Live blogging the overnight

Present and accounted for. I'm up. Not willingly. Every time I lay down I hack and cough. What joy! I am ensconced in the recliner in my office. I am fine up to the point where I doze off,  then it is hacking up a lung. Music is quietly playing on my Alexa and I am pecking this out. I have no doubt typos will abound (even more than usual) since I am working sans glasses. 

I can see reasonably well without them. I probably  could have passed my vision test when I renewed my license last March, but for my severe astigmatism. After so long I am used to them, I suppose. I thank the good Lord every day for my restored vision. 

It seems like I get this cold that settles into my chest every fall. I have fought off pneumonia a couple of times over the years. I think I get more susceptible. The severe allergies that left me a perpetual snot-nosed kid have mostly faded except in the fall when the leaves turn, mold forms, and the farmers are in the fields. I have travelled in farm country a lot this week. Allergies coupled with the cold passed on from my wife and granddaughter I am not surprised to find me a little sick. 

I am sporting an awesome deep voice, so there is that. Well, up to the point it goes away completely from hacking and coughing.

I going to try and grab some sleep. Goodnight.

The post has been done for ten minutes, it is inspiration for a title that I need now

Wow, Thursday already.

It remains seasonably cool here at the old homestead. Sub-freezing temps greeted me when I checked my phone while the Keurig peed coffee into my mug.

If you haven't figured it out over the past two decades, I lead with a weather report when I am struggling for content. Weather and sports are old and trite and yet still effective conversation starters. Why you would care about my weather conditions remains an unanswered question.

No, it doesn't, upon reflection. You decidedly do not care. I don't really care about your weather, unless you are in a place I am going. I may break down and buy a couple of lottery tix this week. Then I will care about the weather --in tropical island locations.

I would quit work should I win a lottery. I won't quit blogging, at least right away. I am just childish enough to rub your faces in it. Then I will quit blogging. I will be too busy sipping rum drinks in some place with palm trees to bother with it. I wonder what it costs to develop my own personal cigar blend...?

For now I will complain about the weather and get to work. That is a far more realistic reality. The Masters of the Matrix have no incentive to reward me with untold fortune. I would probably lose my money investing in Nigerian Bonds or something anyway.

The cure for the blues

The granddaughter came in this morning, her normal ebullient self. She is the happiest little girl. She said " We had a great day yesterday. Can we have the same day?".

I could only mutter a near-silent "I hope not". Ah, that girl makes me smile anyway. She is the remedy for all that ailes you.

A most disappointing turn of events

The day started off with promise. Since then it has slowly turned to shit.

Consider your attention grabbed

I'm a mouth breather from way back. I was the very definition of "snot nosed kid". Allergies left me perpetually with stuffed sinus cavities. The only way to breath as a kid was through my mouth. Fortunately, the allergies have abated over the years. I learned to breath through my nose. Except at night. Then I must fall into old habits. Pokes in the ribs occasionally inform me I am  snoring.  In recent days I have woken to a sore throat. The big question is it an on-coming cold or just a result of very dry air and open-mouth breathing? Hypochondriac me says I am on the brink of.a cold so bad normal humans would beg for a hospital admission. After all, the wife spent the end of last week with a cold. My head says I'm fine, it is just the lack of humidity. Time will tell.

It is a chilly 33 outside this morning. Brr. OK,  I wouldn't know. I'm inside where it is a semi-comfortable 68. But I bet if was outside sans shoes and coat I would be cold.

Look, do you want a blog post or not?

I could bore you with the minutiae that is my life. Aside, yes there are things even more boring than the opening paragraphs. I don't think I will do that to you. Instead I hope you have a great day. Rest assured I will be back if real inspiration strikes. It would be best if you check back often. 

Ironing out the irony

After reading the comments from Hillary, Holder, and leading Democrats, it appears the new Democrat Party strategy is that unless we stop calling them a mob they are going to riot in the streets and attack those with whom they disagree whenever and wherever they find us.

Weekend Not So Funny

Yesterday's post reminds me of a true story. Back in the Jurassic Era I worked in a plastics factory. We molded stuff (duh). One of the workers was a hard working mold tech. He was tapped for promotion to a line leader position. This necessitated a move to an off shift. His wife worked at the plant too, so they didn't get to see each other much.

One night Ken was not feeling well so he went home early.

You know where this headed, right?

Sure enough, he caught his wife in bed with his old boss; the one who promoted him to second shift.

Funny enough, Ken was blonde. Not so funny was he punched his old boss in the nose and ended up divorced. Ken found a new job at the factory across the highway.

Sometimes I miss the soap opera that is the factory floor.

Not really.

In the shuffling madness

That post just below? It is canned: steam-packed to appear fresh for weeks, months, and even years. On the other hand, in a few days when blonde jokes become the next hashtag evidence of patriarchy, hate, cruelty and oppression, it will be further evidence of my unfitness to exist since I am an old white guy. No doubt legions of SJWs will be hounding me while wearing blond wigs and shouting "me too also".

This post? Fresh as that steaming pile of dog poop the neighbor's mutt left in your front yard.

Fall arrived with a vengeance in these parts yesterday. Wednesday it was a balmy eighty-something. We had sleet yesterday. The temperature in the house had dropped to 63 by bedtime last night. Since the weather lady told us it will not break 60 for a week or more the wife insisted I turn on the heat. Sigh. No break on utility bills this fall. It is straight from A/C to heat. A week ago it was 90!

I decided to take a break from POBs Master and Commander series. Volume 17 is on the coffee table ready to be re-read. Instead I picked up my Kindle for the first time in months and started a Bernard Cornwell novel about Shakespeare. It started a bit slow but is getting better. Like most of his books, it is eminently readable and will be a quick read. I will then head back to The Commodore, or I may crack Jeff Shaara's tome on the Korean War -- The Frozen Hours.

In the meantime, I have stuff to do outside later today. I need to empty out the little fountain, put away the chair cushions, and finish a little fall yard work.

Do not fret, I have a bunch of old jokes sealed up in electronic Ball Jars ready to be cracked open every Saturday for weeks to come. I am sure I can find something to offend just about everyone of you who desperately seek to be angry and offended at every turn. The rest of you I hope have a great Saturday.

weekend funny

Three girls worked in the same office for the same female boss. Each day, they noticed the boss left work early. The girls decided that the next day, when the boss left, they would leave right behind her. After all, she never called or came back to work, so how would she know they went home early?

