Looking For the Good Fights

The USA does not have a great track record engaging in warfare in any conflict since WWll. World War II was the last war we won completely, decidedly, and without question. Many US soldiers died, many civilians sacrificed; it was the last war that had virtually no controversey swirlling around it. If it is possible to consider any war "good" or "worth the price", it would World War II.

WWll, and the "Great War" (WWl) before it along with the Civil War are the only wars that seemed inevitable that we would participate in. They were the "Good Fights". Any other armed comflicts we moseyed into was by choice. And those efforts didn't always go our way. Most were failures, half failures, or just colossal wastes of money, men and time.

I felt that for most of my life, my country has either been setting up to be in an armed conflict, embroiled in an armed conflict, or just exiting an armed conflict. We can't seem to go for more than a few years of Peace, before we start jonesing for that next bomb cratering, rubble creating military clash with some group we have designated as assholes with hostile intent.

Here is a current reminder of the armed combat we could have chosen to not participate in and been much better off for it:

• Korea - 3 Years, 1950 to 1953 - We could only save half of the country.
• Bay of Pigs Invasion/ Cuba - 1961 - We Lost.
• Vietnam - 1955 - 1975 (19+ years) - Cost 58,000 US lives. We lost.
• Invasiion of Grenada - October, 1983 - 8 Day conflict - 24 US soldiers died.
• Kidnap Daniel Noriega (president of Panama) - 5 weeks in 1989- 24 US lives - An effort to help win President Ronald Reagan and his ever faithful co-President, Namcy Reagan, their poorly concieved and poorly run War on Drugs. As it turns out, that war is still ongoing with no end in sight. It was a PR War failure for Reagan, but we did manage to bring Noriega back to the US to face charges. Meanwhile, some other loser stepped into Noriega's shoes and the drugs flowed like before.
• Operation Desert Storm - 2 months in 1991 - Fought by a coalition of countries; The US was by far the largest force at 697,000 fighting strength. 298 US deaths -We spent $61 billion dollars. The goal, remove Iraqi Forces after they invaded Kuwait. We won and got the Hell out of there. The conflict was a set-up to trap Saddam Hussein being stupid. Hussein stepped into our trap. At least we finished something for a change.
• Operation Gothic Serpent - 15months 1992-1993 - 19 US Soldiers dead. US Troops in Somalia were tasked with, well, I am still not sure what they were there for, really. All I remember is, it was ugly and American soldiers died for essentially no good reason. A great Anti-War Movie, "Black Hawk Down" was one result. But nothing good for the people of Somalia ever came of the 19 US lives sacrificed.
• Operation Iraqi Freedom - Includes combat in Afghanistan - 20 years - Almost 7800 US lives. Results are mixed. We did replace Saddam Hussien as leader of Iraq, but we caved finally and left Afghanistan after failing like every other country has who was stupid and over confident enough to think they had the answer.
• Trump's War on Iran - Feburary, 2026 to ? - Still limping along after 6 months. Still a mystery why Trump felt compelled to start a war with Iran. And not 2 weeks into this stupidity, Iran figured out they could own the Strait of Hormuz and stop much of the World's oil from reaching its destinations.The war was over at that point, yet Trump still does not get it. Too stupid too run a war in the first place; he is definitely too bullheaded stupid to admit defeat and pull out. Iran is definitely winning the war at this point. US Troop morale is in the shitter and our supplies of munitions are dangerously low.  And now we have worse than nothing to show for it.

There have other miscellaneous conflicts the United States found itself in the middle of as a support asset. US Men and materiel were spent in varying degrees of ugliness.

I was born in 1952. I am 74 now. If I add up the total number of years this country has been in conflict around the globe, the total would be north of 47 years or over 60% of the time I have been alive. The results have been underwhelming, given the outrageous costs in men, money and materiel.

I know war is good business. Nothing like a good conflict to keep those war factories churning out machines of death and making piles of money on armed conflict and the destruction that results. I know casulaties are part of the deal. But why? Why do we spend so much time, effort and money attempting to murder each other on such grand scales?

It is most definitely a good time to keep an even keel. Stay sharp. Stay Tuned In. ................

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I know I have used the original rendition of  Black Sabbath's, "War Pigs" with a post or two in the past. Well, that was then, this is now. But maybe this time I'll try to hustle up a good cover of it.

I tasted entirely too many versions of "War Pigs". Lost at least an hour checking out all the different renderings of this early Metal classic. I came back to my favorite Busking alternative band, The Big Push. Ren and his boys rock hard. Enjoy.

And because the song that followed War Pigs was their version of Sting's, "An Englishman in New York", it is now another two-fer post.

Head Thumpin Monks Revisited

I originally wrote this post in November of 2009, a year after Obama won his first term.The Tea Party had been rattling their odeological cages, gas lighting, lying, and finding conspiracies where there were none.

The big claim - Obama was not born in the USA. It was a very popular Bull Shit story. The folks who pushed this were called "Birthers". And who lead their Charge?........ That's right the moron who has been screwing us over the last 10 years at the least.

When I re-read this post I was not surprised how much hasn't changed. I was surprised at just how successful the MAGA movement has been at ruining our country. Anyway, here is what I was thinking on Nov. 21, 2009. Things have not only not changed, things have gotten worse.

<~>

I began a serious rant aimed squarely at the recent Right Wing hijinks and foolishness. Yes it was a scathing attack. No holds barred. Take no prisoners. No quarter given. Worked myself into a frenzy, almost becoming that which I was raging against.

I was hitting all the convenient targets of opportunity - Sarah, Glenn, the holier than thou but hopelessly brain dead Michele Bachmann, Fox Spews, and just to make sure or round out my efforts, a few below the belt shots at Hannity and O'Reilly just for the Hell of it.

