Month: November 2025

Evolution of Black Friday

Black Friday began as a term for financial crisis in 1869 but evolved into the post‑Thanksgiving shopping frenzy we know today.

The first recorded use of “Black Friday” referred not to shopping, but to the U.S. gold market crash on September 24, 1869, when financiers Jay Gould and Jim Fisk attempted to corner the gold market, causing economic chaos.

Decades later, in the 1950s and 1960s, police in Philadelphia used “Black Friday” to describe the chaotic crowds and traffic that flooded the city the day after Thanksgiving, as shoppers and tourists arrived for the Army–Navy football game.

Retailers disliked the negative connotation, and some tried to rebrand it as “Big Friday.” However, the name stuck.

By the 1980s, marketers reshaped the meaning: “Black Friday” came to symbolize the point when stores moved from operating “in the red” (losses) to “in the black” (profits) thanks to holiday shopping.

This shift transformed the day into a national shopping tradition, with retailers offering steep discounts to kick off the holiday season.

While originally American, Black Friday has spread worldwide. Countries like now observe it, often adapting the concept to local culture.

In Mexico, for example, a similar event called “El Buen Fin” (“The Good Weekend”) takes place.

The rise of online shopping brought new traditions: Cyber Monday (launched in 2005) and Small Business Saturday.

Today, Black Friday is less about one day of discounts and more about extended sales events, often starting weeks before Thanksgiving.

 In conclusion, Black Friday’s journey runs from a 19th‑century financial disaster to Philadelphia’s traffic nightmare, to a global shopping phenomenon that now blends in‑store chaos with digital deals.

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving is more than turkey and pie—it’s a day rooted in gratitude, history, and togetherness.

Every year on the fourth Thursday of November, families across the United States gather to celebrate Thanksgiving. While many picture the famous 1621 feast between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag tribe, historians remind us that thanksgiving observances existed long before and after that moment. Early colonists, Indigenous peoples, and even communities in Europe held harvest festivals to honor abundance and survival. Over time, these traditions evolved into the national holiday we know today.

The modern Thanksgiving was officially proclaimed by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863, during the Civil War, as a way to unite a divided nation. Since then, it has grown into a holiday that blends solemn reflection with joyful celebration.

The centerpiece of Thanksgiving is the meal: roast turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Yet food is only part of the story. Families often watch football, volunteer at shelters, or tune in to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, a tradition that began in 1924 with costumed employees and live animals, later evolving into the iconic balloon-filled spectacle.

At its heart, Thanksgiving is about gratitude—pausing to appreciate blessings, both big and small. It’s also a time to acknowledge the complex history behind the holiday. While the Plymouth story is often romanticized, it’s important to remember the diverse communities and traditions that shaped this day.

Today, Thanksgiving invites us to slow down, share a meal, and reflect on what truly matters: family, community, and thankfulness. Whether through laughter around the table, a quiet moment of prayer, or acts of kindness, the spirit of Thanksgiving continues to remind us that gratitude is timeless.

Navigating Thanksgiving Eve Safety First

Move over, Turkey Day. The night before Thanksgiving (infamously dubbed Drinksgiving, Blackout Wednesday, or simply “the busiest bar night of the year”) is when America truly lets loose, reveling in a unique blend of nostalgia and celebration. For anyone in their twenties or thirties who’s headed home for the holiday, Wednesday night is sacred, a ritual steeped in years of cherished memories. College friends flood back into town, high-school group chats explode with excitement, and suddenly everyone you’ve ever known is at the same sticky-floored bar you swore you’d never return to, drawn by the magnetic pull of shared histories and familiar faces. It’s a hometown reunion disguised as a bar crawl, filled with laughter that echoes off the walls, stories that rekindle old bonds, and the thrill of reliving youthful escapades. As the night unfolds, there’s an unmistakable electricity in the air, a sense of community that reminds us all why we ventured out in the first place: to reconnect, reminisce, and make new memories before diving into the family festivities of Thanksgiving Day.

While the bars overflow, grocery stores hit peak chaos (people sprinting for cranberry sauce and extra wine like it’s the apocalypse), and airports groan under the weight of the year’s heaviest travel day, the atmosphere is electric with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Friends gather in dimly lit corners of crowded pubs, swapping holiday plans and reminiscing about the good old days, all while keeping a watchful eye on the clock as they know they have to be up early for family gatherings. In the end, Thanksgiving Eve isn’t about gratitude; it’s about one glorious, slightly reckless night with the friends who knew you before you had a “real job” (right before you have to sit across from your aunt and explain, yes, you’re still single) and navigate the sometimes awkward, yet endearing family dynamics that come with the holiday season. As laughter fills the air and memories are shared over clinking glasses, there’s a sense of warmth in the chaos, making this night a cherished tradition worth every frantic moment.

No wonder the police forces are ramping up their relentless hunt for reckless drivers who have no business being behind the wheel, especially given the shocking surge in traffic accidents driven by their absurdly negligent behavior. With each year that goes by, the chaos on our roads escalates, fueled by impaired or distracted drivers who seem to disregard the safety of others. In response, law enforcement is not just cranking up their vigilance; they’re deploying harsher measures and leveraging cutting-edge technology to root out those who threaten public safety, determined to reclaim our roads and make them safer for everyone else. Therefore, do not drink and get behind that steering wheel.

