Best are sometimes when a writer leaves what he or she has penned to rest so that the piece does not get up and walk away by itself in the dark.
This is one of these times.
If the written words have not disappeared come tomorrow then perhaps the collective thoughts will appear for the world to see. If not, then not.
What? Is he talking about that damned storm again?
Why yes. What else is there to talk about except the weather? I mean, I sure as hell don’t see a future in talking about the Republican National Convention. The giant infomercial. And just to be totally fair, the Democratic convention will be the same only with people wearing less expensive clothes. That is except for the movie stars and entertainers.
So yes, Big Boy, the weather is making my joints hurt. A hurricane as nearby as Isaac certainly does cause my arthritis to -itis. Or is it to arth? See the doctored GOES satellite picture below which showed now Hurricane Isaac about 30 minutes ago. Obviously, one can see the hurricane. At the left, bottom is a little triangle I made to, sort of, represent “The Golden Triangle.” Why didn’t I make it golden? I didn’t think about it. Beside, golden might be difficult to spot with the surrounding color. It’s called The Golden Triangle because the location of the cities Beaumont, Port Arthur and Orange, Texas, all make a triangle when viewed geographically. The golden part had to do with the prosperity from the “oil bidness,” much of which started in this area upon the gushing of Spindletop in January 1901. Either that or it was from what color the skies were from smog until it was eventually cleaned up somewhat.
One of the cloud bands, whatever it might be called, from the storm passed over earlier when I was at work. The wind whipped up and whistled like a 50-foot tea kettle. Guessing from what the local wind readings were, I’d say maybe the sustained winds were maybe 20 mph, whipping up to almost 30 mph. Perhaps the winds weren’t that strong.
Even with those winds blowing by it is hot ‘n humid. Perhaps I need a trademark “Hot ‘N Humid ™ :” It will make you sweat, and how!”
I have been watching The Weather Channel, at least when the sound is off, and when the sound is off and a torso shot is visible of meteorologist Stephanie Abrams. Seriously, I have come to respect Stephanie as a broadcaster. She yaps a lot but she is multi-talented and seems to pretty much know here stuff. The Weather Channel has pulled out all the stops for Isaac. That is, unless it hits somewhere other than Florida, Alabama or Louisiana, and as I have mentioned before, especially New Orleans. If it hits far western Louisiana or far southeastern Texas, no biggie. Nobody lives there. I mean, I do, as does several hundred thousand people.
The storm coming on almost the anniversary of Katrina in 2005 has made-for-TV-drama written all over it. Plus, isn’t it always about New Orleans? Oh well, I’ve gone down that road before. My neighbors, thankfully, didn’t experience the many deaths of Katrina. In some way, though, people often feel a little of themselves die when they suffer losses as they did with their lives uprooted by first Hurricane Rita and later Ike.
Issac will probably bring more suffering to the north when the storm makes its way inland, however far it goes. And such systems can travel a long ways. I hope the wind we have seen today here in Southeast Texas is about the gist of Hurricane Isaac. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was not the case. I wouldn’t mind if it clouded up or even rained a bit. But a bit is something that one only sees a bit of when it comes to tropical cyclones.
So maybe tomorrow I can talk about Mitt Romney’s stretch blue jeans or his cloned-looking kids, or how Veep candidate Paul Ryan bears an eerie resemblance to Eddie Munster. But once again today, this space has been hijacked by Isaac.
This morning I walked into the local VA clinic for my quarterly blood work. It seems like it has been more than quarterly. The “Patient Aligned Care Team” or PACT as the VA calls my “health care staff,” mostly my nurse, has carefully been monitoring my diabetes. I am glad because I sometimes don’t pay as much attention to the disease as I should. To make a long story short, my A1C has dropped two points, to 7.1, which is a good thing. A1C refers to a blood test that measures your average blood glucose control for the past 2 to 3 months.