Teabaggers were up front taking pies in the face. Bible thumping homophobes were getting drippy chins as I squatted and scathingly dipped my sack of condemnation and insults on their ever eager blank angry faces.

 could only hold back so long when faced with this non stop parade of hateful fools leading with their chins. And I felt no shame at hurling insults and epithets and other scurrilous mutterings in their general direction. They deserved my derision, my disrespect. It was time I gave back what I have been taking for 29 years. They want to hate me. Fine. It was time I hated back.

Because I had had it. I could only be even tempered for so long and shine on the hate and disrespect all of them seem to have for my personal ideals while I tried to respect theirs. I was tired of being accused of being a traitorous loser who hates America and wants Islamic assholes and Commies to take over because I happen to like the man who occupies the Oval Office. I was tired of the hateful mean shit these jerks have been spewing from mouths filled with tobacco juice and holy water. I was tired of hearing how important guns are to my freedom. Get a damn clue you idiots. I do not need a gun to be free. Freedom is not had at the end of a gun. Freedom is not taken away at the end of a gun. The only way you can lose your freedom is when you give it away. Freedom is a frame of mind and you boneheads have no clue what that means.

But you know what? After furiously pounding out my anger and dripping gallons of mean sweat on the keys of this keyboard, I felt better. So I decided I wouldn't say those things. I had purged my hate and was now once again going with the flow. Just chillin while a contented smile came over my face. 

Instead of laying into the dim wits of the Right, I offer instead, this short but to the point Monty Python clip. In 30 seconds or so you will know how I view the fools who wrap themselves in scripture, conspiracy theories and would turn us into a repressive theocracy and think they are doing us a favor.

Enjoy.

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A Seinfeld Post

It was music and a daily suggestion greeting me on my computer the other day that broke the Facebook silence I have been enjoying most of this month. A Bobby McFerrin pop hit from way back in someone's day and now lost in the current lexicon of music that sold out to the Man; well, it popped up somehow from somewhere, maybe on the TV,  the radio or just came to mind. 

Hmm.......

If truth be told or not, I am feeling a stream of consciousness day coming into view. Go with the flow, no matter where it came from or where it is set to go. Just latch on with a firm grip and enjoy the fucking ride; Or not; or maybe, do whatever blows my dress up. For you see, I have nothing better to do than ignore that bothersome and nagging list of honey do, honey don't duties that exist on some honey's list I never read, met nor wanted to. 

It all depends on the type of day I want, a productive one or an introspective deep dive into the swamp of mindless goo that swirls in and out with the tide in my mind....... Whew! 

Not making sense is harder than it looks. The hard earned lessons of the many grammar nazis in my past, make it difficult for me to write wild like I used to. I have to think about it, not just feel it; all because I now anguish over composition dos and don'ts more than seems sane.; or fun for that matter. ....... 

Fun. ..... What is fun? A cover all word that covers participating in anything we enjoy doing; whether it be toil ending productivily or just ending with grins. Fun is what we make of it, do to it, do with it. If it brings Joy, do it as much as possible, even if that Joy in the end, makes us sad.

Sadness can rock too. Sadness can purge the stockpile of petty concerns that haunt us everyday. Or it can make them worse. It seems we need both, sadness and joy. Well, it does appear we can't have one without a regular dose of the other. The trick I guess is to look for one and accept the other. They both helped make us what we have become. ..........

What we have become? A matter of perception I imagine. I have only my own view of what I have become, by mindless reflection of what I have done, not done, thought about getting done, thought about not getting done, and what I vowed I would never get done and to date still have yet to get done. What the "collective we" have become is what we always become; a loose consortium of good actors, bad actors; actors who help others and actors who exploit others. Something tells me no matter what system of disorganization we conjour up, those realities will always hold true. They are embedded in our cultural DNA, cast in stone by eras and ages of treating each other like shit.

Which makes me wonder, just how the Hell did we make it this far? The future seems sketchy at best given how comfortabe humanity seems living on all these precipices and lines we should never cross. And because we can't help ourselves, we always settle where the flow leaves us. Somehow we come out of the self inflicted madness smelling like roses. .............

After protracted and tortuous times being our own worst enemies, I expect we will again come out into the daylight and there will be no roses to smell. Odds seem to get shorter, the longer they are in play.

It might be a good idea to start paying attention to what we are doing to ourselves.

< ~ >

I wrote this post in one big breath; no paragraphing, no spell checking ( mine is broken anyway), no thought given to any theme of any kind. Yeah, it was a big rambling chunk of words, that once I took that breath and re-read my jibberish, I couldn't stand it. I could feel the long dead grammar nazis from my past hanging over my shoulder, breathing hot and sweaty condemnations in both ears about the Hell I would endure in Grammier Hell, as I would be tasked to diagram every sentence in the US Constitution. ...... Over n over. ( It was the History nuts who threw in the clause about the Constitution. )

I decided I had to clean it up some; tossed in some paragraphs; tossed in some minimal spell checking, and shifted around some commas and periods; came up with the catchy title, "A Seinfeld Post" and voila! I was finally done.

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

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Hang in............. I have abruptly been blocked from the stream that flowed so furiously only minutes ago. ............  Finally, I picked a tune, came up with a title collage that took almost as much time as the damn post. ....... 

"Child in Time" - Deep Purple - First released 1970 - AI enhanced music video - Recently released or close to it.

Cheer Up, Buttercup

Today has been designated as the "International Day of Happiness". If all things were equal, this day might be on everyone's agenda, put a smile on everyone's face, and  allow every dog to have their day. But things are not equal, not by a longshot.

Finding Happiness would be a logical gold standard to reach for. Sadly, for what appears to be the situation for many of the planet's inhabitants, Happiness falls way behind Survival on the daily bucket list most folks haul around with them, day in, day out.

