Planning Ahead

A friend of mine recently posted on his Facebook page what I believe to be his own eulogy. I’ve known the man for thirty plus years and I know he is fighting cancer for the past ten. Later, another friend told me he is in hospice care.

With that in mind I am preparing for my own demise be it in the next five seconds or five decades, I think I have found the perfect tombstone inscription, except I would plagiarize the words and exchange the name and photo with mine. Let me know if you agree.

I Am Proud To Be An Old Fart

I never really liked the terminology “Old Farts” but this makes me feel better about it.
And if you ain’t one, I bet ya you know one!
I got this from an “Old Fart” friend of mine!
OLD FART PRIDE
I’m passing this on as I did not want to be the only old fart receiving it. Actually, it’s not a bad thing to be called, as you will see. Old Farts are easy to spot at sporting events; during the playing of the National Anthem. Old Farts remove their caps and stand at attention and sing without embarrassment.  They know the words and believe in them.

Old Farts remember World War II, Pearl Harbour ,  Guadalcanal , Normandy  and Hitler. They remember the Atomic Age, the Korean War, The Cold War, the Jet Age and the Moon Landing. They remember the 50 plus Peacekeeping Missions from 1945 to 2005, not to mention  Vietnam .

If you bump into an Old Fart on the sidewalk he will apologize. If you pass an Old Fart on the street, he will nod or tip his cap to a lady. Old Farts trust strangers and are courtly to women.

Old Farts hold the door for the next person and always, when walking, make certain the lady is on the inside for protection.

Old Farts get embarrassed if someone curses in front of women and children and they don’t like any filth or dirty language on TV or in movies.

Old Farts have moral courage and personal integrity. They seldom brag unless it’s about their children or grandchildren.

It’s the Old Farts who know our great country is protected, not by politicians, but by the young men and women in the military serving their country.

This country needs Old Farts with their work ethic, sense of responsibility, pride in their country and decent values.

We need them now more than ever.

Thank God for Old Farts!

Pass this on to all the “Old Farts” you know.

I was taught to respect my elders.
It’s just getting harder to find them.

Trump Economy a Failure

I didn’t watch the democrat debate last night because I didn’t feel like getting sick. I saw enough on the news this morning to cause my gall bladder to kick out some serious bile. This bit featured several candidates proclaiming that the Trump economy is a failure because it only addresses the rich, poor people do not benefit.

Let me see now, as I read this they mean that the lowly people don’t get to make the same as the rich. I kind of remember that in a socialist society like the USSR, Cuba and Venezuela the lowly people all make the same as the rich right? That logic fails me. I keep hearing that the Cubans are all poor, but the rich are still rich, except there may be fewer rich people in Cuba. Why? Because the only rich people are the ones running the country, same in Venezuela. At least in the Trump economy there are more rich people because they are all working their asses off to make it. While all of the lowly poor people now have jobs and they are richer than they were under our former leader’s economy when everyone was on food stamps.

There must be a DNA link in me that keeps my feeble brain thinking that the socialist way is evil for the world. There must also be a DNA link in the socialists that cause them to believe that evil is good. Why else would so many of them preach the same wretched doctrine?

I read an article about the new homeless people in all the major cities of the USA. Many of them don’t want to live the idyllic life we normal people live. They actually want to live homeless because it gives them a degree of freedom and liberty not available to those of us who believe in sleeping in a bed. My mind immediately flashed a picture of settlers living in the old west, and homesteaders living in Alaska’s most remote areas. They love living free. A modern day homeless homesteader likes the urban environment over the natures wild best. It is easier to bum a meal on the streets when you get hungry than it is to go catch a fish, or to shoot a squirrel then have to clean it to eat it.

So here we are living in a society that is split into many factions. The socialist side wants to mind control, care for, and provide equal misery for everybody while the capitalist side wants total freedom to allow people to make money and care for themselves. No matter which faction you belong to there will be a fraction of them who are filthy rich who will lord over all the others.

However, I have never heard a socialist ever admit that the ruling class lives a better life than those whose lives he is making better. They are all kind of like Bernie Sanders who drives a posh car, has several homes, and lives rich while preaching free stuff for everyone.

Lately, I have been reading stories from countries who have adopted democratic socialism that are not sounding so beautiful. Evidently a seventy percent taxation is getting these people down, especially after taking in so many refugees and immigrants.

All I can say is that my kids and grandkids will have to deal with it. My sorry ass isn’t going to be around too much longer and I am tough enough to live through most any kind of political culture we impose upon ourselves. I am glad however, that I chose to live conservatively because that is why I can afford to do the things I do today.

