Democracy in Action, USA-Style

 

by Pa Rock

Vagabond

I am doing laundry at my hotel this morning to eat up some time before I go crashing in on my grandchildren.  I know they got home late last night, and teenagers need their rest!

I planned the entire trip around  tourist attire - shorts, tee-shirts, socks and sandals, and have plenty still clean that would easily last until I get home, but I was getting tired of looking at the growing pile of dirty clothes, so this was a good opportunity to catch up.  The hotel has one coin-operated washer and dryer, and they happen to be next door to my room.  It's as if the Clothes God was speaking to me directly!

Canadian radio features a wide variety of early morning talk shows, so I picked up on some cultural cues and I was driving and listening.  One story was about ankle socks for men, which is what I wear with my sandals.  Apparently ankle socks are now out of fashion and the long tube socks are back.  That works for me - I live for being out of fashion!

There were also several news stories while I was in Canada focused on the death of Canadian actor, and one of my personal favs, Donald Sutherland.  He had so many great roles.  Sutherland and Jane Fonda also did an anti-Vietnam War tour of the Far East during the early 1970's, and they had held a rally on Okinawa just before I arrived for my first assignment there in 1972.  Bob Hope also did his last Vietnam Era USO show in 1972 and was on Okinawa  just before I got there as well.

One thing that seemed to be ignored on the Canadian news was the US presidential race.  So I am playing catch-up with that now.  The first debate is this week, an event that will mark the end of any significance to which the national political conventions might have been clinging.  Now the presidential nominees are selected by a handful of political power brokers in a few "early" states, and the rest of the nation can deal with what they give us - or go pound sand.  So Thursday evening anyone one who wants to can tune in and root for their favorite geriatric, both of whom are twenty years or more past their prime, neither of whom enjoys majority support from the American public, and one of whom is insane and a convicted felon.   Democracy in action, USA-style!

The clothes are in the dryer and my first day in Salem is about to begin.  More later.

My Oregon Trail Ended in Salem Earlier Today

 

by Pa Rock

Road Warrior

My summer roadtrip hit the halfway mark late this afternoon when I arrived in Salem, the capital of Oregon.  Right now my plan is to turn around on Tuesday morning at begin a considerably shorter route back to Kansas and Missouri.

No road problems today.  I began the morning early in Sandpoint in the Idaho Panhandle, drove south to Couer d'Alene, an extremist encampment posing as a civilized little city, and then headed west into Washington where I sliced across the southeast corner of the state before finally reaching and crossing the Columbia River and entering Oregon near the eastern edge of the state.   I drove Interstate 84 across the top of Oregon to Portland, one of my favorite drives.  It runs next to the Columbia River most of the way, and for about the last third of that passage there are some stunning views of Mt. Hood.  

Woody Guthrie said it best:  "Roll on, Columbia, roll on!"

The Kia Soul and I arrived in Portland about three in the afternoon where I was not expecting Saturday traffic to be heavy, but it was - from Portland all the way down to Salem.  I don't believe in making hotel reservations - figuring that places should keep an empty room for me just in case I show up - so the hotel where I always stay in Salem was full, and I drove down the road and found a better one.  

My daughter and her family, whom I came here to see, were in Missouri visiting other relatives when I left on Monday, and I thought they would be here on Friday, or Saturday at the latest.  It turns out that when I arrived in Salem earlier today, they were at the airport in Oklahoma getting ready to fly home.  So they will be in late tonight and I will interrupt their unpacking sometime tomorrow afternoon.

"Let me in, let me in!  I'm bearing gifts!"

For those who know my Cousin Joyce, or know of her, she and I had a very nice visit in Sandpoint, Idaho, yesterday afternoon.  That was my third visit to the beautiful tourist town in the Idaho Panhandle that offers everything from snow skiing in the mountains to boating and recreating on one of the most beautiful lakes in North America, and Cousin Joyce always goes out of her way to make the visits interesting.  Yesterday afternoon we sat on the patio of a restaurant on Lake Pend Orielle watching the boaters enjoy a warm afternoon on the water - and also had a nice meal - loaded baked potatoes - while we were there.  I'm sure that Dan and Siss Sreaves of Seneca, Missouri, would have been pleased to know that their grandchildren are staying in touch with one another.   Thanks, Joyce.  It was so good to see you!

I think that I will visit Yellowstone Park on the way home and make sure that Old Faithful is still working!   I've heard a rumor that Big Orange might turn the national park into a golf course and exclusive club if he gets a second term - and that might involve the Army Corps of Engineers having to come in and cap off Old Faithful.  Saved the geysers!  Vote Blue!  (Driving through Couer d'Alene this morning got me politically agitated!)

More later.

Sandpoint, USA

 

by Pa Rock

Road Warrior

I'm safely back in the good old USA after three days of crossing Canada's very beautiful and monotonous Prairie Provinces.  Today I finally made it to the Rocky Mountains and crossed at a place called "Crowsnest."  The mountain drive was spectacular!  I returned to the US around noon today through the border crossing at the little Canadian town of Yahk, British Columbia, which brought me into the Idaho Panhandle.

The Panhandle is full of gun-toting Trump crazies, but it is also extremely scenic with one of the country's largest and deepest freshwater lakes, and mountains that form a major skiing destination in the winter.  As you drive south into the Idaho Panhandle from Canada, Sandpoint is the second small city along the way, and it is a place of incomparable scenic beauty.  My favorite cousin lives in Sandpoint in the summers, and this is my third visit to her town.  We will be having dinner later this evening and catching up - and tomorrow I will be back on the road heading toward Oregon.

(As a bit of local color, Sandpoint is the birthplace of Sarah Palin.)

I had a couple of close calls on the road today, no accidents, but near misses, so I am ready to get some rest tonight and hopefully start out a lot fresher tomorrow.

For my friends in the Noel area, I crossed "Elk River" three times in British Columbia today!

More tomorrow.

Lost in Calgary During Rush Hour!

 

by Pa Rock

Road Warrior

Despite the fact that I drove just over 500 miles today and got hopelessly lost in Calgary, Alberta, one of Canada's largest city's, during the evening rush hour, I still managed to have a fairly good day.  (Six lanes of madness was still better than Bentonville, Arkansas, on a Friday evening!). Yes, I did leave Moose Jaw this morning just before 7:00 a.m. headed in the wrong direction on Canada 1, but after managing to get turned around most, of the day went well.  I fit in several brief stops along the way, including a visit at the Alberta Welcome Center and several small shops where I looked for gifts for the grandkids.  Willow, I've got you covered!.

(I was even more lost this afternoon than I thought I was.  This piece was originally titled "Lost in Edmonton During Rush Hour."  The city I was lost in was Calgary!  No wonder I had trouble finding my way out of it!)

Here are a few road observations:

There is no litter in Canada, at least along Canada's Highway #1 - nary a gum wrapper or a cigarette butt, much less things that are considered common on Missouri roadways like beer cans, dirty diapers, and my personal favorite, worn-out mattresses.   I passed several long trains today that were carrying mostly grain and petroleum products, and I noticed that there is almost no "tagging," where artists, some of them very talented, spray paint their work on boxcars.    One day recently I sat at a railroad crossing in West Plains and noticed that almost every car was tagged.  Also, what I call "double-trucks" - semi tractors pulling two full-sized trailers - are fairly common in Canada.  There aren't many billboards, at least in the western provinces, and most a located further back from the highways than the ones in the states are.

