A Font of Discontent

I’m quite particular about my fonts. I spend a long time staring at fonts every day due to my job so it’s no surprise that I’m picky. I know the importance of readable type.

 

That’s why the Calibri font annoys me. I don’t understand why it’s the default font for Word and I have a hard time switching the default font to something I want to use. Most authors send their articles to me in Calibri, I guess because they’re not picky and just use what automatically pops up (I don’t encourage authors to do a lot of formatting anyway because we’re just going to change everything to adhere to our style, so they’re wasting their time).

 

I have a hard time reading Calibri. Something about the serifs throws off my cursor: I put the cursor in the text to delete something but the cursor is often next to where I want it to go so I accidentally delete something else. For some reason, it’s also hard for me to tell in Calibri if there are two spaces after a period. That’s a problem because if you’re writing something that’s being professionally published, you should never ever use two spaces after a period for various reasons. It’s no longer 1979. (Legal and government documents seem to have made an exception for themselves but every book and newspaper uses one space after a period.)

 

Anyway, when I’m writing or editing in Word, I always use plain old Helvetica, 12 points. Helvetica is clean and classic and doesn’t call attention to itself. It’s easier for me to read and lets me pay attention to the substance of the text and not the formatting. I’m having this weird problem now with all my Helvetica bold text displaying as gibberish in Word. It’s something to do with the font app I downloaded that was supposed to fix another problem.

 

I have access to a lot of fonts because of my job but it’s annoying that Helvetica doesn’t seem to come standard with the basic versions of Office and the like. Scroll down far enough in Word and you really get down to the font dregs. I mean, Diwan Thuluth? Gujarati Sangam MT? What the hell are these and when would you ever, ever use them?

 

No, I’ll just stick with classic fonts that are easy to read. I like Helvetica, Bembo, Futura, etc. I like some of the fonts that you can use to evoke the past, like Cooper or Peignot.

 

I stay away from anything that looks like somebody used it to design a flyer for Casino Night. Comic Sans should only be used for an event involving young children. Papyrus is only appropriate for a menu for a restaurant that only serves wraps. Fonts like Funkhouse might say “fun” but they look like ass. A lot of script or novelty fonts are illegible. Impact just reminds me of memes. And don’t get me started on …

 

… Hey, wake up! How long were you out? Mid-second paragraph, as far as I can tell. 

Law and Order for Whom?

“Law and order,” we’ve heard the authorities say for over 50 years anytime the public protests an injustice in America. Sometimes it comes after a “but”: “What’s happening is terrible,” the authorities say, “but we have to have law and order.”

 

But which laws do we choose to enforce? To whom do we grant order? Why do we offer these concepts in unequal measure to different people in our society? Who gets the benefit of the doubt and who doesn’t in America?

 

Now people are calling for order following the protests in Kenosha after the police shooting. Why now? Where was the order before this? What “order” could it possibly have served when police shot Jacob Blake seven times at point-blank range in the back in front of his kids? No matter what the police were after him for, don’t the principles of law and order call for a higher standard, a better response, than seven paralyzing bullets? Wasn’t there a better way to resolve this conflict?

 

Why does the police chief of Kenosha blame the shooting of three people (two fatally) during a protest on violating the order of a curfew rather than on the 17-year-old boy who crossed state lines to bring an AR-15 to a protest to shoot up the protestors? Why did this kid think it served law and order more to protect property than to protest against the shooting of people like Jacob Blake?

 

Why did the “lawless” protestors chase after this kid after he shot three people, while the police walked right by him? Why do we now have the usual suspects from the dregs of the Internet preaching “law and order” but celebrating this murder suspect and the inherent lawlessness and disorder in what he did?

 

Why does the president of the United States call for law and order when people protest when Black people get shot but doesn’t apply that same call for law and order to the shootings that precipitated the protests? Why does anybody?

 

How did it serve law and order for unmarked vans to grab protestors off the streets? How did it serve law and order for police to tear gas peaceful protestors?

 

Why will there be people who consider it a great affront to order that NBA players refused to play, while paralyzing a guy with seven bullets to the back was just background noise that barely disturbed the order in their universe?

 

Somebody said this about America, and we keep getting evidence that it’s true: “There is an in-group whom the law protects but does not bind, and there is an out-group whom the law binds but does not protect.”

 

Asking why we mete out law and order in different measures in this country is a rhetorical question. You know the answer.

