A few days ago I posted this satirical piece I put to together with my imaginary new friend, Samuel K., and linked it to my Facebook page. Someone I've known for many years, but not kept up with over those years except cursorily on Facebook, responded to my post commenting "You do realize you are calling your friends stupid?"  I knew immediately her question was meant to be rhetorical.

I do know not all people who support President Trump are stupid, but took my Facebook friend's response to my post as mostly defensive. I have no idea if she'd only seen the photo at the top of the piece I took at a protest in Salt Lake City back in April which said that 1 out of 3 Trump supporters are as stupid as the other 2 and not read the satirical piece below it, but admittedly wasn't particularly curious about that.

I couldn't necessarily blame her for not reading my post as i was mostly playing around entertaining myself in these times of daily what the hells and reallys!!? 

I found the protest sign funny at the time I made the photograph, but in no way did I feel obligated to take the sign literally as the truth. Unlike my Facebook friend, I haven't completely lost my sense of humor.

I can easily offer evidence that those supporting President Trump are many other things too like dull or willfully ignorant or selfish, self-serving pricks (See Also:  Trae Crowder here). I offered up some alternatives, not those, to "stupid," all true, but she responded she was "none of the above." I'd even offered that I assumed some of the president's supporters "may be good people." 

So it goes.

Welp, I figured I should again consult with my new friend Samuel K. (a composite of Mark Twain and Kurt Vonnegut whose voices would be helpful in these times) and ask them to offer a defense of President Trump's supporters. After not a few exchanges with them, here's what my new imaginary friend has to say.

By Samuel K. Von Twain

It is a remarkable thing to watch the last tattered remnants of the American experiment flutter like a moth around the golden hair of President Donald J. Trump. The people who still support him—God bless their sturdy skulls—are proof that loyalty is a powerful glue, particularly when poured directly into the ear and allowed to harden.

I say this not in judgment, but in admiration. It takes a special sort of tenacity to cling to a man who has been impeached twice, indicted more times than a back-alley loan shark, and yet claims persecution so convincingly you’d think he’d just been dragged from a Roman coliseum in chains.

The President’s admirers are not merely his voters. No, they are his apostles, each ready to spread the gospel that the man is both America’s last hope and the world’s richest underdog. And in the spirit of Mark Twain’s suggestion that we give the people what they want—and Vonnegut’s suspicion that humanity may not deserve better—allow me to defend them.


The Education Problem That Isn’t One

You might think our national tendency to elect con artists, carnival barkers, and snake oil merchants has something to do with the quality of education in this country. But that’s just elitist talk. Education, as it once existed, tried to cultivate curiosity and critical thinking—two dangerous traits for a democracy that now treats reality as a choose-your-own-adventure book.

We don’t really have public education anymore; we have a system of glorified babysitting where the main lesson is how to sit still for standardized tests that measure compliance rather than intelligence. And now, thanks to the administration’s noble attempt to dismantle the Department of Education altogether, we are spared even the pretense that young Americans should learn inconvenient things like history, science, or why “irony” doesn’t mean “made of iron.”

See, indoctrination is when the other side teaches their version of events. Education is when our side teaches ours. The trouble is, without referees like the Department of Education, there’s no one to argue about which is which—meaning the loudest voice wins. And my, does the President have a loud voice.

The Dunning-Kruger Waltz

The Dunning-Kruger Effect—named for two men who discovered that the less you know about something, the more certain you are that you’re right—should be etched in marble outside the White House. In the current age, ignorance isn’t a handicap; it’s a form of patriotism.

And why not? If you believe you know as much about epidemiology as a virologist, climate science as a meteorologist, or geopolitics as a diplomat—because you once saw a Facebook meme about it—you are exactly the kind of citizen the President cherishes. Experts are a nuisance, always reminding you that two plus two equals four, when the President assures you it equals whatever will make you feel better about yourself.