I came upon a septic tank pumper truck today that had a sign on the back which read "Caution;  Contents may contain political promises."

I heard two radio stations today where the deejays were speaking their Native American languages.  One played country music and the other featured classic rock.  Tomorrow is Aboriginal Rights day in Canada, and all of the radio stations were playing that up today.

The people that I have encountered in Canada have been extraordinarily nice.  Yesterday evening I stopped at a gas station to fill-up for the next day's travel, and two attendants came out to wait on me.  A young man ran the pump, and an older gentleman washed my windows.  I had the window down and was listening to them chatter at they worked.  The young man said, to me "Missouri," using the long "e" sound at the end of the word, and the older guy said, "No, that's "Missouri" and used the "uh"should at the end.  I told him that he had pronounced it like a native Missourian.  Then I asked if he had ever been there, and he said that he hadn't. He apparently was just a good listener.

As I left that gas station and pulled out into the road I ran over a raised concrete median that I had not seen - with all of the attendant scraping and clanking, so now those guys also think that people from Missouri are idiots, or possibly worse - they may think I am a member of the Missouri legislature!  Miraculously, there was no damage done to my little car, but my ego was in tatters.

Today I stopped for lunch at a McDonald's in Medicine Hat, Alberta.    It was a few minutes before noon, and the place was basically empty.  It looks like McDonald's is not the draw in Canada that it is in the US.  I also turned around in the city of Swift Current in the parking lot of a very small Walmart, so perhaps the Walton's are not as important here as they are in Red State America.  As I was standing in the parking lot of the McDonald's in Medicine Hat and surreptitiously trying to give myself an insulin injection in the stomach without attracting the attention of the local police, a young man walked behind he toward the eatery and said, "You are a long way from home."  (He had obviously seen my license plate.)   "Yes, I am," I replied."  "Are you having a good trip?"  "Yes I am.  Thank you for asking."  He was a very nice and pleasant person.  The lady in the Welcome Center for Alberta was very cordial and pleasant, and so to all of the hotel clerks whom I have dealt with since crossing the international border.

I heard on the radio as I was driving through Saskatchewan (a huge province) this morning that it's new population figure for the entire province in 1,230,000 - and it increased by 30,000 during the last year.  Perhaps the political refugees from the United States are already arriving!

Right now I am thinking that I may skip Glacier National Park, truly an American wonder, and cross the mountains in Canada and enter the US through the Idaho panhandle sometime tomorrow afternoon. If I do perhaps Cousin Joyce and I can enjoy a meal together tomorrow evening.  I'll call when I cross the border, Joyce.

And speaking of enjoying a meal, it's time for dinner and I am within walking distance of several eating establishments - so I'll give the car - and the concrete medians - a rest!

More tomorrow.

Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan

 

by Pa Rock

Road Warrior

My goal today was to reach Saskatoon, which was to have been the furthest point north on the trip, and I left Brandon, Manitoba, this morning with that goal in my tired old head.  But a few miles down the road I began to realize how road-weary I am, and I changed plans.  Instead of heading north to Saskatoon when I reached Regina, I opted to stay on Canada 1, and visit Moose Jaw, which had always been my back-up plan anyway.  Aside from just being tired of driving, I am also beginning to really miss Rosie, and this change of plans should shorten my trip by a day.  We'll see how that works out.

The time moved back an hour when I crossed into Saskatchewan, so I wound up getting to Moose Jaw before noon.  I've already explored the town, kinda-sorta, and unpacked into a pricey room at the Best Western.  Last night I opted to stay on-the-cheap in Brandon, Manitoba, and rented a room at Motel 6, a place which comes highly recommended by Tom Bodett.  I have stayed at Motel 6 before, though never in Brandon, and knew what I was getting into - so shame on me.  The shower worked, and that was about the only positive that I noted.  The television didn't work, neither did the clock radio, the breakfast bar was sad, and the noise from rowdy guests never stopped.  Tonight I am paying a third more for twice the peace and comfort.  Tom, as far as I'm concerned, you can turn the light off.

I stopped at a Tim Horton's for a breakfast snack this morning, since Motel 6 didn't meet my minimal standards for the first meal of the day.  Today was my first time at a Tim Horton's, and it was a good experience.  Canada uses paper drink straws, which I like.  Also, when I pulled into a "Neighbor's" quick stop for gas, a very nice Native American young man rushed out and filled my tank.  He washed my windshield while the tank was filling.  I did that same line of work when I was around sixteen, and I remember it as being an interesting and generally good work experience.

And speaking of work experience, two nights ago I had dinner at a chain restaurant in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  It was a fairly busy establishment with one person working in the kitchen, one person serving the dining customers, and a child running the cash register who could not have been more that twelve-years-old.  I know that several rural and backward state legislatures are lowering age work requirements to bring children into the workforce, and I suspect that kid may have been working legally.  I had to help him in counting my change.  Children are being pushed out of schools and into jobs to help employers make more money as they screw the kids' parents out of living wages.  It is blatantly unethical and immoral.

The weather was very nice this morning, but about an hour before I reached Moose Jaw the rains started again.  Fortunately there was nothing as torrential as what I have experienced the past two days.

Tomorrow I am headed to Medicine Hat, Alberta, and from there will begin drifting south or southwest into the Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park area on the Canada-US border - perhaps that far, perhaps farther.  It depends on which way the wind is blowing.

Time for a nap!

The Watery Road From Watertown

 

by Pa Rock

Weary Road Warrior

The trip into Watertown, South Dakota, yesterday was rain-soaked, with water falling from the sky so fast that it was hard to see the road.  Today, I reasoned, things had to be better.  But as I was starting to load the car around 6:00 a.m. I noticed that the sky was seriously overcast and looked to be threatening a repeat of yesterday's gully washer.  I pulled out at 7:00 a.m. on the dot, and spent a few minutes on the interstate enjoying the sights, including a large wind farm on both sides of the road, but by 7:15 the rain started.    The first round, twenty minutes or so, was just a standard heavy rain, but after it had subsided for a few minutes, Round Two blew in, and it was another colossal water event.  By 8:30 I was in Fargo and things had settled down, and I was back to looking at the flat lands of the Dakotas and their fine assortment of stylish granaries.

(If Governor Burgum can afford to buy a vice presidential nomination, as he appears to be preparing to do, surely he could cough up enough coin to bring in some crop dusters and paint the extremely boring western edge of his state some outrageous color.  Outlining the granaries in holiday lights would also add a little zest to the place!  Give it some thought, Doug.)

I hit the Canadian border at straight-up noon.  That particular crossing had about ten lanes, but only one was open, so I had to wait in a line for twenty minutes or so.  This was the first time that I had driven into Canada since the 1980's, so I was unsure what would be needed.    As I finally got to the open booth, I had my passport, car title, and proof of insurance ready, but all the young lady asked for was the passport.  She asked me if I was visiting Canada and wanted to know if I was bringing in any alcohol, pot, guns, or knives.  When I answered "no," she sent me on the way.

US Interstate 29, which I took from Kansas City yesterday goes all the way to the Canadian border, and on the Canadian side it becomes Canada 75 and is, for the most part, better maintained than its US cousin.  I haven't looked it up, but I am supposing that US Interstate 29 is the newer version of Highway 71 which used to run from Canada to south Louisiana. From KC to Canada it is basically straight and boring, much like driving across western Kansas or most of Texas.

