Sports 2025

Let’s begin with Jalen Carter, the star Philadelphia Eagles Center who, even before the first snap of the ball, inaugurated the NFL season by being ejected for spitting on the uniform of opposing Dallas quarterback Dak Presott.

The referee is reaching for his flag to call an “unsportsmanlike conduct” penalty on Carter before his ejection.

Let’s switch to tennis. A Polish millionaire snatched a hat away from a child, becoming for this act, the most vilified adult in America.* (*Not counting Trump, of course). Within a day the hat snatcher was identified, and his business received countess 1 star ratings. This one had a happier ending, though. When the tennis player discovered what had happened he met the boy in the locker room afterwards and greeted him with a new signed hat. And the millionaire issued a heartfelt apology, too, going from the doghouse to the penthouse.

Switching sports. The white-shirted baseball-hat-wearing man took the ball from the hands of the gentleman in blue.

The announcer said, “Wait a second, give it to a kid,” play-by-play man Gary Cohen added. “[He] took it away from an old guy.”

But why stop here? Baseball brings out the very best in us, and fans aren’t the only perpetrators. Enter the internet sleuths. Let’s all go to Miami for this brazen episode last night.

The woman in white is demanding that the man give her a home run baseball that she claimed he took from her.

This one has layers. The video shows the ball landing among fans and empty seats. There is a scramble. The man walks away with the ball and gives it to his son. The woman storms over to the man and demands the ball. Preventing a dispute, he takes the ball out of his son’s mitt and gives it to her. Fans boo the woman. She flips off the entire section.

“Thankfully, the Marlins’ stadium staff went out of their way to make things right, hooking up the fan who was briefly without the home run ball with a new ball and a prize pack. After the game, the Phillies made sure to give the fan an unforgettable moment as well, with Bader coming out to meet the family and offer up a signed bat.” (Sports Illustrated).

The account concludes, “All of that said, please, if you or a loved one happens to be in the stands when a home run ball is hit, or a player offers a fan their hat, or anything of the sort occurs and puts you in a position to possibly nab a souvenir, please just be normal about it.”

But what is “normal?” We are living in an age of intolerance, lies, distrust, and fear. Normal isn’t normal at all.

P.S. There’s a footnote to this story. The woman was mis-identified According to the website House and Whips, “names began circulating, with Cheryl Richardson-Wagner emerging as the primary suspect. Rumors spread that she was a 67-year-old nurse from Moorestown, New Jersey, working in social services, and even that she had been fired from her job due to the backlash. Wrong. Similarly, the Hammonton School District in New Jersey issued a statement clarifying that the woman was not and had never been their employee, adding a touch of humor: “Anyone who works for our school district… would obviously have caught the ball bare-handed.”

While the woman’s actions were widely criticized, the rush to identify her led to misinformation and harassment of innocent individuals. The incident also sparked conversations about sportsmanship and empathy, with many echoing the sentiment, “Balls and pucks should always go to the nearest kid.”

P.S.S. Announcers at the US Open Men’s Final have been warned not to comment on the expected boos that will rain down on #47 who is planning to attend. I wish I could be there to add my voice.




An Assessment

Ty Cobb - DJT’s former attorney. This is harsh. I have verified that he indeed said this.

This is from Trump’s former lawyer Ty Cobb. He was a former member of the Trump legal team and he speaks out:

[Trump] is worse than anyone in our history in my experience and opinion. As people seem to have forgotten, I was very critical of Biden and despite knowing him and his family well, I spent 4 years writing about his cognitive decline and weak foreign policy. He had competent advisors though including very decent men as AG and head of the FBI.

While you could fairly question their effectiveness you couldn’t doubt their character. Trump has real contempt for the country, appoints wholly unqualified people to key positions and just kicked 12 million people off Medicaid, eliminated child food support and killed worldwide healthcare efforts monitoring pandemic producing diseases including Ebola (among countless other dangerous things).

His tariffs, like his bibles, crypto and extortion of colleges and media companies and his efforts to rewrite history, are purely personal, corrupt and have zero policy based support. They are just exercises in the power he craves so intensely. He has and will continue to damage our economy and the world’s, and our culture, until and unless he is stopped.

Fortunately, the courts have shut down his Constitutional overreach in over 180 cases—96% of the cases he has brought or defended in the last six months—but without Congress, which has been neutered by its collective cowardice, the tide cannot turn completely. We are more vulnerable economically and on national security than ever before in history as he and Hegseth have rendered the military unprepared by eliminating the majority of its most experienced and enlightened leaders.

Healthcare is in the toilet under RFK JR and many diseases are or soon will be on the rise due to the elimination of vaccines and the defunding of the sciences which made our energy, environment and healthcare the envy of the world. And, finally his Bible and crypto grifts to name a few are pure greed. His net worth is up over $3 billion since taking office 6 months ago.

No one has ever seen corruption at this level by a President. Most of these actions have been pure exercises in power and greed and have no guiding principle beyond self interest and vengeance. Competence, leadership, science, and the rule of law which historically distinguished us from petty dictatorships have all been abandoned or curtailed to serve his ego and narcissism. His narcissism is so real and so extreme it dominates and is at the heart of everything he does and always has been.

We can only hope the norms he has broken and the damage already done to us economically and to our stature in the world (where we have gone from the beacon of liberty to isolated bully in just months) can be restored perhaps in a generation and that the damage yet to come will be less severe but the country is in real trouble and sadly the weakest among us will feel it the worst. Moreover, the cognitive decline we saw in Biden is very real with Trump as well. His us versus them approach to Americans has been more divisive than any prior President.

Just yesterday he announced how much he “hates” all Democrats. “Hate” worked for Hitler, briefly, but no one considers it a leadership trait. His racism is palpable. The country needs new leaders with character and I don’t care if they are Republicans or Democrats, never have. Just want someone honest, principled, intelligent and compassionate who can unite us.

Trump in my experience is none of those things. This is what I believe and why I am engaged. I could of course be tilting at windmills but don’t really have much choice if I want to sleep at night given the stakes as I see them.

For the Record (Parts 1 and 2)

Part I

When History writes about Trump and his slavish minions it’s important to make note of who he is and what he is. Heather Cox Richardson, an historian of today, records his comings and goings Here was her letter from the 25th of August:

This morning, President Donald J. Trump talked to reporters as he signed several executive orders in the Oval Office. Trump sat behind the Resolute Desk as he has been doing lately, seeming to put its bulk between him and the reporters. Also as he has been doing lately, he kept his left hand over the right, seemingly to hide a large bruise.

Trump was there to announce an executive order charging Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth with creating “specialized units” in the National Guard that will be “specifically trained and equipped to deal with public order issues,” apparently setting them up to take on domestic law enforcement as part of Trump’s attempt to take control of Democratic-run cities.

At the press opportunity, Trump claimed that he saved Washington, D.C.—where crime was at a 30-year low before he took control of the Metropolitan Police Department and mobilized the National Guard—from such rampant crime that no one dared to wear jewelry or carry purses. “People,” he said, “are free for the first time ever.”

