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Yesterday’s weather here at the CCB compound near the western edge of Woodward County was gorgeous. Light winds and warm temps – who could ask for more? As I gazed out across the vast expanse of lawn from my seat on the porch, I noticed that the recent rains are starting to green things up. It occurred to me then that it is definitely beginning to resemble springtime here in Northwest Oklahoma.
So I went inside to grab a jug of premixed margaritas, a bowl of fresh salsa, and a brand new bag of corn scoop chips. I had the first margarita of the spring yesterday afternoon while scooping salsa and counting clouds in the sky. Ahhh…seldom does life get any better. Always on the hunt for new material for the blog, I was perusing my tablet and came across an article on the Huffington Post web site that immediately grabbed my attention. It seems that a man in Akron, Ohio was stabbed by his alleged girlfriend because said man allegedly ate “all the salsa in the house.” According to the report, the girlfriend, in some sort of no-salsa rage, allegedly stabbed the boyfriend in the groin with a pen. Hmmm…yep that’s all it said. No indication of whether the pen actually penetrated flesh at the groin location or how deeply it did if in fact there was penetration. There’s no detail about the make of pen that the girlfriend used or whether the boyfriend was dressed at the time. Seems to me that most pens would not be sharp enough or rigid enough to penetrate jeans. The clinical definition of the groin is where the lower portion of the abdomen meets the top of the thigh. I’m betting she was aiming for something else and just missed. Now, as if all that isn’t bad enough, our alleged salsa thief decided to get even and walked over to the girlfriend’s TV and began threatening to throw it to the floor. I doubt seriously that he would actually have gone through with his threat given that most men engaged in serious salsa eating are also generally watching “Gilligan’s Island” marathons on TV. Again, the story fails to mention that he limped over to the TV with the pen protruding from his groin. Thus, I’m conjecturing the pen did not penetrate his clothing (see, that’s why you come to CCB…it’s our clear, concise analysis of seemingly random crap). But, wait…there’s more! So while Salsa Pig (not his real name) was threatening to dump the TV onto the floor, his girlfriend goes into the kitchen (probably told him she was gettin’ more salsa) where she grabbed a knife. She then proceeded to stab her salsa hogging boyfriend in the stomach with the knife. El Salsa (not his real name) began bleeding like a stuck pig (nyuk, nyuk) went over to the phone and dialed 911. At that point, Susie Stabber (not her real name) fled the scene in her car. Huh, bet she was going to buy more salsa (she’ll show him). The police arrived to find him on the ground outside covered in blood. He was transported to the hospital where his wounds were determined to be non-life threatening. Lizzie Borden (again, not her real name) was pulled over by police on the highway. She allegedly admitted to stabbing Redhot Chilipepper (again, not his real name). She claims she did it “because she wanted to leave.” Huh? That’s it? Couldn’t she simply grab her keys and leave? He likely wasn’t going to pursue since he had already consumed all the salsa and was otherwise fully engaged in the Gilligan marathon. The girlfriend was charged with felonious assault and criminal damaging. So, let’s see what we’ve learned from this episode: 1. Under no circumstances should any man eat ALL the friggin’ salsa in the house. Women need their salsa. 2. Never admit anything to the police. Seriously, deny everything. They HAVE to prove that you did it. 3. Stay the hell out of Ohio! Just in case our dedicated readers (still, all none of you) haven’t yet heard, the 1st annual Twister Alley Film Festival is coming to Woodward over 23-25 April. According to the Woodward News in an article published in the Sunday edition, the film festival will feature independent films from all over the world.
