy” from “Wayne’s World.”

Is it about the money?

It is, yes, in part.

Everyone’s finances are getting hit. Most of us are cutting back, cutting out and operating in survival mode.

Innumerable businesses and service provides are extending discounts, forgivenesses of late fees, etc. etc. etc. to ease burdens.

Cox is doing the opposite.

It’s raising my rate, regardless. Giving no incentive to continue giving them my business or loyalty.

It is partly about the money, the increased stress imposed during incredibly stressful times.

And it’s about the goodwill — or lack thereof.

Just as I shall remember Verizon for its generous gesture in a crisis, too shall Cox be remembered for being, really, cold-hearted dickheads.

(Were my Stressors Plate not already overloaded, I’d have dumped ’em. Just don’t have wherewithal for demanding research into Cox competitors, technology and equipment changes.)

So yes, Verizon, I can hear you now! MERCI.

Cox, I can year you too. Cold-hearted Careless Meanie.

Patience wearing thin like these Chinese cloths

The banjo strings are tightening.

I’ve been supremely patient and adaptive since this whole coronavirus thing erupted.

(After abundant rigorous reading and research, I’ve arrived at my own conclusions — but no postings on that.)

I’ve also, to my credit, taken the higher road — or at minimum the right road — at every step.

I’ve participated NOT AT ALL in greed and hoarding. To me, they are revolting, repulsive and make me ashamed to be part of the human race.

I’ve mindfully been present in all public transactions — momentary though they be. Smiling at another during a walk. Social distancing, particularly for the comfort of others. Striking up (socially-distanced) conversations with strangers.

In rotten times, I become nicer, kinder. My better self emerges because it can.

Meaning: In normal conditions, I become invisible, insignificant, irrelevant — rendered so in a gluttonous Western society of ME ME ME ONLY ME ALWAYS ME NO ONE BUT ME. I’m the proverbial tiny goldfish in a sea of sharks and they are vicious!

So! Acts of kindness, expressions of acknowledgement, appreciation and gratitude — these are at my forefront and heaped particularly upon every market cashier.

Their jobs are SHIT now …. made so by SHIT people. I’ve worked retail. I know its hells in normal times. My heart truly goes out to employees on the public front lines during these shambles.

So yesterday I walked to the nearest (large-chain) market as I’ve done nearly every day for the past week.

I was in search of — rather hope for — one roll of paper towels. That’s it.

ONE. Not 100. Not 1,000. Not 1 million to sell at 10,000% markup on eBay. ONE.

It was the exact same scene that it’s been for nearly 2 weeks there and everywhere. Shelves stripped of toilet paper, paper towels. As usual.

I left empty-handed as usual.

On my way out, I chatted with the clerk. Of late, this is my ONLY interaction with another human being. Not exaggerating.

And I uncharacteristically vented.

About the absence of paper products. Not seeing TP, tissues, paper towels for nearly 2 weeks everywhere I go. Of shelves stripped bare.

“Not mad at you!” I assured the young clerk, who remained friendly, apologetic patient. “It’s everywhere. I’m just so TIRED of this. I’m venting. I’m just venting.”

He understood.

Fact is, there’s no SHORTAGE of paper products. Manufacturing is still happening — big time!

It’s people’s GREED the unending stream of GREED and HOARDING that’s creating this.

It’s been about 2 weeks since this whole thing erupted. You’d THINK that all the hoarders and “greeders” would’ve overstuffed themselves, overfilled their plates by now — resulting in products on shelves again.

But no. IT IS STILL GOING ON.

ENOUGH ALREADY!

My patience is wearing thin.

My graciousness is being strained — by this whole ShitShow.

By people being TOTAL DICKS.

There’s NO REASON FOR IT. Buy your roll of paper towels or TP or Kleenex. BUY WHAT YOU NEED AND LEAVE SOME FOR OTHERS! DICKHEADS!

I’m done.

Not a single roll of paper towels to be had.

I left with the sole unsuitable substitute for paper towels in the store. Cheap reusable cloths from China (ugh) … flimsy and thin … like my patience is becoming:

cleaningcloths

What a roll of paper towel looks like amid human Greed. Recorded March 27 2020.

Many people are truly suffering — and worse — now.

My problems don’t amount to a hill of beans.

Yet ALL of us are experiencing stress, hardships, frustrations and, for me, a heightened unmitigated disgust with people’s bad behaviors — which are making things WORSE and adding gasoline to a fire that none of us started or invited.

In these times, there’s the Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

I’ve reported on the Good in prior posts. Today I report on the Ugly.

I’m exhausted.

End of today’s post.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meeting My Maker? Nah. My Manna.

Do you remember that very special birthday present you got as a child?

