I'm a man - Well, nobody's perfect
Periodic musings from
somewhere near the heartland
Textures of winter. Sun today, snow soon. Corduroys arguably do make life a lot like going to the office in your pyjamas.
@ropeandcoffee, ask and ye shall receive. Though getting my face and the watch in one shot was no mean feat. Oh, and we’re doing the post-holiday beard thing again. At least temporarily.
Given the current state of the nation, I appreciated the red-white-and-blueness of this.
That hair, tho. Apparently, my JFK Jr. phase.
Required annual fizz content. Peace and love to you all, wherever you may be.
I stood in my in-laws driveway until I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. Listened to some music. Reveled in the majesty of the universe. Tried to capture something special. A perfect use of a Christmas night.
There were a bunch of things I was going to say in this post, about the sanitization of Tumblr, and the state of our world, and life in general. But as we’re headed out the door to Christmas Eve with my parents, the affairs of the world will keep. I miss you guys, and send you every holiday wish. Tonight, that’s plenty.
Apparently, if you turn 50, people just keep feeding you cake. So there’s that.
Autumn in the Bluegrass.
This was Saturday.
Before it’s bedtime here in the east, I wanted to share these few remembrances of a summer day in Washington a while back.
Between Mrs. JBF and I, we are down to our last WWII combat veteran, 91 years strong but fading, having served in the Navy in the Pacific theater of operations. Then it passes through Viet Nam via our adopted family, and on to my cousin who was mustered out of her career in the Navy after the 1991 Gulf War because of whatever was in the air. The Navy helped her get her life in order; leaving has not been a good thing.
Even if no one you love is buried in Arlington, it is an amazing and humbling place. I was glad to be able to take 13 there, to let her look and feel things, to stand at a respectful distance from families there to pay their respects, and to participate in the steely quiet at the Tomb of the Unknowns. Strive for peace, respect the warriors, never forget.
Time flies. 13 is now 16. And our last vet of that generation has gone to his rest. But this still matters.
Most of the march on for finals retreat at BOA grand nats. A good time was had by all, even if the wrong band won.
This. Not looking for sympathy, just airing some thoughts.
One of my partner’s wives was re-elected to a family court judgeship last night. And as the 10 year old Pappy was uncorked, I couldn’t help but think of Tip O’Neill’s timeworn comment about how all politics is local. If we can start by helping families in one place in America, that isn’t everything but it’s certainly something. This morning, I am thankful to no longer be living in one of the most hotly contested congressional districts in the country. And the whiskey was damn good. Now we move forward.
What I saw on my day in the world.