Thursday, July 24, 2008

Mexicans In My Trees!


Nobody Wins: Yesterday, I had gathered my car keys, turned on my TV, (Does that fool anyone anymore?) and I was headed out the door when I glanced out my back door patio window, only to see…

Mexicans in my trees.

Yep. Three Mexicans in my trees, and one walking around the ground.

Not an everyday occurrence here in Missouri.

My first thought was, “they must have hopped the fence” because we have locks on our gates. The fence is over seven-feet high. Not an easy thing to do.

But as I watched a skinny little monkey race up to the top of my young oak tree, I thought to myself, “Wow---he’s good. Really good.” In fact, he must have been climbing trees in the jungles of Brazil before he was two. He looked about 35 years of age, and maybe weighed all of 105 pounds. He got up to the top of that tree quicker than it took my amazed brain to register any kind of intelligent action. An American man could not have done that…if only for the fact that most of them are too big.

Obviously they were hired to “cut” my trees away from the power lines. But gee…they could have at least knocked on my door.

They don’t do that in America anymore. They don’t need your permission to cut your trees. They don’t need your permission to climb over your fence. They don’t need your permission to damage other plants in the yard…they work for AmerenUE.

Mexicans once again doing jobs Americans ‘won’t’ do.

Now, a woman’s house is her castle, and those trees, as far as I’m concerned are mine. When it comes to trees, (and birds, dogs, and young children) I have very strong feelings. Touch my trees---you might find yourself dealing with a mild version of Medusa on steroids.

And if you butcher my trees (one was damaged so badly, I might have to cut it down) without asking me my permission, you will have a raging, crying, sobbing, emotional wreck on your hands for at least two to four hours.

At least with men in my family I’ve always had a say. I had no say in this. I have been conditioned to believe by letters from the electric company, and local news broadcasts---trees needed to be trimmed for the good of the community.

Too bad they let this wonderful concern for “the community” sit dormant for over twenty years.
Twenty-five years ago, the nice men from the electric company would come every year. They would ring your doorbell, if you were not home, they would come back. They not only would ask your permission to trim the trees, but they would tell you how long it would take. Then one year, they just stopped coming, due to “budget” concerns.

Our beautiful forest of trees has grown very big---right along with the electric bills.

So there they were---Mexicans literally demolishing my trees, even lower limbs whose only threat was to my dogs. I was getting angry. I had gone out and tried to be nice to the men…even offered them some water. I asked them if they spoke English… “No.” they said.

And yet, outside my fence, they all spoke it…broken, but they spoke it.

Why did they lie to me? Could the fact that I had a big American flag flying in my front yard have anything to do with it?

The whole thing was…not good. Utility men can come onto your property and do whatever they like. You will be ostracized if you protest. How long before “men” come inside your house to fix your “water” intake for the good of the “community”?

Okay, I really feel sorry for the Mexicans whose own country has let them down. The world is filled with incredible hardships. Nevertheless, our city just in the last decade has lost all its major jobs. There are plenty of local citizens who would have loved to get this work.

And make no mistake---while illegal immigrants can do the job, an American man would talk to you, and would respect your property. Your trees would not end up looking like something out of “Nightmare on Elm Street.”

It’s clear a lot of these Mexicans, although hard workers, could care less about us, our property, or our love for America. It’s not their country.

This whole issue is getting ugly. Today my trees---tomorrow…what?

Nobody wins here---nobody.

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Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Nobody Cares About Silence


Nobody Cares: Wow...this doesn't happen often. I actually have nothing to say today....except Obama sounds just like President George Bush...he wants to use big carrots and big sticks to control Iran? (Does that count as nothing?) He's repeating all the stuff that President Bush has been saying all along.
I guess he finally got the hint that they WANT to kill us. Gee....
So, the big carrots are what? The usual American Presidents giving dictators billions of dollars in payoffs?
And what's the big stick? Is he going to take along his wife on his next trip to Iran? This stick and carrot talk is making me hungry.
And today our President said that Wall Street just got drunk? What does that mean? Did Ted Kennedy take a wrong turn trying to find the Senate?
I say for the moment, we enjoy the finer things in life...like this cute baby panda, and the fact that someone somewhere has finally invented the perfect gift for dad.
A electonic, remote-controlled golf caddy. I mean, how cool is this? I bet this even has a bar, hidden bags of potato chips, extra golf balls and the stock market updates.
Like I said, I have nothing to say today....but tomorrow is another day!