Attention! Breaking CCB news exclusive follows: George Clooney and/or Kevin Bacon will visit Woodward for film fest! Well, okay, maybe not though the article mentions that the festival is expected to “…draw A-list actors…” Hmmmm…maybe George Looney and/or Kevin Macon will attend, but A-list actors? Really? Actually, the article says that D’Arcy Fellona (psst…Woodward News, you might want to check the spelling of your A-listers before you to go to print) from the shows 30 Rock and Anger Management and Tommy Beardmore from Shameless and Chicago P.D. will be in attendance. That’s cool, I guess. This shindig is being put on by the Woodward Convention and Tourism Bureau. It’s really a pretty decent deal. A $12 ticket gets you into the beer and BBQ mixer on Thursday night as well as every film throughout the festival. I’m actually really glad to see stuff like this coming to Woodward, hopefully this will catch on and be an annual event. But I digress… So after reading the article, I began to imagine having an indie film of my own shown at The Twister Alley Film Festival and leading a panel to discuss the virtues (or generally lack thereof) of Cinema Verite while dressed as some refugee from Cannes who’s just trying to get home (yes, dark glasses, white silk scarf, and of course the compulsory black beret with “Robin” embroidered on the front). I imagined the city council carrying me from the theater on their shoulders and Lord High Mayor Goetzinger presenting me with a public proclamation. After I came down from that trip down lollipop lane, it occurred to me that I have a ton of material from which to write, direct, and even act in my own independent film. I’m speaking, of course, of my blog postings, from which an independent film virtually writes itself. I know it’s too late to get an entry into this year’s festival, but I’m right on schedule for the 2nd Annual TAFF. So let me try this one on you. The film will be about a Deranged Naked Shooter wearing nothing but his wife's miniskirt. He is set on shooting as many Lesser Prairie-Chickens before they can be counted by government agents. I see this totally as an action film. Luckily for me many of the Lesser Prairie-Chickens remain here on the compound (wife keeps feeding them – I told her not to start because they have to fend for themselves, but she never listens to me) so there’s no shortage of birds. I do need an actor to play the Deranged Naked Shooter though (please bring your own ammo). I’ll play the slightly paranoid, remarkably handsome fellow living in a heavily fortified compound and providing sanctuary for the Lesser Prairie-Chickens. There will be scenes with the Oklahoma wildlife cops overflying the compound with their black helos (daily occurrence here at the compound, won’t even have to schedule anything, just film the overflights). I see this as a metaphor for the buffoonery of the Oklahoma State Legislature and an angst-ridden cry for reform! It’s art, I’m telling you! So if you’re interested in appearing my film which I’m tentatively calling “A Fistful of Chickens”…drop me a line and let me know. The only other idea I had was possibly doing a remake of Hitchcock’s “The Birds” starring the Lesser Prairie-Chickens, but they don’t seem to get angry about anything so I’m not sure it would have worked. Attend the Twister Alley Film Festival…definitely worth the price of admission. See you in Hollywoodward, Baby! Disclaimer – no Lesser Prairie-Chickens were harmed in the process of writing this post…so Oklahoma wildlife people, please stop buzzing the compound. For those who were disappointed that Cosmic City Blog didn’t post anything new yesterday, I apologize. Far be it from me to disappoint our growing audience (all none of you). We here at CCB were busy at the compound yesterday when we were overrun by Lesser Prairie Chickens seeking sanctuary from government fowl counters (see post for 3/23/15 – do I have to explain all of my attempts at humor?).
We now have the Lesser Prairie Chickens settled within compound walls – note to self, keep an eye on the mutts today – so we’re off and running. Where o’ where to start? I know! I came across two separate items involving the Federal government that are kind of, sort of related. You get a two-fer! Let’s start with our United States Congress, which is beginning to disturbingly resemble the Oklahoma State Legislature in thought, word, and deed. I came across a piece from www.FederalNewsRadio.com that revealed some in Congress have deemed it necessary to propose a new law making it illegal for federal employees to check out porn while at the work. What started this rolling is the case of an Environmental Protection Agency employee who was caught last year watching hours of porn every day on his government-provided computer. Two thoughts came to mind as I considered that: · Who cares if an EPA employee is distracted all day with porn? It keeps him from meddling in other peoples’ and/or companies’ business. Heck, it was probably some industrialist group that paid for the porn web site subscriptions. · How is it that EPA’s IT department didn’t notice someone spending HOURS every day looking at porn? Over the past many years I’ve been in charge of day-to-day operations of private sector companies. Part of that oversight was the IT stuff. I can tell you that I could have identified someone looking at porn on a company system within seconds of their landing on the homepage. · Okay, there’s actually a third thing. This law doesn’t do anything really. The