Lip-Syncing

I recently listened to and watched a live Metallica arena video of "Nothing Else Matters". Suddenly, memories of the days when I was a cog in the Rock n Roll industry came flooding back. SHOWCO brought music to live venues from coast to coast. And I helped.

I never toured with Metallica. They found the limelight after I had been used up driving shows to wherever the next gig was.

The Metallica video captures the essence of a huge arena show. There was something grand about walking into an arena or a stadium and listening to 50,000 music fans greet the band many of them had driven hundreds of miles to see. I liked the smaller tours more I guess. Less trucks meant less pressure and on several tours it felt like I was on vacation. But I have to say looking out at the madness of a festival seating gig from the stage left an impression.

The picture upper left is one I took while driving for a Zep Tour in 1977. 

What stands out in the video and struck me just as it did in the mid 1970s was how many people lip-synced with the songs. True fans. And it's odd. If the band was a chick favorite, most of the lips flappin in time with the tune were chick lips. Bands that appealed more to the dudes than the dudettes had the boys trying to keep up. Guys always struggled with lip syncing. The girls were born to it.

I know I often write about my time driving Rock n Roll trucks, but hey, that time of my life left an indelible imprint. I picked up some scars while working for SHOWCO, but the great times I had more than outweighed the drudgery that came with the job.

The list of awesome experiences I crammed into my time with SHOWCO is endless. And now when I dredge up another new memory, it does not matter if it is a sad or happy memory. They all make me smile now.

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

________________________

Of course a song for this post has to be the live version of  Metallica's, "Nothing Else Matters". But just for chuckles, also enjoy this live version of the Kinks performing "Lola". It is from a concert in Providence, RI in 1979, after I had left SHOWCO. I drove for them twice. Hands down, no matter how out of it the boys were, they always brought the crowds to their feet with this song. Enjoy.

Another Dreamscape

So another dream remembered that I can now share. 

I never know if my dream posts will pan out. Oftentimes, as I begin to put words to the visual cues found in my sleep dimension ..... well, as soon as I begin to write, my mind goes blank. Or, I will only remember the reminder moment that has stuck with me until after morning rituals are satisfied.

Today, my reminder moment had me on my knees pulling some kind of fir or pine seedlings out of a specially designed back pack and shoving them into the ground. Nearby, across a barren acreage of cutover land, a full scale logging operation is in play. The latest in Forest Harvesters are tearing what's left of this stand of trees a new asshole. I assumed I was part of the state mandated reclamation part of the operation.

My cell phone rings. Its my boss. She asks if I am alright. I reply that I am.

"Then why the Hell aren't you hauling pulp logs to the paper mill in Rumford?"

The scene shifts, or I miss the transition, and now I'm back behind the wheel of an ancient Mack pulpwood truck carrying a 15 foot tall load of pulp  wood. 

I was also back to hating my life and all that was in it. I'm bouncing down a tote road, the truck is rocking side to side hard and I'm wondering if I am about to have another tip over. The last thing I remember is hoping this time I tip on the right side. It's easier to crawl out with the truck tipped over to the right.

Whatever else happened in the dream is lost now. I am happy though, because this dream I think I can explain.

A few months ago I watched a video on Facebook that highlighted the new gadgets the forestry industry was using. The machines in my dream were close facsimiles of what I saw in the video. 

And while I never drove a pulp wood truck, I did pick up scrapped rolls of paper at several Maine paper mills in a beat Mack straight truck with a picking arm that leaked a gallon of hydraulic fluid every week. Hated that truck.

The planting trees thing is also based on a story I read about planting trees in the forests of North America. I read it many years ago. And whenever I was feeling down, I often thought of that job as the perfect get away from Reality job. Planting trees, smoking dope and living in a tent. I was sure nothing better on this planet existed.

In retrospect, I was probably right.

Keep those Titzup Buckaroos .............. See Ya

________________________________

Once again, my musical google prompt turned up too many choices in too few seconds. I decided I would not dawdle. I picked an old tune by the Byrds. "Drug Store, Truck Driving Man" is a song only connected to the post by the word "truck" in the title.

When I heard it after so many years I remembered that this tune is best listened to and even better, listened to being sung by four drunk and disorderly college football players like I first heard it back in my college years.

Hungry Alligators

"The alligator is always hungry ....... Stop feeding it."

I heard this statement on a morning news show today. It was a thought voiced by a Mr. Rossenberg(?), a hired talking head who's opinion is respected by the hosts of the show because well, they asked him to swing by to toss some more barbs at Trump and the three ring Republican clown circus the "Orange One" runs now.

The quote refers to, and I am only assuming here as I was busy doing morning domestic rituals, ..... uh, the quote is in regards to Maine's Secretary of State plan to to toss Trump off the Republican primary election ticket on March 5th this year. 

His point I think was that all this saber rattling and threats of denying Trump a chance to run is counter productive. Trying to kick Trump out of the Maine Republican Primary is only enhancing Benedict Donald's image among his rank and file GOP drooling fans. It makes an already convoluted and extremely complicated political season that much harder to navigate for the slobs on the ground like me. If this was his point, then I am with him.