Canada 75 leads from the border to Winnipeg, sixty-some miles - except in Canada they use these things called kilometers instead of miles,  But it was sixty-some miles according to my speedometer which uses the King's English.  (As I pulled onto Canada 75, the first road sign that I saw said "Maximum:  100."  Hot damn, I thought, I'll be in Saskatoon in no time!  But again it was those pesky kilometers and I had to restrain my heavy gas pedal foot.)

It wasn't a quick trip to Winnipeg because a long portion of the four-lane road was restricted to just two due to road work.  I didn't get to see much of Winnipeg because almost as soon as I reached the edge of the city, I saw the exit to Brandon, which I knew was on my route, and rather than risk not being able to find it again, I exited then - earlier than I had planned.  

I had intended to spend the night in Winnipeg, but once I was on the road to Brandon, Canada 1, a nice thoroughfare that skips many of the  small towns, I couldn't find anyplace to stay.  I finally. wound up driving all the way to Brandon which is over 200 kilometers form Winnipeg - or, for you non-Canadian speakers, more than a hundred and twenty-five miles.  I have done about five hundred miles per day the last two days, but tomorrow I am going to slow it down:  Saskatoon is around 385 miles from Brandon (620 kilometers), and if I can make that, I will drop anchor there before turning and heading south when my strength builds back up!

Manitoba, where I have been driving all afternoon, was almost as boring as North Dakota for the first hundred miles or so, but then the flatlands suddenly gave way to some hills and evergreen trees, and the last hour or so of the drive was pleasantly scenic.  Manitoba is the fitth Canadian province that I have visited (Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, Alberta - barely, and British Columbia).  Tomorrow I will add Saskatchewan to that list.  I would really like to see the Atlantic provinces sometime, but now I am playing 'beat the clock!'

Time for a nap and then I still have to dispose of the undertaker.  Last night things got sidetracked with a dispute between a couple of the other characters - over a sewing machine of all things!  If they would all just sit quietly and wait their turns, maybe I could get their story wrapped up!

My mantra for the rest of the trip:  "No rain!  No rain!  No rain!"

The Watery Road to Watertown

 

by Pa Rock

Weary Road Warrior

The first day on the road out of Kansas City was a fairly pleasant drive and generally without incident.  I took a couple of wrong turns but got straightened out quickly each time, and managed to log 484 miles.  Tonight I am in Watertown, South Dakota, about a hundred and fifteen miles south of Fargo, North Dakota.  Barring a catastrophic event, I will be in Canada tomorrow afternoon.

I was on the road 265 miles this morning driving in very pleasant weather, then the rain began.  It was on and off for a couple of hours, but after lunch in Sioux Falls and a stop at the gas station, I had just gotten back on Interstate 29 again when the heavens opened.  There was a massive downpour for about thirty minutes.  Several drivers pulled over, but not me - because I'm from Missouri and don't know any better!   Later I heard people on the Sioux Falls radio station discussing the torrential rain.  They said that it was so dark and onerous that all of the city street lights came on at about 1:30 p.m.  The weather  forecast is calling for scattered rain and showers tomorrow.

I haven't seen any murdered puppies in South Dakota, but I am hopeful of spotting a wood-chipper or two  in Fargo!

I spotted the first billboard advertising Wall Drug when I was 349 miles out of Kansas - and the second one five miles later.  I won't  be going by Wall Drug this trip, but it is a tourist trap that has lured many a traveler off of the interstate - and from there it is just an average frisbee toss to an amazing scenic drive through the Badlands.

Tomorrow will mark my first visit to North Dakota, so I will be able to color that state in on my Junior Achievement wall map.  I understand that it is a place where a person with enough money can still buy a governorship.  (Bezos is moving to Florida.  Maybe he will buy that one.)

I am using my motel evenings to finish a long piece of fiction which I have been working on forever.  Tonight I will be killing off an undertaker who dies when he either jumps or is thrown from a second story hospital window and lands on a bicycle.  Don't tell him, though, because I want it to be a surprise!

More tomorrow.

Father's Day Recap

 

by Pa Rock

Happy Camper

It has been a very nice Father's Day.  This was the first one in over three decades in which I got to see all three of my children  - ages 50, 47, and and 44 - so they really are getting a bit too long in the teeth to be referred to as "children."  But it's all a matter of perspective, and from my perspective  they are youngsters!   All three are healthy and seem relatively happy, and they are all well-directed in their lives.

I also saw five of my six grandchildren today, so, as Father's Days go, this one was a raging success.    The sixth grandchild (who is actually the first) has a driver's license and his own car, and he really needs to come see his old Granddad.  Take a hint, Boone!

Rosie and I drove to Kansas City very early this morning, and tomorrow morning I will hit the road heading north.   Winnipeg is a mere twelve hours away, straight north.  I will try to post trip updates every day on the blog, probably late in the evening.   Rosie will be staying with Tim and Erin, but she won't be told until in the morning - and I will be in SO much trouble when I finally get back!

I am traveling without a set itinerary, so all suggestions on places to stop along the way will be welcome. You can post them as comments to the blog.   Right now my general plan is to take a big swing into Manitoba and Saskatchewan and then come back down into Montana or Idaho and head on to Oregon, with a more direct route coming home.  

More tomorrow.

Happy Trails!

Jason Smith, Another Year Older

by Pa Rock

Missouri Voter

My bachelor congressman, Jason Smith of Missouri’s very rural 8^th district, is turning forty-four today.  Smith, a Republican (of course) has been in Congress for just over a decade and serves in one of the safest and most conservative districts in the United States.   Should he choose to serve fifty more years, he would most likely go on getting elected, especially now that he has survived his freshman mistakes.
 
Rep. Smith was elevated to Chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee at the beginning of the current session, a fact that he conveys at least a half-dozen times in each of his weekly email newsletters.   And while the Missouri congressman has a position of power in the current Congress, he manages to spend much more time complaining about the Biden family that he does in actual legislating - and his prolonged investigations into the Bidens has produced no more significant results than those of the other two Republican committee chairs who have been relentlessly barking up the same tree.
 
It would be nice if members of Congress were as concerned with meeting the needs of those they were elected to serve as they are with political maneuvering and grabbing headlines.

One thing my congressman is good at is worming his way onto television news shows, but only if they are on Fox or Newsmax.  He does not do “town halls,” and seems to actively avoid situations where he might be put on the spot and asked hardball questions by real journalists or constituents that would require thinking on his feet and unscripted answers.
 
Jason, like his idol Donald Trump, whines incessantly and seems to always be unhappy.  I hope he can change that, especially on his birthday.
 
Have a great one, Congressman Smith!  Go do something fun in the sun!

 

Missouri Bombs are Killing Palestinian Children

 

by Pa Rock

Missouri Citizen Journalist

According to an exceptionally detailed article in yesterday's edition of The KC Defender, a quality, independent news source from the Kansas City area, bombs and delivery systems made in Missouri are being used by the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) in their unrelenting, barbaric attacks on the people of Gaza, attacks which have killed thousands of innocent civilians, many of them children.  (More that 15,000 children have died as a result of the war in Gaza so far.)

The article was written by Ryan Sorrell, the founder and executive editor of The KC Defender, and it was entitled "Headless Children, Melting Bodies:   Missouri Weapons Facilities Produce Bombs Deployed in Rafah Massacre and UN School Massacre of Palestinians."   Much of the article was based on original reporting from CNN, The New York Times, and Al Jazeera.

