The "Idle Janie" Journal - Days 36 through 40
Photo credit: David Bryan, New York, New York June 2017
R.I.P. My little China Cat
The “Idle Janie” Journal - Day 36
“Veticare For All”
Yesterday, I had to take my favorite little furry friend Althea to the vet for a dental cleaning. Due to early onset gum disease, they ended up extracting three of her teeth, which wasn’t originally planned. They then, therefore, ended up extracting more money out of my bank account as well. Total cost was almost $1400.
As of July 1st, I am now out of a job due to this pandemic. I also have had issues with my own gums over the past few years. In June, my last month of work, I went to the dentist to get one last cleaning on the books before my insurance ran out. I was supposed to go back a week later for a “deep cleaning” to deal with the underlying gum issue — which was obviously recommended by my dentist, since my insurance was going to expire.
Faced with financial hardship, I literally had to choose between my dental needs and Althea’s. I opted for her. She is my life.
Coming home with a happy cat (probably due to some fun paid meds, plus the fact that those rotten teeth are no longer presently causing pain), I couldn’t help but think to myself: I really can’t afford this right now. Yes, there is a payment plan in place, and I can pay it off over the next 6 months with no interest. However, with no job to speak of, this is going to stress me out, and soon.
I understand that our politicians, and our business systems, and our capitalist structure is set up such that there are “haves” and “have nots.” And this applies not only to our bank accounts, but also to our health insurance coverage.
According to PBS, “About 44 million people in this country have no health insurance, and another 38 million have inadequate health insurance.” I guess add to that, that it has been reported that 5.4 million more Americans have lost their health insurance this year, due to the economic shutdown.
We really need Medicare for all, or single-payer insurance, or whatever you want to call it. How ridiculous that in the wealthiest country in the world, health care is directly tied to having a job — and now so many millions of people have lost their jobs through no fault of their own (or, really, their employers) due to this pandemic. But, we know how “the system” is setup, and it is what it is. I’ll leave this conversation to others much more knowledgeable than me, who can better bring up a balanced discussion on this issue.
Here’s the thing, though: If we can’t agree that all Americans -- or at the very least their children -- should have equal access to health care, can we at least come up with some kind of national program that will cover the costs related to pet care? These animals are our lives. They are our loves. And one simply should NOT have to automatically assume a heavy financial burden for 10-15 years because they chose to rescue a poor stray who would otherwise be euthanized. I’m not saying we need socialism. And I’m not trying to devalue the work of veterinarians, or suggest they settle for less compensation. What I am saying is that every time a person goes to a shelter to adopt a furry friend — a friendship that yields positive mental health benefits for the adoptor, and literally saves the life of the adoptee — that it shouldn’t be an automatic financial death sentence.
Before my current crop of cats, I had two diabetic feline sisters. These two ended up in my care after a roommate rescued a pregnant stray literally off of the street. We took her to the vet, had her nursed back to health, and she gave birth in our bathtub to six wonderful little ones — two of whom I eventually ended up with. They both over time developed diabetes, which cost me an arm and a leg. I would basically have NO debt to my name right now had I simply shipped them off to the shelter. But they gave me so much love, joy, and happiness that, I guess, it was well worth it. But what if I hadn’t had the monetary means to cover their care? They would have suffered endlessly and needlessly, or else I would have had to just get rid of them. That is a terrible option, and in no way humane.
We need to find some way for veterinary care to be low cost or free in this country. I can’t really afford the bill I was issued yesterday, but I had no real choice. I would be worthless and miserable without Miss Althea.
Maybe someone like Jeff Bezos can finally step up and do something worthwhile with the wads of cash he is wallowing in. Stop being so selfish, and give something back to society. If you can’t put a price on a human life, maybe you can help save the animals. Sarah McLaughlin would write and sing songs of thanks for you!
Methinks THAT should be your legacy, instead of your bloated bank account.
Photo credit: David Bryan, New York, New York June 2020
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Thanks for reading. If you like what you read, and want to support my fledgeling career as a writer and musician, you can drop a few bucks in the virtual tip jar. It all adds up!
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Photo credit: David Bryan, Avignon, France October 2017
The “Idle Janie” Journal - Day 37
“The Night The Grim Reaper Came To Town”
David Bryan ©2020
Based on “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down”
The Band
Backup Vocals and Music & Video Editing
Kitty McTeague
This song is a political parody of an old rock classic meant for instructional/educational purposes only. It is in no way meant as disrespect to the late Herman Cain. Youtube video link at bottom.
America, please stop being so self-centered, and wear a damn mask. We’re all in this together.