I have a reservation. What do you mean it's not in the computer?!

Our trip last week to Maine was just lovely. We stayed in a house in Wells, near Ogunquit. We went to the beach, hung out at the pool and spent some time together at the house. It was nice to go out to eat (outdoor dining), which we hadn’t done in several months. It was nice to get away, particularly to an area I’d never been to before. It was nice to be able to read and do crossword puzzles, or have a drink and chat, on the screened-in porch. It was very nice to spend family time together.

 

However, the first day started off as a disaster. When we went to check in to the house, they didn’t have any information on us. It was in a gated community and they wouldn’t let us in. We called the company that arranged it, Vacasa, and it turns out they never sent the property manager the packet they usually send, which would have had our Maine certificate of compliance with COVID-19 testing.

 

This is despite the fact that we arranged this trip in January and sent in all our paperwork on time, and Steve heard back that we were good to go. Vacasa just didn’t do what they were supposed to do.

 

So that first afternoon, we were hundreds of miles from home with a 12-year-old and nowhere to stay the night. This was just a tad stressful, as Steve was on and off the phone with the company for two hours and we were driving around and stopping in various parking lots before we got an answer. We kept our composure but we were livid. 

 

We did end up with somewhere to stay that night. Vacasa found us a rental house that was OK but nowhere I would have stayed for a week. It was very small. So we did have a place to stay but it was inconvenient to have to unload the car for one night (we didn’t want to leave a car packed with electronics) and repack the next day to move on. We also lost part of a day.

 

We were able to get into the original house the next morning. The property manager was very apologetic, saying Vacasa had botched things before and the board of directors had voted to stop using them at their properties. I’d never heard of Vacasa before (we found the house on Vrbo, which must have sent it out to a third party) so maybe it’s a local company. We won’t use Vacasa again.

 

The other annoying thing is that we got COVID tested twice for this trip. The paperwork we got said we had to be tested and send Vacasa the certificate of compliance “no later than 72 hours prior to check-in.” Just based on a literal reading of these common English words, “no later than 72 hours” would mean we would send them our paperwork by the Friday before our Monday arrival. So we got tested and sent them the paperwork before that Friday.

 

But no—we actually had to do the exact opposite of what Vacasa told us and send in our test results no earlier than 72 hours before check-in. So we had to get tested again the Friday before leaving (luckily I was already off and could take time to go) and had to hope we got the results back in time. We tested negative and sent them our results, again. I didn’t mind getting tested but I did mind getting it done twice in a week because Vacasa did not grasp the difference between “earlier” and “later.”

 

Oh, yeah—we’ve already been refunded a bunch of money.

As the Crow Flies

It is funny the way the storm—its shifting patterns of tropical winds, its straightforward highways of lightning—unites places one might never put together, places otherwise strangers to each other.

 

Yeadon to Radnor. Strathmere to Wilmington. Bryn Mawr to Kirkwood.

 

The red and purple gouges work their way over the map as the crow flies, efficient and uncaring. We are soaked by the same downpours, buffeted by the same gales.

 

The storm does not know or care that there is no bridge over that part of the Delaware River, or that there’s construction on Route 141, or how bad Schuylkill traffic is at this time of day. It races from town to town, point to point, connecting us in a way we might never have connected ourselves.

Waste of July

Summer reaches middle age, and like an AARP Magazine subscriber who knows life is unspooling, I resent every day that I cannot float in salty blue under the blinding white sun. We needed the rain, yes. But we closed out July—on a half-day Friday, no less—with an afternoon of listless rain.

What a waste. It might as well be April.

In June, we could afford to squander. But in July-going-on-August, these glittering afternoons are finite. I am like the man who gets the prognosis, and knows it ain’t great. And feels every day he loses.

We could luck out and linger for the final seven weeks, until the stars and sun say “Close up shop.” More likely, on August nights, the humidity will collapse and the clouds scatter and pool water will stick at 80º, forcing an end to it while the sun glares, useless.

Hot Stove

Expert Chef: Now, don’t touch the stove. I just turned off the burner so it’s still hot. If you want to touch it, you have to wait until the heat dies down and the red light turns off.

American 1: OK, I’ll wait. (Five seconds pass.) Can I touch it now?

Expert Chef: No, the light is still on.

American 1: But I want to touch it!

American 2: I’m just so over not touching the stove.

