Wounded Warriors. Be ashamed. Be very ashamed.

You're watching TV.  The music starts.  Trace Adkins begins to sing.  "Say a prayer for peace," he croons.  And I get sick to my stomach...


No doubt you've had the chance to see the many commercials on cable TV asking for an ongoing contribution of $19.00 a month to help pay for the care and treatment of our Wounded Warriors.  These are the hero soldiers, marines and sailors who have been hurt defending our honor and our homeland against enemies foreign and domestic.  And these are the brave citizens who've been relegated to a kind of Hell because our Country has so far refused to pay all, or sometimes even a portion, of the cost of their treatment.


$19.00 a month.  That's what Wounded Warrior Project  wants you to donate (supportwwp.org).  And you should.  But only because our Government chooses not to step up and pay the true costs of the physical, mental and emotional care our brave boys and girls require.


It fries me that our Country can spent billions, billions, to teach shrimp to jog on a treadmill.  To find out why Chinese prostitutes smoke so much.  To give billions more in aid to terrorist countries who wish us dead.  And to send our First Family all over the world on numerous, pricey, millionaire vacations (as this is written Michelle O and her extended family are occupying an $8,300 a night suite in Beijing).  But we can't seem to afford, or conjure up the gumption to prioritize expenditures for, the treatment of our wounded vets.  To paraphrase Michelle, "For the first time in my adult life I'm ashamed to be an American." 


I served.  Many friends my age served.  But our country's decision to do away with the draft almost 40 years ago, coupled with its cowardly predilection to no longer declare wars (everything since Korea was a "police action"), has left us with a professional cadre of all volunteer war-fighters. 


That means that since the first invasion of the Gulf War, Operation Desert Shield, we've had literally hundreds of thousands of soldiers enlist and serve.  But that number represents barely 3% of our total population.  That means that those who spend their time shopping at the mall, or attending school, or working at the lumberyard, or watching Jerry Springer reruns, for example, do so safely only because of the selfless service of those who choose to be deployed for 5, 6, 7 or even 8 times halfway around the world in some toilet of a country, which for the most part doesn't appreciate our investment of blood and treasure.  What a shame.


And then there are those who are blown up by IEDs.  Or shot by a goat herder who whipped out an AK-47 and blew off his arm while our soldier was trying to help.  Or even those plagued by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because of exposure to things the human mind should never have to witness.    


And those poor folks wind up begging to receive services from the VA and waiting for years, years without success.  And then suffer the indignation of having their pensions, health benefits and perks cut by a Government more focused on buying votes with discretionary spending from The Uninformed.   


Forget me.  Our Country should be ashamed of itself.  And until those commercials stop running because America finally steps up and spends the time, effort, energy and money to help those who've given nearly their all for us, I ask that you hold all politicians at fault, from infamous military-hater Obama on down.  Please remember that on Election Day.  And if given the chance, please ask one or more of them what their posture is on this all-important question.  Please.


$19.00 a month.  For shame...

What's to stop us?

Yesterday, Sunday, the Crimean Ukrainians voted to secede from their current country and join hands once again with Mother Russia.


Most American pundits were guessing that the vote would come in at the 80%-range (guns pointed at your head can be a strong motivator to vote the way Mr. Puteen wants you to!).  They were wrong.  The final vote was 97% in favor of drinking wodka and eating borscht.  Funny, since there was no "no" box to check, it's surprising it wasn't a big fat 100%.  Oh wait, 100% votes only occur in North Korea.


But, Mr. Oblamo, our feckless Insurance Salesman-in-Chief, has said their doing so has crossed another of his infamous "red lines."  You know, the ones written in crayon?  It seems nobody on the world's stage either respects or fears our boy POTUS.  And that's why they are all beginning to take advantage of him, and therefore, us. 


That got me to thinking.  If the world is unprepared to do anything but issue strong warnings, or nasty letters, or UN resolutions that Russia vetoes, then we have a rare opportunity.  We could invade Canada without fear of retribution!


