Don’t Shoot the Messenger

Here’s some fair warning: please strap yourself into your seat.  We’re going to take a rocky ride through today’s story.

A recent school shooting in Florida left 17 people dead and numerous others injured.  Immediately, the press and students rose in unison to demand those responsible should be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

Varying ideas have been floated for the past several weeks since.  Anti-gun Michael Bloomberg and weak-minded students, alike, have entered the fray to demand those nasty-looking AR-15 rifles be outlawed, and the people who pulled the trigger through this ugly attack – the National Rifle Association – should be summarily jailed.

People with common sense know the NRA had nothing to do with the sale, manufacture, distribution, training, or operation of the murderer’s gun.  Still, so many whiners feel the need to target the “low hanging fruit.”

They quickly point to “illegal arms bazaars,” also known as gun shows, which do not permit Federal Firearms License vendors to sell their wares willy-nilly.  That’s a lie.

So before you do buy one, keep in mind you are required to complete a state and federal form which poses questions such as ‘have you ever been convicted of domestic abuse,’ and ‘are you currently using illegal drugs,’ and ‘have you ever been treated for psychological problems.’

If you answer those questions with a lie, you are breaking the law.  Amen.  Nothing asks about your sexual proclivity or type of bicycle you ride, or if you duck hunt.

Florida, much like every other state, has a problem with texting drivers.  If you haven’t left your abode since the Captain and Tennille were married, you may not know everyone has a cell phone, and they like texting.

Texting is the action by which communicators type messages to one-another, not because they enjoy typing, but because they hate talking to the person with whim they are writing.

They are able to ignore your text with impunity.  Yes, those same folks who will answer their phone in front of you to take a call from someone else will not answer your call because they are busy chatting with another “friend.”

In any case, texting is acceptable except when they are driving.  Yes, that 2500 pound vehicle you’re maneuvering whilst motoring down I-95, becomes a dangerous weapon which has killed many innocent people over the past few years.

Enter State Senator Rob Bradley –R, from Fleming Island in God’s Waiting Room, aka: Florida, says “NO!” to regulating texting behind the wheel because of police invading drivers’ privacy, and minorities being treated unfairly.  Yep.  I can't make this stuff up.

It’s just plain racist for this political clown to not be addressing equally important and life-threatening matters because blacks would be targeted more than other races.  Ain't that racist?

Here’s a staggering number: According to the National Highway Traffic and Safety Administration, about 660,000 drivers use electronic devices on America’s roads on any given day.  That led to 391,000 people injured in distracted-driving accidents in 2015.  Additionally, 3,477 were killed.  That’s a lot more than 17.

Sen. Rob Bradley needs to find another job outside of being a racist idiot. 

By the way, the Florida House passed a texting bill by a vote of 112-2.  It seems as though there are two nitwits serving the public in the Florida Senate.

At Last

Nearly every day I try to tackle some project.  Some days it involves the mundane task of yard work – planting, mowing, trimming, shaping hedges, and watering.  And eventually I discover a skill I didn’t realize previously.

For instance, mowing the lawn in one direction rather than the other can make your yard appear larger.  Adding fertilizer to the hole before the potted plant will dramatically aid in its growth.   Watering at a particular time will prevent root rot and diseases in your lawn.

Over the course of time, I attended elementary school with other kids who seemed to possess extraordinary skills in artistry.

It was sixth grade, and Sister Agnes instructed the class to draw a horse.  We all had the same typing-style paper, and rulers, along with erasers.

I was up for the challenge and began sketching in a manner I felt Pierre-Auguste Renoir would envy.  Long strokes, some shading and size variances for depth would give my pony the edge of the rest of the class’.

Trees and tall grasses were added to mask the awkward equine legs of my palomino.  Alas, nothing but an alien abduction could save me from this disaster.  My horse looked as though it was the victim of a train wreck.

I casually glanced over at Janice Marciniak’s sketch only to discover she had some museum-quality masterpiece produced by Bob Ross.  It was an amazing rendition that seemed as though it could jump off the page and run at Saratoga, and win!

It was about that time I came to realize drawing and sketching was not going to be part of my career.  I am so bad, I actually avoid people who play Pictionary.  But I digress.

Just recently I spotted a police sketch that was a depiction of a wanted criminal.

The police description indicated this person-of-interest was either Asian or South American.  Not necessarily know to resemble Chinese people, Peruvians should not be compared to other peoples from the opposite side of the planet.  I'm just saying...