The brunette was thrilled to be home early. She did a little gardening, spent playtime with her son, and went to bed early. The redhead was elated to be able to get in a quick workout before going on a dinner date. The blonde was happy to get home early and surprise her husband, but when she got to her bedroom, she heard a muffled noise from inside. Slowly and quietly, she cracked open the door and was mortified to see her husband in bed with her boss! Gently, she closed the door and crept out of her house.

The next day, at their coffee break, the brunette and redhead planned to leave early again, and they asked the blonde if she was going to go with them. “No way,” the blonde exclaimed. “I almost got caught yesterday!”

'Cause you asked for it

Friday Music, the feature that will not die.

I like it. One of my thirteen readers likes the feature.  Since we strictly follow Roberts Rules of Order here, abstentions go with the majority. I guess that means you all vote for more -- absent evidence to the contrary.

The Nutmeg of Clarissa Oakes

Up early today. So it goes. Sinatra is crooning softly in the background. My trusty and ever-listening Alexa just told me it is fifty-something outside. It was in the seventies when I went to bed some five hours ago.

I had a dream my wife was pregnant. She informed me of the news while we were on a camping trip, so I know it was all a dream, not a premonition. That and it is impossible for her to be preggers. Her important parts are gone, and I'm pretty sure we have to actually, you know, slap our boy and girl parts together. Besides, she loathes camping. She went camping with me once in about 1986 and declared never no more ever and ever and don't even ask. Therefore any idea that she went camping and delivered the "Guess what, Honey?" news is purely the stuff of imagination.

It was not that I did not make camping comfortable (as comfortable as tent camping can be --  a camper is not camping). I am an Eagle Scout of the old school type where camping and hiking was part of the scouting curriculum -- year round. I know how to make camping easy and fun. She hated all of it, starting with the tent itself. No matter how many times I explained that no crazed killer was going to drive out to the middle of nowhere to find our campsite when so many victims were readily available in cities and towns, she couldn't get past it. The blood-stained hook we found on the door handle of my truck the next morning probably did not help.

I made that last part up.

Anyway, here I am chatting electronically with you. I could be reading. I'm a little bogged down in the Aubry/Maturin Series right now. I have been through the entire series three or four times in the past 20 years. These same installments drag for me every time; the part where the lads are on the long voyage through Java, Indonesia, Australia, a made-up Pacific Island and Peru. The never-ending year of 1812. The events fill three or four books and frankly I think O'Brian ran out of material and was just writing books because they sold rather well. A lot of nothing happens. I mean one can only read page after page about reefing the topsails so many times.

Kind of like this blog.

My wife endorses this joke

A woman was walking down the street when she was accosted by a homeless woman who asked her for a couple of dollars for dinner. The woman took out her wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some wine with it instead of dinner?” “No, I had to stop drinking years ago”, the homeless woman replied. “Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?” the woman asked. “No, I don’t waste time shopping,” the homeless woman said. “I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.” “Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?” the woman asked. “Are you NUTS!” replied the homeless woman. “I haven’t had my hair done in 20 years!”

“Well,” said the woman, “I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you out for dinner with my hubby and myself tonight.” The homeless woman was astounded. “Won’t your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.” The woman replied, “That’s okay. It’s important for him to see what happens to a woman who had to give up shopping, hair appointments and wine.”

I'm jonesing for some pecan pie

Humpity Humpity Hump Day is upon us. It is a transition day in more than one sense. We have enjoyed August-like weather for a while now. The upper 80s will give way to more seasonable, in fact cooler than seasonal temperatures starting tomorrow. We will go from pushing 90 to near-freezing almost over night. Shorts to jeans and a jacket. But we won't have to deal with real weather like hurricanes, so I ain't complaining. Much.

A spate of cold weather will make the wife's pumpkins and gourds on the porch look a little more seasonal. It will maybe kick-start the leaves into turning. The Bradford Pears didn't drop their leaves until December last year. It is not that I want to rake leaves at all, but let's get it done with. 

Oh, and regarding the title, it is PEE cawn not pee CAN. 

Et Tu, Cleveland?

Fall Break is a thing. Just like spring break only...duh...it is in the fall. That means no granddaughter today.

Just to clarify, I am not on fall break. I gotta work. And when I'm not doing the paying boss' stuff, I need to do THE BOSS' stuff, like mow the yard, get things from the attic, and be an all-around sexual satyr. OK, I made that last one up.

The wife bought me a new grill over the weekend. My old one has been unusable all summer. The bottom rusted away completely last winter and the burners were rusted away as well. This time we went to a better model that did not seem like it was constructed from Chinese aluminum foil deemed too crappy to sell at the Dollar Store.

You get what you pay for. The unwritten corollary is that sometimes in life you pay for what you can get. We bought that crappy grill because it was what we could afford at the time. Now I have a box of parts sitting in the garage waiting on me to turn them into a metal box for cooking steak, chicken, and burgers.

Say, Grandpa, what's for dinner?

The boy's car keeled over on the highway at rush hour yesterday evening. He was sitting at a stoplight and the car died and won't start. It will not even turn over. We called a tow truck: $55 to have it towed less than 1/2 mile to the Kia dealer. The car is under warranty for big stuff. I hope it is nothing expensive if it isn't covered. Neither of us has the cash for auto repairs.

It is always something.

Ocean blue and all of that stuff

It is Columbus Day, celebrating the man who lead the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria ships into the Caribbean Islands more than 500 years ago. Bankrolled by Spanish Royalty, Columbus was searching for the Far East. Instead, his little vessels became the first of many cruise ships to dock at Nassau.

Sure, Columbus wasn't the first to run his ship into the Americas. After all, there were people already living here. The Norse and maybe the Welsh likely were visitors long before Columbus, but he had a better press agent. You know how it is; you discover a beautiful little place to vacation and the next time you go back there is a paved parking lot, admission fees, and that asshole Jimmie has carved his name into one of the trees.

Some people refuse to celebrate Columbus Day, instead calling the demi-holiday Indigenous People's Day, a mouthful of syllables that indicates we should honor the natives instead of the Dead White Guy who brought disease, death, and other white people to North and South America. OK. I'm good with that. Let's not take things too far. Indigenous People, Ohio just doesn't roll off the tongue.

I think the mailman has the day off. I do too, because I want to. Does that mean you get a bevy of postulations, opinion, humor, and pithy commentary today? As Big Jake said, "Not Hardly".

If time was in a bottle, yesterday's would just be filled with air.

Holy Crap, it is Sunday already. How did that happen? Where did my Saturday go?

