Humbled by a Squirrel Hole

I consider myself a pretty active person. I workout twice a week. I walk everyday, taking long strides. I once hiked Mount Diablo and Mount Tamalpais in my late 30s and early 40s.

I never broke a bone in my body. Until Friday.

I was done in by a squirrel hole in Sacramento's Miller Park.

I was going to my agency picnic there. After I parked, I was walking with my camp chair and bag lunch to the picnic site when my right foot caught on something. I fell on the heels of my hands and my knees.

Some of my coworkers came to help me to my feet and carry my stuff. I looked down to see a hole covered by dried grass and leaves.

When I arrived at the picnic site, my right foot swelled to the size of Sasquatch. My boss got me a bag of ice to put on my foot. I didn't stay long at the picnic. I went home after maybe two hours.

Yesterday I went to Kaiser Medical Center in Walnut Creek to make sure no bones were broken. After my right foot received X-rays, my attending physician announced that I had a broken bone in my right foot and had to have a splint.

Long story short, I have a splint covered in bandages and a pair of crutches. Walking with crutches is counterintuitive. I have to put my weight on my hands, so the first few go-rounds were difficult.

Luckily (?), I am on vacation this week. I hadn't planned on going anywhere, and my injury ensured that I am staying put. I will spend this week cleaning and reading.

I prize my independence and living in Solano County. But during times when I injure myself or am ill, living solo can be, well, trying. Would I give up living here? Nah!

Writing Diva

The Debt Ceiling Agreement: Honey Badger Doesn’t Give a $#!+

This is what I get for having great expectations for the President of the United States: My hopes for change in this country dashed like a glass vase blithely nudged off a 10-story building.

As Paul Krugman of The New York Times wrote today, President Barack Obama surrendered to the House Republicans on the debt ceiling. According to the Times, the tentative agreement, which should go to a vote anytime now, calls for an estimated $2.1 trillion in spending cuts over 10 years, as well as a new Congressional committee to recommend a deficit-reduction proposal by Thanksgiving and a two-step increase in the debt ceiling.

By not including any closing of tax loopholes for large corporations and the wealthy, Obama, in my humble opinion, capitulated to House Speaker John Boehner (if his name were mispronounced, it would sound like a porn star moniker) and the Tea Party. Even if this bipartisan committee met to hammer out a proposal, half of its members would be Republicans who, more likely than not, signed a no-tax pledge drafted by Grover Norquist of the Americans for Tax Reform.

So, this is a short open letter to President Obama:

Mr. President, you needed to channel some honey badger.

I imagine an eyebrow rising as you say, “Excuse me?”

You haven’t seen the honey badger video narrated by some guy named Randall? The message is that the honey badger doesn’t give a $#!+ about its opponents, whether they be black cobras, bees, jackals, even crocodiles. The honey badger is crazy enough to attack and eat them. It can get stung by bees or bitten by poisonous snakes, but like a Timex, it keeps on ticking.

Sometimes the only way to deal with crazy people is to act crazy. I realize that as a Harvard-educated former constitutional law professor, that might be a stretch for you. But these are crazy times, and you’re dealing with unyielding ideologues who refuse to see the big picture. You had your chance to unilaterally raise the debt ceiling, citing the 14th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. But you insisted that was not on the table. That should have been your trump card, but noooo!

I know you had to save the country from defaulting on its debts. However, as you said, the process was messy, and the result unpalatable. I don’t see change happening in your first term, and, frankly, as much as I still support you, you will be lucky to get a second term. Just sayin’.

P.S.: Next time, try channeling some honey badger.

Writing Diva