And Again

 There is an old superstition of sorts about how people, famous people, tend to die in threes. I suppose one could attempt to bear this notion out by looking at any give stretch of posts on this blog to see if there exists that sort of grouping based on my celebrity obituaries. This suggests that there is some ghoulish cadre of folks out there scanning the news for additional luminaries to pass away once one goes. And then there's the issue of what happens when that fourth one dies and we all have to wait for two more. 

To fulfill the prophecy. 

This sort of morbid math runs parallel to the way people like myself track "mass shootings." This past Saturday in Tallahassee, Florida gunfire erupted after a homecoming football game. If this story sounds familiar, that could be because it should. You read about it here less than a month ago as I was decrying the shooting at Dooly High after a homecoming game. This one was at Florida A&M. Nobody died. Twelve people were injured. Six of them were children. We can refer to this as a "mass shooting," but we cannot call it "mass murder." Spraying bullets around a crowded area indiscriminately without any casualties doesn't lessen the impact for those who witnessed it. "Tonight, our thoughts are with the victims and their families as they face the devastating impact of this violence," said Tallahassee Police Chief Lawrence Revell. "It is especially heartbreaking to know that children are among those injured."

I have no issue with Chief Revell's assessment. I will also mention that at this point, authorities had made no arrests. They could only say that "an altercation" occurred before the shooting broke out. 

Like what happened back in 2025 in Leland, Mississippi. 

Or in Baltimore in 2023. 

A cynic might suggest that guns don't kill people, Homecoming kills people. 

But I'm no cynic. Nor am I a mathematician, but the only way this all adds up for me is that young people shouldn't have to die to watch a football game. 

All Wet

 It was one of those weekend things. 

On Thursday night, it was a clogged drain in the bathroom. The initial plunging and cursing at the pipes did not solve the problem. 

Friday, when I came home from work, I decided to fiddle with the trap underneath the sink, figuring that the worst I could do was make things a little wet before moving on to the really big productions. Once the trap was removed, I discovered that the obstruction was not to be found there. It must lay further down the path.

Behind the wall. This necessitated a trip out to the garage to find the drain snake I hadn't used since the last time this homeowner's crisis erupted. And another trip to get the vice grips and then as I sat there on the floor contemplating my next move, I heard my wife's voice. 

I figured she was going to encourage me out of my obsessive state to remind me that we were supposed to be taking dinner over to her mother's house. She did that, and thadded that the back door was left open so the cat went out a wandering. 

I put the bits and pieces of the plumbing in the bathroom sink to remind anyone coming across it that it was out of order and went searching for the cat. 

This turned out to be a relatively simple fix, much easier than the ever-expanding sink issue. The cat was across the street, prowling about his old haunts. I took it as a gift from him that he mewed lightly but did not protest mightily when I picked him up and carried him back to the house. 

I chose not to force my wife into a Home Depot run after dinner and came home to the wreck that I had created, going to bed with the knowledge that my Saturday was now committed to putting things back in something that resembled order. 

But first there was the obligatory yard ape chores, lopping off the top of one tree and stuffing our green bin as full as I could with the past weekend's trimmings. Then it was time to bang my head against the project that was calling out to me. 

There was not one but two trips to the hardware store. The first one was to get a part that I was sure would make things work again. The second was to buy a whole new trap for the sink since I was wrong the first time. While I stared into the void where the water refused to flow, I remembered we had a long handled brush that we used to clear the lint filter for our washing machine. Poking at that brought a ton of slime and pushed the clog further into the void.

When the new trap was in place, I had to negotiate the sundry drips and drops that were not part of the overall scheme. I was after flowing water, but through pipes, not on the floor of the bathroom. 

When all was said and done, there was still a bit of a trickle when the faucet ran for more than a minute or two beneath the sink. I asked my wife for permission to leave a rag there to sop up the potential moisture, and called it a day. 

But not before cleaning up the slop I had generated and putting all the materials in their proper place. 

And scrubbing the bathtub. 

Because that took me right up until five PM. 

Sunday was still a frontier.  

