In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

A Deal That's Not a Deal

Amtrak/Money Pit USA wants taxpayers to cough up half of the money for a 13 billion dollar refurbishment of railway between New Jersey and New York City, which they said was promised in a deal with the Obama Administration. The Trump administration says there is not such deal, and has concerns about the federal government spending so much taxpayer money for a local project. 

The proposed project involves refurbishing tunnels and a bridge that connect New York City and New Jersey. According to Amtrak, these sections of rail will fail within the the next 10 to 15 years. That may be the situation, and the Trump Administration doesn't deny the need, but the method of funding is the concern.

Considering how Amtrak is a money pit, and the fact the proposed project only serves a local community, expecting U.S. taxpayers to fund half of the project, which was obviously a political platitude from Obama, is asking too much, in my opinion. That, and these areas of the country thumb their nose at the rest of the United States by pandering to illegal aliens, promoting an entitlement agenda, and ignore the fact their ability to survive is completely dependent on the good will of the producers of raw materials.

I don't know how this will turn out, but do know the anger towards the capitol will increase if more money is thrown at the poorly run sections of the U.S. constantly decaying due to misappropriation of funds and unscrupulous politicians. The help can only be considered enabling, and the problems will never end by throwing more money toward the problem.

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Who Falls First?

With so many in the government obviously intent on their agenda, regardless of the legality, someone will eventually be charged; and it won't be who the media want to fall.

Will it be a member of the Clinton Department of State? Evidence proves many made serious mistakes, and compromised national security. The mistakes are illegal, in spite of intent. With intent, espionage crimes come into play.

Will it be a member of the F.B.I.? Comey admitted to breaking federal law in sworn testimony. For the director of the highest law enforcement agency, that's not a minor mistake. To make an example, such actions require felony charges.

How about a member of the Department of Justice? The Attorney General met with the husband of a presidential candidate, when that candidate was under scrutiny of criminal actions. That's way beyond unethical, and if an intent to bury evidence was the reason for the meeting, the charges would be severe.

Even with the corrupt media acting as "hit men" for the subversive members of political parties, and the government, attempting to bury information eventually leads to an obvious perception of collusion to hide criminal actions. With the knowledge such actions are an attempt to hide known criminal actions, involvement turns into criminal collusion and organized crime.

Meanwhile, Sessions has all the pieces of the puzzle, and is not involved with an investigation, which anyone in the Department of Justice will know was started by a dossier created by a company known for character assassination by any means. The company is exposed, others that had their investigations destroyed by the company are coming forward, and the company is stalling to either destroy information, or trying to reduce the collateral damage of their actions. Bank record will tell all, and if those records are ever officially recovered, the evidence may lead to long decades in prison for some involved.

Muellor, if he was ever part of the conspiracy to destroy Donald Trump, now is not only in the public eye, he surrounded himself with hired hands with shady pasts. Regardless of intent, his investigation is not only tainted, the final outcome may reveal criminal culpability, and the investigator may become a defendant.

Personally, I think Trump is more shrewd than those in D.C. ever imagined. You have to be, to run multi-million dollar construction projects, while dealing with organized labor, criminal government officials, and the cut-throat nature of many large general contractors. Survival means playing your cards to win, and never placing yourself in a position you're betting with something you can't lose. If I'm right, everything is falling in place, and he has the winning hand. Time will tell.

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Brutal Weather

We're having a cold spell, which is brutal for this corner of the world. It's far from the freezing conditions to the North, but is has its own way of causing misery.

Here, when the temperature is around 40, and the humidity is around 90 percent, the cold seeps into everything. It's not dangerous, but it's hard to warm up with the damp cold permeating everything.

I never paid much attention to this type of cold, until a few years ago, when the temperature finally fell before freezing. The air became much drier, the sleet turned into snow, and the air stopped being so quick to remove any heat. It was enough of a change to find remarkable.

So, the forecasters are calling for cold, cloudy and damp conditions through the New Year. I hope the temperature stays above freezing, and we don't have to face an ice storm. That turns live oak trees into the damaging bane of utility workers. The leaves collect huge amounts of ice, the limbs break, and many are faced with days without electricity. For all electric homes, that's the start of misery.


