Trump Crushes and The Next Step

"Trump-fever" seems to have overwhelmed millions, yet I've noticed a few things.  First, no one I know well takes him all that seriously.  (Since I haven't actually asked a lot of people directly, I expect sooner or later I will feel the need to directly ask a few people to identify self-identify as true Trump fans before I draw any conclusions).

I formed another, similar impression last Saturday.   I was strolling around a typical art fair/seafood festival--well they are frequent enough around here that I have attended dozens over the past 20 years, and I think this one was not far different from most others. Anyway, I noticed an unusual booth.  It was what appeared to be the local Republican Party's booth. It was adorned exclusively with Trump signs and stickers. The odd thing to me was that no one was approaching the booth.  There were eight or nine smiling Trumpeters, but no one looked to be willing to even speak to them.  I found myself asking, "Are people embarrassed to admit they support Mr. Trump?  Who else is embarrassed to have it become known they "like" someone?  Are you smarter than a 5th grader?

Yes, it made me reflect on some reading I have done on adolescent/teenage crushes, and what psychologists think about them.  As we all know, crushes are those sometimes otherwise inexplicable attractions that are often developed by pre-adolescent and adolescent young people (and some adults, I would say) toward people to whom they might be slightly attracted.

Now, it is important that I make a clarifying distinction--there are "romantic" crushes and "identity" crushes.  I am talking about the latter kind.  Psychologists say that although the crush appears to be about attraction to another person, it is actually about projection of valued attributes onto another person.  In this sense, the crush is a statement about what a person finds attractive. In this, crushes are very revealing.

So, remembering that the person who has the crush largely projects onto another person idealized attributes the admirer highly values and wants to be associated with, and then she or he attaches strong positive feelings to the perfectly wonderful image that has been created, we need to take a look at what people are projecting onto Mr. Trump. and that is harder to examine, given that few of the people I have met or know actually support him.  Think about it--we do not have to study Mr. Trump and his message (at last I don't think we do), we have to study what admirers have projected onto him.  

The media are missing the point by choosing to publicize all of his ridiculous statements, aren't they?  This complicates things.  I will have to step aside and try studying what people are projecting onto him, but at the moment, no one I know personally is openly supporting him.  "Is a puzzlement," said the King in "The King and I." 

When I was a boy, world was better spot

What was so was so, what was not was not

Now, I am a man, world have changed a lot

Some things nearly so, others nearly not"  

 So, onward we must go, mostly without the help of the media, to learn what those having this short-term "crush" on Mr. Trump are really seeking.  Or, we can accept the media's current perspective, which seems to be "Wow, listen to what that whacko Trump said yesterday!  And look at the polls, he leads all the other Republican candidates, so all of them must be whacko, too."  

Testing Google, 1, 2, 3....

To understand the ultimate question being asked herein, I have to set the stage by providing some background.  I live in a warm climate (and have for the past twenty years).  In such a climate some things are unavoidable.  High temperatures in the summer, exceeding 100 degrees Fahrenheit, at times is one example.  Relative humidity levels often track the same path, into the 90's.

People, even some in my category who arrived here intentionally, are wont to complain about some of the conditions that accompany this weather.  "Oh, I sweated through my shirt today." or "I can feel my sweat dripping down the back of my pants leg," or "I had to stop to clean the sweat off my glasses," and even, "I had sweat dripping off the end of my nose (in some cases mingling with snot, if you must know)."  Such are the conditions we are expected to tolerate willingly, having been born or moved into this kind of climate.

I am almost sure that women speak amongst themselves about annoying effects of such hot weather, even as they pretend they do not sweat profusely like men, they merely perspire.  But no women were interviewed in preparation for this story.  I have to admit I was reluctant to even bring the matter up in mixed company as my wife has made it known to me that I sometimes venture into conversational territory in which I do not belong, and she has not, in recent memory, been unwilling to tell me to butt out.  

A fairly recent development has been the temporary reduction in wardrobe made necessary by another spell of temporary homelessness--yes we are moving again, and it has nothing to do with bill collectors,   As we are between houses, so to speak, we are unable to transport with us our entire wardrobes (even the magnificent splendor normally found in my closet and dresser drawers).  This condition required--for me at least--that I narrow it down to three pair of shoes--twenty-five percent of my total collection.   Please note, no such limit was imposed on my spouse, not even proportionally, for example, say limiting her to thirty pair of shoes).  Whatever--I chose a pair of New Balance cross-trainers (in geezer white, of course), a pair of sandals (not flip-flops, they irritate my left big toe), and a pair of boat shoes or deck shoes.  You know what I mean, they were originally popularized by Sperry, and copied by many others.  The pairs I have--yes, I have two, for reasons to be explained later--are marketed under the Margaritaville brand, although I doubt Margaritaville has a shoe manufacturing arm, just a marketing one.  They are newly purchased, within the last six months, as I recall.

