Hop's Thoughts

This little experiment in self-therapy, humor, and at times, maybe, some thought-provoking banter, has run its course. I write less, struggle with it more, and due to my banishment from Twitter, I'm read and commented on by far fewer people. While most of it was for me, it was nice to get feedback from strangers and occasionally from those I know. I thank the handful of people who read this, even more, those who appreciated my words, even (and especially) when they disagreed. I need another outlet and will look to find one. I realize algorithms have made repetitive posts difficult to highlight on social media, but I do still feel the need to engage, even if it's merely one step above yelling in the mirror. I may from time to time throw out my movie list, because I keep it on here, but that's about it.  After eleven years and over fifteen-hundred blogs, my thoughts will for the most part stay within. Thanks to the few, very few, who made me think and feel, and hopefully some

This was a Facebook post I just wrote. Aren't you glad we're not friends on Facebook? Get a Snickers if you choose to read. Then scream in the mirror, because you disagree with me. Look for a meme to prove me wrong. I spent the morning screaming at a Goya can for being filled with hypocritical beans and for supporting a candidate who hates them. Then I started a boycott of Ben & Jerry's because they support an old white man from Vermont who is so detached from reality when it comes to systemic racism, he can't get out of his own way. I then started thinking back to every business owner I've ever known and how many times they said something I disagreed with ideologically. I then thought about their employees and how some played along for job security, but those who disagreed were generally silent. Remember, silence gives power to the oppressor, so who is worse, the owner, those who agree, or those who stand silently? I then thought about all my friends who have u

It's pretty crazy when I think about it. No March Madness. No Opening Day. No Masters. No NBA or NHL Playoffs. For others, there were personal losses. Senior Seasons, gone! A culmination of a lifetime of practice for one last moment of glory, whether at the lowest high school or highest college levels. Gone! For me, sports have always been my passion, Along with cinema, sports has given me the escape from reality, no matter how bad things have been. I've probably had more ferocious debates with Yankees fans, defending my beloved Boston Red Sox, than I have about any other topic on this Earth. It's true love. In some ways, as unconditional as it gets, as I will stick up for anyone in the uniform, no matter how good or how bad, as long as it pertains to my team. Spring always brought hope. Everything else in sports is just a distraction, while baseball has always been the excuse to shut out the world. From April until the end of October, it's always been about baseball. 

Recently, I've seen another wave of "friends" leaving me, while I've also lost my desire to continue to call some others the word. I've reached a point, where I find myself in a personal struggle to defend their bigotry or misogyny as them simply being funny. It's not funny. It's also, not just come to me, but made me very aware, that my own condemnation of some while giving others a free pass, is the very root of our system's failure.  A few months ago, I was talking to someone who told me how smart they were. They were having issues with some work they were doing and exclaimed "And I'm really fucking smart.  I wonder how dumb people are handling this." It immediately struck me that this kind of comment not only is all too common, but usually contradicts reality. I immediately thought of the Dunning-Kruger study where people of low intelligence have a much greater view of their own intellect, while people with high IQs tend to downplay t

In a little less than 17 hours, I'll be 50. I'm about as excited as I was when I turned 43, 36, and 22. I refuse to call into cliches and catchphrases, but the actual milestone of being alive for five decades isn't something I really think about. My 40th birthday turned into a big party, and while unexpected, and very much appreciated, I went to work the following day and nothing much had changed. My 30th was highlighted by a chorus of singing children all throughout the day. My 20th was spent as a cornerman at a "foxy boxing" event. I guess there's some growth to be seen, but maybe I'll wait until after I'm officially 50 to reflect on that. Here are just some things I've thought about during the week leading up to my half-century milestone. A good friend used to have a sign hung up in his camp cabin that said "Cleanliness IS Godliness." It took me about 15 years, but I now agree. Neatness is not my forte, but cleanliness, both personal a

This will be short, I promise. Yesterday, one of life's minor, yet truly frustrating things happened. A simple comment. One line, telling me to be aware of something. I nodded, politely, then went back to what I was doing. So why the frustration? Why the anger? Why the dopey blog? There are few things in this world that grate on me more than when a person, oblivious to all that is around them, finally takes notice and decides to give you a few words of wisdom about something you're keenly aware of 24/7/365. The comment, while good in nature, I assume, shows that the person making it is painfully unaware, not only of her own surroundings, but about who I am as a person. The smile, or smirk, and the feeling of accomplishment and false sincerity, was only made more annoying by the fact that the comment was made, not only after I detailed my awareness, but after she ignored a very obvious fact. It was further made fruitless, in the fact she was too lazy to walk down the stairs to t