I was looking at a chart of life expectancy ages over the years. When I looked at the average life span for a man for the year of my birth, I discovered the age matches the year I can draw full S.S. payments. Coincidence? Hardly. Ponzi schemes don't work very well if the money disappears too rapidly and the suckers discover how much they've been screwed.

Monday, December 25, 2017

Christmas and the Interstate

I'll post this again. 


W.R. pulled his coat tighter, after closing and locking the door of his truck. Stopping for a moment, he took a deep breath, hoped for a hint of fresh air, but was rewarded with the odor of diesel and the exhaust of the tractor-trailer rigs at the pumps. Moving on, he hunched his shoulders in the cold, damp north wind. The faint smell of the grill in the attached restaurant made his stomach growl, although he wished he was smelling something more traditional on a Christmas Eve.

Glancing around the parking lot, he felt the familiar feeling all truck stops brought. They were all the same, but different. All had different faces behind the counter; some he knew, some he didn't; all were the refuge of those that led a huge portion of their life behind the windshield of a truck.

Across the parking lot, in a corner isolated from traffic, he noticed the small car, with the woman standing and looking under the hood. Steam rose in the cold wind and was whisked away; streamers of lost hope and anxiety.

W.R. paused, silently argued with his inner voice, but succumbed to the urge to help someone in trouble. Changing direction, he quickly walked to the car, stopped for a moment, then offered his help.

"Do you need some help?"

The woman looked his way. For a moment a faint smile crossed her face, but was soon replaced with the hardened expression of someone that felt slight fear and apprehension. She stared at his face, paused, but replied with resignation in her voice: "The engine light came on; the engine died; so I coasted to this spot."

W.R. examined the woman's face for a moment. The glance revealed a young woman with dirty blonde hair, a pretty face, and a determination found only by those unwilling to give up, when faced with problems. He guessed she was around thirty, down on her luck, and stranded in a truck stop, while travelling somewhere important. What little makeup she wore was overshadowed by her unkempt appearance: an old flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and sneakers that had seen better days.

"Do you mind if I take a look?"

She hesitated before answering: "Go ahead; maybe we can figure it out."

He liked her answer. Unwilling to admit defeat, she wasn't about to defer to the advice of a stranger.

It didn't take long for W.J. to make an initial assessment. The coolant reservoir was empty, and the steam was from a cracked heater hose.

"Have you checked the oil"

"I was about to."

Pulling the dipstick revealed a gray, oily sludge. W.R. hesitated, but soon announced: "You've lost coolant, and you have a blown head gasket."

"Is that expensive to repair?"

W.R. looked at her face and found a worried look. He paused to reexamine the car before he replied: "Probably more than the car's worth."

"My phone is out of minutes. Do you have one I can borrow?"

W.R. felt a pang of apprehension. His kindness had led many places he never wanted to go, but he was raised to be that way. He immediately replied: "Sure", and handed her his cell phone.

She dialed a number, waited a few moments, then answered: "Hi, Mom. I'm broken down on the interstate, so I won't be there in time."

W.R. walked a few steps away to give her privacy. Although he couldn't hear all the conversation, he heard enough to understand the woman didn't have the money, her mother would need to wire her some money, and it wouldn't happen until a family member returned to take her to wire the money.

"I'll be alright. I'll stay in the car, and I'll call to give you the place to wire the money."

Lost in his thoughts, W.R. was a little startled when the young woman said: "Thanks. I appreciate it."

A thousand thought crossed W.R's. mind. Pushing sixty, a little overweight, and with a salt and pepper beard, he felt he looked the epitome of a trashy trucker. He felt any offers to help would either repulse, or cause fear to the woman young enough to be his daughter. He looked at the woman, and her face revealed a sadness that pulled at his soul.

Ignoring his instinct to flee, he asked: "How far are you going?"

He couldn't read her reaction, but she replied: "I'm going East, to Mobile. I was hoping to spend Christmas with my mother."

W.R's. heart broke. It was Christmas eve, Mobile was a few hundred mile away, and it would be after Christmas before she received her money.

"I'm heading East. You can ride along, and come for your car after Christmas."

The woman's face changed from apprehension, hope, fear and a guarded look in a few moments. Pausing, she soon spoke: "I'll wait until you come back."

Feeling awkward, and not really knowing what to say, W.J. responded: "I'm going to get something to eat, so it may be awhile. Why don't you join me?"

