Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The State of the Union

"My fellow Americans."

The President pauses and looks up at the peanut gallery for just one friendly face.  He finds none. So he looks back at his teleprompter.  He sees the words so carefully crafted, polished and contrived to convince the citizens he is on top of it all.  He shakes his head and a slight grin forms at the corners of his mouth.

"My fellow Americans ......... Once a year at least, my job as your president is to come down here to the hallowed halls of Congress to make a speech.  I would rather not be here, but being here is a requirement of my job.  It is actually written in the Constitution that I show up. I have this speech set up on the teleprompter.  It is about the State of the Union.  It is my take on where this country is now, where it was last year, and where it is headed in the near future.  Once I have hit all the bullet points, you will know what we as Americans should be concerned with.  The economy, jobs, taxes, and because it is just 24 hours since MLK Day, I suppose I ought toss out few thoughts on race and content of character crap."

The President pauses once again.  This pause is expected.  It allows the audience time to fulfill their obligation to applause after every paragraph   Instead there is silence.  Nothing.  The President looks out and sees the wide eyed look of astonishment on every face in the room.  His grin turns to a full blown smile.

"But I know you don't want to hear it.  What you should be concerned with sucks hind tit to what really concerns you.  You would much rather worry about deflated footballs, what Katy Perry will wear at Super Bowl halftime and will Lenny Kravitz show wearing his classic mirrored sunglasses.  And of course there is the possible cut of Taylor Swift from Triple J's Hot 100 list.  This would indeed be tragic and affect all of us for at least the next 5 seconds.

Another pause.  Another moment of silence.  The President sweeps the room with his eyes.

"So I won't stand up here and bore you with what I think is important to us as Americans.  You already know what is important.  All you need is a twitter account and a few apps to fill you in on that.  Worrying about the ethics of our sports teams weighs heavier on your minds than the shady dealings in the smoke filled back rooms of this building."

The President doesn't pause this time.  He pushes forward and his smile fades.

"I just do not care anymore as it has become grossly apparent that you don't care either.  The state of the union is a mess and you only have yourselves to blame.  Thank you very much and go fuck yourselves."

The President steps back.  He raises his hand as if to wave and then turns his hand and flips everyone there the finger and walks out.

Later Gator ...................................................

Monday, January 12, 2015

Is Satan Real?

Sometime  this past summer I found my latest edition of  "The Watchtower" stuck in the storm door.  I used to actively resist rubbing shoulders or other body parts with folks of the intense religious variety.  But now I have come to terms with the Lord and how folks feel about him/her.  With less time left than I had yesterday, I decided there were things I would not, could not deal with any longer.  I still have lots to cram into what time I have left, and worrying about stuff like God, the Devil, and where they sit regarding Good n' Evil is riding the pine at the moment.  Odd how if it feels Good, it is probably Evil.

So I have become friendly and polite to the couple of Bible thumping Witness Ladies who seem intent on saving my soul.  And instead of tossing their fine comic in the trash as soon as I hit the kitchen, I take it to the office, crack it open for some comic relief, and give their propaganda a chance to turn this heathen into a believer.  Truth be told I usually open it when  under an influence of one kind or another.  And though I should treat said periodical seriously, I chuckle more than is religiously safe I am sure.

The one issue that really caught my eye was titled,  "Is Satan Real?"

I wasn't sure if this was an open book test or was I suppose to provide an essay answer and then open it and find out if I was right.  Not wanting to be caught cheating as the consequences could be rather dire,  I opted to consider the question and come up with my take before finding the "truth" of the matter between the covers of this Witness magazine.

I decided that it does not matter if Satan is real.  It does not matter if God is real.  Reality is flexible when considering notions that are created in the mind and not a result of observing the physical world.  Besides I don't care if Satan or for that matter if God is real.  If either of them are that interested in torturing me in the afterlife or before, then they need to get a life.  My impact or influence is pretty far from having any effect on the over all cluster fuck that makes up life on this planet.

