March 26, 2020

Well, Well, Well… would you just look at that? This whole thing fell down faster than an unzipped prom dress! Over the course of a few short weeks, a muffled cough was heard somewhere in China and now we have been sent home with simple instructions not do anything with anyone or go anywhere for anything. Okay, got it! No problem.

The first few days were absolute bliss. Pajamas and snacks with only an occasional glance at obligations or job requirements. Then, at some point, there was this numbing sensation that started to amplify. For me, the trigger was on the morning of March 9, just three weeks ago. The S&P 500 powered off for 15 minutes because the 7.79% nose dive at the opening bell triggered a halt in trading. I learned a lot about US markets that day. These “circuit breakers,” as they have been called, are staggered in three tiers at 7%, 13%, and 20%. The first two halt trading for 15 minutes, and the third suspends the market for the rest of the day. These trading curbs were put in place after the crash in October of 1987, and have been activated five times since. Four of these occurred in the last two weeks.

They called off school, shut down bars and restaurants. My internship sent everyone home to work remotely, but that just means I take a hike. I still have hours at Italia Gardens, where I am a cook and proud of it. So…so what, I just stay home. I’ll cook and I’ll bake. Maybe I’ll decorate! Definitely watching Mad Men again.

Well, I did. I made a pie, apple. Two batches of cookies. I did chicken, Marsala and Kabobs. There was a long hot bath and a nice glass of wine. I’ve enjoyed the occasional… well, no. Not the occasional, the usual glass of whiskey on ice followed by some cigarettes, Marlboro Reds. There’s a new photo above the sofa and I finally found that tie I was looking for. I cleaned out my wallet, I have done five crosswords. I’ve taken a lot of walks. A few bike rides, too. Did I mention I drank some whiskey?

March 30, 2020

For some reason, hope is a tough thing to grasp today. It seems bleak, it’s cataclysmic and disturbing. What we are set to deal with now, the threat of an invisible contagion, seems at times to be all we will ever know. I struggle to figure out how to see past it. I keep washing my hands and try to keep myself occupied with work, but where will we be after Covid is done with us?

I’m hopeful because we are a strong people. We are larger than any one crisis, and we have met many foes with courage and humility. This virus isn’t about right and wrong, though. It’s not who lied and who cheated, or who won and who lost. These metrics aren’t like sports and the circumstances have caught everyone off guard. We have been given an opportunity to move away from what’s small and instead see what is significant. These times will change everything, and this virus will kill a lot people. But, a brighter day lies ahead. That day is called tomorrow. I haven’t been there yet but it is on my list.

So to sum up, keep yourself busy and safe. Play your part and slow your roll. Do what you can from your end. We need to flatten the curve, and slow the spread. I don’t have all the answers I just know that smart people said that stuff. Listen to the doctors and go read a book.

Warmly,

Daniel J. Neebes

P.S. – Tiger King: All I can say is “Wow”

Why do I write like I’ve got so much time? Why do I believe there will be a tomorrow to read that book, write that story or joke, a tomorrow to tell that person I love them?

At the time of my original writing of this piece, on March 26^th, 2020, there were 2,856 cases of the novel coronavirus and 62 deaths from that virus in Michigan. As I typed these words on April 3rd into a Word document, the total number of cases had risen to 12,744 and the death toll was 479 people. Now, as of the third edition on April 6th, there are 17,221 total cases and a total of 727 people have died. I’ve highlighted the word people because it is too often that we hear these numbers and brush them off our shoulder. Each passing was a person that had a family, that loved, that laughed, that believed the sun would rise and tomorrow would come.

I am able to spend my days during this crisis working my 9-5 job from home, thankfully. I realize that so many people are not as fortunate or do not have the luxury of being able to stay in-doors, as we’ve been directed to do by our Governor, Gretchen Whitmer. Every day I do my best to distract myself from the global pandemic that is ravaging my country and the world at large. I try my hardest to fend off fear and dread by keeping my hands furiously typing across a keyboard.

But due to the nature of my job, one after another after another, small businesses owners tell me about the hardship that they are dealing with. It is both explicit and implicit. It is as blunt as them telling me they can’t talk because their business has been forced to close and they have to decide who to keep on and who to lay off. It’s as explicit as one man telling me that he doesn’t know if he’ll be in business next week, so of course he cannot talk to me. Or, it is as subtle as a stern voice and an unwillingness to bring forth information about their business.

All in all, the American people are hurting, frightened, and don’t know who to look to or where to turn. There is no one with a plan or a timetable, all estimates are model based and there is no certainty about when this foe will let up. There is no rallying cry that is bringing us together as Americans-only divisiveness that divides us: Democrat and Republican. We are a fractured nation with 50 separate and competing democracies pitted against each other for supplies and equipment.

