The people of Puerto Rico must be feeling like they have a target on their backs. Five years ago it was Maria, complete with Trump’s stultifying presence in the form of an infamous paper towel-tossing photo op, and more recently Fiona.

Widespread power loss—almost the entire island— and extensive flooding. They were still recovering from Maria. How do you come back from something like this? It seems it would be easy to start feeling snake bitten. Or abandoned by God.

Donald would say that it’s somehow their fault. They were in the way. Shame on them.

What the hell is Putin’s motivation for causing so much pain and suffering?

Really. What is the motivation? I want to know. His own people want to know. The world, I imagine, wants to know. It has to be really good, if he’s gonna sell us on the need for all he has wrought over the past seven months.

Ukraine’s latest resurgence has apparently backed the little goblin into a corner and he’s once again threatening to play the nuclear card. He obviously doesn’t mind playing with fire, and who knows what kind of pressure he’s getting from his Generals and others to step things up?

Tight corner, eh Vlad?

It’s quite the experience to walk into a vehicle dealership trying to get some straightforward information about trade-in value. I was in the neighborhood recently and decided to do just this, current used car values being what they are. I ended up taking a test drive in the pickup of my dreams, awaited word on a pay-off and trade-in value for the vehicle I’m currently driving, and predictably was presented with a monthly lease payment that was well beyond my willingness to make.

The sales rep, undeterred, spoke with his manager and came back from the Inner Sanctum with a Plan B: they would give me $2K more for my vehicle toward a floor model with fewer bells and whistles and a less desirable color. And they would make it sound like they were doing me a favor.

I knew going in that things would likely progress this way… the dealership speak, the convoluted explanation of how a lease works, the pressure, the persistent efforts to move inventory. I was kind of ready for it and ended up saying No to the final offer, which saddens me, because the truck was awesome, even if it wasn’t the color I wanted.

Probably for the best. I’ll just drive my Camry into the ground and end up getting little for it.

From what I saw of it, the Queen’s funeral was everything folks probably thought it should be—steeped in tradition and formality, regular close-ups of the Crown Jewels, the tolling of Big Ben on the minute. The somber looks, the Royal Family in tow behind the caisson, the ever-present soap-operatic undercurrents, the streets lined 50-deep with mourners and onlookers and curiosity seekers; wondering if any of the military personnel would get out of step or keel over from top-heaviness or heat exhaustion, marveling at the stamina of the band members.

It really was a spectacle, impressive mainly for its duration and choreographed precision. It seemed to unfold as planned and, admittedly, was rather impressive, fitting for a reign that may never be matched again, at least in terms of longevity.

Not bad for a figurehead with little political power, and who, apparently, paid no taxes on a fortune estimated to be in excess of a billion dollars and now in the hands of King Charles III, who seems to be a bit of a dour chap. To say the least.

I recently attended my 50^th high school class reunion. Hadn’t been to one since the 5th. I was dreading it, because I began feeling like it wouldn’t be much different than being back in high school. I was partially wrong.

It was good to reconnect with some people I had last seen at graduation a half century ago. But I had had enough, after an hour or so, of manufactured conversation and wandering around like I was still lost among people who were still cooler than me and who had so much more to say. And more than a few people confused me with my cousin, a classmate and musician of some renown who probably wouldn’t have shown up for this even if he had absolutely nothing else to do.

I also read the names of those listed on the In Remembrance poster. The list included my best friend from late elementary school on, along with 31 others.

Kind of a mixed bag of emotions, though I guess I’m glad I went.

As I read Mark Liebovich’s book, Thankyou for your Servitude, it has become apparent that aspirations and dreams are as much motivational factors as any sense of duty, patriotism, or working for the public good. The enablers and toadies around Donald Trump certainly fit that mold.

Kevin McCarthy, for example. He really wants to be Speaker of the House, and he has shown he will do or say just about whatever it takes in order to make that happen. Wow.

With certain people in Congress, it really is all about the power and visibility. Constituents be damned.

Was coerced into watching the Nightly News but couldn’t handle more than a couple minutes of it, since the top story was The Picture, the crime scene photo of top-secret cover sheets laid out on a floor at Mar-a-lago, over which certain networks and pundits are all losing their shit.

