Today Would Be a Good Day to . . .

by Pa Rock
Farmer in Spring

The sun is shining this morning making the newly-mowed front yard look oh so inviting - perhaps for a leisurely stroll to the mailbox and back, or to follow Rosie as makes her rounds to see which neighborhood dogs have crossed her yard during the night.  Today would be a good day for that.

Today would also be a good day to finish mowing the back yard.  It is not as critical as the front because it cannot be seen from the road, but it needs mowing nonetheless.  I have about three hour's of mowing left to be done.

One of the neighbor's, a young man who also happens to be my dentist, recently was effusive in his praise of how nice my yard looks.  I thanked him for noticing.

My garden also looks nice, but it is hidden behind the house and the dentist likely has never seen it.  This spring it was buried in weeds, and I have spent weeks getting those weeds pulled up by the roots.  I have them in a large, oblong pile that resembles a coffin.  It is green toward the top and brown on the bottom where the older weeds are rotting.  I have plans to build a compost bin and then fork all of that rotting vegetation into it - along with garbage, scraps, and wood chips.  Today would be a good day to finally get that done.

In the garden itself I have tomato plants, several varieties, that are tall and blooming, and I also have a couple of beds of peppers that are just beginning to take off and get big.  I have planted squash and greenbeans as well, and those should be poking through the warm earth soon.  It would be a good day for the remainder of the garden to make its appearance.

Today would be a good day to stroll the yard, front and back, and check on all of the beautiful flowers that I have set out.  The Roost is ablaze with the blooms of roses, begonias, and portulaca, and the  colorful leaves of several varieties of coleus add their own distinctive highlights.

And then there are the grandchildren.  I feel the need to be checking in on them before they all join Boone in college - and today would be a good day to do that.

But for all of my grand desires and good intentions, I know that not much will get done today.  My back has been "out" for two days - as a result of bending over to pull weeds - and every little movement leaves me with searing pain.  I can sit, and I can stand (slowly), and I can lay down (with great effort), but that is about all.

Today would e a good day to accomplish so many things, but most of them won't happen.  I must hope that tomorrow will be a good day also.

Hide the Battleship!

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There has been a bit of confusion in the news over the past twenty-four hours as to whether the US Navy tried to hide or obscure the presence of a particular warship that was close to the one on which Donald Trump gave a Memorial Day address earlier this week.  Trump spoke aboard the USS Wasp located in a harbor at a US naval facility just south of Tokyo - and present in that same harbor was the USS John S. McCain.

Various reports during the past day have indicated that the Navy moved the USS John S. McCain so that it would be out of sight of the Trump visit, and that it did so at the insistence of the White House, or that a large tarp was hung over the McCain's name during the Trump visit, or that a large barge was moved in next to the McCain to hide its name.  Other more persistent reports suggested that sailors aboard the McCain who wear a blue service cap that features their ship's name were given the day off so that the McCain caps would not be visible to the press and public - nor presumably visible to Trump and his entourage either.

As those stories began circulating yesterday, indignation rode rampant on social media with writers and tweeters criticizing Trump as being a petulant man-child who can't let go of his feud with the deceased Arizona senator who shares the same name as a US warship - a ship that was named for Senator McCain's father and grandfather, both distinguished Navy admirals.  Meghan McCain, the late senator's daughter, gave voice to those same complaints and lamented how sad it was that Donald Trump would not allow her father to rest in peace.

Now the Navy is saying that much of what was reported yesterday was inaccurate.   The USS John S. McCain was not moved prior to Trump's visit because it is at the naval facility undergoing repairs.  Yes, a tarp had been placed over the name of the ship, apparently while painting was being done, but the tarp had been removed on Saturday before Trump spoke on Tuesday.  And yes, a large barge had been pulled up next to the McCain, a paint barge, but it was gone before Trump's visit.

So far there doesn't seem to have been any denials issued about the sailors being given the day off so that they would not be wearing the duty caps around the presidential party.

Today The Wall Street Journal, a news publication owned by Trump pal Rupert Murdoch, is reporting that the existence of an email from the US Indo-Pacific Command to Navy and Air Force personnel at the naval facility in Japan where the McCain and Wasp are currently situated.  The email, dated May 15th, talked about preparations for Trump's visit and then stipulated that "the USS John McCain needs to be out of sight."   The email said that request was being made based on conversations between the White House Military Office and Seventh Fleet - and it requested a confirmation that the specific directive about the McCain being out of sight would be carried out.

So, whether the USS John S. McCain was moved or hidden or not, it does appear likely, based on a story in a Trump-supporting news source, that someone at the White House put some effort into trying to make it invisible during the Trump visit.

Donald Trump, to no one's surprise, has denied all knowledge of the matter.

(Perhaps the next time someone at the White House thinks about hiding a battleship, they should begin the process by contacting Milton Bradley, the acknowledged experts in the field!)

Mueller Puts the Final Stone in the Wall

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

In a surprise press conference this morning former special counsel Robert Mueller, the man who headed the investigation into allegations of Russian interference in the 2016 elections, seemed to be saying that he would not be testifying before Congress because his teams' report was his testimony and he could not go beyond that.

He also said that the material in his report had been "largely" released and that the report "speaks for itself."  Much of the report, at least that which was made available to the public which paid for it, was redacted.

Mueller did say that Russia had launched a covert attack on our political system during the 2016 elections, and he appeared to tie Donald Trump to that effort when he ambiguously declared:  "If we had confidence the President did not commit a crime, we would have said so."  Or, in straight-forward terms, it looks as though Donald may have had Russian mud on his hands.

Mueller made it clear that Donald Trump was not indicted because of a Department of Justice policy which states that a President cannot be charged with a crime while in office.  Mueller, an employee of the DOJ, was bound to adhere to its policies.  He then indicated that Congress was the appropriate venue for follow-up action on the matter.

So Congress can take their redacted version of the Mueller report, the one sanitized by Attorney General (and Trump appointee) William Barr, and pursue impeachment - and Robert Mueller, who took no questions at today's press conference, would have nothing to add to the report if he was dragged before Congress to testify - because the report is his testimony.

And if Congress has not seen every word of the Mueller report, well that matter is above Mueller's pay grade.

It would appear that the stonewall has been completed.

Some Thoughts on Defeating Trump in 2020

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Donald Trump may be lazy, incompetent, and a racist, but those qualities alone are not enough to bring about his defeat at the polls in 2020.   In fact, as long as he lets the rich get richer and does not reveal himself to be a primary cause of hardship among the working poor, he is likely to be elected to another term.

Some in the Democratic Party see the way to beat Trump is to come up with a Democratic version of him, while others stress the importance of fielding a candidate who will be a sharp contrast to Trump in every way possible, a polar opposite.

