Today a long motorcycle ride

 Al and Kadizzle are going to take an adventurist motorcycle ride through the hinter land of Payson. The ride will be mainly on Forest Service roads, and there are plenty of them. The trick will be to find our way home an avoid the really nasty parts. Recent rains have rutted some of the roads. Yesterday we took a short ride and Kadizzle saw a truck camper out in the wilderness. It turned out to be a guy Kadizzle had met a few days earlier. He happened to be a laid off Forest Service employee who did trails like we did. It was interesting that he could get his truck camper as far down the bad roads as he did.

If you want a little political BS try the other blog. The mayor was pissed off about a cartoon of him I posted. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Urban Sprawl

Back from Denver what does Kadizzle remember? Like every city Denver is sprawling over the landscape. The insanity of infinite growth doesn't seem to register. Infinite shopping malls, and the repeat of all the chain food joints, and same stores everywhere. Of course there are also the title loan companies, and the street vendors. 

You wouldn't keep putting more and more chickens in a cage, why do we do it to humans? Kadizzle with the wife inspected a new apartment building nearby the home of Erin. The place was very nice and had amenities like a swimming pool, work out room, and so on, but there were 300 apartments. People stacked on people, and nobody seems to mind. We have been blessed living in small towns with plenty of space. We had a wonderful garden in North Dakota, and here in Arizona we have forest close by. Phoenix and Denver are competing for sprawl. Like ants on an ant mound the cars are endless. The choices are endless, but is it worth it? Kadizzle says no way in hell. The worst thing in any big city are the freeways. On the vast freeways the aggressive drivers do their thing. They drive like idiots and make moving from point A to point B a death game. Why do we tolerate the aggressive drivers? Modern computers, and artificial intelligence could spot the simple minded dingers and eliminate them. 

Over on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity the question is " Why can't the MAGAs spot Trump's mental illness?"

https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Are there any Elk out there? One nice thing about our new home is the huge window in the bedroom. Waking up in the morning we can look  out and see if any Elk are present in the little patch of forest behind our house. Often the Elk will bed down there or stop to browse. No luck the morning. Sometimes there will be javelina or coyotes. 

Back from Denver today

Sister Patty told Kadizzle about a psychiatrist commenting on Trump's condition. You can find it on the Daily Beast youtube. Trump's dementia has become much worse. Will post the youtube video over on the Nationtal association for  blog. 

We will take the train out to the airport. Both of us have leg problems so it will be a hike. Had a great time seeing Sylvie perform in her play and last night she did one of her dance routines after we ate. Fran cooked some wonderful meals. 

Meander around Denver

The plan for today is to take the nice new train to downtown Denver. From Erin's house it is a short walk to the rail station or rapid transit if you wish. In no time you are at Union Station, which is very nice. Might have lunch there. Denver has fixed up the 16th street mall so the main plan will be to wander that. Free buses take you up and down the street. If we have the energy and mobility we will go across the river to REI to see if we can buy something we don't need. 

Religion is one of the worst curses of mankind. A good video is over on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Denver is a nice city

Kadizzle has been in just about every major city in the United States and finds Denver one of the best. However, Kadizzle has no use for large metropolitan areas. Great to visit, but don't want to live in one. The urban sprawl is insane all over the country. It is unsustainable. There will be shopping malls from Fort Collins to Colorado Springs uninterrupted. The planet and country are definitely over populated. 

When AI strains the electrical grid all hell will break lose. 

We did have a nice visit to downtown yesterday. Some Mexican holiday was being celebrated. It seemed like the day of the dead. Costumes were very good. 

To keep exploring ideas about truth, democracy, and common sense, visit the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity.

Over on the National Association blog you can check out the Three Stooges latest scheme. 

Life in Denver

Elsa Takes Denver

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you know Kadizzle has a soft spot the size of the Rockies for his granddaughter, Sylvie. She’s a miracle child in every sense — bright, creative, and full of life.

Last night she was in another play, the reason we flew to Denver. But today brought something entirely new — a “princess job.”

We drove to an office building where Sylvie unlocked a small room that looked like a fairytale supply depot: racks of shimmering gowns, tiaras, wigs, and boxes labeled with names like Belle, Ariel, and Elsa. Today’s mission — bring Elsa to life for a birthday party.