Lyrics:
Herman Cain is the name
And I jumped on the no-mask train
It was June 2020 on the
18th when the president came*
All the way from DC to Tulsa
Saying the coronavirus was a hoax-a
At the rally, masks ain’t mandatory
But now you know I’m singing a different story
The night the grim reaper came to town
I was lying in a hospital bed
The night the grim reaper came to town
I had a ventilator stuck in my head … When he took my
Li li li li li life
Li li li li li li li lifeeeeee
Back in early April
The democrats started to scream
But it was proved it was all unwarranted
By facebook experts with catchy memes
Andrew Cuomo blew it out of proportion
we're tired of the media's continued distortion
The people here, they’re all fed up
We ain’t even afraid to drink from the very same cup … But now it’s the
night the grim reaper came to town
How the hell did this happen
The night the grim reaper came to town
My constituents are no longer clappin … Cause he took my
Li li li li li life
Li li li li li li li lifeeeeee
So take heed all you doubters out there
Who think it’s all about control
I thought the same way you did
Now they’re gonna bury me in a hole
I didn’t believe what Fauci said
The virus wouldn’t come to the states that are red
It doesn’t matter what happens in New York City
The folks in Oklahoma won’t catch it, we’re much too gritty … But now it’s the
night the grim reaper came to town
I admit I was wrong
The night the grim reaper came to town
I lay here singing my final song . . . Then he took my
Li li li li li life
Li li li li li li li lifeeeeee
* Just pointing out that I got the date wrong and realize that. The 20th would have worked musically, but this error was discovered after much too much editing had already occurred. 
Thanks for reading. If you like what you read, and want to support my fledgeling career as a writer and musician, you can drop a few bucks in the virtual tip jar. It all adds up!
Photo credit: David Bryan, Pont du Gard, France October 2017
The “Idle Janie” Journal - Day 38
“The ‘Garden State’ of Affairs”
From my probably uninformed position, I’d say that we are possibly facing problems yet to even be discovered in this crumbling country. I say “uninformed” because, honestly, I do NOT have all the facts or answers. As I said a few days ago, there are so many sources of news out there, and it has all been branded “fake,” that it’s hard to know what’s true and what’s not. And, honestly, given the outright ridiculousness of some of the headlines, it’s even getting hard to tell which way is up and which way is down.
SO - from said “uninformed” perspective, my feeling is that our current administration has so abjectly failed this country on so many levels, that we’re likely only seeing the tip of the iceberg. And no, I’m not talking about the coronavirus. (I mean, why? What’s the point? People are either taking it seriously or they’re not. I’m obviously not going to change anyone’s mind. Neither is anyone else. People who support this president will literally bend over backwards in defense of him. No matter what he does. No matter what he says.)
What I am talking about is latches. Simple, plastic latches.
Those who have seen the movie “Garden State” will know what I’m talking about. For those who haven’t: in a nutshell, the plot revolves around the protagonist who has to return to NJ from Hollywood, to attend his mother’s funeral. You see, she had been a quadriplegic most of his life, due to an accident. In the film, he speaks about how she struggled with depression - that she was just “always sad.” And it made him so angry that she was so sad all the time. So, one day, as a very young boy, he pushes her in a fit of anger and youthful frustration. It just so happens, though, that at that very moment, the latch that holds the dishwasher closed had malfunctioned. So the dishwasher door had fallen open, and when he pushes her, she trips over this door and bumps her head on the counter — which leads to that physical handicap which is with her through the rest of her life.
At one point in the movie, this lead character is telling another about this incident. And he says something like “it’s amazing how my entire life was changed because of a 2-inch piece of plastic.” That little latch completely altered the course of his story. (Great movie — by the way — if you’ve never seen it. I highly recommend watching it!)
With our current completely clueless administration, I have to wonder if we are looking at a looming latch issue. Again — I’m not so super knowledgable about every single detail related to what has gone on with this administration. It’s honestly kinda hard to keep up. But is seems like over the last four years, there have been all kinds of headlines related to trade and tariff tiffs, hastily made mandates, bungled business decisions, torn up treaties, working relationships walked away from, unilateral undoing of unions, and grand exits from all organizations we’ve previously participated in. Basically, the Nepotistic Nation of Trump and its Congress of Cronies have waged a war on the rest of the world, and we have waded deeper and deeper into the waters of individualism, insularity, and isolation.
So, back to the latch. With so many (I’ve lost count) “Acting Heads” at the helm of just about everything — with countless “Temporary Directors” doing Trump’s bidding — with people in positions of power who know literally nothing about what they are in charge of — and with therefore little accountability even to Congress (who, as I understand, should normally have confirmed or appointed or approved all the folks in these positions), I am started to get worried about SUPPLY CHAINS.
