9/11 may have worked once as Reppuppetlican magic numbers but this time the numbers could be a little more outa control, and not only for being uncomfortably close to the 78th anniversary of Kristallnacht.

I woke, 11/9,

to find I’d been wrong about Donnie; the speech, though boiler-plated, was surprisingly gracious and inclusive. I didn’t believe a word of it [the only true thing he ever said was earlier; “It’s all rigged, folks”

…and this season, with Assange, Comey and most importantly the evisceration of the Voting Rights Act [not to mention those voting machines nobody ever mentions anymore] the Repups proved the Bigger Riggers], but it was a surprise -“Presidential” – nonetheless. A BIG surprise…

So for five hours driving down we had fair and balanced NPR in endless bewilderment within their informational feedback loop and no mention of any of the above.  Between Doyle and Hallelujah Junction I heard Hill, in full, calling for Unity; a little more steely than the prezelect and what a sad end to a long and dedicated career – the most qualified candidate, probably ever, losing to a bozo huckster who just happened to tap the zeitgeist, proving a “real” man can trump a wonk in a pantsuit, bigtime, every time.  Well, that’s America fer ya’…take it

or leave it

…with chaotic misfortune for all, staying or going.

Back to Benicia, land of the Chev, home of the brave and off to the doc, who poked a hole in my cheek forthwith

which, come the dawn, helped.

Donald in, Leonard out…definitely a net loss; I spent the evening listening to “You Want it Darker”, Mr. Cohen’s generous and final offering, then awoke on Planet Polluto, which happens around here with some frequency thanks to the fossil fools making fossil fuels all around us.

The stench drifted off in time for a temporarily reassuring repeat visit to the doctor

and Friday’s Fiesta; a dozen or so friends and colleagues celebrating Linda’s Impending Award [and belated apologies to those unaware of that; the email announcement went straight into “sent” many weeks ago without ever actually sending] on an evening warm enough to spend hours in the garden eating, drinking, talking and only peripherally commiserating.

Polluto’s murk blew off but the despair of the New World Ordure infected the morning

but not the dogs, who don’t care about Trump, emails or any Future much beyond their Walk.

It’s still America anyway, whatever that’s worth,

and still a moon for Linda’s closing and ISC Outstanding Educator award at CCA.

She gave a walk-through of the exhibition

before eloquently accepting the accolades and honors

while the spirit of Specky, ever departing the Creekwalk vid…

preceded dinner, after which

we made it home just barely before Sunday with the straits obscured.  The fog later lifted to reveal a nice ’48 Ford down at the end of West E Street.

After lunch was a lengthy Skype, or rather Facetime [better reception but inferior resolution], with the kids, into and out of which I dropped while packing followed by

autumnal light,

‘super’ moon.

and sleep…perchance to wake to disturbing, and disturbingly belated, results from the Kaiser lab test.

Well, later on that.

 

m