Heat, humidity, thunderstorms.  Rinse and repeat. Things are not back to normal, although I do have some "work," coming my way. Pride Month overshadowed by Black Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter must incorporate Pride Month more. Golf and Nascar are all that exist in sports.  Oh yeah, and cornhole. Corona has taken a back seat to social justice.  Timing is everything. Fear has subsided.  We're fools not to see the writing on the wall. Tiny houses no longer interest me the way they did. Land interests me.  Cats, dogs, turtles, birds, groundhogs, foxes, and chipmunks interest me. People haven't changed. Sigh. Trump 2020 is becoming a reality.  The blue wave has turned into a ripple.  I see it on social media and hear it within sincere conversations. "What happened to us?" Nothing happened. This is who we are and who we are destined to be, without change. Not change in leadership, but in philosophy. Good parents praising their graduates.  Remember when your par

We all know those people who live in Home Goods or Marshall's, buying every gadget one could possibly imagine to clean. Most of us find many of them superfluous, knowing a little elbow grease works a lot better than the As-Seen-On-TV Swiffer or vacuum. I always find great irony when one goes to use one of these items and needs to wipe the dust off first. I realize, we're a lazy society and being that we never need to fear a malaria outbreak or some other insect involved disease, but how do people reach adulthood without the common knowledge of how things work. How does someone not know that mosquito netting only works if it's closed? How does someone not know the garbage and recycling doesn't magically disappear every few days? How does someone not know that welcome mats actually serve the purpose of wiping dirt off, so you can then take your shoes off before  entering the house? Drains: They aren't self-cleaning! Washing dirty hands often requires cleaning a dirty

During the 2016 election cycle, I was often called intolerant for not agreeing with my friends' xenophobic outbursts. The irony, of course, is it was the angered party's sincere feeling that White America had suddenly become oppressed. I lost friends, received death threats, and had many people convinced I could not see their views, simply because I defended a woman and the rights of people who looked and lived in a manner that was different from myself. The crazy part of being intolerant was that the people screaming it lived the exact same lives I did, yet I felt no burden at all. The Intolerance Paradox was a common theme four years ago. Today, we may need something new. The same privilege that creates racism, defines entire areas of the country, and is ignored and misunderstood by nearly two-thirds of this country, is also creating an odd paradox. At what point, do our freedom of speech without repercussions, our freedom of not having a fear of police retribution, and our c

Rayshard Brooks died on video. Three white guys discussing it.  One said, "Why'd he run?" Another said, "He stole a weapon and fired it at the officer." The third said, "How'd it get to that point?" "Did you see the video?" said one. I said that I had. "Did you see the entire video?" said the other I said that I had. "From the moment they pulled up and he was asleep in the drive-thru?" said the second. I admitted I had not, then found myself questioning my own judgment and assumptions. "Watch FOX News. It's on there." Immediately, I knew. Four hours later, I checked FOX News. I checked every news outlet. I still haven't found it. Then I watched and listened.  The narrative. The commentary. The blame. The excuse. I watched nearly two hours of videos. Three men. Two viewpoints. One video. All because of the news outlet they chose to watch.  THIS IS AMERICA!  When did we allow ourselves to stop believing

Racism is ignorance. Individual racism is willful ignorance, plus fear. Black people have been oppressed since the very day the slave ships brought them here. Systemic racism is a set of laws and standards put in to protect those who enslaved them. Slavery, at one time, was a form of currency, which depicted wealth.  Policing, in its earliest form, was a job given to poor White people to watch slaves/ Oppression was the system of policing that kept Black people from organizing. With organization comes power. The Second Amendment had more to do slave control than anything else. The Emancipation Proclamation freed slaves and created fear of retribution. Jim Crow Laws were enacted to create a society of "free" slaves. Without money, freedom actually weakened Black people's ability to organize. For nearly 100 years, Black people simply attempted to be viewed as human.  The Civil Rights Movement and the following Acts were simply appeasement and a voice. This right to vote and

Unlike most, I've pretty much enjoyed this reprieve from real life. While I hate that I've lost people to the virus and others have taken ill, I can't complain about my personal existence through this time. I have not been as fortunate as others when it comes to the financial bailout, but I have had enough money to get by. Much like before the virus, that's how I live my life. There is, however, frustration mounting. It is not coming out of boredom or an inability to live normally, but one borne out of personal failure. Self-reflection, mostly positive, has taken place daily during this hiatus from normalcy, but then George Floyd was murdered, spawning emotions I've felt often, but not like this. How many times have I said, "Enough is enough?" How often, weeks later, was I saying it again? Last night, I watched Ava DuVernay's 13th, a documentary on the 13th Amendment and its failure, due to a single loophole, which allowed slavery to continue, through