Actual police-issued drawing and photo

In any case, a witness to this crime drew their own rendition of this wanted person, who was subsequently identified as Hunt Phuoc Nguyen. 

As you can see, this fellow is likely of Vietnamese persuasion, not Argentinian.

But the important part of this essay is that the witness drawing of Mr. Nguyen looked very much like my sixth grade horse.

Lancaster Pennsylvania Police stated online that, “While the sketch provided by the witness may have appeared amateurish and cartoonish, it, along with the distinctive physical descriptors, jogged the memory of at least one investigator to provide a potential suspect name.”

This is all good news because it has renewed my faith in the fact I may truly be an artist who is just finding his talent.  In fact, I may apply for a job as a police sketch artist based on the ability of law enforcement to locate their wanted criminals through rough drawings with which they were working.

After all these decades, I finally can say Sister Agnes would be proud, and Janice would be jealous beyond words.

Nya, nya, nya!

Think Before You Speak

I am here to confess that I am not an authority on much in this world.

Each of my days begins with a cup of coffee to wash down a handful of prescription pills and supplements.

While I am choking down this cocktail of pharmaceuticals I try to figure out how to productively proceed with the balance of my day.

I treat every day as though it was my last because it may very well be.   A physical ailment, a la heart attack, traffic collision, errant meteor, home invasion, ladder fall, or a Steinway piano falling out of a 757 jetliner, could all cause me to breathe my last breath.

I don’t dwell on dying; I dwell on living.

So it was with interest that I have been following the goat rodeo that occurred in Florida at the hands of some loser.

The puke who murdered 17, and wounded numerous others, is a coward.  He attacked a “soft” target – one that has very little in the way of protection, because he could kill more people more easily.

Broward County, Florida, has a weak sheriff who employs equally coward-like deputies to protect the members-at-large in his community.  This is where that senseless shooting occurred.

Broward County Sheriff Scott Israel is another loser who is afraid of guns in the hands of the average citizen.

Ignorant Nitwits

We often get quotes from law enforcement regarding armed citizens.  The standard line is, “At least we got another gun off the streets.” Or, “We need to get all guns off the streets.”

This sentiment is painful to honest, law-abiding members of society who are careful with their firearms, exercising safety while engaging in self protection.  People protect themselves because law enforcement can’t or won’t.

Sheriff Israel feels an AR-15 in my hands should be forbidden because, like his deputies, he, too, is a coward.  He has little concern about the Second Amendment; people with whom he disagrees should lose their rights.

And those high school kids that feel it necessary to make everyone hear their feelings are free to do so.  That is a right.  Just as killing babies through abortion is a Constitutional right.  For the record, over 900,000 innocent children were aborted in 2016, alone.

So as Sheriff Israel and school shooting protesters cherry pick their causes, they blindly aim their ire at anyone except those who deserve it.

Somehow, faulty logic is inserted about the National Rifle Association, innocent AR-15 owners, large-capacity magazines, Avis car rental, and even President Donald Trump being responsible for these senseless shootings.

It is time for the truth.

When I was born in the 1950’s there were only 48 states.  World War II had recently ended, and the Korean War/Conflict was in full swing. 

Surplus guns from WWII were plenty and were easily available via mail-order.

Ads in virtually every print magazine offered 1911 pistols for $6, Italian Carcano rifles for $18, M-1 carbines for $11, and trophy German Lugers for less than $25.

These were all popular and affordable, as ammunition was readily available for roughly a penny per round.  Many Japanese rifles and Mauser rifles were converted to hunting configurations with new or refinished stocks, and telescopic sights.

The most amazing part of all this is that any of these tools of war could be purchased with a simple Post Office Money Order.  They were sold to anyone without a background check or even identification.  Six bucks got you a pistol that now sells for over $1,000.

I, as a sixth, eighth, 10^th, or 12^th grader could own one for some lawn-mowing money.

But I didn’t, because we kids settled our differences in less violent and deadly manners; we knew better.

In 1963, President John F. Kennedy was killed with one of these mail-order rifles purchased and used by Lee Harvey Oswald.  This tragedy caused the Gun Control Act of 1968, effectively ending mail order guns.  Period.

Some 23,000 gun laws later and anti-Second Amendment nitwits are now blaming honest, legal gun owners for their woes.

Just remember, after September 11, 2001, America cried together to protect Muslims who were not guilty of anything other than belonging to a particular religion.  We were told not to group all Muslims together because they did nothing wrong.