The court battles, the political games, and the unfathomable stubborn loyalty of Donald's base will not change in any meaningful way unless Ex-President Spanky McLiarFace is beaten at the polls in the General Election in November. Everything so far is nothing but political theater in front of an audience of frightened Alligators who will turn any event or claim against their leader into more fodder to bolster their blind allegiance to the sleaziest politician of my lifetime. Beat him in November and anything after will be gratefully anticlimactic and hopefully throw him under the bus of American bad choices.

I grew up with politics a part of many family dinners. Along with the obligatory glass of "California" wine and cigarette smoke, I was exposed to political discussions that often left family members with hurt feelings, angry moments to get over, and me with confusion rattling around in my brain until I was , uh, I guess somewhere around age nine or ten. I had learned by that time to not lead with my chin, as the age of the debater mattered naught. Open your mouth and you were fair game. No mercy, no special treatment of the innocent child. Consequences were handed out quickly to the weak.

I remember one of the first successful contributions I made at the dinner table was when I asked my father why he did not vote. Joe, my oldest brother added his stamp of approval with, "Yeah dad, why?" I knew I was safe from the ever eager reprisal Joe loved to heap on anyone he considered weaker than himself.

My father said it was because he had spent most of his adult life in the US Air Force. He felt allowing politics into his mind only made serving his country that much harder. He was hired to protect the country, the Constitution and do what his commander in chief wanted within the confines that it not go against the oath he took when he joined up in 1929. 

Not voting for over 30 years simplified the work he had to do as a high ranking officer. Politics was for civilians. Defense of those politics, no matter which side they favored were his obligation to protect. Some years later when I was of protesting age, he supported my participation in the protests as the one thing he felt the proudest of protecting. He might not agree with much I believed in, but he damn well was going to support my right to do it. That, he said, was the sole reason he made the military a career.

His reticence in joining in political debate around the dinner table did not really change even after he had retired. He was quicker to address blatantly stupid comments made without thinking, but overall, he keep his mouth shut unless provoked for an answer. 

I think he would agree with Mr. Rossenberg(?). Politics is nothing but comic drama until it becomes a tragedy. One way to keep the tragedy easier to handle is not feed it with unnecessary bullshit.

I learned a lot by listening to my father stay silent. I sometimes I wish I had been able to be more like him in that respect.

Happy New Year and please keep it 'tween the ditches........ They are deeper and steeper than ever.

____________________

Once again I am impressed another word that when Googled, opens up so many possibilities that I end up wasting my precious "Screwin the pooch" time sampling song after song until I realize an hour has passed. Shit, It only took me 45 minutes to write the flippin post .... Oh well.

Here is the original song from a record one of my brothers had in the 1950's. "See You Later Alligator" , by Bill Haley and the Comets was the perfect tune for a six year old me. I stole it from my brother and wore it out on my Donald Duck record player.

It was also a tune that helped the then "New" music called Rock n Roll solidify its grip on the short hairs of American music. It was highlighted in the movie "Rock around the clock", a nonsensical movie tribute to the new music White Kids were being ruined by. It was "race music" gussied up for white folk consumption. And white folk sucked it up in huge quantities.

With Joe, There's Hope

An old Internet bud asked me to opine on who I thought would win the upcoming Presidential election next November. Would it be Trump or would it be Biden?

I have made a concerted effort of late to keep anything related to or about Trump to a minimum. He's on the tube 24/7. He's in our faces 24/7. We cannot escape the orange asshole. 

But I will try to answer.

My friend is serious. I know this because he is a serious man from what I can tell. He deserves some thought on my part about next November and how it might turn out.

I have tried to fight through my doubts and hesitations to come up with an answer I am comfortable with.

All I can come up with, all I can root out, all that I feel at this moment ........... 

If Trump wins, we're in for some serious fuckery, that's for sure. The only thing standing in the Orange Fruitcake's way is a clear headed and sane semi-octogenarian with a stutter, our current Prez, Joe Biden.

The way I see it is, if we do not get behind the older and smarter Not so Sleepy Joe Biden, we will have fucked ourselves. The choice is black and white, hard edged, definite, no doubt about it; we're fucked if we vote Donald back in. If we rehire Sleepy Joe, we have an even shot of pulling out of the national funk we seem trapped in.. 

It turns out, I cannot say who I think will win next November. I can only say who I know needs to win, the man who is in charge now, Sleepy Joe Biden.

More than any other issues burning at the moment, none are as important as saving us from our worst selves. We need more time to focus on addressing the Trump dilemma more than any other thing we may want to do. We need to relocate some sanity as a nation and stop pissing so hard on each other's feet.

A first step is to show the Donald the door ........ for the second time.

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

__________________

I picked "Proudest Monkey", a song from Dave Mathews. Not sure what connection it might have to the post, but well, we are all monkeys after all, and that includes Sleepy Joe and sadly, Trump too. Enjoy!

Stay Tuned

I guess I did not know what to expect. What I found at the outset was a far cry from anything I had envisioned.

I joined Tik Tok this morning and after only 20 minutes or so of complete cluelessness, I am thinking that my participation on Tik Tok is a no go. I can find nothing but selfie style videos, most of which I have decided are not worth even mentioning them here.

