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Sunday, February 17, 2013

Sunday morning musings

My game, my life, my routine has been blown all to hell of late.

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to meet my father. But after the years turned into decades and the decades amounted to a half century, I would have been content to just know what had become of him. And now that I finally know what has become of him, I’m still coping, I’m still trying to believe it.

I spoke to a lady who works for a logging outfit out there in Alsea, Oregon. It sounds like the old man has been a real pain in the neck for her and her coworkers. He cuts trails across and builds bunkers all over the clear-cut zones, still, she has yet to lay eyes on him. He’s a ghost.

And she’s a really nice person, as are all of the people I’ve spoken with from Benton County, Oregon.

But enough with all of that.
Dad's Alsea playground

I see that Baroke Oblahblah thinks we should do away with pennies because it costs millions and millions to produce them.

Yet, by the time his disastrous run is over, the United States will be twenty, possibly, most likely twenty-two trillion dollars in debt. “Debt overhang,” anyone?

Clueless.

Oh, and he thinks we should raise the minimum wage, because, to hear him tell it, that proposed raise would help the “working poor.”

More importantly, it would lead to automatic raises for unionized labor, the backbone of the political party currently bankrupting our country.

Priceless.

Get it? Priceless?

Does anyone remember when something as simple as the towing of vehicles did not lead to tumult, chaos and controversy in the City of Wilkes-Barre?

I am so, so, so sick of it.

I watched every video of the meteorite that landed with a mighty thud in Russia. Fascinating. If you’re a Democrat, not so fascinating, just proof of solar warming or some such newfangled gibberish.

Anyway, if I lived there in the frozen morass, if I had witnessed that spectacle, I would have been absolutely convinced that the U.S. had finally attacked the iced-over motherland.

One of these days.

I’m still chewing on this one: My favorite birthday gift of all time.

Which, predictably, led to…my all-time favorite Christmas present?

Jeez oh Pete!

And then there was the “prettiest girl” thing.

Me? I’ll go with Natalie Wood.

Later

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