Trick or Treat!

Exactly sixty years ago last night I was inducted into the United States Army.  

It was October 31st, 1966.  Trick or Treat.  More trick than treat, to be sure.

I trust you'll pardon me while I digress.  "Inducted" is a strange word, don't you think?  Sorta' like "welcomed."  Or "joined."  Or "partnered with."

To me at the time, it was more like "captured."  Or "abducted."  Or 'kidnapped."  

I had been actively avoiding the military for several years by then.  The "war" in Viet Nam (not ever called that) had been heating up.  The U S. had by then developed a nasty habit of getting involved in shooting wars thousands of miles away.  Nothing close, mind you.  Not down the block.  Not the next state over.  An ocean away.  And me getting shot by some dude sitting in a tree, waiting for me to get off the plane running, was definitely against my better judgement.  

So I had signed up for various colleges and universities without any intention of actually attending.  For I was by then a professional pool player.  And playing pool was lots more fun, and mucho more rewarding than low-crawling through sawgrass in sweltering heat.  And 100% humidity, 8,000 miles away.

So I cannot say I flunked out of 5 colleges.  One would have to actually go to class to flunk out.  I didn't.  Go  to class, that is.  Rather, you could find me in some grungy pool hall named "Dew Drop Inn," or something like it, trying to peel some dude like a grape.  And I did.  I was making by then about $40,000 a year, which in today's money is nearly $375,000.  Quite a lot for a teenager.

Enough that I was able to write a check on my 19th birthday for a brand-new 409 horsepower Chevy Impala Super Sport, 4-speed.  Honduras maroon, black interior.  $2,910.08.  Imagine that.

I thought everyone wore a money belt and carried a gun.  And drove a new car every six months or so.  After destroying the one I was trading in.  Literally beating the crap out of them.  Meeting up with the boys to drive up and down the 4-lane highway, drinking 2 quarts of Falstaff for a $1, and playing poker all night long.  Or taking my babe to the movies and then out parking.  Semi-pro Super Stock drag racing in my spare time.  Collecting and shooting guns.  And having the time of my life.  Way before my age should have permitted it.  This was called living the good life...in my 20's.

My Dad and I even opened a pool hall named "Cass's Cue Club." A block off the square in Chillicothe.  He'd been Missouri's 1929 and '31 State Billiards champion, so playing pool came naturally to him.  And thus, me.  8 pool tables, one snooker table and a billiard table.  Several pin ball machines and lots and lots of drink and snack machines, too.  My brother John was installed as its manager. This was everything one could hope for.  A Balabushka cue I paid $122 for, a really fast car, a beautiful girlfriend, and nothing to do but play.  If they would have just left me alone.  But they didn't.

Then it all caught up with me.  I hadn't read the fine print.  The U. S. of A. gave me and others like me 5 1/2 years to graduate from college before being drafted.  That was called a "2-S" deferment.  And I had burned through those 5 1/2 years.  Without even coming close to graduating.  And the mailman brought my Greetings" from my President one day, letting me know to show up at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.  To begin my Army career.  On Halloween.  "Trick or Treat."  Trust me, it was far more of a "trick" than a "treat."  

(That "career" thing was a joke, BTW.)

I parked my new '66 427, 4-speed Corvette in Dad's garage and said goodbye.   It was painted goodwood green, green leather bucket seats, and all-four available off-road optons.  Outside 3" exhausts, sintered metallic brakes,  tight suspension and super quick steering.  I just saw one sell at Barrett-Jackson similarly equipped the other day for $500,000.  I was sorry to leave it.  I wa sorry to leave, period.  I was leaving my home town.  Where I was in charge of everything I saw.  But something tells me you already knew that.

I walked the block to the bus station and got on.  It was a 200 mile ride across Missouri through the Ozarks.  It was about dusk when we pulled up.  I got off along with about 20 other draftees and was immidiately screamed at by some nameless, faceless dude to line up.  Tallest at the end, he said.  I was the tallest.  We formed this crooked line and waited for what came next.  And it came all too soon.

The shortest guy I'd ever seen in uniform started walking toward me.  He was the drill sergeant and about 5' tall.  He was wearing one of those Smokey the Bear hats with the broad flat brim.  He headed straight my way.  And then poked the brim of his hat into my sternum.  He started yelling at me in some strange language.  It was a cross between English and Tagalog.  Befitting a Filipino lifer who hadn't yet mastered our language.  But had mastered being a lifer drill sergeant.  I couldn't understand a word, although I was pretty sure he wasn't happy with me.  I was looking down at the top of his hat while he yelled.  And for some reason it was just about the funniest thing I'd ever seen.  So I began laughing out loud at this strange event God had given me.   Apparently, that was not the appropriate response.  

The cold late October rain began spitting on me as the sun went down.  And an actual English-speaking sergeant ordered me to follow him to the flagpole sme 20 yards away.  He handed me a rifle and ordered me to hold it at the ready while standing at attention.  He said he'd come back to relieve me of my sentence when the spirit moved him.  The spirit wasn't moving him all that quickly.  I stood there in the 35 degree cold rain for about two hours.  Soaked to the bone.  While everyone else had vacated the parking lot.  I was alone.  And cold.  And thinking about dropping that rifle and running for the exits.

Oh yeah, and I was coughing up blood.  Then I collapsed.

It turns out I had contracted pneumonia.  They carried me to the hospital and that's where I laid for the next two weeks.  My first two weeks in the Army were spent trying to get over my first day in the Army.  It turns out I did, and then began what's called "Hell Week."

That's when they subject you to a bunch of shots to protect you against every disease except two-digit I.Q. drill sergeants.  They were using those new pneumtic guns.  No needles.  They just rip right through your skin.  Each of us received 47 shots that day.  And then told to go to our bunks and lay down.  Mistake.  Because we woke up hours later stiff as a board.  and hurting like nobody's business.  It took three days for us to get over those original vacinations.

They then issued us our clothes and our boots and our gear.  And then began to break us down.  They try their best to take away your name and give you a number.  To remove from you your past and force you to focus on your present.  And your future.  They don't care where you're from or what you did.  Your race and your age do not matter.  They only care about quickly turning you into a soldier.  A lean, mean fighting machine.  For they only have 8 weeks to do so.

You were awaked at 5:45 a.m. every morning and given 10 minutes to shower and shave and dress and be in formation.  Along with 50 others in your training company.  And there were 100 other training companies just like ours at Fort Wood at that time.  There were three main training forts at that time.  Fort Lewis Washington, Forgt Dix, New Jersey and Fort Wood.  All of them were dedicated to readying you for war.  For most of us were headed straight to the "Nam."  You immediately began marching.  10 miles the first week or so.  Then 20 the 2nd.  Then 30.  

Then the rifle range.  Helping those unlike me who'd never shot a gun to get friendly with one.  And the grenade throwing party.  And where they force you to enter the tear gas building and remove your gas mask.  Preparing you in case those nasty Viet Cong threw tear gas at you.  Which probablyn never happened.  And then low-crawling under live machine gun fire, hoping not to die.  All in all, not nearly as much fun as hustling pool.  

Three times a day they'd feed you.  In the mess hall.  Nice name, that.  It was spotless when we entered, having just been cleaned by a gang of on duty soldiers, and a mess when we left.  We were given 7 minutes, SEVEN MINUTES, to get our food, sit down, eat it and leave.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner.  No difference.  7 minutes.  Why?  No one could ever tell me, unless it was to simply torture us some more.  

And then if you were unlucky enough to have the mess hall duty, you'd show up there before dawn, cleaan up the mess left by the prior meal, and prepare the food for breakflast.  And then stand back and watch 207 guys attack the place.  Then, 7 minutes later, you'd have several hours to clean it up and prepare it for lunch.  Once again, 7 minutes of chaos.  And then clean and prep again.  And then dinner.  12 hours of pure Hell a day.  And since my last name was early into the alphabet, I got that duty the first week.  I began hating my life and contemplting suicide.  Not a fun time.