Although in 1989 the Supreme Court ruled that burning a flag is a form of speech protected by the First Amendment, Trump ordered the Department of Justice to prosecute anyone who burns a flag, claiming they would automatically go to prison for a year (he has no authority to make such an order). After seven European leaders rushed to the White House to stabilize the U.S. approach to Russia after Trump’s disastrous meeting with Russia's president, Vladimir Putin, in Alaska on August 15, Trump claimed that the seven leaders actually represented 38 countries and that they refer to Trump as “the president of Europe.”

Calling Chicago, Illinois, a “a disaster” and “a killing field,” Trump referred to Illinois governor J.B. Pritzker as “a slob.” Trump complained that Pritzker had said Trump was infringing on American freedom and called Trump a dictator. Trump went on: “A lot of people are saying maybe we like a dictator. I don't like a dictator. I'm not a dictator. I'm a man with great common sense and a smart person. And when I see what's happening to our cities, and then you send in troops instead of being praised, they're saying you're trying to take over the Republic. These people are sick.”

This afternoon, standing flanked by leaders from business, law enforcement, faith communities, education, local communities, and politics at the Chicago waterfront near the Trump Tower there, Governor Pritzker responded to the news that Trump is planning to send troops to Chicago.

He began by saying: “I want to speak plainly about the moment that we are in and the actual crisis, not the manufactured one, that we are facing in the city and as a state and as a country. If it sounds to you like I am alarmist, that is because I am ringing an alarm, one that I hope every person listening will heed, both here in Illinois and across the country.”

He acknowledged that “[o]ver the weekend, we learned from the media that Donald Trump has been planning for quite a while now to deploy armed military personnel to the streets of Chicago. This is exactly the type of overreach that our country's founders warned against. And it’s the reason that they established a federal system with a separation of powers built on checks and balances. What President Trump is doing is unprecedented and unwarranted. It is illegal, it is unconstitutional. It is un-American.”

Pritzker noted that neither his office nor that of Chicago’s mayor had received any communications from the White House. “We found out what Donald Trump was planning the same way that all of you did. We read a story in the Washington Post. If this was really about fighting crime and making the streets safe, what possible justification could the White House have for planning such an exceptional action without any conversations or consultations with the governor, the mayor or the police?”

“Let me answer that question,” he said. “This is not about fighting crime. This is about Donald Trump searching for any justification to deploy the military in a blue city in a blue state to try and intimidate his political rivals. This is about the president of the United States and his complicit lackey Stephen Miller searching for ways to lay the groundwork to circumvent our democracy, militarize our cities, and end elections. There is no emergency in Chicago that calls for armed military intervention. There is no insurrection.”

Pritzker noted that every major American city deals with crime, but that the rate of violent crime is actually higher in Republican-dominated states and cities than in those run by Democrats. Illinois, he said, had “hired more police and given them more funding. We banned assault weapons, ghost guns, bump stops, and high-capacity magazines” and “invested historic amounts into community violence intervention programs.” Those actions have cut violent crime down dramatically. Pritzker pointed out that “thirteen of the top twenty cities in homicide rates have Republican governors. None of these cities is Chicago. Eight of the top ten states with the highest homicide rates are led by Republicans. None of those states is Illinois.”

If Trump were serious about combatting crime, Pritzker asked, why did he, along with congressional Republicans, cut more than $800 million in public safety and crime prevention grants? “Trump,” Pritzker said, “is defunding the police.”

Then Pritzker turned to the larger national story. “To the members of the press who are assembled here today and listening across the country,” he said, “I am asking for your courage to tell it like it is. This is not a time to pretend here that there are two sides to this story. This is not a time to fall back into the reflexive crouch that I so often see where the authoritarian creep by this administration is ignored in favor of some horse race piece on who will be helped politically by the president's actions. Donald Trump wants to use the military to occupy a U.S. city, punish his dissidents, and score political points. If this were happening in any other country, we would have no trouble calling it what it is: a dangerous power grab.”

Pritzker continued: “Earlier today in the Oval Office, Donald Trump looked at the assembled cameras and asked for me personally to say, ‘Mr. President, can you do us the honor of protecting our city?’ Instead, I say, ‘Mr. President, do not come to Chicago. You are neither wanted here nor needed here. Your remarks about this effort over the last several weeks have betrayed a continuing slip in your mental faculties and are not fit for the auspicious office that you occupy.’”

The governor called out the president for his willingness to drag National Guard personnel from their homes and communities to be used as political props. They are not trained to serve as law enforcement, he said, and did not “sign up for the National Guard to fight crime.” “It is insulting to their integrity and to the extraordinary sacrifices that they make to serve in the guard, to use them as a political prop, where they could be put in situations where they will be at odds with their local communities, the ones that they seek to serve.”

Pritzker said he hoped that Trump would “reconsider this dangerous and misguided encroachment upon our state and our city's sovereignty” and that “rational voices, if there are any left inside the White House or the Pentagon, will prevail in the coming days.”

But if not, he urged Chicagoans to protest peacefully and to remember that most members of the military and the National Guard stationed in Chicago would be there unwillingly. He asked protesters to “remember that they can be court martialed, and their lives ruined, if they resist deployment.” He suggested protesters should look to members of the faith community for guidance on how to mobilize.

Then Pritzker turned to a warning. “To my fellow governors across the nation who would consider pulling your national guards from their duties at home to come into my state against the wishes of its elected representatives and its people,” he said, “cooperation and coordination between our states is vital to the fabric of our nation, and it benefits us all. Any action undercutting that and violating the sacred sovereignty of our state to cater to the ego of a dictator will be responded to.”

He went on: “The state of Illinois is ready to stand against this military deployment with every peaceful tool we have. We will see the Trump administration in court. We will use every lever in our disposal to protect the people of Illinois and their rights.”

“Finally,” he said, “to the Trump administration officials who are complicit in this scheme, to the public servants who have forsaken their oath to the Constitution to serve the petty whims of an arrogant little man, to any federal official who would come to Chicago and try to incite my people into violence as a pretext for something darker and more dangerous, we are watching, and we are taking names. This country has survived darker periods than the one that we are going through right now. And eventually, the pendulum will swing back, maybe even next year. Donald Trump has already shown himself to have little regard for the many acolytes that he has encouraged to commit crimes on his behalf. You can delay justice for a time, but history shows you cannot prevent it from finding you eventually.

“If you hurt my people, nothing will stop me, not time or political circumstance, from making sure that you face justice under our constitutional rule of law. As Dr. King once said, the arc of the moral Universe is long, but it bends toward justice. Humbly, I would add, it doesn't bend on its own. History tells us we often have to apply force needed to make sure that the arc gets where it needs to go. This is one of those times.”

Part 2

The Psychology of Trolling a Tyrant: Why Gavin Newsom Has Trump’s Number

By Jack Hopkins

If you’re still waiting for Democrats to grow a spine…look no further than California’s slick-haired governor…Gavin Newsom.

Now…before you roll your eyes…mutter something about French Laundry dinners or California crime rates…let me tell you why you need to pay attention.

Because in the high-stakes game of psychological warfare…optics…and manipulation…Newsom is the only Democrat who has cracked the code for getting under Donald Trump’s skin. And he isn’t just poking the bear…he’s making the bear dance.

