Category Archives: US History

Reconstruction

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon II

Tuesday gratefuls: My furry alarm clock and her Velociraptor teeth. Seeing Shadow’s shadow cast by the nightlight. Maddie. From da region. Hammond, Indiana. New palliative care nurse. Also wanting to convert to Judaism. Reconstruction. Her trick with the tramadol. Darkness of early Morning. The Night Sky. Orion. The Southern Cross. The Teapot. Ursa Major. Polaris. North Star.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: AI and Ancientrails

Week Kavannah: Persistence and grit. Netzach.

One brief shining: Using AI, right now, to organize Ancientrails by thematic sections with chapters related to the themes, an exciting idea which came to me last night before sleep.

 

My AI monk has begun its oh so rapid read of Ancientrails. I’ve asked it to fill the chapters with content and images from the last four years. For now. Once I see how this works I’ll go for the whole megillah. Try different organizational schemes. Will take some while to get something interesting, I imagine.

What fun.

 

With the aid of chatgpt yesterday I uncovered something I’d wondered about for a while, the origin of the idea of reconstruction. Reconstructionist Judaism is the brain child (an interesting cliche, if you stop to think about it.) of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan.

Kaplan’s thought was and is radical relative especially to the three thousand year plus history of Jewish life and thought. No supernaturalism. No God behind the Ozian curtain. No chosenness. Jews and Judaism have no special spot in God’s heart. Kaplan’s daughter was the first ever bat mitzvah, a practice now commonplace among all branches of Judaism except Orthodoxy. And much, much more.

What I got to wondering about was the idea of reconstruction itself. Why that word to describe his approach? My hunch was that it had something to with the post-WWI world still reeling from the war and the Spanish Flu epidemic.

That idea came to me because I had a small volume by the pragmatist reformer, educator, and philosopher John Dewey titled simply: Reconstruction in Philosophy. Dewey and pragmatism influenced Kaplan. I knew that.

The idea of reconstruction after the despair and disillusionment of WWI became wide spread after the publication of Dewey’s book, a collection of his lectures in Tokyo. “Intellectuals and policy-makers on both sides of the Atlantic began to speak of reconstructing society, institutions and even thought itself—an active, rational process of rebuilding what the war had laid bare.” chatgpt excerpt.

Reconstructionist sentiments soon motivated education reformers like the Frontier Thinkers who wanted to use schools for social reconstruction. It showed up in governments, too. The U.K. had a Ministry of Reconstruction with the responsibility to: “Oversee the task of rebuilding ‘the national life on a better and more durable foundation’ once the Great War was over.” And the U.S created a Reconstruction Finance Corporation which gave “emergency credit to banks, railroads and states to restore confidence amid the Great Depression.”

There were, too, applications in Christianity and broader social circles as this chatgpt excerpt shows:  “Reconstruction also surfaced in liberal Protestant circles (e.g., Henry C. King’s Reconstruction in Theology, re-read after 1918) and in secular planning debates about housing, labour relations and women’s roles. The common thread was the conviction that the old order—political, moral, intellectual—had failed, and that conscious, expert-led rebuilding was both possible and necessary.”

Reconstructionist Judaism is, then, living out a pattern of reform and innovation created by global horror at WWI and its root causes. Since the world proceeded rapidly to WWII, the Korean War, Vietnam, and the multiple conflicts in the Middle East as well as the sinkhole of the Ukraine, I’d say we still have work to do.

 

 

A Masculinism for the 21st century?

Spring and the 2% Wu Wei Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow. Rain. Donyce. Ruth. Gabe. Tom. Pain. Talmud Torah. Mussar. Men’s group. CBE. Marilyn and Irv. Primo’s. Aspen Perks. Conifer Cafe. Dandelion. Bread Lounge. Golden Stix. My son. Seoah. The Jangs. Coming to America.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Toys for Shadow

Week Kavannah: Persistence and grit. Netzach.

