Two Cents’  Worth in the Nickel City
First Pitch

As an American writer, I imagined once how it would feel to approach the editor of a big city newspaper and “pitch” an idea for a new column.  I had read somewhere that the best way to partake of any new venture is to play it out in your mind first, like a dress rehearsal.  By doing this you would take into consideration the method of accomplishing your goal, what obstacles to avoid and the unforseen circumstances to overcome.  That way when you get around to actually doing the deed, it will come to you as if by rote, automatically.

I am new to Canada, there are a lot of contrasts compared to the American way of life.  Politics, entertainment, social issues, each one affects us in different ways.   There is the climate factor, employment, the language, all sorts of fodder for my creative mind.  But in my plan for submitting this idea,  I would not be a meek and mild Clark Kent of the Daily Planet.

The black- and- white scenario that projected in my mind made me the Curt Schilling of pitching new ideas.  I would stride into the corner office and my very presence would metaphorically scream, “Stop the presses ” as I hurled well placed salvos like filet-mignon wrapped with the ribbons of originality.

My initial idea?  To write about “nothing.”  I could just “Forrest Gump” my way through the sights and sounds of this Canadian community reporting my American reactions while using my usual flair for resplendent detail.  What could be a more creative way to give my two cents’  worth?  But my projector threw a belt and the film started to unceremoniously melt on my mental screen, causing the reel on the loose spindle to spin and snap its celluloid tail.

“Already been done.”  would be my future editor’s fatalistic response.

“Been done?  By who?” Or is it, by whom?

“Jerry Seinfeld, 1989-98.  You’ll need to come  up with something else.”

Of course, I do what every other self-confident professional would do in a similar situation.  I stall.

“What do you mean, come up with something else?”

“Something different.”

And right then and there I would curse syndication and American programming.  What place does it have on Canadian television, anyway?  Now the wheels are turning.  The boss wants something fresh, different, and readable.  I need to make an appeal.  I require foresight and depth.   That is where you, dear reader, come in.

As an American from Florida currently residing in Sudbury, surely you have a question or two about why I am here?  Something on your mind?  Just feel like venting?  Don’t care what Americans think?  Drop me a line, I’d love to hear from you.  Anything is better than nothing, right?  Besides, that was my concept.  It’s not my fault that Seinfeld came up with my very own original idea first.  So you cannot just sit back and do nothing and I think you know why.

Because nothing has already been done.

Time to pause and reflect… ahhh, that’s better. 

I’ve been rather busy lately and haven’t taken the time to do the thing I love most.  But now here it is Sunday morning and as I glance out at the crystal clear blue Canadian sky, the sun is rising on our sleepy little neighborhood with not a creature stirring… not even a mouse.  We’ve had a brush with winter already.  One morning in particular had snow flurries so thick it made it difficult to see the highway and I had to wonder, “Am I prepared for this?”  But this morning the sun is warm and the snows of a week ago have all melted away.  The grass is still green and if not for the barren trees, one might think it was Spring.  Am I prepared for winter?  Probably not.  But unlike the nomadic Canadians who relish the cold and all those winter activities, I shall endure by thinking warm thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about my Dad lately.  Perhaps it was because the Iowa Hawkeyes had gone 9-0 up until yesterday. story.asp?S=11436708    Back a few years ago, before ESPN and the Big Ten Network, the only way you could follow a game on game day without actually being there was to listen to the radio broadcast.  The Hawkeyes are not a big name team, like Ohio State or Notre Dame, though they play in the toughest conference in college football.  Each year there are at least 4-5 Big Ten schools in the top 25, more than any other conference.  My Dad loved sports and having been struck by Parkinson’s Disease in his mid-thirties, following the Hawks in what ever the venue they were playing in was a great way to spend a Saturday.  I spent many colorful Autumn afternoons listening to football with him.  He would have been ecstatic rootin’ for the Hawkeyes now, even with their loss to Northwestern yesterday.  I cannot think of a more loyal fan.  Funny how memories come and go.  Though he has been dead for going on two decades, until recently… I haven’t thought of my Dad in years.

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350 was a topic of interest a week or so ago.  http://www.350.org/  I had read an article in the local newspaper about the climate and this organization that was moving towards the lessening of carbon in the atmosphere.  The writer admitted it wasn’t a number she was familiar with until she began writing the article, but recommended that we all should become acquainted with the movement, so now… you are, too.  Can we do something about global warming and the air we breathe?  I don’t know, but perhaps it is worth a try.  My Dad used to say, “There’s no sense in getting mad, you just have to get glad again.”  It would be good to get glad about the environment again.

