A Revolution To Acquire Matches Suddenly Seems Ill Advised In The Bright Light Of The House Burning Down...

Four commonly heard words of wisdom...

...and warning.

Be careful what you wish for.

Some say "ask" as opposed to "wish" but a wish is an ask and an ask is a wish, so potato, patahto.

There's one more version of that baleful bromide worthy of mention, though.

Actually, more of an upgrade, of sorts.

I'll boot it up for you in just a few.

Mueller Report done and done.

Officially, no collusion.   

Without a doubt, reasonable or otherwise. For sure. For certain.

For always.

For the moment.

Cable news, talk radio and various and sundry water coolers are going to be clogged like the 405 at rush hour for the next few days/weeks with the yammer yammer, yada yada, blah blah blah that has pretty much sent reasonable, insightful and limited discussion into the retirement home in recent years.

So there will be none of that packing peanut prattling here.

What we got here....is concise to communicate.

Once again, Uncle Sam has taken a knee to the nuts.

Every, and all of, anybody who stood in opposition to Donald Trump two seconds before the release of Mueller's report, stood firm, fast, probably even firmer two seconds after the release of Mueller's report.

Every, and all of, anybody who loves them some Donald will let their love flow / like a mountain stream / as their love grows / with the grandest of dreams.

The dream, of course, being the mistaken, but kinda sad, almost in a Hallmark Channel movie kind of way, that now that Trump has been visited by the archangels Repudiation, Exoneration and Validation, their hero will finally wave his magic Donnywand and, presto!

The wall, baby.

The magic elixir that will cure the nation's ills. Win the battle for truth, justice and the American way. Keep them damn foreigners out of our great country, keep the neighbor's kids in their own damn yards and keep us irrefutably, irrevocably and indestructibly on the sunny side of life.

Okay, first, as they say in the scuba diving business, don't hold your breath.

As ramped up as the faithful are going to be about the sure to be egregiously exaggerated "victory" here, the opposition is going to ramp up that much and then some in their determination to bring this little quirky chapter of history called a "presidency" to a conclusion as soon as humanly possible.

Or sooner.

Or inhumanly.

Whatever it takes.

Ain't no mountain high enough.

You know. Like that.

Cue Billy Joel.

And so it goes.

Here, meanwhile, is where the plot twists in a way that even Chubby Checker couldn't fathom that magical June, July and August what now seems like so long ago.

Give a mouse a cookie. It'll expect a glass of milk.

Give a narcissist even a hint of encouragement. And he, or she, will be emboldened in a way that makes tenfold seem like no fold at all.

Doesn't matter that there are still ongoing Trump investigations in places where most people ain't even got places.

Doesn't matter that the hatred this guy brings on himself is of an unprecedented, even historic, intensity that, literally, millions of people want to see him go down....just to see him go down.

Old saying in the sales business.

Anything but a no....is still a yes.

In the world where Donald Trump lives, anything but officially being pronounced dead by a qualified physician....is a free pass, blank check to live to fight another day.

And in the world where Donald Trump lives, fighting another day means "another day to do what I want, say what I want, be who I want" while continuing to be loved, adored, worshiped, praised, exalted and celebrated.

Like a modern day Caesar.

Yeah, I know. But, frankly, the whole Hitler metaphor has gotten tiring.

When it comes to maniacal despots with delusions of grandeur and a psychotic predisposition to literally exterminate his opposition, Hitler is, at least in terms of clinical definition, one of the top two or three in recorded history.

Donald wouldn't even make it into a first bracket.

All of that notwithstanding, though, Mr. Complete EXONERATION (yeah, that's gonna be capitalized a lot in the ol tweets for a while, so we may as well get used to it) Mr. Complete X-O is going to double clutch, drop into third and floor that motherfucker.

Right into history. Or off a cliff.

Or, very possibly, right into a wall.

Which, in the category of just desserts, is just desserts for the millions who took the bait, bit the hook, bought the scam, stocked up on the Kool Aid.

Time to re-boot that cautionary we contemplated at the beginning of our time together today.

Presenting Caveat 2.0

Be careful who you vote for.

Because you just might get your wish. Or what you ask for.

Or what you deserve.

For putting a guy behind the wheel who might drive you all right into history.

Or off a cliff.

Or, very probably....

...right into a wall.

It All Really Boils Down To Un and Only Un Thing

Never had much patience when it came to being educated.

And, by that, I don't mean the state in which one finds oneself after having achieved a certain level of education.

I'm talking about the process of actually getting the education in the first place.

Not being educated. Being educated.

Not that I'm ungrateful, in any way, for whatever education I have acquired. If it weren't for education, for example, I wouldn't have known how to put those last couple of words in italics, there. Let alone even known that they needed to be put in italics in the first place.

I imagine my resistance to the aforementioned process was rooted in a zesty recipe of assorted ingredients, a little dollop of ADD, a splash of Asperger's and maybe even a little prefrontal paranoia that "education", at least in the elementary/secondary school paradigm of the 1950's and 60's was actually just "indoctrination" cleverly camouflaged by pictures of Washington and Lincoln above the blackboards and that All-American symbol of red, white and blue, the wobbly green Jello square unappetizingly quivering on the cafeteria tray two random days out of five each week.