How about applying that same theory to AR-15 owners and the NRA who likewise did nothing wrong.

Amen

Another Stellar Idea

Many years ago the movie, and relatively new, television industries introduced something pretty special into their wares – subliminal messaging and subliminal advertising.

It seems as though popcorn and soft drink sales were down at the movie houses.  Rather than coming up with a plan to sell more by lowering prices or improving the taste of both, they felt it was far more practical to feed their patrons secret messages to simply buy more.

If you never heard of such a thing, you’re in for a treat.

Subliminal messaging is akin to brainwashing.  Every so often throughout the movie unnoticeable frames, previously inserted by the powers-that-be contained messages such as Drink more soda, Enjoy fresh popcorn, and Don’t forget the candy.

These generic suggestions to viewers were largely unnoticed for years.  I was unable to find any statistics on whether or not this tactic was actually successful in prodding patrons to consume more food and drink.  Still, the method was implemented.

Television folks thought that was a really good idea and climbed into bed with advertisers to do the same thing to their TV shows.  This time, though, they would insert “advertisements” for actual products rather than just soda or popcorn or candy.

For example, Jiffy Pop, Pepsi, and Hershey Bars, subliminal ads would be included in the shows.  Note: I used these examples as just that – there are no correlations to these actual products that were known to be used subliminally.

All this mental trickery seemed like a stellar idea, until the time it was exposed, that is.

Suddenly the backward shuffle and the finger pointing two-step dances were born.  Public apologies and crow dinners were aplenty on Madison Avenue and Hollywood, alike.

To prove they were not ‘down for the count,’ these marketing geniuses tried their hand at something called product placement.

Product placement is that special time in, for instance, an action movie when the bad guys are involved in a car chase.  Somewhere down the road a beer truck with Molson Golden Ale prominently displayed across the side, is blocking the roadway.

Or, in the vein of fairness, two women – a black woman and Asian woman – are physically fighting in a warehouse.  During this hand-to-hand battle, they precariously hang over an industrial railing and fall some 15-feet onto luckily placed cartons of Charmin toilet paper.  And their fall is broken.  After all, it’s squeezably soft.

Those wind up being memorable moments that are paid for by the beer and toilet paper companies.  That box of cereal, coffee creamer, and automobile, used by the actors are also sponsored by the respective companies.

So it was with great interest that I wondered why some other products were not capitalizing on what could be rather lucrative product placements, adding to subsequent sales because of being used by “professionals.”

Football, NASCAR, soccer, and most other sports-related activities have all jumped onto the “Official” product of the moment.

The official beer of NASCAR, the official car of golf, the official drool cup of football, the official pillow of soccer, are all examples of professionals using some sort of product.

While watching one of those verity cop shows, I noticed the frequency with which people are stopped by the police for any number of reasons; broken tail light, weaving across the road, speeding, all leading to a traffic stop.

Invariably, inside the offending vehicle are found drugs.  Pills, methamphetamines, crack cocaine, weed, heroin, are regularly discovered somewhere at the scene.  Either under the seat, in the glove box, on the perpetrator, are just a few of the normal places the pharmaceutical treasure hunt ends.

These caches of drugs are often packaged in plastic baggies, plastic envelopes, or in glassine pouches.

This is where Glad should be advertising.  I’m pretty certain their plastic bag products are at more than a few crime scenes.

 

Their new ads could be proudly placed among the other advertisements during these cop shows.  They could demonstrate how their bags can be torn to easily accommodate crack rocks and reefer, alike.  Their new line of baggies could be manufactured with eight corners instead of the conventional four; this would allow dope dealers to package more product by getting twice as many corners from a conventional baggie.

Here’s a slogan idea:  Glad.  Nine out of ten druggies prefer Glad for their dope needs.

I need to go and wait by the phone for a call from Glad to become head of their advertising department.

You’re welcome.

He Was Right

It’s generally acknowledged that Mark Twain popularized the phrase, “Lies, damned lies, and statistics.”  Those words are often used to bolster weak arguments through the use of statistics.

The reason this phrase came to my mind is because I recently lost another person on my list of acquaintances, friends, relatives, lovers, and enemies.  This list is getting shorter and shorter by the day, and I needed a bit of sane analysis for this trend.

Nothing says "class" like a camouflage-lined casket

Recalling some of the television and radio programs I regularly tune-in, many have been fixated on health matters, lately.