This is my 350th post.  I looked on the Internet for other remarkable 350 milestones.  There is the Oldsmobile Rocket 350 and the 350 Chevy engines.  There is the 350 Z from the company formally known as Datsun.  In the year of our Lord, 350: the city of Antioch (Turkey) installed the first lighting system in the world.  (gotta love the Internet)  There  are only two NFL quarterbacks who have thrown at least 350 touchdowns. (ditto)  China’s 350 million cigarette smokers consume 1/3 of the product worldwide.  “… killing me softly with each drag…” (double ditto)  Sex actually started 350 million years ago.   http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/science/article5804234.ece (triple ditto)  The constellation, Ophiuchus (the Serpent Holder), is 350 million light-years away.  (quadruple ditto) and 350 million dollars is just a drop in the bucket for a virtual site.  http://www.atmasphere.net/wp/archives/2007/08/01/disney-buys-club-penguin-for-350-million  (quintuple ditto)  So what’s next for AMRFP?  (not to be confused with AARP)

After a self-imposed exile of two months and an unceremonious rejection from the local newspaper, the writing urge is still burning inside of me.  I wrote a short story recently and entered it into a contest sponsored by CBC Radio.  I cannot put it here because that would garnish a disqualification since they consider online publishing of an un-published work “publishing”.  Needless to say; win, lose or draw… it will appear here eventually.  I also still have the 8 original articles that I submitted to the local paper and will begin placing them here starting with post #351.  I have taken a break from the Shades of Hemingway series, but that doesn’t mean I do not think of it from time to time and will eventually post the conclusion here, much to your chagrin.

So, at my 3.5 centuple I would just like to say… thanks.  It has been very therapeutic for me and encouraging.  I look forward to other milestones in the future and hope to continue Advantages of Mutual Respect and Fair Play for a little while longer.

peace.

“How are you adjusting to Canadian life?”

“I think Canadian life should be adjusting to me!”

I may be a typical American.  In fact, at the conclusion of the above conversation (yes, it was real) the nice person I was speaking to declared, “Spoken like a typical American!”  All in good humor, of course.  But I’m not sure what being a typical American is… or if it is an all exclusive temperament.

Some Canadians view us with a certain envy, others with disdain.  They think we are loud, boisterous and spoiled… and those are the envious ones.  I’ve heard it said that we come to Canada to take what we want and are very rude while acquiring it.  That while we are here we expect to be catered to and have an air of superiority.  Maybe we are just a little bit too proud…

After all, we took our liberty; nobody handed it to us, there was no civil negotiation… we had to fight for it.  And it seems we have been fighting for it ever since, justifying ourselves to the rest of the world because we are too rich, influential and powerful.  But are we really all that bad?  And is being rude and obnoxious just an American trait that we have a monopoly on?

I was in line at Tim Horton’s the other day, in the drive thru.  I had pulled off the highway and in doing so you could make an immediate right and go into the Esso or pull straight ahead into the drive thru.  Of course there was a line up and when I realized if I pulled forward too far I would block the entrance to the Esso I held back to allow cars to enter and exit that place of business.  Wouldn’t you know it, some guy swung around to get in line ahead of me?

My BB and I were in Walmart a while back (lately her favorite store) and we were looking to check out with only a handful of items.  As everyone does, we were looking for the shortest line, trying to avoid the automated, “Now serving number 10, now serving number 13, now serving number 5…”  When we realized the check out we were semi-standing in line next to was just as good as the rest and were resigning ourselves to it aloud,  a young man and woman briskly shoved their loaded cart ahead of us.

I approached a local newspaper with an idea for a column.  I had written several letters to the editor (6) which appeared regularly the first few months of my arrival here.  I became friendly (incidentally) with a staff writer through one of the soccer organizations because her sons played with ours.  An e-mail from her told me that the managing editor really like my writing and suggested I approach him with a column, so I did.  I spent 30 minutes in his office, supplied 8 original pieces at 500 words each and impressed the hell out of him with my background.  But then I never heard from him.  I phoned and left messages, I wrote e-mails, I wrote more letters to the editor (which they did not publish) I even went by his office and left a note saying please return my stuff.  Then I got to wondering… “Who does not even have the courtesy to contact you and at least say, “You don’t have what we need?” “  Especially when you go out of your way to make it easy for them to do so?