Canada, as you may know, is asset-rich and population-poor.  There are far more people residing tax-free in Texas, as an example, than in Canada.  And yet Canada is half-again larger than America.  And it has oil.  And gas.  And wheat.  And rodeos.  And Sikh cab drivers (Sikh and ye shall find!  Heh, heh).  And also French-speaking, cheese-eating surrender monkeys living in and around Quebec.  But none of them present much of a threat should we decide to unleash what's left of our hollowed-out, defunded, depressed military and simply grab them up while the grabbing is good.


Yes, dear friends, we could more than double the size of our country, nearly double the size of our oil and gas reserves, and increase the "nice-factor" of our population by several magnitudes.  I'm guessing we could accomplish this little coup without bloodshed.  Only a few really rabid western Canadians would even whimper should we undertake such an action.  And we could give each of them a ranch or something to keep them quiet. 


And just think.  We'd no longer have to suffer the indignation of having to cull through Canada's leftover hockey players to bolster our teams.


And, while we're at it, what's to prevent us from gobbling up Meheeko as well?  Most of them are living here anyway, so there's nobody home there but the druggies to stop us.  And they'd probably welcome our intervention since they sell most of their crap north of El Frontera anyway.


What do you think?  Is this a rare opportunity, or what?  I propose a referendum election to give the Canucks and the Meheekanos a chance to voice their opinion on the subject in advance of the invasion.  Plus, we could film it as it happens, giving us a kind of "Red Dawn" sequel we could show at the local Bijou.  Got to make a little cash out of this if we can, right?  


I suggest we put Little Mikey Moore in charge of this project.  After all, we know just how accurate his filmed musings really are, right?


Since I just learned how popular my little blog has become worldwide, I'm hoping one of the onesie-clad weenie drones in the basement of the White House will read of my suggestion, and not only put in on the official "list of things to do" (just before the next Beyoncé concert, just after the next golf game), but maybe put me in charge of it. 


I await their NSA-monitored phone call...

"Gunfight," Part Deux

I'm pleased to report that there were many, many positive comments from throughout the known Internet-verse to my recent posting, "Gunfight at the NoK Corral."


Apparently, there are those of you who can read English, understand that the Bill of Rights comes only as a Set of Ten, were raised by parents and not wolves, believe that it's quite okay to work for a living and don't think it's your neighbor's obligation to keep you in food, clothing, shelter and birth control pills (Sandra Fluke, are you listening?).


Congratulations to the both of you.


(Actually, that was a little joke.  Heh, heh.)


However, there were a few who did not appreciate my scholarly review of the available literature on the subject. 


Despite my invitation to refute my facts with facts of their own, they piped right up, choosing to vilify me, your humble servant, instead.  The Philistines!  They actually believe (cough, cough) that "Assault Rifles," whatever the Hell they are, kill just scads of people.  SCADS!  They believe those scary black guns should be banished.  Banished, do you hear me? 


The poor, misguided souls.


Yes friends, I know you send your best wishes along to them as they attempt to lift themselves from the depths of disillusionment and join the ranks of the learned.  Perhaps extended rehab would help.  And, having some time on my hands, I've made it my mission in life to help them in that process.  Don't thank me.  That's why God put me here.


So here goes...


Astonishingly, some folks just believe that guns are inherently bad.  They just don't want to believe that guns are tools, like a garden rake, a Louisville Slugger or a pickup truck.  No, they'd prefer to believe that guns come equipped with the sound track to "The Sopranos," looking hither, thither and yon for bullets to load themselves with and somebody to shoot.  They want to believe that if we'd just eliminate guns, then nobody would die.  Well, you poor schlubs, here are the latest statistics for you to try and wrap your addled heads around.  And, I'm    typing    as    slowly    as    I    can    so    you    will    understand.  Ready?  Cue the music...


                                       FACTS: 


            Murders with Rifles:   Murders with hammers/clubs:


2005:               445                                   605
2006:               438                                   618
2011:               323                                   496


Surprised?  I thought you'd be.


Another interesting little factoid:  According to the FBI, more people are killed each year by hands and fists than are killed by murderers using rifles.  Who woulda' thunk it?


