The Jokes Are On MIE...err, Me

Saturday–Jeff

 

^{Late last night we returned to America from Greece.  Today we spent most of our day attempting to unpack while catching up on cable news’ take on the state of our nation.  The more we learned via the latter, the less committed were we to achieving the former. After all, with each new snippet of news on what’s happening across America, the more counterintuitive unpacking became.}

 

^{It was during one of those reflective moments that I realized it was Friday and I had a blog due to go up at midnight (if in the Eastern US Time Zone). After a day of reflecting on the human condition (USA version 2023) I had no appetite for extending my serious mood in my blogpost. And I thought you might be looking for a bit of a smile too.}

 

^{So, for you play-on-words fans, here’s a dozen and a half chuckles with a somewhat international cast to them.}

 

^*****

 ^{I never thought orthopedic shoes would really work for me, but I stand corrected.}

 
^{Once upon a time there was a king who was only 12 inches tall. He was a terrible king, but he made a great ruler.
 
A Mexican magician said he will disappear on the count of 3. He says, “"Uno, dos.” Poof. He disappeared without a tres.
 
I wrote a book on how to fall down the stairs. It’s a step by step guide.
 
My son was chewing on electric cords, so I had to ground him. It’s OK, though. He’s doing better and conducting himself properly.
 
My friend claims that he “accidentally" glued himself to his autobiography, but I don’t believe him. But that's his story and he’s sticking to it.
 
“Doctor, my child swallowed a roll of film. What should I do?”
“Let’s wait and see if anything develops.”
 
An armed man ran into a real estate agency and shouted, “Nobody move.”
 
Got drunk yesterday and threw up in the elevator on my way back home. It was disgusting on so many levels.
 
Why did the Mexican take anti-anxiety medication? For Hispanic attacks.
 
I asked the surgeon if I could administer my own anesthetic. He said, “Sure. Knock yourself out!”
 
I got into a fight today with 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9. The odds were really against me.
 
In Britain it’s called a lift but Americans call it an elevator. I guess we were just raised differently
 
97% of people are stupid. Glad I’m in the other 5%.
 
Can someone please tell me what LGBTQ+ stands for? Nobody is giving me a straight answer.} 

^{The time is always right to do what is right.
  
AND FINALLY
I have 2 unwritten rules.
1.
2.}

^––Jeff

 

 

 

Jeff's Upcoming Events;

 

Friday, 17 November 2023 @ 11AM

ICELAND NOIR, Reykjavik

SUNSHINE NOIR panel @ Kjarval venue

with Philip Gwynne Jones, Lexie Elliott, and Jackie Collins

 

 

THE UNITED STATES OF DISAPPOINTMENT

 This Independence Day I find myself more full of sadness than on any other July 4. Yesterday, I was washing dishes in the kitchen and in the background was news of yet more mass shootings in various parts of the country. Out of the blue, completely unexpectedly, I got emotional and began to shed tears. I had suddenly been hit with profound feelings of sadness, helplessness and despair over the total sum of what the USA has become. Have we gone mad? 

Mass shootings are now as much a part of the American weekend as grilling burgers in the backyard. But that’s not all the lament. 

I feel sad and angry about the availability of firearms and the people who mow people down without a second thought. The pace of firearm production is actually accelerating. And don’t fall for that mental illness nonsense. This is a classic straw man fallacy.

I feel sad and angry about The Savage Six on the Supreme Court. Just outright wickedness and cruelty. The homophobic website woman did not even have standing. The case should have been thrown out, but the Savage Six could barely wait for  a chance to pounce. And affirmative action, gone. And a woman’s right to choose her future, gone. 

I feel sad and angry about the governors of various states who wake up every morning deciding how they can make life as miserable as humanly possible for LGBTQ+ people. Some cohorts of the MAGA group actually believe that the “problem” of trans people is actually more of an urgent concern for the USA than inflation, unemployment or race relations.

Sad and angry about high maternal death rates among black women, the absence of health care for all, the chasm between the miserable poor and the happy rich. 