One brief shining: Sat here yesterday with two good friends, Tom and Shadow, Shadow circling, coming up to Tom’s arm, then moving away, yes, I want to know you, but slowly, maybe next time a bit more, I don’t know you, not sure about you, sniff, sniff, sniff, maybe next time a bit more.

 

Shadow has wounds. Trauma. Probably inflicted by a man. Deep voice. Tall. (to her). She cowers sometimes when I put out my hand. Not always now, a big advance. Like many of us H. Sapiens she wants, needs connection, yet fears it, too. A sadness on my part. As Tom said, don’t you love belonging to the gender and race guilty of so much abuse? Oh, yeah.

Wondering again. About the material I read about boys in American schools. About the young college men my granddaughter describes as infected with toxic masculinity. Not worth giving a try. About men like the Proud Boys, the Promise Keepers, the red-hatted flush-faced American flag waving believers in replacement theory and the strange ideas of the incels.

My gut tells me its time, past time, to focus on men and boys the same energy Simone de Beauvoir and Gloria Steinem and Betty Freidan and Angela Davis and Michelle Obama gave to women and girls.

But how. Men. Stoic. Loyal. Competitive. Strong physically. Crippled emotionally. Fearful. Often cowardly. Bert Lahr lions and/or tin men.

I suppose that’s not a bad a way to think about it. American men fell asleep among the poppies on the yellow brick road. They never got a heart or a brain. Instead they use dominance and aggression where empathy and camaraderie would better serve. They pledge allegiance to false idols like conservative Christianity, MAGA, white supremacy rather than using reason leavened with compassion.

How can we wake them up? Shake them up? Not as Republicans or MAGA-men, but first as men. As fathers, brothers, sons, friends, lovers.

I have a hunch that woke men would defeat the red-hat menace all on their own. Would realize the damage being done not only to their mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters but to themselves. Let alone our suffering nation once a shining city on a hill now a landfill for the refuse of buried tenderness and thwarted love.

I know I’m complicit. Raised a white man in mid-last century Indiana, subject to all the ills available to young boys and men back then.

That is, of course, the huge issue when thinking about a masculinist movement, a masculinism for our time. We are not oppressed, rather we are repressed. We do not need empowerment, rather we need softening, gentling. No marches for men’s rights. We have more than our share.

The men’s movement, in which I have a small role, has failed to become widespread. It has failed to change the trajectory of masculinity in any appreciable way.

My granddaughter won’t date the men we’ve raised. As many young women will not. Can you blame them?

Perhaps even more than defeating our own Mussolini we need to learn how to become human. How to wake our brothers asleep among the poppies. Get them back on the yellow brick road to see the wizard.

Tao De Jew

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shabbat. Torah. CBE. Sacred community. Where everybody knows your name. Shadow and the canoe cut marrow bone. Cold Night. A Mountain Dawn. Great Sol shines again. Being able to buy seeds and plants again. Easter. Matthew. Mark. Luke. John.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe at 17

Week Kavannah: Sensibility. Daat.

One brief shining: In their waning years Taoists left behind their jobs in the court bureaucracy for small dwellings in the Mountains where they practiced calligraphy, played the Qin, wrote poetry, studied the sages, and lived close to the natural world.

 

Tao De Jew. With a dash of Alinsky and street focused organizer. The Reverend Doctor Israel Harari. That would be me. With a domestic side of Gardener, Beekeeper, and Docent.

Try to work with the flow of chi, the energetic and transformative aspect of our oneness and our sense of uniqueness. Look for the path that emerges, that asks and invites. Follow it. This ancientrail, then that one. With the ease of Water running toward the Ocean.

Find the moment when chi has found you. Act with its already organized aim. If Shadow gnaws the bed at 5:20, get up and let her out. Saves cleaning up. Makes her happy. Gives the day an hour head start.

Reconstructionist Judaism, Paganism, Taoism.  Sacred Community, Mother Earth, and a follower of the Way. When the Mule Deer comes. When the bull Elk bugles. When Fawns and Calves play. As the Mountain Lion strikes. As the Bear paws a Bee hive. Yes. When tender shoots break through the soil. When friends gather over breakfast. When Torah study opens new human insights. When the Breeze through the Lodgepoles whispers follow me. Yes.