I actually think a better question would be "Is Satan Evil?"  I wonder if somehow the whole Good v. Evil thing has been twisted bass-ackwards over the years.  Anything that feels good is "Evil" , yet inflicting pain and anguish on people in the name of God is somehow "Good"?

I dunno, seems one might be the other , or at the least, not much difference between the two.  Which leaves me in a quandary........... Not.

Good and Evil are not black and white.  They are every color under the Sun.


Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Thousand Word Picture

My wife posted the image to the left on her Facebook page minutes after the final play of Patriots/Ravens dust-up down to Gillette Stadium last night.  No explanation, just the picture. No explanation was needed.  All our fanatical Raven relatives and friends will get the point.

Generally the Balti-moron fanbase allowed their mouths to run without brains engaged last week.  They always do. Can't seem to keep from talkin smack about this, that and everything under the Sun.

Something about talking smack with no back up.  Can't take it back and it sits in the back of the throat making one feel nauseous.  One could only hope this is the case for the multitude of loudmouths down Bawlamer way.

Meanwhile Pats fans seemed subdued last week.......  Quietly Confident?  ....... Hmm.........No, more like quietly nervous.  We didn't have the best results when meeting the evil Ravens in postseason matches in recent years.  The Ravens were not scared of the Brady/Belichick led Patriots.  They proved it today.  They smacked the Pats in the mouth early and never let up.  The Pats got back up, never gave up and took the lead with about 5 minutes left.  In a squeaker that came down to a timely interception, the Pats prevailed.

In your face big haired Raven Hon and all Raven fans everywhere.  I don't want to hear excuses, whinin, no complainin.   Already heard and read more than enough from you last week.


Wednesday, January 07, 2015


So it's 2015.  Another year has passed while another new one spits and sputters its way into life.

I have become so used to each year being wasted with rampant global stupidity, I decided I guess a couple of years ago to pay as little attention as possible to said stupidity.  Nothing seems to change much.  Good or bad.  We continue to put idiots in the drivers seats and allow them to take us wherever their interest lies.  So this year it is the Republicans who will dictate the road trip.  Already their best blowhards are posturing, slapping each other on the back, and rubbing their hands together in anticipation of screwing the average schmoe more than usual.

I especially like the Right's call to bi-partisanship.  I know they know what it is called, but over the last twenty five years I became convinced they did not have a clue on how to actually do it.  Yet here they are trying to be the gracious winners and give the impression they want to include Democrats in their plans.

Hmm ..................................... I say Bullshit.

Regardless, I will enter 2015 as I have every other year.  With some enthusiasm and optimism that this year will at the least be no worse than the previous year.  Unfortunately it is becoming more difficult to hold onto any hope of a brighter future past the first of February.

Happy New Year ... and oh yeah ... Keep it 'tween the ditches.

Sunday, November 09, 2014

Rampant Stupidity

Not sure what to make of our recent mid term election other than as I figured, once again Rampant Stupidity raised its ugly Winger head and Americans from coast to coast voted against their own self interests.  It didn't help that the Democrats cannot, could not, or is it would not grow a big enough set to stand up to the Koch/John Bircher assholes who are buying this country one politician at a time.

I'm done.  You fuckin idiots can pound sand.  You losers continue to believe the myth of the two party system and the delusion that what we have is even close to a democratic process.  The two party system is a sham and the leaders of both parties  know it.  America needs to figure it out and break the stranglehold those dickwads in DC have on our political process.


Wednesday, November 05, 2014

100 Words - Not Sure Why

Not sure why I suddenly have this intense urge to write.  Not sure why I am still damn busy at the bike shop.  Guess there are a lot of why’s in and around my life.  Most I don't wonder about.  Some cause me to pause to attempt figuring the why like if I could figure out that why, I would finally have a secure grip on this insane trip I am on.  Since I cannot for the life of me, figure out the many whys, I sit clueless and empty of any explanation of what, where and most important, why.

Monday, November 03, 2014

Before You Vote - These 100 Words

Facts intermingled with conjecture and forgone conclusions cast Truth aside in favor of expedient knee jerked solutions.  Lost in a sea of deception, specious goals are massaged by lying hands, replacing Honesty with Truth’s ugly step sister, the Half Truth.

