Good afternoon. Getting around a little late to this posting today. I dibble and dabbled the morning away, dashing up and down the Interstate and around town during late morning and early afternoon before returning home for naps and reading for a few hours.
It’s November 11, 2023, Saturday and Veteran’s Day. Awoke to a new battle between a feeble sun trying to crawl through chilly gray fog to reach us. Finally worked after a few hours, lifting us from about forty up to a skin scorching 55 F. Bazinga.
As we went zipped about town today, we had lunch and then began joking about our energy levels. “We used to be younger,” my wife and I teased one another. Yes, we used to be crazy, and we used to be fun. Now we’re prudent from mistakes made and lessons learned. Well, with happenstance, we turned off NPR games to pop on the car’s FM radio, and there was Miley Cyrus, repeating our words back at us.
We laughed and my spouse mentioned how much she enjoys the Miley Cyrus song, “Used To Be Crazy”, which came out earlier in 2023. And then I started wondering, when exactly did we start talking about when we were young? I think it was when I was in my forties, which is now about twenty years ago, depending on where the marker in my forties is thrown down, but I can’t verify it without a time machine. But how often do we mourn the passage of our youth and the new people which we end up being? We reflect on how our metabolism drops lower and lower, and with it often goes our energy levels, and maybe our attention levels. I also mourn hair loss and how many body shape has change, and oh, yeah, that hair has grayed and thinned. Were wrinkles mentioned? I forget.
I won’t say that I’ll never be the person I used to be. Techology may surprise us in new ways, like cloning a new version of Michael that I can inhabit with life memories and acquired knowledge intact, which could be pretty cool. Or perhaps an invention that comes along which washes out old cells and blows us out clean and fresh once again, even tailoring the result into which age we’ll like to be. I think I’d like to be 32 again.
Oh, well. This is the shit that is us, and such is life.
Stay positive, be strong and brave, and keep leaning forward. This concludes this portion of my posting day. Here’s the video. Cheers
I ended up talking to the baristas about my hair this morning. The conversation launched off their casual question, “What do you have going on today?” I mentioned that I needed to have my hair cut.
Showing sympathy and politeness, they talked about their own hair woes. Then one barista mentioned that he has one part of his hair that always flips up. Drives him crazy.
“A cowlick,” I answered, adding, “I have one, too.”
The young baristas stared at me. “A cowlick?” one repeated for the group.
I laughed hard from the blank look accompanying the question, and then explained the expression, learned from Mom when I was a young boy.
Friday has dropped in for its weekly visit, a little jaunty and restless, lookin’ for something to do.
It’s November 10, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the duck ponds are quiet and the park is still. 44 F now, sunshine has dropped it down a notch but still holds the sky, though high thin white clouds lurk, contemplating the valley, planning some kind of mood. Today’s high temperature will theoretically beat the mid to high eighties. Something similiar was rolled out yesterday but with the fog giving us a long, tight hug, it took a long time for the mid fifties to be breached. By then, the sun was beginning to take its shine elsewhere and close for the day.
In a bright spot for today, just 45 days until Christmas.
We had a good laugh the other night in my beer clatch, reminiscing about Trumpisms DJT blurted during his trial. Favorite among the ten of us hands down was his comment talking about why he didn’t receive (accounting) statements in 2021, “I was so busy in the White House with China, Russia, and keeping the country safe.” Wallace, the prosecuting attorney questioning him, “You were not the president in 2021.”
In another bizarre moment, Trump wrote, “Got a really Biased, Nasty, Club controlled, but often overturned, Judge, a Racist, Evil, and Corrupt Attorney General, BUT A CASE THAT, ACCORDING TO ALMOST ALL LEGAL SCHOLARS, HAS ZERO MERIT. A dark day for our Country. WITCH HUNT!”
The CAPS are all his because, like a child throwing a tantrum, he likes shouting. But I agree with him, it’s a dark day for the country, when day after day, Trump is out there spouting crap without evidence, making dramatic declarations with little basis in reality. A lot of it seems projection by Trump about the things he does, trying to pin it on others; we have evidence of Trump being biased, nasty, racist, evil, and corrupt, willing to pursue witch hunts. I think he shows himself to be these things every day.
