Moving Day

It’s Moving Day, in which we leave the Kentucky home and return to the Socal home. I’m sad to leave.

After 80 miles on the e-bikes, I learned a lesson the hard way. Don’t try to dismount a bike on the downhill side of a slope. Gravity and angular momentum can cause an unfortunate collision between self and pavement. And pavement always wins.

It seems the Southern Baptist Convention has a sex abuse problem similar to that of the Catholic church. Can’t say I’m happy about that, but I’m not surprised. I grew up in that smug, repressed, ignorant, pastor as infallible gatekeeper culture. Being spiritual is a good thing. Being part of an “organized” religion with rules and gatekeepers, not so much.

Anecdotally, it seems COVID is on the rise. In each of my circles – family, friends, co-workers – I know one or more people who have very recently tested positive. Moral of the story – get vaccinated.

Cousin Donnie, MD, told me about another weird outbreak here in Louisville. It seems he’s treated three ER patients this spring for wounds incurred during bird attacks. Hawks, buzzards, etc. He’s never seen it before, and now there are three in a short period. Hitchcock chuckles from the grave.

From The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, we find that modern industrial farming has a dinosaur problem. Unsurprising. I’m no fan of chemical-heavy industrial-scale farming, and here’s yet another reason it’s the wrong approach. I’d like to see millions of small-medium-scale farms instead of hundreds of Farmensteins.

This could be big news. The first human trials of an engineered virus that attacks cancer are under way. Sure would be nice if the grandsons grew up in a world that wasn’t afraid of cancer.