Crossing the Bridge

Today is one of those days when I feel the need to write something, but don’t have a clue about the topic. So here I am jumping into the fray hoping inspiration will kick in.

I just got off the phone with a buddy from grammar school. We discussed many things and one of them was our paper routes. It turns out that I got his route when he quit. We discussed dead beat customers who never paid on time. Those were the days when a route was a franchise, and I bought the newspapers and delivered them. If I wanted to get paid I had to collect from my customers. There were weeks when all my pay (profit) was tied up   in unpaid subscriptions. Eventually, I hounded the dead beats into paying up. The hipocrisy of these folks was that they were the ones who complained the most. The paper is late, the paper was in the bushes, the paper was wet, I didn’t get the paper, the list went on and on.

I kept the route for two and a half years, starting in the sixth grade and finishing in the eighth. When I started high school it was time to give it up. Another boy from the neighborhood took it over and had it until he finished school.

I crossed over the bridge to high school, and a new chapter of my life began. I was partially liberated from my parents and free to join clubs and sports activities at will. What did I choose? A job.

The priests who taught at my school lived in a monastery and needed someone to answer the phone and take messages for them. I was the one. It gave me a place to do homework while I waited for the phone to ring. The job started at 4:00 p.m and ended at 7:00 p.m. That gave me a little time to wander around the local business area before I started. I caught a streetcar to go home and was usually home by eight.

Kids today, don’t have experiences like that anymore. When school is finished they run to catch the school bus to take them home. If they are in sports or a club they run to catch the special bus which runs later. Too many kids today, have their own cars to use, and don’t even use buses.

I was a senior before my dad allowed me to use the family car to get to and from school. He always allowed me to use the car for weekend activities, but very seldom did he give his ride to me. I didn’t own a car until I finished college and bought one for my self.

 

Happy Father’s Day?

I’m trying to understand why we still have Father’s Day. Clearly half of the marriages in the world fail and women are bearing the responsibility for raising kids by themselves. So just what are we celebrating? Are we giving men credit for getting their jollies off to get their woman pregnant? What?

Growing up, Father’s Day meant something. Our father’s were all present in the home. The only kids without a father were those whose dads died either by accident, war, or disease. Divorce was still a dirty word. Couples stayed together for the good of the children. It seems today that we don’t have the same temerity to grin and bear personal suffering for the sake of our offspring. Granted, there were some unhappy people but nobody knew they were unhappy because a show of marital unhappiness was taboo.

Most likely the kids of these unhappy people were the ones who started the trend to divorce. They probably resolved to not live in an unhappy relationship like their parents did. More likely than that couples today are more narcissist and would rather not be bothered with marriage vows, or kids. We can blame Hugh Hefner and Playboy for the sexual revolution that opened the doors to pre-marital sex, and birth control pills for the practice of recreational sex.

You may think I am being stupid with my statements, but the fact is that all highly developed countries are now importing child bearing people from less developed countries to keep their populations sustainable. Our government leaders have been pushing us to become more like Europe and I cannot understand that because Europe is in a world of hurt. Why? Europe’s population is at a point where they cannot sustain their cultures anymore. Maybe our leaders want our population to be decimated by a lack of interest in propagation. Seriously, people have forgotten why there is sex and why we have it. The new thinking is to have sex for fun only, and an attitude that maybe if someday I get married I’ll think about having a kid. Have you ever wondered why there is such a problem with abortion? It has become another form of birth control. Planned parenthood means you only have a kid when you want one, and not when nature deems.

The fight for open borders is strongly due to keeping the birthrate in the US above 1.83 children per family. That is the number required to maintain the stability of the culture. Do we think Germany was right to allow so many mid-eastern people to march into their midst? Their birth rate is less than 1.3 kids per family which is below the point of recoverability, good-bye Germany. In the meantime, existing Germans will have a young population of muslims to pay German pensions. What do they care about the future German generations? They have  destroyed their culture by adopting the politically correct program to save the planet by adopting population control. They just didn’t know how, or when to stop. The cure was really simple, allow Nature to run it’s course, and the population would have happened. The problem is that we are so smart that we really believe that a minuscule bunch of people can affect the course of a planet that has been in existence for billions of years. How smart are we to believe that the answer is to reduce the number of people by artificial means when natural selection will do it for us. We really believe that disease, pestilence, war, natural disaster, asteroid collisions is never going to happen, and we will run the planet out of resources. Poor us. We will be crawling all over each other stealing food from neighbors trying to stay alive. Yet these same smart people cannot see themselves being smart enough to solve starvation problems when they occur. Instead they resist using genetically modified foods which grow well and in abundance because they are afraid of eating something strange. Organic is the name of the game, eat healthy, stay healthy, live longer.

