Written as I button up the place for a short holiday trip. The house sitter and her puppy ("Sic," of large German heritage, including a 1939-ish German personality) are on the way.
Assembling the pocket things I carry on the road, it occurred to me that I might pass on a serious word or two of counsel to young folks venturing out into the civilized world of 21st Century America.
1. Never flash money. A wad tempts the morons who still believe American Federal Reserve Cartoons are worth stealing. They tend to be armed, if only with shanks they learned about watching "Lockup." It's better to look not worth bothering about as you pay for your Coke in the convenience store. If you must carry large cash in a money clip, shield the 20s and 50s with a fews ones on the outside. (A side note on linguistics. This is the reverse of the "Kansas City Wad.")
2. A good place for your real wallet is locked away in your vehicle. When I'm in on the street in Injun Country like Washington, D.C. or Illinois, I like to carry a fancy one of imitation leather holding a couple of long-expired credit cards, six ones, two fives, and home-made IDs saying my name is Newton Perry Bachmann and listing an address at least 100 miles from Camp J.
3. Dress is a challenge. You want to look respectable enough to get decent treatment from the clerks and bureaucrats with whom you must deal but, again, too poor to look profitable to the lurking goblin in the parking lot. I tend to go with clean jeans past their prime, dirty tennies, and a completely noncommttal shirt. Mustard is a nice color for the latter. (Avoid new Air Jordans at any cost.)
All this -- plus trying to keep my head out of my butt -- helps my confidence that the .45 can stay comfortably hidden. Having one is a comfort. Using it exposes a guy to all sorts of inconvenience.
Happy trails.
Jim
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 25, 2011
The Pleasures of the Season to You
I celebrate the day by wrapping gifts and finding the stocking stuffers.
The TMR blood family is scattered, and schedules make it somewhat unusual for us to get together on the actual, official Day. It's a blessing in a way. It gives me an extra day or two to compensate for my habits of procrastination.
For all of you -- gathered with family today or not -- I send wishes for serenity. May the little ones enjoy the magic, the big ones at least a simple day of peaceful respite.
Merry Christmas, Friends.
The TMR blood family is scattered, and schedules make it somewhat unusual for us to get together on the actual, official Day. It's a blessing in a way. It gives me an extra day or two to compensate for my habits of procrastination.
For all of you -- gathered with family today or not -- I send wishes for serenity. May the little ones enjoy the magic, the big ones at least a simple day of peaceful respite.
Merry Christmas, Friends.
Dec 24, 2011
Sons of Guns and the BATF
In re: Red Jacket Armory and Soap Opera; BATFEieio; Discovery Channel; Sons of Guns.
Retaining my general view that anything Holder's Batfee does will be an affront to civil liberties and logical throught processes, I can't whip up much excitement about this one.
For one thing it's a chore to figure out who did what to whom and who still owns what ever is left of the company. Don't tell me. Don't care.
For another, my tolerance for contrived drama has faded to zero since the days when I got puckerbutted about whether Trigger would untie Roy in time to escape the murderin' rustlers. And whether Tonto could really pull the Lone Ranger and Silver out of the quicksand under a hail of Comanche arrows.
'course, there was that great episode on mounting a couple of M242s and a grenade launcher on the sherf's river boat. That'll learn them catfish poachers and pot puffers a thing ot two.
Retaining my general view that anything Holder's Batfee does will be an affront to civil liberties and logical throught processes, I can't whip up much excitement about this one.
For one thing it's a chore to figure out who did what to whom and who still owns what ever is left of the company. Don't tell me. Don't care.
For another, my tolerance for contrived drama has faded to zero since the days when I got puckerbutted about whether Trigger would untie Roy in time to escape the murderin' rustlers. And whether Tonto could really pull the Lone Ranger and Silver out of the quicksand under a hail of Comanche arrows.
'course, there was that great episode on mounting a couple of M242s and a grenade launcher on the sherf's river boat. That'll learn them catfish poachers and pot puffers a thing ot two.
(Two) -- John D. MacDonald, Jesus,and the Iowa Caucuses 2012
Part One of this little essay was inspired by a serous squabble in the political-huckster subset of organized Iowa Christendom. It is a fuss about "pay-for-my-pulpit" questions.
