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Everything Changes

  Everything Changes Every morning in between chores, pet care, before I write, before I train—I read. I read standing up usually. Sometimes I get lost in reading an article and our pets will remind me as I’ll hear them racing around the living room and dining room. They’re waiting for the hay box I hold in my hand whilst I read an article on either nature, A.I., stocks, crime, medicine and politics. I’ll read at least three full articles within the first hour I’m awake.   Then others I peruse quickly and tag articles for later if I think its something of quality to read. Since I read from a variety of sources, I’ll jump around from one article to another source and perhaps another to see a different view—even if its not a source I feel is much on point. In doing this, I’ll have a broader view and with that my news feed will change and I’ll pick up on the new news of the day that might bring me back in time. Sometimes to only a handful of years ago. I’ll see the headline roll throu
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“Turn Around, Look At Me…” My Fight for Roe V. Wade to be reinstated.

“Turn Around, Look At Me…” My Fight for Roe V. Wade to be reinstated. Anyone knows the essence of the 1960s would remember this song. The time piece by the Vogues that floated through my head tonight as I heard this long-forgotten song—along with feelings that have left us over fifty years ago. This song and others of the 1960s played on our home radio when I was a kid. Then the cool transistor radio, hand-held by my older brother played them as well. We had a huge batch of 45’s and played them on an inclement weathered Saturday afternoon, when no friends were available to play with. We would listen to each 45 single and play Chinese checkers, crazy 8s, other card games and scrabble. Sometimes if it were warm enough, my older brother and I would play in our screened-in back room of our barn-house—unless it was a wind-whipped rain. Then it would be less convenient. As life is quite different now. Back then, our country wrestled with the ongoing Vietnam War. Most of us wanted to fo

A Better Future

  As I sit here typing on my computer nearly twenty-four hours after seeing someone before their resting place. I ponder many things. All morning thoughts of what our society thinks. We have had opinions about age, familiarity, and social structures. I began to realized a few things. First, I noticed that I feel more comfortable around people ten or more years my junior. Secondly, I noted that the people I know that are fifteen to thirty years younger than me, most are not married. Most do not have children. What makes this odd is that, the ages of these people I speak of are ages thirty to forty-five years old. In my day, it seemed majority of that age range were married and or, were raising children or at least had children. I do not find this to be disturbing, quite to the contrary. I marvel at it. I’ve always wondered, ‘when were people going to realize maybe we needed to slow the population down’? Instead of seeing what I saw thirty or more years ago where everyone was thought

3rd And 4____Still Loving the NFL

  3 rd And 4—Still Loving the NFL I’ve been watching Professional American Football games since the end of 1966. No, not with my dad. But I started watching those games with my older brother. Why? Because it was Wicked Man! Like Cool! And only the cool people knew just how cool it was. If you couldn’t sit there and watch a bunch of guys go head-to-head for your entertainment; then who were you anyway? So, we’d thought. My mother was a ‘real’ girl. She wanted nothing to do with such violence. My dad barely watched NFL games. And for some reason he’d preferred watching Professional Ice Hockey games. I’ll say it was to see an unscheduled fight break out. Because he thought that was how ‘real men’ acted.   You didn’t take a shove on the chin. A real man let it bother him and subsequently took care of business by retaliating with brute force. So, it seemed his thinking. My brother and I loved the NFL games. We’d watch them, then we would apply the plays we witnessed to our unorganize

Death in the Distant Future...

  Death in the Distant Future… Or at least that is what its supposed to be. We don’t suppose people should die at a certain age. We will witness suffering; but we know it gets better. So, we’ve been told. Or so, we have hope that it will. There are instances of mass tragedy. Sometimes we call that war—maybe insanity—perhaps terrorism… We have names for it, that type of death. Then there are the terminals. Things we think we can control—once we know the enemy within.   Or things we follow, pray for, aim for. We hold hands for it. Or we choose to suffer with the suffering because it matters. And it doesn’t matter how it matters. Then there is some form of Universal Order. A tainted weird line of fate. Perhaps mathematically calculated in everyone’s existence. No matter how great, how menial a life on earth may appear there’s a geometric wave—a pattern. We can involve other mathematical ideologies—Fibonacci, perhaps. And each of our lives are formulas. Formulas appearing misundersto

"Life is a Negotiation."

  “Life is a Negotiation.”---Chris Voss, former FBI negotiator, CEO of the Black Swan Group, Ltd. I laid in bed this morning, staring at the ceiling. And wondered if there was something special about yesterday that I couldn’t get to sleep till nearly two in the morning. Hours later, I got a bit of an answer. Yes, it was about marriage. Well, not really. It was about decisions. I reminisced on how last night marked three years ago was about the same time I’d dreamt that we’d have a complete shutdown from a pandemic. That day, I awoke in a heavy, cold sweat mid-January 2020 on a Wednesday afternoon after two house clients had cancelled. I’d come home said ‘hi’ to hubby then went upstairs and collapsed onto our bed at 11:03 am. It was after I’d already tended to a few other ill and pained clients. I was relieved and I was exhausted. I knew what was about to happen. I’d dreamt years before about all sorts of catastrophes and well, they happened. If the dream is clear it usually happens

What Happens in Social Media...

  What happens in social media… Stays in social media. Social media is not exactly Las Vegas. I mean it could be. Perhaps some of us wish it were. And then we could walk around after doing, saying or implying something controversial or ridiculous in an open forum on social media. And maybe, no one would have any knowledge of our relationship to whatever appeared typed by us, liked by us, videoed of us. Or anything else that could get us fired, divorced, broken-up, shunned or anything other to the converse of the aforementioned verbs. However, to a larger degree truth being, if our partners, friends, bosses—ehh hmmm, future bosses are watching those social media platforms we’re in for it. We may not get that dynamo job we’ve always wanted. Little Suzie there in accounting who stays in her corner, eats her greens, whilst her mother cuts off the crust of her egg salad sandwiches for her lunch every morning—is in for a surprise. As Suzie, cubiclized sits at her desk. Still worrying if