On Growing Old(er).

(NOTE:  I usually write my postings of a length approximating a normal visit to the bathroom. Perfect bathroom reading is my goal for this unassuming little blog.  This one?  Let's just pretend you're constipated.) 

There comes a time when everyone realizes that there's more of their life in the rearview mirror than out the front windshield.

When you're young, or even young-ish, out to maybe 50 years old, you never consider your own mortality.  You believe you're immortal.  You think you can do the dummmest s*it and get away with it.  Nothing will bring you down.  You'll pull muscles doing stuff you shouldn't be doing (right Andy?), without a second thought.  Nothing will hamper your continued path to greatness.  Or even average-ness.  Because you're impervious.  You think, "out of sight, out of mind."  Like Scarlet from "Gone With the Wind," "Not gonna' think about that today.  I might think about it tomorrow, but not today."

And then one day you realize you're old.  You can no longer run as fast, or jump as high, or drive as well, or see as far or as clearly.  You no longer think in terms of what you're going to do when your grow up.  Because you're already grown up.  

You're like, waaay past grown up!  

And then you start accumulating ailments.  Your back begins to hurt when you exert yourself.  Your prostate takes charge of your pee breaks.  Your eyesight goes from 20-20 to 20-50.  Your hairline begins to recede, and then your hair falls out.  You develop a paunch.  You need a larger pair of pants.  You know, the ones with the stretchy belt.  You can spell neuropathy.  You actually watch intently those ads for ED medicines.  You can no longer clip your own toenails.  In short, you're a mere shadow of your former self.  Your get up and go has got up and went.  Your high school track and football records are a dim memory.  And those high school friends have begun to die like flies.  And you're wondering if you're possibly next.

When you shave you choose not to see your entire face.  Just the small area you're shaving.  Sort of like not wishing to be a witness to the results of time and gravity.  That's why you're shocked when you see a picture or video of yourself.  "That isn't me, is it?"  

Yes, yes it is...

I passed that milestone some years ago.  And I met it with grace.  In fact, I'm wondering why we're not all provided with one of those purple stamps on a buttcheek with a, "Use By _____."  Like a side of beef in an abbatoir.  (That's "slauterhouse" for those who don't read dictionaries like crime novels.)  I used to worry about it.  Now I just laugh about it.  Because it's truly funny if you come to know you're as deflated as an 8-day old happy birthday balloon.

I played pool professionally.  I was at one time ranked among America's top 50 by "Pool and Billards Magazine."  I toured with Minnesota Fats during the summer of 1963.  I won both the Iowa and the Nebraska State Billiards Championship.  In short, I did very little else besides play pool.  All day, every day.  When I really should have been attending class and actually studying, BTW.  My father and I co-owned "Cass's Cue Club," a truly fine billiards establishment.  And that's when I got that invitation from Uncle Sam to join the United States Army.  I mean, I couldn't say no to my Country, right?

I happen to be a car guy.  I owned a 409 while the Beach Boys song was on the charts.  And a '66 427 Corvette that should have been declared illegal.  I used to race semi-professionally.  I had begun to realize that my decades-long quest to own every car I deemed collectible was a fools errand.  I realized that my desire to have the biggest house in the neighborhood didn't make me special.  It just made me broke.  

I've owned 127 of those cars in my storied lifetime.  I owned 5 of them at the same time while I was in the Army overseas.  And trust me, that wasn't easy to do!  I shipped two of them home from Germany, a Porsche and a VW.  I owned 11 of them at one time just a couple of decades ago.  Including my coveted 1968 Mercedes 300 SEL.  The fastest 4-door sedan ever made.  Even though I had a 4-car garage and a 4-car driveway, somehow managing to find a parking space out front for the other 3 always presented a problem.  And the neighbors were always pissed.  I didn't give a sh*t back then.  Now?  Please forgive me, neighbors.  I was a dolt.

I wanted to accumulate.  To own.  To collect.  Not stamps, cars.  I think I actually believed that old saying, "He who dies with the most toys, wins!"  My sainted wife/business partner and I ate out every night for 40 years.  I didn't subscribe to one magazine.  I subscribed to 22.  I always extended my finances to own more clothes, more shoes, more cars, more watches, more jewelry, more lavish vacations, more, more, MORE of everything!

And then one day I realized I'd been an idiot.  You don't own all that crap, it owns you!  And you're always paranoid that someone might try and take it from you.  And when you die, it will be sold off or given to somebody else.  Or maybe just chucked into the trash can and carried off to the dump.

Owning 11 cars at one time means you have to pay for the insurance and registrations on vehicles you almost never drive.  Or enjoy.  Because you can only drive one at a time.  That Pride of Ownership thing begins to lose its luster.  You have to wash them.  And maintain them.  It's a never-ending expense.  And a problem you're plagued with. 

My wife and I bought a '53 Rolls Royce.  For giggles.  It was major cool.  It was gold over cream.  WITH a bud vase!  She used to drive it to Albertsons for groceries.  In her cut-offs while wearing a t-shirt and bandana.  Blowing everyones' minds in the process.  

And having 5,000 square feet of house, with 6 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms, and a yuuuge pool, means you have to pay a gigondo light bill.  And gas bill.  And insurance bill.  And property tax bill.  When you should be packing those $Dollars away for your impending retirement.  Which you don't really believe will ever come because you don't think you're old.  It won't happen to me!

Not to Me!

I had 88 pairs of shoes at one time.  I owned 213 Hawaiian shirts.  Why?  Because I could.  Maybe I wasn't hugged enough as a child.  Yeah, that could be it!

Then I woke up one day with one of those head- slapping realizations.  I was over-lifed.  Too much of a good thing!  I began to divest.  To sell all but the cars I could drive on a daily basis.  I sold the mini-mansion and bought a much smaller house.  I offloaded all the shoes and the shirts and the clothes.  The Salvation Army folks loved me.  I even sold most of my expensive watches and jewelry.  I simplified my life.  And began to prepare for the time when I'd be saying Au Revoir to this plane of existence and welcoming the next.  I should have done it 10 years sooner.  Or 20.  But later is okay also, so long as you don't die owning a bunch of stuff you didn't need (how about that present and past tense in the same sentence?)  Burdening your heirs with having to divest it.  Do it so they won't have to.  

Jimmy Buffet, whose shirts I owned by the dozen, died recently.  Even though he just played a guitar and went barefoot, he passed on with an estate valued at more than $500 Million Dollars.  That's a lot o' coconuts!  

But he still died.  

Frank Sinatra's Palm Springs getaway pad just went on the market for $8.5 Million.  But it's still for sale.  He didn't own it.  He couldn't - didn't - take it with him.  His money enabled him to only use it until he croaked.  Because he made a sh*tload of money, he could afford it.  But should he have afforded it?  And then it's now being passed along to somebody else.  And after them, there will be another.  And then another.  That's called life.  

Or death.

