How to Run an Airline

 

by Pa Rock

Victimized Flier

The Biden administration has been yammering on in recent months about eliminating "hidden costs" and "hidden fees," charges which are added by the seller at the end of a transaction and which result in the cost of the purchase being higher than the buyer had anticipated.   The President says that eliminating hidden charges and fees will empower the middle class and allow them to keep more of the money they earn.  (People seldom talk about empowering the poor because many politicians loudly equate poverty with laziness - and the key to ending poverty doesn't rest with the government, it ends when the lazy take second and third jobs and rise to a level where they can house and feed themselves and their families.)

But poverty is a whole different blog posting.  Today we are talking about hidden charges and fees.

Although I have not heard Joe Biden speak on America's airlines in the context of hidden charges and fees, they are prime abusers of the bait-and-switch swindle.   In the internet age experienced travel agents seem to have gone by the wayside and most travelers now shop for and purchase their own airline tickets on-line.  Sometimes there is so much fine print that having a law degree should almost be a prerequisite for shopping for airline tickets.  One thing is certain, the actual price is never the advertised price because with airlines almost every amenity comes with an additional cost.

My sister and I took a trip to the West Coast this past summer.  We traveled on bargain tickets and it wasn't until we were at the airport checking in that we learned there was fine print on that purchase which prevented us from bringing carry-on bags.  We each had packed one small suitcase that would fit in an overhead bin, but we had to check them for a pricey $35 dollars each below deck.  If we had known about the hidden fee, we could have at least packed in regular-sized suitcases.

Luggage fees are just one airline add-on to the basic cost of a ticket.   There are also fees if a traveler has to change or cancel a flight, if a bag is overweight, for entertainment such as in-flight movies - or even just throw-away earphone fees, charges for extras like pillows and blankets, food-and-drink fees, pet fees, and lately even fees for seat selection.  Oh, you would like a seat on the aisle?  We can do that - for a fee!

As soon as airlines identify something that passengers prefer or that makes them more comfortable, a fee seems to pop-up - as with aisle seating.

Here is my modest proposal:  The government should, through federal law, establish a standard for an airline basic ticket and all US carriers should have to adhere to that standard.  As an example:  Any flight that crosses a state line should have a set, advertised price that includes:  one checked bag, one carry-on bag, and a first-come, first-served choice of seats in the economy section of the plane.  Each individual airline could set its own price for that basic ticket.

Then, if I wanted to fly from Chicago to San Francisco, I could peruse the internet and see which airline offered the best deal on a basic ticket - and know that whichever one I chose would give me one checked bag, one carry-on bag, and my choice of available seats at the time of purchase.  That should cut down on customer and staff hostility, and the airlines could make a profit without feeling the need to nickel-and-dime everyone who wishes to board their flight.  (If airlines wanted to undercut each other on the price of their basic tickets, well, that's just capitalism in action.  The far more likely result would be that they would "fix" their prices to an industry standard - and hopefully at a level which would guarantee them a profit without all of the price subterfuge.)

That's just me talking, though.  The poor struggling airlines all share their wealth with national politicians in order to protect their rackets and keep picking the pockets of the poor, so national legislation to try and impose economic decency on their business practices will remain a pipe dream for now - and until such time as Americans have other travel options.

@Secretary Pete, wake up and smell the future!

The Frost is Almost on the Pumpkin

 

by Pa Rock

Man of Many Seasons

Calendars divide the seasons for us into four very neat quadrants - right down tot he date and hour that the seasons officially change.  Of course, things are never actually that neat in nature.  This year summer hung on well past the the official date of its demise as noted on calendars as September 23rd.   Only within the past two or three days have the cold and dreary rains of autumn set in across southern Missouri, and leaves have begun cascading down from the trees by the bushel.  Physically, the seasons where I live changed from summer to fall over the last weekend.

 A possibility of our first frost of this fall was forecast for last night, and, although the temperature at daylight was a frost-friendly thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit, the frost passed us by - and the potted plants that I sat out last spring and carefully watered during our few dry spells this summer, continue to bloom - but those not-so-delicate flowers are definitely living on borrowed time.   Tuesday is Halloween, and certainly they may zombify by then, or perhaps on Wednesday or Thursday, at the very latest, out of respect for Dia De Los Muertos - the Day of the Dead (celebrated throughout much of the Latin American world - and beyond -  on Wednesday for deceased children and Thursday for adults who have died. )   After more than half-a-year of continual blooming, my flowers have earned the sleep of ages, and what better time to drop their petals than on the Day of the Dead.

It's going to be a busy week.  In addition the Halloween and the Day of the Dead, the World Series is in full swing, and the time will revert back to standard settings on Sunday.  There's going to be so much commotion that many may not notice the first frost at all.

But I will, and I am ready.

When the frost happens, my hanging flower baskets will com down and the bird feeders will go up - and everyone will know that it is really autumn in the Ozarks.

Bring it on!

Democrats Will at Least Have a Choice

 

by Pa Rock

Voter

The Republican field of presidential wannabes is shrinking.    It took former Vice President Mike Pence less than six months to figure out that God already had a horse in the GOP race, and it wasn't Pence.  God's favorite, of course, is Donald Trump, a painfully contrite and devout follower of Jesus who, when he isn't washing the feet of the poor or cleansing people of leprosy with his touch, can often be found autographing Bibles.   Pence may have thought he was the main Christian in the race, but he misunderestimated the Lord's love of Trump!

And while the GOP's field of candidates shrank by one, the Democrats added a candidate to their short list of presidential aspirants.  Dean Phillips, a Democratic member of Congress from Minnesota, became the first current Democratic office holder to formally announce that he is running against incumbent Democratic President Joe Biden.    Biden has said (correctly, I believe) that any Democrat who wants to be President should feel free to join the race.  So Congressman Phillips did - last Friday in New Hampshire.

New Hampshire is important in the race for the nomination in a symbolic sense.  For many years it has held the first presidential primary and received lots of candidate and press attention as well as a nice mid-winter boost to the state's economy.  Last year the Biden campaign got the Democratic National Committee to move New Hampshire out of that first spot and replace it with South Carolina, the state that turned the political tide for Biden in 2020.  Then, knowing that New Hampshire was almost guaranteed to be defiant, they enacted a measure to strip New Hampshire of its delegates to the national convention if they jockeyed their primary back ahead of South Carolina - which New Hampshire promptly did.

Now Biden is keeping his name off of the New Hampshire ballot because of "party rules," rules which he and his team essentially wrote, and the new candidate, Dean Phillips, will have his name on the ballot.  Biden's people have started a write-in campaign which an incumbent should easily win, but, it's a fluid situation and people in New England are known for their independent natures - so who knows what that primary will bring?  One thing it won't bring will be any actual convention delegates for the winner, - whoever he is.

Dean Phillips is a multi-millionaire businessman who made his fortune running the family's distillery business and creating his own company that makes gelato.  (Biden is also a multi-millionaire, though less rich than Phillips.)   Phillips' father was killed while piloting a helicopter in the Vietnam War.  He died when Dean was only six-months-old, and the two never met.  His mother then married Mr. Phillips, the head of a distillery, and he adopted her little boy.  Dean's new grandmother at the time of the adoption was Pauline Phillips, a.k.a. "Dear Abby."

Dean Phillips, who is politically in line with most Biden policies, seems to be focused on the President's age.  Biden is eighty and will be eighty-one in three weeks.  Phillips is fifty-four.  He and others in the party are concerned by polls which show a very tight race between Biden and the presumptive Republican nominee, Donald Trump (current age seventy-seven), with some polls actually showing Trump in the lead.  If  either of the elderly presidential candidates were to suffer a health crisis between now and the general election next November, it could throw the entire race into a cocked hat.