Let's see, the granddaughter spent the night Friday, but she went home pretty early. I surfed the interwebz, watched some TV, read a bit. I trailed along with the wife to a small festival up in Noblesville. We were only there about an hour or so; long enough to score some kettle corn. She brought me home while she went shopping. Then I ...or maybe I...perhaps I took a nap? Insert shoulder shrugging motion. I dunno. She came back to get me and we went to dinner. I had a cheeseburger, I do know that. I opted for fresh fruit instead of fries.

And here we are, deep into a post as boring as the weekend so far. but you have been updated.

Regarding the politics of the day, I was surprised to hear my wife opine strongly on the Kavenaugh thing several times in the past week. She said the whole thing left her angry enough to vote in the midterms, and she usually doesn't bother. She made it clear her vote was directly because of the Kavenaugh fiasco.

Yes, she is heading to the polls to vote against Joe Donnelly, our Democrat Senator who cast his vote along party lines. As she put it, "I don't want some unsubstantiated attack from 35 years ago to ruin my boys lives." those are her words, not mine. This from one of he most apolitical (unpolitical?) persons in the world.

Anecdote is not data, but I find it interesting.

Saturday Humor

A renowned psychologist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their little children.

After a few hours of talking and analyzing their words and behavior, he said: “I believe that you all suffer from some obsession.”

He turned to the first mother and said, “You obviously have an obsession with food. You’ve even named your daughter Candy.”

He turned to the second Mom. “Your obsession is money. And it manifests itself in your child’s name, Penny,”

He turned to the third Mom. “Your obsession is alcohol. Again, it manifests itself in your child’s name, Brandy.”

At this point, the fourth mother got up, took her little boy by the hand and whispered, “Come on, Dick, let’s go”.

Dear Joe

What were you thinking? You are smarter than that.

I know you love the Cubs. Your closet full of T-shirts and Jerseys, your collection of hats, shows it to the world. Sure, Tuesday's game was important. It went into extra innings and you had to watch it all. As the clock ticked past midnight you should have gone to bed and checked the score in the morning. Staying up until 1:00 was a bad decision on many levels.

You had to get up at 5:00 AM to drive to Chicago. Add up the hours of sleep -- that would be one, two, three, four. That is just the same amount of time it takes to drive to the NW 'burbs. You had a day of important meetings. You had to drive home. So, 8+ hours of driving and 6 hours of meetings makes for a 14 hour day on four hours of sleep.

Joe, you are a moron.

No animals were harmed in telling this joke

A man walked into the bar and saw an old friend of his, drinking by himself.

Approaching his friend, he commented, “You look awful. What’s wrong?”

“My mother died in May and left me $15,000,” the friend answered.

“Boy, that’s tough,” the man replied.

Continuing, the friend said, “Then in June, my dad died leaving me $50,000.

“Gosh, both parents gone in such a short period of time? No wonder you’re depressed,” said the man.

“Last month my aunt died and left me $10,000,” the friend added.

“That’s a lot to deal with. Losing three close family members in three months, is terrible!” replied the man.

“Then this month,” continued the friend, “nothing! Not even a single dime!”

And another thing

put down your phone and drive

Murder, Inc.

The Chicago Cubs are going to be the death of me.

Lines form on my face and hands

Today is my son's birthday. No, that is neither a repeat nor a mistake. My boys' birthdays are a day apart. Today marks my oldest son's thirtieth birthday. Unfortunately, he lives in Colorado so we won't get to celebrate with him.

In other news..I have nothing to report. The Cubs and Brewers play later today to determine who is the Divisional Winner and who will be the Wild Card entry in the playoffs.

Have a great Monday

More:

I have said all I intend to on the politics of the day. A few weeks ago I discussed the rancor that is prevalent in today's culture and then went and helped perpetuate it.

Nothing has happened to change my opinion. There is no need to hammer it every day.

I have always maintained that reasonable people can disagree. The sole caveat is that both parties must be reasonable.

We all get to choose which side we think is being unreasonable.

It is a quest for power and money

Do you wonder, as I do, why out of more than 300 million citizens, people like Hillary and Trump are the best we can come with to vie for the Presidency?

The events of the past weeks are exactly why good people eschew government service like the plague. Who wants that kind of anal probing and lynch mob attack?

Any of you who think Thursday was about getting Dr. Ford an opportunity to tell her story are blind, ignorant, or foolish.

Tell me more, tell me more

Today is my youngest son's birthday. He will be 25. There are a lot of stories about him over there in the archives. He was but 11 when this ole blog started. He requested a home cooked meal today, so the family will gather later this afternoon.

I woke up around 3:30 in the morning yesterday. I tossed and turned and finally just gave up. I watched two James Bond flicks and half of a third* before switching over to The Blues Brothers. I watched about half of it then went outside to mow the lawn.

I finally dozed for a bit in the middle innings of the baseball game. The Chicago Cubs will be the cause of my death. Seriously. It will right there on my death certificate. If they cannot rediscover their offense, it will not matter which playoff spot they end up. They will be out in the first round.

Today's game won't be on locally. The WGN/ABC7 feed is shown by a local station, alternating between the Cubs and White Sox. Tne Cubs are playing in a meaningful game to determine playoff seeding. The Sox are 237 games out of first. They are making vacation plans. So the White Sox and Twins will be shown.

I've rambled enough regarding subjects about which you care nothing. Enjoy your Sunday.


* I have always found Goldfinger tedious, both the movie and book.

Memories...and not the Cats kind

Dr. Ford cannot recall the date last month she took her polygraph and whether or not she paid for it, yet somehow we should believe her about an event that took place 35 years ago?

I guess we should trust her about her overwhelming fear of flying because of her near death rape experience too...except when she wanted to fly to Tahiti, Hawaii, Maryland, California, and Washington DC...

One or two little lies should not indicate lack of credibility.

Is the sarcasm font working?

But hey, Kavenaugh partied in high school. I thought only kids in John Hughes comedies did that...

There I go, acting the evil right-winger caveman again, thinking that facts matter, especially when one is part of a plot to slander a political opponent.

Poking the Bear

There was the woman who approached the local pharmacist and asked for cyanide.

“What on earth would you want to do with cyanide?” he asked.

“I want to poison my husband” she said coolly.

Of course the pharmacist was quite upset about this and made it quite clear to her that he was not going to be part of such a plot, and that he had no intention of selling any poison to her for that purpose.

The woman then took a photograph out of her bag. It showed the pharmacist’s wife in bed with the woman’s husband.

“Oh! You didn’t tell me you had a prescription!

If this offends you, substitute "he" for she. Perhaps make both characters LBQTNoneofthe above. Make it cartoon character mice. Change the whole plot to a fairy tale where everyone sits around a table at an Eco-friendly coffee shop talking about the patriarchy and privlege how Hillary was cheated out of her rightful position by the Russians in the flyover states. 

