California Seaside

No bout adout it. If I had about fifty million dollars in the bank, I’d find somewhere near San Diego by the sea, and I’d walk among the waves every day, even if it were raining, as long as it wasn’t too severe.

It has but one problem. In order to afford it, I would have to tie my rowboat to the dock, put my bed in one place, and the fridge in another. I’d need to use a public BBQ for cooking.

Along the coastline stretching from the Mexican border to Camp Pendleton, numerous large boats crowd the marinas, creating a challenging landscape for boat owners. Despite having substantial financial resources, securing a suitable mooring spot remains a complex endeavor, highlighting the competitive nature of maritime real estate in this region.

Ironically, these lavish vessels seldom venture beyond the harbor’s protective barrier, with hired crews inhabiting their decks far more frequently than their affluent owners.

Squandering prime coastal real estate and perfect meteorological conditions feels like a missed opportunity. In retrospect, pursuing a maritime career during my younger years might have offered an escape from mundane routines, allowing me to embrace the sea’s allure without the need of immense wealth.

Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite type of weather?

Who’s More Dangerous?

The international gangs and gang leaders,

Or

The federal judges who protect them.

It’s challenging to decide, with conflicting thoughts.

I suspect the only real difference is that the judges get paid by the federal government. They all owe their allegiance to the same place.

Please take note, not all the judges are protectors of the evil…not yet.

Artificial Intelligence is Not Always so Intelligent.

Am I the only one to notice that?

I frequently experience frustration when typing, as the system automatically alters my text without permission, replacing my original words with what it believes to be correct. These unsolicited changes occur instantaneously, without seeking my consent or input.

This can get downright frustrating when I change it back and then it changes it again. It won’t get the hint. It is just hardheaded, this thing without a head.

I wish it would at least let me know when it decides to make changes. I was sending a message to my son with SATA in it, a completely acceptable acronym. Later, I was checking the message and saw that it changed it to “say it.” I suspect that caused him some confusion.

I vividly remember multiple occasions where I frantically rushed to modify post titles shortly after publishing, a frustrating experience that highlights the need for greater editorial flexibility. Content creators should have the autonomy to craft and adjust titles as they see fit, without unnecessary restrictions.

Might Have to Eat Some of my Emphatic Words

I don’t anticipate, but I now realize it is now possible, maybe plausible. Repeatedly, I have said if you want to have a successful downtown, you need three things. No bout adout It, you need easy access. I’m not going to fight traffic and or complex roads to get something that is just down the street, so to speak.

I am not going anywhere that I would want to strap a couple of size shooters to my hips. Sorry, most downtown areas make me want eyes in the back of my head.

Certainly, I don’t foresee any hope of either of these changing in the near future. Indeed, as long as the dems continue, these two problems will only likely just get worse.

However, the idea of autonomous self-driving autos just might lead to, at least a significant help in the parking problems. If I can call a car on my cell phone for either going to or from the downtown area, then I won’t need a parking space. Even more, the autonomous auto can drop me off right at the “front door” conceivably decreasing my walking. This would be especially nice if you’re old and have a gimpy ankle like me.

I am still not ready to get out my eating utensils, let alone the seasonings. The Democrats still have more than ample time to completely mismanage it all, very likely on purpose.

If

It’s probably the shortest post title I will ever use. Then again, it might be the largest.

If is a powerful word, standing as a gateway between reality and possibility, bridging the gap between what exists and what could potentially unfold.

President Trump has vowed to investigate numerous pardons and documents allegedly signed by automated machines during President Biden’s administration, suggesting potential impropriety without his direct knowledge.

I am inclined to go along with those who say that the documents are final and cannot be reversed. It would appear as though Trump is likely just spinning his wheels. It is a shame that some of the worst killers to walk the earth will likely get off, making a mockery of American justice.

However, this is where that little big word comes in. You see, -IF- the documents are reversed, those kill just might be wanting to leave on a jet plane, maybe a row boat if nothing else is available.

Hunter Biden may find himself dependent on court-appointed legal representation. Without his previous political connections, his artistic endeavors have lost their previous marketability, potentially limiting his travel options and financial resources.

3 Questions About my New I-phone

I recently purchased an iPhone 14 from T-Mobile and quickly discovered several intriguing features that piqued my curiosity. Initially, I noticed a small tab near the volume buttons and wondered about its purpose. A couple days ago, a voicemail from my sister arrived, which caught my attention because the phone had remained silent during the incoming call. These unexpected details prompted me to explore the device’s functionality more closely.

Frustration mounted as I navigated through the labyrinthine settings, certain I had accidentally silenced my phone’s ringer. Despite my systematic search, the elusive mute option remained hidden. Determined, I dialed my number three consecutive times, each call connecting flawlessly, yet not a single sound emerged from the device.

Now I had three questions: the little tab, how I muted the ringer and how in the world I was going to get the thing turned back on before throwing the thing through the nearest wall.