It is nice that there are folks who want to remind us to be happy, even if our world is in the shitter. With slogans like, "It could be worse" , "Every cloud has a silver lining", or the one I hate the most, "Everything will be okay"; all of them can make whatever misery one is dealing with, that much worse. 

I understand the urge to try to help someone, some group, some anyone, any critter feel some optimism in a world bereft of much to be optimistic about. Compassion and empathy are tops on my list of postive traits in anyone. But hearing anyone tell me "Everything will be okay" is lip service; empty words that have nothing to back them up with, except Hope. 

The real goal is often to just make themselves feel better by telling some poor slob they percieve as being worse off to buck up, better days are ahead. I did just that myself a few days ago when I handed a homeless guy a twenty dollar bill. It made me feel good to do that. The guy's situation ran second billing to my personal gratification. 

Tell one of the amost billion people on the planet living on $3.00 a day, "Everything will be okay" and see their reaction. Tell the almost 30 million people who are victims of of Human Trafficking, Cheer Up Buttecup, you could be dead instead". I am sure that would make them smile. Tell the billions of women suffering under the sliding scale of systemic Patriarhcal Brutality, "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger". They might openly agree, but curse your soul under their breath.

It's nice when folks who don't deal with true sufferring remind us to be happy. But who are they really talking to, us or themselves?

"Don't Worry Be Happy .........................

__________________________

Contrary to my above post, I am a believer that finding Happiness should be everyone's goal. It is too bad the process is buried beneath the dire real world needs for so many folks around the planet. Here is the famous Bobby McFerrin tune, "Don't Worry, Be Happy" performed by mostly chidren from around the globe as part of the wonderful collection of music known as "Playing for Change".

It made me smile. Maybe it will pick your day up also.

Women and Men ~ Boys and Girls

As much complaining, grouching and bad mouthing our two genders waste on each other, one might get the impression that women and men often think they would be better off without the other. The only thing they tend to agree on some of the time is in bed, mutually hip slapping in order to keep the species chock full of participants. And since there are so many humans crammed onto this planet, one could also conclude, the two sexes get along much better than they like to let on.

Even with many exceptions of notable murderous and devious events, men and women have been putting up with each other forever. Their connections run deeper than procreation and survival in general.. In order to survive in the best possible way, they found grouping together was smarter than not. Each gender developed a role that contributed to the group; hunter or gatherer, fabricator or couch potato with a beer in their hand. Humans found that for every role, another role was needed to support or counter the stupidity the other role was using. 

And what happened then? The two of us began to take small pleasures in each other's company. Connections not based on survival found their way into our brain's societal DNA. Eventually, many of us found contentment sharing small agreeable gestures. Tolerance evolved into acceptance; or maybe call it, resignation with a smile, a smirk, a corner or two of our lips lifted.

In my mind, a world with only one sex would be one of the many Hells I often conjure up. Whether or not women think they can roll alone, I need women in my life and really, they need men in theirs.  After all, who else would they have to laugh at; themselves? That would surely be their own Hell.

And men who think their gender can exist solo. They just fool themselves. Besides the obvious biological hurdle, our gender is just not that smart. We wouldn't be around long enough to create our own Hell.

Free Will and the Ladies are what make my world go 'round. ..........................

________________

I had the song for this post picked out by the second paragraph. A song about tolerance mixed with love. Here is John Prine and Iris DeMent with "In Spite of Ourselves". Yeah, John was a great  lyricist for sure. 

Tonk

I am already second guessing my decision to re-up my participation in the social media of America. I have only been back, what, a week or so? I had crawled into the shell I have always kept around when times were tough. It goes back to the days I needed to escape the alcohol infused dog fights my parents engaged in during the family's transition from a military life to the less structured life of the civilian world.

I know I won't escape; not entirely. I may have a chance, given enough time, to delude myself that the madness swirling around my small corner of Maine is nothing but a poorly contrived reality show. But that delusion is nothing but one delusion compounded into another. I'm not insane, though sometimes I like to delude myself I am. ...... Anyway, moving on now..........

This morning as I sipped some Yesterday Coffee, I half listened to the news folks droning on about the latest assholery foisted on us by Trump and his band of Brownshirts. My ears caught these words:

 The Sound a Flashight Makes When it Hits the Head of an Illegal

This perked me up; made me curious what that sound was called. My aging ears or lack of attention had missed that part. The definition of something without a name is unacceptable. I immediately snatched up my coffee and shuffled my way to what I call my office. I punched up the computer and spent some minutes determining the name the statement was referring to.

Apparently the sound is called a "Tonk". No one is exactly sure who created it, but we do know where it became popular. Years ago it popped up in the colloquial group lingo of the US Border Patrol and more recently embraced by the ICE thugs. It is so popular among them and their brain dead supporters that a T shirt was offered for sale. The term is also obnoxious enough that it is banned from use by those same agents. I am sure they, being the true professionals they are, strictly follow that rule. I mean look at the high level of competence they use when rounding up those damn furriners who want to eat our pets and rape our children.

Hmm ...........

This is what we have allowed our country to turn into. When the Trump Goons finish gathering up hapless folks from away, who is next? Well, it would seem to me their next targets would be any US citizen that looks at them sidewise................ Um, oh yeah, they have already begun that part........ Nevermind.

____________________

I might be getting paranoid, or maybe just more paranoid, but I think Google and YouTube are no longer guessing what is on my mind, they know before I even punch them up what I want. Nevermind Artificial Intelligence. What we have today is worse. It's Evil Intelligence and it is being packaged and sold as Artificial Intelligence. ........... Anyway the song that was staring me in the face when I opened YouTube was this song from John Prine, "This is How Every Empire Falls". Recorded in 2005, its message is still applicable today. I am including the lyrics because John had a wonderful way with them.

