A Passing Thought for the New Year. . .

Let’s say “No, thanks” in 2022 to the hair trigger mentality that seems to have taken over broad swaths of society any time there is an imagined or perceived slight of some kind. Meeting ugly belligerence with our own brand of belligerence solves nothing and, at best, creates additional problems.

Sadly, life ain't like a James Bond movie most of the time. Walking away from a possible confrontation with our dignity, front teeth, and eye glasses intact is far preferable to taking on someone built like Odd Job or Robert Shaw in a train compartment during the overnight journey to Dubrovnik. Or some buttinski we don't know from Adam filming the heated exchange with an iPhone to return to 2022 for a moment.

Here’s a related hint. Besides obstreperous strangers, we might also need to walk away from extended family members and so called “friends” who do nothing but drag us down, expose us to unpleasant interactions, and even dangerous situations. In short, we must learn and know when to walk away from toxic people, situations, and keep them at arm's length.

It is sometimes just easier to pick up our things, move elsewhere, and resolve never again to put ourselves in a similar situation. A lot of people in 2022, for whatever reason, are beyond all reason and seem immune to tact. They neither take subtle hints, nor respond well to polite direct requests to cease and desist with X, Y, Z, or whatever else the offending behavior might be.

And when such instances arise, it is better to keep our own blood pressure under control, refuse to take the bait, change our venue -- or cut 'em loose as the case may be -- and let it go.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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