 

Have you been following the Adventures of Trump Tarrific? I know I have. Sort of. There was the all tariffs all the time moment. Then there was the oh wait not on tech stuff moment. Now there’s, what is it again? 10% on everybody and a whole lot on China. Yeah, I don’t get it either. Lucky I’m not alone. Business leaders. Economists. Inflation wary members of the Fed. For a start.

Then there’s Trump the Depo Man. Proving his masculinity by using the military, ICE, and millions of dollars to sweep people off college campuses, out of their janitorial and dishwashing jobs, making a mistake or two along the way, but hey that’s ok, omelets and eggs, eh, and not getting many folks deported except the most vulnerable.

That what it says in the Gospels: find the poor, the stranger, put them on a plane and send them to prison in El Salvador. Oh, Jesus. Oh.

 

Just a moment: Yes. It’s Easter. Easter eggs. Chocolate and marshmallow Bunnies. Ham. Cute dresses and boys in ties. All the holiday essentials. Wonder how that whole egg business has worked this year, the year of Bird flu?

Remember Ukrainian Easter Eggs. Wonder if anybody’s on that this year? Or will Putin target little old ladies with eggs and candle wax.

 

 

Living. Not dying.

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow. Her kindness. Amy. Her understanding. Cookunity. Colorado Coop and Garden. The Greenhouse. Gardening again. Korea. Malaysia. Australasia. Wisconsin. Saudi Arabia. The Bay. First Light. 10,000 Lakes. The Rocky Mountain Front Range. Where my people live.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greenhouse

Week Kavannah: Joy. Simcha.

One brief shining: Nathan and I wandered in my back yard, his app that shows Great Sol’s illumination searching for a good spot to plant my greenhouse, until we neared a spot close to the shed, that was it with decent morning Sun and an hours worth of afternoon Sun more than anywhere else.

 

 

That picture is not quite what I’m getting. Mine will have an outdoor raised bed on either side and shutters that move themselves as the greenhouse heats up and cools down. It will also have an electric heater for Winter and a drip irrigation system inside and out.

This guy Nathan, a Conifer native, started his business Colorado Coop and Garden to give folks like me an opportunity to grow things up here. Working a garden at ground level is long past for me. But Nathan can build the raised beds at a height where my back is not an issue.

Guess I’m regressing here in some ways. A Dog. A small Garden. Andover in miniature. The greenhouse will have a sign: Artemis Gardens. Artemis Honey was Kate and mine’s name for our bee operation.

 

I’m loving my classes at Kabbalah Experience. Reaching deep into the purpose of religion and Judaism in particular. Reimagining the story of Adam and Eve. My life, my Jewish life and my Shadow Mountain life, have begun to resonate. Learning and living an adventure in fourth phase purpose.

No matter what the near term future holds for my health I will not succumb to despair or bleakness. As I’ve often said, I want to live until I die. This life, I’m coming to realize, is me doing just that.

If I were a bit more spry, I’d add a chicken coop and a couple of bee hives, but both require more flexibility than I can muster.

I’m at my best when I’m active outside with Mother Earth and inside with a Dog, books, and new learning. All that leavened with the sort of intimate relationships I’ve developed both here and in Minnesota and with my far flung family.

That’s living in the face of autocracy and cruelty. I will not attenuate my life. Neither for the dark winds blowing through our country and world, nor for that dark friend of us all, death.

 

Just a moment: Did you read Thomas Friedman’s article: I’ve Never Been More Afraid for My Countries Future? His words, served up with a healthy dish of Scandinavian influenced St. Louis Park Judaism, ring more than true to me. They have the voice of prophecy.

We are in trouble. No doubt. Trouble from which extrication will require decades, I imagine. If not longer. Yet. I plan to grow heirloom vegetables year round on Shadow Mountain. To have mah Dog Shadow with me in the Greenhouse.