(Eleanor Clift, a national journalist, penned an editorial in yesterday's on-line publication, "The Daily Beast," in which Ms. Clift - who is eighty-three - seemed to be supporting Biden by stating that Phillips has an "ego" issue.  Others could counter that there is a whole lot of ego floating around in the political toilet bowl - and certainly anyone - ANYONE - who is running for President would have more than his or her share.  Thanks anyway, Eleanor.  Your opinion has been duly noted and ignored.)

Phillips announced his candidacy on Friday, and I think it is noteworthy that I have yet to receive an email from his campaign begging for money.   Also, there doesn't seem to be a webpage up for his national campaign.  Often a web presence and a campaign video precede the actual announcement.  The Biden team has $91 million in the bank which is well above Phillips' total net worth.  (So Dean, if you are serious, you are going to have to get "on the beg.")

The Missouri Republican State Legislature, a group that is decidedly anti-democracy, killed the state's presidential primaries this year, but the state's Democratic Party is sponsoring its own on March 23rd.  Pa Rock will be voting, as he always does, and whoever wants my vote is going to have to  1.) ask for it;   2.) show up in the show-me state and campaign;  and,  3.) have a damned compelling platform that puts the needs of people first.

And I, for one, am extremely pleased that there will be an actual choice on that primary ballot.  Democracy is about choices!

A Giant Peach of a Performance!

 

by Pa Rock

Proud Grandpa

(Milestone Alert: Today's blog posting is number 6,000 in what was meant to be only a temporary distraction when this effort began in November of 2007.  My thanks to all who have stopped by, commented, and shared ideas and even writing over the years.  Your involvement and support have kept this daily distraction going!   Pa Rock)

Yesterday evening I had the absolute pleasure of attending a superb musical theatre performance at the Oak Park Mall in Overland Park, Kansas.   The show, James and the Giant Peach, Jr, was a youth production of The Culture House School of Theatre of Olathe, Kansas, and it was under the direction of Chase Cashion.  The play was based on the work of acclaimed author Roald Dahl.

The Culture House, and in particular, Mr. Cashion, did yeoman's work in creating and pulling off this amazing production.   The cast, which included 19 named characters and a very active ensemble of 26 others, were all age twelve or younger, and even just managing that many exuberant young people would be a challenge that few brave souls would tackle - let alone lead them in a difficult and demanding theatrical endeavor.

But the director did it - and the kids did it - and the result was absolutely fantastic!  Young people, individually and in groups, danced across the stage like they had interned with the Rockettes, belted out songs in the manner of Ethel Merman in her heyday, spoke in cockney accents that would have made Eliza Doolittle feel right at home, and performed verbal and physical comedy as though they had grown up in the households of Carol Burnett or Lucille Ball.

There are just not enough superlatives to describe how very good this production of James and the Giant Peach, Jr  was - or is - because there are two more productions scheduled for today.

My granddaughter, Olive, who turned twelve earlier this month, plays one of the main characters, "Spider," and she, too, exhibited a wonderful stage presence as she sang, danced, and delivered her lines flawlessly and with just the right tenor.  (Of course you would expect Grandpa to say something like that, but it's true, dang it, it's true!). Great work, Olive!

I was literally stunned by how good this youth production of James and the Giant Peach, Jr was (is).  I have seen way too many professional musical theatre productions performed by adults which paled by comparison.

Great work, one and all!  

Bravo!

Aldi's is on the Highway to Hell!

 

by Pa Rock

Concerned Consumer

My local Aldi’s, which isn’t that large of a store, recently installed six automated checkouts.    They eat up a lot of floor space, and thus restrict the amount of food and store merchandise which can be displayed on the premises.  And they, of course, lessen the need for salaried, human employees.
 
At first people seemed to be ignoring the new machines, and I thought perhaps American workers might prove victorious in their struggle to remain relevant and to thwart the greed of blood-sucking corporations, but while shopping Wednesday afternoon I noticed that the machines are winning.  The store was fairly crowded, and Aldi’s had only one human checker on duty, a situation which forced people who were in a hurry (and who isn’t?) to forgo human contact (and decency) and check out on one of the machines.  Four of the six machines were interacting with customers while I waited patiently in line to be checked out by the only human cashier on duty.
 
You have to be shopping with a credit or debit card in order to use the machine checkouts, and I always use a credit card - so I am expecting some well-meaning store employee to “suggest” to me one day that I would save time and energy by going through the self-checkout.   When that happens, I intend to take a deep breath and then speak very politely and clearly on the need for more jobs in our community – instead of more job-stealing machines.
 
There are plenty of reasons that I no longer shop at Walmart – and self-checkout machines are just one of them.  They clearly show the company's disdain for paying wages and helping the American economy grow.
 
Aldi’s, you are on the highway to hell.   Hit the exit ramp while there is still time! 

The War the United States Will Not Fight

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

We, as a nation, will get righteously indignant over stories of war atrocities on foreign shores, especially if those stories contain tales of dead children, and we will rush arms, equipment, and all manner of support to those we regard as allies.  But let dead children pile up on our own shores, and those we largely ignore.

Twenty dead first graders - first graders, damnit! - little kids six-and-seven-years-old - scattered across their bloodied classroom floors in Newtown, Connecticut, and as a nation we manage little more than a polite "tsk-tsk."   A few years later nineteen fourth-graders (10-year-olds!) shot and killed in their classroom in Uvalde, Texas. "Ho, hum," the nation replied.

In both cases the shooters were young men who had access to automatic weaponry.

Now, last night, another young man with an automatic weapon opened fire in two public venues Lewiston, Maine, and killed sixteen to twenty-two individuals (and possibly more), and injured fifty or sixty others.  Some of his victims were undoubtedly children.  

Last night's reported shooter was a firearm's instructor who had received his training from the US military, and he was, of course, firing an automatic weapon.  The shooter had been hospitalized with mental health issues for two weeks this past summer, and he reportedly said that he has been hearing voices.    But none of that mental health history interfered with his constitutional "right" to carry automatic weaponry.  Maine has no restrictions on the open-carrying of firearms, nor does the state have any of those pesky red-flag laws that allow authorities to temporarily remove guns from people who are in some sort of mental or emotional distress.

The shooters (and the guns) have the rights, the dead people have the funerals.

Gun violence is a war on civilization - and it is a war that our government will not fight, at least not here at home.   We will spend and fight like hell to protect other people's children - and we should - but when it comes to protecting our own, the priority shifts and suddenly we are all about making it as easy as possible for Americans to own and stockpile guns.

Our children should be our priority - not guns.

Anything less is just political bullshit.

Cruz Curse Bites Houston

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

(Note:  Although this story is now seriously dated, I regard it as still worth archiving in this blog of scattered musings.)  

Texas US Senator Ted Cruz, a man beloved by damned few, took a personal shellacking this past week as his favorite sports team, the Houston Astros major league baseball team, lost their post season playoff series to the Texas Rangers, three games to four.  Some in Houston blamed the four straight home losses on Ted Cruz's presence in the stands at each of the games, and several Houston fans literally begged the Texas senator to stay away from the seventh and final game of the playoff series this past Monday night..

But the obstinate Cruz was in attendance along with his daughter, Catherine, and the Astros lost eleven to four.

Cruz's senate staff was aware that Rolling Stone magazine was doing what the senator's staff termed "a hit piece" regarding the alleged "Cruz curse," and the senator, in true Trumpian eloquence, referred to the article's authors as "lying hacks."

The senator was quick to point out that he and his daughter have a long history of attending "Stroh's" games, and that they had been in the stands for countless Houston victories, but many good Houstonians who understand the gravitas of sports' curses weren't having it.   Some fans took to social media before the final game of the series and cajoled, begged, and pleaded for the politician. "for the love of all things Houston," to stay away from game seven on Monday night.  " If the girls must come, send them with Heidi!"  But the bullheaded politician came anyway - and Houston lost eleven to four, with many local fans giving up and leaving the stadium during the sixth inning.