Improprietous

 Impropriety sounds so polite. It doesn't seem all that bad. If I were accused of impropriety, I might blush.

But I wouldn't resign. 

Of course there is the little matter if I hadn't been elected to anything, or if my position didn't show up on any organizational chart, I could probably just lay low for a month or two and wait for the storm to pass. 

Especially if my father-in-law happened to be squatting in the White House.

Dutch intelligence investigators uncovered secret bank accounts linked to Jared Kushner containing over seven hundred million dollars in foreign transfers from the UAE and Israel during his time as a White House adviser. Additionally, Kushner's firm, Affinity Partners, manages billions largely backed by sovereign wealth funds from Gulf nations like Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the UAE. Investigations revealed the firm holds major stakes in entities tied to Israeli military suppliers while Kushner concurrently acts as a mediator in Middle East diplomatic talks. This prompted congressional inquiries into potential influence peddling and severe conflicts of interest. 

Need more? Operating as an unconfirmed volunteer exempt from standard financial disclosures, Kushner faces a federal lawsuit from Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington (CREW) seeking to block his exercise of official government authority. CREW contends this dual role violates the Appointments Clause, whereas Kushner's legal representation maintains his status complies entirely with federal guidelines.

It might be that young Jared is far too pale to be perceived as blushing. Or it could be that the "perceived impropriety" just doesn't stand up to the stink test in the current climate. The tractor paths across the front lawn and the shredded bits of the Constitution that little the "reflecting pool" suggest that there is little if anything that can or will be done at this time.

Which reminds me: There is an election coming. 

Vote. 

Like it mattered. 

Because it does. 

Round On The Ends, Hi In The Middle

 I am currently trying to keep track of a California Governor's race that should end in a fairly easy victory for the Democrats, but I have been surprised before. You might remember when the Terminator rolled into Sacramento.

Or not.

Because that would be primarily a California issue, and outside the Golden State, why would anyone care who ended up being governor? Well, there is the matter of being the world's fourth largest economy. And it's the place where, currently, a whole bunch of the entertainment industry abides. 

Would Netflix look any different if it originated from, say, Ohio? 

Amy Acton is the Democrat running for governor of Ohio, currently leading Republican (checks notes) Vivek Ramaswamy, by three to seven points. Why should this matter? Well, it could be that Ohio has been a bellwether for Presidential Elections for decades. Lately, the Buckeye state has become something of a Republican stronghold, serving as a platform for Trumpreichs one and two to take off. Their economy squeezes somewhere in between Turkey and Switzerland, which is no particular threat to global finances one way or another, but when someone spends four million dollars to get an ad on the televisions and miscellaneous screens of registered voters two weeks before the election, it causes a stir. 

Especially when that ad features the estranged mother of Democratic candidate Amy Acton, labeling her a liar. It is only when you know that Ms. Acton's stepfather was arrested for the rape and abuse of his stepdaughter who was only twelve years old at the time. Since then, mother and daughter have remained apart, for what seems to be obvious reasons. Until Vivek decided to stir that ugly pot in an attempt to call his opponent's veracity into account. Not about shady real estate deals or failed Alzheimer's drugs, that would be Monsieur Ramaswamy.

You may remember Vivek from a little-seen string of personal appearances as a Republican candidate for president back in 2024. He made quite a scene on the debate stage before ultimately dropping out and endorsing (checks notes) a convicted felon. He was the guy stirring that pot and eventually had to walk away from a thirty percent favorable assessment from Republicans. 

Now he wants to be governor. This creature without a conscience wants to wade into the reflecting pool created by his political mentor. Fellow Buckeye, Junior Dingus Vance was repulsed. Not by the ad, but fellow Republicans "whining" about the ad. 

I live in California, but I can tell you that this should not be a contest. Not even in Ohio. 

Catching Up

 I miss my mom. 

I miss Maddie. 

I miss Darren. 

This is a crowded month when it comes to remembering those passed. My mother went away in the middle of October, 2022. Our best and forever dog shuffled off her mortal coil back in October of 2013. Darren started this preoccupation with autumn back on October 24, 1985. 

