Wednesday, September 26, 2012


Commercial break and most of America goes running to the refrigerator for another beer or the bathroom to get rid of beer. 
Unless the ad men have come up with one of those commercials that keep asses in the seat. 
The ones that keep my ass firmly planted in my Lazyboy  are the Etrade baby, Hardee's (the girls making the pulled pork and hamburger sandwich), the Sandals vacation, but the best one is the commercial for Korean Air. 
 It's the one that has all these giant beautiful people who appear to be 1000 foot tall walking on a bridge in Soeul, dangling their foot in a waterfall in Brazil, a women standing on an overpass in Shanghai and 3 gorgeous flight attendants walking in step at Incheon airport trying not to stomp on the tiny airliners. 
The music is great too.

There are no girls in skimpy bikinis like the Hardee's ad, or cute babies talking like a hip day trader like the ETrade commercial.  
It is just one of most eye pleasing artfully done ads I can think of. And it has my full attention. 

When I see this ad it makes me think of the hit AMC show Madmen. This is what they strive for at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (soon to be Sterling Cooper Draper Campbell), to create an ad campaign like this for their client. 

Of course the computer generated imagery was many decades away for the fictional 60's era drama so ads like this one were not possible. 
But the show Madmen is still the first thing I think of after this commercial is over. 
The second thing I think of is KAL 007 that was shot down by USSR pilot Gennadi Osipovich in 1983 with permission to shoot the airliner granted or ordered from ground command. 
Osipovich and his commanders murdered 269 innocent men women and children in cold-war blood. 
At first the Soviets denied shooting any plane down, when that scam failed they tried to make the case that they shot down a US spy plane, that lie failed so they tried to say that it was a South Korean plane that was on a CIA mission. 
They destroyed evidence of the downed civilian airliner in the Sea of Japan and pretended to search a different area to throw off search and rescue efforts by the US and Korea.  
There was a US Congressman aboard and the Cold War was in its heyday and it was a very tense situation. 
One of the most disgusting aspects of this crime was the so-called Americans who got in bed with the Communist government and tried to blame this mass murder on America.
These traitors were probably the parents of the next generation of scumbags that tried to blame 9/11 on the US     

Only after the fall of the Soviet Union did the evidence hidden by the Communist government see the light of day. 
It only confirmed what intelligent people believed about the incident all along. 
KAL 007 was on-route from New York via Anchorage to Soeul South Korea, flying over the North Pole region and due to pilot error they did not switch the proper navigation system on. This led to the airliner straying over the Soviet airspace of an island that maintained a military installation. 
The flight crew of KAL 007 were totally unaware that they had strayed over Soviet airspace. The Soviet air command were very aware. 
They immediately scrambled jet fighters to intercept the airliner. 

Military pilots are well versed in identifying aircraft types. 
The Boeing 747-230B would have been easily identifiable with the distinctive fuselage, windows, markings and lights. 
 The Soviet pilot said he wagged his wings and fire warning shots but the aircraft refused to acknowledge his warnings. 
Even if the pilot was telling the truth, it was dark and the rounds fired were not tracers, there would be no way for the pilots of KAL 007 to see these warnings. 
The mass murderer in the cockpit could have done many things to de-escalate the event. 
Instead he went for the easy kill and blew the helpless airliner out of the sky. 
I wonder if Gennadi Osipovich ever thinks about the 269 innocent lives he snuffed out that night. 

What can any normal human being think about the pilot who fired that missile and got the easy kill, the ground commanders who ordered the murders, the traitors in this country who accused the US of masterminding this tragedy, the Soviet hierarchy who lied then covered it up, then destroyed the incriminating evidence, then used it for propaganda against the US, 

When I think of these evil people I think again of madmen, But it's madmen with a small "m".

Thursday, September 13, 2012


President Gumby: Psssssst, on all these issues, but particularly missile defense, this, this can be solved, but its important to give me space.

Dmitry Medvedev: Yeah, I understand. I understand your message about space. Space is for you.

President Gumby: This is my last election. After my election, I have more flexibility.

Dmitry Medvedev: I understand. I will transmit this information to Vladimir.

I added the Psssssst. President Gumby didn’t actually say psssssst, he was just talking under his breath to the president of Russia. He was sneaking a secret uncoded message  to Medvedev that he wanted “transmitted” or smuggled to Mr. KGB himself Vladimir Putin.