But I then got lucky.  The 1st Sergeant called me out of formation early in the 3rd week and ordered me to the HQ building.  I did as ordered.  I waited until two guys in ill-fitting blue serge suits, with suspicious lumps under their armpits, and buzz haircuts, entered the office.  They told me I'd done well on my entrance exams and would be offered two options to get me out of Basic training.  

First, I could join the White House Communications Team.  They're the folks who travel to where the President is going a week or so from then.  They prepare all the microphones and speakers and TV's and then pack it all up and go on to the next place.  Boring, I thought.  

The other option was to become a "spook."  Army  Intelligence.  An agent.  A guy who tries to ferret out the Bad Guys before they could sabotage our efforts.  And do so in Germany.  Not Viet Nam.  Germany.  More accurately, Europe.  All over Europe.  Or even the world.  That sounded very good to me.  Europe instead of Asia.  I took Door "B."  And packed my bags for Fort Belvoir, Virginia  Just across the River from Washington, D.C.  And then I underwent six weeks of training to become James Bond, Jr.  No Licence to Kill, but a license to investigate.  An altogether better life than 100 degree heat and humidity on the other side of the Earth.

I was first sent to Paris, France, on tremporary duty.  I'm preparing a posting all about that, so keep reading this blog.  It'll be out shortly.  And then to Germersheim Army Depot as my duty assignment.  That's the place where all the Army's tanks and jeeps and trucks and rolling stock is kept in case the commies cross the s the Fulda Gap and cause a war.  Once again, I'm writing all about that so you'll know the particulars real soon.  For now, here's my wrap:

I thought the world was my oyster.  I thought it revolved around me.  I soon learned, it didn't.  In fact, I learned very quickly that I was a tiny little player in a very big operation.  I was yanked from Chillicothe, Missouri and forced to grow up fast.  I'd always told myself I could master anything they could throw at me.  And I finally had to prove it.  I had to interact with a bunch of new guys right now!.  Black, Brown, Yellow, Red and other Whites from North and South and West and East.  The folks I'd had to deal with over a hot pool table were just preparation for the hundreds, thousands at this very big Army base.  

I was finally challenged to show my stuff.  To take charge.  To begin showing my leadership talents.  The ones I'd always known I had, just never had to show them.  I was by then 23, a bit older than the other recruits.  And wiser.  And more traveled.  And more in awe.  This was the Big World!  It was no longer about me in a little Midwestern town!  It was about the Country!  And I could eithr join in with them and try and win, or fight.  I chose to join. 

For those who haven't yet become a true patriot, a died-in-the-wool nationalist, someone who bleeds Red, White and Blue, a Constitutionalist, this posting may not mean much to you.  But it does to me.  I left my small town boy behind and became a Citizen!  Someone who fought for the Country, and would fight for it again.  And again!  Someone who is proud of who we Americans are and what we've become.  Someone who knows we've not always made the right decisions, but always strived for greatness.  And honor.  And fairness.  And truth.  Sixty years ago I became not just a pool playinig Missourian, but an American!

I invite you to join with me and work to make America the very best that it can be.  You can find me on the America side of every issue.  Every day.  I still play pool, whenever my (five spinal fusion) back permits.  I still collect and shoot guns.  And I still write this unassuming little blog whenever an issue pops up that commands my attention.  But to that I add it has always made better and more patriotic because of the time I spent in the United States Army.

P.S.  This is written in the loving Spirit of the more than One Million Americans who came before me who wrote a blank check for an amount up and including their life to you and me, and we were forced to cash it...

An Idea Whose TIme Has Come...

Why are we expected to obey the law when the state we live in...DOESN'T?

Seventeen of our 50 states have chosen to declare themselves "Sanctuary States."  That mean they've chosen not to obey Federal immigration laws as it regards hunting down, arresting, jailing and deporting illegal aliens.  Actions they're Constitutionally required to perform.

In short, they are willfully ignoring a Federal law.

Those are the people who are here in our Country illegally.  They've chosen to ignore our laws.  And have broken them by entering the U. S. without permission.  Whether overstaying their visa, or simply slipping through our border without permiission.  Or like during Biden't era, not slipping.  Actually walking.  Cruising.  And being welcomed by Biden's cronies.  They've given our laws the finger.  And 17 of our states are choosing to aid them.  

This whole thing started back in 1971 with...guess who?...Berkeley.  The City of Berkeley declared itself a sanctuary to all illegal aliens.  Of course, they didn't call them "illegals."  That was a dirty word to Berkeley.  "Undocumented" was the preferred word.  Sort of like calling drug dealers "Personal Pharmacists" I would say.  The City, no doubt goaded into action by the single most liberal institute of "much higher" and "much more expensive" learning, had no choice but to turn its back on the Federal Gubmint.  It declared its intention to help those here illegally to evade the Federal Government.  To the extent that when they're arrested, regardless of the charge, this city, and those states who've signed on, refuse to honor our Federal detainers.  That's the paperwork we file with their jails and prison network to hold on to that illegal after their sentence is served so we can take them into custody.  Right from the front door of the jail.  And then to deport them back to their country of origin.

Simple.  And easy to honor.  Just be law-abiding.

Except Berkeley and the other cities are bound and determined to let them out the back door.  To try and help them avoid being snagged by our ICE officers.  For whatever (illegal) reason.

Were they to do as required by law we'd simply show up at the jail with one or two ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agents, take custody of them, and deport them.  Especially those with "Final Orders of Removal."  Issued and signed by a Federal judge.  

But when they refuse, failing to turn over that illegal, it makes us hunt them down.  Usually with 10 or 20 ICE officers.  Which may result in collateral arrests.  Of other illegals we weren't originally serching for.  Their wives.  And aunts and uncles.  And children.  Or even gun battles between our officers and the illegal and cohorts.  Who usually have "FOR"'s from the U. S.  Perhaps resulting in injuries or even deaths.  Even of those not involved in the action.

Would it surprise you to learn that there are more than 1,000 American cities, towns, villages and townships which have followed Berkeley's example and declared themselves "sanctuaries" for illegal aliens?  

Which is itself a violation of our Federal law.  One Thousand.  Which brings up an Existential Question:  

If the city or state you live in openly chooses to disobey the law, like California where I live does, laws they're Constitutionally bound to obey, why are we expected to obey theirs?  And more importantly, should we?

If your city chooses to turn its back on a law, why shouldn't you turn your back on theirs?  Why should you honor their traffic laws, for example, when they pick and choose which Federal law to honor?  

Why shouldn't you pick and choose which of their laws to follow?  Like writing bum checks?  Or jacking a car? Or holding up the local 7/11?  Why shouldn't you tell the officer that pulls you over that you just won't follow that stop sign ordinance today?  Or the 50 mph speed zone?  Taking it as more of a "suggestion" you choose not to accede to rather than a "law."  A suggestion you'll consider following one day soon.  Just not today.  Why not even type up a paragraph declaring your refusal to follow a particular law?  Like all traffic laws?  And taping it to your window? 

I wonder if the cops, which are not usually terribly bright anyway, would go along with that bit of reasoning.  But I'd really like to give it a try.  Wouldn't you?  

On the other hand, 20 states have passed laws requiring their cities and towns to acquiesce to Federal immigration laws.  To follow Federal laws. Whether they like them or not?  Those are the states that are governed by Republicans, BTW.  The 17 which pick and choose are uniformly governed by Democrats.  That likely didn't surprise you, I'm guessing you already knew that.  

