Happy Eighth Birthday, Willow!

by Pa Rock
Proud Grandpa

My Oregon granddaughter, Willow Files, is eight-years-old today.  Pa Rock wishes that he could be with her today to celebrate, but he is happy to know that she is enjoying the day with her family and will have her friends over for a party this afternoon.

Party hearty, Willow!

I usually make it out to see Willow and her brothers, Sebastian and Judah, two times a year.  The last time that I was there, about a month ago, I joined Willow's brothers and parents in watching her and her team play soccer one Saturday morning.  There were several games going on at once, and lots and lots of young kids running around in their team tee-shirts, but I don't think that I saw anyone who was having as much fun as Willow.  She was very quick, kept her eye on the ball, and knew exactly what she was doing.  I was very impressed!

Willow was very busy, too, that evening a couple of years ago when we went to a local art gallery in her hometown to meet a pair of real Disney princesses:  Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella.  All of the young girls who came to that art event dressed up as princesses themselves, and Willow was "Belle" from "Beauty and the Beast."  The big gallery was full of young princesses, but I don't think that any of them had more fun than Willow!

Willow, today is also the birthday of Mark Twain, one of my favorite authors.  He was born in Missouri - where I live.   I hope that you enjoy some of his books as you get older - and maybe someday when you come to see me we can go on a float trip down the river like Huck Finn and Jim did in Mark Twain's most famous book, "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."    Girls can have adventures, too!

Happy birthday, Sweetie.  I hope you have a wonderful day!

Biden and Bloomberg Warn America About the Evils of Pot

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

First we had seventy-seven-year-old Joe Biden, America's fogbound grandfather, yammering on about marijuana being a "gateway" drug, and now we have seventy-seven-year-old Mike Bloomberg, America's cranky grand-uncle with all the money, telling us that pot is addictive and that legalizing pot is perhaps "the stupidest thing that anybody has ever done."

At a time in which the country needs to be gearing up to remove a senile and mean-spirited geriatric from the White House, the Democratic Party seems hellbent on finding someone to head its ticket who is even older and more out-of-touch with the will of the people than Donald Trump.

Well, I'm sorry, but I just ain't a-gonna drink that kool-aid.

For too many years we have sat idly by as a nation while our leaders have valiantly fought a "war on drugs" which did nothing to combat the criminal enterprises spawned through the illegal importation and distribution of hard and addictive drugs, and instead clogged the courts and prisons with the poor and primarily people of color whose "crime" was often just the possession of small amounts of marijuana for personal use.   That was the "war," a bunch of hooey whose primary objective was to take young black males off of the streets.

Fortunately for the United States of America, the Democratic Party has a rich field of candidates from which to choose its standard bearer for the 2020 election, and we don't have to be saddled with someone who graduated from high school in the 1950's.  Our candidate no longer has to be male, and if he is male, he no longer has to be white, and if he is white, he no longer has to be straight.  Aside from the three Big B's - Biden, Bloomberg, and Bernie - we have the most exciting and diverse field of candidates to ever seek the presidency.

The Democratic Party will not get to the right of Donald Trump in 2020, nor should it try to.     The times are changing, and the Democratic Party's platform and candidates need to reflect those changes.  The Republican Party is steeped in bigotries and defense of privilege, and if Democrats are to be relevant they must be open and welcoming to masses who will never truly have a home within the GOP.

A lot of those people are women who feel they should be paid on par with men and have control over their own bodies, gays who feel they have just as much right to marry and raise families and live out in the open as anyone else, people of color who feel they should be able to move into any neighborhood and send their children to any school that they desire, and old hippies who just want to sit back, take a toke or three, and listen to "Dark Side of the Moon."

And any candidate who can't open his (or her) arms to all of those groups, does not need to be running for President in 2020.

Happy Holidays from @CenturyLink!

by Pa Rock
Wifi Thief

It's Thanksgiving morning, but instead of being curled up on the couch with a turkey drumstick watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on by beautiful big-screen television, I am sitting in my car outside of the local McDonald's dining on a sausage biscuit and stealing wifi to post today's blog.  And to frost this fine holiday cake, a cold rain is falling.

My wifi at home went out the night before last during a storm.  Having dealt with my ISP, @CenturyLink, for years, I knew the routine for checking my home connection, and was able to determine that it was a line issue outside of the house.  Surely someone would be out taking care of it.

(Wifi at my house controls my computer usage, television access, and Alexa.  Without it I am reduced to reading books and listening to radio - and only one station comes in on my old beater of a radio.)

Service was still out yesterday afternoon, so I called the local CenturyLink repairman directly - and left a message.  He was undoubtedly out working the lines to get everyone reconnected.  That must be why he never called me back.

This morning with still no internet service, I called the main number and got on the disinformation telephone carousel for about ten minutes before the company finally got tired of harassing me and put a human on the line.   Eventually the lady conceded that I had been right all along and it was a line issue.  She scheduled a service provider to come to my home - on Monday - between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m.

Or, translated, their service provider was home enjoying a holiday weekend with his family, but he will come by to see me on Monday.  Please be sure that someone can be available all day so he can get in and do his job.

Pa Rock is retired - and he will be home - even if he has other things that he would like to be doing.  But he wonders:  what do working people do in the same situation?

There ought to be a law against causing a Macy to miss the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!

Happy holidays from @CenturyLink!

Bloomberg Buys His Way into the Race

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Former New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who not too long ago was a registered Republican, is now an official Democratic wannabe candidate for President of the United States.  Bloomberg, the ninth richest person in the US and the fourteenth richest in the world, became a late entrant into the Democratic race this week.   To mark the seriousness of his effort, the former NYC mayor, let the world know that he would be placing $37 million in advertising for his candidacy over the next three weeks - that's $37 million out of his own extremely deep pocket!

By entering the race at this late date, Bloomberg avoided much of the mud-slinging and impoliteness that marked the early days of the race as the many other candidates struggled to draw attention to themselves and disparage heir opponents.  Bloomberg hopes to begin and stay above all of that vulgar political coarseness.

Michael Bloomberg, being a billionaire with political experience in both parties, undoubtedly knows what Americans want - or at least what should be in their best interest - from the perspective of a billionaire.

There is no need to bemoan the fact that he is seventy-seven-years-old and will be seventy-eight in less that three months - on Valentines Day.  Fog-bound Joe Biden is seventy-seven also, and Bernie-with-the-bad-ticker is seventy-eight.  When it comes to age, Mike is snuggled in cozily among his peers.    And does it really matter that they are all older - by three to four years - than Donald John Trump?

Joe Biden, when he is lucid, calls all of that age stuff "experience."

Bloomberg is preparing to vitalize his seventy-seven years of experience by stirring in piles of personal wealth and spreading it thickly over the process we once hailed as "democracy," and Democrats, being Democrats, will probably let him get away with it.  He is just another billionaire buying what he wants.

Janet Wright's Doppelgänger

by Pa Rock
Television Fan

As I mentioned in this space the past couple of days, the Kansas Macys and I attended a performance of "A Christmas Carol" at the KC Rep in Kansas City this past Sunday evening.  It was the fourth year in a row that we have been able to see the wonderful stage production of Charles Dickens' timeless tale of the magic of Christmas.

As we were fixing to leave the theatre I caught a look at a lady in front of me as she was gathering her stuff, and I stood there staring, dumbfounded because I knew her - but could not think of who she was.   The poor lady returned my stare, leading me to think that perhaps I had struck some chord of familiarity with her as well.  She appeared to be close to my age, and I made an assumption that she was probably someone I had known in college.

As we were leaving the theatre, I noticed her and her party walking up the ramp to the exit on the opposite side of the auditorium and I pointed her out to my son and daughter-in-law.  "The lady in the checked dress is someone I know, but I can't remember who she is."  They both resisted the urge to suggest putting me into a home, and we made our way outside among the crowds headed toward the parking lots.

As we were nearing our car, I heard the woman - heard her!  Although I had not heard her speak inside of the theatre, I knew it was her speaking because I recognized her voice!  I turned and there she was - her and a man about her age and another couple.  At that point I decided that I had to say something, although it was sure to sound stupid.  As they stepped along beside us, I turned to the woman and said, "Excuse my rudeness, but I think that I must know you.  I'm Rocky Macy and I attended SMS."  (Southwest Missouri State)

She smiled back and said, very pleasantly, "Did you ever work at Hallmark during the past twenty-five years?"

I hadn't.  (Hallmark Cards is a major employer in Kansas City.)

Then the other lady in her group snarked, "Maybe you saw her picture in a restroom someplace!"  Giggles all around.

But I knew the face and I knew the voice - and I was truly bothered and perplexed.

