Poor impulse control? No impulse control? Whatever!

Impulse is a word that appears as imparting more bad than good. It would be my guess that people these days seem to associate the word in its psychological form and specifically dealing with “poor impulse control” as in criminal acts. Specifically, the criminal acts – thanks to TV programs such as “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” associated with sex.

But impulse, that dealing with human behavior, is not always negative. Indeed there are some wonderful aspects of life that are constructed due to impulse. Of course, circumstances in which impulse may be great in the same manner may be, well, let’s say not so good. Take for instance life in one of its basic forms: birth.

While it is true that birth control has slowed down the numbers of babies resulting from the impulsive act of, as Bob Seger so aptly put it, “the Horizontal Bop.” So called “unprotected sex” not to mention faulty birth control methods still produce the little “surprise.” Some might see that little surprise as surprise!:) or as surprise:/OMG!

Not to get off the point, but doesn’t unprotected sex seem as quite a harsh expression? The phrase evokes showing up to the bed encased in a latex body suit. Or maybe a suit of armor. Let’s say you are just sitting there slowly rusting away from the humidity of the room while awaiting for the fair damsel to arrive with the key to her chastity belt. Quaint.

It also would be interesting to see studies of children of those with “poor” impulse control. Do they have a plan for everything ranging from taking a shit to having the car serviced?

I heard the Steve Winwood song “Roll With It” today while sitting in the IHOP and the title made me think of my impulsive life, good and bad, but mostly good. I never suspected, by the way, that I would do a phone interview with one of that song’s writers. Will Jennings has written or co-written for what seems like a “Who’s Who” of popular music. He co-wrote most popular songs recorded by Winwood, after the artist’s younger years spent with the group Traffic. I interviewed Jennings after he received Song of the Year honors at the Grammys for “Tears In Heaven,” which he co-wrote with Eric Clapton. Jennings came across as warm and unpretentious, which his friends from the college he attended and taught – my alma mater Stephen F. Austin — said were typical.

Oh, while I’m name dropping, most who know me understand I was far from a George Dubya Bush fan. However, I am proud of having interviewed him when he was head of the Texas Rangers baseball team. I was unmolested by handlers and Secret Service, which were prevalent while covering several events while he was president. I was actually part of the press pool a couple of times during visits he made home to Crawford, Texas. And I did get wet once. Pool, wet, get it? That was from waiting in the rain for the Secret Service to do their sweep of the church where I would attend services with the first family. In between baseball and the presidency, I also covered I don’t know how many events while GWB was governor. The same goes for Ricky Bob Perry.

I have had many good times doing the impulsive. And I never did anything to land me in prison. Well, let me rephrase that. I was never imprisoned for anything and kind of leave it at that.

And I did a few impulsive acts I wish I hadn’t. They mostly cost me money or made me feel awkward the next day. I will kind of leave that at that.

Just remember, my friends, there is no explanation better than leaving matters at that. Or maybe that isn’t so. It’s all according to how your boogaloo situation stands, you understand, as if you ever heard “Clap for the Wolfman.”

Today’s mystery guest is ______?

It is time for NAME THIS GLOBAL FIGURE. We (me) provide a photo of some random person who might only be known in some obscure nation (no hard feelings that nation) and you guess who it is. The answer will be provided somewhere down the page. Are you ready?


This lovely is not only attractive but is also a highly-educated former diplomat who speaks four languages fluently and has a basic understanding of three more. She is now:

A: Starring in an upcoming Ethan and Joel Coen adaptation of “Gone With The Wind.

B: Appearing in this year’s “Sports Illustrated” Swimsuit edition.

C: President of Croatia.

D. The first woman to win the Professional Bullriders Assn. title.


Okay. I know which one I would pick, mostly because I made up the quiz and also know the answer. That is said to be a good combination as such.

