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Lufkin VA back open and bed bug-less, delivered here in a wave of HST nostalgia

Some good news for veterans who use the Lufkin (Texas) VA clinic just appeared on my mojo wire. Actually, it came by e-mail which sometimes seems to bring mojo of one sort of another. Hunter S. Thompson actually used the term “mojo wire” in his classic “Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72.” My estimation of who knows Hunter S. and who is reading this blog is not imaginable. So Thompson, whose style of work as a writer was called “gonzo journalism,” was probably the first gonzo journalist. All of those young writers — Me? Guilty — whose instinct was to fight the “system” emulated Thompson. In the end, only Hunter S. was Hunter S. His ashes shot from a cannon on a 153-foot tower shaped in a double-thumbed fist holding a peyote button, and all. Forgive me, I was cast adrift on a wave of nostalgia.

Perhaps it isn’t appropriate to make a blog post about a VA clinic reopening with references to a drug-addled maniac. But Hunter was an Air Force veteran, where he began his writing career as a sports reporter. I think that means something or other here.

My point is that a news release from the Department of Veterans Affairs came to me this afternoon announcing the Charles Wilson — of “Charlie Wilson’s War” or “Good Time Charlie Wilson” fame — VA Clinic in Lufkin is reopening after a good debugging.

 ” … a veteran came in to the clinic seeking medical assistance for a rash, the press release said. Clinic staff found bed bugs on his clothing and wheelchair. While the patient refused help and left, the staff immediately took action.”

The clinic reopened today after exterminators “extensively fumigated the building” and found no more bed bugs.

This dispatch raises several questions. One is, why did the patient refuse help? Was it because they planned to fumigate him? A Wikipedia article on bed bugs said the insects were a big problem on U.S. military bases during World War II.

Initially, the problem was solved by fumigation, using Zyklon Discoids that released hydrogen cyanide gas, a rather dangerous procedure. Eventually, DDT was found as a “safe” alternative, said the Wikipedia article.

I am not insinuating that the VA would use the WWII method on the bed bug-ridden vet who sought treatment and touched off warning bells. Some vets just don’t have the patience one needs at times to travel the road to VA assistance. “It’s socialized medicine,” said a VA employee awhile back. And so it is. But it is all many of us veterans have.

A VA microbiologist/control specialist noted that bed bugs have become a problem again due to increased travel and reduced usage in pesticides, said the press release. DDT? Remember running behind the mosquito trucks in the smoke as a kid?

Bed bugs were pretty commonplace when I was a kid and gradually they were gone and now they are back and they are pissed!

Oh well, if you are a veteran and have been bitten by bed bugs or think you have, here is a good article from a reputable source (The Mayo Clinic.) Make mine with mayo on the side … I’m sorry I don’t know what gets into me. And after reading the Mayo article, if you need help, then get it!

 

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An open letter to the rest of America on the Texas secession issue

Dear Fellow Americans,

By now you may have heard of a petition addressed to the White House “We the People” Web site that seeks a peaceful withdrawal of Texas from the United States of America. The site allows petitions that upon reaching the threshold of 25,000 names may be reviewed and given an official response. As of this afternoon almost 82,000 names have been posted.

As a Texan and one who supported President Obama and his re-election I wanted to say publicly and in the best manner a lifelong Texas boy can convey that this whole petition business is a total, 100 percent crock of bullshit.

Those who push the petition, as if it would ever receive any official presidential consideration, have missed the exit for Make-Believe World and are headed for a rapid trip to Delusional City. Why would people who are ticked off due to the election sign a petition to the President? It is his election to begin with that has wound up tightly these people who fancy themselves Texas nationalists. If many thousands of those who put their names on the petition were honest with the rest of us and themselves, their main reason for such a notion is the fact that the President is an African-American. To be exact, he is half black African and half white American, that equals ta-da! an African-American.

The petition “cites blatant abuses” of rights such as the “NDAA, the TSA, etc.” No specific abuses are cited for the condemnation of what I suppose is the National Defense Authorization Act or the Transportation Security Agency. Many of the worries are based on what is heard from the right-wing propaganda machine such as Fox News. Nevertheless, plenty of fanciful rhetoric is spouted on the Texas Nationalist Movement Web site which sees the United States government handing over the keys to the kingdom of Texas and saying “here you go!”

