I'm Not A Trophy

        We are in the midst of a mass extinction. Wildlife numbers are plummeting everywhere, with grave risks to the biosphere. Yet, wild animals are still being hunted all over the world. That makes no sense. It's high time to take a closer look at these practices.

        Some hunters claim that they contribute positively to conservation by managing the numbers of certain animals. They claim that their license fees pay for that conservation. That is not true.

        Managing wildlife populations can be complicated, although the basics are simple. In a healthy ecosystem, nature keeps animal populations in check. It has done so for hundreds of millions of years with spectacular success. By contrast, humans have completely messed up the natural world in a few hundred years.

        The numbers of all wild animals depend first and foremost on the carrying capacity of their habitats, mainly the availability of food and water, which determine how many animals can live there.

        If the number of animals is less than the maximum, they thrive and multiply until there are too many. Then, the weaker animals die or don't breed, and the number of animals goes down again.

        Predators play a vital role in this process by selecting the sick, the weak, and the old. But, having done that, those predators find it harder to catch the remaining prey animals because they deal with fitter individuals. Hence, their numbers also decrease, keeping the whole system balanced, with some annual fluctuations.

        Things become complicated if this balance is disturbed and there appear to be too many animals of a particular species. This may have many causes. To understand the problem, it must be studied by professionals with expert knowledge of ecology, wildlife, habitats, and ecosystems.

        Recreational hunters don't have that knowledge. It does not interest them either. They have been around for thousands of years, yet they have contributed little to our knowledge and understanding of the natural world. They want to hunt.

        Even if the recreational hunter could be properly educated, he is still heavily biased in favor of shooting. Therefore, he will not look for alternatives that make him redundant, even if they are better for the environment.

        Unlike natural predators, the recreational hunter does not select weak, sick, old animals but good-looking ones, often (though not always) the fittest. This reduces populations' overall fitness, while removing high-ranking animals can seriously harm existing social structures.

        And this is where psychology can begin to shed some light on what motivates people to hunt.

        It has been suggested that Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and (non-clinical) Psychopathy are all involved, the so-called "dark triad" of personality characteristics.

        Narcissists have an inflated sense of self and crave positive attention. To maintain this inflated level of self-esteem, they must engage in strategies to preserve and develop their self-image, like posing with a coyote they've just killed. Like carefully managed social media, Machiavellians often manipulate social situations for their own ends.

        We can no longer afford to turn a deaf ear to the future. If we do not act now, the future will be silent except for the guile-laden, war-ravaging, profit-mongering voice of a young species called Homo sapiens, which took the life force for granted and conducted itself in a manner that led to extinction now upon us. For far too long, men thought they were superior to women. For far too long, whites thought they were superior to people of color. For far too long, humans have thought they were superior to animals. For far too long, humans considered themselves the crowning achievement of life on Earth. If life persists with even the semblance of the species Earth once had by century's end, it will be a miracle. If we don't, the world's hunters will have plenty to answer for because of their ethos; their conduct is part of the warrior behavior that puts a bullet in a coyote's brain because it can. We are very close to the point where nature no longer uses us. We are unraveling the life force.

        Our species used to kill to survive because we did not have a choice. Today, we must choose life before it withers before the tremendous cosmos of what this Earth once encompassed. Unfortunately, the world's animals, the backbone of existence, have been treated like expendable resources and garbage for far too long. The cave dwellers of 50,000 years ago had far more respect for life. As a result, animal populations are collapsing, and our civilization will, too.

        We have to change as a species before it's too late.

 

 

                                                Zapping

        Zapping your TV with your remote is one way to avoid being irritated by all the television. There are other possibilities for a person who wants to avoid television commercials. One drastic solution is to sell your TV, which has been known to be 100 percent successful but also quite dull. Another way to avoid TV commercials is only to watch those TV channels that are broadcasting without any interruptions for commercials. This works but will limit your options when searching for an interesting channel. So, in this article, we will deal with zapping as it has become the best solution for most people.