The two attacks covered in Mr. Sorrell's article were extremely bloody examples of unleashed savagery in an on-going genocide, and the fact that they brought death and injury to so many children made them especially horrifying.    The attacks have been dissected and talked about in the press in great detail.   This new reporting broadens the public understanding of the carnage by looking at the history of the missiles and bombs that tore those terrified and malnourished bodies apart.  

The devices (missiles and bombs) are called the "GBU-39," or "Small Diameter Bomb 1" and they exclusively use an F-15E delivery system.  The bombs and their delivery systems are both made in the St. Louis area by Boeing and sold by the United States to Israel - and they are used to kill children in Gaza with alarming success.   Those armaments are currently being "fast-tracked" to Israel by the US.

(Perhaps if Boeing were to back off of it armaments business and focus on passenger planes, the American flying public wouldn't feel the need to bring along duct tape every time they board a Boeing aircraft!)

War is a shitty business.  Making money by killing children is obscene and immoral beyond all measure!

Boeing's stockholders should rise in open revolt!

Red line, Joe.  Red line!  Where the hell is the red line?

Too Damned Old to be President

 

by Pa Rock

Disgusted Voter

Donald John Trump is turning seventy-eight years old today.  He is too damned old to be President of the United States - and he primarily speaks gibberish.  Distill from that what you will.

If either of the major political parties had the courage to run a whip-smart forty-year-old this year, they would win the presidency in a cakewalk.

I read today that state judges in Arizona are required to retire at the age of seventy.  What a sensible solution to the problem of old people trying to cling to power.    Seventy would be the ideal age for judges, members of Congress, Presidents, and even Supreme Court justices to pack it in and retire.  

Happy birthday, Donald, and I really mean that.  We all know you would rather be playing golf than worrying about a campaign, but staying out of jail requires great personal sacrifice.  Have a wonderful day and enjoy a Big Mac or three on donations to your election racket.

One of Those Days!

 

by Pa Rock

Bloody Fool

Today was supposed to have gone according to schedule.   I am leaving for an extended road trip on Sunday, and for the last several days I have been carefully checking things off of a list in preparation for that excursion.  I have been to the phone store and made sure that I can still use my phone in the event I cross an international border, and I have been to see my insurance agent also with concerns centered on driving into Canada.  Our new dog has chewed up one of each of the two pairs of shoes that I routinely wear, so I have gotten those replaced.  I bought plenty of (US) postcard stamps, so I am ready to send my grandkids some views of my trip, and I got the car serviced early this week.   Yesterday I completed a two-day siege (six-and-a-half hours total) of getting the yard mowed.  

My son did all of the weed-eating after he got off work, and today the yard looks beautiful!  Thanks, Nick!

Today I was going to get the car filled with gas, buy some road trip groceries, and begin packing - and I probably will get most of that done before the sun sets, but the day started with a radical detour.

One of my first activities every morning is to get dressed in yesterday's dirty clothes and take the dogs for their walks.  It is a really big deal for them and for me, because I use that dog-walking duty to log about 5,000 steps onto my pedometer - half of the daily goal of 10,000 steps.  This morning I was sitting on the side of my tall iron bed listening to a newscast from NPR and putting on my footwear Michael Stivik-style (putting one sock and one shoe on one foot, and then moving to the second foot and repeating the process),   When I had completed the right foot and turned to concentrate on the left, I focused on a small, shiny black scab, shaped like a little round bb, that has been on my ankle for a month of so and never caused me any problem.  Today, God knows why, I decided to pick it off.

And the blood came forth like an oil well gusher!    It flowed, and oozed, and poured in copious amounts, immediately covering my foot and leaving big, wet stain on the carpet.  I used the sock that I had planned to put on the foot to try and staunch the flow, but the sock was quickly drenched in blood and it just kept flowing.  (I regularly take two blood-thinners, baby aspirin and Plavix.)

Of course I was home alone.

Not knowing what to do, I did the sensible thing of tracking the blood through most of the house as I gathered up tissue and paper towels and rags and other things to try and keep blood in my body.  Finally I decided that I probably should go to the Emergency Room at the hospital - about three miles from my house.  I put the other sandal - the one the dog had chewed on - on the bare, bleeding foot and squished my way to the car.  I had been smart enough to grab my keys and wallet on the way out of the house, but once I had squished my way to the car, I realized that I had forgotten my phone.  I thought "I am in an emergency situation here, and I really should have my phone."  So I squished my way back into the house and got it.

I made it to the hospital without incident - and without passing out - and parked in the lot of the Emergency Room.  By the time I arrived the carpet on driver's side of the car was soaked in blood, and as I got out and headed to the door, which was about thirty feet away, I left blood on the parking lot and all along the sidewalk.  Once inside, I also left tracks on the floor and a sizable pool of blood on the floor next to the reception desk.  All of that was from a wound that was literally not much larger than a pin prick.)

The ER staff was wonderful - as they had been on my two previous broken-arm visits - and they quickly had me on a bed in an exam room, and a doctor was at my side surprisingly soon.  He said the scab had been attacked to a very small varicose vein and hence the eruption.  He gave me one fancy stitch and said to have it removed in eight or ten days.  No, he said, it should not wait until after my trip, and the best thing to do would be to stop at an "Urgent Care" somewhere along the way to have the stitch removed.

They were still mopping up my blood inside of the Emergency Room as I was leaving thirty minutes later, and a three-man crew was also outside washing down the sidewalk and the parking lot around my car.  I apologized to everyone sincerely and profusely for screwing up their morning.

As I got into my car I was still wearing a dry sock and a sandal on my right foot, but on my left I had a long hospital sock,  I got behind the wheel, placed my feet firmly on the floor, and felt the blood oozing up from the floor and into the hospital sock.  Driving home many of my thoughts were the the deeply philosophical talk that Michael Stivik and his father-in-law, Archie Bunker, had about whether the proper way to dress was to put on both socks and then both shoes (Archie-style), or one sock and then the shoe (Michael-style).  I had gone with the Michael-style and knew that I could at least hop into the house when I got home without making a bigger mess, an argument much like Michael's from a half-century earlier when he had argued that in case of a fire, if he had just one sock and shoe on he could hop to safety, and Archie, just wearing socks, would get his feet burned.

The mind wanders when you have lost a lot of blood, and I figured that I was at least a quart low!

As I neared my house, I had to drive around an a truck with flashing lights that was parked by the side of the road and where workmen were apparently working on the power lines.  When I got home the power was off.

Of course the stinking power was off.  It was one of those days!

Honest Republicans: A Disappearing Breed

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

I was never a big fan of former House Speaker Paul Ryan, he is too conservative for my tastes.  But, his right-wing political views aside, Ryan is a decent man who never hesitated to put the good of his country above his own personal interests.  This week Paul Ryan, who is also a former GOP Vice Presidential candidate and a member of the Fox Corporation Board of Directors, spoke out about the current GOP presumptive presidential candidate, Donald Trump, in an interview with Neil Cavuto on Fox News, and in that interview Paul Ryan referred to Trump as "unfit for office."

Ryan, who calls Trump a "populist" rather than a "conservative," said that instead of being focused on the ideals of conservatism, Trump remains for focused on himself.

The former Speaker of the House also said that he would not be voting for Trump or Biden, but would instead write-in some other Republican for President this November as he did in 2020.   Ryan said that he had voted for Trump in 2016, hoping that he would be successful in the office, but that by 2020 he recognized Trump's failings in office.