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Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Savages Attack Savage


Nobody’s Perfect: Michael Savage has done it again---flobbing another one of his infamous ginormous brain rants. The subject this time is autism; Michael’s opinion is that most of the kids that are misdiagnosed with autism are not autistic at all. Some have extremely high IQ’s. He’s absolutely, positively, overwhelming right of course.

But----

Sometimes he inserts not only his foot into his mouth, but half his body. Michael in his best Archie Bunker way, said; “In 99 percent of the cases, it’s a brat who hasn’t been told to cut the act out.”

Don’t tell any parent their kid is a “brat.”

Once again, the lynching of a conservative is fair game. Just make one little mistake and your dead meat.

Savage, as all his listeners know, says just exactly what he thinks, and lots of times, it comes off as being cruel and crash. So what are we going to do? Sue him for being human? To his fans Savage represents the working stiff. Michael wails brilliantly for the rest of us at the everyday insanity that we seem to have no control over.

He relives our proverbial built-up, “I’m going to blow” pressure cooker.

And by the way---talking for over three hours a night, trying to be entertaining, informative, and also creative is not exactly easy. Very few people in the world can do it. Michael’s listeners know that he is just about as compassionate a man as you could find. Half the time he talks about his dog.

Come on. Every single person on this planet has said things that were meant another way, and taken as great offense. Most of the time it’s due to fatigue and stress, and those of us who listen to Savage regularly know that Michael has big guns coming after him right now.

Even geniuses get tongue-tied.

But Savage is right. Too many of our kids are being drugged, by governmental brats, and it’s criminal. From Zoloft, to Prozac, to Ritalin---to the latest zombie concoction: they all produce the same result. They simply numb your cerebral cortex and you just stop thinking. And to put small children on this stuff, whose brains are still being formed, is nothing short of insidiously criminal.

We don’t know enough about the brain. I mean, how do you explain the incredible things that savants do?

I once lived with an “autistic” child. He was seven-years old, and had a brilliant mind. He could beat me at any game. He was far ahead in his studies, a grade above his class.
They dubbed him “autistic” because he was shy of people.

And to his mother’s great joy he was getting an excellent education, better than the other kids because “special education” teachers have to make sure the "special" child learns, or they are held accountable.

Got that? Your child is autistic. He will get a better education than the rest of the kids. And the school system gets to hire more teachers, and then there are more dues collected…it’s a win/win situation for the NEA. More teachers, more “autistic” kids, more governmental money to be doled out, more taxes collected, and more control over future bobble-heads.

And she didn’t have to pay for the drugs, the school did. Once again--- pharmaceutical companies working hand in hand with our loving government to save the world!

Now, “Bobby’s” (fake name) mom was single, and stressed when she got home from work. ANd when “Bobby” was drugged, he was very quiet. When not drugged, his energy knew no bounds. He was funny, engaging, and most of all….gloriously all boy…in other words--exhausting.

And yet, sometimes when Bobby was watching TV you could call his name forever and he would ignore you. I never could figure out if he did it because he was slightly autistic, drugged, and deep in concentration…

Or, was it something else?

Thomas Edison (another ‘autistic’ child) once admitted that he used his deaf problem to his great advantage. When he didn’t want to listen, he’d stare straight ahead and pretend he didn’t hear the person talking to him.

It worked every time.

So--Michael Savage is telling us that a lot of big brats are drugging our kids. God bless him.

And as bad as our schools are, maybe we should all claim that all American children are autistic, and demand the schools keep all drugs, especially federally-mandated prescriptions, out.

If the teachers can’t handle it, put them on Prozac.

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Monday, July 21, 2008

Al Gore's Big Fish Story



Nobody Knows: Next time you listen to Al Gore say that the planet as we know it is dying, and all the fish in the sea will be gone within our lifetime...

Remember these guys.

Especially the one on the right whose smile says it all...as if he is thinking, "Al Gore, get a life."

Global warming, I would say, has been very good to this...monster.