Ok I have rewritten the post to make it palatable for all. No need to offend anyone here.

A person picked a prescription at a pharmacy. Disease was cured. The end. 

Juan de Torquemada is smiling in his grave

Dalton Trumbo has long been a causes celebres  among the leftists. Named by the McCarthy House Un-American Activities Committee as a possible communist, Trumbo was blacklisted from working in Hollywood. Like others accused during the days of the Red Hysteria, they were guilty because they could not prove a negative claim -- " prove you do not harbor communist sympathies". 

Further back in history is the case of Sacco and Vanzetti. This pair of anarchists were executed for the killing of a guard and paymaster during a robbery. The evidence was slim and the judge in the case  stated in his charge to the jury that even if they were not guilty of the robbery and murder they were "morally culpable" because of their far-leftist politics and should be judged accordingly. Liberals and progressives around the world protested their conviction and subsequent execution, including future Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter.

Will future historians mark the "guilt by accusation" hysteria as beginning with the shameful Judicial Committee hearings yesterday? 

Most of us hoped the McCarthyism of yesteryear was a shameful event best left to the dustbin of history. I guess for Senate Democrats revenge really is a dish best served cold.

Uncle Paul

“Hello?”

“Hi honey this is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?”

“No Daddy. She’s upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul.”

After a brief pause, Daddy says, “But honey, you haven’t got an Uncle Paul.”

“Oh yes I do, and he’s upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now.”

Brief Pause.

“Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy’s car just pulled into the driveway.”

“Okay Daddy, just a minute.”

A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone. “I did it Daddy.”

“And what happened honey?” he asked.

“Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn’t moving at all!”

“Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?”

“He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too. He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn’t know that you took out the water last week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I he isn’t moving either.”

***Long Pause***

***Longer Pause***

***Even Longer Pause***

Then Daddy says, “Swimming pool? Is this 486-5731?”

Sheer profundity

Sometimes my commenters are most observant and smart:

Can I just say what a comfort to discover a person that genuinely knows what they're talking about on the internet.You definitely realize how to bring a problem to light and make it important. More and more people need to look at this and understand this side of your story. It's surprising you're not more popular given that you certainly possess the gift.

Sure, these words of wisdom were written as a spam comment on a stupid throw away post from 2015, but still...

Query

Here is an honest question. Has your life been changed in any material, concrete way for the worse by the election of Trump?

Dear USAToday

Hearsay:

information received from other people that one cannot adequately substantiate; rumor

Just because I told other people something does not mean they can substantiate my statements. These folks do not "collaborate" my innuendo. Jeez, even Judge Judy refuses to let witnesses testify to hearsay evidence.

Look, some have taken exception to my "war on women" in the Kavenaugh Affair. I have a deep-seated antipathy to tyranny. The bedrock of freedom and our Constitution is the concept that a person is innocent until proven guilty. Automatic assumption that any witness, claimant, accuser, or defendant is inherently more believable based on the the number of chromosomes one might possess is the direct antithesis to this foundation. It has nothing to do with politics nor misogyny on my part. It has nothing to do with sex (gender is a language construct). It is about fairness. It is about our basic rights as a human.

If we are going to determine guilt based upon "who" provides the evidence we might as well determine guilt or innocence via Trial by Ordeal. If he weighs more than a duck he is a rapist. How about we bind and gag them both and throw them in the Potomac? We can determine guilt or innocence by the survivor? The testimony of a noble, a king, a white man, nor a woman should carry more weight than your word or mine. We all must be equal before the law.

No one should be convicted in actual court or the court of public opinion by unsubstantiated innuendo. Failure to give basic evidence such as time and place and potential witnesses is no more than a basic attack; it is accusation, no more. And further, as indicated by the opening, the fact that Dr. Ford told her husband, her neighbor, her therapist, and her kids' baseball coach in the last few years is not evidence either. Their testimony is hearsay. The testimony of others reported to be at the supposed party is evidence. Unfortunately all of those witnesses deny the event or claim they were never there.

Compurgation is not evidence either. Just because a whole bunch of people can swear they believe her, that is not evidence.

It very well may be that what Dr. Ford says happened did indeed take place. It is entirely up to her to prove it. To do otherwise takes us down a road no one is going to like in the future.

If we are to give more credence to the testimony of a person because of womanhood, what happens to the claims of a transgendered person? Do we believe them more or less? This is not just a slippery slope, it is an ice covered vertical drop.

Tuesday Grab Bag

Early up. Again. It is the same story several times a week. You are probably as tired of reading about it as I am living it.  I have battled insomnia for most of my life.

Thunder rumbles in the distance as sheets of rain rattle against the windows. That is not what woke me. I won't be mowing the lawn this evening.

The Cubs magic number remains at five with their loss and a Brewers win last night. If the bats do not somehow come back to life the Northsiders post season run will be a short one.

Before it is all said and done we will likely learn it was Brett Kavenaugh who splattered Monica's good blue dress just after he left a woman to die in a flooded car.

Go forth and prosper on this wet and dreary Tuesday. Your weather may vary, but the sentiment is genuine.

If only

Too bad Dianne Feinstein couldn't muster up the courage of her convictions when it came time to vote on the fate of a man who not only committed perjury, but sexually harassed an intern, perhaps assaulted an employee, and reportedly raped a political volunteer. After all, when there is a he said/ she said the woman gets the benefit of the doubt.

I think we all saw this coming

Kavenaugh is done. Another victim has come forward and claimed he did the Clinton wiener -wag at a college party. She doesn't know the details, but says it happened.*

Politically, he must withdraw. It will cost too much political capital to push him through.There is no time to vet another candidate before the October session of the Court nor before the midterms. That was the point of holding onto Ford's accusation all along, n'est pas?

Maybe both women are telling the truth.

Maybe it is just the dirtiest of dirty politics. Will these accusers fade into history, the deed done? Will they insist the Judge be impeached from the Court of Appeals in ignominious humiliation? 

The rank politics of the timing sickens me. 

If it is just politics, the Democrats will be sorry. Mother Teresa is dead. No other candidate will be able to pass muster if they so much as spit on the sidewalk as a youth. And the low esteem we all hold Congress will sink yet more until one day a strong President and Praetorian Guard of bureaucrats decides Congress serves no function beyond  upholding the ceremonial pretensions of The Republic and a true dictatorship is born. 

Or Kavenaugh is a serial sexual miscreant. Time will tell.

I'm now motivated to vote in the midterms. 

