Politically Incorrect, Fashion Forward, and More Things I Shouldn’t Do

July 28, 2015Tonya Lanthron 2 Comments

Sometimes I have to wonder when I see old people wearing stuff like this. I’d bet Nixon was in office the last time this dude gave a mustache ride. The chick in the “virgin” t-shirt probably lost it sometime around V-E Day. Do they really read the t-shirts, or do they just put something on because it’s clean? Or do they just put something on because they’re going to be painting, or varnishing, or prancing around in dirty things so they really don’t care?

When I wear snarky t-shirts (and I wear them a lot) I usually have my snark-effect planned out. I want people to wonder when they see me in a shirt that says, “Only Trust People Who Like Big Butts, They Cannot Lie.” The “big butt” comment is even funnier when the reader of the shirt realizes that I am, shall we say, “bootily challenged.” I have the flattest, most non-existent white-bread ass on the planet. Except maybe for my illustrious son.

If that’s the story behind these oldsters’ fashions, more power to them. Keep ’em wondering.

For the younger set, Nixon was in office from 1969-1974. As far as American presidents go, Nixon gets a bad rap. The dude was a choir boy compared to Bill Clinton, and a veritable saint when compared to the current illegitimate occupant of the White House. But get me started on the detestable Barry O., and my rants can go on for days.

V-E Day (the day Allied victory was won in Europe) is May 8, 1945. The more I think about it, I bet a lot of people lost their virginity on V-E Day. I can’t really correlate Nixon’s presidency with mustache rides, (I know when I think “sexy,” Richard Nixon doesn’t come to mind) other than to comment that in the 1970’s almost all VD was curable.

Sit on your ass and keep your mouth shut. That’s not terribly heroic, but it is 100% effective in preventing all forms of VD!

I wonder if it is considered offensive to refer to Germans as “Huns” (generally a WWI reference) or “Krauts” (generally a WWII reference) or is it OK to use either term- because Germans are white?

I know that the term “Cracker” is considered derisive (in some circles) when directed at white people from the American South, but when did it become gauche to make fun of rednecks? It seems rednecks are the only socio-ethnic group that it’s OK to malign.

It’s time to stop worrying about offending people.

Speaking of which….In spite of myself, I really like Donald Trump. I don’t know if I would really want him to be President (although I would gladly prefer my dead dog Sheena over the current illegitimate squatter) but I do like him speaking the truth and rocking the boat. HIs politically incorrect approach is refreshing, if nothing else. There are people who need to be offended, and who need to have their heads pulled out of their asses. If we haven’t learned anything else from the debacle of the Obama Administration, we should know that we need to call a turd a turd. Those who don’t get it that the “Emperor” is naked – as well as being morally bankrupt and an aider and abettor of terrorism to boot- richly deserve a wake up call. If Trump accomplishes that, more power to him. The only thing I don’t want to see is a replay of Ross Perot, who in a roundabout way (another 20th century history lesson, kiddies) bought us eight long years of Bill Clinton.

If it’s cylindrical, brown, and left by the cat, it is best to assume the item is NOT a Tootsie Roll.

My cats are generally really good about using their boxes, and most cats are unless you let the boxes go too long or the cat is sick or something. Healthy cats usually don’t have much trouble shitting where they’re supposed to. Of course, the cats have the basement to themselves, with a small (too small for dogs) cat door so they can come and go downstairs as they need,.

I didn’t generate this meme. I’m enough of a grammar Nazi to know that the author should have used “to” instead of “too.”

Still, it’s a good point.

I can use the men’s locker room and watch the sausage show. Or not. It would be my luck that the guys who wear Speedos but who should be wearing Bermudas would be showering. I’d get a big old eyeful of something like this:

Better for me to shower in the women’s – and dress modestly behind the curtain.