dumbasses in Congress/Federal IT have obviously never heard the IT maxim that any IT roadblock put up today can be overcome tomorrow with a new technology. Consider this; let’s say our intrepid federal employee (we’ll call him Fred) is hopelessly addicted to a particular site (insert your favorite fetish site here). Fred knows that the IT department is watching his every move. Hmmmm…it comes to him! Eureka! Fred disconnects his government provided laptop from the system, turns on the wireless circuit and uses his iPhone as a hotspot and voila! Fred’s back to checking his favorite site as often as deems necessary without any prying eyes knowing…hint: Fred…dude…lock your office door. The point here is that Congress can waste time writing, debating, and voting on legislation that really should be a matter of moral ethics. But I have to believe there are more pressing matters? In the case of a private company, the employee would have immediately been terminated for cause. Not so, with the Federal Government. The EPA employee was caught nearly a year ago. He’s been on PAID leave ever since until the government (gub’ment if you’re from Georgia) figures out how to properly terminate him so he doesn’t sue. Yeesh! OH…one last tidbit on this piece…the legislation makes an exception for those feds, such as law enforcement, who have to watch porn as part of their work. Seriously. Maybe the EPA guy should apply to one of those jobs? He certainly has experience. Next up in our tales of Federal lust is a story from the Associated Press that cites a “federal watchdog” who exposed several Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) employees for attending sex parties in Colombia with prostitutes (allegedly hired by drug cartels (no conflicts of interest there!)). Exacerbating the situation was that they were having these parties on U.S. government-leased properties. According to one witness, several agents were provided with money, expensive gifts, and weapons. The AP report says that seven agents admitted attending the parties and that DEA issued suspensions ranging from (get ready for this) 2-10 days. Really? I don’t even know how to comment on something like that. I’m speechless. So, let’s review shall we? DEA agents, allegedly sent to Colombia to thwart drug trade, are allegedly having sex parties with prostitutes that were allegedly hired by members of alleged drug cartels, the agents are allegedly accepting gifts from said alleged party hosts, and allegedly having all this “fun” on alleged government property. Apparently, I’m the only person who finds this sort of behavior troubling on soooooooo many levels, because their own agency slapped their wrists and put them back to work. Judas priest… And they wonder why I drink. I was sitting on the front porch at the compound this morning sipping coffee (for those of you unfamiliar with the NW Oklahoma lifestyle, porch sitting is considered a sport) and perusing the Woodward News (whose motto translated from the Latin is, “Your Advertising Buckage is Best Spent Here!”) when I came upon an article provided by Associated Press on Page 3A (for those of you playing along at home) entitled “Lawmakers Study Nitrogen Gas for Executions”.
Now, that had my attention. I admit to having a rather morbid curiosity about state-sponsored/sanctioned executions. It’s the details: the menu for the last meal, any last words, whether the individual suffered, etc. Personally, I’ve always thought it was a far worse punishment to face a life of imprisonment without any hope of being freed than to face one’s own mortality (literally) at an appointed date and time. I suppose for a state that can’t seem to find the money to pay teachers a decent wage, locking someone up for life doesn’t fall into the category of a sustainable solution. But, I digress… The article was all about the latest efforts of our Oklahoma State Legislature to push legislation that would make Oklahoma the first jurisdiction anywhere in the world to use nitrogen gas as a method of execution through committees and chamber votes at record speed. The thing that made this a legislative priority is a lawsuit filed by inmates on death row in Oklahoma challenging the use of lethal injection as a method of execution following the “botched” execution of an inmate in April 2014. According to the article, the use of nitrogen gas would be the back-up method in case lethal injection is ruled unconstitutional and/or pharmacists refuse to provide the necessary drugs. Now then, I am a reasonable sort of guy (just ask any of my ex-wives). I would have let this thing go if that was all there is to it. I wouldn’t have asked anyone to read through this somewhat macabre post. But noooooooooo, not when the Oklahoma Legislature is involved. Nothing is ever that cut and dried. The article goes on to lay out the four prescribed methods of execution in the legislation. I guess if one method fails, you move on to the next. Now they had my attention. The methods, in order of preference, follow: 1. Lethal Injection – Has been the preferred and in some cases the only method for most states for some time now. This is likely a non-starter. Even if the federal courts don’t rule it unconstitutional or inhumane according to article, the pharmaceutical industry’s governing body is already moving to ham-string participation in executions by any of its pharmacists. 