My health isn’t the real point of my story. While walking into the clinic, I just happened to notice, for no particular reason, that the U.S. flag and the POW-MIA flag below it, were flying high. If you aren’t familiar with the POW-MIA flag then read here. A provision was tacked on the U.S. Defense Authorization Act of 1998 that the POW-MIA flag be flown on certain occasions and that the flag at “VA medical centers to fly the POW/MIA flag on any day on which the flag of the United States is displayed.” The latter occasion would be what we here in Southeast Texas would call “pert near” every day. I don’t know why I looked up at the flag. Perhaps as referred to in our National Anthem, I was just checking to see that “the flag was still there.” Fortunately I didn’t have to look up through the red glare of rockets or bombs bursting in air to gather that particular proof.
I left the clinic for an hour or so after my blood test and went back to the crib. Then it was time to return to the VA, fortunately only a mile or so traversing I-10, to see my nurse. By this time she hopefully had my blood work. I don’t think I looked up at the flag this time.
Leaving the clinic to put some items in my truck, I did notice the flags. This time they were flying at half-staff. (Hint: If the flags are on ships they are referred to as at half-mast.) I had to return inside to wait on my prescription so I could have asked someone why the flags were at half-staff. I wasn’t confident I would find the answer anytime soon so I just waited to return home and look it up on “the internets,” as our jolly “Texan” ex-president George W. “Gee Dub-ya” Bush used to say.
I found out the reason why the flags were halfway up, or down” the flagpole by finding in my search — of all places — the Web site of Gov. Rick “Good Hair” Perry. He’s our governor here in Texas, which is always a cause for celebration because he won’t be president of the United States.
Perry has a “flag status” page on his official governor’s office site which said:
“The President’s order below is lowering flags to half staff immediately through sunset on Friday.
“According to the US Flag Code, no flag may be displayed higher than the US flag. Any State of Texas flag appearing in a display with the US flag at half-staff should also be displayed at half-staff.”
Following was a Proclamation from President Obama:
“BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
A PROCLAMATION
As a mark of respect for the victims of the senseless acts of violence perpetrated on August 5, 2012, in Oak Creek, Wisconsin, by the authority vested in me as President of the United States by the Constitution and the laws of the United States of America, I hereby order that the flag of the United States shall be flown at half-staff at the White House and upon all public buildings and grounds, at all military posts and naval stations, and on all naval vessels of the Federal Government in the District of Columbia and throughout the United States and its Territories and possessions until sunset, August 10, 2012. I also direct that the flag shall be flown at half-staff for the same length of time at all United States embassies, legations, consular offices, and other facilities abroad, including all military facilities and naval vessels and stations.
SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS:
US Flag will be Half-staff until Friday, August 10, 2012 – Sunset
Here is the law that allows such, from 4 u.s.c. § 7 m , in case you don’t believe me and think I am a Commie and fascist thief like some Tea Party members have called me as of late.
I am sure the Prez will be criticized for ordering the flags at half-staff for the Wisconsin shootings. For some folks, nothing the current president does is right. That is, not as right enough for them.
The Secretary of State Hillary Clinton felt she needed to assure the Indian foreign minister that immigrants from that country or those of Indian descent are safe in the U.S. after the Wisconsin shootings of Sikhs.
This is in the wake of the worst mass shooting in U.S. history. That is, so far, at least.
Hey, guns don’t kill people. You know my feelings about guns. But doesn’t there seem to be a need to stop all the killing? Somehow, at least. I’m not saying take away guns, not that it could even happen. Do you perhaps believe the NRA has gone beyond their mission of protecting the Second Amendment? The re-election of President Obama is not going to result in the “confiscation of guns.” There is no way that can happen. Be real. Think about where the funds Wayne LaPierre and his posse are going.
All of this from another wonderful day of vacation going to the VA clinic twice. Tomorrow, up way too early to ride the van to the VA hospital Houston so I can get some new diabetic shoes. I can hardly wait.