The only hope that we have to defeat this invisible scourge is each other; which is paradoxical because to defeat our enemy we must be separate. Each of us is on an island looking to the next one longingly; wishing for the companionship that we all took for granted. That is what makes this so terrifying: in order for us all to triumph we must all face it alone.

Yes, we are as connected as we’ve ever been. Yes, we have the world at our fingertips via our smartphones, game consoles, desktops, laptops, and streaming services. But these are all things, inanimate objects that don’t hear us speak. If a joke is told and no one is around to hear it, is it funny?

This is a moment for self-reflection. A season for inspection and repentance. In order to go through this storm, we’re going to need faith and an unwavering will. Faith to know that we’ll make it to the other side and a will to do everything necessary to make it there. I hope to see you all on the other side, but on the off chance that we don’t meet again: it has been a hell of a time.

Signed,

Publius

Note: Coronavirus data and number are exclusive to the State of Michigan only.

Source for the Coronavirus data used in this piece: https://www.michigan.gov/coronavirus

 

 

The former Secretary of Defense has a new book out with Bing West entitled Call Sign Chaos: Learning to Lead. Through war torn and seasoned eyes, the book explores times through the career of a four-star Marine Corps general leading troops into battle, under administrations both Republican and Democrat. In an interview with Morning Joe on September 4, 2019, Jim Mattis said that our country is deeply divided and it remains our individual responsibility to be civil and respect one another. In regard to the recent development that the Pentagon is diverting $3.6 billion in military projects to fund the border wall, the General refused to be a critic. He makes clear that he’s concerned primarily with trust amongst policy makers. His silence, Mattis explained, was to not “add to the corrosive political debate.” 

The anger that is apparent in America today marks a loss in the battle for our better angels. Cooperation between citizens and elected officials, communication amongst allies and enemies are the surest ways to success and prosperity. We need to take care of ourselves, our neighbors, our fellow man and our planet. The problems we face are generational and wide-ranging, and solving these ailments will not be quick nor easy. The first step, to take a hint from the General, is identifying personal culpability. 

In heeding that advice, I will take responsibility for my actions. I am guilty as charged when it comes to consuming stuff without considering repercussions on the environment. I am responsible for the words I have used to describe people I am close to. Despite my comments being behind their backs – which I believe is the appropriate way to call someone an asshole – it’s not nice and it’s certainly not fair. I have disregarded people near me at all hours of the day and night; this specifically refers to my raging alcoholism and eventual disregard for my neighbors trying to get some fucking sleep… “Sorry Guys.” 

Moreover, it is critically important to be accountable to oneself. I have not always looked out for my own best interest. Frankly, my MO usually involves calculating every maneuver that would be best and serve me well, and then not moving at all. This is easily explained by youthful enthusiasm and naïveté. It is more difficult and painful to understand that I made conscious decisions to cause personal distress. With a clear head, I have made some ugly mistakes that lead to my own detriment. I take no pride in admitting this but the admission must be made. 

Accountability is difficult on a good day. It helps to have people around that hold responsibility in high regard, but the real test of culpability is personal and comes from somewhere unknown. Individual responsibility is unique, unquantifiable, and unlimited. Take for example the Canadian Goose; the large bird that is found on golf courses, college campuses, and just about everywhere that you’re trying to go. When these birds take flight, they immediately gather into a V-shape formation. And they squawk. Man, do they squawk! All the other birds in the formation squawk at the guy in the front. They need him to keep going, to keep the pace, to break the wind for the other birds to follow. The guy upfront can’t squawk because he’s busy trying to fly the fastest. Eventually, all the goose will take turns up front, but it’s the first goose that sets the pace for the flight. He’s the guy that brings into focus the strength of the team to accomplish the mission, which is a few thousand miles of migration and procreation. 

We have a similar task to tackle. Be the Lead Goose. 

-Daniel J. Neebes 

 

A new year is upon us and it seems appropriate to comment on how the past twelve months have sliced and shanked their way through the par of the course. From the dreary days of January, we learned of salacious details and conspicuous rumors out of the White House from Michael Wolffs book “Fire and Fury.” In March, my family and friends joined me on a Carnival cruise that we playfully refer to as a hoedown, a hootenanny, and the Fight for Fifteen. As April began, the federal government started a dubious policy of separating children from their parents at the southern border. President Trump rescinded that directive in late June, but that decision continues to cause distress and raise concerns. As Labor Day rounded the corner, America payed Her respects to a fallen soldier and senator, John McCain. This fall, midterm elections were in full force. Historic levels of incumbent retirements provided an opening for Democrats to snag more House seats and gain a majority, ending a 8 year losing streak. November also witnessed the most destructive wildfires in the history of California, leaving thousands of families shattered and whole communities tattered. Finally, after a volatile stock market responded to a benevolent president and a record number of cabinet-level turnovers, the month of December has been the worst on Wall Street since the Great Depression.

