Support Obama’s Hope


Here we go!  Another feeble attempt to reach out and make new friends across the width and breadth of this great land, across the ocean to the shores of Europe and Asia, to all ships at sea.  It is time to get back to basics, by that I mean, “Love It Or Leave It.”

If you don’t like who got elected fine, go over there to those countries that we are building roads and bridges in, for people who ride donkeys to work, and watch your own kids go to bed at night hungry.  Go over there and bitch about the government and then complain about the room they give you with the bars on the windows and the smelly bucket in the corner for a commode.  Eat your bowl of gruel, laced with maggots for flavor, just get outta here.

Is America ready to rise like a real champion? Can we rise out of the ashes of the fire like the mythical Phoenix and soar again?  A hard question and I am not sure if we have the answers anymore.  We seem to have lost our moral compass, broken down our system of tried and true values, basically have trashed our Constitution and chucked it out the window.

As a friend of mine is fond of saying,

“We have thrown the baby out with the bathwater.”

Personally despite what Bush and his crew keep telling me, I don’t feel like a winner.  When the bridge you are driving on collapses and you end up in the river, will you feel like a winner then?

It’s no victory for our country to have a broken and depleted military, a broken and depleted economy, with so much work to be done at home on issues of health care, poverty, infrastructure, education, environment, and perhaps, most of all, security.

And it’s no victory, that in attacking the wrong country, we boosted the enemy’s recruitment worldwide 500% and continue to bleed here at home.  Finally, it is no victory for our children, reared in an America of such divisive antipathy, enormous debt, and tarnished standing.  I shudder to even remotely consider what kind of world my precious grandchildren are going to inherit.

Despite recent boasts to the contrary, our country is not safer. It is not safer from without, and it is not safer from within. Building a fence on the border isn’t working … None of this is really working; it has been dysfunctional for a long, long time.  We are just two ticks on the clock away from a suitcase bomb and we all know it.

The divisiveness brought on by the policies of George W. Bush and his supporters such as John McCain has created an emotional civil war. We have to ask ourselves, at what point emotions may even turn to violence here at home.  When will the jackbooted police be knocking on your door.  They have tapped your phones, compiled their inaccurate lists, and now read your mail.

What is coming next?

The American press is in shambles and just whispers, it has lost its voice.  By and large, the media is going to do what’s good for the media. If that means covering the land for fashion, or fraud, or real issues, you can assume fashion their more likely target. While Americans died in the Middle East, Big Daddy Rumsfield was voted one of People Magazine’s sexiest men.  Cheney shot a lawyer.  Britney showed us her muff and Hollywood went into Detox on a regular basis, Mel Gibson shared his religious preferences, more people voted for the winner of American Idol than for Bush.

And all the while, the press pretended to be giving us the news.

Television and radio are not much better.  Talk show hosts are going to continue to dispense their misinformation and stir the collective juices and soul of the country to their amusement.  They are going to keep digging up a dead horse every day, just to see if it smells bad, and they are not going to give us sane and reasonable alternatives.

Don’t buy into it … You have a choice … your options are right there in your hand … it is called a mute button or channel selector.

Why settle for Oatmeal, when you can have steak?  Do you really miss Sarah?  Who cares.  Palin has as much as admitted that she has no interest whatsoever in any culture but her own. Fine, I am glad that the electorate sent her home.  It is that kind of lacking in basic curiosity and the void of insight or downright common sense, that comes with it which personified George Bush’s embarrassing Texas Country-folksy failings.  We have all had enough of that.

Alaska when you get right down to the brass tacks of it, is basically a welfare state to begin with.  Very little industry, heavily subsidized by the U.S. Government, who needs more of that?  And recently they re-elected a convicted felon.  Someone needs to put the brakes on this crap.

This is, for lack of a better word, simply the worst political climate in modern times. If we are to support hope, in a cycle of history that may be its last, then non-support for an elected president was a vote for cowardice. A vote not backed up by demand and participation, is an impotent one. A vote for hope followed by demand and action to realize it — is an American vote.

We voted this November, because we are Americans … This is our chosen method of doing things.  We changed the flow or slowed the tide in our country by voting with our imaginations.  A record number of our citizenry decided it is time, high time, to take a new approach to our problems.

As Erma or Ann, Margaret & Helen, or one of them gals would say …. Wake Up And Smell the Coffee.

We voted on a ticket of hope.  Some voted their conscience.  We voted to bring the boys home from a cesspool of indifference.  And as Joe Biden says, “We voted for our patriotic duty to make a better world for our children by paying higher taxes.”

No matter how you voted … Whatever it or “whom” it was … it is now time to support them … not bitch about it.  If none of this suits you and you do decide to leave, stop by Costco on the way out of town for your personal survival kit.

Me … I am staying put … I like it here.



“The cartoon courtesy of Center for American Progress” (online)

News Of The Weird

I was supposed to post this on Friday, but a family member lost her bout with Cancer and died this weekend.  Her name was Cecil Marie Bennett and she was my aunt.  This is why this did not make it on Friday.  In memory of Marie, I post this, and trust that she is now in a pain free place, and a better all around world than the one she left.  She will be missed.


Radio girl has been sending back all of these wonderful pictures of her vacation in Mexico, and doing pieces each day on who, what, when, where and why.  If you have not been checking in on them, you are missing out.  I am not in Mexico, and I am not sitting in the sun drinking shooters and wiggling my toes in the sand.  I envy her.

Boxcar doesn’t drink anymore, perhaps imbibing on a “regular basis” would improve my disposition, but in the past I have found it to be more of a detrimental nature than a positive boost.

So now I just pass on the libations, a shot of butter milk in a clean glass is about as risqué as I get.  I no longer go out on Friday nite and “get drunk and be somebody” I just stay home and glean the TV Guide.  If I was perhaps fortunate enough to be in Mexico, this is where you would find me.  LAID BACK IN MEXICO

When I get up in the morning, that is about as good as I am going to feel all day long.  Having being a refugee or survivor from the sixties, it is now my desire, to finish out what is left of my life, sober, sane, and enjoying a pretty mundane lifestyle here in the Heart Land.

In other words, I am a fairly boring person, ask my therapist.

You can reach her by going thru my HMO her name is Isis Santori-Bernstein, she is a psychic and herbal-wrap therapist from Santa Barbara, California, but now lives here in the last vast bastion of good community living left in the United States of America …. Yukon, Oklahoma.

Joe the War Correspondent. Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, aka “Joe the Plumber,” is taking on a new job as a war correspondent. He is heading to Israel to cover the war for the conservative site Wurzelbacher said his 10-day journey will help explain why Israeli forces are mounting attacks against Hamas:  I get to go over there and let their “Average Joes” share their story, what they think, how they feel – especially with, you know, world opinion. Maybe get a real story out there.

Watch it:  Last October, Wurzelbacher claimed that Obama’s victory would mean “death to Israel,” leading Fox News reporter Shep Smith to call him “frightening.” Wurzelbacher also questioned Obama’s loyalty to the U.S., and has justified the invasion and occupation of Iraq by claiming “it’s like someone coming to Jesus and becoming saved.”

Welcome home boys, thank you for your service to the country.

This cannot be true, but it apparently is.  In a change of regulations, the Pentagon began saving money by reducing “combat-injury” benefits for all except those wounded while actually fighting.  This, in examples offered by The Washington Post, Marine Cpl. James Dixon and Army Sgt. Lori Meshell were not entitled to full combat-injury coverage for their Iraq wounds.  Dixon from a roadside IED bomb and a land mine, and Meshell while diving for cover during a mortar attack.

Because neither was “actually fighting” at the time, the Pentagon says that they do not qualify.  Dixon who was denied some $16,000 recently won a reversal on his claim, and Meschell, who is drawing $1200 a month because of the change is still appealing.  And Bush stands at the podium and accepts an award from our armed services and thanks the boys (two weeks ago) and then there is this ….. What a crock.

Lousy week for comments.