The Midway Squawkers and Snake Oil Salesmen insist and demand the Half  Truth into our lives hoping their deception lasts long enough for them to cash in their nickels and dimes. 

Assaulted long enough, we allow recent lies to become our New Truth. Delusion casts itself in stone and merry populations dance around it happy as if they had brains.

I actually wrote this back in 2012 under the title "Lying Truth" as my response to a writing challenge.  But I felt it was appropriate for the Present as nothing has changed for the better.  Truth be told, I really think there are more numb skulls than there were just two years ago.  

Sunday, November 02, 2014

Ebola Terrorist

He doesn't trust her.   ............... Why he does not trust her had something to do with her breaking promises, lying, .... Hmm ..I wonder if he trusts himself?  But be rest assured, that even though Kaci Hickox, the nurse who recently returned from Africa, has shown no symptoms, fever, puke, the squirts, or anything else that would indicate she is a card carrying Ebola Terrorist, Paul is positive she is up to no good.   Apparently the court believed her and the Health Care Profession and chose to not get sucked into the irrational vortex of Right Wing Hysteria being spewed by our illustrious governor, one Paul -Asswipe- LePage.

He claims Ebola does not always show symptoms until hours before the person dies.

Ebola is not sneaky nor is it quick.  The Guv is blowing it out his ass on this one.  Of course, most everything he says seems to smell like a fart.

He claims the rise in immigrants in the state has caused spikes in Hepatitis, Aids, TB, and probably hangnails.

“I have been trying to get the president to pay attention to the illegals who are in our country. Because there is a spike in hepatitis C, tuberculosis, HIV, and it’s going on deaf ears.”

Actually Paul, incidents of Hepatitis have been falling on a consistent basis.  TB is at it's lowest in 50 years. ............ Again I think you have broken wind with this one also.  And why the mania over illegals?  Not like Maine is a hotbed of illegal immigration.  Maybe you are concerned because of the rise in Taco joint openings throughout the state.  Yeah, that's how they sneak in.  They open restaurants.  .

The simple fact of the matter Paul is you have proven yourself to be a liar of the first water.  You have proven yourself to be a mean spirited bully.  You have brought embarrassment and shame to our state.  Yet you want me to trust you to do a good job for another four years when you have not shown in the past four you even know what a good job is.

You should be ashamed of jumping on the scare em to death bandwagon with Christie and the rest of the Winger Alarmists.

You Sir are a flaming asshole.  And I mean that in the most respectful way.  Assholery is an art and you have perfected it.

So fellow citizens around this grand land, be sure to vote or you could end up with a jerk like Paul in charge.

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

Friday, October 31, 2014


I punched up Clapton's "24 Nights", poured myself a beer and drank a shot or two of the Demon Rum.  Actually it was some Devilish sour mash ............ Satan tempts us with so many evils, it is a wonder we haven't caved to his, or is it her wishes,,,,,,          Hmm ,,,,,,,,

Oh Yeah. ........ We have God in our corner.  God will protect us, save us from ourselves and lead our worthless souls down that Righteous path.  Yeah I forgot about God what with all the hate and discontent that swirls around the planet like the wind.

I figure I can't be blamed for feeling like Beezlebub is breathing down my neck, looking over my shoulder, trying to back seat drive my life.  The Antichrist seems to be everywhere all the time.  But look for God and I guess Big Guy only goes to church on Sundays or visits the occasional Mosque every other week or so.  And floppin to our knees and praying to him seems hit or miss, mostly miss.  But I hear he can carry a Helluva tune.

I know many many folks take their religious beliefs seriously.  I respect that.  You do what you have to to make it through this sad existence as sane as possible.  I will do the same.