Nothing That Years of Psychotherapy Won’t Fix, Pragmatic Politics and Obscure History

July 18, 2012Tonya Lanthron 2 Comments

I’ve never been a true believer in Freudian psychology, especially his premise that all behavior goes back to sex. If that’s the case, and everything revolves around sex, I’m in really big trouble, because in that regard I am extremely low mileage- as in barely driven off the dealership lot. That vehicle’s been sitting on the lot so long the tires are dry-rotted and the battery’s dead and the upholstery smells like locker room funk, if my sex life could be compared to a used car.

But it only has 200 miles on it!

I also have problems with the touchy-feely approach that some psychologists take where it’s all about “embracing your inner child.” When I was a child I didn’t want anyone touching me for any reason. “Touching” usually involved getting my ass kicked in some sort of way. I was the geek kid that nobody associated with unless it involved me getting an ass kicking, or it involved someone trying to bribe me to let him/her cheat on a test. If you’re trying to improve my self-esteem, then why do you want me to “embrace” the geek kid? I have to wonder about that approach. I have to wonder about all the hoo-hah about self-esteem. Today’s kids are all about self-esteem, even if they suck. I would rather know I suck than have some lying ass pilot fill me full of crap about how great I am.

I was the butt-ugly geek kid.

My childhood was not nice. It was mostly hell. There were good moments- but they were few and far between. I won’t blame my parents. They did the best they could with what they had, and in their defense, they got dropped a raw deal. There are no child development manuals that could have offered them any help. No parent asks for a child with physical deficits, and no parent asks for a child whose intellectual, emotional and social development can only be categorized as highly abnormal. There was no option of specialists or special schools, especially when it was a struggle for them to afford the bare necessities. Hell, Mom was at the zoo herself most of the time, being bi-polar and untreated- and unpredictable. Dad was at work just about all of his waking hours- partially out of necessity and partially because he didn’t know if he’d come home to Jekyll or Hyde. When I say that my grandmother (actually both of them, but more so my Dad’s Mom, who was within running distance) saved my life many times, that is an understatement. I know Mom probably didn’t appreciate Grandma’s interference (when she was aware of it) but it was Grandma who stormed the principal’s office and kept me from getting the hell beat out of me waiting on the bus. It was Grandma who took me to the Dr. and stayed with me when I was sick with rheumatic fever. It was Grandma who gave me a safe place to go when my sisters and/or the neighborhood kids were looking for someone to pummel again.

I will say that Mom’s unpredictability set me up to deal with future coke-head bosses pretty well though.

Given what they had to work with, it’s a miracle that I am vertical, gainfully employed, and not a serial killer.

Needless to say, I have spent several years in various types of counseling- some more effective than others. The first counselor I went to, when I was 13-16 was tolerable. Better yet, it didn’t cost my parents anything for me to see her because she was a family friend. I learned fairly quickly the answers she wanted to hear- no, I’m not going to kill myself, yes, I am thinking positive today (retch,) but truth be told more than anything I appreciated getting out of school early every other Tuesday to sit and pretty much just shoot the shit. Because she was a family friend, I don’t think she believed me when I told her that my oldest sister was a sadist and a psychopath, but by that time my oldest sister was so much more interested in whatever money and assorted favors she could extort from the boys that she didn’t have much time to waste torturing me.

The second counselor I went to truly wasted my time and money. About a year after Steve-o was born I was having panic attacks and full-blown PTSD, as well as I was going through a rather nasty separation and divorce. I thought it a good idea to seek counseling because I truly was freaking out. The only thing she did after a couple of sessions was to tell me to buy a copy of the book Codependent No More and wished me happy trails. In hindsight I think it was because I had shitty insurance and she was afraid she wouldn’t get paid. I got really cynical about the whole counseling thing after that, and figured that mental health must just be too lofty a goal. So I decided to just deal with life the way I’d always had since I’d become an adult: chain smoking, binge drinking whenever I could, obsessive overwork, and indiscriminate liaisons when I could get away with it. I was a Ruthless Bitch, and that worked for about seven years- until my physical health really started to go south.

