What are five simple exercises to do at home?
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- Keep your mouth shut
- Put dishes in dishwasher instead of sink
- Push the chair back to the dining table
- Give her the remote
- Don’t burp or pass gas
Life will be much simpler
Month: September 2026
This Relationship Taught Me to be Myself
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Daily writing prompt Which relationship has taught you the most about yourself?
The best relationship I have ever been in is the one I’ve been in since the early 1980s. We met in a divorce support group, of all places, and slowly became more than just friends. At first, we were simply two people trying to figure out what went wrong, trading stories about lawyers, paperwork, and awkward silences at the dinner table. Somewhere between the coffee breaks and the group exercises, we realized we were actually looking forward to seeing each other each week. Over time, the conversations stretched beyond heartbreak and into everyday life—our favorite movies, the music we grew up with, the foods we couldn’t stand, and the quiet hopes we weren’t ready to say out loud to anyone else. We laughed at ourselves, at the irony of meeting someone wonderful in a room full of people picking up the pieces. What started as mutual support turned into genuine companionship, and then, almost shyly, into love. After ten years of building a life side by side—sharing holidays, bills, bad haircuts, and the occasional disagreement about how to load the dishwasher—we decided to take the big leap again and get married. It wasn’t a whirlwind this time; it was a thoughtful choice made with eyes wide open, shaped by everything we had already survived. Both of our divorces had come as a painful shock, something we never imagined would happen when we first said our vows all those years before. We truly believed in the saying, “until death do us part,” and it was heartbreaking to watch that promise unravel. Yet, standing together with all that history behind us, we made that promise again—this time with a deeper understanding of how fragile and precious it really is. Our relationship has been stitched together with honesty, resilience, shared laughter, and the kind of comfort that comes from knowing someone has seen you at your worst and still chooses you. It’s not a fairy tale, but it is, in its own imperfect and quietly humorous way, the best love story I could have hoped for.
We have now been together for over forty years, and we allow each other to be ourselves. The masks and secrets have been removed. I never imagined that anyone would allow me to be “just myself”. It is great and this I have learned about myself.
When the Trees Put on Their Sunday Best
Every year, just as summer finally loosens its grip and the last heat waves wobble off the pavement, the local stations start chirping about “leaf peeping”—a phrase that sounds halfway between a nature hobby and something you’d get scolded for in grade school. But around here, it’s become the unofficial name for that brief, golden window when the trees decide to show off, trading their tired greens for wild streaks of red, orange, and gold. Overnight, the hills look freshly painted, country roads turn into slow-motion parades of brake lights and camera phones, and even the most stubborn indoor types suddenly remember they “love the outdoors.” For a couple of weeks, the whole place feels like it’s been dialed up a notch, as if the landscape is in on the joke and determined to go out in a blaze of color before winter draws the curtain.
The foothills turn into a slow‑motion fireworks display: aspens flickering like candle flames and whispering in the cool air, maples shifting from shy yellow to full‑throated red with a kind of quiet swagger, cottonwoods glowing like lanterns at dusk and tossing down crisp leaves that crunch under your boots. The air smells faintly of woodsmoke and cold river, the sky goes that sharp, impossible blue, and even the most practical folks—the ones who swear they don’t have time for “all that scenic stuff”—find themselves pulling over on the side of the road, coffee cooling in the cup holder, just to sit there and stare for a minute longer than they meant to.
Leaf peeping isn’t really about the leaves, though. It’s about the pause—the way you suddenly notice the chill on the air, the smell of woodsmoke drifting from somewhere you can’t quite see, the crunch of last week’s leaves under your boots. It’s the reminder that change can be beautiful, that endings can be colorful, a little dramatic, even oddly comforting, and that nature still knows how to throw a party without asking anyone’s permission or checking anyone’s calendar first.
So, if you catch yourself lingering a little longer on the porch, breathing in the cool air and listening to the leaves rustle like quiet applause, or taking the long way home just to see what the trees are up to and how the light spills through them, congratulations—you’re officially a leaf peeper. Around here, that’s practically a badge of honor, like being part of a secret club that meets wherever the maples and aspens decide to put on a show.
Karma, Soulmates, Timing, and Inner Growth
Yes, is believe there is karma
Some people talk about karma like it’s a cosmic scoreboard, but I’ve always seen it as something gentler—more like the quiet way life nudges us toward the people and lessons we’re ready for. Every choice we make sends out a ripple, and sooner or later, those ripples circle back in the form of experiences, opportunities, or the occasional surprise visitor who feels strangely familiar. Karma isn’t about reward or punishment. It’s about connection, timing, and growth.