Kinda' hard to outlaw hands and fists, isn't it?  But that doesn't mean Obama/Holder/Feinstein/Bloomberg won't try.


And as of this writing, a gang of ten Chinese thugs just finished murdering 29 and injured 150 or more at a train station in Shanghai.  With knives.  Knives!  Shall we go to school on this massacre and institute a massive new, full-bore, all-out program to outlaw knives?  


Maybe we should simply declare that this massacre was caused by "Assault Knives."  We could get the Brady Campaign involved, ask Mikey Bloomberg for some spare cash to mount an anti-knife PR campaign, then do a modified "Fast and Furious" deal and ship some assault knives to cartel members south of El Frontera hoping one might wind up at an American crime scene.  Ludicrous?  Thank you. 


Actually, you might like to know that your doctor is far more likely to kill you than any gun.  According to Mike Adams, Editor of "NaturalNews.com," 19,766 of the total 31,940 gun deaths in 2011 were suicides.  So the actual number of deaths resulting from some errant soul blasting a hole in you on purpose or by accident was a grand total of 12,174!


Doctors, on the other hand, kill an average of 783,936 people a year, which is 64 times higher than that gun death number above.  Your family doctor, if you still have one (unlikely, right Obama?), doesn't shoot you with bullets.  They shoot you with chemo, vaccinations and prescribed drugs.  Waaaaay more deadly than guns.


Let's do the math.  There are 700,000 doctors in America, minus the ones who just retired because of Obamacare while I was writing this, versus the 100,000,000 gun owners in our fine Country.  The Big Question is how do 700,000 doctors manage to kill nearly 800,000 people, more than one per physician, when 100 Million gun owners only manage to kill a bit more than 12,000? 


I would surmise, my dear friends, that owning a gun is monumentally safer than practicing medicine, or even being near anyone who does!   Does a doctor live on your block?  Go immediately into the basement and cover yourself up with grandma's comforter.


Oh, and in closing, I'd like to shoot (sorry) some statistics your way.  According to that august publication, "the Economist," your chance of dying by a firearm assault is one in 25,000.  You are far more likely to die by "intentional self-harm," an accidental injury or a heart attack.  Phillip Seymour Hoffman could have learned something from that last statistic. 


And the good news?  You are far more likely to be killed while walking, choking or falling down the stairs than by a gunshot.  The author didn't compute the odds against dying by a gunshot while choking and falling down the stairs. 


Actually, due to that choking thing, I'm guessing a toasty hot cruller is far more dangerous than a .357 Magnum.


You are "least likely" to be killed by an asteroid impact (74,817,414 to 1), fireworks, (50,729,141 to 1) or a bee sting (25,364,571 to 1). 


So, my liberal, illogical, singularly-focused gun-hating friends, I would end this little posting with the following admonition:  Go to a nearby gun range with a buddy who knows how to handle a weapon.  There are lots of them out there, even in this, the once-Golden State.  Learn a few safety tips and then dig right in.  Enjoy the pure pleasure of punching some holes in paper targets.  Regale in the freedom to exercise one of your God-given Rights.  Hear the rhythmic "pop, pop" of your weapon.  Enjoy the smell of burning power.  Finally understand that old saying, "God made men and women, Sam Colt made them equal."  And then go home and right down on a piece of paper 500 times:


                       I will never be stupid again. 
                       I will never be stupid again. 
                       I will never be stupid again.  
                       Etc., etc., etc.


Oh, and let me close with a quote from a guy who's name you might recognize:  


"A free people ought not only to be armed and disciplined, but they should have sufficient arms and ammunition to maintain a status of independence from anyone who might attempt to abuse them, which would include their government."


                              George Washington,
                              Founding Father, First President


I'm assuming you've heard of him.  I hope I haven't overestimated you.


Am I at all certain that this last little bit of additional logic will sway the truly fanatical, glassy-eyed, vacuous, lockstep, pro gun-control minority?  Ummm, no. 


Unfortunately.

Minimum Wage Demogoguery

Our Insurance Salesman-in-Chief is trying to change the subject.