The article in Rolling Stone also mentioned that Cruz had been courtside in game seven of the 2018 NBA Western Conference Finals when the Houston Rockets lost to the Golden State Warriors, and the Rockets also managed to miss twenty-seven consecutive three-point shots.  Many credited Ted Cruz for that sports fiasco as well.

An article in The New Republic suggested that some see Cruz's interest in sports as being suspect after he referred to a "basketball hoop" as a "basketball ring" in the 2016 presidential debates.

Sports curses may be mostly superstition and hokum, but it still warms the cockles to see one occasionally envelop a political wart like Ted Cruz.

Hey Teddy, if you're not feeling the love in Houston, there are probably several good futbol teams in Cancun that would value your support - and winter's coming!

One More Reason Not to Fly

by Pa Rock

Traveling Fool

 

This past Sunday evening an off-duty Alaska Airlines pilot was catching a ride on Alaskan Airlines flight from Everett, Washington, to San Francisco, California.   The flight was being operated by a regional carrier, Horizon Airlines.  The hitchhiking pilot was seated in the spare “jump seat” in the plane’s cockpit behind the pilot and first officer.  At some point not too long after leaving Everett, and after the plane had reached its normal flying altitude, the visiting pilot tried to shut down the plane’s engines while it was in flight.
 
The would-be mass-murderer, Joseph David Emerson, was unsuccessful in his attempt to turn off the engines of the aircraft, and airline personnel managed to subdue him and remove him from the cockpit.  The plane made an emergency landing in Portland where the homicidal pilot was arrested and charged with, among other things, the attempted murder of 83 individuals.     The other passengers, the ones who paid for their transport, were booked onto other flights at the airport in Portland.

It is apparently a common airline practice for off-duty pilots, flight attendants, and other airline personnel to snag free rides in the cockpit jump seats.  

Perhaps saving the cost of a regular passenger seat by crowding an extra one into the cockpit is not such a good idea.  Perhaps it is also a risky business to have that many people whose lives are totally dependent on the fragile mental health of the individuals flying the plane, sitting almost on each other’s laps seven miles up in the air.
 

If airline travel is stressful on passengers, and I am saying that it is, then it is undoubtedly stressful on pilots and other airline personnel as well - and there are obvious dangers in flying "stressed out" skies.  

Just sayin’ . . . 

Pole-Dancing Skeleton Splits Utah Community

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

The small town of Grantsville, Utah, (population 13,000 plus) is located on Interstate 80 thirty-six miles west of Salt Lake City.  The town, generally white and conservative, appears to be a microcosm of the rest of the state.  Grantsville is not particularly well known outside of Utah, but that has begun changing over the past few days.

Sometime last week a city resident put up a Halloween display that proved to be quite controversial.   The clever work of art featured a Halloween skeleton pole-dancing on a city street sign - "really working the pole" as one press account put it - while other skeletons sat in nearby folding chairs tossing money at the dancer.  City officials were less than amused, and on Wednesday the city posted a notice on Facebook giving the perpetrator (artist) had until 9:30 that evening to remove the display from the city property.

The artist showed up and collected his work before the deadline.    He took it to a private residence where he set up an even more elaborate display in the front yard.  The new scene included a lighted pole  and the outline of a lighted stage, a bigger crowd of skeletons enjoying the bump-and-grind performance, and even a tip jar.  Many in the town of Grantsville are righteously outraged at what they feel is a tribute to rampant immorality, but others are having fun with it.  Some have brought decorations of their own to enhance the show, and many are leaving tips in the jar.

One woman told a reporter at the display that she was going to tip the dancer because she knew what it was like to work for tips.

There is no word yet on what the artist has planned for Christmas.

Rosie in Autumn

 

by Pa Rock

Rosie, my best friend and constant companion, is nine years old now and while she still enjoys the occasional burst of energy that sends her racing across the yard in pursuit of a chattering squirrel, she is getting older and has slowed down.  Rosie is in the autumn of her life - and I am in the winter of mine.

Rosie was born in July of 2014, shortly after I relocated to the midwest from Arizona, and I discovered her - and her sister - mewling in a cardboard box on a tabletop at a roadside puppy stand in Caulfield Missouri, on September 1st.   Rosie, at one--pound and one-ounce, was the larger of the two chihuahuas.  She had a small white blaze on each foot and on her forehead.  When I picked her up she licked my face and I knew that she would probably be the perfect companion for this lonely, old, displaced civil servant.  However,  I somehow managed to put her back in the box with her sister and head on to Mountain Home, Arkansas, to do some planned shopping at a lumber yard. I told myself that if she was still there when I came back through a couple of hours later, that it would be a sign that it was meant to be.

The lady was still there when I came back through, and although the little sister had ridden off in a car filled with strangers to a place called Chicago, Rosie was nestled in her box and waiting on me to rescue her.  I pulled ten twenty-dollar bills from my wallet, bundled Rosie into my car, and we went home and never looked back.  

Yes, you can buy happiness - if you are smart enough to recognize it when it licks you in the face!

When we got to her new home, Rosie was so small that I had to carry her up and down the porch steps. I had some geese and domestic turkeys who all wanted to crowd around and look at the tiny oddity, and they were all very frightening to the farm's newcomer.  But soon everyone adjusted, and Rosie is now the undisputed Queen of the Roost.

But Rosie is also older and beginning to suffer some of the maladies associated with old age.   Her eyes have fogged over, and although she can still see, her vision is definitely not what it used to be.  I sympathize strongly, because my vision is also beginning to falter.  Rosie used to stand on the back porch at first light and last light and bark incessantly at the deer gathered at the far end on the field as they grazed on the tall grasses.  Much of the time I could not even see the visitors in the dim light, but Rosie could, and the fact that they dared to invade her property was maddening to my little dog.  (As far as land ownership goes, if Rosie can see it, it's hers!)

Last spring when my friend Rex was bush hogging, he pulled down a large nuisance sapling that was interfering with the growth of a more established tree,  Rex is usually extremely neat with his work, but that particular time he left a ragged stump that is about four-feet tall - and at a distance it sort of resembles a short human.  The human stump is off in the direction of where the deer graze, but closer to the house, and Rosie can see it.  Now instead of barking at the deer, she focuses on that strange person who is standing on her land and gets infuriated when her barking will not scare him off!

Rosie and I are both nearing the ends of our brief strolls through life, and we have been fortunate to have encountered each other and spent time together along the way.

The value of a good friend is beyond measure.

The Ungaggable Blowhard

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

It appears to this consumer of news that consumate blowhard and continual public nuisance Donald Trump is currently dealing with two gag orders.  One, a limited gag order issued by D.C. District Judge Tanya Chutka regarding the politician's involvement in the 2020 election interference case, has temporarily been stayed in order to give the parties involved time to submit their appeal briefs.  

The other gag order, filed by Judge Arthur Engoron who is presiding over Trump's civil fraud trial in New York, is still in effect.  Apparently part of that order included a proviso that Trump remove a statement from his campaign web site that disparages the judge's clerk and which the judge asserts is untrue.   Yesterday Judge Engoron learned that Trump has not removed the statement about the judge's clerk from his campaign web site, and the judge fined Trump $5,000 for defying his order.

In noting that "incendiary untruths can and have led to serious physical harm," Judge Engpron went on to say:

"Make no mistake: future violations, whether intentional or unintentional, will subject the violator to far more severe sanctions, which may include, but are not limited to, steeper financial penalties, holding Donald Trump in contempt of court, and possibly imprisoning him."

There are political skeptics who are observing Trump's four-ring judicial circus and noting that he seems to be turning a tidy profit with his victimhood.  Trump wails that all of the court actions are "witch-hunts," and every time somebody picks on him he hits his rubes up for another donation.  Trump says he is a billionaire, but news stories indicate that he is using donations from his supporters to pay his lawyers, so he must clearly be far below the ranks of a Musk, Bezos, or a Gates - or any of their ex-wives.