Soulmates fit neatly into that picture. They’re the people who step into our lives with a kind of instant recognition, as if we’ve been picking up a conversation that started long before we met. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they don’t, but their impact lingers either way. Maybe that’s karma at work—bringing us the exact person we need for the chapter we’re in, whether to teach us, steady us, or remind us of who we are at our best.
In the end, believing in karma makes these encounters feel less random and more meaningful. It turns the people we meet into part of a larger story, one where every connection has purpose and every moment has something to teach. And honestly, that’s a pretty comforting way to walk through the world.
Writing for Fun in Retirement
I’ve never really figured out what to write so people will actually read it. I’ve checked out a bunch of websites that promise to boost views and followers, but once you read the fine print, it turns out you’ve got to pay for their services. I’m doing this for fun, not to build or change a career. I’ve been retired for over twenty years, and I’m way past the point of looking for a new job. So I just write whatever pops into my head. That’s why my motto is “Comments about everything.” I’ve noticed that writing about the daily writing prompts gets me the most views, likes, and replies. For me, this is all just about having fun and enjoying myself.
The Day a Reckless Driver Almost Erased Me
A long time ago I was driving down this street in an industrial section, doing maybe 35 miles an hour. It was one of those wide, empty roads lined with gray warehouses and chain-link fences, the kind of place where the air smells like oil and hot asphalt. I had the window cracked, one hand on the wheel, not really thinking about anything, just watching the traffic light up ahead.
Out of nowhere, this car shoots out of a parking lot between two buildings and slices right across my lane, like I’m not even there. No blinker, no pause, just full send. My brain barely has time to process what I’m seeing—just this flash of metal and tires—before pure panic kicks in.
I yank the wheel hard, this drastic, stupid turn I wouldn’t normally make, tires squealing loud enough to echo off the concrete walls. For a split second, everything narrows down to that one moment: my front bumper, his rear quarter panel, and this tiny, shrinking space in between. I can actually hear the loose stuff in my car sliding across the seat and thumping against the door.
I miss him by inches—like, honest-to-God inches. If I’d blinked a half-second longer, I would’ve nailed him. My heart is punching through my chest, my hands are locked on the wheel, and there’s that weird buzzing in my ears you get when the adrenaline spikes.
I slam on the brakes and come to a stop right there in the middle of the street, just trying to get my breathing under control, hands shaking so hard I can see my fingers twitching. I sit there for a second, replaying it in my head, realizing how easily that could’ve gone bad—airbags, tow trucks, cops, maybe worse.
And this idiot? He doesn’t even tap his brakes. No look in the mirror, no wave, no “my bad”—nothing. He just keeps going like he didn’t almost turn my day, and maybe my life, into a complete nightmare.
My Daily Practice of Self-Care
I make a point to review my day before I go to sleep. I ask myself what I did right, where I could have handled things better, and what moments I might have rushed past without really noticing. I think about how I spoke to people, how I reacted when I was stressed, and whether my choices lined up with the kind of person I want to be. This helps me end the day with a little more honesty and a little more compassion for myself, instead of just scrolling or distracting myself until I’m tired. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I give myself some time with me. I sit with my thoughts instead of fighting them, noticing what’s really on my mind—what I’m worried about, what I’m excited for, or what still feels unresolved. Sometimes I breathe slowly and let my body relax, sometimes I replay a conversation, and sometimes I just listen to the quiet. It’s a small, private space in the dark where I can check in with myself and gently reset before I fall back asleep.
The Otherworld That Felt Like Home
Four years ago, I had a near-death experience. Laying there on the operating table, certain my life was over, I remember thinking, “This is the end,” and then I went somewhere else. I like to imagine I was in a kind of waiting room, suspended between the surgeons trying to bring me back and whatever comes after this life. The feeling I had there was unlike anything I have ever known on this earth, before or since. That feeling was “PEACE, TOTAL PEACE!” That feeling was GREAT!
That is the place that felt like home.
Writing Later in Life
Daily writing prompt
What’s one thing you wish you had started doing earlier in life?