I do not make videos. I write words. Words are my favored form of reaching out and touching folks. Written words don't fail me like my spoken words can. I am able to think about how I want to relay my thoughts more clearly by putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard. I can edit as I go. Fuck up a video and it most likely means a re-take.

No, I don't do videos. ......................................... 

Back in the day I joined Twitter before I joined Facebook. Took me a New York minute to decide Twitter was where small minded mean people coagulated. Facebook was better at the get-go, but not much better. That was 13, 14 years ago and even though I gave Twitter a second chance, I haven't changed my mind. Assholes way outnumber regular folk on Twitter. I hear it is even worse now that Elon got his grubby little fingers on it.

So, I won't bail on Tik Tok, at least not right away. 

Stay Tuned ....................................

___________________________

For no reason at all, I picked "Moondance", by Van Morrison as the musical finish to this post. This song has definitely stood the test of time. I think I like more than I ever did when I was 18. 

Simplifying Things

Ran across these two images this morning. After considering both, I realized that they nicely represent my current attitude about Religion, Trump, and the stupid things we humans get ourselves into.

The ascension of Trump to God like status for some should scare the shit out of the rest of us. The comment, "He is is to be feared above all gods", is absolutely correct. 

We think a god has an affect on our lives without tangible proof. But Trump and his policies have killed people and ruined the lives of others. His life of sleaze and evil is proof of that. He most assuredly has more real power over us than any god one might care to name.

Idolatry has never ended well. And it will continue to disappoint as long as we use it as a crutch with which to live our lives.

Frivolity, on the other hand, may hurt a feeling or two for a few moments or two, but it damn sure is a much better, safer, and fun waste of our time than mindless idol worshiping.

Be Frivolous  .........  Not Religious. 

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

________________________

Musical choice this morning is another Two-Fer.: "Why Look at the Moon", a cover of a Victoria Williams song by the Waterboys to cover the frivolous and a classic from  John Mellencamp, "Authority Song" that somewhat covers my life long mistrust of authority of any kind; .... especially organized religion.

No Longer MIA

Over a week ago, my computer was hacked and hacked hard. Locked up. No go. Not even a teasing icon that would blink should I punch it. 

To be fair, I have been living on the edge using an old Windows 7 system with no power back up or as it turns out, no hired protecting software like WebRoot, Malwarebytes, etc., protecting me from all the slimy, evil, pervasive heebie jeebies that are always looking for a rube like me to take advantage of. 

This time it was the ransomware assholes who snagged me. A lack of attention combined with a knee jerk panic punch of absolutely the wrong icon and they had me hooked and in the net. I contacted the number at the top of the screen and it turns out my computer was useless if I didn't ante up serious jingle to have them unlock the gates.

I performed the hard shut down before I pulled out a credit card. I called my computer guy and he fixed me up. Problem was he had a back log of work. I would have to wait my turn. Call me next week.

Day before yesterday I picked it up and let it sit unconnected while I did the best I could to ignore it. Finally the itch to write and yeah, reconnect on Facebook, overwhelmed my current lethargy and I spent most of today getting to the point you see in the picture. It is never just reconnecting. I had 10 years of dust bunnies built up behind the old computer. I cleaned all surfaces, relocated outlet strips and reorganized a couple of drawers in the desk. 

The typical and predicted failure to stick to a plan very well, an hour job turned into a six hour endurance event. .......... 

My life has been a series of chores that appeared to be simple , but more often than not, seldom were.

So I am now stroking a beefed up Dell computer with Windows 10. Its like a couple of 4 barrel carbs, more horse power and a bigger fuel tank have been added to it. Damn, is this thing fast. Now I have the excruciating chore of adjusting to a new computer. Already some hiccups with the images file and downloading new images from the Internet. ......... I'll figure it out.

 Just a "you might be interested".........

I picked up the malevolent scourge while on Facebook. Not blaming them: I was an idiot and deserved what happened. Reminded me to not get complacent, no matter where I travel on the Internet.

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

_____________________

I found a group I had not heard of. Don't know any of their history. But their covers are excellent. Here is Broken Peach and their rendition of "Tainted Love", PLUS, their fine cover of "Personal Jesus". You're welcome.

Volume up to WOW is advised.  Enjoy.

The Fertile Crescent

Not long ago I posted my absolute disgust with Israel and Hamas in Gaza over their inability to live with each other. The blame I think falls directly at the feet of of Israeli PM Netanyahu and his hard line Conservative policies and also at the feet of the Iranian proxy fighters, the terrorists of Hamas. I pointed out the obvious that the real victims were the innocent civilians of both sides. 

All of this was apparent right at the outset on October 7th when Hamas terrorists invaded Israel, killing around 1200 innocent people and taking many hostages, many of whom were tortured and raped. What followed was the over the top military response by Israel.

Now, the shock of that attack from Gazan terrorists has been replaced with the dread of another regional conflict that might last for years. It will gather more momentum and possibly drag other countries into the fighting. ........ All because the leaders of both sides are stupidly stubborn and willing to kill innocent people to make their points. 

Contrary to the advice of the USA and other countries who have been in this same position because of knee jerk military responses in their past, Israel seems determined to make similar mistakes. The IDF's overwhelming firepower that has resulted in over 15,000 Palestinian deaths in less than two months proves they have no more regard for human life than Hamas does.

