Sigh
Jun. 14th, 2025 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Hamilton is playing in the background.
The lyrics feel ironic now. More so then they did in 2015, which is saying something I guess.
Particularly the Mad King's refrain:
I've considered getting tickets to see it live. But I'm not sure I can sit for three hours in those seats?
Slept fitfully at best. Sciatica down both legs was bothering me due to IBS issues. Doctor referred me to physical therapy - but there's little a physical therapist can do about a sciatica resulting from IBS and knee issues resulting from arthritis. (I should know - I've seen physical therapists five to six times, about every five years it seems, sometimes every two. Not even sure my insurance will cover it now.) I know which exercises to do. I have six different analgesic creams. No, my problem is IBS, which has pretty much always been my problem.
I feel this need, after being on various social media platforms this morning and yesterday, to remind folks to be mindful, to be kind, and just because they can walk about and march and protest, doesn't mean everyone can or feels capable of it. There's something about posting on the internet that brings the self-righteous bully out in folks? I get that we may to persuade everyone to join us? But be mindful that not everyone can do the same things.
Found this excellent piece of advice on Face Book:

Yesterday, while taking my walk at lunch - largely to walk out the sciatic nerve and cricks in my knees and legs - I stumbled upon a large crowd hollering and clapping and cheering in front of the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. This area attracts a lot of New York Street Performers - due to the fact that it is a large and for the most part unencumbered plaza.
So I found a portion of the crowd that was rather thin, and less rambunctious, and peer through the people to see what was happening. At the center of the crowd was a little girl, pale freckled skin, pink palsy shirt, and jeans, bent over and very still. Brownish blond hair sweeping down on either side of her face. She moved every once and a while, to lift her head. People were clapping near her, and there was a line of white men of varying sizes and ages lined up in her realm of vision - they may have been family members, most had beards, and were relatively young and sturdy and looked for the most part like tourists. Next to them was a man with dreadlocks, dark skin, and bright colored red and orange and black t-shirt and shorts, clapping and getting them to clap as well. As the crowd complied and clapped as well, cheering, music roared to life, and then another man in dreadlocks and a similar outfit, ran and did an acrobatic flip over the little girl's head.
I cringed, and walked away. Unsettled. I'm certain they wouldn't hit her - or come close. She's probably perfectly safe. But I found the whole thing oddly unsettling all the same.
Off to do stuff. Here's a picture:

The lyrics feel ironic now. More so then they did in 2015, which is saying something I guess.
Particularly the Mad King's refrain:
I've considered getting tickets to see it live. But I'm not sure I can sit for three hours in those seats?
Slept fitfully at best. Sciatica down both legs was bothering me due to IBS issues. Doctor referred me to physical therapy - but there's little a physical therapist can do about a sciatica resulting from IBS and knee issues resulting from arthritis. (I should know - I've seen physical therapists five to six times, about every five years it seems, sometimes every two. Not even sure my insurance will cover it now.) I know which exercises to do. I have six different analgesic creams. No, my problem is IBS, which has pretty much always been my problem.
I feel this need, after being on various social media platforms this morning and yesterday, to remind folks to be mindful, to be kind, and just because they can walk about and march and protest, doesn't mean everyone can or feels capable of it. There's something about posting on the internet that brings the self-righteous bully out in folks? I get that we may to persuade everyone to join us? But be mindful that not everyone can do the same things.
Found this excellent piece of advice on Face Book:

Yesterday, while taking my walk at lunch - largely to walk out the sciatic nerve and cricks in my knees and legs - I stumbled upon a large crowd hollering and clapping and cheering in front of the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. This area attracts a lot of New York Street Performers - due to the fact that it is a large and for the most part unencumbered plaza.
So I found a portion of the crowd that was rather thin, and less rambunctious, and peer through the people to see what was happening. At the center of the crowd was a little girl, pale freckled skin, pink palsy shirt, and jeans, bent over and very still. Brownish blond hair sweeping down on either side of her face. She moved every once and a while, to lift her head. People were clapping near her, and there was a line of white men of varying sizes and ages lined up in her realm of vision - they may have been family members, most had beards, and were relatively young and sturdy and looked for the most part like tourists. Next to them was a man with dreadlocks, dark skin, and bright colored red and orange and black t-shirt and shorts, clapping and getting them to clap as well. As the crowd complied and clapped as well, cheering, music roared to life, and then another man in dreadlocks and a similar outfit, ran and did an acrobatic flip over the little girl's head.
I cringed, and walked away. Unsettled. I'm certain they wouldn't hit her - or come close. She's probably perfectly safe. But I found the whole thing oddly unsettling all the same.
Off to do stuff. Here's a picture:
