I have no information about the exact date that the lights turn off at American Digest but I imagine it will be quite soon. I've been running this site at a semi-beta level but the time is coming when I need to lock certain features down - I gave myself until darkness at the old site.

You've had a couple of months to see this site in operation ... as have I - and I've only had to block one reader. I didn't like doing that but ... I won't go into my reasons why.

If there are any suggestions any of you would like to make - format, style, text size, font, colors, the idiot running the place, whatever - now's the time to let me know. I can't/won't promise I'll implement any or all but everything will be considered (some items I've beaten my head against the wall about but some things are "what it is is what it is").

Once I lock certain features down, it will become more difficult to modify later.

As they say, speak now or forever hold your piece.

:)

A comment by John Fleming over on AD struck me this morning. I hope he doesn't mind if I copy his words:

"Some people might like it, conversing with your ghost. But at some point, either your heirs will pull the plug on your echo, or your echo will become so antique that all the new folks are not interested in what you might have said about anything. And then as Gerard says, digital dust to digital dust."

On occasion, simply heading out in some random direction from a point in the back-country brings surprises. I found this grave somewhere out in the Nevada desert. Nothing much out here but sagebrush, badger holes, and the fading ghosts of lost dreams. Any "town" that might have been nearby had fallen into ruins of less notice than this old iron fence. Any headstone or marker - like the body within - had long returned to that from which it came.

An elaborate fence, someone buried with love, care, and expense - they themselves now gone a few generations ago.

I doubt I could find it again.

But I wonder what was once here; the lives lived, hopes flourishing, a town of future substance being built ... being Nevada ... on the hopes of some mineral strike that would turn "our town" into a new metropolis.

Then the mines played out.

Genesis 3:19
“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”

It's hard to keep political discussions away these days.
"Just because you're not interested in politics, doesn't mean politics isn't interested in you"

Headline: "Hours After Trump Paused All Arms To Ukraine, Zelensky Reportedly Ready To Sign Minerals Deal Under 'Trump's Strong Leadership'"

Did someone explain to Z that his life expectancy might be measured in days if he pissed off the US any further?

"Trump wants to announce agreement in his address to Congress Tuesday evening."

Or did the Dems put him up to trying to embarrass DJT once again?

I still say that little squirrel needs an all-expenses-paid, one-way trip to Moscow.

Jean asked that this be a response to ghostsniper's comments about a house he designed for Deion Sanders

I want a house
with high ceilings
and low floors.
windows never
closed, no locks on the doors.
"welcome friends" on
the mat,
chairs stuffed
and comfy fat.
food in the fridge,
books on the shelves.
don't hesitate
to help yourselves.

I'm certainly not going to disagree ...

Had a request for "Highway Music" the other day.

So - sometimes granting a reader's request - here is a "Highway Song" from 1975:

Though "moving fast" under the Federal mandate of 55mph made that hard.