I don’t know what it is, but I can leave a comment somewhere, and I suppose they come back and look me over (check the link) and then I do not get posted for some reason?  It could be that they think I am fishing for hits, which is a real hoot, when we consistently average something like 8-10k per day in visitors.

We don’t have to Phish for hits.

This week I have posted at least 8-10 comments and not one of those suckers made it thru.  All of them being totally benign and nothing of a controversial nature.  I am starting to get paranoid about all this.  Most of my posts here on are not being posted where they are sent, and that is hacking me off.  About one in three make it where they are “supposed to go” and that is irritating.  Thanks a lot and now I have this comments thing going down.

Hello, welcome to

Please share your thought on issues, after writing your message press the “post comments” button, fill in the super secret random code of letters that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, hit your refresh browser button, stick your right finger in your left ear, click your heels together three times and make a wish … We will hold your comment in moderation until roughly when Hell Freeze’s over or until the Boston Red Sox or Detroit Lions, win a national championship, whichever comes first.

Sorry, as it is my nature to share, I thought I would give that to you to take with you for the weekend.

Finally men shoppers in Tokyo.  The Wishroom lingerie shop on Japan’s Internet shopping mall Rakuren announced that it had already sold more than 300 of its new bras specially madE for men (yes, you read that right, I said for “men” about $30 each girls, eat your hearts out girls!) since the product was launched earlier this year.  A Wishroom official told a reporter that “We’ve been getting feedback from our customers saying “We have been waiting for this for a long time.”

Warning:  This is not pretty.

Our comment lines are now open and we have operators standing by to take your remarks, all of you whose names start with A thru M are invited to dive in and voice your best.

Have a good weekend.


“The cartoon courtesy of Center for American Progress” (online)

Big Tipper


Now knowing me, I want to start off with something funny and sassy like:  “I didn’t know Al’s wife had put on weight, how does she look?” But a great majority of you possibly do not remember that Al Gore’s wife was named “Tipper.”

So I won’t do that today.

This is not about his wife anyway.  We went out to eat on Saturday with some friends, Tessa and Jay.  We went to a place called the “Catfish Cabin” and they have this very large and sumptuous buffet (which stands for Big Ugly Fat Folks Eating Together) and nice spread.  We have been there many times in the past, the food is good, the ambiance is okay, and we are comfortable there.

We ate a good meal, we sat around and visited a little and then it came time to leave.

So our friends ventured, “We will pay for the meal, you get the tip.” So I readily agreed, sounded like a good deal to me, and that is that.  I reach into my pocket, feel the fresh crisp paper currency with my hand, bring it out and toss it on the table at the same time I am talking to my friend Jay and of course slipping into my jacket so that the cold winter Oklahoma night doesn’t freeze me too death.

You see I am really good at multi-tasking, have I ever shared that with y’all, well, I am.

So everything is fine, and then out of the clear blue, appears our waiter server guy and he is just overjoyed to see us, he says, “You folks came back again!  We are sooooooooooo glad that you came by, please don’t be a stranger.”

And then goes on and on.

Afterwards Jay looks at me and says, “Man, that guy was sure glad to see us.  What is up with that?” and I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “I dunno.” We said our respective goodbyes and did the obligatory woman hug in the parking lot and then headed out in our own separate directions, another good dinner and some fellowship, end of a night.

Saturday Nite In The Big Town.  Payday-tight-shoe-money night.

Next morning, we are up early, getting ready to go out to breakfast, and I am putting on my pants.  The wife she says, “Do you have to go to the bank?” and I said, “Naw, got it right here in my pocket, $41 dollars.” Then I reach into my pants, feel the paper money in the pocket, retrieve it and pull it out.

There it is …. 1 five, and 2 fresh, brand new ONE DOLLAR bills!

You see, the three bills I fished out of my pocket at the Catfish Cabin were the two twenties and the one single, breakfast money for the next day, and the three bills in my hand the next morning were for the tip.

During all of my efficient off the charts multi-tasking my priorities somehow reversed on me.  So ends the mystery of the enthusiastic waiter server person.  We now know.

Well time to go, getting a little verbose here over nothing.  When I get some spare time later on, I will tell you how we went to the Mall on Sunday after breakfast and my lovely wife bought me a brand new money clip.