It almost feels like Donald Trump is daring America's judicial system to lock him up, and that the judges are struggling to come up with ways to keep from giving him what he is begging for.  Trump being photographed entering prison, or any detention facility, would be a gold mine for him - and Trump knows it.  It would open a floodgate of anger and money and votes.  

The judge roars and Trump ignores him while smiling and thinking, "Come on Artie, make my day!"

It is a political Catch-22.  Trump is not above the law, yet if the law is enforced, he is the one who will ultimately benefit.

The only thing better for Donald Trump than being incarcerated for his sins, would be if the government chose to hang him on a cross instead!

The grifter continues to prevail.

Sorting the Servants

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

For those who have been holding off on employing a large domestic staff to help manage their lives and homes simply because they don't know what types of servants they should hire or what duties those servants should be prepared to perform, I am developing a practical guide to address those very issues.

My project began a couple of weeks ago when I was reading a piece on the late British author, P.G. Wodehouse.  Wodehouse was a comedic author and two of his most memorable characters were the rich playboy, Bertie Wooster, and his valet (and sidekick) Jeeves, a man whose main function in life was cleaning up Bertie's messes.  Not having too much experience with the British aristocracy, I had always thought of Jeeves as some sort of traveling butler, and the term "valet" just washed right over me.  While reading the article on the internet, however, I learned the actual distinction between a butler and a valet.  A butler serves the house and concentrates on ensuring that things function properly - and a valet meets the needs of the individual - shoes shined, clothes pressed, and the like.

I began thinking about the other servants that I've come across on British television mysteries and in Agatha Christie novels.

Many of the rich Brits, for instance, employ governesses to care for their children.  My assumption was that a governess was an in-house babysitter who kept the kids busy and out of the parents' way.  I was surprised to learn that a governess is usually a professionally trained educator whose primary responsibility is teaching the children at home.  That person often resides in the house as well.  (I was careful not to assign a gender to the role of governess because, even though the title sounds like it would refer to a female, men could also be trained educators who are hired to teach and take care of children.  ChatGPT says that the term "governrness" is gender neutral and could be used with regard to females and males.)

An "au pair" also takes care of children within the home.  Au pairs are often young people who serve in homes in foreign lands on an exchange basis, and they are usually young people.  An au pair may be employed for their language abilities - to teach and use their language with the children in the home - to supervise homework, and to do light housework.  While au pairs may functtion to a certain extent in teaching children and they may be actively pursuing their own education, they are not established, trained educators like governesses.

The degree of training and professionalism is also what distinguishes a chauffeur from just an ordinary driver.  A driver is a person who operates a vehicle.  A person may hire a driver to take them someplace or to drive their vehicle for a specific period of time.  A chauffeur is a professional who is trained in customer service.  Chauffeurs tend to be more formal in their service, drive for the same individual or family for an extended period of time, and they are often operate luxury vehicles.

And finally, for this session at least, every well-heeled household should have a housekeeper.  Some think of a housekeeper as a person who keeps a house tidy, but a true housekeeper is a person who manages a household and keeps in running.  The housekeeper makes sure that cleaning and maintenance are scheduled and performed, and he or she oversees lesser staff like maids,  housemen or houseboys, pool boys, and gardeners.  Sometimes the primary butler will function as the house manager.

Those are most of the positions that the filthy rich should address.  For those planning on winning the lottery when it is well past a billion dollars and becoming extra-filthy rich, you would also benefit from being knowledgable about groundskeepers, gamekeepers, and polo grooms.

Living well does not come cheaply!

Lesko Leaving: Another GOP House Retirement

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Technically, I suppose, I have a connection to three members of Congress, although only one of the three truly represents my views on just about anything.  Jason Smith, a knee-jerk Republican from Missouri's  most rural district, represents the area where I actually live, and I dutifully go to the polls and vote against him every two years - and he always easily wins.   Although a lawyer and real estate developer by trade, Jason fancies himself a farmer, and most weekends when he manages to get home, Jason dons a pair of old blue jeans and goes out to get his picture taken with his rural constituents - often with farm machinery and/or livestock in the background.

I also closely follow the actions and votes of Sharice Davids, a Democrat from the third district of Kansas - located in the suburbs of Kansas City.  Ms. Davids, the only Democrat currently serving in the Kansas delegation to Congress, is a former mixed martial arts professional fighter and the only openly LGBTQ+ member of Congress from Kansas.  She was also one of the first two Native American women elected to Congress.  Sharice represents the district where two of my grandchildren live, and I am happy to send her campaign donations.  We think alike on most issues.

My third member of Congress is another Republican, a woman named Debbie Lesko who represents Arizona's 8th congressional district, an over-developed patch of desert west of Phoenix where I used to live when I worked at Luke Air Force Base.  Back when I lived there, a decade ago, the area was represented by another Republican, Trent Franks, a staunchly religious and pious individual whose main interest in being in Congress was to do everything that he could to stop abortions.  Politically, Trent was very much a one-trick pony.  But a couple of years after I left and came back to the Ozarks, Trent got in some trouble for suggesting to a couple of his female aids that they consider being surrogate parents for him and his wife.   After that story broke nationally, Trent quickly resigned and a special election was held which Lesko, a fairly new state senator, eventually won with a surprisingly small plurality.

But Debbie survived and grew in office.  She is now in her third full term and did not even have an opponent in her last race.    A native of Wisconsin, Congresswoman Lesko has learned her Arizona constituency well and gives them as much conservatism as they can handle - which is quite a lot.  In most ways Lesko is like my other GOP congressman, Jason Smith, except that she doesn't dress like a slob when she comes home to glad-hand constituents  - and she has more personality.

I regard Lesko as my third representative because she somehow or another has my name on her email list - although I was never on Trent's.    I get her weekly emails as well as the occasional questionnaire, and though I never give answers on the questionnaires that would strengthen her already-firm positions, she keeps me on her mailing lists none-the-less.

This week Debbie Lesko, who has served only three terms in Congress and appears to be doing quite well by low-bar Republican standards, has announced that she is stepping down and will not run for re-election in 2024.  Lesko, who is sixty-four, says that she wants to spend more time with her family, a laudable goal, and she also bemoans the obvious fact that "DC is broken."

(When your seemingly best option for a House Speaker is political bully who contributed to the sexual abuse of college athletes through his silence, then yup, DC definitely has some shortcomings!)

Good luck Debbie, and enjoy your family.  Be sure to let your successor know about my invaluable political insights.  I would be happy to receive his or her emails as well.

Next US Census May Contain a Time Capsule

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Somehow or another my name and email address invariably find their way onto a variety of e-newsletters, some of which I immediately "unsubscribe" to, and others of which I come to enjoy.  One of the ones in the latter category is a newsletter put out by the US Census Bureau which apprises me of aggregate material which can now be accessed from the recent 2020 federal census - as well as plans and ideas for the next national census which will be held in 2030.  

One of the innovations that the Census Bureau has incorporated since the completion of the 2020 census is an effort to gain public input into new features for the next census, ways that might help improve the count and provide a clearer picture of who is actually residing in the United States at the time of the census.  A year or two ago the Census Bureau had a campaign to solicit suggestions for the 2030 census from the public.  I didn't have any great ideas, so I chose to not get involved, but over 8,000 people did have ideas which they submitted.

Some people suggested things that the Census Bureau was already working on, and in some cases those projects were expanded due to public interest.  There were also a few new ideas that intrigued census personnel to the point that they have initiated research projects around them to ascertain their feasibility.  One of those new ideas which the Census Bureau is seriously considering is the notion of including a personal "time capsule" in the 2030 census.

