This time of year the moon swings over the top of our building instead of over the Bay in front of us, so from 7H we can’t see the trifecta, an interesting use of a word that applies to betting on a horserace. If we miss it, there’ll be another in December 2028.  Obvious to me, instead of “exercise, exercise” the State of Hawaii needs to adopt standard Navy language that is clear and unmistakable, “Now, this is a drill, this is a drill,” it don’t git no plainer’n nat. The goofus who pushed the "incoming" button this time has made the same mistake several times before. He has been fired, as someone famously said, “Well, duh.” Not commenting on political matters this morning except to say that nobody has unified me yet, I’m as divisive and divided as ever. Gimme a break, gimme an alphabet break. Touching my heart this morning, and for sure the heart of God - - wrestling competition at Arnold High School: “I’m gonna let him pin me.” Will you seek and serve Chris...

Mornings, not Sundays, I have a cup of hot black coffee and a square of dark chocolate and then go out and walk. As I say, not Sundays, but other days. Monday and Friday, Robert and I meet, park on Linda Avenue beside the Holy Pavilion, and choose one direction or another for our walk in the Cove where we both grew up. Our starting point is Holy Ground to us, has been for a lifetime, Cove School, hearts & minds fully invested.  Other mornings, my walk depends on the weather. Fine, I run down the stairwell, out at Level 2, and walk round the green here at Harbour Village whatever number of times I want to, it’s roughly a quarter mile each time around; elevator back to Level 6, walk down the sidewalk to the stairwell, and run back up to Level 7. Weather’s rainy, or cold and windy like this morning, I take the elevator down to Level 1 underground garage, walk around that however many times, elevate back up to Level 7. There’s a fully equipped exercise room, gym, in the ga...

Oh my. I can’t believe this. Dr. Lu is dead. Linda told me last night, saw it on television, said he died of the flu, Frank Lu, oncologist and hematologist, died Friday. In my long years, I’ve never known a nicer, kinder, more caring physician. Maybe Dr. Powell Adams a lifetime ago, December 1947, I was twelve years old, who came to the house late on a Sunday afternoon, diagnosed me with appendicitis, lifted me out of bed, carried me out to his car (not to be small or distracting, but a gray 1947 Chevrolet Fleetmaster club coupe), drove me to hospital, and carried me inside, and the next day operated on me.  I saw Dr. Frank Lu just once, over a year ago, on a referral about a blood issue, and he treated me like a lifelong friend, a family member. It passed right by me when his receptionist said, “He’s so nice! You’ll really like him,” and then it was noticeably, almost astonishingly so. For what with most any other doctor, would have been a ten minute appointment, he spent ...

This seems as likely to bring down the Apocalypse as any scenario.  If instead of puffing up and feigning macho with the other bad haircut, WH had started out saying the United States poses no threat to the DPRK and going on about national business, global atmosphere would be different and earth a safer place. As it is, mad bullies chesting up to each other have moved the atomic clock a couple minutes closer to midnight, cosmically, two ant mounds fighting to the death. Nothing matters but the children, all  children. In other news: Justin Fields v Jake Fromm, and Jake's mama ain't gonna be happy. Restored Safari by quit Safari. Restart computer in Safe mode (hold down Shift while booting). Move Safari icon to Trash. Restart in regular mode. Move Safari icon from Trash to Desktop. Click Safari icon to open. Problem solved. Immediately download Google Chrome and set as default browser, Safari as backup.   Thanks, Norm! Ende   

Panama City, 43°F clear, Jupiter high in the eastern sky, wind from NE at 5 mph so feels like 39°, nasty, but promise of 64° all afternoon. Blue jeans, warm jacket and gloves for walking, maybe a scarf. Pull over hat for head & ears, and to cover this bloody circle Dr.K cut in my high forehead yesterday morning: it isn’t fun now, and it wasn’t fun seventy years ago, mama patting my bright red searing hot skin with vinegar upon returning from a day at the beach. Dr said “keep it greasy” so I’m doing, wanting it to heal on its own even with a scar, rather than visits to their plastic surgeon.  Man’s objective in the universe (where “man” = ανθρωπος, mankind; or, PC, humankind, but see http://www.bible-researcher.com/anthropos.html though I don’t appreciate Marlowe’s theology, a certitudinous, twistingly elaborate exclusive business of no concern or interest to my God; anyway man, the goal of anthropos is to shake and pour out the perfect martini, isn’t it. No? Well, okay...