So, raise a glass to Blackout Wednesday: the unofficial start of the holiday season, and the reason half the country needs three plates of stuffing just to recover.

The Beauty of a Quiet Morning

Audio Podcast 4 1/2 minutes

As I sat on my front porch, the morning air crisp and the coffee steaming in my mug, I watched the world wake up, relishing the tranquility of this serene moment. The street was quiet, save for the soft chirping of sparrows flitting between the trees, their lively songs weaving a soft symphony that filled the stillness. Dew glistened on the grass, catching the first rays of sunlight like scattered diamonds, creating a shimmering carpet that invited the day to unfold. In the distance, the faint rustling of leaves hinted at the gentle breeze, carrying with it the aromatic scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, making each breath a reminder of nature’s rejuvenation. I felt a sense of peace wash over me as I took a sip from my mug, savoring the warmth that matched the gentle glow of dawn, and in that moment, I understood the beauty of simply being present.

Across the road, old Mr. Roberts shuffled out in his plaid slippers, retrieving his newspaper with a habitual grunt that echoed softly in the morning air. He paused for a moment, squinting at something in his garden, his brow furrowing in curiosity. I followed his gaze and saw it—a small, scruffy fox, its russet fur damp from the night’s dew, nosing cautiously around his rosebushes, clearly searching for something to eat. The creature seemed oblivious to the world around it, its attention wholly absorbed in its task. Suddenly, it froze, locking eyes with Mr. Roberts, who had been tending to his own garden nearby, the sunlight reflecting off his watering can. The fox stood still, tense and alert, before it made a split-second decision and darted off, a streak of fire vanishing into the hedge, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves and a lingering sense of wonder in the crisp morning air.

Moments later, a delivery van rumbled by its tires humming on the asphalt as if eager to explore the winding streets of our neighborhood. The driver, a young woman with a bright pink cap that seemed to glow under the afternoon sun, hopped out with a sense of urgency, dropping a package—carefully wrapped in cheerful brown paper—at the neighbor’s door. She waved at me with a friendly gesture, her smile quick but warm, before hastily getting back into her vehicle and speeding off, disappearing around the corner. A gentle breeze stirred, carrying the enchanting scent of blooming lilacs from Mrs. Pomeranian yard next door, where her tabby cat, Whiskers, prowled the porch railing with an air of feline authority, eyeing the sparrows with lazy menace, as if plotting a playful ambush while soaking up the golden rays of sunlight pouring down.

Then, something peculiar caught my attention. At the end of the street, where the pavement met the woods, a solitary figure stood—a child, perhaps ten years old, clad in a bright red hoodie that starkly contrasted with the muted hues of twilight. Clutched tightly in their small hand was a single blue balloon, vibrant and buoyant, swaying gently in the evening breeze. The balloon appeared almost luminescent against the backdrop of the encroaching darkness, an ethereal symbol of childhood joy and innocence. They remained motionless, their gaze fixed intently down the road, as if anticipating something or someone, an unwritten story unfolding in their young mind. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, and the sounds of the evening—a distant rustle of branches, the soft chirping of crickets—seemed to fade into a hush around this moment. The balloon bobbed softly, reflecting the waning sunlight and drawing my gaze like a signal, as though it held secrets waiting to be discovered. I blinked, and in that brief moment of darkness, they were gone, as though they had slipped into the mist that clung to the trees, disappearing into the encroaching shadows. I sipped my coffee, its warmth anchoring me amidst the surreal nature of the scene, contemplating whether I had conjured the vision or if the child had indeed existed, a fleeting specter lingering at the edge of my awareness, a haunting reminder of the fragile line between reality and the ethereal whispers of a fading day.

The morning rolled on, ordinary yet alive with small mysteries, each moment a thread in the tapestry of the day, weaving together the subtle scents of dew-kissed grass and the gentle rustle of leaves as the breeze danced through the trees. The sun, cautiously peeking above the horizon, painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, inviting the world to awaken from its slumber, while birds serenaded the dawn with their cheerful melodies, hinting at the adventures that lay ahead. Each tick of the clock echoed like a heartbeat, amplifying the feeling that life was teeming with possibilities, as the coffee brewed its rich aroma in the background, inviting those willing to savor the fleeting beauty of the morning.

This is a short story from Tales of TOMT 2.0 Book Two Can be purchased at Amazon. Link

Who Is TomT2.0? Discover His Journey

Just a refresher of who is TomT2.0?

https://tomt2.com/about-tom-t2-0/

Some may ask, who is Tom T 2.0? I was 2tts and I am sure not very many know the story behind Tom T 2.0. Therefore, I will give you a brief biography.

Born and raised in Denver Colorado, a long time ago. I was in my mother’s womb when Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese. I lived in the same home until after high school. Grandma, my mother’s mother lived with us and a brother. It was a small house, 864 sq ft. But it was home, and we all loved the home.