All of this is beyond ludicrous. We will not secede. Even our hare-brained Gov. Good Hair Perry doesn’t advocate such malarkey. He likely only brought it up as a means of snaring some of our nuttier voters for his god-awful presidential campaign. You see where such talk got him.

Face reality, those of you who think breaking off from the United States is a good idea. Any treasonous move to split our country would be met with sharp resistance. As it gradually sinks in that the election is over and Barack Obama won, I imagine such fanciful talking will be much more subdued. I hope so at least.

We Texans are a proud bunch. Yes, I know we can be obnoxious braggarts. But I suspect probably the majority of us also feel equally proud and protective of our country. Yesterday I saw that pride and that love of country reflected in those of us veterans who were graciously served a free meal for Veterans Day by Golden Corral. Vets from Vietnam and World War II as well as peacetime veterans sat by me at my table and not a one, not even the elderly gent from the second World War, failed to stand and salute during the National Anthem.

I also would be willing to bet that most Texans love their state and all of its beauty: From the mountains to the Pineywoods, to the Gulf; to the prairies and to the brush country. But we likewise love the surf of San Diego County, the majestic Rocky Mountains of Colorado, the Gateway Arch of St. Louis, the brass of New Orleans, the multicolored splendor of New England falls and on and on.

I won’t apologize for being a Texan. I will not even apologize for the idiots who believe this great state should break away from this wonderful nation. But I stress that most of us are not like those who are so deluded they probably need some drugs. Come see us in Texas. We’ll have a good time. We’re all Americans here.

Yours truly,

Dick of EFD

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Irresolution 2012 plus Veterans Day freebies

It’s time to elect a president. What can be said that hasn’t already been said a million, billions of times?

I make no bones or joints or ligaments about it, I support another term for President Barack (Yes, Hussein) Obama. No one elected to the most powerful position on Earth will be perfect. The President is not perfect. He has never indicated he is. But Mitt Romney deals in lies. He may be a very nice man. In fact, I would expect him to be as I have found most people of the Latter Day Saints faith to be exceedingly nice and polite. Oh but how that man can spout untruths.

Mitt wants voters to buy a pig in a poke, even those folks who don’t eat pork! He says he has plans although he “cannot” tell us the details until he is elected. I could go on and on. But it has all been said before as I said before and has been said by the Department of Redundancy Department and the Natural Guard. Thanks to Firesign Theater for that final phrase.

On another note, B♭ major I believe, Veterans Day is Monday. Not only is it a paid seven hours for me, there is an abundance of freebies for active duty and veterans. In fact, I might have a choice in where to eat relative free for lunch and dinner that day.

Here is a list.

I’m off to work after a routine trip to the Veterans Affairs Clinic. I will most likely be back here this evening for election returns. Heigh ho!

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Here’s to getting lost

A good morning or afternoon or evening, depending on where it is this may find you. Actually, if it finds you, wouldn’t that technically mean you are lost? I hope you aren’t lost. It’s no fun being lost. It is funny being lost sometimes, though not fun. Well, I suppose it can be fun.

I remember one day in my “ute” — meaning youth — getting lost whilst riding around on South Mississippi country roads with my friend Buffalo Bob. We left the Seabee base in Gulfport early one afternoon and stopped off to pick up a cold six-pack of something or other. I’m not trying to be cute. I mean, it was beer, hell yeah, it was! I just can’t remember what we were drinking back then, maybe it was Miller High Life. Interestingly enough I had a cold can of Miller in my fridge that I used to cook some chicken last night. Coincidence? I think so.

It seems we drove and drove and drove some more that beautiful day discussing all the major matters of the world as we knew it. Sometimes I wish I could have recorded some of those conversations although, on the other hand, maybe not. We eventually came to a crossroads where lo and behold there sat a VFW hall. Now neither Bob nor I were members though we were in the Navy. Bob was a veteran of a foreign war, one of the most foreign at the time, a place called Vietnam. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things though.

We walked in that VFW hall as if Bob was Sgt. Alvin York and I was Audie Murphy. Up to the bar we lumbered and asked for a cold beer. Since no one else was in the bar but the tender, whether or not to serve us because we weren’t members didn’t seem like a major decision to the beer tender. Actually, I think we still had beer in the car. We had stopped to ask for directions because it seemed as if we had been driving all afternoon. We had been, actually.