Thankfully my path necessarily changed because of my health failing. By the grace of God I got back into a relationship with Him and got involved in a church. Also by the grace of God I gave up smoking. I went to a counselor for a couple of years who wasn’t in it to either bullshit me or rip off my insurance company, and learned some helpful ways to navigate the way I’m wired and to deal with my past (which is an ongoing project.) I also acknowledged that I have inherited and organic tendencies toward anxiety and depression that require medical treatment and medication as well, which has helped me deal with PTSD and work beyond it. It’s a journey, not so much a destination, but I would have to say I am mentally healthier now than at any point in my life, which is almost scary.

I registered to vote on my 18th birthday- for what it’s worth.

This year is another year in which I not only have to be careful not to get caught up in the rhetoric (which is easy for me to do) but I feel as if I have to stand back and look at the election with a pragmatic eye. Voting for a third party or a write-in, i.e. Ron Paul, Mickey Mouse, Ron Jeremy, Dennis Kucinich or even posthumously, Ronald Reagan, effectively is a vote for Obama. Staying home and not voting is also effectively a vote for Obama, and it would also take away my right to bitch about him should he be re-elected. And I am going to bitch about him, re-elected or (hopefully) not- believe it. I would rather have fire ants poured down my underwear than to be complicit in re-electing the worst president ever, and I state for the record that Obama is The Worst Ever. Even if I include Pierce, Buchanan, Wilson, Harding, Nixon, Carter and Clinton, Obama takes the Worst Ever prize hands down.

I’m still not a huge fan of Mitt Romney. The last truly good president this country has seen is Ronald Reagan, and sadly, he’s been in his grave for eight years. But even though Mitt is no Reagan, I can think of FAR better choices to be sitting in the Oval Office than Obama.

Sheena, the mentally challenged Husky. Bonus: her birth certificate is just as contrived as Obama’s, but it’s a little more creative.

Ron Jeremy

Karl Pilkington (yes, he’s a Brit, but hey, BO didn’t have to be a citizen!)

The guy on the Quaker Oat box

Satan

Just remember, folks. The people who voted for Ross Perot bought us 8 years of Bill Clinton. That was bad, but Obama’s a million times worse. As much as I hate the adage, “choose the lesser of the two evils,” what do you do when one of the choices is overwhelmingly odious, the other one is less odious, but still not quite good? <Sigh…>

A Friendly Little Dystopia, Somewhere in a Solitary Bower, and Dead Presidents

June 8, 2012Tonya Lanthron 2 Comments

I’m more comfortable in my own little world. Aren’t we all, I guess, unless you’re one of those people who thrives on being surrounded by the company of others. I feel positively smothered in the midst of large gatherings. I can only take so much, no matter who it is or what kind of conversation is going on. Most of my family are incorrigible extroverts (I understand the mentality, but acting as though I’m an extrovert positively wears me out) so they wonder why I don’t always answer the phone immediately or text back the minute I get a text. Sometimes I simply have to turn all that stuff off or just ignore it if I have any hope of remaining ~~sane~~ functional.

It’s all good here in my own little dystopia. I have old Journey songs on the MP3 player, iced tea (with lemon only, NO sweetener of any type) and a cougar pool, capacity: 1 old cougar, namely me. The dogs don’t give a rat’s ass if I wish to engage them in conversation or not as long as they get their meals of processed, crunchy mutton and whatever else is in their dog food, and they get to go out from time to time to perform their bodily functions and run around in the grass. Jerry will probably be going to the campground this weekend, so I get at least one quiet solitary overnight. I may utilize some of said solitary time to enjoy some of my live Journey DVDs (cranked up, because I know Jerry is not a Journey fan) and/or finish reading a couple of books. The one I just started – FDR’s Deadly Secret is proving most fascinating so far. The theory in this book is that FDR died from melanoma that spread to his brain, although he had a laundry list of medical conditions going on that could have killed him too.

I just finished another book – Florence Harding: The First Lady, the Jazz Age, and the Death of America’s Most Scandalous President which picked over quite a bit of formerly obscure Marion County history as well as some rather seedy dirty laundry involving Warren G. Harding. Yes, Harding was a tomcat. Yes, Harding had friends in low places, but as far as scandal goes, from today’s perspective, I would have to say Clinton far exceeded Harding in the area of tomcatting, and both Clinton and Obama have far exceeded Harding in having friends in low places, and in flat out scandalous and illegal behavior. Since this book was written in 1998, before many of the Clinton scandals came to light, and Obama was probably still a “community organizer” somewhere in Kenya, I can forgive the author that. This book was well-researched and documented, and (though long for most people) to me, a fascinating read.

I feel for Florence Harding. I know all too well how difficult it is to be an intelligent woman stuck with carrying a man with a lot of issues.

I don’t personally think Harding was the worst president ever. Obama takes the prize on that dubious distinction as the worst president ever hands down as far as I’m concerned, even when compared with Dick Nixon, (in his instance I will venture to speak ill of a fellow Republican,) Jimmy Carter and even Bill Clinton. Many past presidents (JFK, FDR and LBJ to name a few- in the 20th century) were tomcats. Almost every past president, including my personal favorite, Ronald Reagan, was involved in something that someone might construe to be scandalous. It’s a necessity of the office. Perhaps the most squeaky-clean of the 20th century presidents was Harry Truman- but his sort of Democrat is extinct today, believe that.

Even Reagan had his moments, but IMHO he would do better from the grave than the current squatter occupying the Oval Office.

Come on, answer my poll, and comment, even if you do think I’m a right wing nut job. I’m not politically correct, and I’m not very easily offended.

History is an endlessly fascinating subject for me, especially 20th century history. I don’t know where the fascination came from but for the past several years most of my reading has been historical non-fiction. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, and I tend to get more engrossed in a story if I know it’s at least somewhat derived from historical fact.

It’s not entirely that I dislike people. Dislike isn’t really the right word. Dealing with people in most circumstances wears me out and sucks up what little energy I have to begin with. I do have my misanthropic tendencies- and I think people get on my nerves more than I should allow- but there are people I do adore. The main problem I have is I can only take most people in very small doses and I can only take so much of even those who are dearest to me. I need a lot of time alone, and when for whatever reason I don’t get it, I get very crispy around the edges.

Perhaps it’s the old school Catholic upbringing, but I feel guilty when I actually do put myself first.

In the event an airplane loses cabin pressure in flight, the flight attendant always instructs the adults to put their own oxygen mask on before masking their rugrat. It makes sense- you have to cover yourself before you can have the resources to cover anyone else- but sometimes I get so preoccupied with other people’s wants and needs that I forget to do the things that re-energize me.

One of those things is simply turning off all the electronics and locking the doors.

Ineptitude is Possible, and the Obfuscater in Chief!

May 16, 2012Tonya Lanthron Leave a comment

Ineptitude is Possible! I love pragmatic slogans. This one would be a good one for the Obama campaign, although in my opinion, framing Obama as being “inept” would be akin to saying, “Obama might be a socialist,” or, “Hitler sort of disliked Jewish people.”

“Incompetence and Apathy” would probably be a more accurate assessment of the Obama regime, though in all fairness, he’s been perfectly competent when it comes to obfuscating.* Obfuscation is Obama’s number two skill, right behind deception, which is closely related. I’ll give him credit: It’s easier to lie, cheat and otherwise deceive the American public once the smokescreen is in place.

*obfuscate: (verb) To confuse someone or to obscure the meaning of something. To make so confused or opaque as to be difficult to perceive or understand.

I know that I am very clearly politically biased, so yes, anything I say politically is almost always going to be at least a bit right-leaning. I do find it a slight bit justifying that Bill Clinton (not exactly a paragon of economic conservatism, but he does tend a bit more to the center than BO and crew) has called Obama out on his economic policies. The problem is, Obama isn’t going to listen to critique from the left anymore than he gives a rat’s ass about anyone on the right, or anyone who actually has to work for a living. He’s going for the gay activists’ and (as a natural progression, Hollywood’s)bank roll, and setting up a nice, thick smokescreen for the rest of us at the same time.

In all honesty I don’t consider gay marriage to be a civil rights issue any more than it’s a civil right to do the nasty with your car like that dude on TLC. Discriminating against someone because of their race is a civil rights issue, but failing to make provisions for those who indulge in unorthodox behavior is not. Should furries get a special dispensation to dress up like Secret Squirrel at work? What about their civil right to be whatever woodland creature their heart desires?

I don’t care what people do to get their jollies. Generally if you’re not hurting someone else, then the government really shouldn’t mess with you, even if you are a nut job. I would even go so far as to say there would be a lot less drug abuse (and a LOT less of the associated crime) if that crap were all legal and inexpensive to obtain. The gene pool would necessarily chlorinate itself- the dealers would go out of business quickly as the junkies OD and die off. I find it sad that we have not learned a lesson from Prohibition. No demand, no supply. Make it easy to get and the illegal suppliers go out of business overnight. Problem solved.

It sounds cruel to say that, but I can’t think of a better deterrent to drug abuse and the associated crime than to witness what it does to people. However, I don’t think it’s imperative for society to sanction and encourage irrational and dangerous behavior. There’s a difference between permitting something to occur and encouraging it. If two people of the same gender want to live together and share all their business it is possible to do all those things on a legal basis. What two consenting adults do behind closed doors is their business too- and I am including straight people in this assessment. Many homosexual practices spread diseases, but straight people can spread diseases and such too. Admittedly observing strictly monogamous partnerships (regardless of orientation) would be healthier over all for everyone. However, in practical application, strict monogamy, especially among straight people- is a lofty goal.

Be careful what you wish for. It might really suck.

The benefit to society in the whole straight, monogamous marriage paradigm is that generally it’s better for children to be raised by two parents (one male, one female) and human reproduction still requires one male and one female to produce children in the first place. I understand that there are geezers out there who are done with the whole breeding thing (me included) and there are people who for whatever reason do not wish to procreate. Sometimes people of the same gender are attracted to each other even though that whole concept holds no charm for me. Whatever floats your boat. That’s fine. Live together. Do the horizontal mambo. Share each other’s checking accounts and all that. I don’t care. But there is no benefit to the greater society in sanctioning or encouraging such relationships, and it is well to remember history. Much of the reason for the downfall of both the Greek and Roman empires was the acceptance and popularity of homosexuality- the populations could not sustain themselves.

The bottom line is as far as individuals go, do what you’re going to do. I have no problem with “special friends” having a legal agreement that protects the other partner should the other die, or to have power-of-attorney for each other, or shared properties, etc. as if they were relatives, but those provisions (at least in Ohio) are already in the law. Leave it be. And truth be told, if every fairy princess on the planet decided to marry his boyfriend- or his Ford Escort for that matter- it truly wouldn’t matter all that much to me if I could afford my scripts.

Now that Obama has become the belle of the drag queen ball, it becomes easier for the media and people in general to forget about his dismal economic policies, Obamacare, the millions of people who are already paying a LOT more for their healthcare because of Obamacare, and his stonewalling on domestic energy development. These are the real issues. There will always be gay people. There will always be gay people who want the greater society to celebrate their particular fancy, and who have deep pockets with which to buy liberal politicians. However, that issue pales in comparison to the energy and economic failures that BO doesn’t want to talk about. Those are the issues that should be front and center, not whether or not gay people are going to live together and have relationships, which they are going to do whether the state sanctions them or not.

In all seriousness, I sincerely hope people think before they vote. Obama is not qualified to run the toilet paper roll in a porto-john, let alone the Oval Office, and the past 3 1/2 years have proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. I am not an incredibly huge fan of Mitt Romney, but I’d take Bill Clinton again over Obama. At least Bill Clinton was smart enough not to entirely rely upon the lunatic fringe.

The Cougar Pool- Finally! and With a Name Like That…

June 1, 2011Tonya Lanthron Leave a comment

Ah, the seasons of Central Ohio. It seems that we have made the yearly sudden move from Monsoon Season into Stygian Heat without missing a beat. For those unfamiliar with the seasons of Central Ohio, they go as follows:

Winter. Cold. Windy. Lots of precipitation- snow, rain, freezing rain, sleet- and it’s always dark. Lasts from about Halloween until mid-February.

Snowbooger Grey. Cold, lots of rain, but not quite cold enough to freeze, leaving depressing grey snowboogers, discarded clothing items, assorted trash, dead Christmas trees and other detritus everywhere. Windy. Dismal. Still dark. Lasts from mid-February until early April, but seems to last six months at least. The absolute worst season of the year.

Monsoon Season. Rain. Rain for days at a time without seeing a glint of sunlight. Windy. Sort of cold. Lasts from early April until late May or early June.

Stygian Heat. Hot, hot, humid and hot. Lots of thunderstorms and rain in between the hot, hot, hot, to raise the humidity and make you swear it’s even hotter than it is. Imagine living in a greenhouse. Lasts from early June to late August.

Fall Monsoon. Just like the Monsoon Season of April-May, only there’s falling leaves to go with the rain, wind and cold. Lasts from early September to Halloween.

So we really have five distinct seasons here as opposed to the traditional four seasons. The constant? Precipitation, and lots of it. It’s interesting to live in a (nominally) drained swamp.

I am glad that the successful installation of the Cougar Pool has coincided with the onslaught of Stygian Heat. It was most enjoyable to float around on my floatie yesterday when it was 90+ with the usual 100% humidity. I could have used some more interesting entertainment besides watching Jerry picking weeds, chugging Natties and listening to his whining about the bug spray. If it’s safe for cats, it should work OK on him, unless he starts foaming at the mouth or licking his balls or something. Then I might have to revisit the cat bug spray option, but those kinds of side effects may be mildly entertaining, and therefore an added advantage. The cat bug spray was a lot cheaper and probably works better than the high dollar bug repellent anyway, but I’m going to have to get him the regular stuff because he won’t stop whining until I do.

I did play hell getting the Cougar Pool set up, and I discovered that the only place level enough for it to work was up on the porch. I should have done that initially instead of trying to set it up in the yard, but I figured Jerry would be more upset if I put it on the porch. He didn’t seem to protest nearly as much as I thought he would. I think it would be funny to see him actually get in it but I highly doubt he will try. Yesterday he said the water was too cold. I thought it was rather nice, especially considering how hot it was. Now all I need is a DVD player out there- and maybe a Super Soaker just for fun.

I find it a tad bit hilarious that a guy with the last name Weiner (damned funny in its own regard, especially for a politician) is in trouble for tweeting pics of his Vienna sausage to some young college girl. When I see this guy on TV, several things hit me about him, and none of them are good.

He’s a Democrat. Strike one. Hailing from the party of William J. (Oral Sex is Not Sex) Clinton and Teddy (I Didn’t Know She Couldn’t Swim) Kennedy does not inspire confidence in one’s integrity or one’s ability to refrain from behaving like a back alley tomcat. However, lest I appear to be too forgiving of the other side of the aisle, I understand many Republicans have made poor behavioral choices in this arena as well. The difference is that it seems for Republicans lewdness is a liability, whilst tomcattery seems a simple rite of passage- and a way to gain valuable name recognition- for Democrats.

He’s a whiny little twit. Strike two. Would I really want to see his teeny-weeny-weenie? If you’re going to tweet a pic, make it a good one. If you’re going to send pics of a package, Ron Jeremy would be a better model than say, Mickey Mouse.

His efforts to molehill-ize his mountain are only adding fuel to the fire. Dude, the more you protest your innocence, the guiltier (and nuttier) you look.

He has bad hair, a whiny voice, and an extremely huge nose- not necessarily detriments when considered as single elements, but when added to the overall “package” (pun intended) they add to the just plain blecch factor of this guy.

If I had a name like “Weiner” (granted, it’s hard to forget) maybe I’d either change it to something less, uh, giggle worthy, or consider becoming a stripper. Although I can see where the name “Weiner” would be great as far as name recognition goes, it’s not exactly name recognition in a positive way. For instance, if I were to name a feminine hygiene product “Pu**y Fresh” the name would be memorable, but not in a good way. It would be sort of like naming your kid “Adolf” so he stands out in his class. He will stand out, but not in a positive way.

I do wonder, however, how many of Rep. Weiner’s constituents voted for him simply because of his name- either out of pity or just because it’s funny. I can hear this conversation in someone’s head whilst in the voting booth:

“Check it out. Dude’s name is ‘Weiner.'”

“I gotta vote for him…heh-heh…heh-heh…” (internal Beavis and Butthead laugh)

Or maybe some people just break out into mental song (to the tune of “I Wish I Were an Oscar Meyer Weiner”):

“Oh, I gotta go vote for the weirdo guy named ‘Weiner’, ’cause that is what I’d truly like to be…”

-or-

“Oh, I gotta go vote for the weirdo guy named ‘Weiner’, ’cause Weiner’s what I’d truly like to see…”

Now that song is going to be going through my head the rest of the day. I know I am dating myself, but I am sure there are those out there who remember the Oscar Meyer Weiner Song. Not too many people wish themselves to be hot dogs these days, but the ’70’s and ’80’s were more innocent times. When the air was dirty, and sex was clean, or at least safely confined to the privacy of the brothel or bedroom, that is.

And we wonder what’s happened to this country.

Must have been the same stoners who voted for Obama.

I just thought of a great public service announcement: “Don’t Toke and Vote!”

’80’s Nostalgia, Humor in Suffering, and Things I Never Thought I’d See in a Museum

April 19, 2011Tonya Lanthron 1 Comment

I thought it was weird when I saw the 1981 Reagan Limousine on display four years ago. It was on display when I took Steve-o and his woman du jour to the Henry Ford Museum, lined up along with the Kennedy Assassination Limo and a string of other Presidential limos dating back to Roosevelt. I need to make it a point to take a trip up there again soon, even though I absolutely hate the crappy roads in Detroit, and the Dearborn area is rather frightening even in the daytime.

Granted, this is a historical car- and technically it does belong in a museum- but the fact that the props (ok, artifacts) from events I remember as if they were yesterday are in museums is a bit disquieting. As far as I’m concerned (yes, I know he died in 2004) Reagan should still be President, riding around in that limo. I bet Reagan is spinning in his grave at the antics of his successors (Bill Clinton was bad enough- and a tomcat- but even though as far as anyone knows, he keeps his pants on, Obama is far worse) and that’s sad. We could really use someone like Reagan today. To quote a bumper sticker that I would put on the HK Yaris if I had enough room:

In the 80’s we had Bob Hope, Johnny Cash and President Reagan. Today we have No Hope, No Cash and President Obama.

I also like this one:

Put the Constitution on His Teleprompter!

I’m sure Obama could use some fresh new reading.

The statement comparing the 80’s to today almost makes me depressed. It makes me want to vote for Donald Trump, even though he’s no Reagan. I like him better than the same old tired milquetoasts that have been dominating the Republican mainstream the past few years. Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee are just plain too lame. Like him, or hate him, The Donald has balls. We need a President with balls. Obama has none. I believe if he’s not directly in cahoots with terrorist nations and organizations, he’s not doing anything to stop them or even mitigate their actions. He’s complicit with Black genocide in supporting abortion “rights” that are NOT the state’s to give and are clearly morally wrong. Reagan was the last one who had the courage to call evil what it is and to do what was right even when it wasn’t popular. I don’t know if Trump is in that league, but I think he is more aware of the right course for this country, at least in regard to economics and foreign policy, than Obama ever could be.