I also plan to write and think about the sacred, the one, the wholeness of which we are part and in which we live, die, love. I will not cheapen my life with bitterness, rather I will eat salads, read, play with Shadow and dine with friends, talk to my friends and family near and far.

Veronica. Shadow. Spine Treatments. Oh, my.

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Lao Xi. Dao De Jing. Wu wei. Alchemy. The Sage. Pu, pure simplicity. Ziran. Authenticity. Just so-ness. Lao Tse’s journey to the West. On an Ox. Stopped at the Hangu Pass to write his wisdom. The Tao. The Way. Or, the Ancientrail of Chi. Other wisdom ways. That Iroquois medicine man. The Sun dance. Christianity. Especially Eastern Orthodoxy. Mystics of all cultures.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lifting the veil and seeing the ordinary as sacred reality

Week Kavannah: Joy. Simcha.

One brief shining: We sat there, the two converts who shared a mikveh day, who received new names on the same day, who did Bat Mitzvah and Bar Mitzvah at the same Shavuot service, both a bit cold as a Mountain Evening’s chill settled on Murphy’s, an eatery beside Bear Creek in Evergreen, and caught up about her impending divorce, her brother’s death, her father’s injury, my back and cancer and Shadow my new puppy, upon leaving I said Jews together, she said it back, and we hugged, then just before I got to my car she turned, came to me, and we hugged again. Veronica. Harmonica. Hanukkah.

 

Dog journal: Shadow’s back to training with me now. Except for the leash. She runs when she sees it. Gotta get her leash trained. I want to take her with me places. To the vet. To a groomer. As the weather warms, she’s blowing her coat. To mussar to meet my friends, see the synagogue. Over to the Happy Camper. On grocery pickups. Wandering around. Maybe a hike if the injections work.

Shadow loves her toys. I bought her a miniature tire and she hasn’t played with anything else for a couple of days. Her playfulness makes me smile.

 

What injections you might ask. On April 22nd at 11:00 am, I’ll have needles inserted into four foramens on my lumbar spine. Steroids. Could take two weeks to start working. Typically lasts less than three months if it works at all. Partial relief at best since it will not treat the arthropathy, arthritic damage. A more modest first step. Plus, only ten minutes or so, requiring no anesthesia.

After this there are two other possible procedures: radio frequency ablation of the nerves, and peripheral nerve stimulation. Both are more involved, yet offer the potential for longer term relief. One set of needles at a time.

 

Just a moment: Veronica worked on the GOES satellites, vehicles in her parlance, and now manages Lockheed’s planning and development for the next generation weather satellites. As Trump defunds NOAA, he wants to privatize weather data, leave it to a corporate entity yet unborn. If he succeeds, Veronica may not have work. Who do you know directly affected by the blob that ate our government?

Judge scolds the Justice Department for ignoring her rulings? Scolds. Oh, we are well and truly screwed.

Anticipatory obedience. Check. Congress at heel. Check. Judiciary sidelined. Check. Government as we have known it gutted. Check. Our economy in a tailspin. Check.

Let me know when it’s over.

 

 

Mormons

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Amy. Ritalin. Gabe and the Water Grill. Aspen Perks. Conoco. Sinclair. Ruby. 4.20. Shadow, fair warning. Sleeping hard. The tiger. Still squeaking. Not for long. Dr. Shadow at work. Mark and his students. Mary and the Monkeys. My son and his wife, anniversary #9 tomorrow. Ruth in her last month of her freshmen year. Taking out the trash. Wish someone would do it on Pennsylvania Ave. Looking like NYC in the 80’s.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark Twain, The Diaries of Adam and Eve

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Those Mormon missionaries came by and we talked at my breakfast table, their earnest smiling faces, their convinced sincerity, their modest honesty, and my heart ached for their young minds already captured and tied like a Calf in a Utah rodeo.

 

chatgpt in the style of Giotto

They came inside. I was curious about them. Wanted to know a bit more. So I asked. They pay $400 a month into a pot for all those out on mission. Then they get funds from the mothership for lodging and food, transportation. Elijah’s parents paid. The other, younger looking guy, said he paid his own way.

