Thirteen Days to Go
Different shirts, same assholes. They were fascists then and they’re fascists now.
"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter." —Mark Twain
Different shirts, same assholes. They were fascists then and they’re fascists now.
Before I hit the kitchen, here are a couple of thoughts weighing on my mind.
Donna and I celebrated New Year’s Eve with dinner and a movie: I grilled steaks, which we ate on trays while watching Harrison Ford chew up the scenery in Air Force One.
You know, it’s a miracle I’m still around.
To those who say it’s been a disastrous year, I say we don’t appreciate how good we have it.
Christmas 2020’s going to live on in the collective memory, isn’t it?
It’s not exactly an aviation story, or a Christmas one either, but it’s aviation-adjacent and that’s not all: there’s winter, snow, and a happy ending.
Looking back at some of my earlier pre-Christmas blog posts, maybe I have a touch of seasonal depression. Well, at least I’m in good company, right?