The roll-out of his (Un)Affordable Care Act was so crappy, so ridiculously poor, so Godawfully flawed, and so never-in-history-bad that the Dems are afraid they'll lose the Senate come November.  And, by God, they hopefully will.  Our Country was sold a bill of goods with Obamacare, and the chickens, as Reverend Wright likes to say, are coming home to roost. 


So Obama, ever the champion of avoiding the blame, for anything, ever, EVER, is hoping that pointing to that shiny object over there will take America's attention away from Obamacare.  And that shiny object du jour is chiding American lawmakers into raising the Federal minimum wage. 


The minimum wage now stands at $7.25.  Oblamo wants to raise it to $10.10.  Where he got that strange number is unknown.  My supposition is that he simply snatched it out of the sky, where he gets the rest of his weird ideas.  Maybe while playing golf.  And now he's traveling to safe Blue States to bang the drum.  He's trying to paint Republicans who don't share his populist message, as being anti-poor, anti-underclass, anti-women, anti-gay, anti-American, anti-midget, anti-Chevrolet and anti-apple pie.  Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth (truth being something with which Oblamo and his cadre of sycophants is completely unfamiliar).


Republicans are for market-driven solutions.  They don't believe it's in America's best interest to dictate to small businesses everywhere how much and how often they should use their scarce resources to reward minimum wage, just-starting-out earners.  After all, it's none of the Federal Government's business how much a business pays its workers.  Or even if they pay them.  Americans vote with their feet.  If a business doesn't pay enough, and you deserve more, then move along to one that does.  That's the beauty of capitalism. 


The un-anointed might ask, "What's the big deal?  It's just a couple of bucks an hour, right?"


Wrong.  Here, Mr./Mrs./Ms./Other America, is what's the big deal:


The average McDonald's, as an example, employs 50.1 part-time employees.  They used to employ a mix of full- and part-timers, but no longer.  Obamacare's 29 hour threshold for full-time consideration (after 30, they must be given health care...perish the thought) did away with that.  And with it, ten hours a week an employee could expect to work.  Now, they have nothing but part-timers.  Thank you, Mr. Oblamo.


Mickey D's franchisee's pay their people an average of $8.09 an hour.  So, an average of, let's say, 25 people working at any given time, times the $2 increase Barry wants, equals about $50 an hour.  Multiply that times Mickey's average workday of 18 hours.  That works out to an additional cost of operation to a Mickey D business owner of more than nine  hundred bucks a day!   That's nearly sixty three hundred bucks a week!  More than $300,000 a year!  And it would be more for a franchisee who chose, chose, to pay his folks more, or for those restaurants who stay open more hours per day (a significant minority).  And more, again, if you factor in increased costs for matching employer contributions.  So let's just say that the average Mickey's would lose nearly one-half million dollars per year!


Put simply, the increase Oblamo wants the Mickey D's guys to cough up is quite a bit more than they make off their store.  That would bankrupt a store owner.  They just can't sell that many more Big Macs.  It would also cause people not to want to franchise with McDonald's.  Or Wendy's.  Or Burger King, KFC, Panda Express, Dairy Queen, CPK, etc., etc., etc.


Or ACE Hardware, or your local car wash, or the area mom-and-pop pizza store, or your video rental parlor, or your friendly mechanic.  Or, virtually anyone who tries to own and operate a small business in your home town.  Hmmm.


So, Barry's populist wet dream would put America into a depression.  Of course, if he knows this, he doesn't care.  Presumably, he has folks working for him that know this, and have probably told him, but  I'm guessing he's counting on nothing happening regarding this wealth redistribution scheme.  The Repubs will balk at this B.S. plan.  Then he can blame them for keeping entry-level workers from receiving a much-needed handout.  Those hard-hearted bastards!   They should be punished!


It should be noted that 80% of those who entered the workforce in the bottom quintile finish up their careers in higher income categories.  And, note also that one in eight people in America started out by working at a McDonald's!  If McDonald's didn't exist, where would all those people begin their careers?  Where would little Johnnie and Julie get a job to earn enough to put gas in the family car to get them back and forth to junior college?


