The article on cocktail mixers said that “he is an expert in tiki bars.” It did not report who his mentor was, where he trained, or whether he had had a fellowship from a famous foundation.
I see Sidney Powell on TV in Georgia and other places claiming that Trump was robbed by a fraudulent election. She, however, is not part of the Trump defense team according to the news. And I wonder who is paying her expenses.
The news article headline said: “Share your harvest photos.” The two accompanying pictures were of boys with dead bucks, their first kills. I wondered if a hunter ever says, “Honey, I am off to the woods to harvest a deer.”
A generational difference: Learning that the proper method is to squeeze and roll the toothpaste tube from the bottom.
“I consider myself an average man except for the fact that I consider myself an average man.” Michel Eyquem de Montaigne.
News sources report that Rudy Giuliani has been seeking a presidential pardon. In the distant past, Giuliani was known as a corruption fighter. I wonder if he remembers what he said then: “And this corruption will be discovered and prosecuted. The political establishment does not understand that law enforcement has changed.”
“Che had what you might argue was the good fortune of being martyred when he was still young.” Patrick Radden Keefe, Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland.
I snap on the TV in foreign hotel rooms, mostly to see if it carries an English-language news station, but I also like looking for a few minutes at the other shows even when I don’t understand the language. On my last trip, oh so long ago, I was feeling a bit queasy and tired one morning and stayed in. Mostly I slept, but I watched a bit of TV. I could get mostly Moroccan, Arabic, or European channels. On a sports channel, I watched a few minutes of snooker from Northern Ireland. I don’t understand snooker, and I was not helped by the commentary, which was in German. On another channel, I watched women’s international rugby. On another station, for several minutes, I watched a cat playing with a dead mouse. There was no sound. It was amusing, but questions abounded.
On a trip on I-95 with the spouse years ago, we stopped in a barbecue place in North Carolina. We went to get takeout. Everyone else in line was black, and a number of them looked at us quizzically. Later I learned that this was a remnant of the Jim Crow era when blacks could not eat in the restaurant, but they could go to the kitchen’s back door and get takeout. I also learned that I do not like the vinegar-based bbq of Carolina.