I was told by someone I respect that I had an overly simplistic view of the many conflicts in the Mid -East.  They claimed I was not considering all the blatant reasons that were intertwined with age old regional complaints and policies. Quick and simple solutions were not feasible they said.

Fuck that.

This kind of stupidity is simple. The endless blabbering of reasons, of shifting blame, are what make conflicts like this complicated and make them last far longer than they should. The simple solution is and always has been right in front of the combatants.  ..... Stop fighting and talk to each other. 

....... Don't hold your breath.

I have sat on this post and been avoiding any comment on the recent horror show that is unfolding in Gaza. No matter what I say, I will be the asshole as I feel the two of them deserve each other. But I cannot just sit back and watch the assholes on either side of this madness continue their murderous bullshit without calling both of them out. It took two brutal leaderships to create this absolute Hell on Earth. Neither side can claim the moral high ground, no matter what weak excuse either comes up with.

I have nothing but the deepest contempt for the current Right Wing Authoritarian leaning Israeli government under the thumb of Benjamin Netanyahu and total, unequivocal hatred for Hamas as they act as proxies for others intent on Israel's destruction. This conflict is a no win situation that once again puts innocent people in the cross hairs of both sides.

The real goals for either side in this war are political in nature. Throughout history though, Humanity learned early on that to ease their conscience's for acting horrifically against others and to secure support for their heinous actions, they had to come up with excuses that they could hide behind. Religion and defending it from infidels and heathens became perfect go to excuses upon which battles and invasions were planned. It is an old and honored tradition in warfare to blame the other side's lack of faith in the real god and by god, we will make you pray to our god so we can save what's left of you when we are done raping and pillaging. 

No other area of the world is a better example of this than the Fertile Crescent. Thousands of armies have swept back and forth through the Mid-East over the last 10,000 years at least. Most of the conflicts, if not all, had religion at their core. This conflict is no different. Both are playing the religion card when it suits them. Differences in religion should never have been used to justify blowing up the neighborhood unless that religion was founded, at least in part, to support acting like assholes to others.

And people wonder why I hate organized religion of any kind.

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

______________________________

It was a struggle to find a tune that fit my mood after writing this post. I walked away from the computer, did some menial chores, brewed another pot of coffee, and sparked up a doob. When I came back and sat down to find a tune that fit my mood, I quickly zeroed in on Alicia Keys', "Holy War" .

The lyrics:

If war is holy and sex is obscene
We've got it twisted in this lucid dream
Baptized in boundaries, schooled in sin
Divided by difference, sexuality and skin

Oh, so we can hate each other and fear each other
We can build these walls between each other
Baby, blow by blow and brick by brick
Keep yourself locked in, yourself locked in
Yeah, we can hate each other and fear each other
We can build these walls between each other
Baby, blow by blow and brick by brick
Keep yourself locked in, yourself locked

Oh, maybe we should love somebody
Oh, maybe we could care a little more
So maybe we should love somebody
Instead of polishing the bombs of holy war

What if sex was holy and war was obscene
And it wasn't twisted, what a wonderful dream
Living for love, unafraid of the end
Forgiveness is the only real revenge

Oh, so we can heal each other and fill each other
We can break these walls between each other
Baby, blow by blow and brick by brick
Keep yourself open, yourself open
Yeah, we can heal each other and fill each other
We can break these walls between each other
Baby, blow by blow and brick by brick
Keep yourself open, you're open

So maybe we should love somebody
Maybe we could care a little more
So maybe we should love somebody
Instead of polishing the bombs of holy war

What if love is holy and hate obscene
We should give life to this beautiful dream
'Cause peace and love ain't so far
If we nurse our wounds before they scar
Nurse our wounds before they scar

The Hornet - Another Dream Sequence

I opened the door to the half bathroom in the front hallway. Stuffed into a bucket and wrapped in some kind of mesh was a branch with a hornet's nest attached. ..... A big hornet's nest. Not a realistically sized hornet's nest, but an over sized nest that one could understand finding only in a dream.

Upon opening the door, huge hornets began to rush out of the hive and collect in defense postures on its surface. Their wings fluttered and twisted. One of them found a hole in the mesh that surrounded them. Another hornet followed by another and another until all of them escaped into the bathroom and the rest of the house. A hornet landed on my hand and stung me. 

Oddly, I was not afraid. But I knew I had to warn my house full of guests they would have to evacuate until I took care of these party pooping pests. 

As people flooded out of my house, I began to check for hornets. On their way out, one of my guests said:

" Will we still get to meet your dad?"

"Of course, he's just running late."

I continued my search of the house. 

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around. It was my father. He wanted to help me deal with the hornets. We scoured the house until I looked under the hand carved table crafted by my ship's carver great grandfather in the late 19th century. Hanging upside down to the underside of the table was a hornet the size of a small turkey. Again, I was not scared.

My father said, "It's the Queen." 

He pushed me out of the way and with two hands grabbed the queen hornet and presented it to me:

The queen began to squirm and fight to escape.

"Quick, do you have a knife?"

I pulled out my green "Old Timer" knife with it's 3" blade and tried to hand it to him.

"No, You do it......... I have my pants full holding it."

"But dad, how .......?"

"Cut its head off."

