Goodbye Old Friend

If you have ever lived with someone or something for a long, long time you will understand the meaning of the phrase “parting is such sweet sorrow.”  I have recently parted with an old friend. I spent considerable time with him over the past four weeks and have learned immensely. I fell in love with his words, and images. His country is one in which I would live if I had to live life over. There is but one problem with living with him in this land I would have to be racist. This country is very friendly to those who are not black, Mexican, or Indian.

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The friend I speak of is a novel titled “Texas” by James Michener. One thousand ninety-six pages long I estimate it to be filled with six hundred sixty-thousand words, or the equivalent of seven ordinary novels it was a joy to read. This is the eleventh Michener book I have read, and each has been engrossing. Although he plans them similarly reading one or two books will not give away his secret to success. If I had to tell you which is my favorite there is no argument it is his first novel “Tales of the South Pacific.” Out of the forty-one titles he wrote I read six, and they are jumbo novels of a thousand pages. I loved each and every page of his writing and the historical perspective.

Texas gave me a new  perspective on Mexico, Mexicans, illegal border crossings and the reasons why our country is now experiencing the difficulty of illegal immigration. I won’t try to explain it all here I’ll let you read this book and learn from it yourself. Did it change my mind about anything? Nope. I still believe, and know, that Mexicans are great workers, good family people, and hungry for a better life. I also still believe that the borders of the United States are set, and define where the US ends and Mexico begins. I also believe in the sovereignty of our nation,  our system of laws, our economic system, and politics.

There is within the United States a group of people who are firmly committed to return land stretching from Los Angeles to Santa Fe, once a remote part of Mexico, to their origins. These people believe that there should be a section between the two countries where there exists a population that speaks two languages, but the principal one being Spanish. They believe kids should be taught in Spanish until they are finished with grammar school. They believe that this population should have dual citizenships with free movement between the two separate countries. They believe both sets of laws should be maintained.

The Supreme court ruled unanimously to extend bi-lingual schooling (Lau vs Nichols) based on the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Schools all across America have been working feverishly to teach in multiple languages in order to get government money. Quite frankly, I don’t think the government money is worth having to teach multiple languages. Think about that, schools have to hire multi-lingual teachers or provide classes with a teacher who knows the language of the child. What if the school is unlucky enough to have kids from Mexico, China, Pakistan, Sudan, Mongolia, Hungary and Belarus. What would you do? I know what I would do, I’d forget the ruling, and let the kids fend for themselves, they would learn English within a year like my brother did, or like the kids of every immigrant who ever came to these shores. Instead we have school systems that bend over backwards to get those government dollars. If we need to correct this terrible system we will have to amend the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Going a bit further off my original rant, I can say that I have never met a Mexican I didn’t like, but I have met a bunch of politicians who are just plain assholes who live off the government tit.

Maybe the time has come that the United States of America should reboot. When a computer  goes crazy, the first thing we do is shut it down to re-boot it. This usually resets the software to its original settings, and clears out extraneous garbage until things work again. Perhaps we need to shut down the government and restart with the simple settings we had when the Constitution was adopted.

I guess I can make the point that the value of reading a book like Texas is that it is thought-provoking and certainly educational. I made a big deal about only one of a thousand points that exist in this narrative. I could make a lifetime of blog posts about ideas that came to me from Michener’s work.

My Kind Of Gal

This piece is bound to roil liberals who have worked so diligently to give us the conditions we now enjoy, but I am a Conservative and I give a rats ass about how turbulent the roiling is.

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Don’t mess with Texas women – they are hard! They may smile and talk funny; but, they all know how to shoot and castrate steers!

“IF YOU CAN’T FIX IT WITH A HAMMER, YOU’VE GOT AN ELECTRICAL PROBLEM”

WRITTEN BY A 21 YEAR OLD FEMALE. Wow, this girl has a great plan! Love the last thing she would do – the  best.

This was written by a 21  yr. Old female who gets it. It’s her future she’s worried about and this is how she feels about the social welfare big government state that she’s being forced to live in! These solutions are just common sense in her opinion.

This was in the Waco Tribune Herald, Waco , TX

PUT ME IN CHARGE . . .

Put me in charge of food stamps. I’d get rid of Lone Star cards; no cash for Ding Dongs or Ho Ho’s, just money for 50-pound bags of rice and beans, blocks of cheese and all the powdered milk you can haul away. If you want steak and frozen pizza, then get a job.

Put me in charge of Medicaid. The first thing I’d do is to get women Norplant birth control implants or tubal ligations. Then, we’ll test recipients for drugs, alcohol, and nicotine.
If you want to reproduce or use drugs, alcohol, or smoke, then get a job.

