Previously noted…I’m a gearhead!

I sort of murmur my way around hill and dale, leaving the 6,000+ foot altitude of our La Cieneguilla neighborhood, going into town in Santa Fe or…more likely…off into “hills” or mountains in beautiful northern New Mexico.

My usual ride is my beloved Hemi-powered Ram Pickmeup. Speedo stopped working several years ago at around 225,000 miles. Mostly garaged, now.

The all-purpose family ride nowadays is Helen’s Ford Maverick. Also an eye-stopper…and nigh unto impossible to buy. Not certain if they’re even running a waiting list, anymore. Prolly ran out of ink and paper roll.

So, why the photo of that coupe up top? End of an era, folks. The sort of toy I enjoyed for decades. Not that I resent the quiet riots starting to leave electro-fabs in Detroit and elsewhere. I’m too old, now, to start learning new tricks. Though, I relish the additions that computer geeks will be able to slip past spies who used to rely on removing gas caps to sniff for secret sauce.

Midsomer Murders

I am a devotee of mysteries. Often murder mysteries, Usually on television. I grew up with the literature of mysteries, soft or hardcover. Often waiting for cinematic versions of my favorites. But, the era of shows like MIDSOMER MURDERS on the telly have guaranteed an adequate supply of mayhem and mystery, detectives and coppers, working their insights and clearing the fog of doom from my electronic stage. Finding a recording of the Midsomer theme featuring theremin…usually the predominant instrument for the TV production’s intro…decided the character of this musical offering.


Protests continued in several cities across Iran on Thursday against the death of young woman in police custody, state and social media reported, as a human rights group said at least 83 people had been killed in nearly two weeks of demonstrations.

Mahsa Amini, 22, from the Iranian Kurdish town of Saqez, was arrested…in Tehran for “unsuitable attire” by the morality police that enforces the Islamic Republic’s strict dress code for women.

Her death has sparked the first big show of opposition on Iran’s streets since authorities crushed protests against a rise in gasoline prices in 2019.

“At least 83 people including children, are confirmed to have been killed in (the) #IranProtests,” Iran Human Rights, a Norway-based group, said on Twitter.

Despite the growing death toll and a fierce crackdown by authorities, videos posted on Twitter showed demonstrators calling for the fall of the clerical establishment in Tehran, Qom, Rasht, Sanandaj, Masjed-i-Suleiman and other cities.

There are some glorious videos around, online…showing these demonstrations. I’m not going to search and cut-and-paste to attach all of these to this post. You can do that search yourself. We have these tools, now. Instagram, Twitter, the Web, easy video, iPhones, laptops and more. Hardware and software that helps us to communicate with each other. The bastards can’t shutdown all of these conversations.

We will not stop!

Thanks, Mike

Gentlemen of the jury, the best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us—those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name—may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world—the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous—is his dog.

Gentlemen of the jury, a man’s dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his master’s side. He will kiss the hand that had no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death.

George Vest