A Dump by any other name would smell
In my high school English class— taught by a woman who once told me that I made her want to vomit, but did inspire me to use a Shakespearian allusion for this title— I remember studying Hawthorne. (It may have been someone else because I can’t find any proof that Hawthorne thought what I am about to tell you.) During these studies, I learned that he (maybe not him) was a big proponent of burning everything down every 15-20 years to keep things fresh. Rebuild. Rebirth. Recreation. Reclamation. I think of this now because, on Sunday night, I sat down and wrote 450-600 words of an intro to this dump, but when I circled back now (who can relate), everything was gone.
All gone.
So here we are. The question, when you lose something that came before, is simple. Do I try to recreate what was (a 450-word explanation about how I came to be a donut aficionado/snob) or do go full Hawthorne (maybe not him) and burn it all down.
The good news is that between Sunday when I wrote, and today, while I write: a lot has happened. I have news. I have views. I have anecdotes. I may even have updates. It is 7:41 pm on Thursday, and I will not sleep until I put these words into the world.
Let’s start at the top with the big news.
I am employed.
*Pending a background check
It’s been a weird seven weeks of unemployment, but I’ve enjoyed myself, for the most part,*. Leen, Eliot, and I used the time to attempt to acclimate ourselves to life in Minnesota. Sometimes, that has meant sitting in backyards watching Eliot try to eat grass. Other times, it meant going for drives around Minneapolis trying to get our bearings and merely get out of the house. But it seems like August 3rd will be back at “work,” though it’s pretty unclear what work will look like. Minnesota waits for our governor to make an announcement sometime next week about the nature of school this fall. If you’re like me, you’ve been tracking the rising COVID totals and calculating the risks you have to take and the risks you don’t have to take as you try to survive in 2020.
I was sitting in a park last night with a pair of friends, and I remarked that we would have never considered doing a park hang in April or early May. However, despite the disease being worse now, we felt assured enough to take our chances of sitting outside as long as we all kept our distance, and no one laughed so hard they spread droplets to the others.
If you’re like my mother, you had a St. Jude candle lit, hoping that employment would find me. If you’re like me, you knew those constant applications and counting on whatever network of Minnesota contacts I had developed nearly a decade ago hadn’t withered and died. It’s hard to say who is more responsible for my future employment (background check pending), St Jude, or me, but I am content not to know.
As a result, this week, I spent a lot of time trying to understand health insurance. I can say with 100% honesty that I sent a text to a friend that read: Explain an HSA to me like I am seven. I am firmly on the record as saying that it truly blows my mind that there has been less made of the debate on health care now, amid a pandemic than there was before, amid a not-pandemic.
Coming from a place where insurance was not something I had to worry about to America where on multiple occasions in the past few weeks *I have woken up at 2 in the morning in a cold sweat panicking about insurance, it seems like a good time to address the elephant in the room. Are people really so happy with their insurance that they don’t want to give it up? I showed probably five people my insurance offerings at this new job and depending on their situation, they said, “Eh, that’s pretty crummy, but hey it is what it is…” or “Well, it’s not great, but it’s better than my wife’s insurance,” or “Wow, that’s really good; you’re lucky! What are you even debating!” I am firmly on board with a single-payer system. If you ask me where the money is coming from, I will happily go line by line through the US Government’s 2020 budget to find some cuts we can make to ensure that no one has to wake up sweating at 2 am wondering what will happen if they get a goddamn coronavirus. For those of you still not sure, I implore you: Go live in a country where your insurance is covered and then get back to me. I am not arguing this from a position of fairytale dream-lands. It exists. It works. It does not work here.
Want another example of how broken things are here? I called two people DIRECTLY associated with being tasked to explain these health care options to me. When asked questions, each of them would sort of hem and haw and pause and say, “I’ll have to look that up,” or “I know… it’s about as clear as mud”. When asked, a future co-worker told me that she just closed her eye, picked one of the two options, and hopes it doesn’t fuck her when she needs it. Another friend said: Both options suck, and you’re not going to realize just how much you’re getting fucked until the moment you need something, and that’s when you’ll find out you don’t have it.
God bless America.
Now, as someone else so cogently pointed out: No one made me move home from the petro-state that is Qatar.
