Leap Day

I cannot remember if I have ever posted on a date that only shows up every so often. Because I am too lazy to check, I am going to assume I have not. Today is my chance to rectify that.

I was born in a leap year. A new president was also elected that year. If anyone has trouble keeping track of when a leap year happens, just pay attention to the year of a Presidential Election. Most likely, but sometimes not, you would be correct assuming it was a Leap Year. It all depends.

Hard and fast rules do exist when it comes to our so very capricious Gregorian calendar; which is better than the old Julian calendar, but when it is all said done, neither one is much to shout home about.

I wondered about the association of a leap year/election cycle and was it part of the grand plan back in the day when out forefathers were farting in silk undies, swilling ale, and coming up with this great experiment that seems to be on a downward spiral now that the GOP and the Right have finally gone over the edge.

But I digress. This post is not about my extreme disappointment in my country. This post is supposed to be an effort to ignore that disappointment and instead divert yours and my attention to issues that may be of interest to someone somewhere., but probably will fall flat wherever they land.

When was Leap Year created? Why was it created? And was our election  cycle purposefully entwined with it?  

We have to go back to the days of Julius Caesar and before to find its beginnings. 

At some point humans did not want to live Life without some kind of clock or ability to record the passing of time. Following the lead of the four seasons just would not cut it anymore. Beginning many years B.C., many attempts were made. All of them fell short. Then in 46 BC, the Julian calendar was invented. It went through more than a few adjustments ( months added, months deleted, days added and then subtracted. Leap days were included, not included; it was a mess.

The effort was an obvious failure and maybe a good hint that allowing politicians to decide scientific issues was not a good idea. We still have not learned that lesson.

The whole issue revolves around our inability to coincide our lives cleanly with the rotation of Mother Earth around the Sun. We still do not have it perfect, but we got close when we came up with the Gregorian Calendar. The final installment of the Gregorian system has served us well enough for the past 442 years. 

The Gregorian calendar hit a sweet spot when it settled on 365 days it takes the planet to circle the Sun. Problem is, the round trip takes an additional 5 hours, 48 minutes and 56 seconds of each year that is not accounted for. What do you do with this. Blow it off or incorporate some kind a regular adjustment to keep our schedule in sync with Mother Nature's. Deciding an extra day every four years would account for the discrepancy and keep the planet on a somewhat predictable timetable.

BUT.......................

Adding that extra day every four years was slightly too much, so every century that is not cleanly divisible by 400,  we skip a scheduled leap year, so that we and our planet can remain in sync. 

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

Regarding any serious thought the Flounders of our great country had regarding combining the Leap Year cycles with an election cycle seems non-existent. At least I have not been able to find any planned connection. Luck of the draw I guess.

Leap Year and all its rules is but another example of just how messed up the concept of time and how it passes is. 

Is there is a simpler, more logical calendar than the Gregorian one that most of the world follows? 

Depends on who you talk to.

Hang in There ........................................

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I had a Chambers Brothers tune in mind at first. Then I remembered Chicago Transit Authority's, "Does Anyone Really Know What Time it is?" 

What a great tune. And better yet, it fits almost perfectly with the post. Anyway, please enjoy this great tune from back in the day.

Out of Control Stupidity

I have yet to met anyone who has not been stupid, done something stupid, thought of something stupid at least once in their lives. On the other hand, I have met and dealt with people who insist on being stupid on a regular basis and will not admit it. I call them Wingers now days.

This problem of intermittent mass stupidity came and went over the years. I figured that in order to raise the smart folk to the top of the heap, there had to be a widespread swath of stupidity among the ranks to help make them stand out.

With over 70 years now of dealing with my own stupidity on occasion, I realized early on, I was not going to rise to the top. I would have to settle on being part of the sample that helped the smart reach the top. My ego won't allow me to think I am always stupid, but just stupid enough to spoil any chance I have of saving the World,

I had resigned myself to this support role for the smart. But then something happened to not only make me feel better about myself, but at the same time told me there were many more people many IQ points dumber than I was. And it seems that over the years they have collected together in one group who take pride in being as stupid as possible.