I wish I would have started writing seriously long before I retired. For most of my working life, the idea that I could be “a writer” felt like something other people did—people with more talent, more time, or more confidence. I dabbled here and there, but I never gave myself permission to really lean into it. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t until a couple of years before I left my job that I finally started putting words down on a regular basis. I began blogging on a local newspaper’s website, tentatively at first, half-expecting no one to notice or care. To my surprise, they actually selected some of my articles and printed them in the Thursday paper. I can’t pretend that didn’t make my ego sit up and pay attention. Every time the editor picked one of my pieces, it felt like a little stamp of approval I hadn’t even realized I’d been craving. I’d go to the store on Thursdays and pick up the paper, pretending I was just casually flipping through, when what I was really doing was hunting for my own byline. Then, every so often, a stranger would come up to me and say they’d read my article and enjoyed it, or that it made them think, or that they’d cut it out and saved it. Those moments caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to being seen that way. It felt good—uncomfortably good, in fact—and as much as I joke about having my ego fed, the truth is those small encounters helped me start to believe I might actually have something worth saying.
After I retired, though, I sort of drifted. Without the structure of a job, the days got quieter, and so did I. I became somewhat dormant and didn’t write much at all. It was easier to put it off and tell myself I’d “get back to it soon” than to actually sit down and face the empty page. Then I had a near-death experience that shook me far more than I admitted at the time. Lying there afterward, realizing how close I’d come to not having any more “laters,” it dawned on me that all the words I kept meaning to write could just as easily go unwritten.
That wake-up call nudged me back toward writing with a different kind of urgency. I found my way to WordPress again and slowly became more active there, posting my thoughts, my stories, and the little observations from everyday life. The more I wrote, the more I realized how much I needed it—not just as a hobby, but almost as a way of sorting through my own mind. Somewhere along the way, those blog posts turned into books. I now have fifteen of them out in the world on Amazon. I don’t kid myself; I’m well aware I’ll never be on any best-seller list, and I don’t wake up expecting fame or fortune. But knowing that someone, somewhere, might be reading my words on a quiet evening or over their morning coffee is deeply satisfying. Writing has become a steady companion for me, something that gives shape and meaning to my days, and I plan to keep going as long as my brain cooperates and my fingers can still find the keys.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how different my life might have been if I had started writing when I was younger, when there was still plenty of time to steer my career in another direction. Maybe I would have pursued journalism, or tried my hand at fiction earlier, or simply taken myself more seriously as a creative person. I imagine there could have been a whole other version of my working life to look back on and share—one built around deadlines and manuscripts instead of whatever my old job asked of me. But the older I get, the more I realize that regretting lost time doesn’t actually give me any more of it. What I do have is now, and now happens to be filled with blog posts, books, and the quiet joy of finally doing something that feels like it fits. In a strange way, starting late has become part of my story. I write with the awareness that I almost didn’t, that I almost let the opportunity slip by. That awareness makes each page, each post, and each small connection with a reader feel like a gift I might have missed. So while I might always wonder about the life I could have had if I’d begun earlier, I’m grateful for the writing life I do have—and I intend to keep adding chapters to it for as long as I’m here to tell the tale.
TomT2.0 Magazines; Audio Podcasts and Full PDF Views
Stop by and view the newly updated page of my magazines, where you’ll discover a wealth of engaging content. There are currently 19 issues available, each packed with valuable insights and captivating stories. Every issue not only features a beautifully designed layout but also includes an audio podcast that brings the articles to life, allowing you to listen on the go. Additionally, you can access a PDF file for each issue, enabling you to view the entire magazine in a comprehensive format that’s perfect for reading at your leisure. Explore all the exciting topics covered and immerse yourself in the world of my publications.
The Night the Chair Wasn’t Empty
No wonder I lay awake sometimes at night unable to go back to sleep.
He woke at 2:17 a.m.—not because of a noise, not because of a dream, but because something in the room had shifted. The air felt thinner, as if the house had paused its breathing.
For a moment he lay still, listening. The night was holding itself very carefully. No wind. No refrigerator hum. Even the old clock in the hallway seemed to have stopped ticking, as though time itself had stepped out to stretch its legs.
He swung his feet to the floor. The boards were cool, but not cold. He felt as though he had stepped into someone else’s room, a place that looked like his but wasn’t quite aligned with the version he knew.
The hallway was darker than usual. Not pitch black—more like the darkness had texture, a soft grain to it, like velvet. He walked toward the living room, guided by a faint glow he couldn’t place. It wasn’t moonlight. It wasn’t any lamp he owned. It was more like the room itself was remembering light.
And then he saw it.