John Prine's music hit me in the gut over 50 years ago. It seems he is still doing it from his grave. I did not know this song until YouTube threw it in my face. And yeah, it made me tear up.

Unreasonable Anxiety

The world beyond my small patch here in southern Maine is involved in the most upheaval, hate, anxiety, and discontent I can remember since the 1960s. Just like today, bad news seemed to land on our doorstep every day. The Bomb, Segregation, Assasinations, the War in Vietnam; there was always some major ugliness to deal with; some horrible circumstances that affected our lives directly. Many Americans felt totally powerless as they watched their country go to war with itself.

I feel the same kind of helplessness now, 60 years later. Just like then, I have moved from incredibility to SSDD. The Hate and Discontent still lingers though; never far from the surface I guess. 

Okay.  I tell myself:

"Move along asshole, you have chores to do. You have this to consider, that to accomplish."

 So I move along, all the while in the back of my mind, I still worry about things I have no control over.

Eventually, I will reach a limit and shut down. My shutdowns don't usually last very long; a couple of days, maybe a week, and occasionally longer. When I was a working man, I kept the essential parts of my life going. Now that I am retired, well, shutdowns for me can mean total withdrawals from almost all interactions with the world beyond my dooryard. My concern is, the times of normality are becoming fewer and further between the moments of unreasonable anxiety.

I make no apologies. I am not looking for sympathy. Just relating how it is for me now as I struggle to understand my place in a world that has once again, gone insane.

When I consider my situation and begin to wallow in the worst parts of it, I realize that I am nothing but a sniveling whiner who has had up to now, lived a life many people would have loved to have. I had to deal with trauma, and loss as kid. But not much trauma and loss. I have never been hungry; at least not in the swollen belly, haven't eaten in weeks type hungry. I have always had a roof to sleep under if I wanted it. And I have enjoyed a small circle of good friends and family who had my back when I needed it. The basics of my life have always been covered. Many folks on this planet don't even have that. 

For the most part, Life has been a breeze for me. I am one lucky sumbitch. For so many others, Life has definitely not been a breeze. Maybe I should feel guilty, but well, I often fall back on the tried but true Life lesson, "Life is not Fair". As soon as I do, the guilt comes back.

Now that I am on the downstroke, over the hill, looking towards the end, I no longer fear for myself and what might happen to me. My fears have now shifted to the future my daughter and everyone else will face twenty years from now. Where are we headed? What the Fuck are we doing about facing what might be in the future? From all the indications I am witnessing at the moment, the vision of the future I scare up is more often than not, a very dark future.

( Picture me shaking my head as I realize that what I just wrote is not what I intended to write)

I will leave this bummer of post right here and get on with my day. I do feel better though.

Later Gators ....................................

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I made finding a tune that fit the Blues I felt this morning much harder than it should have been. The post above came out of nowhere. There was no good reason to feel so down in the mouth. I had a great dream last night. I frolicked with friends next to a body of water, some times it was a stream, somethines it was a lake or pond. I rode down impossible trails and caught a humongous fish I could not identify. 

Why then, when I woke up did I feel so off. I had good news from by the doc after having my colon checked out. And just the other night I cooked a chicken and gravy meal and absolutely nailed the gravy. It was awesome. I really do not have a right to piss and moan.

I finally gave up the search and returned with my go to my favorite song about feeling down. I have used it before and will use it today. Most likely I will use it again. Here is David Bromberg with "Someone Else's Blues".

Gotta Be Tough to Grow Old

I listened to a Blues tune the other day. "You Gotta be Tough to Grow Old", by Old Old Joe dovetails well with what I perceive as the lifestyle I find myself in today. 

At age 73, I know I won't survive getting old. None of us do. I also know it was I who created the situations and most health issues with my previous life choices and career paths. I will say, I did last 25 years longer than some of my high school peers thought I would.

I have come to terms with how uncomfortable growing old is. Now I just shake my head when I remember how surprised I was in the first place. Over the years, I had more than a few cases of aging play out in front of me. I chose to shrug off my certain future of dealing with many of the same ailments and indignities that come with getting older.

Denial runs strong in the Human Race. We love ignoring the unpleasantness we know we are probably headed for down the road. It is part and parcel of the idea to live for today and fuck tomorrow. I have been a lifelong adherent to that notion, that's for sure. Now I am beginning to reap the rewards for my careless disregard for sane living.

I pushed many limits. Crossed many also. That I am here today writing something resembling coherent thought still surprises me every time I do it. And therein lies the secret I guess; the secret of being content and accepting the results of what I sowed so many years ago. I have no complaints. Any extra time I get now is icing on my cake.

You gotta be tough to grow old or lucky or maybe blessed. It seems that successfully growing old takes some tolerance and backbone........ Maybe more than I can muster................. We'll see.

Later Gators .......................

_______________________

DOG

I am making a token BoZone appearance today, this last day of August, 2025. 

I needed a break. I had no plan for how I would waste this break; no rhyme or reason other than the obvious one that Life sucks for more folks than seems reasonable or called for. 

It is as if the various tribes and groups that comprise the planet's population feel the need to make others unlike themselves more miserable than themselves in order to find their warm and fuzzy happy place. 

In the scheme of the worldwide distribution of hate, discontent, and misery, my recent self indulgent dose of it is but a miniscule drop in a vast ocean of misery borne by the un-famous, the not so rich, the lesser lowly folks who make up 90 percent of the world's population. I am indeed much more blessed than most, yet I often don't feel that way.

I have come to the conclusion that the only people who are happy are the assholes who are jumping for joy as they liberally spread their hateful ugliness like it was a blessing on the rest of us.