*below the jump

Marching through Atlanta

The wife and I motored up to Atlanta, IN yesterday to attend the New Earth Festival. The entire town was a collection of booths and food stalls. A band was rocking the stage. As usual in these street fairs the booths sold everything from flea market goods to crafts to junk. A couple of intrepid young boys of perhaps eight were selling rocks from a card table. The visitors easily quadrupled the little town's population. * One middle aged couple had a goat on a leash while wandering the streets. Other folks had dogs with them and at least one kid was leashed too.

Festivals of this type bring out a range of people from comfortable middle class to complete white trash. For the most part, people are polite and good natured. If everyone wearing Harley gear actually owned a bike than the streets and highways of central Indiana would look like Sturgis, SD in August. On the other hand, I was sporting a Colts T-shirt and I certainly don't suit up on Sunday afternoons, so I guess it is the same thing.

The wife and I had a good time just hanging out together. I wish I had not already gone on a long walk in the morning. By the end of the day my legs were tired. But such exercise is good for me. The wife bought a new fall lawn flag. She is under the mistaken belief she will replace my Cubs flag. Unless she wants to. I bought a small bag of taffy. We shared a shaved rib eye steak sandwich for a late lunch.

The highlight of the trip was shared piece of deep fried sugar cream pie. Yes, you read that right. Sugar cream pie is a regional dish and is good and wonderful and decadent by itself. Add deep fried goodness and what you get is ambrosia. Granted, it is vein-closing, diabetic coma, high calorie awesomeness. Oh my, if I was ever interviewed for that show I could name it as one of the Best Things I Ever Ate. It was that good. I only had about a third of the piece of pie and that was probably too much, but it was worth it.

There is the Riley festival over in Greenfield next month. I bet that deep-fried pie guy is going to be there...

* the population is 725. There were over 600 booths, so it is fair to guess the vendors outnumbered the population before the attendees are even counted.

A Nostalgic Look at the Future

It is a chilly start to the first day of fall. Not freezing by any means, but 57 F is far from the 79 temperature this time yesterday. I may have to put on jeans when I go for my morning constitutional later.

I percolated  some coffee this morning rather than going K-cup. Sure,you can believe it was an effort to reduce my plastic waste.

I can tell it is moving into fall. My allergies are starting to get worse. I have had a headache for several days. My nose is dripping this morning and I feel a general lethargy coming on.

That might explain why it has taken 15 minutes to compose the few sentences of this post so far. I can usually crank out an entry in no time. I am struggling today. That may explain the paucity of content. I seem to spend far more time sipping coffee and listening to music than hunting and pecking out the coherent word combinations on my electronic keyboard that defines our near-daily one-sided conversation.

I watched Led Zeppelin's mid-70s concert movie The Song Remains the Same last night. In my youth I owned the soundtrack on 8 Track. You youngsters have no idea of that format. I remember the familiar mmmm-click-mmmm came in the midst of the music a couple of times as the track changed. Just as I did some forty years ago I skipped over the twelve minutes of drum solo in the song "Moby Dick.". That tune is almost as boring as Melville's book of the same name. In fairness, Bonham's drumming is more entertaining that Ishmail's whining. Yeah, I skipped over the book when it was assigned in my school days too.

I would not be surprised to discover you fast forwarded through this post.

Macanudo Memories

We find ourselves sipping coffee on a warm Friday morning. The sun has yet to peek above the horizon beyond the big willow.

After today the spate of extraordinary warm weather is expected to drop to more seasonable temperatures. It will not be long before I am complaining about raking leaves -- it is what I do best. Complaining, that is, not raking leaves. This time of year always brings to mind football games and the raucous cheers echoing from the red brick buildings of the college.

I had a small cigar as I walked through the neighborhood last evening. My wife says it is silly to smoke a stogie while ostensibly exercising. As in most cases, she is probably right, but what the heck. It was my first cigar in weeks.

I'm not aware of any plans for the weekend. The One in Charge will tell me where to be I am sure. I have some long overdue yard work to do. The carpets in my office and the master bedroom still need cleaned. Neither chore sounds like much fun. I shall endeavor to avoid doing either.

What is on tap for your weekend?

Enjoy your Friday.

I was wrong

For those of you who believe no woman can lie about the serious issue of sexual assault:

READ THIS

A former classmate of Christine Blasey Ford tells NPR that she does not know if an alleged sexual assault by Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh took place as she first suggested on social media.
“That it happened or not, I have no idea,” Cristina King Miranda told NPR’s Nina Totenberg. “I can’t say that it did or didn’t.”
That’s different from what Miranda wrote Wednesday in a now-deleted Facebook post that stated definitively, “The incident DID happen, many of us heard about it in school.”...“In my [Facebook] post, I was empowered and I was sure it probably did [happen],” Miranda told NPR. “I had no idea that I would now have to go to the specifics and defend it before 50 cable channels and have my face spread all over MSNBC news and Twitter.”

Root of the Problem

A person went to a psychologist because the individual was having severe sex life issues.

The psychologist asked the person many questions but did not seem to be getting a clear picture of the problems. Finally he asked, “Do you ever watch your significant other's face while you are having sex?”

“Well, yes, I did last time,” the patient replied.

“How did the other person look?” the psychologist asked.

“Very angry,” the patient said.

“We must look into this further.” said the psychologist. “You say that you have only seen your lover's face once during sex. That seems somewhat unusual. How did it happen that you saw the face that time?”

“It was looking through the window at us,” the patient answered.

Edit: can it just be a funny joke now?

Guilty

Sen. Mazie Hirono explained, boiling down the Senate Democrats’ position on Brett Kavanaugh. “It’s the men in this country. I just want to say to the men in this country, just shut up"  source

Is not a blanket statement of this kind the very definition of stereotyping and sexism? If I stipulated that when it comes to politics that"All women should just shut up" such a statement would be rightly met with howls of outrage.  What is the difference? Remember when "the Jews" were blamed for Germany's economic troubles*? Is the concept of innocent until proven guilty no longer applicable? Are all men now morally culpable? I am in trouble, I am a white male. I foresee a trip to a gulag in the Nevada desert for me if people like this have their way.

 Funny, Democrats imprisoned anyone who looks Asian. Democrats founded and supported the KKK for years and it is somehow the rest of us that are the racists.  Now every man is just guilty. If one tries to defend himself against unfounded accusations, he should just "shut up"?

Now it appears Senate Democrats are adopting yet another time-honored tactic of the left -- guilt by anonymous whispering campaigns.  Lavrentriy Beria please call the DNC your office...

And commenter Anony Mouse wonders why I am critical of the Democrats and leftists in general.


