Monday, February 13, 2017

Low Key Resistance

Okay so the title is political in nature.  So sue me.

Seems we all need to be more attentive.  I had obviously become complacent and satisfied that while the Planet was in a world of shit, right here in America, we were stumbling in the right direction.  Seems we have been poleaxed back some recently, what with the ascension to the throne of the 45th President of the USA.  All I will say is, he is a joke, but what he is trying to pull is definitely no joke.  Millions of critical eyes need to be on the lookout.

But ..........

That is not why I came here today.  It is so damn easy for me to get side tracked from that early morning clear as a bell thoughtful idea for a post to the 4 hours later here and now.  A lot happens in 4 hours in my world you know.  Coffee to make, cats to yell at as I clean up their daily leavings in and out of the litter tray.  Then there is the gazing out the window into my afternoon future that will surely create more wasted sound waves of fussing about blowing snow without a cab around me or how those plow guys just love to plow me in. ............ Bastards.

All that aside, my original thoughts were about the current hip go to word for the pinko liberal commie socialistic losers who won't stop whining and get on the bus driven by a crazy man.

RESIST!  ............If there is any time I feel proud to be hanging out Left of Center, it is now.  You Pinkos rock.

My first conscious act of resistance was after I smoked that first joint in 1965 or so.  I knew within the first minute of those rushes and giggles, the law against Nature's best herb was absurd.  At least it was absurd in my 13 year old mind, given what my reaction was to my first over indulgence of alcohol.  That was not a pretty picture, me being drunk, on my knees and puking up vodka taken straight from the bottle.  If Alcohol was legal, then the Doob should be too.

One conscious act of resistance led to another when I found myself marching against the Vietnam War.  And then it became easier for me to smell something wrong in Denmark and I made low key resistance an integral part of my life.  Where I saw Absurd rules, I broke them when possible.

If a rule makes no sense, then do what you can to change it.  A first step has always been to break that rule.  Seems it was a logical place to start.  Of course one soon realizes there is a cost to breaking rules.  I learned early on.  But I have no regrets.  50 plus years of living a slightly less stressful state of consciousness has been well worth the wrist slaps I dealt with back in the day.

They can make something illegal.  But it won't do them any good if enough folks ignore it.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................................

Friday, February 10, 2017

The Machines of War

Those of us who survive are left to shed the tears as we remember our dead.  When the departed die for no good reason other than to advance a country's selfish policy, those tears are filled with rage and sadness.  There are no worse tears I can think of.

The young go willingly.  They throw themselves into harm's way with nary a thought.  But contrary to their posturing, their bravado, they are not indestructible.

The Machines of War are arbitrary and will always finish what they begin. ..... No matter how long it takes.  No matter if there is a victory.  No matter if the machines leave thousands lying in contorted poses in their wake.  The Machines of War always win and Humanity always loses.

For my nephew on this US Navy remembrance day.  He didn't make it home...........

RIP Bobbie.  1983 - 2005

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Things Do Go Bump in the Night

When I was a child I was sure there were indeed things that went bump in the night, monsters under the bed, and closet creatures just waiting with bated breath to snatch me up and take me to their lairs.  My parents would be understanding  but firm about it being my problem, not theirs.  My dad would grunt, "Go back to sleep Bug, there's nothing to fear."

Nothing to fear?  Who was he kidding?  Sinister Evil hung out in every nook and cranny of my room.  But I would suck it up and cringe under the covers until the need to sleep overcame the need to be scared.

Eventually I learned to not fear the figments of my imagination.  Rather, I embraced them,  let them play out their worst case scenarios and then parked them in the dusty file marked "Get a Grip Mike".

Yet even now, when the flashlight is on, those figments often find its beam.

Later ........................................

Friday, February 03, 2017

Yeah, Why is this Even a Debate?

For someone who claims to not care about Religion, I sure spend a lot of time thinking about it.  It is not a top tier issue for me, but it pops into the middle of conversations I have with myself on a regular basis.  .................  Damn Facebook.

The Image to the right popped up in my FB news feed the other day.  And it pissed me off.

