Month: May 2025

Meet the Pest

photog Biden Humor, Current Events, Humor, Trump ,

Jonathan Capon:  Good evening I’m Jonathan Capon of the Washington Post.

David Books:  And I’m David Books of the New York Times.  And you’re watching the PBS News Hour.  Tonight, we will be speaking to former US President Joe Bilephlegm and his wonderful wife Dr. Jill.  Welcome Mr. President and First Lady.

President Bilephlegm:  Thank you, Phil.  It’s good to be back in Washington.  Where I belong.

Jill Bilephlegm:  Thank you, David.  He meant David.

David Books:  Yes, I’m sure he did.  Mr. President, since your withdrawal from the 2024 race and the subsequent catastrophic loss of your vice president to Donald Trump many people have been waiting for you to speak candidly about what you think happened in the election and what could have been done to prevent the loss.

President Bilephlegm:  I’m glad you asked Brad.  The answer is simple.  When I rope-a-doped Trump in the first debate many faint-hearted Democrats like Nancy Pelosi and George Clooney panicked.  They thought I really had gone bananas and began shouting for me to drop out of the race.  And then that bedwetter George Stepha-what’s-his-name piled on and before you know it, I’ve been kicked to the curb by these weak-kneed cowards.  And that left that drunken bimbo to try and face Donald Trump on her own.  It was hopeless.

Jonathan Capon:  Mr. President are you seriously claiming that your performance at the debate was an act?  Because at the time it was described as a shambolic disaster of the first water.

President Bilephlegm:  Listen nancy boy I’ve been handling bullies like Trump since before you groveled before your first editor.  I was first in my class at Harvard.  I took a bullet for Nelson Mandela and I fought at Iwo Jima.

Jonathan Capon:  What?  You barely graduated from the University of Delaware.  You never met Mandela.  And you were three years old when Iwo Jima was fought.  How could you possibly have been there?

President Bilephlegm:  I fought at the second battle of Iwo Jima.  It wasn’t as famous but the fighting was even tougher.  I was wounded five times and received three Congressional medals of honor for my service.  I turned the tide of the battle single-handedly and routed the Russians.

Jonathan Capon:  Oh, that’s enough, I’m out of here. (leaves the stage)

Jill Bilephlegm:  Come back Jonathan, you have to let him tell his story his own way.  He’s a great communicator.

President Bilephlegm:  Let him go.  I’ll tell my story to Freddie over here.  He’s a real newsman.

David Books:  It’s David, Mr. President, not Freddie.

President Bilephlegm:  Whatever you want to call yourself is fine with me Kemosabe.  Look I’m trying to get my story out so that my 2028 campaign will get off on the right track.  In 2026 I’ve got to hit the ground running if I want to get the moderate vote sewn up early.

David Books:  Mr. President, are you out of your mind?  You can’t run for president again.  You’d be ninety years old by the end of that term.

President Bilephlegm:  So?  Ninety is just a number.  Remember what Morning Schmoe said about me last year.  He said that intellectually, analytically, I was the best Bilephlegm there ever was.  And he was right!

David Books:  Well, their parent company is trying to spin off his network and lay off Morning Schmoe even as we speak so I wouldn’t give that too much weight.

President Bilephlegm:  Listen Brainiac, they laughed at Trump when he said he was coming back after a four-year hiatus and look at him now.  Why, he bestrides the known world like a colostomy.  In four years when he can’t run again, I’ll be back and I’ll win.

David Books:  With all due respect Mr. President, in four years you won’t be able to say your own name.

President Bilephlegm:  So what?  FDR had Elanor to help him.  I’ll have what’s-her-name over there to do the heavy lifting.  We’re a team.  And Hunter is already lining up some trade deals that should net billions for us.

David Books:  Who’s “us.”

President Bilephlegm:  The American people of course.

David Books:  Alright, that’s enough.  I’m going back to Canada.  At least our crooks don’t smell this bad (leaves stage).

President Bilephlegm:  (speaking in a stage whisper) So, all of you viewers out there, remember to vote for good old Joe.  (yelling) Don’t let the Nazis win!

All the World’s a Stage

photog Current Events, Life in Dunwich, OCF, photog's Corner, Reclaiming the Family ,

The Bible (Psalms 90:10) says, “The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.”

