A little antitrump to help us get through the week.



Trump said he was ‘sharper than I was 25 years ago.’ Then he spent an hour appearing to doze off – again












Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
A little antitrump to help us get through the week.















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
Let me tell you about the pants.
First, I’ll tell you about my typical summer wardrobe.
But first, a side path.
The side path is that I suffer from edema. Maybe it’s the lymphatic flavor. Medicos are out about the source and cause. Addressing it means I wear knee-high support hose. They work, help, however you want to put it. However, I’m a vain guy and don’t want to be seen wearing them outdoors.
My standard summer clothing choice since I was a small child are short pants, or shorts. I’m not going out in them while wearing my support house. I’ve seen folks out there in that combo. I admire their courage. Did I mention that I’m vain?
All this means I had a new challenge: what to wear when the sunshine and air conspire to push temperatures into the 80s, 90s, and 100s, as happens here in Ashlandia in the months between May and October. Jeans do not work for me. They feel hot, sweaty, and constricting.
My wife said, “You should wear joggers.”
Suspicions roused themselves. What was that? Joggers? I know what they are. I’ve seen young people in them. And women wear them. I’m not a young person or a woman. However…
I began sniffing around joggers. Looking for garments which will meet my needs. There are men’s joggers out there, but they often lack pockets. I like having pockets, especially those of the pouch type on my front thigh, where I can safely and comfortably deposit my wallet.
My search culminated at Costco. There, as if in answer to my hopes, were Wrangler Men’s Tech Pants. Made of synthetics, they met all my other needs, and were priced to move at $22. I put them into the cart and tried them on at home.
They fit. They’re comfortable. And they look good without attracting attention. I am not fond of attraction.
After wearing the black ones for a few days, I purchased them in grey and khaki. My vanity is appeased, and my wife is pleased with my appearance. All in all, a small win-win for me.
My wife and I were traveling. Astonishment took me when I realized we were driving a light green 1978 Mercedes Benz 280 SEL. Solid, dependable, comfortable, the car was like a tank. “That’s the same car we had in Germany,” I told my wife.
She didn’t notice. We were rushing and had stopped for shopping at Costco. With dream time, we leaped from talking while entering the store to being at the checkout register. A male manager rang us up. We were still actually shopping as that happened, with my wife hustling up with last minute additions.
Medicine and food were being rung up. The manager was urging us to hurry because it was time to close. We were going to be the last ones. My wife put a bag of food our box of purchases. Picking it up, I told the guy that we wanted another one, so ring it up again, and I told my wife to get one more. As she carried that up, the manager rang up the final bill: $610.
The total shocked us. I suggested putting things back and wondered how the total had become so high. Nothing expensive was in the box and there wasn’t a lot.
But we ended up saying, “Okay, let’s just pay and go because time is running out. We need to get on the road.”
End of dream.
I broke down. It was time. I knew it – I’ve known it for years. I needed new glasses.
The issues aren’t costs or worries about my eyes. I dislike taking time out of the day to go somewhere, wait for a person to see me, etc. I’m an impatient person who tries protecting my writing time and routines. I’m like a grizzly mama about those things. Writing time and routines are my cubs, to beat that simile to a final death. This is due to a lifetime of giving and serving others, what people call ‘employment’. I sacrificed my writing dream for others’ worries and concerns. This is now my time.
COVID did play a role. So did changing insurance coverage. I no longer had any vision plan. That went away when I left IBM in 2015. Putting a year to it and doing the math is a thump on the head; that much time has already passed. It is not conceivable. Seems like just yesterday that I was dragging my ass out of bed before the sunrise and logging in, calling in, and doing all the other things to ensure I was electronically tied to the company. My work for them had been remote for the final eight years. The final three, visits to company facilities were cut to nil due to slashes in travel funding.