I was not angry because of what either the secular view or the theocratic view represented.  I am at the point now where I am just tired of Religion  and anti- religion wasting so much of our time by distracting us from the act of living the best life we can.  Both sides are unwilling to accept that they are possibly not the final answer.

Neither one is the final answer.  You cannot prove the non provable without more evidence from either.  One side uses "Faith" to support their claims.  The other uses theory.  Neither one  is or can be the final answer at this time.  Definitive answers do not exist, and something tells me they never will.

And does it matter in the big scheme, the plan, this trip our species is taking through the flow of Time?  This is a petty and stupid disagreement, God or no God.  Yet because of both, millions have lost their lives over the millenniums.

Religion was created by Man for Man.  Science was created by Man for Man.  Both offer explanations for the why,what and where we came from, where we are now, and where we might be headed.  And both are nothing but throwing darts at a dartboard.  Score is kept by who can shout down the other the best.  Its all bullshit.

Later .................................................

Monday, January 30, 2017

No Lester, It is not Complicated

Lester Holt of NBC News tonight was summing up happenings surrounding the Trump Regime's recent Muslim Ban order.  He tried to appear neutral in his summation by finishing with and I paraphrase,  "Many in America are upset of this perceived violation of basic human rights, while others are understandably concerned over the threat of terrorism in this country.  It's complicated ....."

No Lester, it is not fucking complicated.  Rather than calling out Trump's obvious manipulation of people's unfounded fears, instead, you feed the flames by intimating the fear has some validity.  You sir are as bad as Fox.  Asshole.

Unfounded fear is unfounded fear and should never be given any consideration other than it is unfounded fear.  Instead of just giving us the news, you are helping to create it and keep the fear at a fever pitch.  You did your viewers a true dis-service tonight and also lost my respect.

Jerkwad ..........................................

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Not Just Another True Story

So I'm cruising around Facebook this AM, not paying attention to what roads I am on.  Come across a post with the image at the right.  Something about Trump being not only the first hybrid of a Pig and a Human, but the first blend of an animal with a human ever.

I don't know about the first one, but I know Trump is not a hybrid of a pig and a human.

........ The true story ........

70 plus years ago in the Bronx, a real estate broker and his wife wanted a child.  Sadly, he and his darling wife could not have children.  He was shooting blanks or she was barren.  Not sure, cuz back then, well, nobody checked, it just depended on who was talking.

Well, this real estate guy knew a guy who knew a guy who was a janitor at the biology building at NYU.  He told them he could fix them right up.  He had been paying attention while sweeping up around the egg heads gazing into microscopes and such.  He just needed a quiet place to get it done.

The real estate broker fixed him up with a locked room in the basement of one of the tenements he owned in Queens.  Bought the supplies and equipment the janitor wanted and the janitor performed his magic.  Before the year was out, the Donald crawled out of that dark tenement basement room.

Real estate dad was at first concerned.  Donald didn't look normal.

The janitor calmed real estate guy down, " Yeah, the hybrids always look a tad odd when they're young.  He'll grow out of it."

Not quite sure about his young son turning out fine, real estate asked why did his son look the way he did.

"You know I couldn't trust yours or your wife's DNA.  And since you were in such a damn hurry, I used what was handy."

"Oh", Real Estate Guy's concern grew.  "And what was handy?"

"Well, I used some DNA of mine and some from a nag's ass I moonlight with on weekends in Central Park ."

"So you're telling me my son is part shit room cleaner and a horse's ass?"

"That about sum's it up.  But fear not, one or the other will become dominant by puberty."

And that is the first and only, though undisclosed until today, successful Human/Horse's Ass to date.

True story.  Add it to your quiver of alternate facts.

Later ......................................................

Tuesday, January 24, 2017


I have been on Facebook maybe a week or so.  In that time I have accumulated some friends and as it turns out, lost some too.  The whole friend thing is odd to me.  Many of my Facebook "friends" are indeed friends from my life story, but many are not.  The concept of calling someone a friend or not a friend based on bandwidth swapped back and forth is a hard concept for me to get my head around.

I consider the folks who have been consistent in their visits to my blog as friends.  That took some time however.  It did not happen with the request button at one end and the accept button at the other. I figure I will accept a friend request from anyone, but reserve the right to not consider them friends, but more as folks I exchange words and ideas with.

