I am thankful that, in 2026, a few anachronisms still exist in small town Indiana. Ladies and gentlemen, the White Steamer in Washington. Everyone clearly knows each other. Cash only. Menu on the wall with those black press-in letters. Old men at the bar talking about the weather. 10/10

Auto-generated description: A street view shows vintage Coca-Cola and White Steamer Hamburgers signs hanging outside a building with parked cars and other shops along the sunny sidewalk. Auto-generated description: A classic diner setting with customers sitting at booths and stools along a counter, featuring a checkered floor and a red cup filled with ice on a table.

Uncle Wendell was mentioned by a Budget scribe out of Missouri

First fire!

At the top of Green Hill Cemetery. The wonderful stone carver memorial stands to the right and, up the next hill in the distance, stands St Vincent de Paul.

Anyone else notice that people don’t flash lights at oncoming traffic to warn about a speed trap? (I still do.) Has this practice just been forgotten or is it the result of thin blue line propaganda? I remember when country folks and cops weren’t friendly. Not hostile, but certainly not trusting.

An unexpected effect of the (not so) new job: I’m rarely in Bloomington anymore. It was such a big part of my life for thirty years. Now I’m there less than once a month. So many cool things there, but now I think, “All the way to Bloomington? In that traffic?” 😄

It’s here! Just in time for me to shape up a super secret project during my week off.

And they shall beat their data centers into plowshares, and their Teslas into pruninghooks.

I’d have a hard time picking my favorite Aesop Rock but this would be near the top. 🎵 Yes, I watched the documentary after hearing it.

Thirty-one years ago today I had the best and last first date of my life.