PSA-170912-Gun Control

The greatest hypocrisy in the world exists in Chicago. Guns are forbidden by Law, but the  government does nothing to enforce the law, unless of course you live on the North side where the color white predominates.

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PSA-170104-Meant To Be Funny

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The Unanswered Mystery of the Century

This came from a union guy in Chicago who didn’t vote for Obama. Very interesting perspective that I never thought of in this light.
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It will be interesting to see what they put in his “Library” about his early years when he is out of office.

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In a country where we take notice of many, many facets of our public figures’ lives, doesn’t it seem odd that there’s so little we know about our current man in the WH, Barack Obama?

For example, we know that Andrew Jackson’s wife smoked a corn cob pipe and was accused of adultery; Abe Lincoln never went to school; Jack Kennedy wore a back brace; Harry Truman played the piano.

As Americans, we enjoy knowing details about our newsmakers, but none of us know one single humanizing fact about the history of our own president.

We are all aware of the lack of uncontestable birth records for Obama; that document managing has been spectacularly successful.

There are however, several additional oddities in Obama’s history that appear to be as well managed as the birthing issue.
One other interesting thing… There are no birth certificates of his daughters that can be found?

It’s interesting that no one who ever dated him has shown up. The charisma that caused women to be drawn to him so strongly during his campaign, certainly would in the normal course of events, lead some lady to come forward, if only to garner some attention for herself. We all know about JFK’s magnetism, that McCain was no monk and quite a few details about Palin’s courtship and even her athletic prowess, Joe Biden’s aneurisms are no secret; look at Cheney and Clinton, we all know about their heart problems. Certainly Wild Bill Clinton’s exploits before and during his White House years, were well known. That’s why it’s so odd that not one lady has stepped up and said, “He was soooo shy…” or “What a great dancer…”

It’s virtually impossible to know anything about this fellow. Who was the best man at his wedding? Start there. Then check groomsmen.

Then get the footage of the graduation ceremony. Has anyone talked to the professors? It is odd that no one is bragging that they knew him or taught him or lived with him.
When did he meet Michele, and how? Are there photos there? Every president gives to the public all their photos, etc. for their library, etc. What has he released? And who voted for him to be the most popular man in 2010? Doesn’t this make you wonder?

Ever wonder why no one ever came forward from Obama’s past saying they knew him, attended school with him, was his friend, etc?? Not one person has ever come forward from his past.

It certainly is very, very strange…
This should be a cause for great concern. To those who voted for him, you may have elected an unqualified, inexperienced shadow man. Have you seen a movie named “The Manchurian Candidate”

As insignificant as each of us might be, someone with whom we went to school will remember our name or face; someone will remember we were the clown or the dork or the brain or the quiet one or the bully or something about us.

George Stephanopoulos of ABC News said the same thing during the 2008 campaign. He questions why no one has acknowledged the president was in their classroom or ate in the same cafeteria or made impromptu speeches on campus. Stephanopoulos also was a classmate of Obama at Columbia — the class of 1984. He says he never had a single class with him.

He is such a great orator; why doesn’t anyone in Obama’s college class remember him? Why won’t he allow Columbia to release his records?

Nobody remembers Obama at Columbia University…
Looking for evidence of Obama’s past, Fox News contacted 400 Columbia University students from the period when Obama claims to have been there… but none remembered him.

Wayne Allyn Root was, like Obama, a political science major at Columbia who also graduated in 1983. In 2008, Root says of Obama, “I don’t know a single person at Columbia that knew him, and they all know me. I don’t have a classmate who ever knew Barack Obama at Columbia, ever.”

Nobody recalls him. Root adds that he was also, like Obama, Class of ’83 Political Science, and says, “You don’t get more exact or closer than that. Never met him in my life, don’t know anyone who ever met him. At class reunion, our 20th reunion five years ago, who was asked to be the speaker of the class? Me. No one ever heard of Barack! And five years ago, nobody even knew who he was. The guy who writes the class notes, who’s kind of the, as we say in New York, ‘the macha’ who knows everybody, has yet to find a person, a human who ever met him.”

Obama’s photograph does not appear in the school’s yearbook and Obama consistently declines requests to talk about his years at Columbia, provide school records, or provide the name of any former classmates or friends while at Columbia .

Some other interesting questions:
Why was Obama’s law license inactivated in 2002? It is said there is no record of him ever taking the Bar exam.
Why was Michelle’s law license inactivated by court order? We understand that was forced to avoid fraud charges.
It is circulating that according to the U.S. Census, there is only one Barack Obama but 27 Social Security numbers and over 80 alias connected to him.

The Social Security number he uses now originated in Connecticut where he is reported to have never lived. And was originally registered to another man (Thomas Louis Wood) from Connecticut, who died in Hawaii while on vacation there. As we all know Social Security Numbers are only issued ‘once, they are not reused’ No wonder all his records are sealed…

That Toddling Town

I was born in Chicago and consider it my hometown. Chicago is thirty miles from where I live now, so I am still very close. Often, I will drive into the city for a show or just to gawk at the buildings and to have some fun dodging taxis and busses on Michigan Avenue. The video below is an amazing time lapse of the city at night.

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<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/126726117″>Chicago Timelapse Project, Windy City Nights II</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/apapics”>Max Wilson</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

We Are the Last Ones

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Sent to me by a friend who played with me on the streets of Burnside a neighborhood  in Chicago. It resonates mightily with all of my generation, i.e. those who remain.