I haven't paid attention to my "friend count". I know it is higher than when I gave FB another chance a week or so ago.  I have no idea who has "unfirended" me, with the exception of one fellow from my high school days who took the time to send me a message that he was indeed "unfriending" me and why.

It was not that we are politically opposed to each other, though we are definitely on opposing sides.  It was because I somehow was able to place a comment on one of his other friend's pages that apparently was not held in high regard.  Remember, we don't look at the world through the same rose colored glasses.

First of all, the offending comment was nothing to get panties in a bunch.  I just disagreed with the circle jerk this crew was having while they beat up on Liberals.  I was accused of bypassing some FB filter and intruding on their choir practice.  Please.  I barely know how to navigate from the home page to my page.  The post I responded to was in front of me so I responded.

Regardless, I do appreciate that this fellow gave me his reasons for casting me into his unfriended pile.  But not because I would then be heart broken I had lost a friend on Facebook.  It was just the polite thing to do as he saw it, and I respect that.

Which brings me to my point.

The word "friend" like so many other words is over used, abused, and taken for granted.  I do not care how many  Facebook friends I have.  Matter of fact, true friends are hard to find.  When I find them, I know it.  Everyone else is just someone I have conversations with.  A true friend of mine is someone who allows me to be an asshole, yet still comes over for a beer.

Later ...............................................

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Tomorrow Never Arrives

I was probably about age 6 when I first took notice of one of my father's favorite sayings.  It may have been that first Eureka moment in my life when I realized my parents might claim to have all the answers, but not always the right ones or ones that were unassailable.  I guess I discovered logic, or at least became aware of its existence.

"Tomorrow never arrives. "

"Sure it does Daddy."

"No.  No, it doesn't.  By the time tomorrow comes, it is today."

The man had me stumped.  I began chewing on this notion, that tomorrow never arrives.  It had to.  In my bones I knew it had to.  So I retreated into my elementary school mind and worked the notion hard for quite awhile. In kid's time, it seemed like it took forever to come up with a way to one up my ole man.

One day when I was sure I had it.  I found Dad doing Dad stuff.  I squared my shoulders and blurted, "Tomorrow does too arrive."

He stopped doing his Dad stuff and turned to look at me.  He looked at me for some seconds.  "Oh, really?  How do you figure that?

Standing a little straighter and trying to marshal up more bravado, "Today is Yesterday's Tomorrow."

Well, my ole man smiled.  He didn't say a word for what seemed like forever.  And then, "Well you know what Bug? You have me there."

As I walked away, he said to my back,  "Good job."  I remember immediate pride.

While this trip down memory lane is nice and all, my point of this post is I haven't quit chewing on Dad's original saying.  I have tried expanding it this way, that way, and eventually tried to accept that that was all there is.

It would not stay down.  Haunted me on a regular basis.  But then Time, Existence , and what it all means has had me puzzled since I first stumbled upon them.  They will most likely continue to do so I guess until the light has left my eyes and my meat's gone cold.  But I do have my latest opinion on the subject.

What happened yesterday and will happen tomorrow are intrinsically tied up, wrapped up, entwined with the events that unfold today.  It is a complicated flow of the passage of time, the actions of today  and yesterday that dictate what happens in our future tomorrows .  And often it takes the passage of many todays before we understand what happened in all those yesterdays.  And though we might have the answer today, it most likely is one we should have had yesterday and we will now pay the price for it tomorrow.

Later .............................................

Friday, January 20, 2017


So now what do I do?  All my comments on the previous post, which appear to be veterans of the retirement gig, suggest I slow down and enjoy what time remains.  Good plan I am sure.  One to strive for.  Unfortunately, being a life long loose dog, go it my own way kinda guy, I just cannot predict where this all ends up.

Its not a case of what to do now that I am free and clear of my "day job".  Rather, I know myself well enough that when faced with uncertainly or multiple forks in the road, I will usually pick the one I didn't notice in the first place.

So anyway, one of those forks I have already walked down.  Because I wanted to use my shop's Facebook page to say goodbye to the area that used my shop over the years, I decided to update my personal page.  Damn, if I did not get sucked in.

