Forgiving Jane Fonda (Already!)

Fifty years ago, actress Jane Fonda, then 36-years-old and famous, was against the war in Vietnam War, like most of her generation and in fact, half if not all of America. While visiting the country she was photographed leaning against a piece of equipment belonging to the North Vietnamese, a.k.a. the Enemy. It was a set-up shot meant to be provocative, and Jane hardly realized where she was sitting.  

From that moment on her haters-- she was thin, rich, beautiful and talented, what's not to hate? -- dubbed her "Hanoi Jane" and to this day, FIFTY YEARS LATER, still call her that and still hate her for it.

These are the same people who forgave Bill Clinton for raping one and abusing countless other women, calling it "his own business." The same people who voted for the lying plagiarist Joe Biden for President. The same people who endorse Kamala Harris, an empty-headed puppet, as the potential leader of the free world. The same pro-Palestinian protesters who condemn Israel for defending itself and embrace the cruel terrorists responsible for the October 7 terrorist massacre. In their minds, they are all good while Jane Fonda is bad.

What they all have in common is the inability to think for themselves. It's a wonder they manage to dress themselves each morning. Oh right, they just put on those expensive, ripped-in-the-knee jeans and trendy sneakers, shine up their tattoos and meet their pathetic, non-thinking peers at Starbuck's for a double-decaf mocha latte or chai tea or whatever else is deemed "in" at the moment. (Bubble tea, anyone?)

Fonda is a wonderful actress who is still going strong at her advanced age. Besides continuing to entertain us in movies and on TV, she has dedicated her life to helping the disadvantaged both at home and abroad. Those losers who still focus on her fleeting mistake in Vietnam, for which she has apologized profusely dozens of times in print, on TV and in person, are simply morons the world would do better without.

The Ugliness of the Democrats

The hate between the two political parties is poisoning daily life. But one party seems more prone to vitriol than the other. While Republicans call Harris a dope, dimwit and cackling fool given to word salads, the Democrats are much harsher in their verbiage. Following is a post I copied from my husband's Facebook page.

 Written by the husband of a dear friend of mine, this father of three -- a lawyer and nice Jewish grandpa in his 70s, -- has this to say about Donald Trump, despite having Republican friends: 

Anyone for President

I read today that Kamala Harris has a plan to "end the unreasonable burden of student loan debt." Her plan is to "forgive" the loan! Just forgive and forget, no payback necessary. Hmm, that sounds familiar... isn't that Joe Biden's plan? 

Oh well -- at least it got me thinking that there must be a better way. Then I came up with a foolproof plan to completely end the burden of student debt for all of us taxpayers, and even the student. Here it is: If you or your parents cannot afford to pay for college, don't go! (Or as Biden would put it,"Don't.")

It's so simple, even a Democrat can understand it. Now I'm thinking that maybe with a plan like that, I should be running instead of Kamala. But to be fair, Anyone should.

The Lowdown on Kamala

A common complaint is that we don't know what she stands for. That's silly. I have been paying attention and I know everything about her that matters in order to make an informed decision. 

Kamala Harris grew up in a middle-class family with her mother and sister and her mother's sister, or maybe her mother's mother, I forget. No mention of where daddy went, but he was a Marxist and left when she was seven. Her mother paid the bills every month sitting at a yellow formica table in her middle-class home in Berkeley, California, on the border of Oakland. She considers herself "a child of Oakland." 

She was a prosecutor in San Francisco where she prosecuted a lot of criminals. She also has known a lot of CEOs of big corporation and spent time with them, so she understands the economy.

If elected, she is going to have an "opportunity economy," giving everyone access to everything they need to succeed. As she said herself, "If you have dreams and aspirations, you are in my plan." Most important, she is going to look at everything holistically.

What more do you need to know?

I Blame Bill Clinton

Billy, blowing.

Until Bill Clinton blew into town, no pun intended, the person occupying the Oval Office possessed a certain amount of dignity, and except for Lyndon Johnson, class. No matter your party affiliation, you could pretty much see that person as "Commander-in-Chief" and leader of the free world. Intelligent, articulate and well above the average man or woman on the street, they almost always instilled confidence  that they could handle a crisis of mammoth proportions with ease. You could sleep well at night, without fear of being awakened by a nuclear bomb landing in your bed.

Then along came Bill Clinton. Blowing on his saxophone -- and a variety of body parts belonging to his longtime mistress Gennifer Flowers, with whom he had a ten-year extra-marital affair pre-dating his election to the presidency -- he took DC by storm with his good looks and southern boy charm. But I was never charmed. Instead he reminded me of all the jocks in high-school who thought they were hot, but were not.