Think of it this way.  The Original 13 colonies, the Mid Atlantic states, the far left states of Taxifornia, Oregone and Washington, New Mexico and Colorado all declare themselves superior to the Federal Government.  They've decided not to follow Fed laws.  Not surprising.  They're all Deep Blue liberal.  Maybe we should trade them to Canada for a couple of western provinces.  Which are just as pissed at their Federal Gubmint as we are about ours.

And are rich in natural resources, like oil, which we could exploit with their blessing.  

The "MainStreamMedia" and their 17 state  handmaidens routinely bitch and moan about the damage done to illegals and the collaterals when our ICE officers hunt them down.  Even knowing that there would be far fewer injuries and even deaths if they'd give us access to their jails.  Which they will not do.  We could even reduce the number of ICE officers substantially if we didn't have to hunt down the illegals.  Remember, our ICE officers are only necessary to find illegals once they blow past our bornders.  I'm of the opinion that they want it that way.  That they relish the chance to paint ICE as evildoers.  Even though they're only doing the job our Congress has hired them to do.  And has been previously stated, if the People don't like us following their laws, they should change them.  Have you seen any effort by those scofflaw states to do so?

Me neither.

Wouldn't it be better if we'd simply divorce ourselves from New York and New Jersey and the original 13 colonies, and the Mid Atlantic states, and Illinoway, and all the others?   They're all clumpted together anyway, why not let them go their own way?  Being contiguous isn't all it's cracked up to be anyway.  Maybe they should join forces with Canada.  And allow the Conservative states to follow our Constitution, arrest the illegals and send them home.  Or chase them into the new states.  Where they're mostly congregated anyway.  

There was a time in the '70's, back during our Viet Nam "conflict," when many of our young men were escaping to Canada in order to avoid military service. We therefore have a lot of experience running down scofflaws.  Maybe even give them a bus ticket to the New Socialist States of America?  They love them up there anyway!   It's time to make them both happy and finally resolve this troubling issue.   

I think that's an idea whose time has come.  What do you think?

A Quasi-Existential Question

 Planning on buying a new car soon? 

Would you be in the market for a new car anytime soon?  Could you use a few suggestions as to how best to save some money?  A new car is likely the second biggest expense the average citizen will ever have.  And being a car guy, who's had sooooo many of them, I might be able to help.  Read on...

It's surprising that so few 'Muricans know how our car business is structured.  How it actually works.  So here are a few facts you can take to the bank.  Or to your credit union, so as to have pre-approved financing in your pocket when you finally visit the dealer.

And by "finally," try and avoid actually going to the dealer until you've cut the deal.  First, get an  "Out the Door" price.  Including the car's price, with taxes, fees and add-ons.  With no discussion about used car trade-ins.  If you do this you'll be MILES ahead.

And speaking of dealers, car dealers in 'Murica, with exception of Tesla, which sells direct to consumer, are all customers of the manufacturers.  The manufacturer, Ford, Chevrolet, Toyota, Honda, Porsche, etc., make the cars.  They then sell them at wholesale to their dealer network.  Who then attempt to sell them at retail to you and me and our neighbors.  

At the greatest possible profit possible.

There are now about 19,900 dealers in America.  Who  have about 2,900,000 cars on hand as this is written.  Sitting on their lots.  Costing them interest.  Representng about an 87 day supply at current rates of sale.  That's a lot of cars, and a lot of days.  Think about that.

And by "retail," I mean the MSRP.  Or, "Manufacturers Suggested Retail Price."  You'll find the sticker on the window of each new car expressing that price.  Most of us tend to call ths the "Sticker Price."

It tells you the basic MSRP of the car, plus all the extras.  The extra prices for special interior options, for a larger engine, for fatter tires and larger wheels, for a better suspension, for the special sound system, etc.  Each of these options has a retail price, which, when added to the basic price, gives you your total.  It's shown as the bigger, bolder price at the bottom right hand of what's usually called the "Moroney" sticker.  That's the price against which your negotiation begins.

Each manufacturer has its own dealer network.  When the new car Ford or Chevy or Toyota builds and rolls off the car hauler at the dealer, what's called the "Floor Plan" begins.  That's when the loan the dealer takes out on each car against the MSRP begins in effect.  

Most of the manufacturers have their own finance companies.  That's the manufacturer which owns the lender "buying" the car from the dealer at 95% - 100% of the MSRP.  It makes the cars, then sells them to their dealers by loaning them money to buy them.  Sort of a circular arrangement, don't you think?

The manufacturer makes the cars - sells the cars to the dealers - then loans the dealers money to buy them back from the manufacturers at interest, called the "Floor Plan."  Whew!  

The "floor plan" usually begins in effect from 15 - 45 days from the delivery to the dealer.  Giving the dealer time to sell the cars before any interest payments begin.  Then it is charged on each car at the going interest rate, usually 6.5% - 7%, plus 200 - 400 basis points.  Or, on the average $50,000 new car, figure about $360 per month.  So, simply stated, the longer the dealer has that new car on his lot, the more he has in interest payments invested in that car.  And the more likely he will discount the car to end the expensive floor plan costs.  Good to know if you can find out how long its been there.  And there are ways to find that out.*  More on that later.

So simply stated, if the dealer can sell all his cars within a month or so of delivery, he'll suffer no interest payments on those cars.  Thus, his profit margin will markedly increase.  In other words, it pays him to move his cars really fast.  Meaning, it pays him to sell his cars at or near his invoice price in direct competition to other dealers to move the iron fast and avoid interest costs.  Think of this as additional profit.

The salesman's job is to sell you the car, and at the greatest gross profit margin possible (many are paid as a % of gross profit).  As a general rule, the salesman will make between $200 and $1,200 per sale.  Sometimes if the car is sold at break even or even a loss, the salesman will still earn what's called a "mini," or minimum commission.  Usually about $150 - $200 per car.  Also good to know if you're negotiating.

Now then, the dealer will pay the manufacturer from 2% to 15% less than its MSRP.  That's the difference between his wholesale price and your retail.  A Porsche dealer may only get a 3% discount (their purchasers are comfy with paying retail), whereas a Nissan dealer may get 15%.  Got it?  Plus, what are called "hold backs," which are volume sales payments and special end of year stuff known only to the dealers and their  manufacturers.  That's how the dealer can make money even selling a new car at cost.  Or even at a loss.

Now then, how does a dealer make money if he sells cars at a minimum profit?   Simple.  He makes money on your trade-in.  He buys it from you at whlolesale, and sells it to your neighbor at retail.  The difference is his profit.  And the price of used cars have no "Moroney" stickers on the window.  It's much harder to value used cars, whether taking them from you as a trade-in, or selling it to your neighbor.  Such things as age, condition, miles, valuable options, desirability, etc., may increase (or decrease) the used car's value.  

So the dealers' used car lot is a MAJOR profit generator.  My advice is to visit CarVana and CarMax and first get an offer to buy your used car.  Don't sell it to them, just get the offer.  In writing.  Then take that offer with you to the new car dealer and keep it in your pocket.  Then, ask for the dealers' "Out The Door" price of the car you want to buy.  Don't mention your trade-in until you have their OTD price.  Then, bring up the used car and negotiate from your CarMax or CarVana offer.  If you cannot get a good price for your car on trade at the dealer, sell it for your certified used car offer.  Or even direct, although that can be a pain, and also dangerous (Make sure you have your .38 with you, loaded, if you choose to sell personally.  I rent myself out as an armed bodyguard by the hour.).

Another MAJOR profit generator is the dealers' service department.  They sell their mechanics' time at $100 - $150 an hour while paying them $40 - $50, plus parts at retail, so they generate BIG BUCKS fixing your out-of-warranty car.  Oh yeah, and the more cars they sell, the more likely they'll get a discount on their parts, creating another profit opportunity when selling those parts to you at retail.  As much as half of the dealers' profits come from their service departments.

