To be honest, I don’t have a burning desire to spend time in any urban area. But if I did, I think I’d like to see Paris, Amsterdam, Venice, London, Stockholm, Reykjavik, Seattle, Anchorage, Sydney, Auckland, Tokyo, New Delhi, Cairo, and a bit more of Jerusalem– Old and New.
Will Anything Get Done?
David Brooks, opinion columnist for the NY Times and frequent guest on PBS Newshour, was asked about Trump’s agenda—or is it the Heritage Foundation’s agenda?—and how much of it will actually come to fruition.
If I heard him correctly, Brooks said that it depends on resistance from various quarters. He acknowledged that there looks to be little internal resistance from incoming nominees and such, so it’s going to have to come from the House and Senate members on the “outside” who still possess some level of integrity and independent thinking.
Sounds like things are gonna get real in a hurry. Those elected to office who haven’t yet drank the Kool-Aid will actually have to govern, put their careers and reputations on the line. And other federal employees who take their jobs seriously will have something to say about the caliber and effectiveness of the incoming class of nominees.
In a perfect world, Kash Patel and the rest will be chewed up and spit out by proud, dedicated workforces who refuse to suffer the indignity of being led by vengeful, angry, and incompetent Trump sycophants and pretenders. May the same go for Congress.
Low-minded
Democrats are impotent, or soon will be. Republicans are setting the bar so low, but Democrats refuse to follow suit, the implication being that maybe they should.
Really?
There’s no honor, no high road anymore, thanks to Trump, just appearances and passive-aggressive posturing and thinly disguised zingers and defensiveness. Might as well cut to bare knuckle fisticuffs and pulling hair. This is what passes for a legislative back and forth nowadays. Only the best, most productive discourse among elected representatives who are often questioning each other’s pedigree and allegiances and intentions.
It’s a tragedy with a long shelf life, and really hard to watch. So, a lot of us don’t anymore. Watch, that is.
Tough One
Maybe that I take the world seriously.
First Grade
It was before the days of compulsory kindergarten. Up to that point, the extent of my social interactions involved my siblings and cousins and Sunday School at a local Lutheran church. I think there are pictures, though I haven’t seen them for a while. Mom was there. I was likely dressed in a paisley shirt with plaid pants that came up to my navel, or maybe that was junior high.
With lunchbox and some form of ancestral Trapper Keeper from W.T. Grant in hand, we walked to the bottom of the driveway, crossed the street, and waited for the bus to round the bend. I can still remember it slowing down, coming to a stop. It was an old Dodge, probably from the late 50s, not nearly as big as the buses today. I don’t remember if it had all the blinking yellow and red lights that today’s models have. And it was definitely before the days of stop signs that popped out, and that long bar that protrudes from the front.
Anyway, the door opened and I looked up at Mr. Lemanski– gruff, cigar-chomping Mr. Lemanski. It was often difficult to tell if he enjoyed this daily routine, but he safely delivered us to school every day for the first few of those elementary years.
Amazing– what stays in your head.
Cesspool
I wonder if the people at Fox News ever steal a moment to ponder. I wonder if, despite the hype and their all-in bravado and kowtowing to Donald Trump, they ever pause to realize that they’re backing the wrong horse.
The cascade of bad news with regard to nominees for important jobs just got markedly worse, in my estimation, with the nod to Kari Lake.
Christopher Wray’s resignation? Most everyone knew that might be coming, and it certainly doesn’t bode well for our future. But Kari Lake? There’s always been something about her that raises hackles. She seems downright evil to me—a slick, calculating, angry smartass who wants to lash out at somebody. She might be the culmination, the poster child for everything that’s ugly and wrong with another Trump administration.
Any Republican in Congress who still possesses a shred of decency should be grieving. And alarmed, too.
Such Memorable Oratory…
Not speeches, really, but as a pastor, I delivered sermons most Sundays and offered eulogies for many people.
My only brush with the stage was in junior high, when I played Bob Cratchit in A Christmas Carol. As I recall, I was ready to deliver a performance for the ages, but somehow a couple pages of dialogue got skipped, and with them most of my lines. So, that was that.
Expensive Savior
$765 million. We all know it’s only gonna keep going up. A billion-dollar contract is coming, and it will be rationalized simply as the cost of doing business in a competitive marketplace. That, and the new record is temporarily newsworthy, brings attention to an organization.
I guess my questions include Why, and How, and, going forward, Who can afford to attend the games? How do the teams recoup their commitments, apart from skyrocketing ticket prices and pay-per-view nickel and diming, and paid subscriptions and deferred compensation that players must be hoping actually materializes?
Is it humanly possible for Mr. Soto or any player to maintain a level of humility, and to perform to the now wildly escalated expectations many will have?
Meanwhile, there’s a whole other world in which people look at this and shake their heads and question priorities.
The Mets must be hoping the guy stays healthy. And motivated. I’m sure they’ve got it all figured out.
Motion
Golf, yard work, running around with the grandkids, and a few machines at the Y– recumbent bike, elliptical, and various upper body and arm sets. OK… and stair push-ups– trying to work my way back to the real ones.
Steely-eyed Missile People
Reporters covering war zones; astronauts and airline pilots; community organizers who refuse to give up hope; teachers; parents who love their children.