"I'm not really that hungry."

"I'm buying. I won a few hundred on scratch-offs at the last stop, so I need to pass my good luck on"

She examined his face for a moment, smiled, and replied: "I'd hate to ruin your good luck."

As they walked to the restaurant, she spoke: "I'm Cathy."

Stopping, he turned, held out his hand and introduced himself: "I'm W.R., and I'm pleased to meet you."

She shook his hand, and replied: "W. R. must stand for something."

"Wendell Roberts; everybody just calls me W.R.; I like that better."

Continuing to the door, she spoke again: "It's not a bad name."

W.R. laughed, and replied: "No, but it led to a few fights in grade school."

She laughed, started to say something, but decided not.

W.R. held the door, as they entered the restaurant. Mostly men sat at the tables and booths. A few looked at them as they entered, but most just continued eating, or staring into space.

Finding an empty table, they were soon seated. A tired waitress soon arrived to take their order.

W.R. responded: "I'd like some coffee, and a little time to look at the menu.:

Turning to Cathy, she replied: "I'll have coffee, too."

After the waitress left, W.R. cautioned: "There's a lot on the menu, but other than breakfast, I usually stick to the hamburger, or club sandwich. Unless they hired new cooks over the last few weeks, everything else isn't very good."

The waitress soon returned with their coffee. Speaking as she set the cups on the table, she asked if it would be one ticket, or two.

"Put it on one ticket", W.R. responded. "I'll have a cheeseburger all the way, with fries."

Cathy was quick with her order: "I'll have the same, but cut the onions."

Writing quickly, the waitress left to give their order to the cook.

Neither spoke, until they fixed their coffee and took the first sip.

Cathy was first to speak: "The coffee is good."

W.R. smiled and replied: "It's some of the best around. It's fresh ground and makes up for the food."

Cathy examined W.R.'s face as he looked out the window. Mostly unwrinkled, the only clear lines were his smile lines. His beard was neatly trimmed, a little curly and his pale complexion was free from damage by the sun.

"Have you driven trucks most of your life?"

W.R. turned to look at her face, when he answered: "Since I left the Army in my mid-twenties." I started working for others and eventually bought my own rig. I've hauled just about everything, but it's mostly been flatbed and long hauls."

"Do you have a home?"

"Not right now. My wife of 15 years got it in the divorce settlement, and I kept what little I had for my retirement."

"Do you have any children?"

"I have a step-daughter, although she's like my own. I was hoping to see her, but she's spending Christmas with her mom; and her grandfather. I'll see her when I get back to North Texas"

"Is that where you're from?"

"Amarillo. I was raised there, left for the Army, returned long enough to marry, and start trucking."

"What about your parents?"

My dad died in a farming accident, when I was in the Army. I wanted to request an early out, but Mom wanted to sell the farm, since there wasn't much money to made and she didn't want to keep fighting so hard for so little. She's living with my sister and her husband. We never really were that tight of a family, so I only see them a few times during the year"

Saddened, Cathy spoke without thinking: "That's sad." She wished she hadn't said anything, when she saw the momentary look of sadness, and defeat, in J.R.'s expression.

"I guess so. Those types of things just happen."

Cathy decided to be quiet, but W.R. continued the conversation: "What about you?"

Cathy stared out the window and replied: "I never married. I thought I would, but my ex was full of more crap than a Christmas turkey."

W.R. silently waited for her to continue.

"He had a good job offer in Houston, persuaded me to leave Mobile, so I went to find my dreams. One year later, he's fired for drinking on the job; six months later I had enough, and a little over two years after leaving, I'm here, fresh quit from a crappy retail job, and broken down on the interstate."

Before W.R. could ask any more questions, the waitress returned with their order. Placing the plates in front of each, she placed the ticket in front of W.R. and left.

Cathy spoke: "She could have asked if we wanted some more coffee."

W.R. laughed, and replied: "I'll flag her down in a minute. It looks like only half the wait staff is here, and I wouldn't be surprised she doesn't have a relief."

Cathy looked around, and realized W.R. was probably right. Feeling a little sheepish, she commented: "I should have known. I waited tables for a few months. It's tough to be helpful, when it's all you can do to keep up."

As they ate, Cathy remarked: "The burger is good."

W.R. replied: "They make their own patties, and cook them on an open grill."