After high school I got a job with the company who was building the Titan ICBM missile for the government. There was the military draft during that time and was drafted maybe three or four years later. I then became a Viet Nam era veteran. I don’t know how this happened but the seven men I was drafted with went to Viet Nam and I was sent to Germany. I’m still proud that I served the country during that time.

After my military service I started working for a large television and electronics manufacturing company in their distribution of the products arm. I met my future wife, got married and have two sons with this relationship. Life was what every normal healthy male dream of. Unfortunately, this dream only lasts about eleven years. I became divorced and my job disappeared because the company was sold and closed thirteen distributing warehouses across the nation. Here I was mid-life, divorced and out of work.

For about five years I had many jobs, mostly temporary employment mainly because the unemployment rate was around seven percent. My parents also passed away during that time also. First, my mother with cancer and two years later my father from a heart attack. This was a tough period in my life.

Finally, I found permanent work in a high-tech environment where they used lasers to cut micro components used in the electronic industry. This was a very interesting position and I enjoyed working there. During that time, I also met my future wife and have been happily married for over thirty years now. We met after childbearing years, but she blessed me with two stepdaughters and two stepsons. I love them as much as my biological sons.

Around thirteen years later it was time to retire. That was seventeen years ago. Since my parents both passed away in their mid-seventies, I thought I would follow the legacy. I have passed this legacy by over five years, and I predict I will have many more years now since I experienced a near death experience around six months ago and survived. The doctors and lab tests all say there appears to be no long-term damage and the chances look good for many more years.

For many years I have been 2tts. After my near-death experience I feel that there is a purpose for this opportunity. Now I am Tom T 2.0. It has been close to eight months since the near-death experience, and I am still searching for the reason. Maybe this site is the opportunity I am looking for.

In conclusion, life has been good. I do not regret any part of my life, even the tough times. In the good times and the bad times, I always think, what did I learn from this experience and how will it make me be a better person?

Podcast of TomT 2.0

Video of TomT 2.0

My Surgery Tales

Me and Spirituality

I Will Never Forget

Peace

My Legacy

Just Be Myself

February 7, 2023

Cars in My Life

Cars in My Life video

My Blood Clot podcast

Meet Mr. Hypertype

Today, I decided to name my laptop. Not because it begged for a cute nickname, or because it aced a performance review. No, it was because November 21st shouted, “Go ahead, give it a name!” Who knew the calendar could be so bossy?

Meet Mr. Hypertype. He’s like a grumpy cat before coffee, shuts down faster than my phone battery amidst a crisis, and has a special talent for making me doubt my own memory—did I really hit ‘save’ or just dream I did? But hey, he’s my quirky little gremlin, and now that he’s got a name, I guess we’re officially a team!


So, if you haven’t given your gadget a name yet, now’s the time! Choose one that sparks joy, induces a dramatic sigh, or makes you facepalm. Today isn’t just about the ridiculousness of it all—it’s about bonding, even with our quirky little metal friends!

Embracing the Calm of November 20th

There’s something peculiar about November 20th. It’s not quite Thanksgiving, not yet the holiday rush. It’s the pause before the crescendo—the day that slips between the cracks of calendars and celebrations.

But maybe that’s its charm.

On this day, the trees are half-bare, like they’re undecided. The air carries a whisper of winter, but still smells faintly of fallen leaves. People start to speak in future tense: “We’ll get the turkey,” “We’ll decorate soon,” “We’ll slow down eventually.” But today? Today is still ours.

It’s a perfect day for small rebellions:

  • Write a letter to someone who wouldn’t expect it.
  • Take a walk without your phone.
  • Start a story with no ending in mind.

Because November 20th is a liminal space—a quiet spark before the storm. And sometimes, the most interesting things happen in the in-between.

Navigating Life with My Intuition
Daily writing prompt
Do you trust your instincts?
View all responses

Yes, I trust my instincts. Throughout my life, I attempted to make decisions against my immediate instincts, and many times, those decisions proved to be wrong, leading to missed opportunities and unwanted outcomes. This struggle between logic and intuition created a constant inner conflict, and I often found myself overanalyzing situations rather than embracing my gut feelings.

Unfortunately, it took me many years to acknowledge and trust my instincts fully. Now, I go by my instincts instead of second-guessing them, allowing myself to navigate life’s complexities with a newfound clarity.

Although this journey toward self-trust has been enlightening, I can’t help but reflect on the fact that I am now in my senior years, and the days of making major decisions are over. Nonetheless, I have learned that even in this stage of life, embracing my instincts continues to guide me, providing a sense of peace and certainty in a world that often feels overwhelming.

Aging and Health Challenges

Yes, I am indeed slowing down. At over eighty years of age, I have been retired since 2006. My journey on WordPress began in 2009, and I ventured onto Substack in 2023. However, I have ceased my postings on the Substack platform, as the responsibility of managing two sites became more akin to a job rather than an enlightening pursuit.

I faced a life-threatening ordeal over two and a half years ago due to a Pulmonary Saddle Embolism, which involves a critical blood clot situated between the lungs. Upon further investigation, I learned that the survival rate for this condition is shockingly low, ranging from three to five percent. I am profoundly thankful to be one of the few fortunate survivors. Recently, however, I received a diagnosis of arthritic degeneration in my lower back, a condition that severely restricts my ability to engage in activities I once relished.