I tried to take religion seriously.  My parents exposed me to it, Hell I went through a period when I was 14 or so contemplating what it might be like to be an Episcopal priest.  I don't know who saved me from working every Sunday herding a flock.  It might have been God.  But then it makes more sense it was Lucifer wooing me down the dark path.  ..... OF course my puny considerations, wishes and hopes most likely did not even create a ripple in either camp.  Whatever I did mattered little to either of them.  They had lands to lay barren, droughts to get on with, pestilence to get rolling.  ........ Other fish to fry.  Busy Spirits, one in charge of at least one Universe, the other apparently intent and focused on destroying it.  

I wonder sometimes ...... which one is in charge of which?

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

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


It is the political season.  I have done my best to switch off the noise. ....  to no avail.  I cannot deny my roots.  Political discussion was one of the staples of family dinner growing up.  I was taught to respect the process as it is the only game in town and any refusal to participate at least at the ballot box served me up just what I deserved.

Mom more than once while watching Huntley & Brinkley on NBC, " If they don't vote, they have no right to complain".

Dad would grunt his agreement and continue reading his paper, his book, his notes on the latest garden plan or Heathkit electronic gadget he was putting together.

So here we are a week or so from the Mid-term elections.  What to do?  Vote for an individual?  Vote my ideals?  Vote a straight party ticket?  Or vote as I have for at least the last 15 or 16 elections and cast my vote in defense.

I have always felt most comfortable in the middle.  Straddling that imaginary fence that divides Left from Right.  Held in low esteem by the lock n loaded believers on both sides during much of the year, yet come election time, both sides try to schmooze my vote from me by cranking back the hardline rhetoric they use most of the time.  Suddenly they become "moderates" and I am supposed to throw my straddlin the fence sad self on their side on the first Tuesday of November every other year.


Both the Democrats and the Republicans are responsible for whatever it is our country is now.  They share equally in my mind the good times and the bad times they have put us through.  ....................  At least up until the Right went off the deep end some years back and allowed the John Bircher-Koch mentality to hijack their message.   Because of their "I won't play unless we use my ball" mentality, I am voting against them from now on.  .......  Hmm ....... Actually I guess I started voting this way a couple of elections back.  Regardless, no Republican will get my vote.

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

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Better Dead Than Red

I did not pay as much attention I guess to the politics swirling around during the Vietnam era.  I was younger and dumber and totally self absorbed as so many late teen/early twenty somethings are.  In retrospect I have to say that the polarization at the rank and file level was as extreme as it it is today.  Maybe more extreme because Americans were dying at the hands of other Americans..  Anti-war/Civil Rights v. My country right or wrong mentalities.  Some crazy shit went down for sure.

One of the popular slogans that grew serious legs was "Better Dead than Red".  Originally thought up by John Bircher Right Wing alarmists during the Cold War of the 1950s, it was dragged back out  to bolster support for the Vietnam War.  It insinuated that should we give up on Vietnam, we would all fall under the Pinko Commie umbrella.  

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Ohio - Post Script

I have typed many words describing the drama, the comedy, and the hum drum of my first trip anywhere on an airplane since the mid 1990's.  There is a rather detailed and slightly twisted travel log wasting away in the draft section of this blog. .......................

After re-reading the blow by blow, I decided that posting it as it was would be akin to making the neighbors sit through all 300 slides of Jack, Diane and the kids having the time of their lives in the Disney-Six Flags- Harry Potter Universe.  Jack and Diane and the kids have seen all 300 slides five times before and they still can't wait to run through them again. The neighbors lassoed into sitting in uncomfortable chairs and smiling while tossing in the occasioanal Ooh or Aah  just to be polite.  They would rather have a pick stuck in their eye, .....  but hey,  what the Hell, Jack 's pouring drinks and Diane's keepin the chip bowl filled....................

Friday, October 10, 2014


Up until 6:00 AM yesterday morning, I had successfully avoided setting foot on an airplane of any kind since 1996 when I flew out to the Left Coast to deal with the death of my mother.  I was not and still am not afraid of flying.  I just hate the whole process.  A childhood spent logging untold passenger hours in the belly of an Air Force C-47, the Goony Bird, soured me early on the magic of flight.