And how long has that new car been sitting on the lot?  Open the driver's door and look at the sticker on the jamb.  It will tell you when the car was built.  Then add about 2 months to that date to give time for it to be shipped to the dealer and the floor plan freebie to run its course.  Then start computing the $360 - $400 a month the dealer's been paying for interest costs.  You'll then know how better to negotiate your final price.

And lastly, all this has been the dance the dealer goes through to get you to where the real profit is made:  The "F&I Office."  That stands for the Finance and Insurance Office.  That's where the dealer's best salesman is located and is your last stop after a long day of negotiating.  That's the smallish little office with all the windows, with a desk and you and a guy with a computer.  He'll start with the deal you've made with the salesman and then add an additional average of $2,500, to as much as $6,000 in profit to the sale while you're not looking.  

He'll begin by charging you somewhere between $200 and $1,200 in admin "documentation" fees for preparing the sale paperwork.  Which costs them probably $25 in secretarial labor.  Why?  Because he can.  You can try and get that fee removed.  Good luck.  You'll probably be unsuccessful.  as that's their guaranteed profit margin the dealer makes and they'll hold on to it as long as they can.

To this, the guy will try and sell you a whole bunch of mostly unnecessary crap to further sweeten their profit.  Window tint.  Door guards.  Paint protection insurance.  Nitrogen in your tires.**  Interior protection plan.  Pickup bed liners.  Lifetime oil changes.  Gap insurance (the car gets totaled.  That's the difference between what your insurance company pays and what you owe on the loan).  And lastly, their bank loan for the car (that's when you whip out your credit union pre-approval).  They'll otherwise solicit loans from banks on your behalf, get a bevy of offers, and then try and add a point or two or three to those offers.  Keeping the difference as their improved profits.  Worth as much as $2,000 in increased $dollars to the dealer during the life of the loan.

Is being a dealer a good deal?  Yes.  Because they have so many ways of beating you into the ground.  Without divulging the ways they're doing so.  Especially toward the end of a hard day negotiating your new car purchase.  I personally would love to see "Direct to Consumer" pricing like Tesla is doing.  But until then, your best bet is to research new cars until you find exactly what you want.  Stay home and call the dealers.  Try and negotiate frome home.  Then go into the dealer to finalize whatever deal you're able to negotiate.  

Likely your research will result in your knowing more about that new car than the salesman who's trying to sell it to you.  After all, they were selling vacuum cleaners last week.  Do the test drive, don't smile, don't indicate your interest.  After you've test driven several cars, sit in your comfy Barcalounger, open a cool one, and then start calliing dealers.  Then make an offer at "X" dollars less than MSRP.  Negotiate from there.

And don't stop at your neighborhood dealers.  Google how many of your preferred car is available nationwide.  Then call all over the place.  If you can find your preferred car in Omaha, you can have it shipped to you for no more than $1,200.  If you can save $5,000 from MSRP by calling around, that $1,200 is bupkus (and deductible!).

Then go into the F&I" office with your agreed upon price and pre-approved interest rate.  And don't buy anything the guy has to offer.  NOTHING!  That's your only way of getting the best deal.  He's there to screw you.  And you don't want to be screwed.  He'll try and sell you a package of "safety" or "convenience" or "beauty" options, usually priced about $3,000.  Think of it this way: if the extra stuff they're trying to sell you needed to be on your car, wouldn't Toyota or Ford or Buick include it?  Is their paint so bad it needs protecting?  Same with their interior.  Why would you need to pay another $50 a month to "fix" what Chevrolet just built?  And multiply $50 a month times 62 or 74 or 86 months you'll be making payments and you'll realize how much those sales mean to the dealer.

Good luck.  And enjoy your new ride.  Unless it's a special car, like a Porsche 911, or a Mercedes G-Wagon, the very moment you drive it off the lot you'll lose somewhere around 25% - 30% off its MSRP.  And by the time its 5 years old, it will be worth no more than 50% of its new price.  Usually 40% - 45%.  So knowing this, do not ever, EVER pay a "Mark Up" on the price of a new car (over MSRP) because it's in short supply (which it usually isn't).  Or a spcialty ride, like a Corvette ZR-1.  There may be only two of them in Cincinnatti, but 53 of them in the good ol' U. S. of A.  You'll be throwing your money away.  And right into the dealers' pocket.

And he's counting on it.

Which, finally, is my suggestion.  New cars can be expected to run for 150,000 miles with few repairs.  Some for 250,000 miles.  Google it to find out.  At an average of 10,000 - 12,000 a year, a car will have only 25 - 30,000 miles on the clock by the 3rd year, or about 45 - 50,000 miles on it by the 5th year.  Buy that used car for half price.  All the kinks will have been worked out by then.  All the manufacturer's call backs and repairs will have been done.  

It should then run famously for a dozen more years with few costs other than routine maintenance.  And now that new cars are full of unnecessary gimcrackery, including buttons that will push other buttons at the sound of your voice asking them to push buttons, which you do not need, the likelyhood is you don't want all that expensive crap.  It's just going to break anyway.  Try and buy the best equipped used car with the fewest miles.  In short, buy low miles even if you have to pay a little extra.  The car will pay you back with fewer repair costs in the long run.  

Example:  I bought a 2013 luxury car just back from a 5-year lease as my primary ride, driven only 20,000 total miles (it was leased by the Irvine Co's CEO's wife who lived a mile from work), for $20,000.  it was $46,000 new.  My only expenses have been oil changes.  And it's never Been back to the dealer.  The dealer made very few dollars from me.  And I smile about that every time I drive by his store.    

In short, I love cars.  I just don't love paying a dealer too much of my hard-earned money.  They are there to peel you like a grape.  Think of them as the enemy.  And prepare yourself before you go into enemy's camp.  Gird your loins.  Arm yourself with knowledge.  Try and outthink them.  Try and stay ahead of them in their quest to take your money.  Try and play chess while they play checkers.  Get a cash offer on your used car.  Be prepared to get up and walk out if they try and hose you.  And they likely will.  Trust me, they'll chase you down before you can get to your car and beg you to come back in.  And then they'll lie when the truth would sound better.  It's just part of their game.  And so, Fellow Patriot, I trust you'll find some value in these words.  

Lastly, don't allow them to take you for a ride.  (that's a joke!).  And finally, don't ever pay for that self-driving software.  Like Tesla and GM try to sell you  at a premium of $15,000, or even more.  Drivng is waaaay too much fun without it!  After all, if you need to be driven, it's probably cheaper (and safer!) to hire somebody to drive you...

*     You can find out how long the car has been on the lot by checking with "InvoicePrice.com."  Or Edmunds.com," or Kelley Blue Book's "KBB.com."   Which is owned by Cox Automotive, one our largest dealer networks;  Generally, the bigger the dealer, the more likely they'll be happy if you know their costs.  With volume comes discount.  Every day.  

**    An optional fee for nitrogen in your tires is one of my favorite screw jobs offered by dealers today.  78% of what's in the air you breathe is nitrogen.  So why should you pay $400 or more for a bit more nitrogen?  I keep wondering when they're going to try and sell us insurance against evil spells?  Generated by witches who happen to be in the factory?  Do yourself a favor.  Look the F&I guy in the face and tell him "NO!"  Then stop by the bar in your new car and celebrate!

A Major League Existential Question

Are we all suffering from Governmental Theft?

I might mention that I'm a graduate economist. Whereas I will comment on nearly everything on this unassuming little blog, includiing stuff I know absolutely nothing about, my education and 50 years of business experience therefore enables me to deduce that we're being screwed.  By our Gubmint.  Yours and mine.  Screwed.  Here's how...