Now most of the time, I place socks over my feet before donning the shoes (no, not the sandals--way too dorky!).  While visiting cooler climes, where we wore jeans and even long-sleeved shirts at times, this was not a problem.  As we worked our way back south, a vexing problem set in.  Wearing socks inside boat or deck shoes in shorts is really dorky, or at least in my mind it is.  I even tried those socks that barely reach the shoe tops.  The problem with those is two-fold--first they are still visible inside your shoes, thus duplicating the dorky effect of wearing taller socks; and, secondly, they tend to roll down the back of your feet, and slide beneath your heel into your arch.  Uncomfortable and not very attractive!

So, eventually, I started wearing these boat shoes without socks.  It was just a necessary step, so to speak.  Not long thereafter, I received a complaint, from my regular roommate, passenger/driver, etc.--my wife.  She claimed my feet, which naturally sweat a little in the warmer weather, smelled awful (I think there were a few more emphatic descriptors added, but I have forgotten them).  At any rate, she soon extended that description to my shoes even when my feet were not presently in them.  I had to purchase another pair of identical shoes--ones that did not smell--to replace my first pair even though they were not worn out.

Realizing I would soon own way too many pairs of shoes, I had to act fast.  I consulted the all-knowing, all-seeing source of wisdom--Google.  "How do I keep my feet from smelling?"  If you keep looking, you will eventually find the simplest remedy ever, but you are going to have to go look for yourself.  I will not spell out this remedy, but you will eventually find it, there are bound to be leaks.

At any rate, I have adopted this solution, but I have one simple problem.  I do not know if it works!  I lost my sense of smell some time ago (which my wife says explains why she is constantly on my case about it).  She is only trying to help--oh, of course--since she knows of my lost sense of smell.  I am reluctant to ask my wife if the problem has gone away, since she would stay at me until I provided a detailed explanation, and I will not do that, period.  You would know why I won't tell her if you knew what method I have begun to employ.  She just would not be very understanding about it.  In the mean time, I will just have to go on not knowing---unless, maybe I should just google this one, too!  Let's see....

My favorite perch in St Louis

As I sit at my favorite perch, overlooking Forest Park, let's not miss the coincidence that I'm going to the zoo this morning, although I doubt I'll see any--perch, that is.  Not that I won't see any perches or perching going on, just not the fish.

 I take note of the fact that the temp here is 20 degrees lower here than home.  Yes, I still call it home even as I am presently homeless and am building a home a good distance away.

Anyway, the drop in temp allows me to wear long sleeves, more specifically, my Chicago Bears tee shirt. In most other settings I might hesitate to don this shirt, given the Bears' dismal performance and outlook for the season.  But at the zoo, backing the Bears might be looked upon with some respect.  There is a new polar bear at this zoo, so I won't be alone contemplating bears as we enter the zoo.

So I gaze park one more time at the view of the park and go to do my exercise set in the faint hope that all that food I ate yesterday won't become permanently attached. Wish me luck.

To Beard, Or Not To Beard....

Recently, I caught myself wondering about something, something I had never considered before--why not grow a beard?  No, I haven't been watching Duck Dynasty.  In fact, I don't think I have ever watched an entire episode of that one.  That's not a criticism, there are thousands of television programs of which I have never watched an entire episode.  That's not it at all.

Why consider a beard?  I am old, in case you haven't noticed.  One of the many wonders of reaching this age is the joy that simple tasks like shaving can bring.  After devoting the usual ten minutes or so, I usually rinse off my face with my hands and a little water.  After feeling my face and noticing it's not smooth at all, I start over.  The problem is, I have an old man's face.  I have grooves and curves (some in the form of wrinkles, others just the result of fading resiliency of my skin) where I didn't before.  My face sags in places it never sagged before, here-the beginning of jowls, there the double chin and the "turkey neck."

Getting the stubble in the grooves formed by wrinkles around my mouth takes pressure that you'd swear will cut your flesh.  Smoothing the not-so-resilient skin that droops from this face requires contorting the face in ways unseen before just to get something to press the razor against.  If I didn't redo my morning shave, I'm pretty certain I'd be growing portions of a beard anyway.  So why not?  It sounds appealing in some ways.  To a lazy person, which I am not (of course), not having to shave every morning might be appealing.  There are some who think the opposite sex might find you more attractive--I have no data on that point, but my sense is that the men on Duck Dynasty have the attractive spouses because of their bank balances, not the pretty faces hiding behind those beards.

