The headlines:
Judge threatens Trump with jail over gag order violations
Judge fines Trump $9,000, threatens jail for contempt in hush money trial
The response:
“Do it! Do it! Lock him up! Lock him up!”
The irony would be delicious.
Floofbit (2)
Floofbit (floofinition) – An animal who seems to have a job to make people get up and move around. Origins: 2007, Ohio, United States, Facebook
In Use: “When her son suggested that Karla needed a Fitbit to remind her to move, she pointed to her young dogs and replied, ‘Don’t worry, I got Crockett and Tubbs to keep me moving.’ As if that was a cue, Tubbs sprang up and started barking and racing around, which naturally drew Crockett into the vortex, and made Karla get up and go to the back door, yelling, ‘You two take that into the backyard.'”
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Mood: Goodbut
I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.
I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.
“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.
With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.
Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.
Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.
The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.
The weather is this. Yeah-but.
POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.
Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.
Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.
Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 