The time capsule would give a space for respondents to leave a personal message for people who access their census forms over seven decades later.

The way it currently works is like this.  The Census Bureau collects a wide range of personal information on each census form - things like age, gender, race and ethnicity, family income, housing arrangements, languages spoken in the home, educational levels, and many other things which give the government and social researchers a better view of who actually lives in the country.  Much of that information quickly begins being compiled in aggregate form - numbers without personal identifying information - and made available to researchers as well as to government agencies who must allocate resources based on specific population numbers and other criteria.

But the personal information, that connected to specific individuals by name is not released until seventy-two years after the information has been collected.  Last year, for example, copies of the original forms from the 1950 census were released for public scrutiny - and I was able to go in and find myself as a two-year-old on a copy of the actual form that was collected by a census taker who came to my parents' home and asked them questions about the family.  My sister, who was born later in 1950 after the information had already been collected, did not make it onto the 1950 census.  Her name will make its first appearance in the public census rolls in  2032 when the 1960 census is released for public scrutiny.

Now, if this new idea for a time capsule goes through, a family member will be able to leave a personal message on the 2030 census, and that message will not surface again until that census is released for public examination seventy-two years later - in 2102.   And won't the world be a much different place by then!

Not everyone trusts the census, due in large measure to the Trump administration's nefarious work to control the numbers by maligning the process back in 2020, but it is an important process, mandated by the Constitution, that gives us the clearest picture of who were are as a nation.  The more people who respond, the clearer that picture becomes and the more fairly our nation's resources can be distributed among the populace. It is to everyone's benefit to participate.  Part of the rational for this inclusion of a time capsule in the next census is that feature not only will help to personalize an otherwise cold document, but it might spark an interest among reluctant holdouts to become involved in the nation's headcount.

A census time capsule is a good idea.  I wish that I had thought of it!

(I buried a time capsule once - on a hilltop above the Elk River in McDonald County, Missouri.  It was a fruit jar, tightly sealed, that contained a few coins, a couple of predictions - like who would win the World Series that year - and some other items that I have since forgotten.  I suspect the year was 1964 which was also the year that the St. Louis Cardinals, my World Series prediction, won the title - their first championship since 1946.  I would have been sixteen at the time I buried that capsule.  I guess I should go dig it up - God knows I could use the coins!)

Edge of Darkness: Maybe We Deserve Jim Jordan

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Just about every weekend is a long weekend when your "work" is being a member of the US House of Representatives.   Your workweek begins somewhere in mid-morning on a Tuesday and you head back home to your district - or fly off to visit exotic destinations - on Thursday afternoon.  Congressmen are then free to spend four full days dealing with the concerns of their constituents, or not.  And while that may not sound overly rigorous to their constituents who make their living in factories - or in schools, hospitals, or behind fast-food counters, or on farms - those three-day workweeks can be quite draining on members of Congress, so they then must compensate by building plenty of extended breaks into their busy schedules so that they can take those important fact-finding trips abroad to political hotspots like Fiji.  (Senator Marsha Blackburn of Tennessee, I'm still looking at you!)

But Jim Jordan didn't spend last weekend on a beach sipping daiquiris.   The jacketless congressman from Ohio has clocked four busy days working the phones and making personal visits to fellow members as he tried to cajole, promise, and threaten his way into the House speakership.    He also had his minions in conservative news outlets blanketing the air with unsubtle threats to the reelection chances of members who dared to oppose him.

This afternoon Jim will get to roll-up his sleeves, pose for more photos, and count the votes of his weekend of crass intimidation.  Politico calls it "Jim Jordan's Day of Reckoning."

Jordan, a founder of the House "Freedom Caucus," the right-wing rabble whose membership was largely responsible for ousting House Speaker Kevin McCarthy, will learn this afternoon whether the full House will give him the respect of electing him on the first ballot, or if he will have to  suffer the indignity of multiple ballots before ultimately reigning supreme.  All of the public signals that his camp has been sending are of cocky self-assurance that ultimately the prize is going to be his.

Perhaps it will.  Jim wins, America loses, and life goes on.  Sadly it is never about us, it is always about them and their egos.  Democracy seems to have gotten lost in the details of governing.

I'm old (not as old as Trump, but old nevertheless), and I won't be around long enough suffer much from this new political dark age that we seem to be entering, but my children and grandchildren (and yours) will have to deal with a government of mean-spirited retribution that a minority of angry conservatives seem hellbent to foist upon us.

My generation found the world a better place, one filled with hope and promise as civilization emerged from the Great Depression and a monstrous global war, but we have faltered in our stewardship of the planet and of democracy, and are leaving the world poised at the edge of a new darkness.  

Shame on us.  Maybe we deserve Jim Jordan.

Doctors Without Borders Goes Where the Hurt is Happening

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Giving to charities can often be a risky business because there are many unscrupulous organizations who would like to have some of your money - organizations whose primary purpose seems to be to feed their founders and administrators rather than relieve the actual suffering and pain of the unwashed masses.   But there are also plenty of good groups out there, ones who actually go in and address human needs right at the point of the suffering.

Doctors Without Borders is an international group that sends physicians, medical personnel, and life-saving medicines and equipment to some of the most desolate places on earth, places that are in the throes of a humanitarian crisis.  For those concerned with the credibility of charities, and we all should have a good understanding of the honesty and efficacy of groups we help to fund, Doctors Without Borders received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1999, a clear indication that it does the critical work that it purports to do.

Doctors Without Borders doesn't go into a crisis situation to choose sides or promote political ideologies. They arrive, roll up their sleeves, and go to work relieving pain and suffering.  Their mission is to serve humanity, and they do it selflessly and tirelessly.  

Doctors Without Borders goes where the need is.  The organization finds a way in, and it works nonstop to meet the medical needs and trauma of humanitarian crises caused by natural disasters, disease, and war.   I have supported the group with a monthly contribution - and often additional donations - for nearly twenty years - ever since the massive tsunami in Southeast Asia in 2004 that killed almost a quarter of a million people.  Yesterday evening I donated again.

I know that my meager donations are helping because Doctors Without Borders is right there - where the hurt is happening.

Around the World in an Airship

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

I first wrote about airships in this blog back in early 2008 when the Goodyear Blimp floated over my apartment home in Goodyear, Arizona, on its way just up the road to film that year's Super Bowl which was being played in Goodyear.

Then, in May of 2022, this blog's good friend, Ranger Bob, posted an account of a US Navy dirigible, the USS Los Angeles, spending part of the evening of October 10th, 1928, hovering over the small town of Wheeling in northern Missouri where Bob's mother, a young girl at the time, was living.   The young naval officer in command of the airship had been born in Wheeling, and his father still lived there in 1928.  (Ranger Bob's account of that night and the naval officer's subsequent career may be found in this blog's posting for May 30, 2022.)

Today I have an account of another (proposed) airship which has been in the news of late.  

A private company in France, Euro Airship, is preparing to start the construction of a large solar and hydrogen powered airship called "Solar Airship One" that should be ready to sail in 2026.  The floating craft, which resembles a very large standard blimp, will be unique in that it will be powered by the sun and hydrogen, and it will leave no carbon footprint.    The new craft should, in theory at least, be essentially free to operate.  When the new airship becomes airborne in 2026, it will be piloted by a team of three individuals, and one of its first outings will be a trip around the world, roughly over the equator, a journey of approximately 25,000 miles.  It will be floating at about 20,000 feet in the air and should take around twenty days to circumnavigate the globe.

The new airship will be encased in solar panels which will power the craft during daylight hours and store energy in batteries which will be used to activate hydrogen fuel cells to keep the airship moving during darkness.  There will be zero emissions and, theoretically at least, the craft should be able to fly day-and-night forever.

