"Your one-stop source for improper ideology and freedom seeds."
What’s going on in my life
… when I look at what passes today for free online and electronically-delivered written content … long posts that nobody reads on Facebook, threaded posts on Twitter, Tumblr and Storify accounts, email newsletters … it’s hard to figure out why these forms are any better than the traditional weblog.
… we were raised by parents who thought answering the phone with an anonymous hello was rude. We were taught to answer by saying “Woodford residence,” similar to the way receptionists answer with a cheery “Doctor Smith’s office,” or “Acme Plumbing.”
Well, this has been a thoroughly domestic post, hasn’t it? I find I have nothing worth saying about outside news and events. People in the news are being awful as usual, but down at this lowly un-newsworthy level I’m trying to be better.
Meanwhile, that pretty little Cessna 172 at Pima Air and Space speaks to me every time I walk or drive past it, and no wonder. I lost my virginity to one of its sisters.
It’s okay to be whoever and whatever you are, including white, but it’s not okay to say “it’s okay to be white.” Those are code words used by the alt-right. Saying “it’s okay to be white” is the equivalent of waving an All Lives Matter sign at a Black Lives Matter demonstration: your meaning is clear to everyone.
I don’t think of myself as a conformist, although I served on active duty and wore a uniform every day for 24 years. Even today, I feel proud when I put on my uniform shirt to go work at the air museum. I’m still me, but I’m happy to represent institutions I believe in and voluntarily join, and feel like wearing their colors … no different than a Hash House Harrier or Hells Angel … sets me apart.
Color me shocked to learn Trump has found a new way to prop up his money-losing businesses.
These are the best mornings. Up early, walking through the neighborhood while it’s still cool, policing the back yard for dog poop, coffee and a hot muffin for breakfast, a devoted dog by my side, the rest of the morning mine to write, read, or whatever I want to do.