HOW TO SURVIVE A MAJOR ECONOMIC CATASTROPHE

How could you survive a major economic catastrophe in the U.S.? I'm not talking about recession like we saw in 2008 or anything close to that.  I'm not even talking about the Great Depression of the 1930s when the stock market crashed.  Think in terms of total meltdown where government goes totally bankrupt and everything we now have that can support a decent lifestyle goes away.  So, the answer to the question is:  You can't survive it.  You won't have any options at that point but to go down with the sinking ship.  You might survive in such a crippled system for a while, but not for long.  It's an end of time scenario, at least the end of a time when you could keep living.

The good news is that's not likely to happen, but many are saying that we could still face catastrophic conditions.  We'd suffer through it as best we could, but life would become much more difficult.  Most of what brings enjoyment in life would go away, and you'd have to make major changes in you lifestyle.  You'd go into a survival mode, something a growing number of Americans are experiencing now.  Life should be more than survival.  Some, in fact, wouldn't even call it life.  But let's say our economic demise was less catastrophic.  This would set up a situation where we'd have to redefine catastrophe.  Some would consider losing a home and nice cars catastrophic, but others would adjust and go on with life at a more moderate pace.  That's not survival; that's adaptation. The problem here is that few in our society are taught to adapt, especially if that adaptation is a move down in economic and social rank.  We won't handle an economic downturn well because of these always upward or hold your own attitudes.

Perhaps you've noticed, but when money gets tight and resources become depleted, people turn mean.  When a society turns into a hold on to what you have situation, this sets up a grab what you condition.  It's you against the world, and you do what you have to to keep what you've worked to get . . . and that is usually a battle you can't win.  And the winners?  That would be the biggest dog in the fight.  Banks, for instance, won't lose as long as they can control the money.  Nobody in the corporate world is going to lose and long as the have what you need.  In short, you're the little dog.
So, how do you survive this?  That's a personal choice, and no one is qualified to guide you through it.  But it's like this with me:  If the house is on fire and out of control, I'm leaving it.  I'll forget about everything that will be lost and save myself and family.

And . . . I'll never live in a house made of wood again.

Can You Soar Like An Egale in a Flock of Buzzards?

Nothing in life is more frustrating than trying to soar like an eagle in a flock of buzzards.  I've seen sparrows chase off hawks, or even pigeons roost with chickens, but I'll expect to see a lamb lie down with a lion before I see an eagle buddied up with a bunch of buzzards.  That's the way any truly intelligent person should feel if elected to the Congress of the United States.  When it comes to buzzards, we've got them in Congress.  We've also got a few hawks, an eagle or two, and even some parrots.  And as you know, a buzzard is most at home around dead things, like . . . even a dead country.  They can't kill it because they're not up for that, but they can sure make it sick.  The death blow will come from Congress itself when it finally commits suicide.  They'll do this in the passage of some truly idiotic laws.

But forget politics and all the stinky stuff that goes with it, and concentrate on how you'll react if you're not a bottom feeder.  Will you try to rise above all the decay and soar above it?  That won't work because everything must come back to ground sometime.  That's when you get your feet dirtied. Consider this:  What about flying to where the landing will be better, where you don't land in deep shit.  Is there any such place within flying distance?  Yeah, there is, and nicer places.  I've got my sights set on Mexico, but the places to pick from are abundant.  Considerations about distance should be conditioned by the benefits of finding a better home, and we live in a world now where that's less important.  Here's a country you might overlook because of negative publicity - France.  But they have heavy taxes, you'll be told.  The country is eaten up with savage terrorists, they'll tell you.  The water is bad there, and it's socialist, and the people are unfriendly.  Remember (and don't forget this), most of this information comes to you via the American news media.  Do you trust them to tell the truth? They're the ones who pumped you full of bullshit propaganda about how wonderful the U.S. is, so keep that in mind.

Do your own research; it's easy to do.  Make comparisons, and then make judgments.  You'll find that the good old U.S. is a long way behind many other countries in any number of things.  Then make decisions based on what you can learn, and how much you can afford.  Don't neglect looking at countries that are much smaller than the U.S. because good efficient government, stable societies, are easier to create there.  Norway, Austria, New Zealand, and Chile are good examples.  Someone asked me about Uruguay not long ago.  I couldn't give a glowing report, but from what I know it it, some possibilities exist there.  There's always Panama, Ecuador, and Costa Rica, or you might like some of the far eastern countries.  Stop listening to all the chatter about unstable governments and take a look at your own.  Pay attention to costs of living elsewhere and make comparisons.

Ajijic, Mexico, on Lake Chapala south of Guadalajara, is full of American expats who're living on much less than half what it costs to live here.  Check out the youtube videos, look at realtor sites, talk to people.  The more you know, the better equipped you are to leave here.  I think mostly about location.  I can drive from my home in one long day all the way to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.  I can move possessions and precious animals there, or any place in Mexico, with greater ease.  I can live there on one fourth what it costs me to live here.  Do what's most doable, something that's important to someone my age.  If you're younger, the broaden your search, explore other places.  And don't wait too long.  Time isn't critical at the moment, but a year from now the situation will be worse.  It's best to leave before you get caught in a bad bind.