Think of it this way:  If you own stuff there will always be those who who'll want to take it from you.  So you're always paranoid.  And anxious.  On the alert like a cornered, would-be target.  And if you're rich and famous, there will be those who'll want to take those riches away and sully your fame.  To bring you down to their level.  Including your own Gubmint.  They're maybe the very worst!  Revel in your anonymity, Fellow Patriots.  Once you lose it, you'll never get it back.  And you're always on guard.  Learn to love walking down the street and not being recognized.  Not having paparazzi chase you is a blessing.

I had a scare recently.  I was diagnosed with Metastatic Small Cell Carcinoma of the lungs.  Sort of the worst kind you can have.  The most invasive and fastest growing.  When I got the diagnosis I Googled it.  It said I had 1 to 3 months to live.  I shut the computer down hard and tried to forget what I'd just read.  

I underwent a full course of chemotherapy treatment, which is just about the worst thing they can do to you.  They try to kill you by pumping your veins full of poison.  You get so sick you're afraid you won't die.  Then you get sort of well-ish for a week and then they do it to you all over again.  For 4 full rounds in my case. Thank God I'm now in remission.  I still have to have immunotherapy infusions forever, my oncologist tells me, but I dodged the bullet.  Since my oncologist is in her '40's, I'm guessing her "forever" and my "forever," are quite different "forevers."    

But at least I proved Google wrong.

Even though that ailment might not kill me, something else will.  For sure.  I'm like the proverbial '87 Honda Civic with 234,000 miles on the clock.  It still runs, but it has a leaky main seal and drips oil on the driveway.  The brakes are bad, and so are the tires.  There's this strange noise coming from the rear end.  The shocks are shot and need replacing.  And the transmission slips.  But it still runs.  

That's me.

I'm not long for this world.  I could get run over by a truck tomorrow.  Or today.  And you could too.  At your age, our age, at any age.  I'm cruising around the Clubhouse Turn and I can see the flags flying at the finish line.  You'll be there too one day.  In the meantime, here are some thoughts On Growing Old.

     - I'd advise everyone to simplify.  To buy only what they need and sell everything they don't.  In fact, I've now embraced the philosophy that if you haven't worn it, or used it, or driven it in the past six months, you should give it away, sell it, or discard it. 

     -  I'd advise you to eat less, exercise more, get plenty of sleep and learn that money cannot buy happiness.  No matter how much of it you have.  

(BTW, since fat is just energy, and we're told energy cannot be destroyed, I wonder where all that GLP-1 weightloss fat went?  Did the emaciated Chinese gain it?)

     -  Don't take life too seriously.  You'll never get out of it alive.

     -  Take care of your car and it will take of you.  It's  the second biggest purchase you'll likely ever make, so keep your car clean and well maintained.  And don't buy a new one, ever.  Buy one somebody else has turned in from a lease.  For 50% less than sticker price.  The average new car price is now $51,150.  With an $800 monthly car payment.  Ghaaahh!  Let someone else take the hit.    

     -  You're not special.  Your breath stinks and your feet smell, I don't care who you are.  And so does everyone else's.  You're imperfect.  We're all imperfect.  No matter how much money you make or how famous you become.  You were designed that way.  Some of us get lucky and live a more public life.  Or unlucky, perhaps.  We don't live in a fishbowl, you and I.  They do.  And their kids are a study in how not to raise children.  Plus, think about the fact that you'll likely never need a psychiatrist!

      -  If you have kids advise them to join the Army.  Or the Navy.  Or another of our military forces as soon as they get their H. S. certificate.  They'll grow them up macht schnell!  Making men and women out of your tall children.  And preparing them to live their lives in today's America.  You'll send off kids and welcome back grown men and women.  And then the military will pay for their education.  So you and your loved ones don't have to.  Taking a big load off your shoulders.  There's really nothing to even think about here.  Trust me.  

     -  Never upsize if you have a choice, and downsize when and where you can.  For the sake of living a simpler and longer and happier life, with a lot less stress.  My first house was small, only 1,148 sq. ft.  I felt bad about that at the time, and worked hard so I could buy a bigger one.  Always clawing upward.  Now?  I could easily go back to that simple home and be happy as a clam.  

     -  You'll never fail if you never take a chance.  Take those chances.  Only by so doing will you learn and improve.  Otherwise you'll always be delivering somebody else's mail, or ringing them up as a cashier at Wal-Mart, or selling popcorn at the local Bijou.  Stretch your talents and abilities to the extreme.  And learn to win more by losing less.  

     -  61% of us work by the hour.  Clocking in every day.  Including every cop and fireman out there.  They can become captives of their own secure, cushy lives. Golden Handcuffs, they call it.  Paid so much they cannot quit.  While 16.1% of us work for ourselves as entrepreneurs.  Selling hot dogs or running a 5-Star company.  Dancing to the tune of our own drummer.  Taking full charge of our own lives.  Wouldn't you really rather be an entrepreneur?  You can start today.    

     -  Spend your remaining time with those you love.  Doing only what you love.  And use the money you've saved living frugally for travel, and nice dining, and reading books.  And lazing by a quiet stream.  And taking long walks in the woods.  Or shooting pool with the boys once you retire.  Wal-Mart needs greeters.  But it doesn't have to be you.  You'll thank me...

I'll be visiting the Celestial DMV one of these days real soon.  If fact, I'm looking forward to it.  You can only dread something for so long.  Then you swallow a big gulp of reality and grow a pair.   Deciding to just go with whatever the rest of your life hands you.  You check in, give them your information, and are told to take a seat and wait 'til see your name up there on the TV screen.  I'm waiting... 

But doing so only after having performed what I call "pre-need" distribution of my remaining excess possessions to those who I think should have them.  Instead of just waiting for them to fight over my stuff after I go, why not give the stuff to them yourself?  Right now??   You don't need it, and they do.  Make sense?  I gave my grandson Jackson my coveted '57 Chevy car model the other day.  I'd owned it for more than 60 years.  His eyes shined brightly.  I beemed as broadly as he did.

We sure do waste a lot of time, effort and energy doing all the wrong stuff while we're alive, now don't we?  I've stated many times I believe that life is a Final Exam.  But we won't know whether or not we've passed until we die.  Hopefully some of us find out what's important while we're still alive and there's time to do something about it.     

I did.  I hope you will as well!

(P.S.  Thanks for being an address on my distribution list.  I vent, you can read it or not.  Either way, that's okay.  I just have a need to puke forth my thoughts using a keyboard.  It gives me an outlet.  And perhaps you another way to look at things.)  

California's Death Knell...

California is dying.  The "Golden State" has developed a distinct tarnish.  After 100 years of people stepping over each other to move here, more are now leaving that are arriving.  In fact, more than 1,700,000 high earners have moved to greener pastures over the past 5 years.

And, for the reasons listed here, almost any state is greener.

When I moved here, CA was a Right-leaning state.  Now?  We had several two-term Republican governors in a row.  Ronnie Reagan, Pete Wilson, George Deukmajian, and Ahhhnold Swartzenwhositsts, to name just the most recent.  And then the Democrat Machine showed up and has plagued us with one-Party Democrat rule for the past 16 years.  