My primary concern lies in my motivation and endurance. Recently, I have found it increasingly challenging to inspire myself to tackle various tasks. Furthermore, when I do engage in an activity, my endurance tends to be quite limited. I recently underwent a wellness exam, during which no serious issues were identified. My blood oxygen level was above 90, with a normal pulse rate and respiration; however, they extracted six vials of blood, whereas the standard procedure typically involves only three. The purpose of the additional three vials remains unclear to me. The results returned indicated all readings were within the normal range. Currently, my health condition remains an enigma.

In conclusion, I will be reducing the frequency of my posts on WordPress. On a positive note, this may be a temporary situation, and I hope that my motivation and endurance will eventually return to their prior levels.

Living in Denver Métro Area
Daily writing prompt
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
View all responses

I am happy where I am. Born and raised in Denver metro area. Been to Germany, Switzerland, Italy. Have been to most of the states including Hawaii. Ten years ago, we moved into our dream home. We are happy living in a suburb of Denver Colorado.

Building a Knife Collection

I have never found much in my life. However, a few years ago my wife and I went to a local restaurant for lunch. When I got out of the car I looked down and saw this knife laying on the pavement. I speculate someone lost it when they got in or out of their car.

When I got home and did an internet search on Ken Onion Design. The one I found that looked similar to the knife I found had a price of $132.00 and ranged from $70.00 to $300.00. I would never spend that much for a knife.

I am not much of a knife person. I never carried one for protection or self-defense. The largest knife I have ever used was a steak knife. I hated bayonet training in the army. It was so cave man.

Daily writing prompt
What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found (and kept)?
View all responses

This find motivated me to build a display case with all the knives I have collected in my life. Since I am retired, I am always looking for projects to do. Better than just having them lay in a drawer.

The Third Knock

Audio Podcast 8 1/2 minutes

When Clara moved into the old duplex on Sycamore Street, she felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. The landlord, an elderly gentleman with a knowing smile and twinkling eyes, gave her one important rule: “Never open the door after the third knock.” He didn’t elaborate further, but Clara could sense an underlying weight to his words, as if they held secrets tightly bound to the history of the house. Each time she heard a knock echoing through the hardwood floors late at night, she was reminded of his warning, stirring a curiosity that battled with her instincts to heed his advice. As the days passed, the duplex began to feel both inviting and ominous, a place where shadows flickered just out of sight, and the air crackled with unspoken stories waiting to unfold.

She laughed at the time, the sound echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The place was cheap, the neighborhood quiet, and the rule sounded like the kind of local superstition that came with creaky floorboards and drafty windows, whispers of tales hidden within the walls. It was the sort of belief that made the timid hesitate and the skeptical roll their eyes in disdain. With an adventurous spirit and a hint of rebellion, she signed the lease anyway, convinced that the charm of rustic living and the allure of mystery would outweigh any ghostly encounters lurking in the shadows. After all, every home held its secrets, and she was ready to uncover them.

The first night passed uneventfully. The second, she heard it—three knocks at 2:13 a.m. Sharp. Not loud, not frantic. Just… deliberate.

Knock.
Knock.
Knock.

She froze in bed, heart hammering against her ribs as she strained to hear even the faintest sound. No footsteps echoed in the hallway. No voice called out to her, offering reassurance or inviting her to respond. Just silence enveloped the room after the third knock, heavy and foreboding. The darkness felt suffocating, and her mind raced with possibilities. She didn’t open the door, paralyzed by a mix of fear and curiosity, wondering who could be on the other side and why they would come at this late hour.

The next morning, she asked her neighbor, an elderly woman named Mrs. Ellison, about it. The woman’s face drained of color, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “You heard it already?” she whispered, glancing nervously around as though the walls themselves might be listening. “It usually waits a week before it shows itself,” she added, her voice trembling slightly. The weight of unspoken words hung between them, and the atmosphere felt thick with an unshakeable tension, as Mrs. Ellison’s hands wrung a faded shawl tightly in her lap, revealing the depth of her concern.

Clara pressed for more, her curiosity bubbling over, but Mrs. Ellison only muttered, with a distant look in her eyes, “It’s not a person. It’s a promise.” The weight of those words lingered in the air, thick with unspoken truths, as Clara tried to decipher their meaning. What kind of promise could hold such significance? There was a palpable tension that filled the room, as if the very walls were guarding secrets that had long been tucked away, waiting for the right moment to be revealed.

That night, Clara stayed up, phone in hand, determined to record it. At 2:13 a.m., it came again.

Knock.
Knock.
Knock.

She crept to the door and peered through the peephole, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. No one was there. Just the porch light flickering irregularly, casting eerie shadows that danced on the walls of the dimly lit hallway. She held her breath, straining to hear any sound outside, hoping for a sign that she was not alone, but only the faint rustling of leaves reached her ears, deepening her unease.

