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Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Politics, politics, don’t we all love politics.

My wife is, on occasion, an active Facebooker.  She also is currently being barraged (as are we all) by the current crop of political wannabes and “their” PAC’s and she has developed (as have we all) a certain amount of opinion from the experience.  Not too very long ago she decided she is not a “Republican,” nor is she a “Democrat.”  Nor is she (as am I) an “Independent.”  It seems she has done a good bit of reading about the “Libertarians,” probably due to my Cousin Joe’s posts, and that, so she says, fits her to a Tee. 

Fine.  Who knows, with the current selectees-apparent of the two “major” “parties, I could find myself on board with her too. 

By current “selectees,” I am counting on the opinions of the two so-called “leading” candidates, i.e., T. rump for the Reps and Hillary (Good Wife) for the Dems.  I guess one might ask why I have negative feelings about both these sterling candidates.  Well, no particular reasons—other than, perhaps, the following:

Let’s start with GW Hillary.  In spite of her long list of political qualifications, some of which the Reps may point out as being as much a negative as a positive for her, I just can’t understand why, in a country of 300 million people, anyone would think we would need not one, but two “Clinton” Presidencies.  The first “Clinton” Presidency will best be remembered by the phrase “I did not have sex with that woman!”  Now, the current Clinton candidacy  gives us: "I did not email any classified material to anyone on my email."  Why, oh why, would anyone want to bring that kind of “stuff” back to our oval office?  Who do you suppose might be invited to inspect the underside of our Presidential desk the next time we might invite a “Clinton” to occupy it?  Is there not a single person in the 200,000,000 (a WAG) or so eligible Americans who might be able to do as good a job as she?  I suspect there is at least one other—maybe a few thousand—who might do as good a job.  Maybe even T. rump (then maybe not.)  The Reps agreed we did not need another “Bush.”  What is taking the Dems so long to come to a similar decision?  We need a President—not a “Good Wife.”

Now—as to T. rump—you may have noticed how I have taken the liberty of slightly modifying The Donald’s last name to fit my own nefarious purposes.  In his own way, he is sort of a Tyrannosaurus, is he not?  He tried to eat a couple of lovely Ms’s early in the campaign, alienating quite a few of their sisters.  He tried to eat one of our two closest neighbors, wanting them to build a fence (“and they will pay for it.”)  He’s trying to eat quite a few of us when he singled out a religion for his Islamiphobic purposes, un-American though that may be.  The only question is: Who or what will he be setting his sights on next?  Is this presidential behavior?  Well, while it might be appropriate for the “Boss,” it is not and never will be “Presidential” behavior.  (My thoughts, “T. rump, ‘you’re fired!’”)

Candidates:  Zero for two so far.  How about those “Libertarians?”  My choice would have been Dr. Joseph G. Buchman.    Since, for some reason they selected a guy who’s already been dismissed by the voting public once, I’ll have to do some serious thinking here.  Dr. Buchman’s recommendation will probably carry the day, in this case, mainly because I happen to know just a bit about him (the good Ph.D.,) and he is one good judge of character.   And, as for that “Boss” business, if you want an interesting take on it, one you might have heard before, but one that seems to apply, you might go to: .

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Morningbrain, one more time.

Morningbrain, one more time.

God works in mysterious ways, or so it is said, and this morning he has given me thoughts from the day before to keep me from my sleep.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.  What to do?  Write, of course.

Yesterday, I had just finished collecting the various items we thought we needed that were defined on the 3x5 pad on the refrigerator.  I had been in Walmart and was in its parking lot, proceeding to unload my shopping cart into the trunk of my trusted steed, our Mitsubishi, when a man walked up and asked if I had a few dollars I could spare that he could use to buy something to eat.  This has happened before, and I said “sure.” 

Pulling my wallet from my back pocket, opening it to help him with his request, I told him if he had the nerve to ask, I certainly would not say no.  What’s the point?  Well, the credit cards were all there, but there was not a single one, two, five, ten, or twenty there, only that folded up hundred that I may or may not even have noticed at the time.  Sorry, I said, nothing but cards.  The guy wandered off.  I watched him as I finished up my business and sat down before the steering wheel.  Then I remembered the change that was always in the pocket of one of the doors.  Yep, enough there, I thought.  I started the car.  I could still see the man.

What happened next?  Well, perhaps this is where God took over.  The cars in the parking lot did not seem to want to cooperate with my need to drive to where I had last seen the man.  While I waited for a couple of them to move, I saw him walking towards Whiskey Road.  Still time, I thought.  The cars had other ideas.  He walked through some bushes at the edge of the lot.  I drove to the stop light near where he had gone.  Another car, turning right, was in front of me.  Not much traffic, but the car just sat there.  It did turn, after another minute, and I followed.  No man.  No man anywhere.  I put the change back in the door pocket and proceeded to drive home.  He would not get his couple of bucks, and I would have to be satisfied with knowing I had tried.

I’ve often thought I never would have to worry about having to worry about how to get a camel through the eye of a needle.  While my wife and I aren’t exactly rich, neither of us has missed a meal, or gone to bed hungry, (or wondered if we going to find a place to sleep that night, for that matter,) in a long, long time.  Maybe I do need to think about how I might get that camel through the eye of that needle.  “Rich,” like everything else, is relative.  So now I am up at 4:30, typing, instead of sleeping.

Thank you Lord.

Hope your man got some supper.