“So how do you get to Gulfport from here?” I asked the noble bartender.

He gave us instructions that didn’t require copying down, thankfully, because I doubt there was a writing pen closer than 40 miles from us.

“Where you boys from?” the barkeep asked as we paid up and headed toward the door.

“Oh, we’re from Gulfport,” said Buffalo Bob.

In reality, we were both from Texas but sometimes one has to use a little poetic license, which would be helpful if this was a poem, but it isn’t.

Off into the sunset we rode. Actually, it was in the opposite direction of the sunset. But that’s neither here nor there. I always thought that exchange we had in the VFW hall was kind of funny.Maybe you had to be there. And maybe you didn’t.

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A one-day to and from riding the ‘dog’

Top o’ the morning to you! That’s right, morning. Well, speaking of blowing it, I blew it in that I wrote my post on the bus from Beaumont to Houston this morning and forgot to publish it. My memory is shot. Speaking of shot, I am passing by Minute Maid Park in Houston as I write this. Shot being the word because the Houston Astros are about to play its last game as a National League team. Let’s hope the Lastros get a little better next year in its debut season as an American League product, like losses only in the double digits.

Incredible how I made it to this bus. I finished my appointment at the VA in time to take a jam-packed bus to a stop near the Houston Metro Rail line. Then I rode to the Downtown Transit Center, just a couple of blocks from Greyhound. My ticket was for a 6:05 p.m. bus that supposedly gets back to “Beaumont-Vidor” around 8 o’clock. More on Vidor in a moment. But I made it just as the gate locked on the 4 o’clock bus that allegedly arrives at 5:30 p.m. That’s not going to happen with all the stop-n-go with the bus heading toward I-10 at the beginning of rush hour. Hopefully, I will be back a bit earlier than I had planned.

My truck is parked in Rose City. That is a freeway truck stop spot on I-10 just across the Orange County line headed toward Louisiana. That is where the Beaumont Greyhound station is now located, having moved several months ago from its long-time stretch downtown on Magnolia Street. It is considered by Greyhound as the “Beaumont-Vidor” bus station now although its closer to downtown Beaumont than Vidor. I guess downtown “revitalization” is like the weather. People do a lot of talking about it but do nothing. The bus station is but one piece of downtown moved out into the nether lands. First Baptist Church, which takes up a whole city block between Calder and Broadway avenues, is being moved out to the West End. It makes me wonder if the great work the church does for our less fortunate brothers and sisters will be continued once it moves out into the land of milk and honey. I hope so, one never knows when one is going to need that help one day.

Traveling by bus isn’t quite the adventure it was during the days of my youth. I guess that’s a good thing, for me. Why the bus even has electrical outlets and WiFi. And the WiFi works.

Bus stations are certainly fewer and farther in between nowadays. Why I can remember in the old days — time to roll your eyes boys and girls — when every little mud hole and town that was big enough for a city limit sign had a bus station. Of course, there were more bus companies than just Greyhound back then as well. Let’s consider my trip today to the VA hospital in Houston.

The bus route from Beaumont to Houston — a straight shot west on Interstate 10 — now travels to Port Arthur on U.S. 69/96/287 where it stops at some Latino bodega on Gulfway Drive a.k.a. State Highway 87. The bus then picks up Texas 73 to Winnie, which is not named after Winnie the Pooh, or at least I don’t believe that is the case. The route jumps back on I-10 and makes another stop at a convenience store on the north side of the interstate in Baytown before heading downtown to the Houston bus station.

On the bus I’m now riding it is “an express” to Rose City as this puppy’s major destination is New Orleans and, perhaps even Miami, or Cuba.

We just now passed a traffic SNAFU that held us up for awhile. It looks as if three Army trucks were somehow involved. It looked more like a breakdown than an accident. One certainly hopes so. It is already 5:30 and we are at least 30 or so miles from Beaumont. If I make it back by the time I intended to depart Houston I will feel lucky indeed. I really better quit while I’m ahead now. Or as one of my old hippie friends used to say: “Better quit while I’m a head.”