A short (sad) memoir
Born in the 1930s and early 40s, we exist as a very special age cohort. We are the “last ones.” We are the last, climbing out of the depression, who can remember the winds of war and the war itself with fathers and uncles going off. We are the last to remember ration books for everything from sugar to shoes to stoves. We saved tin foil and poured fat into tin cans. We saw cars up on blocks because tires weren’t available. My mother delivered milk in a horse drawn cart.
We are the last to hear Roosevelt’s radio assurances and to see gold stars in the front windows of our grieving neighbors. We can also remember the parades on August 15, 1945; VJ Day.
We saw the ‘boys’ home from the war build their Cape Cod style houses, pouring the cellar, tar papering it over and living there until they could afford the time and money to build it out.

We are the last who spent childhood without television; instead imagining what we heard on the radio. As we all like to brag, with no TV, we spent our childhood “playing outside until the street lights came on.” We did play outside and we did play on our own. There was no little league.

The lack of television in our early years meant, for most of us, that we had little real understanding of what the world was like. Our Saturday afternoons, if at the movies, gave us newsreels of the war and the holocaust sandwiched in between westerns and cartoons. Newspapers and magazines were written for adults. We are the last who had to find out for ourselves.

As we grew up, the country was exploding with growth. The G.I. Bill gave returning veterans the means to get an education and spurred colleges to grow. VA loans fanned a housing boom. Pent up demand coupled with new installment payment plans put factories to work. New highways would bring jobs and mobility. The veterans joined civic clubs and became active in politics. In the late 40s and early 50’s the country seemed to lie in the embrace of brisk but quiet order as it gave birth to its new middle class. Our parents understandably became absorbed with their own new lives. They were free from the confines of the depression and the war. They threw themselves into exploring opportunities they had never imagined.

We weren’t neglected but we weren’t today’s all-consuming family focus. They were glad we played by ourselves ‘until the street lights came on.’ They were busy discovering the post war world.

Most of us had no life plan, but with the unexpected virtue of ignorance and an economic rising tide we simply stepped into the world and went to find out. We entered a world of overflowing plenty and opportunity; a world where we were welcomed. Based on our naïve belief that there was more where this came from, we shaped life as we went.

We enjoyed a luxury; we felt secure in our future. Of course, just as today, not all Americans shared in this experience. Depression poverty was deep rooted. Polio was still a crippler. The Korean War was a dark presage in the early 50s and by mid-decade school children were ducking under desks. China became Red China. Eisenhower sent the first ‘advisors’ to Vietnam. Castro set up camp in Cuba and Khrushchev came to power.
We are the last to experience an interlude when there were no existential threats to our homeland. We came of age in the late 40s and early 50s. The war was over and the cold war, terrorism, climate change, technological upheaval and perpetual economic insecurity had yet to haunt life with insistent unease.

Only we can remember both a time of apocalyptic war and a time when our world was secure and full of bright promise and plenty. We experienced both.

We grew up at the best possible time, a time when the world was getting better not worse.

We are the ‘last ones.’
Now why won’t anyone listen to experience?

Amazing Glass

In 2001 my Garden Club introduced me to a show at the Garfield Park Observatory in Chicago.  Artist Dale Chihuly made special pieces to place strategically throughout the tropical room of the hundred year old observatory. As president of the club I suggested we visit as a group and see what this was all about. It would be a two-fer. One, we would visit the worlds largest indoor garden, and two, we would see some amazing glass works.

Four carloads of anxious gardeners drove into Chicago’s war zone to make the visit, none of us were sorry. In January, as Peggy and I approached Phoenix from the south on the I-10, I spotted a billboard titled Chihuly in the Garden. This image settled in a working bit of brain matter within my cranium and stuck. In the last six weeks I learned that the garden referred to is the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix. Our field trip this week took us there to see what the amazing Dale Chihuly produced. We were not sorry, but thirteen years has passed since my last viewing of his work and the amount of energy required to see all of this exhibit took its toll on us. We came home and crashed.

The Desert Botanical Garden is not new to Peg and I. In years past we toured there to see how desert plant materials look when arranged artistically. Looking at cactus and the myriad of water starved plants that thrive au-naturel in heat gives a scuzzy appearance. The same plants in a garden environment are absolutely beautiful. I will not say much more and let my photos tell the story.

We visited on a dreary late winter day with a thick grey cloud cover. It held the heat down but threw off my pictures. After seeing them, I decided I should have used a setting for a snowy day instead of the standard landscape setting. The photos are acceptable, not great.

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Five Surgeons

This is an old story, but it makes me laugh every time I read it. The problem is that the diagnoses on the fifth patient is so true it is sadder than it is funny. Thanks Rick for today’s chuckle.

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UNTITL~1111

Five surgeons from big cities are discussing who makes the Best

patients to operate on.

The first surgeon, from New York, says, ‘I like to see accountants

on my operating table because when you open them up, everything

inside is numbered.’

The second, from Chicago, responds, ‘Yeah, but you should try

electricians! Everything inside them is color coded.’

The third surgeon, from Dallas, says, ‘No, I really think librarians

are the best, everything inside them is in alphabetical order.’

The fourth surgeon, from Los Angeles chimes in: ‘You know, I like

construction workers…Those guys always understand when you have

a few parts left over.’

But the fifth surgeon, from Washington , DC  shut them all up when

he observed: ‘You’re all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate on.
There’s no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains, and no spine..

Plus, the head and the ass are interchangeable.’

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