We spent yesterday afternoon stocking up from the big Mexican grocery for our Football Sunday. Because nothing says football like posole, burritos, rellenos, and migas, amiright? And it’s a relaxing football day since the Ravens are playing for absolutely nothing. Maybe we’ll see some of that Trace McSorly magic!
Speaking of which, as usual, people were born on this date, including the spiritual father of rubber; a guy who got court-martialed and had an airport in Milwaukee; an actual Russian collaborator; a pioneer of pseudo-history; everybody’s sweetheart; a guy who used to own George Costanza’s car; someone who really should have been a pornstar; and one of my favorite drunks.
On to news, such as it is.
David Frum is consistent and reliable. You always know you’ll be getting sanctimonious statist twaddle. My opinion of Trump is not a positive one, but I give him credit for having the right enemies.
Some people will do anything, no matter how stupid or mendacious, to stay in the public eye. Stacey Abrams is one of them.
Douglas MacKinnon can eat a bag of dicks. Maybe choke to death on the last one, yeah, that would be fitting.
Old Guy Music today is the title cut from one of my favorite albums of the ’70s and the record which convinced me that folk/bluegrass/country was damned interesting. Talk about a supergroup, this one had it all, Earl Scruggs, Maybelle Carter, Vassar Clements, Doc Watson, Roy Acuff, Merle Travis, Norman Blake…