         You will need these items:

         A device that can receive one or more channels, including premium streaming channels. Most people use a TV for this.

• A remote control that is functioning. Although some people regard a remote control as a luxury item, using one is vital for comfortable zapping.
• Something that can press the buttons on the remote control. I prefer a human hand, and I suggest one connected to your current body for easy control.

         Follow these steps when you practice zapping:

         Place yourself so you can observe what's happening on the TV screen. You can stand or sit since it doesn't make any difference.

1. Turn the TV on.
2. Select one of the TV channels.
3. Wait until you recognize that a commercial is being broadcast. (This can be tricky to see, but after some years of practice, most people can detect when a commercial is seen. You have to look for happy people who have been miraculously cured by some medication that, for some bizarre reason, cannot be described in the ad)
4. Push one of the buttons on the remote control to change to another TV channel.
5. Watch the new TV channel now visible on the screen.
6. If you find that the new channel also transmits commercials, you have to repeat step 5.
7. When you have found a channel that isn't showing a commercial, you can continue watching until a commercial appears.
8. If a commercial becomes visible, you must return to step 5.

         You have now eliminated the commercials from your life. It may be challenging to follow the storylines of the show you are watching, but you can always use your imagination or Google.

         Some more or less severe problems arise when you get used to zapping.

         The most notable problem with zapping is that whenever you start to zap, you can't seem to stop. This can be most annoying, and much willpower must be used to minimize the time spent zapping.

• Simultaneous watching of two or more TV channels can make your eyes and brain deny access to their basic functionality. Here is a classic case of overloading, which can be avoided after some training. You must start with two channels you are zapping between, then add one more channel simultaneously. Remember, an expert can watch four channels at the same time.
• The TV can give up and stop working because you have put a blunt object through its screen. While zapping, you couldn't find TV channels that didn't show you commercials all evening.
• The remote control can suddenly be missing. If this happens, try to be calm and rationally search the surroundings. The remote is often tired of your continuous zapping and can be found hiding on the floor.
• If more than one person is present or if you are a bit schizophrenic, a problem can arise about which channel should be visible on the TV. Violence is often the only way to solve this problem.
• Repetitive strain injures the hand that pushes the buttons on the remote control you use to control the TV screen you are watching. The acronym for this condition is RSI. ..Remote Stress Injury.

 

        When all else fails, only watch Premium channels, spending hundreds of dollars a year.

 

 

 

                                    You Are Not Welcome

         We have several signs around our property that say things like, “Do Not Enter,” “Beware of Dog,” “No Trespassing,” “If you can read this, you’re in range,” “No Soliciting,” “Smile, you’re on camera,” etc. It’s a country home. It’s rural. We have a dog, signs, cameras, guns, and a half-mile-long gravel driveway. We are NOT “solicitor-friendly.”

        I noticed that the cameras were occasionally alerting on the driveway with a red sedan, maybe once a week or so. A guy would walk to the door, knock, and then leave when there was no answer. He never left a card or anything.

        Usually, if I’m out on the property, on my lawnmower, or working in the garden, I’ll have a gun on my hip to deal with snakes or other wildlife. It is Vermont, and there are no laws about carrying a weapon, open or concealed.

        Two Jehova Witnesses once ignored all my warnings and stopped at the house. Rather than go off on a rant and tell them to leave, I just said that I was a Jehova Witness as a child and that later I was Disfellowshipped. They left without saying a word.

        On another occasion, I was at the house. There was a knock, so I opened the door. I just got in for lunch and wore muck boots, flannel, dirty jeans… and a gun. A holstered gun that was never touched. Not once.

Me: *Matter-of-factly* “Can I help you?”

This poor lad turned five shades of white.

Man: “I- I’m s-s-so sorry t-to disturb y-you!”

And he retreated quicker than a rabbit.

Thirty minutes later, a local deputy knocked on the door.

Deputy: “We got a report that you pulled a gun and threatened someone who came here.”