Enough of the Supreme Court ruling on the Obama healthcare plan already. I’m tired of all the talking heads, especially all the stupid talking heads, those talking heads who are dumber than dirt. Or maybe they are smart and are just acting dumb. Like Michelle Bachmann, for instance. The Minnesota congresswoman, whose Henny Penny-like assertion after the 5-4 decision, declared the world was coming to an end. Oh just shut up, will you? I know she didn’t say that but it’s close enough for government work.
“There is no basis in the Constitution for the government to have this level of history-making expansion of power,” whose campaign for the GOP presidential nomination failed. “Because what this means, for the first time in the history of the country, Congress can force Americans to purchase any product, any service that Congress wants them to, which determines the price and we are forced to, which is a denial of liberty.
“We will never be the same.”
Soooo melodramatic. Never mind all, if not most, states have varying forms of automobile liability insurance that is mandatory for drivers. The police where I live can instantly tell whether a car has insurance. If not, the police summon a wrecker and tow your car right on off. You will get a fine and have to pay to get your car out. You might even go to jail. I don’t know.
Enough. Enough I say. We will never be the same, she says. Although, it seems we were never all that much the same in the beginning.
Politicians, especially Republican ones, like to say “never before in history has this happened.” That is what is said after they don’t get their way on something. I don’t know if this is a tactic that has been used throughout history. ‘Scuse me because I have not had the time to make an intense study of political rhetoric as I did when I went to college and was required to do so. Yes, by God, they MADE me study political rhetoric. I was even taught about … shhhhh, don’t tell anyone … sex!
Never before in history has anyone ever made college students study political rhetoric and sex. I mean force them! Well, maybe not force them so much on the sex part. Or perhaps it was something taken on for extra credit. And more credit and more extra extra credit. Ad infinitum.
‘Scuse me while I eat my yogurt. It’s okay, it’s Carbmaster. Low carb and low fat. It’s actually “cultured lowfat dairy blend” as opposed to “uncultured lowfat dairy blend.” There is nothing worse than a herd of uncultured cows. That is something else I learned in college taking “Animal Husbandry” in which we were taught how animals can become good husbands. I flunked that one. No, I really neither took the course nor flunked it.
Seriously, I did take something called “The Single Person,” which was a sociology-like course that was taught in the Home Economics discipline. And I really did make an “A” on it. Now, 28 years later, I’m still single.
“A man goes to knowledge as he goes to war : wide-awake, with fear, with respect, and with absolute assurance. Going to knowledge or going to war in any other manner is a mistake, and whoever makes it might never live to regret it.” — “The Teachings of don Juan (Matus)” by Carlos Castaneda.
I would be dishonest if I said I remember that passage after reading Castaneda so many, many years ago. I don’t know whether the old Indian shaman said this after eating peyote or what. The brujo was unmarried too. But I don’t think he had to attend college to attain that status, although it might have helped. It isn’t hard to understand why don Juan wasn’t married. No, he wasn’t gay I don’t think. Now that’s the first thing people believe when you are a man of a certain age and aren’t married. That’s sad and definitely showing a lack of knowledge. That’s okay. Here, eat this peyote button and see if you can turn into a crow and fly away. I can’t say I ever tried peyote. It always kind of sounded rough around the edges.
What I am trying to say here is that you don’t have to attend college to exhibit knowledge. All you have to do is shut up and listen. Learn something and don’t say things like “The end is near” when you are trying to make some political point. I mean, heaven forbid, what if it didn’t happen and you would look like a fool? Why, that’s something that’s never happened in the history of politics!
¿Le voten por mí, por favor? Please? Pretty please, with azúcar on top?
El Presidente and the Guv’nor are courting the Latino as if their lives depended on it. Well, I suppose their political lives depend on it. Not so much heard today about the House panel vote just yesterday on a contempt of Congress charge for Attorney Gen. Eric Holder. “You’re up one day and then you’re down,” as that great Americana poet songster John Prine says. Something the GOPers seem to be finding out on a regular basis. Dems too.