And it wasn’t even my birthday!


I am Not God

Contrary to popular belief the rumors are not true.

I truly may have been blessed among men.  I can write something stupid or off the cuff, and inspire the passion of a nation to send me one thousand emails implying that I should be sleeping in a bed infested with the fleas of a thousand camels, or sitting under a sick horse somewhere outside Bozeman, Montana atoning for my sins.

I can write I had an eargasm this week, which is the sensation one gets hearing a dramatic climax in music — Or I nearly had an eargasm while listening to his performance of Rachmaninoff’s Piano concerto No.2 and I will get emails from every Tom, Dick & Harry within 200 miles.  Objections from deep in the Piney Woods outside of Macon, Georgia or the foothills outside Provo, Utah.

The Chairman of the Board Of Directors of Good Family Living will reply within two days.  I could possibly be the subject of contention on The View by next Wednesday morning.  So stupid me, I write a poem about George Bush and I make mention of Christianity and now I am forced to admit that I am not God.

Forgive me … But there is a definite need this day to dispel a rumor that has appeared here recently.  This rumor that I am God or that I think I am God, or I have somehow irritated God, or that I simply do not believe in God.  (which should be between me and God, don’tcha think?)

So I stand ready to defend the work.  To answer the questions of:  “Who are you, to assume that you are good enough to go to Chicago and sit on Oprah’s couch?” And a host of other complaints in the past couple of days.  It appears that prayer or comments toward religion from a heathen such as myself are taboo.  Which is ludicrous.

All of this is simply not true.

I do believe in God, Mom, The Flag and Apple Pie.

So as the first prayer was so dog-gone popular and I never seem to learn, here we go again.  Dear Lord, grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones that I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.  Amen.

Now that I am older (but refuse to grow up) here is what I have discovered.  I have just as much talent as anyone else, I have the right to go to Chicago and talk to whom I want, I am totally unique.

Just like everyone else in this world.

What I am is remarkable, tenacious, and I guess it would be safe to say, in it for the long haul.  No flash in the pan here, just me, an ordinary guy.  Not saintly, enlightening, prophetic, miracle working, just an ordinary guy.  I haven’t even come close to — I have seen and heard enough.

Sometimes when I sit here in my basement, alone, no one around but me and the mushrooms, I have to admit, I am quite the person, “THE” catch of the day, the absolute-best-what-have-you there is on the block.  I adore little children, and puppies, not in that particular order.  Somewhat fond of Californians, but do not like pretentious intellectuals and snobs.  I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice.  I have been known to remodel trains stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention.  I love City Hall and it’s employee’s.

In my spare time I have been known to translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees.  I write award winning operas.  Manage time efficiently.  Can effectively deal with Road Rage.  I have more than once shook hands with the governors of many states without the benefit of hand sanitizer.  I can fix a small oooowie on a child’s finger, I write poetry — “Fifty bucks is fifty bucks, I am not made out of money — I just topped my truck off at fifty-one eighty and that aint chicken feed honey.

(thank you very much)

Thanks to a teacher and all the many handlers in my life, I can add and subtract, smell a rat in the woodpile every now and then.  I know the EXACT amount of bubble bath to add to a regular sized bathtub.  I use to part my hair on the left, now I just part it all over the place.  I only take a half of tab of Viagra because the bride said “she just wants to cuddle,” Waffles excite me now, but my eggs are never scrambled.

Coffee, black, two sugars, no conversation.  I hammer, I paint, scrape and sand, I am a regular This Old Spouse, I am after all, handy around the house.  I am so dog-gone good I could possibly re-decorate your bedroom or your home.

I don’t know what part of the chicken the McNugget comes from.  I can tread water for three days in a row.  I woo women with my sensuous and Godlike trombone playing.  I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed.  I cook Thirty Minute Meals in a little under twenty minutes.  I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in the War of Love, and an outlaw in some parts of Peru.

