Courage Under Fire

 Discretion, we are told, is the better part of valor.

What I am about to relate to you is what some of us in the business refer to as "irony." I would also encourage you to listen to Lalo Schifrin's theme to Mission: Impossible as you contemplate the events of July 8, 2026. 

Under the veil of threats from Iran, the convicted felon boarded Air Force One as usual in Turkey. Then he proceeded to head out the door on the other side of the plane into a waiting catering truck. You know, the ones that rise up on on a scissor lift to load an aircraft with nominally edible refreshments before your flight takes off to destinations known and unknown. But mostly known if you're a real person. The former game show host does not fall into that classification, so in order to save the Orange Worst from potentially being shot down in that big blue and white plane, they snuck him off and put him and Pistol Pete Hegseth on another, smaller military aircraft that was neither the old blue and white version of Air Force One nor the fancy-schmancy Qatari upgraded version. 

Once back in the United Kingdom, the adjudicated rapist was loaded back into the old version of the 747 he had narrowly avoided riding in from Turkey to Suffolk, England. Reporters and other staff were told they needed to make the four hour flight with the blinds pulled on the plane "for security reasons." When asked about this strategy after the decoy flight had landed, the MAGAt in chief reminded us that in spite of his outward indifference to the death threats from the country he started a war with to distract from his nefarious dealings back home: "Well, yeah, because you’re probably on a dangerous flight because of the sleaze bags that we have to deal with."

Dangerous? Not for catering trucks. But certainly for the members of the press on board that big blue and white target up in the sky. 

Which brings me to my lingering question: If this was supposed to be such a big secret, how is it that a month after the fact it becomes worldwide news? What gaping hole in military intelligence allowed the details of this bait and switch that saw the twice-impeached "president" taken off his hyper-secure Oval Office in the sky and stuffed in a bin with Chex Mix and cans of V-8 juice? Is there a need amongst us all to know just how limited this buffoon's authority really is? 

Coming from the guy who has repeatedly called for the extermination of an entire country, dating back to April when he issued his version of a fatwa: "a whole civilization will die tonight." He's also the guy who blew up a school full of little girls in February. All that tough talk has him hiding in catering trucks.

And golf courses around the world. 

Boom!

Someone on social media recently asked if we would all be so kind to let them know when it is safe to eat lettuce again. 

From what I have been reading, this won't be anytime soon. Explosive diarrhea would be the consequence for finding out that perhaps you may have rushed that transaction. I don't know about you, but it's the explosive part of that phrase that gives me the most pause. "Explosive" anything seems like a bad idea in general, but if it involves your gastrointestinal tract, especially so. 

So, if eating lettuce has become a chance operation, what sort of alternatives does that leave us with? Well, if you're concerned about where your daily allowance of fiber is coming from, you might want to steer clear of products from Taylor Farms. For a good long time.

You might remember Taylor Farms from their company CEO's White House visit earlier this summer. the one that came just before the report that was going to be issued linking Taylor Farms with the previously mentioned explosive diarrhea. Somewhere in there a very large donation was made by Taylor Farms to MAGA Inc. Large to the tune of one million dollars. If you are not a gastroenterologist, you may not have pieced together the effects of a million dollars on explosive diarrhea. It doesn't make it any less explosive, but it can make it seem like less of a big deal to the consumer. Which didn't keep them from recalling all their iceberg lettuce this summer.

And now this same company, Taylor Farms, is recalling a dozen more of its products, including salsa and guacamole, for concerns about possible salmonella bacteria. If you're still curious about all things gastronomical, salmonella is the bug that can give you painful food poisoning. This time it wasn't the lettuce, but rather the jalapenos that were to blame. 

Or maybe that visit to the White House should have included a little negotiating with the Food and Drug Administration. The Second Trumpreich saw fit to cut thousands of positions within the FDA, including many who were overseeing food safety. Eliminating their jobs did not have the magic effect of making our food more safe. Instead, it would seem that the result was, in a couple words, Explosive Diarrhea. 

For now, I'll just skip the lettuce. And the jalapenos. Let me know when I can have Taco Bell without Explosive Diarrhea. 

If ever. 