I guess what I am trying to say is this.  There are assholes everywhere and maybe I am the biggest one around, but one thing I have learned in my short time here on earth is that you treat people the way you would want them to treat you.  Canadians are no more discourteous than any other nationality, but when you are a stranger in these parts perhaps it stands out a little more, and that’s too bad.  The vast majority of Canadian citizens have been very receptive and gracious.  It would be unfair to lump all of them into a stereotypical mold… just as it is unfair to categorize all Americans unfavorably. 

When people ask me how I like it here I say, “ I like it”  because I do… I really do.  When we light the fire and snuggle up close, winter is a welcome aphrodisiac for my BB and me.  As I drive and look out at the scenery, I marvel at the differences between Florida and Canada… each has its own unique beauty.  The change of the seasons here makes me appreciate each ones signal to the alert onlooker;  prepare, store, expand, indulge.  I enjoy every minute of each passing day and regret nothing.  I am a very lucky guy.    

I just wish that some of the rudeness that seems so prevalent in American society had not followed me up here.

peace.

“Don’t anyone wake me if it’s just a dream, ’cause she’s the best thing ever happened to me.”  Angel Eyes by Jeff Healey

I don’t think about dying much.  I prefer to believe that I would be ready for it at any time, fearlessly staring down the Grim Reaper to the point of his awe and embarrassment.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy living.  I still have an ever increasing fondness for Hawaiian style pizza and the seemingly endless varieties of ice cream.  The desire and indulgence of these two items alone could carry me over into the next century.  (a scant 91 years from now)  Not to mention the fact that each morning’s sunrise still inspires an appreciative reverence to the Almighty, music still calms the savage beast in me (or arouses him, depending on the circumstances) and reading a good book or discovering another classic film delightfully tickles my intellect to no end.  Nope, no death fixation here.  So why the somber moment of reflection?  

I am living a dream.  No, I am not rich and famous, I gave up on that a long time ago.  No, I haven’t conquered Mt. Everest or swam the English Channel, neither have I made some stirring contribution towards the betterment of mankind that will headline the annuals of achievement for the next one hundred years.  I am virtually a nobody that will die with quiet dignity amongst a small circle of friends and relatives as most of us do when crossing the finish line in this human race called “life”.  Like everyone else, I’ll be leaving a faint ripple in the sea of mankind that will ebb away into the calmness of those deep, still waters.  But until then…

The 20th of September is an anniversary of sorts, the day my BB and I made contact.   I had actually commented on her blog on the 9th of the month, but it was just a random hit… one of many I had instigated back when I was bored and just reading other blogs to pass the time.  Hers was different.  It struck a chord with me, like she was speaking to me or for me… needing my response.  We were both searching then, but we didn’t realize it… casting our bread out into cyberspace waters and not really expecting a bite.  As we connected, there was an honesty and openness there that I had never experienced in a relationship before.  Maybe it was because we didn’t have the distractions that usually accompany a formal meeting.  We couldn’t see each other.  At first, we only had the words we wrote and read, then came telephone conversations but still… no face to face contact.  No visuals of any kind except through our blogs, e-mails or voices… and maybe that made the difference.

 When you first meet someone, the attraction is mostly physical.  Her eyes, legs, hips or breasts are most prominent; his smile, shoulders, biceps or chest most profound.  After that initial impression comes communication; a look, a gesture, an approach, an introduction.  Finally there is a meshing of compatibility and compromise.  My beautiful girl and I had none of that, just two hearts willing to begin a relationship that had no idea where it would end up.

Now this morning (two years later) I am in our living room writing this little message to you all while she prepares breakfast.  She enjoys being a housewife, honestly… it never seems to be a chore for her.  I find myself asking, “What can I do for you today?” and actually wanting to be her handyman.  All those things we told ourselves when our courtship began; all the negativity and apprehension, all the tension and nagging doubts, feelings of unworthiness… they are all gone.  What attracted us to each other is still the central part of our relationship; honesty, trust, communication and of course, mutual respect.

We both work jobs that are not very glamorous, we have simple tastes and find joy in the little things.  Our conversations are lively and thought provoking.  She has her own mind and opinions as do I, but we allow each other the differences that make up our personalities even when we disagree.  I am proud of the way she carries herself; delicate and feminine yet forthright and determined.  I admire her devotion to her children and humble posture before God.  We’ll both admit we are not perfect in any sense of the word and yet find we blend gloriously.  I am constantly telling her what a lucky man I am.  I cannot think of a better reward in this life than having her love me.

