September 27, 2016

About last night

Let me first of all recognize my bias. I believe know Hillary Clinton is a liar, corrupt and represents the worst in American politics. I disagree with every aspect of her leftist big government political philosophy.

I find it amazing that Trump was asked about his taxes, his bankruptcies, his business dealings, and stop and frisk policy proposal while the moderator not once asked about Clinton's emails, Benghazi, or the Clinton Foundation.

I have no issue with Lester Holt bringing up these issues with Trump. But this attempt to whitewash these very troubling aspects of the Democrat is disgusting.

For the record, about 20 minutes of that farce is all I could stand.

September 26, 2016

Now What?

OK. I will accept your position at face value. You are kneeling or raising a hand in protest of a racially suppressed America. You want to draw awareness. Done.

Now what? Protest without plan or purpose is just a temper tantrum. If your version of America is unjust, then what do you do about it? Do you want to disband the police in every community? Do we empty the prisons and abolish the courts? Is unbridled anarchy the end game? Tell me how you will fix it. Without solutions your protest is just another jump-on-the-bandwagon social trend as meaningless as last year's dump the water on your head challenge. You get your  participation ribbon, but that is about it. What is the plan?

If you want real discussion then we have to discuss black on black crime. We have to discuss welfare. We have to discuss culture and drugs and gangs.

If you want a true color blind society then we have to discuss discarding the United Negro College Fund,. We have to abolish admittance and hiring policies that allow racial preferences for certain minorities. We have to quit talking about reparations for people who were never slaves paid by people who never owned another human.

I do know that rioting and looting is not protest. I know that taking to the streets without facts in hand is just vigilante mob rule. I know that every time a criminal is held up as an example of everything that is wrong about America your credibility is weakened. I know every time you regale me with "hands up, don't shoot" I know you are uniformed, ignorant, and a fool.

I'm bored with your protest. You have become that guy carrying "the world is ending" sign. You are the Marlon Brando character in "The Wild Ones": "What are you rebelling against?"

"What have you got.".

You don't expect a repair man to merely tell you your car or appliance is broken. You want to know how to fix it. Anything less is a waste of time. Get off your knee and start with the hard part. Do something productive. Otherwise quit boring me.


I have Lynyrd Skynyrd stuck in my head this morning. I slept fitfully last night. What say we just assume that is the case for future reporting unless I relate otherwise. It is a fact of life, and I suspect you really, really don't care. Thunder rumbled and hard rain fell intermittently in the course of the night. It is rainy and damp this morning.

The truth is "mundane" is the most generous description one could muster when it comes to content around here any more. I know it, you do too. I may or may not tune in to the debates this evening. I am sure who I will vote against. Whom I vote for, well that is a diffferent issue altogether.

Victory is mine! I have again succeeded in filling this blank space with letters and semi-coherent words. The evil flashing cursor is defeated once again. Take that blog template.

September 25, 2016

Simple man

The boy's dog is curled up tight against my hip on the couch as I surf the webz on my iPad this morning. The dog likes to be here. We have a fenced-in backyard where he can run at will. At home he has to be walked on a leash. I like him to come because he chases off the chipmunks and bunnies for a while. The dog is a corgi Jack Russell mix and smart as a whip.

It looks to be a gorgeous day here at the homestead. I have yard work that needs to be done but little desire to do the work.

I had a good time hanging out with the kids yesterday. After the brew tour we went to my daughter's for pizza and cake. The kids all got along and it was very nice.

September 24, 2016


It sure brings on a twinge of guilt to see so many people out jogging, walking, and exercising their dogs as you drive past in your SUV on the way to the donut shop.

Hopping on the hop trail

I woke with a headache after a fitful night's sleep. Tylenol and coffee can't make it worse. The family is gathering today to celebrate birthdays.  My daughter had her day last week, and both boys celebrate this week. We are going on a brew tour of Indy's microbreweries. My wife, who hates beer, is staying behind to watch our granddaughter while the rest of us have a good time. I think this will be the first time all three kids and their respective husbands and girlfriends will be in the same place at the same time since last Christmas. We have seen the kids separately and in pairs, but not as a trio, that I can recall.