* I know, I just broke Godwin's Law.  It makes the point no less valid.

End Times

When everybody on earth was dead and waiting to enter Paradise

God appeared and said, "I want the men to make two lines. One line for
The men who were true heads of their household, and the other line for
The men who were dominated by their women. I want all the women to
Report to St. Peter ."
Soon, the women were gone, and there were two lines of men.

The line of the men who were dominated by their wives was a 100 miles
Long, and in the line of men who truly were heads of their household,
There was only one man.

God said to the long line, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves,
I created you to be the head of your household! You have been
Disobedient and have not fulfilled your purpose! Of all of you, only
One obeyed. Learn from him."

God turned to the one man, "How did you manage to be the only one in
This line?"

The man replied, "My wife told me to stand here."

Trust me, it happened

Let me see if I have this straight:

Sometime 35 or so years ago a teenager supposedly attacked a girl at a party.

The accuser is not sure when the attack happened.

The accuser says she is not sure where it happened.

The accuser says that she is not sure if there were witnesses beyond the four, no make that two guys in the room, both of whom deny the incident.

But it was really, really traumatic.

The Former Attorney General from California thinks the FBI should investigate.  One would think she would know the difference between a Federal Crime and a local crime.  One would also think she would understand...evidence. You know stuff like when, where, and who?

Democrats say we should call witnesses; valuable witnesses like the therapist that the victim confided in. Or maybe the victim's husband. So we should believe two people whose only knowledge of the supposed incident is what the accuser told them? Are you sure he didn't toss a stray pubic hair on a Coke can too?

Of course the accuser having ties to anti-Trump factions, donations to the Democrat Party, a possible animosity to the Kavenaugh family, and a liberal history has nothing --do you hear me -- nothing to do with the sudden resurfacing of memories of an incident so traumatizing, so painful, so horrible that she forgot them for three decades and still finds the details a bit fuzzy.

I know the exact date I had the first kiss with my wife. I know the very spot I first got laid. Neither of these was an alleged assault. I would think that would be at least a bit memorable.

I wonder how many women on the Judicial Committee would give credence to a woman who claimed their husband assaulted her sometime in the past but the "victim" could not remember where or when?

Maybe we should ask Keith Ellison?

Rogering the deep state

And that, Mr. Obama, is how you do "transparency".

Now, if the press will report it, we will see how the leftist political appointees and Democrats conspired to steal an election.

How Things Work

Ever since the election of 2016, the losers have gone out of their way to complain that the system is unfair. In fact, it is only unfair in that the leftist candidate lost.

Since actual history is no longer taught in schools, I will present a brief overview of How Things Work. I know, I see your eyes glazing already.  Stick with me, it will be quick and painless.

There are a couple of things you have to grasp to understand our government. First, the United States of America is exactly that -- a collection of independent states joined together in a union. The various States are not provinces, nor administrative districts like your townships or counties. The States are independent.  That is why there is a separate driver's license for Ohio, or Indiana, or Alabama and not a national license.  That is why California can implement its own fuel standards. The Feds regulate commerce among the States -- New York cannot slap a tariff on New Jersey grown tomatoes, for instance. For those of you who think this should not be so, then how would you feel about New York or Illinois being forced to adhere to Mississippi's educational standards or Texas gun laws?  That is what I thought.

Two, we are a representative government, not a democracy. Repeat that several times until you get it.  The founders recoiled at the very idea of a true democracy.

OK, to the meat of the issue. By design, the States elect the President, not the People. Thus the Electoral College. The majority of votes wins the States' electors, the electors then vote for the President according to population. The majority has its way, the minority has its say. The President is elected indirectly by popular vote as dictated by the population of the various states. I should note, each State determines the method for choosing electors. See point one above.

Now to address the recent cry of sore losers everywhere. They argue that some States are over-represented in our government and others are under-represented. They could be no more wrong.

The House of Representatives is apportioned according to population. that is why California has 53 members in the House while Alaska has but one. The Representatives are apportioned equally based upon population.

The Senate represents the States. Every State is equally represented by two Senators. This keeps the majority from imposing its will on the smaller States. No State is over-represented, they all have two votes. This is no bug, but rather a feature. The big, populous States carry weight in the House, things are equaled in the Senate.  This is not hard to understand, unless one chooses not to.

Failure of your candidate or party to win elections is not an indication things are "unfair" nor "broken". It is means the designed system of checks and balances has worked. The primary driver in the design of our government is to prevent tyranny. The three branches balance each other, the large states are balanced against the smaller states. it is pure genius.

As always, I welcome your rebuttal in the comments.

Thick as a brick

I'm not sure if there has been any news coverage about it, but a hurricane made landfall in the Carolina's on Friday and has dumped a bunch of rain. Weather "experts" would have you think this is an unprecedented event and climate change is about to kill us all. Sure 8 or 10 inches of rain over a few days is a bad thing. Twice that is worse. Heck, we had over five inches in a couple of days here last week. To put things in perspective  Mount Wai'ale'ale on Kaua'i averages 373 inches of rain a year and was drenched with 683 inches in 1982. Reunion Island got nearly 72 inches of rain in 24 hours back in 1966.  That is six feet of rain. Not annually, in one freaking day. So how about we dial down the panic rhetoric a tad about Florence? 

It is clear this dude went into "reporting" because he is a terrible actor. 

All about the salsa verde

Good morning, fellow 'Muricans and Canadians and Earthlings, if you prefer. We will once again present today's offering in plain old English, so if that is not your preferred language, I can only opine that it sucks to be you. Not from any strong xenophobic passion, but rather that American English is my language of choice. My wit and wisdom is only available in that format.

And because I am only fluent in English. In the Hoosier patois at that.

You Britishers can just get over the spelling. There ain't no "U" in color.

Where was I going before you started griping about language?

Heck if I know.

Yesterday was my favorite daughter's birthday. Yes, I admit it. So what? Sure, she is my only daughter, so it is pretty easy to name her my favorite daughter. We went out for Mexican food to celebrate. I had no need to stretch my limited Spanish vocabulary. It is easy to order tacos.

Unlike certain bands currently playing in the background, I have never been through the desert on a horse with no name.

In my case, it was Scout.

I'm not aware of any important weekend plans. I have to cut the grass. There is a bit of excitement, should you care to live vicariously through my adventures. My eye drops are ready for pick up down at the drug store. I better stop there, I'm not sure you can handle the sheer adrenaline rush of all this seat-of-the-pants thrill ride that is my life. I don't care if you are wearing an official imitation Indiana Jones hat, it is probably just too much to handle.

Does this become more entertaining and worthwhile if you read it out loud?