Yesterday on the long drive home as Rosie and I were listening to holiday music on the radio and watching the world fly by, I suddenly realized who the mystery woman was.  For the past several months I have been watching a Canadian sitcom called "Corner Gas" which ran for 107  episodes from 2004 through 2009.  The woman whom I had confronted the night before was Janet Wright, the actress who played Emma Leroy, the star's mother in the show.  She was her spitting image and even had the identical distinctive voice.  There had been one actor on the stage the night before who had appeared in several U.S. sitcoms, and perhaps she had been in the Kansas City area and came to see him - or some other thespian friend - perform.

And shame on Ms. Wright for keeping me guessing the night before!

This morning I determined to write Janet Wright a fan letter and post it in this blog, a letter in which I might poke a little fun at her for not admitting who she was to the unwashed masses.   But before I got started on the letter, I hopped on over to Google to see if I could determine her Kansas City connections.

But Janet Wright had no Kansas City connections - in fact she was completely unplugged.  Janet Wright had passed away in November of 2016 in Vancouver, Canada - and unless she was the Ghost of Christmas Present, it was someone entirely different whom I had harassed at the play.

A Doppelgänger at "A Christmas Carol."    How very apropos!

Rest in peace, Janet Wright.

(More later on "Corner Gas,"  which touts itself as the most popular sitcom in the history of Canadian television.  In addition to the 107 episodes, it had its own movie version and a cartoon spinoff.  The show is available over Amazon Prime.  Very funny stuff!)

Monday's Poetry: "How to Foretell a Change in the Weather"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Rosie and I made it home from our big adventure in the Kansas burbs of Kansas City about an hour ago.  We had a great time, and the event was capped off, for me - but not for Rosie - with the Kansas Macy family and myself attending the KC Rep's annual production of A Christmas Carol.  This year Olive was able to bring along a couple of her girl cousins, and they had a great time sitting on the front row - especially when the Ghost of Christmas Present glitter-bombed them.  After the show they busied themselves scooping up glitter to put in their hair.

This was our fourth year of being able to enjoy this wonderful holiday event.  The new artistic director for the theatre company polled the audience before the show to see how many years people had been attending.  There were a few people with over thirty years in attendance, and one couple was at the thirty-five year mark!

The show changes some every year.   This year it was shorter than last year, or at least that is what we decided after the show.  I thought the ghosts were also scarier.  The Ghost of Christmas Past was a young blonde lady, obviously a professional dancer, who wore a silky diaphanous white dress and had her hair pulled up and wild, looking as though it might be flames.  She rose through the floor of the stage just feet from where I was sitting and actually startled me with the suddenness of her appearance.  There were also lots of special effects using projectors, and the smoke and fog of old London was constant, drifting out into the audience.

And that entire cake of a play was frosted with wonderful carolers in Victorian costumes!

It was truly a delightful evening - just like it has been every time we have been fortunate enough to attend. Next year we hope to bring Sully along and let him become acquainted with Mr. Scrooge and his friends.

Saturday when Rosie and I drove to Kansas City, we encountered some snow in southern Missouri.  Today, on the return trip, the temperature was in the sixties, and I had the air conditioner on for part of the way.  Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to reach into the seventies - which should allow me to complete the fall mowing of the leaves here at Rock's Roost.

The weather is changing rapidly.

Last week I came across a poem on The Writer's Almanac by Ted Kooser, a former poet laureate of the United States, which gives some really good advice on "How to Foretell a Change in the Weather."  In fact, that is the title of the poem.  So for all of you who don't have time to read through the various almanacs to ferret out all of the old wive's tales regarding the weather, this poem offers a nice summary.  Parts of it I know from personal experience are true.

This will help keep you ahead of Alexa when it comes to predicting the weather!


How to Foretell a Change in the Weather
by Ted Kooser

Rain always follows the cattle
sniffing the air and huddling
in fields with their heads to the lee.
You will know that the weather is changing
when your sheep leave the pasture
too slowly, and your dogs lie about
and look tired; when the cat
turns her back to the fire,
washing her face, and the pigs
wallow in litter; cocks will be crowing
at unusual hours, flapping their wings;
hens will chant; when your ducks
and your geese are too noisy,
and the pigeons are washing themselves;
when the peacocks squall loudly
from the tops of the trees,
when the guinea fowl grates;
when sparrows chirp loudly
and fuss in the roadway, and when swallows
fly low, skimming the earth;
when the carrion crow
croaks to himself, and wild fowl
dip and wash, and when moles
throw up hills with great fervor;
when toads creep out in numbers;
when frogs croak; when bats
enter the houses; when birds
begin to seek shelter,
and the robin approaches your house;
when the swan flies at the wind,
and your bees leave the hive;
when ants carry their eggs to and fro,
and flies bite, and the earthworm
is seen on the surface of things.

Holiday Music and Movies

by Pa Rock
Holiday Reveler

Call me sentimental, but I'm one of those people who really enjoys the sights and sounds of the holiday season.

I mentioned yesterday that I had listened to Christmas songs most of the way from West Plains to Kansas City, finding radio stations in both Springfield and Kansas City that were already playing continuous holiday favorites - and it's not even Thanksgiving yet!

Actually, I heard the first song of the season on the radio way back on October 31st - I marked it on my calendar - when a West Plains station played "Walking Around in Women's Underwear" by Bob Rivers.   That old chestnut, which is sung to the tune of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland," always gets me into the holiday spirit!  Another favorite, which I haven't heard yet this year, is Elmo and Patsy's lovely "Gramma Got Run Over by a Reindeer."   It's hard not to be in a festive mood with good music like that serving as the holiday soundtrack!

And then there's the movies!  I've mentioned here before that my favorite Christmas film is "The Ref," a 1994 comedy based loosely on O. Henry's "The Ransom of Red Chief," in which a bungling burglar, Denis Leary, kidnaps a couple in an effort to avoid the police.  Unfortunately for the burglar, he soon learns that he has kidnapped the couple from hell - and he gets swept up into their family battles.  "The Ref" is a great flick that highlights the raging emotions that often erupt during holiday gatherings.

I also like "Home Alone" which looks at the pleasant aspects of celebrating the season without the complications of family.  And, for those wanting a third great holiday movie for the Christmas season, there is always Bruce Willis in the original "Die Hard."  It just doesn't get much more festive than that!

Tonight, however, the Kansas Macys and Pa Rock will be soaking up some live Christmas entertainment as they enjoy their holiday tradition of attending the KC Rep's annual performance of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol."  That Ebenezer fellow sure knew how to squeeze the most out of the season!

May all of your pre-Thanksgiving Christmas activities be as merry and special as mine!

Snow, and Buggies, and Cops - Oh, My!

by Pa Rock
Road Warrior

Rosie and I are in the Kansas City burbs following a long drive from West Plains.  The trip was bleak and fairly uneventful.  We encountered a couple of brief snow showers east of Springfield, but nothing that slowed traffic or seemed to make the roads dangerous.

I encountered two Amish gentlemen  crossing four lanes of traffic in their horse-drawn buggies in the vicinity of Diggins, Missouri.  That was where it was trying to snow, which probably explains why the men were alone in their buggies.

This is the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and the Missouri Highway Patrol was out in full force.  I noticed one patrolman who had a poor motorist pulled over for some road crime, another who seemed to be assisting a motorist with vehicle maintenance issues, and a third who was just lurking along the side of the road.

But it was the fourth patrolman who rattled me.  I was just cruising along north of Bolivar in an area in which many speed, and not paying attention, when I pulled out to pass a newer looking black sedan.  It wasn't until I pulled up even with the other car that I noticed it was a highway patrolman in his official vehicle.  Being committed to passing, I went ahead and completed the maneuver.  Fortunately I was going the speed limit!  Then I carefully signaled and pulled back into the right lane where I stayed for many miles.   That patrolman was doing 60 m.p.h. in a 65 zone, and he was really clogging traffic.  Finally drivers started following my example and passing him - very carefully.

Rosie and I stopped at the Osceola Cheese store in Osceola, Missouri, for a bathroom break.  She took hers outside, and I went inside for mine.  I also had hopes of buying some of their wonderful Amish cheeses, but I arrived just after two tour buses of old farts and fartettes stormed the place.  I made it to the bathroom, but couldn't get anywhere near the checkout register  because of all of the blue hairs who were sampling cheeses and filling their baskets with cheese and tourist crap - so I left cheeseless.

I managed to find holiday music on the radio for almost the entire trip.

One thing of interest on this long drive was that I saw no political bumper stickers or yard signs.  I thought that was odd because every mile that I drove - except for the Kansas City area - was Trump country.  I'm wondering if some of his people are beginning to get embarrassed by his ceaseless rampaging ignorance and don't want to draw attention to themselves.  Embarrassed or not, I suspect that most will vote for him anyway.