There are 58 counties in California.  56 are run by Democrats.  Both its Senate and its Assembly are Supermajority Democrat.  More than two-thirds Democrat.  Meaning they can conjure up and pass any dummmass piece of legislation they desire.  And they have.  They don't need a single Republican vote.

(Maybe the best job in the State is a Republican legislator.  You get paid and don't have to even show up.)

The breakdown between the Parties is 61% Democrat and 39% Republican.  Yet, the most recent realignment pre-census took away representation for Republicans to all but those 2 counties.  Our BoyGuv ("Hairgod") Newsom spent $250 Million of our tax money to pay for that election.

The result is now the State is somewhere between 50 and 70 $Billion Dollars upside down.  

The tippy-top 1% of its citizens paying 51% of its income taxes for the past several years.  And even so, enough signatures have been gathered to rape its 200 Billionaires of 5% of their net wealth.  Not income, no.  Their savings, and art, and cars, and homes, and stock.  That's why a huge number of its Billionaires have run for the exits.  Representing some $700 Billion of their $2 Trillion Dollar wealth.  Sirgey Brin, one of Googles co-founders, just bought a $276 Million Dollar home in Florida.  Zuckerberg just moved to Las Vegas.  Too many of the rich to name here.  Just trust me, the goose that laid the golden egg has been shot and killed.  And they're picking its bones clean.

CA can no longer assume its wealthy will pay the freight.  And when they don't, they'll be coming after its $Millionaires.  And then $Thousandaires.  You.

On top of that, more than 440 Major Corporations have left.  Gone.  Headed for the exits.  Moved to Florida.  Or Texas.  Or Tennessee.  Or anywhere but here.  Meaning those who stay will have to find something besides CA's mild weather as an inducement to remain.

Here's a partial list of those who've said bye-bye.  And where known, their new home.  Read it and weep...    

     -  McAfee  (TX)  (No income taxes)

     -  Yamaha  (TX)

     -  Toyota  (TX)  (Been here for 70 years)

     -  Chevron (TX)  (Been here for 120 years.

     -  Oracle (TX)

     -  Digital Realty

     -  Hewlett-Packard  (Started in a garage in Santa Rosa)

     -  Charles Schwabb  

     -  In - N - Out  (TN)  (No income taxes)  (We've lost our burgers)

     -  Budweiser (And our beer) 

     -  Latrino Foods

     -  Playboy  (Playboy?  Really?)

     -  McKesson

     -  CBRE

     -  Shiftpixie

     -  Conginigy

     -  John Paul Systems

     -  Palantir (CO)

     -  Space X  (TX)     

     -  Tesla

     -  Neutrogena

     -  Realtor.com

     -  Caremark Holdings

     -  FICO

     -  Public Storage (TX)

     -  Landsea Homes (TX)

     -  Kimberly Clark

     -  Phillips 66 (TX)

     -  Ninja One

     -  Valero (LA)  (No income taxes.) (Largest oil refiner in America.  Paid over $1 Billion in cash to vacate CA.  Leaving CA with only 8.  That's why your gas costs $6.00 a gallon)

     -  Green Dot

     -  Astura Medical

     -  Incora

     -  KVP International

     -  Maddux Defense

     -  Pabst Brewing

     -  Saleen Performance Parts

     -  Smart Action

     -  Smart Draw Software

     -  99 Cents Only Stores

     -  Container Stores

     -  Macy's

     -  Forever 21

     -  And finally, "X," (TX) (Formerly known as Twitter)

NOTE:  More than 1,400 retail stores have closed or moved in the past 5 years.

NOTE:  More than 4% of CA's corporations have moved out of state and taken thousands of jobs with them.  Many more in the planning stages.

People, and companies, vote with their feet.  They'll move to states where the cost of living, and the cost of doing business, is lower.  Often much lower.  And these companies have voted.  To move to states where there's no income taxes, and low sales taxes, and lower property taxes, and much cheaper homes for their employees to own.  The average 4 bed, 3 bath home in Texas is $356,000.  And a much lower burden of rules and regulations and fees and costs of operation for these corporations.

CA has even begun to try and extract exit fees from those who've left.  Often auditing companies and individuals to try and collect extra cash out of those who've already left.  Often as far back as 5 years.  Trying to punish folks for leaving.  (Suggestion: If you're going, keep meticulous records of your departure date, earnings and expenses.  They'll do anything to lessen their budget shortfall.  They're coming after YOU!

California has the highest cost of living in the Nation.  The highest income taxes.  The highest home costs.  The highest gasoline prices.  And with the highest gas taxes.  The most indigent homeless on the streets (40% of the Nation's homeless).  And the highest sales taxes.  And BoyGuv will undoubtedly run for President.  Hoping to do to our Nation what he's done to California.  

Be afraid America.  Be very afraid.   

What's that sound you hear?  It's the roll-up doors of U-Haul trucks slamming shut, as they prepare to head east on the I-10...  

 

"Colored" People?

 Can you tell me the difference between "People of color" and "Colored people?"

I know!  One phrase has three words in it, the other has only two.

Just kidding.  Actually, there isn't any.  The latter is just watered down "fakespeak" used by those who try and state the obvious without offending the overly sensitive.  Or become confrontational.  Sort of like the way we're expected to call men who pretend to be women, women.

It's sorta' like "People of Journalism," as opposed to "Journalists."  That "of" really doesn't belong as a modifier at all.  Just forget it and go back to calling a spade a spade.

Oh wait!  Can we still say that?

Think about it:  We're all colored.  Black people aren't Black.  White people aren't White.  Red people aren't Red.  And Yellow people aren't yellow.  They're each a lighter shade of those colors.  Like me.  I'm sort of a pinkish.  In summer I can turn a nice deep tan if I desire.  But not White.  

Never White.  You only turn White when you die.

You should know that when I was a kid, back during the Stone Age, Blacks were offended if you called them "Black."  They wished to be call "Negroes."  It was surely better than that other word they were often called, so I assume they picked the least offensive title possible.  Like Italians were called "WOP's.  And the Irish, like me, were called "Micks."  And the Chinese were called "Chinks."  There was no real offense intended.  It was just a colorful convenience adopted to expedite conversation.  By the less well educated among us.  And then sometime later, somebody, perhaps Black folks, decided that they should be called "Black."  Don't ask me.  I wasn't in the room...

(BTW "WOP's" was short for "Without Papers."  When Italians got off the boat in New York City, with no identifying paperwork, they were forced to display a sign on their shirts so signifying.  Thought you'd like to know.)

My best friend while I was in the Army was a Black guy from Detroit.  His name was Walter.  He laughed everytime he called me "Chuck."  For that was Black slang at the time for White guys.  I think I was personally responsible for stopping its usage.  