Flying has always been a hassle, but I guess now, with all the stepped up security, sardine seating, and bags of peanuts that yield single digit numbers, Flying has entered a totally new dimension of travel Hell.  For the last decade I have listened to the horror stories.  Outwardly, I appeared sympathetic and full of "Gee that sucks" comments and all the while really thinking, "Better you than me".

I was beginning to believe I was going to hit the grave without having to fly ever again.  Right.......  As soon as my daughter found a job teaching at Xavier University in Cincinnati, my wife hatched plans to visit.  Being the dumass husband I am, I innocently agreed that we should head south as soon as we both could spare some time.  Little did I know, my darling significant other was scheming to make me take this trip via the friendly skies with some low cost, buy way ahead plane tickets from the masters of cattle car flying, Southwest Airlines.  Any dreams of reliving my truckin glory days with a spin on the super-slabs of America's Heartland were crushed before I could even begin wet dreaming them.

So yesterday at 3:35 AM, my wife and I climbed in the Ford Ranger and headed to the Manchester Airport to catch that cheap flight leaving for Cincinnati at 6:00 AM.

I have lived most of my life since my truckin days in my own time zone I call Crum Time.  As I hit Sam Page road at the end of the drive, I said, "Well, we seem to be gettin an early start."  BA just looked at me with that "you asshole" stare.  

"What?......... Look it's 3:30.......... "  The "you asshole" stare continued.  "Hey now, if we were on Crum Time we'd have 15 more minutes to start out late."  In my mind we were on time, even a tad early for my tastes.

"It's 3:35."

I didn't hear her.  I should have left well enough alone.  Instead I said, "What? I didn't hear you."

Louder now. "It is 3 fuckin thirty five.  I don't consider that early or even close to on time.  But I'm used to it now........... Just drive."

Oops.  Never tease a grumpy bear.

More to come...........................

PS - I am using an old laptop my wife gave me.  I has no mouse, just a swipe spot.  Between that and the new configuration the existing program displays, I have yet learned how to include images.  I had a good one, but well, better to publish now than lose the moment.

Saturday, October 04, 2014

Marking My Territory

As much trouble as it was to get hooked up to the inter webs tonight, once I plugged in, I felt an obligation to put pen to paper.  I need not say anything important or profound.  Just waste some bandwidth leaving a blaze out there in the WWW Wilderness.  Akin to to lifting my leg and marking this back wash of the "Net as mine................ not yours, not his, not even her's. .....................

Of course I could have done this with a tweet, an email, or an Internet Fax.  Tweeting I don't get.  Email's are so 1990's, and well, Faxes date back to at least the 80's, pre Grunge. ............... At my old shop I remember that big honking Fax machine that used to on occasion go manic and print out a ream of faxes in one night.  ........... Learned to hate that fuckin machine.  Kinda soured me on the whole Fax thing......... SO it's the BoZone or nothing.

I was listening to 'The Blimp", our classic rock station.  Seems there was a contest. Frickin Rock Stations always seem to be putting on some "be the 4th caller" trivia, name that tune from one word challenges.  Anyway, some lucky young listener won a real vinyl copy of some classic rock album.

"Hmm" ........... I thought.  "A vinyl record?" ............ I  smiled, .........  "Poor bastard.  Glad I missed out."

Like Twitter, I don't get the fascination with playing vinyl records.  Grew up playing 45 records on my Donald Duck record player.  Moved up the Audiphile ladder to own some of the nicest stereo equipment out at the time.  And even though I learned to treat records gently,  damn vinyl never stays pristine unless you don't lay a needle on it.

Give me the digital renditions.  Clean, precise, no snap crackle and pop.

I had hopes that while I was wasting bandwidth with meaningless dribble, I would have a mild epiphany and actually say something worth reading.  Apparently I was wrong.

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

Monday, September 29, 2014


It all began when I was trying to create an email to a sales rep.  A bike biz related communication with questions about some of the products this sales rep, uh .. well, ... repped. I was just getting started.  The introduction line explained in very general and obtuse ways what I was after.  I followed that with contact information, shop phone number and for the first time, I was going to share my personal cell phone number for bike biz purposes.

