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mcs3000.bsky.social
mcs3000
@mcs3000.bsky.social
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mcs3000.bsky.social
super smart choice
November 25, 2025 at 12:50 AM
mcs3000.bsky.social
Berkeley Bowl if you want to brave the madness
November 25, 2025 at 12:37 AM
Reposted by mcs3000
kerithburke.bsky.social
MVPs, championships, the Olympics and an athlete known around the world? And he’s wholesome with a sense of humor and he’s not wooden in commercials? All time fumble.
November 16, 2025 at 2:55 AM
Reposted by mcs3000
kateconger.com
Penny died on November 9. She was 16 years old. How lucky I feel to have shared a life with her. She was a comedian and a hellraiser. She’d do something silly and then give you a look to make sure you were in on the joke. She tore through old dirt bike tires and horse balls. When we moved into our house in 2019, she ran across the bridge over the creek a few times and then realized she could just jump straight over the creek, so she’d go tearing after her ball and just blast herself into the air. She could jump high enough to see over the 6 foot fence and she’d scare the shit out of people when her head popped up. She loved getting comfy. She’d sleep on as many pillows as possible, her whole body curled up next to my head. She had a special spot on the east side of the house where she’d lay in the morning sun and bake her belly until she was practically overheating. When we went camping, she’d slowly shove me off my sleeping pad and take over. She was too independent to cuddle for long, but after breakfast in the mornings, she would get back in bed with me and let me hold her for a while. She loved ear rubs and forehead kisses. She ran miles and miles. She loved to sprint up and down the beach, racing past the waves. You could see her eyes go peaceful as her body picked up speed. She eagerly chased Nate on his mountain bike and challenged me to keep up. She ran through the woods alongside us when we snowshoed the PCT, crashing through the crusted snow and paddling in the powder underneath. She hated rain and would lay her ears out sideways to try to keep water from dripping in. Afterward, she would scrub her whole body up and down the couch, grunting and wiggling to get her ears dry. She begrudgingly learned to swim after anxiously watching me jump in an alpine lake, and learned to love it when she realized she could fetch sticks out of the water. She ruined every fishing trip she went on after that, thinking the lures cast into the water were for her to chas… She obsessed over seeing unusual animals. Her favorite were deer, and she had a special sort of yodeling cry I only ever heard her make for them. When one of our neighbors got a goat, she’d eagerly go up to the fence and marvel at him. On one of our last walks around Lake Merritt, she met a horse and just stared and stared. Penny was my best friend. We resembled each other in so many ways — both fiery, stubborn, fiercely loving and loyal but quick to lash out. I trusted her taste in people, and she trusted me. We could be gentle with each other, even when we struggled to be soft with others. Loving her — and I think loving any being deeply — held up a mirror to all my flaws. I had to look at my laziness on the days I didn’t feel like walking her, at my impatience when we wanted conflicting things, at my inattentiveness when I took my eye off her and she escaped down the storm drain, and I had to go crawling through the drains of Oakland with a flashlight to fish her out. She forced me to grow, but I also ache at all the big and small ways I let her down. She was by my side for the very best and worst moments of my life. When I met her, I felt this little wisp of flame inside me that was the start of a family, and I kept it so secret for fear of extinguishing it. She was Nate’s little girl before she was mine, and when I came along, she begrudgingly gave up her seat in the truck and then sat on the floor glowering at me. Together, we set off on the adventure of being a family and it felt so fragile I could barely breathe — the terror of the hope to be loved. When we split up, Nate gave Penny and I the kindness of allowing us to stay together, a huge self-sacrifice. I will always be grateful for that. In her later years, Penny kept learning. She picked up new commands without me even knowing it. She learned what free boxes were and how to dig in them to find a new stuffy to carry home with her. She made a fast friend in Luna, whose easy, gentle presence comple…
November 12, 2025 at 12:50 AM
Reposted by mcs3000
agawande.bsky.social
See the film and my update on the ongoing, pointless, man-made loss of life here: bsky.app/profile/agaw...
agawande.bsky.social Atul Gawande @agawande.bsky.social · 19d
Today @TheNewYorker released our short documentary “Rovina’s Choice” online.

It traces the ongoing effects of the sudden shutdown of US foreign aid through the story of one mother in Kenya as she seeks to save her daughter from sickness and starvation. 🎥 1/ www.newyorker.com/culture/the-...
The Shutdown of U.S.A.I.D. Has Already Killed Hundreds of Thousands
The short documentary “Rovina’s Choice” tells the story of what goes when aid goes.
www.newyorker.com
November 6, 2025 at 10:34 PM