But today I decided to to take a break from the simmering pot of miserable I seemed to enjoy wallowing in. A reasonable man might conclude I was loving Life in the doldrums, sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and cheering on the misery and discontent being shoved down all our throats by morally bereft, vindictive psychopaths full of imaginary righteous indignation, like we are the problem, not them.

I did not mean to share my dip into the pit where Depression resides. No, I was just going to write a let's get acquainted again post about my dog, Maggie. It would have been just another I love my dog post I am sure; safely non confrontational without any self pity.

Seems I blew it.

So let me quietly go away until such time I can return with either joy or fierce criticisms, whichever one blows my dress up at the time.

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

___________________________

My post may have lost track of its point before it began, but at least the musical part of the post can stay on topic. Here is a great song by Charlie Parr. It is called "Dog".

"My old man's soul in this old dog's coat"

Dark Corner

Been gone awhile. There is no specific reason other than being completely disgusted with Americans and what they have allowed to happen in recent years. Tired of the insanity I guess.

Anyway, here is a tune from a group I had never heard of until I heard them while watching the twisted SciFi series "CowBoy BeBop" on Netflix. If you have ever read Old Skool Sci/Fi pulp from the 1950s and 60s, this series will feel familiar. It's a hoot. The real star of the series though is the music. It is awesome.

Okay. The ice has finally been broken ....... again. When I step back from this blog, it is always because something is not right , something is askew, Life is too uneven, too off keel for me.

I withdraw, retire to the internal sanctuary I created as a child when family dysfunctions became too much; too ugly; too dark. My remedies were many; marathon reading and hours spent creating my own worlds. Staying outside until hunger or the dark forced me back in the house. Building a wall with childhood diversions, dreams, and what ifs until my anger or fear of the current family upheaval dissipated.

Beginning to write again is a sign another dark corner has been successfully turned. The dark corner returns to idle mode and patiently waits for me to face it again. The corner is not concerned if I will face it again. It knows I will always come up against it again; I always have. A kind of Yin and Yang cycle I guess. ............ There needs to be balance. It is a constant struggle.

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

___________________________

Here is "Too Good Too Bad", by The Seatbelts ...................... If you like horns, you just might like this.

Can't Take It Anymore

Okay I just can't take it anymore. I have been biting my tongue and resisting political rants since I came back from that two month vacation I took from the social media jungle after the last election. I have to make some comments or I'll explode. The political me is just entirely too powerful for me to keep a total lid on it any longer.

In my attempt to keep politics at bay, I stopped reading, watching or listening to the news for the most part. That isn't working either. We have the biggest accident unfolding in my lifetime and I am telling myself to drive by it without looking? Not a chance. Not an option. For better or worse and fuck my sanity, I have to involve my mind again and not the paltry flirtations I have been using lately. I will however, do my best to not let it get out of hand like it did in the run up to the November 5 election last year.

So where and how do I start and still maintain control?

Finding that sweet spot is my quest. Reaching a balance between my version of personal peace and my version of over the top mania is going to be a tough job. For most of my life I have been struggling with mild form of Manic Depression. I really enjoy the mania usually, but always hate the depression.

To help temper my bad attitude about the current state of affairs the USA finds itself in, I offer up this funny meme from the past. It won't change anything. It might just make us laugh every time we use one of these very creative nicknames the Scots created for our pleasure. Pick one, pick them all, but be my guest, use them at all times. My favorite is "shit-spackled muppet fart"..... It kinda rolls off the tongue.

Regardless, I have an itch I have been trying to ignore for several months. Can't do it any longer. Holding it in is no longer an option.

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

____________________________

I googled "Anti-Trump Songs" and tasted roughly 30 of the ones offered. The videos were sometimes professional productions and many were just Grandma or Grandpa singing a first song on the Internet. The genres were everything from Hip Hop/Rap, Punk, Country, Metal, Rock and Folk.

I settled on a Rap tune from a 16 year old kid who recorded this 8 years ago during the first Trump Occupation, Here is The Real Red Wolf rapping his first video. Damn good effort.  

Idealism

Idealism gets a bad rap. I don't understand why. It seems humans love to focus on what is wrong now, what went wrong in the past, and what will surely go wrong in the future. And the whole while they forget or resist to infuse a little hope into their outlooks just to balance things out. Without some brightness, we continue to live in the dark.

Idealism is a natural extension of Hope. It is the next step from dreaming to making that dream a reality. If we ever hope to rectify old wrongs and prevent future sorrows, Idealism is an integral part of the process. Yet, Idealism is often frowned upon, deemed impractical in the Real World. But without the idealistic notion that there has to be something better around the next corner, Humans would be in a much harsher world of hurt. 

Today, we vote. Today, the stark differences between the two political sides is unmistakable and has been since one man forced his way into our body politic almost ten years ago.. He has offered us nothing but doom and gloom scenarios, telling us our country is a garbage pit, that some of our citizens are our enemies, and generally pitting us against each other over issues that should not even matter: Race, Religion, Education, Gender Issues and Sexual Orientation issues should not even be part of our conversations, yet the Orange man has managed to make those issues all many of us think about.

None of those topics should matter in the scheme of running a country. Running a country should be about fixing shit, not tearing it down. That's what today's and future elections should be about. 

Those are the bare bones of my political views. Everything I want for Me, for my Family, for my Country, for my World is about fighting off the dark to let in the light. Idealism I feel, is the only way to begin that process. Without Hope, we become nothing but a population waiting to die.

So, I will head down to the Acton Town Hall today and vote. It is the least I can do to help reconnect us to Hope and then put some positive Idealism into action. Hopefully Y'all will foilow suit.

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

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I figured an old favorite would fit my post today. Here is Bob Marley & the Wailers with their iconic anthem, "Get Up, Stand Up".