The Truth Is a Luxury We Can’t Afford

In healthier times, knowing the truth about an issue was considered necessary for a functioning democracy. Now it’s treated like contraband, available only to those who can afford the mental risk of changing their minds. The rest are happy to outsource reality to whichever cable network speaks their language—Fox News, Newsmax, OANN—all of which have become the presidential press office in everything but official title.

This arrangement is efficient: the President says something, the network repeats it louder, and by nightfall it’s been baptized into Truth. If evidence to the contrary emerges, it is either ignored, or more elegantly, recast as “fake news” cooked up by the “deep state,” a phrase that conveniently applies to anyone who isn’t already on the payroll.

 Faith as a Feature, Not a Bug

Evangelical pastors now preach the gospel of Trump as if the Book of Revelation contained a hidden clause about tax cuts and deregulation. Here, faith and politics have achieved the perfect marriage: an absolute certainty that cannot be debated because it’s been stamped with divine approval.

Faith, in its pure form, can be a beautiful thing—a humble recognition of the limits of human understanding. But faith in politics often functions as an industrial-strength solvent for critical thinking. If you believe God Himself picked the President, it becomes downright rude to question him. Besides, who needs to fact-check when you can just faith-check?

Why I’m Defending Them Anyway

So yes, I defend the President’s faithful—not because they are correct, but because they are tragically, almost artfully wrong. They are living proof of the human brain’s ability to spin gold from straw, to find comfort in the arms of a man who sees them less as citizens than as useful props in a never-ending rally.

Twain once observed that “It’s easier to fool people than to convince them they have been fooled.” Vonnegut would probably add that humanity was designed that way, perhaps as a cosmic joke. The faithful prove both points.

They may not be helping the Republic, but by God, they are making history interesting—like a train wreck viewed from a safe distance, except the train is on fire, the engineer is golfing, and half the passengers are insisting that the flames are a liberal hoax.

So let us salute them: the steadfast, the unshakable, the willfully misinformed. They are the guardians of a new American tradition—where truth is optional, ignorance is a virtue, and the President is whatever we need him to be in the moment.

And when the whole thing comes crashing down, they’ll still be there, hats on heads, hands over hearts, ready to declare with unshakable pride that none of it was their fault.
​

By Samuel K. Von Twain.

Well now, friends, it’s a curious thing about America — it’s the only country in the world that ever started out perfect and then worked diligently every single day to ruin itself. That’s progress for you. And wouldn’t you know it, we finally got ourselves a President who saw the problem clear as daylight: America wasn’t failing because of corruption, greed, or neglect. Oh no. It was failing because nobody had yet figured out how to make a killing off it properly.

Enter Donald J. Trump, President and CEO of The United States of America, Inc., a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Donald J. Trump Organization, with minority stakes held by friendly billionaires, two Saudi princes, and a televangelist who once sold blessed garden hoses as a cure for gout.

Narrator’s note: If you think this is an exaggeration, you haven’t been paying attention. The truth is like a live chicken—pluck it and it’ll still run around headless for a while before it drops.

The business model was simple:

1. Acquire assets.
2. Sell to friends.
3. Call it patriotism.​

The National Parks — “America’s Best Idea,” bless ‘em — got their budget cut until the rangers had to rent out Yosemite for Monster Truck Week. The Department of Education was sent to live on a farm upstate where it could “run free,” which is to say it was shot in the back of the head. Renewable energy subsidies? Cut down to nothing, so coal could be brought back like it was an Elvis comeback special.

Narrator’s note: Coal is America’s nostalgia drug — it kills you, but it makes you feel like you’re in a simpler time when you knew who your enemies were and could cough without thinking about the air quality index.

Project 2025 was rolled out like a new chain of drive-thru brainwashing stations. The mission: sweep away all that bureaucratic “rule of law” nonsense and replace it with the good common sense of whoever had last spoken to the President on the golf course.