 

Put me in charge of government housing. Ever live in a military barracks? You will maintain our property in a clean and good state of repair. Your “home” will be subject to inspections anytime and possessions will be inventoried. If you want a plasma TV or Xbox
360, then get a job and your own place.

In addition, you will either present a check stub from a job each week or you will report to a “government” job. It may be cleaning the roadways of trash, painting and repairing public housing,  whatever we find for you.

We will sell your 22-inch rims and low profile tires and your blasting stereo and speakers and put that money toward the “common good.”

Before you write that I’ve violated someone’s  rights, realize that all of the above is voluntary. If you want our money, accept our rules. Before you say that this would be “demeaning” and  ruin their “self-esteem,” consider that it wasn’t that long ago that
taking someone else’s money for doing absolutely nothing was demeaning and lowered self-esteem.

If we are expected to pay for other people’s mistakes we should at least attempt to make them learn from their bad choices. The current system rewards them for continuing to make bad
choices.

I love this one.

AND While you are on Gov’t subsistence, you no longer can VOTE! Yes, that is correct. For you to vote would be a conflict of interest. You will voluntarily remove yourself from voting while you are receiving a Gov’t welfare check. If you want to vote, then get a job.

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Thank You Texas

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Thank you Will Gober from Midland, Texas for a truly inspirational piece.

TEXAS GOODBYE

This is why America will remain strong. We take care of our own as well as others who may not deserve taking care of. I just wanted to share with you all that out of a horrible tragedy we were blessed by so many people.

Chris Kyle was Derek’s teammate through 10 years of training and battle. They both suffer/suffered from PTSD to some extent and took great care of each other because of it.

2006 in Ramadi was horrible for young men that never had any more aggressive physical contact with another human than on a Texas football field.

They lost many friends. Chris became the armed services number #1 sniper of all time. Not something he was happy about, other than the fact that in so doing, he saved a lot of American lives.

Three years ago, his wife Taya asked him to leave the SEAL teams as he had a huge bounty on his head by Al Qaeda. He did and wrote the book “The American Sniper.” 100% of the proceeds from the book went to two of the SEAL families who had lost their sons in Iraq .

That was the kind of guy Chris was. He formed a company in Dallas to train military, police and I think firemen as far as protecting themselves in difficult situations. He also formed a foundation to work with military people suffering from PTSD. Chris was a giver not a taker.

He, along with a friend and neighbor, Chad Littlefield, were murdered trying to help a young man that had served six months in Iraq and claimed to have PTSD.

Now I need to tell you about all of the blessings.

Southwest Airlines flew in any SEAL and their family from any airport they flew into
​…​
free of charge.

The employees donated buddy passes and one lady worked for four days without much of a break to see that it happened.

Volunteers were at both airports in Dallas to drive them to the hotel.

The Marriott Hotel reduced their rates to $45 a night and cleared the hotel for only SEALs and family.

The Midlothian, TX Police Department paid the $45 a night for each room. I would guess there were about 200 people staying at the hotel, 100 of them were SEALs. Two large buses were chartered (an unknown donor paid the bill) to transport people to the different events and they also had a few rental cars (donated). The police and secret service were on duty 24 hours during the stay at our hotel.

At the Kyle house, the Texas DPS parked a large motor home in front to block the view from reporters. It remained there the entire five days for the SEALs to congregate in and all to use the restroom so as not to have to go in the house. Taya, their two small children and both sets of parents were staying in the home.

Only a hand full of SEALs went into the home as they had different duties and meetings were held sometimes on a hourly basis. It was a huge coordination of many different events and security. Derek was assigned to be a Pall Bearer, to escort Chris’ body when it was transferred from the Midlothian Funeral Home to the Arlington Funeral Home, and to be with Taya. A tough job.

Taya seldom came out of her bedroom. The house was full with people from the church and other family members that would come each day to help. I spent one morning in a bedroom with Chris’ mom and the next morning with Chad Littlefield’s parents (the other man murdered with Chris). A tough job.

George W Bush and his wife Laura met and talked to everyone on the Seal Team one on one. They went behind closed doors with Taya for quite a while. They had prayer with us all. You can tell when people were sincere and caring

Nolan Ryan sent his cooking team, a huge grill and lots of steaks, chicken and hamburgers. They set up in the front yard and fed people all day long including the 200 SEALs and their families. The next day a local BBQ restaurant set up a buffet in front of the house and fed all once again. Food was plentiful and all were taken care of. The family’s church kept those inside the house well fed.