They go out for two years. Seems like a long time to me. Elijah was from Irvine, California. The other from Utah. They’re living in a cabin in Aspen Park.

Elijah had the extroverts ease. He loved my house, my art. The other guy, quiet, had an air of slight menace about him, the menace of the true believer, ready to throw down if disrespected. Fair enough. He did though answer this to my question about why they believed, “I suppose because I was raised in it.”

an interesting chatgpt take on the Mormon Tabernacle

The book of Mormon settles disputed territory (as understood by Mormons) in the restored church of the LDS, latter day saints. Baptism is a for instance.

At age 8 you become accountable. That’s when you can sin and it’s the earliest you can be baptized. Roman Catholics believe you can baptize by sprinkling an infant; Baptists believe in full immersion. The Book of Mormon endorses full immersion thereby resolving the issue.

There was a moment of weird crossover with the New Apostolic Reformation. Remember them? Mormons have had 12 apostles and one prophet since the time of Joseph Smith. When an apostle or prophet dies, the remaining men (yes, men) choose their successor.

This is significant since only the apostles and the prophet can receive revelations for the whole church. Individuals can, and do, receive revelation for their own lives, but only the top dogs can speak to the whole.

An interesting half hour. I admired their commitment and their persistence. Told them that. But, I also said, not for me.

 

Just a moment: Tariffic Trump. A beautiful plan he says. From a not so beautiful mind, a downright immoral narcissist. Reminds me a bit of the quieter one of the Mormon missionaries. The menace of the true believer.

I know. If you agree, I like you. If you don’t, I not only don’t like you, but I’ll punish you.

It’s International Beaver Day!

Spring? and the Wu Wei Moon

Monday gratefuls: Glaucoma. Dr. Repine. Eye exam. Brother Mark in Al Kharj. His Yemeni students. A big rain gonna fall, in Indiana. National Beaver Day. Shadow. The desqueaked toys. The Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Goya’s Dr. Arrieta. The Doryphoros. The Jade Mountain. Song Dynasty ceramics. Art.

Sparks of Joy and Art: Painting and sculpture

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Bought a cane, made by the Asterom family woodworkers of Ukraine; it came wrapped carefully in two parts with a nicely designed ring to cover the join between grip and the cane body where I twirled the long screw around and around until the grip fit snugly.

 

As you undoubtedly already know, it’s International Beaver Day. I had chatgpt make this special poster. Shadow, who continues to manifest her inner Beaver, celebrated by throwing her toys in the air, running around the back, and chewing extra hard on her new bone. Oh, what a day!

She continues to ignore me as her trainer. Sigh. As I said, I want her leash trained, the rest can come later after she matures a bit.

She’s bugging me right now for breakfast. Excuse me while I step away.

 

Cousin Diane sent pictures of flooding in Shelby County Indiana where my mom’s family lived and lives. Dramatic.

She also sent some video of Madison, Indiana where a driver recorded themselves driving under a gushing waterfall cascading over the highway. The driver kept saying to their passenger, “This is dangerous.”, while continuing to drive on through. Ah, Indiana.

Meanwhile on the Mountain top we’re in a warming trend. Though you never know about Snow there’s none in the forecast for the next few days. About time to see some Wildflowers, green Grass. Happy ungulates. Bears pushing the sleep out of their eyes.

I’ve already stopped throwing my garbage in the rolling bin outside, instead I now wait for every other Wednesday morning and throw it in then. Reduces by a lot possible Bear raiding. That’s a sign of a Mountain Spring.

 

Glaucoma check today. Visual field test. Eye drops. Dr. Repine and her crystal peering into my retinal nerve. A good news story for Western medicine. My glaucoma has been held at bay for over thirty years.

 

Just a moment: It’s a beautiful plan he says as stock markets all across the globe tumble down. Tariffs confuse me. But I know what economic chauvinism looks like and this is it.