Dissension rules the pews. Then high priests and ward heelers in the Temple of the Van Der Platas Peeps are torn among the GOP candidates. Who, among Bachmann, Gingrich, Perry, and Santorum, is sufficiently sanctified to qualify for a temp job administering the government of the United States?
The schism threatens the temporal ambitions of high deacons. If their sheep cannot be driven to unity, the movement's caucus endorsements become a swill too weak to propel the self-appointed deacons to the worldly status of a Pat Robertson, or Jerry Falwell, or Jimmy Swaggart before he was caught one-handed.
The ambitious Bob Van Der Plaats leads the umbrella political/evangelical organization, The Family Leader. He has three times run for governor and lost -- once on a platform including outlawing gay marriage by administrative decree. His single success came in an off-year of defeat three Iowa Supreme Court justices who were part of a unanimous decision that a state gay-marriage ban violated the state Constitution.
(His signature concern is a nation of well-policed orifices.)
Ousting the judges was enough to keep him on Page One and nourish his lust to be a presidential kingmaker. And to some day have a national teevee co-preacher built along the lines of Salome, or perhaps Tammy Faye? To have his very own Heritage USA, speaking of Mrs. Bakker?
---
2011 has not been good to Mr. Van Der Plaats. There are simply too many theocratic panderers on the caucus stage, each with unswayable ardents, making a Van Der Plaats blessing a case of "So what?" And that he can not abide, so he took action, and here's where things get murky.
He personally endorsed Santorum. He may or may not have put a price tag on his anointment. One million dollars is the usually reported number for the alleged heist attempt. Van Der Plaats says he didn't do it, but even if he did it was simply money necessary to "promote" his decision.
About the same time, he rang up the Bachmann campaign. Again, what he asked or offered is foggy. He did, or did not demand she withdraw in favor of Santorum. He denies it. Others claim otherwise.
He said. She said. All in the name of a holy outcome on the night of January 3.
---
Political sausage is ugly enough in its secular form, and it is not improved by random ingredients from every denominational hustler who claims to be first on God's speed-dial list.
If we continue to confuse a government with a religion we can confidently predict a future federal law specifying the number of virgins we must sacrifice to make it rain.
Dissension rules the pews. Then high priests and ward heelers in the Temple of the Van Der Platas Peeps are torn among the GOP candidates. Who, among Bachmann, Gingrich, Perry, and Santorum, is sufficiently sanctified to qualify for a temp job administering the government of the United States?
The schism threatens the temporal ambitions of high deacons. If their sheep cannot be driven to unity, the movement's caucus endorsements become a swill too weak to propel the self-appointed deacons to the worldly status of a Pat Robertson, or Jerry Falwell, or Jimmy Swaggart before he was caught one-handed.
The ambitious Bob Van Der Plaats leads the umbrella political/evangelical organization, The Family Leader. He has three times run for governor and lost -- once on a platform including outlawing gay marriage by administrative decree. His single success came in an off-year of defeat three Iowa Supreme Court justices who were part of a unanimous decision that a state gay-marriage ban violated the state Constitution.
(His signature concern is a nation of well-policed orifices.)
Ousting the judges was enough to keep him on Page One and nourish his lust to be a presidential kingmaker. And to some day have a national teevee co-preacher built along the lines of Salome, or perhaps Tammy Faye? To have his very own Heritage USA, speaking of Mrs. Bakker?
---
2011 has not been good to Mr. Van Der Plaats. There are simply too many theocratic panderers on the caucus stage, each with unswayable ardents, making a Van Der Plaats blessing a case of "So what?" And that he can not abide, so he took action, and here's where things get murky.
He personally endorsed Santorum. He may or may not have put a price tag on his anointment. One million dollars is the usually reported number for the alleged heist attempt. Van Der Plaats says he didn't do it, but even if he did it was simply money necessary to "promote" his decision.
About the same time, he rang up the Bachmann campaign. Again, what he asked or offered is foggy. He did, or did not demand she withdraw in favor of Santorum. He denies it. Others claim otherwise.
He said. She said. All in the name of a holy outcome on the night of January 3.
---
Political sausage is ugly enough in its secular form, and it is not improved by random ingredients from every denominational hustler who claims to be first on God's speed-dial list.
If we continue to confuse a government with a religion we can confidently predict a future federal law specifying the number of virgins we must sacrifice to make it rain.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)