A new optometrist was required, too, as the other one had disappeared. My wife’s friends raved about the one at Costco. I was skeptical but they said she was great. “Make sure you go to her, though, and not her father.” Okay. An appointment was made, and they were right. She was good, as far as I know. $69 for a new prescription. In and out in twenty minutes. I liked those elements.
“Well,” she said. “You have very healthy eyes and your vision has improved. You’re probably having problems with your old glasses, aren’t you?”
Yup.
“They’re way too strong for you.”
Well, that was great news. I told my wife. She seemed stunned. “Your vision is getting better?”
Yup.
She turned away, muttering something about fairness. I didn’t press. I had some idea of her comment.
I found and ordered new prescription sunglasses from Costco. Didn’t really need normal glasses, I felt. Don’t use them often. My wife muttered something else.
The glasses would cost $129, I was told after I’d gone through the process. Whoa, wait. “What about protective lenses and the reflective coating, and all that?”
“It’s all included.”
I can see so much better now with my new sunglasses, and they’re much more stylish. They’re relatively large, making my big head look a little smaller.
We all need whatever edge we can find.
We’ve begun our third week of isolation. Our state, Oregon, has done well on containment. As of today, we stand at 538 confirmed cases and 8 fatalities. No fatalities have been reported in my city, Ashland. Nineteen cases are reported for Ashland. Our city hospital been set up as a COVID-19 county treatment center for mild to moderate cases.
The first two weeks of being sequestered at home, we cleaned, inventorying supplies on hand and reviewing recipe and meal ideas.
(Okay, when I say, ‘we’, I’m using the couple we. My wife has done 99.9% of this. My input has been almost negligible.)
My wife suggested first in, first out eating practices. The oldest stuff should be consumed first, if we agree it seems edible.
I countered: we want to use our fresh produce so that it doesn’t go to waste.
A compromise was agreed: FIFO would be employed one day, and a fresh meal the next. Whenever we do a FIFO meal, we’d add fresh produce, if it made sense. Smoothies would be consumed each day.
It’s been going well. We were well-supplied with staples. My partner baked. A can of old pumpkin was sacrificed (along with old cream cheese and an extra sweet potato) to make a pumpkin roll and pumpkin muffins. A quarter was consumed; the rest were frozen for future eating.
She slices and freezes bananas that become overly ripe (they’re used in smoothies). But when we’d had a large supply of them established, she made us banana-pecan muffins. Again, a few were consumed, but most were frozen.
Vegan split-pea soup followed, then roasted vegetable soup. Each lasted us several days.
Along the way, we’d been eating salads, which is our long-established habit. As COVID-19 practices and projections took shape, we began thinking in longer terms. While grocery stores have taken precautions and special hours set aside for people like us (over sixty years old), they also report supply chain issues. My wife has RA and is considered vulnerable. She didn’t want us going out if we could avoid it. But more supplies were needed.
Enter Instacart.
I created an Instacart account and explored it. Instacart supports four chains in our area: Safeway, Albertson’s, Fred Meyers, and Costco.
Costco! That’s our go-to place.
First I logged into Costo.com to check supplies. Out. Out. Out. Out.
I figured that resupplies would eventually arrive. I made it a daily practice to check. Finally, on Friday, bingo, several items that we wanted were now available. We also wanted fresh produce, for example, romaine, blueberries, bananas, celery, potatoes. Ah, that was available, but only if we shifted the order to Instacart.
Prices were compared. One, shopping groceries online with Costco is more expensive than shopping at the warehouse. Kind of expected, and they weren’t gouging us. Two, prices with Instacart were just a little more. Three, you tip your Instacart shopper.
Okay. We discussed it. Seeing that our supplies were going down, that cases in Ashland were going up, that the whole situation was unstable and uncertain, we put an Instacart order in last Friday.
The process itself was simple and well-organized. In fact, I consider it one of the better online shopping experiences that I’ve gone through. I was never confused about what was happening. They would tell us immediately if an item wasn’t available in our zip code. With some items, such as eggs, they warned us that they were in short supply, and brought up options. Cool.
