Monday, September 28, 2026

Gratitude Monday: A duty and a privilege

Early voting for this year’s midterm elections started in Virginia on the 18th. That in itself is a source of gratitude for me because up until about 20 years ago, the Old Dominion was absolutely dug in on the hill of Vote Only on Election Day. If you wanted an absentee ballot, or to vote early, you had to hawk up a valid reason why you could not show up on Election Day and wait a few hours in a line extending into the neighborhood like the Baptist God intended.

But ever since I moved back from The Valley They Call Silicon (where I used to walk half a block to the fire station and didn’t have to show ID; they just marked my name off a paper register), I’ve been so grateful that we’ve moved into the late 20th Century.

Having flexibility in how and when you cast your ballot literally means more people can exercise their constitutional right to vote. Many citizens work at places that don’t give you time off to vote; fulfilling your civic obligation can literally cost you money if you have to take time off from work. Even at places that do, the two hours might not be enough when your precinct has heavy turnout and the line is long.

(Interestingly, when I worked at an association in D.C. that did allow two hours on Election Day, one year the head of HR sent round an email advising employees—we had a greater concentration of Ph.D. scientists than some mid-sized universities—that the organization knew that polls in Maryland, D.C. and Virginia opened at 0700 and stayed open until 1900, so they would view it as taking the piss (I paraphrase) if people availed themselves of the time off as stated in the manual. That went over well.)

This year voting is especially fraught. Republicans all up and down the line are frantically trying to restrict who votes. State legislatures are gerrymandering districts to skew right. Where that doesn’t go far enough, they’re closing polling stations in Democratic districts and removing ballot drop boxes to make it more difficult for people there to vote. Many states (mostly South of the Mason-Dixon Line) have made it illegal to provide food or water for people waiting in line to vote in hopes that will discourage the elderly and infirm from showing up.

The Kleptocrat has demanded that states turn over voting rolls (so far every one has been quashed in the courts) and that the USPS dick with ballots sent out and returned by mail. (So far it seems like that also has been stymied by the courts.) He’s proclaimed that he’s going to send federal troops and ICE to (Democratic) polling stations on Election Day to “police” them. Meaning: intimidate and even abduct anyone who doesn’t look white enough.

There are even reports that he’s going to declare martial law in an attempt to cancel the elections altogether. This, of course, would be met with a tsunami of law suits and provoke a constitutional crisis. (For one thing, the 119th Congress expires on 3 January 2027 and without duly-elected Representatives, there’s no House. Now, some might say that such a thing would be an improvement, or at least that no one would notice any difference in productivity, but this would still be a crisis.)

For the record, the United States of America has held elections through every crisis in our history, including two world wars and a civil war when armed enemy territory began at the Potomac River, a couple of miles from the US Capitol. Having a corrupt dementia-rotted sitting president, a spineless Congress and an ideology-driven SCOTUS is indeed disastrous, but that’s no reason to cancel elections.

In fact, elections are the start of the solution to this dumpster fire. Which every Republican understands; that’s why they’re so desperate to restrict and repress voting.

Anyway—I voted last week. As I cast my ballot (not a whole lot of choice, really; the Democratic incumbents for Senator and Representative essentially have a sinecure in my district, which is better than saying the same for Republicans, but I’d still prefer that they have a lean and hungry look), I thought about the millions of people around the world who would marvel at such a thing. Walked up, handed over my ID (which I understand from Republicans I have to do when I buy groceries?), got my ballot and registered my opinion on candidates and state and county measures.

That, dear reader, is a miracle that generations of our forebears have wrought with their blood and treasure. That it is under threat from the highest office holders in the land is despicable. But I’m grateful for the privilege.


 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Friday, September 25, 2026

The road rushing under my wheels

Considering the state of fossil fuels this past week, courtesy of the War to Entertain the Narcissistic Kleptocrat that’s been over-in-two-weeks since it started in February (and now predicted by his sphincter to be ending “after the elections”), I’ve been thinking about a song from my college years.