I used the knife to decapitate the hornet. Looking inside the decapitated head, I saw nothing. The head was empty.

That is when I woke up.

<>

I wanted to share this dream as it is not often I am able to remember dreams anymore, especially with this kind of detail. Not sure what it means. Don't care what it means. I just thought it was a great dream.

I am guessing that some people might consider this a nightmare or maybe a bad dream. I don't. I cannot remember having a nightmare since the night when I was eight and I went to sleep after having seen the original "King Kong" on "The Late Show". 

That was the last time I asked to sleep in my parents bed as far as I can remember. Ever since, I have categorized dreams as Great, Good, or Not so Good. But never have I ever been scared of a dream like I was that night after watching King Kong run amok in New York City. 

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

________________

First I googled "Songs about King Kong". There were quite a few. But I was not impressed with my first searches. So I googled "Songs about dreams". ..... Jack Pot!

Metallica's 1991 tune, "Enter Sandman'' was staring me in the face. It was Black Sabbath who tickled my interest in Metal music and it was Metallica twenty years later, who made me admit to myself, I was part head banger after all.

There's an unwritten rule about Metal music. Listen to it with the volume turned below WOW and it means you're a pussy. Metal music is meant to be felt, not just heard.

Shit on My New Shoes Blues

I was listening to a Molly Tuttle cover of Neil Young's "Helpless". My eyes were closed and the body rushes from the hairs standing up on the back of my neck made me tear up a tad. In the midst of this silent revelry, memories of my days at Towson College and the basement of West Hall flooded in.

There was no specific connection by just listening to a song that caused me to remember an otherwise forgettable college mixer. It was just another random moment of pure unadulterated happiness from my past. Not sure why, but I think of this moment quite often and quite often it makes me shed a tear or two.  And now, as I try to write about it this Monday morning, I am again shedding a tear with no explanation. 

The moment that has visited me so many times over the past 50 plus years was at the time, just another mixer on the campus with nothing special going on except drinking beer in plastic cups. Two friends of mine performed that night. They only had one song, but that is all they needed to cement this night into my memory. 

Toole played guitar and Bean sang the lyrics. It was a simple Blues tune performed by two friends who were obviously very nervous. Toole looked like he was going to pass out and Bean almost whispered the first few lines. The song was called "Shit on My New Shoes Blues". It was hilarious and it brought down the house. 

That this moment from my past continues to crop up on the re-run channel in my mind used to puzzle me. As I said, it was just mixer with drunken college students. I went to many of them back then. I think I have finally figured out why I keep dragging out this pin prick of  a time gone by, while other more personal headline moments languish on the dusty back shelves of my brain pan.

In the 50 plus years since that party in the basement of West Hall, Life has had its way with me. Over all, I have been a very lucky man when considering what can go wrong in a life. I have dodged many bullets. But like everyone I think, I have not made it to age 71 without accumulating some scars. 

This memory is not one of them.

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

________________________

Today's musical choice is a two-fer.  Neil Young's,  "Helpless", first released on CSN&Y's 1970 Deja Vue album. Then, please enjoy Molly Tuttle's cover of the same song.

The Turkey From Hell

Some months ago, a client of my wife's dropped off a couple of frozen turkeys as a thank you for having her taxes done . One went to the woman BA works with and unfortunately, as it turned out, one came home with my wife.

It was a sizable turkey I pulled out of that bag. Not a monster, but big enough to tell me this bird was destined for the coffin freezer in the basement. One look at its immensity and I knew it was going to disrupt the organized calm in the freezer I had finally attained after years of effort. Irregular shapes of a large turkey size did not lend themselves well to fitting into a tightly packed and efficient square cubic freezing medium. I hated this bird as soon as  I stuffed it in that coffin freezer. 

I entertained no notion of processing the gobbler into some kind of foodstuff anytime soon. Secretly, I hoped to find a home for it at the dump someday when it had become a freeze dried turkey carcass with really cool freezer burns on its previously pale skin. But no. BA mentioned one day last week we needed to do something with the turkey. 

She suggested we ought to turn it into soup and not bake it. She said her assistant had cooked hers months ago and it was a disappointment; tougher than a boiled owl I imagined. 

A few days ago, I began the process of turning the ole bird into turkey soup. Having little or really no domestic kitchen skills under my belt, I have made the process much harder and anguish filled than I needed to. I realized that later as I relaxed for a moment and considered the absolute agony of clueless cooking I had just brought to a close.

My wife, with her decades of domestic bliss in the kitchen, (I'll pay for this comment should she read it), ........ My wife, who spent many years in support of our family at home, while I chased wages to keep the supplies of living consistently coming in; well, she acted like making soup was no big thing. She was right of course as she often tells me. But I still had my doubts every time I cussed that frozen carcass as I moved it out of the way or had trouble finding room for new freezer items because it hogged so much cubic footage.

As it turned out, not including de-frosting, the process of bird to soup took me three and a half days. The amount of soup is north of four gallons and we will feeding on this for the next eternity. It came out well, but then as BA assured me, there's nothing hard about making turkey soup.

Yeah, right.

Ya'll have a great Thanksgiving, ya hear .................................................

______________________________

Music today is that all time hit, "Turkey Hokey Pokey"......... Enjoy!