Republican politicians eager to win Trump's favor were quick to lambast Paul Ryan for stating his honest views - on Fox News of all places!  GOP Rep. Troy Nehls of Texas, as an example, called Ryan "a piece of garbage."

But the harshest reaction to Ryan and his remarks on Trump came from Trump himself, a man who does not take criticism well.  The former reality television personality and convicted felon had this to say about the former GOP Speaker of the US House of Representatives:

"Rupert Murdoch should fire pathetic RINO Paul Ryan from the Board of Fox.  Ryan is a loser, always has been, and always will be.  He was the WEAKEST & MOST INCOMPETENT Speaker of the House in history.  Fox will sink to the absolute bottom of the pack if Paul Ryan has anything to do with it."

There doesn't seem to be many honest Republicans left with the courage to speak up about the populist cancer that is eating their party.  Paul Ryan left the circus a couple of years ago, and speaks now as a private citizen.  Mitt Romney, who was the last GOP presidential nominee (2012) before the Age of Trump, has been shunted out of his seat in the Senate by the Trump firebrands in the party and now has the political freedom to issue the occasional criticism of the party's egomaniacal leader.  Nikki Haley, Trump's former Ambassador to the United Nations and a former GOP governor of South Carolina, loosed several broadsides against  Trump while she ran against him for President earlier this year, but she has since withdrawn from the race and dutifully drank the kool-aid and says she will vote for him in November.  And there is also the proud "never-Trumper" Liz Cheney whose enthusiastic work with the House January 6th Committee earned her Trump's enduring wrath and ultimately caused her to be defeated in her reelection bid to Congress.    Ms. Cheney left Washington, DC, unemployed but unbowed, and she continues to shine the bright light of reason on the (now) convicted felon and his cultish followers.

There are a few other independent thinkers in the Republican Party, including a handful of senators who voted against Trump in his second impeachment trial, the one that resulted from the insurrection, but the vast majority of GOP officials are still lining up to kiss Trump's ring and declare their undying loyalty, much as German political sycophants did in the 1930's.

Most politicians in the Republican Party have attached themselves to Trump like barnacles on the Titanic, and any member who fails to come on board is out.   One hundred percent fealty is demanded, and anything less gets you branded as a RINO and sent home to Wyoming.

Trump, who turns 78 tomorrow, is massively unhealthy and won't be around forever.  What will happen to the zombie passengers and rats when his ship finally sinks, barnacles and all?

I am reminded of that famous jacket worn by an immigrant to the United States during her tenure as First Lady.  It read:  "I really don't care.  Do U?"

It's easy not to care, but someday the nation will have to begin the very hard work of cleaning up Trump's mess, and it's very likely to get much worse before it gets better.  So yeah, I do care, and so should we all, regardless of our party affiliation.

Spreading the Manure of the Bull

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

As I left he grocery store yesterday afternoon I stepped into the parking lot and came directly upon a nice pickup truck with a carefully hand-printed sign in the back window of the cab that read:  "Trump 2024:  No More Bull Shit."   The truck appeared to have been parked just outside of the store's main entrance deliberately so as to draw as much attention as possible to its owner's political message.

I wasn't offended, or even surprised, because in this area you routinely come across things that are so much worse.  (I even saw the "F" word connected to the current President's last name in large letters in a truck window a few months ago, and I guess I'm okay with that.  Trump says he's coming back, so we might as well get used to living in a sewer,)

The sign yesterday had been carefully crafted, it was not a slapdash affair.  Someone had taken their time in painting it onto the cab's back window in white shoe polish.  I did note that the sign painter  chose to make "bull shit" two words instead of the more standard single word.  I suspect that is because as one word, and being eight letters long, there was a fear by the painter of being dubbed an "intellectual," which is a fighting word in these parts.

Donald Trump used the word "bullshit" at a rally in Dream City, a large, right-wing mega church in Phoenix last week.  Joe Biden had signed an executive order to place some restrictions on immigrants entering the country - since Republican members of Congress at the behest of Trump had refused to do so.  Trump, who is desperate to use the racial animus and bigotry stirred up by immigration in his campaign, commented about Biden's executive order in the Phoenix church and referred to it as "bullshit."  To his obvious delight, members of the audience then began chanting "bullshit," and he smiled, laughed, and encouraged them to continue.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, praise Jesus, and pass the collection plate!  Doesn't Trump's version of Christianity just warm you to the core!

And now, less than a week later, the manure of the bull has spread across the back windows of pickup trucks in rural Missouri.  It's a movement of more than just the bowels of the bull.  Trump's bullshit is redefining Christianit in America, and it stinks to High Heaven!

Fertilizing our lawns and gardens this year would just be redundant.  Donald has us covered.

Pot Crisis on Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Sooner or later hard times come for everyone, even those whose breaths are routinely drawn from the crisp and clean ocean breezes of Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket, Massachusetts.

Marijuana, both for medical as well as recreational use, has been legal in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for several years, as it is in about half of the United States, but it inexplicably remains illegal in the overall US as detailed by federal law.  So far the feds are overlooking the states where it is legal, but issues arise when the product is moved from state to state, and particularly if it crosses federal property or states where it is not legal.  

Some states are not self-contained and have part of their territory in the form of islands that are out to sea and across waterways controlled by the federal government.  Can they transport their "legal" pot from their mainland territory to their island territory across federal routes and waterways?    Nothing seems to be settled yet, probably because the entire notion of something being legal in the states that is not legal in the country still appears to be mired in legal limbo.   But the different states are proceeding to tackle the issue in different manners, with most finding some way to justify having pot on their islands as well as their mainlands.  (California, as an example, passed a state law that specifically allows pot to be transported to Catalina Island for sale in the stores there.)

But a problem has developed in Massachusetts where the agency that oversees the use of marijuana in the Commonwealth, the Cannabis Control Commission, has balked and now has concerns that transporting pot across an ocean expanse may run afoul of federal laws - and the commission has temporarily halted the process.

Martha's Vineyard, the larger of the two islands, has two pot dispensaries.   One has already closed because it has run out of weed, and the other says it will be shut down by September.   Some island residents have been reduced to hopping on the ferry to the mainland to make their purchases and then stuffing their designer Gucci bags full of sticky, aromatic buds and smuggling them back to their summer homes on the exclusive island.  

But there isn't a ready pot dispensary where the ferry lands on the mainland, so the dilettante smugglers either have to take their car along on the ferry or get an Uber where the ferry lands and drive to a distribution point.  All of that effort takes a lot of time away from cocktail parties and sailing regattas.  It is such a bother and seems so unfair!

The situation is reportedly almost as dire on Nantucket.

There have also been efforts to circumvent the system by growing marijuana on the two islands, but apparently hiring "testers" to come to the islands and grade the product is not cost effective.

Sweet Baby James!

Island Song

by Pa Rock

There once was a lass from Nantucket

Who kept all her weed in a bucket

But a sailor sweet-spoken

Who had taken to tokin'

Emptied her pail and did chuck it.

 

There are Felons, and then There are Special Felons

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Donald Trump is a felon.  A jury of his peers unanimously convicted him of thirty-four individual felony counts, and a month from tomorrow a judge will sentence him on those those convictions.  Trump, a man who has seldom been held to account for any of his actions during his long and privileged life, is very unhappy about those guilty verdicts, and he has loudly proclaimed his innocence and victimhood while lashing out at many of the individuals associated with the trial.