The stakes aren’t about policy white papers or which candidate can rattle off the most bullet points on CNN. This is about who can win the mental war. Who can dominate the frame. Who can drive the other man insane under the hot lights of the biggest stage in the world.

And right now…Newsom is showing he’s the one guy in American politics who can step into the Thunderdome with Trump and make him look like the clown he is.

I know what you’re thinking.

“But Jack… Newsom has baggage. He’s too polished. Too coastal. Too California.”

Fair. But let’s not kid ourselves. Every candidate has flaws.

Biden’s age. Harris’s stiff style. Bernie’s socialist baggage. Even Obama had the “aloof professor” rap.

Flaws…are the tax of entry.

They don’t disqualify you unless they define you. And Newsom’s flaws don’t define him. What defines him is that he’s the first Democrat in 20 years to look Trump straight in the eye and smirk. Not lecture. Not fumble. Not cower. Smirk.

Because here’s the dirty secret of bullies: They can dish it out…but they can’t take it.

And Newsom knows it.

The Psychological Breakdown

Here’s where I step out of the consultant role and put on my behavioral expert and psy-ops hat.

Let’s break down why Newsom’s trolling works so damn well.

1. Trump’s Narcissistic Fragility

Trump is a textbook narcissist. Grandiosity on the outside…but brittle as glass on the inside. When someone challenges his dominance without playing his game…it destabilizes him.

Newsom doesn’t argue with Trump on Trump’s terms. He doesn’t moralize or rage. He needles. He mocks. He mirrors Trump’s energy…then flips it back with a sly grin. It’s like aikido for the ego.

Trump expects fear. Newsom gives him laughter. And nothing enrages a narcissist more than being laughed at.

2. The Frame War

Politics isn’t a debate club…it’s a frame war. Whoever controls the frame controls perception.

Trump usually controls it by branding his opponents (“Crooked Hillary,” “Sleepy Joe,” “Little Marco”). But Newsom doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look wounded when Trump attacks…he looks amused. And when he smiles that California smile and tosses a barb right back…he steals the frame.

That smile says: “You’re not the alpha here. I am.”

3. Psy-Ops 101: Control the Battlefield

In psy-ops…you never fight the enemy where they’re strong. You lure them to where they’re weak.

Trump’s strength is in bluster and dominance. His weakness? Insecurity about his image. Newsom exploits this brilliantly…mocking Trump’s looks…his insecurities…his desperation. It’s not “presidential,” but it’s devastatingly effective.

When Newsom quips…he’s not just talking to voters. He’s inserting himself into Trump’s head rent-free. He’s making Trump waste precious bandwidth thinking about him.

4. The Group Dynamics Angle

Social psychology tells us: groups rally around leaders who look strong…calm…and confident under pressure.

Newsom…with his movie-star looks and smooth delivery…projects exactly that. When he goes toe-to-toe with Trump…he makes Trump look like the sweaty…flailing uncle at Thanksgiving.

And remember: perception is reality.

Why It’s Working

Let’s be blunt: Trump is rattled.

You can see it in his reactions. The rage posts. The extra insults. The way he breaks his usual script when talking about Newsom. That’s not control. That’s reactivity.

And in politics…reactivity is weakness. It’s prey behavior.

Voters don’t consciously parse this…but they feel it. When they see Trump barking and Newsom smirking…they instinctively sense who’s in charge of the exchange.

This is why trolling matters.

Not because it’s “nice” or “fair,” but because it signals dominance. And dominance is the real currency of politics in the Trump era.

This is exactly why…on occasion…on social media…I will cut a troll to ribbons. It’s not so much for them…as it is for other trolls who see it.

I do it in a way that humiliates and makes the troll appear ignorant. Even faceless trolls hate how that feels. As a result…I have fewer trolls than most larger accounts. This holds true on X…as well.

Newsom does it…and I do it…because it’s effective…when used strategically.

Why Newsom Is The Person to Beat Trump

Now let’s deal with the elephant in the room.

Is Newsom perfect? Hell no. He’s a walking opposition research file. He’s got ties… flaws…hypocrisies…the works.

But here’s the raw truth: defeating Trump won’t come from perfection. It’ll come from mastery of the psychological battlefield.

And Newsom’s the only Democrat who’s demonstrated that mastery.

Biden beat Trump once…but that was pre-insurrection…pre-indictments…pre-Epstein files…pre-authoritarian power grab. The game has escalated.

I’ve studied the assessments that have been done on the big players, as well as conducting my own.

You may not like what you see in a moment. You may disagree. However…behind closed doors…the people who drill down on this stuff…come to similar conclusions:

Harris? Too stiff. Too reactive.

Whitmer? Strong on policy…but untested in trench warfare.

Buttigieg? Brilliant debater…but comes off too clinical.

Keep in mind…that personally…I like all of the above. However…doesn’t factor in when I’m doing my assessment. For most of the “big dog” folks behind the scenes…it doesn’t matter much to them…either.

Newsom? He enjoys the fight. He relishes the mind games. He doesn’t just respond…he plays offense.

That’s the edge. That’s why…regardless of your reservations…he’s the one person who can meet Trump in the mud…get dirty…and still walk out looking clean.

What Now?

So what do we do with this?

If you’re serious about saving democracy…you stop searching for a flawless savior. You start looking for a warrior who can fight on the terrain the enemy has chosen.

Trump’s battlefield is trolling…branding…and psychological warfare. Newsom is showing he can not only fight there…he can win there.

And that changes the entire 2026–2028 landscape.

What Are Elections?

Let me wrap this up with the blunt Jack Hopkins truth:

Elections aren’t beauty pageants. They’re street fights. And in a street fight…you don’t want the guy who looks good on paper…you want the person who can bloody the bully’s nose.

Gavin Newsom…slick…smirking…flawed Gavin Newsom…is that guy.

So if you’re tired of watching Democrats bring a white paper to a knife fight…you better start paying attention. Because for the first time in a long time…we’ve got a fighter who actually enjoys the brawl.

And that…my friends…is how you beat Donald Trump at his own game.

Someone Like Me

I found this article online yesterday

The joy of taking photos that no one else will ever see (Sebastian Oakley)

“The best work I’ve made lately is the work that no one’s seen. Since stepping away from the world of professional sports photography, I’ve found myself picking up the camera for a very different reason: because I want to, not because I have to.

There’s no deadline. No editor waiting for a caption. No need to catch the winning moment in perfect focus. These days, I wander my local area with a camera slung over my shoulder, taking pictures not for clients, not for clout, and certainly not for the algorithm, but for me. And that, I’ve realised, is something we don’t talk about enough: that it’s perfectly okay to shoot for yourself.

In a world where every image is uploaded, filtered, tagged and timestamped for maximum engagement, it’s easy to forget why we ever started taking photos in the first place. The pressure to stay visible online, to keep feeding the machine, can rob you of the very joy that made you fall in love with photography to begin with. We spend more time wondering what the algorithm will like than what we like. But there’s something liberating about turning your back on that noise. About making images that don’t need to trend.