This is true.
But wow, when the argument goes: YEAH THINGS BLOW HERE BUT IF YOU DON’T LIKE OUR SHITTY SYSTEM, LEAVE. I ask: Is that really what you think of when you think of America? This is the country where people refuse to wear masks despite science and logic and public health and reason and decency. Those same Americans are just going to forever accept that something sucks, but they won’t do something about it?
My beautiful wife routinely says: Americans don’t understand what it’s honestly like to live in a place where they have so much power. Or put another way: go live somewhere where disagreeing with the government or having independent thought outside of the mainstream gets you put behind the sun, thrown in prison, killed, penalized and punished. Then realize that we can make a difference if we try. So I ask you to try.
Someday we’re all going realize that we all agree. Whether it’s our insurance that sucks, our neighbor’s insurance that sucks, or our friend’s insurance that blows, we want to do something about it. It doesn’t have to be this way. People we care about and people we don’t care about alike shouldn’t have to worry about whether they can take a job based on the insurance that is or is not offered.
For those long time readers wondering: What became of Sam’s bed problems? Is that the real reason he is waking up at two am? It’s not.
I looked into returning my mattress, but wow, returning things in the time of COVID is not easy. They suggested I rent a UHaul and take the bed to St. Vincent De Paul, then take a selfie of me and the person I was giving my mattress to as a method of proof that I got rid of it. Once they got that, they would refund me, and I could buy another one. This seemed like a lot of work, so instead, we bought a mattress pad.
My shoulders hurt less, but the night wake-ups remain.
Now that the employment question has been solved (pending a background check), we begin the next part of the American experience: House hunting. If I am honest, I am far better versed in house hunting than in job hunting. This may say something about the American job market. Maybe we should have House-Hunter-esque shows for people searching for jobs. It might cut down on unemployment and confusion.
If you spend enough time watching HGTV or the travel channel, you can identify your aesthetic for homes (I guess I like Mid-century modern and Tudors). I think there should be a job channel that gives people more ideas about the jobs out there.
If it is true that most high school students will take jobs in fields that don’t exist yet, then we should be displaying and documenting the new types of jobs to make them more accessible to people on the market. People can’t take jobs if they don’t know they exist!
Big night for soapboxes. I am only mildly sorry. I have had two gin and tonics and haven’t written since July 3rd.
Apparently, there are some things I’ve wanted to say. But I think I’ve expelled most of them and so now, we move to the next thing.
Suppose this is where you leave me, then have a good night. I hope all is well. Let’s be in touch. And now for the rest of you.
The Dumps
“I May Destroy You feels possible only because now, at the age of 32, Coel is in full creative control as its showrunner, director, star, and writer.”
Like many of us, Leen and I are always on the hunt for something to watch. Sometimes that means Leen spends a few hours in the bedroom finishing Marcella. At the same time, I try to watch Season 2 of Dark without getting confused (nearly impossible) or falling asleep (equally as difficult). One show that we have gravitated towards this summer is I May Destroy You, created, produced, written, and directed by its star Michaela Coel.
The show is an uncomfortable watch at times. The show tackles vastly complicated and frustrating topics. The show sometimes spends entire episodes following characters we have never met before. Through it all, it’s been great. I sat down and read this interview with Coel done by E. Alex Jung for Vulture. I learned a lot about the star and the history of the show that only solidified what I’d already thought. It’s an incredible achievement that puts forward a truly unique look a topic that we have all undoubtedly heard about, experienced, been privy to conversations focusing on and just thinking about.
The show’s pilot is pretty well covered in this article, so I’ll summarize it here as well, and then, if you are curious, you can give it a watch on HBO. Coel’s character, Arabella, is a prominent Twitter-voice on the verge of tuning in a manuscript when a night of drinking with friends (on-deadline) goes awry. She wakes up confused and slowly puts together the pieces to discover she’s been the victim of sexual assault. What follows is a study of a character trying to navigate this new world with new circumstances as she has faults and starts. It’s too early to say how Coel’s character deals with the new realities, but if this article is any hint, the show doesn’t end in murder. I recommend reading about Coel here and watching the show on HBO.