The left-winged news media labeled President Reagan “ The Teflon President” because all the garbage they threw on him slid right off.
The left-winged news media have done everything in its power to spray President Gumby down with Scotchguard. President Gumby’s secret message to Putin, via Medveded, would have been played on an endless loop had a Republican pulled that crap.

This lack of media interest in Gumby’s open mic treachery, is but just one small blot of a much larger stain on journalism.
Yesterday, the media itself became news after reporters fell victim to the open mic and verified what most of us already knew.
Seems a room full of so-called journalists were plotting to play “gotcha” on Mitt Romney yesterday.
The media from different news organizations were caught on an open mic conspiring together trying to frame the debate of Romney’s criticism of President Gumby’s mini apology tour to the murderers of our diplomats in Libya.

They wanted to take the heat off their President and make Romney go on the defensive by attacking him for pointing out President Gumby’s failure in his handling of foreign affairs.

The media’s behavior is not news to most of us, but it is disgusting, nonetheless.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


I had gotten up early that morning to take mom and her friend to the airport to catch a flight to Vegas. I lived only 15 minutes from Indianapolis International airport, which made it convenient for family that lived out of town to stay with me the night before catching a flight. Living that close to the airport also has some very noisy drawbacks. Namely the UPS runway choice at 4:00 am launching heavily loaded cargo jets at one-minute intervals directly over my roof. This is where my habit of having a fan blowing directly in my face while sleeping came in handy, still it doesn’t block out the noise completely.
Although it was a workday I was still able to make the airport run for the gamblers because my license had been suspended due to a screw-up with the BMV and an old ticket that never got mailed to the right place. I called the prosecutors office and she promised she would straighten it out ASAP. I didn’t want to take a chance driving the company van so I told my supervisor about the situation and took time off work.
When I got back home from the airport, it was still early so I went back to bed for a bit. I woke a short time later and turned on the Bob & Tom radio show. Expecting their usual laughter and comedy bits instead Tom Griswold was talking in a very serious tone about something that had just happened in New York.
 Through my fog and without the benefit of my morning coffee I tried to comprehend why he was so sullen. Something about an airliner that had crashed into the World Trade center. How the hell could a pilot not see that building I wondered? I turned on one of the network morning shows; they were showing both towers and franticly talking about a second aircraft that had just crashed into the other WTC! My suspicions immediately went to the Middle east, with all the red hot anger and hatred that far surpassed the emotions I had been experiencing during my recent very ugly divorce.

I got out of bed and tried to comprehend this unfolding nightmare, next on the list was the Pentagon, "damn how big was this terrorist operation?" Thoughts of my mom on a plane brought fear into the emotional mix along with the rage and hatred I was already feeling. The next event, flight 93 bravely diverted into the ground by the hero’s who revolted against the murderous cowards. How many planes do these scumbags have control of?
 I had been not been able to reach mom, could they have her plane too? I sat there and kept waiting for the next jetliner to fall out of the sky. Seemingly hours later I finally heard from mom. She related what happened to her flight; somewhere between Albuquerque and Las Vegas the pilot announced, “due to a national emergency they were being ordered to land at the nearest airport”. The plane made a u-turn and landed at Albuquerque where the Red Cross met them. This is where they would spend the next couple of days during the ground stop.
I broke down and bawled like a baby during our conversation. Relieved that mom wasn’t on a plane with a bunch of radical islamics heading toward another target I got back to the TV coverage of the carnage and my rage! I had been trying to contact my then girlfriend who lived in Austin TX; she had a flight scheduled to Indy on the next day for a visit. She worked nights, as a bartender so contacting her in other than her “vampire hours” was next to impossible. Early that afternoon she finally called me back, extremely upset and pissed off as was 99% of the population of our country. She told me she was glad George Bush was president because she knew he would kick somebody’s ass over this. I was shocked to hear that from her, she was no fan of President Bush for sure, her love for Slick Willie and the democratic party made for some heated debates between us, but she was really cute and ran a bar in Austin, what more could a guy ask for? Here she was, a staunch democrat backing President Bush as was most of the country.