Again, education remains both curse and blessing. Blessed to be informed enough to know the difference between the words "education" (the process of receiving or giving systemic instruction) and "indoctrination" (the process of teaching a person or group to accept a set of beliefs uncritically)

Put in a more easily understood by a large portion of the current population way....education is what you get when you attend school.....indoctrination is what you get when you attend love, praise and worship ceremonies transparently disguised as "campaign rallies".

Go Polar Bears. Make America Great Again.

"waffer thin" line.

The fidgety nature of my lack of primary school patience was, in hindsight truth be told, a lot about nothing more, or less, than simply that.

A lack of patience.

One thing we all learn in school. A lot of what we learn in school consists of a lot of things that we just don't really care about.

And very likely never will care about.

Like algebra.

This May will mark 50 years since I graduated from high school. That's 18, 250 days.

And not one of those days has ever been influenced, impacted or affected in any essential way by any knowledge I might have retained over those 18, 250 of...algebra.

It's not like I was on a career path to rocket science or mechanical engineering or any of the other noble slide rule occupations that algebra would play a critical part in.

I was always on a vocabulary based trajectory. English teachers nourished me. So much so that, 18, 250 days later, I'm fully aware that what I should have said a moment ago was "slide rule occupations in which algebra would play a critical part."

Then, there's that whole "square is a rectangle, rectangle is not a square" thing.

Pretty sure. Memory serves.

Again. Not essential life information.

All of this said, what I have retained, and used, for many, if not all, of those 18,250 is a little two letter dealio that has made, and still makes, a considerable impact on this life.

It comes up a lot.

And, no, while "it" is a little two letter dealio, "it" is not the two letter dealio I'm talking about.

Make that not the two letter dealio about which I'm talking.

What it, as opposed to "it", is, revealed and explained shortly.

Here's a quick, off the cuff, couple of three things heard said pretty often these days.

"How you doin?"

"Hot enough for ya?"

"So, you're in favor of welfare and people who just lay their lazy asses around taking money they haven't earned?"

Well, first things first.

Doin' fine, thanks for askin'.

Not all that hot just yet, actually, but, of course, if you don't like the weather...just wait ten minutes.

Actually, no, I'm not in favor of welfare. And, actually, yes, I am.

Extremism, as in extreme thinking to specifically one side or the other of the sociological and/or political scale has been around since the wacky adventures of those apple chompin' zanies, Adam and Eve.

Or, as contemporary social revolutionaries would say, Eve and Adam.

Somewhere along the way, though, we entered, and are now fully entrenched in, a period that could arguably be called "The Age of Fuck Me? No, Fuck You".

Polarization. It's not just a trip to the top or bottom of the world anymore.

And besides the predictable, standard issue problems that come with such radical positioning, there's one pretty basic twelve foot high speed bump on the freeway of love, peace and come on , people now, smile on your brother.

We don't really get anywhere.

It's not rocket surgery. It's simple physics.

Yanking a steering wheel all the way to the left or all the way to the right accomplishes nothing more than driving us around in circles.

And the sudden, violent yanking away from one direction to another can very quickly send us into a ditch.

Or over the cliff.

Which brings us around to a word that my ability to hang in there for, at least, long enough to get the basics of a basic education added to my vocabulary.

Moderate.  To make or become less extreme, intense, rigorous or violent.

That old fashioned, once upon a time, today, no, not so much, we meet in the middle.

Drive straight down the road. Little bit me, little bit you.

Come on, people now, smile on your brother.

But let's put a pin in the peace train and get back to welfare.

And that little two letter dealio.

A particular little two letter dealio that, in this case, needs to be uninstalled.

Un.

Unclear? Unsure? Understandable.

Let me untangle it for you.

By talking about, for example....oh, here you go.....welfare.

Remember that I said I was not in favor of welfare...and, yes I was?  

I wasn't unintentionally jerking you around. Or even intentionally.

I think there's nothing nobler, more American, hey, let's push the envelope and say, more Christian than to lend a helping hand or leg up to someone in need.

Faithful and wise stewards. Brother's keeper. And all that jazz.

It's not the one for another that clogs the pipe.

It's the un.

Unconditional.

Not subject to any conditions.

Whatever else there may, or may not, be in this country, in this world, in this life at any given time but, most especially, at this time in the time line.....

...there is simply too much un.      

And a lot of that simply too much un is that particular un attached to that word 'conditional".

Which turns it into 'unconditional'.

A lot of our societal ills could be diagnosed, treated and cured with the surgical removal of that little two word tumor 'un' from that word 'unconditional'.

Which turns it into 'conditional'.

Welfare. Hand outs. Free money. Ain't gotta do nuthin' but cash the checks and upgrade to the premium cable package.

Unacceptable.

A reasonable, set in stone, length of time you receive assistance, at the end of which time, you either...
   a) have found gainful employment
   b) agree to spend a set period of time in the military
   c) agree to spend a set period of time in the NCWC

Now we're cookin' with gas.

Wait. What?

What is the NCWC?

National Citizens Work Corps.

Never heard of it.

Understandable.

Hasn't been created yet.

Think Peace Corps only instead of helping Albanians learn techniques to prevent soil erosion, you help provide Milwaukeans affordable housing by being assigned to a Wisconsin Habitat For Humanity crew.

Or whatever you, or I, or anyone with vision and insight and imagination can come up with to get things done and provide people to get it done.

Getting those things done and giving those people a way to "pay their way" as they get those helping hands and legs up.

That turns welfare from its current, inflammatory, cost ineffective, lazy ass category status from unconditional...to conditional.

