I'm Thinking…No!

On a recent morning, I went into a variety store to purchase some lottery tickets.  Next to the counter was a rack of red “Make America Great Again” caps.  I walked out of the store, not really because the sentiment was offensive, but more because of who and what it represents.  For some, it’s a line in the sand, but for others, it represents unbridled fear and divisive rhetoric that’s driving decisions that aren’t in America’s collective best interests.  Those decisions and policies are neither reflective nor thoughtful – they’re knee-jerk reactions to perceived injustices. That got me to thinking about where we’ve come and where we’re going. Continue reading “How to Make America Truly Great”

I’m in.  Not really sure how to get started here, but I fully embrace the concept that I would somehow be able to influence the thoughts, habits, and branding of millions of people and get paid truck-loads of cash in the process.  This came to my attention as I saw that one celebrity’s daughter is an “Instagram Influencer”.   I hadn’t really understood how that works, and full disclosure, I still don’t.  People actually pay to hear what she has to say? Is that like the Kardashians, who don’t have any appreciably marketable skills yet still end up on television and in magazines all the time?  And the famous daughter is like, what, 19?  And she got a crew scholarship to USC, despite not having ever been on anything less than a forty-foot sailboat.  How cool is that?  I can just see her asking “What do these big paddles do?” at the first practice, or informing the coach that “Riding backwards makes me nauseous”. Continue reading “Becoming An “Influencer””

Was it not Benjamin Franklin who wrote about the inevitability of death and taxes?  I think so, but what he neglected to mention was that taxes are the usually the more painful of the two. This year was more exciting, because in addition to our own revised taxes, our daughter moved, changed jobs, and has gone back to school.  Federal taxes along with a nice assortment of taxes in two locales. That’s the trifecta of joy and anxiety. Continue reading “Death and Taxes”

On a typical morning, my legions of faithful readers will open this blog and expect to read all about the foibles of the people and the world in general around me – things that have happened on the national stage, things that are on television, or inanimate objects that have set out to thwart my best efforts.  Not today, my friends, not today.  Today we set our sights on the simple bits of life that give me pleasure and inspire joy. Continue reading “Things That Make Me Smile.”

Do you remember when “super” meant the Man of Steel, who could fly, see through buildings, and break through concrete walls?  Yes, that was truly super.  Anything super was truly spectacular – so high above us regular people that it was, well, just imaginary. Superheroes wore body suits and capes with their initials boldly splashed across their incredible physiques.  Of course, they had masks to cleverly conceal their everyday identities.  Clark Kent had those black rimmed glasses so that none of us ever suspected who he really was.  Ok, a couple of us really perceptive viewers suspected, but Lois and Jimmy never caught on. Continue reading “Have a Super Day!”

Ok, here’s our award winner for this week.  A woman visiting a zoo in Arizona was tempted to take perhaps the ultimate selfie when she reached into an enclosure housing a jaguar.  The big cat attacked her, holding her hostage until a thoughtful bystander hit the jaguar with, of all things, a water bottle.  This apparently sufficiently startled the cat that it let go of the photographer.  Perhaps the jaguar wanted to see if it was good likeness. Continue reading “Torn (literally) from the Headlines II”

I got thinking the other day, as I was watching a sitcom, about paperboys of the past.  Maybe in some areas, they still ply their trade – sacks of newspapers over their shoulders or tucked into baskets on bikes, riding down the street and casually tossing the papers onto the front porch, or onto the roof, into the rosebushes, under the sprinkler.  We don’t have that any more, at least not in our area.  Mine is a surly young man in a vehicle about the size of a smart car.  The transmission and exhaust system have done their duty and are trying to retire gracefully. He arrives sometime before dawn, because he obviously can’t see where to drop the paper. So he’ll leave it conveniently in the middle of the roadway I share with the neighbors in our condo complex, where they’ll be sure to drive over it. Continue reading “The Paperboy”

Checked my Powerball ticket this morning before posting this.  I had one number – that’s just under the threshold of winning anything.  Even two dollars would be a moment of delight. Almost a year ago, I informed my faithful readers that I felt really, really close to a big windfall.  Several possibilities loomed large.  Hourly updates were coming in from Publishers Clearing House – in fact a number from the president himself, who I presume doesn’t send to just anybody.  Last Friday was the day my big check should have arrived, but didn’t.  Once again, I practiced my happy smile (which almost inordinately stretched some muscles) and a passable squeal of delight, which they tell me looks good on camera.  Those that quietly acknowledge their winnings are not ratings makers.  This is a major disappointment as I’m now sneaking my purchases, which should not “increase my chances of winning”, surreptitiously into the house under veil of darkness.  I know what you’re thinking, but those big, bold, “YOU HAVEN’T ORDERED ANYTHING – YOU SCHMUCK.  HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO STAY IN BUSINESS AT THIS RATE?” announcements come across my computer screen ominously.  I feel badly – the person putting balloons all over the website might not get paid this month. How am I supposed to believe that they’re going to deposit a bundle in my bank account every week if I haven’t bought the floral canister set or the new miracle lug wrench that practically changes the tire itself?  It’s all a big mystery that they haven’t come because I know they have a map to my house.  It pops up on each announcement, surrounded by the entire PCH staff clutching fistfuls of cash.  I’ve even written to them offering to shoot the bat-signal into the sky on the morning of delivery.  Nothing. Continue reading “The Big Win – An Update”

I was standing third in line at Walmart recently, holding a toaster that I was returning.  The toaster was recently purchased and proved to be defective.  I’d had it long enough that the box and sales receipt were long gone.  But that’s not really the point, is it?  The man being served was an older gentleman who used two canes for walking, so that understandably took some time.  The young man ahead of me in line was cashing his paycheck, which it turns out, was his last as he was moving on to employment elsewhere.  Good for him. His new job would pay more and give him better hours.  I know all of this because I couldn’t help hearing the entire conversation. Maybe now he’ll be making enough to open a bank account. All to the good, but do we in line need to know that narrative?  I’m thinking . . . . . .  Continue reading “Who Tells Your Story? Just Not Now”

Several times, I’ve introduced Lady Peacock, a friend of ours who is delightful yet some might say just a little quirky in some of her outlooks. Her strongly held views would more than likely improve life and culture as we know it if only, as she lamented recently, “people would listen to me and do what I recommend.”  In the first episode, “Snacks Without Borders”, much was made of her eating habits, which she insists are fully compliant with a healthy, nutritional lifestyle.  Much like Donald Trump’s cheeseburgers, the experts no doubt would disagree.  I, as merely the scribe here, feel compelled to document this so that researchers in coming generations and centuries may come across these chapters and perhaps identify where society broke down.  It’s a mission. Continue reading “A Diet In Action”