Me, right, with my friend Roberta.
The second No Kings protest against the Trump regime was held on Saturday, October 18, 2025. These are some of the photos I took of all the people I know who turned out for the event in Scottsbluff, Nebraska.
Tag: Scottsbluff Page 1 of 2
A photo of me I actually like. No Kings Protest in Scottsbluff, October 18, 2025. The guy with the Trump balloon took this photo of me.
It wasn’t until 2025 that I decided to protest. I’ve made the phone calls and sent the letters, but, over the last 15-20 years, all I get is a polite “fuck you” or no response at all. At today’s No King’s protest in Scottsbluff, I joined at least 300 people in an effort to try and effect some change.
On May 17, I sat down in the middle of the night to record my thoughts on the state of the local paper, the Scottsbluff Star-Herald, and share a little bit what it was like to work there.
The Cedar Canyon Wildlife Management Area (WMA) provides a great opportunity to see animals, big and small, during any of the hikes you can take in the area. You can choose from hikes along a clearly marked trail, hikes along two tracks and hikes to the top of the butte for spectacular views of the valley.
Since I am only a small monkey, I go wherever my adventurous humans go. They seem to always choose the game trail, which humans also use to the top. It’s a 45-minute trek straight up where you can see some pretty views. We usually walk at least halfway across the top, where you can see even more.
I had a dream last Saturday in which everyone I cared about had died from COVID-19. Unlike some of my PTSD flashbacks/nightmares, I couldn’t wake up from this dream. I couldn’t stop what has happening in the dream and I couldn’t change the narrative. I woke up drenched in sweat and freaking out. The dream made me take a look at something I’ve been pushing aside for quite a while.
Even though I was there for an article for the Star-Herald newspaper, Barb Schlothauer and her fellow Soroptimists convinced me to help them make May baskets in 2018. It was still chilly enough at the end of April for me to be wearing my green sweater.
Anyone who has seen me during winter for the last three decades has likely seen me wearing my green sweater. Shortly after moving out of the dorms at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and into my first apartment, I had a conversation with my grandmother about being cold. I was on a budget and heat wasn’t high on my list of priorities. Gram wondered if I couldn’t afford to turn the heat up, why didn’t I wear a sweater. I didn’t have one. I didn’t have the money to buy one.
By the time I left her house in Middletown, New York, I had a pocket full of cash to buy a sweater of my choosing. It took months to find a sweater I liked.
Almost everything I learned about driving, I learned by observing my grandmother, Lorraine. I typically hold the steering wheel as she did, I swear and curse people as I go about my journey, I love manual cars, and I learned the usefulness of a lead foot. Those skills have all been useful and put into practice while living in western Nebraska.
Youth enjoy the day at the Panhandle Equality Pride event at Frank Park in Scottsbluff.
Paul and I always attend the Panhandle Equality picnic. Now in its fourth year, the event continues to grow. This year, there were fantastic musical performances, some from acts who traveled from Lincoln and Omaha to be a part of making a difference in western Nebraska.
I don’t know everyone at the event, but there are always the familiar faces. They are working to make life better for the next generation so that, one day, the LGBTQ community won’t have to work so hard just to be seen as an equal.
I went to the Scotts Bluff County Fair and wrote stories for the Star-Herald about rabbits and poultry. I also met the best chicken in the world.
This is Mayda Leggott. She owns me, the best damn chicken in the world. Mrs. Brooke Heine helps the 4-H kids out because they need both their hands free to keep us chickens from running away. Shush now. I need to listen and make sure Mayda tells the judge everything she’s supposed to.