Vis-a-vis this virus running rampant, with nary a sense of care or concern from our “leaders,” you gotta start wondering about the latches. Where do they come from? Who makes them? Was that contract renewed? Are the current ones in workable condition? Do we have a replacement supply ready?
And when I say “latches,” I mean EVERY LITTLE PIECE OF EQUIPMENT ACROSS THE ENTIRE COUNTRY THAT IS PART OF A WIDE ARRAY OF COGS IN AN INCREDIBLY COMPLICATED MACHINE THAT SUPPORTS THE SUPPLY CHAINS THAT BRING OUR FOOD AND WATER TO US EVERY DAY.
To name just a few:
Boxes. I once worked in a grocery store. All items are shipped in boxes. What if one day we realize “OH SHIT THE WHOLE COUNTRY IS OUT OF BOXES. WHO THE HELL WAS SUPPOSED TO ORDER THOSE???”
Tires. Do we still make tires in America? (Do we still make ANYTHING in America???) If those are part of a nationwide contract with some foreign country that we are or will soon be cut off from, then will we just find ourselves with a shortage at some point? (I mean, it already happened just in the last 6 months with PPE and frikkin COINS of all things!) No tires = no food transport.
Water plant filtration systems. There’s some complicated stuff going on to get that water to magically materialize at the touch of a faucet in our little fairy tale existence. (I mean, come on. You KNOW you take it for granted. We all do!) What part of this is handled or overseen by the national government, or any contacts or contracts they might be responsible for?
Electricity. Again, incredibly complex infrastructure that stretches nationwide. Is there ONE type of wire or screw or nut or washer or hinge or WHATEVER that ALL power stations require, which might just vanish from the storehouses?
I’ll admit I might be showing some ignorance with all these questions, as I simply don’t know how all of this stuff is safely delivered to us. Just being transparent, here. And hoping that someone at the top won’t “blow it” so that we end up in the dark ages again. Or without any food.
Oh, speaking of food, as I asked in an earlier post: HAS ANYONE CHECKED THE NATIONAL STOCKPILE OF MRE’S (MEALS-READY-TO-EAT)????
Whatever we run out of, I guess it’ll all be Obama’s fault, since he didn’t take care of all this before he left office.
Such a terrible man! (And her emails!!!!!)
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Thanks for reading. If you like what you read, and want to support my fledgeling career as a writer and musician, you can drop a few bucks in the virtual tip jar. It all adds up!
Venmo: @David-Bryan10026
Photo credit: David Bryan, Beaufort, North Carolina February 2018
The “Idle Janie” Journal - Day 39
“Alphabetically Sick”
I’m sick of his arrogance.
I’m sick of his asinine off-script remarks.
I’m sick of his betrayals of the American people.
I’m sick of him breaking treaties with good countries.
I’m sick of his constant cluelessness.
I’m sick of his corporate cronyism.
I’m sick of his destruction of the fundamental principles of democracy.
I’m sick of his disgusting face.
I’m sick of his egregious innumerable lies.
I’m sick of his environmental degradation and desecration.
I’m sick of his family.
I’m sick of his flailing party, which has failed to stand up to him.
I’m sick of his golfing.
I’m sick of his grifting.
I’m sick of his hatred of and undermining of BIPOC.
I’m sick of his headlines.
I’m sick of him insulting intelligent world leaders.
I’m sick of his irritating name.
I’m sick of his jaded worldview.
I’m sick of his jarring claims.
I’m sick of him killing innocent animals with ridiculous environmental policies.
I’m sick of his KKK sympathizing.
I’m sick of his lack of understanding of basic grammar.
I’m sick of his lame ass attempts at humor.
I’m sick of his making an absolute mockery of Christianity.
I’m sick of his minotaur stance.
I’m sick of his narcissism.
I’m sick of his nepotism.
I’m sick of his obvious attempts to rig the upcoming election.
I’m sick of his outright assault on the Constitution.
I’m sick of his petty squabbles with anyone who opposes him.
I’m sick of him praising dictators.
I’m sick of his quack appointments to extremely important positions.
I’m sick of his questionable morals.
I’m sick of his rampant racism.
I’m sick of his reversal of every single Obama policy done just in spite.
I’m sick of his speeches.
I’m sick of his sycophants.
I’m sick of him trying to stack the courts with fascist judges.
I’m sick of him turning important press conferences into personal rallies.
I’m sick of his unapologetic opportunism.
I’m sick of him using songs for campaigning without asking artists’ permission.