Like I said, it started with using Facebook to button up business related issues and ended with me deep into the belly of the Facebook Beast.  And Facebook is a beast.  Maybe more akin to the Sirens from the Odyssey.  Seductive ego boosting taunts abound everywhere.

Once I became trapped with countless numbers of people demanding I "like this, or comment on that, I realized I had to set some boundaries, or create some counter sanity in order to deal with it.  My counter sanity is this blog.  Here I am able to slow down as my blogging friends have suggested without the constant red icon informing me there is something, someone new I need to pay attention to.

Don't get me wrong.  I am enjoying my re-entry into Facebook.  I have exchanged niceties and some good ole boy insults with people from my past.  And it has been a blast.  When the newness wears off, I hope I will have reestablished some old friendships with little maintenance on my part.

As to the Inauguration - Fuck the Inauguration.

Later ...........................................................................................

Thursday, January 19, 2017

A New Chapter

So, it has been awhile since I last visited my blog. Normally my periods of MIA are filled with nothing of interest to relay.  Same ole boring day to day crap that fills my life like it fills the days of everyone else. ........ SSDD and all that.

Well, my recent absence has been filled with excitement, stress, anger, elation, and any number of things not found in the basic make up of SSDD.

I have sold the bike shop.  The gyrations and emotional garbage that accompanied the early January transition are now safely in my rear view.  Because it was not a friendly transition, but one filled with hurt feelings and anger, I came out of it fired up and ready to do battle again.  This old dog is pissed and will re-mark his territory in the near to distant future.  Count on it.

I would get into specifics but why?  Let's just say a long friendship and mutual respect I thought existed does not exist anymore.  The bridge between us may not be burned down, but it is indeed on fire.  I have heard that Time heals all wounds. .......................... We'll see.

In the meantime, I have moved on for the moment, tabling any plans for the long term.  I won't call it retirement, though it may indeed turn out that way.

As one chapter ends, another begins.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................................

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Alice's Restaurant

So BA and I headed over to Brendan and Susan's place today for another annual Thanksgiving feast to beat all others ever celebrated in the known Universe.

The turkey was perfect.  The beer was plentiful and cold.  All the normal trimmings one could hope for were in attendance, with more dessert choices than this man could even hope to best.

A big fat doober before and one or two after our sumptious repast, and now at this moment I can barely move.  Just sitting up is painful. ........................ Lord, please put me out of my misery.

Breaking bread with folks from a few of the many New England corners has become a comfortable and expected high light of our holiday season.

No matter what madness exists in my recent past.  No matter what madness may lurk in my upcoming future.  No matter what might come down, go down, this night I sit here thankful for the company of fine folks from away.  Sharing polite conversation, everyone carefully avoiding the trap of politics and turkey.  A raunchy joke or two resulting in loud and  for some, guilty laughter.  Not me.

Today was for celebrating Life and the enjoyment of another person's company.

I sit here fat and happy ................ with refrains of Alice's Restaurant running through my brain.

Hope your Thanksgiving was everything you hoped for.

Later ..............................................

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Stupid Cat

A purring cat looking for a good head rub is what Life should be about.  Savor these moments.

Eyeleen was born in the master bedroom closet, oh, I guess about 13 years ago.  Bony, puny, and sickly, she never achieved normal cat status, physically or mentally.  Only saw her at meals and for years would only tolerate my wife's hands on her, not mine.  She existed inside our home as a feral member of the Sam Page Road Feline Bar and Grill.

Her brother Gee Gee Snotflinger was the friendly one, the cat with the cool swagger.  We lost him a couple of years ago.  That's when Eyeleen began to warm up to both of us.   Suddenly I was able to pet her when she was next to her food dish.  Slowly she increased her tolerance levels to the here and now.

Now, she is a pain in the ass.  Always wants attention, won't leave me alone. ..........

"Stupid Cat.  Stupid Cat.  Who's the Stupid Cat?"  She loves it when I whisper this into her null and void brain cavity as she rubs her head in my beard.

Damn, cats are odd animals.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..................................

Tuesday, November 22, 2016


"Whenever I've had success, I never learn from it. Success usually breeds a degree of hubris. When you fail, that's when you learn. " - Moby

I admit now it was my arrogance, along with millions of others, that helped The Donald ascend to our most sacred seat of power.  I was overly confident that Americans would never sink as low as they did on November 8, 2016.

