Let’s make this quick. I won’t eat turkey and I despise holidays because my heart is three sizes too small. But I’m thankful for all of you and I hope that each one of you has a chance to remind the people whom you love of that fact. Enjoy the day. If you’re alone, then take a moment to reflect on the fact that your story is not over and there are still chapters to be written. Some of those chapters will be written by fate, but most of them will be about how you respond to fate and its challenges.
Most importantly, don’t buy a television on Black Friday! I’ll admit that I did my “Black Friday” shopping last night: my son and I went to Allen-Edmonds and I bought the “Sturgis 2.0” motorcycle boots. So in the next riding photo I’ll have, you will see real boots on my feet. Doesn’t really matter; today, I’m just thankful that I can ride again.
Went to the doctor yesterday to find out how I was doing in Week Six after the leg surgery. The news was very good. It was also very annoying, and for the same physiological reason.
As my more intelligent blog readers know, Thanksgiving is normally the time of year when friends and family come together to celebrate the blessings and good fortune they’ve received throughout the year. It’s also a time to remember how much you dislike most of your family members, and to watch the Detroit Lions lose a professional football game.
But this wouldn’t be 2015-style America if there weren’t some people out there who wanted to take everything that is nice and good and normal about the traditions our country has and turn them into things that we should all FEEL VERY GUILTY ABOUT. I mean, just look at this image from Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. What is this racist shit? Franklin has to sit by himself? And all the music was written by Vince Guaraldi, a white man who co-opted the Jazz tradition. No, you can’t watch Charlie Brown for Thanksgiving. Here’s some other reasons you definitely shouldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, according to the Social Justice Warriors of America. Continue Reading →
Regular patrons of this site know the affection that Bark and I have for Allen-Edmonds shoes. I’ve been a devoted customer of the brand for nearly twenty years now and I’ve owned somewhere between eighty-five and ninety pairs of A-Es. A few months ago, I fulfilled a long-time dream of mine by traveling to the famous “Shoebank” in Wisconsin for the first time. I left with the proverbial three bags full, including an utterly brilliant set of MacNeil longwings with tartan plaid cloth vamps.
This morning, Allen-Edmonds spammed me with a rather unusual offer. It’s not one for which I personally qualify, but I’m passing it along because I suspect it will pan out for one, or more, of my readers.
Well, it’s been an exciting day of waiting for my new washer and dryer to arrive. Given that the delivery date is in December, it looks like I’ll be waiting for a while. And, as you know, the waiting is the hardest part.
Since I like to second-guess my own choices, however, I took a moment to read through Consumer Reports on their washer testing. And that’s where I saw the above bio.
After the events of the past few days, you have to think of Donald Trump as Elvis. Not because he’s an entertainer, or because he’s got the outrageous hair, but because he’s a cultural appropriator. I’ll explain. Elvis became popular because he was a white guy singing black music to white people. Donald Trump is kicking ass because he’s a Republican using Democrat tactics. More specifically, he’s using the tactics developed by the Clinton/Soros machine two decades ago.
As most of you know, the Clintons made an art out of refusing to be sorry for anything they had ever done. So much so that two of their best non-apologies — “Mistakes were made” and “What difference does it make?” — have entered the public lexicon. And it works. Look at this business with Hillary and her private email server. This woman knowingly circumvented national security policy by sending, receiving, and storing classified information on a computer in a bathroom closet… and because she won’t apologize for it, she’s untouchable on the subject.
Trump has been called a “racist” by the corpo-Democratic media since Day One. The label has been applied so often and so vigorously that it’s losing its effect. More importantly, Trump refuses to apologize for his “racism”. Instead, he’s doubling down on his “problematic” behavior. I don’t think that’s by accident. He is depending on the media going absolutely insane on the topic and simply wearing out the patience of the American voter. By the time the general election rolls around, allegations that Trump is a racist will seem as old and meaningless as Hillary’s decision to do State Department business on her own computer.
It’s a brilliant strategy. Chuck Todd called Trump “the post-truth candidate”. The fact of the matter, however, is that the Clintons perfected being post-truth a long time ago. Trump is simply reading from their playbook. To a national media that is used to watching Republicans bow and scrape in front of them, it’s an act of unprecedented cheek.
The latest Trump-ism is his re-Tweeted graphic claiming that Black murder victims are killed by Black offenders 97% of the time. That’s not true, but in their efforts to refute it, the media is being forced to discuss the actual numbers. As we’ll see in a moment, some of those actual numbers are nothing short of terrifying.
I hope I’m not coming off too much like Ezra Pound in the Mussolini era when I express my general admiration for, and approval of, Vladimir Putin. No, I don’t agree with everything he’s done in the past decade, but then again I don’t agree with everything that I’ve done in the past decade. He’s a defender of Christianity in an era where world leaders are tripping over themselves to feed Christians to the metaphorical lions of resurgent Islam. He appears to sincerely believe in the greatness of his nation and his ability to contribute to that greatness.
Most importantly, it turns out that we dig the same tailors.
What have you done so far this weekend? I went shopping for a new washer. Just three weeks after I fixed my Whirlpool Duet Steam dryer by swapping out the control board, its laundry-room companion decided to call it quits. A pressure sensor hasn’t fixed it, clearing out the pressure tube hasn’t helped. The next step is a new control board. Which is expensive. The hell with it. Just getting a new one.
So while I work on getting some things written to pay for the washer, here’s something amusing for you. What happens when Adele enters an Adele-impersonator contest? It’s a really sweet and nice video. Is it ironic that the song the producers chose for Adele impersonators is a Bob Dylan song? And how should Adele feel about the impersonators? Is that really how people see her? Should she be flattered?
Sorry for the lack of updates. I’m not dead. Far from it. Just trying to get everything done while dealing with my day job and my leg.
Come back next week and I’ll have all sorts of stuff for you read. I promise. In the meantime, let’s see what Bark and I managed to get published this week.
It was a serendipitous thing, given the various circumstances and miscarriages and difficulties. Bark’s son and my clone are best friends. They’re very different kids; John is bigger than Kevin despite being fourteen months younger, he is more physical, more outgoing. Kevin, on the other hand, reads at a much higher level than his cousin, plays much more complex video games, and displays the kind of natural leadership that has John following him around most of the time.
Last night, Kevin’s soccer team had an indoor scrimmage and they let John play. Kevin’s already the youngest kid on his team — it’s mostly nine-year-olds — but his teammates know they can rely on him to magically appear between the ball and the goal. John has very little soccer experience but he’s good at knocking older children over, which he set about doing. One of the kids was a head taller than either of the cousins and the third time John put him on the ground I started to have some concerns. Luckily today’s children are more placid than their predecessors.
John was not happy to leave his cousins and come back home, but when your dad is still on crutches sometimes you have to let the old man get some rest in his own bed. Alright, let’s see what John’s dad, and Kevin’s dad, managed to accomplish this past week.