Next were delivery instructions. Well, we didn’t want to break them directly into the house. We couldn’t leave them outside, either. I came up with an option: move one of the cars out of the garage and set up a table in there. When they were in route, we’d open the garage. They’d put the stuff in there.
The garage usually runs 48 – 52 degrees F at this time of year. We were only ordering one frozen item and a few refrigerated items. We’d put ice on those things and let everything stay out there overnight. Then, we’d clean it off and put it away.
Once the plan was established, we entered those instructions into our order and selected a delivery time. Delivery times were two hour windows on Saturday. They began at 2 PM. Well, we weren’t going anywhere… We selected two to four PM.
The order was received and processed within minutes. The system told us that we could change it, removing or adding things, until shopping was underway. After considering it overnight, we decided some of the stuff we’d ordered was too much, and removed them.
Next came our first ‘issue’, and it as small one. Our delivery window was moved to Sunday morning, 11 AM. Bummer. We were looking forward to it coming on Saturday. With little else to do, we were sort of focused on that happening. Oh, well, though.
Time passed. On a whim, I checked on the order.
Gadzooks! It was on the way. According to the email, it’d be arriving in about ten minutes.
Scramble, scramble, scramble! We were dressed, but had to follow up on our receiving plan. That done, a few minutes later, the delivery arrived.
Alicia P was our shopper and delivery person. She had an assistant with her (he was driving, citing the changing weather conditions as his reason for being). Everything went off without a hitch. Only one item didn’t make it: pasta. We have some pasta. I’ll do another order for Albertson’s via Instacart this week to see if that can be ordered.
Instacart recommended a five percent tip, which worked out to just under nine dollars. I upped it to fifteen. I figured Alicia P deserved it, and it was cheap at that. I acknowledge, yeah, we’re lucky. We have the financial wherewithal to do this, a Costco is in range, and people like Alicia P are willing to work for Instagram under these conditions. And, yes, part of my reason for pushing my wife to do an order on Friday night was that Instacart drivers were talking about striking on Monday, 3/30. The other reason was that stuff was at Costco, but how much longer would it be there?
So, we’re set again.
I slipped outside for a few minutes, taking out the recycle and getting the mail. We decided we’d pick up the mail every Sunday morning.
It was balmy and drizzly, a lovely day for a walk, except for the hidden killer that could be lurking in the air. Sadly, I returned to the house via the garage and followed sanitizing precautions.
Hope you’re all doing well out there in webland. Good luck, and stay well.
Cheers
In Costco yesterday. It was a convenience stop for us. It’s down the Interstate, so if we go over there, we generally stop in. Nothing essential was required. We gassed up and bought mixed nuts looked at the books. Their book selection has significantly changed, and it’s disappointing to us.
Costco was busy despite its new ‘no food samples’ policy. Costco was ready for it with every register manned (and do you know that Costco now has self-checkout registers?). I heard at least three mothers tell their children, “Don’t touch anything. Keep to your hands to yourself.” Those are words I used to hear all the time, but had seemed to fade away as parenting styles changed. Was it always being said, and I missed it? Or was it being revived as part of Coronavirus awareness?
Saw perhaps a half dozen people (including employees) wearing gloves, and about five wearing masks. I wondered, thinking about the cancellations of multiple world events, the corporation’s shutdown on travel (airlines are losing money), what was going to be the effect on Costco’s stock? On the one hand, business is booming. On the other, the global supply chain on which it depends and the consumerism that fuels it are going to be slammed. (Costco and other corporations have already said they’re scrambling to find supplies, but where do you turn in a global crisis?)
At the intersection of these observations, R.E.M.’s 1987 release, “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” was released into my stream.
It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (time I had some time alone)
I feel fine (I feel fine)
After Costco, it was on to Trader Joe’s, where it was business as usual.
Renting videos to play at home had become a big thing while my wife and I were living in Japan in the early eighties. Much cheaper than the movies, it was also more convenient than going to a theater, standing in line, and sitting in uncomfortable seats. Renting videos were also excellent ways to help endure typhoons, as long as the power stayed on.