One that was a real surprise, not one you nagged for week after week. Coulda been anything … teddy bear … an article of clothing … a train set … a sketchpad with colored pencils … a bracelet … a rock ‘n’ roll album … pair of Keds … endless are the possibilities.

As a share, for me it was my first diary, hardbound in presumably faux brown leather, with “Diary” in cursive gold print.

Best of all, it had a little lock with a little key! A key that I assure you never got lost! Even as a child, I was extraordinarily meticulous and organized. It’s the German in me.

The diary was a total surprise. I was at the perfect age for one too (early adolescence). Even if the tag read “from mom and dad,” my mother, I’m certain, was behind it. We had a truly horrible traumatizing relationship indeed. Yet I must give credit where it is due. She had a real knack with gifts. Her gift was the ability to give spot-on thoughtful gifts.

I digress. Back to the question. Do you remember that surprising birthday present?

That’s what I experienced — albeit in muted fashion — yesterday.

I saw … for the first time … in 1-1/2 weeks … in any of some 10 stores I’ve been frequenting, some daily …  {drum roll} …

YES!! YESSSS! YESSSS! {insert Meg Ryan’s infamous orgasmic scene from “When Harry Met Sally}

Flabbergasted!

Here, I’ll show you the (not-award-winning) snapshot so’s you can see for yourself the sight that stopped me dead in my tracks:

tissueshelf

Boxes of Tissues. Witnessed for First Time in 10 Days. Recorded: March 26, 2020.

That, my friends, is: tissue.

Boxes of tissues!

Not just one brand but several brands and price ranges to pick from!

As you can see, the shelves were fairly stripped bare already, no argument there. Still. There were SOME! Blog-worthy!

Meanwhile, for full disclosure, the adjoining toilet paper shelves remain as barren as I’ve seen them also for the past 10 days (and growing).

emptyshelves

Toilet Paper Used to Reside Here. It’s Since Been Relocated By the Human Hands of Greed. Recorded March 26, 2020.

I saw boxes of tissues!!! You’d think I’d spotted Yeti!

I studied those tags, price per unit, etc.etc. etc.  in a manner unprecedented for (1) one box of tissue and (2) an inherently careful comparison shopper.

Sorta like buying an iPhone! I wouldn’t waltz in and grab the first one that catches my eye. I research. Study. Break down. Discern. Decipher. Calculate. Meticulous Thinking German me.

I chose wisely. I chose well.

And — hear me, world — I chose one box. O-N-E.

1. 1. 1 1 1 1 1 1. ONLY ONE.

I could have taken 2 boxes — the store’s posted limit.

But I took one. BECAUSE THAT IS ALL I NEED AT THIS MOMENT.

If more’s needed down the road, I’ll take my chance, roll the dice.

My rage at the greed, hoarding, blatant unfettered SELFISHNESS could set the universe ablaze. So I won’t venture there. Suffice it to say that reasons why I hate people are on full 24/7 display.

I walked the half-mile home last night with precisely two items in the bag: a container of ice cream (mistake) and one box of tissue.

I’ll be honest. I wondered what might happen if someone knew I was carrying … and by carrying, I do mean tissues, not heroin.

Hopefully you’ve seen the pix and vids of what people are doing to one another for coveted paper products … the assaults … arguments … fights … glass from a broken bottle in a store held against customers … so’s I don’t hafta explain this mad, mad, mad, mad world.

I arrived home safely. Opened that tissue box with indeed the care and attention I give a gift received.

Pulled a single sheet, whoooooosh! Two came out. I pushed the second sheet back in. Set the box in a place of prominence so I may enjoy its presence.

My single box holds 80 tissues. Each sheet I shall use over and over and over in thrift and mindfulness. I know, so know how to survive in lack and hardship.

I shall say: It is a true pleasure, this single box of tissues.

For what you don’t know in this story — and now shall — is that it’s now high-pollen season here in Phoenix / southern Arizona.

And though I’m not typically allergies-prone, the stuff — from pollens to pollution — in this desert metro sprawl are murderous.

I make due with little to nothing. That’s my nature (survive). My childhood damage. So using rough ‘n’ rugged paper towels as I’ve been doing for blazing allergy symptoms is no biggie.

But a TISSUE on a nose turned raw in this gawd-awful pollens-polluted Phoenix! … what luxury! Soooo soft! It’s manna, man! It. Is. Manna!

Meet My Manna in a Box:

TISSUES!

There Is No Heaven. But There Is Manna in My Studio. Recorded March 27, 2020

Then, for a giggle, meet my other Manna in a Box … manna that nobody’s hoarding, stealing, price-gouging, selling on eBay for the price of a monthly mortgage. Give thanks to our blessings where we have them:

winebox

Merlot is Manna Too