The AffluenzaKid and his Ma were captured in the Mexico Pacific resort town of Puerto Vallarta. For those unfamiliar with the case, I’ll provide a few links. I think these news reports and commentary can do more than I in telling a tale of rich excess, and perhaps more importantly, excessive stupidity.
Hidy hi friends and neighbors. I realize it has been a week or so since I last published but, well, you probably don’t want to hear my lame-ass excuse so I will just leave it at that.
Yesterday, I traveled across the border — of Texas and Louisiana — to Lake Charles for a visit with my brother. He is recuperating in a hospital following a quadruple coronary bypass.
Somewhere between the Texas-Louisiana border and Lake Charles, I spotted the tell-tale white and green SUVs used by the Border Patrol. I think they are called “Customs and Border Protection (CPB)” nowadays although the two trucks sitting in the median of I-10 bore the traditional name of Border Patrol.
I wondered what they were doing there in Southwestern Louisiana less than 30 miles from the Louisiana and Texas border. I see Border Patrol trucks in Beaumont once in awhile but never stalking motorists, at least in this part of the country.
A couple of scenarios about Border Patrol hanging out on I-10 in Southwestern Louisiana, came to mind. Perhaps they had intelligence about some truck coming out of Texas hauling illegals. Perhaps they were making stops of anyone with a brown or olive complexions. I would not be surprised if the agency, part of the Department of Homeland Security, was out there to protect the homeland.
A CPB agent cuffs a Mexican national. Border Patrol photo
I found out by searching the Web that the Border Patrol has a station in Lake Charles because, like Beaumont, it is a port city. I also found that a “port of entry” station is located in Port Arthur that also serves Beaumont. The Border Patrol has a number of stations and checkpoints throughout the South and Southwest. Perhaps the most notorious of those can be found at Sierra Blanca, on I-10.
Since 1974 the Border Patrol or CPB as it is now known has maintained a checkpoint near the small town of Sierra Blanca, which is almost 80 miles southeast of El Paso — as the crow flies. Every car traveling east on I-10 must enter that station. It wasn’t much of a big deal from 1977 to 1984, the times during which I most traveled through the station. Back then, the exercise was much like entering back into the U.S. from Ciudad Juarez to El Paso. You didn’t come to a complete stop, most of the time, and would be on your way if you answered the question — Nationality? — from the border agent as “American.” Sometimes there were random checks. I never went through one there in Sierra Blanca, thankfully. I went through a not-so-random check once while riding as a passenger in my friend’s car returning to El Paso.
My friend, who is Mexican-American, said the Border Patrol kept a database of cars that had been involved in previous incidents such as a stop in which pot had been discovered. I don’t think he had ever been busted at the border, but perhaps a friend was wanted on some charge.
So in El Paso, the big German Shepherd dope dog sniffed all through my friend’s car. I knew with reasonable certainty that no pot that was carried back from Mexico. Brought into Mexico, well … ? The dog was sniffing like crazy at what was a portable bar in the trunk. My friend said it was possible some weed had been stashed in it at one time. The agents couldn’t find anything on the car or on us, so there we went on our merry way.
But that was then and this is now. The Border Patrol these days has dogs that supposedly can sniff out drugs of all kinds — and possibly explosives or gun powder — when a vehicle drives up. The people get caught, more often than not, with small amounts of marijuana. It is quite routine in Sierra Blanca, Texas.
Those with many famous names have been popped and eventually taken to the small courthouse in Sierra Blanca where often-overwhelmed deputies will many times write a ticket for possession for a small amount of pot. Among the celebrities were Willie Nelson and Snoop Dog. This process, and how it reflects on a portion of the drug war gone very badly, is told in this excellent Texas Monthly story written by Al Reinert. The writer, who co-wrote the screenplay for “Apollo 13,” was arrested with a small amount a couple of years ago and tells a very entertaining story though it depicts how millions of taxpayers’ dollars are doled out on small-time pot busts in Sierra Blanca.