I spent the rest of that week watching the TV coverage until I couldn’t stand it any longer then I would go outside only to look up at the clear blue sky and get another dagger through the heart by not seeing even one plane or contrail as I looked up.
 Later that day I was outside talking to a neighbor, we looked up and flying as high as possible was a large jet aircraft with another smaller aircraft flying at it’s wing heading northeast. I realized it had to be Air force One and a fighter chase plane.

 Next came the hoarding panic with gasoline. I heard some mindless profiteers were gouging at the gas pumps. Even though ny drivers license was suspended, we had a Meijer at the edge of our community so I drove there for a tank of gas only to see they had jacked up their price by 45 cents since that morning.
That was small potato’s compared to a north side gas station ran by a middle eastern man who jacked up his gas by about 3 dollars a gallon. Fortunately that little act of greed caused a lot of negative press and they were subsequently ran out of business later. The owner then had a mysterious fire with the owner suspected of pulling an insurance job.
I didn’t hear from the prosecutor that was going to help me with my suspended license for the next several days, I guess everybody had different priorities other than handling my insignificant problem. So I sat at home most for the next 11 days during the worst unpaid vacation of my life alternately watching the news reports until I felt too depressed to watch anymore so I would go outside until I couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on anymore so back to the TV again for another dose of depression. Most memorable was coverage of Palestinians in the streets cheering for the barbarians who murdered thousands of innocent men women and children.

The country for the most part rallied together, flags were flying everywhere, fit men and women were joining the military and were ready for the fight. Patriotism was surging, unfortunately Hollywood and the network news organizations didn’t get the memo. Statements made by three elites stand out in my mind a decade later. First from the late not so great Canadian Peter Jennings, using a tragic event of this magnitude to spout his left winged venom criticized President for not being immediately on site and comfort us with a speech he went on to say “Well, some presidents are just better at it than others
Secondly some female apologist for the PLO, on a news program responding to someone who rightly called the terrorist, cowards, her take on it was they were great warriors who gave their life for what they believed in. She didn’t mention that one of these so-called warriors had so bravely slashed the throat of a flight attendant while her hands were tied behind her back. She never mentioned that they murdered innocent unarmed people or that one of the motives of these terrorist were the seventy-two virgins these losers were supposed to get when die.

 And thirdly was a statement by John Mellencamp, he was on the Bob & Tom show after president Bush made that moving speech to congress. Bob & Tom no bastion of conservatism, had been remarking how great the speech was. When Mellencamp came on the program they asked him if he liked the speech. His reply was “ well I’m a peacenik so I didn’t like what he said” he went on to say how we need to understand the causes that made these people do something like this. Come on Johnny Cougar give me a fricking break!

There were some of the usual blame America first crowd, running their mouth, but for the most part the states were united.
 Unfortunately patriotism for some is a fleeting thing, ten years later I am amazed how short some peoples memory are. The new normal has taken hold and we live with body scans at the airport, close call unsuccessful terrorist attacks on our soil and some that are successful. The new normal means almost daily body counts of the brave Americans fighting over seas to keep these lunatics over seas and away from us.

My personal new normal was mostly trying to deal with the hatred and rage that was burning inside me. I found out that drinking doesn’t help extinguish these emotions, other methods were needed. I wish I could say that I didn't have to find that out the hard way.
I had to find a real secure little cage in a dark basement to lock most of these feelings away where they now reside with the anger and hate left over from my divorce. I hate to hate, it goes against my spiritual beliefs and it eats away at you from the inside. Not to say that those monsters in the basement don’t try to sneak out from time to time. It’s a constant battle to keep these things down there where it’s safer. I do this so I can function in the new normal and not spew hatred at all muslims. I also keep the divorce demons down there for the sake and sanity of me and my kids and my soon to be grandson. I don’t know how the family’s that lost loved ones that day do it. My heart goes out to them, God only knows how they deal with the pain, I’m sure a lot of them don’t do it so well and it doesn’t help when they continually get slapped in the face with things like the “Ground Zero mosque”.

Ten years later, I no longer live on the approach of UPS’s runway. I’m happily remarried to a pretty young lady (not the Texas bartender). Mom’s still going strong and keeping the local casino’s solvent. I have great kids and a grandson on the way (he's here now) that I can’t wait to spoil. A few aches, pains, bumps and bruises but overall I am really happy with my life.