2. Nitrogen Gas - This would involve placing the condemned inmate in an airtight chamber and then filling the chamber with pressurized nitrogen. Supposedly, death comes quickly and painlessly though there is no evidence to support or contradict that claim. In fact, the only thing I’ve ever heard nitrogen gas being used for is inflating tires. Works great for that. Still, Oklahoma may be on to something here though the lack of solid evidence as to its potential for humane application as a method of execution will likely drag the state back into the courts. Then what do you do if all of the tire stores and auto dealerships start hoarding the gas for their own use? 3. Electric Chair - The old standby. Oklahoma hasn’t used the electric chair since 1966. Me thinks they should do some maintenance on Old Sparky before they try to light someone up. I’m guessing there’s a reason it hasn’t been used for nearly 50 years. But unless the prison warden has been using it for Halloween stunts or re-heating leftovers for VIP receptions, I suppose it could be refurbished in a reasonable amount of time. 4. Firing Squad - Really? They’ve never used the firing squad as a method of execution in Oklahoma. Where in the world did they come up with that? I don’t know anything about establishing protocols for carrying out a death sentence, but I’m pretty sure there is more involved than buying a few weapons and finding a few guys willing to shoot someone. In other words, it’ll take some time. I suppose this will result in still more problems with ammo stores keeping their shelves stocked. The one method of execution that I thought was conspicuously missing given Oklahoma’s colorful past is hanging. Guess the legislators lack any relatives in the rope industry. Okay, I’ll wrap this up. I guess I should give the Oklahoma Legislature some credit for trying to think ahead on this. It just concerns me that the legislation is moving through both chambers with little or no debate. I suppose we all have bad days. Days when nothing goes your way. Days when you just want to run naked and shoot guns…wait, what?
I saw something last night on the newsok.com web site about a guy in OKC who was arrested after police say they received reports of a man strung out on PCP shooting a gun and talking about “blowing people up.” When they rolled up on the scene, police found him in the street wearing nothing but a miniskirt and screaming and generally acting “extremely paranoid.” Okay, I’ve had some really bad days in my life and times, but nothing that would send me into the street naked waving a gun around and threatening “people”…jackrabbits maybe, but never people. Luckily for our Deranged Naked Shooter, his wife took the gun away from him before the cops showed up. Otherwise, he may very well have ended up as target practice for OCPD. Of course, the wife told police that she heard her husband fire at least four shots into the air. Guess she wanted to ensure that he was out of the house and in jail for several days. The least she could have done when she took away the gun away was give him a pair of her panties to wear…just sayin’. There were so many unanswered questions in that article. For instance, why would the guy be wearing nothing but a miniskirt? PCP or not, what would possess this fellow to strip naked and put on a skirt before heading outdoors? We here at Cosmic City Blog sent out an investigative team to try to get you some answers. Believe it or not, it may all tie back to Woodward (who knew?). Apparently, just before he stripped naked, grabbed a gun, consumed a largish quantity of narcotics, and started shooting holes in the atmosphere; he had just gotten off the phone with the organizers of the Expo/FarmExpo 2015 event scheduled in late March at the Fairgrounds. He was told that all of the available vendor space is sold out. According to his wife, this was a devastating blow for our Deranged Naked Shooter. He had just received a huge shipment of miniskirts from Indonesia that were still in the original shipping crate that had been dropped at the end of their driveway. Perhaps he was trying on the skirt to test its quality and fit. That of course raises other questions that frankly we, at Cosmic City Blog, just decided to let go. Actually, we at Cosmic City Blog were more interested in where he was able to find bullets to shoot in his gun. Has anyone else noticed that stores are once again having trouble stocking ammo? But, I digress. So maybe, assuming he’s able to get out of jail in the next few days, he can set up his own vendor booth in the parking lot at the Fairgrounds during Expo/Farm Expo to sell his miniskirts. Nah…that’ll likely get him another trip to jail. As his non-attorney advisor/blogger, I would recommend not doing that. Okay, the part about shipping miniskirts from Indonesia was made up. Who knows what the hell the guy was doing in the street wearing a miniskirt. That PCP is baaaaad stuff. If you know where I can find .45 Long Colt ammo, please drop me a line. The 31st Annual Expo/Farm Expo 2015 runs March 27, 28, and 29 at the Fairgrounds. Definitely worth visiting. Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m as paranoid as the next person, probably even more so than most (it’s because I pay attention!). I looked at the front page of Woodward News (whose motto translated from the Latin is “Covering Your World Tuesday-Friday and Sunday”) last Friday (3/20) and saw my worst fears brought to life. There on the front page was a photo that included an airborne black helicopter in the background and an obvious government agent in the foreground peering at something through binoculars.