So… if I should wake up sometime before I die and find it was all just a dream, if my life with my French Canadian sweetheart has just been the jarbling of events mixed into the cinema of sweet slumber;  rock me gently, coo softly into my ear and whisper a child’s prayer so that I may lull myself back into this ever-comforting blanket of serene contentment.  She is my reality, I require nothing else.

I love you, my fair one.  Sweet dreams all.    

(If embedding disabled by request appears, try double clicking to youTube)

peace.

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My wife and I watched Blazing Saddles a few nights back, the Mel Brooks classic.  She has decided that one way to understand her American husband better is to review his entire DVD collection alphabetically.  The next night we saw Bite the Bullet with Gene Hackman, another western albeit not a comedy but you get the connection.  Anyway, I remarked to BB after we watched Saddles that the movie would not be made today due to how sensitive we have become with being offensive towards any racial, social, ethnic, pantheistic, hedonistic or humanistic group, which rules out quite a few possibilities for good comedy, in my opinion.  I thought about this for a while and pondered how far we have come in this enlightened society of ours.  I remembered some of Lewis Grizzard’s comments on the Thought Police of 1984 (some 25 odd years ago), thinking he was uncanny in his prediction of our future .  We have succumbed to rubbing out individualism and the free expression of an open mind for fear it may be offensive.

I read recently over in England they are in the process of cleaning up the Queen’s English by removing certain expressions from our lexicon.  It is no longer acceptable to say, for example: “It’ll be a black day for…” or ” A dark cloud hung over…” because these words, black… dark…, might relate to a certain minority that may find them offensive.  Fortunately for us we can still be “… in a blue mood…” or “…be green with envy…” because those colors don’t exist in people.  We may still have “…our golden moment…”  “…turn yellow…” ”…drive a lemon…” or “…be aglow with saffron…” with no direct affiliation to Orientals, fruit pickers, Ra and/or the Egyptian sun worshipers… yet.  We might even be ”…in the pink…” though the latter expression hasn’t been fully approved by the Caucasian Society of Corrective English Speaking Rosy Red Assholes, but their decision is pending.  The article I was reading even declared that there was opposition to the word, “moist”.

Immediately I thought of Duncan Hines Cake Mix.

A few years ago, Duncan Hines proclaimed their cake moist as opposed to being dry.  Nobody wants a wet cake, but a moist one?   Well, that is to be most desirable and they displayed the fork pressing the spongy content to prove it wasn’t cardboard.  How could that word hardly be offensive?  Have we lost the essence of the old declaration, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me!” that we used so eloquently in our defense throughout grade school?  Are words really that harmful?  Can it be so that “moist” is truly subversive and needs to be rooted out of our conscience minds and forever banned from our parched lips?  I… for one, say no.

I have this big, thick research book; The Random House Dictionary of the English Language - Copyright 1969 (which hasn’t been altered to comply with New Age thinking) and it defines moist as: adj. 1. moderately or slightly wet; damp.  2. (of the eyes) tearful  3.  accompanied by or connected with liquid or moisture.  Nowhere in that definition do I find it as intended to be offensive.  Which leads me back to Lewis Grizzard.

A popular humorist with a column in the Atlanta Journal, Lewis Grizzard had the ability to make people laugh with him or at him and themselves by telling the thinking public we are taking this life way too seriously for our own good.  Lewis was a southerner and by some opinions; a redneck.  Though an educated man and fairly successful in his day, Grizzard defended his heritage with pride but with malice towards none.  He understood prejudice, having been raised in the Deep South and found most of his detractors decrying the fact that he was non-apologetic for what he considered his good fortune to be “… southern by the grace of God.”  In his book, I Haven’t Understood Anything Since 1962, he stated our society was heading towards a time when expression would be stifled by the ever invasive “thought police”.   Back then (early 90’s) his prediction was founded in subtle humour, today it is commonplace for people to be offended by words that need to be stricken from the mouths and printed pages of our enlightened societies terminology.  Which brings me to that great Canadian, Pierre Elliott Trudeau.