I know this will really blow your socks off. But she is “C. The President of Croatia.” Wait, you mean there is really a Croatia? Why yes, my stupid friend. Croatia is in Central and Southeastern Europe. It was a part of Yugoslavia until declaring independence in 1991. Pictured is Kolinda Grabar-Kitarović, who took office one week ago as the first woman president of Croatia.

Grabar-Kitarović  holds a master’s degree in international relations from the Faculty of Political Science, University of Zagreb. She was also a Fulbright Scholar at the George Washington University, a Luksic Fellow at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government and a visiting scholar at the Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS) of the Johns Hopkins University in Washington, D.C.

The president held varied positions in government including Croatian ambassador to the U.S. and Assistant Secretary General for Public Diplomacy of NATO.

And yes she speaks Croatian, English, Spanish and Portuguese fluently and has a basic understanding of German, French and Italian.

She likes to drag race, skydive with commandos and speak while huffing helium in her spare time. I just made that up.

Madame President, 46, is married and has two kids. Sorry guys who wanted to marry a president who likes to drag race.


Great name, ugly ship

Adm. Elmo “Bud” Zumwalt was a visionary to some during his tour of duty as Chief of Naval Operations. To others he was a pariah. Zumwalt led the Navy from May 1970 to July 1974. As a matter of fact, he left that post — one he assumed as the youngest CNO in Navy history — only a day before I took the oath to join.

The CNO was known for his looser regulations regarding hair and beards on sailors and beer in barracks vending machines. But he had the thankless job of keeping the Navy in tact during the end of the Vietnam War. That was a time marked by racial riots and widespread drug use among sailors.

I came to admire Zumwalt both during my time in the Navy and up  to the 40 years since. I noted in his biography that the future CNO was a destroyer officer and CO before eventual promotion to flag rank. Although I only served one year, including one western and southern Pacific cruise, on a “tin can,” I was hooked on the older ships’ lines and profiles. So I can’t help but wonder what Zumwalt would have thought about the class of destroyers that would bear his name.


The way ships and whole classes of ships are designed usually take place over a number of years. The DDG-1000 class, which is of the Zumwalt line, began to take shape four or five years after he died in 2000. The ship is a guided missile destroyer that came out of the DD(X) program. The “DD” designation are the identifiers of hull numbers for destroyers that were built up until 1980 when the last Spruance-class ship was commissioned. The ship on which I served was a Gearing-class destroyer which was first laid down in 1944 and eventually launched in 1946. The Agerholm, my home away from home in 1977-78, was the oldest active duty destroyer serving in the Navy at that time.

The Zumwalt is scheduled to join the fleet next year. Two other destroyers are being built in that class, the USS Michael Monsoor and the USS Lyndon B. Johnson. The former ship is named for Master-at Arms 2nd Class Monsoor, who was a SEAL posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions at Ramadi, Iraq, in 2006. Johnson, of course, was the president of the US from 1963-1969, and a World War II Navy Officer.

No doubt, the Zumwalt and its class will be among the most technologically engineered warship in history with advanced electronics and weaponry. She (as ships are referred to) will be 210 feet longer than the WWII era ship on which I served. The widest point of the ship will be double that of as the Agerholm’s width. The “official” speed for the Zumwalt is about the same for all Navy ships, around 30-35 knots, as actual speeds are classified. A big difference between World War II–Vietnam destroyers is in crew size. The Zumwalt class will carry almost half as many crew members. Another big difference is both in missions and armament to carry out those missions.

The old DD-826, my ship, was primarily in the anti-submarine warfare business. It fired torpedoes both through tubes and from rocket launchers. In the early 60s it was the first ship ever to fire a nuclear-powered anti-submarine rocket, or ASROC. With the ship’s two “big guns,” the two 5-inch/38 cannons, the ship could engage in offshore gunfire support. She did so in both Korea and Vietnam. The ship was hit by North Korean gunfire.