And Yes, sometimes Idealism means getting into a fight.

The Man in the Tree Re-Visited

A seven year old image I posted on Facebook crossed my page a few days ago. No need to describe it. You can see it right there on the left. The accidental visage that appeared on this trunk gave him his name, "The Man in the Tree". It took 30 plus years for him to reveal himself to me, but he finally did.

A man of few words, our conversations were decidedly one sided; his response usually just a branch swaying or a hiss as he used the wind to convey his feelings. Regardless, he and I have had more than a few conversations over the years. His steady calm demeanor have more than a few times helped me to calm myself, regain some perspective as I shed anxiety over any current stupidity I might have been experiencing. A relief valve I guess. Yes, a relief valve.

I first met the future Man in the Tree when he was just a two inch sapling in the late 1960's. No one knew exactly what species he was as the previous owner of the house had planted him shortly before they decided to sell the house. Based on the flowers that would eventually grace our dooryard, we called it a Weeping Cherry.

The image to the right is one of the last decent flowerings the Old Man put out. Not sure, but I think it was maybe from the same year the above image was taken.

Being of a fruit variety, the tree has always had issues with some rot. It was only in the last decade the rot began to cause limbs to fall and bark to fall off, leaving deep cavities that seemed to go right to its core. And last year an invasive climbing vine found it and really did some damage.

I plan to attempt to clean it up with a dim hope of saving it. If nothing else, I am going to attempt to propagate some of the many suckers it produces every year.

I am bringing up the Man in the Tree because like him, I have had a tough few years recently. Though both of us are hanging in there, I seem or might be turning a corner for the better. If I am, I hope to bring the Man in the Tree with me. ...................... We'll see.

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

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I immediately thought of a tune on one of Fleetwood Mac's under appreciated albums, titled "Bare Trees". It came out during the period when they were evolving out of a blues band and into a pop band. Though I loved their music when they played blues, I accepted their inevitable metamorphosis from ugly blues larva into their reimagined Pop Music butterfly. Anyway here is Fleetwood Mac's title track from their their sixth album released in 1972. Here is "Bare Trees".

He, Who Shall Remain Un-named

I have recently been trying to refrain from posting anything specifically about politics. I can feel I am probably close to my breaking point. As evidence, I am now mentioning that I am trying to not write about the political circus unfolding outside the confines of my little acre of Sanity here in southern Maine. I will do my best with this post to at least, not mention by name, the one politician who has me and many, many millions of other Americans totally fed up with his lies, his criminality, his misogyny, his word salads, and are really tired of his ugly mug on TV every time we turn the damn things on. 

One can only watch so many "Leave it to Beaver", "Perry Mason", and "Have gun, Will Travel" re-runs. At some point I have to come up for air and there he is, still right in my face with his drooling knuckle dragging Cultists hanging on every idiotic word that spews from his pie hole.

 

Over the past 9 years when he first slithered and slimed his way into the politics of mainstream America, my first reaction was laughter. What a clown, I thought, what a buffoon. No way America would be be stupid enough to allow this guy anywhere near 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC.

My laughter died when I realized that yes, there were enough gullible idiots in this country who had no problem with him and his sleazy con man chicanery that he was able to sneak in and squat behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office for the next 4 years. Okay, I thought, this was an aberration. Surely America would wise up for the next election and vote him out. 

I was right. We did vote the flim flaming asshole out. But  he didn't go quietly. Instead, he fired up his traitorous citizen army and they tried to overthrow the election and the country. Unapologetic, this self serving traitor doubled down and continued to punish America for the next 4 years with his stupidity, hate and discontent. We watched as he tried to steer our ship towards the rocks and tear us down in order to remake this country into the totalitarian paradise he has had wet dreams about for so many years. He failed but not before he caused real damage to our way of of life and our national soul. 

Hmm..........................

I sit here close to my boiling point again and wonder if his presence in my life is punishment for some misdeed or slight I may have had a part in far back in my checkered past. Did I insult Karma at some point? Or is it that America did?

All I can figure now is we deserve this man in our lives. We allowed him to poison our culture, bad mouth our cherished institutions, people and tenets that comprise the core of our national soul.

And now, 9 years after he first polluted the political landscape, he is still here spewing his inciteful gibberish and keeping the cups of of hate and discontent overflowing. We have a chance to put him down and I hope we do. But sadly the slime and shit stains he will leave behind will be with us for a long time. 

Good Job America. Way to go. Look what we have done to ourselves.

Later gators ..................................... 

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My choice for a tune comes from Tracy Chapman with her song "America". I am including the lyrics. I feel  they fit quite well with this post.

The Enemy is Us

It bothers me we humans waste so much time, money and focus on the petty, the "never should have been a problem" problems, all the while ignoring or worse, denying the more than likely Humanity Ending calamities heading our way.

Maybe there is nothing we can do about the climatic tragedies, the over grazing, and out of control polluting. But then maybe we can. To not try harder to mitigate the upcoming damage is giving up. Status quo token efforts just won't do. We either go all in with our attempts to save what we have or we are done. It is no longer if, but when. The window to affect any change is closing at a faster rate than ever before. 

What do humans focus on while they exploit the planet to the point when the planet can no longer support our stupidity?  Their focus is on what can they buy that will help them stay erect, what can erase those lines etched in their faces and surely losing one's hair is more of a crisis than watching a desert grow where trees once stood. 

Based on our self-infatuated lifestyles, we know there are more important issues than saving the Race. Besides, we have plenty of time. And BTW, short term goals always upstage long term planning. Living for now is so much more important and easier than living with our children's futures in mind. Leave them lots of money if we can, the only plan. Besides the price we might pay for our efforts now will probably be painful. And we all know pain sucks. And besides, we have plenty of time.