I’ll admit that Canadian politics still baffle me, but there is one thing that has been affirmed in my mind.  Outside of Wayne Gretzky, Neil Young or Alex Trebek; no other Canadian comes close in representing the independent, Canadian spirit better than Trudeau.  Why?  History paints him as a maverick riding in a see-sawing playground of popularity amongst his countrymen.  Trudeau was not a puppet politician who succumbed to the whims of Parliament and/or the White House.  To the best of his ability, he did what was right for Canada.

Trudeau was the first head of state to meet with John and Yoko when they set out on their effort to join political dignitaries together for world peace, lending credibility to John and Yoko’s quest.  Trudeau represented a lessening of government and a more independent role of leadership in the free world as a commonwealth nation.  He was both widely popular and harshly criticized, but even through the fickle polls of public opinion he never compromised.  When asked how he was going to deal with certain political hot potatoes, he’d reply, “Just watch me.”

Jesse Winchester declared him, “the poor man’s friend” because of his seemingly neutral stance on the Vietnam War.  Thousands of draft evaders (including Winchester himself) fled to Canada during those years of conflict, yet Trudeau would not bow to political pressure from the U.S. to turn them away.  While not encouraging them to do so, his view of allowing these ”immigrants” to move freely across Canada’s border gained him the unique status of a “people’s hero” in favor of the stuffed shirts of the old political regime. 

Pierre Elliott Trudeau even adopted the dual national language of French/English and would embrace both as Canada’s rightful heritage.  He did not seek to change those official languages to fit a mold or mindset, but united his country equally under them.  Would this be offensive today?  Only to the closed minded.

Unfortunately, there are some who feel threatened and/or exposed by certain terms or the usage of words that are unflattering, so they think if these are done away with prejudice will cease.  But you cannot censor thoughts or feelings with the deletion of expression, because if you try to do so… where does it end?  There is no language on earth more expressive than the English language as it continually evolves ever larger in content.  I say, don’t suppress it… 

I read recently that because one Canadian family head found the book, To Kill a Mockingbird, offensive it was being removed from the school’s curriculum, despite being a Pulitzer prize winning work.  So countless readers will be sheilded from this piece of classic American literature.  Ernest Hemingway’s work is being called into question and I wonder if Mark Twain could be next.  When we start censoring words, we shut down the free will to express and in turn foster resentment towards those who champion the ability to choose.

Last night my fair Chantal and I sat down to watch a black and white classic from 1938, Bringing Up Baby.  Early into the film, Cary Grant’s character was informed that a large private grant was being offered to the university to aid in his research as a paleontologist.  When told he’d be meeting a lawyer representing the party who was very favorable to placing the grant in their institution, he  commented, “Why, that’s very white of him!” 

If today’s thought police had their way, no doubt this film would have been nixed, too.

Don’t let them do your thinking for you.

peace.

US.Health.Overhaul.Republicans -  SB124890178435291341.html – US.Obama.Health.Care -214254?GT1=43002 - ?GT1=43001

Uh-oh, have you heard?  The Prez is slipping in the polls.  I guess this health care thing has got Americans up in arms about the cost and ramifications of government control in the insurance business, even amongst Democrats! Whoa.  And rightfully so, when has the government ever been able to take anything away from private enterprise and make it better?  But I agree something has to be done.  Maybe if MY plan is put into practice, instead of the public predicting a run on red ink and producing a chasm in the polls, Obama can regain the approval rating he had from the beginning of his term, perhaps even soar to new heights!

Since I have moved to Canada I have been able to observe first hand how their system works.  We all pay for the health care service.  And while it does not cover things like liposuction or cosmetic surgery, it is an arrangement that has positive results.  Canadians are healthier and more robust, averaging higher than Americans though WE spend more on health products and care than anyone else on the planet.

I know you’ve heard the rumors, a shortage of health care professionals and inferior service, but where I live I have not found this to be so.  Maybe this is true of larger cities, but that would make sense because the per capita would be less as the populace grows.  The fact is that emergency rooms in the States have long waits so what you might have here is not so abnormal.  And while Canada may not have the latest innovations, it only makes sense that the U.S. would because it has the resources and the money to develop them.  Remember, though Canada is a very large country, it has only 1/10 the population of our neighbors to the south.