The aim of this new project is to offer an eco-friendly alternative to the high pollution and carbon emissions of the airline industry.  Yes, it will be slower than traditional air travel, but it could also be far more comfortable and relaxing, as well as safer.  Cargo delivery by airships will be slower than by airplane,  but it should also be considerably more economical, and cargo delivery by airship should also prove to be faster than cargo which travels by ships on the water.  

The new project has one serious sustainability issue.  It will be carried aloft by helium packets, and helium is a non-renewable resource - once it escapes into the atmosphere, it is gone forever.

Several other companies are also at work on developing eco-friendly airships, including one headed by Sergey Brin, the founder of Google.

The future is rampaging into the present and the world is changing faster than it ever has before.  Buckle up, buttercup - and enjoy the ride!

The Princess and her Podium

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Sarah Huckabee Sanders, an Arkansas political princess who grew up in a milieu of fundamentalist Baptist religion and GOP politics and refined her political skills as the official spokesperson for the biggest liar to ever serve as President of the United States, knows a thing or two about the power of presentation - and what better way to present like a pro than to stand behind a truly awesome podium as you regurgitate your daily talking points.

Huckabee Sanders, who is now the Governor of Arkansas, a position once held by her preacher daddy, must have truly been proud this past June when she, or a member of her staff, was able to plop down a state credit card and purchase a really sweet podium from Beckett Events LLC for just $19,029!  (The Associated Press has reported that was significantly higher than other lecterns listed online.)

And things were fine in Walmartland until September when a blogger discovered the purchase and wrote about it.  From that point on it looks as though a cover-up ensued, and it got sloppy.

The Arkansas Republican Party jumped in and quickly reimbursed the state for the entire cost of the podium.  Apparently, according to press reports, Huckabee Sanders' executive assistant then added the words "to be reimbursed" to the original invoice - and an email from a different state employee indicated that someone had told the executive assistant to add that phrase but not to indicate when it had been added.

An attorney in Rogers, Arkansas, sent a letter to an Arkansas legislator stating that he has an anonymous witness who has evidence that the governor's office altered non-exempt Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) documents, withheld other documents, and removed portions of emails that were subject to public records requests.

The Arkansas blogger who broke the story of the podium purchase had also filed suit against the Arkansas State Police alleging that agency had illegally withheld records that he had requested through the Freedom of Information Act relative to the governor's travel costs, and the governor responded by asking the state legislature to exempt more records from FOIA requests.  Part of the stated rationale for hiding more information from the public was to provide better security to the governor and other state officials.  A new, more restrictive law was passed - and it was made retroactive to June 1, 2022.

Now there is a new citizen's group in Arkansas that is concerned that the new law is intended to hide malfeasance in government, and they are pushing a state constitutional amendment to guarantee more transparency in government.

Yesterday, in reaction to all of the controversy regarding legislative attempts to hide government business from public view, the state's Leglisative Joint Auditing Committee approved an audit, to be performed by independent auditors but under the direction of the state legislature.  The audit will examine the purchase of the governor's new podium to see if any state laws were broken - and to see if public records related to the purchase were altered illegally, what else was purchased during the FOIA blackout period of June 22, 2022 until the present, and the best way to make the results of the audit public.

Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders appears to be more than a little perturbed at all of this political hubbub.  She notes that the state has been reimbursed, and believes that "some people are always going to be angry, always looking to complain about (something), and that's what they're picking right now."

Some of the governor's constituents who drive cars that are worth less than her podium might disagree.

Elect Clowns, Expect a Circus

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

The United States House of Representatives remains leaderless and dead-in-the-water this morning after their Speaker designee, Congressman Steve Scalise of Louisiana, withdrew from the Speaker's race last night.  Scalise, the current House Majority Leader, was nominated by the Republican Party to be its official Speaker nominee two days ago, but he quit the race yesterday after determining that he did not have enough votes to win the position in a full vote of the House.

Some of the Republican right-wing extremists in the House, of which there are several, came out in opposition to Scalise stating that he was not conservative enough for their taste.

What is the actual level of institutional insanity when a white, male southerner from Louisiana who once described himself as (Klansman) "David Duke without the baggage" is deemed not conservative enough to run the place?

The GOP caucus is scheduled to meet again today to try and find some way to agree on a leader.  Supposedly they will take another look at Judiciary Committee Chairman "Jacketless" Jim Jordan, the man whom Scalise beat two days ago in a secret ballot vote to be the GOP's official nominee for Speaker.  But just as.there were "conservatives" who blocked Scalise, there are also "moderates " who seem to be standing ready to torpedo Jordan's chances of winning a vote in the full House.

There is still a lot of star power in the House that hasn't been tested with a vote for Speaker yet:  Lauren "Beetlejuice" Boebert of Colorado, for instance, or the charming Paul Gosar of Arizona, or everybody's favorite Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia - any of whom could probably muster fifteen or twenty votes of the 217 needed to be elected Speaker.  Or how about Congressman Matt Gaetz of Florida, the man who started all of this frivolity by moving to oust the last Speaker, Kevin McCarthy?  Gaetz might be able to come up with someone to put his name in nomination.

Some are apparently still promoting the idea of electing Donald Trump as Speaker of the House, but running the House, an institution which has been known to work as many as three days a week, probably would not appeal to Trump,  a man better known for throwing tantrums and plates of food than he is for punching clocks and maintaining regular office hours.

Another possibility would be to bring back one of the former Republican House Speakers to take over until a new House is seated in January of 2025.  Paul Ryan probably has too much class to be interested in another term at the helm, but too much class would definitely not be a problem for John Boehner, Newt Gingrich, or Kevin McCarthy.  And let's not forget four-term GOP House Speaker Dennis Hastert who is out of prison now and should also be available for a political comeback.

There are Republicans in Congress who ran on pledges to begin defunding and shutting down various parts of the government.   Who knew they would start with themselves?

Hey members of the House GOP, best of luck in your continuing search for someone that almost all of you can stomach - and happy Friday the 13th!

Olive at Twelve

 

by Pa Rock

Proud Grandpa

Olive Noel Macy, one of my two favorite granddaughters, is a full dozen years old today.  To help Olive celebrate her birthday, I understand that her school has cancelled classes for today and tomorrow!
 
Olive was born in Kansas not too far from where she currently lives with her mother, father, and seven-year-old brother, Sully.   Her parents were living in Kansas City, Missouri, when she was born, and I was home on leave from my job on Okinawa.  I followed them to the hospital that morning and was among the first to welcome little Olive into the world.  It was a very special day and I remember it well!.
 
Last year Olive was in fifth grade and doing great in school both academically and socially.  She was experiencing so much success, in fact, that at the end of the school year she was promoted – not to sixth grade, but to seventh!   I haven’t been able to get up that way very much this year, but I understand that she has fit nicely into seventh grade and is doing quite well there also.  Olive likes school and we are all very proud of her!
 
The theatre is Olive’s passion, and for the past several years she has attended classes and been involved in stage plays at The Culture House in Olathe, Kansas.  Later this month she will perform the role of Spider in that group’s production of “James and the Giant Peach, Jr,” which is based on the novel by Roald Dahl.  Spider is a prominent character in the play, and I will be in the theatre to cheer her on during one of the performances.  Break a leg, Olive!
 
I understand that tonight (since there really is no school today or tomorrow) Olive and a few of her friends are headed to Worlds of Fun in Kansas City to experience some haunted houses.  I’m betting that will be a real scream-fest!
 
Happy birthday, Olive.  May your day be filled with happiness, love, smiles, laughter, and plenty of presents!  Eat some cake and ice cream for me!

 

Wally Truly is an Emotional Support Alligator

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

When I first heard the story of the man who had been denied entry to a Philadelphia Phillies baseball game because he brought along his emotional support alligator, I assumed it was just some stunt by a publicity-seeking knucklehead who was trying to capture his fifteen minutes of fame. 