Jerry Jones, the man everyone loves to hate, was a rock star. He made sure that we all were taken care of. His wife and he were just making sure everyone was taken care of….Class… He donated the use of Cowboy Stadium for the services as it was determined that so many wanted to attend.
The charter buses transported us to the stadium on Monday at 10:30 am. Every car, bus, motorcycle was searched with bomb dogs and police. I am not sure if kooks were making threats trying to make a name for themselves or if so many SEALs in one place was a security risk, I don’t know. We willingly obliged. No purses went into the stadium!

We were taken to The Legends room high up and a large buffet was available. That was for about 300 people. We were growing.

A Medal of Honor recipient was there, lots of secret service and police and Sarah Palin and her husband. She looked nice, this was a very formal military service.

The service started at 1:00 pm and when we were escorted onto the field I was shocked. We heard that about 10,000 people had come to attend also. They were seated in the stadium seats behind us. It was a beautiful and emotional service.

The Bagpipe and drum corps were wonderful and the Texas A&M men’s choir stood through the entire service and sang right at the end. We were all in tears.

The next day was the 200-mile procession from Midlothian, TX to Austin for burial. It was a cold, drizzly, windy day, but the people were out. We had dozens of police motorcycles riders, freedom riders, five chartered buses and lots of cars. You had to have a pass to be in the procession and still it was huge. Two helicopters circled the procession with snipers sitting out the side door for protection. It was the longest funeral procession ever in the state of Texas. People were everywhere. The entire route was shut down ahead of us, the people were lined up on the side of the road the entire way. Firemen were down on one knee, police officers were holding their hats over their hearts, children waving flags, veterans saluting as we went by. Every bridge had fire trucks with large flags displayed from their tall ladders, people all along the entire 200 miles were standing in the cold weather. It was so heartwarming. Taya rode in the hearse with Chris’ body so Derek rode the route with us. I was so grateful to have that time with him.

The service was at Texas National Cemetery. Very few are buried there and you have to apply to get in. It is like people from the Civil War, Medal of Honor winners, a few from the Alamo and all the historical people of Texas. It was a nice service and the Freedom Riders surrounded the outside of the entire cemetery to keep the crazy church people from Kansas that protest at military funerals away from us.

Each SEAL put his Trident (metal SEAL badge) on the top of Chris’ casket, one at a time. A lot hit it in with one blow. Derek was the only one to take four taps to put his in and it was almost like he was caressing it as he did it. Another tearful moment.

After the service Governor Rick Perry and his wife, Anita, invited us to the governor’s mansion. She stood at the door, greeted each of us individually, and gave each of the SEALs a coin of Texas. She was a sincere, compassionate, and gracious hostess.

We were able to tour the ground floor and then went into the garden for beverages and BBQ. So many of the Seal team guys said that after they get out they are moving to Texas. They remarked that they had never felt so much love and hospitality. The charter buses then took the guys to the airport to catch their returning flights. Derek just now called and after a 20 hours flight he is back in his spot, in a dangerous land on the other side of the world, protecting America.

We just wanted to share with you, the events of a quite emotional, but blessed week.

Punch-line:
To this day, no one in the White House has ever acknowledged Chris Kyle.
However, the President can call some sport person and congratulate him on announcing to the world that he is gay??? What the hell is happening to our
society, our honor and our pride??

 

 

“You Own This”

When I began this blog my intended goal was to preach the benefits of human potential, or the power of positive thinking. I still preach allot but not much on positive thinking. In fact, I find myself struggling to stay positive in a transformative government. You see, I don’t want the country transformed. What I see coming is something everyone will hate, even the notorious millennium generation. They are just too young and idyllic to understand now.

I received an e-mail from my young son living in Texas. He isn’t so young anymore, but he is my baby. Mike, it turns out, is a better writer and a better motivator than his dad will ever dream of being.  Mike has three kids, all are gems.(This is where I preach about how great my grand kids are. I do so only because they are). Mike’s three kids are all swimmers. I mean swimmers who get up at 5:00 am to go to the pool to workout before school, and then they go to the pool after school to work out, They spend their weekends at swim meets, they live for swimming, academics, and music. I spoke to Mike last week and he told me that he was taking his daughter Abbey to a swim meet at Texas A&M. His wife Lisa was taking Danny to a swim meet closer to home.

This morning I told myself that I will have to call and get details of how they did. As I sat waiting for Peg’s foot to soak after a surgery I found his e-mail. I read it and tears of joy streamed down my face. Here is Mike’s account of  Abbey’s swim meet at Texas A&M last Saturday.