Soon enough, Elsa emerged from that little office — blue gown flowing, hair braided, and eyes sparkling. We loaded up the car and headed for the gymnastics center where the party was waiting. Naturally, Elsa couldn’t just tumble out of a car at the front door. No, a princess must make an entrance. So we parked a distance away, and Elsa glided across the lot, lifting her trailing gown and carrying her basket with the portable speaker that would play her song.

Inside, Elsa read a story and sang to a crowd of spellbound children. Watching from the car, Erin and I couldn’t help but smile. The kids were enchanted, and Sylvie — our Sylvie — was in her element. She loves this work, and it shows.

For the grand finale, our newly licensed driver, Miss Sylvie herself, took the wheel and navigated Denver traffic all the way back to Stapleton. We made it home alive — three generations, one proud moment, and a touch of Disney magic to top it off.

---

NEW BLUES TUNE - Man He Be Rotten

This is just too damn good. Beg you to watch and share. Man he be Rotten, listen closely to the lyrics. 

What British think of our Orange Pumpkin

Wow, they tear the rat to shreds

«Behold. The festering carcass of American rot shoved into an ill-fitting suit: the sleaze of a conman, the cowardice of a draft dodger, the gluttony of a parasite, the racism of a Klansman, the sexism of a back-alley creep, the ignorance of a bar-stool drunk, and the greed of a hedge-fund ghoul—all spray-painted orange and paraded like a prize hog at a county fair. Not a president. Not even a man. Just the diseased distillation of everything this country swears it isn’t but has always been—arrogance dressed up as exceptionalism, stupidity passed off as common sense, cruelty sold as toughness, greed exalted as ambition, and corruption worshiped like gospel. It is America’s shadow made flesh, a rotting pumpkin idol proving that when a nation kneels before money, power, and spite, it doesn’t just lose its soul—it shits out this bloated obscenity and calls it a leader.»

 

Separating Two Worlds.

---

Life on the Hill

Kadizzle may not be hitting grand slams, but he’s still stepping up to the plate. The plan is simple: keep day-to-day life here on Kadizzled, and move the heavy political artillery over to The National Association for the Advancement of Humanity.

Here in the real world, it looks like another fine day in paradise. Five years ago we built this house, and the neighborhood has turned out better than we could have hoped. The lawns are tidy, the dogs are friendly, and—naturally—there’s a fresh crop of flagpoles sprouting up like dandelions after a spring rain.

Around here, a flagpole is often code for I’ve got a gun and think Trump walks on water. Still, our neighbors are decent folks, even the ones lost in the MAGA fog. We’ve also got a fair share of rational people, and somehow everyone gets along just fine.

Home prices have climbed nicely since we moved in. The house just below us is listed at $1.3 million, and another nearby is flirting with a cool million. Whether those sellers hit the jackpot or just dream out loud remains to be seen—the housing market’s been catching its breath lately.

From our perch on top of the hill, the view stretches across mountains that never seem to get old. Payson is a town wrapped in National Forest—pines to the east, dry forest to the west—and that mix of climate and wilderness is what draws people here. Down below, three small lakes sparkle beside a beautiful park where kids and retirees reel in stocked trout all year long.

For someone who once called North Dakota home, Payson feels like another planet—one with mountains, sunshine, and just enough local characters to keep a blog alive.

---

If you enjoy these reflections, visit the sister site where Kadizzle takes on the bigger battles — politics, truth, and the national circus — at The National Association for the Advancement of Humanity. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Will Payson have a new pool?

---

The Six-Dollar Hooplehead

You’re busted flat, but somehow there’s always enough in your pocket to wander into the casino and feed the slot machines. The town wants to build a new pool, and it’ll cost you—brace yourself—six dollars a month.

You flick your five-dollar cigarette, sip your six-dollar beer, and decide that’s just too much. After all, the Three Stooges—Otto, Bell, and Ferris—said they can fix the old pool with a roll of duct tape and a little Tea Party magic. Never mind that the old pool’s been shut down for years.

The Stooges have done their job well, spreading misinformation from one busted trailer to another. Life in the mobile home park is tough, and you’ve been falling for their schemes as long as you can remember. So once again, you’ll do as they say and vote “no,” convinced you’re saving money.

It never occurs to you that voting down progress makes your trailer worth less, or that keeping the town stuck in the Stone Age helps the Tea Party keep its grip on ignorance. But hey, you love their meetings—where the coffee is free and the lies flow faster than beer at the casino.