I went to google for some advice on the disadvantages of having a beard.  Food on your face from earlier meals appears in everyone's list.  A more subtle--but related--disadvantage is that beards hold and grow bacteria, and can hold and pass along viruses.  Who knew?  How did the cave men survive?  
Another disadvantage is that little children find you scarier--to some old men I know (W.C.Fields, for example?) this might not be so bad.  Oh, and I have no data to support this one either, but several responders reported women found men with beards less attractive.   My sense is that a lot of us don't have much room to give up many points on this scale (OK, I admit it, I am one of those that can't afford to give any points away).

So, for now, no beard for me.  I'm more afraid of the disadvantages than the extra time looking st myself in the mirror each day, painful as that might be.

Reflections From The Road--It Takes All Kinds

This is the ideal time of year to be shopping in the resort towns, isn;t it?  What didn't sell to the tourists during the peak season is now available at a fraction or that price.  Shoppers who select an item usually grin at the prospect, probably because they don't realize that even this slashed price represents about a hundred percent markup on the shop's cost.  You might expect that the sales personnel would at least be smiling, knowing they were still making a killing.  In little shops like these, many of the shops are being staffed by the shopkeeper and his/her family, after all.  Those that aren't family, are likely long-time employees who know the shop's success means continued success for them.

So, I found it odd to hear one of the sales people repeat to more than one customer that she was "just tired, tired of it all, and needed some time off."  This being a week or more after the season ended, I just wondered that she hadn't had enough rest.

My sister and my wife noted another clerk literally chased them away from a spot where they stood comparing possible purchases, saying loudly, "That register is closed, you can't stand there."  They also noticed she was really very short with several other customers.   We overheard another employee  explaining her mood.  "She just lost Sadie, and Sadie's brother passed away last year, and now, Walter is missing his friends."

Wow, I thought, that is a lot to take in, I guess.  I have to admit though, that I was less impressed when I learned that Sadie and her brother were cats, and Walter is a dog.  Loss is loss, and pets are companions for lots of people.  So, she was mourning for her pets and her pet in mourning.

Reflections From The Road--Why Did The Ducks Cross The Road?

The morning air was filled with squawks and honks.  Walking down to the water's edge, i could see the visuals that this sound track accompanied. 

The sunlight glinted off the water and the troops were lining up.   It was morning roll call for the ducks. The Sargent was herding them into line, squawking all the while. Now and then a straggler would get a serious dressing down and not a quiet one.  I counted two dozen in the line.

Now that I've been here a couple of days, I know this early assembly is not the norm. I could see it even then, the ducks sort of clucking to one another. "What's this about?" Or "What did you duck up now?"

On reflection, I think I know. The troop had an exercise last night, and it was an abject failure.  They attempted to block the road out in front of our place.  The cars slowed as they approached the ducks, but they did not stop.  The ducks had to scuttle out of the way, and soon all the ducks had crossed the road back into the relative safety of the shore and the river.  

The commander, gazing back at the line of traffic and his troops in disarray, honked and squawked his discontent.  He pondered the age-old question, "Why?"  This morning drill was the beginning of the retraining process, I'm not optimistic.

A Walk In The Wilderness

As we walked in the parking lot at the Park Plaza after watching a thoroughly enjoyable movie about another "Walk," we realized once again that becoming thoroughly absorbed in a movie will frequently diminish one's recall of exactly where you parked your car before entering the theater.  Sometimes the best thing to do is click the unlock button on your car keys, letting the noise of the horn and the flash of your lights led you there.  "Wait a minute, I'm trying to find my keys first," she said.  Well, finding the car won't do us much good if we can't find the keys, will it?  And now, finding the car without those keys might not happen either.  So, I can agree that finding the keys is the first thing, I guess.  This really is a walk in the wilderness after "A Walk In The Woods."  Or is it a "Walk On The Wild Side?"  Where's old Lou Reed when you need him?

Back to "A Walk In The Woods."  I wouldn't call it a "buddy film."  Robert Redford and Nick Nolte make an unlikely pair.  The movie is more of a reflection on what is important in life and about realizing it late in life, I think.  Or, maybe it's just me being later in life, so I see everything through that lens.  In any case, "the woods" are those along the iconic Appalachian Trail.  I've seen bits and pieces of that Trail, but never walked any part of it myself.  No, I am not feeling the call of the Trail either.  This is a time of year when I'd like to be walking more, but it is beastly hot and humid here and it's raining most of the time.  So, I put it off and worry about not getting enough exercise to chase those same two pounds around the week this week. If only worrying used up calories.  No matter how important that seems to me each day nowadays, it was time tonight to remember that taking a little time away from all the day-to-day stresses makes a big difference. Feeling that stress?  "A Walk In The Woods" might be just the thing.  Not that walking in the woods is important, but spending some time away from it all, absorbed in something else with someone important to you, is worth doing.      

Sure, you might wind up walking in the wilderness looking for your car, but you might just wear away some of that stress that's been on your mind.  It worked for us.