I dreamed last night that I was picking out flautas to fill a giant to-go container in Guadalajara. I stopped at 2.5 kilos (5.5 lbs) when other customers started grumbling about the gringo buying all the place had.
I ended up walking through a gift shop while munching on them looking for Brian and complaining, “why did I buy all these flautas if he’s not going to help me eat them, and I forgot the 2L Pepsi.”
Then I woke up in Greensboro disoriented. It made no sense in a lovely way.
I remember seeing a letter in the local newspaper when I was a teenager (age 15 ~ 1974). A distant “career/professional” couple was considering a move and wanted people to write and convince them to move to Greensboro. I took out a sheet of paper and wrote the following: “If this is the way you choose a place to live, please move somewhere else.”
I must have been auditioning for net forums before the net was around.
For a number of years, my mother insisted that we go to Catholic mass at OLG (Our Lady of Grace) on Christmas Eve to honor my brother who was in the process of becoming Catholic when he died. I would not choose to go to a mass on my own, but it helped my non-Catholic mother to process, I thought it was an OK way to honor my brother and the wishes of my mother, and I can get through a mass OK even though that religion is not my thing.
There are many things that would prevent me from ever being Catholic, but I take comfort in that at OLG, they took real good care of my brother, and they knew the whole nine yards about him, the whole kit and caboodle.
To me, “not my thing” doesn’t mean it’s not valid. I can respect.
This is my holiday homily. I rarely do them. I usually just yuck it up.
My lounging around the house shirt.
A most unusual holiday card arrived in the mail today. I don’t yet understand the riddle, but I know who it is from.
Posted in rambling
It was hard to let go of Mother Jones since I was an almost continuous reader of it since the 70’s. I let it go in the lead-up to the 2016 election. To me, it had become a dishonest clickbait machine.
I let Democracy Now! go earlier this year due to my perception that there is significant agenda to it.
Both can still have a decent moment, but neither gets my serious attention anymore. Gathering information these days is mighty tricky, but there is still some quality out there.
“the urge to post about their lives online”
I like this. To me, this is what it’s about. Documenting my mundane life and reading the same about others. Vain, stupid, glorious, whatever. I appreciate when people take the time to write a little something about themselves. Whether it’s Facebook or a personal website, as long as people are creating original content, I am interested. The downside is that Facebook and Twitter encourage frenetic retweeting (reposting) that is low value to me, though it’s part of the cost of using those platforms that many of us are willing to pay to hang with friends. For all its faults, WordPress has a great number of users that are documenting their thinking and lives, and they are often alone with it. It’s one of the places I like to dive deep.
I mostly don’t care if anybody reads my things, and some of the places I post, probably nobody does. Just the process of writing up something on a regular basis is often stabilizing and therapeutic to me.
Story link: We Should Replace Facebook With Personal Websites – Motherboard
Posted in rambling
Midge, named by her first human companion, was a very good girl. Her first human was going into long-term care, so my mother was asked to care for Midge. My mother then asked me to care for her. She lived to a very old age. The vet called her “the world’s oldest living Chihuahua”. She outlived enough humans to where we didn’t know how old she was. Pic from 2003.
Small Dog Club posthumous honorary member.
I have sometimes hoped that someone would criticize my fluff posting with something like, “Don’t you ever work on the issues?” Then I could counter with, “The fluff posting might be a cover.”
Yes, the fluff is a cover, or this post might be a cover of cover.