“Welcome to America: land of things you don’t need but you’re going to get anyway. ”
2. I had the pleasure of introducing Leen to "the Container Store" the other day. As a former Container store employee and current dump reader said, "Welcome to America and the place that sells the most valuable thing: Space. But also sells the least valuable thing: stuff you don't need, but you think you might."
I've already gone over how we are spending my money here in America (read: quickly and on things that we used to have but now need again), so this won't be that. Instead, here is a Buzzfeed list about somethings that you could do around your house to spruce it up, and maybe you won't have to spend too much to do it. I recently looked into having someone else refurbish a table for me, using a service called Angie's List. I suspect Angie and Craig used to date, and I assume this joke has been made, but it's original content to me, so I am going to leave it. Angie's list gives me access to builders and doers.
In contrast, Craig's List gives me access to missed connections, lousy job offerings, and the occasional couch. I have also heard I should find tools and a grill there. But those are purchases for homes, not apartments. Alas, a furniture man called Walt, who signed all of his text messages "-Walt" quoted me $1800 to refurbish an oak table I have in my dining room.
Walt, before yesterday, I didn't have a job. Do you think I have $1800 sitting around for a table? He argued that the table is already 100 years old, and he promises to make it last 100 more if I let him fix and bring it back to life. For $1800, he better make the table walk and do the mamba. Instead, I've been watching YouTube videos and learning about the more beautiful aspects of sanding tools.
Here are 25 things you can do to freshen up your space that won't make you pull a -Walt and spend $1800 on something. Instead, spend 40 and buy something you probably don't need but you'll enjoy for a bit. This is capitalism. We have terrible health offerings, but hey, did you know you could get Peel-and-Stick wallpaper to decorate any space quickly? I bet you didn't. Find that and 24 other things you probably don't need but might enjoy here on Buzzfeed.
“Odds are pretty good that if you stumble across a wasp nest, you’re going to get stung at least about 10 times — while running away,”
On a trip to Morocco, I learned that Leen was allergic to bees. I found this out when we went to an outdoor tea shop overlooking the Atlantic Ocean specializing in tea with honey. Unbeknownst to us, there were what felt like hundreds of bees there. It was a 100-1 ratio of bees to humans, and to say that Leen was stressed is a fair statement. We did not enjoy whatever we purchased. We promptly left, swearing to never return to Morocco (easily a top three worst country I’ve ever visited). Ever since I have been more cognizant of bee exposure and done my best not to take her places where there are going to be too many (Moroccans and bees), thankfully she was not stung on our trip. Still, the last sting she had resulted in her face looking like Will Smith’s in that Hitch scene. You know the one.
Now, whenever we are out and specifically, in places with bees about, I do my best to stay vigilant. There are two bees, maybe paper wasps, maybe bald-faced hornets who seem to enjoy my car and proximity to the garbage cans. I sprayed one of them with the windshield wipers the other day, but it came back. When I don’t have access to medium-powered chemical fluid, I do my best to identify the types of bees that are okay: Bumble, sweat, honey versus the ones that are not: All the other ones (have you ever seen a cicada killer wasp?)
Thankfully the New York Times also was fielding questions about this topic. After reading this, I can identify the type a little better. I don’t plan on going back in for a better look because that seems like a great way to get stung, but I will be more aware of what type of wasp is about and whether I need to worry. If you, like my wife, are terrified of bees, or are like me: feel morally obligated to protect the ones you love: read this story about our bees and how you can identify them, safely protect yourself from them or just avoid them.
Full disclosure: I got 85% of the way through the bee story before I fell asleep. So despite earlier assurances that I was going to finish this thing before I went to bed, we are nearly 12 hours later (7:27 am), and I am going to try to get this out before 9 am.
4. This story came to my attention yesterday while sitting in my brother's backyard when he said: Did you see the thing about USCIS and their failure to secure a printing contract to print green cards? Truth is I hadn't! So this morning at 3:40 am, when I woke for, you know, baby things, I decided to treat myself to reading some bad news. At the moment, Leen is waiting on her green card in the mail. This process is supposed to take 120 days from one of two events: either when you pay for your green card (April 20th), or the moment you step foot in the country (June 1st). We are not at the 120-day mark for either of these milestones. In theory, her green card COULD still arrive, but the more I dig into understanding what's happening with USCIS, the less likely it seems that this card is going to get here any time soon.
