Wayward Landlubber

Everyone in this room has some memory of the post WWII period. We saw the war photo's and newsreel footage of the desperate people fleeing the homes they grew up in. Abandoning their friends and relatives, that some might possibly live to carry on the family name. We saw the movies and television shows that re-enacted the horrors of that war, and we saw the movies and television shows that mocked the Nazi soldiers. Many of those people seeking refuge found a pleasant place in this country, and others. They became the leaders who are turning their civic efforts over to this newer generation. They were the writers and humorists that helped us forget the events that we fought to escape. It's not as if the horrible humans that live in every nations underground networks did not exist. But the people we elected were, generally, a better quality of human. Even at one time, Republicans. The racists and fascists might attain a mayorship in certain areas of our country, or a Governorship...

Micheala Schiffren has the Yips. I can only wonder about how that feels. I have never achieved that level of pretty-goodness to have ever experienced the yips. But it must be a thing because I read a book one time about a pitcher in baseball who suffered from the Yips. It seems to be common to sports,  where the player is under the strong gaze of the fans. Pitchers, mostly. Football players don't seem to suffer from the yips. Skiers, ice skaters, boxers, MMA, maybe even Crickett, though nobody seems to know how it's played; is it the bowler or the bowlsman? Or the batsman and Robin? I don't know, most people have fallen asleep before the match is completed. Do the yips have legs? Is stage-fright the yips? Writers Block? Do ballet dancers get the yips? Imagine the male member of the duo with a big catch in the program. Knowing that in a few measures of the musical score he's going to catch the ballerina as she leaps in some pas de du, or whatever it is, into the outstret...

I used to work with a conservative, back before maga, when Donald Trump was a mere celebrity, not celebrated by me. His name was Scott. I was not a BFF with Scott. Besides being a conservative who could define the word, Scott smoked cigarettes at a time when non-smokers rights were not honored. We shared a couple drinks one time and he told me that he had been a member of the Weather Underground back in the 60s. The Weather underground was the extreme version of the weathermen. He was in love with Ronald Reagan when I new him. That's pulling some neck-snapping G forces. Like a black, hispanic, or female on ICE. It was our good fortune that neither of us worked closely together, me having a difficult time keeping my mouth shut. I have not seen Scott for some 40 years, so I can't say if he is now maga.  I was not inactive during the 1970s. I had the good fortune to be declared physically unfit for military service, thanks to a booklet given out at anti-war rally's with the ti...