1. It’s the nagging feeling of doubt that much can be done that generates this suffocating feeling I’m experiencing. They say “vote.” Yes, I vote, and yet the US runaway train continues to hurtle down the tracks with no brakes.

   
   

   I apologize I have no uplifting message this Independence Day.

We're Not Alone in Our Worries

Jeff--Saturday

 

For those of you who “fear their very existence is under threat,” I have news for you.  With worldwide Covid cases of more than 61.5 million, and close to 1.5 million Covid deaths, a lot of our planet agrees with you. This shared pandemic catastrophe has cast much of the world into lockdown and led many thoughtful souls into contemplating what other existential challenges their nations now face.

 

You may or may not be surprised to learn that many of the concerns you might have regarding your country and its leadership, match up nicely with those of other nations. For example, this week in Ekathimerini—Greece’s newspaper of record—Angelos Stangos wrote a column titled, “The Thinking Person’s Concerns and Fears,” in which much of what he has to say about Greece is readily applicable to much of the current state of America’s very messy democracy.   

 

In other words, read Angelos Stangos column in its entirety below, and be consoled (maybe) in knowing that we’re not alone.

The Thinking Person’s Concerns and Fears

These are perilous times for a large part of the planet, with difficult situations in many regions. They are especially dangerous for us Greeks, even though we are “part of the West” and members of its key institutions. On top of the concerns and fears triggered by the pandemic and its economic fallout on the thinking citizens of the Western world, we are further threatened by the negative characteristics of the so-called “Greek reality,” and mainly by Turkey’s unfettered provocative behavior, which has reached a new high in recent days. We refer, of course, to the concerns and fears of the thinking members of Greek society and the political class.

Thinking Greek citizens are frustrated because their way of life has, perforce, changed, but they are even more concerned and frightened – justifiably – by the fact that their lives are at risk from the novel coronavirus. They feel that their very existence is under threat, especially if they are of a certain age, as a result of a large portion of the population either consciously ignoring public health measures – many local communities continue to have this mentality, despite mounting infection figures – or are always looking for an excuse to break the rules. They also feel exposed by an irrational political debate that instead of focusing on how to contain transmission of the virus, tends to center – on the initiative of the opposition – on how to exponentially increase the number of beds in intensive care units, as if this would be an effective response to the actual virus.

The same thinking citizens are concerned and afraid because they know that apart from those sections of society that always behave responsibly, the onus of managing the pandemic also lies with state officials, from the government to regional governors and mayors, who missed the mark in some cases, like Thessaloniki, or who appear reluctant to show the necessary ownership of the measures for containing the virus. The behavior of the so-called elite is, after all, indicative, which is why thinking people break out in a cold sweat when they think of the restrictions being eased for the holidays, even though they understand the need for the economy to be given some room to work.

Lastly, thinking Greeks know that we’re in deep trouble when it comes to Turkey and its President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. They are extremely concerned – and have been told as much by many different people – that the period until US President-elect Joe Biden takes office will be critical. Ankara’s recent escalation of tension shows that it is seeking to take advantage of the power vacuum in Washington, so it is not entirely unlikely that it will try push Athens into a military response.

Greeks also know that they cannot rely too much on a safety net from Brussels or Washington, even when the new US administration takes over. They also see Turkey challenging the country’s sovereignty over islands and territorial waters, while trying to convince Europe to abandon Greece and Cyprus to their own devices and make nice with Ankara. Their fears, therefore, are entirely justified.

––Jeff

A Pandemic of Populism

For the past three months I’ve been writing a monthly column for Greece’s premier English language magazine, ATHENS INSIDER.  I submit each column untitled, leaving it to the publisher, Sudha Nair-Iliades, to select a title and write an appropriate lede (aka lead).

I get almost as much of a kick out of her take on my brief essay as I do in writing it!  This week she titled the column A PANDEMIC OF POPULISM, and for the lede wrote:

In his third corona series, Jeff Siger ponders on populist choices and consequences when politics trumps science. One of the lessons in June has been how the power of one event can have an impact on global business and popular culture. “When faced with a pandemic disease of the human body or of the body politic, it is only the elected and their electors who can change things for the better…or leave us to the worse,” he concludes.