In life, you get what you pay for. So, too, should you get what you work for.

Easy peasy.

The successful removal of the "un" has all kinds of potential when it comes to dealing with a lot of society's ills.

Use of smart phones needs to be conditional, not "un". I've done numerous broadcasts and essays on making smartphones unusable when a car engine is running. It is a simple solution to the damage and death caused by distracted driving.

Driving a car, itself, needs to be conditional, not "un". Sure, we have to have a license to drive. Not that that's an impediment for anyone who either can't or won't score one. Would it surprise you to know that, although there is no real way to measure how many drivers on the road do not actually have a license, studies show that around 8500 people die each year on American roads in accidents caused by driver license-less drivers? Appall you? Yeah, sure. Surprise you? It really shouldn't.

This is America. Land of the free, home of the brave, headquarters of the unconditional.

Where 8 DUI arrests still doesn't keep you off the highway.

Wait, you pot stirring, rabble rouser, hold up, you say. There are laws, man.

Yeah. You go with that.

And I'll show you the couple of dozen items for retail sale with the White House or Presidential Seal on them that also bear the name Trump.

Then we'll have a witty, wonderful chat about laws....man.

Oh...and immigration....and the wall. Should coming into this country be "un"conditional?  Well, I'll tell you there, MAGAmigos, despite what your boy, there, wants you to think/believe/worship, no reasonably intelligent person, red, blue and/or in between, thinks for a nano, that entry into the United States should be without condition.

But the wall, at least the wall Donald promised the starry eyed, is impractical and unlikely.

Given the opp and the resources, though, that previously mentioned Innovative League of America could show up in the Oval on 24 hours notice with a whole sparkling shit pot of practical, cost effective, efficient ideas for how to "secure that border" and make life safer for us, truth, justice and the American way.

Well, then, what's the snag, Tag?

First. Gotta be 'the wall' he promised or he's gonna drop a notch or two or three on the Adulation Meter.

Unthinkable.

Second, neither Donald nor any of his "let 'em eat cake" CEO buddies know a thing about high tech solutions to border security. But bet your mother-in-law's life they know, or are, the proud owners of steel companies....and barbed wire companies.....and.....concrete companies.

And double down the bet that they are all ...unashamed.

Favorite mantra around here.

The problem with freedom...is that you have to give it to everybody.

Frankly, based on what we've seen here in the US of A in the last few years, I'd debate you till you drop that freedom is another one of those things that needs to have the "un" removed from the conditional.

For now, let's just make sure we understand each other.

Unconditional is simply not the ideal default setting for a lot of what we need to deal with in this country.

And to those who are peeing themselves waiting to jump in with that "we got laws, we got laws!" slap back, or snark, as the case may be, let me save you the oxygen expenditure.

We need fewer laws. But we need to enforce the living shit out of the ones that we keep.

Unconditional?

Unacceptable.

Time To Change The Rules On The Rules For Deciding Who Rules

I'm a word guy.

Always have been, always will be.

And that's not a brag or boast, in fact, it's really nothing more than an admission, and sharing, of what it is I seem to be.

Have always been. And will always be.

We all be something.

Some of us are mechanically inclined. My 4 year old grandson is already steering small farm equipment around and showing more than just a casual interest in tinkering with what makes them go.

I can change light bulbs, fuses and have been known, from time to time, to replace a worn lawn mower part or two but put a clearly malfunctioning carburetor in front of me, hold a gun to my head and say "fix this or you're dead."?

Save us both some time and embarrassment and just pull the trigger, man.  
 

That said, pretty sure that 4 year old master mechanic in the making can't, and probably never will, display the dexterity required to construct a witty and whimsical essay, eloquently enkindling a nation's passions, while remaining objective, but not obtuse.

Then again, he might turn out to be capable of a 500 word stanza on the aesthetics of John Deere being one of the subliminal motivations for one's purchase.

He's a cute kid. Don't want to sell him short.

All of this is by way of setting the stage, metaphorical as it might be in this here venue, for offering up one of those words that, these days, anyway, tend to result in a lot of teeth suddenly being set on edge and, as a pretty sure bet, safe rule, said teeth residing in the mouths of those who are very likely as far from living on my side of the philosophical street one can live and still qualify as a citizen of the same planet.

Because big words tend to annoy a lot of people these days.

The temptation, suddenly, looms to offer up something pointed and polemic like "big words often annoy small minds", but that kind of caustic childishness would something more easily expected from, say, a four year old.

And, like I said, I really don't know why that damn tractor won't start.

But here's the word.

Provocateur.

One who engages in provocative behavior. A person who provokes trouble, causes dissension or the like; agitator.

Yeah. That's sounds like me.

Truth be told, I prefer a more impish insinuation. Like, say,"king mixer" that Paul McCartney labeled his very clean grandfather in "A Hard Day's Night".

Or, for the more basic vocabularists in our midst, "shit stirrer."

There are a variety of methodologies employed to agitate, provoke, mix kingly or stir shittingly.

Some people can do it with just a look.

Others rely on Tweeting.

During commercial breaks on Fox and Friends.

Others do it by writing essays and/or op/eds and then producing them for broadcast/podcast.

Yeah. That sounds like me.

So here's the applicable provoke, agitate, kingly mix, manure muddle.

In the form of an unexpected. What with it coming from a more often, than not, accused sufferer of the deadly malady, libtardus snowflakeus.

The media couldn't be more wrong.