Joie Henney is a woodcrafter and part-time reptile rescuer who lives in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  Several years ago a friend in Florida gave Henney a one-year-old (20-inches-long) alligator that had been captured in a Florida lagoon and needed a good home.  Henney and his gator, whose name is Wally, have been together ever since.  Wally is now eight-years-old, six-feet long, and weighs fifty-five pounds.

Henney said that Wally is unique in the fact that he does not bite, nor does he ever exhibit anger or aggression - and most other alligators will get angry and snappish.   Several years ago after Joie Henney's doctor noticed the close relationship that Henney had with his alligator, he suggested that the reptile rescuer get the creature certified by the state of Pennsylvania as an emotional support animal, which he has done.

Wally has a huge social media following on Instagram and TikTok, and people rush to pet and hug him whenever he and his human go for walks in the community.  Wally wears a harness and is led by a leash when they are on these outings, but he is not muzzled.  Henney said that Wally loves to be held, hugged, and is especially partial to having his chin rubbed.

The incident at the ballpark in Philadelphis two weeks ago sounds as though it may have been due to a misunderstanding.  Henney says that Wally never goes anyplace where he hasn't been invited, and that members of the Phillies team had invited Wally to come to the game and meet the players.  Unfortunately they arrived late, after the team had already taken to the field.  A friend then tried to get them tickets to go in and watch the game, and that was when they were turned away.  Henney said they left quietly without any argument.  They have been told that why will be invited back again.

Is Wally truly an "emotional support animal" for his human?  Henney put it this way:

"He's just lovable.  He sleeps with me, steals my pillows, steals my blankets.  He's just awesome."

Wally's human also said:

"He means a lot to me. Actually, he means as much to me as my children."

Jason Smith Tries to Blame Dems for GOP Fiasco

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Missouri 8th district congressman, Jason Smith, a Republican who also happens to be the Chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee thanks to the political largess of former Speaker Kevin McCarthy, was on a tear in his email newsletter this week as he tried (in vain) to blame the current House of Representatives dysfunction (which centers on last week's removal of Kevin McCarthy as Speaker) on Democratic members of the House.

The move, which occurred when a member of the House, Representative Matt Gaetz of Florida, a Republican, made a motion to "vacate" the Speaker's chair, a move which ultimately resulted in McCarthy being removed as Speaker.   A total of eight right-wing radical Republicans joined in the effort to remove McCarthy, and those votes, along with the votes of the Democratic minority in Congress, were enough to get the job done.

Democrats did not make the motion to vacate.   If the Democratic Party had held a majority in the House, which it did not, there would have been a Democratic Speaker and no need to replace the abysmally weak and ineffective McCarthy.

Republicans made the motion, brought the drama to a boil, and provided the votes that removed their Speaker from power.  It was not, as Jason Smith would like his constituents to believe, some political  coup d'etat by Democrats.   Republicans removed Kevin McCarthy as the Speaker of the House of Representatives.  It was (and is) their House and their mess!

On another note:

Those of us of a certain age can remember when the House Ways and Means Committee was an important element of Congress, but under Smith's lackluster leadership the once powerful committee has devolved into little more than a third-prong in the GOP's ill-fated attempt to impeach the President. The congressman from Missouri has spent a big wad of taxpayer money moving the committee around to various locations in the United States to hold public hearings, but these congressional mini-vacations come off as vain attempts to spread impeachment fever based on "evidence" that is little more than gossip and irrelevant innuendo.  

As an example, on Wednesday, September 27th, Congressman Smith, who usually addresses the public from the safety of Fox News, was questioned by mainstream journalists over some of the flimsy "evidence" being put forth by his and two other congressional committees which are consumed with trying to build a case against the President based on the business affairs of his son.  At a press conference that day, Smith was presenting "new evidence" which purportedly showed that Biden was using political influence to help his son.

NBC reporter Ryan Nobles declined to accept Smith's statement at face value and pointed out that in August of 2017, when the influencing supposedly took place, Joe Biden was not serving in any public office, nor was he running for any office at that time.  Where was his influence?  Congressman Smith stammered back that he was "not an expert on the timeline," but Nobles persisted.  If Biden was not the President or the Vice-President at that time, "Where's the wrongdoing?"

Jason Smith got defensive and suggested that the reporter, Mr. Nobles, "will never believe us," to which Ryan Nobles replied:

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, I'm asking you a very direct question.  You presented a piece of evidence that you say came on August 6, 2017, that demonstrates that Joe Biden was using political influence to help his son.  I'm completely open-minded about this.  I'm asking you specifically, how does that demonstrate that there is some sort of political influence being put over him, if at that time, he is not a political, he's not an elected official."

Ryan Nobles was pressing for an explanation, but Congressman Smith was either unable or unwilling to provide one.

All-in-all, Congressman Jason Smith has probably had better weeks.

This Would be a Great Day to Release Leonard Peltier

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Indigenous Peoples' Day, a day set aside in the United States to celebrate and honor indigenous peoples along with their histories and cultures.   President Joe Biden officially proclaimed the observance two years ago in 2021 and it is now officially celebrated on the second Monday in October, the same day on which the Federal Government shuts itself down to observe Columbus Day.

And yes, Virginia, Columbus Day is still an official thing - a holiday basically honoring Italian-American heritage while trying to overlook more than five centuries of the savage mistreatment of America's original settlers.

That's the way it is.  The first human settlers of this vast continent, the ones who carefully shared and shepherded its resources, now share a holiday with the man who led the invasion that stripped all of the country's vast wealth and beauty away from them, the man who brought disease, gold fever, and the concept of slavery to these once idyllic shores.

No one represents the downfall and plight of indigenous Americans more than a federal prisoner in Florida by the name of Leonard Peltier.  Peltier, now 78, is a frail old man who is in a maximum security prison in Florida.  He suffers from diabetes, hypertension, and partial blindness from a stroke and an abdominal aortic aneurysm.  He has also recently undergone a bout with COVID.

There was a shooting at the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota in 1975 that resulted in the deaths of two FBI agents and the arrest and trial of several people, Peltier being one on them.  His co-defendants were all acquitted based on various degrees of cooperation with the government and claims of self-defense.  During Peltier's trial the government withheld a ballistics report that said the fatal bullets did not come from Peltier's gun.  When the dust of the trial settled Leonard Peltier was the only person on whom the government was able to obtain a conviction - one which said he had "aided and abetted" in the killing of the FBI agents.   To this day no one has been accused of committing the actual murders, although the FBI still refers to Peltier as the murderer of its two agents.

Peltier's trial featured many errors which have been played and replayed in the press over the nearly five decades that he has been in prison, including the retention of one juror who admitted to a prejudice against Native Americans on the second day of the trial.   Peltier's release on both procedural and humanitarian grounds has been sought over the years by many noteworthy organizations like Amnesty International, as well as scores of humanitarians like Pope Francis, the Dalai Lama, Nelson Mandala, and Bishop Desmond Tutu.   Joe Biden and all of his successors who have served in the White House during the years of Peltier's imprisonment have routinely turned a deaf ear to all requests for mercy, compassion, and even just basic fairness in this case.

Former FBI agent Coleen Rowley, at one time an agency insider, called for clemency for Leonard Peltier earlier this year.  Rowley said that the FBI's stubborn opposition to Peltier's release was driven by "vindictiveness." 

America's longest serving political prisoner is seeking clemency and a new trial, one which would be decades removed from all of the prejudicial noise that swamped the justice system in the late 1970's, but the FBI and the government remain firm in their belief that justice was served - and must continue to be served - regardless of a lack of any hard evidence pointing to Leonard Peltier as the person who actually shot and killed two FBI agent in 1975.

Joe Biden has proclaimed a holiday - and that holiday would be a great time to go back and correct a long-standing vendetta that our country has relentlessly pursued against one tired and lonely old man who wants nothing more than a couple of years of freedom to die wrapped in the warmth of his family.