Coming up; the 116th Congress will begin its first session. The British Parliament is set to vote on the Brexit package on January 11th. And I will reside in the city of Flint, Michigan USA.

Cheers to the New Year,

Daniel J. Neebes

It’s now been a year since I left the university, diploma in hand, for the real world. I traveled away from my comfortable collegiate bubble to find my place. I’m still not sure why I was in such a hurry.

Since then, I’ve learned a few things about life. But don’t get me wrong: I’m still wandering around blindly with ditz. But I’d like to share a couple anecdotes in hopes they will help out the next batch of wide-eyed, starlit grads on their way to their heart-aching, entry-level jobs:

When you move to DC, don’t leave your cereal or sliced wheat bread out on the counter overnight. Even if you don’t have mice. You will.

Nothing is ever free. Not even advice. Everything comes with a price. Find the people whose price is friendship, love, and understanding.

Don’t ever venture out on Bourbon Street without a plan. Especially with your boss. And if you do, be sure to eat the fried chicken before drinking the jumbo strawberry daiquiri.

Have your friends over for a good meal every once in a while. We all miss the warmth of home and the kitchen-table conversations without glowing screens.

Learn that you will be paid less. Months out of college, accept the job with the lower salary and more passionate work. This season is for self-discovery and for adventure.

When you have the opportunity to move to Montana and live in the mountains, take it. Take it and do not look back to the urine-stained city with its glamourous steak and champagne dinners. Don’t worry too much about the distance or the uncertainty. The steak is better out west anyways.

Buy your tires from Costco. Buy your wine from Costco. Buy your toilet paper from Costco. Buy your hotdog dinner from Costco. But be sure it all fits in your tiny, one-bedroom apartment.

Call your grandparents. Ask for advice and wisdom. Listen intently to your family’s musings. You’ll thank yourself later.

Get a library card. Check out one book at a time and demolish it. Read fiction, fantasy, sexy, tragic, and exciting literature. Rekindle bedtime stories. Let literary worlds bleed into your own.

Never turn down an opportunity to play scrabble, go to drag shows, or find mountainous hot springs alongside friends – new and old. Friendships are won and drained by simple invitations.

When your boss tells you that you fucked up, hold back the tears and the self-pity. Find the strength to smile and nod. Know that you have a team rooting for you to succeed. Use “thank you,” as often as you can in difficult conversations.

Try everything at least once. But don’t be afraid to say no as often as needed.

Finally, greet each day with a grumble and then a strong cup of coffee. Let your morning commute feed light into your day. Don’t forget to acknowledge how far you’ve come and the sunrises that lie ahead.

 

All the best,

Zoe

Last week, America buried a president. This week, America seems to watch alongside as another digs his own grave.

The life and legacy of George H.W. Bush gave pause for reflection. Combat veteran, seasoned diplomat, and a bureaucrat of Swiss watch precision. An imperfect man, like his son, the 43rd president, who offered a eulogy filled with emotion and grief that nearly every person can relate to. He lost a father and we lost a president, and for an instant they were the same.

President Bush was remarkable for his intelligence, remembered for his trust, and praised for his leadership. The presidential aircraft brought the former navy pilot from Texas to Washington and back to Texas. He rode a train from Houston to College Station and was laid to rest with his daughter Robin and wife Barbara. The end of a long journey that spanned the greatest years of this country and shaped the global order.

For those of us that have yet to enjoy the good fortune of going to be with Jesus, we find an administration in chaos and a West Wing in disarray. On a recent talk show, I heard a panelist wonder if the word “extraordinary” can possibly be overused to describe the Trump presidency. Plea deals upon indictments that compel grand juries to issue subpoenas for witness testimony from conversations had with some prick named Individual 1. Hot Damn!

The funeral of Poppy Bush gave us all a moment – One Fucking Moment – that was not about the executive Twitter or second rate gossip. A sense of normalcy returned for approximately two hours while the chief grease ball was sequestered from doing anything too stupid. He sat in defiance and discomfort as mourners championed the attributes of #41, no doubt contemplating the crowd size for his own memorial service.

Hearing of true love and honest politics made my heart warm, made me think of a steaming bowl of savory Beef Stew. The soul of the nation lives in men like that. Good fathers and mothers, good sailors and civil servants; people for whom good is not good enough. “Kinder and gentler,” as one epitaph said, were the politics of George H.W. Bush.

President Trump is on a near certain path to criminal prosecution and he can’t even summon enough energy to utter a self-satisfied whoop. His stew is thick and he keeps adding cornstarch and molasses and I think some peanut butter. I wish I could tell the man to stop digging; six feet is plenty!