I long for the days when doctors were people who cared for humanity and while taking that Hippocratic oath felt it their duty and privilege to serve.  It wasn’t about making money but helping people.  Somehow I think we lost that.  In choosing careers nowadays the emphasis  is on how wealthy a person can become.  Imagine that kind of bedside manner; a doctor who has the meter running and dollar signs in his eyes…  I wonder if a brazen, methodical, Gucci-wearing, diamond- studded, Tesla- driving, gated-community-living, high-society-seeking surgeon is really better than one who lives by modest means, motivated to heal the sick rather than skin them?  We need to put noble back into the medical profession.

I don’t mean to paint with a broad brush and imply that all health care professionals are only in it for the money because this would not be accurate.  I know several people who render certain medical expertise and are very good at it, make good money and find great satisfaction in knowing they are providing the best possible care in their field and love the fact that they can be of service to their fellow man.  Shucks, there are wealthy plumbers and used-car salesmen who are the same way.  There is nothing wrong with making money!  But I do feel the motivation of health care should be a higher calling, not merely a higher tax bracket.

So here goes, how to put Barack Obama “back in the black” with American public opinion.

1)  Students that receive government loans ( zero interest loans, perhaps?) to put themselves through any medical training should be required, (upon graduation) to work in a government run facility (like a free clinic) for a minimum of 5 years with a base salary while their loan payments are deferred.

2)  Career medical staff working at government run institutions with a fixed pay scale would receive their salaries tax free.

3)  Insurance cards would be available only to those who are employed with the exception of the elderly, handicapped or infirm.  Supplemental insurance would be encouraged to cover lost wages,  living expenses, and intensive or convalescing care.

4)  Welfare recipients, illegal aliens, career criminals and the habitually unemployed would not qualify for this program.

5)  Any government initiative would gradually be introduced and progressively adhered to over the course of the next ten years, making those who qualify covered by government insurance by 2020 while  workers are required immediately to begin funding in order to have substantial capital by that date.

As President, I would discourage the enormous profits of the current health care and pharmaceutical industry.  Barack Obama could regain the confidence of the American public if he championed this.  They put pictures of diseased lungs and decaying teeth to discourage the public from cigarette smoking, why not show pictures of people having to give up their homes or work three jobs in order to afford surgery?  There are some things that to receive a profit on is just morally wrong in my opinion.  I mean really, folks… how much do we need to be adequately fed, clothed and sheltered?  This is not a promotion towards communism, but a plea towards humanitarianism.

Imagine the Good Samaritan of the Bible being motivated by profit…

it kinda takes the compassion out of the parable, doesn’t it?

Of course, this is a work in progress and may raise a few eyebrows but the point is… good health care should not be equated to social status.  There will always be specialists who will no doubt carve their niche with a certain clientele, but this is a call to all those others who feel that pain and suffering should be relieved… at a minimal cost.

peace.

Oh, I love these little posts where we read about the “average” American and what upsets us.  I find I cannot relate to $6.00 cups of coffee, 401K’s, or paying too much for beer at the ballpark, but I do believe there are some things that all Americans feel they are getting ripped off on. 

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I noticed the author did not mention the high cost of prescription medication.  Aren’t most Americans convinced we are paying way too much, especially when Canadians can get the same stuff cheaper and still be able to sell it back to us at a lesser price?

Also, high gas prices still have me pissed, and that is after they have come down.  Even at an average of $2.80 a gallon, the cost of fuel jumped 40% of what it was prior to the gouge we endured 18 months ago.

Food prices have my shorts in a twist as well.  When you live in the most crop productive nation in the world, how is it that food costs have soared better than 10 times what they were a generation ago?  It used to be that chicken was a bargain but lately it has become a gourmet entre’ at my house.

Though I can live without going to the movies, buying expensive drinks at restaurants, bottled water and ATM charges, I cannot live without fuel to get me back and forth to work, nor can I exist without food.  Fortunately I do not require any prescription drugs, but there are some people who have to choose between medication and eating.  This is a terrible crime and a sham. 

There should be a law against making money off of other peoples ailments, whether you be a doctor, lawyer, merchant or chief.  It’s bad enough being sick, worse still being kicked when you are down.

peace.

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this has to be the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.

peace.

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http://music.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=425216&GT1=28102

Abbey Road.  The Beatles last album together after Let It Be. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let_It_Be

Paul is dead, remember?  The Fab Four representing a priest, (John dressed in white)  a pallbearer, (Ringo in a suit) the deceased, (Paul, out of step and barefooted) and the grave digger (George in work clothes) walking across the street with a volkswagon in the background bearing the license plate: 28IF?