Why is there an entire month for gay people when there's only one day for two of our very best presidents?  Isn't that sort of like "People of color?"  Throwing a bone to the "others?"  For their votes, perhaps?  Helping to normalize those who embrace a different lifestyle that heretofore has not be recommended or accepted?  How about we have a White Peoples Appreciation Month?  No?  Tell me why not!  If it's good for the goose, it's good for the gander.  Not wishing to dishonor geese, mind you.  Just sayin.'

Why is there a National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, instead of the "NAAOPofC?"  In fact, why is "Colored" still in the NAACP's name, when it's not politically correct to call a Colored person Colored?  Shouldn't they take that out?  And then change it to NAAOBP?

Better yet, why not just do away with the entire organization?

And why is there a Congressional Black Caucus on Capitol Hill?  Is there a Congressional White Caucus?  No.  Because there's no need.  They're all Congressweenies.  I personanlly wouldn't wish to be seen with any of them.  I'd rather take the next 525 people who walk into the Mall of America to replace them.  

And why is there a Black Entertainment Channel?  Isn't there some billionaire somewhere who'll start the White Entertainment Channel?  If for no other reason than to make those who live to so segregate America cringe?

In fact, almost any professional society in the U. S. of A. has a Black subset.  The "Black Undertakers of America."  The "Black Journalists of America."  The "Black Rodeo Cowboys of America."  Seems to me they intentionally segregate themselves from the rest of us.  Wouldn't you think they'd wish to assimilate?  

And think about the fact that we used to award Black folks extra points on their college entrance exams and their Gubmint job applications.  It was that way back during the LBJ years.  To make up for the mistreatment their forebears suffered 400 years ago, I presume.  Not kidding.  We really did.  5 extra points could put you in the driver's seat of a postal worker's Jeep, and a lifetime career, leaving the equally qualified poor White guy jobless on the side of the road.  Was that fair?  Shouldn't those po' White folks now get reparations?

And remember when "Roots" was on TV waaaay back when?  We were all, especially us White folks, supposed to watch all 7 nights of it.  Just to make us feel guilty.  Because Black people were enslaved centuries ago, I'm guessing.  Long before you and I were born.  Making it ancient history, unless there were those who wished the memory to remain divisive.  The "Black Preachers of America," especially.  To keep the wound open and festering, me thinks.  Imagine how that must have made our Black friends feel back then?  Like second class citizens, I'm guessing.  Wishing it would finally be forgotten so they could blend in and lead normal lives as just plain old "Americans."    

And now there's several Big Blue Cities that are planning to grant reparations to Blacks.  My favorite is California, which never fails to screw stuff up.  Several CA cities are planning to shovel money to Black folks, even though we were never a slave state.  In fact, CA entered the Union in 1850.  There were no slaves here, and no slave owners, either.  But the Social Justice Warriors among us think it's A-Okay to use our tax money, yours and mine, to pander to Blacks.  

For their votes, no doubt.  

All you have to do here in CA is to "identify" as something, they tell us, and then you're that something.  The Department of Health and Human Services tells us that only 3% of our population actually suffers from "Gender Dysphoria."  But twice as many actually portray themselves that way.  So I identify as Black, and also gay.  And transgender, too.  And I also further identify as a White Heterosexual Male on top of those other designators.  So when the money starts flowing I'll be first in line.  I also identify as a mezzo soprano astronaut archeoastronomer and rodeo clown.  Just in case any of those identities get some free loot sometime in the future.

Biden picked Kamala as his V.P. because she was Black(ish)* and a woman.  He actually said that foolishness out loud, in front of God and everybody.  Proving himself to be a dimbulb.  In fact, she was the only Democrat in shouting distance who was both Black(ish) and a female.  Seems to me that choice was both distasteful and idiotic.  The fact that she's both inept and dumb as a bag of rocks was shown in Technicolor on the national stage for everyone to see.  Proving that identity politics has gone waaay to far.  

Are there racists?  Sure.  There are also those who dislike Midgets.  And pickpockets.  And those stutter.  But advertising our differences continues to feed their failings.  We are a melting pot.  Or should be.  Perhaps it's time we actually became so.   

So "color" me one who believes we should reward those who've proven themselves worthy of advancement with our votes and our donations (duh!).  Not bcause of their gender.  Or their race.  Or their number of tatoos.  Or whether they can juggle.  Or how badly they can butcher a sentence, like Mzzz. Kamala.  Will we do that?  I think Conservatives already do.  The Democrats?

No way, Jose....

*  Mzzz. Kamala's mom is an Indian.  Red dot, not "woo woo."  And her dad is from the Dominican Republic.  A Caribbean Islander.  Whose forebears more than likely owned slaves.  Nowhere near Black.  Not even a Dark Brown.  Nowhere near Africa, for either of them.  Just setting the record straight...

Parenthood? Really?

One could reasonably say that choosing to have children is akin to playing Russian roulette with all six cylinders loaded.

Yes, Fellow Patriots, with the possible exception of bank robbery, or kidnapping, or injecting yourself with some fentanyl you bought in an alley, having children is the single most dangerous thing you can possibly do to yourself.

Dangerous!  And risky!  Why should anyone take the chance that their kid will turn out okay when they could just as likely become an axe murderer!  

In fact, I've said that an operator's manual should follow the baby out the birth canal.  Like all those 3-ring binders Microsoft used to provide when you bought a new computer.  A whole box of them.  10 pounds of them.  Long before there was a thing called an "App."

Something that tells you, as a newborn's parent, what you should do next.  For trust me, you won't know.  You'll be struck with fear!  You'll be terrified!  Funny, all of us know by rote how to make that baby.  And enjoy doing it, thank you very much.  But none of us know what to do with the proceeds of that act once it shows up nine months later.  

If it's your first, you'll be making it up as it comes along.  Hoping not to break it.  Praying that the decisions you make are the right ones.  With no expectations that they'll be right at all.  You're beset with doubt.  The kind of viseral fear that makes you sweat.  

And pray!

But somehow, some way, most kids turn out okay.  Because most parents tend to do the right things.  By accident more than concious decision making.  When they cry you'll figure out they're hungry.  Or that their Pampers are full.  Trust me, they are self-contained bombs just waiting to go off.  Just waiting to force the police to show up on your porch.  And they can't tell you what they want, either.  Because their little brains aren't fully baked.  And they won't be for several years to come.  During which you'll have a whole lot of time and opportunity to mess up.   

The "good news," if there's any to be had, is that you usually have a Partner in Terror.  A wife or girlfriend or husband or significant other, who helped you get in this mess some nine months ago.  Somebody to talk with to try and deduce why the little bugger is screaming.

And then they grow a little.  They start to walk.  Which, you as parents, try and force into reality.  You'll want it.  You'll invite it.  You keep looking at your kid, sitting on the kitchen floor, and give him or her that "Come on, you can do it!" instruction.  And then one day he/she does.  And your life as you knew it is over.  Never to return again.  You invited in trouble, and now it showed up.  Like opening up a ouiji board and asking for the Devil to appear.  

Then little Johnnie or Suzie starts to open cabinet doors.  Or pick up foot-long steak knives.  Or try and drink battery acid.  