If you're keeping score, that's more than forty years of flinching every time the page on the calendar features pumpkins and falling leaves. 

I know. There are so many other folks out there who have lived lives affected by so much more loss. This is only exacerbated by my habit of writing celebrity obituaries here on my memories vault. The departure of the funniest person I ever knew left a hold in my comedy firmament that remains to this day. Not that my mother and our dog weren't hysterical in their own particular idiom. My world requires a good sense of humor. 

Which is odd that all these years later I still find my metaphorical tongue searching for that metaphorical missing tooth. My mother had lost both her parents by the time she was a young mother of one son, with two more waiting in the wings. I never knew my mother's parents. My mother did get a chance to meet both Darren and Maddie. 

That bit of cosmic tag gives me some pleasure. My mom also got to spend some quality time with my son as well. This gives me some sense of completion, though I don't know if we ever finished our marathon gin rummy game. Our last hand played together did not include a settling of points from the previous sixty years. 

I expect this is part of how I will spend my own time in eternity. 

Not that eternity has any time.

Which is fine, since there seems to be a lot of catching up for me to do. With Maddie, Darren and Mom. 

All Stirred Up

 With all due respect to all of the folks who gathered last weekend to participate in the fourth in a series of No Kings protests, they may not have been pushing the panic button as hard as they might. One need only to look across the pond at France to see just how a nation that knows its riots carries things out. Last Saturday, more than half a million French folks, primarily students  took to the streets to protest the staff shortages and dilapidated facilities in the country's lycées, secondary schools attended by fifteen - to eighteen -year-olds.

What started out as mostly peaceful demonstrations turned more chaotic as the sun went down. Buildings and vehicles were set ablaze and there were reports of looting. Protests such as these have been bolstered by trade union members and other factions. Many see this as a prelude to the kind of disruptions that may occur during next year's presidential election in France. 

The politics of right and left are being felt in Gaul, and not for the first time. Faux News Talking Head Brian Kilmeade argued with California Representative Ro Khanna, insisting that it was useless to "wreck a city" in order to make your voice heard. Brian wanted his viewers to know that France's problems could be ours. 

Hard to argue that point in a global economy that has seen the actions of one country's leader disrupt an entire planet. This is the guy who has decided to shutter his country's department of education. Massive tax cuts for the wealthy have ramped up the already ridiculous effect of the rich getting richer while the poor get to pay six dollars for a gallon of gas. And when it comes to wrecking a city, few are as good as that as the guy who tore down the East Wing of "the people's house."

Let them eat cake, indeed. 

Red, white and blue cake. 

Negative Action

 It should probably not come as a surprise to any sentient being out there that the number of women who have left, voluntarily or otherwise, the Second Trumpreich stands in stark contrast to the number of men who have been shown the door. 

Kristi Noem, known enemy of puppies everywhere and former "ICE Barbie" was let go back in March of this year.

Pam Bondi, who once suggested that the Epstein Files were on her desk, just waiting to be released, was dismissed shortly after Kristi. 

Lori Chavez-DeRemer, who was Labor Secretary, was fired after she got tangled up in an ethics and misconduct investigation. That was in April.

The Director of National Intelligence used to be Tulsi Gabbard, but in May she got the heave because she couldn't meet the policy expectations of Dear Leader. 

Kimberly Guilfoyle, who once dated the convicted felon's son and was married to California's Governor, lost her job as Ambassador to Greece after she begged for a Republican donor to pay her American Express bill. Unlucky in love, unlucky in the Second Trumpreich. 

And let us not forget the glorious five day run Katie Zacahria had as press secretary. This one redefined "short term employer." Even Sean Hannity struggled to put a good face on that one. 

If you were to list the departures of all the rats leaving this sinking ship, the lady rats still lead eight to seven over their Y chromosome counterparts. Which is interesting given that men in the Second Trumpreich outnumber women at a ratio of five to one. 

If I didn't know better, I would say there's a bit of misogyny going on in the adjudicated rapist's second term. 

Shocked. That's what I am.