Who Am I?

On this Good Friday, Christians' worldwide will embrace with somber reflections the gift offer of eternal life through the crucifixion of God's Son, Jesus Christ. We shall think more deeply upon the words in John 3:16- "For God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believe in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life."

Should you see me in Church, the supermarket or at the sporting event, I'm the guy most unworthy of God's gift and Christ's suffering. I'm the unworthy one who God brought forth in this earthly journey to be nurtured and raised by loving Christian parents and an extended Christian family network. I'm the unworthy one who shares a terrific family-youth history with two brothers. I'm the unworthy one who married a most loving and supportive wife of 58-years. I'm the unworthy one who receives doting inquiries and love from three adult children and their incredible spouses. I'm the unworthy one who basks in the wonderful glowing warmth from 15-grandchildren and 2-great grandchildren.

If the aforementioned blessings are not enough, my loving God guided me and orchestrated a journey, which allowed me to embrace a wonderful career in a profession I loved with a passion.

Can you possibly imagine that someone so unworthy could have so much and just think, I did nothing to earn it or deserve it...oh, My God! I shall humble myself every day and seek your will. I accept your magnificent gift of salvation through your Son's precious blood. Thank you for loving someone so unworthy.
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Who Am I ?

Leaning On One Another

A few days ago, my wife said, "I read your blogs every day and I know you say you're a liberal-Democrat but do you think you just might be a socialist?" I thought, now that's a fair question. My answer to her was "Sometimes Yes and Sometimes No."

I am sure that many of my conservative friends are reading this blog and thinking, here comes some of Mel's gibber jabber double-talk. I say, if that floats your boat then throw away your ores and enjoy your ride!

"Yes" when it comes to our Nation's 'social needs,' i.e. Interstate highways, police / fire departments, public libraries, health care, subsidies for the poverty stricken, some farm subsidies, public education, etc. then you can call me a socialist. "No," I'm not a socialist aside from and beyond those social-issues; see, beyond those I am 'conservative.' If some of you blog readers think you are totally conservative, then stop using all the 'perks' provided by our 'pooled' dollars. Some are listed above in this paragraph ...you read them beginning with the highway's, etc.

Now, back to my wife's suggestion that I am a socialist. This question comes from a person who, when purchasing Christmas gifts for family members uses a calculator to make sure that exact
monies, down to the penny, is spent on each child, grandchild and great grandchild AND the gift pile for every person must be exactly the same height.

Speaking of socialist leanings. Just two days ago, Granddaughter, Amanda and her daughter, Juniper visited Nana and Boompa. Before they departed for their return trip home, Amanda pointed out to me that her Nana has 84- rabbit figurines of various sizes and shapes all over our house in denoting and decorating for Easter. True to my socialist giveaway traits and one willing to 'share' our rabbit-figurine-wealth, I offered Amanda a couple of dozen rabbits...she passed.

Now, don't go off half-cocked fretting about my wife's focus on Easter and its true meaning. She studies her Bible daily and attends two Bible Studies each week and will attend more Easter Services   this week than most people...take it from her driver!

Anybody need a rabbit figurine?
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Need One Another

Love The South; But Some Need to Get On-Board

The past five-years during winter months of January and February, my wife, Gerry and I have been blessed with the opportunity to be part of the large contingency of 'Snowbirds' who migrate to the sunny and warmer area of Florida. On our treks to and from our destination, we naturally travel through the States of Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama and Florida. The mid-South and Deep South.

Those States each hold their own unique beauty. In our travels, I have met people mostly similar to other people whom I've met in travels North, West and East. There is one exception. In the South, you are more likely to observe more expressions of 'regionalism identity' and even more unfortunately, racism.

Don't get me wrong. I don't believe American regions outside the South are free of bigotry, prejudice and racism, however I am convinced many folks in the South more freely suggest and express those negative 'feelings.' How else would one explain a sign on a major Florida highway stating, "Niggers Go Home." Wherever the hell 'home' is. During those winter months in the South, I see many people of color in service roles but fewer people of color enjoying the 'same' life I'm enjoying as I might see in the North. Now, on every given Saturday in Alabama and Florida those good old boys want some 'black boys' goin' deep for passes on the gridiron...for sure! But those same football-fellas ain't so welcome in the some neighborhoods or telephoning daughters of some Crimsons Tide football season ticket holders.

Another show of 'regionalism' is the locals' misguided attachment to the South's role in the Civil War. This nonsense regarding the Confederate Flag and those Confederate statues is absolutely 'racist-stubbornness.' That thinking is on the WRONG side of history. The South was fighting to destroy our United States over slavery. When you lose a war you don't get to erect statutes of your wrong-minded leaders and you don't get to flaunt the enemies flag. You don't see statues of British Generals or the British Flag in any of the 13- original colonies.
Thats What I Like About the South

What's Up With That?

My 'bone-to-pick' is with my very own Christian brothers and sisters; you who continue to support President Donald Trump. You who claim to be 'evangelicals' that voted for this man because you had determined he stood on a higher 'moral ground' than his opponent, Hilary Clinton.

This man has had 18-women accuse him of sexual assault, which he is on record as saying he is guilty of such actions and behavior. This man has paid women to stifle conversations about his  affairs. This man has settled lawsuits out of court against his fraudulent 'Trump (Business) University.' This man has been married three times. This man has demonstrated vulgar language numerous times as President and is on record with verbal attacks on women, minorities and the disabled. And yet, my Evangelical friends stand 'locked-step' behind this man.

I can understand bigots voting for Trump, after all he sent signals loud and clear how he feels about people of color. I can understand corporate interest folks voting for Trump. I can understand people voting for Trump because they are simply frustrated and angry with circumstances. But, Christians who make the assertion that they voted for Trump due to his higher moral authority over 'anybody-else' who ran for President is absolutely ludicrous.

I hear Evangelical leaders every day saying, "The heart of our faith is 'forgiveness' and we must  forgive Donald Trump." That's poppycock, you phony- boloney's! You pick and choose whom you decide to forgive, just as you cherry-pick scriptures to support your personal attitudes and advance  desirable agendas. You do more to hurt God's Church than the professed non-believer. Where you went awry was inviting politics into our church. Evangelicals who voted for Donald Trump picked up on 'nationalist message, i.e., 'white nationalists.' Therefore, we seemingly, now have two evangelical groups. The traditional Evangelicals who claim to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ including Christ's love for ALL peoples and a Evangelicals-nationalist group who are believers in Christ but depart from the doctrine of 'love' when it comes to any group of people other than 'white Anglo-Saxon people.

 In doing so you corrupt religion...in the name of Christ please stop.

Turn your attention back to 'gathering' the lost, giving people hope and leading them to a relationship with Jesus Christ instead of dirtying our religions in politics. Show people the refuge in religion from the frustrations of a secular society.

Oh, by the way, many Evangelicals have disdain for the Democratic Party for supporting a woman's right to choose ( as it MUST be) in a democracy, so now is the perfect opportunity for the Republican President, the  Republican controlled Congress and the Conservative Supreme Court to overthrow  Roe v. Wade. Those government branches have been in control for 14-months and not one mention of  enacting anti-abortion laws...what's up with that? Let me help you>>> they have no intention of  doing that and losing the female vote.

No fool like a gullible fool.
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Great Imposter

A Different Game With Lasting Love

My first recollection of Major League Baseball as a kid growing up on the East Side of The Mississippi River was 1944; It was noteworthy that year considering it was the one and only time St. Louis saw its two Major League Clubs, the 'Browns' and 'Cardinals' square off in a World Series, which saw the Cardinals' capture the Championship in a Facility shared but both teams: Sportsman's Park. I must admit, my memory of the series is vague at best but then, I was only 5-years old. Two years later, I recall a bit more detail when my Redbirds beat the Boston Red Sox for the World Series Title. Throughout the remainder of the 1940's and the '50's decade, I would be that avid baseball kid living thirty minutes from the Sportsman's Park and later Busch Stadium. I found my way to games frequently at the drop of the hat. I would ride buses and streetcars and use my Knothole Membership Card to gain admission for mere cents. Bleacher seats in the 1950's were about .75 cents, second tier seats around $1.25 and box seats somewhere between $5 and $10. I attended most games with my dad who insisted we'd get to the stadium hours before game time to watch and study idiosyncrasies of players taking batting and infield practices.

I noticed mostly men wearing white shirts and often neckties while sporting Fedora's and straw hats. Younger groups of teen were hawking autographs before and after games; players were mostly accommodating in those days. I do recall the frequent 'push' by ownership to court the female fan  with its 'Ladies Day' promotions. It seemed those yesterday fans came to the park to watch baseball as opposed to eating and drinking. Cracker Jacks cost around .15 cents a box. I note today endless  numbers of vendors selling a bottle of water for $6 and a bottle of beer for $9.

These days, I don't hurry to the ball park because I can't watch batting practice. I can watch a bunch of strangers being introduced in conjunction with some promotional. My parking cost around $20, the box seat runs about $100, and should I eat a hot dog and drink a beer, I'm looking at about $15 bucks.
Speaking of 'money,' in 1951,  I watched Cardinals' outfielder, Enos Slaughter sprint hard to and from his right field position between innings; Slaughter was earning $25,000.00 a year. In 2018, I'll watch the $3 million-a-year player jog to his position. I won't see the likes of Bob Gibson or Don Drysdale going the pitching distance of nine innings in a 2-hour 25-minute game but instead, I will sit through a 3-hour and 15-minute game and watch a parade of some seven pitching changes.

The fans around me will go nuts when the fireworks go off after a home run but won't understand the stupidity and selfishness of a player not moving a runner over, swinging for the fence at the first pitch in the ninth inning when trailing by three runs or a batter failing to get a sacrifice bunt down.

All th said, I wait eagerly for opening day. I'll watch as many games as possible, glued to my television or at the stadium. Why? Because once more I'm a kid again playing the game I loved with my buddies. I'm that kid again sitting next to my Dad on a hot-muggy St. Louis night recalling his mentoring comments. I'm that kid again; that kid that never left my mind. PLAY BALL!
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I'm Talkin' Baseball...Baseball in St. Lou

What's Goin' On?

Graduating from East St. Louis high school in 1957, I would not or could not have imagined that one day in America children in our schools would be commonly gunned down and killed in masses. I would not believed that our President would be involved in lawsuits with a porn star, A Playboy Bunny and others. Had somebody told me back then that my neighborhood streets might be booby trapped with bomb-explosives, I would have thought they were reading too many comic books. Routinely these days, local police are being shot, church members are gunned down at prayer meetings and movies/television viewing derails children's innocence in pre-adolescent years.

I recall the 1940's and 1950's when doors were not locked and children were safe walking their neighborhoods after dark. Today we must remind ourselves and love ones to constantly be suspicious.  We are not safe in malls, restaurants, movie theaters, clubs or sporting venues. Likewise, we must question contents in our mail and be cautious of packages left on our porch. Carefree American living has disappeared like the 'running-boards' from our automobiles. We've lost all innocence and it ain't comin' back...how did we arrive at this disgusting 'new normal' known as fearful living?
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What's Goin' On?

Stupid IS What Stupid DOES

Do you remember back in 2009, when then President Obama bowed to the King of Saudia Arabia? Sure you do. The right-wing nut jobs and bigots in the United States came unglued with criticism. Those haters, after all believed Obama was born in Kenya and certainly a Muslim.

Well, God bless and help those fools today. For today Putin's Russia has demonstrated that they can meddle in our Democracy via Facebook and hacking computers. Russia most recently demonstrated the ability to hack into and disrupt our nation's 'power grids.' Folks, re-read that last sentence and THINK about the potential perilous consequences. All this while Trump tweets about SNL actors.

Makes perfect sense that our President Trump would telephone Dictator Putin and "Congratulate" Putin on winning his election in Russia. A bogus-sham election. Yes, that would be the same Putin who has his Russian adversaries and opponents killed.

I suppose in Trump's defens could be that he has been pre-occupied with dismantling his ("They'll be the best and smartest.") cabinet members and White House staffers, not to forget the distraction from a porn actress, Playboy Bunny and others bringing lawsuits against him.

Trump is Vldamir Putin's 'puppet.'
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Putin's Puppet

Lighten-up Kemo-sah-bee

I'm sure most reading this blog have experienced moments in public when people nearby may be speaking in a language other than English. Often times, somebody in my company will express anger if not indignation for those foreign-tongue conversations. I hear comments like: "If they want to live in our country they should speak our language." Some even believe that those using another language other than English are 'talking' and laughing about them and thus they are offended.

Obviously, something is wrong with me because I am not put-off or angered when hearing folks speak in language other than English. I simply don't care. In fact, it reminds me of that phrase we all learned back in elementary school; 'America is a melting pot.' I am reminded of my youth in East St. Louis where the city of 80,000 had ethnic neighborhoods of Italians, Polish, Greek, Hispanic, German, French, etc. Many were second generation old country immigrants who, in fact, settled in same areas for the purpose of sharing customs and language. Of course, in time their children assimilated and those neighborhoods began to disappear. Today, I can close my eyes and hear Mrs. Jacknewitz call aloud for sons Stanley and Vincent using Polish words. I could never forget the broken English from 'Poochie' Gigalotto's Italian grandfather...the only English words he had mastered were curse words. You couldn't help but laugh when he said them.

Sometimes I really believe Americans would better serve themselves if they get off their 'high horse' and lose their pompous attitudes. How's that, you think I'm full if it? Well, let me tell you folks:
The Native American Indians didn't understand our lying English tongue...right here in THEIR COUNTRY.
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Cherokee Nation

A Joke Instead of a Rant

Man dies and goes to Heaven where he is interviewed by Saint Peter....after St. Peter completes his questioning he says...

St Peter: Now that I've completed my questioning, do you have any questions?

Man: I do. I notice a clock on the wall behind you with the hour, minute and second hands all at 12.

St. Peter: Oh, everybody on earth has a clock in Heaven. That clock behind me is Mother Teresa's clock. The hands only move if that person told a lie while on earth...Mother Teresa told no lies.

St. Peter continued: Down the hallway you'll notice Abraham Lincoln's clock and the second hand moved two ticks indicating Abe only told two lies while on earth.

Man: Where is President Donald Trump's clock?

St. Peter: Oh, Trump's clock is in the Apostle Paul's room. He's using it as a ceiling fan.
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Tell The Truth

The Two Bufoons Would Love It!

United States President Donald Trump and North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un have agreed, in principle to hold a meeting, henceforth to be known as the "The Hair Summit." Well, hold that thought.

The particular format, exact time and place has yet to be determined, therefore let's offer some ideas.

Both countries could use some quick cash. Trump needs money to build a Southern border wall and just looking at Kim one gets the impression that North Korea needs 'Barber Colleges.' Okay. Let's expand our idea and embark on 'The Annual Hair Summit Games.' We can schedule home and away; even years USA turf and odd years, North Korea  The up coming 'Hair Summit Games' could be hosted by Texas. It's a Big State with plenty of area where Donnie and Kim could shoot-off rockets into the Gulf of Mexico. The two self-centered, self aggrandizing buffoons could have a televised body-parts comparison competition starting with 'hand sizes.' Other competitive engagements could be miniature golf, sack races and lip sync singing their respective National Anthems. (Some body at the White House needs to work with Trump). Yes, oh yes, we would need sideline cheerleaders. Trump already has the names of some 18-chicks to call at a moments notice and Kim has a bevy of military brown suits that are ready to applaud him for anything. This event could reach the extravagant size of America's NFL Super Bowl. Talk about a 'tail-gate party!'

The grand finale would be a military parade of the two countries war arsenals. Both Trump and Kim could strike posture poses similar to the familiar poses of Adolf Hitler or General George Patton.  Wow! Talk about a Norman  Rockwell moment!
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My Guns Bigger Than Yours

There's a Reason We Play The Games

Grandson, Connor O'Keefe is a student at Indiana University. For several years, come NCAA Men's basketball tournament, Connor has put together a pool-bracket that eventually results in the winner receiving $500.00.

This morning, my daughter Dawn telephoned to tell me that after Thursday and Friday games, Connor's thirteen year old sister, Alexa is in first place while Connor is dead last. Alexa has never watched one minute of college basketball and she could not 'name' any college players or coaches. Alexa is a lot like her eighteen year old sister, Kaitlyn who left Wrigley Field after a baseball game and asked me, "Did the Blackhawks win?"

Of course, when a group of bank employees (UMBC) put together a team and soundly beat Number One rated Virginia in the first round it can certainly make all tourney prognosticators look ill-informed...but not Alexa.

I Know Who I Am...Thank You!

While shopping recently with my wife, she ushered me to a section in the men's clothing area that had all those designer shirts...you know, Under Armour, Nike, Tommy Bahama and Cutter Buck. After picking up a few items and checking the prices, I said, "Woman the day you see me pay a hundred bucks for a sweatshirt or a hundred-thirty dollars for a Polo-collar shirt or twenty-four dollars for a T-shirt, please put me in an institution." Ain't gunna happen!

The American public is made up of mostly vain fools marching to someonelse's tune. Not me.

Personally, I have never given a rat's ass what 'they say' or 'others think.' I never have and never will...take it to the bank. When I was very young, I refused to buy into that constant message that suggested somehow my 'value' or 'worth' as a person was tied to my appearance, my status or my performance. I have my parents and extended family to thank for instilling in me values and standards, which focused more on what I did for others instead of 'self.'

Well, my wife says that I look goofy wearing my bought 'on sale' Nike shorts with a plain non-designer top or worse, a Champion top. I did tell my wife that I'd wear matching designer too & bottoms if she wore her red dress and high heel sneakers.
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lookin Good

Politicians In The 'Main' Are Total Fools!

You will recall Former President George W. Bush's clever little 'phony phrase,' "No Child Left Behind." His administration attached penalties to school districts and teachers if those schools did not reach pre-determined test scores...because those educators must 'save and educate' every kid walking into their classroom.

Let me give readers a peek into just one fourth grade classroom in 2018. The teacher has 25-children in her room and charged with a full slate of subjects to be taught: grammar, math, reading, science, computer, social studies and art. Of course, all teachers take their stations and turns with play ground duties, bus loading, etc. They must conduct parent-teacher conferences and periodic contacts along with state testings and written reports on every student. The classroom, each year contains children with special needs who have been mainstreamed at parents' insistence and/or school financial shortfalls.

Most of the children's households find both parents in the work place, which often times creates latch-key kids and tired parents either unable or unwilling to assist children with after-school homework. There is always two-to-five students per fourth grade class that has learning disabilities and/or attention disorders. Just recently, I was informed of one fourth grade boy who is a 'runner.' That's correct, he bolts from class at a moments notice. Alerts are sent out as classroom teaching  comes to a halt. Another student is constantly disruptive, which demands interruption and administrative intervention.  Upon more intense conversation with the student, he claims that he  cannot help himself because he just has "bad blood." Now, I wonder how a ten year old child came to that conclusion on his own?

Hey, what the hell! Strap a gun to the teachers and insist they protect these youngsters while they educate them...AND don't leave any child behind!
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Teacher's Pet

Roles of Parents & Children Reversed?

A friend and fellow educator/coach recently posed a legitimate concern regarding changes he has noted in the parent-child relationship. His perception suggests that forty-to-fifty years ago parents were the central focus of the family-unit while today that focus in primarily on the children. I believe his observation is valid.

If this IS true, WHY?

I don't think there is one simple answer to explain this particular family dynamic. Let me begin with a few personal facts from yesterday: I never doubted for a moment that my parents loved me and would protect me. There was explicit clarity that my parents loved one another more than they loved anyone else, including their children. It was obvious that my parents were on the same page regarding expectations of their children's behavior. It was impossible to play one parent against another; they saw through phony tears and bellyaching. My parents were quick to assume the role of 'defense attorneys;' not for their children but for school teachers, coaches and other adults representing authority. They did not 'give' me money but made it possible for me to earn a few dollars from specific chores and jobs. My parents had no concept of the term 'time out' but embraced

My parents read one book frequently: The Bible. Obviously, they came across Proverbs 13:24 and  thus embraced the modern-day proverb, "spare the rod, spoil the child," which meant if a child goes  undisciplined that child will grow up expecting to have his own way on all matters...not a good game plan for success and happiness. My parents did not need Dr. Benjamin Spock's poppycock book about concern for the child's 'feelings.' My parents wanted their boys to be strong and self-sufficient  claiming personal accountability instead of leaning on crutches of excuses. Simply stated: In the homes of my youth, the children wanted to 'please parents.' In many of today's homes the parents want to 'please' their kids. As my Dad would say, "That's bassackwards!"

Add to the aforementioned parenting changes the reality of America's near 50% divorce rate today compared to 14% in 1940 negatively impacted the 'family-unit' as does the projected 17% of single wage earning families pressed against the 2030 projection of only 17% of mothers in the home.

Finally, I have heard the noble trumpeted sound of parents through the decades who cry out, "I want my child to gave a better life than did I." Unfortunately, those parents too often blur the line between 'better and easier.'

One of my biggest challenges as a high school basketball coach was changing the focus of 'self' to 'team.' That said, a few kids would have been better players had they ate dinner at my home.
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Thanks Mom & Dad

It's Problematic...Arm The Students

Recently, the Florida State Legislators sent a bill to Governor Scott, which he signed into law thus allowing teachers to carry guns in classrooms.  This measure is anchored in the belief that good people with guns could possibly shoot bad people with guns and minimize loss of life.

This approach also speaks specially to the notion promoted by the NRA that gun control is not an issue but mental illness is the problem.

If I was a parent of children attending Florida public schools, I would have a problem with this design. Please consider this fact: Recent studies indicate that 1-in-5 American adults suffer some form of mental illness, therefore if my child is attending a medium size high school it would be reasonable to conclude that the faculty would number approximately fifty certified teachers and another thirty non-certified personnel, i.e. Secretaries, custodians, etc. and that would total approximately 80 adults among, which would include 16-nut cases..mentally ill folks; If those mentally challenged staffers will be armed...I want all students armed just in case a teacher or custodian goes off the rails.

I believe my child could be better protected if he or she could carry a gun to school. The students could not only shoot and kill would be intruders with killing on their mind but could also 'waste' a wacko teacher that 'flips.'

P.S. All weapons must be of equal fire-power, therefore we're talking everybody carrying an
 AR-15 weapon! It's logical. More students are killed during these attacks than are teachers killed, therefore the kids should all have guns.

I have all the confidence that the NRA would support this approach.
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Make My Day

Time of My Life

As we made the trek back North this past weekend, my wife and I spoke of many recollections and experiences while wintering in Miramar Beach, Florida. At one point, my wife asked what were my top 3 or 4 most enjoyable moments. I found the question rather difficult. Not as difficult as ranking my favorite Hallmark Movies. That is almost impossible considering the fact that there is one little dark-haired actress who appears in about fifty percent of all Hallmark presentation...can't keep them straight.

Anyway, here's my Top Miramar Memories of The Winter of 2018...
 1. Waiting on three occasions at airports for the arrival of grandkids.
 2. Watching my grandkids interact with their Nana
 3. Sitting alone with Yodie (Toy Poodle) in a secluded full-sun area of our cottage backyard.
 4. Attending the Rock & Roll Church
 5. Helping my friend Richard look for his wife, Marie when she disappeared...turns out she was in the bathroom bathing.
 6. Monday night rib special at Miller's Ale House with friends...especially the entertainment provided by Mike and Shirley.
 7. Swimming pool conversations about Senior Depends wear and 'Flipped' Uterus'.
 8. Walking two miles every day by myself and another mile with Yodie.
 9. Completing a writing effort that began one year ago.
10. Tossing filled-garbage bags from the cottage's front porch attempting to put it in the trash  container approximately15-yards away. I was 11-for-49 this year after a 15-for 51 a year ago.
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Time Of My Life

Till We Meet Again

Tomorrow, Saturday, March 10, we break camp and head back North to Decatur, Illinois. We leave the senior-Snowbird-fantasy world of Miramar Beach, Florida. We return to the more diversified midwestern city life. A life of greater reality. There will be home repair issues, grass cutting, vegetable gardening preparations and Doctors' appointments.

We shall hope to engage the needs of our Church to serve others and we look forward to more frequent visits with family and old friends. As we depart our winter neighborhood of Gulf Side Way, our prayers go out in behalf of our winter friends. God willing, we shall meet again.
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Till We Meet Again

The Outta Touch Leader

A neighborhood girl back in Decatur, Illinois who attends middle school, emailed me a list of political questions her seventh grade current events class is addressing in a survey regarding voting attitudes. One question, in particular, caught my attention and caused me to reflect in greater depth.

Question: "In the last presidential election, what one incident or one comment made by any candidate caused you to NOT vote for that individual?" After considerable thought, I came up with THE ONE incident that cemented my negative attitude toward Donald Trump. I checked off 'possible' reasons of his vulgarity, his questionable treatment of women, his sick humor about the disabled, his history of discrimination towards people of color and his intolerance of Middle Eastern religious groups. I also dismissed his business shenanigans, i.e., Trump University scam, his multiple bankruptcies and his refusal to disclose his tax returns.

Actually, the one incident involving Donald Trump that caused disqualification (in my mind) and someone for whom I could NOT vote for occurred four-years before he announced his presidential candidacy in 2015. You do recall the pizza luncheon Trump had with Sarah Palin in June 2011. These two 'out-of-touch' bone heads used a knife and fork to eat a slice of pizza. Now please! I ask you, do you actually believe that somebody who uses utensils to eat pizza has a clue about middle class American life? And yet the irony is that many folks comprising Trump's base-supporters eat pizza with their hands and would be clueless regarding the use of small fork / large fork.

God bless young Barron Trump. You just know that boy has never enjoyed a Spam/onion & mustard sandwich nor a Bologna sandwich fried in ketchup.
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Eating Snickers Bar With Knife & Fork

Crazy?

We often hear gun advocates make the claim, "Guns don't kill, people kill," or "We don't need gun control, we need mental health reform." Okay, let's examine the latter assertion. First, we know that former President Ronald Reagan defunded support of mental institutions back in the early 1980's. That meant people who were mentally unstable and belonged in an institution were released from those mental hospitals and placed in your neighborhoods across America. Those were called half-way houses. The mental patient was given prescription drugs to keep them 'at bay;' to keep them from doing something 'crazy.' 'Crazy' that could result in harm to themselves or to you or to your family members. How's that working out? Thanks Reagan.

Once in awhile, I forget to take my blood pressure pills...do you readers ever forget to take medicine? Well if that medicine is Risperdal that your neighbor forgot to take today, you just might wish to stay inside and call the school to inform them your kids "ain't coming."

Look, I'm surely not an expert on mental illness, but I gunna venture a guess here. The first sign that somebody may not be dealin' with a full deck is when that person next door wishes to purchase a military AR-15 assault weapon. Really?
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Just Might Be Crazy

Anybody Carry a Pocket Knife?

The past three years, I've noticed a couple from Ontario, Canada occupying one of the Gulf Side Cottages here in Miramar Beach, Florida. They somewhat stay to themselves but nonetheless are friendly in casual conversation. The gentleman is an excellent chainsaw wood sculptures/wood carver. He travels extensively showing his wares. His wood carving talent reminds me of another knife applied to wood talent...I'm taking about 'whittling.' Whittling is using a sharp pocket style knife and simply trimming away layers of wood from sticks or blocks of wood. The objective appears to be nebulous at best. Grandpa E. V. Bennett, when asked why he whittled said, "It aids my ponderin'."

I don't notice many old farts whittling as in the past. Perhaps they wish to avoid pondering or just maybe the old timers are not introduced to the 'pocket-knife' as those in my youthful generation. Most boys carried a pocket knife back in the 1940's. The pocket knife was, back-in-the-day a great school playground tool...we played 'mumbley peg.' I recall two mumbley peg games, which I played at recess. One was pairing up with another knife carrying Buddy and play at 'match me' game. The first player would attempt to stick his knife in the ground by throwing it in various ways. If his knife stuck in the ground then the next player had to match the throw sticking his knife. For any missed stick the player received a letter 'k-n-i-f-e,' i.e., h-o-r-s-e in basketball shooting. The other mumbley peg game was spreading your feet shoulders width and throwing your picket knife sticking it in the ground between your feet; the one closest to his foot wins. If you stuck it in your foot you were mubley peg King Of The Day. Some kids argued that you were 'Dumb Ass of The Day.'
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The Art of Mumbley Peg

A Legacy of Love

We've all been there. We have faced the anxiousness of waiting and at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, we've all regaled in the joyous family moments of laughter and lightheartedness.

My wife, Gerry and I returned late-afternoon yesterday from the Destin-Fort Walton Beach Airport where four of our fifteen grandchildren boarded a flight back to the St. Louis Metropolitan Area. From there Kaitlyn O'Keefe caught a connecting flight to Chicago and returned to her last Barrington high school semester before entering Indiana University next fall. Caleb Howell this morning is back in his St. Louis County police attire while sister, Erica returns to her law firm's Human Resource office. Finally, Loren Roustio is back at the long grind of St. Louis University's medical school.

The four spent last week with their Nana and Boompa at Miramar Beach, Florida. It was the second visit for Loren and Erica and the first for Caleb and Kaitlyn. The week was filled with great Gulf-Side eating experiences, beach sun bathing and fishing and endless laughter as only family does; sometimes at the expense of one another. I can report unequivocally that my greatest joy is watching the incredible interaction of my grandkids with their Nana...it defies description.

We all hated to see Sunday's departure date arrive. After a mid-morning brunch, we headed for the  Airport where we milked a few more minutes of togetherness before the boarding call moment. We said our goodbyes while hoping in our hearts that there might be a repeat in 12-months. At least, I  heard the girls making those plans.

As my wife and I walked across the Airport garden area, I ask my wife to sit a moment and offer prayer. We thanked God for his blessings of family and the love we share. We prayed for our grandkids' travel safety and continued blessings in their respective journey's. As we continued our walk towards our auto, I asked, "Gerry, do you think we can love TOO MUCH?" She responded,
"Only our Lord loves too much, when He died for us to have eternal life...we're just trying."

I am overjoyed for I know in my heart that this 'legacy of love' for one another and Christ is unbreakable. I am overjoyed, indeed!
(Touch)
Love Remains

Gladly Learn, Gladly Teach & Shoot To Kill

After a thirty-nine year career in public school education and observing five children and grandchildren teaching in public schools, I believe anybody reading this blog would afford me the following expressions even though they may disagree with my premise.

President Trump and the NRA leaders wish to arm teachers with weapons in the attempt to defend their students from would be shooters brandishing AR-15 assault weapons capable of mass killings. The plan calls for training teachers with gun expertise to serve in this guardian capacity.

 I will accept the fact that I will never get my wish to ban all military type weapons from our streets, therefore I've given more in-depth thought to the gun advocates' proposal to arm your childrens' teachers. I will support this idea if the following conditions are met:
   1.  Any teacher expected  to instruct and serve as a School Resource Officer should be paid a full teaching salary and a pro-rated SRO hourly stipend. Please warn your local community's 'Public Schools' Tax Watch Committee.'
     2. The teacher should be armed with and carry on their shoulder for quick access a AR -15   Weapon...what's good for the intruder is good for the armed teacher!
     3. The Federal Government should amend the United States Constitution exonerating any and all public school teachers certified in this capacity from all liabilities resulting from deaths occurring at their hands...especially friendly fire killings.
     4.  All students must wear uniforms which are color-coded as per grade levels. This could aid   teachers in selecting desired shooting targets.
     5.  If a teacher is successful in 'bagging' a perpetrator, the school district pays taxidermist cost to have that attackers head mounted for placement in the teacher's classroom.
     6.  Honors For the Killing Teacher>>Recognition as National Teacher of the Year; Life Time Paid Membership to NRA; White House Invitation w/appropriate recognition and a weekend of golf with Trump at Mar-a-Lago.

I anticipate this proposal would receive support from all the fair-minded Second Amendment
Advocates, the GOP, the NRA  and the far right-wing Christian Evangelicals who cringe at the idea of Pro-Choice but sign-off on Capital Punishment.
(Touch)
Shoot The Bastards

Hail to the Chief

I must be fair with President Trump and make a pivot giving him credit where credit is most certainly due. Traversing those elementary school years, I often heard as did you the American proposition that
"In this great country anybody can grow up to become President of the United States." I never belived that because in the 1940's every man in our family had just one pair of 'Sunday-go-to-meeting-shoes.' FDR and Harry Truman had several different pairs of shoes plus more than one suit and lots of white shirts! Issue settled. No body in my neighborhood was going to become President.

Fast forward nearly seventy years later and Donald Trump is elected the 45th President. His election demonstrates that INDEED, anybody can become President of the U. S. of A.

In the 1960's Mad Magazine introduced Alfred E. Newman the gap-tooth character as a Presidential candidate and we all laughed. Predicated on what sits in the Oval Office these days makes Alfred looks good. The dead-paned glum-faced, Pat Paulson was offered on the Smothers Brothers' television show where he announced six Presidential runs. Americans thought that was ridiculously funny. Fact of the  matter, Trump is twice the comedian than Paulson and a bigger clown than Alfred.

Several years, I taught students in an alternative education program. These were students who lacked self-discipline, could not control morally questionable behavior, fought with institutional authority, were self-centered and immersed in daily drama conflicts. Nothing was ever their fault but they were  always a victim. Additionally, these youngsters had a preponderance for excessive lying. Obviously, all these aforementioned traits are attractive to the American voter and Russian hackers!

Donald Trump proves that 'the Bar' for America's Presidential achievement is extremely low and achieveable by anybody. A leg-up for the candidate who is good at offering angry people 'scapegoats.'

Hail to the Chief!
(Touch)
Hail to The Chief