American 1: That’s long enough. I’m touching it.

The Expert Chef grabs American 1’s hand before he can burn himself.

Expert Chef: No! It’s still hot! You’ll get burned!

American 2: But is it still hot? I’m just asking questions.

Expert Chef: Yes. All empirical evidence, including the heat emanating from the burner, and the red light, indicate that the stove is indeed still hot.

American 1 touches the stove and burns his hand.

American 1: Ow! That burns!

Expert Chef: Well, what did you think would happen? I warned you.

American 1: You can’t tell me not to touch a hot stove! I have freedom!

American 2: I have a right to touch that stove! It’s right in the Constitution!

Expert Chef (flabbergasted): But … that’s not … You have your freedom, yes, but you have to balance that with responsibility. In this case, the responsibility not to hurt yourself or others.

American 1 (staring directly at red light): How about now? Still hot?

Expert Chef (through gritted teeth): You can feel. The heat. From here.

American 2: But my gut tells me it’s not hot.

American 1: Oh, always go with your gut. I mean, what do so-called (does air quotes) “experts” know?

American 2 touches the still-hot burner.

Expert Chef: No! No!

American 2: Oww! That smarts!

American 1: Oh, how hot can it— (touches stove) Ow!

American 2: Nobody warned us!

The Expert Chef bangs his head on the counter.

American 1: Why are you hurting yourself? Don’t you know any better?

Repeat scene ad infinitum.

Back to School or Home or Wherever

I haven’t had too much to write about lately. It seems like a contradiction since there’s so much going on, but it seems like the whole country is boiling down to COVID-19, Black Lives Matter and the election. I have plenty to say about all three but I don’t want to be a broken record. Yet, when there are so many serious things going on, I feel silly writing about something more trivial. So it’s a conundrum.

One thing that is prominent in my mind now is going back to school, or back to the laptop or wherever the school year is happening. The Delaware Department of Education just released guidelines for a few scenarios and in August, the governor will announce his decision on whether schools will reopen full time, reopen part time, or remain closed with distance learning.

It's funny because the idea that they will decide on school reopening in August is at once obvious and useless. It’s halfway through July. The school year starts Aug. 31 so when else would they decide—November?

I’m a little torn about the next school year. It would be good for kids to be back in a classroom, but any return should happen safely so no kid, teacher or staff member gets COVID-19. Our son’s distance learning experience was OK, given that nobody had time to plan anything, but could have been better. I hope this time he’ll have some more work to do. We don’t want him to fall behind but this disease scares me. For now, they are saying it looks like Delaware schools will be open with many precautions.

I don’t mean to complain because we were lucky that we could work from home the last few months while our son was on his laptop. It was a challenge to supervise him while working and having our own Zoom meetings, but we didn’t have to juggle toddlers or something like that. I don’t know what the hell parents do if they have to go to work or face greater challenges.

I’m just some shlub so I don’t know the solution to this problem. But it infuriates me that Betsy DeVos doesn’t either. A look at the Department of Education’s website shows no plans or guidance for reopening during COVID-19—you wouldn’t even know the pandemic is happening. She disgraced herself with her ignorance last weekend during an interview. Get a load of this exchange:

REPORTER: So, yes or no, can you assure students, teachers, parents, that they will not get coronavirus because they're going back to school?

DEVOS: Well, the key is that kids have to get back to school.

DeVos offered no plans, guidance or reassurance for parents, kids or teachers in the face of a pandemic that has killed well over 100,000 people. In several interviews, she just kept repeating that “Kids need to go back to school.” This is no more than any parent could say. DeVos talks like she’s just a casual observer of current events, someone who sees a problem on the news and says “Someone should do something,” and then forgets about it a minute later.

You’re the fucking Secretary of Education! You should be doing something, rather than just issuing a mandate that kids should return and not offering any guidance! I agree that not every school is facing COVID-19 to the same extent, so there’s no plan that fits all, but she should at least work to offer a standard for schools to meet before they can reopen. Would it be so difficult for DeVos to offer the bare minimum of calling for masks, testing and social distancing in schools?

The Trump Cabinet has been such a clown car of incompetence, corruption and malignance, and DeVos has been one of, if not the, worst of them. But at least a lot of these awful people have been fired. It figures that Betsy DeVos is the one who continues to stick around in a time of national crisis, like a dimwitted appendix.

Do your goddamn job!