But it is true. That isn’t even my point although I think Rachel Maddow did a spectacular job last night showing the craziness of the right and pretty much the Republican mainstream in office. Apparently the right has been playing this “Fast and Furious” thing up as a big Obama conspiracy to take away the citizenry’s guns. That’s right! Sell guns illegally to take everybody’s .22, .410, Glock and bazooka away. It is amazingly … lame. I am a firm believer in the public’s right to have a gun. I, have, well, had one. I hocked it to a friend and I hope he still has it. It’s a Remington .870 pump shotgun.
Nevertheless, I am at the point where I think Wayne LaPierre and the rest of the NRA leadership are insane. I mean just totally batsroom crazy! Guns don’t kill people, lobbyists kill people!
Actually, I was going to satirize those little “Bio Boxes” that have been so popularly used by newspapers over the past decade or so. Perhaps more than that. I saw this one from the Associated Press on the Washington Post Website about Rob Portman. He is the Ohio Republican senator who is supposedly on the “short list” as a Romney veep pick. I only know a little about him and the bio box referenced really doesn’t do a super job in telling me who the wannabe Romney-Portman ticket No. 2 really is.
I once worked at a small newspaper where we did something similar to a bio box. Monday being a slow news day, especially at what was then an afternoon paper, we shined the spotlight on someone in our fair town worth noting while filling up a big ol’ news hole to boot. We asked questions like what books were they reading, their favorite TV show and the like. We also asked the question if you had a dream dinner, who were four people would you invite and what would you have to eat? That question always struck me as particularly funny for some reason even though I don’t think most people would find it unreasonable to ask.
Since I used to crack jokes about the four people and dinner, a colleague asked me the question “who were four I would invite” for a very flattering column she wrote about me upon my departure at the paper. My answer to the question about the four I would invite was “Myself and a three-way mirror.” Well, she didn’t ask who were the four people I would invite. I guess you had to be there. Anyway, it was sweet what Beth wrote about me and I’ll always appreciate it.
And now without further a do-do, here is my bio box just so you all will get to know me better. Hahahahaha!
NAME: Puddintain. Just kidding, Eight Feet Deep.
AGE: 56, in dog years.
PLACE OF BIRTH: In a hospital, in a galaxy far, far away.
EDUCATION: B.A., Stephen F. Austin State University. Home of “Surfin’ Steve.”
EXPERIENCE: Yes, I am experienced. I also have been experienced. I have experience too.
ON THE NIGHTSTAND: A CPAP mask for my sleep apnea. A secure hotline to the Kremlin.
RECENT MOVIES I’VE SEEN: “Fort Apache.” I stayed up way too late one night last week watching this on TCM.
MUSIC: Dude! Americana-Country: John Prine, Willie Nelson, Jerry Jeff Walker, Hank Williams Sr., Dr. Hook, Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys, Emmylou Harris, Norah Jones. Rock: Rolling Stones, ZZ Top, Allman Brothers, Led Zepplin, Cracker, Coldplay; Blues-Soul: Freddy King, Chuck Willis, Sam and Dave, Al Green, Taj Mahal. Swamp Pop-Zydeco-Cajun, The Boogie Kings, Jivin’ Gene, Jerry LaCroix, Wayne Toups, Marcia Ball and on and on and freakin’ on.
HOBBIES: Hiking, until I developed back problems and now can’t walk for more than 10 minutes. Biking. I need to fix my flat. Camping. Building ships in a bottle that are able to blast their way out and kick some seafaring ass! Just kidding.
FUN FACT: One time, at a party at my house when I was in college, we once burned my couch on a bonfire. But that was not before we spent all day shooting it with all manner of guns. Each time we would shoot, we would yell: “This is what you get for f***ing my wife!” We, thus, learned that if you were having an affair, don’t ever hide behind the couch!