        He knew me and knew that wouldn’t happen unless unavoidably necessary. My cameras showed only outside the house, not anyone inside the house at the door, so they didn’t show me. My cameras did, however, show this dimwit blowing past multiple signs warning people not to enter the property and him doing so anyway. The officer laughed, we chatted a while, and he left.

        There have been no further uninvited visitors, and I still don’t know what he wanted.

 

                      

     

                                    Winter Doldrums

    Al Roker of NBC often says, “That’s what’s going on around the country; here’s what’s happening in your neck of the woods” when transitioning from the national weather broadcast to the local affiliate. These are the words I hate to hear in the wintertime as I listen to the local forecast.

    Darkness. Rain. Punishing winds. Gray skies. “Oh God, when will it end?” These are some words that come to mind when thinking of Vermont winters.

    September, when the sun still occasionally shines in Vermont, is an excellent moment to prepare yourself mentally, physically, and spiritually for the coming winter, which I call “the dark time.”

    Darkness will descend upon the land very quickly. One October morning, you wake up around 7:00 a.m., and it’s still light out, and the birds are singing, but seemingly only a few mornings later, after Daylight Savings,  you will notice it’s as dark as midnight. Every day, it seems like you lose a half hour of sunlight.

    Some people embrace the winter. “Maybe we will get snow and ice this year!” they say hopefully as if that’s a good thing. But not all are so enthusiastic. A friend once  told me the only sensible thing to do would be to “move all of Vermont, brick by brick, to the south of France.”

    The days and nights lead many to despair. Don’t let this happen to you! Here are some tips for surviving the Vermont winter.

*   Start talking early and often about how much you look forward to spring. Keep telling yourself that “spring is coming soon,” even when it’s December, January, or February.

*   Light many candles to re-create this same magical ambiance in the comfort of your home and maybe a fire in your wood-burning stove or fireplace.

* You don’t need a lot of fancy equipment to make fondue, but consider this your excuse to get a fondue pot if you’ve been looking for one. Slice up some fruit and crusty bread, grab some crackers or veggies and cubed meat, and get to dipping in your choice of cheese, chocolate, or hot oil.

* Make yourself a cup of tea, grab a comfy blanket, and cozy up with a good book. Escaping into another world feels especially great when a snowstorm roars outside.

* Doing puzzles can help fight brain aging, not to mention the hours slipping by. Buy one at a local gift shop and set up a table in the house, or browse the many sites on the Internet offering puzzles.

* How about getting in your comfy jammies, grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, and spending chill time binge-watching a fun TV series?

* Read by the fire. The fire is even better when you have a great book to read.

    Suppose you are inclined to go outdoors and risk frostbite, slipping and falling, or breaking a hip. You can start by running around the house looking for your winter boots that you “packed away” for the summer and a pair of heavy wool socks. Wearing a heavy parka, a scarf, and your Faux Fur Trapper Cap would be best.

Here are some ideas for enjoying the great outdoors.

* Go skiing or snowboarding, a sport the whole family can enjoy. Of course, a lift ticket will cost you over a hundred dollars, and you must pay for parking. If it is jam-packed, the lift lines will be long, and you might get ten runs during the day. Don’t forget the cost of equipment.

* Go sledding. Sledding is one of those simple joys people of any age can enjoy. The next time you get served with a few inches of snow, head outside with a sled and find a tall but not too steep hill near you. You must be careful and not lose control of your sled and crash into a tree.

* Take a winter hike or snowshoeing.  You’ll want to wear several layers of clothing to help you stay dry and comfortable, and aim to cover as much of your bare skin as possible. The chances of getting frostbite or hypothermia are great. You also might get lost.

* Build a snowman.  Building a snowman is a favorite winter activity, but you don’t have to be 12 or under to enjoy patching your own Frosty together. Create a unique silhouette or non-traditional accessories to personalize your snow sculpture. You could try to build one to look like Trump. You will need a lot of orange-colored food dye for the face and a handful of yellow straw for some hair.