Feeling that one Trump is more than enough, I tend to find myself favoring the notion of finding a candidate who contrasts with Donald Trump.   Here are a few ways in which the Democratic Party might present a better presidential image than the one with which the United States is currently saddled:

1.  Select a younger and more physically fit candidate than Donald Trump.   Trump will be seventy-three next month, and he is obese.  We have all cringed at the photos of him literally trying to crawl out of a golf bunker, and his penchant for fast food is well known.  The Democratic nominee in 2020 should be able to tap dance around Trump without breaking a sweat.

2.  Choose a person who is committed to family and friends and does not have a history of behaving inappropriately toward others.  Donald Trump brags of grabbing women by the genitalia, talks of a princess he "could have nailed," has had two divorces and three wives, and has a general history of behaving toward women in an ignorant and repulsive manner.  The Democrats, by contrast, should nominate someone whom most of us would trust to babysit our grandchildren.

3.  Pick a nominee who did not actively avoid the draft.  Donald Trump avoided the draft during the Vietnam War with a "trumped-up" doctor's excuse claiming that he had bone-spurs in his feet, a condition that has since miraculously disappeared.  To compensate for his lack of military experience, he brought several military men to the White House early in his administration, but they have all now departed.  Trump seems to avoid memorial events (at least here in the U.S.) and military functions in much the same manner as he avoided the draft fifty years ago.  The Democrats should choose a nominee who has nothing to be embarrassed about when dealing with the military.

If the Democratic Party coughs up a candidate who is older than Donald Trump, who has already had to deal with numerous charges of being a "creepy uncle" type of character, and who also generated the appearance of avoiding the draft during the Vietnam War - then it will have lost several easy advantages, and it will likely lose the election as well.

2020 needs to be about what is right for America - and not whose turn it is to run.

Monday's Poetry: "Cat Moving Kittens"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Last week was one of substantial change for the cat population here at Rock's Roost.  A week ago today eight felines were in residence at The Roost, but by the end of the week that number was down to a more manageable three.   The five kittens that were born in the chicken coop on April 6th all found homes, leaving only their mother, Fiona, and their two older brothers to keep the varmints at bay here at the farm.

I had promised three kittens to the Amish ladies who clean my house, and had plans to give them at least three - more if they could be talked into it - when they arrived on Thursday morning for the bi-monthly housecleaning.  The little kitties had never strayed beyond fifteen feet or so of the coop, so I assumed it would be easy to collect a few.  That particular morning, however, they had gone on a walkabout and discovered the barn - and when we tracked them there they all scattered and hid!  The ladies left disappointed on their farm tractor with an empty pet carrier.

That evening three of the youngsters gathered where I feed the big cats, and I quickly captured them. The Amish ladies had stated a preference for black kittens, and I managed to snag two black ones and the striped kitten.  I delivered them to a beautiful Amish farm before anyone had an opportunity to change their minds.

Saturday the other two were out on the prowl, a black and a yellow, and I grabbed them up and headed to a local feed store where I sat in the parking lot waiting for just the right person to come by. The first fellow to show an interest appeared to be an old farmer who wanted them for barn cats.  I assured him that they were barn cats and that their mother was a proven mouser.  He was ready to take them when I promised to throw in the plastic tub that they were sitting in, but his wife talked him out of it.

Then an older lady came by and gave me a lecture on the importance of finding the right adoptive family.  She said that there were people on Facebook advertising for kittens to use in live traps to catch groundhogs, raccoons, and opossums.  Her deranged babble made me glad that I had forsworn Facebook several years ago.   Next some friends stopped by just to visit, but they did not want any cats.  And finally, after I had been there about an hour, the old farmer who had been there first returned, after apparently having talked his wife into letting him have the little cats.  When I again offered him the plastic tub to use as a carrier, he scooped the whole business into his car - and my day was complete!

I didn't ask, but he did not look like the type of person who would use kittens for bait in live traps.  I also did not ask my Amish friends why they wanted black cats.  Some things are just none of my business!

Today's selection, "Cat Moving Kittens," is by contemporary poet Austin Smith and was included in his collection entitled Flyover Country.  The poem is about a farm cat that has a litter of kittens in a field beside a bale of hay.  Humans discover the newborns and touch them, causing the mother to stealthily move the babies to another location.  By the time the kitties are seen again, they are wild young farm cats.

I found Fiona's most recent litter on their second day - and even touched them - but the experienced mother felt no compunction to move her babies.  And by the time I finally gathered them up for adoption, she seemed more than happy to see them go.

There is a time to give birth, and a time to send the offspring on down the road.  Fiona saw no need to hide her kittens, and she seemed to understand from experience that I would take care of them.

But the cat that Austin Smith describes did not have that level of confidence in her humans - whom the poet cleverly equates with "the state."


Cat Moving Kittens
by Austin Smith

We must have known,

Even as we reached

Down to touch them

Where we'd found them

Shut-eyed and trembling

Under a straw bale

In the haymow, that

She would move them

That night under cover

Of darkness, and that

By finding them

We were making certain

We wouldn't see them again

Until we saw them

Crouching under the pickup

Like sullen teens, having gone

As wild by then as they'd gone
Still in her mouth that night

She made a decision

Any mother might make

Upon guessing the intentions
Of the state: to go and to

Go now, taking everything

You love between your teeth.

Trump: An Embarrassment Abroad

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

In what may be the biggest affront to Japan since Jimmy Doolittle and his crew firebombed Tokyo in 1942, contemporary American guest Donald John Trump declined to follow tradition at a championship Sumo bout and sit cross-legged on a cushion on the floor as a front row spectator.  Trump instead demanded, and got, a chair on which to plant his ample butt during the major sporting event.

Custom be damned.  When in Tokyo, do it Trump's way!

The problem with Trump acceding to centuries of Japanese tradition is that once on the floor, it would  have taken several big men and a boy or two to lift the obese politician back to a standing position, an event that would've likely been photographed and made it into the press - and thus nullified Trump's preposterous malarkey that he is the fittest person to ever serve in the White House.

Obama could undoubtedly have sprung from a floor-sitting position to a full-stance with little perceived effort and certainly no sweat, but Trump, on the other hand, would come nearer requiring the services of a crane.

Our fat tyrant would do well to study the movements of the sumo wrestlers while he is on his golfing vacation in Japan.  Those fellows, who resemble him in physique, seem to bounce up and down with relative ease.  If they can gracefully move their tonnage, surely Trump could learn to at least sit and stand unaided.

But it's hard to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee when the most regular exercise you get is unwrapping Big Mac's and chasing a little white ball around in a golf cart.

Just sayin' . . . 

Acts of God?

by Pa Rock
Citizen Skeptic

A couple of newsworthy things happened recently which could be described as "acts of God," yet God's many spokesmen here on Earth seem reluctant to claim any credit or glory.