They call themselves the Right Wing and they work hard on trying to out stupid each other whenever possible. No better example exists than this Daily Show clip on rising sea levels where Jon Stewart  points out one of the many depths of stupidity the Right works hard to reach.

Enjoy this video. It made my day and at the same time made me sad that we allow this level of stupidity to run rampant among our leadership class.

Climate Change Tutorial

I have watched this video many times since this I first saw it an hour ago. Each time, I laugh harder.

Thank You Jon Stewart.

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I picked "Only a Fool Would Say That", by Steely Dan as today's musical choice.

Donald Fagan was less than impressed with the Beatles and specifically, John Lennon. Reportedly, he considered "Imagine" as one of the stupidest songs of all time. "Only a Fool Would Say That" was his response. 

I liked the Beatles ....... yeah I really liked them. When they broke up, I was sad, felt let down, and then I moved on. Since their breakup, I never got into their individual efforts very much. There were some tunes that sparked like their earlier team efforts, but they never reached the heights as solo acts they attained as a group. 

I admired John Lennon for his activism and his music when he was a Beatle. But the music he created with and without Yoko left me flat. I agree with Donald Fagan. "Imagine" sucked when it came out. It still sucks today. No amount of years will change my mind.

Inevitability ll

This post got off to a very rocky start when I wrote the title before I started the post.  I had meant to tie it in with a previous post "Inevitability", posted a few days ago. Only, I wrote "Inevitable ll" instead of using "Inevitability" as I did in the previous post. As is often the case, this snafu with the words in the title caused me to lose my focus on just what I wanted to write in this post script of sorts to the earlier post.

Then I coughed up some really ugly semi solid clear crap and remembered why I came here today.

When my wife came down with Covid 10 days ago, I resigned myself to the inevitability of me catching it also. Most of the couples I knew around here seemed to have shared the experience. 

I was right. I did catch Covid. While not the often fatal ride of the original rounds of 2020 Covid, this watered down version is certainly no picnic. I have been this sick before, but it has been years. Once I finally scored a prescription for Paxlovid, by the second day of  pills, I was feeling almost human again. 

One of the worst parts of the experience was the accumulated sleeplessness. Next, would be the red nose syndrome which I have hated since childhood. But absolutely, without a doubt, the nastiest mind blowing nightmare of this disease for me has been the incessant 120 decibel sneezing I am experiencing.

Oddly, coughing has not been an issue really. It has not been that frustrating, no satisfaction coughing that leaves me with sore ribs and a shredded throat. So far, when I wind up to cough, I am rewarded early and not frustrated. But sneezing......... Well, sneezing has been so bad, so often, and so violent, I've had to change my drawers more than a few times. But since there has not been much food intake recently, the bathroom disasters did not amount to what could have happened.

I may be counting chickens that haven't hatched yet. After all, I am only into Day 2 of the prescription. But, the almost immediate turn around since Sunday night, well, I am feeling confident Life will become tolerable in a few days. 

As always, please keep it 'tween the ditches ..............................

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Music today is a tune that always makes me stomp my feet. That is how much better I feel today. Please enjoy "Good Thing", by the Fine Young Cannibals.

90 Proof Evening

A bottle of 90 proof Ezra Brooks Bourbon Whiskey had been staring me down for several months. It sat haughtily on the window sill in the office. It had maybe 4 fingers of good, but not great, Kentucky sour mash sitting inside un-swigged. 

I could feel it calling my name, teasing me, telling me I was a light weight by not tipping the rest of the bottle and finishing it like a man. Ignoring it was sacrilege in some circles; circles I no longer circled in. The good ole boys would hang their heads if they knew what I had become.

My days of drinking shots just because a bottle was available have been over for many years now. Testimony to that truth is just how much of a buzz I ended up with after finally taking the challenge that bottle had been throwing at me for so long. 

Fifty years ago I would not have even felt a quiver or a rush from four fingers of 90 proof anything. Fifty years ago I had no exit ramp, no sense of proportion, no control.  It took me awhile, took me changing my lifestyle, and took me becoming totally fed up with hangovers before I found I could walk  around a bottle of hooch without even a second glance.