One of the necessary boxes that must be checked before next month's sentencing of the convicted felon, Donald Trump, is that he must report to a probation officer for an interview which should produce information that will help the judge to determine the most appropriate sentence.  Trump has his initial session with a probation officer today.

Of course, Donald Trump has felt all along that he should be treated differently than other people who get caught up in America's criminal justice system.  Because he had once served a term as the President of the United States, Trump felt that he had some sort of immunity from prosecution, but while that spurious claim is still being bandied about in the federal court system, it did not keep him from being prosecuted on a state level in New York.  Trump also felt that since he was again a declared candidate for President, the court's schedule should bend around his own.  He had been stalling four cases for years, but the one in New York finally made it to trial.  

Trump is special, but just not special enough to impose his imperial will on the Empire State - at least not until today.

I heard a probation and parole officer on a newscast this week lament that she has clients who have been convicted of just one felony, and that they cannot even get jobs at gas stations, but along comes Donald Trump with thirty-four felony convictions and he can run for President.

It's almost like some people believe that the circumstances of their birth should place them above the law, or, at the very least, above the consequences of breaking the law.

Donald Trump, who doesn't work, will not have to take off work to visit with the probation officer today.  In fact, Judge Merchan's court, the one Trump likes to call "corrupt" and whine about so much, has granted him special permission to  have a "virtual" visit with the probation officer.  Trump and the low-level government employee will not even be sucking in any of the same air - their chat will be through cyberspace!

And because Donald Trump is special, Judge Merchan has also said that his attorney can be present while he has his talk with the probation officer, a privilege rarely accorded to other, less special felons.

America's criminal population, like America's general population, appears to be clearly defined into social strata, and that is a shame because a person with aspirations to lead this nation should have as much firsthand knowledge of those whom he or she wishes to serve as is humanly possible regardless of which rung on the social ladder they occupy.   Of course, Donald Trump has always focused on serving himself and has little interest in the needs of others.

Most of the others are suckers and losers anyway, the sort of people who stand trial on the court's schedule and not their own, show up in person to deal with civil servants like probation officers, and answer for their own their damned crimes.

And they pay their taxes.

Trummp's pal, Leona Helmsley, called them the "little" people.

Just sayin . . . 

Leonard Peltier to Face Parole Hearing on Monday

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Humanity will once again be on trail tomorrow when Native American rights activist, Leonard Peltier, will go before a parole board in Florida, his first such appearance in fifteen years, and, due to his advanced age (79) and rapidly declining physical health, probably his last opportunity for freedom.

Peltier has been in prison since 1977 for crimes related to the killing of two FBI agents in a shootout at the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota in 1975.  Several others were arrested with Leonard Peltier in the aftermath of the killings, but they were all exonerated or removed from the frame, and when everything settled only Leonard Peltier was left in a prosecutable position.  Eventually the government's murder case against Peltier fell apart, and in lieu of that he was charged with knowing about and protecting whoever shot the FBI agents, a crime for which he has spent almost fifty years in prison, much of which was served in isolation.

Leonard Peltier could have walked free at his parole hearing fifteen years ago if he had admitted killing the FBI agents,  but he refused to own something which he still maintains is untrue.

Amnesty International advocates for the release of Leonard Peltier, as do many political, religious, and world leaders - including Pope Francis who personally brought Peltier's case and circumstances before two US Presidents, Obama and Biden. 

Leonard Peltier's trial in the 1970's is regarded by many legal experts as deeply flawed, but the FBI is determined to have maximum payback for the murder of its two agents, and the agency continues to exert political pressure on judges and Presidents to keep Mr. Peltier behind bars as a symbol of the FBI's wrath and revenge.

Peltier, who has a heart condition, suffered a stroke a few years ago and is now blind in one eye, and he knows his days are numbered.    He would like to spend them with his family and in his community.  

The parole board needs to review Leonard Peltier's case carefully and do what it right, and if they fail in that moral responsibility, Joe Biden needs to stand up and do it for them - now - while there is still time.

Show some kindness and mercy, Joe.  Let the old man go and spend his last few days with his grandchildren.  It's not a political calculation, just human decency.

Dear Fellow Patriot

 

by Pa Rock

Consistent Voter

Over the past few weeks I have sent out several donations to political candidates as the primary season heats up and the general election draws ever nearer.  Generally my donations go to Democrats whom I feel have earned my support through their records of helping the less fortunate, or to volunteer groups that generally support Democratic candidates and the social goals espoused by Democrats.  Occasionally I will even grease the palm of an independent candidate.  

Years ago I may have given a small donation or two to Republican candidates if I admired their position on some particular issue, but if I did, I honestly don't remember.   Now, however, with the current state of the hate-riddled Republican Party, it would be a very cold day in hell before I would feel compelled to support someone sitting astride the GOP's befuddled elephant.

That's why it was so surprising yesterday when Rosie and I walked out to the mailbox and retrieved a letter whose return address said simply "President Donald J. Trump."  The most notorious convicted felon in the entire world was writing to me.  What were the odds that he would be asking for money?  (A bazillion to one?)

The enclosed two-page letter (printed cheaply, front and back on one page) was, of course, a request for money.  The Trumpster wanted me to commit to two $25 donations or one combined gift of $50, and he sent along two colorful envelopes addressed to the Republican National Committee at a P.O. Box address in Topeka, Kansas, for my convenience.  The envelopes, alas, were not postage-paid, or I would have already placed them  back in the US mail, empty, of course.

I know that as an elderly, white, male voter who resides in the rural, ass end of a red state, there is a high likelihood that I am a Republican, and occasionally the Koch organization, "Americans for Prosperity" will send me a mailer requesting a cash love-offering for some Neanderthal state candidate, but yesterday's letter marks the first time - at least since Nixon - that a Republican Presidential candidate  or the Republican National Committee has trashed my mailbox.

The envelope that the beg came in had my name spelled correctly, even with the correct middle initial, and the address was also right, up to and including the nine-digit zip.  Did all of that come from our county voter lists?   Or were there boxes of Social Security records piled high in some bathroom at Mar-a-Lago that the Feds missed on their sweep of the joint?   In a country where Amazon.com has a more complete collection of addresses than the US Postal Service, I guess "privacy" is more or less just an arcane term, an oddity of history.

The envelope was clearly intended for me, but the letter itself began "Dear Fellow Patriot" and never contained my name in any form.  It had a bit of the Trump standard screed about Biden and his "Far-Left Overlords" buying the last election out from under Trump, and a short list of some of the ways the current President is shorting America - the standard Trump yammer about immigration, crime, wages, and taxes, but it was primarily just a beg for the Republican National Committee, the group that appears to not only be funding much of Trump's election effort, but also paying for his lawyers as well.

Donald, a jury of your peers who were selected, in part, through the efforts and approval of your own lawyers, said you did the crime.  They said so unanimously on each and every one of the thirty-four felongy counts.   You did the crime - so pay for your own damned lawyers!

But thanks for writing.  I always enjoy a good joke!

GLOATs, SLOATs, and BLOATs: LMFAO!

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

The creation of acronyms, a type of shorthand for remembering complex terminology by abbreviating it into initials that form a shorter word or term - something easier to remember - is not a new phenomenon, and, in fact, when I was in the United States Army more than fifty years ago, we were given a manual of a couple of hundred pages listing acronyms that had been especially created  to meet the army's needs.  The other branches of service had their own manuals stuffed with their own acronyms.  Some of the military acronomyms managed to make it beyond the call of duty and into the public domain, ones we all know like ASAP, AWOL, and MIA.