First, the Missouri Legislature passed a hate-riddled abortion law which denies women the right to have an abortion in the state after the eighth week of pregnancy for any reason other than to protect the life of the mother.  A woman who becomes pregnant through rape or incest and does not realize she is pregnant until after the eighth week will be forced to carry her unwanted passenger full term - unless she can afford to travel to another state to seek humane medical treatment.    It's a toxic law that was proudly drafted and passed by a toxic legislature.

After that law was passed, but before it could be signed into law by Missouri's governor, Mike Parson, an EF-3 tornado hit the state's capital, Jefferson City, tearing a path through the town and surrounding countryside that sometimes reached a mile in width and extended for nearly twenty miles in length.  Destruction was massive.

A few days later Parson signed the new law anyway.

If the legislature had just passed a proclamation honoring gay marriage, the evangelical howlers would have been apoplectic in associating it with the tornado, but there were no pious claims tying this raging tornado to the abortion legislation.  God was an innocent bystander - the tornado just happened!

And another interesting occurrence rooted in a natural phenomena happened over in Grant County, Kentucky, regarding to a gigantic eyesore of boat that looks like it belongs anchored at Betsy DeVos's summer home.  The boat, a "replica" of Noah's Ark, draws nearly a million visitors annually, but the tourism began declining after some access roads were washed away due to heavy rains.  Five separate insurance companies declined to offer any assistance to the Ark's owners, and now the contemporary drama of Noah's Ark versus God's rain is being played out in a court of law.

(It's probably a good thing that the original Noah didn't have to deal with lawyers, or today we would all have fins and be breathing through our gills!  But I digress - and draw upon my fondness for the writings of H.P. Lovecraft!)

All of this reminds me of another probable act of God that occurred in Kentucky back in 2013.  There, at another religiously-themed roadside attraction called "Th Creation Museum," which features depictions of humans working alongside dinosaurs, one of the workers was struck by lightening!

God was on a roll that day - yes She was!

Harriet Tubman Will Have to Wait Until the Racists Leave the White House

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Steven Mnuchin, a glorified loan shark who became the current Secretary of the Treasury through his prominence in some of the shadier branches of the banking industry, has been focused of late on the struggle to keep Congress from seeing Donald Trump's tax returns - even though an internal memo circulating in his own department informs him that he must comply with the congressional request.  Mnuchin argues that Congress can't have the documents it is requesting because Congress has no "legitimate" legislative reason to do so.

It's good to know that the determination of what are and are not "legitimate" legislative reasons for Congress to do something rests with whichever political hack happens to be the sitting Secretary of the Treasury.  So often the operation of government appears unfathomable to average folks, so this helps to explain at least one aspect of how things actually work in our nation's capital.

When Little Steve isn't busy managing the affairs of Congress - or flying his pretty young wife around of shopping sprees aboard private jets paid for with the taxpayer's dime - he occasionally can be found at the Treasury Department making decisions that revolve around his own job.  Those days are rare, but they do happen.

Yesterday was one of the days that Mnuchin tried to appear as though he was at work and focused on the nation's money supply - but, in reality, he was again just carrying water for Donald Trump.  Mnuchin announced that the new twenty-dollar bill design, the one featuring black abolitionist Harriet Tubman that was supposed to have been released next year, would instead not be printed and go into circulation after his boss, Trump, has left office.  (If, in the interim, Harriet's bill isn't cancelled altogether by the ever-petulant Trump.)

Trump, who knows little history or much else, for that matter, somehow developed into a fan-boy of Andrew Jackson, the man who removed tens of thousands of Native Americans from the southeastern United States in open defiance of a Supreme Court order - and forced-marched them on the cold and bitter "Trail of Tears" to a barren homeland in Oklahoma.  Apparently Donald Trump did not want to see his personal immigration hero deposed from the twenty dollar bill and replaced by a black woman.

Not only was Tubman a prominent and outspoken woman, and black, she was also championed for the new twenty-dollar bill by Trump's predecessor, Barack Obama.  Three strikes and she was out!

Harriet Tubman was born into slavery, escaped, and became a "conductor" on the "underground railway" by making several trips into the Old South and helping more that seventy slaves to escape to freedom in the North.  She also served as a spy for the Union Army during the Civil War.  She was someone who could be easily detested by Stephen Miller and the other racist cockroaches currently scurrying along the baseboards and dark crevices of the West Wing.

Her time will come - know that Mnuchin and Miller and Trump - and so will yours.

"Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."                   Martin Luther King, Jr.

Composting Grandma

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Getting rid of dead bodies has always been a challenging pursuit.  In the old days the dearly departed were rolled into a holes and covered with dirt so that wolves and big cats and other predators could not find the corpses and  drag them around in pieces and chunks.  At some point the bodies would decompose and become one with the earth.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes - and all that stuff.

The Egyptians decided that there was an afterlife, and the entry into that new reality depended on having a serviceable body for the trip, so they began the processes of embalming and mummifying bodies.

Our own culture has long placed dead bodies in wooden boxes for burial, a process that would keep the wild animals at bay and offer a bit of preservation - at least for awhile.  Then embalming became the fad, probably as much for health reasons as for body preservation - and before long the highly profitably funeral industry developed.

Now, in most states to properly dispose of a body the family must choose between the less expensive cremation or the far most costly embalming and burial in a special - and very expensive - coffin, and often with a concrete container to go around the coffin.  Many funeral directors are skilled at selling confused and grieving families the most expensive packages that the inheritance will allow.

A few years ago "green funerals" started to make a dent in the funeral racket.  These less expensive exits featured no embalming and burial in shrouds or boxes made of biodegradable materials.  Bodies buried in green funerals would work their way back into the soil much, much quicker than those pumped full of poisonous embalming fluid and then encased in mahogany and concrete.

(I spoke with a Missouri funeral director several years ago and found him to be decidedly bitter on the subject of green funerals.)

Green funerals were the way of the future, but now even they are being left in the dust by a new technology.

This week Washington's governor, Jay Inslee, signed a measure that would make the composting of human bodies legal in his state.  Beginning in May of 2020 families may choose to have their dearly departed placed in a special vessel which is filled with wood chips, alfalfa, and straw.  The moisture controlled vessel will then be rotated for a few weeks until all matter inside decomposes into enough rich soil to fill two average wheelbarrows.  Families can then take their rich new soil and place it on the garden, use it to plant a tree, put in a new flower bed, or whatever they wish.

And if they want to put a fancy tombstone or brass marker in that new flower bed, they can do that, too!

Composting is a practical alternative to a costly and space-consuming contemporary way of managing corpses, and it offers immediate benefit to the planet.   The composting process is also known as "natural organic reduction."  Farmers have long used composting to get rid of the corpses of large farm animals - and it is a clean, efficient process that does work.

As one wag on the internet noted this morning, it will soon be "ashes to ashes, guts to dirt!"