She posted the audio online, eager to share her excitement with the world. However, to her dismay, people began to say it was fake, dismissing her efforts before even listening fully. One user, seemingly concerned, messaged her privately: “Don’t open it. Not even a crack. It learns your voice.” This cryptic warning sent a chill down her spine, making her question the very nature of what she had uploaded and the implications it might have for her safety and privacy. Uncertain of what to do next, she pondered over the mysterious message, her mind racing with possibilities of what the audio could truly represent and who might be watching.

On the fourth night, the knocks came earlier—1:47 a.m.—and louder.

KNOCK.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.

She screamed, “Go away!” and the knocking stopped abruptly, echoing in the silence that followed. But the next morning, her front doormat was gone, vanished without a trace. In its place: a small, wet footprint imprinted in the mud, its details unmistakably distinct. Bare. Child-sized, as if a small child had innocently wandered onto her porch during the night, leaving behind a hint of mystery that sent chills down her spine. The air felt thick with an unshakeable tension, as she scanned the surroundings, half-expecting to see a figure lurking just beyond her line of sight, hidden among the shadows of the early morning light.

By the sixth night, she was sleeping with the lights on, the soft glow casting long shadows across her room. The knocks came at 12:03 a.m. this time, precise and unsettling, echoing through the silence of the house. Heart pounding in her chest, she lay frozen in bed, listening intently. After the third knock, a chill ran down her spine as she heard a whisper through the door, thin and eerie, like a breath carried on the wind. It seemed to call her name, weaving an unsettling spell that wrapped around her thoughts, compelling her to confront whatever lay beyond the threshold. Doubt and fear clashed within her, leaving her torn between the safety of her sanctuary and the inexplicable pull of the unknown.

“Clara…”

She hadn’t told anyone her name.

She moved a chair under the doorknob to secure the door and called the landlord, her hands trembling slightly as she pressed the phone to her ear. He didn’t answer, leaving her feeling increasingly anxious and alone. With her heart racing, she decided to call the police for assistance, hoping they would be able to bring her some peace of mind. When the officers arrived, they carefully canvassed the apartment, finding no prints, no signs of forced entry, which only deepened her sense of unease. But as the officer paused before leaving, a concerned look crossed his face, and he turned back to her, as if sensing the gravity of her fear and uncertainty.

“You’re in 3B, right?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. “That’s the unit where the girl disappeared last year, you know. Same story as before – strange sounds echoing in the night, whispers of something lurking just beyond the walls. They said she reported hearing persistent knocks, like someone was trying to get her attention. Then, one fateful night, in a moment of brave foolishness or perhaps sheer desperation, she opened the door, seeking answers to the unsettling mystery that surrounded her.”

Clara didn’t sleep that night. She sat in the hallway, staring at the door, knife in hand.

At 11:59 p.m., the first knock came.

KNOCK.

She held her breath.

KNOCK.

The doorknob twitched.

KNOCK.

She screamed, her voice echoing through the dimly lit hallway. But this time, the door creaked open—just a sliver, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond that seemed to pulse with an ominous energy. She hadn’t touched it, her heart racing in her chest as she felt a chill crawl down her spine, the air thick with tension as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting for what might come next.

A hand, pale and too long, reached through the gap, its fingers stretching out like brittle vines in search of something unseen, curling as if beckoning the darkness closer, while the remnants of a cold breeze whispered eerie secrets around it, reminding one that every shadow held a story waiting to be unearthed.

She slammed the door shut, locked it, and ran to the bedroom, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. But the window was open, flapping slightly in the cool night air. She hadn’t opened it; the last thing she remembered was ensuring everything was securely closed before the unsettling noises had started. Now, she hesitated, caught between the urge to escape and the instinct to investigate the peculiar situation that had crept into her once safe haven.

The last thing she saw before the lights went out was a small, wet footprint on her pillow.

What happened after that? Let your imagination run wild.

Veterans Day.

Audio Podcast 3 minutes.

Celebrated this year on Tuesday, November 11, this holiday honors the significant contributions and sacrifices made by veterans. It is a full holiday for federal offices, banks, and many businesses, resulting in closures that allow individuals to reflect on the importance of service and sacrifice. On this day, no mail delivery occurs, providing a moment of pause for the nation to appreciate the freedoms we enjoy, and various events may be held throughout communities to commemorate and celebrate the bravery of those who have served in the armed forces.

Originally called Armistice Day, proclaimed in 1919 by President Woodrow Wilson to mark the end of World War I on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, this significant day was intended to honor the bravery and sacrifices of those who fought in this monumental conflict. Over the years, as the nation recognized the myriad contributions of all its military veterans, it became clear that a broader celebration was necessary to reflect the valor demonstrated throughout various conflicts. This led to its renaming to Veterans Day in 1954 by President Dwight D. Eisenhower, aimed at honoring veterans of all wars, allowing Americans to pay tribute not only to those who served in World War I but also to honor the service and sacrifices of past and current military personnel from every branch of the armed forces. This day serves as a poignant reminder of the cost of freedom and the importance of expressing gratitude to those who have dedicated their lives to serving the nation.

