Pledges and Promises

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March 15, 2026- Hana looked at me with concern in her eyes, as I was next to her, while she was busy pumping her legs in the balloon exercise that I described a few days ago. It seemed she was wondering what I was thinking, as my face was serious. I told her that I wanted her to go after whatever dreams she might have, as long as they help her and other people. She likely has only a very limited understanding of what I was talking about, but a smile returned to her face.

I finished reading “Nobody’s Girl”, by Virginia Giuffre, who was prominent in getting the Epstein Files top of mind, for so many people. She died last year, under murky circumstances, with even one of her own collaborators casting doubt on her mental stability and the status of her marriage. Any of the insinuations, or none of them, could be true. The woman had more health issues in her last years of life than most people have to even momentarily face. It may have been impossible for her and her husband to stay together, though she ends her narrative on a positive note, in that regard. (The collaborator makes a veiled reference to the couple being “estranged”, in the opening pages of the book and a Wikipedia article on Virginia casts her husband as an abusive brute. That same article says that the FBI doesn’t believe a word she said about a sex trafficking network headed by Jeffrey Epstein.)

The drivel in parentheses is one of the reasons that I take official accounts of abuse of women and children with several grains of salt. When I was a counselor, and a young person, usually a girl, came to me and said s(he) had been abused, only once was it untrue-and that fabulist came to me on her own and admitted she had made the whole thing up. I was far more skeptical of people in high places-or journalists, who took the side of the accused. There was always money or power behind their counterclaims. Generally speaking, I found that children should be seen, heard and believed.

I’ve said it before, and will maintain as long as I have all my faculties and senses about me-no one hurts my granddaughter-ever. That was what was on my mind, when she looked at me, with such probing eyes.

Tik-Tok

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December 1, 2025, Tucumcari- My friend sat across from me, in a crowded coffee shop, on the west side of Amarillo. He referred, a couple of times, to things he’d seen on Tik-Tok, a medium he finds amusing. A few minutes later, he told of posts on said medium that he found revolting.

I have never been a fan of Tik-Tok,nor of Snap Chat, Reddit or any other medium that relies, for its existence, on mass, conformity-based consumption of whatever drivel the worst among its contributors serves up, particularly in the form of “challenge”. Whoever dreamed up the nightmare that was “Tide Pod Challenge” (before Tik-Tok, in fairness) deserves to be consigned to the scrap heap of historical opprobrium. Its successors, some of which have found their way to Tik-Tok (i.e. Jam Jar Pulse Jet), likewise deserve nothing short of universal condemnation, for the resulting harm they cause both those who attempt them and their loved ones who are left to pick up the pieces of the person(s) left in relative ruin.

Tik-Tok could have become the purveyor of presentations that elevate humanity, the way Wikipedia and, for the most part, TED Talks and You Tube have become. Instead, we have the media promoter of the ethos that is reflected in that most odious of sentiments, “It’s better than Crack!” End of rant.

The day was, all in all, very nice. I bid farewell to my little family, for a few weeks, then found it fairly easy to exit Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. The drive along Northwest Passage was easy, and I found my lunch stop, Valley Pecans, rather deserted. Somehow, I was about the first customer at that lovely cafe-emporium, and was, thankfully, followed by about a dozen other people. It was Noon, so high time for travelers to surface.

After my visit with friend, Wes, In Amarillo and a fuel stop, I made it to this high desert gem, taking this room at Rodeway Inn and heading to Del’s Diner, one of Tucumcari’s best. Del’s has been around since 1966, and the crowds, such as the one there tonight, are proof of its excellence. Martha and crew treated everyone special, tonight. The regulars attest that this is no fluke. It’s how the crew is every day, every meal. Viva Del’s; viva Tucumcari!