VA: CYA?AOK!CUL8TR

Mindboggling is a word which comes to mind when I realized I had missed an important story pertaining to my and many other veterans’ favorite agency, the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs a.k.a. the Veterans Administration a.k.a. the VA.

The story relates to the VA psychologist at the Olin E. Teague Veterans Center in Temple, Texas, who sent an e-mail to her colleagues telling them to stop diagnosing veterans with post traumatic stress disorder or PTSD.

I say this is mindboggling because I once covered the VA as a newspaper reporter and if I do say so myself, covered them like stink on a June bug. This was especially true for goings-on at the Temple VA hospital, which has had its share of black eyes. But the truth is that since I no longer work this or any other particular beats, or as a reporter, I let a few things slip by although it is just as well in cases such as this one because I am just as miffed now as I would have been when this story first surfaced.

Actually, and sadly, nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to ridiculous, unethical, and/or immoral acts which come from the VA. And when I say that I don’t mean to say that all VA employees are bad or mean or total ass****s although a few are. The problem is economics and the system itself.

In the economic realm the VA suffers from the root of all commerce: supply and demand. The system error is that our Congress has seen fit in recent years to shortchange veterans by continually underfunding the VA. It is true you will see the department get a few million bucks more here and there during some years. But it never seems to be enough. Even when the VA tries in principal to do right they seem to screw it up such as their CARES initiative. Like the military base closing apparatus, CARES shut down and proposed closing VA facilities that weren’t being used. The principal was sound in theory but in practice turned out to be a disaster both politically and functionally. I’m still shaking my head over that and I attended more CARES hearings and commission meetings than I ever wanted to in a lifetime.

Of course, like a good bureaucrat, I see that Dr. Perez, whom I may have met or may not have met at Temple, employed the standard defense for any bone-headed move which is to cover one’s a**. That is good for her. She will probably get a raise or an elevated position somewhere else now especially since the Peter Principle seems to be in rich supply when it comes to the Temple VA hospital.

But members of Congress, yes that Congress, may leave their rear ends exposed if they let the VA health care system fall apart. You can only pull a rubber band so far before it comes back and smacks you. The sensible thing to do is, at the very least, begin talking about mandatory funding for the VA as opposed to discretionary spending. In other words, instead of approving an annual budget for VA health care the funding could be appropriated in advance and thus be unencumbered by a variety of obstructions so that veterans can finally get the health care they deserve.

I must remind you and myself, however, that this is Congress we are talking about. Yes, that Congress. And nothing is likely to happen until throngs of people start making loud noises about whatever the subject. Right now people are making a lot of noise about high gasoline prices. Tomorrow who knows. (Probably gasoline prices.) So I don’t suppose mandatory funding will be anytime in the near future.

Cows, UFOs and barrels full o' monkey fun

“Woke up this morning with light in my eyes/And then realized it was still dark outside/It was a light coming down from the sky/I don’t know who or why

Must be those strangers that come every night/Those saucer shaped lights put people uptight/Leave blue green footprints that glow in the dark/I hope they get home all right.” “Mr. Spaceman” — The Byrds

Watching the History Channel’s “UFO Hunters: Invasion Texas 2008” this morning I suddenly became more skeptical about the military’s claim that the UFO sightings around Stephenville, Texas, were the result of fighter jet training in that area.

Given that explanations for all types of sightings of weird phenomena in years past were the result of swamp gas makes my whimsical conjecture that the cows of Erath County may have been the cause of the UFO sightings not be such a silly musing. After all, methane is a major component of swamp gas and we all know a little at least about the link between cows and methane. So, with maybe 50,000-or-so cows in Erath County — the state of Texas milk jug — one might guess a little methane could be found.

But could all the conditions be right to make what methane is located there put on a spectacular light show? Are our fighter jets practicing around rural North Central Texas? Is it time for us to ask Mr. Spaceman to take me along (I won’t do anything wrong)? Or could the sightings have roots in all of the above?

Don’t ask me. I just work here.

Question of the day

A promo for Jack FM in Houston earlier this morning said listening to the station was more fun than a barrel of monkeys. This explanation by Mr. Funk, that funky cat of the funky “Funk and Wagnalls dictionary, is that if one monkey unleashes a ton o’ fun then a whole barrel must level the fun walls and allow the fun to spill into the valley of fun. In other words, its a bit of hyperbole to say the least.

I would think one monkey stuck in a barrel would probably get a bit ticked off and opening a whole barrel might just open up a barrel of monkey whup ass. I can’t say that is a fact because I have never nor would I ever place a monkey in a barrel. I’m just saying …

Scammers in uniform: Spam du jour

Don’t let a slight imposition such as being in the military stand in the way of a good scam. If I trusted scamming spammers who prey upon the unsuspecting e-mail of the world, I might think that upon seeing a couple of messages in my Hotmail “Junk” box. First there is one from an alleged “Sgt. Ronald Riling” who sent this beaut:

“Attention,

My name is Sgt.Ronald Riling; I’m a US soldier, serving in the military with the Third (3rd) infantry Division in Iraq (US Coalition Force). I and my superior after going on a rampage on Saddam Hussein palace in Baghdad discovered a substantial amount of money. You may need to check out the following BBC website to confirm more of our discovery which was made known to the government, but this particular one is a top secret:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/2988455.stm

Oh yes, I bet it’s a top secret. I bet it is so secret it doesn’t exist. Please!

The next is from Maj. Tanko, whom I suppose is a cousin to Capt. Hummero and Lt. Howitzero and a step-brother of Sgt. Machineguno. Okay, I have no idea what African nation Maj. Tanko is from but he is indeed a very lucky soldier to have found $20,500,000 … “abandoned sum in my office which was left by the last officer who was on sit (sic?) but he died after a brief illness before me suceeding (sic) him as the new appointed unit chairman.”

Hmm. He was on “sit” but died after a brief illness? Makes perfect sense to me. What is really suspicious is his request:

“I am looking for a honest person in a stable country with a good economy where this fund will be transfered (sic) into.”

He is looking for an honest person. Okay, I’m pretty honest. In a stable country. I suppose the US of A is stable enough. With a good economy. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Sorry, you got the wrong place Major Tanko. Try Zimbabwe.

A nice, rainy birthday

Another stormy afternoon looms over the Upper Texas Coast. But as my Dad used to say: “Let it rain!”

Only recently have I begun to fully appreciate the sentiment my father espoused so often so many years, or now so it seems, ago. I have always liked the rain. I missed rain when I lived in places which had much less rain than with which I was most comfortable. But the fact is, life goes on and watching it from the porch while it rains can be just as great as viewing life from a mountain top or beach on a cloudless day.

Had my Dad not have died 24 years ago he would have been 93 years old today, and had he been where I am this day he probably would be drinking a cold beer and exclaiming: “Let it rain!”

Happy Juneteenth plus one, Pops.