Veterans Day honors all veterans who have served in the military, recognizing their sacrifices and commitment to defending our freedoms; in contrast, Memorial Day, celebrated on the last Monday in May, specifically honors those brave men and women who gave their lives in service to our country, remembering their ultimate sacrifice and the impact they made on our nation’s history, as families and communities gather to pay their respects and express gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy today.

Thank a veteran personally. Being a veteran, I know how much a personal interaction means, as it fosters a sense of connection and appreciation that can sometimes feel absent in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Taking the time to express gratitude through a simple thank-you or engaging in a heartfelt conversation can have a profound impact. It not only honors their sacrifices but also reinforces their sense of belonging to a community that values their service. Your acknowledgment can uplift their spirits and show them that their contributions are recognized and valued.

Fly the U.S. flag proudly, representing the values and ideals that our nation stands for. It serves as a symbol of the sacrifices made by countless individuals who fought for our freedom and democracy. Whether displayed at homes, schools, or public buildings, the flag reminds us of our responsibility to uphold the principles of liberty and justice for all, uniting us in our shared identity as Americans.

How Pets Enhance Your Life
Daily writing prompt
What is good about having a pet?
View all responses

Having a pet can significantly enhance your physical, emotional, and social well-being, creating a profound impact on your daily life. Pets offer companionship, providing unconditional love and support that can help alleviate feelings of loneliness and isolation. Furthermore, studies have shown that interacting with pets can reduce stress levels by triggering the release of feel-good hormones, such as oxytocin, which promotes relaxation. The presence of a furry friend can even contribute to better heart health by encouraging regular physical activity, such as walking or playing, which lowers blood pressure and reduces the risk of heart disease. As you bond with your pet, you also open doors to social interactions, whether it be meeting fellow pet owners at the park or participating in community events, fostering a sense of belonging and enhancing your overall quality of life.

While pets offer many benefits, such as companionship, emotional support, and opportunities for exercise and social interaction, they also require a significant investment of time, money, and emotional energy. Caring for a pet involves daily responsibilities, including feeding, grooming, and exercise, which can be demanding for busy individuals or families. Additionally, not everyone experiences the same positive effects from having pets; for some, the presence of animals may inadvertently increase stress levels due to various factors, including high energy needs or behavioral issues. Furthermore, certain individuals may be susceptible to allergies triggered by pet dander, fur, or even saliva, which can complicate the joy of pet ownership. Ultimately, it’s essential to consider both the rewarding aspects and the potential drawbacks of welcoming a furry friend into your life.

I had many pets. One was a turtle. This was in the day they used to paint the shells of the turtles. Goldfish, they were kind of boring. I won a baby duck at a bazaar once and it was a terrific pet one summer. When fall came and we didn’t have a place to keep it, my parents gave it to a needy family, and they had it for thanksgiving. I didn’t find out until many years later. Many cats, Sandy, Jughead, Boots, Lucy and others that I can’t think of. No dogs though, because we didn’t have a fenced yard. I made sure my sons had dogs when they grew up. You can become very attached to pets and they feel like part of the family. The loyalty a pet shows is priceless.

Buyer’s Remorse
Daily writing prompt
Name the most expensive personal item you’ve ever purchased (not your home or car).
View all responses

This was a leather jacket I purchased during a trip to Italy in 2007. Nice jacket, but for six hundred dollars? I now have buyer’s remorse for this out of extraordinary event for me. Where was my common sense?

Why Fridays Feel So Special

Audio Podcast 3 minutes

Fridays have a special charm. They mark not just the end of the workweek, but the start of new possibilities. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air as people feel relieved and eager for the weekend. With each passing hour, the mood lifts, as thoughts turn to weekend plans, hanging out with friends, or enjoying some relaxation. This change in energy fosters connections, with shared smiles among strangers and renewed teamwork among coworkers, all ready to embrace the joy the weekend brings. Ultimately, Fridays offer a reminder of hope and the chance to unwind and discover what truly makes us happy.

From the moment we wake up, Friday feels special. The coffee tastes better, filling the air with warmth, while the commute seems easier, as if the world is inviting us to celebrate the weekend. Even the inbox feels less stressful, as we look forward to a break from work. Why? Because Friday represents freedom. It’s a promise of rest, fun, connection, and creativity—a reminder that the week’s stresses are fading away. Plans start to take shape as we think of friends and family, and every conversation shines with excitement for what’s to come. Whether it’s a cozy night in or an impromptu outing, Friday opens the door to new possibilities, allowing our dreams and aspirations to grow.

Friday allows us to relax and get excited for the weekend. It’s a day when we start thinking about our plans, whether that’s taking spontaneous road trips, enjoying cozy movie nights, or simply sleeping in to catch up on rest. As 5 PM approaches, we dream of the adventures ahead, the fun times with friends at happy hour, or the peaceful moments with a good book. It’s a chance to unwind and appreciate the simple pleasures of Fridays, reminding us of the work-life balance we seek.

Fridays remind us that life is not only about work but also about finding balance. They prompt us to reflect on our week, appreciate our progress, and look ahead with hope. It’s a chance to celebrate small achievements, nurture relationships, reconnect with ourselves, practice self-care, and recharge for upcoming challenges with renewed energy and enthusiasm.

