Anchor Struck

My lung is healing well and I will see a specialist in ten days who will hopefully take me off light duty. About all I can do now is pick blackberries. I have a hunch that, after four plus months of drought, the autumn rains will return earlier than usual. So there’s that to prepare for.

Today, however, I’d like to bid farewell to two exceptional world citizens. Bill Richardson was an early exit in the Democratic scrum for president in 2008. As governour of New Mexico, he signed bills banning capital punishment and legalizing medical weed, while refusing to posthumously pardon Billy the Kid. He had more than his share of ethics issues, but he was one of the very first U.S. national political figures to advocate for legal recreational weed.

Jimmy Buffett sang of strumming his six-string on his front porch swing while building a billion-dollar empire. I saw him at Shoreline Amphitheatre in the Bay Area, where I had the immense pleasure of singing “Let’s Get Drunk and Screw” along with 20,000 other Parrotheads. My family doctor has Buffett posters in his hallway.

Elsewhere in the world, I’m enjoying the substantial sentences being given to some of the J6 leaders. A few have expressed remorse, but one yelled “Trump won!” as he was led from the courtroom. Aging Orange isn’t helping with legal fees for most of those at the bottom of his crime wave, so I’m hoping they will start flipping on him. I still dream of Trump Inc. collapsing in blockbuster fashion.