Driving to Pennsylvania on Cyber Monday, I saw a USPS truck tailgating a UPS truck. I expected a joke to pop into my mind. It didn’t

I read the Bible fairly often. I have read much Shakespeare and have seen many performances of his plays. Yet, to my deep regret, I can quote from memory little of the Bible or Shakespeare.

“Which proved to me yet again that traveling in the hinterland of the United States now and then resembled traveling in the wider world, listening to pious and irrational simplicities from credulous folks.” Paul Theroux, Deep South.

Am I the only one who thinks that if John Denver had lived longer he would have ended up looking something like Jeff Sessions?

I came out of the magic show and saw that a goodly portion of the audience had congregated outside the entrance. Some were listening to what others stated. Some of the speakers were pontificating with certitude while others spoke more tentatively, but all were giving versions of how the illusions had been done. I just walked away. I have read books and watched shows about magicians and how certain illusions are created, but I go to a magic show to be amazed and astounded, and I want those feelings to last further than the exit door. If I have the desire to try to figure out the secrets of the illusions, I can wait at least twenty-four hours.

I just learned that Norman Rockwell, the famous illustrator of American home life, and his first wife practiced free love. Perhaps you already knew that. If not, would you now look at his illustrations any differently?

After the recent Texas mass shooting of the churchgoers (sad that we can’t just refer to recent mass shooting but need to be more specific), those who oppose gun control trumpet the fact that the armed services did not report the shooter’s conviction and mental health issues, stuff that would have prevented him from buying guns. “We need to enforce our laws, not more laws” is the refrain. But doesn’t this position concede that gun control can work?

What should I do? The man with a prosthesis in a TV ad says, “I gave my leg for your freedom.” I want to support him, but I have doubts about his statement.

From past Thanksgivings, I had just thought he was boring, but the conversationally-challenged, retired detective became different when I asked him if there were any of his cases that still haunted him. He began to talk about a twenty-five-year-old murder of a marine. He had found the cold-case file almost a decade afterwards, concluded that the investigation had been shoddy, and started his own investigation. As a result, he said he knew who had orchestrated the killing (the wife) and who had been the main trigger man (the wife’s brother), but after efforts over several years, he could not prove it. As he talked over the turkey and cranberries, he went on and on, dredging up more and more details that a non-obsessed person would long ago forgotten. We may all have things that haunt us, but few are as haunted as he is.


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