I'll give you nice folks in the fly over states a minute or two to return your jaws to their upright and locked position. And then elaborate accordingly.

The Democrats have announced that they will be excluding Fox News from hosting any of the scheduled twelve debates to take place in the coming months to weed down to, say, two or three, the, at this writing, 7,426 currently announced candidates for the 2020 Democratic presidential nomination.

When it comes to reaction, of course, there was immediately a whole lot of shakin' goin on, from the posing to the pompous to the pedantic to the predictable.

In another one of those plot twists that ratchets up the theatre value but most likely confuses those folks accidentally channel surfing away from "Mama June-From Not To Hot", humorist/politico Bill Maher summed it up best.

"...(the Democrats) turned down Fox's offer to host one of their 2020 primary debates saying Fox was nothing more than propaganda. Okay. So why not go on Fox News and tell them that?  You want to be in the big leagues but you refuse to ever play an away game? You don't like the questions that Fox News might ask so you're deciding to not take any questions at all...........

...........how very Trump of you..."

Point made. Set and match for Mr. Maher. Any further elaboration should come only in the form of a musical punchline, for amusement purposes only.

Whoops. There it is.

The media, of course, didn't make that call. That one belongs to the Democrats and their not just a "we're going to take our ball and go home" but a "we're not even going to play ball with you in the first place". And Maher is spot on with his own finger wagging punchline.

"How very Trump of you."

Even the lower on the intellectual food chain of our 'Murican brethren can get their heads around the fact that "denying" Fox the hosting gig is nothing more than the Democrats cutting off their opportunity to do some damage and/or score some points to spite their face.

Media didn't make that decision. That's the Democrats.

But media, blusterers, blowhards, bloviaters, brigands and some very fine people, on both sides, are as far from blameless as Felicity Huffman at a parent/teacher conference.

And not for the same old, yammer, yada, blah, blah, blah "enemy of the people" bullshit that Donald pulls out every time he needs an adrenaline enema courtesy of his peanut gallery collectively blowing sunshine up his ass.

Because media, or as we born in and around the Eisenhower/Kennedy days remember it, journalism is supposed to be about fact gathering and truth telling.

And, make no mistake, there are, sincerely, professional, committed, chock full of integrity goodness journalists sailing fearlessly out there on the sea of sensationalism who do, in fact, do just that.

Fact gather. And truth tell.

The rest, meanwhile, the lion's share, or, how about the "lyin' share? (if Donald were half as clever as he thinks he is, he would have made that a trademark tweet shot years ago) . The rest seem to be caught up in an endless loop of a very annoying, and not just a little bit harmful to the national health, game show called "Gotcha!"

In journalism, used to be getting it right, getting it corroborated and getting it out there first.

Remember "Back To The Future" and that photo of Marty and his sister Linda and brother Dave? 

Yeah. Linda and Dave are getting it right and getting it corroborated.

Fade to black, baby.

Not all the news about the news is bleak and black, though.

And here's a chance for those of you mediameisters who went over to the dark side and are now achy and sore with the pains of buyer's remorse to get back to where you once belonged.

Starts with those debates that we all know are going to be more uselesser than useless, more tediouser than tedious, more childisher than childish.

First, everybody gets to play. That means CNN and MSNBC and PBS and, yes, Virginia, Fox News.

But more importantly, even critically, it's time for media to stop enabling the infantile behavior of the candidates and actually take a new and refreshed shot at being the grown-ups in the room.

And here's a fun, value added, bonus feature.

The whole premise can be primarily based on one of America's most fundamental, foundational, every single day priorities in life.

Game shows.

In this case, the "game" is basically "Jeopardy" meets "Pyramid" meets "Half Wits" with a potential grand sweepstakes prize that includes $400,000 annually, cars, planes and trains and a four, possibly eight, year all expenses paid stay at a luxurious 132 room resort at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, Washington, DC.

As with every game show worth its prize package salt, though, there gotta be rules.

Yeah, okay, presidential "debates" have always had rules. You know that silly list of shit the moderator reads from the prompter at the beginning?

Cue Dr. Phil. How's that workin' for ya?

The aforementioned Bill Maher wraps up his weekly show with a segment entitled "New Rules"

Props (and courtesy, even if unknown, of Real Time and HBO, so please don't sue, thanks) to Mr. Maher, here's an "S.E.P." salute to that segment, sure to take the "duhh" out of these "duhhbates".

"...time for New Rules..." Election for President Edition. (I tried multiple times to type the word "Presidential" and simply couldn't do it. Things haven't been "presidential" in this country for a long time)

• TIME: the usual "candidates have two minutes for opening statement, two minutes for answering, one point six minutes for rebuttal, four minutes for smoke break, eight seconds for throat clearing" nonsense needs to be streamlined bigly......

1. Limit the opening statement...fine
2. Expand the opportunity for answering by the several minutes that always accumulate during these things, of the noise, yammer, yada and blah of them interrupting and/or talking over each other. (we'll deal with that shortly)
3. Limit the closing statement...fine.

•  BEHAVIOR: here's where the "game" not only gets a major overhaul but actually runs the risk of becoming useful to viewers/voters/those sincerely seeking to make an intelligent choice of candidates.

1. Avoiding an answer to the asked question by pivoting to anything else: verbal warning followed by microphone shut off, on to the next candidate and/or question.
2. Interrupting another candidate (per each q/a): first time, verbal warning (a cute ding or buzz to keep things loose); second time: interrupter loses their next turn to speak. third time: Automatically disqualified, microphone shut off, the debate is soup and guess what? No soup for you!
3. Name calling: Zero tolerance. First time: automatic disqualification, microphone shut off. GAME OVER.