The USS Agerholm fires a nuclear-tipped torpedo from a rocket launcher in  1962. Fifteen years later I would ride this beaut

The USS Agerholm fires a nuclear-tipped torpedo from a rocket launcher in 1962. Fifteen years later I would ride this beaut

The Zumwalt carries a variety of missile launchers including those for firing Tomahawk cruise missiles, ASROC, 155mm cannons, among others. The ship can likewise carry two helicopters.

The electronic sensing systems on board are probably too complicated for me to even talk about, if they are not classified, which they probably are. This leaves the design for me to squawk about.

The Zumwalt class will be that of “stealth” destroyers. Take a look at the picture and you will find that DDG-1000 looks nothing like your father’s or grandfather’s tin can. The strange lines and angles of the ship will likely leave enemy radar-watchers without a clue that probably the most lethal destroyer in naval history is coming. It will be a problem for our aggressors. It will be a bit exasperating for me, as well.

You see, all the weird design is, well, I hate to say it, but it is truly butt ugly. Through history, ships have been objects of beautiful design, even if these objects are meant to kill and create havoc. A naval ship is something more than a machine or tank. It, she, or she it, guys (and gals) live on these ships for years or more at a time. Some of us sailors call her home, to paraphrase Jimmy Buffett. These ships also act as an art work of our country. Often, we invite locals from other nations onboard to visit the attractive ship from other lands. People from Australia and New Zealand thought ours was a nice-looking ship, I remember them saying. Even the Red Chinese sailors we encountered in Jakarta stood and looked admiringly at our ship.

Given, you wouldn’t want to see your ship sunk by an enemy missile. My ship was sunk by a “friendly” missile. It should have bore a happy face :). But I have seen the pictures of my ship several hundred feet down on the Pacific floor off the coast of San Diego. The Agerholm was sunk during missile testing in the early 1980s. More recently I’ve seen a video of the actual attack, which would have likely blown me to smithereens whether I was at battle stations or chow. I don’t really like to watch the video or see the pictures of our ship at the bottom of the ocean.

So it is a great idea to have a stealth ship. We want to outrun, and hide, from the enemy. Perhaps some day they will have an ability to build attractive “warships” again. Until then … well, sorry Bud.





Exploding rail cars nothing new. But some changes in what and inside what they carry.

Today I thought I would keep the commentary to a minimum. Okay, who is the smart ass out there who is whooping and hollering and clapping hands?

Having spent a pretty fair amount of time in both public safety and journalism has afforded me an opportunity to see kind of an amazing phenomenon. That is, when some kind of manmade disaster occurs it always seems to much of the public — and to many in journalism — that this was the first time such and such happens. Fortunately, both sectors have an equal, if not more, stores of long-reaching memories.

If the media was spending less time on the next to the next terror attacks, or story, or story about a story, du jour  then perhaps we would be hearing more on the West Virginia train derailment. That wreck did make quite a boom, which is always good television. Fortunately, no serious injuries or fatalities have been reported, according to the U.S. Coast Guard. That service has been working to containing pollution in a local river from the CSX freight train from North Dakota to Virginia that was carrying Bakken crude oil. The USCG said the train consisted of two locomotives and 109 rail cars — 107 tank cars and two buffer cars.

The rail cars were reportedly of an improved type for carrying crude oil or ethanol.  The Bakken crude is so named for the geological shale formation producing oil in Montana, North Dakota, Saskatchewan and Manitoba. Bakken crude is characterized as a light, sweet crude that is easier to refine than normal crude. But it also has a lower flashpoint so it also is more dangerous than traditional crude.

Oil from the Bakken formation has been present in a number of disasters. Most notable was the 2013 Lac-Mégantic derailment in Quebec. The 72-car North Daktoa to New Brunswick freight train was left unattended and ran away. The train exploded and caught fire resulting in 47 deaths and five missing, presumed dead. Almost half of the downtown area was destroyed.

The Bakken crude is among the oil proposed for shipping to northern portions of the XL Keystone Pipeline, and ultimately to the Gulf Coast.