That Time of the Month

I sat down at the kitchen table this morning around 5:30-6:00 AM. I was not awake yet and that first sip of coffee had yet to pass my lips. I clicked on the small TV. Because we are in the smart ages now, the algorithm that often supersedes my entertainment choices, decided to open up CNBC like it knows that on Sunday we always watch CNBC or NBC with our coffee. It kind of pisses me off that they assume anything about me even if they are more often right than not.

I mumbled and grumbled some, but it was an empty mumbled grumble. I grumbled just to hear myself mumble a grumble because it was early on a morning I used to sometimes sleep through and now I can't. A few moments in with the mumbled grumbling, I managed to focus on the TV. The female host and an informed female guest were gleefully, with smiles on their faces, discussing women's menstruation issues.

I would have mumbled some more grumbles and switched channels had it not been for some words that passed between these two younger women. It was regarding a favorite female go to proof of female toughness that most women are convinced, proves women are tougher than men.

One of the two women asked, "What would Men do if they had to deal with a menstrual cycle?"

Without a blink of her eye, the other lady said:

"They'd probably High Five each other and brag about how many pads they bled through."

I didn't blow coffee out of my nose, but I did spill it as I was bringing it to sip mode when I snorted instead and it dribbled down the front of my shirt. .......... Damn, that was funny.  I know funny and yeah, I am still laughing about it. Guys would definitely do that.

These two women had my attention now. I focused on the rest of the segment and came away with a tad more information I should have had to begin with, but because of the eon's old taboos on mentioning this subject in public, I have had to educate myself through bits and pieces.

Women's periods in my life began as clueless titters and chuckles between groups of children speaking in low voices about something they all knew they shouldn't be discussing. They did not know why, but they damn well knew not to mention it at home. It was a shameful thing that women were afflicted with. Talking about Menstrual cycles was worse than using cuss words.

Cultural pressures and my willful ignorance on the subject managed to keep me in the dark regarding "That Time of the Month". It wasn't until college and my first serious relationship with a girl that I had my first real experience with how bad menstrual cycles could be. K suffered hard during her period. Heavy bleeding accompanied by cramps that often made her double over. All the while, I stood by clueless and helpless because that is what we guys did. Guys acted like menstruation did not exist. And when confronted with it, did their best to ignore it.

Because of ages old conditioning by our various cultures, women had also become convinced menstruation was something to be ashamed of, something that was evil, something their chosen god looked down on. Women had been indoctrinated through religion and constant day to day bullshit that they should be ashamed of bleeding every month or so. Women were less than men. Women needed men, for without them, the ladies would quickly become helpless and would self destruct.

Hmm ........

Don't believe the hype. Women are way tougher than Men. ........... Believe it. 

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

_______________________

By the Way :

If you want to learn more about the entrenched issues associated with menstruation on a national and international scale, a place to possibly start might be an NBC documentary on at 10 PM tonight - Sunday, Nov. 19 -2023 this evening on NBC called -  "Periodical" 

I'm setting the tube up to record in case I pass out before the show begins.

____________________

Music for this post - Hmm ........ I googled - "Music about Menstruation". Many tunes popped up. Who knew? Apparently I didn't, but that's on me. I checked more than a few songs and settled on a new-ish song by an artist called "Peach". Here is her take on that time of the month. Here is  "Period Song".

Big Note ( roll eyes ) A warning comes with this tune describing it as having "explicit material". Just what the Hell is wrong with humans anyway? Buncha  Close Minded Tight Ass Dumb Fucks.

My Non-Apology Apology to Taylor Swift

Right out of the gate and before I get started on this post, I would like to extend a pre-apology for anything I end up writing that might disturb, bother, or somehow insult anyone who happens to read what I write here today. ............ Of course I don't mean it, but maybe someone somewhere will think more kindly of me because I made a gratuitous attempt to garner their favor. Call it a non-apology apology.

I am an old fart who actually has some Internet game, having been active here in the byte filled internet ether for coming up on 30 years. 

( Question- is it "on the Internet" or 'in the Internet"? For some reason today, I don't like either version, ...Uh, well never mind; in the scheme of what is important, nothing I post or questions I may ask amount to anything more than adding to the infinite amount of wasted bandwidth that is Humanity circle-jerking each other on the Internet. )

Newsgroups of the 1990's got me involved in the emerging world of Social Media. It was the barrage of insults that were traded back and forth that hooked me. I just loved swapping "Yo Momma" barbs with strangers I did not know. 

As the World Wide Web expanded its influence, social media pressures from outside our protected little bubbles began to seep in and disturb our lives. Before we could say "What the Fuck", some clown, or group of clowns on the other side of the planet were forcing their ideas and thoughts into our own. 

Some folks claim it is good to have our world views challenged. That is probably true. But today, many of the interactions end up being just some asshole or group of assholes venting their bitter, hateful judgments of folks they don't know and will never ever care to know. It's much easier to be mean to a stranger.

Now 25 years later, I am supposed to worry about what people outside my own circle jerk think about how I conduct my life. I am supposed to be concerned about the feelings I hurt, the criticisms I make, and the lack of respect of the Human Race my time on the Internet has taught me. I tried to care, show some concern or at least some empathy. When there was no reciprocation in kind, I shrugged it off and stopped trying to always be civil.  