Here’s my June column:

This is the third of my monthly chronicles on living through pandemic times, as told from the perspective of an American mystery writer who has called Greece home for 35 years. My wife and I are back in lockdown mode at our rural New Jersey farm, having just returned from two weeks in Manhattan, a worldwide coronavirus epicenter.  New York has beaten down the first wave, and is into its re-opening phases, while keeping a sharp eye out for a pandemic that thrives on complacency. 

While in NYC, I thought of the bear that ranges across my farm.  Next time I see him I’ll have to mention I saw Manhattan streets where he could wander more undisturbed than he does through my pasture.  As long as he wears a mask.

The City has a decidedly different vibe from any I’ve sensed in my fifty years living there. People move with decided purpose, keeping strictly to themselves, and virtually all in masks.  Even many homeless are masked. We’re in a thirty-story building, with all but a third of its residents having escaped to places outside the City. A third of the building’s workforce has been struck down by the virus, some for weeks, some for months. One young doorman told me how he’d spent weeks battling the virus alone in his upper-Manhattan apartment, terrorized as he listened to 24/7 wailings of ambulances carrying critically ill to hospitals, wondering whether he’d be next. I see it as a city on the verge of pandemic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

In the introduction to my second column my editor wrote, “The emotions that run through this column starkly contrast with the hope he expresses in his first corona chronicle.”

I wonder what the lead will be this time?

In April I wrote how nations found new heroes in public health professionals leading non-partisan efforts.  In May I warned of political leaders pandering to impatient to reopen constituents through partisan attacks discrediting those same heroes. 

I pondered what would happen should politics trump science. I need ponder no longer

In Brazil, which has the second highest number of coronavirus deaths after the US, its President attempted to end coronavirus reporting, as if hoping to hide the consequences of his administration’s blasé attitude toward the pandemic. 

In the US, the government first abandoned its nationwide public health briefings, relegating US public health officials to soundbite moments on news networks, but now limits even that. Bizarrely, whether to wear or not to wear a mask has morphed into a battleground symbol of which Presidential candidate you support.  Even testing faces that same fate. As for the pandemic, it grinds on inexorably, exacting an ever-increasing toll when prudence preached by public health officials is ignored.

It seems much of the world is living in Alice in Wonderland times, where up is down and down is up.

Aside from wearing a mask and washing your hands, social distancing is a key preventative.  The amount of time you spend in close proximity to another directly influences your risk of infection. Being packed together multiplies your risk, especially when without masks. No (sane) person seems to question those principles.

The question those principles beg is, under what circumstances do the perceived benefits of being part of a large gathering outweigh the potential consequences to you and those you later might infect?

Greece is about to face that question in a head-on test of its commitment to continued strict enforcement of strong public health policies, even if enforcement costs the nation desperately needed tourist cash.  Tourists descending upon the country expecting to experience the same good times as in the past, will find very different rules in place. Stay tuned for next month’s take on how that’s playing out.

As for the rest of our Alice in Wonderland world, much of it will undoubtedly remain fixated on the coronavirus until a vaccine or remedy is available. 

And upon something else. 

Since my last column, a second event of worldwide historic implications has spread around the globe.  The name George Floyd is now known throughout the world, as demonstrators put aside their social distancing concerns in pursuit of social justice. 

Both events are of unique historic significance, taking quick root in popular culture as evidenced by how many global businesses are taking heed. Art, literature, film, fashion, and style are already boring down on the implications of it all…and how the power of one event will affect the impact of the other. 

It’s too soon to tell how each will play out, for there are far too many rapidly moving parts, but I do see one overriding common principle. Whether facing down a pandemic disease of the human body or of the body politic, it is only the elected and their electors who can change things for the better…or leave us to the worse. 

I think I’ll go look for the bear.  He’s more predictable these days than the rest of our world.