Will the pool bond pass? Nope. There are way more Hooples than normal people.

---

WATCH: Trump's New Move Just Left Mike Johnson STUNNED🚨

Trump is mentally ill how can you miss it?

---

Classic Trump idiot at the protest showing his IQ

Trump’s Mental Meltdown Reaches New Altitude

Trump’s mental illness has gone airborne. In his latest deranged fantasy, he posted a fake video of himself wearing a king’s crown, flying a jet, and literally spewing shit all over protestors. You can’t make this up. The imagery says it all — Trump sees himself as a divine monarch, above the people, defiling anyone who dares to dissent.

This is not just juvenile mockery or bad taste; it’s the public display of a man descending into madness. The delusion of kingship, the obsession with humiliation, and the total loss of shame — these are classic signs of narcissistic psychosis. Yet somehow, millions of Americans look away and call it “just Trump being Trump.”

If an ordinary person posted something like this, they’d be on a psychiatric watch list. But when Trump does it, the MAGA faithful cheer. The same people who once claimed to defend morality and “family values” now kneel to a man who worships himself in gold-plated fantasy videos.

As Trump’s mind unravels, so does our democracy. He’s already promised to use the Justice Department as his personal weapon of revenge. He’s vowed to purge the civil service, fire judges, and replace the Constitution with his will. The jet in his video isn’t just a symbol — it’s a warning. Trump intends to strafe the truth, bomb the institutions of government, and smear anyone who resists.

America is watching a man with unchecked power and untreated madness destroy the foundation of our republic. The question isn’t whether Trump is insane. The question is why so many people are fine with it.

---

Three smoke dogs bite the dust

The Payson police did an excellent job of catching the smoke dogs that spewed diesel fumes on the protest today. Bob and Kadizzle chased down this diesel rat. The police showed up quickly and did the rest. The Hoopleheads encouraged the worst of their crowd to do this. It did not work out so well. 

The MAGA mindset spew diesel smoke on normal people and drive around with a sign like this:

 

Put on your King hat

---

No Kings — Even at Burger King

Kadizzle stopped by Burger King this morning and came out with more than a breakfast sandwich — he scored a stack of those cardboard crowns. Perfect for today’s “NO KINGS” protest. Seems fitting, doesn’t it? The Burger King is lending a hand to democracy.

This afternoon, a few hundred good citizens are expected to gather in Payson to remind the Hoopleheads that the flame of democracy still flickers here in the pines. It’s time to trade apathy for action. So, if you’re sitting on your lazy rear wondering what’s for lunch — get up, get out, and stand up for your children and grandchildren. Freedom doesn’t defend itself.

No doubt the Hooplehead parade will roll by — middle fingers waving proudly, diesel pickups belching smoke like a patriotic fog machine. Let them have their tantrum. Every puff of black exhaust just proves the point: ignorance burns dirty.

Meanwhile, the rest of us will be out there wearing Burger King crowns and declaring what should be obvious — America doesn’t need a king. Not Trump, not any wannabe dictator.

So grab a sign, grab a crown, and join the fun. The Hooples might have noise, but we’ve got numbers, wit, and a cause that’s older and stronger than any cult of personality — democracy itself.

---

Mind Boggling

---

Trump’s Empire of Corruption

Trump’s corruption isn’t politics as usual — it’s a masterpiece of grift. No one in American history has looted the system with such brazenness. From pay-to-play schemes to foreign money funneled through his hotels, Trump has turned the presidency into a personal ATM. The New York Times lays it out in detail today — the graft, the self-dealing, the open sale of influence. It’s jaw-dropping, even for those of us long past being shocked.

Meanwhile, the sun shines here like everything is normal. The Hoopleheads sip their coffee and nod along to talk radio, blissfully unaware or willfully blind. The planet is melting, democracy is gasping for air, and Trump struts around as if crowned by divine right. He ignores the law, dishes out violence and vengeance, and his followers cheer as if tyranny were freedom.

What, exactly, would it take to wake the Hoopleheads? The signs are flashing in neon: we have a dictator in the making, and his name is Donald Trump. Hitler would be proud of the apprentice.

