Smilin’ Jack?

So I’m pretty much a chill guy who typically walks around wearing a smile. For me, a total office meltdown would trigger a leisurely walk to the lab and a single digit salute calmly directed toward my nemesis, Hal the computer.

Since last Thursday's House and Senate votes to cancel out stuff like healthcare, rural hospitals, and food for families, veterans, and children and yet another horrible event that followed; I just haven’t been myself. The cuts that will help add some chump change for needy billionaires has me walkin around and paraphrasing a quote coming from the late great Maya Angelou (sometimes right out loud.) It goes something like this: “When folks who praise dictators show you who they are, believe them the first time…or at least after ten years.”

It seems like legislators, expressing fealty to the president who would be king, hold some sort of grudge against cool American words like Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. It’s like believing in true American principles makes you too “woke”, as in being aware of certain racial prejudices and social inequities such as sexism and LGBTQ rights.

Suddenly, Jackie Robinson and Colin Powell have disappeared from the books, and looking for some day work at Home Depot during a visit from ICE (masked goons in costume) could earn you a one-way trip to El Salvador. Eligibility for the trip is limited to folks with more brownish melanin than Frosty the Snowman.

A few days ago on the Fourth, a block party and dinner with friends couldn’t quite snap me out of my funk, although it was cool hanging out with like-minded peeps. Earlier in the morning, I finished reading E Jean Carroll’s “Not My Type.” The reading was therapeutic, it warmed my heart some to see truth, intelligence, and guts win out to the tune of $83 million with an inconvenient disgusting truth being made public.

Smilin Jack remained slightly scowling Jack, showing up for a 7am tee time traveling across town from Pasadena to Rancho Park on Pico Blvd near UCLA. No time to warm up, the starter disappeared for about 20-minutes (had he been kidnapped?) I played a little like Stevie Wonder with a hangover, dropped far more than the usual and customary expletives, and beheaded my driver with a gentle nudge on the 18th tee. Ugh, what a terrible way to treat a typically beautiful, not-so-smoky, off shore breazy day after the Fourth.

The drive home was smooth sailing, even through downtown LA. I didn’t even see any occupying Marines. The ESPN host was annoying and 93.1 JACK FM featured the usual twelve tune rotation, but no Queen or the Stones. Oy vey, bad attitude is a force multiplier!

I started thinking about dark stuff like I always do when I go by USC and the dental school, just south of The 10. But now it was about the past, future, and present related to "making America great again"...and trusting Clorox potential over science. Dang. it's amazing what a terrible round of golf and CNN addiction can do to your mental and emotional health. With no music or sports distractions, I lapsed into an unhealthy mantra of "Big Bumbling Bill, ICE goons, and no USAID" while doing 70mph on an LA freeway. As I drove past Pasadena's Huntington Memorial Hospital, my mind's eye lit up to the visual of 19 million Americans losing healthcare benefits available to the rest of the civilized world; their only health counseling being, “Don’t get sick."

Why hadn’t I planted some weed in the patio instead of the geraniums?

After a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some Nitric Oxide juice to wash it down, I drive over to my old office, a place where the new owner graciously allows me to visit anytime. I mostly come by on weekends to get some work done without getting in the way of the Doc and team providing excellent patient care. I turned on CNN only to find that a familiar location in the Texas hill country had suffered a horrific natural flash flood disaster, now claiming over a hundred lives with dozens still missing. The victims include a number of young girls who were summer camping alongside the Guadalupe river. I know Kerrville and Hunt Texas; I spent multiple weekends there receiving training that changed my professional life.

I get to do quotes and video commentaries for 600 dental practices across the country M-F; I record them five atta time over the weekend. Many of my fave quotes come from Mark Twain, they're like comfort food quotes. I record my five quotes and start feeling a little better.

Vince, our maintenance guy, stops by for our usual Saturday sports and politics conversation. I quote him a fave Mark twain quote: “It isn’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble, it’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so." Vince proceeds to share that Twain was an easy mark for grifters, and his personal life wound up a disaster. I say goodbye to Vince and move on in search of Lasagna Bolognese.

At the restaurant, my former patient and ten-year superintendent of Temple City Unified School District, sees me, walks up, and asks me if I’m okay. I respond that I’ve been better. Superintendent Joan looks me in the eye and assures me that people I don’t even know need me, and if I need a friendly ear, please call. The lady to the right of me at the bar assures me that the super was concerned. I finish my excellent lasagna Bolognese and head home. I’m gonna watch Planes, Trains, and Automobiles and maybe find a few laughs, and then hit the sack.

I search the film on DirecTV Streaming; I can get PTand A with Steve Martin and John Candy on DirecTV…if I upgrade. Okay, I’ll upgrade, but it’s not yet available (Then, WHY DID YOU SAY IT WAS AVAILABLE IN THE FIRST PLACE? EXPLETIVE-EXPLETIVE-EXPLETIVE!!!

I go to Netflix and click on Bill Burr’s special in England-He's not floatin' my boat. I'm sure it's me, not him.

I write the first draft of this article; it's awful. I close my eyes imagining VP JD Vance’s eyeliner dripping down his cheeks and staining them ala India ink and Senator Lisa Murkowski breaking a high heel every day for the remainder of her natural life. And then I think about the young lives lost. It's not a stellar night for deep sleep.

Time for some 3am self talk: "So dude, you create your own possibilites; look for them. Wake up with some gratitude, express it right out loud, stop whining, and bring whatever solutions you can come up with to the table. Stay engaged. Suck it up buttercup, and figure it out Smilin Jack!" Make a difference for someone tomorrow.

And as Andrea McArdle used to sing, "The sun'll come out tomorrow..." So be grateful for it.