Sundaz Wandering Political Thoughts
Just catching up on the news, trends, and truths.
The Boyfriend
Five things about sis-in-law’s boyfriend.
I’ve known my sister-in-law for over fifty-five years. We get along great. She’s been married three times, has two children, and has had three boyfriends that I’ve met. She’s also a successful businesswoman. I wasn’t sure what to expect from her new BF, Norm. We had learned little about him. Here are the results.
- A Florida resident for most of his life, he still lives there, but now in a Key West condo. Originally moved there from western Pennsylvania when he was twelve years old in 1967. We found out he lived in the same general area as me when both of us lived in Pennsylvania as boys. A year plus older, we ended up with much in common via classic rock and musical preferences, along with politics. He’s not much of a reader, but he believes, as I do, that Justified is an excellent TV show. Married twice, with a son and daughter and a granddaughter, along with four sisters.
- An avid golfer and fisherman, he roots for all pro sports in which Pittsburgh, PA, has a team playing. He’s almost fanatical about the Pittsburgh Steelers, which is the team I root for.
- Norm didn’t shy away from having a drink. Beer is his go-to preference. He doesn’t like lagers or IPAs. I introduced him to Caldera Brewing’s porters, Mogli and Pilot Rock. They happen to be two of my favorites. He declared them as excellent.
- He worked as a wastewater engineer in Florida, retiring after 27 years with one plant. He’s pretty passionate about it, too. He retired when he was sixty and then had triple bypass surgery.
- An outraged anti-Trumper, he’s been involved with the Everglades for a long time, working to keep it preserved. So he was very informed about what was going on with Alligator Alcatraz and was passionately anti Gov. ‘DeSatan’. He’s also a fan of Southpark and their brutal take on Paramount, Trump, and the right-wing.
The way that Mr Mackey is hired by ICE, his ‘orientation’, and the depiction of Kristi Noem is so bloody sharp and satirical.
We had a good time. Kept very busy but he was interested in all things Ashland and Oregon, and displayed charm and intelligence.
Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts
I was in the kitchen, looking for a dropped blueberry. “What are you doing?” my wife asked as she came around the corner.
“I lost a blueberry. Do you see a blueberry on the floor?”
“No.” She and I squinted at the hardwood floor together. “You sure you lost i?”
“Pretty sure.” I missed Quinn. Anything hit the floor and black paws was after it fast. Almost everything scared him but he was always willing to approach and sniff before giving things a bat. His ability to spot these things was useful. Papi, on the other hand, has no interest in anything falling on the ground. I once dropped some treats on the floor to see what he would do. He sat and stared at the treat before turning a puzzled expression onto me.
Without Quinn, I could not find the blueberry. Nor could my wife. While I had her, I asked, “Should I change?” We were going to dinner. I was rocking light grey slacks and a white shirt.
Her eyes went nuclear. “Absolutely. Go put on your nice blue shirt.”
She walked off.
I looked down. Something was on the floor. I picked it up. Piece of granola. I remembered dropping it two days ago. I couldn’t find it.
Probably find the blueberry in two more days. I certainly can’t depend on Papi.
Toons!
Jill Dennison posted some wonderful toons on her site. I have to share them. I will note my favorites. You should check them out and see which ones talk to you. Cheers
Sumpin A Lil’ Different
My wife does a lot of scrolling. Not just doom scrolling, but also watching animal, political, and humor videos. She also reads a lot and constantly prowls for more books for her TBR list.
Today she was listening to Kristen Key talking about Buffalo Wings and other matters in Buffalo, NY. I found it funny and interesting and thought, let’s share this with the world. Socialize Kristen Key’s humor. Let us all laugh a bit. Hope you enjoy it as much as me.
Cheers
Satyrdaz Theme Music
Welcome again to Satyrda, home this month to August 30, 2025. The sky is blue but small white clouds are sneaking in, then slowing to loiter, waiting for other clouds. I think they’re up to something. 61 F now, we’re peeking at a coolish day, with a high of just 91 F. Smoke free, our Air Quality hovers around 28, a solid green and healthy showing.
My sis-in-law and her boyfriend of six months are visiting this week. They met through a senior dating app. My wife is already annoyed with the new BF. He’s rejected all advice and insights offered but then asks for more advice. They’re arriving in SFO and driving up to Eureka for a night. Then they’re driving on to our place via Highway 101 and 199. They’re staying in a spa resort that’s actually outside of the town. Little is around it except a car dealership. We suggested places in town to stay where they can step out the front door and enjoy our small city. No; BF didn’t want that. They also specified no hiking and no walking, no river floats, no boat rides. They want to drive to Crater Lake, drive around it, and then back. Okay. Then, after three nights here, they’re driving to Carmel, south of San Francisco. O-kay. Sounds like a plan. Not a fun one, to me. They’ll be in a car quite often. We shall do what we can to provide them with good memories and a pleasant visit.
Today’s music is “Desire” by U2. Papi the ginger blade prompted it with a request for his special treats. Checking out Trump’s plans and disgusted by his love of money, The Neurons agreed that “Desire” is a good choice and thrust it into the morning mental music stream. After all, the band sings, “For the love of money, money, money, money, money.” For the love of money, power, and adulation, Trump and the GOP will do anything except anything good. Their love of money and power perverts their sense of justice and stacks their sense of entitlement and privilege to higher levels. Nothing is beneath them in their pursuit of money and power. Just when I think they can’t be an crappier as human beings, they lower the bar.
Hope that grace and peace find and hold you today and always. Coffee has found me once again. Here we go, onward. Cheers
But, But, But
I feel like I’m on the edge. See, I’ve been writing a novel manuscript. Almost at the end, confrontations are underway. It’s tense and violent. I don’t want to stop writing, but —
Yes, life is littered with buts, those interruptions to intents and purposes. Several buts are engaging me. First, honestly, is my derriere, aka, my butt. I’ve been sitting and typing for about 80 minutes straight, and my butt is crying, “Up, damn you, up. Give me a break.” It’s classic writer’s butt.
My stomach is also complaining that it’s been too long since food was introduced to my mouth. And my coffee is cold. Just two swallows remain.
A war, then, is raging between the Writing Neurons and the Practical Neurons. The Writers want to stay and keep writing. “Damn it, man, you’re on a roll. Don’t stop now.” But the Practicals are urging, “Go get food. Run errands. Get other things done.”
The final piece of it all is time, though. Time is the empress. Much as I want to keep writing, I have real-world commitments to fulfill. So how do I feel?
Well, resigned to the inevitable brought on by the buts.
The Optimist
My wife exercises three mornings a week at the local Y. I’m typically abed, reviewing dreams, when she leaves. She normally comes by to say good-bye. I generally wave a foot or hand in acknowledgement.
Well, today, I was buried in sleep and didn’t respond to her. I got up and did all my usual things. As I finished dressing, I heard her arrive home. I didn’t go out and say hello, as I had something going on in my head.
Coming down the hall, she called, “Where are you?”
I didn’t answer but I walked around to meet her. She said with real relief, “Oh, thank God. I saw your car in the garage. Then I didn’t see or hear you anywhere. You didn’t give me a wave when I left this morning. I thought, oh, no, he died and I didn’t notice.”
We laughed but I had to note, “You are such an optimist.”
Michael Seidel, writer 