Supposedly this operation is all about counting lesser prairie chickens during their mating and nesting season. Uh huh. The fact that the article’s writer, Rachael Van Horn, went out of her way to assuage my paranoia by repeatedly stating that the spying really is about a little known bird whose numbers are dwindling…just made me that much more paranoid. Then I got kind of mad about it. Let’s just assume for a minute that the government is really counting their chickens before they hatch (ha ha ha, I crack myself up). You have only to see the picture (provided by the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation (ODWC), whose motto translated from the Latin is “Less Cattle, More Chickens”) and wonder what they’re spending on air reconnaissance and ground surveillance. That’s gotta run into some serious cash. So I began checking into things, which just added to my paranoia. Here’s what I found: ODWC does not use tax dollars for its supposedly innocuous surveillance activities. It has a $40-60 million annual budget (depending on whose numbers you want to believe) that is raised primarily through the sale of hunting and fishing licenses. The rest comes from federal grant money, (interestingly) agriculture and oil leases that it owns, as well as donations from “endangered species funds” (see more below). The helo in the photo appears to be a type and size that would likely cost around $500,000 to buy – course that doesn’t include the flat black paint scheme or the operating cost (fuel, etc.) of buzzing poor lesser prairie chickens in Western Oklahoma to check on their mating habits. Shouldn’t they be using their airborne fleet to count gators in Ft. Supply? Fun Fact: For those of you unfamiliar with NW Oklahoma lore, legend has it that there are gators in Ft. Supply Lake. When I was a kid, people used to debate this without end – “Well, I don’t think they could survive the winters.” Or my favorite, “I knew those people across the street did something with that damned alligator their creepy kid bought through a mail order catalog.” But I digress… I calmed down a bit once I realized that technically tax dollars aren’t being spent in the pursuit of lesser prairie chicken home movies. But wait, there’s more… I found a link between the lesser prairie chicken and an organization called the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) based in Switzerland. The IUCN considers the lesser prairie chicken a “vulnerable” species, which is to say is vulnerable to habitat destruction. Big deal, you say? Well, please keep in mind that the IUCN is the same organization that until the mid-80’s favored the “Yellowstone Model” of conservation which called for the banishment of humans from vulnerable areas. They changed their outlook when the donations began drying up. Now I would just about bet that ODWC is receiving some funding from IUCN for counting lesser prairie chickens (gotta pay for those high-end range finding night vision binoculars somehow)…or that the foreign-based organization is certainly influencing ODWC’s operations. And they wonder why I’m paranoid? So here are a couple of suggestions for ways to count down the lesser prairie chicken’s numbers without pissing me off: · The next time that freakin’ GoogleEarth mobile drives up and down the roads out here taking pictures of people’s property, use those images to count birds. It’ll save ODWC $$ that they can use on more important things like determining how the piranhas got into Crystal Beach Lake (ha ha ha just kidding). · Use the satellite imagery that the city/county/state/whoever uses to locate property improvements so they can gouge you for more tax dollars to count chickens on the ground. · Hijack one or two of Amazon.com drones that constantly pelt my roof with my latest purchases to buzz over the land to count chickens. Finally, if you want to want to ensure that the mating and numbers of the lesser prairie chicken improve, here’s my advice: LEAVE ‘EM ALONE! Seriously. The numbers have reduced over the past century for a number of reasons that include drought and agriculture operations and likely oil/gas operations (note the direct tie-in to ODWC funding). It’s a species that has a very limited range, but I suspect that people tramping around in and flying black helicopters over their environment almost certainly has some impact. I know it would affect my lekking behavior (look it up). I was outdoors this morning dog-paddling around in a puddle of water left from yesterday’s deluge. I love this area and love it even more when it rains, but I digress. After doing a few laps in my Olympic size puddle, I spent a little time lazily floating across the surface on an inner-tube sipping coffee while perusing the latest edition of Woodward News (whose motto, translated from Latin is “Thus Unto Typesetting”) when I came across an article on page 3 about “…legendary western actor and artist Buck Taylor…” making a visit to Woodward later this month.