The only conclusion I have come to is that Father’s Day is still alive because I am a father, and my kids need a special day to remember that. They need a day to show their kids how to venerate their dad so when their kids have kids they will know to do the same. Living by example is the philosophy I used to raise my kids, and that is why they just stopped by and brought me lunch on this day.

Oh yeah, father’s like to lecture like I just did above, and on Father’s Day my kids can’t say anything negative about my lectures.

Happy Father’s Day!

Wisdom Shared

I love when friends send me stuff. The wisdom being passed around on the internet is amazing. All we have to do is separate the facts from the fiction and we are safe.

“SIX LITTLE STORIES” –

 

{1} Once all villagers decided to  pray for rain  On the day of prayer all the people gathered, but only one boy came with an umbrella.

That’s FAITH.

 

{2}  When you throw babies in the air, they laugh because they know you will catch them.

That’s TRUST.

 

{3}  Every night we go to bed without any assurance of being alive the next morning, but still we set the alarms to wake up.

That’s HOPE.

 

{4}  We plan big things for tomorrow in spite of zero knowledge of the future.

That’s CONFIDENCE

 

{5}  We see the world suffering, but still we get married and have children.

That’s LOVE.

 

 {6}  On an old man’s shirt was written a sentence ‘I am not 80 years old; I am sweet 16 with 64 years of experience.’

That’s ATTITUDE.

 

Have a happy day and live your life like the six stories.

When I was a child, I thought nap time was punishment. Now it’s like a mini-vacation.

 

“GOOD FRIENDS ARE THE RARE JEWELS OF LIFE. DIFFICULT TO FIND AND IMPOSSIBLE TO REPLACE!

I Resent That

 

Yesterday, John Dean, a lawyer from the Watergate-Nixon era testified before Congress. His mission was to bash Trump and to point us toward impeachment. What really pissed me off was not that Dean was a credible witness which he is not, but that the news people kept telling me that he is eighty years old. So what? The implication was that being eighty makes one unknowledgeable and not credible. I’m over eighty and I believe I can keep up with the best of the younger generation. Not only that, I hang with a group of men in which I am the baby. Any of us would be capable of debating any newscaster in the country. We keep abreast of the news, and we regularly debate current issues all while remaining friends.

Aging definitely comes with problems, many of them are memory related. Those of us who are lucky enough to retain our minds live active cognitive lives. One thing for sure, we aged have to put up with too many memory loss jokes, although I find most of them hilarious. When one experiences age related memory problems as I have, the age jokes don’t seem very funny no matter how true they may be.

I happen to live with a wife who is one of the unfortunate aged who has lost her ability to remember anything. The sadness of her disease is that she is at a point where she has given up chewing and is now forgetting how to swallow. Think about that one. Try eating (baby food) without being able to chew or swallow. Her best meal these days is breakfast. She seems to be most functional after twelve to fifteen hours of sleep. She eats a decent breakfast but then goes downhill from there refusing to eat either lunch or supper. Some men consider me lucky since she has been unable to speak for over three years.  Speech is a valuable function we take for granted. For instance, she cannot tell me how she feels, or what hurts. The only sound she can make is a siren like whine when we (me and her caretaker) move her to change her. I have to read her body language to get an idea of her situation.

My advice to people these days is to pray for a quick death. People who drop dead instantly receive a gift from God. In my wife’s case she is the opposite. Looking back at our history together her first symptoms began to appear seven years ago. She is at a point where the skin on her lower extremities has very poor blood circulation and the result is she gets pressure sores that cannot heal. One doctor told me that her disease is terrible because the brain dies before the rest of the body. I agree with that assessment, but will add to it. When the body does begin to fail it does so in a slow creeping manner. The life force of blood is needed to support major organs so body parts like toes, feet, legs etc. lose.

My philosophy is to give her the best drug-free quality of life possible. At this point the quality is in how comfortably she sleeps. When my beloved sleeps twenty-two hours a day, and is frowning the whole time she is in some kind of discomfort. Right now I am wrestling with a decision to use morphine to ease her discomfort. I get an argument from her caretaker that morphine will make her to sleep more and accelerate her death. The hospice nurses argue that morphine merely relaxes a person so they don’t fight so hard to live with pain. The relaxation allows them to pass comfortably and peacefully. One argument I make with myself is that if she is no longer eating or drinking, and sleeping twenty-two hours a day what difference will it be if I administer morphine and she sleeps twenty-four hours in peace.

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