I wrote a check for a 1962 Chevrolet Impala Super Sport, 4-speed, 409 cube, 409 horsepower with Posi-trac, while the Beach Boys record was on the charts, on my 19th birthday (the result of playing a really good game of pool).  It cost me $2,929.00.  Just short of $3,000 dollars.  Only.

That was 63 years ago.  

The same car is not avaiable today.  Our Gubmint has legislated it out of existance.  But its closest repacement today costs more than $70,000.  The reason it has increased in cost, but arguably not in value, is inflation.  That's the result of "Too many dollars chasing too few goods."  That's the classic definition of inflation.  And it results from us having to compete with our Fedrul Gubmint for the things we have to buy to live and work.

Our clothes.  Our gasoline.  Our food.  Our lodging.  Our everything.  Our Gubmint buys those things.  By the millions.  We're trying to compete with the folks we hire who print money.  We don't print money.  So we cannot compete.

And what we experience is a classic increase in prices of 2% or 4% or during the Biden era, 9% every year.  What costs us $100 today may cost us $105 next year.  And what does the Feds do in resonse to that increase?  They work to raise the wages of those who are left behind.  They try and increase how much people are earning in order to quell the pain they feel from the increased costs of goods and sevices.  So that those folks continue to vote for those in power.  So far so good, right?

WRONG!

That's not what those of us who are on fixed incomes need.  Not what those of us who are living on our savings need.  Not what the 57.8 Million of us who are retired and livnig on our savngs actually need.  Not what those of us who see our savings go down in value with every inflationary uptick, need.

I relate it to being on that moving walkway at LAX.  You depart the plane.  You step on the motorized walkway.  Instantly you're moving at a rate faster than those who you see walking along beside you.  And it works just fine until you have to step off.  when you reach your gate a few hundred feet or yards down the hallway.  Or the exit.  Or the bag claim.  Right away you notice you're moving much slower than those on the moving walkway.  They're moving out of sight.  You're being left behind.  And there's not a dayumm thing you can do about it.

Imagine you have $200,000 in savings.  And annual inflation is 5%.  That means at the end of this year your savings are no longer worth $200,000.  Your savings are now worth only $190,000.  And next year at the same 5% inflation rate your savings will only be worth $182,000.  And so on.  And so on.  You see how inflation diminishes the value of your savings?

Why, I'm asking, does our Gubmint always work to increase wages to meet the new inflationary level it has created, instead of working to reduce inflated costs to meet our value losses?  In other words, why not work to keep the value of our money where it was, instead of the Gubmint trying to ramp up wages to meet the cost of goods where they are?  That would keep our money at its present value.  

And what would be wrong with that?

My first job post-Army paid me $11,500 year.  And that was a good job!  Car, expense account, stock options.  Now?  Degreed and qualified people can expect $100,000 starting pay, or even more.  But they each had/have the same buying power as I did then.  But being paid $100k somehow makes you numb about the inflation that's robbing you blind.

I call the Gubmint's failure to work to keep our money  at its present value "Governmental Theft."  What would you call it? 

Imagine, if you will, Rip Van Chuckmeister going to sleep in 2020 and then waking up in 2026.  Imagine how surprised he'd be to find out how little his money is then worth.  How about a MickeyD's cheeseburger, fries and a Coke?  That "value meal" was $8.00 when Rip went to sleep.  It's now $13.45.  

Resulting from inflation.

And let's take Rip's car for instance.  He drives a 2013 Hyundai Genesis.  The sticker price on this fully loaded luxury car was $46,400 when new.  It included every single option, including the "Tech Package," whatever that is.  That option had a sticker price of $4,500.  Maybe Rip will find out what it does if he takes the time someday to read the Owners Manual.  But in the meantime, Rip notices that the 2026 Genesis that replaces his 2013, fully loaded one, now costs $104,000.  The difference is caused by inflation.  Good ol' Rip, fearing that he'd developed some sort of brain misfire when he notices the increase, rolled over and went back to sleep.

Wouldn't you do the same?  

Somebody needs to run for office promising to take a completely different tack to our perennial inflation.  To work to keep prices where they were instead of where they are.  And then takng a bow for having done so.  The average new car is now $51,120.  Up 40% from 5 years ago.  And up more than 95% from when Rip was 19 years old.  Are our elected representatives now  takng a bow as a result?  Seems to me they are.

They shouldn't be.

Oh yeah, and whereas we used to give out 15% or 20% tips for good service, everybody we come in contact with now demands a tip of 30% or 40% or even more for simply doing their jobs.  When your Starbucks barista demands a tip for simply pouring coffee, doing her job, and making a reported $100,000 a year as a result, there's something seriously wrong.  I respond by staying home and refusing to play along.  Maybe you should do the same.

Maybe we should all do the same...

Another of Those Really Great Exitential Questions.

Do you know the difference between a "college," and a "university?"

Guess what?  I didn't either.  And many of my family members did either.  Including some teachers.  So I did some research.

First of all, somebody with some heavy horsepower somewhere, a long time ago, was responsible for deciding our children should all face a fork in the road: we should either send them off somewhere for higher learning, once they'd reached the 10th grade or so, or sentence them to a life of drudgery.  

Like driving a truck, or digging ditches, or building houses.  That decision could have been made based upon their observed intellect (NOTE: dumb kids don't get the big education), or more likely, the social or financial status of their parents (NOTE:  Well-to-do kids almost always go to college).  If their parents could afford college for their kids, off they'd go.  If not, too bad, so sad.  The life of a tradesman for them.

As if that's a bad idea.  (Spoiler alert:  It isn't)

And whether they'd go to a local 2 or 4-year colleges, or a more prestigious university, almost always depended upon daddy's finances.  And it still does.  I attended both colleges and universities (thrown out of several of the best of each), and never knew the difference.  Except for the cost, that is.  And the size of the parking lot.

In fact, most folks use the terms interchangably.  To denote institutions of post-secondary education.  After high school.  Usually the 12th grade.  But they're different.  So I looked it up.  I spent a couple of hours doing some intensive research.  As only I can.  Oh, I knew that the root words are "college" and "university."  They are latin, meaning "collegium" a partnership, guild, or body of colleagues, and "universitas," meaning the whole, or whole body, or a community.  

Like that's important somehow.  Humor me. 

The first is a group of like-minded folks joined together to engage in a common enterprise.  It could be a bunch of nuns at a convent somewhere.  Or a group of sheriffs' deputies who like to bowl every Thursday night.  Or it could be a 2 or 4 year institution offering degrees in various subjects.  They're typically smaller than a university.  They can be either public or private, and offering certificates, associate degrees or bachelor degrees.  

Universities, on the other hand, are uniformly 4-year institutions, offering both undergraduate and graduate degrees.  They can be either public or private, like colleges.  Universities have more students, often in the tens of thousands.  And gigondo football teams.  They usually represent the states they're in.  You know them when you see them because they have enormous parking lots, and their students must have a hanger on their rearview mirrors denoting they've paid their exhorbitant parking fees.  Otherwise, their cars will be towed.  And they sell $50 hoodies with the football team logos on the back.  And they charge an arm and a leg to go there.  Or at least a leg.  

Many universities are known for their research and development, often paid for by the Federal Gubmint or a friendly corporation.  Which found that the university did the research cheaper than they could.  Most research is paid for by the Federal Gubmint.  They also offer advanced degrees such as PhD's in inane subjects, plus law and dental and archeological studies.  You can also discover some have colleges within their universities, denoting more specilized study.  Like meterology.  Or Medieval Lesbian Poetry.  Or gender studies (spoiler alert; there are only two genders!).  

That's true for both colleges and universities, BTW.

