Good morning. Hope you had a good Christmas and/or are having a good Hanukkah. In the home where I grew up, we discriminated against no holidays and celebrated them all. That was why I refused to ever join the War on Christmas, in addition to the fact that it didn't really exist. If it had though, I would have had my father pay some doctor to claim I was exempt because I had bone spurs.
The time between Christmas and the day after New Year's is always an interesting time for me. Some of the people I work with are working, others are not and nobody really expects anything to get done. In this town, there's really no Show Business between the last Friday before Christmas and the day after the Rose Parade.
I'm getting through the holidays as I always do by connecting and/or being with folks I like, meaning people who want to please folks they like. No stress. No arguing. Even the people I know who usually can't shut up about Trump shut up about Trump. If you want to resume telling others how horrible he is — and I feel some obligation to do so — refer them to this article by Richard North Patterson, which is the most devastating takedown I've ever seen of our current and maybe our final president. If you want to keep your holiday season free of the topic, bookmark the page and wait until a week from today to read it.
A pretty big rainstorm rolled through Southern California last night with a few lingering showers possible later today. When I got up this morning, I peeked out my bathroom window at the little cathouse in the backyard. Therein, looking safe and dry and eager for me to put food out for her was Lydia. I heard in my head a little snippet of Barry Manilow singing "I Made It Through the Rain." She was fine as I'd like to believe we all will be and not just until 1/2/20 rolls around and the world goes back to full power. In a way, we're all feral cats waiting out each passing storm.