It has been some 35 years since I was truly involved in planning for dangerous hazardous materials, or HazMat, accidents. I had once seen in the woods a tank car that had been carrying polyvinyl chloride — the substance used in manufacturing PVC pipe –that had experienced what is called a BLEVE, for boiling liquid exploding vapor explosion. To this day I remember the freakish curve one end of the tank car took which basically made the top and bottom of the car into one big piece of metal. This was after flying more than a half-mile from the track and into the woods. I have not since my days in journalism or fire-rescue kept up with tank cars or explosive crude oil. I just knew back in the day as a firefighter we were worried much more about chemical compounds exploding than crude.

So this is the part where I let the readers read all the links I have provided. I just wanted to emphasize, or reemphasize, that rail accidents involving HazMat is nothing new. But the railcars in West Virginia were of the type material that was built to have a high threshold to BLEVE. One wonders about that with the proposed northern part of the Keystone pipeline and the one already built that takes oil from Oklahoma to refineries only 15 or so miles down the highway from where I live.

I just wonder all the while taking what information I have discovered just in the last few hours. I make no conclusions, whether it be about the Bakken Crude flashpoint, the safety of new railcars or the risk of the Keystone pipeline that is already up and running not far at all away from me. So I provide here a few pieces to ponder and let you all draw your own conclusions. Have a nice day.

More reading:

USDOT: http://phmsa.dot.gov/pv_obj_cache/pv_obj_id_8A422ABDC16B72E5F166FE34048CCCBFED3B0500/filename/07_23_14_Operation_Safe_Delivery_Report_final_clean.pdf

Keystone XL Map

BlazeTech: BLEVE


Were you off today for, uh, umm … ?

Q: What day is it?

A: Monday.

Q: No jackass, I mean you are off work today. What holiday is it?

A: Uh, it is Happy Monday Off?

Q: C’mon now.

A: It is Presidents Day.

The first president is honored today with a holiday that includes apostrophes, dashes, another president and a civil rights leader.

The first president is honored today with a holiday that includes apostrophes, dashes, another president and a civil rights leader.

And things just go downhill from there. This pretended conversation ends in an answer, that is partially correct. It all just depends where you are and what you call this Federal and bank holiday.

If you work for the federal government then today is officially known as George Washington’s Birthday. Or as we used to joke as a kid, George Birthington’s Washday. If, however, you are a state employee you may have a different answer and perhaps even use varied punctuation of the holiday name.

Take Texas, for example. Okay, I am a Texan and damned proud of it. Who isn’t? Those who don’t like Texas, perhaps. Those folks might add to take Texas, “Please!” The name of today’s holiday, according to the State of Texas, is Presidents’ Day. Ditto for Presidents’ Day in Hawaii, New Mexico, North Dakota, Oklahoma, Puerto Rico, South Dakota, Vermont, and Washington.

If you are in Alaska, Idaho, Maryland, Nebraska, New Hampshire, Tennessee, West Virginia, and Wyoming, you would be celebrating “President’s Day.” That it is a single president’s day — the apostrophe “s” day. Hmm, I wonder who that president would be?

To further confuse the populace of this great nation, some states figure folks already know whose damned birthday it is. In Michigan, Nevada, New Jersey, and Oregon, the state fathers got rid of that pesky apostrophe altogether — it being “Presidents Day.”

Virginia, the state of the first president’s birth and death, gives him “George Washington Day.”

Like the federal government, the state of Massachusetts celebrates “George Washington’s Birthday.”

The other states share the day with Abraham Lincoln, who was born February 12 and had never been honored with a holiday. That is despite that some states honor Lincoln’s counterpart in the Confederate States of America, Jefferson Davis. Utah skips the apostrophe-s and call the holiday Washington and Lincoln Day. Colorado and Ohio likewise omits the apostrophe and instead uses a dash — Washington-Lincoln Day. Alabama, unsurprisingly holding a grudge, leaves Lincoln out and substitutes Thomas Jefferson for George Washington and Thomas Jefferson Day. Arkansas chooses to link the first president with someone probably not know out of the state who is not a president but, probably surprising to some, was a civil rights activist. George Washington’s Birthday and Daisy Gatson Bates Day honors the “Father of Our Country” with a publisher of a black newspaper who played an important part in the 1957 integration crisis involving efforts to enroll black students in Little Rock’s all white Central High School.