Show some backbone, Joe, and some mercy!

Free Leonard Peltier!

Coming Home to a Parade

 

(Editor's Note:  Today the Ramble features another submission from my good friend, Ranger Bob.  The guest writer, who grew up in a small town in northern Missouri, discusses small town parades, a social staple of rural America.  I hope you enjoy this stroll down memory lane as much as I did.  Thanks, Ranger Bob, for sharing these beautiful memories!)

Coming Home to a Parade

by Bob Randall

Small towns across the country proclaim their pride once a year by holding some sort of festival. Some are creative. One community back east wakes up their pet ground hog on February 2 and with straight faces, they pretend that their rodent can predict the change of seasons. Another in Ohio celebrates the springtime return of turkey vultures to their countryside. I am more comfortable with end of summer festivals and Labor Day seems like a good day for inviting everyone to be a citizen for a day whether born there or not.

A few years back I attended a small town’s fall festival parade and found myself sitting on Main Street’s curb applauding each float as it went by. There was a tractor pulling a hay wagon loaded with the class of 1991. I didn’t know any of those classmates. It wasn’t my hometown. The fire truck said, “Marionville Volunteer Fire Department” on the door but I read it as something more familiar. I can’t recall if there were kids riding bikes with colored crepe paper threaded through the spokes. Maybe I just saw them in my mind. The marching band was from some other, larger town. Past and present blended. My reality faded into 1955 as I watched.

Good citizens form a festival committee, and they plan all year long. They organize the parade, planning the route, staging, arranging to close off part of Main Street, judging the entries, and having an announcer who describes by loudspeaker all the entries as they pass the judging stand. That part hasn’t changed much.  Nowadays they probably invite food venders who already know how to coordinate with the health inspector. In the old days in my hometown, they would have a committee plan out the food tent, cook, and serve hamburgers and hotdogs. There weren’t any inspectors, just home style cookin’. Today, they decide which vendors might be appropriate. I don’t remember outside vendors in the old days. Everything was of local origin and all the profit went to pay for the festival. Today, they make sure the ambulance service can schedule some first responders to standby at a first aid tent. We didn’t do that back in the day because Doc Bryan, the town doctor, was in the parade. Today, they still have to plan the entertainment. Someone might suggest a musician who will perform for free just to get some publicity and maybe collect some tips. Back in the day, my hometown festival used local talent. Sometimes the word talent fell short but never mind that, it was our talent. Can the festivals of today have a competition or two, like maybe a sack race or a ring toss contest? Does anybody know someone who does face painting? What if they really go retro with a greased pig contest? Would kids stop with selfies long enough to chase a pig? What would a kid do with a pig if they caught it? Would the city attorney nix it because of liability?  Do they have a city attorney? Would someone complain of animal cruelty? Maybe greasing a pig isn’t such a good idea. Of course, the committee still has to get the publicity out, but in 1955 no one had ever heard of “social media”. There’s a lot to think about and all the planning is a lot of work. It’s well worth it and I say kudos to those who pull it off.

I can personally report my observations of the food service committee from back in the day. They got together each year to plan out their Homecoming responsibilities. They claimed that they needed to decide how many “barrels of pepper” to purchase so they called that planning event the “Pepper Party”. Those two words were never spoken amongst that group without a hearty laugh at their inside joke. A roll call was never taken. It was always the same group of people, which included my parents. The business responsibilities were completed in less than five minutes. They knew all the details before the meeting started. It was settled that they would buy two shakers of pepper, two of salt, a couple packages of napkins, a jar or two of dill pickles, and so on. More than once, the Pepper Party was held at our house and always took place at the kitchen table. A lot of beer flowed for the men and the ladies sipped Mogan David wine. A more sophisticated drink never crossed their minds. Us kids would play in another room and if we were relatively good, which mostly meant we didn't break anything, no one got hurt, and we stayed out of the kitchen, we might get a sip of wine. It was dreadful stuff! During the weekend before the big day of the Homecoming festival, the men constructed a wood frame and covered it with a large tarpaulin on the edge of the city park. The food was prepared, cooked, sold, and served from that tent. Pop was served in bottles that required an opener and there was only one flavor of potato chips. Does that bring back any memories? Obviously, it does for me. Regardless of the threat to my cholesterol level, I have never attended my Homecoming festival without getting a burger or dog from whatever has replaced that old tarp tent.

I must say that my memories of a certain small-town parade are some of my best. I hope to see another parade next September if they have it. I’ll try to get there early so I can park my lawn chair in the shade of the old, abandoned lumberyard building right across from the city park. I hope there’s a clown in the parade, some old antique tractors, maybe a classic car or two, and some little kid pulling a wagon with a puppy. I’m looking forward to that. Yes, the best part is the parade.

Ask Not for Whom the Turkey Vultures Flock

 

by Pa Rock

Farmer in Free Fall

Autumn officially arrived in the Ozarks two weeks ago, but in real life summer held on through all of September and the first few days into October.   Then the rains came, and now it truly does feel like fall is afoot.  Potted mums, scarecrows, skeletons, and jack-o-lanterns are popping up faster than the leaves are falling from the trees, and nature is crawling toward hibernation.  (I have seen turtles on the local roadways twice this week, and also passed an armadillo that had been run over yesterday.  They all are - and were - getting ready to dig in for the winter.)

It rained heavy on Wednesday with some of my neighbors reporting up to four inches in the rain gauges.  The rain brought the serious change in the weather.  This morning as I went outside to feed the neighbor's cat, the temperature was 39 degrees F.  As soon as it dips down to that magic 32 degrees F., all of the potted outdoor flowers will die, and I will quickly replace them on their hanging posts with the winter bird feeders.  Life cycles onward,

I fell Wednesday during the rain.   I was coming out of cardiac rehab and had just cautioned a classmate to be careful as we were exiting, and then I demonstrated to her what could happen if you are not careful.  I managed to get in several awkward dance moves from the sixties as I headed for the ground, then landed hard - ass over elbows - in the mud.  Then I had to crawl to a nearby sign that was rooted in the ground in order to pull myself up - and all the while it was raining.  Not my finest moment.  

I fall a lot.  I am probably destined to spend my final days in a full-body cast lying in a hospital bed in some smelly nursing home with a fly that I can't reach sitting on my nose.  My sister days I should get a cane, but I don't plan my falls so the odds that I would have a cane with me when I actually needed it would be slim.  It would be easier to carry a whistle - or a gun - to summon help after I fall.

I live in a rural area, and my large yard has many, many trees of various sizes and descriptions.  Sticks and branches are always falling from the trees, and a regular chore of mine is to drag all of that brush to various brush piles that I have around the farm.  Occasionally a big branch or limb will fall from the trees, making a racket as it heads toward the ground where it will land with a resounding thump.  Usually the big ones fall overnight, especially during storms, but sometimes one will crash to the earth while I happen to be outside. 

Late yesterday evening my son and I were standing on the back porch talking when we suddenly heard a loud commotion in a nearby tall tree.  My first thought was that a large branch had torn loose and was crashing toward earth.  We looked skyward at the same time and were amazed to see a large flock of turkey vultures (at least four and twenty) flapping their way out of the high tree branches.  That was unusual for a couple of reasons.  Turkey vultures (often called turkey buzzards) are normally seen sitting along the sides of roadways dining on dead animals - and usually the birds are in small groups of two or three.  Last night's gathering contained at least a couple of dozen, and there were no obvious signs of any dead animals nearby - and certainly nothing big enough to draw that many of the carrion feeders.

The big birds circled around in the windy sky for a few minutes and then returned to the tree that they had just vacated.

After carefully studying the situation, I determined that I was the oldest and biggest creature around, so I wisely turned and went back inside of the house.  I like to feed the birds, but there are limits to my generosity!