But what’s saddest and makes it darkest for us is how many people continue supporting him. Of course, it’s not about the bible, nor truth. The majority of Trump supporters aren’t interested in democracy or this nation; these fascists are about keeping their man and party in power so they can glean whatever pathetic privileges and rights they can muster over others, to prop up their tiny minds and retro view of the world. Rachel Maddow was talking about that in an interview about her new book, Prequel.
With all this being thought about, The Neurons furnished the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking) with The Doors and “People Are Strange”. Seems apt when I’m thinking about Trump and the MAGAs and Republicans who support him.
Stay pos, be real and strong, and keep leaning forward. Here we go, launching into the waves of the day. Enjoy the music, please. I will as I sip some hot, fresh coffee. Cheers, my friends. Cheers
It started with the quote in the graphics on the coffee shop tip jar and the question, “Who wrote this?”
I admitted, I didn’t know it, though The Neurons declared that they knew it and would deliver the author’s name if I just gave them more time. Already shifting into my own writing mode, I rebuffed their request.
Two days later, the situation has been modified. Now, the quote is above two tip jars. On one jar, it says, “Taylor Swift” while the other is annotated, “Shakespeare”. Apparently,
It’s Shakespeare, of course, Sonnet 65, which The Neurons again insisted they could have told me if I’d given them some time to think. Meanwhile, the baristas informed me that several customers guessed it was Taylor Swift. Hence, the change.
I admire this sonnet:
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o’er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? O fearful meditation! where, alack, Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid? Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back? Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? O, none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Thursday, November 9, 2023, has come to have its say in what happens and how it happens with little clear explanation about why it happens. Many people like muddying the clarifications about why things happen because they dislike those explanations. Angers them because they can’t grasp the explanation, so if they can’t understand, why should anyone else? Shut it down; hide it; don’t teach it. Make it a mystery, so they can smugly say, “Nobody knows.”
Down to 34 last night in Ashlandia, where the schools are first rate and the arts and athletics are above average, it’s forty and foggy now as frost covers the bare ground and glazes some grasses. Don’t you worry, though; partly sunny skies will see us through to 57 F by daylights end. The remains of the day will deliver us back into darkness and 37 F.
When I awoke this morning, I opened a window blind. Soft dawn was crawling white through the trees and across the yard. Among the denuded poplar branches, a hummingbird hovered for a few seconds and then zinged away.
The hummingbird’s appearance surprised me. Cold, mid-autumn, winter hustling toward us, I figured hummingbirds would have better places to be.
Meanwhile, Tucker the magnificent (which is the mixed long-haired/short-haired cat’s official title) rose, ate, used the litter box, and went back to bed. Papi, the ginger blade feline floof, went out, declared it too cold, came in, declared himself bored, went back out, declared it too cold, came in, declared himself bored, went out, declared it too cold…get it?
I was outside at midnight last night. Clouds and moon were absent, letting the stars and other celestial bodies take a turn at shiny. Beautiful and serene with clear fresh air, but the black night was hugely cold to my body, driving me into my shelter after just five minutes of standing outside and thinking.
Somewhere in the night, I thought about the GOP – Right Wing – MAGA approach to governing and education. Limitations are the key the their approach. They will not accept anything being taught except what they like and understand as history, which is very, very narrowly defined. Their version of history must not show our nation or white people in a dark light. Our nation is good, because, come on, it’s christian, you know, one god, and all that, as the Founding Fathers so ordered, amIright? In their view, slavery was a good thing: sure people were locked up, traded, and beaten, but they were taught trades and given food and shelter. Surely that’s enough, so don’t dare teach that slaveowners were cruel bastards who often raped slave women and treated slaves worse than animals, unworthy of human rights.
It seems like they take the same approach to anything other than two sexes, male and female, whether it’s in gender or sexual preference. That’s what the bible says, they say, so they must be right.