Your life then becomes a never-ending series of "run here, run there," taking instruments of death out of their grubby mitts.  Trying desperately to keep them from falling down the stairs and killing themselves.  And driving you stark raving nuts in the process.  

I'm using myself as an example.  I was a holy terror.  My older brother was even worse.  He was a certified nighmare.  Causing nothing but trouble for himself and our entire family.  Making what I did mild by comparison.  Enabling me to break almost every rule and law available.  But nobody noticed, because my brother drew all the attention.  

I was not complaining.  It was a blissful youth.  

Perhaps you're beyond the baby days.  If so, and if you didn't murder the little heathen, congratulate yourselves.  You won the parenthood lottery.  You managed to procreate and not be sent to prison for doing so.  You managed to do what nature put you here to do (read Genesis), and not be sued for doing so.  Or jailed.  You escaped the danger of those "birds and bees" days.  My sainted wife and I did as well.  We had a whole flock of them.  And all turned out fantastic!  Not a single problem amongst them.  And I thank the Good Lord it all worked out.  But I will admit it was more luck than intellect and good planning.

If you did all the stuff right, then you just might be rewarded with the joys of parenthood.  Our absolute reason for being here.  Those wonderful days of watching little Johnnie hit a triple in Little League.  Or little Suzie dazzling the audience with her first piano recital.  You did it.  You now can sit back and reap the rewards of parenthood.  And they are manifold.  They will follow you all the rest of your life.  And perhaps even care for you when you get older.  And those who refused to share their lives with a son or daughter will never know what they missed.

I think the only bit of advice I could offer up at this point is to hope your babies came from a family with both a mother and a father.  And that your partner chose to join you in the journey.  

My supposition is that those choosing not to have kids either haven't found the right partner to join them, or are too selfish to share their lives, and money, with offspring.  I've read that a baby can cost as much as $One Million Dollars to raise these days.  Trust me, that 930 Turbo Carrera Porsche I lusted after would have been mine if I hadn't decided that the significant expense of of having kids wasn't worth more.  

Much more.  

Right now some 40% of births occur to unmarried mothers.  And then the mother, most generally, has to work to pay the bills.  Leaving little latch-key kids to fend for themselves.  That's up from 0.7% of unmarried births in the year I was born.  Times have changed.  Making babies is easy.  Raising them is both expensive and hard.  And with fathers who choose to no longer partipate.

And trust me, kids left to themselves will figure out how to set fire to the house, or rob the 7/11 on the corner, or take the keys to the family car and lead the cops on a high speed chase.  Leaving you to post bond and try and get them out of jail.  Assuming you make the mistake of actually doing so.  I recommend against it, BTW.  Just pretend they belong to somebody else.  Just try and go back to doing what you were doing when they first came around.  And be sure to let them know that is your intention.  That doing so will be your choice should they decide not to walk the straight and narrow.  That they have One Chance to do it right.  So don't screw up.

You'll thank me for my advice... 

Just Pretend You Didn't Read This...

I told you in my last posting that there are a few things in life which royally piss me off.  Like paying to park a car.  That's just rude.  And here's another one...

I've always wondered why it seems nearly everybody charged with a crime winds up pleading it down to a lesser charge.  On TV mainly.  Not too many crimes pled down here at Fortress Chuckmeister.

It seems they get probation instead of incarceration, and with a smaller crime to boot.  Or drop a few charges off the booking to give the perp a reason to play along.  To plead "guilty," step outside the booking program, and let the court system do its thing.

So, having enough available time to research the myriad  things which piss me off these days, I decided to research this one.  And Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, I was right.  The System sucks.  I shouldn't have investigated it.  And here are the statistics...

California has 366,000 laws on its books.  All sorts of laws.  Laws which can and do take your freedom and/or your money.  But the primary thing the System can take is your FREEDOM.

That may not mean anything to you until you learn that the Federal Gubmint, yours and mine, has only 300,000 or so laws on its books!  For 51 states.  And New York comes in at Number Two with 264,000 laws.  Illinois is Third with 179,000.  So you know now what you always suspected; Taxifornia's in the business of ruining your life if it wants to, with crimes you never even heard of.  So just throw up your hands, give it your money, and consider taking the U-Haul Exit.  Like more than 1,000,000 of your friends and neighbors have done over the past few years. 

As the famous prosecuting attorney once said, "You show me the man, and I'll show you the crime."

And it took me over two hours of digging to learn how many laws the Feds have.  Because the Gubmint doesn't make it easy.  They don't give out that statistic.  I had to visit every one of the Gubmint's Cabinet secretaries' websites and total them up.  Plus all the other 45 agencies, regulatory bodies and departments.  

Our police here in Taxifornia can arrest you for any or all of its multitudinous laws, except I think we're safe from that.  Because our police and sherriffs' duputies don't know anything about them either.  The 6 months of Cop School only teaches them about the ones that rake in the dough.  DUI's, speeding, careless and reckless, and elicit drugs are the ones that bring in the bucks.  Not the other umpty-thousand laws.

But then the fun starts.  95% of all our arrests for felonies are pled down to a lesser charge!  Often to misdemeanors.  85% of all civil matters are as well.  And when they're arrested they're let out the back door within hours due to bail bonds being levied and posted.  "No cash" bonds, or even "Own Recognizance" bonds (O.R) will be used.  The perp is sprung before the arresting cops can even finish their booking report.

Which really pisses them off, BTW.

And yet, get this, 1 out of 8 of those bounced out catch another charge while out on bond.  Which may violate the bond or cause another higher one to be issued.  More money for the courts and more money for the bonding companies.  And fully 20% of them fail to appear at court for trial!  Which forces the court to issue bench warrants for their arrest.  That's why cops always ask for your I.D. when they confront you.  They're looking for bail jumpers so as to bring them in.

Want to know the average number of arrests before a perpetrator gets some Hard Time in the Big House?

                                     31!  

They say recidivism is rampant.  Wouldn't you think that punishing a criminal from the very first crime would serve as a meaningful deterrent?  I do!

Would you like to know how many accused murderers are out on bond here in balmy Taxifornia, but have failed to appear?  And now have a murder warrant hanging over their heads?  

                         2,900!

Now you know why so many people flee from the cops when the blue lights come on.  Who wants to get arrested for a murder charge?

Add that to the other 126,000 that have warrants on them due to failure to appear, and you have a yuuuge number of felons wandering our streets.  Many just looking for people upon which to prey.  The same streets you and your family frequent, perhaps.  I told you not to read this!

So why do the courts let hardened criminals out on bond if they know they're hardened criminals?  

  There's no place else to put them!  

And why don't more criminals opt for jury trials?  They could, and maybe should.  But court officials tell us it would bring our judicial system to its knees if they did!  Not enough judges, not enough court rooms, not enough prosecutors or enrolled defense attorneys, or even hours in the day.  So they let them out on bond instead, to prey on you and me.

There's that, and the fact that the plea bargain between the perp's lawyer and the D.A. provides an upper limit on years of incarceration, while a jury trial might carry with it two or three times the prison sentence the plea bargain offers.  