I’m not immune to it. I’ve felt that twinge when a photo I love barely gets noticed, and I’ve seen lesser images go viral simply because they fit the formula. But the truth is, I’m no longer chasing hearts, likes, or shares. I’m chasing light. I’m looking for moments that speak to something quieter, more personal. The way the fog sits low over a Cornish field at dawn. The shape of an old fisherman’s hands. The silence of a chapel no longer in use. None of it screams for attention – but all of it means something to me.

That shift, from professional to personal, from performance to process, has changed the way I see. I no longer worry if a shot is portfolio-worthy. I don’t care if the composition would make a judge at a camera club wince. I care if it feels honest, and while I do hope these images might one day become part of something – such as an exhibition, a zine or a book – that’s not why I make them. I make them because I need to, in the same way a writer keeps a journal or a musician hums a tune into their phone.

There’s value in creating without expectation. In photographing, without asking what it will do for your brand. These images I’m making – this quiet, documentary-style work around my local region – they’re mine. They don’t need to impress anyone but me.”

Here’s one of mine. A man on a train meeting himself in the next car.

A man in a county fair booth seeing his newborn child.

1978. An audience at a county fair rodeo responding to the clown.

Abandoned Drive-In with duct tape on the sign: Everything is Devo.

San Diego Airport Lounge

If these represent anything at all, they are simply scenes that nudged me to photograph them. Will anyone see them? Does anyone care? Do they mean anything, either individually or as part of a group? Does the boy on his device represent the compulsion we have to ignore our surroundings and immerse ourselves in the internet? Or is it just a photo of a boy? As Oakley concludes, “They don’t need to impress anyone but me.”






The Cat is out of the Bag

Last Mother’s Day we had dinner with our three kids in Berkeley. During the meal Jason said he had some news, something he wanted to share. “I have a lady in my life,” he said to the collective amazement of the four of us. He turned to the backstory, recalling that four years ago his friend, Bill Jacox, was riding his bike with his twelve year old son Alex, and a number of other kids. Bill, an athlete, someone who Jason rode mountain bikes and hiked with, fell off his bike and died in front of his son and a number of other children.

Jason was devastated. He spent time with Sunny, Bill’s widow, providing whatever support and affection he could. He helped her write the eulogy and stayed in touch with the family—Sunny, her now 16 year old son Alex, and her 13 year old daughter, Serena, a classmate of Isla.

It’s been a difficult four or five years for Sunny. She posted this on Facebook in June in honor of her late husband.

This spring Sunny asked her kids, “What would you think about Mama’s dating?” They both encouraged her.

Sunny wasn’t going to hit bars or the internet to look for someone. She had a target. One of her friends suggested that if she felt this affection for Jason she needed to make the first move, as she was advised that he was unaware. She did. Last April something happened, and by May they were “dating,” the term that they both used to describe a relationship that neither of them wanted anyone beyond immediate family to know…until yesterday. Sunny had a summer trip planned to Alaska with her family; all four kids had activities.

Sunny and Jason let the proverbial cat out of the bag yesterday. Jason told Sean and Greg in Colorado. I texted him, “How about Hawthorn and Hazel?” He replied, “bewildered amusement.” He continued, “It was certainly the talk of the teenager text circuit last night.” Sunny told her two, both showed “thumbs up.”

This is a photo I had of Sunny. We met up with her on the 4th of July in El Cerrito.

She sent me this one today.

There is another side to this story. As Jason was comforting Sunny after Bill’s death Jason was also dealing with his extraordinarily painful divorce from Rachel. And Sunny was there for him.

Following Bill’s death and Jason’s divorce both Sunny and Jason had four years to go through recovery and growth before either could be interested in seeking out another relationship. Their coming together was not because of the grief itself but the healing that followed.

We are so impressed with her and so pleased that they have found each other. I’ll be adding on to this as things develop, we see her more, and with their relationship now out in the open, we’ll see where it goes.. We couldn’t be happier.

BTW. Sunny is a year older than Jason, full Korean, and is the Dean of Students at UC Berkeley.

Numbers

Tomorrow I will be 79 years old. If all goes well I’ll sleep close to 7 hours, wake up at approximately 4 am, check the news online, eat 1 banana, a slice of cantaloupe, and 1/2 of a grapefruit. We’ll play Wordle together. (Our current streak is 52 consecutive games won). I’ll drive 9 minutes to 24 Hour Fitness, set the treadmill height to 15, the speed to 3.3, then walk for 30 minutes before the 5 minute cool down, burning off 200 calories or so before changing into my Speedo swimsuit. I’ll walk to the pool and swim 72 laps of 25 yards in (I hope) less than 44 minutes. (I’ll add 7 more laps tomorrow because it’s my birthday, 7/9/2025. It’ll take me 9 minutes to drive home. At that point I will have burned off close to 740 calories, my target every day, one that I usually meet 4 times a week.

Meanwhile, Jadyne will be up, checking her blood sugar. If her level drops below 70 her phone will alert her to take 11 units of her long term insulin, and before breakfast 2 units of short term insulin. She will then wait 15 minutes before breakfast. While I’m swimming she may go out for a walk, hoping that her blood sugar reading will be between 70 and 170 (approximately). .She won’t walk if her blood sugar number is close to 70. She’ll take glucose tablets or a snack of protein and carbohydrates, then wait another 15 minutes. We’ll check her blood sugar readings throughout the day, trying to keep it within the 70-170 range, taking whatever steps we can to bring it within that range. If that means 4 more glucose tablets, then a 15 minute wait, then another check, she’ll do it, maybe having to repeat the 4 tablets, then waiting another 15 minutes. If it’s too high, exercise will bring it down. No numbers involved.

At 5:00 we’ll leave for The Dead Fish, a wonderful seafood restaurant about 30 minutes from home. John and family are in Sacramento, Jennifer and family are in Vietnam, Jason may stop by, either with the kids or without, as Jay and I don’t really know the custody schedule. Except for dinner it will be just another day, and having days at all is present enough.

Fourth of July

Yesterday I had decided that there was little to celebrate. I told Jadyne that I didn’t want the flag up because I was both ashamed and embarrassed by Trump and the kowtowing Republicans who had signed on to kiss Trump’s ass and pass his “Big Beautiful Bill,” a plan that, among other things, removes billions from Medicaid and at the same time reduces the taxes on the very wealthy and adds trillions to the national debt.

I changed my mind. I didn’t want the Republicans to take ownership of the flag. I posted this on Facebook:

The writer Anne Lamott posted this in the Washington Post: “Anyone paying close attention to the news might well ask themselves what on earth there is to celebrate this Fourth of July. But we must celebrate, or they win, in the paranoid sense of “they.” They want the day, but we can’t let them have it. Independence Day is America’s day. Sure, we bleeding-heart nervous cases are teetering on the edge of despair, but that is exactly why I am calling for us to move into a new phase of resistance: hope and joy. In ghastly times, these are subversive.”

Later in the morning Jadyne and I went to a park in El Cerrito where festivities were in full swing. Shortly after we arrived Senator Adam Schiff showed up and spoke to the crowd for a couple of minutes. When he left the stage I followed him. Jay and I corralled him for about five minutes, thanking him for all that he’s done for America. I told him that I wasn’t giving up ownership of the flag to those who desecrate what it stands for, choosing instead to fly it proudly and resist those who didn’t live up to the values that it represents, those who were trashing it, meaning the President and the Republicans in Congress.