I couldn’t watch the whole piece, since the anchor and reporters on the scene breathlessly spoke as if Trump maybe possibly might could be in real trouble this time. There’s never been anything more than that, though– conjecture, theory. Wishful thinking? Makes me think he’s gonna get away with even this. This will end up being the latest dismissive, albeit cliched, “nothing burger” that Fox and their ilk are always regurgitating.

I can’t conceive of how much wrangling and hand-wringing are going on behind the scenes right now. The DOJ is contemplating an indictment of a former sitting POTUS. Trump apparently has been caught red-handed with the goods, but… not really? Not this time, not any time? I can’t conceive of the machine he has at his disposal whose job it is to throw taffy in the gears and keep their boss above the fray, away from the ax.

Liberal media have been hovering like vultures, salivating like a Newfie eyeing what’s on your plate, while Fox and the rest are positively incensed that Trump could be treated in such a manner.

What level of mindlessness exists beyond insanity?

The son of a bitch STILL dominates the news and he’s been out of office for over a year and a half. Since when does this seem reasonable or healthy? It’s way past time to shut him down, to call his bluff and send him off into oblivion and ignominy.

Just caught a clip of some “expert” being asked questions about the Mar-a-Lago investigation. This person spoke for 3 or 4 minutes without offering anything definitive or insightful. In fact, if I didn’t know better, she sounded like a Trump apologist, spewing the convoluted logic of saying that if Trump had better lawyers, he wouldn’t be in the (seeming) trouble he’s currently in…

I know that networks have their biases and anchors ask leading questions, but if that was the case here, the person being interviewed didn’t bite, didn’t offer up any juicy tidbits or confirm or corroborate anything. She was avoiding straightforward answers, basically saying that, negligence or intent aside, Trump and his advisors merely lacked cunning, lacked a strategy, a devious plan that would have given them an out and opened the door to avoiding the current bad press and attention being paid by the FBI.

I don’t think she offered the answers the anchor was looking for. It sounded more like she graduated Summa Cum Laude from the Donald Trump School of Circumvention and Getting Away with Shit.

I’m discovering that I’m not always good with nuance. I have trouble being diplomatic, i.e. patient and thoughtful. I crave black and white, clearly demarcated good guys and bad guys. It’s easier that way.

I react more than I ponder or analyze. But then I risk getting lumped in with the hotheads and ignoramuses on the right who sound like buffoons and idiots, and I don’t want to be associated with that goonish mindset.

My ire is easily raised, though. It sometimes doesn’t take much for my bullshit meter to peg, especially when it comes to people like Donald Trump. Or Mitch McConnell, Lindsey Graham, Josh Hawley, Kevin McCarthy, MTG, Lauren Boebert, or even Kyrsten Sinema, she of the tortured first name and flamboyant fashion sense. Their public personas may be different from who they are in private, but what we see and hear often leaves the impression that they are in someone’s pocket, that they enjoy the limelight and speaking out of their ass and serving up the party line with a heaping helping of snark.

No one can be bested. Everyone wants to be heard. There’s a constant need to prevail, to win, to have the upper hand and the last word. There seems to be no room for concession or compromise, or admitting to speaking without knowing all the facts.

They have trouble being honest sometimes, and it seems they may not know the people they serve as well as they say they do.

With few exceptions, the Trump White House was basically a gathering of toadies whose job was to coddle and pacify, and dismiss and defend immature behavior. It’s both pathetic and rage inducing, and the opposite of comforting.

The “adults in the room” no doubt had their hands full, but let’s not forget that most of them simply liked being where they were— mindful of the idiot “in charge,” but also starstruck, on the inside, at the seat of power, standing to benefit, somehow, hopeful of advancing their own careers.

It’s an arguable point whether or not people took jobs in this administration out of a sense of concern, as if their presence could somehow be a steadying influence. I can imagine very few turning down an opportunity to work in the White House, regardless of who the President is.

I guess what bothers me the most about the Trump years (and they’re still going on, in some ways) is this unshakeable feeling that he was and will remain so unfit for the job, that he has always been in over his head, that in reality he’s a toddler in adult clothing who has rarely not gotten his way.

Trump is an unlikeable, obnoxious, seedy, needy, self-centered blabbermouth who loves the sound of his own grating voice, who lives for the chip on his shoulder and the adulation and obedience of his minions. His emergence on the political scene has been nothing but one long record scratch. And he doesn’t have the good sense to go away. Maybe, given the current state of affairs, he will be going away shortly.

Nah, probably not.