USAID? Gone. No sense sending money to poor foreigners when we had so many poor Americans who could be ignored much closer to home.
​
The Bureau of Labor Statistics? The head was fired after reporting an unemployment number that didn’t match the one the President had invented that morning. “Facts,” the President explained, “are like steaks — the rarer the better.”

And then there were the white evangelicals — God bless their untroubled minds. They were the preferred voting bloc because, as one strategist put it, “If the Lord told them the sky was plaid, they’d start knitting matching sweaters.”

Health care for the poor? Cut, because it only encouraged them to keep on living. Free speech protections for non-citizens? Ended. As the President said, “If you want free speech, you have to earn it — like my father did, when he inherited it.”

Masked and armed men with no identification began collecting immigrants — and a few unlucky citizens — right off the street. They didn’t bother with due process because that would mean paperwork, and paperwork meant the Department of Justice might have to admit it still existed.

Narrator’s note: People kept asking, “Isn’t this against the Constitution?” which is adorable. That’s like asking a wolf if it has a vegan option.

Universities were called “breeding grounds for enemies of the people,” so budgets were gutted, faculty were smeared, and any law firm defending such institutions was targeted for “special review” — which is to say they were sued into bankruptcy by legal teams paid in Trump steaks and casino vouchers.

The Epstein Files? Locked away. “For national security,” said the President, which is what every government says when the real reason is “because it would be embarrassing to me personally.”

He accused Barack Obama of treason so often that foreign leaders began to think “treason” was a kind of honorary title. Criminals were pardoned wholesale — provided they’d kissed the ring or had the good manners to commit crimes in the right ideological direction.

​Our religiously-inclined Supreme Court was the keystone investor. These robed market-makers had figured out that the Lord’s work could be done quite effectively by rubber-stamping the CEO’s mergers, acquisitions, and hostile takeovers of the Constitution.

And through it all, the President lied. Constantly. Not the cute lies politicians tell to keep Grandma hopeful, but big lies, lies so loud and brazen they became part of the weather. People stopped fact-checking, the way you stop checking for rain when you already live underwater.

Narrator’s note: This, dear reader, is how a hedge fund works. You take something alive, you strip it for parts, you call it lean and efficient, and when it finally collapses, you say, “Well, it was failing before I got here.”

In the end, America became exactly what it had always secretly wanted to be: a brand. And like all brands, it was only as good as its last quarterly report. The stars on the flag were replaced with little gold dollar signs. And somewhere in a penthouse in Florida, the CEO smiled, knowing the merger was complete.

After all, The United States of America, Inc. had finally turned a profit — for the right people. And that, friends, is the only statistic that counts anymore.

I've considered writing about our mode of transportation when we're not traveling in our Leisure Travel Van (LTV) over the years, but put it off, I suppose, waiting for the right time. After being without my bike for almost two weeks recently and missing it acutely, now's that time.

When we left Birmingham seven years ago in January 2019, trading four walls for the sleek, compact comfort of our 25-foot LTV, we made a decision that still shapes our daily adventures, especially when we are actively traveling: no tow car. At first, I'm sure friends thought we were crazy—how would we get groceries, explore trails, or navigate small-town streets without one? The answer, as it turned out, came on two wheels, humming quietly beneath us: our Trek electric assist bicycles.

These aren’t mopeds or scooters. Our bikes have no throttles—no twist of the wrist or button push to propel us forward. Instead, they reward our pedaling with a boost from the motor, the level of which we can adjust with a simple handlebar control. Each bike has a small digital display that tells us speed, battery level, mileage, and, most importantly, our “assist level.”