Why I Love Donald Trump

I despise Donald Trump, but I read a series of thoughts by a psychologist who’s analyzed why others love him. Here’s what she said:

  1. First, he offers no policies, no plans, no solutions. They don’t love him because he offers answers. They like him because he talks like them, hates and blames the same people, offers revenge over solutions, goes after anyone outside “the MAGA cult,” especially the Press, college students, the elite. He wants to make them pay. It isn’t important what he actually does, only what he represents. He’s a walking, talking, middle finger. A Trumper’s identity merges with his. They identify with him. When you attack him you’re attacking them. There’s a name for that: identity fusion.

  2. Revenge is paramount. Get them back. Kick their ass. Deport them. These are the people who have made it more difficult for the Trump lover. There’s always someone to attack, to blame, to fault, to punish.

  3. “I alone can do it.” I’m a savior. The information fed to MAGA is a closed loop. FOX and other lying media promote what he says is true. MAGA is not permitted to seek alternate information, to believe anything from anyone else, from any other source. If Trump says it, it must be true. Trump said that Iran’s nuclear sites were obliterated. When UN inspectors looked at the damage they determined that they weren’t obliterated, just damaged for some months. So, of course, they were not only wrong, but in promoting facts they were accused of attacking the President.

  4. Double down. For those who have seen or read stories that contradict what Trump has told them they could choose to leave, but they don’t. They’ve invested too much of who they are, what they’ve believed for so many years that they can’t imagine admitting alternate views, alternate information. Instead, they double down on the lies.

  5. Trump has often said, “They’re not after me. They’re after you. I’m just the guy in the middle.” Trump makes them feel seen, not ignored. “You’re not crazy. Everyone else is.” Belonging, identifying with the whole MAGA circus give them a sense of identity. Trump, the savior, gives them that.

Is there an answer? Those on the edge might be swayed by care, by community, by real solutions, not revenge. They’ve heard the lies. They need to hear the truth. Over and over.

Oh, That Silly Old Donald Trump (Again)

Since this will all be a part of history I thought it would be fitting to mention in my blog that a week or so after Israel began pummeling Iran, Trump, exercising his policy of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), maintained that he would need two weeks to decide whether to bomb Iran or wait for diplomatic channels to open. Hint! He was, as is his custom, lying. He had already decided to send over two B2 bombers with “bunkerbuster” 36,000 lbs of TNT to destroy Iran’s nuclear stockpile. Since Iranians knew this was likely to happen it’s likely that they moved their enriched uranium to some safe haven.

The bomber bombed. Trump used the word “obliterated” to describe what happened. The press was not so sure. Here’s what Trump said in response.

Were the targets obliterated? Trump said it. Leavitt said it (twice). Hegseth said it. It must be true. Unless it isn’t. A classified intel report leaked to CNN suggested that total annihilation actually meant a six month or so temporary setback. No one’s happy at the White House.

And here in a New Yorker cartoon is what everyone knows to be true.

Trump has no plan, no policy, no idea about what to do. He’s opened the proverbial can of worms, Pandora’s box, and the repercussions are already being felt. First to go was Truth Social: “The social media platform Truth Social briefly crashed late Saturday evening after President Donald Trump announced that the United States had “completed” its attack on three Iranian nuclear sites.Users of Truth Social, which the president launched in 2022, began complaining about the website being unusable on X.” Today rockets were launched to a US airbase in Qatar. The fun is just beginning.

And if that wasn’t enough…

Trump demands special prosecutor investigate 'stolen' 2020 election, loss to Biden

Trump cited Biden's poor record at the border and maintained that he won the 2020 election in a landslide

By Michael Dorgan Fox News

The mystery of why 75,000,000 people found this felonious fascist preferable to Kamala Harris will follow me for the next god-knows-how-many years, but follow me it will.

Is America strong enough to withstand this pitiful excuse for a human? And if so, for how long?

The Onion, America’s satirical and prescient publication, took out a full page ad in the NY Times on Sunday. Here it is.

Congress, Now More Than Ever, Our Nation Needs Your Cowardice

Published:

June 20, 2025

Who will stand up for our democracy? This question, fraught in even the most peaceful times, has only grown more pressing as our country approaches its 250th anniversary. Each passing day brings growing assaults on essential liberties like freedom of speech and due process. Meanwhile, our delicately assembled legal system faces a constant barrage of threats. Even as this issue reaches publication, the U.S. military has been deployed against peaceful protestors. We teeter on the brink of collapse into an authoritarian state. That is why, today, The Onion calls upon our lawmakers to sit back and do absolutely nothing.

Members of Congress—now, more than ever, our nation desperately needs your cowardice.

Our republic is a birthright, an exceedingly rare treasure passed down from generation to generation of Americans. It was gained through hard years of bloody resistance and can too easily be lost. Our Founding Fathers, in their abundant wisdom, understood that all it would take was men and women of little courage sitting in the corridors of power and taking zero action as this precious inheritance was stripped away—and that is where we have finally arrived.

Now is not the time for bravery or valor! This is the time for protecting your own hide and lining your pocket. Now is not the time for listening to your idiotic constituents drone on about what’s happening to their precious democracy. This is the time for getting down on all fours and groveling. Now is not the time to say, “Enough is enough,” and have the tough conversations about resisting the ongoing assaults on American liberty. This is the time to let the wave of apathy and indifference roll over you as you think about getting a really nice renovation to your house in Kalorama.

But what can I, one coward, do alone? you might ask. It’s true. As a solitary person, your fecklessness will make little impact. But if you join together with the most craven senators and representatives in the Capitol, the impact will be immense: The corruption, the disregard for the rule of law, the shipping of residents to foreign gulags, the attacks on judges, the censorship and chilling of speech, the punishment of any and all dissent—it can be made that much worse if you just find it in yourself to clutch your head in your hands, wet the bed, and cower in the hope of being spared from the White House’s wrath.

It won’t be easy, but you must search deep within yourself and muster up every ounce of gutlessness you have. Then, bend over and lick the president’s boots.

Why? Because ultimately none of this matters. Democracy? Equality? The U.S. Constitution? These are hollow phrases. They mean nothing. But money—delicious money? That is solid. You can hold it in your hands. You know this. We know this, too. Only our infantile citizenry fail to appreciate how much you stand to gain by kissing the ring.

In our nation’s darkest moments, the public often looks to Congress for profiles in meekness. We search for men and women much like yourselves, emotional weaklings who are afraid to meet their own glance in the mirror, insignificant do-nothings who quake in their boots at the mention of the slightest exertion. Many of you have already distinguished yourselves as such individuals. To them, our country’s oligarchs can only offer their boundless thanks.

Take solace knowing you are not alone in this endeavor. Over the grand expanse of American history, there have been countless lawmakers who managed to summon up their complete lack of backbone and do the easy thing. Think of the members of Congress who turned a blind eye to Japanese American internment, McCarthyism, or the horrors of the Holocaust, all because doing something seemed a little too hard, a little too inconvenient. These men should be your inspiration. Never forget: You stand on the shoulders of spineless giants.

