A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (August 11, 2026)


PapaDeanBear’s Monday…Retail Therapy, New Kicks, Watch Service, Dinner, and my Orange and White Menace.

The hubby and I headed to the temple of retail hell (aka DestinyUSA) that has pretty much become the domed city from “Logan’s Run.” (There is no sanctuary.)

But papabear digresses…first up, new shoes.

The ones that I have are a little worse for wear, so I got some Sketchers Slip-Ins which have Goodyear soles for slip resistance, (which they actively market to senior citizens such as myself.) Next, some sandals. Again, Sketchers. I found a pair that I liked and was pretty close to the ones that I had a while back and I wore out. 133 dollars spent

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(The new kicks)

Next, the watch.

This watch basically has sentimental value. It’s a Casio WaveCeptor analog watch with a small LCD display that shows the date. I have had this watch since 2006, when I bought it to replace a Casio DataBank watch that pretty much broke. All I have had to do is replace the battery, and set it when I got home. (I actually have to get the little owner’s manual out because setting it is a little convoluted!) 33 dollars spent.

(My Casio WaveCeptor analog watch)

Finally, the supermarket. The hubby wanted to get a few things for dinner. Family pack of ground beef (he wanted to make meatloaf,) side dishes of my choice (I told him flat out not to bitch about what I chose, in this case was pre-made sides in the meat case.) Picked up milk, bread, eggs, cookies (Classic and Golden Oreos,) and pre-sliced snacking cheese (habanero cheddar and smoked gouda.) 103 dollars spent.

At the end of Papabear’s Retail Therapy, the total came out to 270 dollars.

As for the orange and white menace, he is basically stoned on catnip and was being a goofball, so papabear had to take photos of him.

(BTW, dinner was meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, baked cheese potatoes, and french green beans. – PDB)

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(c) 2026, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.

A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (March 29, 2026)

Papabear had a bit of a crisis…

Let’s just say up front, I am only relating this as a way for all of you to get a little glimpse into papabear’s life. (Bear with me, it gets interesting. – PapaDeanBear)

Yesterday, the house was a bit of a madhouse. My husband had volunteered to do the main course for a spaghetti dinner for our local senior LGBTQ+ organization, SAGEUpstate (link at the end.) Well, in all the madness of moving stuff from our kitchen to the car, our orange and white menace 🐱slipped out. We didn’t notice at the time.

I actually went to the spaghetti dinner later on (had to Uber, goddamnit) to help the hubby with cleanup and loading the car with leftovers and unused canned tomato products and pasta. So my darling hubby and I get back from it, unload the car, and get settled for the night.

The next day, I am looking around for my boy, and I can’t find him. I ask Dan (my husband) if he has seen the cat, and of course he says “Don’t worry about it, he’ll turn up.” (Fuck you very much for your reassurance.) So I am sick with worry. I love my furbabies, they are family.

So, I go through out the day doing things to distract myself, try to dispel my mental agony, like watching some of my favorite YouTube channels. So, I am basically trying to distract myself and failing, and my despair worsens.

About an hour ago (as of this writing,) my hubby barges into my den, and sure as shit, he has the orange and white menace in his arms. What happened was, Dan had taken the house horse (our Great Dane) outside to go potty (we have a fenced in back yard) and she went and chased away a feral cat that was stalking the birds that congregated around the bird feeder. He went to get her to bring her in, and sure enough the goddamn cat was sitting there behind the garage.

Suffice it to say, this cranky, cigar-smoking old man broke down in tears knowing that my boy is safe.

If any of you are an LGBTQ+ senior citizen, here is the link to SAGEUpstate:
https://www.sageupstate.org/

(And my boy’s name is BeBe, short for Butterball. He is a bit of a chonk. The house horse’s name is Della. – PDB)

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© 2026, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.