Eating out on Friday mornings after our walk, my favorite breakfast may be a roast beef sandwich at Cahalls Deli. Sliced as rare as possible, ww bread with mayo, no mustard, cheese, lettuce and tomato, dill pickles but no chips, sandwich cold not heated. So, yesterday at TAFB after my haircut, to the commissary for a pound of rare sliced roast beef, and making my own this morning.  My sentiment as a doting cousin, uncle, father, grandfather, and ggf of beloved girls throughout my life, my sentiment is that Judge Aquilina’s metaphorical statement should be literal: she signed his death warrant and Larry Nassar should spend the rest of his life on death row. And MSU should be subjected to the same criminal prosecutions, firings, crippling financial penalties, and suspension treatment for their criminal enablement as PennState was for their scandal. From what the girls testified, the university response of minimizing, ignoring their reporting Nassar’s abuse was horrendously crim...

January 24, 1938, my sister Gina was born. My parents and I had been living in our new house in the Cove just two weeks, and at age two-years eight-months, more than my new baby sister, I was visually fascinated with our huge front door, which held my fascination all the rest of my years there. It must have been quite different from the front door of the old house we moved from in St. Andrews, because when, a morning in August 2014, the current owner invited us in and showed us through the house, the first thing I did was go home again by checking that the front door was the exact same, and so it was. Happy birthday, Gina, you have been and are a wonderful sister, and I wish you love and many thankful returns of the day. January 24, 2011. I’m in Cleveland, Ohio. We - - Linda, I, Rayford and Eugenia Lloyd had landed at Burke Cleveland Lakefront Airport on the shore of Lake Erie, in the Cessna Citation jet plane of Bill and June Lloyd, on January 18, a bitter cold, snowy day. ...

If I google “news” and scroll down a bit I come to “News is bad for you — and giving up reading it will make you happier …” with which sentiment I earnestly agree, all the while being as addicted to news as the next one. It’s all bad, which says loads (of what?) more about us who rush to read it than about what’s to be read. I won’t go off on current events except to say without qualification that politicians of whatever party who make bargaining chips of the lives, health, safety & future of children, any child, every child, aren’t worth a gee alphabet damn, and comes the revolution, which is why we have the Second Amendment, there will finally be means of dealing with them finally. In the meantime, this shocking crevice of my mental abyss remains padlocked to all but myself, though obviously from this escape, not securely enough. I must post another guard there. If everything is connected, so also may it be that nothing is connected.  Brad Leithauser, another who...

55°F and cloudy, one planet in the eastern sky when I looked out upon arising at four o’clock. May be 70°F or close today, returning to a proper Florida Gulf Coast winter. I never figured out WTH all that bitter cold was about, jiminy christmas, I’ve lived in Rhode Island, Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvania, and finally got home to Florida for good reasons, including a boyhood of barefoot, short pants and shirtless winters.  Once the weatherman fully regains his senses the only thing I’ll miss is getting up predawn mornings to streaks of lightning on the near horizon over the Gulf, and rolling, rumbling thunder as the black clouds move toward 7H. But summer should take care of that such that again the difference between summer and winter is whether there’s lightning.  My years growing up: a hot house, my upstairs bedroom, on the right going up the stairs, my bed pushed over against the open window, the attic fan drumming and pulling in cooler, or at least moving, air across m...

Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ. I shall speak of it. You may be seated. Mark 1:14-20 After John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him. I have a call story, you have a call story, every Christian has a call story even if it’s just, only, and simply Jesus’ claim on you at your baptism. You are called. “Give us...

What I am seeing? Never do I begin a blog with myself, the word “I” and seldom or never a paragraph, if I'm paying attention to myself. A sentence maybe, some sentences, but in mid-paragraph.  Reading skillful prose, a beautiful essay, I’m seeing that it’s virtually - - virtual, virtually, not a good word these days, its meaning is lost to cultural rot - - virtually indistinguishable from poetry, some poetry. Astronomy* and poetry are indistinguishable, who doubts this should get a telescope and point it at the sky on a clear night, you will stand transfixed and transported. And poetry. Not doggerel such as I used to write evenings at sunset, but poetry. Frost, I’ve been reading Robert Frost (1874-1963), a lifelong favorite. Frost and about Frost, why? maybe because of high school, Miss Faye's class? maybe because I recall Robert Frost beautifully from my years at UnivFlorida when he came through twice a year, in the fall on his way south from home in New England to his...