Anyone over the age of…oh, I don’t dunno…let’s say 40, probably best remembers Buck Taylor as the character Newly in the “Gunsmoke” TV series. He also, of course, played the role of ‘Turkey Creek’ Jack Johnson in the movie, “Tombstone” (personal favorite) and many more. Besides his acting career, he’s apparently made a name for himself as a western artist. That I did not know. See what you can learn from the Woodward News? The reason for the visit is his new role as celebrity spokesperson for the new Boot Hill Casino opening in Dodge City. Good for him. Great for the casino…that’s pretty smart using one of the Gunsmoke regulars to represent your casino. So then I thought about it some more…easy to think clearly as a cold, gentle breeze propelled me across the puddle…and what came to me is that I should offer up myself as a representative to new casinos, dog grooming parlor openings, insurance agency happenings, mega-meat sales bonanzas, anything where a local used-to-be-sort-of celebrity could draw a crowd. Heck, I’ll do it for free! What’s that? You’re asking yourself, what the hell did he ever do? Hrrrrmph! You’re obviously under the age of…oh, I dunno…let’s say 53 if you don’t recall my alter ego, Captain Time. For those of you Googling the name, fuhgeddaboudit. I was so original I was pre-Google. Captain Time was the front man for what I envisioned as a glam-punk band called “Captain Time and the Lost Army of Guitars”. Never heard of us? Good reason for that…we sucked. As Captain Time, I would dress in a pair of tights with a red swimsuit and red socks, a black t-shirt emblazoned with “Boogie Down With CT”, a long dark blue cape (for some reason I couldn’t find black fabric in Woodward, OK at the time), mirrored sunglasses, and one of those stars & stripes motorcycle helmets made famous in the movie “Easy Rider”. One note on the get-up…I didn’t have contact lenses then and the mirrored sunglasses were not prescription. I was/am blind as a bat and generally staggered around like a drunken sailor during appearances. The important thing to remember was that I was cool, but I digress… Captain Time made several appearances throughout my junior and senior years in high school. In fact, one such appearance at a school assembly turned ugly when the people in charge couldn’t find an American flag in the auditorium to use for the Pledge of Allegiance. My future brother-in-law yelled out from the audience, “Use Captain Time’s head!” Thanks, Dave. So, if you have an event to promote, please give me a call. I’d be honored to show up and promote. If you ask nicely, I’ll even bring a guitar and amp and break into my very special rendition of “Celebrity Skin” by Hole. Now that's quality entertainment! Don’t hate me because I’m cool…and, rock on! Okay, I’ll be the first to admit that I was never as politically astute as a lot of my contemporaries growing up in Woodward. I was always too busy reading the liner notes on albums to care whether or not the state legislature of Oklahoma was actually getting anything done. Or, for that matter, why tying increased funding for education to a little known bill that provides behemoth tax incentives to professional wrestlers and professional bass fishermen was at once politically savvy and just so wrong, but I digress.