As we all know, in addition to Flowers there was a string of accusers asserting Clinton did everything from exposing himself to forcing them to have oral sex to rape to repeated sex with a young White House intern in the Oval Office. Basically, Clinton was rotten to the core, although pretty good at running the country, I'll give him that. 

Sadly, the acceptance of his heinous conduct by the adoring Democrats as "his personal business" is what led us down the slippery slope to right now, with a total dumbass running for the same office on the Democratic ticket. It's impossible to consider having a good night's sleep with Kamala Harris as the "leader of the free world." Imagine her reaction if we are attacked by a foreign nation in the middle of the night. Keep imagining that when you go to vote on Election Day. Ask yourself, "Is it safe?"*

* (Famous line from the 1976 film "Marathon Man." No, it was not safe. Google it!)

Facing Your Fears

FDR famously said, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." Like most politicians, he was dead wrong; the list of reasonable fears is never-ending. Besides the old standards like the dentist, public speaking and death, new ones pop up daily, Venezuelan drug gangs and exploding pagers among them. 

Since childhood my fears have been of spiders, driving over bridges, childbirth and getting cancer. Facing them directly worked for me with bridges and childbirth; the other two still freak me out. 

Apparently Kamala Harris has a fear of public speaking without a teleprompter, which must be why she won't attend next month's Al Smith Dinner in New York City, a political roast and fundraiser for Catholic charities started in 1945. Harris has claimed a "scheduling conflict." The dinner will be held on a Thursday night -- what's she doing, washing her hair? (Too bad since that would have been fun for everyone, especially Donald Trump who will be in attendance.)

Admittedly, facing your fears is a hard task for everyone. Yesterday my son, now in his mid-thirties, did just that by donating blood for the first time. As a child he was afraid of needles, and that fear has followed him into adulthood as strong discomfort when he gets vaccines and flu shots or has blood work done. But donating blood is a whole other thing, which he chose to do as a charitable act in response to a friend's GoFundMe request. Today he wrote about his experience; following is a brief excerpt: 

"I was afraid. I wanted to, but also, I really didn't want to -- so I didn't think much about it. I just made the appointment and went.

"I was impressed to see how many other people were there to donate. I noticed there weren't many people my age or younger; most of the blood donors were older. The guy on the bench who was next to me had to be about 100. When he was done he popped up with a smile, then sat sipping on a juice box from a straw. For a second I saw him as a 5-year-old boy and wanted to hug him. I thought, if he could do it so could I.

"When I was done and they pulled the needle out, I finally let go and cried. I was glad to have survived and embarrassed it was so hard for me, but also felt compassion for myself and I felt proud."

Facing your fears always makes you feel better -- more in control of yourself and of life in general. Now if I could just get over my fear of a Harris victory in November I might stop crying all the time.

What Kamala Wants

Like me, you might be a bit confused about what Kamala Harris stands for. After all this time of listening very carefully to the scraps of chit-chat between the hilarity and joy of the Democratic Party leaders who tell her what to think, I have gleaned the following tidbits concerning what a Harris/Walz administration will look like. Following are the things Kamala wants -- Tim doesn't matter.

She wants adulation, and if you can believe the polls and the campaign ads she's gotten it already. 

She wants women to have abortions, lots of abortions, whenever and wherever the mood strikes.

She wants immigrants, lots of immigrants -- legal or illegal, who cares as long as they vote for her. (Yes, she wants them to vote.)

She wants transgender surgery for those immigrants who choose it, and of course, also for prisoners. Who wouldn't want to change their sex while doing time? 

She wants to make history as the first half-Jamaican, half-Indian, female President. (Also black on some days.)

She wants fracking, or she doesn't want fracking -- depends on who's asking.

She wants people to pronounce her name correctly.

That's all I've got so far.

No More Fat-Shaming

I think I'm coming down with a touch of obesity. I have no idea where I caught it but according to an article in today's New York Times it is our "biggest health problem" and has infected 40% of American adults, so it could have been anywhere. 

There was a lady in the supermarket ahead of me in line a few weeks ago who had a really bad case. (See photo.) I wasn't even wearing a mask. Was I standing too close to her?

I always thought it was because I was eating too many fattening foods, but now I understand it's a disease. So I might as well eat that brownie and that bag of potato chips, and whatever else I want. They might make me feel better.

Film Review: AD ASTRA

Brad, brooding.

I should be mature enough to resist saying this, but a more appropriate name for the 2019 film Ad Astra would have been Ad Nauseam. It droned on and on for two hours (and three minutes, but who's counting), making the same point over and over again. The trouble is, it was hard to tell what that point was. 