  • Gas money to favorite fishing hole--$300
  • New fishing poles--$500
  • Beer and sandwiches---$100
  • Making your buddy hold the heavy end of the 1,000 pound catfish while you hole the tail, and then post the picture on the internet for the world to see---priceless.

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Sunday, July 20, 2008

Nobody's Absurdities, No. 60--Talkin' Loud, and Saying Nothin'


Greed---that seems to be the subject on everyone’s mind right now. After watching Secretary Paulson on every channel last weekend with his puppy-dog look of, “I’m sorry, but things are bad right now folks--- not our fault,” I was thinking about that old James Brown song…

“You can’t tell me, how to run my life down.
And you can’t tell, how to keep my business sound"
And you can’t tell me, what I’m doing wrong
When you keep jivin’ and singing that--- same old funny song
Like a dull knife, Jack--- you just ain’t cuttin’ (do do do dod da do)
You just talking loud---and saying nothin’
Just sayin’ nothin’(do do do do) just sayin’ nothin”

Hit me! Ah….Oh!”

Sorry, I really love that song. And it’s so true. All our politicians are just talking loud, and saying absolutely nothing. The record is stuck. Most of us are ready to smack the needle hard. (Okay, some of you don’t remember record players.)

Let me refrain that. What we need is a real James Brown smackdown.

Hit me! (do do do do do)

“Clean up your bag…don’t worry bout mine.
My bag’s together, and doing fine.”

James was right here. Most Americans go to work, manage somehow to pay their bills, raise their kids, go to church…and we don’t complain.

They don’t really let us.

But if you or I ran into trouble---if we ripped people off like the recent scandals of Fannie Mae, or Freddie the Mac---we’d be in jail.

Talk about greed. We have no shortage of “greedy, greedy” men (and women) ruling this country right now

Machiavelli wouldn’t have made it out of Guantanamo.

Take Obama for instance. Does he have to go around the world at our expense at the moment…taking along half the state of Vermont?

I remember recently reading that the first thing they teach you in journalism is to answer the questions: What? Where? How? When? and who done it?….(just kidding) Far more importantly, the very first question should be in any story is: Where does the money go? (follow it.) Second question :Who is going to benefit from ‘whatever?’

Start with greed. And there’s nothing wrong with greed itself, Adam Smith pointed that out long ago---it’s the crime of hurting others with your out-of-control cravings.

For instance: Who benefits from the news that Hillary Clinton owes $25 million dollars? She could have kept this news to herself, quite frankly, but she wants us to pay it.

And right on top of the greed absurdities list is the Pope. It was certainly cheery news that the Pope got such a big turnout for his World Youth Day in Australia. But is it not the very height of hypocrisy for the Pope to be lecturing young adults, most of whom probably don’t even have a bank account, that they should shed greed and spurn materialism?

This from a man who lives in the biggest house in the world, filled with so much gold and rare treasures, paintings, books, and sculptures worth enough to probably feed the globe for an entire century if sold?

So, why isn’t he preaching to world politicians instead of to young kids whose future already looks very bleak, monetarily speaking?

Like a dull knife jack, you just ain’t cuttin”

Greed is the reason why only a few miles from me, just recently, it was reported in our local paper, that radioactive uranium from the Manhattan Project was dumped right after the war.

So, how long has it maybe been contaminating our groundwater? The citizens want it moved immediately, but the EPA says it’s just cheaper to put a cap on it.

Meanwhile, my father died at 63 of a cancerous brain tumor. My best friend from high school, died at 43 of a brain tumor, even one of my dogs died at three of a cancerous brain tumor.

“I’m a greedy man.” (do do do do)

The other day I was reading about how Prince Charles, was so “green” that he pays (i.e. the British working class pays) for a special fuel grown from very expensive grapes to run his Aston Martin.

And Al Gore graciously gives us just ten years, to put solar panels in all homes, and get off oil altogether.

When asked how are we going to afford this? He admitted we needed over 5 trillion just to get started, but after the initial startup, the prices should go down.

Just like the gas prices there, Al? (do do do do )

“Like a dull knife Jack, you just ain’t cutting…

You just talking loud, and sayin’ nothin’…just sayin’ nothin’…just sayin’ nothin’…”

"Somebody--- hit me. Ow!"

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