I’m sick of his violent tactics against our own citizens.
I’m sick of his voice.
I’m sick of his wealthy donors making out like bandits during a pandemic.
I’m sick of his weekly “Friday night surprises”
I’m sick of his xenophobia.
I’m sick of his x-rated language used with impunity.
I’m sick of his years and years of blatant misogyny.
I’m sick of his yokelish mispronunciation of basic English words.
I’m sick of his zealotry.
I’m sick of his zombie followers.
Christ, I’m even sick of the color orange.
What did orange ever do to deserve this?
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Thanks for reading. If you like what you read, and want to support my fledgeling career as a writer and musician, you can drop a few bucks in the virtual tip jar. It all adds up!
Venmo: @David-Bryan10026
Paypal: paypal.me/davidbryanandfriends
🌍
Photo credit: David Bryan, Barcelona, Spain October 2017
The “Idle Janie” Journal - Day 40
“Grateful Dead Theology - An Excerpt”
25 years ago today, the world shook with the death of Jerry Garcia, lead guitarist of the Grateful Dead. It is said that “everyone knows a deadhead.” So, even if the world didn’t shake for YOU on that day, it definitely shook for someone you are acquainted with, and probably even someone relatively close to you.
In honor of his passing, today’s entry is an except (the “Afterword”) from my master’s thesis which I wrote at Union Theological Seminary. This thesis received the highest possible mark of “credit with distinction,” and portions of this paper have appeared in two separate publications. I don’t say this to brag; I say it to share with you that, whatever my take on this subject was 18 years ago, that it was apparently interesting enough to be shared farther and wider than just as a rote exercise in academic writing.
I still to this day can’t understand how the death of some guy I’ve never met in person can still affect me so deeply and personally 25 years after the fact. I guess maybe Christianity makes more sense to me in light of this phenomenon.
We miss you, Jerry. Thank you for all that you gave to this world. Your name is obviously going to live on through the ages, at least until we blow up this stupid little planet. RIP.
Afterword from “Constructing Terrapin Station: Academic Musings on Death, Religious Experience, and an Incipient Grateful Dead Theology,” ©2002:
It is doubtful that when this group of musicians first got together, they had any idea that someday their fans would have encountered the magic to the extent that such magic would elicit a theological reflection about the entire phenomenon. However, perhaps the divine source, for which the music serves as a means of communication, did know that such theology might be produced. Did the band realize the power of the magic, as the manifestation of the divine, at some point during their three decades of performing together? Robert Hunter offers one possible answer:
“The Dead is the logical extension of a meeting of energies [and] there was no way that thing wasn’t going to happen. . . . If it hadn’t been this Grateful Dead, it would have been another and if not that one, another yet. . . . There was a question asked in the sixties which demanded an answer and those who demanded to answer naturally came together and recognized one another.”
By this account, the musicians, at some point, had some clue about what was occurring. Perhaps this clue explains songs such as “Terrapin Station.” It — whatever it is — is now demanding that this station be constructed: that a foundation be laid, and that a metaphorical team of architects, construction workers, designers, and those with the philanthropic means to do so work together in and as a community to achieve such a dream. The dream — the station itself — is a place where everyone who seeks shelter, within the community of the Grateful Dead, can find such shelter. It becomes a metaphor for the divine source, which can bring comfort, peace, smiles, laughter, tears of joy, an arena for dance, and an overall good time to all who seek on its behalf.
Perhaps the station, as hypothesized in the foreword, is death itself. Perhaps Pigpen, Keith, Brent, and Jerry are tuning their instruments. Bill Graham has scheduled the show; Rex Jackson is helping move the equipment. And perhaps, just perhaps, there are countless Deadheads already there, those who have already ‘died.’ They might already be listening to the music play. Perhaps this concert is eternal. Or, as with the not-visible parts of the spectrum of life and death, perhaps this concert also comes to an end, though to be followed by subsequent concerts. The band members desire your presence there. They are ready for a Grateful Dead family reunion — each person who dies rejoins the family, and goes to the concert on the next night. They are all there, under the protective shell of Terrapin Station, waiting for you to die.
If, after dying, each person goes to a place that represents what was most important in his or her life, then Deadheads will go to Terrapin Station: a place where there is a Dead concert every night. If this is the case — and we can at least hope that this is the case — then every Deadhead will surely look forward to his or her death: they will truly be grateful when they are dead.
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Thanks for reading. If you like what you read, and want to support my fledgeling career as a writer and musician, you can drop a few bucks in the virtual tip jar. It all adds up!
Venmo: @David-Bryan10026
Paypal: paypal.me/davidbryanandfriends
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