Individually, almost every person I have met face to face has shown me they are most days, decent and caring human beings. But give someone a smart phone, a PC, or "gasp", an iPad and the game of interacting can become ugly in a heartbeat. The ability to hide behind the anonymity of a computer keyboard allows even nice folks from down the street to become ugly, hateful personas who never have to face the repercussions of their previously buried acrimonious hostile feelings.

Allow people to hide their identities and the result can and often is an Internet cauldron of ugly, nasty, and false accusations that are always simmering and not so occasionally, will boil over and fire up large numbers of idiots for no good reason other than their feelings were hurt or their dignity was compromised, their manhood questioned, or maybe worst of all, they perceive someone has disrespected their favorite celebrity. 

Nothing brings down a barrage of vitriolic condemnation faster than when someone writes something like,"Taylor Swift music is nothing special Pop Music dribble." ( stay tuned to see if I get shit about this joke, not joke I just made)

Out here in the real world I used to just laugh at the over the top activities of people who cannot go with the flow when interacting with others. But now, with the Internet, the sad, the  angry, and the insane have found a louder voice and formed larger groups of like minded losers who preach their venal hatred or condemnations to each other so much, it becomes an orgy of judgmental hate and discontent; the result being about hating and condemning without rhyme or reason. 

I refuse to be anonymous on the 'Net. Being open about who I am creates a check to my occasional desire to be an asshole to a stranger. I was taught better. I was taught to assume the best in people until they opened their mouths and threw "best" right out the window.

For me, being honest as I can about who I am and how I feel wipes out any guilt I may have if I hide behind a false identity. I wish more of us did that.

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

___________________________

Music, Music, Music,............. This part of my posts sometimes is the hardest part of the post; finding a tune that fits the words, or at least has something in common like a vowel or color.

Well,, fuckin wow, wow, WOW!

I figured since I had voiced an uninformed opinion regarding Taylor Swift's music in the post, I owed her  at least a shot at redeeming herself and proving me wrong.

I googled "Taylor Swift song about how the Internet sucks." What popped up immediately in milli seconds was "You Need to Calm Down".  

I don't know enough about Taylor Swift to make any judgement regarding her music, yet that is exactly what I have done. This song tells me I will have to actually check her music out before I open my pie hole again. 

How's that for a non-apology apology?

Junior High Shenanigans

The GOP used to present a united front in public. They kept their internal differences mostly out of the light of day. Democrats on the other hand, could always be counted on to allow some of their internal party squabbles to spill out into the public arena. Yeah Democrats used to be the loose dogs who occasionally acted like children.

My, how times have changed. The GOP has become so dysfunctional over the last decade and a half, they cannot govern anymore, they can't agree with even themselves, and now, they have become junior high kids pissing on each other's feet. The GOP seems to be determined to implode.

When it became apparent in 2017, the GOP was in serious trouble, I welcomed their inability to legislate. They became the party of "No". I was sure if they continued down this road of  performative negative politics, it would mean the end of the Republican Party I grew up with. 

What I did not consider was the fact that watching the GOP self destruct, while bringing a smile to my lips on occasion,  has hurt our country deeply. The long term results of which, we will feel for years. 

As much as I wish the GOP all the ill will I can muster, I am beginning to hope they either blow up soon, or begin to find some sanity and become legislators again and not just whiny little bitches who only want to "own the Libs".

What a bunch of Buffoons.

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

_____________________

"Politician" by Cream from their "Wheels of Fire" album which came out in 1968. Still pertinent today because politics has always attracted the same kind of assholes.

Ship of Fools

The assault on Democracy here in the States is but one of many attacks on participatory government throughout the globe. Authoritarian conservative movements everywhere seem intent on turning our troubled rock into a world ruled by fear of a minority hierarchy who have only their own selfish goals in mind.

No matter that they are not what they claim to be, their efforts to create a Totalitarian world all seem to have one thing in common; kill any notion of self determination and create populations of slaves. Their power will come at the expense of the people they decided do not deserve full participation unless they have slurped the dogmatic Koolaid of those in power.

All  these oppressive and repressive  movements insist on lock step obedience of their slack jawed minions as they work to change this world of light and dark into a world where Dark is the only shade and Black is the only color. Their goal, to snuff out any any hope for the future unless one walks their walk and talks their talk. Diversity is the ugliest word in their lexicon.

I have tried to come up with a real world analogy for this kind of selfish mentality.  All I can think of is we are like a nature preserve where the alpha animals are in danger of self annihilation because they mindlessly overfed and are now beginning to fight over the scraps instead of working together to find a solution.

Common sense would indicate that working together has never been more important. Yet here we are allowing elites to waste time and human resources in an effort to selfishly hold on to as much of what is left for themselves. 

It is not longer "United We Stand, Divided We Fall". Now we are entering a time of "It's  Our Way or the Highway". 

And The Ship of Fools, mindlessly and gleefully,  continues to chug onward  toward its self-inflicted annihilation.

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

______________________________

Google came up with more than a few tunes wrapped up and around "music about the stupidity of humanity". I picked 2 tunes I had never heard before. 