Oh wait.  I hear the high-pitched voice of a wussified weenie out there in Internetland screaming that there's another option to keep America's small businesses from going out of business.  They could just raise their prices enough to offset the increased costs associated with keeping Oblamo happy, right?  Yeah, that's the ticket!  Just raise their prices!  Let's see.  A Big Mac would cost, oh, let's say $8.00.  Not including fries.  Or a drink.  Order up a meal and you'd be paying about twelve bucks!  And nobody would be buying.  America would wean itself off fast foot mach schnell.  And the small businesses would still be out of business.  It would just take a bit longer to get there.  And it would bankrupt legions of small business owners in the process.  Talk about an unhappy meal!


Now you know how politics works.  The Dems want you to think they're on your side while they kowtow to enviro-whacko tree-huggers, union thugs, like-minded Mainstream Media cohorts, room-temperature-I.Q. slackers, and commie, pinko, dumbass liberals.  That's so you'll vote to put them in office, or keep them there, while America burns.  Still think it's a good idea to redistribute your local video rental guy's money to increase the minimum wage?


This whole thing would be funny, if it wasn't so tragic... 

Gunfight at the NoK Corral

I recall fondly those Saturday nights during my youth.  I would strap on my nifty leather quick draw outfit, make sure my nickel plated cap pistols were oiled up and at the ready, and count down the minutes until 8:00 p.m. rolled around.  And then, all the drama would unfold...


Marshal Matt Dillon would haul his lanky, six foot-five self into the middle of the dusty Dodge City main street.  The camera would take its position looking directly through his legs at the cowboy dressed in black down the street.  The music would stop and the cowboy would go for his gun.  Dillon, being ever the Fair and Balanced marshal, would wait until the other guy slapped leather to pull his Colt .45 and drill the poor fellow right between the running lights.  And I would draw as well, faster than either Dillon or the cowboy.  I would blow the "smoke" from the barrels of my harmless pistols and twirl them with a flurry back into the gunbelt from whence they came. 


Cue the music, and yet another episode of the iconic western "Gunsmoke" would begin, with my face about 2 feet from the old black and white Dumont TV, on my knees, watching rapturously.


As a kid born and raised in the Midwest, where most young guys like me were issued a .22 single shot rifle at the age of 8 or so, and went hunting and fishing year round, guns were a part of my life, and theirs.  My dad taught me to shoot, and to be a proud outdoorsman.  He was a crack shot and taught me to be the same.  In fact, I was a certified gunsmith by the age of 13 and built custom varmint rifles on order for local hunters.  I was an avid gun collector, amassing more than 50 rifles, shotguns and pistols by the time I was in my twenties (the "Greetings" from POTUS necessitated my selling them off). 


I shot trap and skeet, 50 foot, 50 yard, 100 yard and 1,000 yard NRA open sight pistol and rifle courses and was a member of two quick-draw clubs, bringing my earlier experiences with Mr. Dillon and his foil to a reality. 


My early training did me well as I posted the highest score in the history of the Army's Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri rifle range at 998 out of 1,000 points.  I went on to teach rifle and pistol marksmanship during my military years and enjoyed every minute of it.  I also became somewhat of an expert on the Old West in general, and in "High Noon" shootouts in particular.  And that, my friends, is the subject of today's posting.


Considering all the of the cowboy TV shows and movies during the 50's, 60's and 70's, and the fact that they all were chocked full of shootouts between the good guys (white hats) and the bad guys (black hats), the uninformed could be forgiven for assuming that the Old West was as dangerous as our current day Chicago.  And they would be wrong.


The Old West was far safer than all but a few of our safest U.S. cities is today.  A careful scanning of Old West newspapers reveals that there were a total, a total, of perhaps a dozen classic High Noon-style shootouts over the entire period. 


From the 1850's through the 1890's, the generally accepted Old West period, classic, squared-off, go-for-your-guns shootouts were a rarity.  The average Old West city, in fact, had an average of one and one-half deaths per year by gunfire each.  So why did the cowboy shows feature gunplay so prominently?  Because it would be pretty boring to show life as it actually was.  So what was the truth?