But tonight, I sit percolating in my lightweight buzz wondering just what was the draw back in the day. Why was drinking so much fun? ............ Hmm.

Thankfully, my wonderment found other things to concentrate on and I moved on. Wondering why I cut back my alcohol intake is of no interest to me anymore. I'm an old fart now and drinking beer, wine, and sweet sour mash are imbibed only occasionally now as a reminder of the days when I was sure I was indestructible.

Tomorrow will probably be the reminder of why I stopped. At least I have something to look forward to.

But since I am here and half in the bag, I think I need to share my view on drinking hard likker. 

When I was young and stupid and not the more intelligent older and not as stupid human I have become after 71, almost 72 years on the planet, I tasted every alcoholic drink I could lay my lips on. It only took a decade to settle on whiskey as my favorite poured on 3 cubes in a short glass. No sweet condiments, no mixers, no straws and definitely no umbrellas; just good whiskey and a coupla cubes and I was a happy camper. I like tequila and all the agave plant derivatives. Problem is they have a tendency to make me trip like I was on on some hallucinogen.

So, if ever we meet in some bar or airport lounge, order me a whiskey, neat, in a short glass swirling around a coupla ice cubes. If there is a god, I am sure that is how they meant alcohol to be consumed.

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

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I think I had already dropped out of college. I was humping furniture for a living and spending all my money on the weekends chasing good times. A close friend from the high school come up to Towson from Bethesda, Maryland to pick me up for a road trip to party at one of the infamous Delaware roadhouses. A band called "The Delaware Destroyers" was performing and he assured me I would not be disappointed.

I am fairly sure I was not disappointed though my memory of that night faded quickly once we started in on our 7th or 8th round of Boilermakers with tequila back shots. I do remember the band. It was the first time I saw George Thorogood.  Between his hard rockin Blues and the round after round I partook in, my love affair with whiskey and the Blues was in full bloom.

Here is George and his Destroyers with one of their more memorable tunes, "I drink alone". 

Inevitability

I guess it was inevitable. People in my wife's working circle were dropping like flies. Okay, they may not have been dropping, but many people around my wife have recently tested positive for Covid. 

Day before yesterday, BA felt a cold coming on. She tested negative, so she went to her office. Monday night, she felt worse and yesterday morning she tested positive.

She did not go to work yesterday. She did not go to work today. That is the first time in a very long time I have witnessed her taking any kind of day off, let alone two in a row during Tax Season. So, besides a very sick wife, I am dealing with an angry one to boot. I look for no sympathy. This is my chance to rise to a new challenge and help my mate. She certainly deserves all that I can give her.

She called our doctor. He prescribed Paxlovid. I waited in a very long line at the Hannaford pharmacy, picked it up, and drove home. Now BA and I have done all we can do except make her as comfortable as she is willing to stand. Inactivity is not one of her strong suits. Me, well, I can get sloth-like in a heartbeat. Just give me a reason. No, I don't need a reason.

The big question I have at this point is will I fall to the evil Covid. So far, any symptoms I may have are safely hidden among all the minor old fart complaints that come with being, well, an old fart. I am not worried though. Whatever happens is beyond my control at this point. My primary concern is helping my wife get back to work.

My primary concern is getting her back to work? ..............  Without context, that might seem kind of cold I guess. In my defense though, cold was not what I was aiming for. Getting her back to work is what will make her happy. BA is a very focused lady. She has been as long as I have known her. She makes plans and then follows those plans to the end. Tax Season is the biggest annually occurring plan she has other than keeping me from driving her wacky. When a plan goes awry, or is interrupted, she can become testy. So, it is partly out of self interest that I will do what I can to help her get back to work, but more important, work makes her happy. And that's just fine with me.

Next up .......... Will Crum also get Covid? ...... Stay Tuned ..................

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My first thought about a musical companion to this post was:

"Covid? There ain't no music to go with Covid."

But I knew better. After many months in a row of chasing songs to include in my posts, I have determined there is a song out there about anything one could come up with. The question is do I care enough to chase down a suitable song? ...... Nah.

I defy anyone to not tap their feet once this tune gets up to speed. Here is "Killin Floor", by Lil Ed & the Blues Imperials. 