There was a video on the socials of a trucker not filling the tank of his semi with diesel, but stopping the flow when the total hit $1000. “That’s a first for me,” he commented.

(I topped up the tank of my Saab at Costco yesterday. For the first time not-in-California, regular was $4.10/gallon. I paid $42 for half a tank.)

So here’s Jackson Browne singing the newly apt “Running on Empty”.


 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Thursday, September 24, 2026

Roadside commerce

On one of my walks last week, I noticed this setup between a townhouse cluster and the local private golf course.

(Interestingly, this course is owned by developers who’ve been trying for about a decade to fill all the space with townhouses. Same thing’s happening with the public course on the other side of the People’s Republic. Watching the furor on both sides of the fight has been interesting.)

So I walked over to see what it was. It was American Free Enterprise at work.

This is located on the second hole of the course, so I don’t know how many golfers will feel the need of extra balls that early in a round. I also know nothing about the economics of golf, so I have no earthly notion whether $2 per ball is an attractive price.

I did find it interesting that there’s a quasi-honor system: up to you whether you pay, but if you do, once your money’s in the slot, it’s secure.

Unless someone wants to take the whole thing.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Inhospitable

This may look like a mundane stretch of trendy 2020s commercial pedestrian design to you, but it’s actually the last resting place of scores of spotted lanternflies.


I noticed them on my way to the Korean bakery last week. I have no idea what about this environment has caused the scourge of Northern Virginia to die in their dozens, but their corpses littered the sidewalk all the way to the street.

Considering the damage they do and how hard it is to eradicate them, I this seems like a good start.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

Coffee break

A couple of weeks ago I was helping a local food pantry by sorting through donations—checking for expiration dates, package damage, etc. I’m not entirely sure where the donations came from, but it was a wild variety of canned goods, staples, snacks and outright junk food. (We don’t, apparently judge.)

WRT expiration dates, if they were prior to the next distribution (which was last Thursday), they were shelved. If on the cusp or slightly beyond (depending on the type of food), they were passed on to the local shelter for our unhoused neighbors. If beyond the beyond, they were tossed.

(The most out-of-date was something with an expiration year of 2014.)

The most interesting thing that passed through my hands was this packet of instant hazelnut mocha latte. Interesting because it’s apparently infused with collagen and protein, and that kind of scares me.

It was out-of-date, so I binned it.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

 

Monday, September 21, 2026

Gratitude Monday: Beautiful encounter

Here’s my gratitude today: on one of my walks last week, I noticed a bright, tiny movement right at the edge of my vision, so I stopped.

It was this:

How could I fail to be grateful for that?

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Friday, September 18, 2026

A dream that meant nothing

I discovered today’s earworm via a recommendation from a friend. He and I agree on a lot of things, but generally speaking, music and reading genres aren’t among them. However, this piece has grown on me every time I watch it.

(I say “watch” because in this case, the video images are integral to the impact of the music and words.)

Particularly given the events of the past week, culminating in the Kleptocrat fixin’ to demolish the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts because he’s not allowed to put his fucking name on it.

(Another—unrelated, but not entirely, really—beyond-the-beyond event was Mitch McConnell wheeled insensate in to the Senate after being AWOL for three months and nearly voting with Democrats on a motion until his minders “corrected” him because he’s literally gaga.)

I seriously do not understand why no one has piped up about the emperor being stitch stark bonkers.

So, here’s “America”, by London Grammar.


 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

 

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Labor of love

Dunno about you, but this bee loaded down with pollen makes me so happy.

 


©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Not vanity, but memorable

Okay, this is not a vanity plate. But I swear that when I first glanced at it, I thought it said “THE LASS”, and that became unseeable.


©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Sigh

Okay, well—if Costco is going to put up its Halloween décor at the beginning of August, I suppose it makes sense for them to roll out the Christmas stuff before we’ve even hit the Ides of September.




It’s really quite terrifying, because I know there’ll be more every time I make a butter and bread flour run.

 

©2026 Bas Bleu