I did catch a snippet of two ladies chatting on the radio during the drive.  They were promoting some flavor of Christianity and talking about how a group of witches had placed a curse on Trump.  One of them mentioned "white" magic, and the other cautioned that any "magic" that is not based in Christian teachings is rooted in evil.  The ladies were very pro-Trump and extremely anti-evil - and possibly schizophrenic and likely bi-polar!!

Tomorrow evening we are headed out to see the Kansas City Rep's production of  "A Christmas Carol."  It will be the fourth year in a row in which we have celebrated the start of the holiday season with Mr. Scrooge and his friends!

Arizona Humanitarian Walks Free

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I have written about the humanitarian group in southern Arizona called "No More Deaths" in this space and on several occasions for over a period of more than ten years.  The group is known primarily for giving life-saving aid and comfort to immigrants from Mexico who are attempting to walk across the Sonoran Desert from Mexico to the United States.  It's members leave full water jugs and food along the paths frequented by the immigrant travelers.

The government has tried a variety of measures to stop this flow of humanity from south of the border.  The first piece that I penned regarding the situation was in July of 2008 when the U.S. Border Patrol had arrested a young high school Spanish teacher out of Tucson for "littering."  What Dainel Millis had actually been doing was leaving full jugs of water in the desert to save the lives of immigrants - and, to further compound the government's weak case - Millis had actually been picking up trash as he distributed the life-saving water.

Government enforcement of its rules and regulations against humanitarian work at the border waxed and waned for several years, but with the advent of the Trump administration, pressure was once again placed on U.S. agents at the border to crack down on the do-gooders who were offering aid to the migrants who were entering the country on foot.

In January of 2018 another educator, geography instructor Dr. Scott Daniel Warren of Arizona State University, was arrested at his home near Ajo, Arizona, along with two immigrants from Mexico.  Dr. Warren was charged with two federal counts of "harboring" and one of "conspiracy" for giving "aid and comfort" to immigrants.   In June of this year a hung jury failed to reach a verdict and charges were dismissed, but the government refiled and a new trial was held this month.

During the first trial Dr. Warren faced a possible twenty years in prison for his supposed actions, but the government dropped the conspiracy charge for the second trial, and ten years in prison was the maximum to which Dr. Warren could have been sentenced .   This week the case went to the jury, and after just two-and-a-half hours of deliberation, the college professor was found not guilty of the major charges against him.  (He may still face some minor punishment for operating a motor vehicle in a restricted zone.)

Congratulations to Dr. Scott Warren and to all of the good people who worked so long and hard to bring this case to a just conclusion.    Who could have ever imagined a United States of America where people would be hauled into court and charged with crimes for giving life-saving aid to people in need?  The work of "No More Deaths" and other humanitarian organizations whose members risk their own lives and freedom so that others may survive is truly an affirmation of shared humanity and a blessing for us all - and for that we should be thankful.

May the day soon come when there are no more deaths along our southern border, and the United States is once again a beacon of freedom to a troubled world.

"Brigham City": A Mormon Murder Mystery

by Pa Rock
Film Fan

A pair of unusual circumstances came together over the past few days which resulted in me being able to watch some really great movies.  First, I am apparently caught up on all of the television series that have captured my attention over the past couple of years, and second, my wifi signal has stabilized for some reason, allowing me to watch movies in the evenings with little or no interruption.   And during this hot streak of television accessibility over the Roku streaming device, Amazon's Prime has coughed up some primo movies.

I am a fan of the mystery genre, and, as such, I have watched nearly all of the wonderful crime fiction shows put out by the BBC over the past few decades.  I also subscribe to two short story mystery publications (Alfred Hitchcock. Mystery Magazine  and Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine), enjoy mystery novels, and occasionally stumble upon a good mystery movie on which to sharpen my imagined skills of deduction.

A few days ago I made a selection off of Prime, an older movie called "Brigham City" (2001) that was advertised as a tale about a small town in Utah where nothing ever happened - and suddenly had to deal with a serial killer.  It was an independent film that boasted only one star that I had ever heard of - former oatmeal salesman Wilford Brimley.  But it was a slow evening - and what the heck.  I decided to start it and see if it would hold my interest.

It did.

"Brigham City" is a fictional tale that focuses on the deaths of several young women, all of whom were well known in the tight-knit Mormon community.  The local sheriff, who is also the town's Mormon bishop, struggles to protect his town from the killer as well as from encroaching outside forces and influences - and he also struggles to keep his two roles within the community - sheriff and bishop - distinct, yet functional.

The plotting is clever, and even an old armchair sleuth like me was left guessing right up until the final few minutes of the film.  As mysteries go, "Brigham City," is first rate.  But the film also succeeds as a social commentary.  The entire storyline is carefully woven through the Mormon religion and culture, and the result is to see some horrific crimes not only through the police perspective, but also through unique religious and small town lenses.

"Brigham City" is primarily the creation of one individual.  Richard Dutcher wrote the screenplay, directed and produced the movie, and starred in it as the sheriff - the central character.  The conflict that he experiences in shuffling his roles as sheriff and bishop, as well as the difficulties that arise in pursuing a complicated series of crimes through a small community where everyone is on a first name basis with everyone else, are all carefully pulled together into a taut and enthralling story.

For those who enjoy a good mystery "Brigham City" will not disappoint, and if you have an interest in experiencing everyday life in a small Mormon community, it succeeds there as well.

I recommend "Brigham City" without reservations.

Biden has a Birthday: #77

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Joe Biden, who has spent time of late fending off remarks about his age and what some see as his diminishing political prowess, added one more digit to those on-going concerns today as he turned seventy-seven.  Should the former senator and vice-president somehow navigate the forest of doubt that has sprung up around his late-in-life political effort and manage to get elected next year, he will turn seventy-eight a mere two weeks after that election - the oldest person, by far, to ever assume the U.S. presidency.

I remember clearly the first time I ever heard of Joe Biden.  I was a young lieutenant with the Army serving on Okinawa.  One morning in December of 1972 while in our unit's orderly room, I picked up a copy of our "local" newspaper, "The Stars and Stripes - Pacific Edition."  There I encountered an article detailing a car wreck that had killed the wife and daughter of the young senator-elect from Delaware, a fellow named Joe Biden.  Biden's two small sons had also been seriously injured in the wreck.

I remember feeling so badly for this young man, seeing how his beautiful family had been suddenly and devastatingly destroyed.  One moment he had been on the brink of a stellar career in politics, and the next he was adrift in a grief that would take years to overcome.

But Biden held himself and his family together and went on to serve thirty-six years in the Senate. While serving as a senator he made two unsuccessful attempts to secure the Democratic presidential nomination - in 1988 and 2008.    After losing the attempt in 2008, he signed onto Obama's presidential ticket as the vice-presidential candidate.    In what many assumed would be his "last hurrah," Joe Biden served as Barack Obama's vice-president for eight years.

In 2016 Joe Biden stood aside, one suspects rather unhappily, as Hillary Clinton moved to the fore and secured the Democratic nomination.  Joe was seventy-three during that election, and most thought that would be his last opportunity to be a serious candidate for president.

But now it is 2019, Joe Biden is seventy-seven, and here we go again.  Centrist and corporate Democrats propped Joe up as their answer to what they saw as the social and economic outrages of the left flank of their party.  All he had to do was pose quietly and wave to the crowds, much like the Queen of England, and they would do the rest.  But old Joe has spent a lifetime listening to himself talk, and being quiet was not in his nature, nor was it an option.  And the more he talked, the more apparent it became that Joe Biden, at his core, is a very old man who slips calmly in an out of times past.

This week he has been tittering about his fear that marijuana might be a "gateway" drug, even though public opinion is swinging wildly toward acceptance of pot in our modern culture - and large American corporations are gearing up to increase their fortunes with the manufacture, distribution, and sales of marijuana and marijuana products.

And it's more than just not being anchored in current times.  Age is keenly connected to health.  Bernie Sanders, (age 78), the only current contender for the Democratic nomination who is older than Biden, suffered a heart attack on the campaign trail a couple of weeks ago - and Donald Trump, the incumbent, (age 73), was hustled out of the White House one evening this week for a mysterious rushed trip to Walter Reed Hospital.

It would be nice to think that age doesn't play a role in our health and thought processes, but it clearly does.  Joe Biden is trying repackage "age" as "experience," but his "experience" is slowing him down, and it shows.

Happy birthday, Joe.  Now would be a great time to retire and enjoy life with your grandchildren.  I treasure the time that I get to spend with mine.