Harsh Cruel Winds

The Stench of a People's Fear - Revisited

Harsh cruel winds drive the stench of people’s fear, turning their terror into an anger that sweeps through the land, poisoning everything it touches.  Soap box heroes bellow mindless vitriol that drives a nation's bad temper to feverish and ill conceived conclusions.

No one cares what effect being angry for anger's sake might 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.  No longer is there any interest in pragmatic solutions, just irresponsible blame.

The once vigorous pockets of common sense and sanity scattered here and there have seen their defenses worn down into apathetic resignations. 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 fear creating the hate and discontent that swirls around them.

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

When a citizenry begins feeding off their fears instead of their courage, the first casualty is 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 and ultimately destroy all they used to hold precious.

I originally wrote the preceding post on November 6, 2016, two days before the unthinkable happened that set us on the uncertain course we are still on.

I was originally looking for a specific post that caused a fellow Mainer to abruptly leave my circle of readers in a huff, mumbling and cursing under his breath. I knew he was a champion of the Right, but I had no idea his skin was so thin. As it turned out, I lost contact with him and many other Wingers because of my harsh criticisms of Trump and everyone he had sucked into his own fart bubble.

This is what I was thinking then; slightly, oh so slightly edited. Fast forward to now and it appears I was right on target. Too bad. I wish I had been wrong back in November, 2016.

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

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"The Fear", by The Score is my musical choice for this post. About fear and standing up to it. 

The Reading List

My daughter chauffeured me to and from the colonoscopy procedure I dealt with a week or so ago. On the way, or was it the return, I asked her what she had been reading lately.  We are both voracious readers, or at least she is; I have become somewhat of a slacker I guess. I read a lot, just not the bound fiction I used suck down like water.

Among her wide interests, Lis is into Fantasy/ SciFi, just not the same books I read as a younger man and kid. There is some overlap, but not much. We did agree that "The Lottery" may be the best short story either of us have ever read.

Every one of the authors or titles she mentioned were unknown to me. But with this opening, I shared some of the SciFi titles and authors I had known; Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, Frank Herbert, Phillip K Dick, Harlan Ellison, and Harry Harrison to name a very few.

Later, while thinking of a our day together and what we discussed, I was struck by a feeling of guilt. I had not seriously cracked a book of fiction in quite awhile. I pondered this and decided it was because I am a lazy ass. It's easier to use a remote than turn a page. Besides, there are an infinite number of excuses to not read, not a one of them worth a shit. 

I came away from my reflection determined to show me who has control. Fuck the tube. I am going to put together a reading list which I had never done before. 

Books don't have commercials. Books will always wait patiently for you to pick them back up again, no matter how long you let them gather dust. They allow you to re-read if needed or just get right back into where you left off. Books are silent. Any noise you hear is what you find in your imagination.

Books allow us to be part of the stories we are reading. The written words only create a partial image. We fill in the gaps ourselves with our interpretations. While I have never been a Gamer sitting in front of a screen, I can think of no other medium more immersive than reading a book.

The reading list I have planned is "pick a book off my own shelf and read it". I have a lot of books and like so many collectors, I have more unread books than read ones. Inherited some, bought some. Regardless of how I obtained them, they are here and are found in every room of the house, including the basement and garage.

Collecting books is different than reading them. One helps satisfy that collecting itch, the other satisfies the urge to escape into worlds others have created. I am more comfortable surrounded by books than not.

I have decided to start by re-reading the first book of the "Eden" trilogy written by Harry Harrison. He is an English author who made his name with two SciFi pulp series, "Bill the Galactic Hero" and the "Stainless Steel Rat" series. Both of them, unapologetic spoofs on the popular schlocky science fiction of the time. I didn't read much of the "Galactic Hero Bill" books, maybe one or two, but I did read all of the "Stainless Steel Rat" series. 

When Harrison published this first installment of the Eden series, I had to slow down. This was not just pulp SciFi. This series was in the same vein as Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings". Like Tolkien, Harrison builds a complete alter world filled with language, philosophies and heroic battles between clashing cultures. 