In recent years, America has been flooded with professional National Anthem kneelers donning pink socks, decals, and uniform patches, for specially-designated months to make people aware of women’s breast cancer.

Magnetic pink ribbons and nearly non-stop public service announcements repeatedly blast public America about finding a cure for this killer disease.

Just a few short years prior, we were inundated with the socially conscious of us wearing cheesy rubber bracelets, whose sale money went toward financing that ever-elusive cure.

Those causes included too many to mention here, but incorporated cancer, heart disease, spousal abuse, and clean water.

But to get back to those statistical mistruths from Mr. Twain, I thought it would be prudent to visit the interweb.  (Yep, I just conjured that word up.)

I quickly located many sites willing to help me get to the basics of why people die.

I queried “Number one killer in America.”

Oddly enough, boredom from watching Alec Baldwin movies was not one of them.

The answer from the U.S. Center for Disease Control was heart disease.  There were all sorts of varying qualifiers, though.  “In 2003, over 1,000,000 American men died of heart disease or one of nine other leading causes of death.”

Huh?

“Men are more likely than women to die from most of these causes.”

So what are those other nine?  Cancer, unintentional injuries, stroke, COPD, diabetes, influenza and pneumonia, suicide, kidney disease, and Alzheimer’s disease, is the list the CDC provided, in that order.

So I checked on the number one cause of death among women in America.

It seems as though heart disease is also numero uno in killing women.

 

But, but, but…

Yes, heart disease, not breast cancer, not poor parallel parking skills, not spending too much on purses; heart disease is the number one killer of women in America.

So armed with this newly acquired powerful information I set out to get to something definitive.

Men’s Health states “men are victims in 4 out of 5 homicides.  For African American men, who are victims 7 times more often than European American men, homicide is the fourth leading cause of death, and the number one killer for those ages 15 to 24.”

I read and reread this above paragraph seven times and now I’m only 40% sure about half of what I could comprehend.  There’s nothing like twisting the “facts.”

It just seems smarmy when statisticians need to include not only sex, but race in their formulae to justify making a point.

After all this combing the interweb, I discovered Mr. Twain was correct in his evaluation of number data. And, I now realize everyone is going to die regardless of the cause.

Bottom line: Just enjoy life while you can and hope you’re not a friend or acquaintance of mine, otherwise your days appear to be numbered.

Keep Out

In the event you’re reading this and never go to the beach, you may stop reading now.  Otherwise, this may be terribly significant to your rights and well-being when visiting The Shore.

This morning’s newspaper, AKA: fish wrapping paper, published an addendum to stories all summer long about area beaches.

During the summer months, inland folks look forward to visiting The Shore to not only buy salt water taffy and cheesy t-shirts, goofy hats, over-priced food truck fixin’s, and bug repellent, but also enjoy some time on the beach.

The beach is one of those places that is bittersweet, in nature.  It’s a place where you can relax with a book or magazine, get toasty warm, catch a nap, go fishing, and especially people-watch.

People-watching is an activity that involves relativity.  One sits at the edge of the water wearing sunglasses.  As strangers pass by, the viewer critiques the viewee’s posture, gait, size, cellulose, bathing attire, and overall appearance.

Once these less-than-perfect specimens pass, we mentally store that gathered information to use as fodder for one of those over-priced food truck dinners.  But I digress.

As children, we were warned to not sit in the sun without sunscreen, lest we eventually get skin cancer.  Some years ago, we were inundated with public service announcements regarding the dangers of melanoma.  We were shown pictures of oddly shaped freckles and things that were once called “beauty marks.”

We were carefully instructed to monitor and regularly measure these deformities to better enjoy long lives rather than succumb to this semi-preventable form of cancer.

So it was with interest that I closely followed the fish wrapping paper stories of the “Summer of ’17 Battle of the Minds.”  This is my term for this overreaching grab of liberties of working-class people.

I say “working-class people” because I feel that reflects the blue collar workers who annually schlep the family, along with inflatable rafts, toy trucks, plastic pails and shovels, blankets, aluminum folding chairs, plus a giant tote bag full of necessities that Lawrence of Arabia would have died for.

They drive for hours to pay too much for mediocre motel rooms, eat over-priced food, drive through bumper-to-bumper traffic to get to the beach, and one day into their vacation have to deal with five more days of sunburns.

To alleviate this preventable curse is a pretty simple solution: a beach umbrella. 

For generations, people - like my Dad – dragged a multi-colored canvass umbrella to and from the beach for roughly fifteen years.  I was well into my teen years before I realized an umbrella was an option for beach entry.