"Surely", I thought, "we can't have that many people who could push their moron button at the same time and vote in the man who will become President on Friday, January, 20, 2017."

I was wrong.  A majority of Americans were wrong.

I could whine as I did back in 2000 when Gore won the popular vote, but lost the election.  Until we actually decide to re-write our election laws to reflect a truer form of democracy other than the mutant system we have in place now, any whining I might partake in will be of no use to anyone, especially myself.

I could blame the Internet.  I could waste time blaming the Right.  And though I would be more on target blaming the Democrats, blame is just so useless.  I mean, blame is usually creating excuses for the failure of one's side to marshal enough support to push their agenda over the top.

The blame for this extraordinary Flame-out of the Left should be shouldered by them and no one else.  Certainly contributions from outside groups, situations, etc. did not help.  But we who voted so confidently for what we perceived to be the best candidate need to acknowledge that we let this happen.  We arrogantly underestimated the level of anger out there aimed at every politician in DC, Right and Left.

That I do not understand why so many people are unhappy is what might have set me up for this serious miscalculation.  I am in a much better position now than I was in 2007-2008.  For me, every year since has seen an upswing.  Yeah, it wasn't meteoric, but come on, the hole this country was in eight years ago was certainly worse than now.

That myself and the country are in better straits is a moot point.  For some reason, America has decided to chew on the fear of the unknown, rather than spitting it out and getting on with more important things.

So what to do?

First thing I guess is to never assume any group larger than three to have the aggregate IQ they exude as individuals.  The IQ of a mob appears to be geometric inverse of the positive one might hope would exist, but does in deed not exist.  Herds have no minds, just automatic reactions.

The Democrats I hope will take a serious lesson from this blow and redesign their ground game for the mid-terms coming up.

Later ...........................................

Thursday, November 10, 2016

The Deplorable Double Wide - 99 Words

Flash Fiction site, "Carrot Ranch Communications" does a weekly 99 word challenge.  This week's challenge (11/9/16) is "write a story that pivots around an unexpected ending".  

In lieu of watching the news, commenting on the news, and hating the news, I figured to give it a go.  Anything to take my mind off the nightmares that will haunt me for at least the next 4 years.

My effort this week:

The Deplorable Double Wide

Roscoe opened his eyes.  Disoriented, he took stock of his surroundings.  He was seated at a wooden table in the kitchen of a deplorable double wide.  

Where he was now was not the location of his last waking moment.  He was sure it was tipping shots and slapping backs with his Wall Street buds in lower Manhattan.  On the big screen, their guy was kicking ass. 

“Uh, Where am I?”

A pudgy hand with no wrist dropped a plate of Spam and eggs in front of him.

“Home, you dumass.  You got shitfaced last night cuz your man won.”
There you have it.  

Keep it 'tween the ditches
Also cross posted at BoZone - Too

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

The Day After

I sat in front of this computer before I turned it on and just stared at the dead screen.  I sat here for quite awhile trying to get my mind around what happened yesterday.  I decided to not post any response to the complete repudiation of everything I had stood for since, well, 1980 at least.  I did not turn on the computer.  I was sure I had nothing to say.

I stumbled through normal morning routines and wasted time staring out one window or another.  I sparked up some doob to commemorate the one small consolation prize I had taken home from this election.  Recreational Pot in Maine is now a done deal.

 Once I had become satisfactorily baked, I decided that maybe I should at the least try to get a grip on my overwhelming sense of disappointment in yesterday's election.  In times like this throughout my life, writing down how I feel can be cathartic.  Then again, it sometimes backfires, leaving me angrier than before I put pen to paper.  It is indeed a crap shoot.  The Doob has certainly helped to keep the ape-shit angry part of me at bay.

Donald Trump will be our next president. ............

Hmm ............ There I said it.  The reality is now right in front of me in black and white.

I don't have to like it, but I do have to accept it.  I have to accept it if I can expect to move past this dark day and face whatever days are coming at me.  Wallowing in angry despair will do nothing but make every day an angry day.  There is no point to being angry when there is absolutely nothing I can do about the outcome.  It is what it is.