It might have been something about fathers (Tommy Lee Jones)  and sons (Brad Pitt), or it might have been something about pay attention to your wife (Liv Tyler) or she will leave you, or who knows, something else entirely. Among the bad things: 

1. The script, its plot loosely plagiarized from the far superior Apocalypse Now, with the planet Neptune playing Vietnam and astronauts instead of soldiers, was embarrassing. I actually felt sorry for the actors for having to utter such trite dialog.

2. The acting was minimal, or to put it more kindly, low-key. The formerly great spitfire, Tommy Lee Jones, seemed like he was on Quaaludes. Donald Sutherland, one of my all-time favorite actors who died five years after making the film, seemed already dead and embalmed. Pretty-boy Brad Pitt, whose face filled the screen almost every second -- mostly peering through the plastic shield of his space helmet -- showed no emotion whatsoever, unless brooding is an emotion. (Supposedly his character was stoic.) And Liv Tyler spoke perhaps ten words the whole time, and that was on video.

3. The scenes showing "outer space" were stale, showing nothing new or exciting. We've seen far better in past great movies, like Gravity, Apollo 13, The Martian and First Man.

Some good things:

1. The musical score was haunting.

2. The opening credits were pretty and the closing credits were a total gas to watch! They went on forever, almost as long as the movie itself (I'm exaggerating), listing everyone and their mother including the assistant to the assistant caterer, the guy who changed the lightbulbs on the set, and all the drivers of all the people who needed to go somewhere during filming.

All the professional critics loved it, which tells you something.

Job Hunting In 2024

Just for fun, since they didn't hire me 15 years ago when I was a lot younger and thus more attractive and not as cynical, I applied to be a sales clerk at the store that is the reason people come to Freeport, Maine. You know, the place that sells duck boots. (see photo)

The online application asked some questions I bristled at, like, "What is your sexual orientation?" How could that matter to anyone shopping for clothing or home goods or guns or anything but sex toys, which this place definitely does not stock? But the oddest was a question about gender identification, with one of the options being "Two Spirit." Did being a Gemini count, I wondered. I left that one blank.

It reminded of the time I was at Macy's and the sales clerk -- white haired, pudgy, about 80 years old -- sported a name tag that said: "My name is Carol, my pronouns are She/Her." I asked her if all employees  had to wear one of those and she said yes. Again, I was buying underwear; did it matter to me what this lady did in the privacy of her own bedroom, or even at an S&M club like the now-defunct New York City dungeon, Pandora's Box? For all I knew she was another Mistress Raven on her days off, but did I care? (Just take my money and give me my undies -- like Bill Clinton, your sex life is your business.)

So I am perplexed why this retail organization where I applied to work as a sales clerk wants to know my sexual orientation. Do they have wild parties after hours? Are they secretly sex traffickers with ties to Sean Combs? Is Harvey Weinstein on the Board of Directors? Really, none of it matters since I came out as Jewish on my application. That ought to eliminate me from consideration even before they find out I'm straight and white. 

America's Short-Term Memory Problem

Most people old enough to vote in the upcoming election can remember what things were like when Donald Trump was President from 2016 to 2020. In case you are one of those who suffer from Alzheimer's, either back then or right now, I'm so sorry and you are excused. But the rest of you should be able to recall quite easily that things in America, and the world for that matter, were a lot better under Trump. 

I won't run down the list of how things were better since Trump and his vocal proponents do that just about every day. But apparently to no avail, since every last Democrat insists things were terrible during his years in office. And according to a recent poll, more than half of them think the country would be better off without him alive. (Hence the second attempt on his life earlier this week.) This blanket avoidance of reality is pure rubbish. Still, it's all they've got since the truth hurts.

Every time I see a house with Harris/Walz sign out front, I literally experience a wave of compassion for the people who live there. Either the occupants suffer from dementia or they are simply not sharp enough to notice the wool that's been pulled over their eyes by the likes of Anderson Cooper, Whoopie Goldberg, Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, CNN, MSNBC, The New York Times and the whole late-night crew of washed-up comedians. 

Surely nobody can be so dense as to believe that Kamala Harris is equipped to control our country's future, even though she grew up in a middle-class neighborhood where people cared about their lawns and her mother held two jobs and she's prosecuted criminals and her step-kids call her "Momala" and she loves yellow school buses. That's all good stuff, but it's just not enough.

Most important but hardly discussed, Harris chants that it's time to "turn the page." But hey, she's on the very page she wants to turn! What about that?