Most of the confusion over the whole Washington and President Day “thing,” notice I use no apostrophe or s with the latter, stems from the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1971. That federal law established 3-day-weekend holidays and moved Washington’s real birthday of February 22 to the third Monday in February. A push to create a holiday honoring presidents dates back to the early 1950s. Some congressional members actually wanted the day to honor all presidents but others believed the day often falling between Washington’s and Lincoln’s actual birthdays would cause problems. Compounding matters President Nixon referred to the holiday as Presidents Day.

Today, the day is mostly a holiday for government employees and those in the financial industry. It likewise is a day of traditional sales, especially in department sales. The average Joe, or Jane or George, doesn’t take the day off. It is just one more facet of government where many of the “Big-R Republicanism” persuasion fail in the argument that the federal government is a bogeyman of free-market captialism or is of a socialistic bent.

Thoughts from inside the noise maker

Yesterday I took that long, noisy trip inside the MRI machine at the Michael E. DeBakey Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Houston. The best I can recall it was the seventh MRI I have had. All but two of those tests were for my problematic cervical spine. I was just reviewing my 60 pages of radiological reports on the “premium” VA website. Not all those pages deal with MRI reports. There are a ton of X-rays of knees, chest and feet. These results did give notice of previous bilateral C-spine problems that were treated by different surgeons on two different occasions and who worked from the back and front of the neck. The latter MRI picture exhibited:

 “Evidence of status post ACDF with bone graft and anterior fusion with endplate and screws from C5 through C7.”

That is to say the results of my last surgery was seen by the radiologist and it showed what is known as a “Anterior Cervical Diskectomy with Fusion (ACDF). That procedure was accomplished by removing a sliver of hip bone and using it to fuse with a titanium strip fastened with an endplate and screws from the fifth to the seventh cervical vertebrae.

The test is pretty simple. You are stuck inside a tube as an electromagnetic machine presents its cacophony of loud, erratic-sounding noises while it slowly pictures different levels of your inner-workings.

YouTube Preview Image

A word of warning: If you experience a mental flameout while listening to all 33 minutes of this video, don’t blame me.

I couldn’t help but wonder, as I imagine most others do as well at some point in time, just why this damn machine is so loud. Never mind that one might picture the different noises, which can sound like anything from a washing machine about to spin out of control to an alarm warning a nuclear meltdown. Rather than try to explain, I found an excellent article from Caltech than lays out the MRI mechanics as well as the why of the loud noises. This column from the American TInnitus Association goes more into the noise aspect and how there are some not-so-loud MRIs out there.

This trip into the tube is to look for possible reasons why I have developed a subset of new pain from my ol’ C-spine. Hopefully,  the radiology report might explain why I also suffer occasional tingling in my right bicep. I also hope that whatever it is causing the problems isn’t something too terribly dramatic. These days I would rather look for drama in a novel or on TV.

Go ahead. Shoot!

Long, long ago, when I was a child, we had communicable diseases. Diseases like mumps, red measles, German or 3-day measles, and chickenpox were like a rite of passage for those of us in grade school. The rite it might have been was certainly no favor given by your neighbor or school mates who sneezed on us. The good news was that once you had these diseases you would likely never have them again. Of course, since ancient-aged people only got shingles, we had no idea that chickenpox would come back to haunt you when you got older in the form of shingles. And this time, you thought chickenpox was uncomfortable? Why shingles hurt like someone put a flaming shingle up your butt. Not that I know that. I have heard that though not particularly in such an analogy. I have seen a flaming shingle however. Many to be quite factual. I was a firefighter you might remember. Or not.