I won't wax poetic or look for Pollyanna hiding in the shadows in my mind.  There is no positive twist on what happened.  There is no silver lining I can see at this point in time.  I will allow my anger to churn and burn awhile and wallow in my own self pity.

At some point though I will snap out of it.  I always have.  Because I know that all we can do in this Life is put one foot in front of the other and try not to stumble.

Later .................................................................

Tuesday, November 08, 2016

"A Cicatricial Reminder" - 100 Words

I was sure I had purged my belly full of anger a few weeks ago.  Apparently not.

I decided to once again try my hand at some Flash Fiction when I found a blog run by an old Flash Fiction friend that offered up a weekly 100 word challenge based on the prompts she came up with.

I also decided that writing an upbeat happy 100 words would put me in just the right mood to walk down to the Town Hall and step into a voting booth.

Try as I might, I could not fashion anything warm and fuzzy, wry or humorous.  All I had floating around inside the cranial void were serious negative waves dude.

I was actually surprised.  I thought that some of my recent rants, posted and unposted , would have set me straight.

So my re-entry into Flash Fiction is dark, ........ yeah, not a pleasant tale.

Be forewarned and remember it is only a story.

Monday, November 07, 2016

Tomorrow - Midnight

Beady eyes drop into slits, raising his lips into a crooked smile.  Pallid crooked fingers grasp one another as if desperate for each other's company.  He is sure he can smell it.  Smell the blood as it floats to the surface.  His eyes widen as he considers the impossible.  Could this dream actually be coming true?

Before his hopeful improbability morphs into a definite reality, he turns his head away, afraid to look.  Something inside tells him he will not like what he sees, even after assurances from others he is sure are smarter than he is.  His insecurities, all of them, flash through his mind as he attempts to muster up the strength to caste them aside and face his dream come true or his nightmare created in the bowels of Hell.

As he cowers with his back turned, he wonders why he has so much invested in something he has no control over or for that matter even understands completely.   His body begins to quiver and then shake as he purges the pent up emotions two years in the making.  Finally a deep guttural sigh escapes his lips and his shoulders slump in resignation.

He turns to face his destiny ..................................................

Meanwhile on the other side of the tracks.

Another set of beady eyes does not turn away.  These eyes have been here before.  They have witnessed 30 years of disappointments and triumphs.  Those eyes are used to this moment.  Her face hardens as she sees results trickle in.  Her face shows no emotion, her true feelings buried deep by years of practice.  Yet, behind her blank stare and calm demeanor, her insecurities, all of them, tumble through her mind.   She has the strength to caste them aside, but cannot at the moment find the key.  She closes her eyes and consciously slows her breathing.  She seeks that center where equilibrium will once again find a home.

Instead, a bead of sweat runs down the middle of her strong time tested spine.  It finds the small of her back, causing a shiver of sorts.  She knows she has to face her new reality.  There are no nightmares in her life, just another disappointment or triumph.  She is sure she will go on.

She opens her cold calculating eyes .........................................

Sunday, November 06, 2016

The Stench of a People's Fear

Harsh unreasonable winds drive the stench of a people’s fear, turning their terror into anger as it sweeps through the land.  It poisons everything it touches.  Soap box heroes use vitriolic bellows to keep the nation's bad temper racing towards a feverish and ill conceived conclusion.

No one cares what effect being angry for anger's sake will have on society once the winds of discontent have subsided.  No one seems to care that being afraid is the fertile ground where failure is sown.  And no longer is there any interest in pragmatic solutions, just irresponsible blame.

The once vigorous and thriving pockets of common sense and sanity scattered here and there, have seen their bulwarks worn down into apathetic resignation.  Fighting the good fight has turned into an exercise in futility.

"What use is there to fight the tide?", some ask.

"Go with the flow", others mumble.   And everyone gives in to the hate and discontent that swirls around them.

Meanwhile the malcontents of all sides blindly feed their own fires, dragging the rest of the great land down into their self inflicted miseries.  Nobody will win.  Everyone loses.

When a citizenry begins feeding off their fears instead of their courage, the first casualties are their greatness, followed soon by their pride.  It is indeed a sad thing when a great and proud people hate themselves so much, they are willing to allow fear to take over their lives.