I Wish I Were A Turkey

Reading the news with my morning coffee, my mood worsened with each story: Twenty people killed and 450 injured by exploding devices in Beirut. Sean "P Diddy" Combs, millionaire superstar rapper, will rot in jail waiting for his trial on sex trafficking charges. Tupperware declares bankruptcy. Several attendees sitting behind Trump at one of his rallies were sprayed with toxic eye irritants that sent them to the ER. A new children's Golden Book tells the story of the romance between Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift. Putin calls up more troops to fight Ukraine. Wrong-way crash killed three on a Michigan highway.

And more like that. My good mood was replaced with a dark sense of foreboding about the future. Then, suddenly, a flock of turkeys exited from the woods behind our house, arriving one by one and filling the backyard. There was an obvious Mom and Dad and 14 youngsters, each one pecking in the grass for food. It was thrilling to see them hopping around and flapping their wings, running this way and that and looking like they had not a care in the world. 

The awesome sight brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to shout at them to get away, go back to the forest, leave civilization before Thanksgiving when hundreds of thousands of their kind will be killed and eaten by hundreds of thousands of our kind, but instead chose not to disturb their breakfast. 

When they left I was filled with a profound sadness, finally understanding how Tony Soprano felt when the ducks left his swimming pool.

Making Sense With Kamala

Young Kamala, already saving money!

Walking around my neighborhood this afternoon and noticing the proliferation of Harris lawn signs, I was forced to speculate on why anyone not confined to a lunatic asylum would vote for her, and came up with the following explanation. 

In a recent interview (I saw on YouTube) with an earnest journalist (I never heard of), Kamala finally answered a question. Hooray! The man asked her to explain her economic policy, specifically what she would do to lower costs for things like food and other necessities. Harris was quick to explain that she was raised by her mother (who held two jobs) in a middle-class neighborhood where people cared about their lawns.

So I guess caring for your lawn is how to lower costs. That explains all the lawn signs springing up --  people are just wanting to save money. And who could blame them?

Art For Sale

 I submitted the oil paintings shown above to a local juried show. 

Still waiting to see if any are accepted. 

Let me know if you like any or have a favorite.

Who Needs A President Anyway?

Right. now, this minute, who is in charge? Do we have a President today? It certainly isn't Joe Biden, who's been MIA for weeks now, or Kamala Harris, out campaigning, or anyone as far as I can tell. Suppose a space ship from another planet lands in the middle of a field in Kansas this afternoon, dispensing aliens seeking to do us harm. Who would decide what to do? 

So maybe we don't need a President after all. Think of the money we could save: Flying Air Force One costs $177,000 an hour. The annual budget for Secret Service protection of the current administration and their families was $3 billion last year. And just one state dinner at the White House runs about half a million.

All that for what? Remind me.

What's So Hateable About Trump?

Many people, mostly Democrats, seem to have forgotten that things were going swimmingly during Trump's four years as our President. In fact, the worst thing about his time in office was how much we had to see that weasel Rep. Adam Schiff of California -- a.k.a. Pencil Neck -- who famously started impeachment proceedings 15 minutes after Trump's inauguration. We also had to endure a whole lot of Nancy Pelosi's false accusations about Russian collusion, all the while her dentures --  or was it her bones? -- rattling disturbingly each time.  

Other than that, and constant harping and carping by the overpaid, bloviating talking heads on CNN and MSNBC, things were pretty damn good for most Americans. So why is he now the target of assassins, the second attempt occurring just hours ago in Florida, when all he wants to do is make things better?

What is it that people who hate Trump actually hate, and why do they hate that so much? It's a serious question, and I invite answers that do not contain the words, "orange, racist or hair."

Giggling Idiots Eating Pets

Upon careful reflection of the current political scene, I have concluded that the old saying -- no matter who said it -- that "We get the leaders we deserve," is right on the money. And here in America, no matter who we get we will have deserved him/her.

Americans are a foolish lot. They staunchly believe they rule the world despite being very low on the global rankings of our students in everything that matters, and high on the list of big, fat beef-eaters having heart attacks, strokes and cancer.

They eschew thoughtful tomes written by great philosophers of the past or present, preferring claptrap called "beach reads" pushed by the advertisers in The New York Times Book Review. They binge-watch inane TV shows and dutifully follow fads created by the evil geniuses who rake in all the dough. Examples: They paint their houses "This Year's Color" and traipse around in jeans ripped to shreds, paying extra for each hole. 

They pierce themselves in the nose and the tongue and anywhere else they can think of, making even pretty people look hideous. As for the tattoos -- OMG, don't even get me started. Is there anything worse than a really fat lady sporting a tattoo of a dainty rose on her elephantine calf?