A Libertarian Takes Aim at Trump

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

As I mentioned in a posting yesterday, Kevin McCarthy, the Minority Leader of the U.S. House of Representatives, suffered a couple of political embarrassments last week.  First, he invited Larry Lindsey, a former economics adviser in the George W. Bush administration, in to give a pep talk to members of the GOP leadership in the House.   That foray into professional development, or team-building, or whatever, quickly went off the rails when Lindsey decided that he would enlighten the members present with his own views of Donald Trump's mental health, views that he acquired from two psychiatrists whom he convinced to give Trump a psych eval from afar.

Larry Lindsey, who in all likelihood did not tell the Republican representatives anything that they did not already know, still managed to smash the party's facade of treating Trump's petty, vindictive, lying, blowhard nature as normal.  And to make matters worse, the press also managed to gain access to his remarks.  The emperor was indeed naked!

But all of that abject humiliation was just one part of Kevin McCarthy's very bad week.  The other shoe dropped on Friday when Justin Amash, a young Republican (and Libertarian) congressman from Michigan, decided to post a few tweets expressing his belief that, according to the findings of the Mueller Report, Donald Trump had committed impeachable offenses.  The wall of Republican solidarity behind Donald Trump in the House of Representatives had been cracked.

It didn't take long for Trump and the other Russian bots on Twitter to begin firing back.   Trump immediately went to his comfort zone and began name-calling, in this case referring to Amash as a "lightweight," and implying the he was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.  McCarthy, for his part, belittled his Republican colleague in the House and not being a very faithful adherent to the party line.

The young upstart had been promptly and appropriately put in his place by his political betters

But Justin Amash wasn't going to back down.  On Monday he fired another volley of tweets at Trump, this time stating that he should face impeachment.  The House Freedom Caucus, the umbrella group for the extreme GOP right-wing nut jobs in Congress - and a group that Justin Amash helped found - quickly issued a condemnation of their outspoken member. Paragons of virtue like Ohio's Rep. Jim Jordan (a peripheral character in a sexual abuse of students scandal at Ohio State) were appalled by Amash's outspoken maligning of Trump - and even newly elected Senator Mitt Romney of Utah, himself a well known Trump critic, gave a somewhat garbled condemnation of Amash's tweets.

Not surprisingly, after his remarks regarding Trump over the past few days, Congressman Amash has already drawn a primary challenger, although in fairness to the congressman it needs to be pointed out that the newly minted challenger had been planning to primary him anyway, but moved his announcement forward to ride any backlash that might develop following Amash's criticism of Trump.

So what's going on with Justin Amash?  It the young (39 y/o) congressman on a mission to commit political harakiri, or is there a method to his madness?

Here is a compilation of a few theories that have been floating across the internet.

Apparently Michigan is likely to lose one congressional seat after next year's census, and there is a strong possibility that new district lines will ravage the district that Amash currently holds - so his incumbency adantage will be damaged anyway.  There is also another notion that Amash is intentionally picking a fight with the ever-defensive Trump as a forerunner to seeking the Libertarian nomination to challenge Trump in next year's election.  That would mean that Trump would have to pay attention to William Weld's challenge from the left and Amash on his right - as well as whoever the Democrats nominate.  That might amount to more name-calling than even Trump could handle!

Rep. Amash has also hinted that he may have his eye on another political office - such as governor of Michigan, or that state's U.S. Senator.

Or one other possibility is that Justin Amash is being totally honest and that he feels Donald John Trump has committed high crimes and misdemeanors and deserves to be impeached and removed from office - and party considerations be damned!

Whatever his motivations, Justin Amash is speaking out against Donald Trump, and the fact that Amash is from the right-wing of Trump's own political party just makes his defection all the sweeter!

Storm's a Coming!

by Pa Rock

Preparedness Freak

The radio is giving warnings about major storms moving through northern Arkansas and southern Missouri - and using words like lightening, hail, strong winds, and even tornadoes.  I have had the dogs outside several times already today anticipating that they and I will be holed up in the basement for at least part of the day with no way to properly relieve ourselves.

But what to do while waiting for the big one to arrive?

I decided to make a big container of tuna salad, something I can keep in a cooler and snack on until the house is rebuilt.  I boiled a dozen eggs (fifteen actually, but sat three aside for snacks), opened three cans of beautiful Kirkland Albacore, and mixed it all together.  It was then that I realized that there wasn't a drop of mayo in the entire house!

I put the dogs on their best behavior and rushed to town to get the mayo.  I also bought three apples while I was there - to get the most that I could out of the hurried trip.  On the way home the local deejays were warning about two possible tornadoes in my county!

It was a total case of Willie Makit and Betty Dont.  But luck prevailed and I got to the house before all hell could break loose.

The tuna salad is now safely made and in the fridge, the electricity has already flicked on and off, the rain has started, and the dogs and I are heading to the basement.  And should the worst happen, we have plenty of tuna salad to keep us going until help arrives!

Be safe, America!

Kevin McCarthy's Very Bad Week

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Kevin McCarthy, a Republican representing California's 23rd congressional district, has been a politician almost his entire adult life.  As the Minority Leader of the House of Representatives he knows full well that politicians experience both good times and bad - it's the nature of the game.   And while McCarthy has experienced more than a fair share of success in his political career, last week, for him at least, was most certainly a loser.

Kev, who like my own Republican representative in Congress, Jason Smith, does not like to leave anything to chance.  McCarthy, for instance, hasn't held a town hall since June of 2010, preferring, like Rep. Smith and so many other Republican congressmen, to use screened phone calls instead - and with smirks on their faces calling those "town halls."  So it was an odd occurrence last week when an action by Kevin McCarthy brought a bit of fresh air and ridicule to the Republican side of the House.

McCarthy, in the spirit of "professional development," brought in a speaker to enlighten and inspire members of the Republican House leadership.  He made what he assumed was a relatively safe choice and selected Larry Lindsey, the former director of the National Economic Counsel under President George W. Bush, to give a jolt of enthusiasm to his fellow Republicans.

But instead of talking economics, or political strategies, or how to fool the rubes, or even sharing possible plot twists for Game of Thrones, Lindsey instead went off on a verbal tirade about Donald John Trump!  And to make matters worse, the national media got wind of his remarks!

Larry Lindsey said that he had enlisted two psychiatrists to study Trump - at a distance - and that they had concluded Trump was a "total narcissist," or, in clearer terms, "a 10-out-of-10 narcissist."  That is something that much of America already knew, and even something that most of those dopey congressmen also knew, but it was not something that they expected to hear stated as fact in a public setting - and especially stated by a speaker brought into address them on their own dime!

Larry Lindsey apparently elaborated on that diagnosis by adding that Trump's mother most likely did not pay adequate attention to him during his formative years - perhaps in much the same manner as he raised his own children.  The speaker also stated for the record that Trump had the long-term decision-making skills of "an empty chair."

Significantly, after that total roast, there was still no one willing among Republicans in Congress to move toward impeaching their extremely flawed President.  Well, not until the end of the week.

