On the other hand, if things get much worse… I may lack the land to go wholly self-sustaining, but I’m a helluva hippie scratch cook, I can sew and crochet. My husband is a DIY engineer of sterling reputation. And I remember the commune days well. Can we come along?

“If voting (or electing someone…) changed anything they would make it illegal.” E. Goldman.

This is right in there with the whole Glen Beck/Sarra Pain( in the ass) crap. Politics of fear, play to the lowest common denominator, hype.

What I have learned from the big O is that the system doesn’t work. It’s built to support the status quo and that is rocketing us toward extinction at an alarming rate.

Count me out of the next political cycle.

You can’t change the course of the runaway train as a passenger. I’m officially getting off the train and going my own way.

Coming ,Jack?

Ask me how I really feel about her. I identify with your dark side all the way.

As opposed to my earlier post, your comment is the definition of ‘bittersweet’. You see the train coming down the track that your stepson is standing on. He is blissfully ignorant. For the moment.

The military was a good career for my dad, and growing up here and there (from WA to AK) was a broadening experience for this Southern boy of the fifties.

May your stepson be so lucky.

And I can only assume that safely sequestering the Droid is the best possible outcome….

My 18 year old stepson was visiting with his family this past weekend. At dinner, in between wolfing bites of barbecued chicken pizza, he was texting away on his graduation present. He finally looked up to take a photo of his pizza. I’d be more pissed about his behavior if I didn’t know that, as soon as he gets back home to San Diego, he’s got a date with his recruiter.

Do they take your Raptor Android away from you at boot camp?

I fear that the popularity of ’smart’ phones will fill our streets (and our classrooms) with socially ‘dumb’ people. Sad.

As the self-designated cleaner of all the fish, yes you were.

At one point on Saturday night, I was cleaning as quickly as I could manage but the light was fading fast. The supplementary single bulb on the dock was cutting on and off, making filleting more of a guessing game than I liked. Not unexpectedly, the mosquitoes descended en masse, but I didn’t want to use repellent since I was preparing food. At one point, I killed four with one slimy slap. Oh yeah, I was as gracious and serene throughout….as a five year-old on a sugar jag.