Motor off means we’re fully human-powered—a reasonable choice for a gentle cruise on relatively flat rail trails or, maybe most importantly, when conserving battery because you got lost in your revelry, but, honestly, our bikes are not geared for longer rides without battery assist. Mine weighs 55 pounds, more with panniers. Level 1 offers just a whisper of help, making it feel like we’ve had an extra cup of coffee that morning. Level 2 turns headwinds and hills into mild inconveniences. Levels 3 and 4, the highest settings, make climbing a steep coastal road in Nova Scotia feel like coasting along a flat multi-use trail in Tucson. The motor engages only when we pedal, giving us the sensation that our legs are younger, stronger, and more resilient than they actually are.

Over the years, these bikes have carried us through towering redwoods in California, through farmlands on the Leelanau Trail in coastal Michigan, into bustling small towns in Vermont, and along the salt-kissed shores of the Maritime Provinces in Canada. In Nova Scotia, we camped in Shubie Park in Dartmouth and rode into Halifax on the Shubenacadie Canal Trail, took in the Halifax Public Gardens and had a nice brunch near the Gardens. In Maine, we pedaled from our campsite on a friend's property near Point Francis into Acadia National Park across the way from Bar Harbor, taking in Schoodic Point along our way. We've ridden the Carriage Trails in Acadia National Park to lunch in Northeast Harbor.

The real beauty of these bikes, however, goes beyond convenience. For people in their 60s, 70s, and beyond, electric assist cycling offers remarkable health benefits. The steady pedaling keeps joints limber without the pounding stress of running. The adjustable assist means we can maintain a steady heart rate, getting cardiovascular exercise. I liken it to a good spin class with scenery and a the possibility of lunch and a beer along the way. It keeps muscles engaged, improves balance, and helps maintain bone density—critical as we age. Just as importantly, it keeps us moving every day, not only physically but mentally.

There’s a joy in knowing that we can ride farther than we might have on traditional bikes, yet still return to our campsite pleasantly tired rather than exhausted. The electric assist removes the fear of “what if I can’t make it back?” and replaces it with the freedom to explore without limits. We’ve met other riders our age who had all but given up cycling because of knee pain or declining stamina. After trying an e-bike, they’ve rediscovered the pure pleasure of the open trail.

For us, the bikes have become more than a mode of transportation—they are our bridge to places a van can’t go, to conversations with locals we might never have met, and to landscapes that reveal themselves slowly, at the pace of a turning wheel. Whether we’re pedaling along the shores of Lake Superior near Duluth or coasting into a small-town farmers market in Brattleboro, Vermont, we feel connected—to each other, to the road, to our environs, and to the simple joy of movement.
​
Nearly seven years on the road has taught us that freedom often comes with clever tools. For us, that tool has two wheels, a battery, and a quiet motor that reminds us—every time it kicks in—that age is no barrier to adventure, only an invitation to keep going, with just a little help.

It's Juneteenth, a federal holiday, and here in Dinosaur National Monument, and all other National Parks and Historic Sites, admission is free. 

As I made my way up to the Quarry Exhibit Hall this morning on my morning walk, I couldn't help but notice people were coming into the Monument apace to take advantage of the opportunity. 

Approaching the Summer Solstice in a few days means days are longer and getting hotter in the high desert.  Today we may reach the 100 degree F mark with the humidity currently at 9%.  There's a Red Flag Warning posted by the National Weather Service starting this morning through midnight on Friday. Hot and dry with afternoon winds at 20-30 mph with gusts up to 50 mph, means very dry fuel for potential fires.

Life in the high desert in late Spring.

I think it's a good time to mention all the hard work Melanie has been putting in since we got here. She's had to learn all the workings of the Monument Visitor Center and Quarry Exhibit Hall including research into the geology and paleontology of the area. She's put together a Ranger Talk that is uniquely hers which she presents at least once a week for visitors outside the Quarry Exhibit Hall. Her audience of visitors usually numbers between 30-40.

To say I'm proud to be here in support of the work Melanie is doing is understatement. We are both more grateful than ever for having discovered what it means to be of service in promoting and protecting our precious natural resources.