Unthinking, uncaring, undisciplined and unoriginal sheep, they will vote for whoever they are told by the likes of the moronic ladies on "The View," who surely embody the nadir of artistic endeavors. And they don't even know what nadir means. (Relax, dear reader, I'm certainly not talking about you.)

Both presidential candidates of the moment lack the depth, strength, equanimity and intellect to lead a great nation. But America is no longer a great nation, as evidenced by the very candidates themselves: Trump wrongly repeats that immigrants are eating people's cats and dogs, while Kamala is simply a giggling idiot who promises free housing and health care for Venezuelan drug lords and free transgender surgery for prisoners. 

Out of our 337,088,081 citizens, it's inconceivable that we haven't found just two better leaders. But then, apparently we got who we deserve. 

The Ups and Downs of Home Improvement

Last Monday at 8am, a band of workmen arrived to install our home air-conditioning, or heat pump, or whatever you call it that will cool the house in summer and warm it in winter, turning my semi-reclusive artist's retreat into a chaotic construction site. And all because of global warming, which supposedly will continue to worsen, and after forking over many thousands of dollars I certainly hope it does.

But the guys -- a rotating cast of seven from Dave's World -- were so nice, they made the process of tearing up walls, drilling holes in ceilings and raining insulation dust onto everything a good time. Don't ask my cat, however, as after this week, during which Lurch got trapped in the ceiling for 28 hours, he will surely require Prozac, or maybe shock therapy, if he even lives through this -- at age 16 he is definitely on his ninth life. 

During the worst of it I reflected on the cavemen and women -- back then there were only the two genders -- who endured intense heat waves without central air, or even a window unit. Or even a window. They were a lot tougher than we are now, I'm guessing. (Except for dying young and eventually becoming extinct.)

Haitians Eating Cats

A bizarre news story has been popping up here and there online over the last few days, in part because of Republican VP candidate J.D. Vance mentioning it in a speech, about Haitian immigrants eating people's pets in Springfield, Ohio, a small town that has grown by 15,000 immigrants in the last two years. Then Donald Trump mentioned it in his debate last night with Kamala Harris.

I haven't read any of the stories because they are usually written so badly and are so biased, but I know one thing and one thing for sure: Haitians definitely do eat cats. I witnessed this alarming menu choice in person when I visited Haiti in 2013. 

I did not eat any cats but saw plenty of them laid out on hibachis and over fire pits in many Haitian backyards. However, I have no idea if the cats that were being eaten were domesticated.

Personally, to be on the safe side I stuck with rice and beans.

Kamala's Hair Won the Debate

Okay, so I watched that stupid debate which ran past my bedtime and made me oversleep this morning, making me late for a mess of things. And for what? To see that our country is in big trouble and headed for even bigger trouble? Following are my so-called "take-aways" from last night's debacle between Trump and Harris:

1. Neither candidate even came close to answering the questions put to them by the moderators -- they never do in these things -- so why do they even bother asking them? It should just be a free-for-all shouting match, possibly even a food fight involving mashed potatoes and ripe tomatoes. My favorite unanswered questions were directed at Kamala, the first from moderator David Muir: "Have you ever met Putin?" No response whatsoever, instead she went on to say how much Trump sucks for like the tenth time. And B, from Donald Trump: "If you disagree with the tariffs I placed on China and other countries, why have you not removed them in the last four years?" Again, no response, it was like she didn't even hear the question.

This woman is definitely Black.

2. Donald Trump was his worst self, getting angry and rehashing old hurts. But then who could blame him? Enough already with the tiki-torches in Charlottesville and Trump saying there were very fine people on both sides, which Kamala had the balls (I think she really does have some) to bring up AGAIN!

3. Kamala kept saying over and over, "I have a plan." Okay, okay, we heard you -- so what is your damn plan already?

4. Kamala smirked that people leave Trump's rallies early because they are "bored" and "tired." Maybe because they started to line up at six in the morning for a rally that will start at five pm -- they want to see him that much. (That's almost as early as we lined up for Beatles tickets.)

5. The moderator quoted Trump saying that Kamala "is not black, or is she?" Well, judging by her long, straight and silky hair -- which looked fantastic last night BTW, I wonder what she uses, or was it a wig? Whatever, she certainly does not have black hair, that's obvious. (See photo.) No wonder Trump is confused.

So yes, Trump blew it last night but I'm voting for him anyway because he went in cold, whereas Kamala  likely had gotten the questions beforehand from Donna Brazile, an old hand at such tactics. (Google it.) And hey -- was there an earpiece hidden in that long, flowing white-lady hair? (Barack, is that you?)