Even if the week was tough, Friday offers a reset. It’s proof that time moves forward, and so do we.

Fridays are not just any day—they’re like the grand finale of a week-long soap opera where the coffee is finally strong enough to fry an egg! They come waving a flag that reads, “Joy is just around the corner, folks!” As we throw our calendars in the air, excitement bubbles like a shaken soda can, transforming the mundane into a party. It’s the day where we bench-press our plans and share a feast of laughs over questionable takeout or wild adventures that may or may not involve getting lost. So here’s to the glorious chaos of Fridays: a day that turns our ‘meh’ into ‘heck yeah,’ reminding us to embrace life with open arms, celebrate every tiny win like we just discovered a new pizza topping, and create legendary memories that we’ll forget by Monday!

Autumn’s Call to Reflect and Grow

Audio Podcast 3 1/2 minutes

Autumn is not just about colorful leaves and warm clothes — it’s a time for change that encourages us to welcome new beginnings. As nature shifts from bright summer colors to softer tones, it invites us to reflect on our own lives. November 6th, sitting between Halloween and Thanksgiving, is a great moment to pause and appreciate the beauty around us. This season promotes introspection and encourages us to think about our journeys and the changes we go through. The air becomes cooler, signaling a transition not just in seasons but also a reminder to be mindful as we look toward winter. It’s a time to value small moments, connect with loved ones, and possibly set goals for the new year, finding joy in both endings and fresh starts.

Just as trees shed their leaves to prepare for winter, we too can release what no longer serves us. This might mean decluttering your physical space, reevaluating commitments, or simply letting go of outdated beliefs that no longer resonate with our true selves. It could involve assessing friendships and relationships that drain our energy and considering whether they uplift us or hold us back. Ask yourself: What am I holding onto that’s weighing me down? Reflecting on these aspects can lead to powerful realizations and the opportunity to create a more meaningful existence. Letting go isn’t about loss — it’s about making room for growth, allowing new opportunities and experiences to enter, fostering personal development and rejuvenation as we embrace the changes ahead.

The slower pace of fall encourages reflection. With shorter days and cooler weather, we naturally look inward, making it a good time for personal growth. This season allows us to embrace change and adapt our thoughts and feelings. Use this time to reconnect with your values and goals, letting autumn’s stillness help you understand yourself better. Activities like journaling, meditation, or quiet walks through fallen leaves can help you focus on what matters while enjoying the beauty around you. As the landscape changes, let your thoughts evolve, guiding you toward intentional actions in the future.

While spring symbolizes rebirth, autumn serves as a quieter time of preparation, where nature slows down and reflects. It’s an opportunity to plant seeds in your mind and spirit for future growth. As days shorten and the air cools, take a moment to set intentions for the person you wish to become in the new year. Consider the habits you want to develop, like reading, exercising, or practicing mindfulness. Think about the relationships you want to nurture and those you may need to strengthen or let go. This autumn, take the chance to prepare for the growth that spring will bring and build a solid foundation for your goals.

There’s something wonderfully comforting about fall rituals — lighting candles (without setting anything on fire), enjoying warm drinks topped with whipped cream, and gathering with loved ones to share laughter and stories that are probably exaggerated, all while staying cozy under blankets as the chill in the air drives us indoors. These simple pleasures, like indulging in a homemade pie that seems to call your name or taking a leisurely stroll through the colorful leaves, can be surprisingly uplifting for your mind and soul. Embrace them; appreciate the warmth (both literal and from the oversized sweater you call “vintage”) that these rituals bring during this changing season. Let November 6th be a day to appreciate slowing down, lament the impending disappearance of pumpkin spice lattes, and enjoy the moment as you cherish simple joys (like finishing the last piece of pie) with those around you, fully engaging in the delightful chaos of the season.

The Need for More Time

Yes, I need time; I am over eighty, but I feel an undeniable urgency for more time to accomplish the things that still linger on my to-do list. Two and a half years ago, I experienced a near-death experience that profoundly changed my perspective on life and survival. Since then, I have reevaluated my priorities and realized that there are countless stories yet to be told, relationships to nurture, and dreams that beckon my attention. I am still not finished with all that I wish to achieve, and as each day passes, my desire for more time grows stronger. I need more time to embrace life fully and make every moment count.

Daily writing prompt
Do you need time?
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Reflections on Aging and Life

Daily writing prompt
What will your life be like in three years?
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The question of the day is where will I be in three years? Since I am over eighty, my time on earth may be over by then, yet I also find myself pondering the legacy I will leave behind. Each passing day offers me new insights, and I often reflect on the myriad experiences I’ve had throughout my life. Will I be surrounded by loved ones, sharing stories and laughter, or will I find peace in solitude, reminiscing about the moments that defined me? The uncertainty of life is both daunting and exhilarating, and it encourages me to cherish every fleeting moment while exploring what might still lie ahead.

If my time is not over, my life could stay the same as it is today, full of joy and challenges that shape me. Each day offers a chance to grow and learn, helping me connect with others. I find comfort in my routines but also welcome the unknown, knowing each moment is valuable and can lead to new adventures. As I face life’s complexities, I stay hopeful for the future while appreciating the present.

