I have been following Goldie on tumblr for many a year now and, as of today, I haven't said anything when I should have said a lot. Shame on me for that, and I am deeply sorry for not having done so.

Goldie has been patient and patiently determined and outspoken in an astonishingly quiet, yet very clear way regarding the terrible uprising of antisemitism blatantly raging here on tumblr as well as in the world outside of this tumblr bubble. She has made and reblogged many a post that has given us more than one opportunity to think and reflect, to remember and to make a stand. Never ever have I seen Goldie take a (so called) "Zionist" position. Everything Goldie has said in her own posts and her reblogs has been *exceptionally* well reflected and very nuanced. I admire and am deeply thankful for her patience and her determination.

Goldie is Jewish. I am not. I am a gentile, a goyah, a shiksa. I am also German. I was born and grew up in the country responsible for the Shoah, the Holocaust. I was raised with the premise of "Never again!". I grew up smack dab in the middle of the discourse of guilt and responsibility. What I took and still take away from my history, the history of the country I grew up in, is this: It may not be my *personal fault* that what happened *did* happen. It might not be my *personal fault* that the country I stem from killed 6 million Jews. BUT IT IS MY FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY, both as a German and as a human being, to do WHATEVER I CAN to make sure that something like that never happens again. That is my legacy both as a German and as a human being.

Yes, it is possible, and I am pretty sure Goldie would agree (please dispute me if I'm assuming here, Goldie!), to criticize what the current government of Israel is doing in Gaza (amongst other places) without being an antisemite. And my take is that we all should observe and criticize any kind of injustice - including this one.

When I see an anon comment like the one you just replied to, Goldie, I just want to puke.

Does anyone reflect upon anything anymore? Does anyone have even a glimpse of knowledge of history? Antisemitism is a thing. We all know that. We all *should* know that and we all *should* be very, very aware of that.

I mean, come on! We, as human beings, can do better than that! We *have* to do better than that. That doesn't mean we can't speak out against injustice, and that includes injustice being committed by the Israeli government. It *does* mean, though, that it is our responsibility and obligation as *human beings* to make fucking sure that "Never again is now."

:D

Procrastination was real but finally finished this for Week 1 prompts of the TopJoe Holiday Feast

Just two grandpas being actual grandpas. 

“Mama? Mama?”

Joe’s ears pricked up, caught by the wail on the edge of that faint call.  Amidst a sea of legs, by the café sign, was a tiny person—a stocky toddler—who had just realised that Mama suddenly was not there. Little boy, Joe judged by the current skew of blue clothes towards boys.

“Hello.” Joe crouched, and then simply sat on his folded heels. “Have you lost your mama?”

The toddler nodded, tumbling burnished curls into his tear-filled blue eyes.

“I’m Yusuf.”

The toddler drew in a messy, snotty sniff. “Matty.”

“Hello, Matty.” Joe smiled. “Where was mama?”

Fat tears spilled down Matty’s cheeks. He was too young; all he knew was Mama wasn’t within reach.

Hmmm.

The tropical sun was shining high in the noon sky. Despite the red cheeks, Matty’s sun cream was freshly applied; a touch of white cream marred his collar. Matty’s mama wasn’t too far away. It was lunch time and he was standing outside a café.

“Shall we find Mama?” Joe held out his hand.

Joe was aware of the image that he presented: man, Maghrebi, speaking to an upset, white child. No one else was helping.  Half-stooped over, holding Matty’s outstretched hand, Joe pushed open the door and guided him into the café. The wave of cool air washing over them was welcome. The café was packed.

“Matty?” A young woman pushed through the press of customers, wielding a double pushchair holding two identical, chubby-cheeked babies. “Oh, Matty.”

She crouched, one hand on the handle of the pushchair. Matty barrelled into her side, spreading snot on her shoulder.

“What have I told you, Matty? You can’t wander off. I’m going to get the baby reins out again.”

“Noooooooooo.” Matty protested.

Joe laughed.

Matty’s mama finally noticed him.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I was in the queue and Beatrice was crying--” she glanced at the baby in the yellow sundress gnawing ferociously on the ear of a bedraggled teddy bear, “--and just—then I turned…he’s like lightning.”

“My son was exactly the same way.” Joe smiled wistfully. Sinjin had predated the invention of baby reins but a rope entwined around his waist had worked just as well as he and Nicolò had toiled on the farm.

“Aren’t they just!” Matty’s mama shared an understanding grin.

“So Matty are you going to run off again?” Joe asked.

Matty shook his head vigorously.

‘Reins,’ Matty’s mama mouthed. Joe couldn’t help but agree.

“Well, I’m glad we found you,” Joe said.

“Thank you. And thank you again.”

Joe slipped out of the café before they descended into the back and forth of a multitude of thank yous and it’s not a problem. Nile was waiting for him on the kerb.

“You find his mom?”

“Yeah.” Joe jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“So what do you suppose he’s gonna to do? Cure Parkinson’s? The next Greta Thunberg?”

“Hmmm,” Joe mused thinking on small acts of service: a life time of caring for lost little ones; their last pennies in beggars’ bowls; holding open doors for elders, or smiles shared with strangers on the street. “I think he’s a little baby returned safely to his mother.”   

REASON TO SHELL-EBRATE Sixteen critically endangered tortoises were born to Mommy and Abrazzo, who are estimated to both be about 100 years old.

I thought I saw something move in the lake... nah, it was nothing. But this Lochness Lakeside Campgrounds look cool!

We have another stop on the Cryptid Motel Road Trip Adventure. We have the Mothman Motel, the Jackalope Inn, Fresno Night Crawler Bed and Breakfast, the Jersey Devil Lodge, the Geyser Siren Hot Springs, and the Bigfoot Log Cabins.