As they finished, W.R. flagged down the waitress, and pointed at his empty coffee cup. She soon returned, filled both cups and asked if they needed anything more. Both answered "No; thank you", and she was soon gone.

Sipping her coffee, Cathy said: "I'm guessing my car will be towed before tomorrow night."

"Maybe not."

"It doesn't matter. It isn't worth the towing fee."

Sitting silently, W.R. thought of a friend, made an excuse to go to the restroom, and was soon away from the table to make a phone call. Returning to the table, he asked Cathy: "I have a friend that will buy your car for scrap; if you're interested."

Cathy sat for a moment before replying: "How much?"

"He wouldn't commit, but said he just finished repairing a tire down the road, and would meet us in the parking lot."

"Well, let's go find out."

Rising from the table, W.R. picked up the ticket, and examined the cost. When they reached the checkout, their waitress was there checking out another customer. When finished, she quickly rang up their bill, and announced the cost of a little over sixteen dollars. W.R. pulled a twenty from his pocket, peeled another with it, handed it to the waitress, and said: "Keep the change."

Shocked, the waitress started to say something, but didn't when she noticed his wink. A huge smile appeared, but soon faded, when a customer called from one of her tables. With a quick "Thank you very much", she was soon gone.

"That was more than kind"

"She deserves it. Waiting tables is a thankless job, without tips."

A gust of cold wind caused both to bend their heads to the wind as they left the restaurant. Looking towards her car, they could see a service truck parked next to it, with a man looking it over.

As they walked up, the man held out his hand and spoke: "Howdy W.R.; Merry Christmas."

"How are you doing, Hank?"

"I'm tired, but the business is too good to stop. Most of my competition is off tonight, and I just had another call for a flat repair."

Cathy introduced herself and asked: "So, what do you think?"

"I'll give you a hundred dollars for it."

W.R. quickly responded: "The tires are almost new; you'll get twice that much for selling them used."

"Yeah, but I'll have to put them on, so there's labor involved."

Pausing, Hank offered another price: "I'll give you another fifty, but I won't go any higher."

Cathy looked at W.R. with a questioning look on her face. He nodded "yes", but she was hesitant.

W.R. waited, but Hank quickly responded: "You're killing me. As it is, I won't make much money."

W.R. replied: "Maybe not, but she's probably losing money."

"Okay, I'll give you one hundred seventy five, but that's my final offer."

Cathy quickly responded: "I'll take it; I even have the title."

"I don't need it, but I'll take it anyway. You sign it, and I don't have to worry about you reporting it stolen."

Pulling the title from her purse, she signed the back, and handed it to Hank.

"If you have anything in it, you need to get it now. I'll probably tow it before morning,"

Opening the back door, Cathy pulled out a suitcase and two Walmart bags, with wrapped presents. Placing them on the ground, she quickly took the money Hank pulled from his wallet.

Shaking her hand, he said: "It's pleasure doing business with you, but I need to get me a cup of coffee to go and get out of here. There's money to be made."

Quickly shaking W.R.'s hand, he was soon off towards the door of the restaurant.

Cathy stood quietly as he disappeared. W.R. could see her eyes were brimming, so he quickly said: "We need to go put your things in my truck. After that, you can go use the restroom, I'll get us some coffee to go, and we'll be off.

Hank was sitting in the truck, with the engine running, when she returned. The heater warmed the cab, which made him a little drowsy. Taking a sip of coffee, he watched, as she climbed into the passenger seat. Fastening her seat belt, W.R. put the truck in gear, and started from the parking lot.

Cathy was first to speak as Hank accelerated up the entrance ramp on the interstate: "I want to thank you for your help. I figured the car was total loss and I'd get nothing."

W.R. didn't know what to say. It was obvious she had almost nothing to her name, and little more to show for the last two years of her life.

Cathy's laugh surprised W.R. as she commented: "I only paid five hundred for it; and used it for months. Truthfully, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did."

W.R. continued to drive silently, but Cathy was in the mood to talk. He decided she was probably a little nervous and was glad for the company.

"I'll be home in time for Christmas with my mom. She'd have come with Uncle Bill to get me, but he doesn't drive on the highway any more; he broke both his legs last year, while driving to Florida, and is too scared to drive any farther than the grocery store."

"Your mother doesn't drive?"