They only want – no, they only accept – one religion, their version of christianity, and their god, a white, benevolent man who knows everything and is the only deliverer of knowledge, justice, and love. Such a god can’t have ideas about other religions and philosophies, so they can’t be taught because they’re not in their religious book, and their tiny minds can’t brook anything other than what their little black book says, even if they only follow the parts of the little black book that THEY like. Screw the rest of that silly, ancient black book, they decide by action, even if they won’t say it. Like, what’s that whole thing about loving thy brother, turning the other cheek, and that whole thing about bankers and rich men being in the temples and entering ‘the kingdom of heaven?’
“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” But, but, capitalism! We are a christian nation, and can’t have rules and regulations which limit our abilities to exploit others and grow wealthier. We’re Capitalists!
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.”
I’m sure wealthy Americans plan to do that after they die, right? Until then, they will donate to charities which support their principles to grow wealthier, as long as it’s tax deductible.
Meanwhile, it’s not the government’s job to take care of anyone else, not in our christian nation. No! That encourages laziness. If they’re lazy, they won’t work for others for low pay so companies and the wealthy can make more money. No, no, no. And if companies pay them too much, then the companies will make less profit, and the shareholders will make less money, and the rich executives won’t be able to collect larger bonuses and buy more beautiful, pretty things for themselves, like mansions, vacation homes, jets, cars, and yachts. So pay for the lower classes must be kept low, for so it’s written in the bible…innit?
It all falls back on education then. Limit what is taught or don’t teach them at all beyond the basics of following instructions. That’s all that’s needed.
All that has me and The Neurons singing Pink Floyd’s mashup from The Wall in the morning mental music stream (Trademark unavoidable). See, the way it goes in The Neurons’ view, the Right Wing dictates and limits what will be taught in school, threatening the school systems and teachers with punishment if they don’t adhere and obey (exhibit A: Florida; B: Texas; C: Wisconsin. Etc.). They want perfect little white children (some blacks might be acceptable, as long as they adhere to the doctrine), all male or female – and nothing else because the bible! (And then they descend into lies about what those ‘other’ so-called sexes do, and how evil they are.) Because, see, they don’t understand. And if they don’t understand, they can’t accept. And if they can’t understand and accept, why should anyone else?
Under the GOP plan, aided by the misnamed “Moms for Liberty” who are all about censorship, which as Matthew Perry imight have said as Chandler Bing on Friends, “Can anything be more anti-liberty than stopping what other people read?”, schools become mills to turn out perfectly ignorant, intolerant, non-thinking little images of their white, bible-thumping masters. And the teachers will be the ones molding these little monsters of tomorrow, so long as the teachers adhere to the doctrine, don’t think, and obey the rules, which they will, or the GOP will beat, intimidate, and incriminate the teachers.
Because anything other than the GOP curriculum is ‘woke’, and that’s communist, socialist, thought control.
See how they turn it on its head? It’s no wonder that the GOP and its christians put its greatest faith in trying to build walls.
Stay positive and woke, be strong, and lean forward for others’ rights and freedoms as well as your own. Coffee is now at hand and warming my innards. Here’s the video.
Bit behind schedule today. Arriving in my office with a fresh cup of coffee this morning, I peered out the window. The sun was highlighting blue skies over green, yellow, gold, and scarlet autumn leaves. Under it all across the street was an enormous, beautiful light brown buck, blacktail, with a large set of antlers. He was standing in the neighbor’s front yard across the street, not stirring much except to flip his tail or to look one way or another.
It’s rutting season, though, so I knew what was up. Expanding my watch (in other words, lowering blinds, leaning forward, and turning my head), I spotted a doe busy eating in dense foliage beneath a giant old oak tree. She was about twenty-two feet from the buck. After a few minutes, she drifted out of her spot and across the yard, sometimes nibbling, passing seven feet from the buck. He paid little attention, so I wondered if he was standing guard against an intruder. I didn’t see one, though.
The doe crossed the driveway and into another blind of bushes and trees. I saw her turn and go between two houses, heading towards the Talent irrigation ditch. Only then did the buck turn and stroll after her.
Show wasn’t over folks, just taken to the next scene. All told, I watched for fifteen minutes, just enjoying nature on a sunny, fall day.
Michael Seidel, writer 