As many of you know, our immigration process was annoyingly long. Despite my being an American, my non-American spouse was, lacking a better set of words to describe it, not welcome in America. I've heard a handful of people say things like, "Well, the immigration system is so bad, they must be taking care to just be preventing people from abusing the system, and you are just caught up in other people's frauds."
Bullshit. This Administration is anti-immigration, both legal and illegal.
If you believe otherwise, you're not paying attention, so allow me to explain some of the realities.
On the one hand, raise your hand if you got a COVID stimulus check in April? I would bet that most Americans reading this are raising their hands.
My hand is firmly not raised.
Why? Is it because I lived abroad? Nope! Americans abroad got their stimulus checks. Is it because I haven't filed taxes? Nope! I've filed on time every year for the entirety of my time abroad. Is it because the Trump White House ensured that Americans married, legally married, went to court, went to church, got married to their non-American spouses, didn't qualify for the check? YEP.
An estimated 1.2 million of us were cut out for the simple fact that we married someone with a different passport. If you don't believe me, read about it here (Some 1.2 million Americans won't get stimulus checks because they're married to immigrants).
On the other hand, let's talk about green cards. When Leen and I agreed to begin the process to move to America at the end of 2018, I was under the impression; she could basically show up, as my spouse, and get a green card. It is not that simple. There were thousands of dollars in fees, hundreds of pages of documents, and dozens of forms to sign and follow up with along the way. All so that she could get to America and get a green card.
This brings me to my second point. The Trump White House let a contract lapse with the printing house, located in Kentucky, responsible for printing Green Cards and giving them out to the estimated 50,000 legal immigrants. The Administration had plans to in-source the printing.
But lo and behold, they didn't get their act together. Now, we are down to one printing location in Missouri that is already overburdened, understaffed, and nearing their financial limits. The Trump White House couldn't legally halt legal immigration, instead what they decided to do was just stop printing green cards. This is no doubt a plan of shit-heel dick-cheese himself, Stephen Miller (who is currently in the news for denying that his grandmother died of COVID, despite a death certificate stating a cause of death as Covid). If you're not sure where you stand on immigration issues, take a look at my situation.
We paid the money. We waited the appropriate time. We didn't try to cheat anything. And our reward is someone deciding to simply not print the green card. Without a green card, life in America for immigrants can be difficult. We are confident that things will work out for us and that Leen will be able to secure employment based on her talents that far outshine anything I can do. If this country is a meritocracy, then she should be able to find something. If the Stephen Miller's of the world have their way, she won't.
Next time you find yourself in discussion with a person who has just gone through the rigors of the US immigration system, don’t patronize them by telling them that it’s this way to catch the people acting in bad faith. It’s not. It’s this way because the Trump administration is xenophobic. Talk about the real snowflakes.
If you made it this far and want to read what got me so mad this morning, you can read it here:
How the Trump administration is turning legal immigrants into undocumented ones
and also this one:
Stephen Miller as Bart Simpson
5. Let’s finish up with a lighter touch. I am always on the hunt for new hobbies. Sometimes it’s nice to read a book; other times, I have the motivation to go for a run. But what about those times where you’re feeling more active than reading but not active enough for running? Well then… how about you take a look at magnetic fishing. This trend is starting to take off. I heard about it at the start of the summer but didn’t believe it was real. I scoffed. Said: that’ll never catch on. Then, I came across this story a few weeks ago out of Wisconsin, and I am sure I could look harder to see where else this thing is picking up. It’s real people.
I tried to explain this idea to someone recently. They thought that our rivers and lakes were so polluted that our fish were now susceptible to being scooped up by powerful magnets. No, that is not what is happening, but hey, I mean, we probably aren’t far off. No, the magnet trend, from what I gather, is being driven by true-crime podcasts and people looking for interesting things. We’ve apparently found all the stray metal in parks, and now we are taking to the rivers to see what sort of weird shit sticks. This story details people finding bikes, a safe, a few metal rods, and who knows what else.
Read it for yourself here and then get on Amazon and buy a magnetic fishing pole.
That’s my story for now.
I hope all of you are well.
Here are a few photos of things from the last few weeks. Enjoy.