So, seventy years are a little less than 25,000 days.  That seems like a big number.  But at the end looking back, it’s the blink of an eye.  That time is swallowed up in sleeping and commuting to work and drinking bad coffee and keeping your boss from firing you and fighting with vendors and trying to satisfy clients and paying the bills.  Hopefully you spent enough time with your wife and kids so that they had some inkling of who you really are.

The best days are carrying the babies home from a family party where everyone was glad to see each other and there was something to celebrate; a holiday or an occasion.  Or taking the kids to the seashore for a week or two in the heat of July.  Or maybe taking your wife out someplace special for a big anniversary.

And then the kids get married and then the grandchildren come along.  So, there’s a progression.  The cycle comes around again.  Only now you’re on the other side of the wheel.  Way out there on the far side.  You recognize the program but now you’re seeing it from far away.

So, the thing to do is try to make yourself useful and try to add a little something to the plot of the story.  You’re no longer the lead.  You’re not even near the center of the stage.  You’re kind of the guy in the wings with a copy of the script ready to whisper the lines to the actors if they forget their lines.  Well, it’s still useful and who knows maybe there’s a non-speaking role for you as a spear carrier.  That’s when you get to be backup driver for soccer games or band practice.  After all it’s honorable service.

But it is weird how life works.  You really can’t delay gratification.  You can’t work for forty years to make enough money to make the last years worth having missed what came before.  You have to figure out how to squeeze the joy out of the process of living.  You have to enjoy being a kid and a young man and your prime and what comes after that.  You have to find some friends along the way, go on those coffee walks at break time and go to your kids’ soccer games and their kids’ baseball games and volunteer around town and even do really annoying stuff like getting involved in local politics.

Like I said, it’s the blink of an eye.  Twenty-five or thirty thousand days is a short span when so much is eaten up by routine that is almost unavoidable.  I guess if you’re a billionaire it’s a little different but I’ll bet it’s still the same tradeoffs, responsibilities versus joy.

Of course I haven’t seen the last page.  As Shakespeare said,

“Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

Well, I better hurry up and get my ducks in a row.

Rufus Panhandles a Meal

photog Current Events, Life in Dunwich, OCF, Photo Study, photog's Corner , , ,

A funny thing happened yesterday.  I was heading out to take some photos of a patch of bugle weed that is in bloom.  I had my camera backpack on and I was carrying a small tabletop sized tripod.  And as I walked out on the deck in front of the kitchen a baby fox came walking past me on the upper driveway.  When I closed the door, he noticed me and stopped and turned.  What a strange moment.  Now Camera Girl loves to see the baby foxes when they’re denning in the swamp so I wanted to get a photo for her so I desperately tried to get my camera out of the pack and in hand but the little fox trotted toward the shed and disappeared before I could free the camera.  I followed him behind the shed and looked down into the woods and pond but he was gone.

Camera Girl was out shopping.  When she got home, I told her about it and she was very excited.  She always enjoys when any foxes show up on the property but especially when pups (kits?) are around.  So, she was thrilled when a little while later it returned on the driveway.  And she went and got a bunch of chicken scraps and started feeding it.  I told her to be careful and keep her distance.  A fox walking around in the open in the daytime is a questionable occurrence.  They say that rabid animals tend to show up during the day so I cautioned her.  Well, before you know it, she’d fed the creature and then she put out a small bowl of milk and at that point I’m afraid maybe it’s moving in with us.

I went out with my camera and saw him ducking in and out of a space under the shed.  I got a few not-so-great photos and watched him for a while.  He was young and he didn’t look that strong.  I tried to imagine how a kit that young would be on its own.  I wondered if the den was under the shed but I never saw any sign of the parents or den-mates.  Could his parents have been killed?  It didn’t seem likely.  Was he sickly and abandoned?  Maybe.  After a while he didn’t reappear so I went in.  Camera Girl left out more food and milk.  But by nightfall it was still there.

Last night I heard about how exciting it was that the little fox was about.  I warned her that it wasn’t so good having it around.  I told her it was a health hazard for the dogs to have a wild canid around spreading various diseases they could catch.  She yes-yessed me but I could tell she was hoping it would stick around.  I was preparing myself for the headaches this new “pet” would cause me.  Oh well.

But today Rufus was nowhere to be found.  Even a fresh portion of food and milk wasn’t enough to lure him back.  Is he gone for good?  Maybe.  Camera Girl is disappointed but I can tell she still has hopes.

To be continued.