There are, of course, at least a few other tweaks that could turn these waste of time, expensively dressed freak shows into something in which reasonably intelligent people could find benefit and/or use. Every one who likes things the way they are....surf back over to Mama June.

Oh...and while it wasn't specifically mentioned earlier, these rules would apply to any election for President debate from either, any and/or all political parties, not just the Democrats.

(attention ad dollar obsessed networks: ratings would be through the roof watching the veins in Donald's temples pound as he did his level best to last more that five minutes without imploding over Behavior Rule # 3.)

I said, at the outset, that media couldn't be more wrong.

For a big ol' bunch of sea of sensationalism sailing enthusiasts, they sure are missing the boat when it comes to these debates.

After the first five minutes of any free for all, boredom sets in like rigor in the Hallmark Channel career of Lori Loughlin.

You want real drama? Suspense? Tingly anticipation?

Just watch a group of politicians at one of these things try to actually answer the question asked. Or keep from interrupting someone.

And forget the yawn snooze of disingenuous mealy mouthing about church and state.

Stay tuned for the almost sure to occur explosion of Donald's temples.

And, bubbling up to the top (some would say "tippy top") of the bubbling pot of political poop for the first time in a long time.....?

Some actual news we can use.

All it would take is some changing of the rules.

Call it a stirring of that poop pot.

Consider it an act of patriotism.

By yours truly.

The provocateur.

Under The Right Circumstances, "It's All Downhill From Here" Would Be Wonderful News

Old joke.

Guy goes to the doctor, doctor examines him and tells him he only has six months to live.

Guy says "oh, my God, doc....what can I do?"

Doctor says "get married...."

Guy says "and that will cure me?"

Doctor says, "oh, no, there's no cure but it will seem like the longest six months of your life."

The last twenty eight months in America have been a lot like that. 
 

Twenty eight months ago, America, or at least the America tallied and computed via the Electoral College, put Donald Trump in the White House.     

And, putting it miles past mildly, it seems like it's been the longest twenty eight months of our lives.

Regardless of which side, regardless of approval or disapproval, regardless of whether you wear your red cap with pride to each and every rally or you wear out your already thin patience dealing with the ripples and rumbles resulting from those rallies....and pretty much everything else that this man does or says on an daily, well, hell, make that hourly basis.

Lot of history made with this choice of chief to hail, kids. From the first president to never have been elected to anything, ever, before taking over the most powerful job on the planet to the elimination or, at least, temporary putting on pause, of what we refer to in the political vocabulary as the middle.

For twenty eight months, there really has been no middle.

We, the people are, either all in.

Or all out.

And, twenty eight long months in, there really is no logical reason to expect the middle is going to reappear until the current occupant becomes the former occupant.

If the middle ever actually appears again. Or if the current occupant ever actually becomes the former occupant.

Yeah, that "kidding around" about President for Life is a real hoot. And, surely, just a silliness that no one in their right frontal lobe condition would ever think of taking seriously.

Much like that silly, crude, blunt tool of a candidate that no one in their right frontal lobe condition took seriously.

Twenty eight long months ago.

So, at the very least, we, the people, are in for seventeen more months of this electoral adventure with the very real possibility that there may end up being another forty eight tacked on for measure.

Yeah, the common expression is good measure. But....well, just.......no.

And the, by now, well honed inclination is, at least for those of us on this side of the street, to continue this thought thread in the direction of " because there's really nothing good about it."

In fairness, a quality that's getting to be a pill of propriety increasingly hard to swallow, it's not fair to say there's nothing good about it.

Even a broken clock and all that.

Or as I like to spar with my conversation co-horts when we crank it up, I imagine even Jeffrey Dahmer sent his mom a birthday card, at least, every now and then.

But during one of those conversations, just this past week, as a matter of fact, something popped out of my own medulla that was fresh issue. A perspective that actually had nothing to do, directly, with the flaws, failings, fracas fiasco that is the presentation, presidency or even personality of Donald Trump.

And being always inclined, not to mention fond, of peeling layers and seeking out the problem that lies beneath the problem or problems, I realized this peeling was possibly profound.

And, obviously, annoyingly alliterative.

Which isn't to say it wasn't, and isn't, right on the money.

Don't bet against me. You'll lose. Tell you why in a few minutes.

Geri Jewell is an award winning actress, humorist, author and motivational speaker. Best known to Generation X'ers and older Millenials for her role in the 80's sitcom The Facts Of Life, in the early 2000's she played the character Jewel in the HBO series "Deadwood".

Her second autobiography, published in 2011, is titled I'm Walking As Straight As I Can. A clever double shot of wit as it refers to a pair of life challenges, as she is lesbian and has cerebral palsy.

I don't know the lady personally, actually have never met her in the conventional sense, but she is a Facebook friend, one of those friend of a friend who knows a friend who is a friend of mine kind of social media friends we all have.

Her posts are interesting, enjoyable and optimistic without being all Hallmark Channel about it. Her good spirits and glass half full approach is to be respected given her physical challenges alone.

I bring her into this commentary because of a recent Facebook post, not a personal sharing or life affirmation, but, actually, a personal, if not commercial, endorsement of a product that a friend of hers invented. One that she personally uses with great satisfaction.

