Comments? You got comments?

Cripe, I leave the place for a while and vandals get in (or out) and things change. I have always had comments on, but somehow they were turned off. I have been looking for a specific box about comments and have not found a simple little one to check.

I have some simple entertainment right now; I am watching the UPS truck on a GPS map get nearer to my house. It has a copy of my marriage certificate so that I can go in and get a REAL ID that shows I am an American citizen. I am an un-hyphenated American, well, if you don’t count the one I just used. Once when my younger son was in fourth grade, he came home and said they were studying Ellis Island and he needed to know where his “old country” was. It was a question that took me totally by surprise. I kept telling him he was an American but that didn’t cut it with the teacher. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

Woo-Hoo. The UPS truck is behind the old Wal-Mart. I feel sort of stupid doing this . . . so maybe I’ll pretend I’m a derring-do WWII secret agent monitoring enemy movement. ooOf course, war is not a good thing, but just think about how many movies wouldn’t have been made if GPS had been in the forties.

And that reminds me, I want to see Five Graves to Cairo again; it’s on my bucket list.

Dusting off the jukebox

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s old school but it’s fun to flip through the choices. I like it now that I’m here pretty much by myself because I can pick a song and play it over and over and over and over and no one complains. Foo gives me a look, but then she sighs and puts on her earphones and starts bopping to her own tune. I have no idea what she is listening to in her cute little earphones, but her head shakes and dance moves are entertaining.

I just starting thinking about it being an election year – a contentious one, to say the very least. We don’t talk politics in this joint; when one walks in and hears the screen door slam behind them in the summer or the warmth of the Franklin Stove draw them closer in winter, one finds a respite zone.

Oh, Joe Biden. Yes. We are not on the fence about that BOZO. We admit it. We celebrate it.

I have no other place to go.

Well, I’m back and I am hoping that it is not for just a day or so. It’s not that I have been lost, but that I have accepted the fact that I just don’t belong in the world of “nice people who hand out MEMES OF GOODNESS and ride on bandwagons heading toward Utopia.”

No one is really here but me, and that’s okay. I mean, really, who wants to get naked in front of a window, especially if they are overweight. It’s more graphic than overweight; that description just expands you sort of evenly. My overweightness is in the form of pooches and bulges that sometimes rub together. Yes, look no more into your imagination; it might get too vivid.

Other than that, I’m okay. I’m unlocking this place and moving into the upstairs living quarters in The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse. Foo is re-opening the FooBar and has I’m looking to hire a fellow to man the grill and serve up tasty sandwiches and sides. So far, I’ve got an applicationf from this blond-going-grey guy with the initials G.R. He might be just the ticket.

Did Gordon Ramsay lead me to this?

That’s a backwards question; it should be asking if searching for foods that Gordon Ramsay mentioned alerted this site to me.

It is what I call The Awful Picture to Find on Your Desktop.

At first glance I thought it was about a game that my husband plays – Civilization, in which I think you can hurl plague victims over an enemy wall. But forget about the pictures and look at the prices and you may feel like hurling. (A BIG SORRY) Should I have said, “Toss your cookies? (NO, NO and NO)

BookBub suggests A Good Dog

I have no doubt this is an excellent book. However, after 71 years and a few dogs, I can’t even look at the cover without feeling my eyes fill with tears. I watched “Marley & Me” and so enjoyed it up to the moment I realized the ending wasn’t going to be a fade away, in which you knew what was coming but you didn’t have to watch it. I wanted it to be in that area of ‘I won’t think of that now.’

But, there it was, a dog, kids and a burial.

And me remembering dogs “going to sleep” and dogs collapsing . . . We have had Sad and it is a haunting thing.

A Good Dog

I don’t care if it’s outdated

I had to come back to this theme which can’t be updated. Well, the heck with it. Maybe someday I will study up and find a theme that will be compatible with everything and still feel like home. Who really knows?

I think I had to return here because I have been looking at all the stuff on social media and a lot of the time, I want to shout: ARE YOU REALLY COMFORTABLE ON YOUR HIGHT HORSE?

A long break

Well, my little chickadees. I have been on hiatus. Not really, of course, but it sounds so much better than saying I have been lazy. Not much has been happening and that is my fault; I have been doing nothing – and I have been doing that diligently.

Lord, I do not look forward to the election next year now that Facebook and Twitter are going super full force. Everyone and their brother has already started posting unpleasant memes. It is a stampede of those who believe if you want to get your point across you should SHOUT and INTERRUPT, and if necessary, do it louder.

Perhaps I should not have just said “brother” now that the Episcopal Church has some announcement about not using He as a God reference. So would it be every brother, sister, in-law, inter-sexed and so forth?

I would bang my head against the wall, but then I would look like Dilbert. Understand by clicking. Then, again, it might be an improvement.

Fuyao Glass America – Well, not quite an American Factory

AMERICAN FACTORY

You can even joke about the President and no one will do anything to you.

I happened upon “American Factory” on Netflix, and my interest in watching it increased when I learned it was about a closed GM plant in Dayton that was revamped by a Chinese company, incorporating an American/Chinese workforce. I used to live in Dayton.

Certain quotes focused my attention. When explaining American culture to the Chinese workers who were coming here, the narration referred to American casual dress and one exact statement was: “They are very obvious, they dislike abstraction and theory.” The Chinese billionaire founder of the glass company says, “Americans love being flattered to death . . . Donkeys like being touched in the direction their hair grows.”

Later, in assessing American performance, a Chinese worker reported, “They have fat fingers; they are pretty slow.”

In a meeting with only Chinese employees, Jeff Liu, company president speaks in Mandarin about how the Chinese can encourage the Americans and impart wisdom to them. He tell them why they should: “We are better than them.”

In regard to Facebook, one difference between the Chinese and Americans amazes the former: “You can even joke about the President and no one will do anything to you.”

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