"She doesn't have a car, and Uncle Bill won't let her drive his pickup. I'm sure he'd have brought her to wire me some money this evening, but he's visiting his daughter. Even then, I doubt they'd find any place open"

W.R. digested the information for a moment. Cathy soon commented: "You need to meet my mother. I think she'd like you."

"What about your father?"

Cathy's response was quick, and full of vehemence: "That sorry bastard is probably in jail, or shacked up with some whore."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Mom left him years ago, and if she hadn't, I'd probably shot him for beating her."

W.R. didn't know what to say, but Cathy did: "She's about your age, and she's still very attractive."

The comment made W.R. nervous, but raised he curiosity. If she was as pretty as her daughter, she might be someone to meet. He'd been lonely, since his divorce, and his life didn't allow much time for dating.

Handing Cathy his cell phone, W.R. advised: "You should call her, and let her know you're on the way."

Cathy felt guilty for a moment. In all that happened, she hadn't called her mother, and all she knew was she was stranded in a truck stop.

"Hi Mom. I found a ride, and I'll be there in a few hours...No, a kind trucker offered me a ride...I know, but I can take care of myself....don't worry, I'll call when I get close....I can walk to the house, it's not that far from the interstate.........okay, but tell your neighbor I'll give them some gas money......I love you, too....Bye.

"She's worried. I can understand that, she hasn't had much luck with men."

Both were silent for the next few hours, except for comments about the traffic, or things of no importance. Cathy eventually nodded off, so W.R. turned on the radio and listened to music as he drove.

When they were getting close to Mobile, W.R. spoke loudly, so Cathy would wake up: "We're almost there. You probably should call your mother."

Cathy woke, took his phone, and stared through the windshield for a few moments, before dialing.

"Hi Mom. We're almost there...I dunno....that's on 65, isn't it?"

Recognizing the interstate number, he told Cathy: "I'm heading north on 65. We can meet her somewhere there."

Cathy continued: "That's that Super Walmart past Airport?....I'll ask."

Turning toward W.R., he quickly answered: "I know where that is."

"Okay...I'll see you, when we get there...Uncle Bill's home?...Great."

For the next few minutes, Cathy talked about how Mobile changed, even in the short few years she was gone. They were soon at their destination, so W.R. pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop. In a few minutes, an older pickup pulled next to the truck.

Looking at the truck for a moment brought a huge smile to Cathy's face. Climbing from the truck, she hurried to meet her mother, who she hugged tightly and kissed on the cheek. Quickly hugging her Uncle Bill, she turned to find W.R. approaching with her suitcase and bags.

"Mom; Uncle Bill; I want y'all to meet W.R."

Both smiled, and held out their hands. W.R. shook both their hands and said: "I'm pleased to meet you."

Cathy's mother responded: "I'm Ellen, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help."

W.R. examined her face, and replied: "It was nothing. It was on the way."

Ellen was pretty, just like Cathy said. Far from young, W.R. could see Cathy in thirty years.

We'd like you to have Christmas dinner with us."

"I appreciate the offer, but I need to keep going. I'm due to deliver my load tomorrow and pick up another for delivery in Dallas in two days."

Cathy pulled a small pad from her purse, quickly wrote down a number and handed it to W.R.

"This is my Mom's number. Call, if you're this way again."

W.R. took the piece of paper, stuck it in his coat pocket, and replied: "It's nice meeting you all, but I need to get going."

Cathy quickly hugged him, and said: "Merry Christmas, Wendell Roberts; and God bless."

W.R. hugged her back, looked at her face, and saw her tears. Turning, he returned to his truck, placed it in gear, and waved as he pulled away. Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw them standing together, and waving in return.

Pulling back on the service road, he was soon on the next entrance ramp and accelerating into the traffic. Rolling down the window, he reached into his pocket and threw the piece of paper out the window.

For a few moments, he regretted what he did, but knew it was best. Turning on the radio, he found a rock station and turned the music up loud. He'd stop a few miles up the road; and continue on, after a short nap. He'd work on his log book tomorrow, while he waited for them to unload his truck.

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Here It Is Again

It's almost Christmas, with the family gatherings, exchanging of gifts, fantastic feasts, and the festivity of the season...but all I can think of at the moment is a sandwich.