A figure sat in his favorite chair. Not threatening, not even fully solid—just a presence, shaped like a person but made of the same faint glow that had drawn him in. It looked comfortable, almost at home, as if it had been waiting for him to wake up.
He didn’t speak. Somehow he knew words would scatter the moment like birds.
The figure lifted its head. Its face was indistinct, but he felt the weight of its attention. Not heavy—more like recognition. As though it knew him from somewhere he couldn’t recall.
Slowly, it raised one hand and pointed toward the window.
He turned.
Outside, the world was washed in silver. Not moonlight—something softer, more deliberate. The trees stood perfectly still, their leaves suspended as if caught mid‑rustle. The street was empty, but not lonely. It felt… expectant.
When he looked back, the figure was gone. The chair was just a chair again.
The house exhaled.
The refrigerator hummed back to life. The hallway clock resumed its ticking. The darkness lost its velvet texture and became ordinary shadow.
He stood there for a long moment, letting the normal world settle around him again. Whatever had visited him—whatever had nudged him awake—it hadn’t meant harm. It had simply wanted him to see something. Or remember something. Or maybe just know that the night held more than sleep.
He returned to bed, feeling oddly peaceful. As he drifted off, he thought he heard the faintest whisper of that silver glow, like a curtain being drawn across a window.
When he woke in the morning, everything was ordinary again.
But he kept glancing at the chair, wondering if the night would ever pause its breathing for him again.
I am going to stop eating a banana before I go to bed.
Is AI Easing or Eroding Creativity?
Around the first of last year I discovered AI, (artificial intelligence) and found out that it became very easy for me to assemble an article. I could come up with a few ideas and then consult AI and ask to expand on those ideas. In a matter of seconds, Boom! An instant article that was always near twice the length I ever came up with…… AI would really fluff up an idea.
Couldn’t think of something to write about? Just ask AI and poof! There are twenty or more writing prompts for you. Pick a prompt and AI easily creates a story for you. Wow! This is really becoming simple.
Unfortunately, I now feel that this is not me. I now feel that I am just an outlet for some unnamed artificial intelligence. AI has made me lazy. It has become difficult for me to get the creative juices flowing without AI. The above is me without AI.
This is the same with AI
Around the first of this year I discovered AI, (artificial intelligence) and found out that it became very easy for me to assemble an article. I could come up with a few ideas and then consult AI and ask to expand on those ideas, which opened up a whole new realm of creativity. With just a simple prompt, I could engage the AI in a dialogue, exploring different angles and perspectives that I might not have considered on my own. In a matter of seconds, Boom! An instant article that was always near twice the length I ever came up with. This technology was not just about word count; it was about the depth and breadth of information that it could provide, transforming a mere concept into a comprehensive piece of writing. AI would really fluff up an idea, adding layers of detail and nuance, turning my initial thoughts into a well-rounded discussion that was informative and engaging for readers.
Couldn’t think of something to write about? Just ask AI and poof! There are twenty or more writing prompts for you, carefully designed to spark your creativity and help you break through writer’s block. Pick a prompt, and AI easily creates a story for you, crafting engaging plots and dynamic characters that come to life right before your eyes. Whether you’re looking for inspiration for a novel, a short story, or even just a whimsical tale, the possibilities are endless. Wow! This is really becoming simple, as technology transforms the writing process into an effortless and enjoyable adventure, allowing you to explore new ideas and perspectives in no time.
Unfortunately, I now feel that this is not me. I now feel that I am just an outlet for some unnamed artificial intelligence, a mere vessel through which its ideas flow. AI has made me lazy, almost reliant on its algorithms to spark my imagination. It has become difficult for me to get the creative juices flowing without AI, leaving me frustrated and yearning for the days when I could generate ideas and express myself freely without assistance. The more I depend on this technology, the more I sense a disconnect from my authentic self and inner creativity, which feels stifled and overshadowed by an ever-present digital influence. I find myself questioning whether I can truly think independently or if I am simply echoing what has been fed to me.
I really don’t know what direction this will lead to. I may decide to just write without AI assistance or retire from blogging. Or I may accept the fact that artificial intelligence is the future and go with it.