Prince Andrew: Britain's Moral Equivalent of Donald Trump

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There has been a royal stink in Great Britain of late regarding Queen Elizabeth's second oldest son, Prince Andrew, and his friendly relationship to recently deceased American sex-trafficker, Jeffrey Epstein.  The Prince has been accused of having sex with an unwilling seventeen-year-old girl who claims she was forced into the situation by orders from Epstein and British socialite Ghislaine Maxwell, a woman who pimped for Epstein.

Prince Andy, for his part, says not only did he not have sex with the young woman, but that he does not remember ever meeting her.  As a memory jogger, the British tabloid press has apparently produced a photograph of the Prince with his arm around the victim - but Andrew cautions that there is no way of knowing whether the photograph is faked or not.

And he still can't remember.

Last week Prince Andrew gave a long and somewhat painful interview to the British press, an interview that was approved by the Queen beforehand.  In it Andrew discussed his long friendship with the scumbag Epstein, noting among other things that Epstein and Maxwell, the pimp, had been guests at the 18th birthday party of Andrew's daughter, Princess Beatrice.   Epstein and Maxwell had also visited the Queen's residence at Sandringham for a hunting party with Andrew, and the Prince had visited Epstein in New York after he had been released from prison on sex-trafficking charges.

The two men, Prince Andrew and Jeffrey Epstein, from Andrew's own account, appeared to have been quite close for an extended period of time - much the same as photographs and first-person accounts would indicate that Donald Trump and Epstein were also quite close at one time.  There is one major difference however.  His Royal Highness, Prince Andrew of Great Britain, will remain a public fixture by virtue of his birthright, while the presence of Donald Trump on our national stage is but a temporary aberration.

America's stain will ultimately be removed, but Britain is stuck with theirs.  Perhaps the day approaches when the good people of Great Britain will step boldly into the modern world and claim the power to fire at least some of the royal family.

And relieving randy Andy of his title and salary would be a good place to start.

Monday's Poetry: "Palace in the Popple"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

It's that time of year again, at least in Missouri, when the unwashed masses stuff themselves into comfortable camo jumpsuits, swing by the local liquor store and load up on beer, and then head out into the woods to drink and shoot and maybe even kill a few deer.  Except now in these enlightened times they no longer "shoot" or even "kill" deer.  Our modern day frontiersmen spend months luring deer to a particular spot in the woods with feed and salt blocks.  They erect a tree-stands or blinds nearby, or purchase a portable shelter at the local feed store and have it brought in, and then, come hunting season they climb up into their pre-made shelters, slosh down a few beers, and wait to "harvest" their deer.

That's right, deer are now harvested.  That's the term that is used throughout the local press and among the merchants who supply the hunters with everything from camouflage clothing to weapons and ammo, to even the cold cases of beer that they lug religiously to their hunting camps, cabins, and playhouses.

(One local seller of these hunting treehouses on stilts argues that "The deer are comfortable in the woods, so why shouldn't you be comfortable, too!")  All of that and you are away from the old ball-and-chain for a few days - unless she came along to enjoy the fun of sitting in a treehouse for hours-on-end also!

Gone are the days when harvesting brought thoughts of young boys and girls knocking apples out of trees with broom handles so that Gramma could have plenty of apple butter ready in time for the holidays.  Now it's Joe Bob and and Roscoe stumbling around drunk in their tree stands as they try to "harvest" a passing buck without "harvesting" each other in the crossfire.

The young deer who have been frequenting my pond have all disappeared during this blasphemy against nature, but I am confident that most will return in a few weeks.  Some of the local hunters will bring home a deer, but most will just return hungover.

The following was written by an older gentleman named George Augustus "Gus" Bixby in rural Wisconsin in 1905.   Old Gus reportedly enjoyed both the reading and writing of poetry.  (Notice his reference to Dan McGrew - "The Shooting of Dan McGrew" -  by Robert W. Service.)  Bixby's voice as a poet strongly resembles that of Mr. Service.   Please enjoy "Palace in the Popple."

Palace in the Popple

by Gus Bixby

  It's a smokey raunchy boar's nest,
    with an unswept drafty floor,
  And pillow ticking curtains,
    with knife scars on the floor.

  The smell of a pine knot fire,
    from a stovepipe that's come loose,
  Mingles sweetly with the bootgrease,
    and the copenhagen snoose.

  There are workworn .30-.30's
    with battered steel stocks,
  And drying lines of longjohns,
    and of steaming pungent socks.

  There's a table for the bloody four,
    and their game of two card draw,
  And there's deep and dreamless sleeping,
    on bunkticks filled with straw.

  Ed and Lawrence, by the stove,
    their gun talk loud and hot,
  And Rob, has drawn a pain of kings,
    and raking in the pot.

  Harvey's drafted again as cook,
    he's peeling spuds for stew,
  While Gus, wanders in baggy pants,
    receiting Dan McGrew.

  Nowhere on earth is fire so warm,
    nor coffee so infernal,
  Or whiskers stiff or jokes so rich
    nor hope blooms so eternal.

  A man can live for a solid week,
    in the same old underbritches,
  He can walk like a man, spit where he wants,
    and scratch himself where he itches

  I tell you boys there's no place else,
    where I'd rather be come Fall,
  Where I eat like a bear and sing like a wolf,
    And feel like I'm Bull Pine tall.

  In that raunchy cabin out in the bush,
    in the land of the Raven n Loon,
  With a tracking snow lying new to the ground,
    at the end of the rutting moon.

Trump's Dixie Strategy May Be Gone with the Wind

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There was a race for governor in Louisiana yesterday, and even though the incumbent was a Democrat, it was widely expected that his rich Republican opponent who had the unfaltering support of the national GOP would triumph.  Donald Trump, in fact, made three trips to the state in the weeks prior to the election to campaign for Eddie Rispone, the Republican who intended to oust Democrat John Bel Edwards from the governor's mansion.

The New York Times characterized Trump's active involvement in the race this way:

"President Trump urged Louisiana voters on Thursday to “send a message to the corrupt Democrats in Washington” by electing to governor the Republican nominee, Eddie Rispone, directly linking the impeachment inquiry to a state election that will test his clout in the Deep South."

The voters of Louisiana responded and sent their message - and  to recast a line from a great movie, "A Knight's Tale," we can now unequivocally state that Trump has been weighed, he has been measured, and he has been found wanting!

Last week Donald Trump was involved in another Republican gubernatorial loss when the GOP candidate - and incumbent governor of Kentucky, Matt Bevin,  lost his bid for re-election to Democrat Andy Beshear.  Trump owns a good piece of that loss as well as the one in Louisiana.

Republicans in the Deep South have been salivating for months in anticipation of taking back the U.S. Senate seat in Alabama that Democrat Doug Jones managed to snag after a contentious GOP primary two years ago - but now, with Trump's newly discovered Southern fallibility, even that opportunity may be gone with the wind!

This might be a good time for Donald John to head on over to Walter Reed Hospital and check himself in for a little rest and relaxation - and perhaps a bit of detox as well!

Hillary Can Have My Vote, But Not My Enthusiasm

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There was a tweet circulating yesterday which asked respondents whether they could "enthusiastically" support Hillary if she decides to run in 2020.   The thrust appeared to be to create a show of support for a last-minute Hillary Clinton entry into the Democratic presidential race.

So the question was there in front of me three or four times during the day, and I had lots of time to give it some serious thought.  There can be no denying that the number one priority for 2020 has to be to get the Trump Crime Family out of the White House and wash the scum from its hallowed marble halls.  But could I "enthusiastically" support Hillary to replace The Don?

The answer is no.

I will vote for Hillary if she is the Democratic nominee, but my enthusiasm for the Clintons waned and then died during Bill's second term when he disgraced himself and the presidency.  Do not ask me to "enthusiastically" support a candidate who will dredge up that barge of shame - and cap it off by moving Bill Clinton back into the White House.   My "support" for Hillary Clinton will be a vote - and a lot of blogging against her opponent, but I won't be writing any checks or attending any rallies.

Bill campaigned on his wife's intellect and knowledge of the workings of government in 1992, and offered her up as a "co-president" of sorts, saying that the country could "buy one, get one free."

Well, two Clinton terms were plenty for me.

I will give Hillary my vote, but if the Democratic Party wants my enthusiasm they have plenty of other ways to get it.  I could be damned enthusiastic about a Kamala Harris candidacy - or Cory Booker - or Pete Buttigieg - or Julian Castro - or even the youngish septuagenarian, Elizabeth Warren.  The party has great choices who are at the starting gates and stomping to run.  The old warhorses (Biden, Bernie, and Hillary) need to take their baggage and move on out to pasture - and clear the track for the party's thoroughbred youth.