Good Grief,

Daniel J. Neebes

A letter from an aging man to anybody who will listen:  Life is not a race but a journey….yes most people are impatient.  God knows I was when I was younger, but as one gains experience you tend to look back and become reflective.  Well here is my reflection.  Everything I have done in my life and yes that includes twirling dough to make pizzas has increased my knowledge base.  So for those just starting out in the 9-5 take pride in whatever you do! Learn from it, attack it with the same gusto as any difficult problem you would in your life.  Because it is in the mundane that true character shows up.  I had the opportunity to work with some great people and one that I remember is a woman who was a Colonel in the Marine Corp and head of HR. I am going to refer to her as Bad Ass Marine (BAM). One day when I got my nerve up, did I mention she was a BAM, I asked her a question and this is how the conversation went:

Me: “Why is it that you only hire college graduates and start them off on the lowest possible spot on the totem pole?”

BAM:  “We like to promote from within and if we give you a simple task and if you totally mess it up how are we going to trust you with more difficult problems. Plus if you mess it up and don’t take ownership it reflects on leadership ability and character.  Everyone makes mistakes it is how they are handled and resolved that matters most.”

Me:  ”But you have all these intelligent people fresh out of college that want to do the hard stuff right away”

BAM:   “Are you willing to do the dirty, mundane, simple work and do it well to get where you want to go?  It goes directly to character!”

Me:  ”gotcha!”

That was 30 years ago….I think it still holds true today.

Signed,

Borg King of the Universe

 

Not to be redundant seeing as the title says it all, but fuck it: “Hey, hi, how are ya?” How have you been, its been a long time. No really, how have you been? We haven’t caught up in some time, what has this past year had in store for you? Oh please, don’t give me some platitude, or a smile saying: “I’m doing well,” when deep down you really just want to scream about that thing Richard did at work the other day. I want to know about what Richard did, that piece of shit.  Tell me, truthfully, unequivocally, HOW ARE YOU?

Okay fine, I’ll go first. Recently I’ve been fantastic, been hitting the gym and eating right for the most part-the Taco Bell down the street from my apartment is really testing me. I’m in the waning days of my college career, about a week and a half left at the time of this writing, and I’m filled with a feeling that I can’t really describe. It is definitely not elation-which is odd you would think I would be happy to be done. It isn’t sadness, nor confusion, maybe its me being awed by the unknown. For about 16 years I’ve had a straight path and goal in mind: go to college and graduate. Now the track is coming to an end, and I now need to provide more rails in order to keep going, oh and I have to determine the direction of track too-which surely will have all kinds of twists and turns because I love being topsy turvy.

Yet, I don’t walk this road alone (Hey Alexa play Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day). I get to share this adventure with my friends, family, and the WILBlog community. I’m excited for the trials, laughter, joy, anguish, dread, happiness, sadness, elation and turmoil to come. In short: I’m excited for life-which is something I couldn’t have said with 100% confidence a year ago. I’m excited, because I get to share it with all of you.

So, if you would like to share something about your corner of the world on this blog, or just want to let me know how you’re doing, write something up and send it to officialwilbblog@gmail.com. I would love to learn and catch up with those that I’ve gotten to know but haven’t talked to in a while. Always look on the bright side of life, everyone.

Signed,

Mitch

Dear Dan,

I hope the Atlanta weather is treating you nicely, in fact it is probably cooler than it is here in Michigan. We’ve been graced (read: punished) with 90 degree days here in central Michigan, and frankly I don’t know what to do with myself. I am not prepared for this kind of weather. The leaves are changing, but I’m sweating buckets and this disturbs me. As a fellow life long Michigander I’m sure you can relate: THIS IS NOT NORMAL. But whatever WILB, WILB right?

Anyway, now that we’ve gotten the awkward weather small talk out of the way, school is just as you would expect. Long days followed by equally long nights because I didn’t get as much done as I had hoped, and then comes the weekend. That fickle fickle weekend with all of its festivities–and still you don’t get everything done that you wanted to get done. Regardless of that, though, I am doing wonderful (even though there has been some sarcasm preceding this I am being sincere…no really I am).

The process of finding time to write is still just that, a process. But we are making it work.    Tomorrow is JMC Madhouse which will be exciting, even though I am a little bit nervous. Regardless, I am going to go and I am going to share and it is going to be amazing damnit!

This is the part where we get a little sentimental. I miss your cooking, and just generally your presence in the kitchen. The moving to and fro knowing exactly what your doing next, as if cooking was a chess game and the opponent was the unknowing recipient that will get their queen taken in two turns after having eaten your food and will need a drink and a nap afterward to recover from such an ass kicking (did that chess analogy make sense? Share the piece if you think it didn’t).

I’m sure the folks in Atlanta are loving the food that you grace them with and with all the humor they get to witness without paying a dime (those bastards). Keep doing your think my friend and keep moving forward. The world doesn’t stop for any of us and we shouldn’t stop for the world.

Keep it groovy,

Titchell Mimmerman

P.S. ….and it was good