"Your one-stop source for improper ideology and freedom seeds."
… 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.
In the 1980s DoD policy forbid airing partisan commentary on common area TVs and radios. CNN, which in those days was a pure news outlet offering around the clock international and domestic reporting, was authorized, and it ran in the background on TV monitors at military command headquarters and the Pentagon.
A few months ago I broke the Half-Mind Weblog, my Hash House Harrier blog. It’s still online, now an archive site featuring hash-related musings written between 1995 and early 2019. When it broke I said future hashing posts would appear here on Paul’s Thing, the blog you’re reading now. Honestly, though, there hasn’t been much: one or two “mash trashes,” post-ride […]
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.