I was about six or seven lines in and the area had a brown-out. A transformer popped, as is the case a lot around here during the summer. I switched gears on what I was going to write about. Going to be hot today. Reminds me of Do The Right Thing. Timely. I was thinking about the protests last night. Metaphors and analogies. A sip of strong, black, iced coffee triggered these thoughts. I used to drink it with milk. I'd watch as the milked spread out in thin strands, expanding, eventually changing the main ingredient into something very different. Softer, less bitter, but, not coffee anymore. I view our opinions as to the milk, different varieties of creamer. A dilution of the product. I often wonder if people like coffee or the idea of coffee. Sweetened, almost pale, tasting nothing like the original product. The mass marketing of the two worst coffees you'll ever taste, praised by the same people who think they understand coffee. This is how I view our current climate. White p

This was actually a Facebook post, so you can pretty much understand why I'm as unsuccessful as a writer in real life as I am on this blog. Which by the way, I plan on ending very soon.  'It is not those who can inflict the most but those who can endure the most who will conquer.' Terence MacSwiney While I didn't necessarily agree with the film's portrayal of Bobby Sands and the obvious propaganda injected into the documentary, the fascinating parts of Bobby Sands: 66 Days was the juxtaposition of violence and non-violent protest happening simultaneously, as a means to an end. While the hunger strikes last days and the killing lasted four decades, one wonders which were truly more effective. The glamorous belief is the deaths of Sands, and others were far more effective than the bombings and killings. There's no doubt his election furthers this viewpoint. I'm fascinated by his story, as much for the man whose memory reached mythic proportions, but also for t

I often come back to this philosophical thought, that our entire lives are that damn Robert Frost poem. That all of our lives are decided by single moments. Moments where we, in an instant, must make a decision. These decisions often have but two choices and the chosen path creates a lifetime of results. These moments do not necessarily feel monumental at the time, but when we look back at our lives, whether it be a few months later or a few years, we come back to these decisions and see how they've affected us. I think about these things often, but what I don't think I've ever done, not a single time in my life is look back at how these events may have shaped another's future. These moments I speak of do not often involve others, so the initial thinking is, they only affect me. This, of course, is irrational and even selfish. I think about the recovering drug addict, their fight, their plight. The decision to take that one final hit, bump, injection, is completely on t

Have you ever been in a conversation, when suddenly the person you're speaking with starts adding so much detail and back story, you forget what the topic the conversation had begun with? Have you ever been in a conversation, then realize, you've spoken to this person may be one hundred times and they've never really asked you a question or asked a question that, with the exception of a simple yes or no, could be considered combative? What about those people who end their thought, leaving nothing more for you to add and making it impossible to segue into another topic? What about the people, who are so limited in their scope, they consistently bring up one of two, maybe three topics, and that's it. Their limitations are so narrow, you actually find yourself researching what they speak about in an effort to add to the back and forth, only to find out, they either have very little actual knowledge or they simply are regurgitating the first thing they saw when googling. Fi

I'm writing this with no knowledge of the truth. This is complete fiction based on my assumptions. I do not watch TV, rarely read circulars for stores other than supermarkets, and ignore most emails stating: Save up to 75%! I am consumerism's nightmare. I'm a minimalist out of necessity, but it's taught me that this is now my way. I love movies, but don't own a DVD player. I own no streaming subscriptions, but do have access to two, due to the kindness of family and friends. I love video games, but have not owned a system since my PS2, which I used much more as a DVD player than a game console. I have worn the same three pairs of sneakers for three, wait, can it be four years? I own five pairs of shorts, three pairs of sweats, two pairs of dress pants and some shirts. Two of which could be considered dress shirts. I no longer own a suit and own one tie from the dollar store. I have almost no furniture that is mine. A dresser and a bookshelf are all. I own one pair