Futility

 It is an exciting time. 

Back to school. 

I can remember how upset my son would be the first time he saw a reminder from retailers that it was time to stock up on binders and glue sticks. Or one of those snappy adverts reminding everyone it was time to go out and grab the latest cool looks for the return to the classroom. This eventually transferred to, in his senior year of high school, one of the more amusing things he did as the student in charge of the reader board stationed outside his last stand in public education. In the two weeks prior to classes coming back into session, he posted a reminder of the dates along with the warning: "Resistance is futile." 

I thought of this bit of chicanery as I worked long hours in the week leading up to this year's back to school day. Moving furniture. Lifting boxes. Repairing desks. And putting brightly colored and border up on the acres of bulletin boards that line the hallways of my school. Being a teacher has a great many long days, sometimes without breaks or respite from the grind, but these days of preparation bring their own level of stress and strain. 

I would have loved a chance to head out to Target to take advantage of all those Back To School values. 

Instead, I was honor bound to make sure that our school was ready for that moment when the front gates open and first graders would magically morph into second graders. Last year's fourth graders would suddenly find themselves at the top of the food chain in fifth. Would they notice the way the border on the bulletin board outside their classroom complemented the color of the paper behind it? Or would their attention be drawn to their friends' new backpacks and sneakers? 

I was once again surprised by the accordion folds in time and how close each one of these first days seem to cram together. I expect that those long weeks before Winter Break will still tempt me to rethink my understanding of infinity, as will the days preceding those Last Days of the year. Each of these countdowns will have meaning for me as what will be most likely the last to impact me in the same way as I waltz toward retirement. 

It is a force I may never be able to ignore.

Resistance is indeed futile.  

Big Deal

 I know. We're supposed to stand in awe of the deal-making prowess of the convicted felon squatting in the ruins of the White House. He got elected, twice, on this illusory power of negotiating and generating transactions that would create the kind of economy that only seems to exist in his tiny little mind.

That being said, the most recent revelation of the twice-elected and coincidentally twice-impeached very stable genius' business acumen caught me a little off guard. German energy company RWE has said it will abandon its offshore wind projects in the United States after reaching a 1.2 billion dollar payout deal with the Second Trumpreich's  Department of the Interior. Pardon me for just a moment as I muse briefly about the fact that the department that deals with the stuff in our country that is outside is called "Interior."

I digress. 

Instead of wind, RWE said that it will now reinvest that great big wad of cash  into conventional gas projects, including nine hundred million dollars in a liquified natural gas export terminal project in Louisiana. This switch will no doubt please the knuckle-draggers in the fossil fuel business, who have been ever-so-pleased to rake in record profits as a result of the Epstein Files distraction disguised as a war with Iran. 

More opportunities to make money from dead dinosaurs. Meanwhile, China continues to embarrass us with their willingness to build and switch over to renewable forms of energy. Their onshore and offshore wind farms currently supply ten percent of their country's energy. 

The former game show host is paying companies not to do just that for the United States. RWF is not the only being paid to switch from wind projects to more "conventional" forms of energy such as liquified natural gas. Coincidentally, those massive data centers that seem to be popping up everywhere are often run on (wait for it) natural gas. As of 2017, gas emissions from stationary sources led to more deaths than coal in at least nineteen states. 

While we're struggling to gather the seventy dollars it takes to fill our gas tank, and watching as our utility bills continue to spiral out of control, the Orange Worst is paying companies to make our lives more expensive. That's what the tiny brain that bankrupted his own casinos four times came up with. High crimes and misdemeanors? I'd say this is yet another batch of evidence for the third impeachment. 

BOTD

 Born on this day:

My wife

The mother of my child

Writer in residence at Joaquin Miller Park

Daughter of Jan and Louise

Sister of Felix and Damian

Cousin to seemingly countless more

Speaking of countless, the number of personas and pen-names inhabiting this one soul defies easy accounting. 

But mostly, she's America's Friend, Polly Polka Dot. 

If you're planning a brief stroll or a visit to the local mall, you can expect to stop and chat with a great many human beings. Some she knows. Some she has met before. And then a great many who happen to fall within that great ray of interest that emanates from her. She wants to know what you're up to. She wants to be, as her title suggests, your friend. 

