Sunday, February 07, 2016

Magical Cleveland ...

... is filling me with sighs.

This Kurent didn't scare the Goat and me away.

Part of this

Bocce in the basement of the Slovenian National Home? OLD SCHOOL

Can't say it but can eat it

I should have been a gogo dancer

Smile, Goat


Creature love

Have a seat

Hola, Lake Erie, the view from here is spectacular

Oh, Cleveland, how you do me ...

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Monday, January 25, 2016

Prepare for the hangover, Mr. Trump

Sleeping with the enemy

On January 21 in the year of our Lord 2012, after having concluded that our mattress had reached the lowest dip in the biorythm of its life, the Goat and I concluded a harrowing shopping excursion with the purchase of the unit pictured above (more here).

This was the first new mattress purchase I ever made. Hence, when the set I wanted clocked in at nearly $1,800, I did not care.

"I do not care," I told the Goat as we lay upon the Trumpster's mattress in our winter coats staring at the ceiling in the predictable showroom.

That the mattress we liked best was under the Trump brand was more or less a joke. Who cared? We liked the unit, which was, after all, a Serta - one of those brands we more or less trust.

Here in the year of our Lord 2016, however, a few things have changed. We are no longer in the market for a new bed, but if we were, I daresay the Trump name would deter the purchase. Four years ago, the Donald was a loud-mouthed boor. Today, he's an egomaniac dangerously stoking the flames of fear and bigotry in order to prolong his perverse intoxication. I offered this observation to the Goat during our constitutional yesterday morning.

"No way I would shell out $1,800 for anything with a Trump label on it now," I said.

"So what?" countered the Goat. "His supporters will."

I begged to differ, saying that the average Trump supporter does not look one hell of a lot like the people who have historically supported the luxe Trump brand. Try a swank $420 per night hotel room or a $600,000 NYC one-bedroom condo.

Who knows? Maybe the rich people won't care if their $380 Aquanox Signature Spa Experience is associated with the Trumpster. That said, there's always someone happy to take your $380 who does not publicly call women fat and ugly and does not believe you should be barred from entering the country based on your religion.

But if that same rich person opts to purchase a mattress much like my own, she or he will discover that Serta has since stopped selling mattresses under the Trump name on account of his "disparaging comments about Mexican immigrants."

That's just one. Earlier this month, Politico offered up a telling article on how the Trumpster's luxury brand is nosediving amid the Donald's atrocious rhetoric.

"I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose voters."

While I suppose that may indeed depend on the demographics of the victim, Mr. Trump, it may nonetheless be true. The question is, in the event you wake on January 20, 2017 and find you are not preparing for the inaugural pomp and circumstance, who will be bellying up to support the Trump brand? Your post-political life may no longer include the well-heeled. You'll be left with the angry white middle class to whom you've pandered, which may or may not be able to afford your diamond-encrusted lifestyle.

As my dearly beloved pointed out to me, Trump has reinvented himself time and time again. Perhaps he will do so in the aftermath of his political career as the Politico article points out:

"Then again, (Trump) could move into the part of the consumer market where no real damage has been done. Perhaps a Trump brand of smokes, or maybe canned meat?"

So who's up for a Trumped Potted Meat sammie and a nice cold can of The Donald's Pink Catawba?

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Wednesday, December 23, 2015

My little chickadee


Just stick with me on this.

Yes, that is the Goat standing next to a life-size stick figure with a Frank Sinatra head. That wood thingie you see is a would-be palm that folds down. During the month of November, Ol' Blue Eyes gets installed on the exterior walkway of the Cleveland Metroparks' Brecksville Nature Center. The staff then removes the resident bird feeders and fills his wooden palm with sunflower seeds. Eventually, the chickadees, titmice and woodpeckers find Frankie's hand and start feeding from it.

Y'all see where this is going?

Over winter break, Frank gets retired and for scheduled hours, the birdfeeders come down and anyone can mosey into the nature center for a handful of seeds and feed the birds (I wrote about this last week for Freshwater). Despite having lived just a few miles from the Brecksville Reservation for more than 20 years, I did not know about this program until I penned that story. Hence, the Goat, Lil' OB and I went and fed the chickadees earlier this week.

Lil' OB meets a new friend while we warm up by the fire inside
the Brecksville Nature Center

Aw, readership ... it was just about the best thing ever. Those tiny birds check you out a few times, and then land right on your fingers and pluck a seed from your palm.

If you're in the area, get your person over to Brecksville and do this one. It's a short, sweet activity that will be long on memories. Sorry I did not get photos of the feeding, but sometimes your ol' humble hostess likes to simply enjoy the moment instead of recording it.

~tweet tweet~

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