* Have a snowball fight with your neighbor, but make sure you wear protective headgear, as he has a habit of freezing the globs of snow.

   Winter, of course, is cold and flu season. Wash your hands frequently in hot water and soap. 

    Despite all precautions, you may develop a condition known as “perma-cold,” whereby you have cold symptoms for four solid months, and you may believe you are dying. No matter how miserable you become, most doctors will be philosophical about your suffering and prescribe only tea and sleep. Other people will suggest traditional remedies such as  Jägermeister.

     Further, develop and refine your convictions about Vermont weather. Is it better when it’s freezing and icy because at least you can see some blue sky? Or do you prefer the perpetual gray weather? Is the weather predestined, or is it just a matter of chance? 

 

                                Super Bowl Piranha

 

 The six-inch-long piranha circled its new home with all its sharp teeth showing.

            "You're sure having one is legal?" Dean asked.  He owned La Dolce Vita restaurant, the site of the new Piranha aquarium.

            "Don't worry about it.  I've had piranha-like this for years," Bumper Poole replied.  He owned Fins and Things, located next door.

            "How much bigger is it going to get?"

            "That's the adult size.  Now, you can't act freaked out.  You're supposed to have owned it for a long time."

            As Bumper finished speaking, the glass door to La Dolce Vita's lobby swung open.  A man wearing a sports jacket and cloth facemask walked in, followed by someone carrying a news camera.

            "I'm Chad from Channel 5.  I'm looking for Dean," the man in the jacket announced.

           Dean and Bumper looked at each other and hurried to put on their face masks.  They were an unusual pairing.  Dean wore a long-sleeved silky shirt.  His salt and pepper hair made him look distinguished and severe.  Bumper was tall and greyhound skinny.  Despite the winter weather, he wore a tank top and constantly looked like he was nervously robbing a convenience store.

            "I'm the guy you're looking for," Dean said.  "You’re here about the fish, right?”

            “I’m a sports guy, so I’m not usually interested in fish stories.  But if he can pick the Super Bowl, then I’m interested.”

            “He’s picked the winner for the last seven years,” Bumper interjected.

            “You work here too?” Chad asked Bumper.

            “No, I own the shop next door.  That’s where the fish came from.  Me and Dean are friends.  We discovered the whole Super Bowl thing together.”

            “So how does he do it?  Swim through a hoop or tap on the glass or something?”

            “Nah, we have these little shrimp pellets, and we dye them the team colors,” Bumper answered.  “The number of pellets he eats equals the team score.  He doesn’t get the score exactly right, but he always picks the winner.”

            Chad walked closer to the tank and stared at the piranha.  He turned to his camera guy and asked, “You think you can get a good shot of him swimming around?”

            “Yeah, sure.”

            “And you’re ready for him to make the picks for this year?” Chad asked Dean and Bumper.

            Bumper held up two plastic containers holding shrimp pellets.  “Ready.”

            “I hope he has a name.  I don’t want to keep calling him “the fish” when I’m talking about this.”

            Bumper’s face froze like he was caught with his hand up a vending machine. Dean stayed cool and almost immediately replied, “We call him Moses.  You know, like the prophet in the Bible because he’s predicting things.”

            “Alright, let’s do this with Moses, the piranha,” Chad declared.

            Bumper and Dean sprinkled the colorful pellets on the water with the camera positioned in front of the aquarium.  Chad dictated the action as Moses swam around and chomped.  Ultimately, he ate thirty-one gray pellets and nine red ones before growing disinterested.

            “You heard it here first, folks,” Chad said into the camera.  “Moses picked your Super Bowl LV score: Tampa Bay 31, Kansas City 9.”

            As Chad walked out the door, he turned to say how he could probably get the story on air that night because people loved Super Bowl prediction stuff.  Dean and Bumper shared a glance as if they had gotten away with something.