What Are Pets For?

Beginning in childhood I have lived with a changing parade of dogs, cats and parakeets, except for when I was single in my thirties. The joys of new motherhood aside, those pet-less years were the best of my life. I was free to go anywhere, anytime. Spontaneity was my middle name. Take off to Europe for a few weeks? No problem. Go away for the weekend? Sounds great! Now a retired empty-nester in my 70s, nevertheless I remain tethered -- all because of a cat. 

Specifically Lurch, our 16-year-old Maine Coon, the last in a long line of adorable, loving, fluffy and furry four-footed companions. While he is still all that, in his latter years he's become somewhat of a demanding, demented, picky pain in the ass, making me wonder why so many people, specifically me, opt for pets in the first place. 

I wondered this a lot yesterday when, in the midst of a home renovation project involving several workers drilling holes into walls and generally causing a ruckus, Lurch freaked out and ran directly into the maelstrom, falling into an opening in an attic-type space between the second and first floors of our house from which he could not exit unassisted.

Sparing the details, which are ugly, I'll say that his entrapment lasted a little over 25 hours, during which many tears were shed by yours truly. Lurch too cried mournfully for much of the time, his pitiful wails echoing through the walls. But despite my husband and I creating an exit strategy for him he stayed put, avoiding freedom and instead making our lives miserable. 

I worried he would die up there with no food or water or fresh air. But so what if he had? All the pets that came before him had died, bringing me unspeakable sadness each time. What's another dead cat anyway, I asked myself. He's just a cat, I told myself. Lots of people never have any pets, I reasoned. Thinking of all the money he's cost us in food alone -- forget pet-sitters and vet bills and that $150 for the pet psychic that time he was lost -- I put a pillow over my head and cried myself to sleep.

First thing this morning my son came to our aid and somehow, employing a combination of dexterity and determination, rescued both Lurch and my sanity. Now the cat is safely in custody under my bed, seemingly asleep but possibly suffering from PTSD from his harrowing experience. I know I am. And I'm wondering why.

Pity the Poor Children

Future Spiderman

Like most people I have many bad habits, but some of them are really bad. The worst is my penchant for reading the comments following articles I read or videos I watch online. I should just ignore them and move along, but instead I wallow in the stupidity of the masses and get depressed.

For example, I've been following the videos of a man who cooks dinner for his family every night. Despite his admirable kitchen skills, all of his recipes are unhealthy: carb-heavy with nary a vegetable or piece of fish in sight. He uses bread as a vegetable, as in one video where the main course was a meatball sandwich on a giant hero bun, served with two large garlic breadsticks on the side.  

Unlike the hateful comments that are commonplace on the internet, the glowing comments of this guy's followers are even more shocking. Everyone, and I mean everyone, applauds his dinners of beef, chicken or pork smothered in cheese and gravy and served with rice, pasta or potatoes and plenty of MSG. The viewing chorus gushes about what a wonderful dad, husband and cook he is:

"I love bread too!"

"I love seeing someone use canned chicken, it's great!"

"Looks yummy!"

"You're so creative!"

"You are perfect! Your wife is so lucky!"

"Can I move in with you?"

Obesity currently poses a serious threat to all of us, especially our children. The following is from the National Institute of Health: "Childhood and adolescent obesity have reached epidemic levels in the United States, affecting the lives of millions of people. In the past three decades, the prevalence of childhood obesity has more than doubled in children and tripled in adolescents."

I wonder what the lifespan of an American will be in 50 years. And if we keep eating like this, will there be any of us left in 50 years?

Bring Back The Friendly Skies

Tulsi Gabbard, the former Democratic congresswoman from Hawaii who left the party, has recently endorsed Donald Trump for president and openly criticizes the policies of Joe Biden and his lap dog, Kamala Harris. 

She now claims that she has been targeted as a terrorist by the TSA and has been put on their "Quiet Skies" list as a possible enemy of the state. This has resulted in Gabbard and her husband being pulled aside for questioning whenever they fly and having their bags checked, a humiliating process that takes about 45 minutes every time.

I have also endorsed Donald Trump for president and openly criticize the policies of Biden and Harris. Am I an enemy of the state? I haven't flown recently so it's hard to know if I'm on any watch lists, though I tend to doubt it since I'm a nobody and have never held any political office. But random surveillance of the citizenry at large seems to be the direction the US is heading, and a Democratic win in November should seal the deal.

Today's "Quiet Skies" are very different from the "Friendly Skies" of the 1960s. I liked those much better; at the very least you got snacks.