And why don't they build more courtrooms and jail cells?  Not enough money.  And our Democrat-controlled legislature here in the once-Golden State wouldn't appropriate it anyway.  Because Democrats think jails should be abolished.  They don't believe anyone should be incarcerated, and that all those in jail and prison right now should be released!  Our BoyGuv ("Hairgod") Newsom has already let out 92,000 hardened felons.  And he's closed 13 prisons during his tenure, at a time when we need more.  He's also put into motion a plan to shut down San Quentin, our oldest and largest prison, and turn it into a day care center for the newly-released prisoners.  Basketball courts and weight rooms and baseball diamonds and TV rooms, etc.  I'm sure they won't reoffend.  Rigggghhtt!  

Prison gives you free room and board, and free meals, and free TV, and free medical care.  Sounds better and better, now don't it?  Maybe old folks who are being starved out should do a faux bank robbery.  They'd be taken care for the rest of their lives.

And while we're on the subject of Newsom, he's signed some 125 anti-gun Executive Orders since taking office.  Including outlawing all Glock pistols, even though most of our police carry them.  More than 89,000 in cops' holsters right now.  His mantra is turning loose hardened felons and then making it tougher for us to defend ourselves against them.      

                          Gulp!  

We have 93,000 state jail cells here in Taxifornia.  And another 87,000 county and city jail cells, not to mention those under Indian Affairs, the Federal Gubmint, and Navy/Army lockups.  And there's 200,000 inmates +/- in all those prison cells at anyone time, they tell us.  They should have the room, but tell us they don't.  The math ain't mathin' to me... 

So somebody jacks your car or picks your pocket or sticks a gun in your ribs and gets arrested.  He's booked and charged, and then meets the judge for a probable cause hearing.  He's let loose because, "Hey, he's not such a bad guy!  Let's give him another chance."  And they do.  Over and over and over again.  Because Democrat judges, of which we an abundance here, are bleeding heart Libs.  They let him loose on bond.  With usually 10% o 15% of its face value.  Meaning, a $10,000 bond requires $1,000 - $1,500 up front.  And you never get it back, even if you show up for court.    

And since it's only a few weeks before the guy's or gal's hearing, that's some dammmmd high interest rate!  But if the guy's a bail jumper, the bail bondsman's on the hook for the entire bond amount.  He'll then send his bounty hunter thugs to find the perp and drag him in to court.  And they're not subject to the nicities of a cop or deputy.  They operate under the same rules of procedure that 1850's bounty hunters did.  They'll break down doors and beat the Bad Guy half to death if necessary.  They're not deterred by the Constitution's guarantees or Rights.  A word to the wise...

 

A bonding agency will take the upfront cash and usually a surety arrangement with the perps mom and dad on their house for the rest.  They're there to give out bonds, and they'll do so for the most rotten among us.  And they don't make bad deals or they wouldn't stay in bizz.  Bail bondsmen make tons of money, all due to our court System managing 10 times the number of criminals it's designed to serve.

And over and above all that are the charges for court fees (a few hundred bucks), the defense attorney (a few thousand bucks), a "no start" device attached to your car to prevent you from driving if you've been drinking ($hundreds a month), and the "SCRAM" device attached to your ankle to monitor alcohol intake (another few thousand), etc.  So the perp likely loses his job, if he had one, and now has no way to pay all the charges and assessments and fees for the court-demanded remedies.  A downward spiral.  Too bad, so sad.  His problem.

Fellow Patriots, here's a System that's designed to fail. But because everybody up and down makes money on it, except the arrestee, seemingly nobody cares.

Plus, nearly every arrestee winds up with a hundred or two hours of "community service" to punish him.  And most don't complete it all.  Which is a bond violation in and of itself.  Causing the perp to be dragged into court once again.  A few hundred hours could be half a year.  Can't get and keep a job if you're busy helping out at the soup kitchen, now can you?

So here's the Bottom Line:  More than 9 out of 10 of those arrested are promptly released on bond, many to offend again while on release.  With no real penalty for doing so because the same or a similar (and higher) bond will be issued several times.  With no real anticipation that it will help them change their lifestyle.  Which is the supposed goal.  Because being a criminal in America IS a lifestsyle!  They're crooks!  That's what they do for a living.  They factor in the risk of getting caught and doing the time before they do the crime.  There's nearly a million arrests here in CA every year, and nowhere to put them.  So our judicial system has come up with a unique turnstyle System to handle them.  In the front door and out the back.  Kacching!  Get used to it.

Finding out all this crap has given me a headache.  It's shattered my closely held beliefs and expectations as well.  I used to have faith in our legal System.  No longer.  I wish I hadn't done the research.  I wish I hadn't written all this stuff.  And I wish I hadn't published it, either.  I've got an idea.  I'll pretend I didn't write it, and you pretend you didn't read it.  Okay?

We'll both be farting through silk!   

  

The Protestant Reformation.

For most of the last 1,700 years, there have been only 3 primary religions.  Catholicism, Judaism and Islam. 

And then Protestantism became a thing.

Protestantism had yet to be born until 1519.  Until that fateful day when an (in)famous monk name Martin Luther hammered home a list of 95 bitches he had with the Catholic church.  He put them high up on the big wooden door of his Wittenburg, Germany monestary.  Apparently he'd got up on the wrong side of his wooden bed that morning and decided to send out an early type of email.  Without thinking it over a couple of times before actually pushing "publish."

He was explicit.  I mean, 95?  That's a lot of stuff to be mad about when you're a monk, doncha' think?  I'd think it would be more like 5.  Or maybe 15.  But 95?  And it pissed off the Pope.  Badly.  And Popes don't like folks who show their asses in public.  

So the Pope quickly excommunicated him.  Threw him right out of both the monastery and the faith.  Kicked him to the curb, he did.  And off he went into obscurity.  He then got married, had 6 kids and went to work in a supermarket.  I was kidding about supermaket thing.  But all the rest is gospel.  Ahem... 

And thus began the "Protestant Reformation."

But from that day on, "protests" aimed at the Catholic church created a surprising number of different churches.  Different "denominations," as they are called, that had at their foundation a complaint with the way Catholics do things.  And, believe it or not, those complaints have grown to almost 400 different denominations of Protestantism here in America.  From Pentacostalism on the far left, to Mormonism on the far right.  With all the Lutherans and Baptists and Methodists preaching the gospel in the middle.  

Did you know that French king Louis XIV petitioned the Pope to annul his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, 'cause she couldn't produce him a male heir?  I'd think he had some fault in that also, but that's just me.  The Pope declined to do so.  So Louis started his own religion back in the 1400's.  The ultimate, "Take that!"  Identical to Catholicism except you could divorce your spouse at will.  He called it the "Church of England."  Catchy, doncha' think?

And if you think that's a silly reason to start your own church, picture this: the only major difference between the Baptists and the Methodists these days is that one of them celebrates communion once a month, and the other does so every Sunday.  And the Baptists say they don't drink as much.     