            Fins and Things and La Dolce Vita had moved into the same strip mall twelve years earlier.  For most of those years, their owners were cordial but nothing like friends.  Bumper built his business selling interesting fish and reptiles.  He advised his customers to keep healthy aquariums and terrariums; people returned for more.  Eventually, Bumper had three full-time employees, and his business was like his child.  He saw himself reflected in the signs on the door and the aisles of animals for sale.

            Dean’s feelings about his restaurant ran even more profound.  He had worked in a kitchen before venturing out on his own.  He knew most new restaurants fail, but he took the risk anyway and borrowed money from relatives and a bank.  During the first few years, he went to bed every night worrying about bankruptcy.  But he was in a good location and making good food.

            More and more people returned for lunch and dinner.  Bankruptcy fell off Dean’s list of worries as he grew to a staff of twenty people working the kitchen and the dining room.  One of the unique features of La Dolce Vita was a large window overlooking the local high school’s stadium.  The restaurant would be packed with customers who treated it like a luxury viewing suite during football games.

            La Dolce Vita made good money, and Dean saved a healthy chunk of it.  Then, in early 2020, everything changed overnight.  Covid restrictions closed Dean’s dining room. What began as a two-week vacation for his staff led to most of them being laid off.  Dean kept a skeleton crew and tried to switch to a takeout menu, but a good part of La Dolce Vita’s appeal was its atmosphere.  It was hard to duplicate that in paper bags in the lobby.

            Next door, at Fins and Things, Bumper let go of his staff, too.  He tried to sell fish and snakes on a website, but few people were interested in picking up animals outside Bumper’s door without first seeing them in person.

            Dean and Bumper continued driving to the strip mall to watch their life’s work get erased.  Often, the only cars in the parking lot belonged to them.  One day, as they were both outside squinting angrily at the sun, Dean invited Bumper for a drink.

            Next to the window overlooking the high school, the two businessmen sipped from bottles and complained about the government and the world's unfairness.  The experience was so therapeutic their meetings became a routine.  They complained a lot about how the world owed them something, but they also shared ideas on starting over.  Their favorite conversation starter was asking, “What would you do with $10,000?”

            During one of their regular sessions, they came up with the idea of a Super Bowl predicting fish.  It was supposed to bring free publicity to the restaurant and Fish and Things.  Their old customers would be reminded to come back as soon as possible.  Bumper already had a family of piranhas.  Setting up an aquarium in La Dolce Vita’s lobby was easy.  It was also easy to convince a sports reporter their fish had a winning streak going.

            When Dean and Bumper had imagined things playing out, they hoped they would get lucky enough for the fish to pick the winner.  In the closing seconds of Super Bowl LV, they realized they had unleashed a phenomenon.  Moses picked the exact final score – Tampa Bay 31 and Kansas City 9.

            Chad, the sports reporter, called as soon as the game ended.  He did a follow-up story, passed on to the national network.  Moses made news across the country as Chad reported that the fish had now correctly picked eight Super Bowls in a row and nailed the score from the last one.

            If Dean and Bumper had not been solid friends and conspirators, they may have fought for custody of Moses.  But they agreed he should remain in La Dolce Vita’s lobby surrounded by signs explaining why he was famous.  One of the signs encouraged restaurant customers to visit Fins and Things next door.  Bumper was content with advertising that his store was the birthplace of the world’s most famous predictive piranha.

            The signs and Moses’ YouTube channel were significant parts of the plan to bring customers back.  As Covid restrictions eased up during 2021, more and more people could sit in Dean’s restaurant.  Before eating, they all stopped to admire Moses.

            “If you like him, don’t forget to visit his friends next door,” Dean told his diners.

            Business increased.  Growth was frustrating and unpredictable.  Dean struggled to find new cooks and waitpersons.  He did much of the work, including cleaning tables and scrubbing the kitchen after everyone else had gone home.