Every Day Is Halloween In America

I feel confident in saying that if you are reading this post you are not stupid. Okay, I'm no Einstein or Mailer or Capote or even Stephen King, and this blog is not Shakespeare, but nobody who is a complete moron would have come to it however you came to it. So let's talk about stupid people since there aren't any of them here to be offended.

First, the people who will vote for Kamala Harris for president are surely the dumbest of them all. While it's clear that many, if not most, Democrats simply want to maintain power in the White House at any cost, the fact that Harris will, if elected, be in control of our nuclear weapons, meet (alone, without a chaperone) with foreign leaders and represent America to the world is enough reason to deny her the office. Add to that the horror of seeing her ugly face and hearing her moronic cackle every day, in print and on the airwaves, is a sobering and frightening thought.

Next are the people who follow celebrities as if they matter. The ones who swoon over Taylor Swift and her boyfriend Travis Kelce. Let's remember, she's a singer and he plays football. (Quick, name the two astronauts stuck at the Space Station until next February.)

Then there are the big fat fatties who drink Coke and Pepsi for no reason since they are not thirst-quenching, think Starbucks sells coffee and not desserts, eat boxed cereals like Lucky Charms and Kix for breakfast and consider French fries a vegetable, making 43% of Americans clinically obese.

Lastly there are the true believers who keep getting the latest vaccine for Covid even though they can still get Covid anyway, which BTW is no big deal anymore but cancer is and nobody is working on a vaccine for that. (From the beginning of the Covid epidemic in 2019 to 2021, Anthony Fauci's net worth grew from $5 million to over $12.6 million. How?)

 You can hate me for saying all of the above, but that doesn't make any of it not true. Admit it: it's scary out there, and not just on Halloween.

If You've Got Money to Burn....

The other day I was out walking and a woman passed by with the most adorable dog I had ever seen. Naturally I stopped them and fawned all over the pup, peppering its owner with questions as to what breed of dog, where did she get it, how old -- that kind of thing. I was in love. (With the dog.) 

Then today, at the supermarket of all places, another woman had a similar dog, equally adorable. She and I talked and it turned out that both dogs were Bernedoodles from the same breeder in Salt Lake City.

I had to have one of those dogs! 

My husband and I have gone back and forth on the issue since our last dog died many years ago: It's too heartbreaking. But they are so much fun! It's sad when they get sick. But they are so loving! They make it hard to travel. They fill the house with life! Etc., etc., etc. I really, really wanted one. 

I tried to talk myself out of it, but this dog was so special that I went forward with the fantasy and took the first step. I checked out the breeder and saw pictures of the puppies currently available. There were so many! And all of them so cute! How to choose? Then I saw the prices: $5,000 for this one. $4,500 for that one. $3,800 for another. A bargain at $3,000. (What's wrong with him?) End of fantasy. 

I pity all the rich people who don't know what the heck to do with their money.

Kamala Harris Did It

Apparently I killed four people yesterday and I didn't even know it until I read it in the paper this morning! The shooting in a Georgia high school by a 14-year-old student is being blamed by every Democrat with access to the internet on all Republicans, because of their "love of guns."

I am a Republican. I have never owned a gun, held a gun, or even been in the same room with a gun. My parents did not own guns, although to be fair they were both lifelong Democrats so that must explain it. 

To be clear: I hate violence, I am a pacifist and I am pretty sure I did not even leave my house yesterday. So please don't blame me for some crazy kid's crazy behavior. In fact, if you have to blame anyone besides the person who pulled the trigger, blame Kamala Harris. After all, as our current vice-president she oversees the White House Office of Gun Violence Prevention, and has done absolutely nothing to stop it. What good is she?

Addiction Comes in All Shapes and Sizes

"Studies have shown that doing jigsaw puzzles can improve cognition and visual-spatial reasoning. Using the puzzle as an exercise of the mind can spark imagination and increase both your creativity and productivity."

I found the preceding quote on a medical website touting the benefits of doing jigsaw puzzles as a way to stave off dementia and even increase your lifespan. As someone who has been deep into jigsaw puzzles since the start of the Covid epidemic in 2020, I say "poppycock." In fact I would go so far as to say the opposite is true: doing a jigsaw puzzle requires no imagination or creativity whatsoever, only good eyesight. And it certainly lessens your productivity.

For example, beds go unmade, dishes go undone and home renovation projects lay dormant once you've got a new puzzle going. Also, if you start one shortly before bedtime, promising you'll find "just one more piece," you can count on losing valuable hours of sleep since it's almost impossible to stop once you get going. And any doctor will tell you, sleep is much more vital to an increased lifespan than jigsaw puzzles.