Late in the week a young Republican Congressman from Michigan, Justin Amash, became the first sitting GOP member of Congress to call for Trump's impeachment, a move that frosted the cake of a week that McCarthy was having.  The GOP wall of solidarity in defense of Trump had its first crack.

More on Justin Amash tomorrow.

Monday's Poetry: "Snake"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

I have two fairly large brush piles on my property which I intentionally created as sanctuaries for various forms of wildlife which might be in need of a home.   I also have an enormous rock pile that I have been building for the five years that I have called The Roost my home.  I have always regarded that big collection of stones as nothing more than just something else to mow around, but yesterday I made a surprise discovery that the rock pile, like the brush piles, is also a haven for wildlife.

As I was carrying stones from around the yard to the pile yesterday, I happened to notice a beautiful Orange-Striped Ribbonsnake - a type of gartersnake - lying on one of the flat rocks atop the pile warming himself in the sun.  I was too close to the two-foot long snake, and he became uncomfortable and slithered into a crevice in the rock pile and disappeared.

But it was a nice day and he was soon back out atop the pile absorbing the heat from the rocks.  We encountered each other several more times during the afternoon, and the snake gradually got so comfortable in my presence that when I came close he would just raise his head and stare - and then go on sunning himself.

The novelist and poet, D.H. Lawrence, had a similar encounter with a snake early last century at a well in Italy.  Lawrence, standing by with an empty pitcher, at first let the snake drink its fill, and experienced a bonding with the regal creature.    But then, as the snake began to slide away, the writer succumbed to primordial instinct and threw a stick at it - and almost immediately regretted the "pettiness" of his uncalled for attack on the reptile.  Lawrence's snake made good his escape, but the spiritual bond between the poet and the serpent had been irreparably broken.

Here is how D.H. Lawrence describes that emotional encounter:


Snake
D.H. Lawrence

    A snake came to my water-trough

     On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,

     To drink there.

     In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree

     I came down the steps with my pitcher

     And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough

            before me.

     He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom

     And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over

            the edge of the stone trough

     And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,

     And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,

     He sipped with his straight mouth,

     Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,

     Silently.

     Someone was before me at my water-trough,

     And I, like a second-comer, waiting.

     He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,

     And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,

     And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused

             a moment,

     And stooped and drank a little more,

     Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels

            of the earth

     On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.

     The voice of my education said to me

     He must be killed,

     For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold

            are venomous.

     And voices in me said, If you were a man

     You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

     But must I confess how I liked him,

     How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink

            at my water-trough

     And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,

     Into the burning bowels of this earth?

     Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?

     Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?

     Was it humility, to feel so honoured?

     I felt so honoured.

     And yet those voices:

     If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

      

     And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,

     But even so, honoured still more

     That he should seek my hospitality

     From out the dark door of the secret earth.

     He drank enough

     And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,

     And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,

     Seeming to lick his lips,

     And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,

     And slowly turned his head,

     And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,

     Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round

     And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

     And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,

     And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders,

            and entered farther,

     A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into

            that horrid black hole,

     Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing

            himself after,

     Overcame me now his back was turned.

     I looked round, I put down my pitcher,

     I picked up a clumsy log

     And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

     I think it did not hit him,

     But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed

            in an undignified haste,

     Writhed like lightning, and was gone

     Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,

     At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

     And immediately I regretted it.

     I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!

     I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

     And I thought of the albatross,

     And I wished he would come back, my snake.

     For he seemed to me again like a king,

     Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,

     Now due to be crowned again.

     And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords

     Of life.

     And I have something to expiate:

     A pettiness.

Missouri's Bottom-of-the-Barrell Legislators

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Anytime there is a mention of the Missouri Legislature in the news, it is certain to be an account of some outrage against humanity.  My state's legislators, for the most part, go to Jefferson City to serve themselves - and also to make sure that guns remain unregulated and that women's health decisions are made in accordance with the dictates of men - as God intended.

Here are three local examples, all state representatives, or former representatives, in Missouri's 8th congressional district, and all representative of the good old boys who pull themselves up to the lowest branches of state government in the hope of making a few bucks and appearing to be somewhat important to the folks back home.

A few years ago my own representative, a Republican named Shawn Rhoads, made local news when he was identified as being the legislator in the Missouri House of Representatives who ranked eighth in total gifts accepted from lobbyists.  It did not come as a surprise to this humble typist when Rhoads resigned his seat in the legislature last year to go to work for an organization that lobbies the state government.

Then just two months ago I wrote about Missouri State Representative Andrew McDaniel, a former county deputy from the Missouri Bootheel, and a Republican, of course.  McDaniel introduced two gun bills, both shamefully bearing his name and both so egregiously bad that they stand little chance of being passed into law - even in Missouri.  One of those bills, the McDaniel Second Amendment Act, would require all Missouri residents over the age of twenty-one to own a handgun, with early purchasers getting a partial rebate on the price from the state government.  The other bill, the McDaniel Militia Act, would make owning an AR-15 mandatory for state residents between the ages of 18 and 35.

(Politicians put their names on things for a reason, so sadly Missouri can probably expect to hear more from Andrew McDaniel whether it wants to or not.)

Now this week our state legislature has pivoted from guns to vaginas and passed one of the most restrictive abortion bills in the country - and another legislator from southeastern Missouri has managed to get his own fifteen minutes of national fame.  Rep. Barry Hovis, of Jackson, a Republican, and a former police lieutenant in Cape Girardeau, Missouri (the hometown of radio bloviator Rush Limbaugh), was debating the bill on the floor of the House when he referred back to his thirty-year career with the police.  Hovis said that a lot of the rapes that he dealt with during his career in law enforcement were "date rapes" and "consensual rapes."

Hovis' shocking statement reminded many of another Missouri politician, Todd Akin, a Republican who lost a race for the United States Senate after talking about "legitimate" rape, and also his own belief that rape seldom caused pregnancy.

Rep. Hovis  a first-year legislator who would undoubtedly like to serve all of the five two-year-terms that our state constitution allows, has already apologized for his outrageous remark - something that some see as an insight into rural police thinking on the subject of rape.

All of the state representatives mentioned above have three these things in common - besides being male:   they are former police officers, they are Republican, and they represent - or have represented - rural areas steeped in gun culture and male privilege.

And sadly they are all fairly representative of southern Missouri.

Ya'll Come to See Me When You Can!

by Pa Rock
Farmer in Spring

It is a glorious morning here in the Missouri Ozarks with bright blue skies and warm breezes.  The day is made all the more beautiful by the fact that my entire yard is freshly mowed, giving The Roost the appearance of a well-kept hillbilly golf course, one without cars up on blocks and rusted out riding lawnmowers.  Yes, there are a few chickens and cats that serious golfers would have to navigate around, but they are part of the rustic charm.