            Bumper spent equally long days cleaning out fish tanks and trying to find new employees to help.  He and Dean still lost money every month, but they got closer and closer to breaking even.  They were frantically busy, yet they always found time to have lunch together.  Bumper brought food for Moses and then ate free spaghetti as he and Dean sat near the window overlooking the high school stadium.

            It was during these lunches that a mythology about Moses emerged.  They forgot about inventing his seven-game prediction streak and randomly selecting him from the fish in Bumper’s shop.  It was easy to accept that Moses had true prophetic powers.  He had come to them as a gift – some small measure of payback after all they had lost and suffered.

            Throughout the 2021 NFL season, Dean and Bumper posted the weekly scores next to Moses’ tank to keep him updated on the teams.  As the 2022 Super Bowl approached, they planned a prediction party big enough to push their businesses past the break-even point.

            Bumper’s girlfriend handled the advertising.  Her campaign combined social media posts with paper flyers left on windshields around the city.  The flyers urged everyone to enjoy a weekend-long celebration at La Dolce Vita and a special Super Bowl sale at Fins and Things.  Moses would make his prediction on Saturday night surrounded by a crowd of fans.

            Dean and Bumper did not have to prompt Chad.  He called them to reserve a spot in front of Moses’ aquarium.  So did reporters from New York and Philadelphia.  The La Dolce Vita lobby was set to be filled with so many cameras there was little room for Moses’ devoted fans from Toms River.

            On Thursday afternoon, before the festivities kicked into high gear, two young men wearing suits and sporting scruffy beards walked into La Dolce Vita.  They admired Moses’ aquarium before asking to speak with the owner.

            “What can I do for you?” Dean asked after strolling into the lobby.

            “We’re with BFH.  Stands for Bet From Home.  We’re interested in your fish,” one of the guys announced.

            “So are a lot of people,” Dean replied.

            “We’d like to buy it.”

            “He’s not for sale,” Dean replied coolly.

            “We’re ready to pay a lot of money.”

            Dean looked anxiously at Moses’ aquarium and all the surrounding signs.  “I better get my partner.”

            Bumper came right over.  He and Dean listened quietly as the BFH guys explained they were starting a national campaign for their online gambling company.  They wanted Moses as their mascot, and they wanted him to make his prediction at their company headquarters in New Brunswick.

            “He’s a special fish.  A magical fish,” Bumper said.

            “We realize that,” a BFH guy said in return.  “That’s why we’ll give you $10,000 for him.”

            Dean and Bumper shared the glance they used whenever someone asked probing questions about Moses’ history.  “We’ll have to think about it,” Dean answered.

            “You don’t have very long to think,” the BFH guy said.

            “We’ll sleep on it and tell you tomorrow,” Dean said.

            After the guys in suits left, Dean and Bumper whispered back and forth in front of Moses.  “If he can predict the future, he’s worth more than $10,000,” Bumper insisted.

            “He’s already been worth at least that to us,” Dean said.  “But what if he gets the next score wrong?”

            “I’m more worried about them taking good care of him.  Those guys don’t know anything about piranhas.”

            By the time the whispering was done, they decided to give it more thought, but they were leaning toward keeping Moses where he was.

            It was another late night for Dean.  He was alone when he walked through his restaurant, turning off the lights.  He made a final check of the lobby and aquarium.  Moses was not moving.  Dean dialed Bumper’s phone in panic.

            “Sorry, but you better get over here.”

            Bumper walked in with messy hair and wearing sweatpants.  He took one look at the aquarium and made the dreaded pronouncement.  “He’s dead.”

            Dean and Bumper mourned Moses for fifteen minutes in the dark restaurant.  Bumper repeated that Moses was too young to die and was too special for this earth.  Dean said he felt the same way when his grandmother passed away.

            The pain and emptiness came and went.  A clock on the wall pushed past midnight, and the two struggling business owners realized they were facing a new day alone.  They both had the same thought, but Bumper first verbalized it.

            “Those BFH guys don’t know one fish from another.  All they want is the publicity.  We switch Moses for one of his healthy brothers, and they’ll never notice.”