Thankfully, the Department Veterans Affairs decided that once a patient reaches 55 they are eligible for the shingles vaccination. How good are the shots at preventing shingles? About 51 percent, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Can you say, close enough for government work?

Fortunately, I don’t remember the details of all these diseases. I do know that when I was young it seemed that every time I turned around I would have hypodermic needles stuck in my ass or my arm. Vaccinations. Good! I didn’t know what vaccines were until I joined the Navy. I thought at one time the service to my nation would be to take shots. Shots with needles. Shots with with a jet gun. The latter’s use fell out of favor by the World Health Organization because of the potential to transmit disease from one shot with the jet to another. Counting surgeries and yearly vaccinations for flu and pneumonia, I think I can say, I been shot all to s**t!

jet injector

Shoot me! That’s an order, Doc!


So, dating back to the times when I had all the childhood diseases, why weren’t there shots for measles, chickenpox, German measles and mumps? Well, naturally these vaccines came, but they were after my turn in the affliction box. Oh, I did receive the smallpox vaccines with very small, sewing-like, needles as well as the polio vaccine on a sugar cube.

The development of measles vaccinations came in the mid-1960s after scientists came upon flocks of leukemia-free chickens. No, I am not making this up. Millions were vaccinated into the mid-1970s, the time I joined the Navy.

Though I have a cervical spine like a 100-year-old man, I never had the measles (rubeola), mumps, German measles (Rubella) or chickenpox again. I never developed autism either. I did feel puny after a few shots in boot camp and had a fairly upsetting reaction to a yellow fever shot.

But neither am I affluent. Perhaps were I well-off and had a child of vaccination age l would be in that category that is fueling the worst measles epidemic since the CDC declared the disease “eliminated” almost 15 years ago. The “Anti-Vaxxers,” as those who refuse to have their kids immunized have been called, have caught the half-truths and no-truths about fake studies. This includes discredited studies linking immunizations with autism in children. Perhaps the Anti-Vaxxers are also painted with too broad a brush dunked in too much paint. This article in The Daily Beast, for example, charge those who do not vax as “raging narcissists.”

Can’t we all just get along?

No, of course not. We must be polarized to the point of threatening our communities. Just remember there is no “us” in “me.” Say what the fudd? Look, the Anti-Vaxxers are most likely doing what they do for their children. You cannot blame them for that. But these childhood diseases are in some cases lethal. I don’t know how people who care so much for their kids cannot see their kids and their kids’ friends and your friends’ kids and whomever becoming targets for diseases that might just kill someone, including your own children.

There are all kinds of problems out there in this world that you can or cannot believe. Pollution, hydraulic fracturing, global warming, dog fighting, newscasters lying about being shot at, being shot at, and on and on and on. If I change just one mind, perhaps one kid somewhere won’t have to worry about scratching those itchy rashes, running a fever, developing pink eye, and a condition known as “hot dog finger.” Just joking about that last one.

Sleep tight and don’t let the measles bite!


A note or two

It is barbaric to be restricted to a set number of gigs of data. I have to find something better than Verizon. That’s what I have said for years, but hell’s bells. So I am restricted and close to running over and hopefully no more than $15 in overage. Thus, I probably will write little this week. It’s always something …

Speaking of barbaric, I hate to even compare Verizon to ISIS. That is, at least until the day Verizon burns an overdue customer to death. What ISIS did to the Jordanian fighter pilot is something beyond beyond barbaric. Whatever it might be called. One wonders what revenge would even come close for those ignorant s**theads. Perhaps have them continually watch porn movies. They will be surrounded by the alleged “72 virgins” but the perps will only watch, and watch and watch until they completely lose their minds.  Hey King H old buddy, if you read this and think it a viable punishment, perhaps you could give me a $30,000 weekend like your old rotund one friend Gov. Christie.

On second thought maybe madmen of ISIS may spend the rest of their lives on the phone dealing companies like Verizon.