Starting March 14th   * denotes napped at some point during the day or early evening Friday: 4.25 - total 4.25 Saturday 5.25 - total 9.5 Sunday 5.5 - total 15.0 Monday 3.0 - total 18.0 Tuesday 4.5 - total 22.5 Wednesday 3.25 - total 25.75 Thursday 5.5* - total 31.25 Week 2 Friday 3.75 - total 35.0 Saturday 5.5* - total 40.5 Sunday 6.0* - total 46.5 Monday 3.25* - total 49.75 Tuesday 6.25 - total 56.0 Wednesday 4.75 - 60.75 Thursday 5.0* - 65.75 Weekly Total 34.5 Week 3 Friday 4.75 - 70.5 Saturday 4.5* - 75.0 Sunday 5.25 - 80.25 Monday 5.0* - 85.25 Tuesday 6.25 - 91.5 Wednesday 3.00 - 94.5 Thursday 6.75* -101.25 Weekly Total 35.5 Week 4 Friday 6.0* - 107.25 Saturday 4.5* - 111.75 Sunday 5.25 - 117.0 Monday 4.25 - 121.25 Tuesday 4.75 - 126.0 Wednesday 5.75 - 131.75 Thursday 4.75 - 136.5 Weekly Total 35.25 Week 5 Friday 5.25* - 141.75 Saturday 7.25* - 149.0 (2.25-hour nap) Sunday 4.25 - 153.25 Monday 5.25 - 158.5 Tuesday 5.5* - 164.0 Wednesday 6.0 - 1

Over the last few weeks, many of us have been either busier than usual or placed into a much less stressful daily routine. While I am sure there are some out there, very few are living their lives, as is, barely feeling the discord they've had cast upon them. For me, I view it as I would retirement. Barely enough money to get by, but fewer expenses. I would imagine there would be more socializing, but many retirees spend much of their time alone, reflecting on the lives they've lived. During this time, for me, I've thought long and hard about my past, present and the fact that when this is over, with certainty, my time on this Earth will be shorter than the time before this virus. My upcoming milestone birthday has much to do with this thought pattern as well. It has me thinking, and asking, very simple questions.  I wonder, what would most people say? When you put on that mask, who are you putting it on for?  Are you strong enough to die alone? Are you thankful

I'm giving myself six minutes. The heat that comes with the sun seems to be here to stay, although the thermal and the comforter were definitely needed last night. The open window was nice, albeit my favorite dog did cause me a few hours of sleep. A human's fault, of course. Swag is changing with the rise and fall of the sun, as am I. Those around me, still childish, go by their alarms. Farmers don't use alarms. Cat's humans may be a type of farmer. We plow the litter. Ten the "crops," and always make sure the animals are comfortable and healthy. I can't seem to concentrate the last two days. I'm overcome by odd thoughts. Ones that contradict who I am. Some, pushing me to examine choices I've yet to make. Even now, a simple writing task, timed, I pause. Tik Tok. Not the app. I watch short videos recently, not long movies. I miss normalcy, but not the one COVID-19 has stolen, but comfort. Comfort to make dinner and eat when I please. Comfort to wa

I love watching people, especially now. Here's a bit of what I've seen. Why do adults lie about how much they sleep at night? Most adults I know sleep between 7-8 hours. Many, especially those who deem themselves as "busy," sleep 9-10 hours. I sleep about 5 hours a night. Do you know how much I'd brag if I slept 6 hours a night? Let alone 7-10? Why do so many adults lower their sleep totals? They don't even count naps as sleep. They should wear their slumber numbers like a badge of honor. We are told to wipe down our groceries, just to be safe. So why do people pull their masks down to speak, on speakerphone, on their phones while shopping? Why are their phones even in the open air in enclosed spaces? Have they not read the studies about our phones being filthy, before this?  Similar to the unscientific stages of grief, we're seeing so much anger and denial, and so very little understanding and acceptance. It makes one wonder how our friends, co

As the clock struck midnight, today marks the countdown of 50 days until my 50th birthday. While I am hardly concerned with my increasing age in terms of milestones, I do realize it's considered a big one. The current state of the universe may cancel any chances of people traveling hundreds of miles to honk their horns in my honor, but this world has turned virtual. I am sure I can get some virtual honks, virtual hugs, and virtual shots of the finest spirits. How will I celebrate? I'm not sure. I used to have a joke, which I will not share, because it centers on something I am very serious about. Let's just say, 50 was the goal. Now, with full knowledge of my own grandmother reaching centenarian status, my one wish is that I never come close to another 50. Most people believe I was a curmudgeon at 30, so does the world really need another 50 years of my views and opinions? So what should I do to assist in this countdown?  I own no old pictures of myself or my family, but

In casual conversation, it's fine, at times, to start a sentence with "So," but understand that the listener, if intelligent, immediately believes you're about to either make up a story or give a detailed, and unnecessary back story. If used once within a conversation, I assume it will go unnoticed, but when it begins every sentence, it becomes a mental hurdle for those in attendance. While So  is bad, there's almost nothing quite like the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of "Yeah, So..." It's as if the speaker is putting mammoth importance onto the beginning of something while sounding like a child in the playground. Little kids, smile, smirk, and Like, So their ways into stories about how their clothes got dirty or they broke their friend's toy, and we smile, pat them on the head and try not to laugh as we discipline them. Adults, should never, ever, start a sentence the same way a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. Obviously,