---

The Tea Party Virus

The Morning After the Rain

Up early, the fire flickers in the corner—just enough to puff some warmth into the room. Outside, the sun is crawling above the horizon, but you can tell the weather has turned. Last night hit 39 degrees. The rain’s gone now, leaving the ground soaked and the air smelling clean.

Saturday’s shaping up to be a big one—the protest against the Trump dictatorship. With luck, more than four hundred people will show up to remind the wannabe king that democracy still breathes in Arizona.

Meanwhile, here in our little corner of the republic, the pool bond vote marches on. Just down the street sits a woman living in a home worth close to a million bucks, but she’s caught the Tea Party virus and voted against it. Six lousy dollars a month was just too much for her—never mind the kids who’ve gone five summers without a real pool. Let them swim in potholes, she says, while polishing her SUV.

The Tea Party has drenched the town in misinformation about the bond. Their local champions—the Three Stooges of the Town Council, Otto, Bell, and Ferris—have done their part to rile up the gullible and stall progress.

So here we are. The ballots will soon tell us what kind of town we really live in. Is Payson drowning in idiocy, or will enough people rise above the swamp to vote for the future? This election will say a lot about whether reason still lives in Rim Country—or if the Hoopleheads have won.

Fleecing the Flock is today's comment over at the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

What is a Hooplehead

---

What Is a Hooplehead?

A Hooplehead is that lovable but exasperating character who lives in every small town — the one who thinks common sense is a communist plot. He’s suspicious of progress, allergic to facts, and convinced that potholes are part of God’s plan. The Hooplehead waves the flag high but never reads what it stands for. He rails against “government waste” while cashing every government check.

In Payson, the Hooplehead is easy to spot. He’s the guy who says we can’t afford a new pool but spends fifty bucks on lottery tickets. He talks about “freedom” but wants to ban books. He thinks experts are the enemy and ignorance is a virtue. The Hooplehead will tell you he loves the town — right before voting against anything that might improve it.

At heart, the Hooplehead isn’t evil — just trapped in the echo chamber of fear, resentment, and talk radio. He’s a warning sign of what happens when people stop thinking and start following slogans.

---

Cottonwood vs Payson

Letter to the Editor: Cottonwood Called — They’d Like to Loan Us Some Vision

Yesterday my sister took me on a tour of the Cottonwood Recreation Center. I wasn’t expecting much. But wow — it turns out Cottonwood, a town about the same size as Payson, is living in the 21st century. Meanwhile, we’re still arguing about whether a new pool will cause the collapse of Western Civilization.

Cottonwood’s place was packed. Seniors on treadmills, kids splashing in an indoor pool, parents working out while their toddlers played nearby. There were tennis courts, a gleaming outdoor pool, and even a library right next door. You know — civilization stuff.

And here’s the punchline: Cottonwood didn’t get this by accident. They built it. They planned it. They invested in their own community. Payson, on the other hand, can’t build a shithouse without the Tea Party obstructionists declaring it a communist plot.

Maybe we should load up the local Hoopleheads on a school bus, drive them over to Cottonwood, and let them see what happens when leaders lead instead of whine. Cottonwood proves what a town can do when progress isn’t treated like a four-letter word.

---

Ma p’tite car noire

More Rain and the selfish people

---

Mike Fox and the Battle of the Signs

Mike Fox is the ultimate sign protester. At 83 years old, he’s still out there with a grin, a sign, and a cause — whether it’s pushing for a new pool or rallying support for the school bond.

Yesterday, Kadizzle joined Mike down by Green Valley Park to wave signs for the bond campaign. Standing at the intersection, it was heartening to see the steady stream of thumbs-up and honking horns from folks who understand that investing in our community matters.

Of course, there were a few of the usual suspects — the penny-pinching crowd who can’t stomach the idea of paying six or seven dollars a month so that our kids can have a decent pool. These are the same old goats who live in their trailer-court kingdoms, dreaming of hitting the jackpot. They’ll gladly blow ten bucks at the grocery store on lottery tickets, but not a dime to actually improve the town they live in.

The truth is, the old Taylor Pool has been closed for more than five years. It’s crumbling, beyond repair, and in a hopeless location. Qualified engineers have said so. Still, the “duct-tape-it-and-call-it-good” crowd clings to the fantasy that patching the past is cheaper than building for the future.

What they don’t realize is that if the bond passes, Payson could qualify for grants worth eight to fourteen million dollars — free money to multiply our investment. But the goats are their own worst enemy. Poor judgment and missed opportunities are the trademarks of those who never learned the value of a smart investment.