Today the process has evolved, and a whole generation of internet users seem to be able to get by using little more than just acronyms.  PIN, NSFW, LOL, ICYMI, YOLO,  and ROTFL are but a few examples of internet speech.   Creating memorable acronyms has almost become a contemporary art form, and anyone lacking the skills to readily translate strings of words to acronyms and back again can soon find themselves SOL when it comes to communicating over the internet.

A couple of new ones (at least new to me) surfaced last week during the closing arguments in the New York "hush money" trial of Donald Trump, the trial in which he was unanimously convicted of 34 felony counts by a jury of his peers.  Trump, who famously hires only the "best" people, sat by listening smugly as his current attorney, Todd Blanche, referred to Michael Cohen, Trump's former attorney and a witness against Trump in that trial, as a GLOAT (greatest liar of all time).

Cohen, Trump's former lawyer who admitted paying off a porn star so she would not interfere in Trump's 2016 presidential campaign against Hillary Clinton, later shot back at the clever Mr. Blanche and referred to him as a SLOAT (stupidest lawyer of all time).

I also noted a bit of commentary on the internet in which Trump was referred to as a BLOAT (biggest liar of all time) and there is now some Trump BLOAT (biggest loser of all time) merchandise being sold on Amazon.  Trump BLOAT apparel probably should not be worn with MAGA caps because the sight of it would surely cause me to be ROTFLMFAO!

TGIF!

Whack-a-Doodle Updates

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

There were a couple of good stories out of the US House of Representatives this week, and, of course, nothing in the way of legislation.

Congressman Paul Gosar, a Republican from a rural Arizona district and the politician whom I consider to be the funniest member of Congress, announced yesterday that he has submitted legislation to have the US Treasury print $500 Federal Reserve notes featuring the face of of convicted felon Donald Trump.    The last time the United States printed a $500 bill was in 1945, and it featured President William McKinley.  Gosar seems to have trust issues with digital currency and banks, and he apparently believes that having a ready supply of $500 bills would make it easier for citizens (and especially survivalists) to manage their own money.

Organized crime and particularly drug cartels would probably also see advantages into not having to handle so many smaller bills.

Rep. Gosar also believes that having the face of Donald Trump on a new $500 bill would make them collectors' items, and that Trump fans would buy them up and horde them (perhaps in their Trump Bibles) and thus increase the US Treasury's revenue.

Win!  Win!  Win!  So much winning!

I subscribe to Congressman Gosar's weekly update and it literally makes my week.  Not only do his articles and tidbits highlight the compete spectrum of MAGA craziness, but he encourages his readers to  respond to what he has written, and then goes to great lengths to ridicule them if they disagree with him.  And his nonsensical barking is always, ALWAYS funny!

It's hard to believe, but just a few years ago there were people in Arizona who were letting Paul Gosar work on their teeth!

Marjorie Taylor Greene is another Republican member of Congress who goes to great lengths to be perceived as outrageous.  Marge is one of those people whom reporters gravitate to on what would otherwise be slow news days.  This past week Marge went on "War Room," a podcast hosted by former Trump adviser Steve Bannon.  

(Random note:  Bannon is due back in a federal court today where he is still fighting a four-month prison sentence that was imposed in 2022 when he was found guilty on two counts of Contempt of Congresss.)

When Marge Greene went on Bannon's podcast earlier this week, she also was showing her contempt of Congress, and particularly the Republican members of Congress.  Greene is angry that some of her colleagues seem to actually be trying to legislate when she believes they should be focused on impeaching President Biden.  Marge is not just angry, she is righteously pissed.  Among other things she told Bannon as she was excoriating her fellow Republican members of Congress was this:

“Republicans continually have their head up their ass and can't figure out how to actually use the power that the people gave us...this is a new time in America, and I am so fed up, Steve. I am so fed up. I am so sick of it because I know people at home are sick of it. People are sick and tired of a feckless, useless Republican Party that never does a damn thing to stop any of this.  They just sit in the boat and row along with the Democrats." 

(Note:  I emboldened the portions of Marge's statement where I emphatically agree with her!) 

Political parties working together for the common good is not Marge's idea of how Congress should function, and she is sick of it!

And in some executive tomfoolery:  

Convicted felon Donald Trump is headed to Phoenix, Arizona, today where the temperature is expected to top out at a balmy 111 degrees F.  That orange makeup is just going to slide right off of his face!  Trump will be in Arizona campaigning for senatorial candidate Kari Lake.  He should plan a follow-up visit in two weeks when it will really be hot.  It's usually the third week in June when temperatures in Phoenix hover around 120 degrees F. and the asphalt on the runways at Sky Harbor Airport begins to melt.  

Phoenix in late June is as close to Hell as this tired old typist ever wants to get!

Cyndi Lauper's First Farewell Tour

 

by Pa Rock

Music Fan

Cyndi Lauper, a girl who just wants to have fun and can really belt out a song, has just announced that she will be embarking on a "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" 24-city farewell tour late this year.  Ms. Lauper, who will be seventy-one this month, claims to be retiring.

If I sound a little dubious regarding celebrity farewell tours and retirements, it all goes back to my being a fan of Cher.   A decade ago this month I had a decent seat at the Kansas City stop on Cher's third farewell tour.   Cyndi Lauper opened that show and was every bit as fun and entertaining as the Hollywood headliner.  Six years later I had a ticket for Cher's fourth farewell tour, again at the Kansas City stop, but the pandemic came along and cancelled that show - at least in Kansas City.  Now I have lost track and don't know if Cher is still doing farewell tours or not, but even if she is, Lauper is obviously no longer with her because she has branched out and is doing her own.

Having multiple farewell tours is one way to say goodbye - over and over again, or there is always the Elton John approach to retiring.  He began his "Farewell Yellow Brick Road"l tour in 2018 and completed in nearly five years later after 330 concerts!  Who wouldn't be serious about retirement after a run like that!

I suspect that the multi-talented Ms. Lauper is serious about retiring, or at least leaving the stage.  But that does not mean she will be content parked in front of a window watching the birds at the feeders. Cyndi Lauper is actually as well known for her songwriting as she is for her singing.  She wrote the music and lyrics for the musical "Kinky Boots," which also played in Kansas City several years ago - and I had a great seat for that one!

Ms. Lauper will undoubtedly have plenty to keep her occupied as well as lots of time to get out and have some fun - and that's what retirement should be about.

Enjoy it, Cyndi!

At Swim, Consenting Adults in a Benjo Ditch

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

I left Twitter a long time ago, back when Elon Musk bought the property and decided it would be fun to manage it himself.  After he moved to rehabilitate Trump by inviting him back to the forum, and opened the site's doors to Nazis, racists, homophobes, election deniers, and all manner of hate-speakers and other vermin, I knew that I had made a good decision.  As ad revenue at the company plunged by fifty-percent early on, it only confirmed my wisdom in bailing when I did.  The old Twitter was fading fast, and when Elon abruptly changed its name to "X," the Twitter that I knew was completely gone.

So it came as no surprise when I saw a notice on the internet yesterday that "X" would heretofore allow "adult content" on the site as long as the content was consensual and clearly labeled.  The company apparently has some way of blocking or blurring adult content if it is being accessed by people they know or suspect to be minors.