Go back to the beginning and do it. I need to know.

I can only hope you are sitting at the doctor's office or standing in line at WalMart when you do it.  Even better, I envision you sitting at your favorite dining establishment, waiting on your food, reading this at full voice. Because of course the louder the better. Turn up the volume to eleven, give us some "room-filling energy!", as my speech teacher used to advise the class. Everyone at Chez Patrice, Applebee's, or Arby's wants to hear my words of wisdom. Really.

You better stop reading out loud now. It is creating a feedback loopy-thing, you reading out loud about reading out loud. Sorry it is just weird. What made you think that was a good idea?

Housekeeping matters

Hah, I don't mind the spam comments. They are easily wiped away. I just wish the "I learned a lot from this post" and "this is great information", etc. comments were on a posts that were real commentary, not throw away posts of a line or two. Especially a post from a decade or so ago.

I was looking at my referral logs. It seems a porn site has taken a great liking to my work.  Thanks for sending links over here. I'm not sure what I have offered that encouraged this linkage, but I will take every visitor I get.

The fifer is on the capstan

Thursday. It feels like this week has been 9 or 10 days long already, yet I toil on. Friday will be here soon.

On the bright side, I have dumped multiple posts on you in recent days. It reminds me of the old days.  Sure, some of the posts are from the old days...

But it is not like I have raised rates around here. 

If you are really unhappy I will freely refund your paid subscription. You cannot ask more than that.

"Fair" is my middle name.

The same, only different

A lady goes to the doctor and complains that her husband is losing interest in sex. The doctor gives her a pill, but warns her that it's still experimental. He tells her to slip into her husband's mashed potatoes at dinner. So that night she does just that.

A week later she is back at the doctor and and says "Doc, the pill worked great! I put it into his potatoes like you said. Not even five minutes later he jumped up, raked the dishes and food onto the floor, ripped off all of my clothes and ravished me right there on the table!"

The Doctor says, "I'm sorry, we did not realize the pill was so strong. The drug company will pay for the broken dishes and any damages."

"Nah", she says, "That's OK. We're not going back to that restaurant anyway."

Proving that great set ups and punchlines are universal. I originally [published this joke back in September of 2013

How paint got me kicked out of church

Three couples went to visit the minister to see how to become members of his church. The minister said that they would have to go without making love for two months and then come back and tell him how it went.

The first couple was retired, the second couple was middle-aged and the final couple was newlywed.

Two months went by, and the couples returned to the minister. The retired couple said it was no problem at all. The middle-aged couple said it was a bit tough the first month but then it was not a problem. The newlyweds said it was fine until the woman dropped a can of paint.

“A can of PAINT??!” exclaimed the minister.

“Yeah,” said the newlywed husband. “She dropped the can and when she bent over to pick it up I had to have her right there and then. Lust just took over.”

The minister just shook his head and said: “You two sinners are not welcome in my church!”

“That’s okay,” said the man. “We’re not welcome at Home Depot, either.”

How to get more of what you hate most

As a denizen of Hicksville, one of "those people" who live in flyover country, I want to offer a piece of advise to my "betters" on the coasts. Yes, I know we are responsible, collectively, for the election of President Trump (more importantly, the defeat of Hillary) . Still i have a word of caution: to some of us you are starting to appear unhinged.

A group has sued to take away the liqueur license from the Trump Hotel in Washington DC because supposedly the man whose name is on the hotel is "amoral" and unfit to hold said license, despite the fact that the hotel is owned by a corporation. You can look the story up yourself. This the sort of all out "resistance" and attack that leaves many of us scratching our heads and thinking you really are deranged.

Joe Scarborough pens an editorial claiming Trump is worse for America than the 9/11 hijackers? Are we really supposed to believe he is an unbiased "journalist"? I'm not aware of any Americans murdered by the President. So far, I put the score at about 3,000 to 0, terrorists winning.

Maxine Waters started calling for Trump to be impeached before he was even sworn in. This weekend she said once Trump is gone they will impeach Pence. Does anyone even understand that a crime has to be committed before someone can be removed from office? Perhaps something akin to lying under oath (perjury) or sexual harassment of an intern? Not agreeing with someone politics is not a reason to boot them. That is not how it works.

This is how banana republics are born, however.

Who are you

I am not real. I am the dreams, nightmares, and fantasies that swirl in your brain late at night. I am the right wing whiteboard that helps you organize your thoughts. I am the thunder in the distance, the flash of a summer lightening bug. I am the warm blanket you pull up to your chin, the rich velvety hot fudge on your ice cream. I am the spark shooting into the summer sky from a pine log fire, the soft snowflake melting on your eyelash. I stretch like taffy, compress like rubber, and am strong as tempered steel. I am an exceptional man, an average Joe. I make up the top ten percent of the median. I am an enigma, a question mark, the guy next door. I am a Boy Scout, a reprobate, the penultimate environmentalist litterbug. I am a staunch meat eating vegan. Women want me, men want to be me. I am the shyest exhibitionist you have ever seen. I am legend in my mind, yet when you see me on the street you exclaim "I know that guy!". I coached your kids, mentored your kid brother and fed your Mom false information. I have been described as the north end of bi-polar disorder. I troll the interwebz from the non-existent basement of my two story ranch located deep in the heart of the inner-city suburbs. I am a progressive right-winger, dispensing political truth in measured doses. Your only required prescription is an open mind. Indeed, despite older claims to the contrary, I am the walrus. 

From a post I wrote in 2012.  I have no idea what it means even today.

nine eleven

As I have stated often, if you need me to remind you of this anniversary, you are probably reading the wrong blog.

The SCOTUS confirmation hearings brings this to mind

Fixing baseball, and that is not a reference to the Black Sox

I love baseball. I always have. I have occasionally scorned and decried the changes and proposed changes to the game in an effort to "speed it up".  I especially hate the idea of "ghost runners on second" and changing batters in the latter stages of the game.  The odious DH rule bears no discussion whatsoever.

HERE is an intelligent and cogent article on the current issues in in MLB and a common-sense means to correct the problems without changing the fundamental rules of the game.

I can only guess the editor somehow stripped the "get-rid-of-the-designated-hitter" part of the plan.

Not even a little surprised

Long ago a blogger who went by the name Big Dick used to comment here. His blog was funny and irreverent and the term "politically incorrect" did not even begin to describe it. I enjoyed his work immensely. Big Dick is also me of the few bloggers I have met.

He quit blogging, like many did, quite a long time ago.

I was reading some of my old blog posts this morning (never mind why). I ran across a comment from Big Dick and he mentioned he was spreading his good cheer on the Twitter platform.