Years ago, while working on a highway repair project, I found a small convenience store owned by a well known Italian family. In the back was a deli. It wasn't the most fancy of delis, and there was nowhere to sit.

As I examined the menu behind the counter, the muffaletta caught my eye. I ordered one, paid for my order, and hurried back to the job; eating on the way.

If you like mufalettas, you'll understand the difference between a good, and exceptional mufaletta. This was one that will give you a craving, and a return trip for another. I was hooked, and had many before the project finished.

The store eventually closed. Urban decay, and an older couple's decision, led to the end of an establishment. Like many of the old neighborhood stores, the ending also ended access to exceptional food.

This morning, while watching a food show, a chef showed the preparation of a mufalleta. The olive spread, fine smoked meats, and cheeses were added to a perfect mufalleta roll. My mouth started watering, and a memory returned.

So, with all the Christmas foods soon to be tasted, all I can think of is a mufaletta. I have the feeling I won't have one during this holiday, but if I do, I'll enjoy every bite..

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Maybe Something Else

From what the media reports, Sessions is not doing much, and his recusal from the Russian collusion investigation infuriated many people. That may be true, but there is the possibility he's baited his traps, and waiting. There are some people involved with the investigation that were probably known to be less than trustworthy, and giving them the opportunity to attempt to cover misdeeds may end with some really nasty characters finding they're on trial for a gamut of crimes.

Time will tell. 

Sunday, December 17, 2017

I Wonder How This Will Turn Out

According to a lawyer for the Trump transition team, the Mueller investigation received information illegally .  If so, any, if not all of this information, will be determined as inadmissible for any purpose. For a special investigation, that means the methods, and motives, of the investigators will not only be in question, the entire investigation loses all credibility to suspicion of motives beyond the original purpose. With current information showing the original effort of the investigation yielding no results, those involved may now become the focus of another investigation. If they are suspected as criminally culpable in their efforts, indictments will follow, and some high ranking government officials may find the possibility of imprisonment.

I don't know how this will turn out. Current information points to a strong effort to destroy the election of Donald Trump and his Presidency. In a less polite society, that's considered treasonous, and the punishment for those involved brutal.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Another Predator Revealed

After realizing some might find the following horrible, and upsetting, I need to say it's all fiction and part of things I made up. 

Apparently, a much beloved character actor's improprieties were hidden for years, but no more. Who? Yoda.

Yoda, who's real name is Henri Humptemiener, was taking advantage of the women he worked with for years. The French actor known as the gentle, wise benefactor, as portrayed in his roles in the Star Wars series, was constantly causing problems with women he worked with.

As one production assistant related: ..."I still remember the time I was instructed to meet with the attorneys of one of our productions to sign some papers. Henri stepped into the elevator as the door was closing. At that point, he started putting his hands all over me. He was like a spider monkey on steroids, and it took all my strength to keep his hands away."

Another told of walking into Henri's trailer to inform of his next take for a scene. "...There he was, completely naked. When I said "Excuse me" and turned to leave, he blocked the door and tried to put my hand on his member. I was horrified, and will never forget that little green "pickle", which he shook at me like it was a toy. The language he used to proposition me was terrible. I had to force my way out of the trailer, and would never get near him again..."

So, many will have their impressions changed. I'm appalled, but not surprised. Hollywood seems to be a fertile ground for sexual predators, and even the most admired can be those worst of all.

Saturday, December 9, 2017

When Hate Turns Into Insanity

Much of the media hates the President. That's an opinion they can rightfully have, but when it leads to immediate reporting of lies, or fabrications, that hate is best described as insanity. To make things worse, they don't realize their lapse of reasoning, and continue to ignore the fact their opinion is not shared with the majority of the voters. This will lead to less credibility, fewer viewers, and the eventual complete lack of trust.

Logic dictates refraining from such actions, but logic was ignored many years ago by those that think the failed Utopian dreams of a society where everyone has everything they want, never worked in the past; and the millions that died during the experiments of government were innocent victims of insanity.

Friday, December 8, 2017


It's rare for it to snow in my corner of the world. It's even more rare for it to happen this early, which the NWS is reporting as a record.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

It Was Just Paper

The Constitution of the United States was a manual on government operations, until the Bill of Rights was determined as the only way the states would sign the document. Those that just fought the revolution were still apprehensive about any organized government, since the last one had tried to kill them for their civil disobedience.