Smart folks go there because their daddy pays for it, likely to keep them away from  home, and so they can become "Professors."  So they can profess.  Which means to preach to their students their particular slant on weird, arcane stuff.  They can get their start as an "Associate Professor," meaning they grade the papers of their professors.  Sort of like a "Farm Club."  Or an "Assistant Professor," meaning they get to order around the Assistants.  Or "Full Professor."  Meaning they know virtually everything there is to know about almost nothing, and have the Associates get their coffee and the Assistants teach their classes.  While they hang out in the Professors Lounge, along with the other self-important slubs.   

And you're gonna' pay through the nose to find out just how much they (think they) know.

The colleges and universities have sucked up all the available teachers so they can now espouse their knowledge.  And opinions.  To the world.  To those who will pay.  Dearly.  And their students are supposed to pay attention to them.  And be judged on their level of inculcation of that knowledge.  Because their Professors have spent years and $Tens of Thousands of Dollars, probably borrowed, learning that stuff.  Stuff that nobody else usually wants to know.  Or even understand. 

And their students will surely get an "A" in each class, so daddy won't  be pissed at their grades.  As an example, a recent review of Harvard grades indicated that everybody, in every subject, got an "A."  Did you expect anything else?  

And the colleges and universities are nothing but a collection of those "Professors."  Like a plumbing company hires supposedly qualified, licenced plumbers to fix your toilets when they break, which is their guarantee they know how to fix toilets, the colleges and universities are supposed to do the same.  Except their "Professors" have no licenses.  Or little white vans with advertising and catchy phone numbers on the side panel to drive around.  They just have sheepskins hanging on their walls.  

But do they actually know stuff?   Do they need sheepskins to teach "Equine Reproduction," as an example?  Or "Black Studies?"  How often do you need to study that, BTW? And do their students need to be knowledgeable in that subject?  Or will their graduates be asking, "Would you like fries with that?"  The purpose of this little blog today is to ask that question.  And to try and provide you with an answer.

Do the "professors" at U.C. Berkeley, one of America's most prestigious universities, we're told, or Stanford, as an example, actually know the stuff you're supposed to know if you go there for an advanced degree?  Or do they just pass along their Uber-Liberal predilections on one subject or another?  Or are they chosen by voice vote of the other Professors, like a fraternity.  Enabling them to join the "club."  

Like the Mafia chooses its "made men."  And God help you if you get blackballed!

Are they better and smarter than, say, those at U.C. Riverside?  A veritable joke among Berkeley elites?*  Or the University of Arkansas?  Or the U. of Missouri?  Or Nebraska?  Which are more than likely going to pass along a more Conservative view?  Because their "Professors" are likely more Conservative?  Else they wouldn't have attended there.  Or stayed there to profess.  In short, is a degree in Psychology, as an example, from Berkeley, more valuable to you and me than a degree in the same subject from say, the U. of Arkansas?  Or given that, although there is no hard-and-fast answer to any question you might ask, is a degree in that subject from either institution worth the paper it's printed upon?  Or the skin of a sheep?

Up to you to decide.  And choose to pay for.

My double major is in Psychology and Economics.  From a small college in Missouri.  Neither of those subjects have the "2+2 equal 4" answers to any question likely to be asked.  By anyone, anywhere.  They're just opinions.  But both are considered sciences.  Which, BTW, is why I chose them.  I knew even at the time that the degree I pursued what worth only how much money it could make me.  

As a Liberal arts institution, they made me take English, taught by a woman who had three Phi Beta Kappa keys.  One in English, one it Math, and one in Music.  Her voice was like a bunch of pebbles jangling in a beer can.  Nobody slept in her class.  And she was known especially for having only two dresses.  Worn a week at a time each.  Did reading "Moby Dick," which she required, make me smarter?  No.  Did it make me more hirable?  No.  Or only more Liberally educated?  Yes.  As if that was a goal I was pursuing!  

It was not.  My only goal was to to graduate and get the Hell out.

In all fairness, it might be for some.  Just not for me.  And not now at $90,000 a year at some major universities.  Is it for you and your kids?  That's for you and your banker to decide...  

Yet, when I first visited a recruiter post-graduation, while the ink on the skin of my sheep was still drying, I was hired on the spot by a large New York-based corporation.  At nice money, with a car, an expense account and stock options.  They only cared that I'd had the "sticktoitiveness" to attend, and graduate from, a 4-year institution of higher learning.  The subject did not matter.  The school did not matter.  Never was I ever asked, post-hiring, about anything I was supposed to have learned in my subjects of study.  Or even the name of my alma mater.  They were just interested in how much money I could make them.  Sort of like they do with the Mafia.  How about that?

And I was only interested in how much money I could make from them.  Funny how our expectations coincided.  Something tells me it's still that way.

As a quick recommendation, if your kid is motivated to attend an institution of higher learning, send them to a school that will send them home with a license.  To practice something.  Law, medicine, physical therapy, dentistry, etc.  Anything less is a waste of time and money.  Unless your goal is for your kid to amass information "professed" by a bunch of folks who went to school for the same exact reason.  And are now paid to tell you what they think.  For waaaaay to much money.

You can watch "The View," for free, if that's your goal.   

So here's the bottom line, Fellow Patriots.  Most institutions of higher learning are not worth the powder it would take to blow them to Hell.  They're just collections of overblown stuffed shirt "Professors," who are overly proud of their supposed knowedge.  Which you can learn for yourself by visiting Google should you be so inclined.  And who are riding their degrees to a comfy life of "Professing" stuff to snot-nosed kids who are there because they don't want to drive a truck.  Or fix my broken toilet.  And their daddies have enough scratch to fund it.

The Bottom Line:  College or university is a four-year sentence you serve between high school and life.

Exceppppt, as a Nation we're now short of plumbers.  And electricians.  And carpenters.  And dry wall hangers.  So Capitalism forces us to pay more for those of us in short supply.  (Supply and Demand is the hard and fast rule.  Google it.  Ain't life grand?)  New long-haul Amazon truck drivers are now starting at $175,000 a year.  Electricians at data centers are making $250,000 a year.  To start.  Mike Rowe's company will offer free education in the trades to anyone interested in learning them.  With paychecks offered from Day One.  No paying back student loans.  Farriers (horse shoers) are making $250k a year while enjoying the Great Outdoors.  Daily.  So don't ever tell me your kids are going to school to make money.  They're just trying to avoid becoming Starbucks baristas.  And fixing my toilet.  Okay?  

As far as I'm concerned, your best bet is to send your kids off to the military.  They'll come home older, wiser, smarter and more worldly, and far better educated than they'd be if they went to the University of Wherever.  Then let the Army, or Navy, Marine Corp., or Coast Guard send them off to a higher education, and pay for it.  You won't have to cough up $100,000 or $200,000 for their education.  And they won't be stuck paying it back for decades.  So when they get taught a bunch of useless crap, from a bunch of self-important "Professors," who get paid for passing along their overblown opinions, whether they know anything or not, at least it won't cost an arm and a leg. 

It will be worth exactly what you paid for it:  zero!

(NOTE:  When I used to travel the Country selling stuff to hospitals and doctors, wearing a suit, flying everywhere every single day, while making Major Bank, the person seated next to me would occasionally ask what I did for a living.  I'd respond with, "I majored in animal husbandry, until they caught me at it.")  

Funny how that shuts down all further discussion.  And you can go back to reading your book...

