"When I do not want to say things in real life I often say them here." — Mimi Smartypants
You Can’t Read That! is a periodic post featuring banned book reviews and news roundups. YCRT! Announcement Thirteen may be an inauspicious number, but it’s the number of years I’ve been writing about banned books, first for Paul’s Thing and later for Daily Kos, posting links on social media whenever I publish a new one. In that […]
Latest project: weaning myself off ibuprofen. I’ve been taking it on days I know my new knee’s going to get a workout, Tuesdays and Thursdays when I hit the gym for example, bicycling Saturdays, and Mondays, when I know I’ll be walking and on my feet all day at the air museum. Everyone says ibuprofen […]
I don’t have a high opinion of presidents in general, but I didn’t appreciate the importance of the leadership they provide until Trump took office and there wasn’t any.
Worst are the clumps of old coots who insist on standing right in front of this or that car while swapping long stories about the days when they drove similar ones … look, Nostalgia Man, every swinging dick in his 70s drove a 1950s car back in the day.
Well, I call it the Air Force Museum (and so does everybody else, including the people who work there), but in reality it’s the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force, located at Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio. And it’s one of the holy grails of the air museum world. I had an opportunity to visit in the early 1980s, when I flew […]
When my sisters and I were children, our father made sure we visited his parents, brothers, and sister, and as a result we knew all our cousins. Our mother was an only child, and while we knew a few aunts, uncles, and once- or twice-removed cousins on Mom’s side, in my memory we were closer […]
So. We’re back from our trip to Missouri, Illinois, and Ohio. We landed in Tucson late Friday night. I would have started updating this blog sooner, but first there was Saturday’s car show at the Gregory School, an annual event I try never to miss; a nine-to-five shift at my friend Ed’s garage Sunday, wrenching on my […]
This is my lunch bag, which I’ve decided to nickname Brett. Brett tells me he’s been the victim of a calculated and orchestrated political hit fueled with apparent pent-up anger about President Trump and the 2016 election, fear that has been unfairly stoked about his sandwich molestation record, revenge on behalf of the Clintons, and millions of dollars in money from […]