Looking back fondly (and otherwise) on the year that was, 2018

2018 was an odd year for me. I spent most of the year dealing with a seemingly endless series of problems. The kind of problems that takes months to deal with, and you have to jump through 20 hoops before you resolve them.  And as soon as I resolved one problem, two other problems would pop up. It was that kind of year. I don’t know if it’s because the world is getting more complicated. Or I’m getting stupider. . .  Probably both.

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I started the year like I ended it. Toasting in the year.
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Scaredy Cat’s second litter of kittens pops up at my campsite. Hurston, Thurston, and Micro Scaredy.
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In the world of sports, Tom Brady and the New England Patriots come up just short in their quest for another Super Bowl trophy.
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In the world of politics, against all odds, Trump manages to get through the second year of his term without getting his ass impeached.
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In the world of wingnuts, the wingnut formerly known as the Polka Dot Man became the XX Man.
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In one of those end-of-an-era moments, we locked up the shed that Hate Man had been occupying for the last 40 years for the last time, and returned the key to the building owner.
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In the world of politics, the thing I most remember about year 2018 was all the endless talk about the immigration issue. With half the country outraged about how Trump was handling it, and the other half wildly supportive.. . . And the other memorable thing was Year Two of the Mueller Investigation. With everyone waiting for the other shoe to drop. And again, half the country avidly hoping he gets nailed to the wall, while the other half hoping he skates.
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On the personal front, after slogging through the winter in cheap sneakers and wet soaks. I finally manage to get a good pair of winter boots, two weeks before the end of winter.
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By March, the three amigos — Hurston, Thurston, and Micro Scaredy — were already starting to grow by leaps and bounds.
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President Trump continued to make history with his historic tweets.
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Senator Elizabeth Warren released her DNA tests proving her Native American Indian heritage and put an end to that controversy once and for all.
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Hurston and Thurston Owl the Third exhibited some of their legendary cuteness. And it slowly dawned on me that the feral cat population at my campsite was on the verge of exploding out of control if I didn’t get off my ass and start dealing with it.
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Ace Backwords, pervert, caught in the act on film and becomes the latest casualty of the #MeToo movement.
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In a statistical oddity, I ended up finding big bags of pot on three different occasions during the year. And I don’t even smoke the shit. Causing me to wonder if they’re making the pot too strong these days, causing all the stoners to get too spaced out and lose their stash.
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On the weather front, it was a fairly mild winter in Berkeley. We only got about 15 inches of rain all year, about 10 below normal.
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In another one of those personal end-of-an-era moments, I moved out all the stuff I had been storing in the closet of this apartment for the last 23 years. And before that I had lived in the apartment for 13 years. So my 36 year connection to that old apartment finally came to an end.
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In 2018, UC Berkeley Chancellor Carol Christ and Berkeley Mayor Jesse Arreguin announced their joint plan to destroy People’s Park and build student housing on the site. Causing the People’s Park activists to spring into action in their efforts to save the Park.
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The People’s Park activists bring their message directly to the University.
 
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Scaredy Cat pops out her third litter. And I would spend the next three months struggling to trap and fix as many of the feral cats as I could.
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Probably my biggest accomplishment in year 2018 was getting Mini Scaredy fixed. She had already had two miscarriages, and probably would have kept on having multiple miscarriages — which can’t be healthy for a body — if I hadn’t taken care of it.
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After Scaredy Cat left my campsite to make a new nest for her new litter, in a surprise move, Mini Scaredy adopted as her own the three kittens from the previous litter.
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President Trump traveled to England to visit with the Royal Family.
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Over the summer I got the word that my father had cancer and there was nothing the doctors could do about it, and he probably only had about two more years to live. . . A couple weeks later he died.
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Bill and Hillary Clinton embarked on their eagerly-awaited national speaking tour.
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Telegraph Avenue legend, Julia “the Bubble Lady” Vinograd’s bubble finally burst in 2018.
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In September the assholes at the main Berkeley Post Office inexplicably locked me out of my P.O. Box, and for the next 4 months I’d be unable able to receive most of my mail. But finally — after jumping through a seemingly endless series of hoops — I was able to get a new P.O. Box somewhere else. VICTORY!! . . . It was that kind of year.
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In a surprise attack, the University snuck into People’s Park at 4 in the morning, like thieves in the dark of night, packing chainsaws. And destroyed 28 mostly completely healthy trees.
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Meanwhile, the feral cats ended the year pretty much like they started it, mostly slacking off.

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