Probably

Daily writing prompt
Are you superstitious?

A little bit. Since the days of Phil Esposito, I tie my left shoe before the right one, since that was something he did when he got dressed for a game with the Boston Bruins– he always tied his left skate first.

I’m not sure where the crossover is– I’m a bit of a creature of habit, tend to follow the same routine at certain parts of the day. I don’t know if that’s superstition or just being in a rut. I’ve had black cats cross my path, occasionally walked under a ladder, stepped on the cracks in the sidewalk when we’re out getting some exercise– all without incident that I’m aware of. Though in each of those situations, I’ll admit to feeling a bit like I’m tempting fate or waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Domesticated

Daily writing prompt
Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?

Certainly not a dog- they’re too laid back. I try to be laid back, but can’t pull that off for very long.

I dream about being a bird, if for no other reason than the ability to go airborne.

Probably a house cat. A creature of habit, a bit finicky, sometimes playful, sometimes affectionate, with instincts and movements that might occasionally remind one of a bigger relative in the wild.

Filling Me In

Daily writing prompt
Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Greetings from here in the past.

Congratulations on reaching the century mark! And you thought you might not see 80…

This is a letter from your 72-year-old self, written in early 2026, when seismic changes continue to be the order of the day and many of us are still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since you’re 100, you obviously survived whatever upheaval ensued, but I have to wonder how things are going for you, and everyone else. Are you cared for, are your needs being met? Does America still exist? Does society still function? How’s the weather?

Listen to me. I’m getting ahead of myself. My job is to report and convey current conditions. I’ll refrain from asking more questions and offering advice. Hell, you managed to make it to 100– there’s nothing I can offer on that front!

Anyway, it’s a mixed bag here in 2026– more foreboding than promise. We’re still in the hands of an idiot and an equally unqualified cast around him. That you’ve reached 100 says something, I guess, considering what’s happening now. We’re at war with Iran, gas prices are going through the roof. Lots of self-inflicted wounds, on the part of so-called leaders, that are affecting us all.

Sorry I can’t be more upbeat. I guess it says something hopeful, though– that you’re still hanging in there. I didn’t think I had it in me.

Boundless Ineptitude, Coming Home to Roost

Here’s a surprising development: the war with Iran isn’t going very well.

Wow, you could knock me over with a feather! Apparently, more Americans are being put unnecessarily in harm’s way, we’re losing critical radars, and our foreign bases are sustaining heavy damage. And Russia and China are feeding Iran real-time surveillance info re the whereabouts of our military assets.

The countries hosting our bases must be pleased as punch that they’ve become targets.

All in all, it’s been a great week-plus for Donald Trump, Pete Hegseth, J.D. Vance, and the rest of the pretenders who, maybe, are finding out that the real thing is yucky. They’re tired of playing war, still talking tough but wondering how to extricate themselves from the mess they’ve gotten themselves—and the rest of us—into.

What a crew we have at the helm— invoking Armageddon, trying to transform the country into a playground for ultra-rich white people, but having to spend so much time navigating in the bowels of the ship, dealing with pesty, self-inflicted wounds, and issues like war, cost of living and jobs numbers, and moral conundrums like having to shield their boss from bad press over a sexual abuse scandal that isn’t going away.

It all seems to be going south, which means we need to be on the lookout for the next dumb utterance, the next reactive order, the next round of firings, more tightening or loosening of restrictions, the next clash with protesters that turns deadly, the next order for more voting records, or plans to raze or rename the Washington Monument.

In any event, the next indications that the rat is cornered and desperate and ready to lash out in order to save his own ass.

Follow the sun’s lead

When is Daylight Saving Time gonna go away? Every time the second Sunday in March rolls around, various media parade out their articles describing how it messes with circadian rhythms– how bad the leap forward can be for our bodies, our internal clocks.

These are usually accompanied by pros and cons of either doing away with DST altogether or making it the practice year ‘round.

For what it’s worth, returning to Standard Time year ‘round gets my vote. While gaining the hour in November is pretty nice, we’d just have to find some other marker for changing our smoke detector batteries. And besides, who wants an extra hour of scorching sunshine and ridiculous heat when the temps are hovering at such increasingly inhospitable highs?

Keep in mind that permanent DST means winter sunrises between 8:30 and 9am, depending on where you live. An extra hour of daylight in the summer isn’t the great bonus people make it out out be. Let’s dare to go with the science on this one.

Big Spender

Daily writing prompt
Where would you go on a shopping spree?

If I was using my own money, nowhere exciting. My definition of a shopping spree is heading to Boscov’s and getting some new t-shirts and socks, and, depending on the season, maybe a new, toasty U.S Polo Association hoodie or a new short-sleeved shirt.

If it was a five-minute shopping spree I had won, then maybe a place where I could pick out a wood lathe and all necessary extras. Or how about a Toyota dealership, so I could pick out a new Tacoma extended cab?