But we have not descended entirely from a nation of fearful men, have we? Let this be the moment to make amends for any missteps of American bravery and valor. Congress, we are asking, nay, demanding: This coming Independence Day, don’t wave the Stars and Stripes, that enduring symbol of liberty and rebellion.

Instead, wave the white flag of surrender.

Tu Stultus Es,
The Onion Editorial Board

No Kings

June 14th, the 79th birthday of Donald Trump and the 250th birthday of the US army. Oh, and the first “No Kings Day,” protests around the world to plead for a return to American democracy. I wrote this letter to explain myself.

“I wanted to explain what I (and the rest of my family) thinks, about why we wouldn’t have missed yesterday.  It isn’t political at all.  We all love America, and we believe that the current administration, under the disguise that they are the true patriots, doesn’t.  

Trump went to a Bastille Day Parade in 2017, loving it so much that he proposed it for himself, a request that was turned down by Congress as an unnecessary and needless expense.  Trump loved this French parade.

Bastille Day, 2017

I think he imagined something like this, with him overlooking a mighty display of power.  It was a coincidence that the army’s deserved celebration was on his birthday, but he made no bones about making it about him.  Paratroopers gave him a folded American flag, only given to family members of deceased.

Trump wanted to show might, but instead, he revealed weakness—in himself, not in the military.  Senator John Kennedy, R. from Louisiana, whose politics I find disagreeable, had this to say (and I paraphrase)…”When you’re a lion everybody knows that you’re the lion.  You don’t need to roar.  When you walk through the jungle every animal knows who you are.”  

By showcasing the military in ways only dictators do, Trump aligned himself with them, in essence revealing weakness.  There were between 50,000 to 100,000 people at the parade. Estimates range from five to eight million at the protests.

Here is a photo from San Francisco:

Jason, Hawthorn, Hazel, Jennifer, Jadyne

Americans who agree with me, who believe what I believe, who feel that their voices are threatened, stood with me.  I wanted to be a part of the “terrible resolve” described by Admiral Yamamoto.

I don’t watch the news as I used to, but what I read or see on TV, frightens me.  It wasn’t a “happy protest day,” but there was no shortage of joy and camaraderie among the hundreds of people in El Cerrito, and from what I’ve seen online, around even red states like Idaho and Louisiana.  An 8 year old girl carried a sign that read, ‘I deserve better.’  We all do.”

A Weekend to Remember

I’ve posted nothing in my blog since Inauguration Day, Jan 20th. It was also a day to honor MLK, far more significant than the coronation.

So what brings me back to the keyboard? Here’s the backstory. Some weeks ago Jadyne had noted that she wasn’t feeling strong. During her runs she walked more than she ran. She’s been sleeping longer, napping more, sometimes twice a day. When she’s awakened she wasn’t refreshed. She’s gone to bed earlier. If our GP weren’t on vacation she would have called.

On Thursday we worked our normal shift at Dorothy Day, stopped at Safeway, then took BART to SF to meet Jay and Laynie for a Giants game. We walked the 1 and 1/2 miles from BART to Oracle Park, took BART home. Jay went straight to bed.

Friday was worse. She spent the day in bed, rousing herself only to go to the Kaiser lab and do blood and urine tests. Later that night David Anderson came over, and after seeing the results, (all normal), concluded that nevertheless she had “something”, an issue that wasn’t going to resolve itself by itself.

At 1:45 yesterday (Friday) morning she couldn’t go to the bathroom by herself. After I helped her I called 9-1-1.

2 am Friday

I followed a half hour later, knowing that I couldn’t see her for an hour or so, that staff would be administering tests, giving her an IV. The EMTs told me that her blood sugar read 450. Normal is 120 or so. The diagnosis came after I arrived—diabetes, most unusual in a seventy year old with no record of heavy sugar intake, no sweets, no sodas, no sugar.

Jay with the bearer of the news

Saturday night in ICU, tended by wonderful caring nurses. When I came to see her yesterday (Sunday) she was feeling better, still weak, and after interminable explanations and demonsrtations about self-care, she was able to get out of bed, and with the nurse’s help, begin walking.

We brought the walker and a cane home, but she didn’t need it to get into the house.

After lunch. Early afternoon. She left.

It’s 5:30, Monday morning. She’s in bed. Stay tuned. Insulin shots and blood sugar tests are right around the corner.

Sunday, June 15th. A distant memory. Jadyne is home in a house full of flowers, learning how to read her blood sugar levels, insert insulin, and eat the new diet. After one and a half hours at the protest yesterday she felt fine, walked an hur today, went shopping, and except for her insulin/blood sugar issues is back to her old self.

Inauguration Day

Not watching anything. It’s Martin Luther King Day, too, a national holiday, one far more consequential than the one going on in the frigid Washington D.C. area. I posted this on Facebook yesterday with the following text:

A portrait photographer would never take a photograph by lowering his main light. That lighting only works on Halloween, or in this case, when you want to look sinister or threatening. Hold a flashlight under your chin in the dark and look in the mirror.  One of the reasons portrait photographers raise their lights above their subject's head is very simple—that's the way the natural world works. The sun is above us. Lights are, too. Deviating from that is unfamiliar to our eyes.  It is unnatural.  When using artificial lights we modify them by having the point source aimed into an umbrella, effectively broadening the source and making it softer.  Moving it closer to the face also softens it.  These are all basic tricks of the trade.  Trump’s photographer didn’t do that.   Many of the comments about the portrait focus on his expression. Lighting is given short shrift. That's a mistake. The photographer asked Trump how he wanted to look in the official portrait, and the collaboration between the two gave us what we see.

 Scary. Fear, those are the words for the next four years.  The photo mirrors his words.

Trump attended a service at the Washington Cathedral on this day. Bishop Budde’s homily:

“Let me make one final plea, Mr. President. Millions have put their trust in you and, as you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and Independent families, some who fear for their lives. The people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings; who labor in poultry farms and meat packing plants; who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shifts in hospitals. They…may not be citizens or have the proper documentation. But the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurudwaras and temples. I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land. May God grant us the strength and courage to honor the dignity of every human being, to speak the truth to one another in love and walk humbly with each other and our God for the good of all people. Good of all people in this nation and the world. Amen”

The predictable response…

And Scotland responds to the Goings-On last Monday in the good ol’ USA.

Not “the horrors we could stumble into” at all. They’re already here.

Graeme

Graeme Vanderstol was one of three white men (I’m another one) to marry into a Chinese family. At least, that’s how Graeme explains it when he’s asked, “How are you and David related?” Graeme was married to Eve, who died about seven years ago. She and Jadyne were first cousins. When we moved to Kensington we would see the two of them two or three times a year. Eve and I had a mutual love for the Beatles. Graeme and I, Apple and Indian music.

We don’t know the cause of Eve’s death. Cancer? As she lay dying I took my guitar to her bedside and played Beatles songs for her. When Graeme hosted a memorial service for Eve he invited musicians from all over the Bay Area to play, some from the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. I was asked to play “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, the last public performance that I ever made. And it was a fail. I had practiced it for days, but I couldn’t get through it. I apologized, but for a number of reasons I couldn’t do it.