DID YOU THINK YOUR VOTE WOULD MAKE HIM SAMRT OR SANE?

Just three weeks in after winning a narrow victory, and one that's being contested on several fronts, Trump is being himself.  He's still ranting, accusing and blaming, making idiotic appointments, and showing all signs of a failed presidency.  And he will fail as President, and almost any fool could've seen that.  But you didn't, Trump voter, and there's no mystery in that.  You didn't see it because you're just one of another dumbed down citizens who somehow thought your vote would make a nutcase fool either smart or sane.  And your vote did neither because he's still the same.  A leopard doesn't change its spots, and neither can he.  A bigger question is where do we go from here?  You don't have to be Einstein to see where this is going - down.  How long that will take is more difficult to predict, but it won't take long.  Here's why.
   
The same demented voters who put Trump in office did so for all the wrong reasons.  They did it because they hated a woman more than him.  They did it because they wanted change in the direction government was headed.  The did it because they're either ignorant or stupid, take your pick, and they'll get part of what they want.  Change will come, but it won't be good, especially for the Trump voter.  He won't get a wall built, and he won't create jobs . . . but he will carry through on his pledges to make life hard on illegal immigrants, or any immigrant, and he'll carry on with his misogynist ways and stupid ideas about how to boost an economy.  And, he most certainly won't stay out of trouble because he never has before.  He's going to be an enormous embarrassment, almost as big an embarrassment as is the Trump voter.  The only good thing is that you'll get what you deserve, while the bad thing is you've inflicted some misery on an entire nation.

And a year from now, if God exists and actually gives a shit about me, I'll be living in Mexico.  And that's the only favor you Trump voters did for me.  I can at least thank you for finally building a fire under a reluctant old man.  You even helped win some support for the move from others who've been reluctant to move with me.  Few things are no win situations, and where they's will there's sometimes a way.

A PESSIMISTIC RENAMING OF THE DAYS OF THE WEEK

Sunday, actually the first day of the week but treated as the final day.  We should rename it Sumday, a day for summing up, reflection.

Monday, seen by most as the first day of the week, and the worst.  We'll rename it Mumday, a day to keep quiet and adjust to a new work week.

Tuesday, a somewhat nondescript day, but we'll call it Tubeday, the day we take it in the ass, which keeps us from recovering from Mumday.

Wednesday, called "hump day" by many, should be renamed Whensday, a day of healing from taking it in the ass on Tubeday.

Thursday, the day before Friday and often the worst day, should be named Turdday, for obvious reasons.

Friday, the look forward to day when we're preparing for the weekend, should be called Fryday, a day when you eat anything fried. It's burgers and fries day.

 Saturday, big weekend day of relaxation or recreation, should be called sasserday, talk back time.

My favorite day is Friday, but that's because I'm retired and don't have to worry about a steady job anymore.  No, I've still got a steady job, but it's now my job, not their job.  That makes some difference, but Friday is still a good day.  But why should Monday be a bad day now?  I don't have to worry about getting to a job site, so what's up with that?  I just don't like Mondays.  My next favorite day is Wednesday, and it's no longer hump day for me.  It's still the middle of the week, a day to feel good about Monday and Tuesday being gone.  And, with Friday just two days away, it's time to plan for the weekend.  I'd like to add another day or two to the week, but that would screw up the calendar. I don't keep up with months or years.  They come and go, so why bother.  It's all about the moment, right?

NO PARDON FOR THE TURKEY OR THE PIG

In a fit of weakness, I changed my mind about Thanksgiving and had the big meal with family, at my daughter's house.  She worked too hard on it for me to just ignore it, so the turkey and the pig didn't get a pardon from me . . . and I feel a little guilty about it.  I gobbled down the usual fare, the traditional Thanksgiving food, and without shedding a single tear.  I ate pecan pie for dessert, visited with family and a few friends, and then came home and collapsed into a post-feast coma.  This is when you watch football on the tube, something you can do in a coma.

But, it's the day after Thanksgiving, and I'm in a slow recovery.  I won't eat much at all today, and that's good.  And I most certainly won't go shopping on this Black Friday, which I see as an event for morons.  I'm not a Christmas person, so there's no reason for me to get excited about shopping.  I got over that a long time ago.  I sat up most of the night working on a book I should've finished ten years ago, but it kept calling me out.  Time gives a writer a different perspective on an old manuscript they quit on.  For one thing, I can't remember why I stopped working on it.  Maybe I just got lazy, a malady of the mind that comes over me from time to time.  Maybe I didn't like the direction the book had taken, but that's forgotten now, and I have new ideas.