Speaking from experience, you know you've got a problem when you dream about doing jigsaw puzzles. To be safe, if you don't do them don't start, and if you're already hooked, try to cut back. And for God's sake, don't let your kids get near one.

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Who Says I'm A Mess?

On a recent walk in our little town of Freeport, I was stunned to see a brand new, pretty big -- dare I say huge -- sign posted in the parking lot of the CVS pharmacy hawking vaccines for Covid and the flu. For free, and no appointments necessary. Walk-ins welcome, just come on down!

WTF? According to the CDC, the latest Covid vaccine  offers protection for "a couple of months." Then what? Should we get another one? And then another? Who is benefitting, and who made that sign?

Everywhere you look there are reminders that we are simply not good enough without some help. Unseen forces push products aimed at fixing our bodies and our minds. One popular example is the drug Prevagen. What started as an FDA-approved aid for people diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's and experiencing memory loss is now targeted at any and all "cognitively normal" adults who want a "sharper mind" and "clearer thinking." And really, who among us doesn't want that? Sounds good to me!

BTW, you have to take Prevagen for three months before you realize improvements in cognitive function ..... maybe. A report by Forbes states, "There are no peer-reviewed, independent, clinical studies available to support the health claims made directly by the makers of Prevagen regarding the product’s efficacy. "

Even if your parents told you that you were perfect in every way, that you were made in God's image, and that they wouldn't change a thing about you, as an adult the overriding message we all receive is that we need a drug, or a hearing aid, or a muscle relaxer, or a laxative, or a sleep aid, or a probiotic, or a vitamin supplement just to make it through the day. And that's if we are healthy.

I like what my parents told me better.

Beware of Siri, et al.

More than a vacuum cleaner?

If you are one of those trusting people who believe that Siri and Alexa and that vacuum cleaner rolling around the premises picking up dust bunnies are making your life easier, all I can say is, "Oh grow up!" I would also suggest you read Orwell's 1984 if you haven't yet.

Last night I dined with a group of friends. The six of us all had cell phones within earshot. We talked about possibly taking a Viking cruise along the Danube River. This morning my Facebook stream is full of ads for Viking cruises along the Danube River.

This is nothing new. I often get ads on Facebook for handbags -- having bought a few of them online it's easy to see how that happens, capitalism being what it is. But I have never been on a cruise, Viking or otherwise, and yet somehow my phone "heard" me talking about it last night. I would say this qualifies as alarming.

One can only imagine who or what is listening to everything you say when you have one of those helpful home assistants hanging around. My advice is to trash the thing and get up and do whatever it is that needs doing by yourself. And for God's sake, get rid of that MAGA hat before they come for you.

Celebrating the End of Summer

Amid all the Trump hate and Kamala love in today's New York Times, an article entitled "How Should We Mourn the End of Summer?" caught my eye. The author moans, "The season's conclusion can spark a sense of loss" because "the plans and possibilities of summer cease." She/he grieves the kayaks and beach chairs being stored for the winter and those speculative camping trips that never happened. All I can say about that is "Boo-fucking-hoo."

Where I live in Maine, summer pretty much sucks. A common misconception is that it's always colder up here, but our summer is often as brutal as anywhere, except of course in Florida, Phoenix and Hades. 

Not only does it get very, very hot and very, very humid on many, if not most days from June through September, sometimes into October, but we have bugs like nobody's business. Green flies that bite. Black flies that bite. Mosquitoes, of course that bite. And most especially, our very own Browntail moths, which are found nowhere else but in Africa and New England and which make you want to tear your skin off. Here's a bit of info about them from the CDC website:

The browntail moth is an invasive species found only in Maine and Cape Cod. This moth is an insect of both forest and human health concern. 

The browntail moth caterpillar has tiny poisonous hairs that cause dermatitis similar to poison ivy on sensitive individuals. Most people affected by the hairs develop a localized rash that will last for a few hours up to several days but on sensitive individuals the rash can be severe and last for several weeks, or longer. 

The rash results from both a chemical reaction to a toxin in the hairs and a physical irritation as the barbed hairs become embedded in the skin. 

Respiratory distress from inhaling the hairs can be serious. Caterpillars are active from April to late June. Hairs remain toxic throughout the summer but get washed into the soil and are blah, blah, blah ....

As one of those "sensitive individuals" I celebrate the end of summer, which by the way will not come for another three weeks. So all you sad sacks take heart: There's still plenty of time left to contract Eastern Equine Encephalitis (EEE), the latest designer mosquito bite that can kill, or maybe get sun poisoning or lose a limb to a shark or succumb to dehydration or drown in your overturned kayak. 

As my father would say, it could happen.