On the new series Mobland on Paramount Plus. Pierce Brosnan, the head of a British crime family says, “What we want we take.” He goes on, “And if you disrespect us, I’ve got a man for that.” You can think of Tom Hardy, his enforcer, as the U.S. military.

Let the wild rumpus begin.

 

 

 

A Chucky Doll Come to Life

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow the toy destroyer. Talmud Torah. Duke loses. Snow, enough to plow. 6″. Lodgepole Branches loaded with their white, late Snow burden. The joy of Puppies. CBE men’s group. Gaza. Ukraine. Israel.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fresh Snow

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: When early morning light breaks through the spaces left by numerous Lodgepole Branches, when the air temperature hovers at 15, when Vince has plowed the driveway, I know the Mountain Winter has once again pushed its way into the Mountain Spring, well into it.

 

A few of Shadow’s patients

Dog journal: I love my Shadow girl. She throws her toys high in the air. Prances with them, tail high. Then carefully and with toothy precision she performs another squeakectomy. Ripping and holding she reaches inside to find the air bladder, removes it.

I’m always in the observing room for these operations. I remove the plastic air bladder and throw it away before she can swallow it. She has one almost out right now. Soon.

 

Staying home more often. Since Shadow. It began with general fatigue from lack of sleep and keeping up with her needs during the day. Then, it was easier to zoom in to mussar, Torah study, use telehealth. Getting my evening meals delivered through CookUnity. The back pain played its role, too.

I have books, food, my home gym, television. Shadow’s companionship. I see many people during the week on zoom. Hardly isolated or lonely.

Even so I want to challenge staying home too much. Continue to live IRL. I need interaction with flesh and blood people. I’m already limited by rarely driving at night.

Gotta get back to Thursday mussar. Go in to the Bagel Table. Continue with breakfasts and lunches out. I admire Diane who has an active life singing in a choir, regular yoga, monthly bookclub, and close friends of many years.

Though. It may also be that I’m slowing down. Living a quieter life. If it turns out to be that, well, I’m ok with that, too.

 

Just a moment: Every time I see Trump with the Huey Newton raised fist I throw up in my mouth. This guy is a caricature, a satirical Chucky Doll of a politician come to life. He has stolen the fist of solidarity (appropriated) from the 1960’s and uses it to signal the triumph of some other part of his dastardly plot.

While Musk may have morphed into a real life Bond villain, Trump has become Snidely Whiplash. A cartoon villain without a Dudley Do Right to rein him in.

Love the British poster, done with high production values, that at first glance looks like a Tesla ad. It reads:  An autopilot for your car. And, below that. An Autocrat for your country.

Kakocracy. Kleptocracy. Oligarchy. Autocracy. All in one. See the amazing government that eats itself! You’ll be astounded. And, broke. Or deported.

Let’s pause a moment. And pray.

 

Shadow. A Blue win!

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shadow. Whimpering. The only sound she makes. Ginny. Janice. Annie. Luna. Luke. Leo. MVP. Tonight. Hair cut. Jackie and Rhonda. Living with the body as it is. Susan Crawford. The Democrats of Wisconsin. Seed-Keepers all. Elon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Early darkness

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Amy clipped on the leash, allowed Shadow to guide her outside, I cheered as we came closer, step by step, to Shadow in the car with me.

 

Dog journal: The beaver has begun sawing on my bed. She won’t get far. It’s an IKEA. Sturdy. Nothing special until now. Shadow marked for all its time.

This morning I looked up from my pillow and Shadow stood between the bed frame and the wall. Good morning, I said. Soon she whimpered. At 5 am. Well, ok. Probably needs to go out. Nope. Just wanted to play.

Her morning energy level. A force of nature. Standing on her hind legs, reaching for my shoulders. Burrowing in between my legs. Nipping. Soft mouth, Shadow.

Amy came yesterday. Tall, gentle Amy. Got Shadow on the leash. We learned a new game, back and forth. I drop a treat, call her name, let her get the treat, then run a few steps away and do the same. After 5-10 times, end with touch, outstretched hand.