I realized as soon as I got past typing the area code, "207", I had nary a clue or even an inking of what my cell number was.  As I was not sure where I could find my cell phone number, on the phone or elsewhere, I gave it my best shot anyway.  I typed the next three numbers I thought of - "659" and then stopped.  I remembered I had wisely written my cell phone number on a piece of masking tape and stuck it to the back of said cell phone.  Now, all I had to do was locate my cell phone.

This all happened a few hours ago............ I stopped typing and went looking for my cell phone.  But like a child with serious ADHD leanings, I spotted one chore needing some attending to and when that was done, something else sparkled and drew me away from my original mission, finding my cell phone.  Enough time had passed that any notion of finding my cell phone had long ago exited the premises.  I only remembered the bike biz email when I came back into the office to make sure the computer was shut down.

The circle remains unbroken.  The circle my life has been as long as I can remember.  Leaving one task unfinished and then another, and another has been part and parcel of my character from the time I began to wear out real pants.  The words  "focus Mike, focus", pounded hard into my brain from an early age.  I know what the word means, I guess I just don't care to focus on it.


Friday, September 26, 2014

Mine Resistance

I recently was forced to upgrade the PC I use down to the bike shop.  New tower with all kinds of gigs, migs and cigs and almost the latest software from the jerks in Washington State.  Went with Windows 7 because well, that's what my wife told I was going with.  She's the boss.

I have yet to upgrade to the newer and supposedly better Windows 7 here at home, but I can see it coming. This old Acer is gimping along, but just barely.   Just about the time I feel comfortable with XP, now I have to dick around with new screens, icons, setups - dammitt.

Both Acer computers were at least 10 years old and had been upgraded, fixed, barely convinced to keep me connected to my business, my  relatives and of course you.  ........... It pisses me off that the computer makers and shakers build in such a short shelf life into their equipment.  Dammitt, spend a grand on a piece of equipment and by jeezuz it should last longer than 10 frickin years................

Anyway and before I get off on a tear and begin to rant about the planned obsolescence insidiously entwined into every aspect of our modern culture, I will just say that  I am immune to the "you gotta have it" pressures to upgrade.  The only pressure that works on me is when what I have quits.  Then I upgrade.

The militarization of the civilian police departments throughout this country bothers me tremendously.  Seems every chief of police wants what the military has.  Bigger bad ass intimidating weapons, storm trooper outfits and the obligatory polished black combat boots, trousers neatly tucked in the tops.  And jeezum, look at the damn vehicles that are showing up in back water burgs like Sanford, Maine.  Sanford is just down the road.  They roll the damn sidewalks up at dark.  Why the Hell do they need an assault vehicle with a gun turret on top?  Guess it's latest hip new thing in law enforcement.

They are called "Mine-resistant, ambush protected" vehicles or MRAP's  if you are inclined to use the hip police jargon.  These 13 ton behemouths are designed to be run by a crew of two with space in the belly of the beast for up to 8 bad ass gun totin cops ready and willin to jump into harm's way. .............

Hmm.  .......... Mine resistant?............... Ambush Protected??? ................  in Sanford, Maine????

You all have a super weekend.  Me, well, I'm gonna buy some bullets, Slim Jims, and a few cases of Gator Ade and hide in my basement.  Seems the local cops know something I don't.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

The Shot Glass

Okay.............................. Five years ago I had one lonely bottle of good sour mash aging in the cool depths of the lower cabinet in the front of the kitchen.  A quart of Rebel Yell I had purchased sometime back in the late 1980s.  It sat there, dust accumulating  on it's horizontal surfaces thick enough to hide the amber gold trapped within its glass walls.

Fast forward through and past the celebrations of the next millennium.  Zoom past the anger and pain of 9/11 and sometime around 2009 I found that bottle of Rebel Yell cooling its heels in the dark depths of the lower cabinet in the front of the kitchen ........ .................................. I had not allowed Demon Rum to pass my lips in at least 15 years, maybe 20........ Shit I dunno, it was a long time.