The politics of saving ourselves should not be complicated. The problem is not complicated; the solutions are. Yet, the opposing sides of this issue would rather waste their energies pissing on each other's feet than pulling together to meet the biggest challenge we will ever face. 

One side wants to continue our reliance on old polluting technologies and keep their heads shoved up deep into their respective asses using denials and yo momma, fuck you, we don't care policies. Their opposites wring their hands and while supporting efforts to change, their worries about the inconveniences and disruptions to their pampered lives make them hesitant. And besides, there's plenty of time left.

Pointing fingers at everyone else without calling out my own planet saving efforts or lack thereof would be disingenuous. And while I often get on my high horse and look down my nose at the careless and ignorant people who have no clue or feel no need, no obligation to help us save ourselves, .... I have some cred, but I could and should do more, give more, and put a bigger dent in my personal carbon footprint. There is always room for improvement.

Is there plenty of time left? .......................... We'll see.

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

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The song for the post I found well before I finished writing the post. I was listening to a YouTube Blues compilation. I think the song is a cover of Lightening Hopkins, "One Eyed Woman". It is performed by Gary BB Coleman who used to back up Hopkins near the end of his career. Pour yourself a shot or two of sour mash before you punch it up.

 

Regarding Organized Religion and LSD

Yesterday morning while I was having a late breakfast, a large Jehovah Witness accompanied by a much smaller Jehovah Witness knocked on my front door. I opened the door. I forget the large Jehovah's name, but the cute little Jehovah in the summer dress was named Maddie. Maggie our dog was right there, as she always is, ready to greet strangers, thieves and other lowlifes with her tail wagging and a smile on her mug. 

Maddie seemed intimidated at first, but she relaxed as I listened to, I am guessing here, her father's latest twist on God. Large Jehovah and I exchanged niceties. He asked me, and I paraphrase:

"What do you think of all the suffering around the World?"

A serious question for sure. Because I was feeling friendly, I searched for an answer that would not come across as mean or dismissive.

"To suffer seems an integral part of the Human Condition."

I wanted to say more, but he just looked at me and handed me the pamphlet. It was not the full blown issue of "The Watchtower" they usually distribute.

"We'd love to see you in church."

We shook hands and he and his mini cohort left.

Anyone who has known me for any time at all knows I hate organized religion, especially organized religions who would force their way into my life through Theocratic rule, like the Taliban, Isis, but most of all, the homegrown Christian Nationalists who are intent on totally fucking up what America has worked so hard to build.

Knowing this, it would not be much of a leap of logic to assume I hate Jehovah Witnesses. I don't hate the Witnesses. Yeah, they knock on my door at least once a summer, sometimes more. They hand me copies of "Watchtower", bend my ear for a few moments and then leave me to return to happily wallow in my heathen squalor.

Jehovah Witnesses are not political. As a matter of church doctrine, politics is not on their agenda. They only recognize "God's Kingdom" and cannot be bothered by the petty, selfish activities that swirl around them as they devote their lives to their god. They rely on face to face persuasion to bring more of us infidels into their flock. Compare that to what the Christian Nationalists will jam down our throats should they have the power. No contest, the Witnesses are hands down, how an organized religion should carry itself. Leave the politics home.

I can co-exist with any religion that does not interfere in my own vison of pursuing happiness.

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

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I have had trouble finding tunes I like about or referencing religion in some way. I decided today I would find something else, maybe a reminder of times past when I was in my LSD phase. I was sure I saw God that night.

I was first introduced to Jimi Hendrix's take on "All along the Watchtower", during Easter Break, 1968. I was in military school in southern Maryland and my family had moved to Maine by then. I spent Easter Break with Snake and his grandparents in Bethesda, Maryland, my old neighborhood. 

Snake and I were new to LSD. We had only a few trips under our belts at the time. We scored a bunch of Orange Barrels. The guy we bought the hits from warned us to be careful. He advised we split one hit and see how it goes.

Being overconfident noobs, we mishandled our dosages; badly mishandled our dosages. We had been swallowing LSD for a few weeks by then and decided we knew what we could handle. We did not respect the potency of the Acid we had bought. We each ate one barrel, waited maybe 20 minutes and convinced ourselves we weren't "getting off" (feeling it), so we each ate another Orange Barrel.

By this time we had retired to Snake's basement, which was his room. He put on "Electric Ladyland". That was the last thing I really remember well until 12 or 13 hours later when we came out of it. "Electric Ladyland" was still playing. I was sure that night, Hendrix had been sent by God. And I was positive LSD was God's gift to the World.

As it turned out, it wasn't God. It was too many mics of LSD.

So here is Jimi's version of Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower". To this day I am sure it is the greatest version that will ever be. I know, I listened to it all night long that night in the summer of 1968.

Made My Day

A few nights ago, I mixed it up with some Anal Retentive Right Wingers, Clueless Trump Pingers, and Bible Thumping Condemnation Swingers on a political group page on Facebook. Waged war with them till past midnight. Felt good to purge and direct my anger and frustration towards the folks I find the most fault with. It gets tiring always preaching to the choir.

Woke up the next morning with over 25 nasty comments waiting patiently for me to address them. I replied to some, skipped some and laughed at some.

Put a smile on my face first thing. Been awhile since I really slugged it out.

My learning curve for doing battle with internet personalities began back in the Newsgroup days of the 128 kbps Internet in the1990s. It could take many minutes just to to trade a couple of insults.

From there, it was forums; political, bicycle, and regional. I had some of my most memorable times poking fun at the insanity of a "The South Shall Rise Again" forum. From there I found "Free Republic", a forum in which many future Tea Baggers and later MAGA-lites were created.

