It's October 20, 2025 as you read this. But it's October 17, 2025 as I write this. One day before the next No Kings/No Fuhrers protest, which promises to be bigger, louder and more vociferous than the previous two. Pardon me for breaking out the 4 syllable words, but I like to keep the Red Hats who might read this on their toes.
As you are reading this digital missive, I could very well be sitting in a cage. In El Salvador. Or Burundi. Or even Pico Rivera, as the government is low on funds right now and can't fly ne'erdowells like myself to faraway continents.
Maybe I'm being hyperbolic. Maybe our Constitution -- what's left of it -- will hold, and my vigorous exercise of the 1st Amendment will go unpunished. Who knows? I do know that for the first time in my life, I find myself checking in with the more mature parts of my brain and asking, "do I really want to say that?"
If only I had done that while I was a working copywriter.
But just as my Dad was a convicted felon for rocking the boat while in the US Army, I'm not given to restraint.
To wit, Ms.Muse and I and Foothill friends will be on the rugged streets of Pasadena bearing signs of our boiling political discontent...
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