September 23, 2016

Rock a bye

At 12:30 my eyes popped open from a deep slumber. I managed to get back to sleep. I had gone to bed shortly after eleven.  2:13 AM found me back awake. I flipped from right to left. I punched up the pillow and turned it over a couple of dozen times looking for the cool side. I even got up and got a drink of water. Then I started the whole routine again. Finally, here I am at three o'dark-thirty tapping away at the old iPad.

I can faintly hear the night sounds outside through tne closed windows; the crickets, the frogs, the locusts, the chirping din of nature's white noise. Maybe it is just the memories grinding in my brain. Certainly it is not the well-oiled machine it once was.

I can just see the granddaughter's crib in the tablet's glow as I type away in the dark room. This spare bedroom serves many purposes -- blog room, spare TV room, daytime nap room for he baby.

I wish I had the funny tale or the witty bromide to toss into the interwebz for your entertainment. My buddy insomnia does nothing fun to offer up as blog fodder. He has no antics, no card tricks, no dirty jokes. He just keeps me awake.

I yawn a bit as I wiggle my rear deeper into the recliner. I close my eyes for a second, but I know I'm not yet ready to fall into the arms of Morpheus. Insomnia and I have hung out many times in the past. I know his ways. In the old days these late night sessions found me at my creative best. That part of my brain withered long ago. I have always had strange sleep patterns. Even as a boy, i often got up for thirty minutes or an hour at a time in the middle of the night.  I would walk the house, go outside and sit in the warm months, read or watch TV before heading back to bed. Im know it drove my parents crazy. Until I was probably thirty it was rare if I averaged more than five hours of sleep each night.  Now I usually get a steady seven in the sack. 

I have bored myself into trying to get back to sleep, so that means you were bored long ago. As I often say, I deliver the depth of entertainment you pay for when you enter this blog o'rama. I do not shortchange your entry fee. Fat in Indiana gives you a good return on your investment. 

Bon soir, mes amis

September 22, 2016

The view from my soapbox

It seems there is a bad case of thuggery going on in Charlotte. Too bad, I like the Queen City. I used to go there about once a month in my former occupation. It seems to me that you lose all legitimacy of a protest when it turns almost immediately into full blown looting and a riot. Too bad the President remains silent on this, as usual. For those of you protesting, you lose all credibility when the chant is "Hands up, don't shoot", a false rallying cry if ever there was one. Even the Eric Holder justice department could find nary a scrap of evidence that ever happened.

I'm not black. I have no idea how those particular Nikes fit.  I do know that life is not fair. I do know that your odds of doing a crime, of failing in school, of ending up fighting uphill against the winds of life increase when you come from a single patent home; no matter what color you skin. Not always, but facts are facts, you can look it up yourself.

The bottom line is that protesting a song or a flag will do nothing to change the culture. How about this dialogue: get an education, take responsibility for your kids, make sure they have a better life than you. There are opportunities out there, take advantage. Do not have kids if you cannot afford them. Stay off drugs. Look at welfare as a temporary helping hand, not a way of life. Learn to speak and write proper English. Get a job, no matter how menial. Work hard and use that experience to leverage a better job.  Write it on you hand in indelible marker -- society owes you nothing, you are only a victim if you let yourself be one.

Note that none of this advice is skin pigment specific.

Here is more, if a cop tells you to do something, do it. There are lots of lawyers out there who will gladly make it right after the fact. Lots and lots of cops are dickheads and bullies. The profession attracts those kind of power hungry fools. Lots more are good people who become jaded from spending their working hours almost exclusively dealing with the worst of society. Some truly want to protect and serve. In every case things get ugly when you argue with a cop or refuse an order. Again, skin color does not matter.

There are racist bigots in this world. Some are white, some are black. Jerks come in every color and ethnicity. Do not let those simple-minded creatures define you.

Kneel, protest, riot, and loot. It will get you nothing but a burned out neighborhood. Real change is up to you. Millionaire athletes and entertainers ought to put their money and effort into that message. Anything else is a hollow symbol and a self-serving waste of time.

September 21, 2016

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