The crashing asteroid did not happen in this alternate reality. The Dinosaurs continued to evolve until they became sentient and masters of the planet at the time. Intelligent mammalian bipeds began to infiltrate out of the frozen North when the latest Ice Age chased them south. Both species become each other's worst enemy. 

A good series and a worthy read if I remember right. I am 75 pages or so  in of the 500 page book and so far its everything I remembered.

Put down that remote- Pick up a book .................................

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While trying to come up with an appropriate song for this post, I followed a link to a page claiming to know the 10 best songs about science fiction. Much to my surprise, Led Zeppelin's "Ramble On" made their list. Apparently Robert Plant wrote the lyrics after reading the Tolkein Trilogy, "Lord of the Rings".

This song also falls into the obligatory category of "turn it up to WOW". If you don't turn it to WOW,  John Bonham has promised to come back from the dead and toss your TV out of the 10 story window from his hotel room in Heaven.

You have been warned. 

Pleasantly Haunted

My Uncle Herb and Aunt Helen migrated north to Maine from Moorestown, New Jersey around 1957 or '58.  They were not really of retirement age. Both of them had good jobs. Uncle Herb was a Postman. Aunt Helen was head dietician at a fancy girl's school outside of Philly. Why they left the quiet shaded neighborhood in Moorestown was never revealed to me, but over the years I put some pieces together to come up with something I think was close to the truth.

Uncle Herb never recuperated from the PTSD he picked up as an island hopping Marine in WW ll. Neither my aunt nor Uncle Herb would talk about his time in the Pacific. Neither would my parents discuss it; at least not much. Over the years I did get my aunt to open up some, my parents to open up some.

My father explained it this way:

 A naive young man goes into the Marines; is trained to kill; then he kills for several years and the man who  comes home will never be the same man who went in. Some men recover, others don't. It's the way of war. Regardless, none of them come home unchanged. Uncle Herb never fully recovered. 

Moving to Maine may have been an attempt to help him cope with Life again. Whatever the reasons were, I will always be grateful they did move to Maine. I might not have settled here to raise a family if they hadn't. 

My visits to Maine as a child embedded a deep love for this part of the country. I was captivated by all the Nature that surrounded me. My hikes with my uncle still stand out as some of the most memorable moments of my young life. My interest in birds started then.

The bird above was the first animal I could identify that my dad could not. I first saw one on a Christmas visit to Maine at age ten I guess. A few years later, one landed on the feeder at our home in Oxon Hill, Maryland. My dad did not recognize it and just as he reached for the dog eared copy of "Birds of America", I blurted out, "Tufted Titmouse", and then proceeded to dance in celebration because I knew something Dad didn't. I later impressed Aunt Helen when I was tending her feeder some 25 years later, mentioning there were two Tufted Titimice on a branch patiently waiting for me to finish refillingl the feeder. 

Bottom line, whenever I see a Tufted Titmouse, my past comes back to pleasantly haunt me.

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

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I did not hesitate. I did not lose myself trying to pick a song for today's post. Only one tune would do. Here is 1977's Weather Report number, "Birdland". An excellent tune.

Democrats, Finally Unmasked

Democrat operatives inside the Biden inner circle are spinning it as a planned PR stunt to rib the GOP over their irrational beliefs that somehow the Left was smart enough to rig the Super Bowl. 

Many MAGA warriors are positive this is a designed travesty and betrayal of all that is sacred in our God Blessed country. Many contend it is just more groundwork for the evil Left's clandestine alien invasion planned for later this decade. 

Democrats claim the image of Biden is nothing but a Super Bowl spoof that hopefully caused Republican sphincters to open and close repeatedly until they froze shut. ..... That is the unofficial official story line anyway.

Because I have close ties to secretive groups inside the DC Beltway, I found out the so called "PR stunt" was actually a mistake while setting up cameras for a broadcast of the President offering faux congratulations to his half man / half alien allies who fraudulently won the Super Bowl. The fact is, Biden simply forgot to put in his contacts. There was no walking it back, so they decided to claim the image was part of the joke.

Exposing their long term plans of World Domination this far ahead of the November election may be premature. But it is expected. After all, Democrats are at least half human. The Dajk convertoscope cannot completely excise all of Humanity's failings during the conversion process. With beings this stupid, some residual shortcomings always seep through into the final drone.