Amy is a good business woman. Her 45 minute sessions are 45 minutes. She works Shadow the whole time. And me. She summarizes the day’s work and e-mails it to me. Her payment system works and she sends out regular notifications of upcoming sessions.

 

Organ recital: Leaning toward giving the nerve ablation a shot. If I could get five to six months of relief… Still, needles. Spine. Back.

Gonna give p.t. a thorough shot first. If my referral can ever make it from Mountain View Pain to Luna home health care. Something not right somewhere. Too many phone calls. Sigh.

Wondering what the back pain tells me. Besides the obvious. A Jungian question. Nature’s way of telling me to slow down, take the watercourse way? Or is it a lesson in humility? You are now old. Perhaps focus on matters close to home? Ready myself for the future, whatever it holds?

 

Just a moment: Susan Crawford for the win in Wisconsin! So glad Wisconsin brushed off the crude and cynical exploits of Elon, the Cheesehead. He managed a patronizing, condescending, billionaire it’s all about the money campaign and lost big time.

A booster shot in the old blue arm for sure. Perhaps we liberals (well, ok. I’m a radical, but for the sake of unity.) can now remember that neither Harris nor Trump got 50% of the vote. Harris=48.3%. Trump= 49.8%. We are many, too. Even though it may not feel like it in the hazy, crazy times of the orange ones first hundred days.

Susan Crawford. Seed-keeper. Reminding us that a 2026 victory garden can grow from ideas and campaign tactics known already.

Do we need more focus on working class Americans? Oh, yes. We do. Does that mean we abandon progressive ideas in other areas? No.

Pain Doc and Chauvinist Economics

Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Monday gratefuls: Shadow and her aggressive chewer toys. Perfect. Going in and coming out, less of an issue. Her spirit. Sitting at the Wicked Whisk with Ruth and Gabe. Talking. The spirit of Sound. And the spirit within us. Resonant. Days gone by. My son’s generous spirit. Korea. Murdoch. Luke and Leo coming up today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: In the empty bakery, sold out early of its French pastries, eating the last of the scones, the shortbread almond cookies, and drinking espressos from paper cups, Ruth and Gabe and I talked of parents who died too soon, the excitement of international travel, reincarnation, and the Reformation, as families will on a late Sunday morning when they’re Jewish.

 

Seeing the pain doc today. MRI results. Home P.T. referral. Not too hopeful, but looking for any help I can get. That’s not addictive or surgical. A short list.

Need it even more. The pain has moved across my lower back and now includes my left hip and upper leg. Hope none of it is cancer pain. I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.

Will get a copy of the radiologist’s report. Look for those incidental findings.

 

Luke and Leo coming up this afternoon. Luke will help get my Dell desktop setup. Leo and Shadow can have the backyard, get to know each other.

Once my new desktop functions I plan to introduce Shadow to the stairs. So far she has not learned to go up them and that has confined her to my lower living space. And pretty much me along with her.

I’m a bit reluctant to do it since there’s a whole new world of things to chew upstairs. She’s been really good about the furniture down here. Except for my nightstand. It was not well made.

If she has toys, she prefers them. Most of the time. Like a toddler she embraces distraction. I can put a new toy in front of her and she’ll choose (chews) that over a chair leg.

Right now she has a yellow duck in her mouth, squeaking. Every once in a while, duck held tight, she’ll look up and smile. Warms me.

 

Just a moment: Oh, spare me. Already. Third term floating out there. Can you run the country from a memory unit no matter how high end? Vance runs, then gives the scepter to the Boss. What will there be left to eviscerate?

Do you understand how tariffs raise money for us? Cars will get more expensive. Other goods, too. Inflation will rise. A possible recession. Of which Trump is not afraid. No doubt. All billionaires can continue making money even during a recession. A recession damages labor and those lower on the economic totem pole, i.e., the rest of us.

Reagan practiced supply side, or voodoo economics. Trump practices chauvinist economics and ignores their impact on anything but what his narrow America First agenda prioritizes. Yikes.

Sounds like a planned economy to me. Eh?