Later ...........................................

Tuesday, November 01, 2016

In a Week

In a week, we will finally be able to take a vacation from probably the most contentious and ugly election any of us have ever seen.  The process was made even tougher by the nomination of two sad excuses for nominees.  The offerings are nothing new.  We have had many years of bad choices on both sides.  But none are saddled with as much baggage as the two we have to decide between this time.

Both candidates have had deeper than the run of the mill skeletons to deal with.  Whipped into a frenzy by campaign goons, crazed fans of both sides insist the other candidate should at the least, not be elected, with many crying to throw the bum in jail.

None of us are perfect, especially what constitutes the "cream of the crop" of either party.  By the time any politician/business man has risen to the level of these two in the political and business arena, many expedient choices, back room deals, and out and out sleaze have been left in their wake.  Anyone trying use ethics, morals, or other high ideals to choose which one to vote for is living in Pollyana land.  That is they are deluding themselves that either one place ideals over their own interests.

I had made my mind up months ago.  Neither emails nor groping was going to affect me.  Filtering out the noise, I considered each one and how they had responded to accusations and attacks from the other side.  I took into account who actually had the kind of experience I would like to see in a President of our country.  And I also tried to evaluate the skill set each had based on the national political and geopolitical arenas they would be operating in.

I decided I did not like Donald Trump back in the 1980s.  I decided he was a greasy snake oil salesman who was more impressed with the legend he built in his mind, than any good his actions may or may not result in.  While I did not even entertain whether I would like to see him president, my early decision on his character ensured he would never find room in any choice I made in the future.

My initial impression of Donald Trump was spot on.  He is indeed a sleazy snake oil salesman.  And by his response to softball attacks at the beginning and then heavier hits as the election loomed large, I knew this was not a man I wanted batting for me in the political big leagues.  He was and will always be, all hat and no cattle.  The thought of him going toe to toe with the other big leaguers from across the oceans, well, they would eat him for breakfast.  Blowhards and bullies like Donald Trump are usually cowards from my experience.  It would be a mistake to allow him to be one as our representative.

Many years ago, I decided Hillary was a fighter and not above using the tools at hand to improve her position.  That she was practicing her selfish climb to the top in the arena she is now hoping to reign supreme, is actually a plus in my mind.  She has been under a steady barrage of attacks for 30 years or so.   She has weathered every one.  She has shown she can play with the big dogs.  She has spine.

My first choice, Bernie, has spine also.  Unfortunately he had more than a few decks stacked against him.  His insistence on not publicly embracing either party and going his own way ensured his run would fail.  Though, he did make them nervous.  I wish he had done this years ago.

Regardless, I will stand in the voting booth on Tues, Nov 8 and cast my vote for Hillary Clinton.  Definitely the best choice considering the alternative.

Later ...........................................

Monday, October 31, 2016

Man Bait

A few years ago, a segment of the Today Show was dedicated to the supposed "Bacon Shortage" we were about to endure in our collective futures.  As I had become hardened and immune to unfounded fear mongering, I was confident I would not allow this gloomy prediction to have any effect on my fragile psyche.  It appeared at the time though, the prospect of a pork shortage of any kind did cause me some concern.  Pork, specifically bacon,  is a staple here on Sam Page Road.  We love our bacon.  We stocked up.

I had always assumed bacon was good on just about anything.  Apparently the on camera crew over to the Today Show agreed.  They highlighted some of the bacon laced products available.  They had bacon candy, bacon beer, bacon toothpaste, jeeez, they even had bacon scented soap.  One of the women commented that the soap might just be the perfect "Man Bait".

Come on ladies.  While smelling like bacon might appeal to some men and even more than a few women, you know damn well all you have to do to attract a man is show up within eyesight.  You are the perfect bait, constructed carefully by evolutionary forces and self design over the years to do what it takes to propagate the species.  We don't need bacon soap, teddies, mini skirts or eyeliner.  Once we see you, you have us by the short hairs.

Of course, all the fussin, fiddlin and readjustin of your positives does seem to help speed up the process and gussies up otherwise bland public spaces.  But really, it is not necessary.

Later .............................................