So here’s to Mike Fox — the old lion still roaring at 83 — standing tall with his sign, reminding us all that progress takes courage, not excuses.

---

It is Sunday Morning

---

Sunday Reflections from the High Desert

Here we are again, waking up on another Sunday morning. But this one feels different. Outside, a light rain is falling — a small miracle here in the high desert. The sky is overcast, the air soft and cool.

The morning routine unfolds the same as always: stumble out of bed, make it to the coffee grinder without injury, and brew eight cups of courage. Then comes the ritual — open the laptop, scroll through The New York Times, and slowly let the day come into focus.

With the rain settling in, the Kadizzles will likely be confined indoors. Maybe the elk will wander by and put on a show through the window — nature’s version of Sunday TV. Tomorrow means a trip to Cottonwood, where Sister insists on massage appointments. It costs a bit more than I’d like, but perhaps it’s worth it for the temporary peace it brings.

Over on the other blog — The National Association for the Advancement of Humanity — Kadizzle writes about how the tone has shifted at the Donuts with Democrats gathering. There’s a new sense of urgency in the air — a growing awareness that our democracy is under real threat. If you haven’t read it yet, pour another cup of coffee and head over there. It’s time we all start paying attention. 

On Another Subject — The Pool Vote

The ballots are out for the bond to build a new pool in Payson. Kadizzle fears it’s doomed. The Hoopleheads from the Tea Party meetings have been thoroughly juiced to vote “no.” These are the same folks who were promised prosperity by Trump, but deep down they know that train left the station years ago.

Somehow, they always find cash for slot machines and scratch-offs, but six bucks a month for a town pool? Out of the question! They’ll drop ten at the grocery store chasing the fantasy of instant riches while living in a trailer that’s one windstorm away from Kansas. Out front, the loyal dog stands guard behind the chain-link fence — the monument to the Hooplehead dream.

---

Elk have no fear

As we pulled into our garage there was one of the beast eating one of our trees right below the kitchen window.  Her friends were across the street munching on the neighbors yard plants. Kadizzle wanted to see how close he could get to the buck of the group. Maybe a dumb idea, but what the hell. Kadizzle got within ten feet and watched the large animal eating the little blue berries that are on the cedar trees. The big fellow turned to look so Kadizzle could get a good picture, but he could care less if someone watched him eat lunch. Mrs Kadizzle was upset with the girl elk eating our shrubbery and told the young teen elk to leave. Kadizzle enjoys having the elk around. Most people in Payson love seeing the elk. 

The Rain in Spain falls mainly on the Plain

Liquid gold is falling from the sky. Arizona is normally drier than a popcorn fart, but for three days it will rain. In this state you feel sorry for the trees and the wildlife. Kadizzle has walked and ridden his motorcycle through miles of National forest. There is no water to be found. How do the animals survive? In places the state has put catchment facilities to accommodate the animals, but that is a small effort. The ground here has an amazing capacity to store water. The nature of the soil here is strange. Not only does it store water, but it allows water to move through it. In our back yard is a catchment basin. It fills and the water goes into the ground in 36 hours. Where does all that water go?

The National Association delves into the local evil of the Three stooges trying to defeat the pool. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

NEW BLUES SINGLE - Ain't No Better Time To Leave the Cult Mr. Newberger's

Get over to see this on the National Association blog. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

NEW BLUES SINGLE - Ain't No Better Time To Leave the Cult

Mr. Newberger's

Free Money

The Battle for the Pool—and for Common Sense

The big battle is on. The Stooges — Steve Otto, Jim Ferris, and Charlie Bell — are doing everything in their power to drown the town’s chance to build a new swimming pool. Their strategy is simple: keep Payson stuck in the past while pretending it’s fiscal responsibility.

Last night at the town council meeting, Kadizzle raised one small but powerful question: What about the free money?

That’s right — free money. It’s called grants. When a town like Payson steps up and invests in a modern, shovel-ready project — like a community pool — it becomes eligible for millions in federal, state, and private grants. If Payson puts in $16 million, grants could easily add $8 to $14 million more. That’s a multiplier effect for taxpayers — turning local dollars into a regional investment.