It's called the LifeGlider. Here's the blurb,directly from their website.

The LifeGlider is a new medical device that permits upright,hands-free mobility. It is designed to reduce the fear of falling and the fatigue associated with struggling to walk.

A quick visit to the website and you'll see for yourself that what we're talking about here is a state of the art walker.

And that's not meant, in any way whatsoever, to minimize or trivialize the creation or usefulness of the device.

Put in a simple, not tech talk manner of analysis.

This thing is pretty cool.

And what does all of that have to do with twenty eight long months of a presidency that 80+ million people believe a) never should have happened in the first place and b) cannot end one single millisecond too soon?

Not to mention the possible profundity I mentioned earlier.

Seriously, did you think for a second that I wasn't going to tie it all together tightly?

Really?

Welcome. Glad to have you along for your first time.

If you bet against me a few minutes ago, get your money out.

Sorry, no checks or credit cards. I'm a cash only commentator.

About ten years ago, the NEA announced the results of a study that showed that, at the time, there were approximately 2.1 million artists in the American workforce. And for the predictable hair trigger naysayers prepared to ready, fire...aim, the term "artist", in the NEA study refers not to actors or songwriters or musicians or painters but designers, whose designs contribute in an essential way to industries whose products are used every single day...by Americans.

There's a whole "jobs" thing we could go off on for a while, but we'll do that another time.

Keep in mind, as well, that number, 2.1 million is both almost ten years ago...and refers to those documented as being in the workplace. It doesn't account for the increase in the number itself in the last ten years, nor does it account for the, safe to say, tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of inventive, creative, visionary people laboring away in their spare time in the comfort of their own home or even Mom's basement.

Makes you really think about investing more heavily in Hot Pockets stock, doesn't it?

America, to be sure and with all due modesty, doesn't have a corner on the market when it comes to inventive, creative, visionary people.

Not everything that has been invented has been invented by an American. Or by Donald Trump.

Regardless of what Donald Trump tells you.

But America has an amazing, exciting, dare we say dazzling history of invention, creation and vision.

The list is long and luxurious and, when you need a little psychological pick me up, available for a gleeful glance at your friendly neighborhood Google.

And as technology continues to advance, making it easier for bright minds to find an outlet and a method for them to invent, create and work out the kinks of those inventions and creations, the sky isn't even the limit anymore.

But here's the thing under that thing.

I'm not even talking about the next great smartphone. Or faster gaming. Or something as simple and basic as a better mousetrap.

I'm talking about actually solving the energy crisis with clean, affordable, environmentally compatible methods.

Medical breakthroughs that, by minimizing the outbreak, even occurrence, of diseases not only enhance and increase quality of human life but begin to solve the Rubik's Cube dilemma of quality, affordable healthcare....it's very simple math....the less poor or ill health, the less need for outside care of that health.

New designs and concepts for simple, affordable quality shelter for any human being in need of it. Homelessness....gone.

What else? What else do we need? What else needs to be improved, replaced, replenished, renewed?

What else you got?

The mere act of beginning to think "why not" begats more ideas that begats more invention, creation, vision that begats more ideas that begats more invention, creation..........

....see how easy that rock rolls once somebody pushes it?

But there's something required for any of this United Federation of Planets futurism to happen.

That rock? The one that has to be pushed?

It has to have a clear path available for it to roll all the way to that future.

And, by the nature of our systems, and the way our societies operate, that requires leaders who, if not, are, then, at least, understand, endorse and are, even, enthusiastic about invention, creation, vision.

Visionaries.

It's been twenty eight long months of arguing back and forth with each other about the flaws, failings, fracas fiasco that is the presentation, presidency and even personality of Donald Trump.

And there will never be agreement, by all of we, the people, as to his worth, or lack, as a president, a man, even a human being.

But here's a written in stone fact that cannot be disproved.

With every action, presentation and 99.9% of the words that come from his daily posts and/or his own mouth, Donald Trump proves that he is not a visionary.

And while many, present company included, get worked up, truth be told,we are distracted by the frustration he inspires and fail to see what he really is.

That rock of amazing invention, creativity, vision needs to roll until there ain't no more roll left to roll.

Donald Trump....is in the way.

Suddenly, all that talk about a wall takes on a whole new meaning.

My Demagogue's Better Than Your Democrat...

Some of you might already know that I lead a double life.

Well, triple, if you count my ongoing Walter Mitty-esque fantasy in which I conquer, if only in my head, the world of professional golf during my several times a week eighteen holes on my local Par 3 version of Pebble Beach.

As to the double, well, in addition to this primarily politically themed commentary, I produce and host a weekly, hourly music oriented podcast featuring, primarily, oldies. Although oldies is, depending on one's age, a relative term.

For a long time, the running gag was "hey, did you know that Paul McCartney was in a band before Wings?"

These days, that little witty very often results in a glazed expression and the response "....uh, who's Wings?"

The only reason I even mention the music podcast, other than, of course, the opportunity to shamelessly self promote The Boomer Show, available at sepradionetwork.com and on ITunes, is to borrow from myself an observation about life, time and perspective that comes in handy with today's commentary.   

Comes in the form of a catchphrase I use on the music podcast, The Boomer Show, available at sepradionetwork.com and on ITunes.

Everything oldies is new again,

Today's case in point has to do with religion, such as it is, politics, the kind with the distinct aroma of religion on it...and nutrition, in the form of keeping your pet healthy and happy.