–Jeff

Jeff’s Upcoming Events.

Wednesday, July 1, 2020, at 5PM EDT

An International Crime Date with Tim Hallinan, Ragnar Jonasson, and Jeff Siger (moderated by Barbara Peters of Scottsdale’s Poisoned Pen Bookstore)

A Zoom/Facebook Live Event

So, Where Do We Go From Here?

Jeff—Saturday

No good news to report from Greece, except an expected increase in tourism.

No good news to report from the US, except an expected increase in late night TV material.

So, where does that leave an optimist?

Prayerful.

Well, at least summer is right around the corner.  Sorry, I meant spring. From the way the weather’s been, my mind lapsed into thinking we already were deep into spring. 

Whoops, I better be careful.  No reason to rile up climate change deniers into thinking I’m suggesting something untoward is happening to our planet by our own hand.  Then again, they should rest easy, because the North Koreans seem hell bent on making concerns over indirect man-made threats to the elimination of our species moot.

Pause.  I don’t even want to think about how our nation is planning to address that little situation…and by “little” I’m referring to the guy in charge over there.

Hopefully, in more than 140 characters.

Speaking of creative writing, I’m jumping into writing a new book, and the going is slow.  Hard to concentrate on writing fiction when the reality of each day hypnotically carries us further off into the incomprehensible.

Yet I’m trying.  And shall succeed (remember the prayerful part :)).

I’m pretty sure most writers would agree that what keeps us going through these questioning moments (not writer’s block) is simply this: a sense of duty to our fans.  Not grand advances (?), thoughts of awards, or the lure of fame, but knowing there are folks out there who genuinely appreciate what we write.  

They fire us up.

I know, because today I received an email from a fan (a Scot no less) living in Greece with her Texan husband. Modesty restrains me from repeating her much appreciated words, but one line struck me as particularly apropos for my current state of mind.

“We like to imagine you typing away, perhaps in Greece, perhaps in New York, but typing away wherever you might be.”

And so I shall type away as requested, happily putting reality behind me, and moving on into a fictional world where I can be more assured of the outcome of each passing day.

Time to get back to work.

—Jeff

Have a Good Month, World

Jeff—Saturday

Kalo Mina.

That’s how to wish someone a “good month” in Greek, and this being the 1^st of October it’s the appropriate time to offer such a greeting. Some might think with things as difficult as they are in Greece—and believe me they are—offering good wishes for such a limited period is a bit stingy, but such a limited time offer strikes me as consistent with about how far ahead government planning seems to extend over what to do next in wrestling with Greece’s Great Depression crisis.

There is an adage in writing fiction that’s admired by we seat of the pants writers (who distain outlines) for comparing our style of writing to driving a car at night: You need not see the entire road to reach your destination, just following your headlights will get you there.

That works for fiction writers just fine, but I’m not so sure I’d recommend it to a government in the dark running so close to the edge of a cliff.  Some longer term planning, together with a peek or so at a map—and every so often asking someone familiar with the territory for directions—might prove a safer way to go.  Though if you’re trying to write a horror story…

Then again, who am I to question the wisdom of a foreign nation’s leadership?  After all, we have our hands full with our own back here in the good old US of A.

Indeed, from our television networks’ ratings driven news coverage there’s virtually nothing happening anywhere in the world as significant as our elections. Yes, mention is made of events that arise to Hitleresque stature, but only as a tease for returning to the next round of (non) presidential prater.

It’s as if we expect the rest of the world to go on hold while we conclude our three-year cycle of Presidential elections. Make that four-year, because candidates are already positioning to run in 2020. 

Question: If 20-20 vision means perfect vision, does 20-16 mean cockeyed?

Just asking.

Personally, I think this campaign is doing a tremendous service for the average American citizen by providing free cardiac stress tests simply by turning on a TV.  Pick a news channel, any channel, and I can assure you that within moments you’ll find some report or commentator testing your blood pressure. 

It’s also helped me to work on my primal scream.

AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Kalo mina.

—Jeff