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1650 meters.  

5413.39 feet.
Just over 1 mile.
For swimmers, the 1650 is the ultimate endurance and conditioning race….66 laps.
 
 
Your grand daughter Abbey competed in her first 1650 meter free style event this weekend at Texas A&M University Champions Swim Meet.  Her coach told her that she would experience several emotions during this race: pain, anguish, quitting, crying, asking “why am I doing this?”  He also told her that she would experience physical signs, burning legs, burning arms, burning lungs, thumbing heart.  He was telling her what she didn’t want to hear, the truth.  I was lucky enough to be on deck timing for this event for Abbey.  I know better than to interrupt per pre-swim ritual and concentration, so I sat there watching her psych herself up for the pain.  Before getting on the block, she looked at me, and I told her: “You own this”.  She proceeded to get on the block, and prepare for the start.
 
The horn sounded, and she was off.  She looked very strong, and very consistent with her breathing.  Every 4 strokes of her arms, I’d see her head turn and come up for air.  Her split times were very consistent, almost to the tenth of a second.  She looked like a finely tuned engine in the water.  After 20 laps, she was still keeping her splits.  Her breathing pattern was not as consistent, sometimes going four strokes, sometimes 2, sometimes 3.  It’s obvious the burn had started.  
 
After 40 laps, her splits were amazingly consistent with the start of the race.  Her breathing was not as in synch, but she looked strong.  After 60 laps, her pace was still on.  By this point, I think I was feeling more emotions than she was.  She had told me she had 2 goals for this race, the first, to finish, the second, to finish in under 20 minutes.  As the last few laps were counted, down, she still maintained her initial pace.  
 
After the 66th lap, she came in strong, touched the wall, and I hit the button on the stop watch.  I looked down to see Abbey needed any help getting out of the pool.  She stayed in the water for a moment, so I gazed down at the stop watch.  She finished the race in 18:53:33!!!  That is an AA time for this event.  My mouth dropped open. I looked up and saw her drying off.  She wanted to see the time, so I showed it to her.  She looked at me and smiled, then went off to get her post-race talk with Coach Trent.  
 
I asked her if she had gone through those waves of emotions like her coach mentioned, and she said “not really”.  Then she told me “it wasn’t that bad”.
 
Here is a picture of the facility at Texas A&M, as well as her “reloading” on a nice big chocolate brownie after lunch.  You can still see how red she is in the picture.  This was at least 30 minutes after the event.  She actually went back into the warm down pool and swam a bit to cool down after the 1650!!
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A Piece of History to Learn From

This is an incident I was totally unaware of. I have always wondered what would happen if “we the people” decided we have had enough. This video answers the question. It also answers why the local police are equipping themselves with armored cars, and military trained policemen.

Here  is another more recent example of how our government reacts to an organized citizen protest.

Why am I worried about these things? What will happen if our economy collapses and the country comes to a standstill. Bread costs a hundred dollars a loaf if you can find it, milk is two hundred dollars a gallon if you can find it, cars are out of gas and left where they did. No body works, and you begin to tear the woodwork off your house to fuel a fire to keep warm. What will happen then? The president will declare martial law, and suspend the Constitution. He becomes a dictator to save the country. He decides which camp you will call home from this point on. You will be killed if caught on the streets after curfew. We learn to live by a new set of rules, and our dream to enact term limits has vaporized. What will you do? The government is training for what they will do, but we will be an untrained chaotic mob.

I would rather solve the problem before we get to this point. That is why our government has to live within the constraint of a budget and not spend more than it can afford. Overspending will ultimately result in economic collapse.

Call your Representative today and demand that he/she support spending cuts, and the repeal of the ACA.

Pump More Lead

US troops marching on Monterrey during the Mex...

US troops marching on Monterrey during the Mexican-American War. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It seems that Obama, the community organizer, has expanded his territory. Now, he has delusions of grandeur by blitzing Central America. He failed to organize Europe, so he concentrates on lessor nations. If Obama is so darned upset about the way we treat Mexicans jumping the border into the USA, why is he blaming Mexican hate on his own country? The country that screwed the Mexicans and began a new race of Euro-Mayans called Mexicans are to blame. The Spaniards are the ones who stomped on the Indians and beat them into submission very much like the Muslims did to Europe several times.