My determination was put to the test as I meticulously searched for nearly ninety minutes before reluctantly reaching out to the local T-Mobile store. To my amusement, my call not only solved my problem but also brought unexpected joy to the customer service representative. Her laughter, palpable even through the phone, suggested a shared moment of understanding, as she revealed she had experienced a similar situation herself.

She clarified everything with her response. The indicator tab functioned as a switch, and when displaying red, it signaled that the ringer was deactivated—exactly as I had observed on my device.

I’m thoroughly impressed with this phone. Despite a few minor quirks I’m still navigating, it significantly outperforms my previous device. The innovative concept behind the switch is particularly compelling, and I commend the design team’s creative approach. My only reservation is the level of secrecy surrounding it.

Before & After

Initially, Senator Schumer boldly proclaimed his intention to reject the continuing resolution, standing firm in his opposition. However, in about a day, he reversed course and announced a change of heart, surprising many with his sudden shift in stance.

Initially, I dismissed their reversal as a hasty retreat based on unfavorable polling. But after carefully observing the speaker’s demeanor and nuanced facial expressions, I sensed a deeper, more complex motivation behind the sudden change of stance. Something fundamental had shifted in the announcement – a subtle but profound transformation that suggested more was at play than mere public opinion.

After the the short time, Senator Schumer’s demeanor shifted dramatically. His once-confident posture crumbled as he bowed his head, shoulders sagging with a palpable sense of defeat. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, visibly draining his earlier bravado.

Despite my repeated attempts to understand the underlying cause, I have been unable to formulate a coherent explanation that satisfies my curiosity.

It appears he has suffered a profound emotional setback. The impact seems so significant that I would not be astonished if he chooses to forgo seeking re-election. In fact, there is a possibility he might even contemplate resigning from his current position.

The underlying motivation or context behind a decision often carries more significance than the decision itself.

Although initially contemplating a separate post, I’m integrating this information here due to its inherent connection to the existing content.

The esteemed senator appears to have encountered an unexpected setback, potentially beyond their control. Given the well-known reliance of many political figures on book sales as a significant income stream, this development could illuminate the senator’s rapid descent into professional uncertainty. The consequences might extend to forfeiting cherished property investments, such as a retirement residence in upstate New York or a coveted Florida retreat.

Simple Question, Complex Answer

Memories eluded me at first, a blank canvas of experience. Yet, as I delved deeper into the recesses of my mind, a handful of extraordinary moments emerged, standing against the backdrop of my past.

Nonetheless, they all had one big failure. While I was never diagnosed as dyslexic, I definitely have many of the symptoms. By the fifth grade, certainly by the sixth grade, I should have been tested. I went all the way through high school, and apparently not one teacher suspected anything.

Before I go further, I should probably say that the influence does go both ways. My seventh-grade world history teacher did so much to discourage me that I virtually threw my hands up in frustration and gave up. It did have a bleed-over effect into other subjects, but, well, I did get my high school diploma. This post would have to be too long to explain it all. However, he essentially made it impossible for me to succeed. Try or not, I failed. So, why try?

During my eighth-grade year, my US history teacher stood out as an exceptional educator who possessed a remarkable ability to engage students and inspire learning. Her teaching style was so compelling that I developed a solid understanding of US history, with a particular depth of knowledge about the Constitution. Despite her instructional prowess, she, like the others, did not recognize the underlying signs of my lifelong struggle with dyslexia.

Dyslexia often manifests through slow reading speeds. Despite my best efforts, I can only manage around 150 words per minute, which is significantly below average. Auditory learning is my strength; I can effortlessly retain information from hour-long lectures with remarkable clarity. In contrast, reading the same material proves challenging, with comprehension and retention markedly reduced. This learning difference created significant obstacles, particularly in my seventh-grade history class, where the teacher predominantly relied on reading assignments rather than engaging lectures.

Actually, I deviated from my original destination. The meandering nature of my journey speaks volumes about my perspective on the experience.

Daily writing prompt
Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

Picture This

During our time in Japan, my family and I explored the charming city of Iwakuni. As an unusual sight in the local culture, I carried my vibrant, two-year-old redheaded son on my shoulders while walking through the streets. Our presence drew curious glances, as Japanese men rarely transport children in this manner, and red-haired individuals were a rare sight in the area.

Our peculiar procession drew stares and whispers wherever we wandered. Heads turned, fingers pointed, and laughter erupted around us. But for me, this was pure delight. I’ve always found joy in being the center of attention, transforming curious glances and mocking chuckles into moments of shared amusement.

Navigating through the bustling crowd, my son’s infectious enthusiasm shone through. With a beaming smile, he cheerfully repeated, “Go men. Go men. Go men a si,” which translates to “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me please.” His adorable attempt at politeness drew amused chuckles from those around us.

On the other hand, I have recently seen the Democrats’ attempts at defending gross fraud and misuse of public funds. I frequently ask myself if they are considering what it looks like to the voters.

Guess what. No one is laughing as this picture unfolds before us. Even some of the Democrats are having trouble choking it down.