I buy my shoes at K-Mart, underarm deodorant at ChinaMart, I pay all of my bills on time, especially those I owe to the City.  I never ever cheat on my taxes, believe in UFO’s and Roswell, New Mexico, and I write on the Internet for fun and for profit.  Mostly fun here lately.  I hiked the Grand Canyon once in my youth, rode down to the bottom and back on lopped ear mule named Sarah, not to be confused with the current elected governor of some state in the frozen north..

Having two recently installed crowns and one chipped tooth, I have a fetching smile, which cost about $2500 and some change if I remember it right.  Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious Army Ants.  I play Blue Grass Cello, I was scouted by the New York Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries.  When I am bored I build large, scale model, suspension bridges in my backyard.

But I am not God.


Doom And Gloom


The sky is falling!  The sky is falling!  Remember that old nursery rhyme?

What about that Indian in Lil’ Abner, he walked around every where, all day long, with this huge black cloud hanging over his head, threatening to rain.

Everyone it seems is ready to throw in the towel.  Well not me, I got a little left, bring it on.

Even president Obama seemingly is hyperventilating. In Sunday’s speech, before the inauguration, he said “I stand here today as hopeful as ever that the United States will endure.”

Endure?  What, we close up shop and no one told me?

As one reporter on FOX put it:  “Did he think the country might actually go out of business? Merge with France? Sell out to Wal-Mart? That we might decide that Citigroup was too frail, Iraq too complex and our waistlines too bulging to carry on? What did he mean?”

To come to the point quickly, I know all about “endure.”

I just finished eight years of it!

I remember when Cup Cake was sick and she was in the hospital, the doctors were having a little difficulty pin-pointing what was the cause of her condition (blood infection).  She began to have a pity party for one, and was lamenting the fact that “she was going to die.”  So in an effort to cheer her up and bolster her worrisome position I said, “don’t be silly, you owe wayyyyyy too much money to die.”  And that seemed to work.

Same thing here, America is in a tight vise right now, economically speaking, but the rest of it is working out just fine. The voice of doom prognosticators and the media Sooth-Sayers are saying that we are on the edge of our national death bed and surely, the world as we know it is coming to an end.

Aint so.

We are for the most parts, holding our heads above water and things are looking rather good.  Look around, check it out.  Wall Street and the Banker’s are doing better (since we gave them what they wanted) and other than a lousy economy (which we have had before) things are not all that bad.

Take into consideration the Green Initiative being proposed.  At the very least, taking a bold step to do this ourselves instead of farming it out to foreign concerns, the Green Initiative stands to produce some two million jobs.  If we just reach down and grab our bootstraps, roll up our sleeves and get busy, we can turn this thing around in a matter of a few short years.

Advances in technology are improving our standard of living, medicines are improving our health and our longevity, we can now literally reach out to the planet and the world is at our finger tips.  This blog is a good example of that, it is in 170 countries worldwide and it didn’t even exist at this time last year.

USA!  USA!  I aint much … but baby I am all you got.

I like it here, we are living longer, we have 8 out of 10 serious diseases in full retreat.  Our lights are still on, there is still something in the cabinet to eat, and I didn’t fly down to Texas to retire in the Dark Ages of Midland.  Crime is down, been going down for at least ten years now, despite the fact that we lost the war on drugs a long, long time ago.

No more junk mail from MasterCard, Visa or DiscoverCard, my old hoopie is still running and American Idol is back replete with Simon, Randy and Paula … Even kind of dig the new chick, I think she is cool.

I am doing alright.

We have come a long, long ways down the proverbial beaten path, and we are not down and out, not just yet.  None of this signifies the end of civilization or democracy as I know it.  Socially, economically, and technologically speaking, we have made a leap of unparalleled personal and economic freedom, and we will recover.

All you have to do is “see the glass as already broken and everything else too.”  Once you get past that, the rest of it is just a cakewalk to better times.


Still Puttin Out

It’s Okay, we are all different … Remember that.

Today is my second day of being a “Media Whore” and I seem to be fine with it.  I do note this morning that an Australian tourist board is searching for someone to blog about living on an island in the Great Barrier Reef.  Applicants must be willing to live in an oceanfront villa, swim in the pool, snorkel the reef, and lie on the beach.  How much does it pay you ask?  The six month position pays $100,000.00 u.s.  Sign me up!  It sounds like a tough job, but someone is going to do it, might as well be me.