The season is finally actually changing. Usually, this is a positive sign of things to come. Children outdoors running, laughing, playing. We'll see some of this, but isolated to their own front yards. I feel for those in inner cities as it's quite obvious their lives are much less free. Isn't it ironic how many people with great financial wealth are such indoors, while the poor are running free in the fields? Yes, I'm well aware that the reverse is true in an urban area, so excuse my generalization of America. I think about how all of this is begging for our perspective. I look back to this time ten years ago. The nation consumed by the two-part series finale of Lost . Now, the entire country feels as if we've been thrown into an alternate universe. Some have been philosophical, some have been angry, and much like the show, we seem to be choosing alliances and lashing out at those who we blame. It was a TV show, this is not, but much like the ending of that telev

Much of the talk, at least on social media, is the children. The poor seniors missing out on their final days with the friends, their sports, their academics, and of course their graduation. This is important in the life of a 17-year-old, but should not be revered in the memories of adults as "the best days of our lives." Those are ahead of them. These are the days of trying to fit in, experiment, and have fun when everyone seems to consumed with their lives or too distracted by their own to notice. It's a time of incredible bullying, severe stress, and the realization life is going to get incredibly complicated, because now, the expectations come from everywhere. High school, in the way it's thought of doing, has taught them nothing that prison wouldn't have. Find the right clique. What I have been thinking about is the real concern. Education. It's the one commonality we all have, aside from being born from mothers, yet it's the least important topic w

Over the last two months, we've changed our way of living. We've changed our social behavior, our daily routines, and how we view the world. I still worry we've ignored the most important part of this experience and that is, how we view ourselves. So many of us try to find our cliched niche. When this started, I commented on how introverts seemed so much more threatened by isolation than extroverts. I still believe this. Forcing someone to do anything they view as a choice is burdensome, but forcing them to do something they feel defines them, takes away their identity. The problem with all of this is that we viewed it as sudden. As a whole, we ignored the rest of the world and thought ourselves above "third world" strategies. Now, we're the most infected group on the planet. And yes, we still fight logic.  Sixty days is a long time within the context of an entire year. If spread out, it would be done once every six days. The continuity is what is getting u

Half capacity seems pretty appealing right now. I know, based on my own living situation, I'd take that in a heartbeat. The walls seem a little closer together. The sounds of snores, sighs, and nervous cackles tend to echo to the point of pain. The dirty dishes piling up, the hair on the ground, and the dried mud that my bare feet find seem more plentiful. As I try to concentrate on my own emotional stability, I watch as someone else, who was suspect to begin with, starts to turn into something I've seen before. Yet this is narcissistic, almost entitled. The mess is not a decaying mental state, but an announcement of presence. A need for acknowledgment where there is none, nor is it deserved. I do not take the bait and the filth intensifies. Transported, nature's dirt kicks up and somehow finds its way into my shoes. Tiny granite pebbles would feel like shards if not for the drying of my skin and the toughening of my soles. The other soul, the one with the U, is being teste

Yes, it's almost mid-May, and snow is on the ground and in the forecast. I've had a bit of a mental block the last few days, so I'm just going to hammer these keys for eight minutes. I feel myself moving right. There is something more appealing about doing and failing miserably than not doing anything at all. This doesn't have to mean only politics, but it's this current world we live in. Lethargy has taken hold. Even those I see who are working lake the ability to move at a normal pace. Complaining is the new "Hello." Asking how someone is, is now getting a long answer. I'm exhausted by the negativity. I'm surrounded by it and it's much more contagious than this virus. Maybe we should open up and let the real virus attack all those riddled with stress and anxiety, created by their own delusions of grandeur. Those narcissists sure are having a hard time these days. Nobody to recognize them. Most, so self-absorbed, they never realized they we

There must, of course, be some psychological study that proves or disproves this, but I'm going out on a very short limb here to say two things are absolute. 1. The ability to laugh at one's self is a sign of a great sense of humor. 2. The ability to laugh at one's self is a sign of confidence and self-esteem. It appears to be a no-brainer that anyone who can find humor in their own failures, mishaps, or minor accidents, is going to have this ability due to the fact they know this is not and will not be the norm. A certain amount of success is built on failure and I have a hard time imagining these failures could be looked upon with anger and resentment and then provide any sort of positive motivation. Not saying this is absolute, as we're all different, but the majority of us, simply couldn't hold grudges against ourselves and become functioning members of society. Right? Let's propose another scenario. Comedy itself. Recently, I watched a special with J