Some thoughts on feet n’ football

Welcome back. I suppose that is a correct expression. I welcome myself back. I am trying very hard to stay off my left foot. That is where I have a toe wound and it is linked to diabetes. The wound became infected and my podiatrist was like “Holy shit!” He didn’t say that. But his expression said it for him.

I have the inclination to ask him why he wanted to study podiatry. One immediately thinks — at least those of us with somewhat perverted minds — “foot fetish.” But feet stank. Yes I know that isn’t the right word but to get a little OG into it. I’m talking “Original Gangster” but some of you, perhaps it is just I, probably think I was recalling that dirty little short ditty sang by Dr. Hook called “Monterrey Jack.” You know:

“You mean OD/No OG/That’s when you OD and you say Oh gee … ”

I tell you what, for the acclaimed writer of children’s books and poems that Shel Silverstein was, he sure wrote some bawdy songs full of sex and drugs and rock and roll, such as this song. The guy was a f***ing genius.

Where was I any way? Oh yeah, my cousin just emailed me about a Facebook post where I explained a little of what’s going on with my left, second toe. You see, it has a wound partially started via diabetes and the adjacent hammer toes I have. Fortunately, X-rays found no infection in the bone. So if I stay off the foot for awhile in order to heal, perhaps I want have to worry about amputation. As it is, I say a better than even chances. I hate thinking about it. Best not to think about it. So keep it clean, unlike what Shelly did when he wasn’t writing enchanting literature like “I’m being swallowed by a boa constrictor, a boa constrictor, a boa constrictor … ” And even PG tunes such as “A Boy Named Sue.” Yes, yes, I know Johnny Cash sang it, or whatever he did with it, but he didn’t write it. Neither did Cash write Kris Kristofferson’s “Sunday Morning Coming Down.” Johnny made other folks’ songs breathe more feeling.

You know something, people tend to overlook the poetry with music of people like Kristofferson, Billy Joe Shaver, Willie Nelson and others of their ilk. They are all Texans, of course. Kristofferson was a Texan by virtue of Army bratdom. I’m just saying.

And also I’m just saying, what’s up with that Marshawn Lynch? These pro football players, some of them, are just trying to be cute. Of course, that wouldn’t be how they would describe it.

Some folks will chalk it up to disadvantaged youths with no father figure at home and 24/7 rap music and drugs and so forth. Do that if you will. But there are people who turn out just fine. I know a couple of former pro football players these days. Then I also was acquainted with a couple of other former pros, both Dallas Cowboys from the early 60s, but I didn’t hold that against them. One was an Episcopal priest and the other married to a Methodist minister. Both nice guys.

Really, if there is blame to go around for people like Lynch acting like buttholes then a share goes to you and me. Well, the literal me not the figurative me. We make these young men big heroes and like to watch them dance in the end zone and make fools of themselves. We buy their crap and like to see them stick it to the man. That’d be the rich ol’ white man.

Over the last few years the Super Bowl has been pretty uninteresting to me. Even the commercials I usually value more than the game itself. So it is likely to be this year. I don’t give a damn who wins. If there was some way both teams could lose, that would be a great outcome in my mind.

Cheating bastards versus arrogant a**holes. Katie Perry “Roars” in between. Come one, come all!

Damn the computers, full something something

Sometimes it pays — not well mind you — to have a backup computer of some short. That is precisely what is in use here. A tablet plucked with a finger or two. My laptop is on its way back to HP for repair. They did promise an extra year on the warranty. I don’t know if that is good or bad. The half-assed keyboard is charging right now, so until it is up end at ‘em it is a one-finger boogie. Want to guess which finger?

I got a walking boot yesterday @ the VA in Houston. It is to take pressure off my infected toe jam football. I mean toe. The infection seems as if it’s healing. That’s good. Infected ulcers on diabetic toes aren’t good. Luckily, the bone is not infected, according to a X-ray. That seems to be a good sign that amputation isn’t on the horizon. Don’t want that. No sir.

So I might churn out a post even less frequently than normal. What ever one might consider normal, other than a city in Illinois.

Peace mi amigo!