I think people either forget, or don't realize, the Bill of Rights wasn't something for the citizens to follow, but a mandate of things the government can't do, with certain restrictions on what it can do, and a demand the government not meddle with individual liberty.

I see the Supreme Court is in the process of deciding whether a baker is forced by law to make a cake for a gay couple, even if it's against their personal beliefs. How this actually came to this point is beyond me, since it's obvious even a responsible lower court would never allow such actions, and a state legislature would never introduce laws that cross this boundary.

The Supreme Court is becoming frivolous, and probably inconsequential. In the efforts to legislate from the bench, too many justices became so open minded, their brains fell out, and they didn't realize that any citizenry will react to tyranny in the method it's tried. When words don't work, the next step is never kind.

Time and Distance

Today is December 7, 2017. On this day, 76 years ago, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, killed thousands, and the United States became involved in a war already involving much of the world.

My father turned 18 near the end of the war, and didn't see combat, since the war ended. He was one of many men I knew that lived during that time, and are now long gone. The youngest during that time are approaching the century mark, and their days are numbered on this Earth. Their memories are still fresh, since they were branded by terrible events. 

For those that don't know much, those that fought spent years in brutal war. They fought for many reasons, but most fought without questioning their duty to protect the United States, and it was obvious the United States was under attack.

The distance of time removed the horror most felt after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Time, also, removed the years of blackout curtains, rationing, letters notifying of the loss of a loved one, and the hard work of those that kept the U.S. running, while most resources were being used for the war effort. Things were tough, and without the reference of someone that lived during that time, it's hard to fathom the emotional stress. Reading doesn't replace the expressions of those that suffered.

So, we now have constant Christmas songs on the radio, promises of the best prices for shopping, the daily garbage called news, and an entire sub-culture of people that are perfectly satisfied to live a life of mundane waiting, and the hope they can find a way to use their government stipend for some alcohol and cigarettes.

I'll say a prayer our nation is never forced to travel those straits again. There was no guarantee of winning the war, and the suffering to win was more than too many today could handle.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Fly on the Wall

If I had to guess, I'd guess there are many that work for the government just a few more revelations from panic. If I was a fly on the wall, and could observe some of those under close scrutiny by the public, I have the feeling I'd observe some people in the final stages of finally realizing there is something much stronger than the media becoming angrier every day.

If you think about, not only have influential government officials been directly involved with criminal actions, they've committed more criminal offenses in the effort to hide their actions. That may seem to many as "business as usual". It's not, if enough participate in demanding accountability.

It's obvious the highest law enforcement agency is tainted. Key officials used their power to circumvent the criminal justice system by colluding with justice department officials. While many think there will be no repercussions - and that might have happened in the past - the lack of transparency led to well financed scrutiny. This scrutiny is revealing more than can be covered up by the media, and those involved.

It's time for the honest people in government to stop being afraid of losing their pension, or position. I'm sure there are enough to make a huge difference, and it's their duty to the United States to stop the illegal network of criminal government employees. It's also time for the honest law enforcement officials to make strong efforts to insure whistle blowers are protected from those that will do just about anything to protect what they acquired through criminal actions.

Monday, December 4, 2017

Loss of Tolerance

I've been a tolerant person during my life. Maybe it was the way I was raised, or maybe my experience, but tolerance for new ideas, and things, was how I rolled.

I've lost that. I think it's because too many new ideas cost me money, or are an affront to my morals; and those with "innovative" opinions are as crazy as shit house rats.

So, I find myself avoiding even family members that are Liberal/Progressive/Socialist. They don't realize the supposedly innovative ideas they embrace killed millions, and destroyed the economies of countries the size of the United States. Their ignorance only shows they'd rather trade liberty for a free meal.

Sunday, December 3, 2017


One of Muellor's team of supposedly special investigators was fired for their possible anti-Trump tweets. This makes me wonder if the team, which is filled with people loyal to Clinton, is much more than a huge waste of money by political hacks. They've only managed to confirm the FBI used a fabricated document to try to derail Trump's presidency, and ignored the DNC effort to use their political power to steal an election.

Special councils have a specific purpose, but always seem to spend huge amounts of money chasing their tails. In the end, politicians, and their minions, manage to escape prosecution, and justice is left in the gutter.