Stuff (a favorite word of mine)

Looks like the rain is coming
Looks like the rain is coming

I was northeast of Brookston a few days ago when I took this picture. I had thought to drive to Rolling Prairie, my home town, but since there was a prediction (70% chance of thunder storms up there) I decided to just take a long drive instead. It worked out. I took a few pictures that will be showing up here in various posts. Speaking of this blog, my mother mentioned on the phone last week that my sister told her something that I had written in “your blob, or whatever you call it.” I guess blob is probably what she would call it if she read it; but she won’t read it. She has drawn away from all things electronic as the years go by. That’s probably just as well, or I wouldn’t be able to write about her without fear of offending her.


Cindy and I went with friends to a cookout at a campground in Monticello yesterday. It was good company, good food, and fair weather. Thanks Todd and Patty. There was one bothersome (to me) thing that I noticed at the campground. When I walked up to one of the communal restrooms I found that the Men’s and (probably) the Ladies’ restrooms were open to all, and were very clean, but were not strictly handicapped accessible. There was another door to the building for people with restricted movement, but it was marked as Unisex, and the door was locked. A sign indicated that in order to use that facility, you had to go to the camp office to get a key. To me, that didn’t seem the friendliest way welcome everyone to the campground. Perhaps I’m too sensitive to these issues after working most of my life in the public sector. Or, perhaps, they haven’t been sued.


I was listening to Randy Newman’s Rednecks yesterday (a paean to intolerance and to people who like to feel superior), and I wondered if anyone who is younger than 50 would know who Lester Maddox was. For that matter, how many people older than 50 would remember him? He was an iconic figure in his day, but we often seem to have societal amnesia about so many people and things. I may be wrong; Lester Maddox may be no more than an answer to a trivia question. 

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