A confession: we still haven’t actually unpacked from our move. The process is not simple since our new residence is smaller and more oddly shaped than our old one (much like me).  Much furniture and box moving back and forth for the latest iteration of room arrangement, in the manner of that old logic puzzle of the farmer, the fox, the goose, and the grain. I am feeling every day of my age at the moment. And Wonder Dog still looks at us like she’s been betrayed, despite having a new barking target, that giant roadrunner who lives in our yard. I’ve seen roadrunners before, but this one is massive, the Warty of the bird kingdom.

Birthdays…. let’s just say that every libertarian should be celebrating today as a holiday. But still, there are others: a pretty cooley guy who merely invented bits and software as words when he was done revolutionizing mathematics; the guy who gave Sheldon Richman a reason for living; the biographer of Al Gore; and a fine mess.

And now the news.

 

I’m shocked, SHOCKED that our fine men in blue could possibly lie to cover up for their brutality. I mean, this is a Team Blue city.

 

I have an alibi. Not sure about Heroic Mulatto.

 

Taking a stab at social media. That’s gold, man!

 

This put me in the mood for Del Taco. 

 

So much missing from this story.

 

“We have the best crashes. Only the best crashes! The classiest crashes!’

 

Never change, NPR, never change.

 

Someone badly, badly needs punching. And it’s going to happen if there’s any justice in this world.

 

 

Although my Old Guy Music has a definite indy folk, classic prog rock, and bop jazz slant, I do get my funk fix now and then. And from one of my favorite funk bands, here is a perfect period piece.