*   The first time I visited Berkeley I was early for my appointment with a doctor.  So I stopped at a coffee shop on the corner just outside the campus.  A guy rolled up on a bicycle, wearing absolutely nothing but a Tam-O-Shanter cap and some tennis shoes.  He got off the bike, parked it, and sat down at a table next to mine.   Completely unbothered by his nakedness, nor concerned that anyone else might be, either.  And guess what?  They weren't!  The waitress took his order and delivered it.  I learned all I needed to know about Berkeley that day.  Both the University and the city.  That was about 50 years ago.  And nothing has changed my opinion about them in the intervening decades.  Except that spending a lot of money on your wardrobe, should you attend the U. of Berkeley, is totally optional...

One of the Very Best Existential Questions;

What if the archeologists are wrong?

Do you follow those TV shows that focus on the Egyptian pyramids and the tombs of the pharoahs?

The ones that tend to question how the pyramids were built and who built them, and when?  Showing the great size and complexity of them, and the difficulty of actually building them in the time we're told they used?

Especially the ones that tell us we couldn't build them today, even if we wanted to?  

Well, Fellow Patriot, me too.  I've been paying attention to them for decades.  Trying to convince myself that they were built when and how we're told.  And by whom we're told.  And I can tell you I'm not convinced at all.  Stone, as you know, cannot be carbon dated.  So we have no idea how old those stone blocks in the pyramids are.  They could be 4,500 years old, as the archeologists tell us, or 12,600 years old, as some others tell us.  Or, there's a guy named Charles Hathcock who has stated they're as much as 100,000 years old.  And he should know.  He's a Harvard-trained professor.  Whose book, "Earth's Shifting Crust," had the foreward written by Albert Einstein.  Who had his book open on his desk the day he died.  So believe what you will, we should at least pay attention to what Albert was thinking.  

The same with the Sphinx.  Dr. Robert Schock, Geologist at Boston University, has told us that the Sphinx was built at least 10,600 years B.C.  It has been weathered by centuries of rainfall, he said.  And the only rainfall of that magnitude fell in Northern Africa at least 7,000 or more years ago.  Back when that area of Egypt was in a moderately wet climate.  Greenbelts were situated across Northern Africa.  The area was saturated with moisture.  With lakes and rivers and streams.  For thousands of years.  Wet enough to have done to the Sphinx what Schock is professing.

And we all know that the pyramids of Giza were covered by Tura limestone, white as pearl and worked down smooth as glass.  It's been removed over the centuries and repurposed by those down through the centuries who wanted it for area mosques and cathedrals.  And with exception of what's left at the very top, leaving only the 2,400 million rough sandstone blocks underneath which we see today.

But there's something that should give us all pause.  Just 3 or 4 steps inside any of the Egyptian pyramids, or the more than 100 burial tombs in the Valley of the Kings 100 miles away, it's as dark as the inside of a cat.  And black, even.  Can't see your hand in front of your face.  And almost devoid of the oxygen necessary to permit a torch to burn and give off light.  Or humans to breathe.  And so we see no smudges on the ceilings of those tombs or pyramids.  And there's no firelight from torches necessary to paint those hieroglyphics we see so perfectly emplaced.

So how could they have seen to produce them?

Nor do we see any evidence of smudges on the ceilings of the pyramids the artists would need to have built?  Or the interior rooms and shafts?  Or the oxygen torches would have needed to light and shine?  So how would these ancient workmen build the Queen's Chamber in the Great Pyramid?  Or the King's Chamber?  Or the various tiny shafts leading outward and upward for hundreds of feet?  You should know that you must first go downward at a 30 degree angle for more than 300 feet as you enter, and then upward for several hundred feet, in order to enter the center of the Great Pyramid.  So how would those have been built without light?  

It sure seems to me they would have needed an artificial lighting source to build those features.  We see a hieroglyph in the Tomb of Hathor at Dendara just down the Nile a bit showing a rather large "light bulb."  With what seems to be a "power cord" running from it to provide the electrical power.  (Google Dendara Light Bulb).  And a stylistic snake to show what would have been the filament.  And what appears to be a power cord plugged into the wall.  See if you don't agree with me.

We know they also had what's been called the "Baghdad Battery."  (Google it).  Which our archeologists have called an early energy source.  Producing some 0.5 volt of electricity.  Which our archeologists surmise were used to electroplate jewelry with gold and silver.  So it's been proposed that a much larger battery of that type, using that technology, in a much larger vessel, could produce enough electricity to have powered that large Dendara lightbulb.  Or so they say.  

Were the pharonic Egyptians starting about 5,000 B.C. more technologically advanced than we've given them credit?  And could they have actually made the pyramids into giant power producing devices?  Such has also been proposed by engineer Christopher Dunn in his 1998 book, "The Giza Power Plant."  He proposes that mixing different chemicals produced hydrogen, which was used as a power source.  And even residual chemicals indicating he may be right.

There's no evidence that these pyramids were tombs of the pharoahs.  Not one single mummy has been found in any of the 103 pyramids we've discovered in Egypt.  Nor a single hieroglyph on the walls.  Yet, once again, we've found evidence of the chemicals used to produce the electricity we think they might have generated (Google it).    

As the genius Nikola Tesla once proposed, electricity could be sent through the air.  He thought the many obelisks were designed to do this.  And he wished to recreate them.  His Wardencliff Tower in New York (Google it) was built to prove that theory.  Except his funding source, the telephone's inventor, one Mr. Alexander G. Bell, was cut off.  Because Tesla wished to provide the power to the people for free.  And Bell was not so generous.  He saw it as a way to get even richer.  Leaving Tesla as poor as a church mouse when Bell pulled the plug.

NOTE:  Tesla died a pauper.  Unlike our Mr. Musk, whi has usurped his name for his cars.

Do I think this is what they were doing?  Perhaps.  I can tell you this: There's no reason to believe that the early pharonic Egyptians actually built the pyramids.  There's every reason to believe they found them already built.  

Just wandered by one day and, WHOOPSIE!  A bunch of pyramids.  Perhaps they were built by the escapees from Atlantis?  Or the Annunaki?  Built by some forgotten society which was long gone.  Just like the Incas found the pyramids in the Valley of Mexico, just north of Mexico City.  (The largest, Teotihuacan, is actually bigger than Giza's Great Pyramid!)  They found them in about the year 1,500, they have said, when what was left of them escaped the Spanish conquistadors in Central America.  Dragging what gold and silver that had yet to be stolen by the Spanish on their backs looking for a new home.  

One thing is certain:  more than 1,000 pyramids, on every continent, including both the Arctic and the Antarctic, we think, were all built at about the same time.  Under the tutelage of presumably the same teachers.  And how would that be possible?  Without them being able to converse with each other? One things' for sure:  They each contain the same basic shape and markings.  From thousands of miles away?

Would the ancient Egyptians have dedicated 20 years to assemble gigantic, nearly 500 foot tall pyramids in which to bury their pharoahs?  Expecially when we know they were burying them 100 miles away in the Valley of the Kings so they wouldn't be found?  After all, burying your Pharoah in a pyramid proclaims to all the grave robbers that the king and his goodies are in that really big thing RIGHT OVER THERE!  

They've found more than 100 tombs in the Valley of the Kings.  In which the great kings of Egypt were buried.  Besides Tutankhamun, Rameses 2 has a tomb there that's more than 300 feet underground.  And more than 4,000 sq. ft. in size.  With hieroglyphs from floor to ceiling, and across those ceilings.  Which presumably no one was supposed to ever see.  And again, there's no smudge marks to indicate they were built under the light of torches.  Isn't it reasonable to asssume they had some artificial light source?  

Wouldn't they have to?

Do yourself a favor.  Google these names and educate yourselves about the pyramids and the Valley of the Kings and Dendara and see what you think.  See if you don't agree with me that there's evidence of a forgotten race.  Or a highly advanced society which could have built these amazing monoliths.  Surely the Pharonic Egyptians couldn't have done so.  (And don't call me Shirley!).  They had no beasts of burden.  They didn't have the wheel.  They only had copper tools, with an MOS-scale hardness of "3," to shape rose granite blocks, which have an MOS-hardness of "8."  So they could not have shaped the gigantic blocks we're told they molded into their desired shapes.  And isn't it even reasonable to assume that the Great Pyramid of Giza was the template they used to try and create more pyramids?  

