to help navigate my portfolio . . . —

and half the people in the US couldn’t care less . . . — (QUOTED FROM THE ARTICLE FEATURED BELOW) President Zelensky (of Ukraine) was here in the US this week and his face has changed drastically. He looks FUCKING RAGE FILLED now. He walks differently. He barreled down the halls of congress like a freight train, beside several of our old wimpy heads…

feel free to tell me how to improve . . . — I must be losing my perspective, when it comes to reviewing other writers. I have gotten loud complaints about my reviews this week, when I thought I was offering constructive criticism. I did not think I was “HARSH AND UNKIND” . . . but I’ve been told so lately. Some…

tried not to pressure Tommy, but . . . — Mostly I respected my thirty-year-old virgin friend. But once in a while Tommy might’ve felt a little pressured by me and I regret that.

doing my first seventy-five-mile day . . . — What I was doing out there, riding my bicycle across the USA, provoked people to delve into their own dreams while talking to me. It was a real taste of America.

can come from out of the blue . . . — As an OCD bipolar person, my mind can feel like it’s zooming across the wavy up-and-down prairie-scape. The way the ole gut does a somersault when I hit the top of a mound and start diving back down. My first thirty years I was mostly manic, rather than depressed. Bipolar…

loaded panniers make riding much harder . . . — Tuesday, July 31, 1990 Dear Tom, I stopped by both the “New Rad Pad” and the “Love Shack” as I cruised outa town a little after noon. No luck! You were gone! Oh well! I had to learn to be independent right off the bat. I called you at both…

can’t wait ’til we meet in Colorado . . . — The week before I embarked on my two-thousand-mile bike trek, I did the annual week-long summer camping trip with my family. Vigorous hiking in the forested mountains of northern California would be my final prep. This handwritten letter (by me) was written while camping, as I enthused over my upcoming…

tho wide swaths of our sojourn be stodgy… —