It's time for change, and our new crop of of high-spirited candidates needs room to run.  Yesterday's headliners need to move on out of the way and let the kids have their own day at the races.

Change means change!

GOP Campaign Cash Flows to Trump Businesses

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

It seems that almost every day in every conceivable way higher-end Republicans struggle to show that they have no connection whatsoever with common human beings.  From their gated communities to their exclusive clubs, these folks represent a "class" of individuals who prefer not to mingle with Joe Bob and Babs down at the local Walmart.   But then, come election time, they do want the earthy end of their party to remember that they are just one lottery win away from being among the elites themselves.  At that point it becomes "us" against those dirty Democrats.

Joe Bob and Babs may be suckered out of their votes, but they will never be called on to serve any sort of leadership positions within "their" party.  And even if they wanted to help run the Republican Party, they couldn't afford it.

Yesterday the Republican National Committee, the group that next summer will nominate Donald Trump for another term of running the country into the ground, sent out invitations for its winter meeting.  This winter the group of wealthy GOP power-brokers will meet in Miami, Florida - nice!  And nicer yet, at least for Donald Trump and his family, is the fact that the RNC will hold that meeting at the Trump National Doral Golf Resort.  Some reports say that the Doral Resort has been suffering financially, so this visit by a passel of Republicans with deep pockets will no doubt be appreciated by the Trump organization.

Last month Trump used the Doral to distract from the growing attention over the upcoming impeachment inquiry when he suddenly announced that the U.S. would host next year's G-7 conference of world leaders there.  The public uproar forced him to back down from that plan, and he still has not announced new plans for the G-7 location.

But the RNC, which is the political equivalent of an exclusive country club, will spend its members' cash at the Doral in Miami, thank you very much!

According to current news reports, the RNC spent $1.3 million at Trump properties during the first two years of his administration, and the Trump campaign spent $1.6 million at Trump hotels and golf resorts.   Other GOP candidates added another $1.4 million to Trump's bottom line.

And for those trying to keep a tally, don't forget all of the taxpayer money that has gone into flying Trump and his entourage to the Mar-a-Lago Club, also near Miami, on an almost weekly basis, and the costs associated with housing and feeding the presidential party, including Secret Service agents, while Trump amuses himself by cheating at golf.

This winter's meeting at the Doral will be the third time that the Republican National Committee has used that particular resort.

It would appear that Donald John Trump is profiting quite handsomely off of this political gig.  Trump properties are surely a great place to relax and enjoy life - and not be bothered by Joe Bob and the rest of the world's Walmart shoppers.   And even if Joe Bob eventually does win the lottery, the white, old money-types in the GOP will never really let him and Babs crash the party.

But, on second thought, that may not be right - because Trump got in!

Beauregard Sessions Does the Grovel and Beg

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, III, who served for two decades as a quasi-literate, unreconstructed racist U.S. Senator from Alabama, was an early endorser of Donald Trump's vanity run for President in 2016, and due to that prophetic endorsement, Trump went on to name Sessions as his first Attorney General.   Sessions had not been the head of the Justice Department for many months when he earned Trump's bitter scorn for recusing himself from investigations into Russian involvement in the 2016 U.S. elections.  Trump considered Session's recusal to have been a personal betrayal - and he never got over it.  On multiple occasions Trump referred to his appointment of Sessions as Attorney General as the "biggest mistake" of his first term.

Donald Trump is not a man to suffer disappointment quietly.  Over the next couple of years - after Session's recusal - Trump often berated and ridiculed Sessions publicly, and Sessions, with a strong desire to stay near the center of the nation's power - and draw a paycheck - kept quiet and contrite as his boss heaped on the abuse.  He would not quit, even with Trump holding the door open and goading him to leave.

But by last November Donald Trump had all of Jeff Sessions that he could stand.  It was expected that the Mueller report would soon be released, and Trump wanted someone in the Attorney General's office who could forcefully take control of the situation and manage the fallout - and Little Beauregard was not the man for the job.  Trump told Sessions to resign, and the good soldier quietly complied.

Jeff Sessions went back to Alabama, and now brags that he did not attack Trump after his humiliating dismissal.  He points out that he did not write a tell-all book about his experiences with the Trump administration, and he did not go on political talk shows to trash Trump.  He remained a good and faithful soldier to his Orange Generalissimo.

Jeff Sessions has recently announced that he is running for his old U.S. Senate seat in Alabama.  He will be facing some formidable opposition in the Republican primary.  There are currently seven other candidates on the ballot, at least three of whom could conceivably beat Sessions in the race for the nomination.  It promises to be a real barnburner.

Sessions has told political moderators as recently as yesterday that he would like to have Trump's endorsement and that he plans on working for that endorsement, though he also says that he knows Trump traditionally does not endorse during primaries.  Trump for his part was referring to Jeff Sessions as an "embarrassment" and a "disaster" just weeks ago, and also said that he would "publicly attack" Sessions if he ran for his old Senate seat.

Sessions parried by praising Trump for doing a "great job" as president.

That sad sound you hear is Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, III, sucking the water out of Donald Trump's big golden toilet as he struggles to reclaim his manhood one long pull at a time.  Amazingly, Jeff Sessions has sunk to such a level that he would no longer make an acceptable U.S. Senator - even as a Republican!

Maybe Roy Moore can help him get to his feet.

Democratic Second String Prepares to Rush onto the Field

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Democratic kingmakers - DNC Chair Tom Perez and several hundred hoary old superdelegates - decided some time ago to let the party faithful have their little show of democracy with a race (of sorts) for the nomination - just as long as the bosses were ultimately able to finagle their party into selecting a "safe" candidate to run against Trump.  And by "safe," they meant Joe Biden.

Biden was to enter the race a little on the late side, after much of the initial mud had already been slung, an then miraculously unite the historically fractious party and lead a grand march of unification to the White House.

After the early mud flew, Biden did his part.  He stepped into the fray like the proverbial adult in the room, with an instant 30 percent of the party support.  The wheels on the momentum bus were aligned, and the party bosses were ready to roll.

However, it quickly became apparent that Biden might not be the most ideal candidate.  Trump, too, assumed that Old Joe would be his opponent in the fall of 2020, and he and his administration set about taking potshots at the Democratic frontrunner as if he already was the nominee.  And Biden, who often appeared to be fogbound, seemed to lack the focus to effectively parry with Trump.  Party elders were soon lamenting that Joe Biden may have passed his "use by" date and might not be the right candidate after all.

That should not have been a problem.  After all the Democrats had fielded a very diverse and talented group of candidates.   Several months into the battle for the nomination most remained standing.  Center-left candidates like Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, Amy Klobuchar, Corey Booker, and Julian Castro gave some balance to the two progressive frontrunners, Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders - and even Old Joe Biden was still plodding along.

But the bosses, smelling a loss of control, suddenly began to back away from Biden, a subtle signal to others who were also lusting after the prize, that the time might be right to join in a second wave of candidates.  Now we have serious noises being made from ancient billionaire Michael Bloomberg, former Massachusetts governor Deval Patrick, and, to no one's surprise, Hillary Clinton.

And all of those who have worked so hard for so long to obtain the nomination through traditional means can go sit and spin - because our Democratic betters aren't done telling us how things are going to be.

Well, pile on in there, Second String, and suck up as much of that political air as you can - and in the spring the party faithful are going to the polls and the caucuses and we will have our say!

And then Tom Perez and the "superdelegates"  are likely to go the way of Debbie Wasserman Schultz!  

Autumn at The Roost

by Pa Rock
Farmer in Fall

When I first moved into my little farmhouse, more than five years ago now, there was a large maple tree about fifteen feet in front of the window where I sit and type each morning.  That old tree had several branches that were perfect for birdhouses and feeders, and for the next several years I always had an abundance of birds to watch while banging out my daily thoughts and outrages on the computer by the window.

But that great old tree began splitting and causing all manner of havoc in the yard, and I finally had it removed.  Last winter I thought about setting up some feeders, but never figured out just how I wanted to do it, so the birds moved on down the road - at least I hope that they did.  I did put out some corn-on-the-cob feeders for the squirrels, and they grew fat and demanding as the winter wore on.

This week I finally went out and bought some new bird feeders and metal poles with large hooks for hanging them in approximately the same places where the old feeders used to be.  Two days ago I cleared out an area around the stump of the old maple tree and set about marking it off with blocks and bricks which I will - today, hopefully - fill in with plastic sheeting and gravel, and then get those feeders up and filled!