But the Stooges don’t want to hear about that. To them, “grant” sounds suspiciously like “government,” and that word makes their MAGA ears twitch. Instead, they’ve convinced the trailer-park crowd that the only thing Payson can afford is another trip to the casino, a sleeve of tattoos, and maybe a new muffler for the truck.

It’s the same playbook Trump used on a national scale: get ordinary people to cheer against their own interests. They’ll call a pool “wasteful,” but won’t blink when their tax dollars are wasted on vanity projects or sweetheart deals for friends.

Meanwhile, the rest of us — the normal people — can see what a new pool really means:

• A place for kids to learn to swim instead of drown.

• A community asset that boosts property values.

• A magnet for tournaments and tourism that brings money back into local businesses.

This isn’t just about swimming. It’s about whether Payson wants to keep sinking into cynicism — or invest in itself like a real town with a future.

The Stooges can sneer all they want. But the rest of us know that when you combine community effort with grant funding, Payson dollars go twice as far.

It’s time to stop letting the loudest voices drag the town down to the lowest common denominator. We can’t build progress out of fear and fake frugality.

We can, however, build a pool — and a future — if we decide we’re worth the investment.

---

Payson's Three Stooges

The Three Stooges and the Great Payson Experiment

Somewhere between a MAGA rally and a bad rerun of The Three Stooges, three local Tea Party heroes — Steve Otto, Charlie Bell, and Jim Ferris — hatched a plan. They watched Donald Trump lie, cheat, and spin conspiracy gold out of air, and thought, “Hey, why not us?”

Their target wasn’t Washington. It was Payson, Arizona — the perfect test lab for political mischief where few bother to vote in primaries. The Stooges realized if you can get ten angry people in a church basement talking about the “deep state,” you can own the whole town.

So they did what all great political opportunists do: they found the gullible and fed them paranoia. The “deep state” became the town librarian. Fiscal responsibility meant gutting schools. And civic progress — like building a swimming pool for kids — became socialism.

It worked like a charm. The MAGA crowd lapped it up like Bud Light before the boycott. Soon the Stooges were in charge. And what happens when you put three men with the IQ of a ham sandwich in charge? They start wrecking the place.

They tried to defund the library, starve the schools, and now they’re on a crusade to kill the new pool — because, apparently, chlorine is woke. Their latest stunt? Handing all council power to the city manager — the one they picked, of course — turning democracy into a puppet show.

The professionals who once made town government function fled the building. What’s left is the Stooges, their hand-picked “yes man,” and a sinking ship they insist is “running great.”

So, good luck, Payson. The experiment continues. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Trumpism ran a small town — congratulations, you’re living in the pilot episode.

---

Down in the Forest

For no known reason Kadizzle got tired of the old bike routes and decided to take the ebike down Boulder Trail.  Kadizzle encountered a problem. Logs blocked the trail in two places. One log was less than half the size of the other, but the smaller log turned out to be more of a problem. Using a handsaw, and a block and tackle Kadizzle defeated the small log. That was one days work. Yesterday Kadizzle returned to cut the bigger log. That log was rotten and much easier to cut and remove. Kadizzle hoped a hiker would come along and assist, but none showed up. 

Now for the grand disappointment. Kadizzle thought he could extend the bikeable part of the trail by cutting the logs, but he never checked to see how much good trail was left after the logs. Whoops, the answer was very little. So the work did not benefit the ebiker much, but at least it will make life better for the hikers. 

Over on the National Association blog you can read about Bondi the bitch. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

One more time the sun is coming up

The Town of Haves, Have-Nots, and the Hopelessly Unaware

Here we are again in the little town of the haves and the have-nots — and today, the battleground is a swimming pool.

Kadizzle woke up early, coffee in hand, and went straight to the letters to the editor. It was a good morning for common sense: the “normal people” made their case loud and clear. They understand that a new pool isn’t a luxury — it’s an investment in kids, families, and community.

But the MAGA dogs were barking too. The three stooges — Otto, Bell, and Ferris — have learned the old trick: appeal to the crowd that’s been left behind, stir up resentment, and sell fear instead of hope. They tell the struggling folks that a pool is just for “the rich,” as if kids from broken-down neighborhoods don’t need to learn to swim.

Then there’s the third group — maybe the most dangerous of all — the ones who just don’t care. These are the people who sleep through elections and wonder later how the Tea Party crowd took over their town council. While Fox News preaches about “the deep state,” the stooges follow the Trump playbook chapter and verse: distract, divide, and deceive.