CNN says that this area will be in for some seriously stormy weather later today, but Alexa, like Trump, says that CNN is full of crap.  Alexa believes our weather here along Missouri's southern border will be picture postcard perfect until Tuesday - and then it may turn to storms.  But after those Tuesday storms - more picture postcard perfect weather!

For those who have been looking for the right time to drop in at The Roost,  this would be it, especially since the yard is mowed and the entire place looks so nice.   Guests are always welcome!  And, as an added bonus (in addition to seeing me), the first few visitors can also take home a fully-weaned kitten!

If Rosie and I should happen to be out playing in a creek somewhere when you arrive, feel free to take a kitten or two anyway!

Ya'll come!

Trump Race-Baits with a New Immigration Proposal

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

When it comes to plopping intellect down on a scale and weighing it, Donald Trump makes George W. Bush look scholarly.  Trump, who doesn't read and speaks at a level near that of an average fifth grader in some under-funded and over-crowded public school, has just released a grand immigration plan - one that he personally did not research or write - in which he promotes an urgency for  bringing more immigrants to America based on "genius" and "brilliance" rather than family connections.

One must assume that he is talking about more immigrants like his wife who came in on an "Einstein" visa before pursuing a career as a clothing-challenged model.  Of course, once G-String Barbie gained that coveted citizenship status, she did bring in her parents from Central Europe.  They were, of course, all Caucasian.

Donald Trump has been told by senior politicians in both parties that his new bill will not be enacted into law - and, in all likelihood he does not care.  The bill really isn't about changing American immigration policy, it is about reminding Trump's base of racist nativists that he is the only person standing between them and hordes of brown and black people pouring over the border and into their neighborhoods.  It is about getting the yahoos fired up for the 2020 presidential election.

Donald Trump doesn't celebrate Cinco de Mayo, and he sure as hell doesn't celebrate diversity.  His slogan of "Make America Great Again" is really a racist dog whistle to "Make America White Again" - and everybody knows it!

What's sad is that while Donald Trump uses this phony maneuver to whip his base into a frenzy, major news outlets in the United States continue to cover the spiel as though it is a serious policy proposal instead of just an election stratagem.   That's the way they covered his campaign in 2016 - giving credibility to Trump's every ridiculous statement and proposal -  and causing people to accept the absurd as somehow realistic.

Donald Trump lies - constantly - and he manipulates people through fear and racial hatred.  That's the story the press really needs to be telling.  That is what is passing for leadership in 2019!

Missouri Ramps Up Its War on Women

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Missouri's hillbilly legislature, at the urging of the state's hillbilly governor, Mike Parson, "worked" until pre-dawn hours last night in an effort to pass a piece of anti-abortion legislation just as odious as Alabama's new law.  The long night session in the state senate left bitterness on both sides of the political aisle with most Democrats loudly fearing that the state is turning its back on the legitimate medical needs of women as well as on the established law of the land  - and some Republicans lamenting that the measure had gotten too "watered down" in the all-night haggling.

But Governor Parson, a former rural county sheriff, is pleased with the legislative action on what he calls "the will of the people," and he has all but ordered the state's house of representatives to pass the same measure by tomorrow so that he can rush his signature onto it before the weekend news cycles and the all-important Sunday national news programs.

Missouri's new attempt is much like the one that Governor Kay Ivey signed in Alabama yesterday.  It punishes doctors who perform abortions on fetuses past eight-weeks (six weeks in Alabama) with prison terms of five to fifteen years (up to ninety-nine years in Alabama).  Women are not subject to punishment for seeking or obtaining abortions, and abortions are allowed for medical emergencies - but NOT for the reasons of rape or incest.

A twelve-year-old girl in Missouri who is impregnated by her brother, father, uncle, or grandfather - or by a rapist who attacks her on the way home from a Girl Scout meeting - and does not realize that she is pregnant until after eight weeks, will be obligated to carry the pregnancy full-term and deliver the baby.   One must suppose that is God's Will - at least in Missouri.

The proposed Missouri statute also contains a measure which would immediately make all abortions illegal within the state in the event the U.S. Supreme Court overturns Roe v Wade.

Missouri, like so many other rural states, shows strong support for fetuses, but once a child is born the state does everything within its power to stymie the kid's health, education, and general well-being.  God may want to protect those pregnancies, but the devil can take the kids once they slide through the birth canal.

Missouri's legislators routinely pass every bill that ALEC hands them, and beyond that they are interested in three things:  spreading the ownership of guns among white Missourians, controlling vaginas, and stuffing their pockets with gifts from lobbyists.

For all of the actual good that they do, the state would be better off sending the legislators home and then partitioning the Capitol Building into lofts and condos.  At least that way our citizens would be safer, and a few would benefit from nice housing with a grand view of the Missouri River!

Driving Distracted

by Pa Rock
Road Warrior

The past two days I have been on the road - a lot!  Yesterday I went to Mountain Home and Gassville, Arkansas, (about 60 miles from my home) for a couple of medical appointments.  The first was around noon and went relative easy, except for the inconvenience of having my eyes dilated and then having to drive to the next one wearing sunglasses.  The second appointment was at 3:30, and the physician finally shuffled in at 4:30.  By that time he was tired and just wanted to sit and chat - and I didn't get away until a quarter past five.

Rosie was fit to be tied by the time I finally got home!

Today I had an early morning appointment in Springfield - which is a hundred miles down the road west of West Plains.  While I was in the doctor's waiting room, I saw an electronic bulletin board with suggestions for successful medical appointments - one of which said to try and avoid late afternoon appointments because patients are more likely to be tired and forget to mention things to the doctors late in the day.  Remembering my experience from the previous day, I thought - Yes, and the doctors are more apt to be further behind at the end of the day.

I didn't see anything of note on the foray down into Arkansas yesterday, but on today's drive across southern Missouri I encountered three Trump bumper stickers, all on nice, but plain, pick-up trucks that were driven by old white men - human fossils in my age range.  Two said "Trump / Pence" and the other read simply "Make America Great Again."

The surest way to make America great again, at least to my way of thinking, is to vote Trump and Pence out of office - and possibly imprison their sorry asses - but I digress.

Somehow or other I also started pondering the party game, "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" - and realized that I had never measured by own separation from the star of the original "Footloose."  I came up with two answers:

First, I know my youngest son, Tim, a screenwriter from the Kansas City area.  Tim knows actor Michael Angarano who was the male lead in Tim's first move, "The Brass Teapot."   Angarano, in turn, played Jack's (Sean Hayes') adolescent son on the television sitcom "Will and Grace" - and Kevin Bacon did a guest episode or two on that series where he played opposite Will and Jack.  All of that puts three individuals - or degrees of separation between me and Kev.