There were almost no shootouts because everybody was armed!  Cowboys needed guns to protect themselves from Indians, crooks, animals and each other.  Oh, and to drive nails into fence posts on which to hang barbed wire.  Everybody wore a pistol and most had a rifle in a scabbard on their saddle.  As such, one could say that an armed society was a polite society.  And so it is today.


Flash forward to 2014.  Last year the number of concealed carry pistol permits increased 30% in Florida.  And the gun crime rate there fell by 30%.  Hmmm.  Do you think there might be some connection between those two statistics? 


The rate of crime in Florida is at an all time low.  Of Florida's 20,000,000 people, 1,000,000 are CCW licensees.  Bad guys don't know which prospective victim is armed, but they know there are a lot of them.  With a one in 20 ratio, their odds aren't so good.  So, they don't engage in classic illegal activities which might result in them getting their bad selves all shot up. 


In California, on the other hand, almost no one gets to carry.  Maybe one in a thousand is (legally) packing heat.  We citizens of California can thank those near-ocean county sheriff's who choose not to offer CCW privileges.  Or, maybe they're just too damn stupid to read the plain English in which the 2nd Amendment is written.


Nor are they afforded that Constitutional privilege in New York.  Or Connecticut, Maryland, Illinois, Massachusetts, or a dozen other Democrat-run states.  And in those states gun crime is rampant.  But, with the exception of Chicago, Detroit, Baltimore and Philly, not as rampant as it used to be. 


And while we're on the subject of Chicago, our Insurance-Salesman-in-Chief's home town, 532 poor souls were offed last year due to gunfire.  Chicago.  The most restrictive gun laws in America are in Chicago.  And it has our Nation's highest gun death rate.  Maybe there's a correlation there also, yes?


A new FBI report says that violent crime continues to fall precipitously nationwide, which might annoy liberals because gun purchases continue to rise.  Gun crimes are down an astounding 50% over the past twenty years, during which the number of guns increased by a like amount.  That's because those of us in the know, know that our POTUS is the most gun-hating Prez in our Country's history.  He's on record as saying that said that, if he could, he'd confiscate all our guns.  Why?  I think it's Rule Number Six in Saul Alinsky's "Rules for Radicals," written by Obama's mentor, which states you've got to disarm the population before you can fully control them.  And all you have to do is look around and you'll see the almost daily new assaults on our freedom which are designed to control us.


Oh, and let's us not slight California's Senator "Lady Di" Feinstein.  She's even more direct in stating that gun confiscation is her dream.  So is New York's Gov Andrew Cuomo's.  His hastily enacted "SAFE Act," following fast on the heels of Sandy Hook, was designed to disarm New Yorkers.  It didn't work.  What it did do was chase out New York's famed gun manufacturers such as Ithaca and Remington Arms.  More are sure to follow.


A bit more circumspect are the Governors of Connecticut, Delaware, Massachusetts, Maryland and Colorado.  They want your guns, but they're too smart to actually say it in so many words (wouldn't want to anger Democrat hunters, now would we?). 


In fact, I would opine that all of America's Democrat governors would just love to eradicate the 2nd Amendment.  They would be quite content if we had no way at all of protecting ourselves from their socialist onslaughts.  But Obama, aided by his socialist Attorney General Eric Holder, and dimbulb legislators like Dem Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, Dem Senator Dickey Durbin and Dem House Minority Leader San Fran Nan Pelosi, is by far the worst.  Take a look at Operation "Fast and Furious,"  by way of which a couple of thousand "assault weapons," which you paid for, were slow-walked across the border to Mexican drug cartels, if you need proof.  


Obama has so far failed to enact more restrictive gun laws, despite the furor resulting from the Sandy Hook massacre.  But he'll keep trying.  And we'll keep buying. 