Now, this can make progress toward a goal difficult at times. Don't expect that getting from point A to point B to be a quick change. If you're along for the ride, you will be introduced because this is the way we grow a community. She will, on occasion, approach a person who she believes is already on her list just to make sure that the contact remains intact. "Do I know you?" 

If she doesn't, she will after she's done. 

Once upon a time, I gave an interview about this blog and suggested it existed to connect with strangers who were friends I haven't met yet. I said this was a quote from Fred Rogers. As it turns out, I was actually referencing a quote from Will Rogers. Such a tangled web of Rogers out there. Now that I have set that record straight, I would like to wish America's Friend, Polly Polka Dot, a happy birthday and appreciate her for all those strangers she has turned into friends. Sometimes it slows us down, but it's all worth it. 

Look Out, 'Cause Here It

 There seems to be a lot of concern these days about the looming specter of communism. This is a lot easier to manage than the looming specter of socialism. After all, we have embedded in our fiercely anti-communist society little reminders of things like Social Security. And public schools. And a great many other programs that seem to have been created with the citizens of our nation in mind. Public health care, food relief, and a great many things that have "care" somehow connected to them by implication or in the title. Which is why the conservatives cling to the name "Obamacare" instead of the Affordable Care Act, since it gives them a chance to double down on their hate. 

This is the big threat to our way of life, the MAGAts will tell you: Communists. This brought me back to my seventh grade geography teacher, Mister Clements. He passed out to his class a piece of paper titled "Isms Defined." 

• Fascism: If you have two cows, you keep the cows and give the milk to the government; then the government sells you some milk.
• Nazism: If you have two cows, the government shoots you and keeps the cows.
• Socialism: If you have two cows, you give one to your neighbor.
• Communism: If you have two cows, you give them to the government and the government then gives you some milk.

Back in 1974, this seemed completely adequate to describe conditions on the planet, with the kicker being that Democracy was supposed to allow everyone, including the cows, to live and thrive in peace. Which is essentially what the oligarchy we have now continues to push at us as the narrative we should believe. 

Except that none of us down here seem to own cows, and the corporations who do seem completely invested in the idea that we will pay just about anything for a quart of milk. Or a steak. 

Meanwhile, these folks calling them democratic socialists have started to show up as a stark contrast to the establishment. Most notable in this wave is the new Mayor of New York City, Zohran Mamdani. In the first eight months in office, he has secured state funding and rollout plans for universal child care for two-year-olds, won thirty-four million dollars in tenant settlements and repairs from landlords, securing nine  million dollars in worker and small business restitution, and filled one hundred thousand potholes across the five boroughs. 

No word on what's happening to New York City's cows. 

Our Best Shot

The beat goes on. 

An In 'n' Out got shot up in Idaho. In what has become standard lone gunman procedure, the lone gunman died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Three innocent victims were shot and killed by this nitwit with an assault rifle. 

Evil nitwit. 

Evil. 

Twenty-three year old Ashley Garibay was killed while assisting in the training of new crew members at the burger joint that now serves as a crime scene. She used to live in Stockton, California. Now she doesn't live. 

Christopher Claunch, whose life ended at fifty-nine, had recently gotten sober. Two years ago, he started his life over and was hired by the rehab center he had attended as a patient. Christopher wanted to help others start their lives over. 

Dale Schultz was also passing through Idaho when his life was cut short by an evil nitwit. An artist and pickleball player, Dale was a husband, father and grandfather. His wife, Reinette, was wounded in the melee and remains in the hospital. Her life is forever changed as well. 

Six others were injured. Their lives as well as those throughout the community of Twin Falls, Idaho. 

And beyond. 

Grand Haven, Michigan.

Denmark, Tennessee. 

East Saint Louis, Illinois.

Rittman, Ohio.

Livonia, Michigan.

Cheektowaga, New York. 

Muscatine, Iowa. 

That's a list of communities in which a mass shooting has occurred, with the number of casualties set as three or more victims. Since June 1, 2026. Two months and change here in the United States. Lives cut short and lives changed. Forever. 

And that's a