But it is done now. The cat is out of the bag. This unplanned exposure is proof that Democrats and other Libtards are indeed an evil incarnate from Outer Space. Will the GOP be able to muster up enough support  among their drooling minions to defeat these alien controlled Devil worshipers?

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

Personally, I am puzzled why the Right is so fired up, what with their "Rapture" showing up any day now. I mean, why would they want to waste time, money and materiel fighting for control of the planet, when they will be leaving soon anyway? If it was me, I'd be in a Barco Lounger with plenty of doob and likker on the TV tray next to me. What's the point of fixin the planet when you're leavin soon anyway.

Just another one of the unfathomable questions we Libtards cannot understand. But then of course, how could we truly know the minds of Mankind when we are only half Human to begin with.

Chew on that .............................. 

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With the "Rapture" still on my mind, the only song I could think of quickly was Bob Dylan's, "Knockin' on Heaven's Door". The problem now; do I use the original or one of the ga-jillion covers?

I listened to many covers of  "Knockin' on Heaven's Door". Several were excellent. One, Gun's n Roses' version, was not one of them. Can't stand that version. I finally settled on this acoustic version by Jay Howie, an Australian artist I had not heard of yet, although some months ago I did listen to his excellent acoustic version of "All along the Watch Tower".

Then I thought of one last place to check for a cover; "Playing for Change", an international collection of musicians who collaborate on songs, using any profits to help improve sad situations around the globe. Here is their version of "Heaven's door" .

A twofer today.  .......... Enjoy.

Useless Drugs & Dreams of Rosie

My first colonoscopy, 15 or so years ago, was a fun event for me. Well, the prep the day before was not, but the actual procedure was. I was allowed to watch it on the monitor as Dr. Abraham went on mission and captured some enemy polyps for later interrogation. Once they were secured properly in their test tube jails, he then ruthlessly and offering no quarter, wiped out the remaining few with his laser. They went poof in clouds of vapor. 

This time, all I remember is rolling over on my side as a green scrub ( everyone in that room was a green scrub. they had stripped me of my glasses ) ..... a green scrub holding a syringe with white liquid in it, said:

"You are going to feel some heat as I inject this."

I thought it felt cold. That was my last complete thought as another green scrub shoved a mask on my face and told me to breath deep.

Everything went black. I woke up in the recovery room less than 30 minutes later like nothing at all had happened. They had used different drugs on me;  coldly efficient drugs leaving me only a foggy brain sporting a mild headache as my reward.

Dr. Abraham came in and gave me the good news: 

"No more colonoscopies for you".

At the time I was so foggy, I wasn't positive this was good news. I figured some bad news was about to follow.

"Not a polyp anywhere or anything other than normal. Go home and recuperate. Unless something odd happens, this is probably the last colonoscopy you will ever have."

On the way home, my daughter and I stopped at Firehouse Subs and I had my usual "Hook and Ladder", only this time I ordered the big one.

The rest of my Monday I spent sluggish and out of sorts. Tuesday morning however I awakened to my voice singing lyrics from a Joan Armatrading song:

"Awe Rosie, don't you do that to the boys"

I love it when I wake up either laughing or singing.

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

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The obvious choice for a tune is the song I was singing yesterday morning. Here is "Rosie", off  Joan's first album I think, "Track Record".

Stupor Bowl Sunday & Skinny White Chicks

Other than hoping the 49ers kick KC's ass at this year's Stupor Bowl, I have no real interest in the game this year. I haven't had any interest in the Stupor Bowl for some time now since the Pats have fallen on tough times. Their GOAT quarterback left some years back and their GOAT coach just couldn't seem to get the team's level of play back up to the standards the team set in the previous 17 years. He's gone now also. Whole new team next year. .... We'll see.

It's a good thing I don't care about watching or not watching the Stupor Bowl; especially since I can't count on the normal run of snacks and alcohol I would most likely want as I watched the game. I am looking forward to on a pre-colonoscopy all liquid diet today. ...... Yeah, I can't wait. 