My point in exposing my tattered credentials as a political groupie is that I readily acknowledge that I may be missing something, but… Has anyone else noticed that many state legislators (and not just in Oklahoma) seem to be a bunch of woefully undereducated bullies bent on pushing a personal agenda while keeping their hands deep inside the pockets of various lobbyists, industry giants, and/or snake oil salespeople? Whew, there, I said it. I feel better now. Or, am I painting too broad a brush here? As an example, there is the state representative from Idaho who was recently in the news for making a really dumb comment during a hearing on a bill that would ban doctors from prescribing abortion-inducing meds through telemedicine, which is to say a physician conducting a remote exam of a patient. The lawmaker was grilling a physician (yep, a real live doctor), who had provided telemedicine services to patients in Idaho, about the efficacy and practice of telemedicine. The doctor was describing a procedure in which a colonoscopy patient might swallow a small device to give the doctors a closer, remote look at the inside of their colon. The intrepid representative asked the Doc, “Can this same procedure then be done in a pregnancy? Swallowing a camera and helping the doctor determine what the situation is?” The stunned doctor responded that the scenario described would be impossible since things that are swallowed don’t generally end up in the vagina. The legislator responded with, “Fascinating. That makes sense.” Really? Of course, he backpedaled when later pressed by the media about the comment. He said that he was being rhetorical. Hmmm, bet he had a staffer feed him that word. After reading that piece, I began to think of some of the bat-sh*t crazy antics we hear and read about Oklahoma legislators doing. Since I lack much in the way of political wherewithal, I figured to give our state pols the benefit of the doubt. As I saw it, after an entire year of dealing with some of the nuts in the state capitol, I’d be bat-sh*t crazy too! But then, I stumbled upon some very interesting information that I did not know. First and foremost is that the state legislation is only in session for less than six months of the year. They break around May and don’t come back until after the New Year. AND, they get paid $38,400 for that time. That’s a decent wage for not really accomplishing anything substantive. AND, apparently, they’re immune from arrest for criminal misdemeanors. They’re living the dream, I’m telling you!!! That’s when I began to think of the state legislature as a welfare society for underemployed or unemployable people. I’m sure there are a lot of smart people in state legislatures everywhere and that we only hear about the dumbasses. But, I kept telling myself that surely the smart guys would rise above the dumbasses and save the day. But, then I realized, eh...not so much. It appears that no matter how well-intentioned you are when you arrive at the state capitol to earn your $38,400 salary, you eventually fall prey to the aforementioned lobbyists and snake-oil salespersons. You get involved in cutting deals that include trying to push the bat-sh*t crazy legislation through so you can get your own (possibly legitimate) legislation pushed to a vote. Where does that end? Time is wasted on the bat-sh*t crazy legislation…even if it doesn’t make it to the floor for a vote. Time that could have been better used to get something substantive done. And, now it’s gone until the next session when the bat-sh*t crazies will come out again. If you’re anything like me (and hopefully you aren’t) and have been losing sleep playing the home version (available for download on xbox and iWhatever) of the “Where’s Vladimir Putin?” game, you finally can rest. I saw in yesterday’s (3/17) edition of Woodward News (whose motto translated from Latin is, “What? News?”) a small two paragraph piece announcing that after a ten-day absence, President Putin (aka, PrezP) has resurfaced seemingly unscathed by disease, coup, and/or yet more breaking news about Bruce Jenner.
While I’m certain there was a collective sigh of relief worldwide that the rumors of critical illness or a coup d’état, were, well…apparently so much hyperbole, it begs the question as to what was going on and where he was for ten days. What follows are my best five Speculations (my term for I’m making crap up as I go) as to what the Russian leader was up to for ten days: 1. He was shirtless with a multi-colored tail hanging behind him attending a local BronyCon (for those of you who are less of a cultural hipster than I, Google it). I’m sure he’d come off as a very macho Brony…probably using the alias Diamond Walnut (think about it…turn it over in your head a few times…it’ll come to you). 2. He and a highly trained army of civil engineers were poring over plans to build a toll-bridge across the Bering Strait, thus joining our two nations. This would allow him to have brunch with the Palins on weekends (“I can see Vlad from my porch!”) and provide a quiet method for getting Edward Snowden back home (rumor has it that the room service bills are getting completely out of hand). 3. He was binge watching concert footage of 1970s Elvis, trying to learn some new judo moves. ломоть горящей любви, Baby! (loses something in the translation ha ha ha). 4. Upset that Obama (via NSA) got to listen in on Angela Merkel’s private phone calls and he didn’t, Putin worked his best technical team night and day for ten days to figure out how NSA pulled it off. Bet he employed Snowden’s expertise in the effort (see Speculation #2 above). 5. He was busy shearing pigs…(look it up. Hint: see Speculation #2) Okay, I’ll admit it…truthfully, I couldn’t have cared less where he was or what he was doing. Yes, I know an overthrow of the government there by the military could have dire repercussions for the world as would the sudden leadership (read as power) vacuum caused if he had taken ill and croaked. The guy bears watching…that’s all I’m saying (pun intended). Today is an important day in Veronica History – my daughter is Veronica. She’s twenty-one and a full-time student at George Mason University in Northern Virginia. I’m sure if/when she ever reads this, she’ll probably take out some kind of no-contact order that prohibits me from ever mentioning her again in this blog or anywhere else, but I just can’t help it. I just realized that she just passed the one year mark with her current boyfriend. Big deal, you say? Read on, you’ll see why this is cause for celebration.