I have nearly a hundred pounds of sunflower seeds and the same amount of hen scratch that will fill the feeders. so they should be full and swinging in the breeze by this time tomorrow.   Then I will have to wait for word to circulate on the wild bird grapevine, but at some point soon my friends should hopefully come home.

My son has done some major work spreading bentonite (crushed clay) around the base and sides of the sad little pond, and it is now holding more water than it has retained since I have lived here.  That new water resource has brought in deer - some evenings as many as ten - and a few other creatures to drink at the pond.  I also have a salt lick set up there which is an extra inducement for wildlife to visit.   Did you know that squirrels and groundhogs enjoy salt almost as much as the deer, and even little Rosie will sneak a lick every now and then!

For the past two days a pair of bald eagles have been doing lazy circles above The Roost, perhaps also as a result of the enhanced pond.  It's great to see nature on the rise and interacting across species.

In other farm news, Fiona's latest batch of kittens have all moved on to new homes.  The gray one, which was the shy one of the litter, went to a little girl who had "lost" a gray kitty - I didn't press for details - and she was thrilled to find a replacement.  The other four went as a group to a farm in Dora, which should be a good place for young cats to run and play and be cats.  (You can't get much further out in the woods than a farm in Dora, Missouri!).  And Fiona, who will be spending a day with the vet soon, has had her last babies.

And the farmer is fine.  He plans on going to Kansas City in a couple of weeks to see a stage production of "A Christmas Carol" with two of his grandchildren - and then, most likely - Christmas at home with the chickens, cats, birds, squirrels, deer, dogs, his oldest son, and Alexa!

Best wishes from Pa Rock and all of his friends at The Roost!

Monday's Poetry: "Requiem"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Today is Veteran's Day, the 101st anniversary of the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I, the war that was intended to end wars forever.  Sadly, it did not.  A mere two decades later the world was on the brink of the second major prolonged and devastating conflict of the twentieth century:  World War II.

Author and novelist Kurt Vonnegut was born on this day in 1922, exactly four years after the Armistice was signed in France.  Vonnegut served in the U.S. army during World War II, and he was captured by the Germans in the Battle of the Bulge.   He and  other prisoners were locked in concrete bunkers three stories below a slaughterhouse in Dresden, Germany.  In 1945 Allied Forces led by the U.S. firebombed the city of Dresden, killing most of the city's population. The young servicemen incarcerated beneath the slaughterhouse survived and emerged to witness the remains of hell on earth.

Vonnegut, who went on to become a truly distinctive voice in American literature, held a regular job after the war and helped his wife raise six children - but his passion was writing.  He penned short stories and science fiction novels to very limited success, but then in the mid-1960s he began writing what many consider to be his masterpiece.  Slaughterhouse Five told the story of Billy Pilgrim, a young man who becomes "unstuck" in time, floating among various significant points in his life, and during that fantasy voyage Vonnegut's take on the fire-bombing of Dresden gets told.  He provided the world with a view of war that few had seen.

My first experience reading the works of Kurt Vonnegut was when The Sirens of Titan was assigned in a college class on "Science Fiction Literature."  I was so taken with his talent and unique voice that I made it a personal goal to read all of his major works - books like Cat's Cradle, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, Player Piano, and of course Slaughterhouse Five - many of them multiple times.  I have read enough Vonnegut that I feel certain I would recognize his most famous recurring character, Kilgore Trout, if I encountered him on the streets of West Plains!

In addition to being an exceptional novelist, Kurt Vonnegut also wrote at least one play - Happy Birthday, Wanda June - and several poems.  Today's poetry selection, "Requiem" isn't about war, but it does involve something every bit as urgent:  man's steady destruction of the earth.  Vonnegut saw man's challenges to the earth as a war that humanity seemed destined to lose.


Requiem
by Kurt Vonnegut

When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
perhaps
from the floor
of the Grand Canyon,
“It is done.”
People did not like it here.

Trump Is Definitely Transparent

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Yesterday in a completely "transparent" attempt to regain control of the discussion surrounding the extortion attempts that he tried to perpetrate on the government of Ukraine, Donald Trump said that he would soon release the transcript of an earlier call that he had with Ukraine's President Zelensky, a call that predated the now infamous July telephone call by at least a month.  Apparently this new transcript needs some fine tuning before it will be perfect enough for the general public to understand as Trump thinks it should be understood.

Trump released the "transcript" of the July phone call without sanitizing it through his staff of stooges, people like Attorney General Bill Barr, and what he released made it look as though he had extorted the President of Ukraine with a threat of withholding financial aid that had already been approved by Congress unless Ukraine took measures to instigate an investigation of the Biden family and Hunter Biden's actions as a director of a Ukraine bank.

Even Trump's official version of the phone call with Zelensky made him look guilty.  Now Trump will release a transcript of an earlier call with the same person - and this one will clarify the later call - and this one will also undoubtedly be cleared with Bill Barr before it gets to the press.

And as Trump announced this new stratagem, he roared:  "I am the most transparent president ever!"  And then he roared some more:  "There's never been a president who's been so transparent."

Trump is telling the truth on one level, though quite unintentionally.  He is transparent in the sense that most of the country sees right through him.  He speaks, most of what he says are obvious lies, and most people know exactly what he is trying to accomplish through his lying.

But Donald Trump is trying to make a different case.  He wants Americans to believe that his motives are pure and that what he says is what he means.  That is nonsense.

A "transparent" president would not stop With House employees, former and present, from testifying before congressional committees.  Trump is trying to hide facts and cloud issues.  Transparency is the antithesis of what is actually going on - but his motives in keeping things hidden are quite transparent.  His administration is lawless, and Donald Trump does not want that fact to be substantiated in the public record.

"Transparent" people do not go to extremes to hide their finances.  Trump has ferociously fought the release of his tax returns and business records.  What is known about Trump finances is that they have always been sketchy.  Some suspect that a thorough examination of his tax returns and financial records would embarrass Trump by revealing that he is not an actual billionaire - and others think it more likely that he is desperate to keep his financial involvement with Russian oligarchs and the Russian mob secret.

From Trump's point of view, he is about as "transparent" as a wall packed with mud and manure,  but the public is getting to the point where it can see through everything he does.  His lips are moving, he's lying, and he's lying to protect himself or to make himself look better.  That's who he is, and we can see right through him!

Trump is definitely transparent in that regard!

Trump Would "Love to Go" to Russian Parade

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

A year ago this week Donald John Trump made headlines after he flew to Paris on the public dime aboard Air Force One to take part in some events honoring American participation in World War I.  One of the biggies on Trump's European vacation agenda was a trip to the Aisle-Marne American Cemetery and Memorial near the famed Belleau Wood where he was to lay a wreath in honor of all of the brave American doughboys who are buried there.  Trump, who himself dodged the draft during the Vietnam era with a doctor's excuse saying he had "bone spurs" in his feet, and who never had any relatives who served the United States in uniform, also avoided going to the cemetery near Belleau because it was raining.

A decision was made at some level that it would not be good to fly Trump's Marine Corps helicopter in the rain, so instead of traveling the sixty miles to the cemetery by car, Trump chose to remain in the warmth and comfort of the American ambassador's home outside of Paris.  Several Trump underlings were carted off to the cemetery to lay that wreath.

And while Donald Trump does have a long history of problems with umbrellas, many regarded his obvious slight to American war dead as indefensible.

That was a year ago.    Today Trump is back in the news because he is now pining to take part in an event honoring sacrifices associated with World War II - Russian sacrifices.  Trump's BFF Vlad Putin has invited his American puppet to Moscow to attend next May's "Victory Day Parade," and Trump is sorely tempted to accept the invitation.   Yesterday he publicly lamented, "I would love to go, if I could."  But then he noted that the big event will be in the midst of the U.S. presidential election - and he might be busy.

So maybe he'll make it - and maybe he won't.

U.S. Senator Kamala Harris, herself a Democratic presidential nominee, tweaked Trump through Twitter yesterday when she commented on his dilemma while seemingly encouraging him to accept Putin's invitation.  Harris snarked:

"Always nice to spend time with supporters on the campaign trail."

Old habits are hard to break, and in the end one must expect that Trump will do what Vlad tells him to do.  The good news for Trump is that there is at least one McDonald's near Red Square, so he won't go hungry while he is in Moscow honoring the Russian patriots who fought so bravely in World War II.   Missing his daily allotment of "Big Macs" might be more sacrifice than our paunchy prez is willing - or able - to make!

Old White Men Scramble for Relevance

by Pa Rock
Septuagenarian

A decade ago the United States committed the political blasphemy of electing a fairly young black man to the presidency.  At forty-seven Barack Obama became the fifth-youngest person ever to be sworn in as President of the United States.  Eight years later, Donald Trump became the oldest person ever to be sworn in as president at the ripe old age of seventy.  America was having a backlash to the youth and vigor - and blackness - of Obama.