Instead of working up to the Great Pyramid, pyramid after pyramid, how about they saw it and tried to replacate it over and over?  Without success?

We've produced proof they couldn't have done what our archeologists are telling us they did.  But then we know that our archeologists are slow to change their opinions.  They told us society began in ancient Sumer in Mesopotamia some 6,000 years ago.  Yet, Gobekli Tepi in Southeastern Turkey, discovered 30 years ago, proves that society started 12,600 years ago.  Or perhaps even earlier.  The carbon dating proves it,  Archeologists are doing their best to ignore it, yet there it is.  We see it.  So should they.  But they routinely change the subject when asked.

The archeologists told us when we were in school that modern humans are no more than 30,000 years old.  Yet, we now have proof they're at least 300,000 years old!  And evidence just surfaced in sub-Saharan Africa of 456,000 year old wooden furniture.  And half-million year old hominids built it.  Were they humans?  We don't know.  And our archeologists are doing their best not to investigate it so we cannot find out for sure.

There's also evidence of advanced machining in the production of ancient statues, and buildings, and Earthenware.  Stone vessels made with the thinness of a few human hairs.  Stone, not clay.  Likely diamond drill bits were used.  And computerized controls.  Yet no evidence has been found of any such equipment.  Nor any hieroglyphs descirbing how they were built.  Nor how the pyramids were built!  Why would they keep that a secret?   So the archeologists once again ignore any such investigation.

That means there's time for several societies to have come and gone in our past.  We've only been a technologically advanced society for 200 years.  And we may yet destroy ourselves like others have presumably done in the past.  And we're told a society such as ours would leave no evidence of itself having existed after only about 10,000 years.  Nothing but a thin carbon layer left in the dirt.  Like the ones we're finding right now.  Just imagine how many America-type societies may have come and gone in a half-million years?

Or just imagine how many may be left?

Back to the original question:  Do you see evidence that the ancient Egyptians, or the Mayans, or the Incas, or the Indonesians, or the Indus Valley Indians, had a light source to aid their builders in producing interior artwork?  No?  Yet they did.  We've had smoke blown up our asses our entire lives.  So I believe we should now begin to question everything we've been taught about our past.  With the goal of learning the truth. 

Somebody has to...

An Existential Question:

Have you ever asked yourself why today's kids seem to be so damn dumb?

More than 63% of them say they believe socialism is preferable to Capitalism, and would be happy to give it a try.  Despite gobs of evidence that socialism is the death of countries like ours.  They should have been taught that.  Yet they were taught the opposite.  Why Harvard, charging $90,000 a year, has to dedicate each Freshman year to remedial reading, writing and 'rithmatic so as to get their students up to speed to actually then learn at a university level.  And be ready for their next three years?  And there's evidence the other major colleges and universities do the same.

Why every time you see a kid today, they show us just how uneducated they seem to be?  Why they can't read or write, seem not to be able to communicate successfully, are more interested in video games than working, and believe socialism is "cool?"  

Well, Fellow Patriots, me too.  So I've decided to begin my new "Existential Questions" Series with this one.  And it's surely existential.  For if we get this one wrong as a society, we are over as a free Country.  We become another failed Cuba.  Or China.  Or Argentina.  And I hope I die before that occurs.  

So I decided to put my vaunted research hat on an learn the answer to this question.  Believing that if I didn't know the answer, you might not either.  And we can learn it together.  So here goes.

Did you know that the Los Angeles Unified School District, America's largest, routinely graduates only 56% of its seniors?  

378,500 students and just over half graduate?

And it has an annual budget of more than $20,600,000,000 (With a "B")?  With a shortfall this year of $1.6 Billion?  A shortfall?  $20 Billion isn't enough?  Have they "gone to school" on America and its $40 Trillion Dollar debt?  Knowing they can simply ask for more tax money to keep it going?  

And with 1,530 schools, it somehow (mis)manages to push through hundreds of thousands of students who cannot read or write?  Rendering those who cannot graduate ready to take their place in society as permanent members of street gangs?  As perhaps their only means of financial support.  If you live in Lost Angeles and have kids, you better consider home schooling or plan to move away real soon...

Oh yeah, Lost Angeles is now famous for more of its citizens moving away now that moving in.  L.A. has more exmigration than any other major city in America!  Those citizens have learned that staying in L.A. and sending their kids to school there is a recipe for failure.

Did you know that the NEA, our "National Education Association," has more than 3,000,000 members?  And Rebecca (Becky) Pringle, the NEA's President, has an annual salary of $365,708?  And with benefits added in, another $149,047, she brings home more than $514,000 a year?  In fact, the entire management staff of the NEA, and its Board, make more than $350,000 a year.  

So consider that with the annual dues of its members, which average only about $79,000 a year in salaries, is more than $160.00 each.  Taxation without representation!  

And the AFT, or "American Federation of Teachers," has more than One milion Eight Hundred Thousand members.  Each of whom are matching the nearly $160.00 a year of the NEA in dues.  Randi Weingarten, its President, makes $514,000 a year.  And so does all its Board and management staff.  You'd think these members would at least vote in a parent, right?  Wrong.  Randi has no kids.  Making one wonder what she's doing there.  Oh yeah, visit their website and you'll know exactly what she's doing there.  And it's not improving the education of our kids! 

You'd think these two enormous publicly-funded unions, the two largest in America, and the $Hundreds of Millions of our Tax Dollars we give them, guarantee us an excellent education for their students, right?  WRONG-O!  They have nothing to do with educating their students!  They only focus on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion!  On race hustling.  And LGBTQ2S++ issues.  And Transgender support.  And exclusively focusing on Liberal issues.  Never on Conservative ones.  In fact, 99% of all their political donations, both of them, go to the Democrat Party.  Almost none to Republicans.  And their websites proudly say so.  And it's no secret.  That's why they're there.  And ONLY why they're there!  

So the two largest publicly-funded unions in America have no interest in improving the education of our kids.  Only in getting Democrats elected.  And hoping that those Democrats they vote in are transgender Black gay dwarves who will only vote Democrat.  

And we as a Nation put up with that?  That's what we permit to happen?  Did you know that?

I started this blog entry with an Existential Question:  Why are today's kids so damn dumb?  We now know the answer.  A large percentage of those who teach them seem to have little or no interest in improving our kids' education!  With three-fourths of my daughters involved in teaching the young minds seated in their classrooms, I know it's not every teacher.  Maybe not even the majority of our teachers lean Liberal, or even socialist.  But far too many...DO!  

Who taught our teachers that Liberalism is the only way?  Who taught our teachers to be mad at America, and to pass it along to today's students?  Who taught our teachers that DEI and LGBTQyadayada and Transgenderism are the preferable way?  That they should proudly display the rainbow flag in their classrooms?  And who taught our teachers that they should wave the flag of socialism and Marxism and communism?  And who taught our teachers that they should teach our students to be as disaffected with our Country as they are?  

Far too many of the students going through school today are puked forth on our highways and byways every year unable to earn a living.  Not smart enough to get a job.  Not knowing what they need to know to become productive citizens and members of our society.  While the management of the teachers unions swim in the cash we Taxpayers provide.  They do not seem to give a good goddam about the sorry state of our education sysem!  They only seem to care about themselves.  And we are standing by and allowing it!  

What the Hell happened to my America?

So here's my closing Existential Question:  Now that you know the truth, what are you gonna' do about it?