I pulled that bottle of Rebel Yell out of the lower cabinet in the front of the kitchen.  Tried to blow the dust off, but it laughed at me.  "  Bud, get an ice scraper fool, we be chillin long time."

So I got a rag, wet it down and wiped the dust off that quart of Rebel Yell, marveling at my good fortune, and savoring this gift from my well checkered past.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Another Day on the Planet

Two of my all time favorite Hollywood folks passed.  I fell in love with Lauren when I was a wee tacker.  It took "Good Morning Viet Nam" to show me the wacky brilliance that existed in Robin's mind............ I will miss them, but not their work.  It is forever captured on film for all of us to enjoy............ R.I.P.  Robin and Lauren.

Which brings me to "the Black Dog" as Winston Churchill called his episodes of Depression.  I suffer from Depression also.  It did not come on until I was fifty or so.  I refuse to ingest the chemical fixes pushed by the Healthcare Industry racket.  And while I have not found a cure, I am now able to identify the early symptoms of an upcoming visit to the pit.  Because of that, I have been able to control it to a degree I can live with.

What I cannot control are the reactions to my depression from the folks I interact with on a daily basis.  There is little sympathy or understanding.  Most if not all go automatic and tell me I need to see a doctor............ Fuck that.  I believe it was medicine I was prescribed in 2001 that turned mild depression into the nasty Hell I fall into now.  They can take their medicine and shove it ............. Americans place too much confidence in the AMA and their masters, the pharmaceutical industry.  I have had much better luck self prescribing.

Sunday, August 03, 2014

My Grounded Brother

It seems the noise from the Right is no longer focusing on specific issues they feel Obama has blown, screwed up, mismanaged, or just exhibited treasonous behavior sacrificing all that is near and dear to our collective hearts.  Apparently the rally, get em fired up dribble from the leadership of the Right, and not so bright boot-lickers of the GOP and their new masters, the Teabagging wackoes who work for the Koch Machine is now aimed at Impeachment.  They figure no matter what he has done or not done, whatever it is, it is probably an impeachable offense. That traitor has been illegally residing in our nations most sacred house these past seven years or so and playing us for fools and pissing all over our sacred Constitution.  The man is the most useless and evil President we have ever had.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Proud Dad Bullshit

Not sure why it took me so long to brag and puff out my chest here in the blogosphere.

No. I am puzzled why I did not rush here to post obnoxious Proud Dad bullshit..........  No really.  The BoZone was the perfect vehicle to ramble on and on about how my kid is now Dr Lis.  ........  Hmm.

Maybe it was the anticlimactic nature of it all.  Maybe I was just immune to more graduations, thesis panic, and the whining about how much of a bitch it is getting a PHD.......................

..........................  Truth be told, I have had nothing in the tank when I have the time to sit here and post.  Christ, it feels like when I was twenty something and burning my candles at every end they had.  The shop, the House, the riding, and of course my darling wife.  They all seem to suck more of my time than they used to.  Or is it that at 62,  I have to dedicate more time to get things done than I used to...................  don't know, don't care.  Life moves at whatever pace suits it.  Just know I'm tired and ready to pass out shortly after sundown most nights.

My little girl knew what she wanted to do when she was a sophomore in High School.  Holly, the AT (Athletic Trainer) at Berwick Academy, was Lis' inspiration.  A card carrying over achiever, Lis put her head down and got to work.  14 years later and she just signed up with Xavier University in the Queen City to pass on all that she has learned to the next generation of wannabe AT's.

I would love to take credit.  It would be nice to claim I was responsible for her success.  Can't do it.  It's all on her.  I just watched and offered the occasional shoulder to cry on.

Gotta respect a person who sets goals and no matter how long it takes, they reach them.  If they happen to be a daughter, son, or just the kid you helped get through some tough patch..................... well, step up Dad, Mom, Auntie Bee, Grandma Moses and even you Pa Kettle, be proud, be satisified that even if you didn't do much, you didn't get in the way .

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