Now the vote is near. Payson has no functioning pool, and the bond measure will show what kind of town this really is. Will the zombies of apathy rise again, or will the sane citizens of Payson finally say enough — and choose progress over paranoia?  A different spin over on the National Association blog.   https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Heritage - 'Working Man'

Old Kadizzle started his career as an underground coal miner. Have the utmost respect for coal miners. This song brings it out. 

Awake

Monday Morning Ignition

Kadizzle is awake. The ritual begins: coffee as starting fluid. One cup to get the mind humming, another to get the gears meshing, and by the third, the engine starts to sputter out a few thoughts. The New York Times provides the spark — a depressing reminder that democracy, like an old dragline at a coal mine, needs constant maintenance or the whole thing starts to slide back into the pit.

That image stuck this morning — the spoils slide. Back when Kadizzle worked at a surface mine, he watched how gravity never quits. Pile the overburden too high, and slowly, quietly, the dirt creeps back over what you worked so hard to uncover. That’s what’s happening to our freedom under Trump’s creeping dictatorship — a slow-motion disaster, inch by inch, while most people sip their coffee and don’t notice the ground moving beneath them.

Now it’s Monday, and the national erosion mirrors the local one. Two battles define the week in Payson:
the fight for a pool and the fight for power.

The MAGA three — Otto, Bell, and Ferris — are working overtime to hand over the Town Council’s authority to the city manager. It’s a power grab dressed up as “efficiency,” but it smells like Trump’s playbook — weaken the checks, centralize control, and make sure the lapdog barks on command. A local version of a national disease.

And then there’s the pool. The same stooges who scream “freedom” are doing their best to block the one thing this town’s kids desperately need — a place to swim. They’ve turned civic progress into a partisan war.

So yes, it’s Monday. Coffee’s gone cold, democracy’s still sliding, and Wednesday’s Town Council meeting will be one hell of a show. The question is: will the normal folks of Payson stand up and stop the slide before we’re all buried in the spoils?

---

Help Find Red

---

Looking for Red

Kadizzle met Red under some unusual circumstances—details classified until we meet in person. But here’s what matters: Red is a good guy, one of those people life has hit hard but who keeps pushing forward anyway. Like too many others, he’s been chewed up by the same system that props up Trump-style “bootstrap” fantasies—the kind that say, “If you’re struggling, it’s your fault,” while billionaires fly overhead in private jets.

Red’s trying to make an honest living. He’s got an electric bike, a small trailer, and a chainsaw. With that, he does fire-wising—clearing brush and trees around homes to reduce wildfire risk. Think about that: the guy’s out there helping protect our town from California-style infernos, one yard at a time, running on batteries and grit.

Kadizzle told Red he’d help him find a better gig. And believe it or not, it worked—fast. A kind local contractor, heading up a major fire-protection project south of town, said he’d be happy to bring Red on board.

But here’s the snag: the phone number Red gave doesn’t work. No answer, no voicemail, nothing. So now it’s a bit of a mission.

If you see Red—riding that electric bike with the little trailer and a chainsaw strapped on—tell him Mike’s looking for him. There’s a job waiting.

Maybe, just maybe, you can help close the loop on a small-town good deed.

Over on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog:  A summary of a good presentation at the Donut meeting yesterday.   https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

How to be a real manly man

“The Manhood Starter Pack” You ever notice how being a real man these days requires an accessories department?

First up — the truck.
Not just any truck — it has to sound like a collapsing oil rig every time you start it. If your exhaust isn’t rattling windows two counties over, sorry bro, you’re still in the beta version of manhood.

Then come the tattoos.
Nothing says “I’m comfortable in my own skin” like covering every square inch of it with flaming skulls and badly drawn eagles. Bonus points if your tattoo artist was also your probation officer.

Still not feeling tough enough? No problem.
Get a gun. Because nothing screams confidence like needing a weapon to pick up a rotisserie chicken at Safeway.

But wait, the kit’s not complete — you need a girlfriend.
Preferably one with matching tats, ripped jeans, and a PhD in eye-rolling. Her job is to sit on the back of your Harley while you rev the engine at red lights like a bull elk trying to impress a Prius.