Blockbuster hit the American scene in 1985, but we were in Germany. We were impressed when we returned to America. At last, we could go to a convenient location and find a wide assortment of movies for a reasonable price.
We weren’t necessarily thrilled. My wife and I liked supporting small, independent video rental businesses in our area. But, sadly, they lacked good selections. Finding nothing there for us to rent, we grudgingly started renting our videos from Blockbuster.
Blockbuster’s ugly side was soon revealed as they treated us, the customers, like dirt. Greg Satell at Forbes magazine summed it up for us.
“Yet Blockbuster’s model had a weakness that wasn’t clear at the time. It earned an enormous amount of money by charging its customers late fees, which had become an important part of Blockbuster’s revenue model. The ugly truth—and the company’s achilles heel—was that the company’s profits were highly dependent on penalizing its patrons.”
The lines became ridiculously long at Blockbusters. A movie rented at one location couldn’t be returned to a different location. What had been fun, going to Blockbuster to rent a movie, lost its enjoyment. (It reminds me of how taking a flight across the country used to be and how it now is, with the airlines trying to suck pennies out of its customers for anything and everything.)
A pause to reflect on customer service and support. My wife and I have noticed that both have rapidly diminished in our experience, whether it’s with retail stores, Internet providers, rental places, airlines, hotels, newspapers, and utilities. What’s most telling is that if this topic is brought up at a gathering, everyone have stories to share about bad customers service and support. The one bright spot for us, and other agrees, have been Costco.
We’re holding our breath and have our fingers crossed that Costco doesn’t become like the rest.
When Netflix came along, we leaped on it. Creating a list online, we received DVDs in the mail, watched them, and mailed them back. Not everything we wanted to watch was immediately available, but it was a damn sight better than the Blockbuster experience.
Netflix has almost lost us over the years as we shifted to the streaming model and experienced price increases. I’ve left them twice for others, but the others soon took me for granted, and Netflix lured me back.
Right now, Netflix is barely hanging on to me. My wife and I don’t find much to watch, but we see the same pattern on Hulu, Amazon Prime, Britbox, Acorn, etc. There’s one or two enticing shows, a plethora of things that aren’t to our tastes, and then a huge offering of old movies and television series. In the end, the streaming experience has become much like the video experience, which, itself, became much like the cable television experience of, so many channels, nothing to watch. As for Blockbuster, much like VHS and Beta recordings, its star has waned.
Fortunately, we have books and computer games. I would mention Facebook and social media, but I’ve noticed a trend there…
It kind of reminds me of Blockbuster.
I knew heartbreak yesterday when, like many people, I was afflicted by shopping cart envy.
Oh, don’t deny that you haven’t experienced it in one form or another. You know what I’m talking about. Some of you have felt it when you’ve seen a cart filled with riches that you don’t have the money to buy. Others experience it when, like me, they look into another’s carts and see the stuff that you don’t eat because it’s not healthy for you, but you want to eat it.
I am a chronic sufferer of shopping cart envy these days. When I was younger, I could eat anything. Eating anything caught up with me as my activities and metabolism slowed and the speed of my waist line’s expansion increased. Ice cream, pizzas, burgers, milk shakes, sandwiches, steaks, cake, pie, doughnuts? Pass them over. Anyone want that last cruller? I’ll eat it.
Yes, I went through that period when I said, “I’m an adult. If I want to eat ice cream for breakfast, I will.”
Then I became, “I am an adult. What responsible adult eats ice cream for breakfast?”
Waistlines change. Diets change. Attitudes change. Yesterday, in Costco, I saw another man’s cart. He had a case of beer, cheesecake, a large pizza, and other treasures. I can’t describe more, as my mind went blank at the dazzling sight. I think I wandered, for the next thing I know, I was standing in a pool of my own saliva in the bakery section with a box of cookies in my hands.
I wasn’t alone.