Lian, Eve’s sister, comforts her a day or two before Eve died. I loved them both. Lian, the eldest of eight, died this past summer. The only one left is Larry, who was a child movie star called “Ducky Louie” and played opposite Anthony Quinn and others. In Back to Bataan Ducky dies in John Wayne’s arms. Larry became a dentist.

Graeme and Eve

Shortly after Eve died we lost touch with Graeme, although he lived nearby. When we reconnected a couple of months ago we learned that since her death he had traveled to Thailand, met a 41 year old kindergarten teacher with two or three children, married her, traveled with her internationally eleven times (so he said), and intended to go back in early December. Here’s Graeme when we reconnected at lunch two months ago.

Graeme at Little Hong Kong.

Not too bad for an eighty-seven year old man. Graeme has always been a traveler. An Australian by birth, Graeme’s love for music and exotic culture led him to India several times, bringing Indian musicians to perform in London.

It was during the sixties and seventies that he met the Beatles, spending Christmas with George Harrison. Paul McCartney came over during the holidays with the tape of Magical Mystery Tour. “Mum, this is Graeme. Graeme, this is my mum. And Graeme, this is my wife Pattie.”

Things change. Since that lunch Graeme went back to Thailand to see his wife, returned, and fell, spraining his hand. He’s unable to drive. In truth, he’s unable to do much of anything. I’ve been recruited, being the only available white guy around, to drive him to doctors’ appointments, one to see his audiologist, one to his dentist, and two to see about his sprained hand, one time to Orinda, another to Alta Bates in Berkeley.

Graeme has suffered a lot since that lunch, and his physical decline is significant, not to mention his forgetfulness and the lack of awareness. Two more appointments that I arranged to take him were on the wrong days. Graeme has a live-in helper from Yuba City who went home for Christmas, so I’ve been on duty several times in the last couple of weeks. Graeme is lonely, too, and although he has neighbors helping out, his mind, if forgetful, is still sharp. He knows stuff.

A week ago. The temperature in the house was fifty-five degrees. Graeme spends his days in bed

The bedroom

Headboard

One of two front rooms

Two of two front rooms

Graeme’s house cannot be navigated safely. Every room is stacked with books, tribal masks, CDs, records, papers, and boxes There is no clear path, no place to sit. If one could find a chair it would be covered with stacks of things. Even the kitchen has piles of papers and items that have no business being in a kitchen.

Graeme emailed me today, asking if I was around could I please stop by for a minute or two. I called him. He didn’t need any help. I didn’t go today. I’ll be checking again tomorrow.

Ticket to Ride

For the second time in 2024 Jadyne and I climbed aboard the Amtrak ”Zephyr",” (a name that should require quotation marks), and prepared ourselves for the next 26 hours as we “hurtled” across America, through the Sierra, Nevada, Utah, and finally our destination, Glenwood Springs, more affectionately known as “Spgs” after the notation on the road signs.

It was a short stay, just three days, as we’re not “snow people”, and we really just wanted to touch base with Greg and Sean. We did.

We had been coming to Glenwood Springs since Teeny moved there sometime in the mid seventies. We know the town well. Businesses come and go, construction is ever present. Tourists flock there. It’s a place for skiers and snowboarders, too, cheaper digs than Aspen or Vail.

The visit. Greg and Sean showed me this photograph.

The 20 x 24” framed photograph of Teeny which hung at the entrance to the Emergency Room at the hospital for the past thirty-seven years. Greg was wandering through a room in the hospital where piles of discarded items from the hospital were stored. “What are you doing with this?” Greg asked the employee. “Don’t know,” was the reply, “probably going to the junkyard.” Greg took the print home and hung it above their stairway. Thirty-seven years. Teeny’s memorial service drew hundreds. Now no one remembers who she was, that she was Greg’s sister, that if the hospital wasn’t interested in remembering her anymore, perhaps her brother might like to have the image. Ya think?

In my 78th year I realize that thirty-seven years after I pass, there might be a few who remember. Jason will be closing in on ninety. Time does what time does. Dust to dust.

I hung out on Greg and Sean’s front porch, watching the avian visitors.

Stellar Jay

Not an avian

Return of the avians

Magpie

Magpie

It was a lovely three days. One Chinese dinner, one evening at a Vaudeville performance in Spgs, one home-cooked prime rib, and one extraordinary dinner at New Castle, where an Aspen chef is just one critic’s approval away from a Michelin star. (IMHO).

The Platter at the Pig and Duck. Words fail. Worth 26 hours on the train just for that.

I wandered around taking images of ice crystals in three week old snow.

Greg, Toby, and Sean

It was cold when I went out to photograph ice crystals, so I put on a wool hat, which covered my ears. When I returned I noticed that I was missing one hearing aid. With three sets of eyes we climbed the hill where I had been and looked in vain for the hearing aid. I gave up, called Costco, discovered what I had to do to replace it. The next day I took one more trip up the gravel, asphalt, and dirt road, and voila! After a recharge all was well.

Greg thought that three days was too short for our visit. I replied, “The train trip is a vacation, too.” We love long train trips.

Someone paid for two seats.

An unexpected stop in Western Colorado

Grand Junction, CO

Downtown Nevada

We paid $388 for two round-trip tickets to Glenwood Springs. Coach passengers have to pay for their own food. Sleeping car passengers don’t. However, we coach passengers get to sleep on the extraordinarily comfortable coach seats which allow us to twist our bodies into positions that would excite a yoga teacher. This passenger enjoyed it more because he could twist into two seats. We had to twist into one.

Nevada

Passing freight. The freight lines own the tracks and Amtrak trains pull off on sidings until they pass.

Amazon sunrise, Nevada

Reno

Just East of Truckee

West of Donner Pass.

Now the train. We boarded at 8:30 am in Richmond, then disembarked at 12:30 in Glenwood Springs. I spent several hours with Henry, pictured on the right, talking about the Amish. Henry, his wife Lydia (pictured left) and his son Eli, wouldn’t let me take their photograph. “It’s not something we do,” Henry said. We talked a lot. I told him about the Sierra Nevada mountain range, the Donner party, California, and what my life was about. He told me about his, too. Henry is 28. He and Lydia speak English, but their son Eli doesn’t. They speak Pennsylvania Dutch with him, just as they do with other Amish. Henry and his friends were returning from working at a medical mission in Tijuana. I smiled, thinking what a great movie it would make, “The Amish in Tijuana,” Like other Amish. Henry’s education stopped at eighth grade. He believes in God, Jesus, the Bible, the creation story, and takes it all literally. He has no phone, no internet, no car, doesn’t drive, and, if I’m right, wouldn’t mind having one or all of them. On the second day I hoped he might relent and allow me to do a family portrait. He does have a mailing address. I suspected that his faith was stronger than my persuasion. It was a slam dunk. I lost.

Lydia and Henry

I talked to Howard, a retired Waldorf teacher who writes childrens’ books. “What’s the deal with immunizations?” I asked him, noting that Waldorf students have an immunization rate about half of the general public. “We believe that the body creates its own immunization,” he said, “and it can protect itself by itself. I’ve been vaccinated against Covid,” he said, that Waldorf familes don’t ignore all vaccinations”..