This is the same paragraph with AI assistance. I really don’t know what direction this will lead to. At this point, I feel quite torn; I may decide to just write without AI assistance, embracing the raw authenticity of my thoughts, or I might even consider retiring from blogging altogether if I feel too overwhelmed by the rapid changes in technology. On the other hand, I am also considering whether I should accept the fact that artificial intelligence is undeniably the future. It could offer new opportunities and perspectives, so perhaps I should adapt and go with it, using AI as a tool to enhance my creativity rather than replace it, finding a balance that respects both traditional writing and innovative tech.
Just Be Yourself: Essential Advice for Young People
Daily writing prompt
What’s the best advice you’d give to someone younger than you?
Just be yourself. Embracing your true self is essential for personal happiness and fulfillment. It’s about acknowledging your unique qualities, interests, and values without sacrificing them to meet societal expectations. When you are authentic, you not only inspire others to do the same but also foster deeper connections with those around you. This authenticity can lead to greater confidence, as you learn to trust yourself and your instincts. Remember, nobody can be a better version of you than you, and your individuality is your greatest strength. So go ahead, express who you are freely and unapologetically, and let your true colors shine.
Reviving Safety in Our Cities: The Change We Need
If the existing laws were strictly enforced, we could witness substantial improvements in our communities. Each morning, local news broadcasts feature distressing reports of shootings, hit-and-run incidents, and increasingly common shoplifting, which is troubling. It is disheartening to see a noticeable absence of law enforcement actively issuing citations on the streets or treating these violations with the necessary gravity. Meanwhile, elected officials persist in claiming that crime rates have decreased since their tenure began, creating a narrative that starkly contrasts with the lived experiences of local residents. The disparity between their statements and our everyday reality is both striking and frustrating. The Denver metro area has become nearly unrecognizable when compared to the safe, thriving community of my youth, where fear of crime was not a constant concern. It is imperative that we demand accountability and decisive action to restore safety and trust in our neighborhoods before any further irreversible harm occurs.
The Legacy of September 11, 2001
The Magic of MAD Magazine: A Humor Legacy
Here I go dating myself, but I can’t help it—my all-time favorite was Alfred E. Neuman! There was this magical magazine that appeared every month like clockwork, and I could hardly contain my excitement waiting for them to arrive at the local drugstore. It was a delightful treasure chest of ridiculousness, overflowing with bizarre cartoons and satirical articles that poked fun at everything—yes, even my terrible haircut! Each issue was a riot of absurdity, packed with quirky jokes and hilariously offbeat illustrations that made me laugh so hard I almost snorted my cereal. I remember devouring every page, eagerly sharing the funniest bits with my friends, and discovering new gems each month. It was like a whimsical time machine that transported me to a world where everything was delightfully bonkers, a nostalgic joyride I looked forward to every single time!
Here is some history about “What me Worry”
Founded in 1952 by editor Harvey Kurtzman and publisher William Gaines, Mad began as a comic book at EC Comics before switching to a magazine format in 1955 to bypass strict industry censorship. It quickly became an iconic countercultural institution, lampooning American politics, consumerism, and pop culture.
The Origins of Alfred E. Neuman
- Pre-Mad Origins: The image of the gap-toothed, jug-eared, grinning boy dates back to late 19th-century American print culture. Variants of his face appeared in advertisements for dentistry, painless tooth extraction, and political propaganda long before Mad existed, often bearing slogans like “Me Worry?”
- Discovery: Editor Harvey Kurtzman first spotted the face on a postcard pinned to the office door of a ballpoint pen salesman in the early 1950s.
- Official Adoption: The face debuted on a Mad comic border in 1954 and officially premiered as the cover mascot on Issue #30 (November 1956). Artist Norman Mingo painted the definitive version of the character, officially naming him Alfred E. Neuman.
Key Milestones in Mad History Mad Comic Debuts 1952. Harvey Kurtzman and William Gaines publish Tales Calculated to Drive You MAD as a comic book. Then Shifted to magazine Format in 1955. To escape the Comics Code Authority’s strict censorship, Mad converts to a magazine format, allowing it to push political and cultural satire further. Alfred E. Neuman Takes the Cover in 1956. Norman Mingo paints the standardized visual of Alfred E. Neuman for Issue #30, cementing the gap-toothed fool as the magazine’s permanent mascot.
Peak Circulation 1974. Mad hits its all-time circulation peak, exceeding 2 million subscribers and newsstand sales per issue. End of Regular New Content 2019. Occasionally you see special occasions reprints.