In the first six months of 2013, murders fells by 7% compared with the same period of 2012.  Aggravated assaults fell by 6.6% and robberies are down by 1.8%.  "All the offenses in the violent crime category - murder and non-negligent manslaughter, forcible rape, aggravated assault and robbery - showed decreases when compared with data from the first six months of 2012," according to the FBI.  Overall, violent crime fell by 5.4%.  Burglary, larceny and auto theft also declined markedly.  And gun background checks are at an all time high.  December, 2013's background checks were double the same period in the previous year.  Apparently, there are others besides me who are buying in a frenzy believing that Obama and his minions will be coming for our weapons just as soon as they figure out how.  And we'll be ready for him, or for whomever rises up in his place.


Who out there in Internet Land would doubt that the more guns there are, the lower the crime rate will be?


So, I say again.  More guns = less crime!  It was true in the Old West, and it's true now.  100 Million Americans own more than 300 Million guns.  And where the guns are concentrated, such as in Texas, Arizona, Oklahoma, Louisiana, etc., the crime rate drops like a stone. 


Argue against that, you gun-hating weenies!    

Important Annoouncement

Did you hear?  Last Sunday Michael Sam, Missouri all-American Football player, and for-sure (maybe) NFL player-to-be, came out of the closet, wherever that famous closet is, and announced he's gay.


Almost immediately First Lady Michelle Obama tweeted to Mr. Sam.  She stated that she "couldn't be prouder" of him.  She praised his "courage."  She signed the tweet "Mo," which we're told is how she signs tweets she personally sends.


And then "Sheriff" Joe Biden tweeted as well, once again praising Mr. Sam's courage.  He was proud as well.  How nice.  He signed his tweet with "VP," which we're told is proof that he personally sent it.  


Now I don't know about you, but I wasn't aware that the White House paid such close attention to admissions of personal matters such as sexual predilections.  I guess they must have a staff of hundreds who pore through newspapers, and tweets, and emails, and texts, and Instagrams to find anything of interest so they can digitally applaud those actions they find courageous.  Well Mo, and VP, here's an announcement you will find interesting.  I await your tweet...


Okay world, I am a heterosexual!  There, I said it.  I'm courageous.  Let's see if Mo or the VP are proud.  Do they care?  Something tells me they won't.  Watch the news.  You'll learn immediately if their tweeter gets going... 

On Turning Seventy...

70.  70?  70! 



I just turned 70.  Yes, I know it's hard to fathom, but I did, in fact, turn the big SEVEN OOOOOOOH! 


How in the Hell did this happen?  I'm just a 25 year-old residing in an old man's body, who's spent the majority of his life having a good time, staying out late, drinking too much, shooting pool, playing poker, racing cars, running women, doing whatever seemed like a good thing to do at the time, and hoping to shove off the blame for whatever negative thing that may have happened to me or anyone else as a result of my actions onto whoever happened to be around at the time.


But now I'm here.  And I'm in a reflective mood.  I realize that I've passed over the top of the hill and am spending toward the bottom of the other side at an ever increasing rate.  And so, despite the fact that I've punched a hole in the bottom of the floorboard and am sticking my heels out the hole and digging them into the asphalt to slow down the inevitable, I thought it might prove enlightening to those who have not as yet achieved (achieved?) this lofty age to offer up some thoughts as to the impact of such an achievement. 



Sit down, pour a stiff drink and contemplate;


-  Turning 70 means I can't run as fast or jump as high as I once did.  Of course, who in Hell would want to?  Running?  Jumping?  For what?  If running and jumping seem appropriate at the moment, I'll hire it done.


-  Turning 70 means the hair in my ears grows much faster than that on top of my head.  That actually bothers my hair guy (barber? stylist?) much more than it does me.  Of course, my hair guy proudly claims to be my fifth daughter, but that's another story.


-  Turning 70 means I know everything I did when I was younger and thought I was smart, plus everything I've learned since growing older.  The sum of the two is enormous!  What to do with it now, children, is the question.


-  Turning 70 means I now know how couples can stay together for thirty or forty or fifty years.  First their eyesight goes, and then their hearing.  Don't thank me.  It's why God put me here.


-  Turning 70 means sleeping through the night is something no longer to be enjoyed.  That's because you've got to get up and pee somewhere around 3:00 a.m.  And then again about 5:00.  Enlarged prostates do that to you.