My time mixing it up with Freepers was too short. "Free Republic" did not tolerate opposing views. I think I lasted a week before I was kicked out and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. I was in pig heaven duking it out daily with brain dead Freepers. Being kicked out put my worst inclinations on hold: gave me reason to pause and take stock.

I had fallen in love with the battle, not the victory. There was no victory, no loss, just the confrontation.

I cooled it some when I started this blog in 2004. Instead of wasting time arguing just to argue, I began to write down my thoughts, beliefs, and observations. Over the next decade I feel I finally discovered who I really was by finding what I truly believed.

I began to bait less and listen more. Call it one of my renaissance periods which I had hoped would last longer than it did. Trump came along and suddenly I was back in the ditches slinging mud with the worst of them.

Nine years later, I am now of an age that I have accepted and no longer deny the existence of that chip I have carried on my shoulder since childhood. I no longer analyze it or try to contain it. Though it has aged and is beat up some, I carry it openly and use it when I see fit.

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

_________________

I am on a roll. The songs I have been picking lately have come easy. And again my choice is a song I have never heard of by an artist I never knew of either.

I am not much of a Hip Hop / Rap fan. It seems though I have had to expand my music list to include some. This tune rocks. and the woman singing reminds me of an early and brief relationship I had with a girl named Paula. She was a skinny white girl with an attitude twice her size. She laid me out once because she did not like a comment I made. I deserved it, but damn, it really hurt. The boys were sore for several days.

Anyway without any further ado, here is Delilah Bon performing "Bad Attitude". Best listened to at WOW on the volume dial.

Weakness

I watched an interview of Rex Chapman this AM on MSNBC. He is a former phenome in college basketball back in the day. His NBA career was cut short because of his addiction to drugs. I have not read the memoir.

I took two things from the interview.

Mr. Chapman mentioned that while writing the memoir, one memory led to other memories he had forgotten. I can relate. When I became actively interested to writing down my past some 20 years ago, I would dredge up memories long buried by writing down the ones that had sat front and center through all the years. Some of them were wonderful, others made me sad, and the worst of them, well, one of the worst I still have trouble facing.

Rex mentioned how one memory led to others to set up his tale of being so desperately addicted to opiates, that he stole from an Apple store.

Effectively, what he said was:

"I can't believe I stole from an Apple store. If not for the drugs, I would like to think I would not have."

Sadly, he will never know because he has decided it was drugs that ruined his life. It was not drugs, it was that he was basically weak and even now, years later, he won't own up to it.

I had my own struggle with drugs. Serious struggles with drugs. Maybe the reason I finally found my way out was because I never blamed the drugs. I put them in my mouth or in my arm willingly. I did it because I was weak. Nobody's fault but my own.

We all grow up with baggage. Some of us are saddled with more than others. But we all have baggage, much of it invented internally to help with perceived and/or real injustices to our being.

My advice to folks struggling to overcome addictions is:

Deal with addiction first and then with the weakness or flaw that created the addiction in the first place. Blaming some one or something else for the bad turn a life has taken is counter productive in my opinion. If the problems are real, address them, not just the substance abuse that was the result.

Honestly, I had intended an upbeat post today. Then I watched the interview and it pissed me off. But I feel better now. Is not that one of the many reasons I started a Blog, to feel better about myself? Actually, the original reason is still the most important. A blog was a perfect vehicle for a sloppy below average writer to pick up his game. Where it ended up taking me, well, was here after over 1700 posts in the last 20 years.

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

___________________

What's the prompt word for a tune that fits in with this post; Drug addiction? Weakness? Or something totally unrelated just because it's a tune I like. One thing is for sure, it will have to be a Blues tune.

I found one song I had not heard by Keith Richards. It's his acoustic version of "Cocaine Blues".

Enjoy.

On Writing

Young men don't have time for memoirs. It is more often the older version of the young man who tries to bring life to a their younger self's story line. As I have not read many memoirs other than my brother's, "just the facts ma'am" story of his life, I have only his style and my own loose dog style to use as examples of what makes a memoir, good or bad.

When I first started writing about my past, I was too young to start a memoir. That effort came at the age of 12 when I wrote an essay in 7th grade English class. I cannot remember my grade or if we were even graded, but I do know I did not impress myself with the effort. It was just a factual rendition of my short life as I perceived it. 

The one or two page effort was full of all the neato, keen, and cool events I had experienced to that point in my life. It was most likely comprised of enhanced tales of tree forts I helped to build, trails I followed in the woods, the kids I liked and the kids I hated. As I remember it now 60 years later, it was writing one would expect from a 12 year old boy. I did not dig deep because at age 12, I had not experienced enough depths to understand they even existed.

I did not stop writing. Over the following years I sporadically wrote stories and poems in notebooks, journals, scraps of paper. Recently I found some of my old scribblings and it amazes me how far my writing has come since those early efforts.. I guess in 60 years I should not be surprised though. Do something long enough I would expect that I would have improved.

Learning to write is the obvious next step after learning to read. At least in my case it was. After taking in so many other's thoughts and ideas, forming my own thoughts and ideas seemed the next logical step.  Writing has helped me come to grips with the realities I currently live in, which I think help me face the Realities still coming. In my mind, being able use words, not just read them, helps create the tools by which to understand what the Hell is going on, even when I am sure I will never have a clue. Writing down my moments of confusion help me to make sense of them.

Confused? Yeah well, live in my head awhile and you still won't understand, even after I wrote the words down. Understand?

I didn't think so.

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

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A tune with no rhyme, reason, or tie-in to the post is what I picked today. I pulled up my playlist on the 'puter and like throwing a dart found this really nice, uplifting song from the talent of R Kelly. Never been a fan. Maybe I should rethink that.

Here is "Gotham City" from the soundtrack of one of the many Batman movies.