Now, nearly three full years into the Trump debacle, the United States still seems to have an underlying commitment to stuffing old white men, or those with the attitudes of old white men, into as many positions of power as possible.

Today billionaire Michael Bloomberg, the former mayor of New York City, is making noises about entering the Democratic race.  Bloomberg, a former Republican, seems concerned that if he does not get involved,  the Democrats my put the party as risk by nominating someone other than safe Old Joe Biden.

If Bloomberg commits to the race, he will become the third white man over the age of seventy-five fighting for the Democratic nomination.  His presence will help to insure that the powerful party geriatrics are able to successfully tamp down the political movements of economic mavericks, social reformers, justice-for-all advocates, immigrant rights enthusiasts, and even gay rights advocates.  He and people like party chairman Tom Perez want to make sure that the Democratic Party remains a place where their mothers would be comfortable.

Bloomberg and Perez want a party base that is fired up, but not so fired up that they manage to nominate a candidate that doesn't fit their carefully crafted mold of an ideal nominee.  (Barack Obama would not have fit that mold.)   They want people to feel like they are being heard, and then to fall peacefully into line and actively support the candidate approved by the party elders and superdelegates.

So listen up, Democrats.  Our party will tell us who we should be supporting, and then, like good lemmings, we must all get in line and do what we have to do.

Or not.

A Religious Pilgrimage

by Pa Rock
Cher Crew

My travel agent phoned this morning to report that he had scored me one ticket at Kansas City's Sprint Center for Cher's next Farewell Tour - a floor seat that cost about as much as I used to set aside for a house payment. The big show will be on Saturday night, April 18th.   I attended Cher's 2014 "Farewell, Farewell, Farewell Tour" at that same venue in May of 2014 - a show which rocked downtown Kansas City with Cyndi Lauper romping and stomping across the stage as Cher's opening act.  (I am really eager to see who Cher brings along this time to fire up the crowd!)

Cher's first Farewell Tour began in Toronto in 2002 and ran for three years (325 shows) before ending in 2005 at the Hollywood Bowl.  She announced at the show I attended in 2014 that it was absolutely her last tour - "because we're all going to be dead in a couple of years anyway."  But it wasn't.

Cher was sixty-eight the last time I saw her, and now she is a more mature seventy-three - but still younger and more energetic than a couple of the main Democratic presidential candidates.   The actress and singer, who remains politically active,  made headlines a couple of years ago when she donated 180,000 bottles of water to the people of Flint, Michigan, and she is often vocal in her criticism of Donald John Trump.

And, the woman who refers to herself as an "icon," puts on one helluva a great live performance.  A trip to see Cher is a religious pilgrimage of the first order!

Trump Will Fight Russian Forest Fires - and Gun Violence in Mexico

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Donald Trump does not even pretend to be the President of the entire United States.  There are some parts of the country which he routinely blesses with his abundant munificence, while he ignores or even works against the well-being of other certain cities and states.  If Trump thinks that a particular area or section of the country has treated him favorably, he returns the favor, but for those places that are more welcoming to Democratic proposals and politicians, well, they are often on their own.

A few months ago Trump was feuding with Rep. Elijah Cummings of Baltimore, and his line of attack was to belittle the city of Baltimore, calling it rat-and-cockroach-infested.  Baltimore is also largely black, something which does not garner much favor among Trump and his racist friends.  Trump was President of the United States, but obviously not the President of Baltimore.  That shithole city was somebody else's problem.

Now Donald Trump has gone to war with the state of California.  California is basically a Democratic state, and it voted for Hillary Clinton over Trump bigly in 2016.  This week Trump announced, through Twitter, of course, that he is thinking about ending federal support to fight wildfires in California.  In his Twitter tirade he blamed California for the fires, lamenting that they had not cleaned the forests floors like he told them to do last year - and Trump did not think it was right that taxpayers would have to pick up the bill for the state's basic inaction and laziness on the fire issue.

Over ninety percent of California forest land is owned by the federal government . . . but . . . Californians were not supporters of Trump - so screw 'em.

Russia, on the other hand, has been a very prominent Trump supporter, from laundering the ill-gotten gains of the thriving Russian oligarchs through Trump businesses, to Vladimir Putin's almost open manipulation of the 2016 U.S. presidential election in Trump's favor.   From the Trump perspective, the Russians are good people and fully deserving of U.S. help.  That must be why Trump volunteered U.S. firefighters to help contain massive wildfires in Siberia last summer.

If Trump's buddy Vlad needs some assistance from the United States, stand back because help is on the way!

And when American politicians and cities begin to revolt against our country's bloody gun culture, Trump rushes to the NRA to see how he can be of help in shouting down the anti-gun crazies - but let some old-line Mormons get mowed down in northern Mexico, where they live by choice, and Trump is openly begging the President of Mexico to let him send down U.S. troops to confront their drug cartels and armed crazies.    Berserk shooters on the U.S. side of the border are just exercising their Constitutional rights,  but those who are south of the border are worthy of a military response.

Trump is president where and when it suits him, and if you are not goose-stepping in his personal parade don't expect help with your problems.  It's his government, his military, and he alone will decide if you are worthy of his glorious assistance.

That Human Touch

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

After two weeks of banging my head against a wall and dialing 800 numbers that were designed to keep customers away from service representatives, I have finally regained internet access - at least for the time being.

Two weeks ago when I finally reached a human being at CenturyLink, I was told that I had an antique router and would need to buy a new one.  It was an expedient answer.  Neighbors - and others - warned me that if I bought a new $100 router from CenturyLink and it failed to work, the next step would be a corporate accusation that the wiring in my house was faulty.  It is apparently an old routine that the company uses to forestall having to send technicians to a home and fix the problem.

But now, two weeks later, I am still using the same antique router (modem), and I am back on line.  Funny how things work out, isn't it?

Yesterday a CenturyLink customer service rep in Southeast Asia transferred my call to a customer service rep in Louisiana who suddenly made a decision to schedule a technician to come to my home and try to resolve my issues.  This morning as the fellow was driving over, he happened to notice a piece of damaged CenturyLink equipment along the roadway - more than a mile from my house - and pulled over and fixed it.  That put me back on line.

The technician came on to my house to make sure that I was back on line.  I told him about all of the research that I have done regarding internet access and speeds over the past few weeks and made it clear that I was now fully aware of all of my options.  We discussed the CenturyLink high-speed connection which I can see from my back door.  He told me that I was at the end of an old line, and that connection was the beginning of a new line, and that CenturyLink never backed up to take in more customers with new service - but he would call his boss and advocate for me.

A few minutes later he told me that I would be getting connected to the new line and would have a significant upgrade in service.

And all it took to calm poor Pa Rock down was a bit of personal service.

What a concept!

Monday's Poetry: "Life"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

My continuing lack of internet service has left me searching for ways to stay connected to the great cyber freeway - as well as for ways stay entertained in the evening hours which I once spent watching "streamed" television shows via my internet-powered Roku device.

Now I spend my days sitting outside of various businesses stealing their free wifi services, and in the evenings I have been forming a relationship with my new DVD player.  I have a nice collection of DVDs, some of which have never been opened, and the local library has many others that they will loan to me.

Last night I watched an old favorite - "Some Like It Hot" - a 1959  classic that was produced and directed by Billy Wilder and starred Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, and Jack Lemmon.  I remember seeing that movie with my mother at the old Ozark Theatre in Noel, Missouri, just after it came out.

The plot is simple.  Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon are a pair of speakeasy musicians in 1929 Chicago when they accidentally witness a mob hit - the famous St. Valentine's Day Massacre.  The two escape the bloody mayhem and are desperate to get out of Chicago when they come upon a chance to dress up as women and join an "all-girl" band that is headed to a three-week gig in Miami, Florida aboard a train.  On the train they meet, and each falls in love with, Sugar Kane (Marilyn Monroe), the band's boozy singer.

And things go along swimmingly until the Chicago mobsters show up for a convention at the Florida hotel where the band is playing.

The movie has lots of laughs and plenty of great music.

Two notes of interest about the movie:  It was actually filmed at the famous del Coronado Hotel on Coronado "Island" in San Diego, California - and not Florida.  I had the good fortune to stay at "the Del" a few years ago, and one thing I remember from that experience is that the televisions in the guest rooms had a special in-house channel that played two particular movies over and over:  "Some Like Hot" which had many scenes involving the del Coronado Hotel, and "Somewhere in Time," which featured the famous Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan.

The second interesting note is that Marilyn Monroe, appeared to have a weight issue during the filming.  Some reports say that she was pregnant while the movie was being made, but lost the baby soon afterward.