Today is the 40th anniversary of that famous album cover.  I guess we can only guess at what might have been had the Beatles survived being themselves.

Don’t get me wrong, I admire them collectively as well as having gone on solo, but I think that they still had some oompf! left in them and might have made some great contributions to the world if they would have continued as a  band.

Remember, the war in Vietnam was still going strong.  We had just landed a man on the moon.  Disco hadn’t been invented yet, nor had rap.  There was no Internet or cell phones, no text messages.  No satellite imagery or GPS. People still thought that Love was the answer. 

Maybe we were too naive back in them days, you know… looking to our rock stars for the answers with lines like, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

But that walk across the street on a hot August afternoon in England signalled an end to an era.  Up until then, we really thought that change was within our grasp because the lads from Liverpool said it could be so.  As they walked away, so did our hopes.

peace.

A funny thing happened on a pit stop at the White House, our president had a kegger and invited some average Americans to be his guests.  Ofcourse I am referring to the group session “beer summit” between Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and police Sgt. James Crowley.  We can only imagine what transpired… 

“We drank a toast to innocence, we drank a toast to now.  We tried to reach beyond the emptiness, but neither one knew how.” 

What a unique idea!  I think the next meeting of Congress should be held at a tailgater’s party.  Think of all the fun that could be had!

“Friday night I crashed your (Democratic) party. Saturday I said, ‘I’m sorry’.  Sunday came and trashed me out again.”

Oh, I know it was just an informal gathering of our two chiefs of state with two ordinary citizens  to discuss better racial relations, but why did it have to escalate to a national setting in the first place?  Somebody should have been smarter than this.  Why can’t we all just get along? 

“They don’t serve beer in Heaven, that’s why we’re drinkin’ it here.”

But all that aside, maybe Make Wiser Brewery should come out with a new brew, call it “Obama’s Blue Ribbon” or “The Average Joe Biden’s Choice.”  It might just bring the country closer together. 

“Oh, I get drunk most every night, seems like all we do is fight.  The more I drink the less I feel blue.  Sometimes I feel like an awful fool, spendin’ my life on an ol’ barstool and yes, I guess, they oughta name a drink after you.”

Something that ALL Americans can partake of and feel equal in!  The only question being, should it be a dark or light?  Imagine all the bickering that could be avoided if we all just took a time out and had a unifying beer…

“Well, I gotta get drunk and I sure do dread it ’cause I know just what I’m gonna do.  Start to spend my money, callin’ everybody honey and I’ll wind up singin’ the blues.”

Better race relations start at being mutually respectful.  An officer of the law represents the margin between civility and chaos, no matter your stature in life or how much “higher” education you have.   A citizen is obligated to recognize that authority and conduct himself accordingly.  Said officer is also duty bound and has sworn to protect and serve that citizen whether they be black or white, remembering that they are also his employer.

“Just sittin’ round drinkin’ with the rest of the guys, six rounds bought and I bought five.”

There are good cops and bad, just as there are good citizens and bad.  If each would give the measure of respect that they feel they themselves are entitled to, any meeting between them would be harmonious and productive.

“Give me some beer drinkin’ music, good country music.”

The morning after would be business as usual…

“Well, I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.  And the beer I had for breakfast, wasn’t bad so I had one more for desert.”

The Gates claim, “It’s because I am black, isn’t it?”  should not have even entered into the picture.  Why do we make excuses for it?  Remember,  it was his neighbors who called the police in the first place.  Were they prejudiced?  The tape recording of the conversation doesn’t bear this out. 

“You were cryin’ in your pretzels, cryin’ in your beer.”

Why did Gates have to bring up his race?  As a highly honored and educated man, he should have known better.  Righteous indignation?  Hmmpf!  More like SELF-righteous!

“Make it one for my baby and one more for the road.”

Truth is, race relations will not improve until people quit using race as an issue, pure and simple.  Our president is not a “black” man, but a supposed  ”everyman”.  He represents us all.  When HE makes race an issue, the country is divided.  Obama should have known better, but it was a friend of his so emotion got the better of him.

“Show me the way to go home.  I’m tired and I wanna go to bed.  I had a little drink about an hour ago and it’s gone right to my head.” 

How much better it would be if we viewed each other as the superior person instead of trying to elevate ourselves.  As the one who turned the water into wine, Jesus once said, “The least amongst you shall become the greatest.”

No amount of beer drinking will change that.

peace.