I had a colonoscopy 12 -13 years ago. It went fine. I was fine. The biggest thrill was watching the screen as Dr. Abraham fired his laser and turned the few polyps that were there into vaporous clouds. Very cool. 

The prep the day before was Hell though. I expect Stupor Bowl Sunday this time to be in the same ballpark. At least now, I know what to expect.

However, my upcoming trials and tribulations on Sunday pale in comparison to the epic saga of whether Taylor will make it to the Stupor Bowl in time to root for her Manly Man and his team. 

The drama built up over this life or death question has been well, Taylor Swift Gigantic. Just what we would expect given Taylor has more of a fan base than, ...... than anyone. If she farts, its news. If she yawns at an interview, her devoted admirers wonder if she might have a terminal disease. 

Some days it seems the World does indeed revolve around skinny white chicks.

Go Niners! ......................

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Music today is from an artist you will never see center stage at Halftime in the Stupor Bowl. Who that person is at this very moment is unpicked, unfound, not located yet. 

After exhaustive avoidance and looking for something else to do, David Bromberg came to mind. His version of "Kansas City Blues" is as good as anyone's version. Seems appropriate for Stupor Sunday.

For all those NFL fans who hate the Chiefs .............  Enjoy.........

None of the Above

Lately, no current event exemplifies better the Right's failure at everything political than Nikki Haley losing to "None of the Above" in the Nevada Caucus/Primary yesterday. Losing to a dead guy would have been a better result.

Toss in the Congressional House's failure to impeach DHS Secretary Mayorkas and in almost the same breath, fail to pass a funding bill for Israel's defense, well, the only thing that could add a cherry to the top of that GOP Shit Sundae would be Trump getting laughed out of the Appeals Court over his claim of presidential immunity.

 ........ And the never ending GOP Clown Circus finds new ways to display their evil stupidity.

No, not a good day for the GOP and the Right in general. Votes for "None of the Above" may not bo so much an asperation on Nikki, but rather an indictment of the GOP as a whole. Actually, they have had little success at any phase of their efforts to control this country since Trump first poisoned their swamp.. Besides, not being able to govern is bad enough, they can't even do a passable job of screwing the Democrats.

Contrary to their claim that theirs and the country's woes are the fault of the elitist Libtards, all the damage to themselves and for that matter any recent damage to the country sits directly on their shoulders. They are the problem. Their leaders know it. Their leaders just do not care. Making Democrats look bad is all they have and they cannot even do that right. 

The Right's complete failure of leadership is only surpassed by their total incompetency at trying to make the Left look bad. The Wingers have run out of feet to shoot themselves in and very few, if any noses are left to bite off to spite their sad clown faces. Inept, morally and ethically bereft, hypocritical, lying, cheating, self centered assholes is all the Right has become. Why anyone would vote Republican now is beyond my ability to understand. But then I have always had trouble understanding stupidity this insistent.

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

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When I finish a post, I will take from a very few moments to very many moments to pick a song. As soon as I thought of poor Nikki Haley and her humiliation in Nevada, Beck's, "Loser" , immediately came to mind. It fit, especially after the 2nd run through and that last toke.

Enjoy.

Raising a Heathen

Roy Wrenn

My wife and I never really discussed it. Our own personal issues with organized religion in our past created the scenario though. 

At some points in both of our lives, we discovered that organized religion was not going to fit in with the paths we chose to follow. Because of our total disregard for Church on Sundays, our daughter grew up with no religious indoctrination. My wife and I did not do it consciously. We just did not place any importance on being subservient to a mythical entity.

When I was a child, seemed everyone went to church. The first kid I knew who had no religious affiliation was named Bobby. He came into my fourth grade class in Tampa after spending his first 10 years growing up in Bumfuck, Africa somewhere. He got a lot of shit from some kids in my class for not being a Christian.

I was an up and coming ever faithful member of the the Episcopal Church.  I invited Bobby to come to Church with me and my parents. He passed. Said his parents would have none of it. They were Atheists he said. I asked what an Atheist was. He said they don't believe in God.

More than a few years of Sunday school and wearing out my knees in genuflective prayer told me otherwise. I said as much and we got into a shoving match a teacher felt compelled to break up.

