Let's see...Who can I BLAME?

There really is one born every minute.

I'm reminded of this every time an election rolls around.
The world is becoming vastly more confusing and baffling to most of us and, since most of us are growing too fat and stupid to actually work to find answers for ourselves, politicians are at the ready with any number of excuses to fill the bill.
"Change we can believe in"...yeah, that's the answer!
There just has to be some simple answer to all of our problems. Doesn't there?
Out of pure emptiness, we eagerly embrace banana diets, spiritualism, "Bush lied", Dianetics or any load of crap that absolves us of any responsibility for our own predicament.

Mr. R. Emmett Tyrell, Jr. in the July 1986 issue of American Spectator said it very well when he wrote:
"Here in America, as elsewhere, there will always be tremulous little people of dim intellect and hyperactive imagination, burning for explanations to all life's vicissitudes. They grow impatient with learned analyses of the present. They are defeated by histories that illuminate the past. No species of scholarship or analysis could ever satisfy them; for they need that Wondrous Explanation that will quiet all their fear, thrill them with villains to revile, and never tax their feeble powers of intellection."

We Americans don't read enough! A person who reads facilitates his survival in today's world. Without reading and the knowledge gained from it we fail to recognize crackpots and fanatics who are more than willing to provide an excuse for anything we think we've been denied. Of course these excuses are offered in exchange for votes.

So...get ready. There are nearly six more months of political bullshit to come. Be prepared to hear lots of easy answers and know that there are NONE.

READ! And...get ready to ask questions.

"Hold on partner. Just what do you mean by CHANGE?"

A Bargain Baby

She cost $3.75.
That was the tab at Irwin Army Hospital when we settled up and took her home.

Katie Dee Copper, (Katie Diepholz these days), was born an Army brat 35 years ago today at Fort Riley, Kansas. In those days I was making sure that no commies invaded Kansas , and, so far as anyone knows, they didn't. Plus, my wife and I got to keep this cool kid.

Katie is our youngest and that makes me...OLD. I'll admit there were times during her high school years that the $3.75 price tag didn't seem like such a swell deal, but we all survived.
She, like her older sister, has done well. She is a successful attorney who spends her days working as an advocate for kids who mostly don't have any money and desperately need her help. She goes after deadbeat dads and prosecutes them into co-operation or...jail. A worthy endeavor.
She picked out a good husband too. Doug is a little weird, but then so is Katie. They're both "milk out your nose" funny and that appeals to me.

Her older sister is more in the spotlight. Kelly and her husband Pavol are the founders of their own theater company in New York City and just last week won their first Obie Award. I don't think that anyone, other than her mother and I, was more proud or excited about that than Katie. She's that way. (She will be embarrassed that I'm bragging about her. Tough!)

When I reflect on accomplishments, or lack of same in my life, there are many that I would rather not acknowledge. Voting for Ross Perot comes to mind...also, thinking that blabbing on the radio for nearly forty years was a good idea. Oh well, no "do overs" are allowed, last I heard.
Having kids, however, was a fine idea. Who knew that getting Linda loaded could pay such dandy dividends?!!

Kids are well worth the effort, especially when you can get them for only $3.75.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATIE!
Please remember to pick out a kick ass nursing home for mommy and daddy.
We DID lay out $3.75.

Have No Job...Will Travel

Years ago, when he was new to the Merchant Marines, my pal The Skipper would facilitate his vacation travel via the conveyance of a series of slightly less than luxury automobiles. He would get off a ship in, let's say, New Orleans and head for the nearest clunker emporium to purchase the cheapest ride on the lot.
The Skipper would gas up this rolling coffin and promptly proceed to his desired destination. If and when he made it, he would promptly abandon this steaming pile of crap on a side street near his temporary headquarters. I'm told that there are traffic cops in several Midwestern cities still lying in wait anticipating an arrest as his Detroit castoffs rust in their jurisdiction.

He doesn't do that anymore.

He's married now. Wives do not travel in Gypsy fashion! There must be planes, nice cars and even nicer hotels. They even demand dining experiences more refined than a nuked burrito from the Gas N' Go on the turnpike. Talk about cramping your style!!

So, when I recently got "shown the parking lot" by the San Diego Union-Tribune, I naturally reached out to the Skipper to suggest a Road Trip. This has become tradition for me: Get canned; hit the road. It's oodles of fun AND it gets your mind off the most recent dismissal. In fact, my wife might argue that I try to get canned in order to hit the road. Hmmmm.
She may be right.

Whatever.

I snapped into action. "Hello Skip...How about a rally in New York?"

The trip was ON!

The airline was booked; the hotel suite secured. We were off.
Linda was happy. She and I would get to see our daughter Kelly and her husband for the first time in several months and we would have some laughs with our old friends Mr. and Mrs. Skipper.

(Linda with Kelly in Manhattan)


We would also be in New York during the revival run of one of my favorite Broadway plays, A Chorus Line. There aren't many musicals that I enjoy, but Chorus Line is terrific. Not only does it have great songs, it has a wonderful message about the dignity of the individual and the gift of talent. If you haven't seen it, you have missed something. The revival is just as good as the original production.




"A Chorus Line"




We're back home now. The road trip was a success. We did all our usual New York things, saw A Chorus Line and had some new adventures as well. Linda managed to break her wrist, and that gave us a taste of managed care East Coast style. By the way, it's just as good or better than the medical treatment in California. She had a cracker jack doctor who, we think, may have given her a better wrist than she had before! We'll know for certain next year when she reports for Spring training.


Then, so I can write off the trip as a business expense, the Skipper and I found a promising business enterprise we're thinking of buying,(or, at least stealing the idea). There was a wonderful little bistro called "The Continental" which, as you can see, featured a menu of: 5 SHOTS OF ANYTHING $10!
The place even had two ATMs right outside the door!
Is this a great country???


Road Trips...they're not just for Dave Dudley and Red Sovine anymore!

MOMs...

Happy Mother's Day.
(Not you sir!)
I know that this is one of those "Hallmark" holidays that most of us feel good about lumping into the pain-in-the-ass category, but let's not be too hasty.

(My mom...still kicking at 86.)

If you're lucky enough to still have yours on the right side of the sod, Mom is the one you can count on to be in your corner no matter who else hates your guts. Dad may have tolerated you, but mom really does think that you are a genius humanitarian who is seconds away from the Nobel prize. "Those fools gave it to that fat moron Gore!"


(Linda giving me the "knock it off" look.)


If you're really lucky, you also are married to a wonderful mom. My wife, Linda, did a bang-up job of mothering our daughters Kelly and Katie. Even though there were many times when I was going Homer Simpson on them they both managed to make it to their late 30's. She even guided them toward wonderful careers and husbands who will no doubt surpass their old man in many ways. Not bad.



So, to moms everywhere...Thank you! You're the best.
Enjoy your day.


Oh, by the way...
Could I have an advance on my allowance?
I've got this million dollar idea that just might win me the NOBEL PRIZE.