To clear out the backlog of unpublished kitties, we’re bunching them up (third this week). I have held back several with collars and tags hoping to get their real names. But a time comes, when there has been no close encounter, to choose a moniker and add the beastie to the series.
This handsome tabby is one of several seen mulling about the same cottage complex along Louisiana. Those profiled so far, and there are more: Cuddles, Honcho, Saunter, and Squeaky.
The United States continues to seek new punishments against Russia for its invasion of Ukraine, which started on Feb. 24, 2022. Americans rally to the cause with good intentions that may not mean much and that may do more harm than good. For example, pouring out Vodka and evoking spirit (no pun intended) of the Boston Tea Party accomplishes what?
As Dan Kois writes for Slate: “Stop Boycotting Random Russian Things. You are not stopping the war in Ukraine”. Nutgraph: “It is dumb to boycott things that have no actual connection to Vladimir Putin or even, in some cases, to Russia. But it’s also foolish to demonize every vestige of Russian culture, and ordinary Russian citizens, and Russians abroad, as a result of a catastrophic war launched by a despot”.
When the Wilcoxes moved to this neighborhood in mid-October 2007, we encountered two obvious demographics: Older couples (and some singles)—many of whom lived in the same house for decades; gay couples—women more than men (who were more commonly seen in adjacent community Hillcrest). But as the real estate market bottomed out in 2011-12, a slow change blossomed into a flash flood of families with kids of age to attend Alice Birney Elementary.
But during the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns, when many people started working from home and therefore no longer needed to live close to their jobs, University Heights began a rapid demographic flip. Ultra-high rents and landlords selling homes along with a massive influx of Googler-types has flushed out families and many of the oldsters. The professional Millennial makeover sweeps in and sweeps others out. Among those leaving: Owners of the kitty in the Featured Image.
Along the same apartment complex knoll where appears Bleu, I sometime see another feline—either alone or nearby. Since the nickname for one is translated from English to French, let’s do the same with the other; Noire, which is the feminine, for black.
I assume, and possibly wrongly, that Noire is not only female but mother to the Kittens discovered in the connecting property. Resemblance is unmistakable, which doesn’t make my presumption right.
Everywhere you look, there are reports about rising inflation, which is presented as increases in prices of goods. As a longtime journalist with a reputation for making complex concepts simple and straightforward to understand, I must correct the glaring mistake made by the majority of news reports: Inflation and rising prices are not the same, although there is an undeniable relationship between the two.
Inflation isn’t prices going up but the value of money going down. Spending power decreases. The classic case is late-1923 Germany, when, because of hyperinflation, “a loaf of bread cost 140 billion marks. Workers were paid twice a day, and given half-hour breaks to rush to the shops with their satchels, suitcases, or wheelbarrow, to buy something, anything, before their paper money halved in value yet again” (source: “Loads of Money“, Economist).
For the first day of Spring in the Northern Hemisphere, I had planned to go with a nature theme. But plans changed after shopping at Grocery Outlet and seeing the wicked instant brew that my wife discovered during another visit. The company and its coffee are about a decade old but they’re new to me (obviously). The instant variety debuted in 2018.
The connotations of Death Wish, “world’s strongest coffee”, and skull-and-crossbones logo are loaded in all the right ways. It’s killer branding. K-pods are called “death cups”.
Yesterday, while walking to the used bookstore where receiving a U.S. Constitution booklet and unprompted lecture, I came upon the oddest objects—on the outer fringes of University Heights’ boundary, along Georgia between Howard and Polk. Are these signs in the Featured Image more signs of San Diego bureaucratic bungling? This stretch is part of the Georgia-Meade bikeway, for which someone in the city authorized traffic circles with the wrong community name that later required sandblasting to correct.
Tell me, when have you ever seen a posting stating “Speed Humps Ahead”. Gasp, is that, ah, innuendo for approaching sexual activity (e.g. humping) in hedonistic Hillcrest? Yes, I am being facetious, but it’s not an unreasonable question to ask about the neighborhood.
Today, while making a purchase at a used bookstore, I spotted a booklet containing the United States Constitution on the counter. I asked the price. “Free”, the owner answered, “from ACLU”. He emphasized the acronym for the American Civil Liberties Union like either I didn’t know what the organization was or that there was special significance by the group producing the handout—perhaps both. Whichever, or neither, he wanted to impart something.
Was either my surprise or interest at all the reason? His next statement, unprompted, perhaps explains: “It says nothing about assault rifles…[but] well-regulated militia. Most militias are illegal”. That was so left-field—politically, not just figuratively—I couldn’t rightly respond. He referred to the Second Amendment: “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed”.
Along the North Avenue alley, in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, someone put out a leather chair packing soon-to-be seasonal decorations. I came upon the giveaways late morning Feb. 4, 2022 while carrying Leica Q2. […]
Squinting may be necessary to make out this fine feline, which might be, uh-oh, a Russian Blue. Based on current social norms of conformance, businesses (or other entities) and individuals must boycott all things from Russia because of the country’s invasion into Ukraine. Being a devout nonconformist, I won’t penalize a cat for its breed.
Mock me if you like on the social media service of your choosing. I won’t see the post. What’s that quandary question: If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears does it make a sound? Similarly, if you post angrily about me and I don’t see does it matter? No. Go ahead, wriggle your grimy fingers on physical or screen keypad.
My work blog for JupiterResearch disappeared after Forrester’s acquisition during Summer 2008. I had long left the analyst firm and smartly brought a copy of all the content with me. On April 7, 2005, I griped about Congress’ plan to add two months to Daylight Saving Time, which, incidentally, commenced day before yesterday for 2022.
This afternoon, my newsfeeds flared with a report from Washington, D.C. that our, uhm, illustrious senators unanimously voted for the so-called Sunshine Protection Act, which would make DST permanent. Meaning: Year-round. I am almost impressed by their god-like gall—that they, and they alone, can protect the sun. Okay, they do need cooperation of the House of Representatives drafting like legislation and signature from the President. But aren’t they, as a collective group, one big ego? You don’t need answer.
Last month, I shared with you the pizza face mural on the side of a restaurant soon to open at El Cajon Blvd and Louisiana in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. Day before yesterday, when returning from checking gas prices at two Texas Street stations, I caught cheesy boy’s reflection in the Postal Convenience Center across the way.
The 34-year-old business suddenly closed on July 6, 2021 after losing its lease. That whole corner block, including several houses on Louisiana, are slated for demolition and redevelopment, presumably as another ugly apartment or condominium complex. Oh joy.