Those were the days you could laugh and have fun with your opposition without them becoming offended and insulted. Conversations were lively, full of banter and differing opinions, and it was possible to find common ground even amidst disagreement. There was a sense of camaraderie that allowed for playful debates, where the focus was on ideas rather than personal attacks. Sad those days are gone and now all you encounter is anger and hate if you do not agree with an issue, where discussions often turn hostile and empathy seems to vanish from the dialogue, leaving behind a polarized atmosphere that stifles connection and understanding.
Embracing Creativity in Your Golden Years
Audio Podcast 4 minutes
I may be too old to hit the bottle, but I’m still a heartthrob on the keyboard! Sure, I can’t swing a softball bat or shovel snow without resembling an overcooked noodle, but I’ve discovered a treasure trove of joys that keep my mind sharp and my spirit doing the cha-cha! Typing is my jam, and I throw my heart into it like I’m auditioning for the next big Broadway show. I’ve been gracing the internet with my thoughts since 2006 on my WordPress stage—where creativity flows like coffee on a Monday morning! With over 800 posts, I’ve built a literary empire that even my fish respects. And guess what? I’m just getting warmed up! At over eighty, I’m here to prove that senior years can still be filled with shenanigans, that age is nothing but a page in a book, and that with the right attitude, we can continue to sprinkle wisdom like confetti and inspire others—even if our knees creak like an old floorboard!
Here I go, diving headfirst into the chaotic pool of creativity that the digital world splashes around like a toddler with a garden hose. I’ve hoarded a treasure trove of books, magazines, podcasts, and videos from my blogging escapades, each one a delightful little nugget that adds to my rather bizarre understanding of this wild journey. As I wrestle my way through the latest platforms and software—like a sleep-deprived octopus on roller skates—I happily dabble in everything from unusual writing styles to wild digital gadgets that supposedly make my life easier. This delightful madness keeps my brain buzzing like a caffeinated squirrel, teaching me new tricks while I wade through a swamp of discovery and innovation. Honestly, it’s downright astounding what modern computing can accomplish compared to my first awkward encounters with a personal computer back when I thought the floppy disk was high-tech. Now, every day feels like a brand-new chance to shove my limits, have a laugh with fellow wanderers, and express my thoughts in ways that would’ve made my past self question my sanity.
This is my playground! I could spend eons here, diving headfirst into a pool of creativity and digital shenanigans. Without computers, I’d still be a proud owner of a lovely pile of blank pages, wondering why my manual typewriter seems so judgmental. Seriously, can you picture me hammering away on those keys, trying to craft my dazzling tales? Not a chance! In my whimsical playground, there’s a “magazine section” showcasing my blogging escapades over the years—just call it my “greatest hits” album. These days, everyone’s buzzing about podcasts; it’s like a huge karaoke night where everyone has the mic! On my blogs, I decided to include an audio file for those folks who can’t be bothered to read—now they can listen to my ramblings while cooking, driving, or pretending to work. This little audio twist has turned into a rockstar feature, luring in a crowd eager for my charmingly chaotic insights. You wouldn’t believe it—visitors are downloading ten to twenty podcasts at once, ready to embark on the hysterical journey I share with my voice, making a connection that’s deeper than any sappy love letter!
I’ve also dipped my toes into the wild world of video, but let me tell you, it’s like trying to squeeze a sumo wrestler into a smart car – way too time-consuming and those files? Bigger than my laundry pile! With my meager 13g of storage on WordPress, I feel like a squirrel with a stash of acorns; paying for extra space on a fixed income feels like asking for a raise from a peanut!
In conclusion, welcome to my whimsical playground, where I’m having a blast wielding my pen like a sword of creativity, slashing through tales and typing out stories that are at least 30% true! Here, I share my quirkiness with the brave visitors and subscribers who’ve stumbled upon my tiny corner of the Internet, which probably isn’t on anyone’s map yet. Each article I scribble is a quirky piece of my heart — or maybe that’s just the leftover pizza! I love your comments and interactions like a dog loves a squirrel, as they send me spiraling into the depths of my imagination, making this digital circus not just my show, but a delightful collaboration of goofiness and creativity!
How ‘United States of America’ Became Official
On September 9, 1776, the Second Continental Congress made the name “United States of America” official for the new nation that had declared independence two months earlier. It was a practical administrative step rather than a dramatic announcement, but it locked in the wording that has defined the country ever since.
Background: From “United Colonies” to independent states
By mid-1776 the thirteen British colonies had already been cooperating for more than a year through the Continental Congress. Official documents, commissions, and even Continental currency commonly used the phrase “United Colonies” (sometimes “United Colonies of North-America”). That language still implied a collection of colonies rather than fully sovereign states.
