Mr. Cranky looks back — but not very far

Every year around now I thumb through my notebook and put together a column of items I didn’t find a use for as the year went along. Sitting down to compose this patchwork piece, I began with November, figuring I’d work my way back to last January, but I quickly ran into a problem — I’d only gotten halfway through November and I’d used up all my column space. So here’s a handful of my November entries.

Most of 2023 is probably best forgotten anyway.

Going to the Dark Side. For a few days I thought I might be losing my eyesight. Every so often things would grow dim. Because these episodes never lasted long, I started thinking that maybe they were actually short eclipses.  I abandoned that idea when friends patiently explained that such solar events would probably have been mentioned in the news and that I was a moron.

I next started keeping track of where and when these blackouts were occurring. As it turned out, they were happening only when I was walking in a certain vicinity. Mystery solved! I was passing through the shadow of that new mega-monster apartment building at the intersection of Lincoln and Elwood. The sun didn’t stand a chance. I have seen the future Bellingham and this is what it looks like.

Red Hot Reading. A couple of weeks ago I checked out Jonathan Evison’s novel “Lawn Boy” from the central library. I had heard it was one of the most frequent targets of self-appointed guardians of morality and I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. As I was heading out the door, a group of rowdy Moms for Liberty spotted the book title.

One of them hit me on the side of the head with a heavy Bible, and as I plummeted to the pavement the group grabbed the book, doused it with gasoline and set it on fire.

“Shame on you,” I said, stumbling to my feet. “You should all go read Ray Bradbury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451.’” 

“We can’t,” their leader said. “We already burned it.”

Political Pontifications. In our recent local election, Bellingham’s Mayor Seth Fleetwood failed to win a second term. Fleetwood had the unfortunate timing to serve in a period of pandemic, rising crime, record homelessness, unaffordable housing and a fentanyl plague. He had a couple of stumbles early on, but given the circumstances, he probably did about as well as anyone could.

Voters, however, weren’t in a forgiving mood and opted for challenger Kim Lund, who has no previous elective office experience and will step into the city’s top post facing many of the same problems that undid Fleetwood. Best of luck, Ms. Lund. We’ll hope things go well for you and you won’t have to learn the painful wisdom of the old Aesopian adage that cautions one to be careful what you wish for.

Java Jive. On Nov. 16, Bellingham Starbucks employees joined others around the country in a one-day strike against the global coffee giant, encouraging customers to satisfy their caffeine lust elsewhere. This was an easy one for me. With all the great independent, locally-owned espresso spots around town, why would I want to frequent a rapacious corporate behemoth that not even its employees like?

Consumer Craziness. Another Thanksgiving has passed. The holiday used to be about, well, giving thanks, but now its purpose seems to be a gastronomic prelude to the main events: Black Friday and Cyber Monday, opportunities to buy more electronic crap to replace the electronic crap you already have, which is perfectly good but is sooooo last year. 

Now it’s time to rest up for Christmas, an occasion to buy even more crap. Other than the orgiastic consumerism, I like the Christmas season, though I do grow weary of hearing insipid holiday music every place I go. If I had a time machine I’d go back to the 1930s and strangle Katherine Kennicott Davis before she had a chance to write “The Little Drummer Boy,” then we’d never have to hear rum pum pum pum again.

Hope Springs Eternal. In keeping track of things, I rely heavily on a daily planner rather than the cranial sieve I call my memory. Not long ago, I unwrapped my 2024 desk calendar and started penciling in some appointments for the upcoming year. (Younger readers may have to Google “desk calendar” and “penciling in.”) Given that we are entering 2024 with wars in Ukraine and Gaza, insanity in Congress, and the unspeakable horror of the possible reelection of Donald Trump, I was feeling pretty dispirited about the year ahead.

But then an email from the Mount Baker Theatre popped up on my phone and gave me reason to live: Randy Rainbow is coming to town!  Yep, the rainbow guy will be here in February. The day tickets went on sale I was among the first to line up at the box office. The room quickly filled with fans, all of us chattering with such rhapsodic excitement that a passerby might have assumed we were a gaggle of evangelicals expecting the second coming at any moment. 

Well, that’s all for now. The new year is not far away, another opportunity to repeat the same sorts of mistakes we’ve made in the past or, I dunno, maybe we should shoot for something a little better.

Mr. Cranky, AKA longtime Bellinghamster Alan Rhodes, writes occasionally.