The checkpoints are numerous in the Southwest. If you want to transport illegal drugs, you best go through one of the checkpoints without drugs and buy them somewhere like Kansas City and head to wherever it is you are going. Then good luck with all the small towns who all have their own drug dog.
I know the CPB does very important work and are a big part of preventing people like the San Bernardino terrorists from killing more Americans. Perhaps the current homegrown or self-radicalized terrorists we are facing like to get high, although it doesn’t seem like any self-respecting Jihadist would be your average pothead. Still, I hope those two Border Patrol trucks I saw yesterday on I-10 in Louisiana aren’t spending their time trying to bust a person with a small amount of marijuana. There are more serious tasks.
It also seems as if these days with all the danger we supposedly face in the homeland, a bong hit might not be the worst treatment for what ails you.
Well while we are speaking of such a sad state of affairs, there was one brightened light last evening. I speak of the Houston Texans keeping their shirts together long enough to upset the Cincinnati Bengals. The Bengals were one of an unprecedented three NFL teams that were undefeated. Those 9-0 teams are the New England (Cheating Scum) Patriots and the Carolina (Where the hell is that?) Panthers. Texans quarterback Brian Hoyer left the Monday evening game with a possible concussion shortly before the fourth quarter began. The Bengals led by two field goals in those waning seconds of the third period. But then as the fourth quarter began, in the sky, no on the field it’s … not Superman. But close enough for the Texans. Out of seemingly nowhere, came T.J. Yates — who is that? — lobbing a 22-yard touchdown pass at the end of his first drive. The catch by Houston WR DeAndre Hopkins sealed the deal.
So now the Texans share an AFL South lead with Indianapolis. Both sport a very unspectacular 4-5 standing. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Just wait for the jolly old fat man with white hair and beard. I believe he will make it from the South Pole in December, or is it from the North Pole in January? Maybe St. Nicky will deliver the long-suffering Texans’ fans a playoff berth. And perhaps even a Super Bowl. If you are going to wish, you might as well go big.
While he is at it Santa might as well bring some comfort to our Parisian brethren, and serve it with some world peace on the side.
Everywhere, at least in SoCal, people are “skeered.” At least that is what the media reports.
Be afraid. Be very afraid. The destroyer USS Agerholm fires an atomic rocket in 1962.
I live in Beaumont, Texas. It is certainly a blip compared to Los Angeles, although, just a few miles from where I live is the nation’s fourth largest port in tonnage. The Port of Beaumont sits on the Neches River, at the northwestern leg of the Sabine-Neches Waterway. The 79-mile-long ship channel serves one of the largest petrochemical producing areas in the U.S. The port is also a “military outload” port. I saw weird bubble-wrapped helicopters being loaded during the prelude to the Second Iraq War, not to mention a plethora of tanks, fighting vehicles and assorted items most of which were covered in desert camo.
The waterway juts northward to the Port of Orange on the Sabine River. Just south of the confluence of both rivers is the Port of Port Arthur. That confluence is Sabine Lake, which is more of a bay than a lake. At the tip of the water way is Sabine Pass, where a small port sits. Also, two liquefied natural gas or LNG terminals are being built on either side of the lake. One is at Sabine Pass, the other near Cameron, Louisiana.
So, were one to be terrified of what might happen, this could be the place for you. The ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles, fifth and ninth in tonnage respectfully, also makes for a scary place. There are refineries in that area as well and lots of varied military activity to the north and south of Los Angeles. This brings me to the big Pacific scare.
Now maybe people were really terrified. I don’t know. I bet some hipster sitting in his back yard looking over the ocean and tripping his ass off on acid had a real rush. But these type of things happen quite often off the Southern California coast. Take San Clemente Island, not to be confused on San Clemente, the city between San Diego and L.A. and the place where Tricky Dick Nixon used to live.