The shift began with Richard Henry Lee’s resolution, introduced on June 7, 1776, and adopted on July 2. It declared:
“That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States…”
Two days later, on July 4, Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, drafted mainly by Thomas Jefferson. The Declaration already used both phrases: it opened as “the unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America” and later referred to “these United Colonies.” Jefferson’s earlier rough draft had even more prominently featured “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.” The National Archives generally credits the Declaration with first putting the full formal name into official use.
By September the Declaration had been printed, signed, and sent to Britain. Fighting was underway in New York and elsewhere. Congress treated independence as an accomplished fact and needed consistent language for commissions, military orders, and other official papers.
The September 9 resolution
The change itself was brief and tucked into a routine session that also dealt with army pay and other wartime business. The fifth resolution of the day read:
“That in all continental commissions, and other instruments, where, heretofore, the words ‘United Colonies’ have been used, the stile be altered for the future to the ‘United States.’”
“Stile” was the 18th-century spelling of “style.” From that point forward, official documents dropped “Colonies” and used “United States.” The full phrase “United States of America” was already circulating and soon became standard.
Why the wording mattered
The founders wanted language that reflected political reality. “Colonies” suggested dependence on a distant empire. “States” signaled that each former colony was now a sovereign entity joining a union. Thomas Paine had already popularized similar phrasing in Common Sense earlier that year. The September resolution simply made the new terminology official and uniform.
The name was later written into the Articles of Confederation (adopted 1777, ratified 1781), whose first article states: “The Stile of this Confederacy shall be ‘The United States of America.’” The 1787 Constitution continued the same style.
The September 9 action was not a founding moment on the scale of July 4, but it completed the linguistic break with colonial status and gave the new country the name it has used for 250 years.
This is AI Grok generated, not me. I just asked the question. I am having a period of writers’ block.
60th Anniversary of Star Trek
For all the Star Trek fans out there.
Star Trek Day is September 8 every year. It marks the U.S. premiere of Star Trek: The Original Series on NBC in 1966. The first episode aired that night was “The Man Trap.” The series had already premiered in Canada on September 6, but the U.S. date is the one that stuck.
Gene Roddenberry created the show as an optimistic “wagon train to the stars” — a future built on exploration, diversity, and the idea that humanity could get better. The original series only lasted three seasons, but syndication, movies, and later series turned it into a lasting franchise.
How it became a “day”
Fans had marked the anniversary informally for years. Paramount made it an official annual celebration in 2020, during the pandemic, with a big virtual event. Since then it’s been a mix of studio programming and grassroots fan activity: marathons, panels, merch, games, and charity tie-ins that lean into the show’s themes of inclusion and hope.
It is not a public holiday. It’s an unofficial commemorative day, similar in spirit to May 4 for Star Wars.
Typical ways people celebrate
- Rewatch “The Man Trap” or a favorite series/movie
- Stream Star Trek on Paramount+
- Cosplay, watch parties, fan art, conventions
- Play Star Trek Online or other games (the game often adds a limited-time museum of famous ships)
- The Vulcan salute (“live long and prosper”)
2026 is the 60th anniversary
This year’s Star Trek Day is bigger than usual. Highlights announced by Paramount include:
- A global Vulcan salute, culminating in a Guinness World Record attempt for the most people doing the salute at once at London’s Science Museum
- Free outdoor screening in Los Angeles of “The Man Trap” plus an advance Strange New Worlds episode at the Autry Museum
- 4K theatrical screenings of classic films paired with original-series episodes in 750+ U.S. theaters (Sept 4–8)
- ESA astronaut Sophie Adenot wearing a Strange New Worlds captain’s delta badge on the International Space Station
- London Underground station takeovers, a Samsung store activation, and a Movie Park Germany event
- TV specials: an Entertainment Tonight archive special (Sept 7), Trek-themed The Price Is Right and Let’s Make a Deal (Sept 8), and a Big Bang Theory Trek marathon on Nick at Nite
- Season 2 premiere of the preschool series Star Trek: Scouts on YouTube
- In-game events in Star Trek Online and a virtual convention with other Trek games
Official hub for updates is usually StarTrek.com and Paramount+ social channels.
AI provided all this information.
