I’m busy typing at the coffee shop but the conversation going on with the newcomers to my left pluck me out of my fiction and into the real world.
The woman was catching up with her father. So I gathered because she asked, “What do you drink, Dad?”
“Black coffee.”
“Cream? Do you want a little cream?”
“No, black.”
They sat and talked. Her healthcare premiums were going up. That’d forced her to change insurance coverage, reducing it to reduce her monthly costs. That meant getting less insurance. Her deductible would now be $9,000 for her. Only her. Her monthly payment now would be $448 a month. She discussed the notices she’d received about her reduced subsidy now dictated by the Big Beautiful Bill.
Dad commiserated. Mentioned, you’re like one of those on television, facing tough choices because of the new bill. Lamenting that the legislators won’t take it up.
Then she said, “Thank God I’m healthy.”
I bit my tongue. Wondered about their politics. Shrugged.
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
I am again mystified. This isn’t shoutitfromtheroof news. I’m often mystified.
I know I mystify others, too. Especially my wife. She often avoids asking questions to clarify, preferring to express her doubts and confusion with her facial expressions. I used to ask her, “What’s that look for?” when I was young. I don’t make those inquiries these days.
My mystification is again with other people. Specifically, other drivers. They often mystify me. Cars stop four car lengths back from the car in front of them. “Why do they do that?” I ask myself and my wife. We laundry list reasons for fun. It’s not satisfying because I never know the real answer.
Other driving aspects which mystify me is the lack of adherence to speed limits. It’s not that I’m worried about speeding. I speed. No, the other drivers’ weird behavior in regards to speed limits trigger me. “It was thirty-five,” I tell my wife. “And they were going thirty. Now it’s a twenty-five miles an hour limit and they’re still going thirty.”
“I think most drivers don’t pay attention,” my wife says.
I agree with her in principle, but I don’t know. That bugs me.
The latest driving mystery involves turn signals. “I’ve noticed a new trend,” I tell my wife. “People are coming to a traffic light, stopping at the red light, but if they’re turning, they’re not putting on their turn signals before until they start to turn. Why do they do that? Don’t they understand what a turn signal is about?”
“Maybe they forgot where they’re going,” my wife says.
That’s possible. But I don’t know. That bugs me.
Returning from the library the other day, she rushed in and said, “You’re right. I had three different drivers not turn on their turn signal until they began turning. What’s going on? Why are they doing that?”
“Right?” I respond. I’m very pleased.
It’s always good to have someone else join your party.
We’ll discuss (almost) everything at Mom’s house (the off-limit topics are known by all even though they’ve never been discussed). So it was that we talked about toilet paper. Somehow I ended up telling Mom about the toilet paper caddy that hangs on the cistern’s side at my house so we always have another roll available.
“Doesn’t it get wet when you flush?” Mom asked.
“No.” I was puzzled.
She continued, “When you flush, water, particles, and germs go all over the place.”
“I know,” I answered. “Don’t you close the lid before you flush?”
“No,” she replied.
“Anyway,” I asked, “what’s that have to do with the toilet paper getting wet? With all that stuff flying around, I’d be more worried about what’s going into my mouth and nostrils or coating my skin.” I told her about an article I read about flushing toilets a few months ago and the plume effect. (I was researching, and one thing just led to another.) Those researchers concluded,
The particles primarily traveled upward and backward toward the wall behind the toilet, but some also moved chaotically in other directions. Once airborne, some particles traveled up to the ceiling, then spread out along the wall and into the room, the researchers noted.
Happy Call of the Horizon Day! Call of the Horizon Day is held every year on July 9. In 2021, we find it on a Friday. Go find the horizon. For me, it’s going outside, onto the street, and looking north. There it is, defined by the beginning of the mountains that define our valley. Call of the Horizon Day is about renewal. It’s a refresher for resolutions and projects, plans and dreams. Look at that horizon and think, who am I? What do I want? Half the year is gone. When I look back on 2021, what do I want to see. Sort of a turn on beginning with the end in mind.
The end of daylight today comes at 8:49 PM. While it’s currently 66 degrees F, we expect a hot 99 high. If you’ve been out since sunrise at 5:43 and felt the sun’s heat thrust in our area, you know it’ll be a hot one. But the sky is free of wildfire smoke (knock on wood). As everything is crisping and vegetation is browning, locals (including this lad) are hoping our wildfire luck continues to hold.
Musically, I’m streaming “Mr Jones” by the Counting Crows, circa 1993. Yes, it’s dream related. Dreams were all about conversations being struck up. I dubbed it the conversation dream.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Cheers
“Rim of the World.” She’d spoken without preamble. They’d been quiet for about ten minutes.
Breakfast plates were spread around the table in front of her, along with a cup on a saucer and a silver teapot. Appearing about sixty, she was looking at an iPad.
A man, about her age, sat to her right reading a newspaper. He said, “That’s a Netflix show.”
“It’s on Netflix,” she said.
“I just said that. It’s science fiction.”
“It’s about some kids.”
“I know. I took a look at a trailer and added it to my list. I’ve been thinking about watching it.”
“It’s science fiction.”
“I know. I just said that.”
“Maybe we ought to watch it. It sounds like something we’d like.”
He flipped his paper and turned the page. “I’ll check it out.”
Michael Seidel, writer 