When I met him last year, it was a different sort of experience. She called to say that she was going to stop by and was bringing her friend, (we'll call him) J. I fortified myself with a largish glass of Gentleman Jack and waited. Veronica came through the door wearing a blazer with slacks and dress shoes on rather than the usual yoga pants, hoodie, and sandals. I’m pondering who this young woman standing in my kitchen might be and where she hid my daughter’s body when I finally notice the “friend” standing behind her. The guy seemed to be a decent sort of person with kind of a nerdy and studious look. Actually, he looks like Steven Page, former front man of the band Barenaked Ladies. Talk about a complete departure from what she usually went for! The guy was polite, conversational, had a great sense of humor and appeared very bright (again, completely different from the usual Neanderthals she seemed to hang with). No tattoos that I could see. He was wearing a diamond stud in each ear, but hey, I'll take it. Hair was neatly cut and combed. He was nicely dressed. Just in case you’re wondering why this was so stunning to me, you would have had to witness the various degrees of bums, idiots, and effete snobs that she had known to that point. Let’s examine them, shall we? There was her "Thug" phase - K: guy was scary looking. Seriously. He could have been a rejected member of a thrash metal band. If a thrash metal band won’t have you, it’s a clue. Had tattooed sleeves up both arms and legs. I never heard more than a grunt from him. He lived in an apartment above the office of a self-storage site and managed the place. Only redeeming value was his ability to repair my daughter’s car for a 12-pack of beer. There was her "Oh Ricky You're So Fine" phase - D: This was without a doubt the prettiest man I've ever seen. I'm not kidding...this was a movie star quality looks kind of guy...and just as vacuous. Dude couldn't keep a job and wasn't all that interested in working in the first place. He figured (I think) that he would get by on his good looks and smile. After his parents moved from Northern Virginia back to the family farm in SW Missouri, he soon moved back there to live with them (keep in mind that he was 24 at the time). Never had a job there as far as I know. Veronica flew there twice to spend some time on the place. Only redeeming value there is that Veronica finally got wise and dumped his lazy ass. There was the "Rico Suave" phase - R: Not a bad looking guy. Very responsible. Worked at a restaurant full time. I was always a little suspicious of him because would never tell me his last name. Maybe he was afraid I would start digging around in his past (and I would have). Only redeeming value was that he was very fond of my Rib Ranch-style coleslaw. There was the "Johnny B. Goode" phase - L: I'll say this for Luis...dude could play guitar like he was ringing a bell. I had him pegged to become a gigging musician - had the long hair and the attitude. Boy, was I surprised when I found out he had cut his hair and was in a pre-med program at GMU. Go figure... There may have been one or two others, but you get the general idea. Trust me when I tell you that no one will ever nominate me for father of the year. But, NO father wants to see his daughter head out the door with any of the aforementioned types. I recall a time in the late seventies when my sister fixed me up with a friend of hers while I was home on leave from the Navy. I showed up at this girl’s house wearing pants so tight that I don’t know how I was able to walk and one of those silk disco shirts that was unbuttoned down to mid-abdomen. Her father was sitting in his “Archie Bunker” chair and really giving me the stink eye. And, now I know why. So, for the fathers out there whose daughters are still playing the field, just remember my mantra for all occasions and repeat it three times (silently, lest they think you’ve lost your mind)… ”It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna turn out better than I think.” |
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