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.