            Dean quickly agreed, and Moses was reverently placed in Bumper’s fish disposal unit under cover of night.  A sibling took the place of honor in La Dolce Vita’s lobby.

            The following day, Dean called BFH and consented to the deal.  His one condition was that they promised to take good care of the fish no matter what happened in the future.  BFH readily agreed and sent a team down to take possession of their prize.

            Bumper repeated instructions about what to feed Moses’ brother and how to clean the tank.  Then he handed over the dyed shrimp pellets the fish would need for predicting the Super Bowl score – blue for the Rams and orange for the Bengals.  The BFH people nodded impatiently as they understood and then handed $5000 checks to both Dean and Bumper.

            “That’s gotta be the most expensive piranha ever,” Bumper said after the BFH guys disappeared.

            “Should we feel guilty?” Dean asked.

            “What if Moses’ brother is even better with predictions?  Then they got a bargain.  And if anybody should understand gambling, it’s those guys.  Besides, the world owes us a little something.”

            The prediction party no longer featured Moses in La Dolce Vita’s lobby.  Dean and Bumper announced that Moses had gone on to a better place.  Then, they shared the link for watching a live stream at BFH headquarters.

            Moses’ replacement did not like the blue pellets at all.  He gulped down 49 orange ones in a row, predicting a Super Bowl blowout in favor of the Bengals.  When the Rams won the game the next day, Dean and Bumper made excuses like, “It was too much pressure for Moses after changing homes.”  When they whispered to each other, they were convinced the real Moses would have predicted the correct score.

            As for the fake Moses, he was never allowed to make picks again.  He lived out his days in the BFH lobby, an expensive symbol of risk and reward.

 

 

                            Want a Trumpless day?

         First, check the back of your closet or a bureau drawer for something bought or given to you before 2015, the year Trump started to run for president, the wristwatch that merely tells time; shoes; a jacket, shirt, or sweater that never matched anything What man doesn’t still have a shirt that needs to be tucked in, and what woman didn’t keep a sweater with shoulders for a chilly day?  That’s what you’ll wear to feel Trumpless.

         Then, for breakfast, including toast, a croissant, or a muffin that contains gluten, followed by coffee that hasn’t been decaffeinated. Lunch could be a salad without kale. The dietary rules aren’t at all strict. For your Trumpless day, don’t order a hamburger. It’s his favorite meal. Try to stay away from  Diet Coke and chocolate cake, and never use ketchup. All four will remind you of what you’re avoiding.

         Buy a printed newspaper and read it in a public space, like a train or a park. If you live in a small town, you can find a metropolitan paper with separate sections. At first, newspapers may be somewhat hard to handle because they don’t fit into your palm and often need folding back and forth. Once you adapt to it, you’ll be saved from swiping up and down. Start your Trumpless day with the business section, the entertainment reviews, sports, and the tech news, ignoring the front page and the National news section. If you drop the newspaper or lose it, that doesn’t matter. You can replace it inexpensively, and there will be no worries about personal information in it. After you buy a newspaper, it can’t be hacked.

        After breakfast, look for that National Geographic Adventure issue you saved, hoping you’ll eventually visit Yellowstone to see the famous geyser. Then, enjoy a morning watching a romantic comedy on Hulu, whether or not you find it.

         For lunch, try a ham and cheese sandwich. Please stay away from tuna fish, as it supposedly smells like Trump.

         Play a CD of cool jazz, Joan Baez, in the afternoon or ask Alexa for the top hits of 2000-14 if you gave your CD player to Goodwill.

         Another thing you can do on a Trumpless day is to write a letter. Writing by hand isn’t necessary, but the letter has to be at least two paragraphs long and requires an envelope, a stamp on the top right corner, and your return address on the top left. The recipient will be delighted, especially if they were born a generation or two before you.

         For dinner, dine with friends you’ve known for years, and when they ask a question about Yellowstone, answer it before they can look it up on the Google app.  You’ll have a memorable evening.