You Have To Be Kidding Me.

So here I sit, reading USA Today, page 2B, Thursday January 23rd, and there it is.  “HOW TO MAKE MILLIONS BUYING BAD LOANS” from your kitchen table (of all places) and now here comes the really good part … without spending a penny of your own money! And I am sorry, but I had to think to myself … Isn’t that how we got into the mess to begin with? The ad goes on to tell you about some kind of financial superman who made billions “after going broke” during the financial mess, and he can show you how to do the same. Pass.

Oh that?  You found about that did you?

You might find this amusing and you might not.  Treasury Secretary designate Timothy Geithner’s confirmation hit a snag this week, when they announced he was some $34K short in paying his income taxes plus interest.  Now let’s see, “you can not operate Turbo Tax and you are going to be put in charge of the U.S. Treasury.”  What is wrong with this picture?

Friday in the Big City.

Nothing out of the ordinary coming my way that I know of, and I seem to be holding up rather well.  The government is reporting that they have found “bird parts” on the USA flight that went down in the Hudson River, and divers have located the missing engine.  I don’t know a whole lot about most of this, but I know that if I am ever on a plane that goes down, I want Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger to be the pilot.

Man!  What a take charge guy that pilot seemed to be.  And low and behold, I have heard it for years, and it turns out to be true.  “In case of a water landing your seat will serve as a floatation device.”  In this case, it was the entire airplane.  Homeland Security has solved the crash and has released pictures of the culprits and you can view them here.

To be or not to be … that is the question — Opps, sorry about that.

A loaded gun was accidentally used during a rehearsal of a Florida play at a Senior Citizen Center and the bullet grazed the ear of another actor.  He was reportedly doing fine after being checked at a local hospital.

Give it back!  Dog-gone it Martha, give it back!

A New York man is suing his ex-wife for a kidney.  In 2001 when she was desperate for a kidney, he donated one of his to her, and now that they are divorcing he is demanding it back or she can buy it from him for a palsy $1.5 million dollars.  Good luck on that one.

Here is another victim of the bad economy for you.  It is now being reported that “lawyers” are having a tough go of it, as more and more Americans decide to stick together and ride it out. When you are fighting a case and have the facts on your side, hammer away at the facts.  If you have the law on your side, hammer away with the law.  If you live in Oklahoma and you are representing yourself, take the Okie defense — hammer away on the table.  No good huh?

Okay, wait, wait.

What if you are a lawyer and you go to the restaurant and you don’t like what they offer — Do you ask for a change of menu?

Yeah, I know, move on.

Things are getting pretty bad, Burger King offered a free Whopper to anyone who would un-friend 10 people from their Facebook accounts.  Some 200,000 people suddenly found themselves friendless in America.  And I stood there dumbfounded wondering why the line was so long.

Spit it out Pedro.

Zapatos after Mexico City launched a campaign urging citizens to swallow their gum rather than spit it on the street.  Officials there say the average square yard of sidewalk in the city has 70 globs of discarded gum.

Slow and steady … Slow and steady.

A friend of mine handed me a Rubik’s cube one night and showed me how it worked.  He then mixed it all up and said, “See if you can figure that one out?” and left me with it.  As I am a pilgrim of very little patience, about 72 hours later, I dropped it in the trash compactor and hit the button.  One very dead Rubik’s cube, much to the dismay of my friend.

A British man has finally solved the Rubik’s Cube after 26 years of trying.

Construction worker Graham Parker, now 45, first picked up the puzzle in 1983 at the peak of its global popularity, and though it stymied him, he kept at it obsessively after the world moved on.  “I have had wrist and back problems form spending hours on it” said Parker, “but it was all worth it.  When I clicked the last bit into place and each face was a solid color, I wept.”

You think that is bad, you ought to be a Media Whore in America and cannot locate your pimp.  Now that is rough.

What am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?


Care For Another? Loose Change.