In light of what's going on the the United States Congress with the policy bill currently being debated which include massive cuts to the NPS budget, you may want to become familiar with Alt National Park Service on Facebook. They are the resistance.

Here's a sample post from yesterday:

With everything else going on, the Senate sent the Big Bill back to the House, and made some changes. Here’s one:
The Senate added a provision that would force anyone trying to block the federal government in court to pay a massive upfront bond, no exceptions, no matter your income. Judges wouldn’t be allowed to lower or waive it, even if someone’s rights are being violated.
This would make it nearly impossible for regular people, civil rights groups, or nonprofits to challenge the government. The only ones left with the money to sue? Billionaires and big corporations.
Let’s look into the details:
If you want a judge to block a harmful government action, whether it’s cutting off medical access, gutting environmental protections, or violating your civil rights, you’d now have to post a financial bond first.
- The court must set a bond amount based on the potential cost or harm to the government if it loses.
- Judges are explicitly banned from considering:
- Whether you’re poor
- Whether you’re a nonprofit
- Whether your rights are being violated
Nonprofits and Advocacy Groups
Environmental watchdogs often operate on limited budgets. A required bond, even $50,000 or $100,000, could bankrupt them before their case even begins.
Example: An environmental group sues to stop the federal government from opening a protected national park to oil drilling. Under this bill, they’d have to front possibly millions just to get a judge to pause the project while the case is heard. Even with a strong case, the price tag alone could shut them down.
Everyday Citizens
Individual citizens, like a whistleblower, disabled veteran, or grieving parent, couldn’t realistically afford a bond in the tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Imagine a family sues to stop a dangerous chemical plant expansion near their home. They’d be told: “Pay up first.” Even if they’re right, they can’t get the court’s help without cash.
It’s a paywall on justice, shielding government overreach by pricing the public out of court.

There are also provisions in the bill that will require a massive sell-off of public lands out west.

In light of these developments and layoffs of park service employees this year, I thought it an appropriate time to query ChatGPT:  

In what ways do our National Park Service Rangers help preserve our natural treasures and promote the common good?

National Park Service (NPS) Rangers play a vital role in preserving the natural, cultural, and historical treasures of the United States while also promoting the common good. Their contributions span environmental stewardship, public education, community engagement, and the protection of public resources. Here's how they fulfill this mission:
1. Environmental Protection and Resource Management

• Conservation of ecosystems: Rangers monitor and protect wildlife, manage endangered species, and help prevent habitat destruction from invasive species or human interference.
• Fire management and restoration: They use science-based techniques to manage wildfires and restore natural landscapes.
• Pollution and waste control: Rangers enforce environmental regulations to prevent littering, illegal dumping, and pollution, preserving the land and water for future generations.

2. Law Enforcement and Safety

• Enforcing laws and regulations: NPS Rangers act as law enforcement officers to protect park resources and ensure visitor safety.
• Search and rescue operations: They conduct lifesaving missions for lost, injured, or stranded park visitors.
• Disaster response: Rangers assist in responding to natural disasters such as floods, wildfires, and storms that affect parklands.

3. Public Education and Interpretation

• Guided tours and educational programs: Rangers teach visitors about the ecological, geological, and cultural significance of parks, building public understanding and appreciation.
• Youth engagement: Through programs like Junior Ranger and Every Kid Outdoors, they inspire environmental stewardship among young people.
• Cultural preservation: They interpret and protect Indigenous sites, historic landmarks, and cultural artifacts, fostering respect for the nation's diverse heritage.

4. Promotion of the Common Good

• Equal access to public lands: By maintaining open, protected natural spaces, rangers help ensure that all Americans—regardless of income, background, or location—have access to the physical and mental health benefits of nature.
• Sustainability advocacy: Rangers encourage responsible recreation, "Leave No Trace" practices, and sustainable tourism that support both ecological balance and local economies.
• Community partnerships: NPS collaborates with local governments, tribes, scientists, and volunteers to improve environmental outcomes and civic engagement.