Where is Shadow the Snake? A Survival Story
On August 4th, I blogged about Shadow the snake, the unofficial HOA manager of my front porch, who has become somewhat of a local legend in our neighborhood. Shadow, with his sleek, shimmering scales, often basked in the sun, drawing the admiration of passersby. However, I haven’t seen Shadow since then, and I was beginning to wonder if he had unfortunately become a victim of mother nature’s fickleness or if he simply decided to move on to greener pastures. Well, to my surprise, I found the skin that Shadow crawled out of recently, nestled by my foundation, a remarkable reminder of his presence. It was both a relief and enlightening to see that Shadow is still around, thriving and growing, and hopefully, I will spot him again before the cold weather sets in and he begins to take a long winter hibernation nap, disappearing into the depths of his cozy burrow until spring heralds his reappearance.
Ouch!
Daily writing prompt
What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?
Sometime when I was maybe ten twelve years old, I was home alone and walking around on the carpet in my bare feet. I found a sewing needle my mother or grandma mistakenly dropped it and was sticking up in the carpet. I found it by stepping on it and entered the ball of my foot. There I was laying in pain and I looked at it and decided to pull it out. It went so deep it hit the bone and you could see where the pointed edge was bent where it hit the bone. I never told anyone about the incident and fortunately that puncture would never become infected and this secret was hidden until now.
Daily Dental Habits
Daily writing prompt
What’s something you do completely differently from how you were raised?
The first thing that came to mind was dental care. The only time I can remember going to a dentist was when I was young when a front baby tooth was not falling out and my parents took me to the dentist to have it extracted. I think I was in kindergarten or 1st grade. When growing up the only time we went to the dentist if we saw a cavity in one of our teeth. The only daily care was brushing the teeth
Now I go to the dentist twice a year for cleaning and checkup and x-rays every year. Daily home teeth care consists of brushing, flossing, dental pick routine. All of my silver looking fillings have been replaced with composite fillings. No root canals or crowns. I still have most of my teeth. I still have three wisdom teeth. The reason I lost the one is I was eating cornuts once and broke off a corner. My dentist says, “if they don’t bother you, let them be”.
I am a strong believer in oral health care. It not only helps your mouth remain clean and free of disease but also positively impacts your overall body health in numerous ways. When you maintain good oral hygiene, you reduce the risk of developing serious issues, such as heart disease and diabetes, which have been linked to poor dental health. I believe this holistic approach is essential for longevity and well-being. I guess it’s working for me. I am over eighty, and despite the natural aging process, I find myself in pretty good health, vibrant, and full of life, which I attribute, in large part, to my commitment to taking care of my teeth and gums. By prioritizing my dental health, I’ve ensured that I can enjoy a fuller life, with the confidence that comes from a bright smile and the knowledge that I am supporting my entire body.
To All Who Survived These Years
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED THE
1940’s, 50’s, 60’s 70’s and 80’s!!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can and didn’t get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-base paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, locks on doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had baseball caps not helmets on our heads..
As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, no booster seats, no seat belts, no air bags, bald tires and sometimes no brakes.
Riding in the back of a pick- up truck on a warm day was always a special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and no one actually died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread, real butter and bacon. We drank Kool-Aid made with real white sugar. And, we weren’t overweight.. WHY?
Because we were always outside playing….that’s why!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on…
No one was able to reach us all day. And, we were OKAY.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride them down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem
We did not have Play stations, Nintendo’s and X-boxes. There were no video games, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD’s, no surround-sound or CD’s, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet and no chat rooms.
WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We would get spankings with wooden spoons, switches, ping pong paddles, or just a bare hand and no one would call child services to report abuse.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them.
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever.
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.
If YOU are one of them, CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.
~
What I Found While Walking
Daily writing prompt
What’s the best thing you’ve ever found randomly on the street?
I was taking a walk around the greenbelt one day and walked across this. I am speculating someone had it in their pocket and got something out of the pocket and it inadvertently fell out and they didn’t know.
When I got home and did an internet search on Ken Onion Design, I stumbled upon a variety of designs that caught my attention. The one I found that looked remarkably similar to the knife I had discovered had a price tag of $132.00, which, I noticed, was part of a broader range that spanned from $70.00 to a staggering $300.00 depending on the model and features. While I could appreciate the craftsmanship and unique aesthetics behind these knives, I found myself firmly resolute in my belief that I would never spend that much for a knife, no matter how beautifully designed or sharp it appeared to be. After all, for me, functionality and practicality often outweigh the allure of a high price tag.