I clicked on the link. I am not surprised to learn his Twitter feed had been suspended. If you remember Big Dick, you will not be surprised either.

I also bet he is just a bit proud of his reprimand.

Here is to you Big Dick.

Say it ain't so

I just read one of the most disappointingly sad lines:

The Iowa Caucasus start in just 16 months

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Aren't we still arguing over the last election?

I was standing on a corner

Steady rain beats on the roof as the remnants of TS Gordon hangs around again this morning. A couple of inches of rain fell yesterday and equal amounts are predicted for today. The lawn is waterlogged and I expect that daylight will reveal a mini stream flowing through the low place near the fence. Temperatures have dropped to a decidedly fall-like low sixties.

I hazarded the monsoon last night to pick up a pizza for dinner. We stayed inside warm and dry and watched a movie on Netflix.

My Echo Dot is playing softly in the background as I type. This just came on while I was typing about the rain:

How weird is that? I guess my Amazon Overlord really is spying upon me! I thought it was cornea implants I got a couple of years ago. It must have been tracking implants...

Hey, could you Amazon guys help me sleep late on the weekend? I'm tired of waking up at 4:30 on a Saturday morning.

Winner, winner

Bow before my greatness. Genuflect to my superior intellect. Tremble in fear of my awesome mind, for I have triumphed in an Internet trivia contest. I am an HQ Trivia champion.

Yes, I beat out some 300,000 competitors to emerge victorious without even using an earned extra life. I would place a video of Queen's We are the Champions here if I did not find the song and the band almost as odious as Steve Miller and Aerosmith.

The prize was a nice $5,000.

I should point out that I was not the only winner: about four thousand shared the pot. My cut was right at $1.25. Still, that is a buck and a quarter I did not have before and I am a winner!

NASA, we have a problem

I have always enjoyed politics as a fairly entertaining spectator sport. I enjoyed armchair quarterbacking. No more.

Things have become so toxic I just want to step away. When things get so vulgar that a candidate's children cannot watch his confirmation hearing it is a problem. When unelected bureaucrats attempt a Praetorian coup over the duly elected president, we have a problem. When reasonable people cannot agree to disagree, because there are no more reasonable people, we have a problem.  When we can no longer discuss a policy on its merits, but rather just how racist you are for supporting or not supporting said policy, we have a problem.

I read the comments on a sports article last night. It was about the Colts. The comments turned into a discussion of Trump/Kneeling/name calling/hysterics before 10 people even commented on the innocuous article.

I like politics. They are not my life.  It may consume a great deal of my ranting on these pages, but it is not my being.  If it is yours, I suggest you get a grip, examine your life, and relax.

Why I do not play golf

Two men are trying to get in a quick eighteen holes, but there two women golfers in front of them who are taking quite a long time to play each hole.

The first guy says, “Why don’t you go over and ask if we can play through?” The second guy gets about halfway there, turns and comes back. The first guy says, “What’s wrong?”

He says, “One of them is my wife, and the other is my mistress.”

The first guy says, “That could be a problem. I’ll go over.” He gets about halfway there and he turns and comes back, too.

The second guy says, “What’s wrong?”

The first guy says, “Small world!”

Reporting for duty

Back to work. Blah. I need a vacation to recover from my holiday.

I've been up since about three. I dozed a bit from 5-6:30. I just cannot shut off my brain or block out worries like I used to.

I'm back. Sorry about that. I just remembered it is Tuesday, not Monday. I had to put the trash cans out by the curb.

You can relax, there is no political screed today, just a boring reporting-in post. I am alive. I have been blessed by God. I have plenty to be thankful for (poor grammar notwithstanding).

Have a great Monday Tuesday.

Puttin' in the work on Labor Day

If you are due to drop a baby today I wish you joy. I hope you have an easy Labor Day.

I am composing this post on my crappy old laptop because my crappy Gen 1 iPad battery died yesterday.  The plug was blocked in by furniture piled in my office. *

I read where protesters are going to try and shut down O'Hare Airport in Chicago today to demonstrate against violence. Yes, because people flying out of the airport are killing youths on the South Side. OK. It makes perfect sense, except it makes no sense at all. This protest is akin to me being sick of the dog barking next door so I will block the entryway at Whole Foods.

I bet the leader of the protest did awful on that section of standardized tests where you have decide "square is to rectangle as rain is to...".

You know what?  I am going to boycott buying a Rolls Royce until the violence ends on Chicago's South Side.

Protest leader The Reverend Gregory Livingston says he wants business investment on the South and West sides "commensurate" with investments on the North side. Does this guy understand the basics of business? Private people put up money to grow and create business opportunities. The City of Chicago is not paying for the building and construction around Wrigley Field, the Ricketts Family is. The city did not build the building my company is located in, my boss did. Does The Reverend think that by making business executives miss their flights he will make them suddenly decide to build their next office building beside Cabrini Green?** Worse, does he buy into the whole "you did not build that" rhetoric of the far Left in the Democrat Party?  Does Livingston think that the Government creates businesses, factories, and jobs?  Perhaps he should have taken an economics class or two before divinity school.

People in Libertyville and Waukegan are not shooting 50 or 60 people of color on a hot summer weekend. The people in the neighborhoods on the south and west sides are shooting their own. Maybe the protests should stay a little closer to home and attack the root of the problem, not figuratively pour Roundup on a patch of weeds in the next county in hope their own plot of ragweed and dandelions shrivels and dies through osmosis or something.

I'm sick of the constant road construction here on the North Side of Indy. I think a protest down at Gulf Shores in order.

Ah, it is a Holiday. What say we enjoy an end of summer cookout and relax?



* I'm cleaning carpets this weekend in case you did not read the previous posts (shame on you). We just have the living room to put back in order. The carpet should be dry this morning.  Then we have to decide if I am going to clean my office and the master bedroom. Moving furniture from those rooms is an issue.  I steadfastly refuse to dismantle the bed. 

**yes, I know that notorious housing project was demolished in 2011. I'm making a point.

Doing the heavy lifting

Greetings fellow Earthlings. We are in the midst of a long weekend of work here at the old homestead. Earlier in the week the forecast called for rain all weekend so the Boss declared we would clean carpets. Clean carpets we shall, even though the weather has been very nice indeed.

I got about half the house done yesterday. We have to put that furniture back to clear the other rooms to clean today. The wife is still deep in slumber so I can take a few minutes to goof off on the blog before I am driven back to toil and effort.

My coffee is hot and I'm jonesing for a bowl of cornflakes.

What is happening in your world this holiday weekend?