In sum, NPS Rangers are frontline guardians of America's shared natural and cultural legacy. Their work not only preserves irreplaceable landscapes and histories but also reinforces democratic values by ensuring public access to these resources and fostering a sense of collective responsibility for their care.
​
Only you can prevent the loss of "America's best idea." Stay informed, speak up, write or call your legislators. Watch this space.

On the backside of our apartment in DINO runs the Fossil Discovery Trail. Since Melanie had not hiked the trail, we did so on a nice Sunday afternoon. The trail starts at the Quarry Visitor Center  and goes to the Quarry Exhibit Hall, a distance of 1.2 miles.

It's a lovely Friday afternoon here in Dinosaur National Monument (DINO), dinner prep is done and I await my favorite Ranger's return home. Cocktails in the backyard watching the Prairie Dogs forage can't be too far away.

Not too much new here. We continue to acclimate, Melanie continues to train at her new position here at DINO. She worn her uniform today, but didn't want me to make a portrait because she'd left her Flat Hat at the Visitors' Center.  

I've continued to cycle Cub Creek Road most days. Today I took my time, stopping as I spotted trash along the road.  I filled one pannier. Seemed like the thing to do.

Have a great weekend. 

While Melanie was working on Friday, I once again cycled a portion of Cub Creek Road. She was on a Field Trip with other Rangers nearby and encountered Big Horn Sheep on a hike making me wish I'd gone the extra miles and maybe gotten a chance to see them too.

She was off work yesterday and after making our way into Vernal for errands and lunch, we hiked a portion of the River Trail that connects Split Mountain Camp and Green River Camp. Another splendid day in the neighborhood.

A new month and with it a spectacular Spring day.  The clouds were again part of the show on my bike ride. 

And I made it to the restored Josie Bassett Morris cabin. Here's more about her. 

I'll be out again today, fewer clouds and only slightly warmer to start off.

The meatloaf made it to the table last evening and was delicious (if I say so...). Melanie and I enjoyed a nice loop walk after dinner and saw Ranger Nick ouf for a walk. I met Ranger Emily yesterday too.

Yesterday I traveled into Vernal for miscellaneous errands and a few groceries. No cycling as it rained in the afternoon here in the Monument, something a bit unusual when it happens, high desert and all, but nice when it does. 

We're surrounding here in our block of apartments by White Tailed Prairie Dogs. They are cool neighbors and we've enjoyed sitting out back of our apartments watching them feed and the pups play.

The white-tailed prairie dog (Cynomys leucurus) is a burrowing rodent native to the western United States, primarily found in Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, and Montana. They live in colonies called "towns" and prefer sagebrush-grassland habitats. These prairie dogs are herbivores, feeding on grasses, forbs, and shrubs. They hibernate in winter and are active above ground during warmer months. Unlike other prairie dog species, white-tailed prairie dogs are less social and more solitary. They play a key ecological role by aerating soil and serving as prey for various predators, including hawks, badgers, and coyotes.
After a gestation period of about 30 days, females give birth to a litter of typically 3 to 8 pups in an underground burrow. The pups are born blind, hairless, and completely dependent on their mother. They remain underground for several weeks before emerging. ChatGPT

I finished preparing our dinner for this evening earlier, a dinner I made on Tuesday a few days ago, but promptly dropped on the floor of the apartment as I was preparing to serve it. It was a real mess. We enjoyed the potatoes and salad that were to accompany the meatloaf. 

​Not sure I've ruined a dinner in that fashion before, but it took a few minutes for that one to get off me. Anyway, tonight we try again.

It's another beautiful Spring day here and I'm about to get out and cycle a bit. 

After making dinner for the evening's meal, I rode Cub Creek Road 16.58 miles round trip which included a ride down to the Green River Campground. I engaged Strava to give me the stats on my ride. Starting at 4,790 feet, the is ride summarized as follows: