So I Changed my Mind.

1966…43 years ago, I was 12. I was a Dodger fan. I’m still a Dodger fan, so this year didn’t end right. Never-the-less in 1966 I picked the Dodgers to win the World Series. They had the previous year or two. But Baltimore swept them in 4 games; in fact the Dodger’s only scored 2 runs in the series as I recall. It was pitiful. I still hate the Orioles for it. From then on I have had an uncanny ability to pick the winner of the World Series. I know nobody believes me, but it’s true. Usually I watch a couple of games and know for sure. But I can usually tell from the playoffs.

This year I opened my big mouth and let the world know of my record. I had chosen correctly in 42 straight series. This year I picked Phillies over the Yankees. It went against what everyone else in the sports world was saying, but I’ve been there before. I had to brag about it. I’ve told a few people in the past but never the whole internet on Face Book. I even had people defending my knowledge of baseball, which isn’t as vast as some people think…but I won’t tell them that.

The truth is I knew by game 2 I was wrong. Here’s what happened. I hadn’t seen the Phillies pitching really. I figured it would hold up from last year and with Cliff Lee in there they should be able to handle the Yankees, I didn’t know Hammels and Lidge didn’t show up this year and at least one of them wanted to take his ball and go home early.

You need to know I don’t hate the Yankees. I really like a lot of the players on the team. I still can’t figure out what Mario Rivera does that is so effective. It just is. I think it’s probably psychological mostly. That’s the only thing I see going on. Anyway, when Yankee pitching shut down some of the Phillies hitting, the writing was on the wall. When your big gun sets a World Series record for most Strike Outs in a Series, there’s a problem. Utley went nuts, and Wade had his moments, but it was usually with the bases empty.

Both teams deserved to be there and either one could have won. It was a pretty evenly matched couple of teams. It was a good series. But now I have to hate them both like the Orioles. They made me look pretty stupid. You don’t mess with a 42 year record, even if you are the Yankees. I’m not real great at anything else, just getting the World Series right (technically I did this time too, but it wasn’t until game 2).

That leaves me thinking I will never again say it out loud to anyone ever again. I’m not a gambler so I’ll never get anything out of it except some satisfaction. But then I can change my mind once I see the match up and not spout off to the world.

I do have to say nobody has really rubbed it in. I’m hoping they forgot about it. If that’s the case then I can still claim an extension on my record. But don’t ask, and don’t tell is now my policy, and you’ll never know if I’m telling you the truth or not if you ask and I do pick a team, because this is now just my fun thing and mine alone. I’ve been chastened and humbled and have learned my lesson. Well at least until next October.

Flowers, Witches and Other Thoughts

I was reflecting the other day, but I had to get ready for work, so I left the mirror and started thinking. That’s not always the best thing to do, think.

My wife is always asking me out of the blue, “So what do you think?” I’ve learned that it’s not always a good idea to tell her. It usually ends up with her crying and me feeling like scum; not that the thoughts are bad. It just gets her talking and pretty soon I’m in trouble for one reason or another.

For instance, I was remembering a flower show we used to hold in elementary school years ago. If I were to tell her I was thinking about that, pretty soon she’d be saying things like, “So who did you bring your flowers for?”. You see what I mean. The problem is we went to the same elementary school and grew up with the same people, so any mention of any person leads her to wonder if I’m having an old fling come back. The fact I haven’t seen anybody we grew up with since high school doesn’t matter. I have learned though most people change so much after 30 plus years you don’t recognized them anyway.

It was a pretty neat thing, the flower show. We all brought our entries and the school people put them in the gymnasium on bleachers and tables and stuff. We would get to get out of class and go walk through them all. Hay fever aside it was really quite fun, walking the aisles with your arms folded so you wouldn’t touch anything, trying to find your own floral wonder, and of course you had to admire your friend’s entry. By then the judges made their decisions. You could see if you won a ribbon. I won a red 2nd place ribbon once. The closest I ever got to being somebody in elementary school.

There was an assembly at the end of the week and they called you up to the stage to get your ribbon. This wasn’t just any old assembly either because the parents got to come too. Everyone knew it was the Mom’s who put the arrangements together, but we pretended we did it (trust me Moms can be just as bad as Dads and Pinewood Derby cars). So the moms who came were just as enthusiastic with the awards ceremony.

I have no idea what I took that won 2nd place, but I do remember one particularly embarrassing year. My mother made me take weeds. She told me to go out in the field behind our house and pick weeds. For heaven’s sakes this is a flower show, not a weed show. I thought you tried to get rid of weeds out of the flower beds. How humiliating. I don’t remember if I went ahead and entered the weeds or not. For all I know they won second place. Usually I took Irises. We had a ton of those (talk about weeds). I hated them. I still do.

Another time my mother, who I swear was on a “ruin the kid’s life kick” (this had to be the same year as the weeds), for Halloween I had to wear a costume to school. My mother made me go as a witch. A witch! How humiliating is that to a 3rd grade boy? She explained the idea is to be something different so that no one knows who you are. I bought it. So I wore it. Things would have been just fine until they made you stand up and take off your mask and tell everyone what you were. They all laughed, especially the boys who were cool. They were Zorro and Lone Ranger and Superman and cool things. I was a witch. I wanted someone to throw water at me so I would melt right then and there. My mom thought it was funny. I didn’t dare tell her what I was thinking. It must have started about then. I wonder if Obama ever had to dress up as a witch. It could explain a few things.

A Grand Slam Life

What do you say when a good friend dies and you miss it? I just found out a guy I knew from the time he was about 9 years old until now died a month ago. I knew him through little league baseball. He was after my time as a little leaguer but I had the chance to watch him and his two brothers play and grow up.

I watched him start out pretty bad, and end up one of the best. His coach called him Corny. I never quite knew why, but knowing his happy go lucky personality and pension for joking around I suspect it was related to that. He had a way of being at bat when the bases were loaded in his last year of little league. I’ve never seen someone hit so many grand slams in my life.

I remember watching him in an all-star game….the bases were loaded. I turned to the score keeper next to me and said you watch he’s going to belt it out of here. She didn’t appreciate that because her son was pitching I think. Corny not only belted it out of the park he smashed that ball to bits. It was a long homerun.

I remember talking to him a few years later about religion. He was about 15 and wondering. He never came to terms with it that I ever knew. I lost touch with the family for years. Though every now and then we’d run into each other.

I last saw them at my father’s funeral. They all came. Being a member of the family I really didn’t get to sit with them all that I wanted to. My wife told me afterward that his mother told her that Corny had cancer. After things settled down I desperately tried to find email addresses, I did find some home addresses. I should have written. As usual I struck out. Face Book finally came through, but a month too late.

In life he and his family are in my mind the equivalent of a grand slam; kind, generous, friends, almost family. But, I’m upset that I missed his funeral, and wasn’t there for them after they were there for me. I will always remember his happy smile, his fun loving character, and his love for his family. He is missed and one day I hope to be able to announce another of his ball games, talk to him about life, about work, about him with him.

Corny isn’t wondering about religion anymore, except perhaps to pick up things he didn’t learn here. As far as I know he was as knowledgeable as any bishop. But if he didn’t he now knows there’s more than what is here on this earth. There are friends and family that he may have never met there with him now. Maybe he looked my Dad and his old coach up. One day I feel sure I’ll see him again. I know he’ll live again in a resurrected body; one that won’t betray him again. Don’t keep the bench warm for me Corny, I’ll be there soon enough, but make sure the microphone works when I get there.

The Best of the Best

I have a friend (I do too!) who is tired of talking about politics and the state of the country. So he decided we would debate who the best Beatle was. He said George Harrison. He was wrong of course, but had some good points. Everyone knows it was Paul, by far. John was a close second, then George. George wrote some interesting music that had some jazz influences and may have more complicated music than Paul, but the bulk of Paul’s work and the work he did on side B for Abby Road, plus the songs that will last forever like Michelle, and Yesterday, make him immortal. John had Imagine and George had Here Comes the Sun. But poor George also stole the tune to He’s So Fine for My Sweet Lord. John just never was the same after the Beatles, but the synergy with Paul was amazing, but without him…well like I said John had Imagine.

That’s all very interesting, but I got thinking (I did too!) what is the greatest Rock and Roll band? These are my choices: The Beatles, Rolling Stones, the Who, Credence Clearwater Revival, and the Beach Boys. The Beatles would beat the Who and Credence. I would have to say they are also better than the Stones. So that leaves the Beach Boys and The Beatles. The Beatles did do homage to the Beach Boys in Back in the USSR, so they respected them. The biggest difference is the Beach Boys were about fun songs for the most part, but Good Vibration holds up against the Beatles stuff. In the end though I’m still going to have to go with the Beatles, because of how they defined the generation globally.

Who is the best male vocalist? My picks would be Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Elvis, and Tony Bennett. Frank would easily out sing Elvis. Tony and Frank, now that is an interesting match up, but I think Frank would still win. However for pure voice my favorite is Nat King Cole.

What about the best female vocalist? Barbara Streisand puts them all to shame, though Ella Fitzgerald in a different genre could outdo Streisand. Streisand’s technical purity and clarity just isn’t possible to beat. Judy Garland comes close.

Then there's the question about who is the best baseball player of all time? Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Ty Cobb, Hank Aaron? Babe was always my favorite. He could throw and hit. Joe DiMaggio was a great hitter, but wasn’t as all around great like Ruth. Ty Cobb could hit. Hank Aaron I just don’t see the influence he had like Ruth. I have to say though the greatest was Jackie Robinson. I know I was throwing you a curve on that. Robinson could do it all too, but did it under some intense pressure, that say Willie Mays couldn’t claim.

Finally the best President of the U.S. (you don’t think I’d let it go do you?) It would be Lincoln, then Washington, then Reagan. The worst, Johnson (Lyndon), Harding, Nixon….and it’s becoming clear Obama, who is going down a similar road as Johnson only magnified about a trillion times.

Come on...George? Really?

The Moses Bladder

Gall bladders have been on my mind lately. Mostly because I wanted mine out and nobody would take it out. I’m too fat I think for them to feel good about burying a scalpel in me. They might not find it again. Colons have been on my mind too. But colons are boring. They just lay there and do whatever it is they do. Sometimes they’re happy, sometimes they’re grumpy, but mostly, they are just there. Someone told me I needed to part with some colon. Two others said no I don’t.
But the Gall Bladder, that’s an entirely different story. Some people said it was bad, others said probably not. Now let’s think about this. What is a gall bladder? It’s a little bag that squishes nasty yellow-green stuff into your colon. Sometimes they get stones in them and clog up. No one has volunteered to create roto-rooter for the gall bladder. Just the name of the thing is weird. Gall from the French Charles De Gaul maybe? Or just from Golly. Maybe it comes from the Gaul of it all because how dare it get stones in it. Chickens eat stones, I don’t. Then there is Bladder from, the English translation of “the Bladder”. There are water bladders, wine bladders, bladder bladders, and gall bladders. Why a bladder, because you can wring it out for the last drop? I saw Moses do that in the Ten Commandments the other day. Nothing was coming out. Maybe he had water bladder stones. Maybe that’s where he got the idea to pull water from a stone. So this is Moses’ fault. Everything eventually gets back to that.
So in the end this was a religious thing. Surgeons are afraid to remove the gall bladder because the ACLU (who won’t defend Moses and his tablets in the court house, but will say he has the right to be heard from but removing a gall bladder will cause people to think Biblically) will sue the surgeon’s because the surgeons want to separate a gall bladder from a person’s state, no matter how poor that state has become.
So I went in for the test on Friday to look at, what else, my stomach, since my gall bladder hurt. I turned to the Surgeon and said when you don’t find anything wrong with my stomach take my gall bladder out. He agreed, because there is money involved. But that’s when the paper work started. I had to have carpel tunnel surgery from all the signing, then they went ahead and took the gall bladder out. Now mind you, I was thinking Biblically, but I didn’t say it to anyone, so that doesn’t count. When the bladder thingy was out, of course we found out it didn’t squish as good as it used to. In fact I’d managed to scar the thing up. That happens when you pick your gall bladder I guess. Of course when I woke up I was in pain. But I could tell immediately that my 2 year battle was over.
By the time the nurses got through walking me up and down the hall like a puppy I had used so many muscles that I never knew existed trying to move around without scrapping off the little tapes on my incisions, that I was actually sorer from the exercise than the little cuts. So far no little globs of fat or scalpels have fallen out of the holes, and I don’t miss my gall bladder at all. I know we’ve been together for awhile now, but frankly I wouldn’t even friend it on Face Book.
I’ve known people who brought their gall bladders home in a little jar with them. I didn’t want mine. What am I going to do with it, wring it out to see if Moses is in there? No one said anything about stones either, so I’m not a chicken. So now I’m a bladderless, Colon owning, non-chicken, who did not eat the stone tablets when Moses tossed them. Sheesh this is as bad as turning 20…now I have to define myself all over again. There’s hope Obama, I might become a socialist after all! You can thank my diseased gall bladder the next time you speak to Congress.

Termination Notice

As a citizen of the United States of America I call for the resignation of the President and his entire Cabinet including all Secretaries and under Secretaries. I call for the resignation of every member of Congress, both the Senate and the House and all of their employees. I call for the Joint Chiefs to act as Commander in Chief for a brief period. All resignations will be effective 5/1/2009.

I call on the states to elect new members of the House of Representatives in an election held on June 30, 2009. No existing member of Congress current or past, no current or past public official, local, state or national may run for this temporary Congress. The only function this Congress initially will have is the responsibility to elect a President and Vice-President. These two people will not have held public office currently or in the past. They may not run for the office or campaign for the office. They will take office July 4, 2009. Their only function will be to act as commander-in-chief. They will have no power to expand our current military operations. They will have no power to reduce our current military operations. Their only function will be to protect the military and our country from harm.

Upon taking office the President will mandate elections for the Senate to take place no later than July 27, 2009. The same rules apply for this election as for the House election as far as who is eligible to run. Once the Senate is in place they will determine the needs in consultation with the President what Cabinet level Departments are needed not to exceed 10. Also all members of the Supreme Court and Federal judges across the country will resign when the Senate takes office. Federal judges will remain in office until the Senate confirms the nominations of the President. No current or past judge may serve in any capacity. Nominations and confirmation of judges will conclude no later than September 30, 2009.

All elected officials will serve for one term only and may not run for reelection. The next cycle of elections will resume as previously scheduled. Term limits will be set at 1 term. On the federal level the longest anyone will be able to serve is 12 years beginning with 2 years in the House, 6 in the Senate, and 12 as President or Vice-President. I call for a constitutional amendment to set these term limits and a limit on a Vice-President running for President after serving as Vice-President. A Vice-President may succeed a President upon death or incapacity, but may not run for election to the Presidency. The Vice-President’s duties will continue as constituted and will also include a portfolio in the cabinet if the President so desires.

I then call on the states to follow suit in a similar manner with the resignations of the Governor and Legislatures and eventually all mayors and council members. The judiciary will need to eventually be changed completely as well. All of this must complete by the end of the year, and similar term limits and rules about who can run for office.

When this is all done by the end of this year, we will have revamped our system pressed the reset button if you will. We will then be strictly governed by (and I know this comes as a shock and worry to some) gasp! The current Constitution of the United States, where presidents can’t fire CEOs, government’s business isn’t business, and people with some common sense about how an economy should run can allow it to run.

I’m sick of it all. And as a taxpayer and citizen, I demand my money’s worth from my elected officials and someone with some common sense, not a socialistic agenda to run the Country the way it was supposed to be run. The way it is now, I’m sorry, but your services are no longer required, you’re fired!

Put the Lime in the Coconut

I’ve been spending time using the medical field and all their fun toys lately. There are a lot of scary looking machines. There is lots of poking and prodding in embarrassing places by people who you don’t know who are of a gender that you’d rather not have poke and prod there. Not that the other gender makes it any better these days, but that’s a bigoted statement now, so I didn’t say it. They can put a man or woman in a space station but still haven’t found the back for those silly gowns they make you wear.

It seems it’s the doctor’s job to shake your hand and say everything is fine as long as you have money. If you don’t have money you are on death’s door, but you’ll need a different specialist at a different hospital it seems. There are those who would argue that is wrong. That somewhere there’s a constitutional right to medical care. There isn’t, but there should be. Being a person who is healthy should not be the privilege of the wealthy only.

Having said that, what makes us think the government can provide that? Think in terms of the bank bailout. Think about Social Security. Think about Obama signing off on whether you have the right to have your tonsils removed or not. Why not? He’s now in the business of giving stock advice…Praise Obama…

But I really don’t want to think about that right now. Nothing I say will matter anyway. I like the nurses. They are nice and tell you things. The doctors spend 2 minutes with you and you are supposed to be enthused about their presence. They don’t care about you. To tell the truth neither does the nurse. The difference is the nurses have to deal with the fall out if you the patient are unhappy so they try to be nice.

What’s amazing to me is how you can rack up a bill the whole time you are having such a lovely time joking around with the nurse. The finance department doesn’t joke. They are just mean. Have you ever wondered how if you pay for the hospital stay, why you get a bill from every doctor who ever poked their head in the room? And every procedure creates a new bill by different doctors and different labs? I had a procedure once where I had one doctor who did the procedure, there were three other technician/doctors in the room at one point or another to adjust the temperature, or straighten the blankets or something. They got to charge as much as the guy who did the work. I don’t get it.

Manny Ramirez gets some big bucks, but does the bat boy charge him for services rendered? Or that kid who wipes up the floor at NBA games, does he get to charge per swipe? Or the guy who does your dishes at the restaurant, does he send a bill per utensil? Somehow hospitals and medical care live in a different world than the rest of us.

You know that’s true too when you go into the building. There are flowers on the wall, next to pictures on the wall, next to paneling, next to arrows directing you to departments. People in those departments rarely see those on another floor. They have a cafeteria to eat in, so they don’t leave the building for lunch. So they don’t see the real world either. Makes you wonder if they are shipped in from Area 51 where the government breeds them from the alien’s they found in Roswell. Who knows? It could happen.

This much I know is that they’re going to take some stuff out of me and charge me to do it. It’s supposed to make me feel better, but it really won’t. You’d think they’d pay me for the donation of parts. But they really don’t want my parts. So why should I give them to an unappreciative audience? They’re going poke and prod until I do anyway, so what choice do I have? It is for my own good, they say as they empty my bank account. But you see the government is doing that already so the joke’s on them. All they’re going to get is some diseased piece of me and Obama telling them what to do next. Maybe there is some justice in this world.

On the Road to Failure

So Lizard Lips Pelosi is learning not to lick her lips on camera during a Presidential speech to a joint session of Congress. Now if she could just stop looking so pompous. And what in the world was that dress she was wearing. Did she think she was at the Oscars and she had to show off her endowment? We have Maria Carrie for a Speaker of the House.

Joe Biden looked like he was bored. Nancy showed him up too. She can jump out the chair faster than he can to cheer on his Highness. Too bad there wasn’t any water in the chamber; Obama could have walked on it for us all. That would prove to us his stimulus package is as potent as he brags (we all know how big the package is and he’s the winner of the last election because of it).

So BO doesn’t want to follow the losers from the Bush years. Think about this for a minute. Bush cut taxes. Economy boomed. Republican Congress spent like they were frenzied Democrats. Economy fails. Obama wants to spend like a Republican Congress apparently. Didn’t they fail according to his Holiness? So tax cuts don’t work, just ask Kennedy, Reagan, and Bush. Spending helps. Just ask Hoover, Johnson, Carter, and Bill.

Let’s see Hoover spending along with Roosevelt spending, brought us the Great Depression. Johnson spending brought us the 70s. Carter brought us the late 70s and early 80s and 21% interest rates. And Bill set us up for the good old recession of the early 2000s.

Reagan set us up for the boom of the 90s. Kennedy gave us the boom of the 60s and Bush, brought us out the Clinton recession, turned the economy around after 9/11 and was doing really not too bad, until the Republicans lost their mind, and then the Democrats took over for the last two years. America’s sweetheart Barnie Frank and his glum friend Chris Dodd give us Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. No one seems to know how to pay their taxes ala Charlie Rangel who wrote the bill.

So now where is the credibility? I’d say nobody in Washington DC has any. The banks don’t have it. The CEOs and the car makers don’t have any. Harry Potter couldn’t even ride in on his white horse waving his wand and fix this mess. It’s time to turn to something we’ve had for a long time and follow it, the Constitution.

It’s time we start understanding that elections aren’t like American Idol. We can’t vote for a Socialist government and expect Capitalism to erupt. We can’t trust a Lizard to guard the hen house. We can’t expect a President who would negotiate with terrorists to do anything else than give money to them to fix their bombed out Gaza. (This money by the way is from a country that relies on the radar of Lizard Lips to flick her tongue and find the mood of the country; then write some legislation that makes sense. I’m sorry Nancy, but that forked tongue of yours didn’t quite figure out the right thing to do).

So we send Pelosi, Obama, Hillary, Rangel, Dobbs, Sleepy Joe Biden, to Washington because they looked nicer than Romney, or Palin, or McCain, and Simon (the Press) liked them better.

Can we expect anything less than a riot this summer or even a coup? I hope so. The people who make sense don’t destroy their own futures. But you cannot expect us to go quietly to the execution of our Country’s values and principles. Wrap your tongue around that one and jump up out of your chair like a jack-in-the-box all you want Pelosi. I think your gang’s days are numbered. I hear there may be a job for you in Italy though.

Look! Up in the Sky!

We finally did it. We inaugurated him. I’m not a fan, but I want him to succeed. What worries me is how he will do it. And what will we have in the end. The inauguration was bland to me. The speech was ok, but not memorable. It wasn’t John Kennedy, Lincoln or FDR. Obama approached it as let’s worry about today. Tomorrow will take care of itself. It was a working presidential speech. It is a call to service and a warning to our enemies.

There was nothing new here. Bush’s second inaugural address was much better and substantive. Bush the first, I read his inaugural and found it an excellent speech, though it was ridiculed, it had at its core the values of America.
To me Obama took the best of many previous presidents’ speeches, put them in his own words and trotted it out there for all to hear. Of course there are many inspired by it. They should be. The speech borrows from several such speeches in the past. Compare it to Kennedy or FDR and yes even Lincoln and Bush I.

The good news for Obama is he doesn’t have the enemies that Bush II had coming into office. With the hatred that developed after his first term election, Bush could do little right, and the critics never let up until the end. There were things to criticize. St. Reagan had things to criticize. His Highness Bill had lots to criticize. The good news for Messiah Obama is that no one will criticize now or probably ever, because that would be wrong for the country and a bad show in race relationships. After all the prayer made sure the Whites will do what is right, does any one else have to do what is right?

The bad news is Zeus Obama is on such a high mountain top he has a long, long way to fall. The expectations are so high, he can’t reach them. Even if he gets halfway there he fails to live up to expectations. Of course, the media will couch it in other terms, until he gets on their bad side, if ever. The media loved Kennedy to the end, so who knows it may never happen. But Obama will not live up to the billing. I don’t wish him ill. We need him to succeed. But please in the process please remember it is capitalism that made the country great, not socialism.
Though the poem was strange it is good for him to read over again. In it he’ll see what the average person lives. YoYo Ma and Pearlman were great, but Alexander’s poem was down to earth.

Praise Song for the Day
Each day we go about our business, walking past each other,catching each other’s eyes — or not — about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and in, each one of our ancestors on our tongues.
Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform,patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair. Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oildrum, with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus. A farmer considers thechanging sky. A teacher says, “Take out your pencils. Begin.”
We encounter each other in words — words spiny or smooth,whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someoneand then others who said, “I need to see what’s on the other side. Iknow there’s something better down the road.”
We need to find a place where we are safe. We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised thebridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick theglittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle. Praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign, the figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by “love thy neighbor as thyself.” Others by “first, do no harm” or “take no more than you need.” What if the mightiest word is “love” — love beyond marital, filial, national; love that casts a widening pool of light; love with no need to pre-empt grievance?
In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made,any sentence begun. On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp, praisesong for walking forward in that light.

It's Not a Tantrum, It's not, It's Not, IT'S NOT! ok it really is.

I like to write, but to be honest, I’m at a loss. I’m tired of whining about the government, and I’m glad the election is over. I’ve become very cynical of everything the government does and I don’t trust them.

I’m not feeling real funny at the moment. I just sent a kid away for 2 years to Mexico. He will be doing a wonderful work and its something we planned for his entire life. In fact, he has 2 brothers we planned on too. The oldest one will now have to wait until he’s married and old to go. His younger brother says he wants to grow up to be like the one who just left…but is showing signs of growing up like the older brother.

I kind of felt sorry for the youngest brother today though. He had a guidance counselor just rip him to shreds for not doing anything. He needed it, and I let it happen, but she was a bit harsh in her smiling nice way.

Reality is like that though. Harsh, unforgiving, and it is better to learn it early. The one thing I learned, probably too late is that life isn’t fair. Somehow there are those out there who are treated fairer than others, making things unfair overall. I’ve always wanted to be on the side that got the preferential treatment. Unfortunately, that isn’t fair I guess, so I’ll never be there. That’s a prime example of life not being fair.

Of course you talk to those who are on that side of things, and they don’t think their treatment is any better than anyone else’s. Some feel entitled to it. Some just look down their noses at the rest of us and say, “Life’s not fair, get over it and do something about it.”

And that’s just the thing, you do and do and do but you are never done, and since it isn’t fair you never get there, because the Elite have blocked you out. No, I’m not talking about the BCS and college football, but the principle does apply there as well.

It’s not fair that someone else is driving the Mercedes I want. It’s not fair that I have to travel behind morons who think they have to enforce the speed limit so they travel 5 to 10 under it…only of course when I’m in a hurry. It’s not fair that some people get paid millions and I can’t get a living wage on my own, even with the education and skills I have.

So my reward is in heaven. The question is if life isn’t fair, is the next life? I’m told it is, and whatever I lose out on here comes to me seven fold there. So why can’t I enjoy being the world’s putz, since over there I’ll be, well I don’t know what I’ll be, but I’m hoping it isn’t a District Manager in Hell.

That might not be too bad though. A golden parachute into hell might be better than ministering angel. I don’t know for sure about that, but floating down in the parachute past all those who float past me in this life might have some kind of benefit to it. They of course are elites who will mock me; but I get the last laugh with my golden pitch fork. As a ministering angel I’ll run around doing someone else’s errands. I do that now, so that isn’t a reward.

Of course I don’t want to go to hell, I’m here already. In the end, though, I still don’t want life, then or now, to be fair. I just want to get on the elite’s wagon and push them off. Then pull a bunch of those I know who never get a break on board. I’d even give those falling off a parachute, not golden, but it would serve the purpose to float them to where they really belong.

None of that is Christian thinking is it? We are supposed to love one and all, and not judge others. How is that fair? That’s half the fun of living; trying to prove you are better than everyone else. But since I’m not, and that’s not fair, I think I’ll just throw a tantrum and leave it at that.