San Clemente Island sits to the southwest of Santa Catalina Island. The former is officially uninhabited. That is a good thing because the island has been, for years, a Navy missile and shipboard gunfire range. It is probably more of the former these days as Navy ships are more missile oriented these days. The ship I served a year on in the Navy was a World War II-era gun destroyer although it could fire “rocket assisted projectiles.” The armament system was called an ASROC, for Anti submarine rocket. The Agerholm, the ship on which I served, fired the first and I guess only, nuclear-tipped ASROC
The rocket test, called “Swordfish,” was part of a series of nuclear tests in the early 1960s, most of the tests were air drops from B-52s and were in the South Pacific Ocean. Swordfish took place about 400 nautical miles — about 460 miles — west of San Diego. According to information on the test, the 20 kilo-ton device was fired about 1 p.m. local time on May 11, 1962, from the Agerholm. The nuke’s so-called “yield,” the energy unleashed in the bomb, was approximately that of the “Fat Man” bomb detonated over Nagasaki. A raft some 4,300 yards — some 2.5 miles — away was the target for the ASROC.
“The rocket missed its sub-surface zero point by 20 yards and exploded 40 seconds later at a depth of 650 feet in water that was 17,140 feet deep,” according to nuclearweaponarchive.org.
“The spray dome from the detonation was 3000 feet across, and rose to 2100 feet in 16 seconds. The detonation left a huge circle of foam-covered radioactive water. Within two days it had broken up into small patches and spread out for 5 to 8 miles.”
Operation Dominic took place about 15 years before I reported aboard the Agerholm. Was nuclear fallout still on the ship when I boarded her in the former Todd Shipyard facility in Long Beach, Calif? I don’t know.
Now the majority of stories on the test firings from the ballistic submarine USS Kentucky speculate whether the Navy was trying to send some message. I think the answer is “yes.” The very being of the U.S. Navy sends a message, as in the photo above being an extreme example. Some believe the people should be forewarned of such tests. The Navy says “Sorry, we can’t tell you when this missile will launch, top secret.” I would bet if something like the picture above appeared off the coast of L.A., people really would freak-out. And they’d have every right to be scared.
I conclude with this tip: Assume the Navy will test fire a missile in the water — somewhere!
I woke up this morning and found no military forces standing at port arms with their automatic weapons at the ready.
When I turned on the TV, the damned thing didn’t work and I remember my remote falling from the table before I went to bed. So I had to spend about 30 minutes trying to reprogram the cheap-ass RCA remote. But when I did get the TV to work I tuned into CNN. And on was nothing more than the same old “All-Donald all the time.”
What I am trying to say is, the military didn’t take over the U.S. and giant billboards of President For Life Barack Hussein Obama did not appear. At least, they didn’t show up any place that I know.
Jade Helm 15 is over. And all those nutcases who got their knickers tied up in a knot were left with nothing more than a whole lot of egg on their face. All those of you whose fret over a revocation of the Second Amendment have no reason for concern. That is until the next imagined threat comes about.
Now I have some good friends in the Lone Star State, the place I have called home for almost 56 of my nearly 60 years. Some are gun nuts. Others are just plain nuts. That’s one reason they’re my friends. The best I can recall, all my exes live in Texas, kind of the way George Strait sang itexcept I’ve only been to the airport in Memphis. I had scant time to hang my hat in Tennessee.
I was reading today about this guy who lives down the road from me in Nederland, Texas. He heads the Texas Nationalist Movement. I see the fellow who leads it, Daniel Miller, around town every now and then. I’ve never talked with him. But Miller and his group are pushing a petition drive that would put Texas secession on the Republican Primary ballot. Yessir. The Texas Republican Party is less than thrilled, reports the Texas Tribune. I couldn’t ever imagine why.
If such a ballot initiative could only come with a (very short) federal government shutdown, I doubt we would see a GOP president for, well, maybe ever. Of course, I’m not wanting a shutdown. I definitely do not want a shutdown, please understand. I’m just saying that the Republican Party has a lot of dynamics these days that make it like death sucking on a Lifesaver.
But that’s Texas. That is all Texas. We are tall, and not so tall, Texans. We wear a 10-gallon hat. Mostly though, I wear a ball cap.