Three years ago, I drew a cartoon depicting Obama’s solution to the Mexican-border problem. I must admit, however, that I was way off in my prediction of how far he would move the border to avoid building a fence. He really wants to give back every inch we won from the Mexicali’s during the Mexican-American war between 1846-47. The war began under Democrat President James K. Polk. The US beat the Mexicans soundly. Our army pushed deep into several Mexican states, and even took Mexico City. When it was over, the US generously gave the Mexicans their land south of  the Rio Grande. We paid them $15 million cash for California, and New Mexico, then forgave their $3.25 million debt to the USA (That sounds like a bailout to me.) The Mexicans conceded Texas to the USA which they previously lost to Texans in 1836. Now, the Mexicans cry foul and want their territory back. I have news for them, they are not going to get it. Even the Mexicans who have lived here legally for generations will not give it back.

So where does Obama get off telling me that I am the reason for all of Mexico’s problems? If Obama feels Mexicans need some redistribution, he should become president of Mexico and work on the Mexican one-percent.

The problem with Obama is that he has no sense of history, probably because a Progressive school (Punahou) taught him.

If I were to re-draw the cartoon to the way Obama wants the border, it will extend from a point north of Los Angeles all the way to Louisiana. Since California is already socialist and in his pocket, with New Mexico close to becoming socialist, he only needs Arizona and Texas. He is suing Arizona, but will stay away from Texas because he knows the Texans will pump more lead into his assministration than the Department of Homeland Security has in stock.

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Burning Gas-Where the Heck is Andrews, Texas?

Adapted from Wikipedia's TX county maps by Set...

Adapted from Wikipedia’s TX county maps by Seth Ilys. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The next leg of our trip pointed us straight North. It was my intention to visit the Midland- Odessa area, but the hotels were very expensive. Midland is a famous oil industry town, and the place where George Bush senior had his business and George Jr, grew up. We found Andrews, Texas just thirty miles north of Midland with hotels from the same chain for one-third the price. We drove the extra thirty miles.

The population in Andrews is around sixteen thousand souls, but I couldn’t figure where in the world they lived. As is my habit, before we checked in, I drove down main street to search out an eating place. The town was very short and not very wide. Where are these people? I did spot a place called Joe’s Italian Restaurant and decided to come back there for the evening meal.

Aside from a myriad of Mexican fast food stands, Joe’s appeared the finest restaurant we could find. I made  reservations for dinner from the hotel. It turned out that Joe’s is a family restaurant with formica topped tables, vinyl covered booth seats, and a tile floor. It was large inside, and could easily seat a hundred people, but there were only a dozen people inside seated. Several large fans moved air around to cool us off. It was a hundred degrees outside, and eighty inside. We seated ourselves and ordered lasagna, and drinks. I asked the waitress if they served anything stronger than Pepsi, she looked at me questioningly. “Like wine or beer?”

“Oh no,” she laughed.

“Why not?”

“Sir, this is a dry county.”

“Oh my, do you mean I have to drive thirty miles back to Midland to get a drink?”

“Yes.”

“I guess I’ll have a diet Pepsi.”

While waiting for the meal to arrive, Peggy and I played swat the fly. The place was buzzing with flies, that had a mean disposition.

The waitress bought our meals on a tray. She used serving gloves to place the dishes in front of us.

“Be careful these plates are hot,” she warned.

We proceeded with caution to cut into the lasagna. I forked a piece and blew on it vigorously to cool it off. Finally, I built enough nerve to test it on my tongue. There is nothing worse than a burned tongue. It was surprisingly cool.

The plate was sizzling, the cheese on top melted and drippy hot, but the interior was cool. I kept eating. I wasn’t going to send it back after driving without eating all day.

The following morning on our way out of Andrews we found a neighborhood where people actually lived. In just a few minutes the town disappeared into the West Texas landscape. The land is flat and void of vegetation, and the Midland-Odessa skyline is visible from thirty miles away. Nearly every farmer leases his land to an oil company, and oil is being pumped into field-storage tanks. The cartoon in the preceding post shows a West Texas pickup truck. No kidding, there were dozens of semi-tankers emptying the field storage tanks as we drove through on a Monday morning.

The next leg of the journey took us across the border into New Mexico. I thought Texas had a lot of oil, but the real action is going on in eastern New Mexico. There are easily three times as many wells in New Mexico as there are in Texas.  Less than an hour into NM we passed through a refinery. Yes, the road passed right through the darn thing. I had visions of the Union 76 refinery in the town of Lemont near our home that just happens to blow up every ten years or so. I pressed hard on the throttle to get the heck out of there. It would be just my luck that a once in a lifetime explosion happens as we drive through.

The journey continues westward to Alamagordo.

The terrain along the Texas-New Mexico border.

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