The sad thing is back in the 90’s I didn’t think it could get any worse than Bill Clinton. I was absolutely shocked at the dress-stain incident even though Clinton’s foreign policy (or the lack thereof) was even more devastating to the country than the shame he brought to the Oval Office. Even so, if someone were to compare Clinton vs. Obama, I hate to say it, but I would take Bill Clinton in a heartbeat (which is disturbing clear down to my conservative Republican soul.) If there is worse than Obama, and given human nature there is (even though we have not seen it in an American President, and I hope we never do) but- humanity gave us Stalin, Mao and Hitler after all. I hope people aren’t dumb enough to vote for him/her.

One thing I also noted on our trip to the Henry Ford Museum was an exhibit on 80’s ephemera in which there was a Marlboro Lights 100’s pack, (now I don’t see that as historically worthy, but I smoked my share back then, so maybe so) and a collection of old vinyl records to die for by- Boston, Foreigner, The Police, Iron Maiden, Journey, and many other good ones. The album art was so much better back then. Someone actually had to draw them instead of just getting into some computer program and playing with it to make some funky design. I still say the Journey Departure cover is one of the best:

We thought Defender was a “futuristic” video game. Then again, we actually took quarters and went to the arcade to play video games and pinball.

I still think it would be a much better world if Reagan were in the White House, and Neal Schon still had his fro.

Makes me wish it were 1981 again…only not as a geeky 12 year old who got beat up every day. If it were 1981 and I knew what I do now it would be interesting. I could have a lot of fun with that.

Speaking of Journey, I decided to go ahead and get my ticket for the show on August 5, even though it is at Crew Stadium (outside.) I don’t generally like to go to outside shows because of the lack of A/C, but it starts at 7PM, so at least it’s not in the heat of the day. Journey only makes it to Columbus every couple of years or so, and they aren’t getting any younger. Neal Schon is pushing 60, Jonathan and Ross are over 60, and Arnel and Deen are both over 40, and given the lifespans of rock musicians, that’s not a comforting thought. I should take any opportunity to see them that I can get. Foreigner and Night Ranger (also very good bands live) are opening for them, so this is a show worth having to contend with stygian heat and/or the prospect of torrential rain. The nice thing about this show is that it will be an older crowd. Usually the over 40 set is not into throwing things, fighting or stealing stuff- and it’s reserved seats- so barring weather extremes, it should be a pleasant evening.

Jerry has been on yet another trip on the self-pity express. I don’t feel sorry for him. He brings his own misery upon himself. I do try to find the humor in it, otherwise I’d have to throttle him.

Last night he decided to go to the hell hole again. He staggered in around 10PM which was nice. I had a quiet evening until he came home. The best thing for me to do is to pretend I’m asleep. He knows better than to try to wake me up- even when he’s shitfaced, usually- because I am rather nasty when I’m disturbed late at night. If he sees that I’m awake he will torment me, and I’ll never get to bed, but if I stay under the radar he will usually prattle on to the walls (or Isabel if she is in view) about various unintelligible nonsense for an hour or so until he passes out. I got lucky last night. He was sprawled across the bed, pants down, snoring and near comatose before 11.

Jerry has had many shitfaced conversations with poor Isabel. According to him, she’s the only one who understands him when he’s shitfaced. I never knew that cats could understand the ramblings of the insanely drunk.

I should put a collar on Isabel with a speaker in it. When Jerry’s shitfaced and talks to her, I could have her reply through her collar speaker. It would be a hoot.

Jerry: “Whaats aff? Gotta pith…” (falling over something)

Isabel: “Go to bed, shit head!”

Jerry: “Where’s foooooooooood?”

Isabel: “Shut up, or it’s gonna be up your ass.”

That could be funny. Isabel can out run him, and she always has the option of disappearing down the cat hole (there’s a cat-sized hole in the basement door for cat access so they can use the litter box, but the dogs can’t get to the litter box and use it as a snack bar) when she’s had enough of his “conversation.”

ELYSIANHUNTER, ALWAYS INCITEFUL:

Because comedy is the flipside of tragedy

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Bill Clinton