Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Don’t know what’s in my water. Dreams continue rolling through me. This one featured a deceased but appreciated and missed Uncle. Died of a brain tumor ’bout a decade ago or so. He was one of those people who always demonstrated belief in what I could do and pride in when I do things, a good person to have around when you’re young and feeling your way.
We were at a celebration. Seemed to be a family birthday party. My uncle was hosting. He was young, energetic, and charming, the perpetual image contained in my memories of him, sunglasses covering his eyes, teeth clamped on a cigar. Don’t know who the party was for. Seemed like cousins were there. Weird thing is, it seemed to be held in a Japan or Mexico.
It came time for the cake. That was prepared for a local bakery. My uncle asked if anyone could pay for it. Yes, I volunteered; I can. I scrambled to find the money, just $25. Impatiently, he left, and went to get the cake. Finding the money at last, I rushed after him, encountering him as he left the store. “I have the money,” I told him.
“Too late,” he replied. “I paid.”
He seemed sad, disappointed. I suggested that I could pay the shopkeeper and he could give my uncle his money back. The shopkeeper, watching and listening in this tiny establishment, agreed. No, my uncle decided. It’d be too complicated. What’s done is done.
End
Starbucks hurt my feelings.
They spent capital convincing us that Starbucks cared about the community. More, they cared about people. They opened their doors to homeless folks. Come in and rest. Be safe, comfortable, warm, dry, cool. Charge your phones here! Use our restrooms! We care! They put out announcements telling us that they want people to come and stay, make it a place to meet, a place to be. And we believed them. We did.
As did the homeless. I’d see them trickle in each day, a regular group I came to know by name. I learned their preferred seating locations, treated them to food and/or drink from time to time, said hello, chatted about the hot dry days, the freezing fog, the traffic, dogs, etc. Chatted about life.
Then Starbucks swiveled. That campaign wasn’t reaping the benefits they’d hoped to get. Within days, the restroom doors were locked and coded. Had to ask for the number at the counter. The homeless were politely shooed out, police called if they resisted.
Then, though, oh, look at the numbers. Starbucks decided they needed to close the place they’d encouraged us to make a home away from home, a community center for everyone and anyone. It just wasn’t making enough money.
It feels like it’s a betrayal. It’s not. Just business as usual. And that’s the thing about corporations. It’s all about making money. Profits and losses.
It’s not about humanity. That’s just strategy. Don’t let them fool you into thinking otherwise.
Another cold morning, although that stuff is relative. Cold for us for December 2, 2025, is 32 F on awakening. Climbed to 39 F now. Been sunny and clear all morning on this frosty Twozda. Looking for a high in the low to mid 50s.
Read that Trump fired some immigration judges in New York. They’ve probably been following the law and ruling in accordance with same, following rules of evidence and procedures, and going by precedence. All that is a no-no in Trump’s alter reality where his rule is law in accordance with standard playground rules where he’s the bully who gets to say what’s what. Judges are suing him for wrongful termination, adding to his stress levels. COSTCO is also suing the Trump Regime for the tariffs. COSTCO ate the tariffs instead of passing them on; now they want Deceiving Donny’s regime to pay back the tariffs because they were illegally declared and collected. Besides that, TACO is still sweating out Epstein files details, faces declining popularity due to rising prices, persistent failures, has had his attorneys general declared illegal, lost some court cases, and is using words or doing things that are finally pushing Republicans to say, “Enough.” Glad they’re starting to catch up. The rest of us have been shouting, “Enough,” since 2016.
WordPress tells me my stats are booming! Again. This seems to happen every seven to ten days, starting a few months back. I suspect bots seeking commentary on Trump. Don’t know who’s sending the bots or what they’ll do with the information they collect. So far, it just intermittently drives up my traffic.
The music today comes by way of convo with my wife. This is in conjunction with discussing something we were talking about buying. As part of the conversation, there was discussion about driving to a place that’s not real close but not real far, you know? Far enough that it’ll take gas and time but not so far that we’d need to stay overnight. Anyway, in this day and age, the alternative is to go online. So it was a question of “Do we want to go all that way?” Yes, we are essentially lazy.
Anyway, catching the surface vibes, The Neurons responded with a song from the 1970s by a group called the Raspberries, “Go All the Way”. The conversation was late last night but the song is stuck in the morning mental music stream. Found an interesting video of the song being ‘performed’. Looked like a classic lip-syncing event on The Mike Douglas Show. Wow, remember it?
The vocalist is Eric Carmen. After the band broke up, he went on to a successful solo career. Remember “Hungry Eyes” and “All By Myself”? Same guy. He also co-wrote “Almost Paradise”. He died in 2024, 74 years old.
Got my coffee in me and it’s time to rock on. Peace and grace aren’t here yet, but it could be the cold keeping them away. Maybe if I travel to somewhere warmer, I’ll find them there. But I’m not up to a trip today. Here we go. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 