Howard’s gave us two of his books.

I talked to Jan. A Syracuse attorney, he was traveling across America, then flying to Hawaii where his daughter, much to his chagrin, married a native Hawaiian on Oahu. He was reading a book about indigenous people, their beliefs, all in hope of understanding. He wondered whether he should underline important passages. I suggested that that might appear to be lecturing, something that his new son-in-law might not appreciate. He agreed.

And then we were in Colfax, along with this lady. Roseville, Sacramento, Martinez, and Richmond still to go.

Dumbth

RANT (NOT A POLITCAL POST)

Like the Donald, I'm using all caps here to amplify a thought. When 2016 came and the Donald became president I was dismayed to discover that so many Americans thought in ways different from the way I thought. The passing of eight years not only confirmed it, but I continue to be amazed at something for which my wife and I have coined a new word- "DUMBTH."

As a photographer I was dismayed when dumbth invaded my field. Look at the first image that I found on Facebook. It has 12,800 "Likes" as of this morning. Hundreds of comments followed the image, nearly all of which praised the lovely colors, claiming that the image was proof of God's work in this world.

META added the words in the second photo. Despite the overwhelming number of comments from those who loved the "photograph," META added, "...some critics argue the image appears enhanced and artificial, sparking a debate about the authenticity of the photo."

"Appears to be enhanced? Artificial?" Ya think???????

DUMBTH is a good word to know. You'll find it creep into almost all your conversations...

Fifteen minutes later this appeared on my Facebook feed…

Same number of comments praising the “photograph.” Is someone pulling my leg?

Atmospheric River Dining

Last Wednesday the North Bay was struck by an “atmospheric river,” as bands of rain, one after another, pummeled California. The river overflowed its banks and struck the Bay Area on Thursday and Friday. Thursday we served 125 breakfasts at Dorothy Day Shelter, to the homeless…and the very wet.

One of three pre-Covid patrons.

No one knows his name. He’s been coming to Dorothy Day ever since Jadyne and I began volunteering, a couple of years before Covid. For the first few years we thought he was mute. He never spoke. He indicated that he wanted two of everything—two boxes, two cups of black coffee, two containers of oatmeal, and two extra doughnuts, by pointing with his fingers. If anything went wrong, he became visibly angry. After Covid everything changed. He can speak, and he’s polite.

Our second pre-Covid patron.

Another old-timer. I photographed him years ago with his Abercrombie and Fitch sweatshirt. Again, unfailingly polite and humble. I don’t know his name, either. He’s stooped and hunched over now, more than I remember, no doubt compounded by substandard living situations. How many of our patrons actually live on the street I don’t know, but I suspect that most of them do.

Patron wearing a “raincoat.” We have clothes to give away, but not many raincoasts.

Patrons line up at 8:30 (some come earlier), then are admitted on wet days inside. We try not to keep them waiting any longer than we can, although some deliberate over which extra doughnut to choose, whether they want grits or oatmeal, or how many packets of sugar we’re willing to give them. Some ask for ten.

Mary Ann and Matthew. Mary Ann is one of the four Thursday volunteers. She knows many of the regulars, like Matthew, who had a lovely little harp that was stolen. We passed the hat. Matthew has a new harp.

Three and a half inches of rain, cold temperatures, and no complaints. Many express gratitude.

David Cesmat

…is fifty-four years old today. To celebrate his birthday he’s doing what he always does on his birthday—pushing a giant tire up Moeser Lane to Arlington Avenue.

David Cesmat

A cycling website describes Moeser Lane: “Moeser Lane presents riders with a challenging short burst that tests both their power and endurance. Nestled in El Cerrito, California, Moeser Lane offers a harsh ascent spanning approximately 1.47 kilometers. Cyclists face an elevation gain of 195 meters, translating into an average grade of 13.4% - though certain sections can feel even steeper. Beginning at a modest elevation, the route climbs rapidly, delivering a real sense of achievement once the summit is reached. This climb is renowned in local cycling communities not just for its daunting gradient but also for its inclusion in intense ride circuits like the Nifty Ten Fifty. Whether you're pushing for a personal best or just looking to conquer this beast, Moeser Lane demands respect and grit from all who attempt its slopes.”

Epic Climbs.info

On the Way Up David Reads the Tire

Embrace the Suck. Keep Hope Alive. Strength is Built in Doing What is Difficult. Shut Up and Train. No One Cares. Unbreakable. Discomfort is Your Friend. Life Pushes Hard, Push Hard Back! Learn to Suffer in Training Without Complaining. Grind Hard. Stay Humble. It Gets Heavy…Good! Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body. Become the Best Version of Yourself.

David is tethered to the tire. If one goes down the hill the other goes, too.

David reaches the “easier” part of Moeser.

It’s not a sprint.

Once up he lets it fall, then starts all over again. When I ran into David he was about halfway up. His best time is six and a half hours. He was hoping to beat that today, November 11, 2024, his fifty-fourth birthday. In the rain.

Do Americans Know What They've Gotten Themselves Into?

I wasn’t surprised as the southern states’ results came in. Trump was assured of those. But the blue wall? Pennsylvania? Wisconsin? I went to bed knowing that the results, inconclusive at bedtime, were not encouraging. Checking my phone in the morning I saw that Trump had passed the 270 electoral votes needed to claim the presidency.

I was confident that Kamala Harris would win. She believed and supported all the issues that were close to my heart. I thought that the abortion question alone would bring out enough women (and men who love them) to put her over the top. Fail. She not only lost the election, but she lost the popular vote, too.

How could I have been so naive? A woman? A black woman?

This could have been me on Wednesday.

Mary Trump: “I can't really offer you much in the way of comfort. There is a lot that's going to be playing out in the next days, weeks, and months, and we are going to have to grapple with all of it under pretty unimaginable circumstances. There's no false hope; no silver lining.

I don’t think Vice President Kamala Harris could have run a better, more professional, more inspiring campaign. It was nearly flawless, but for many reasons rooted in our dark and desperate and unacknowledged history, too many people refused to buy into her message of hope and unity. Too many people want what Donald Trump has to offer them. It will not serve them well.”

The Next Day

The brilliant writer Rebecca Solnit published an article that matches what I thought two days ago, what I believed, and why I was wrong.

Hindsight, of course, is 20-20. What did she do wrong? How did this happen? More objective minds than mine will be looking back on these last hundred days and analyzing, dissecting, and discussing the reasons. Meanwhile, we’re left to grapple with the consequences of electing a person devoid of honor, integrity, wisdom, empathy It doesn’t matter to me. That half the country would choose a leader who is a known liar, misogynist, cheat, and felon to lead the country speaks louder than words I could ever express.

So what do I do now? The hours of news watching, reading, worrying, et. al. are gone. I will focus on all that is close, dear, precious, warm, and loving that surrounds me. I have my health, I have Jadyne, I have friends, love, a warm house, enough money, and I still have most of my marbles. It’s time to come back home, to remember to keep the goodness that surrounds me in the front of my mind.