But then, depending on how the rules are interpreted, I can also chart a path with just one degree of separation between myself and Kevin Bacon.   Way back in 2004 while I was visiting my niece in London, she and I attended a performance of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" at the Globe Theatre - a reproduction of William Shakespeare's original theatrical playhouse.  We were in the cheap seats, which meant we were down front standing in front of the stage where the other peasants used to gather to watch performances - as opposed to the more expensive benches and boxed seating further back.

The star of that performance as a Spanish actress named Yoland Vasquezz who played Beatrice.  Miss Vasquez also starred in the basketball movie from several years earlier entitled "The Air Up There."  She played a smart-mouth nun working in a rural African mission - and the main object of her ire was Kevin Bacon.  So, if standing ten feet away from someone counts as "knowing" that person, then I am separated from Kevin Bacon by only one person, the beautiful Yolanda Vasquez!

The older I get, the easier I am to entertain!

Trump Set to Raise Prices at Walmart

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

American stock markets were on a roll yesterday - downhill.   Investors, it seems, are getting antsy about Donald Trump's economic war with China.  As Trump's fiction about China paying the tariffs that his administration has placed on Chinese imports begins to be exposed for the lie it is, more and more Americans are coming to realize that they are the ones who will be paying those new taxes.

And it is places like Walmart, not only America's largest business but also our country's chief importer of foreign goods, where those new taxes will be felt - in the form of rising prices.

Attention Walmart Shoppers:  Donald Trump has his hand in your pocket!

But Trump's tariffs are affecting more than just the Chinese junk that crowds the shelves at Walmart.  His ill-advised foreign policy of petulance and pomposity has also had an effect on the buying habits of China.  One of the first ways that China retaliated was to drastically cut its purchases of certain U.S. agricultural products, and soybeans in particular.  The soybean boycott had such a drastic impact of the fortunes of farmers in America's heartland that the Trump administration quickly went to Congress and asked for financial relief for the soybean growers.  Now, he's back for a second helping and asking for even more money to relieve the suffering of America's farmers - suffering that was caused by his rash actions.

Farmers have spent decades building up trade relationships with China, and now many of those relationships have been undermined and destroyed.  Many of those affected see  government subsidies as a bandaid, something that will help in the short term, but will do little to get the old trade relationships back on track.  China is locating other suppliers of soybeans, and American growers suddenly find themselves in the awkward position of holding their hands out for government welfare payments.

Trump stormed into a trade war with China, but the first victims were Walmart shoppers and American farmers - significant segments of his base.  He may harbor a grand fantasy of being a fearsome generalissimo, but in reality Donald Trump is little more than a bumbler who thinks he is far more intelligent than he actually is.

Donald Trump may not know that he is in over his head, but the people who shop at Walmart are about to find out how incompetent he actually is.

Monday's Poetry: Glass Bottom Boat

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Singer and actress Doris Day passed away at her home in Carmel, California, earlier today.  The effervescent Miss Day, who sang with several bands during the heyday of "Big Bands" and later starred in a raft of romantic film comedies from the 1950's and 1960's, was ninety-seven at the time of her death.

Doris Day was perhaps best known for her film pairings with Rock Hudson and for her signature song, "Que Sera, Sera."  Another of her best loved songs was "Sentimental Journey" with Les Brown's band.

In addition to being a singer and film acresss, Doris Day was well known and respected for her animal rescue work.

In 1966 Doris Day starred in a comedy about the tour boat business that carried passengers from the California coast to Catalina Island.  That movie, Glass Bottom Boat, featured a raft of stars at the time including Arthur Godfrey, Paul Lynde, Rod Taylor, Dom DeLuise, Dick Martin, Ellen Corby, and an uncredited Robert Vaughn.  In it the 44-year-old actress played one of her last movie roles as the cheerful girl next door who could sing her way through any situtaiton.

I went to see Glass Bottom Boat not because I was an ardent Doris Day fan - I wasn't -  but because I had heard through family stories that one of my grand-uncles (my paternal grandmother's brother), Earl Nutt, had made his personal fortune through owning and operating glass bottom boats between the California coast and Catalina.  I didn't learn anything about Uncle Earl from the film, but I did get some sense of what his business might have been like.

Today's poetry selection is the lyrics to the "Glass Bottom Boat," the theme song of the film.  Since I wrote about fish in this space yesterday, and in particular one evil old blowfish, I thought it was very apropos to find a piece that mentions blowfish again today.

With best wishes for a peaceful repose to Doris Day and thoughts of sympathy for her loved ones, here is a happy memory from her singing and film career,


The Glass Bottom Boat
by Joe Lubin

All aboard, all aboard
On the glass bottom boat
It's the greatest show that was ever afloat
Take a ride on the tide with the guide and see
The way out wonders of the deep blue sea

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea
There's a lot to see, in the deep blue sea
The sailfish sail and the blowfish blow
Cockles & mussels alive-alive-o

The hermit crab, he lives alone
You can't even get him on the telephone
The halibut's eyes turn up and in
He don't know where he's going, but he knows where he's been

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea
There's a lot to see in the deep blue sea
The glass bottom boat, you will agree
Can show you the magic of the deep blue sea

Spiney crabs and white fish too
Will all be there, what a hullabaloo
With so many fish upon the sea
There's hardly room for a fat sardine

The deep blue sea, the deap blue sea
There's a lot goin' on in the deep blue sea
Oh life on the glass bottom boat is great
(I'm the captain) You could use a mate

Now the turtle is slow, but not so dumb
He has his own condominium
A bluebird oyster was caught with "foyle"
He "swoyre" he didn't even know the "goyle"

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea
There's a lot to see in the deep blue sea
The glass bottom boat, you will agree
Can show you the magic of the deep blue sea

The flyin' fish was an awful ham
Made a three-point landing in a fryin' pan
The porpoise has the most hutzpah
But the whales are ones with the built-in showers
Starfish, starfish, two-pence all
Abelone in the casserole
Winding, binding, joining up
Is growing, growing, growing up
Ahhh...

A Tale of Goldfish, Barracudas, Whales, and an Arrogant Old Blowfish

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

As a proud American who is no longer shackled to the opinions of television news journalists, I occasionally find myself playing catchup on some of the trending political thought.  This past week when I suddenly had access to cable news programming for several days, I encountered an emerging idea that I found interesting, particularly since it aligned with my own fears on the matter.

I like to think of the Democratic presidential field as a pool of little goldfish, each candidate sparkling and shining in their own particular ways as they try to be noticed.  As they gain attention the golden fish swell in size, and eventually one will grow so large that he or she will be able to jump from that pool into the larger one where it will fight for dominance with Trump, the surly and arrogant blowfish.

Life in the pool was going along swimmingly until an old barracuda named Bernie decided that he wanted to  splash in and stir things up a little.  Four years earlier he had fought for dominance in the same pool and had damned near been successful.  Now, as he swam among the alarmed goldfish, he was more determined than ever to become the boss of them.