Did you know some members of the Church of Christ talk in tounges and kiss snakes?  I thought the Tower of Babel cured all that.  And did you read that one of their leaders got bitten and died recently?  I guess God does not protect those who don't protect themselves.

The Calvinists abstain from both alcohol and the use of foul language.  Making their lives a living Hell.  They better make sure they're marrying the right spouse, 'cause they can't get drunk and yell at them.  And some, like the Amish, eschew all modern inventions, like razor blades and automobiles.  They favor horses and buggies to cars.  No burnouts or donuts for them.  400 denominations.  And they all believe that Jesus is their savior.  I wonder if He'd be pleased with all those choices?  Somehow I doubt it...

Did you know what the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormonism) is based upon?   One Joseph Smith, a young lad in Upstate New York back in the 1,800's, was stopped in his tracks by the Angel Moroni, who showed up unannounced one winter evening.  The Angel ordered Joseph to dig in his cow pasture.  He did so and found golden tablets, they tell us, upon which was written the Book of Mormon.  Which they say is an addition to the New Testament.  The Book is still around but the tablets have conveniently disappeared.

BTW, Mormonsim tells us the Garden of Eden was located just outside of Independence, Missouri.  Well, my friends, I come from that part of the Country and I can tell you that my God is too smart to put the Garden there.  Where you can freeze to death during one third of the year.  And broil during another third.  Anywhere but there, in fact.

That's why I'm FROM there.  As in, waaay FROM. 

My mom had two sisters.  Aunt Isabel and Aunt Laverne.  One was a member of the Southern Church of Christ, a particularly strict denomination, and the other a member of the Northern Church of Christ.  Same denomination, different factions.  I recall them having a heated argument one day in our living room.  Isabel told Laverne toward the end of the spat, "One of us is going to Hell!"  Laverne shot back, "You're right!"  That's just how divided these demominations can be. 

Check out your bible.  Matthew 6: 5-6 states that, "Lo, you are in church if you're on your knee, in your closet, praying to God."  I rather like that.  And then later, Genesis 16-18 speaks of Jesus' baptism by Peter.  Jesus looked at Peter and said, "Upon this rock I shall build my church."  I think he meant that Peter was his rock, not the ground upon which they both stood at the time.  (The Catholic church agrees with me, BTW.)  

But His wishes have not been honored.  We have churches on every street corner.  Not as many as Starbucks has coffee shops, but close.  Built with the tithes of their followers over many centuries.  I've had the opportunity to tour all the great cathedrals of Europe, including the famous Notre Dame de Paris.  Before the fire.  Very impressive.  And expensive to build.  And paid for by peon parishioners over a thousand years.    

Jesus was totally against all the myriad ostentatious vestiges of Judaism, including the tax collectors at the Temple.  Flowing robes and all that.  He wanted more simple, humble trappings to express his followers' religious fervor.  But that's not what He got.  He got what the ego of legions of spiritual leaders conjured up.  It seems that anyone can start a church in a strip mall.  And then move on to a megachurch with tens of thousands of followers over time.  Usually the guy running it will be a dude with flowing hair, remanufactured teeth, a big expensive car, custom fitted suits, a deep baritone voice and a private jet.  

I just threw up in my mouth.  Excuse me.

And even Catholicism has its variants.  Some of its more conservative examples still conduct their services in Latin.  Like Mel Gibson prefers.  Imagine having to learn a foreign language in order to express your faith.  And some feature priests in jeans with a back-up band.  I think they think they've been left behind.  And they're catching up rapidly.

I have a 10 year perfect attendance pin from the Sunday school back in my home town.  And that was in the "First Christian Church."  I wonder if, like banks, there's a  "Second Christian Church" somewhere?  Anyway, people may now pick their protestant church like ordering from a Chinese restaurant menu.  One from column "A," and two from column "B..."  

From what I see there's a growing interest in religion in America.  I think some feel our society is falling apart.  Which it truly seems to be.  So folks are starting to attend church in huge numbers, especially after the assassination of Charlie Kirk.  They think they need it.  I think everybody needs it.  Religion, that is.  And I believe that there's a strong reason for them to attend.  That's because our young folks are stuck at home with their noses in their laptops instead of practicing their pickup lines, going out and meeting future spouses.  And producing big families.  Even bars are better than hanging around in your mom's spare bedroom.

I'm just at odds with formally attending church for the rest of us who've got our lives ironed out.  I don't need it.  I've read the Bible twice.  I know what it says.  I don't need an interpreter.  I do my study at home, at my leisure.  Reading my Bible at a time convenient to me.  I don't need to dress up and impress anyone.  Plus, like many others, I'm not as mobile as I used to be.  So getting to and from presents an unneeded challenge.  No need to be seen to be religious.  That's what Jesus advocated.   

And that's good enough for me.

There's This One Thing...

There's this ONE thing that's been bothering me for quite awhile.  Actually, there are several, but there's this one in particular.

German psychology professor William Stern created the I.Q. system way in back in 1905.  He decided for his theory that the average human had an I.Q. (Intelligence Quotient) of 100.  Those smarter would be higher on the I.Q. scale, those less bright would be lower.  Those with an I.Q. of say 135 - 140 would be considered brilliant, and those with an I.Q. of 71 - 80 would be as dumb as a bag of hammers.  But still be able to ring up your hot dog at the 7/11.  Or deliver your mail.  

You get it, right?

And then there's Alfred Binet.  He was a French psychologist who took what Stern had developed and folded it into useful intelligence testing.  He would divide physical age through mental age to get the actual I.Q.  

So having majored in Psychology (and economics), and having tested hundreds of my fellow 'Muricans on what later became known as the "Stanford-Binet I.Q. Test" to determine their level of smarts, I figured I had this whole thing down pat.  Or is it "Pat?"  Who's Pat, again?  Sorry, I don't know.  Where were we?  Oh yeah...

Even after having accumulated some 60 hours of college psyc as an undergrad, some of them 500 level,* which is hard to do, I can tell you.  I assumed that Dr. Binet was right; the average 'Murican's score was about 100.  Turned out I might have been right back then, but no longer.  The world has changed...

How did I determine I was waaaay off base?  The Internet.  Once that the Chinese Wuhan Killer Corona Virus hit, and hit hard, everyone was ordered to go home, close and lock the doors behind them, pull down the shades and hide under the bed until further notice.  But put on their laptops, or their hand held phones, and vacuum up all the available info their little hearts desired.  Watch the news, they were instructed, or Facebook, or TikTok, or Instagram, whatever.  But be sure to wear your face mask all the while.   

It was as if a switch was flipped.  I sensed for some time that our educational establishment was failing us, and that we were graduating barely functional, semi-prepared losers, but the Virus confirmed it.  And God, what I saw was startling!

The average 'Murican doesn't score 100 in my opinion.  Not even close!  Maybe 85 or 90, but nowhere near 100.  And going down.  Rapidly.  In short, I don't think our average neighbor, yours and mine, could pour piss out of a boot!  Like Senator John Kennedy recently said about our Congressweenie Alex Ocasional-Cortex, "She's why they put instructions on a bottle of shampoo."  Not just her, Senator, perhaps about half of us.