Dutifully, Dad would meticulously wipe down all our toys, chairs, and umbrella down to prevent that beach sand from making the trip home with us.  Alas, nearly seven pounds of it did, each and every time.  You would think we would be able to stay home and enjoy the beach in our backyard after a mere couple of years.  But I digress.

Still, the brain trust of varying Shore towns has been focused on a mission to improve the annual vacation pilgrimage to the beach by taking away your liberties.

Suddenly, umbrellas are forbidden from use because they may fly away and injure a fellow beach-goer.  Also outlawed are those popup canopies because too many fair-skinned visitors set up enough to be eligible for their own zip code.  Now the geniuses in Bethany Beach, Delaware, want to make your beach vacation more enjoyable via semi-tenable statements.

These cancer preventers, according to Bethany Beach officials with too much time on their hands, block the view of the water and create an overly cumbersome path to the water, itself.

It would serve Bethany Beach; Ocean City, Maryland; and Assateague Island, Maryland and Virginia, to lose the vacationers because of these overly intrusive laws that curtail the average family from actually enjoying their beach stay.

Q:  Why not focus on flying footballs and Frisbees© rather than sun protection? 

A:  Vacation elsewhere.

I’m just saying.

A Bunch of Phonies

The 1980’s were a hot decade which gave birth to the “global warming” movement.  Then the temperatures fell and the name was altered to “climate change.”

These same people who mocked me and laughed at religious individuals for believing in an unseen entity I call God, are now kneeling at the altar of Mother Earth.  They emphatically contend non-believers are heretics and uneducated. 

Today, with sub-freezing temps across much of the country, that “climate change” thing is the result of some inane excuse by some non-science scientist with a large guvment grant to prove a theory.  An aside: that is not how science works.  Cry crocodile tears.

Socially conscience individuals in the NFL have to have their own crisis.  Not to be left out, this multimillionaire club has been carping about the injustices in racist America. 

Rather than doing something about their “concerns”, they would rather poke their fingers at others.  How time flies.  And how time heals all wounds, sometimes.

It was nearly 11 moons ago – American Indian-speak for “months” – when the overly-sensitive in America were rabidly marching upon history-laden towns to demand removal of Civil War statues.

Protesters were shivering from fright and discomfort because static granite and bronze figures of Confederate generals and other historic figures were prominently on display for all to remember the tragedy of literally brother-versus-brother fighting.

If only we could remove those offensive reminders of a time when America was truly divided, we would never think of conducting another deadly battle with neighbors and family.  Cry crocodile tears.

Fast forward 11 moons.  Our biggest new crisis is the throngs of illegal aliens currently residing in America.  This neo-mess is being exacerbated by do-gooders wanting to reunite families who originally broke our laws by trespassing and stealing our resources.

This is called the DACA program which is very much desired by the Left who fully expect votes once these criminals are allowed to vote in America’s elections.  Just what honest, law-abiding Americans need and want are more people who refuse to obey laws.  Cry crocodile tears.

in the eyes of fans by demanding something nebulous from me.  This is the typical response from ignorant individuals who try to act intelligent.  Cry crocodile tears.

Then the anti-Trumpers latched on to a word that was new to them: Collusion.  It sounds so good and they sound so smart when saying words like “Russian collusion.” 

We have been hearing this stuff from, again, from the Left, for 12 moons. 

For your information, collusion is a synonym for conspiracy, knowledge, approval, and consent.

It seems the good news is that after nearly a year of special prosecutors, investigators, and devoted committees, nothing has been discovered except more money to continue this bureaucratic boondoggle.

The bad news, though, is that collusion is a word that will soon be applied to former President Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton.  There is currently an investigation ongoing for their pay-to-play scheme with their Clinton Foundation.  They would look good in striped outfits in the exercise yard.  Cry crocodile tears.

Finally, this last year had an overabundance of news regarding Russia’s possible hijacking of America’s 2016 Presidential Election.  There were accusations bandied about of President Putin stealing the election for Hillary Clinton, then for Donald Trump.

In any case, the masses claimed shenanigans were somehow involved.  Republicans, in a pro-active measure to prevent this from occurring again in 2018 and 2020, have resurrected the Voter ID law.

This was an effort to stymie illegal voting, trying to keep domestic elections as pure and clean as possible.  Unfortunately, the Left now feel those efforts to require valid identification in order to vote are racist.  Cry crocodile tears.

Phonies.