You're going to have to have faith that I can bring all of that together and make sense of it for you.

But, hey, what's not to trust? I don't really have any reason to lie to you. It's not like I'm running for office or anything.

Bringing, if not the sheaves, then all of it together happens shortly.

Acclaimed songwriter Hugh Prestwood said it eloquently in a piece he wrote and Trisha Yearwood recorded a few years back.

The song remembers when.

That was, of course, Prestwood's lyrical inside/out turning of one of life's more poignant features, the emotional attachment, in the form of memories, that our favorite songs inspire and instill in us.

In a less polished, more work a day world fashion, the same thing can be said for the song's most often smart alecky cousin...the jingle.

The dictionary offers up its usual no frills, Cliff Notes explanation for those in need of explanation.

Jingle. Noun.  A short slogan, verse or tune designed to be easily remembered, especially as used in advertising.

And, as we all know, no matter what generation we call our own, if a jingle does its work correctly, easily remembered is exactly what it is.

Sometimes, for a lifetime.

For those concerned, at this point, about where we might be going with this train of thought, rest assured our destination is not twenty minutes on the history of jingles, complete with earworm inducing playback. So relax and spend a few minutes as another important point gets made. If you have a few minutes.

In fact, if you've got the time..........we've got the beer.

Bet your ass, easily remembered.

Among my other nefarious activities during a brightly checkered past, I've not only enjoyed jingles, I have written and composed them. Even won an award here or there. But, as I mentioned, this commentary isn't the time or the place to be sprinkling slogans for no other reason than shameless self sprinkling.

For that, you'll want to log on and download The Boomer Show at sepradionetwork.com, also available on ITunes.

I actually bring up the whole jingle thing, or jingle thingle if I was thinking of ear-worming you, because one long ago favorite popped into my head as I was reading an online post from a pretty obviously religiously based political action committee disguised as a family advocacy group and one comment in particular from what I feel very safe in betting is a zealous advocate of said pretty obviously religiously based political action committee disguised as a family advocacy group.

And, given all of that, it makes only perfect sense that the jingle that popped into said head was a fun favorite of the 1960's.

My dog's faster than your dog,

My dog's bigger than yours.

My dog's better 'cause he gets Ken-L Ration,

My dog's better than yours.

The effectiveness of any advertising campaign, of course, is the impact that it has on the buying public at the time the campaign is underway.

Goes without saying, of course, that you can call one a success if it still rings people's bells fifty years later.

Like that song that stays with you forever.

Oh..and bonus trivia/synchronicity for you, the jingle there was actually a rewritten lyric to a song written a few years earlier by folk singer Tom Paxton.

But this piece isn't about folk singer Tom Paxton, his gift with a lyric, a clever re-write designed to sell more dog food.

Or dog food.

This piece is about bigotry and prejudice and narrow mindedness and, if I may be si grossier, ignorant.

In this case, in the form of an online post and comment coming from a pretty obviously religiously based political action committee disguised as a family advocacy group.

Kamala Harris, running for President, has come out in favor of legalizing prostitution.

The whys and wherefores of that idea, her stand on it, the implications of the idea in general, yada, yada is fodder for a different time.

Suffice to say that the aforementioned RBPACDAFAG was Johnny the Baptist on the spot with their professionally starched version of "ain't nobody got time for that."

"...The Left's twisted definition of "harm" to others..Part of what makes a country livable and decent over the long term are laws that support public morality, like laws against prostitution. Contrary to conventional wisdom, what happens between consenting adults doesn't only affect them. It reverberates throughout the culture."

To be expected, one of the faithful quickly posted an "amen" in the form of the following.

"...No low is too low to stoop for the Democrats. Weed, prostitution, clean needle programs, abortions, assisted suicide, illegals voting; this is who the Democrat party has become. They glory in debauchery and depravity. they need to be utterly defeated at the ballot box.".

Cue Church Lady.

"Well, now, isn't that special."

There's a problem on display here. And it's a pretty good bet that it's not the problem most people think it is.

Whoever the people. Whatever problem they think it is.

Because this particular problem is one of those that hides underneath or behind the problem or problems that are most likely to bubble up and boil over when this kind of hot topic starts cookin'.

And it would be easy, because Lord knows it's tempting, to respond, reply, even retaliate against the original post and the accompanying comment in the predictable, tried and true, but, frankly, increasingly more wearying endless cycle of back and forth that passes for discussion and debate these days.

That comeback would comeback a little something like this:

So, 'no low is too low to stoop for the Democrats'? That's all you got?

Okay. So let's say the Democrats actually do 'harm' livability and decency, damaging the public morality by advocating on behalf of  'weed, prostitution, clean needle programs, abortions, assisted suicide, illegals voting (that one is nonsensical bullshit, by the way, but let's keep the commenters' quote intact)....and 'glory in debauchery and depravity'.

For the sake of the point here, let's just say guilty as charged.

And Republicans? Or, more accurately, Trumpians, because, come on, bunky, we both know that the Republican Party as we have known it for a hundred plus years is lying scattered in pieces around the country, like an Abe Lincoln Commemorative Plate that has been thrown down on a concrete floor...

...while the Democrats are harming livability, decency, the public morality and glorying in debauchery and depravity.....all the Trumpians are doing is electing, supporting, endorsing, loving, worshiping and adoring....Donald Trump.