And Bernie probably would have remained the terror of the goldfish pool if an old gray whale named Joe had not suddenly flopped in and created a monster wave that crashed down on the dreams and ambitions of the little goldfish, throwing them out of the pool or suffocating them under tons of centrist blubber.  Fresh ideas, youth, vigor, and energy could all be damned, because it was Joe's turn to be king of the pool and to challenge Trump the Blowfish.  Seniority mattered, damnit!

Last week while watching cable news and listening to the prognosticators repeat each other, it became apparent that not only is Joe Biden now the presumed nominee, Kamala Harris is his presumed running mate.  Somewhere buttons and tee-shirts are already being emblazoned with "Biden-Harris 2020!"

It should be game-over, but . . .

The people attending the Demoratic caucuses and voting in the Democratic presidential primaries are Democrats, after all, a notorious group of free-thinkers, and they may want to have a say in the matter.

Being the Democratic nominee is not a right reserved to people who have managed to survive the cobwebs of time, it is a privilege given by the people.  The party that nominated Jack Kennedy and Barack Obama may once again reach for a young beacon of hope to lead us into the future.  If there ever was a time when the party needed a dynamic and youthful alternative to the ancient blowfish, this is it!

Fight on, Goldfish - because vigor, enthusiasm, and fresh ideas all matter!

Donald Duck, Maybe

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I arrived home just before noon today after spending the better part of a week being a tourist and conventioneer in beautiful St. Charles, Missouri.  One of the first tasks that I face after returning from a trip is to go through the mail that accumulated during my absence.  Today's stack included four newspapers, bank statements, one catalogue, and an interesting assortment of advertisements, all but one of which I tore up without even opening.

(Alas, there were no long, newsy letters from adoring grandchildren!)

The one advertisement that I did choose to open had a garish warning on the envelope which said that I was eligible to buy a genuine Donald Trump presidential coin.  At first glance I was embarrassed to have been lumped in with all of the wife-beating, white-trash, meth manufacturers who populate the local country lanes - but I opened the packet anyway.

Inside I found a picture of the new coin with Trump's obese head on one side and a trim and fit American eagle on the other.  Also included was a timeline showing Trump's "achievements" from birth to the presidency -  a rather short list that included the completion of Trump Tower, the opening (but not the closing) of the Taj Mahal Casino, and Trump getting a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. There were, of course, no markers for graduate degrees, military service, international humanitarian awards - or things like that.

Several warnings about the need to rush to order because of "limited availability" were included - as well as a notice that the offer was "restricted" to one per customer.  Making something appear to be scarce is a marketing ploy, a fake urgency that even Trump the con-man and Trump the failed businessman would be able to understand and appreciate.

But I resisted.

And the price?  A modest forty dollars ($39.99) as well as an also modest five dollars ($4.95) for shipping - and handling.  (But purchasers could place their orders in a pre-paid, addressed envelope - and that shipping and handling was free!)

The people promoting this offense against good taste wasted their postage on me because Pa Rock ain't about to blow $45.00 of his hard-earned retirement income to show some respect for Donald John Trump.  Donald Duck, maybe - but Donald Trump, hell no!

(Perhaps the private "mint" that produced this masterpiece would come nearer making a profit if they did a FLOTUS series instead - and struck a coin featuring G-string Barbie on one side, and perhaps Stormy Daniels with a rolled-up newspaper on the other.  Those would probably sell like hotcakes - at least in my neighborhood!)

DNA and Property Maps

by Pa Rock
Researcher

My third day at the conference focused on four more workshops, one dealing with DNA, two others that were focused on using old property maps in genealogy, and a final one that dealt with the records that the federal government stores at a special facility in St. Louis - and how to access those records.

The National Archives has several storage centers around the country, but one of the most important repositories is in St. Louis.   It was intended to house all U.S. military records after the Civil War era, but a huge fire there back in the early 1970's destroyed most of those records.  (The fire was fought by over forty fire departments and burned for four days.). The facility also has draft registration cards for both world wars, and documents from other government such as the ones created during the 1930's to combat the Great Depression.

(I dealt with the St. Louis branch of the National Archives  several years ago when I contacted them to obtain my great-grandfather's WPA work records.  I was very satisfied with the Archives quick and thorough response, but the service was pricey - seventy dollars for a dozen or so time sheets!)

The workshops dealing with early property maps were especially interesting to me.  Recently I spent a lot of time in a county courthouse researching seventy-five land transfers to which another of my great-grandfather's was a party.  I was able to use that information to track several places where he actually lived, as well as identify how he got his start in buying and selling property - and where the high-rolling land man saw the end of his business career with a sheriff's sale.  There is a lot to be learned in property transfers.

The DNA workshop was a promotion from a British company that is working on technology that may - at some point in the future - actually be able to provide people with a family tree generated by their DNA samples.  That's a long way off, but I suspect that is where the field of genetic genealogy is headed, and that we will be there sooner rather than later.

There is one more day of workshops, but I am literally worn down and may head for home in the morning.

Daddy's coming, Rosie!

DNA and Wars

by Pa Rock
Researcher

I have now completed two full days at the National Genealogical Society's annual Family History Conference.  Yesterday I attended two workshops dealing with the new practice of using DNA in the process of trying to identify ancestors, and one workshop that explained a program for finding military records on the internet.

Today I  attended four workshops, again focusing on DNA research and military history records.  The DNA class dealt with how to  figure relationship probabilities when working with DNA.   This class looked at some genealogy programs that have features which can calculate possible relationships when  people have matching segments in their DNA - and also explored some some facts which should be considered when trying determine the most likely relationships.

The three military classes focused on records relating to three separate wars in United States history.  One dealt with researching ancestors who fought in the revolutionary war, and another involved official records for Union and Confederate soldiers and sailors of the Civil War and explained ways to access those records - both over the internet as well as through government agencies.

The third military workshop centered on bounty land grants that were awarded to individuals who served in the War of 1812.   Most of those individuals eventually received 160 acres of land from the government, much of it in Illinois, Missouri, and Arkansas.  Veterans who applied for these land grants often submitted long , handwritten statements detailing their personal history and military service, and many were accompanied by statements of others who served with the people who were trying to claim their land grants.  In addition to all of that good narrative information that can be incorporated into a family history, these land grant records also give information that identifies the military units in which the service members served - and a researcher can use that to locate copies of the individual's service record.

Military record gathering used to be done slowly and laboriously through the mail  or with visits to government respoitories of records - such as the National Archives in Washington, DC.   But now much has been digitized and is available over the internet.  That easy access, particularly when combined with with the new research avenues opening up with DNA analysis, is transforming genealogy into a far more dynamic endeavor than it has ever been before.

A novice researcher can begin doing genealogy at home, and with all of the new tools available and easy access to records, they can accumulate vast amounts of information easily, quickly, and relatively inexpensively.   For those who have thought about rolling up their sleeves and getting to work collecting the family history, this is an ideal time to do it!