A couple of days after it all began and the ground stop had been lifted, we all went to pick up mom and her friend at the airport. There were hugs and tears all around; the ever-resourceful gamblers had found a local Indian reservation casino to donate to while stuck in Albuquerque.
Thinking back to the day when the planes got back in the air. Later that night standing in the backyard watching all the aircraft back in their familiar flight patterns I began to feel a little more normal. Not the same normal I was on 9/10/2001, but the new normal that we all are almost ten years later.
 Later that night, like clockwork at 4:00 am the UPS payloads were just above my roof once again, engines spooled all the way up and straining against gravity. I knew I wouldn’t feel this way forever, but tonight it was music to my ears.

Don't tread on us bitches!

P.S.  hey Bin Laden, are you wondering where those 72 virgins are and why Heaven is so hot?

U.S. Special Forces pay bin laden a visit

Sunday, September 2, 2012


Wednesday, a day of fast, not for religious reasons, not for lack of food in the house. No it was for the procedure. 
The procedure that every heterosexual male dreads. 

 I was able to eat some J.E.L.L.O.  and some broth. 
Problem is, I'm a carnivore, my body craves meat like a vampire craves blood. 
After 12 hours of meat depravation my sense of smell becomes as keen as a polar bear coming out of hibernation. I swear I could smell the ham salad through the refrigerator door. 
But that's not the worst part of the whole deal. The worst part is the prep which consists of Dulcolax pills and Miralax  powder that you have to mix with either Gatorade or Propel. 

The name Propel seemed like a fitting choice for this operation so I bought a 6 pack of the grape the week before.  Problem was I couldn't keep Jojo out of my Propel even after I told her to stay out of it. 
I ended up having to restock when she was out of town, so I mixed up the toxic powder into 4 bottles of the Propel and prepared for the worst.
 I thought what a waste, if the procedure would have been the week before when I had the stomach flu I would have been way ahead of the game. 

So I put the 4 bottles of spiked Grape Propel back in the fridge and waited for Miralax time.
Chugging half of a bottle of Grape Pooppel at timed intervals I kept reminding myself that the prep procedure has evolved greatly since my first one some 20 years ago. 
But it's still not much fun, by the time I got 3 bottles of Pooppel down I felt the desired results had been achieved so I left the last bottle in the fridge. 
All went as well as can be expected except for one near miss early on in the festivities. 

I had prepared the half-bath off our bedroom with all the accoutrements for an extended stay. 
All had been going well, then while standing in the living room and without warning I felt like I got hit with a Chernobyl reactor core meltdown. I literally went screaming through the house with every muscle in my body clenched for all they were worth.
After that, I tuned in the Republican National Convention on the TV in the bedroom and did not leave the perimeter of the bathroom for several hours. 

Jojo was out of town so my bro- in-law Rita's husband Bob took me to the hospital the next morning. 
Knowing Bob's sense of humor I knew I would be in for a great deal of mirth and merriment on the way to the hospital due to the nature of my procedure. He did not disappoint. 
When they wheeled me to the O.R. I looked on the table, there was a long black snake with a steering wheel on it. 
There was a radio playing softly in there and I immediately recognized the tune. It was Naserath's Love Hurts. I said "you know, I really don't think that's an appropriate song for what I'm about to go through. 
The doctor and nurses cracked up and the doc said "at least it's better than Another One Bites The Dust". 
Good point doc!
They got ready to slip me into Wonderland, they don't usually knock you out for this deal. They use Versed, pronounced (Ver said), it's kind of a legal date-rape drug, usually you have little to no memory of the procedure. 
I told the nurse with the hypo "don't be stingy with the pixie dust, this is one memory I don't want to savor. 
They obliged, the next thing I remember was the sight of Bob's big grin. Everything came out alright and I left the place with one less thing then when I got there. 

When I got home I saw the left over bottle of Pooppel in the fridge. That began a long struggle between my good side and my dark side that had me envisioning Jojo grabbing what she thinks is my Propel and chugging it down. I tell you for hours that day, I had an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other,  weighing the pros and cons of this plausible deniability. 
She was still out of town and the whole thing would look like just a silly accident that we could all laugh about some day. Yeah but how long would it take for that day to arrive? You see my quandary. 
In the end I appealed to what Lincoln called "the better angels of our nature". Or it just may have been what Shakespeare's Falstaff  meant when he said "Discretion is the better part of valor". 
Whatever it was,  it ended with me pouring the Poopel down the drain with a devilish grin imagining what might have been.