• "Ship of Fools" - World Party - This One is poignant and on target,
•  "Human Stupidity" - Nihility. - This one thrashes the right vibes for how I sometimes feel.

Old Fogey Still Trying to Boogie

"You know you're over the hill

When your mind makes a promise 

Your body can't fill"

    Little Feat - "Old Folks Boogie"

Had I an inkling of what being 71 years old would entail, I might have adjusted what I put my body through back in the day. I might have utilized more restraint and taken a more measured approach to Life before launching myself chin first into shaky and often dangerous situations.  

Yeah, .......... Sure I would have. .......... Riiiiiight.

I was not kind to my body over the years. Truth be told, I am still not very kind to my physical parts. ..... Come to think of it, the mental machinery is rickety and shaky some days, but we get by. I am nowhere close to mint condition.

My younger days were liberally sprinkled with moments of mindless recklessness. I have been knocked unconscious more times than I can remember. I am packing too many scars to even remember their why or how.  Because of my innate ability to embrace stupidity on an irregular basis, I have had several brushes with death.

For 71 years I have been my own worse enemy. I would like to think I would have been more cautious back in the day if I had been armed with the life lessons I am packing now. Probably not. Most likely I would be sitting here in the same shape. 

This post may seem to be a post of regrets. I guess it is, but I am inclined to believe that I have no regrets, just making an observation that how I made it to 71 years of age could have had less bumps in it.

Second guessing myself has never been one of my strong suits.

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

___________________________

There is only one song that works for this post and my current mindset. Please enjoy , "Old Folks Boogie", by Little Feat - off their 1978 live album, "Waiting for Columbus". Turned up to WOW with ample room to dance is highly recommended.

Lyrics - "Old Folks Boogie"

Off our rockers, actin' crazy
With the right medication we won't be lazy
Doin' the old folks boogie
Down on the farm
Wheelchairs, they was locked arm in arm
Paired off pacemakers with matchin' alarms
Gives us jus' one more chance
To spin one more yarn
And you know that you're over the hill
When your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill
Doin' the old folks boogie
And boogie we will
'Cause to us the thought's as good as a thrill
Back at the home,
No time is your own,
Facillities there, they're all out on loan
The bank forclose, and your bankruptcy shows
And your credit creeps to an all-time low
So you know, that you're over the hill
When your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill
Try and get a rise from an atrophied muscle,
And the nerves in your thigh just quivers and fizzles
So you know, that you're over the hill
When your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill

Get out the Vote - Maine - 2023

There are 8 measures on the ballot here in Maine this year. All of them are worth considering, as they will have lasting consequences.

On the Ballot in Maine on Tuesday, Nov. 7th, 2023

As usual with initiatives on the ballot, at least in Maine, the questions are often poorly worded and can create confusion. In Example......  Three of them, questions #1, #2 and #3 directly relate to the same issue. But they are not clearly connected. If ever there was a time to closely scrutinize ballot questions in Maine, it is in this election.

 The controversial and over publicized Question 3, regarding public ownership of our power Grid rather than the foreign private ownership we have now, is the Question most of us have been exposed to. The campaign to defeat it has overshadowed the connection to questions #1 and #2.

Sadly, many Mainers will not draw the direct connection between the first 3 questions. In order to complete the break the lock on our power grid by private interests in foreign lands, all 3 questions should be dealt with. Question #1 deals with a specific one time action by the state. Questions #2 and #3 will have long term benefite to Maine controlling the influence outside forces can have on our state. 

• Question 1 - Require voter approval for certain state entities, municipal electric districts, electrification cooperatives, or consumer-owned transmission utilities to incur an outstanding debt that exceeds $1 billion. 

• Question 2 - Prohibit election spending by foreign governments, including entities with partial (5% or more) foreign government ownership or control.

• Question 3 - Create the Pine Tree Power Company, an electric transmission and distribution utility governed by an elected board.

So, if you are a Maine resident and want less foreign influence on your lives:

Vote No on Question 1 and Yes on Questions 2 & 3

Moving on now:

• Question 4 - Allow motor vehicle owners and independent repair facilities to have access to the vehicle on-board diagnostic systems.

I am voting YES on Question 4. Again, a question that deals with outsiders attempting to dictate what we can do with our own property. 

• Question 7 - Remove the requirement that an initiative petition signature gatherer must be a resident and registered voter of Maine.

I am voting NO on Question 7. I think the current set up is how it should be. If the question passes, we'll be giving more of our local power away to outsiders.

We do not usually have so many ballot initiatives on a ballot. And it is very odd there are no money related bond initiatives. Of the rest, two are State Constitution changes, and a change in the judicial review process.

And finally- 

• Questions #6 and #8 clean up some clutter in the state constitution.
• Question #5  - some adjusting to some judicial procedure.

All told, the results will have tangible long term effects on my state.

These kind of votes are often more important than who we elect to lead us. These kind of votes create the rules by which our leaders lead.

___________________________

I stumbled across this James Brown tune, "Funky President" while searching for an appropriate tune for this post. I think this song is as close to appropriate as I can get. Enjoy it turned up to WOW ...... And I defy you to not tap your feet when you listen to it. 

I first saw James Brown at Walt Whitman High School for 50 cents when I was in Ninth grade. It was the first concert I ever went to.