Right.

Call me prudish if you must, but there are some things I would rather not have pop-up on my computer screen as I scroll through endless lists of insults while enjoying my breakfast cereal.

But hey, it's Elon's platform.  He bought the internet site and paid for it with his hard-earned cash, and by golly if he wants to turn it into a benjo ditch, he damned well can!  It's his business!

American free enterprise, warts and all!

"X" will finally live up down to its name.

One wag on "X" yesterday even  took a stab at updating the site's name:

"'XXX,' formerly know as 'X,' formerly known as 'Twitter!'"

A Good Reason to Visit Canada this Summer

by Pa Rock

Road Warrior

My summer vacation is scheduled to begin two weeks from yesterday when I will hop in my little Korean car and putter off to Kansas City.  I will be in the Kansas City area one or two nights where I expect to see five of my six grandchildren, and then I will head out north toward the international border, the one that does not drive Red State America barking mad.

I will cross into Canada somewhere south of Winnipeg in the eastern edge of the Province of Manitoba, and from there meander north and west possibly as far as Saskatoon in Saskatechwan, drift over into Alberta and finally reenter th US somewhere in northern Montana or Idaho.  From there I would like to see Glacier Park for the second time in my life and maybe even drive the terrifyingly beautiful "Going to the Sun Road" again, before finally descending and heading to my ultimate goal of Salem, Oregon.

My itinerary is intentionally indefinite, and I plan to go where the day and the road take me.  I will cover the trip on a daily basis in this blog.

That will be my second extended foray into Canada.  More than thirty years ago our family went on a van excursion up into Ontario and Quebec where we drove all the way to Quebec City, an experience of a lifetime that I heartily recommend to anyone who would like an immersive experience in French Canada.

It turns out this is an exceptionally good time to visit Canada because tourists from the states will not have to face the dreadful possibility of running into Donald Trump while they are there.  Somewhere along the line I will have to pull into a public laundry and catch up on my wash, and it would be just my luck to be in an all-night laundromat in Moose Jaw, washing a couple of loads of my travel rags and reading a good mystery novel, and have that bloated nuisance waddle in and park his diapered butt across two plastic chairs - and then have to spend the rest of my time there listening to him piss and moan about "crooked Joe Biden," corrupt judges, and how unfairly he is treated by almost everybody.

I don't know how many victim cards are in a standard Trump deck, but he has worn out several!

Justin Trudeau I could listen to, at least for as long as it took my clothes to tumble dry, because he at least has a personality - but not Trump!

Now, however, thanks to his unanimous felony convictions on thirty-four counts of criminal behavior, I won't have to.  Trump will not be allowed to cross into Canada without special permission from the Canadian government.    Even if the United States would suffer the world's greatest brain fart this November and send him back to the White House, Trump will still be persona non grata in Canada and a few dozen other countries because of his felony convictions.  He would not even be able to attend next year's G-7 Summit which is scheduled to be held in Canada, unless he requests and is granted special permission by the Canadian government to enter their country.

Donald John Trump, a man who is a great respecter of the sovereignty of national borders and the sanctity of law, would be hard pressed to beg for entry into Canada - unless, of course, the summit was to be held near a world-class golf resort.  That might be cause for an exception to his passionate defense of law and order.

Enjoy your summer America.    I know I will!

A Disturbance of Feral Chickens

 

by Pa Rock

Former Chicken Rancher

Domesticated animals that are abandoned or escape their bondage and revert to a wild state are often referred to as "feral."  It is not uncommon for people in rural settings, such as myself, to encounter feral cats and dogs - and occasionally the wild hog, but feral chickens, fairly defenseless creatures that can easily be preyed upon by many other animals as well as humans, are more of a rarity.  I have friends who live in another part of rural Missouri who had wild chickens visit their homestead in the woods for several years, but eventually they moved on or were "preyed" out of existence.

There was a story in several on-line sources this past week about a group of feral chickens in a rural English setting that were upsetting some of the area residents.  One of the stories even referred to the encounters between the chickens and their human neighbors as an "attack of the feral chickens."  After perusing what I could find on the story, I found no evidence of an "attack," but it definitely was a tale of two nuisance populations colliding.

The idyllic village where this situation is occurring is a place called Snettisham, and it is located in the county of Norfolk, less that sixty miles from Cambridge.  There is an area of common woods near Snettisham where a large flock of one hundred or so feral chickens have lived for some time, apparently without upsetting too many of the locals.  But now new people are moving to town, rich folks from Cambridge who are buying up the cheap land, building nice homes, and pretending to be landed gentry.  The new arrivals, however, have issues with the wild chickens.

They are complaining about the constant clucking, and the fact that the roosters start crowing around four o'clock in the morning - like clockwork!  The monster chickens are also scratching in their well tended gardens and causing their gardeners all kinds of extra bother.  Once word got out about the chicken situation, thanks to the public whining of the rich folk who were moving in and rewriting the community standards, a tourist boomlet developed of people who wanted to see the marauding chickens for themselves, so the indignant owners of the stylish new estates had them to deal with as well.  The tourists thought it would be great fun to feed the chickens, so they threw down all manner of food and trash, some of which the chickens enjoyed and the remainder of which drew rats.

Now the rats, the ones with four legs, are far more plentiful than the feral chickens, and the other rats, the ones with two legs who live in the expensive new houses, are getting their first taste of real life in the country and praying for the return of a stable government, something like the country had under the reign of Henry VIII, for example.

And the clucking and crowing continue!

Democratic Grip on Senate Weakens

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

US Senator Joe Manchin of West Virginia yesterday officially changed his party affiliation from Democratic to Independent.  Manchin, a former governor of West Virginia who was elected to the Senate in 2010 as a Democrat, has been a staunch ally of the fossil fuel industry and has often been at odds with the majority of his fellow Democratic senators on a variety of issues.  He apparently intends to continue caucusing with the Democrats in the Senate and will maintain his committee assignments until his term expires next January.   At this time Manchin is not running for re-election but says that he intends to stay active in politics.

Senator Manchin's switch to an independent status leaves the Democratic majority in the Senate in a tenuous position.  Officially there are now 49 Republican senators, 47 Democratic senators, and four Independents.  The Independents include Bernie Sanders of Vermont, Angus King of Maine, Kyrsten Sinema of Arizona, and Joe Manchin of West Virginia.  Bernie Sanders switches his official party affiliation to Democratic whenever he runs for President, but he always runs for the Senate as an independent - as does Angus King.  Kyrsten Sinema was elected as a Democrat in Arizona in 2018, but changed her affiliation to Independent in December of 2022.  Manchin has always run as a Democrat, but changed his party affiliation yesterday.

The Democrats remain in the technical majority in the Senate, at least for the time being, because all four Independents caucus with the Democrats.  But if just one of the four Independents has a change of heart and decides to caucus with the Republicans, it will be an evenly split chamber with each party controlling 50 votes and the Democratic Vice President acting as the tie-splitter and keeping the majority power with the Democrats.  But if two independents decide to caucus with Republicans, McConnell will replace Schumer as the majority leader.

Both chambers of Congress, the House and the Senate, are about as evenly split now as they can get without toppling, and so too, according to most polls, are American voters in their presidential preferences.

A close race stirs excitement and increases tension, and political tension can play out in a number of ways, not all of them healthy.

It's going to be a long five months!