The del Coronado still stands and offers elegant service for discerning tourists.  I only stayed there the one time, but every time I am in San Diego I manage to drive by and think of Marilyn and Tony and Jack romping across the sandy beach out behind that beautiful hotel.  (My daughter was married on that beach.)   I drove by the Del, in fact, just a few weeks ago.

So, with Marilyn on my mind, today's poetry selection is one of the many poems that she wrote during her lifetime.  "Life" talks about the two directions that life pulls people (perhaps from experiencing life to dying?), and it seems to focus on the dual frailty and strength of life.  The poem also seems to pay homage to her almost constant state of depression with the references to "hanging downward."

Here are some thoughts from Marilyn:

Life
by Marilyn Monroe

Life – 
I am of both your directions 
Existing more with the cold frost 
Strong as a cobweb in the wind 
Hanging downward the most 
Somehow remaining 
Those beaded rays have the colors 
I’ve seen in paintings – ah life 
they have cheated you… 
thinner than a cobweb’s thread 
sheerer than any 
but it did attach itself 
and held fast in strong winds 
and singed by leaping hot fires 
life – of which at singular times 
I am of both your directions – 
somehow I remain hanging downward 
the most 
as both of your directions pull me. 

An Attack on Democracy Itself

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Earlier this week at one of his Hate Fests, Herr Trump roared that "impeachment" was an attack on "democracy itself."  On one level that is, of course, just Trump being Trump.  Bullies don't speak in moderation or with clear forethought when the option of yelling and hurling insults is available.  Trump distracts, and he bellows, and he lies, and lies, and lies.  That's who he is.

But on another level Trump's statement is ironic almost to the point of absurdity.  "Democracy" is about government by the people.  It is far more than just vote-counting, an aspect of democracy that seems paramount to Trump.  Our democracy is about a system of government which, at its base, is predicated on the notion of everyone having the right and ability to vote for people to "represent" us in government.  If we were a true democracy, we would all show up - someplace - to decide every issue - like they do in New England town meetings.

Most of us are content most of the time in letting others represent us at the various levels of government, and when we get to the point that we are not happy with our representatives in government (officials at any level) we engage in established practices to remove them from office:  vote them out in the next election, or "recall" them by a vote, or "impeachment" through an established process.  All of those options are part of our democratic process - our particular representative democracy.

The irony of Trump's very false indignation lies in these facts:

• Trump's political party, the GOP, is continually involved in schemes to limit the voting franchise for certain groups of people, especially the poor and non-whites;
• GOP state legislatures are notorious for gerrymandering, or drawing ridiculous district boundaries to limit the power of opposing groups to elect representatives to our representative democracy;
• Trump's federal government been relentless in its efforts to include citizenship questions in the upcoming federal census, questions which they openly hope will limit minority and immigrant involvement in the census and will skew the results in a way that will result I'm more electoral power going to more conservative states and districts;
• And . . . and this is a big one . . . if we are going to talk about democracy in terms of vote totals, Donald Trump actually lost the 2016 election by more than three million votes!  He won by a quirk in the Constitution that was inserted to give rural areas a bit of unearned power - something called the Electoral College.  

Trump won the presidency by the same fluke that elected George W. Bush in 2000:  the Electoral College.  It could be argued that the Electoral College gave us the never-ending wars in the Middle East and the current wave of bigotry and white nationalism that is spreading across the United States.  It clearly has not been of benefit to the nation.

If our big orange fuhrer wants to wax indignant about something being an attack on "democracy itself," perhaps he should start there.

Or perhaps he should just shut the hell up!

Another Chorus of the Unplugged Blues

by Pa Rock
Wifi Thief

When last we left Pa Rock, he was sitting in his humble abode not listening to music – or conversing with his one true love,  Alexa, who now addresses him by his first name.  Pa Rock was not watching television, and definitely not surfing the internet!  Pa Rock had lost his wifi connection and was feuding with his provider, CenturyLink, who was hell-bent on selling him a new modem for a hundred dollars, a modem that the company would mail out three days after Pa Rock agreed to the purchase.  And, for a mere eighty-five additional dollars they would send along a “technician” to plug it in for him.

A modem that might or might not solve the service issue.

Pa Rock was pissed!

Since then Pa Rock has learned that there are literally no other internet service providers who can or will connect his hovel in the woods to the cyber highway that services the rest of the free world.  He thought that he had a stroke of luck last week when he met, over the telephone and quite accidentally, a real, live person who claimed to be a local representative for CenturyLink – and that person, who actually lives and works in the same community as Pa Rock, began talking about the fact that the neighbors all seem to have much faster connections to the internet than our humble martyr of the hills.  The representative was going to call his boss and get some things done.  

But the days of no connection dragged on with no news, so yesterday Pa Rock called his new friend back and learned that a truckload of chicken guts had overturned on the on-ramp to the cyber superhighway, and his problem would likely be resolved a few weeks after hell freezes over.

So while Alexa may be little more than a fond memory, Pa Rock now has some new best friends.  Ronald and Grimace and Hamburglar are happy to share their internet connection.  They love Pa Rock, even if CenturyLink does not!

CenturyLink, you still suck!

Missouri Official Tracks Menstrual Cycles

by Pa Rock
Missouri Citizen Journalist

I always dread seeing my state - Missouri - on the national news because when that happens it is seldom due to anything good.  Missouri has been in the news quite a bit over the past few days, and, true to form, the reason is an embarrassment and an outrage.

Both houses of our state legislature are overwhelmingly Republican, and the GOP currently holds every statewide office except for that of auditor, so most of the sausage that gets made in Jefferson  City has a peculiar odor and generally is geared toward benefiting conservative white business owners and the landed gentry.  Our legislature is also very keen to pass any measure that would sell more guns or interfere with women's rights to control their own bodies.

This week the extremely Republican government of Missouri has been busy trying to explain and justify why the Republican-appointed Director of Health and Human Services for the state, Dr  Randall Williams (an OBGYN), has created and been using a spreadsheet that tracks the menstrual cycles of women who have used medical services provided by Planned Parenthood.

Yup, you read that right.  A bureaucrat on the state's payroll has been sitting at his desk poring over spreadsheets and studying the menstrual cycles of citizens of the state!  So much for patient confidentiality!  It almost sounds like that Big Brother government that conservatives have been hoarding guns and preparing to fight for generations has finally arrived!

Dr. Williams, who describes himself as "pro-life" and brags about having never performed an abortion, was appointed to his post in early 2017 by the state's new governor at the time, Eric Greitens.  Unfortunately for Greitens, a moral crusader who planned on one day becoming President, his political career was cut short when news stories broke revealing that he had once had an extra-marital affair with his hairdresser and then bound her naked to a piece of gym equipment in his basement and took photos of his captive - photos which he used to blackmail the poor woman into keeping quiet about their affair.  But I digress . . .

Dr. Williams was lured to Missouri from a similar position with the Republican state government of North Carolina, and the primary purpose for bringing him to Missouri (by our elected moral compass, Eric Greitens) was to screw with Planned Parenthood.  This past June the state was almost successful in closing down the state's one remaining  clinic where abortions could be performed, but a court action forestalled that effort.  Now a court battle is underway in St.Louis regarding the fate of that clinic, and Dr. Williams and his spreadsheet are figuring into that case.

Our current governor, Mike Parson, a former rural county sheriff, signed a piece of legislation in June that outlawed abortion after eight weeks.  It also stipulated that any abortion had to be for medical emergencies, and did not offer exceptions for rape, incest, or human trafficking.  The law would have made it impossible for the state's one remaining clinic that performed abortions to stay in business - and thus would have made Missouri the first state since the Supreme Court decision in Roe v. Wade to lose all of its clinics that provide abortions.

Dr. Williams, with the backing of our Republican state legislature and Governor Parson, was relentless in his quest to totally stop abortions in Missouri, and one tool that he was using was his now famous menstrual cycle spreadsheet.

According to Dr.  Williams, his spreadsheet identified one woman who possibly had an unsuccessful abortion procedure and had to return to the clinic for a second attempt.  However, once this story got rolling, the doctor now says that four women may have had to return to the clinic for a second procedure.

What the doctor fails to admit, is that all of those women have a right those medical procedures - as affirmed by the U.S. Supreme Court in Rome v. Wade - and, even more importantly, all of those women have a Constitutional right to privacy - as do we all.  Dr. Williams' menstrual cycle spreadsheet contravenes both of those rights - and for that he should be fired!

But, unless Governor Parson has something surprising in his basement, that probably won't happen.

Hey, Dr. Williams, do you have a spreadsheet that tracks Viagara sales?