Desperate Times

This past News Year’s Eve, someone in the town across the river from us decided to celebrate with fireworks. I’m not sure if they were big-time fireworks, the kind people would have to drive out of state to find, or if they were leftovers from July 4th and purchased at one of the pop-up stands that show up in shuttered K-Mart parking lots– cheap explosives, mostly relatively mild and harmless, with adult supervision.

As the story goes, these folks had their fun setting off various incendiary devices, but decided to throw the spent pieces into the trash. In the house. These spent fireworks were apparently still very hot. They started the trash on fire, which spread to the rest of the house, burning it beyond salvageability. To add insult to injury, the fire was so hot and out of control long enough that it spread to the beautifully remodeled home next door and rendered it uninhabitable.

It seems someone was angling for a Darwin Award, though there were no injuries. At this point, all that remains is a pile of rubble sitting next to a partially burned-out, empty dwelling.

We seem to have reached the point when yesterday often turns out to be a relative cakewalk compared to today. Each new day, instead of providing a bit of respite from the torrid pace, seems to present compounded problems, thornier issues, and more reminders that we’re living in a nightmare, the product of horrendous leadership, poor decisions, and increasingly dire prospects.

From the perspective of anyone with a moral compass, the Trump administration is the worst thing to happen to this country in a very long time, maybe ever. And now, as if to remind us all just how terrible they can be, we are involved in “targeted military operations,” aka a war, with Iran.

Pete Hegseth, the self-named Secretary of War who was plucked from the proving grounds of Weekend Fox and Friends, touted the efficiency and brute force of the American and Israeli air attacks, bragging about the destruction and how things would probably be wrapped up in a few days. Meanwhile, people at home were concerned about a plan, a timeframe, and a reason for starting this assault in the first place.

Rationales have been plentiful, if not underwhelming and unsatisfying. And, to be fair, how does anyone know how long hostilities will last, once the cat is out of the bag? War isn’t a thing that neatly ends when the buzzer sounds at the end of the 4th quarter.

What’s happened since last weekend is that the fire has spread, as anyone with any knowledge of the region would expect it to do. We spent so much time telegraphing our intentions, between building up our naval presence and Trump being his usual stupidly bombastic self, that Iran had time to prepare for a counterattack which, as it turns out, would mean returning fire and going after American interests in several surrounding countries.

To top it all off, there is reason to believe that Trump and his stellar supporting cast have no intention of stopping this anytime soon. This unnecessary war kills three birds with one stone, pardon the expression. In Trump’s mind, trying to hold elections with a war going on just isn’t something that can happen. It’s great, ongoing cover and distraction from the Epstein files. In addition, everyone knows Iran was involved in election hijinks in 2020 and 2024, so precautions must be taken to “safeguard the election process” to ensure such involvement doesn’t happen again…

We’re gonna need one helluva fire department.

Yup, Among Other Things

Things happen too fast. Innovation supplants innovation, and we never get a chance to absorb the changes. The push to be the first and best takes its toll on us. New ideas, new products keep coming at us, marketed as the latest and greatest and must-have. Until next year, when once again the latest and greatest are must-haves.

We’re always unsettled, unsatisfied, restless, fascinated, occupied by shiny things for a few moments, before we feel compelled to move on to the next shiny thing without fully comprehending the implications of the thing we just thought was the end-all of shiny things.

I wonder if this is what Mick meant when he sang about not getting any satisfaction.

Discovery

Daily writing prompt
What is the last thing you learned?

I think it might have been something about the function of a kitchen appliance or tool that I have been using for years, but I can’t remember which one it was.

I’m usually learning something new from one news feed or another– some scientific discovery or fact, some new detail about a country or a law, or when the pilot episode of a new show will premier.

And of course there’s always the new-to-me and often dramatic terminology meteorologists use to describe the weather.

Power Failure

It’s a start, Donald, but even you must have an inkling that the firings can’t end with your in-way-over-her-head DHS secretary. Ms. Noem is the tip of the iceberg.

It comes down to you. You need to go, too.

For some god-forsaken reason, you’ve been able to commandeer the ship and steer it toward the rocks. On purpose. You’ve shamfully (no sic) taken the oath of office twice— fingers crossed both times– and proceeded to deep-six the responsibilities that come with the position of POTUS.

It’s never been about patriotism or God, or caring. It’s always been about you and your empty soul, you and your “deal making,” you and your fixation on material wealth and self-enrichment and loopholes and distractions and chaos, and a crippling need to get even with… somebody. What are you even doing here? How could someone with such misguided aspirations make it as far as you have?

You’re a walking, talking lie, Donald. You’re the fake—not the news outlets who have always seen right through you. You’ve somehow attracted a legion of sycophants who are more than willing to back you up, sanction the incompetence and the hate, kiss and cover your ass.

You don’t love America. You’re just an act, and a horrendous one at that. So the hook is coming out, and the curtain is coming down. Hopefully it’s in time to douse the fire you’ve started in Iran, you piece of shit.