Or I could undergo a profound medical event that significantly changes my circumstances, necessitating an extended period in an assisted living facility where I would require assistance with daily tasks and medical attention. This unforeseen development may compel me to adjust to a new environment, amid others confronting their own adversities, as we navigate the intricate realities of aging and health together, exchanging narratives and forging connections that could ultimately enhance the experience during such a challenging period.

I have a feeling my writing journey won’t be a blockbuster anytime soon—when was the last time I got applause for my grocery list? I doubt I’ll wake up as a famous author with piles of money and a fan club like rock stars. But dreaming is free, right? I can imagine a future where my words connect with readers, where my stories touch their hearts, and where I inspire others through storytelling. Sure, reality seems far from my dreams now, but I hold onto the hope that with persistence, creativity, and passion, my aspirations might come true in surprising ways, lighting my path with hopes of success (or at least a good review from my wife)!

Whatever happens, I have had led a successful life and do not regret or feel guilty about anything I have done. I have embraced opportunities that came my way, allowing me to grow and evolve as a person. Each decision, be it right or wrong, has shaped my journey and contributed to the rich tapestry of my experiences. I have cherished moments of joy and faced disappointing challenges head-on, learning valuable lessons along the way. The friendships I nurtured and the love I shared are irreplaceable treasures that I hold close to my heart. In every adventure, both big and small, I found purpose and connection, leading me to a life filled with meaning and fulfillment.

If all goes well, I will be here blogging for many years and sharing my “Comments About Anything”.

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The Night Airwaves Changed Forever

AUDIO PODCAST 4 1/2 minutes

November 3, 1956. 7:30 p.m. Eastern Time. A smooth, velvet voice glides through millions of living rooms across America. A Black man in a sharp suit, seated at a grand piano, smiles into the camera and says, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to The Nat King Cole Show.”

For fifteen minutes every week, the world paused. It wasn’t just a variety show. It was a revolution in prime time. A Voice That Crossed Color Lines. By 1956, Nat King Cole was already a household name. His 1940s hits “Straighten Up and Fly Right”,” The Christmas Song”, “Mona Lisa” had sold millions. He was the first African American artist to top the Billboard charts. His voice was in jukeboxes, on radios, in living rooms from Harlem to Hollywood. But television? That was white space. No Black performer had ever hosted a national network TV series. The closest had been guest spots brief, polite, and always on someone else’s show.

Then came NBC. The Show That Shouldn’t Have Worked. The Nat King Cole Show was simple: Nat at the piano. Guest stars. A small orchestra. No laugh track. No gimmicks. Just music. Just class. The guests were legendary: Ella Fitzgerald trading scat lines with Nat Tony Bennett and Pearl Bailey, Harry Belafonte. Even Frank Sinatra dropped by. White stars, black stars together, on equal footing. And America watched. The Ratings Were Great. The Sponsors Were Not. Here’s the cruel twist. The show was a hit. Critics loved it. Viewers tuned in. But no national sponsor would touch it. Ad agencies feared backlash from Southern affiliates. One executive reportedly said: “We can’t sell toothpaste with a Negro on the screen.” Local sponsors in the North supported it. But without national backing, NBC couldn’t afford to keep it. The End Came Quietly After 64 episodes, Nat King Cole canceled his own show on July 27, 1957. He didn’t rage. He didn’t protest. He just said: “Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark.” That line became legend.

 A Door Cracked Open the Nat King Cole Show lasted only nine months. But it broke the seal. Within a decade: Diahann Carroll starred in Julia (1968) first Black woman in a lead TV role. Bill Cosby co-starred in I Spy (1965) — first Black actor in a dramatic lead. Flip Wilson got his own variety show (1970) and it topped the ratings. None of that would have happened without Nat.  

The Man Behind the Milestone Nat King Cole wasn’t an activist. He didn’t march. He didn’t shout. He just showed up. Sang beautifully. Smiled warmly. And let excellence do the talking. In 1956, that was radical. Today Clips survive on YouTube. Search: Nat King Cole Show 1956” You’ll see him sing “When I Fall in Love” with a smile that could melt ice. You’ll see Ella and Nat riff like old friends. You’ll see America before it was ready.  Legacy in One Line. He didn’t demand a seat at the table. He built the table. And then he sang at it. November 3, 1956, wasn’t just a premiere. It was a declaration. And now, the music still plays. Listen to “Unforgettable” tonight. Thank Nat King Cole. He opened the door and left it wide open.

Contrary to what some say, this country has come a long way in racial acceptance, showcasing significant progress in various aspects of society, including education, employment opportunities, and representation in politics. Over recent decades, we have witnessed a growing acknowledgment of diversity as a strength, leading to more inclusive policies and initiatives that promote understanding among different cultural groups. This evolution reflects a collective effort to confront and dismantle systemic racism, encouraging dialogue and fostering community engagements that embrace the rich variety of backgrounds that define our nation. Despite ongoing challenges, these strides toward acceptance signal a hopeful journey toward unity and equality for all.

One of my favorite songs is “Unforgettable” with Nat and Natalie. They made a terrific song into a priceless rendition. Click for the song