We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes
'Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers that blow; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima, reclined, Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared; The fair round face, the snowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoise vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, She saw: and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide, The Genii of the stream; Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro' richest purple to the view Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw: A whisker first and then a claw, With many an ardent wish, She stretched in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold despise? What cat's averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent Again she stretched, again she bent, Nor knew the gulf between. (Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled) The slippery verge her feet beguiled, She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood She mewed to every watery god, Some speedy aid to send. No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirred; Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard. A favorite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties, undeceived, Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts is lawful prize, Nor all, that glistens, gold.
A special smell in the air. Crickets and Katydid chorus. Locusts all done by now. Cooler nights. A perfect time of year to take a few days' break from my mornings links.
More reason to worry? Here are some higher ed students, and I wonder how they were ever accepted anywhere other than the need for warm butts to fill empty seats:
Like so many regulations (manicurists? barbers?), I understand that part of the impetus comes from protection of existing guilds, but why can't government just leave people alone to pursue their honest trades?
An excellent summary of American political divisions today from Left-Liberal Michael Lind: LIBERAL VIEWS - The arbitrary line between “left” and “right” is drawn smack through the middle of the liberal tradition. So, I clarify my own position: the "left-liberal."
We left-liberals have less in common with other “left” philosophies and movements than we do with “right-liberals” — the proper name for moderate conservatives in the U.S., UK, and similar societies with well-established liberal traditions. (Radical libertarians sometimes call themselves “classical liberals,” but they are not really part of the liberal tradition; their intellectual ancestors are nineteenth-century anarchists).
Lind is a reasonable guy, but my three questions to people he terms "left-liberals" are these: "What is the end-point of the Progressive, big government project?"; "Whence your faith and trust in governmental enterprises anyway?" and "How much does individual freedom enter into your political thinking?"
I have never heard satisfactory answers to those three questions.
Friends have just returned from a week in Ravello, While there, the whole family (all 5 of them) took a full-day cooking class with Mama Agata. Despite their other holiday pleasures, they all agreed that was the high point of their trip. Mamma Agata (click on cooking classes - reservations required).
The best satire skirts the edges of reality and blends reality with fun, creating amusing disorientation. Of course, when it's from The Onion, you know what to expect.
I enjoyed this subtle satire on the self-centered Western obsession with identity, self-realization, and self-actualization: How to Be Yourself When You Don't Know Who You Are - with JP Sears
How to Stay Awake on the Road: Tips to Combat Drowsy Driving. Those are some reasonable ideas, especially the quick nap in the car or a stop with a little walk. If it's a frequent problem that you have, and you need to drive long distances often, you might persuade your doc to prescribe some low-dose amphetamine or adderal for the purpose. That's what truck drivers do. Call it "Driving Narcolepsy."
It is odd, isn't it, that when you arrive at destination you can feel just fine?
I had been hearing how good it is for a while, so I have been giving them a try.
There are two versions of Crossfit - the Fitness version (general full-body fitness - "functional movements at high intensity") and the Sport (the cultish, extreme, heavy weight-lift) version. I do the Fitness version. It is a tough, exhausting group workout where people of all ages (I see age 16 to age 80) and all levels of fitness (fat ladies) do the same thing like a team, but each at his or her own level of ability.
In one of the sessions I like to go to, we have a blind guy. Also, a guy who had a stroke, and a couple of guys who have had heart attacks. It is good fun, bonding, and everybody helps and supports each other. It is also inexpensive, and a good place to meet gals. One of the cool things about the program is that you never know what they will have you doing. It's varied, so it stays interesting and challenging.
It has been surprising to me how quickly your body can respond to these sorts of demands. There are now 10,000 Crossfit "boxes" in the US.
It was more black families 50 years ago, now the decay has expanded.
The goal of the Moynihan Report, he said, had been to begin a serious national conversation about the implications of those sizable numbers of out-of-wedlock births and what they said about the condition of the family and marriage. His fellow liberals believed that the social and cultural pathologies Moynihan had identified could be effectively addressed by an historic expansion of the federal government. President Johnson’s War on Poverty, launched in 1964, was defined in part by a series of programs that would intervene against family and marriage breakdown, helping to arrest, reverse, and eventually eradicate the problems that Moynihan had identified.
But Moynihan was skeptical. Government could not tuck a child into bed at night; government could not save a marriage; government could not help a broken family fall in love again. These were, he said, primarily cultural problems and not economic or political ones—a bold assertion at a time when trust in big government was embraced by members of both parties.
Percy’s diagnosis was that when we are mired in the everydayness of ordinary life, we are susceptible to what he called “the malaise,” a free-floating despair associated with the feeling that you’re not a part of the world or connected to the people in it. You are alienated, detached. As Percy put it in “The Moviegoer,” “The malaise has settled like a fallout and what people really fear is not that the bomb will fall but that the bomb will not fall.” The heroes of his books, each in his own way, embark on a search for the cause and cure of this syndrome. “What is the nature of the search?” wonders Binx Bolling, the narrator of “The Moviegoer.” “The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life.”
It's the inner totalitarianism of the worldwide Left. There is always an excuse to control and oppress the people, and to take their money. For the Greater Good, of course.
Is the Fed Necessary?
My wife was addicted to Ashley Madison
No double moon in 2015, 
Global Warming Killed 30% Of Moose, Is Preventing Bears From Hibernating? 