I told my parents about the dust up at dinner. Neither of them took my side. I remember one of them said religion is no reason to get into a fight. Matter of fact, it was probably the worst reason of all. Some people don't believe in God and that's fine. Forget it, they said. 

I forgot it and got on with my life. In less than a week, Bobby and I were friends again.

Several years later I left organized religion for good. The blatant hypocrisy on display every Sunday finally got to me. I never looked back with regret until .........................

So my 13 year old heathen daughter comes to us one day and asks if it is okay if she goes to church with a friend. Neither my wife nor I had a problem with it. Sure, go right ahead.

It was while she was out with her friend the next Sunday I harbored regrets about not giving her some exposure to religion yet. Then I realized that exposure had finally come, and she had initiated it. No coercion, just her curiosity. Perfect.

When she got home from her first brush with God, I asked her why had she wanted to go to church. She said her not going to church had some tongues wagging among her peers. She had been invited, so she went and now it's done. She did not seem interested anymore. 

I am not sure if she ever went to church again while living under our roof. I'm not sure because I just do not care. I respected her decision at age 13 and it ended there. I figure my heathen wife and I set the decent moral examples she needed to get rolling on the rest of her life. Now, she's on her own, and has been for years. She is a strong woman married to a strong man and they carry themselves like stand up citizens should. ................

........... And religion had nothing to do with it.

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I was all set to use R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" for this post. Then I noticed nearby waiting for just this moment, "Where Ya Gonna Be" , by Charlie Parr was waiting barely able to contain itself. I just had to let it replace REM. No one picks quite like Charlie.

"I'll Take the Mean Tweets"

In the midst of a "Bash Trump" segment on MSNBC one morning, host Joe Scarborough was on his high horse denigrating Trump while at the same time whining about how his heroes, Ronald Reagan and the Bush father and son duo would be so ashamed of what their and his old party has become.

First of all, Reagan was a useful idiot who helped to commit treason and both Bush's got us into wars totally by manipulation and fabricating lies. I suspect, that if they were still in politics, they would fall in behind Trump just as the current GOP leadership today has. It has been a time honored tradition for the GOP to put their thirst of power and fealty to corporate oligarchs before any other minor consideration like well, the country for example. Yeah, the Democrats also suffer this character flaw, but not to the degree the GOP does.

This morning the Bash Trump segment had Joe bringing up many of the increasingly ugly and nasty tweets Trump has posted on social media. Joe went through all this to point up a recent comment made by Senator Mike Lee of Utah who was quoted:

I just endorsed Donald Trump. Whether you like Trump or not, Americans face a binary choice. Biden refuses to enforce our border, prosecutes his opponents, & embraces policies that make life unaffordable for hardworking Americans. I’ll take the mean tweets. I choose Trump.

Joe followed up by noting some of the too numerous to count low points of Trump's presidency; his racist appeasing comments about the "Unite the Right" rally in Charlottesville, VA in 2018 and the comments he made in 2018 while in France rubbing shoulders with the big dogs of Europe. He refused to go to the WW l memoriam for American dead, calling the soldiers "suckers and losers" and besides he did not want to get wet. Joe continued with more, but his point was that Sen. Lee just does not get it, the whole leadership of the GOP does not get it that Trump is a very real threat to the country.

This "preaching to the Choir" schtick of Joe and Mika's is fine and dandy. It gives comfort to all the hand wringing Libtards that, despite their fears that everyone is out to ruin their latte infused mornings, there is someone still carrying the liberal cross, even if it is carried on the right shoulder now instead of on the left. 

I say this as a now Independent Libtard who has become disgusted with all the leaders, Right and Left. We have not been close to a healthy country since 911. For me, that is when I saw the USA I knew begin the ongoing swirl around the drain.

I will still vote and mouth off, but I do not have much confidence of seeing any of the "Old Normal" again in my lifetime.

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

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Today I continue to pick from the music of John Prine; actually from the music of his first album with the catchy title, "John Prine". Here is "Illegal Smile", a tune that was sure to be hit in every college dorm of the early 1970s. We rocked out to this song more than a few times in West Hall.