Adulterer. Business and tax cheat. Sexual predator. Mocker of the handicapped. Pathological liar of galactically historical proportions. Supporter/endorser/BFF of foreign dictators. Sworn enemy of foundational American institutions. Absurdly obvious dis-respecter of the U.S. Constitution. Panderer, hustler, con man. Demagogue. Possibly....even....a traitor to his country.

Snake oil salesman in a badly tailored five thousand dollar suit and an unprecedentedly bad comb over.

That's how the comeback would comeback.

Like that.

But that's simply the too predictable, tried and true, but, frankly, increasingly more wearying endless cycle of back and forth that passes for discussion and debate these days.

And while it illustrates the problem underneath, or behind, the problem, it doesn't address it.

Or identify it.

Superiority.

Not an attractive quality in anyone, at any time, under any circumstances.

More than that, an absolutely useless expression of opinion.

And a death sentence for any hope of figuring out how to productively and compassionately share space and time on the same planet for the time we are allotted on the planet.

But, just to add insult to ignorance, it takes on an even deeper uselessness when upgraded to its more common style of presentation these days.

Smug superiority.

Or, as it's both commonly, and in this case, ironically, known....

...holier than thou.

You can practically hear that commenter singing the jingle now.

My hatred's better / than your hatred
My bigotry's better / than yours
My bias is better / cause
Jesus loves me / this I know

Yeah. That's not how it usually goes.

First rule of good jingle writing.

Know your audience.

But, Darlings, Most Of All, He Loves How You Love Him

Mel Carter is alive and well, going to be eighty years young in April.

More on Mel momentarily.

Donald Trump, just back from his historically successful trip to Vietnam and unprecedentedly productive summit meeting with North Korea's Kim Jong Un, wandered into a Maryland hotel ballroom Saturday and ad-libbed over two hours of wit, whimsy, wisdom and the kind of inspiration America should be getting on its knees to be thankful for each and every minute of each and every day.

Here's the greatest hits:



He walked on stage and hugged the American flag as a two year old might hug his mommy in the grocery store when a stranger said hello.  

He enlightened the highly sophisticated crowd to the merits of the presidency of William McKinley.

He praised big donor Richard LeFrak for calling him "Mr. President" when it's "okay to call me Donald".

He called TiVo one of the great inventions of history.

He continued referring to the Democratic candidate who was defeated over two years ago as "Crooked Hillary."

He sprinkled the words of warning "socialist" and/or "socialism" more liberally than a two year old would pour jimmies on the soft serve ice cream.

He dismissed any plan to reduce America's fossil fuel consumption, reminding the congregation that without air travel, there would be no way to reach Europe...or Hawaii.

He shared that one day he was lonely in the White House....so he had Air Force One revved up and took off to Iraq.

He "formally announced" that "some time, probably next week" 100 percent of the threat of any Islamic caliphate will be eliminated.

He criticized, ridiculed and/or mocked several past high ranking government officials. His former defense secretary, James Mattis. His former Attorney General Jeff Sessions, complete with a hilarious Trump impression of a Southern accent. 

He described people who travel from Mexico to the U.S. as "murderers, killers, drug dealers and human traffickers" and cited, as empirical evidence, statistics provided by the Federation for American Immigration Reform, a bunch of very fine people who have been officially designated as a hate group.

He assured the frenzied following that the forthcoming confiscation of guns will not be allowed. "I'll protect you....I promise".

He asked the tearfully sympathetic fan club for sympathy for the dilemma he faces, having to praise Kim Jong Un as a friend without alienating people outraged by the torture death of American student Otto Warmbier...saying....

"I'm in such a horrible position..."

At two plus hours, it was the longest speech he has given since he took, just for shits and grins, the oath of office two years ago.

Compassionate, ever committed to their Christianity, Conservative "Christians" rate the speech just north of "ask not, what your country can do for you"....and just south of "Four score and seven years ago.."

People who actually live, and respect, a genuine Christian lifestyle, said an extra special prayer of thanks that they didn't have to be there to endure the experience.

Credit where due, Americans, everywhere, benefit from the gift of an expanded vocabulary whenever he opens his mouth.....in this instance, the new and exciting word is......palpable.

For example...

his narcissism is....

his sociopathy is...(bonus there for people who never heard the word 'sociopathy' before)

his inability to inspire anyone beyond extremists and/or illiterates is...

his increasing fear of being indicted is...

his gnawing fear of being impeached and/or incarcerated is...

his panic at being found guilty of multiple felonious activities is...(again...bonus...'felonious')

 

his pettiness, childishness, crystal clear textbook case of arrested development are...

his pathetic, infuriating and, at the same time, pitifully sad need to be loved, adored, worshiped, respected is...

Palpable....the word of the day,

As in....

...the frustration, indignation, embarrassment, resentment, even anger that this empty, sad, pitiful shell of a man gets his mail at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue....is......palpable.

Mel Carter will be 80 in April.

What a tribute it would be for his milestone birthday if we were to let him know that his great 1965 pop hit classic has been chosen to replace "Hail To The Chief" as the official song of the current occupant of the presidency of the United States.

"Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me."

The irony...the satire.....the silliness.....the sadness......

...why, they're practically.......

Oh, by the way, Mel, extra special congratulations are in order on your song being selected.

It was neck and neck and very hard to decide between you and the other guy we considered.

Bobby Vinton.

Having to choose one or the other.....put us in such a horrible position.

The stress...

...was palpable.