- Turning 70 means I suffer fools more poorly than I once did.  Don't come around me spouting useless crap and expect me to sit down and listen rapturously with an interested look on my face.  Won't happen.


-  Turning 70 means I can do exactly what I want to, when I want to, and nobody, nobody, can do anything about it.  What are they going to do?  Threaten me with jail?  Jail, where you three hots and a cot, and free health care better than Obamacare can possibly deliver, all the cable channels and probably the best gym that the ACLU could sue them into providing?    


- Turning 70 means I can't watch TV without the volume being at near max.  Of course, that angers my wife, but what else is new?  We have seven big screens in seven rooms.  She can pick any one she wants and take a hike.


-  Turning 70 means I now have come to realize that dumbass commie pinko liberal weenies, or Progressives, as they call themselves, have no sense of humor, whatsoever.  Anytime I make fun of them, or the Lib gods they pray to, they get all pissed off!  And I laugh out loud!  Great fun!  Keep it up, weenies!  The madder you get the more I'll write.  Accept it or bear the consequences.

-  Turning 70 means it can take about the same amount of time to get from the bedroom to the kitchen for a cuppa' coffee as it used to take me to shower, dress and go to the 7/11 for a six-pack.


-  Turning 70 means my favorite cocktail is a glass of really good Cabernet and a Vicodin.  Or two.  Or three.  Make that two Vicos. 


-  Turning 70 means rearranging the tools in my tool chest is getting closer to the top of my list of things to do.  It's not there yet, but it's getting closer.


-  Turning 70 means that I consider vacuuming to be exercise.  I used to consider exercise exercise.  Now I consider making coffee, calling my illegal alien gardener to mow the lawn, cleaning and polishing my guns, doing the laundry (yes, I do it), or scooping out the effluvia at the bottom of the fireplace as exercise.  What, you got a problem with that?


-  Turning 70 means washing my car is something for somebody else to do.  I really wish I could wash my car these days.  I can't.  I'm over it.  Now, I consider getting my car washed as my way of redistributing some of my minuscule wealth to my little brown cousins from South of The Border.


-  Turning 70 means finally getting my arms around the idea that our elected legislators can pass gobs of laws without ever reading them, run guns to drug lords south of El Frontera, waste most of a Trillion Dollars trying to make power using the sun and the wind while demonizing God's blessing of almost an inexhaustible supply of oil and gas, weaponize the IRS to punish their political enemies and get no scrutiny, none, from the so-called "Mainstream Media," which is a joke.  And a Blue State Governor can hire folks who cause a traffic jam on a bridge and it's the End Of The World!


-  Turning 70 means I used to think that Black People were considered by some to be second class citizens.  Now, with a Black President, a Black Attorney General, a Black NASA Director, a mostly Black cabinet, and a Black Oprah Friggin' Winfrey Billionairess, I'm wondering if maybe it's white people who have been relocated to the back of the bus.  Disagree?


-  Turning 70 means it's not okay to shoot somebody but it's quite okay to stab someone with a knife.  On the day of the Sandy Hook massacre, a crazed Chinese guy killed 21 people with a knife.  He was probably one of the 200,000 people locked up in factory making I-Phones and went completely bonkers.  But nobody said a word.  And in the past several weeks there have been two instances of knifing murders after football games.  Nobody said a word.  Why, I ask rhetorically, are there politicians clamoring for gun control, but nobody's clamoring for knife control?  Hmmmm.


-  Turning 70 means I can eat exactly what I want, any time I want.  Watch my diet?  Why?  Would it lengthen my life?  I'm already much older than I ever thought possible, so why not go straight to the French fries, burgers, pizza and anything fried and fattening?  Plus, a really big choco rocky road sundae.  I'm there.  The way I figure it, watching my diet might add a couple of years to my eerily shortening life.  That means I might be issued a silver-plated drool cup at the old age home while I waste away to nothingness.


-  And finally, turning 70 means I get the opportunity to write this posting, hoping it will cause some to chuckle, and some to fume and fuss.  And thank God for the chance to do so.  Thanks kiddies, now go back to what ever you were doing...