And the truck — oh, you thought we were done with the truck?
Jack that thing up until you need a stepladder to get in. Those wheels should be visible from space. And don’t forget the giant American flag flapping off the tailgate — because nothing honors the flag like dragging it through the dust at 60 miles per hour while blasting Kid Rock.

Then it’s time to parade through town — exhaust roaring, testosterone leaking — because apparently the best way to prove you’re a man is to sound like your muffler’s having an emotional breakdown.

Congratulations, champ. You did it. You’ve achieved peak masculinity — king of the Applebee’s parking lot.
Now, if you’ll excuse us, the rest of the world’s going to quietly go about being men without needing a sound system, a weapon, or a sponsorship from Monster Energy.

Over on the other blog a good satire of Trump's lying about military recruiting.   https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

The Whistledick erased my sign

---

The Pool, the Stooges, and the Dingers

Payson desperately needs a new swimming pool. Everyone knows it. But the MAGA Three Stooges—Steve Otto, Jim Ferris, and Charlie Bell—would rather rile up the Tea Party crowd than do something good for the kids.

Their base? Folks living busted flat in ramshackle houses, forever convinced someone else is to blame for their problems. Funny how it’s never the casino vacuuming up their Social Security checks while the poor dog behind the chain-link fence goes hungry.

Kadizzle is for the pool. The dingers are against it. Simple.

So down at the park, Kadizzle set up a little whiteboard that read: Vote YES for the Pool. Nothing fancy, just leaning against a post. He went back to the car to watch. Sure enough, along comes a MAGA dinger, sporting the universal IQ test failure badge: an NRA hat.

Thinking no one was watching, the dinger started erasing the sign. That’s when Kadizzle strolled over.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not allowed to put signs in the park,” the dinger huffed.

Kadizzle explained that, unless the town itself objected, it wasn’t his job to enforce sign policy. After all, the Jehovah’s Witnesses pitch their pamphlets there every day without incident. And the pool isn’t partisan—it’s not Republican or Democrat. It’s about whether kids get to swim in something cleaner than a mud puddle.

The argument cooled. Kadizzle asked the man if he was a grandfather. He was—nine grandkids.

“Then why,” Kadizzle asked, “would you oppose a pool for them?”

The dinger couldn’t quite say. He never admitted he was against the pool. He just felt obligated to erase the sign, like it was his sacred MAGA duty. Because in their world, opposing progress isn’t a choice—it’s a reflex. 

Over on the Association blog read about the macho men leading our country.   https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Get Over to the other blog.

Wow, a very good video on The National Association for Humanity blog . A good historian talks about comparing Trump to Hitler.  https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Hymn for the Crossing Listen to the words

Where is Red?

---

Looking for Red

The sun came up once again, promising a day with near-perfect weather. The question is always the same: what to do with it?

For Kadizzle, today comes with a mission—and a bit of a mystery. Where is Red?

Red is one of those characters who lives on the edge. He does firewising around Payson with nothing more than an electric bike and a chainsaw. That’s his whole operation. He needs work, and Kadizzle managed to line up a job for him. The problem is finding him.

Red gave Kadizzle a phone number, but like so many things in his world, it doesn’t work anymore. Most likely the bill went unpaid. That’s the struggle of being essentially homeless, trying to keep yourself afloat with odd jobs and grit.

So maybe today’s task isn’t just another day under a perfect sky. Maybe today’s job is finding Red.

---

Under The Willow Tree

---

Almost every evening, under the great willow at Green Valley Park, a little circle of old-timers gathers to watch the sun slip behind the horizon. As autumn cools the air, the jackets come out and the gathering shifts a little earlier. It’s part ritual, part survival—because growing old is easier when you don’t do it alone.

The walkers drift past with their dogs, and the dogs are practically the heartbeat of the park. Everyone has one—grandmothers, retirees, families—and they all stop for a quick sniff-and-greet. While the dogs mingle, their humans do the same.

The talk under the willow drifts with the breeze: aches, pains, doctor’s visits, the small triumphs and tragedies of aging. If no Hoopleheads or MAGA mutts are in earshot, the conversation sometimes turns to politics—usually some fresh insanity from Trump’s gang. Otherwise, it’s the ordinary chatter of life lived day by day.

And maybe that’s the point. Growing old means crumbling here and there, but a little laughter, a little companionship, and a lot of dogs make the crumble easier to bear.  

Over on the National Association blog a review of Trump's mental illness.

---