         If there’s time on the weekend, go to a store and buy something you don’t need, like another tool or pair of shoes. If you need to return whatever you purchased, you don’t have to pack it in the original packaging and send it back by UPS. Brick-and-mortar stores don’t deduct return postage.

         After shopping, consider going to a movie that is not yet streaming. You may need to stand in line for a few minutes, but that’s no longer the problem it used to be. Going to a movie counts for your Trumpless Day because he isn’t yet on that giant screen.

      If it’s a beautiful day, check the snow level and consider a ski holiday. Or if you live in a warm climate, play a few sets of tennis or take a walk on the beach. For a thoroughly Trumpless day, avoid golf at all times. Not a beautiful day?  If it’s raining or snowing, read a book. Though it’s not easy to find one that isn’t about what you’re escaping, choose a mystery. Even sci-fi will work if it deals with life on another planet.

     Finally, you can never watch or listen to TV or radio news. If you are on Facebook, Twitter, or other social media sites and someone mentions Trump, unfriend or block them, even if it is a relative.

        In reality, since Trump has infiltrated all aspects of our lives, there is nothing you can do to wipe Trump from your life entirely except stay in bed with the lights off all day.

                                            Recycle Bin

        Unless you have been living under a rock, you will concede that global warming and ecosystem decline urgently mandate a reduction of waste production. One notable exception: Your email ‘Recycle Bin” seems to keep growing exponentially, at least my wife does.

        Recently, she asked me to help her with an email problem. She was unable to save an email. I checked the program, and she was right. This problem allowed me to check her email files. She had over fifty saved file folders, with probably a thousand saved emails, some going back five years. She had no desire to eliminate any, and I learned not to argue with her after many years of marriage. On a whim, I checked her Recycle Bin. She had never emptied it. Close to eight thousand emails were in this folder, an ever-growing toxic pile of expired coupon codes, hibernating computer viruses, odd, unsolicited announcements, and spam.

        When I asked her if I should delete the files, she replied, “It’s a recycle bin, not a trash bin.” There might be something in there that I might recycle to my Inbox..” When she turned her back, I emptied it. That solved the problem.

        There’s some mystique surrounding Recycle. – when you hit “delete” or its digital equivalent, “empty” on your keyboard, where does it go? Well, we know that all human organic waste, including the occasional body, eventually ends up in a landfill in New Jersey. However, where do we send the columns of Ones and Zeroes representing our discarded online footprints?

        Northern California, it turns out. After some research, I am now convinced there is a gigantic black hole in Redmon, right behind the Microsoft cafeteria, that sucks up all the crap that we deem unworthy. It seems ironic that the hole’s intense gravity helps remove stuff. But, I wonder, when we blow all this into someone else’s galaxy, wouldn’t this cause some level of embarrassment if read by extraterrestrials? And so, the goal here has to be to stop producing more trash in the first place and get to the source. Here is some advice on maintaining email hygiene to assist you in this worthwhile quest.

     Don’t EVER hit “unsubscribe” — it only signals to the very able spam coder in Moscow that he (or she) has found a “live one,” and therefore, you just picked up speed on the doomsday countdown which will surely end in total obliteration of your operating system. 

      Don’t be fooled by emoticons in the subject lines — yes, they are super cute and look engaging. No – you idiot – you didn’t win anything, and confirming an incoming deposit doesn’t make the promised 100+ million-dollar transaction more real (sent curiously from your long-lost family member in England) – other than the one that’s undoubtedly outgoing from your bank account as soon as you reveal details to the under-aged crook on the other side of the World (or in your next-door neighbor’s basement). 

     Thirdly, when you do a lot of online shopping, use your glasses (the ones you bought from Amazon when you returned for more dog food). Somewhere next to your order is a tiny box you must un-check to ensure you disagree with being inundated with online offers, alerts, and updates.

     Afterward, make sure you clear your recent ‘History’ and then wash your hands thoroughly.