Oh yeah, AOC is the only bartender who never brought anything to the table.  Ahem...

Get on the 'Net and take a look.  You'll see if you pay attention that people really don't know what's happening in the world today.  They get their news from TikTok.  And TikTok isn't a news source.  It's for entertainment.  They might be entertained, but they are not enlightened.  Or educated.  And they show it.  I grew tired of watching the people riding by on their bicycles while wearing a mask.  Or separating themselves by 6 feet in lines at the supermarket, paper masks covering everything but their noses.  Paper.  With holes in them large enough for a bacteria to walk through sideways.  The holes in paper masks, BTW, are 50,000 times larger than a virus.  They were designed to corral bacteria, not viruses.  Look it up if you doubt me.  We were being bullshi*ted by our supposed "leaders," and I knew it.

Unfortunately, few others did.

And with our schools closed for two years, and our kids forced to learn via Zoom, I feel we made our children dumber.  Think about this; the LAUSD, or Los Angeles Unified School District, is our very largest.  It tries to corral 520,000 L. A. County school age children with an $18.7 Billion Dollar budget.  And leadership which never had an original thought.  

And does it work?  No!  The LAUSD graduates only 44% of its students!  Every year.  And nobody in power cares, because their kids don't go there.  Their kids are in private schools.  The same ones they publicly denegrate.  And the teachers' union demands more money to fix the problem they've created.  It's nothing but a prep academy for future San Quentin residents. 

Look around you.  Half of our Country thinks is A-Okay for boys to compete against girls in high school and college sports.  And clap politely when the boys win.  And then force the girls to let them pee and a poop alongside them.  And shower, also.  

About half of our Country thinks it's a good idea to hire some 900,000 of our citizens as police officers and sheriffs' deputies, and then back legislation to refuse to pay them.  "Defund the Police" became their mantra.  Somebody try and convince me why that's a good idea.

Half of our Country thinks it's a fine idea to make the consumption of hard drugs legal, and to also sell and use them on our sidewalks.  Sort of a grand experiment, resulting in increased crime levels and increased addiction. 

Half of our Country believes we should make felonies like carjacking and burglary and home invasion, and even attempted murder, so insignificant that we offer them "no cash" bail.  And turn them loose back on our streets before the cops can finish their booking sheets.  Allowing them to rack up 35 or 40 arrests before sending them off to the Big House for some hard time.  And then parole them before they've served all of their sentences.

Half of our Country thinks it's a great idea to go to the grass shop, buy some pot, then go home and lose themselves in a haze of smoke.  And even take a few puffs before heading off to work the next morning.  The parents of those legislators would have been mortified.  Because only yesterday it was illegal to smoke grass.  It could get you 5 to 10 in the Big House.  It was considered a "gateway" drug.  "Just say no," and all that.  

There was this Black guy in Texas who got 20 to life a generation ago for having a baggie of weed under the front seat of his car.  The sentence was overturned, but only after he served 14 years.  It might give you an idea of how things were before states began realizing they could balance their books by making pot legal.  Like California, which rakes in a 30% tax on grass sales.  Didn't know that, did you?  And the result?  A generation of potheads.  Legal potheads, just walzing through life, with frustrated cops wishing they could run them in.  

Half of our Country thinks its acceptable to refuse to prosecute our criminals while also making our citizens'  ownership and utilization of firearms illegal.  Blaming guns for how people use them.  Attempted murderers everywhere, but no, you can't protect yourself against them.  Get caught with a firearm improperly carried or transported and it will be YOU who gets prosecuted!

Half of our Country thinks it's just fine to grant our mentally addled the right to declare themselves as the opposite sex.  Just "identify" as a woman if you're a man, or the other way around, and voila!  You're accepted!  Even believing that men can get pregnant!  After all, no skin off their backs, right?

Half our Country thinks it's a good idea to parole hardened felons with long sentences so they can close prisons and reduce outlays.  Like our own BoyGuv ("Hairgod") Newsom who's already sent home 62,000 hardened felons from our biggest prisons.  Like Mamdami is closing Rikers Island.  Taking away more than 30% of all the jail cells in of New York City.  Forcing the outer buroughs to use their own jails if they want prisoners sentenced.  It will happen this year, and seemingly no one can stop it.    

Half of our Country thinks if just fine to send their kids off to high-zoot Ivy League colleges and universities, pay $80,000 or $90,000 a year for the privelege, then stand by as they major in Medieval Lesbian Poetry and Black Studies and Marxist Theory.  And then wonder why companies like General Motors and Pfizer and Wal-Mart won't hire them.  Watching them take jobs where they must ask, "Would you like fries with that?," without the least bit of guile.  

And yet these same folk look down their noses at those who take jobs as plumbers and mechanics and carpenters, which pay well beyond $100,000 a year to start,** believing they're somehow less than welcome in polite society.  A generation ago these citizens would be considered the underclass.  Now?  They're the smart ones.  The ones who start earning from Day One, without a yuuuge student loan to pay back.  They're laughing all the way to the bank.  

Mike Rowe has been banging this drum for two decades.  People are now beginning to pay attention.

Half of our Country somehow thinks that they're owed a living.  That they're owed freedom bought for them by soldiers and sailors and Marines who have fought and some died.  That they can dictate to you and me how they should be treated, without making a single meaningful contribution to our society.  They're pond scum, doncha' know.  They just don't know it.  

I'm just an observer.  I just sit back and watch.  And wonder.  And then offer up my opinions.  Knowing full well that opinions are like assholes; everybody's got one.  Mine's just more opinionated than others.  I consider myself "Super Average."  I believe that 80% of the folks out there agree with me 80% of the time.  I think and say what others are thinking, but are just too afraid to say it.  I guess I'm just too dumb to be afraid.  

Back in "my day," I know, I know, you were judged by how much you brought to the party.  You weren't hired by a company unless you could provide more to their bottom line than the their cost to put you to work.  To feed and clothe and house you, so to speak.  Otherwise, you were worthless.  Now?  Seems like nearly everyone is worthless.

And worst of all, they don't even know it.

Like I've said over and over, my opinion's worth what you paid for it.  Zip, nada, nothing.  But it might be worth considering if you're in a position to somehow change the way we're operating.  Because the way we're operating right now doesn't feed the bulldog.... 

*       Plumbers in Chicago are being poached, as Mike Rowe has reported, like hedge fund managers.  They're paying up to $272,000 a year (!). 

**   One of my favorite memories was a 400-level class where I got to train a white rat to stuff a marble into a beer can.  Using a "Skinner Box."  Look it up if you're unfamiliar.  I named him Frank Lloyd Rat.  Too bad, though, they gassed the poor little dude after my class was over.  Too hard to untrain the little fellows, it turned out.  Like some of our adults who've been trained poorly.  Or not at all.  Remember, life is a choice.  Choose wisely, my friends...