I've developed all kinds of book characters over the years, and some of them have been animals. I've written stories about dogs and cats and horses and even once about a remarkable cow.  Long ago a writer told me to write about what I knew best.  "If cowboys are your best friends, write about them." I was a college professor for a long time, but I've written only one story about a professor . . . and he was a drunk.  I've written lots of stories about cowboys, but I'm tired of doing that now.  I like stories about ordinary people who get caught up in extraordinary situations.  And what do I know best these days?  Old farts.  So, this new book endeavor is about a retirement village full of older people, and it's based on the notion that if you must get old, then do it with some good humor.  If you can't laugh at it, old age will kill you.

You know, of course, that old age won't kill you.  You hear it all the time, "Well, he just died of old age."  Well, he didn't.  He died because something wore out, or he got sick, or he slipped on a bar of soap in the shower and hit his head.  Old age didn't kill him, but sickness or injury did.  And yeah, I know that old age brings those things about.  We almost always cooperate with death, just let aging take it's course and eventually rub us out.  I wanted to create characters willing to say, "Ok, I know your coming sooner or later, Grim Reaper, but I'm not just going to sit here and wait on you.  If you want me, you'll have to run me down 'cause I'm going to still be moving."

JUST HOW BAD CAN YOU SCREW UP AN ELECTION? WE KNOW HOW

In the year 2016 we're still running presidential elections based on a plan set in motion by men who died two centuries ago.  Does that make sense to anyone?  It shouldn't, but we've still got a system based on state by state vote counts that determine who wins the electors from that state.  And each state gets as many electoral votes as it has representatives in Congress, meaning two senators from each state and whatever they're entitled to in the House of Representatives based on population.  So the state of Wyoming gets three electors for a tiny population of less than half million people.  Less people vote there than in a small section of a large city, but they get three electors.  The total popular vote total in this dimwitted election plan means nothing.  Does that make sense to anyone?  On several occasions the winner in the electoral college lost the popular vote, but still, they became the President.  This just happened again when Trump lost the popular vote by more than two million votes.  He won the entire west other than the west coast and a few states, and then more populous states he won were usually by squeaky think margins where voter fraud could have been part of the game.  And so, this all means that we ended up with a pussy grabbing, lying, cheating, unqualified, blabbermouth as President.

Trump was right about one thing - elections are rigged.  They're rigged by a crooked press, the media, and by idiotic state elections laws governing how votes are cast, and by a dumbed down voting public stupid enough to believe almost anything.  I'm not sure fixing the voting system would do much to fix the class of people we now have trooping to the polls, but doing that would at least make it more democratic.  The electoral college needs to be junked and the winner should be the candidate with the most popular votes.  It should be a matter of who won it all and not who won what state.  I've never been a fan of the federal system, which means I've never cared for states.  If you want to build a nation that can take care of national matters, get rid of state sovereignty over things like elections.  In national elections, we should have national rules that all government units abide by.  There can be no national direction as long as the nation is fragmented by different rules of governance.

I'd offer a solution for this, but it's a mute point.  The insignificant state will fight tooth and nail to keep their place in an electoral college, and since it's a political issue, it won't die easily.  And, we'll always be at risk of getting bad leaders.  A lot of people understand this but want no part of trying to change it.  We don't even seem to learn lessons the hard way, and somewhere in all of that, logic is lost.  It's so simple and easy a fix that we can't see the value in it.  Does everything have to be complicated?  Just count the votes, dammit, and do that in a way fraud is reduced . . . and you've finally got a winner that deserves the office.

THANKSGIVING IS FOR GIGGLES AND GRINS . . . IF YOU'RE NOT THE COOK

It's that time of year to feast on turkey and all the trimmings, a traditional thing to do, but without enough thanks to the cooks.  It's hard work for somebody but giggles and grins for everyone else.  In recent years, we've taken a stand on that sort of thing and have dispensed with the cooking.  There'll be no big feast here this year, like last year when we went to a Chinese restaurant.  The turkey gets a break around here now, and we may never do it again.  The cook gets a break too, and she's thankful for that.  But I have memories of Thanksgivings past that are worthwhile.  I think most families have a way of personalizing Thanksgiving, like in my growing up years there was also shrimp gumbo prepared by my Cajun uncle.  To me, that was the best part of the meal.

I love Thanksgiving food - the turkey and dressing and cranberry sauce and fancy vegetable dishes.  I love the desserts and the day with family and friends, but we all get old sooner or later.  Family members drift away and have their own families to tend to, and that's the way it should be.  As my wife and I aged, so did Thanksgiving as it moved to other houses where the kids had settled.  One year I drove through a snowstorm to get to the feast, and said on the way home, "Never again."  I broke that vow a time or two, but even though all I have to do now is drive across town for the feast, I'll bow out and leave it to the kids.  We might stop by later on, but the giggles and grins have gone out of celebrating the feast now.  I think that comes from understanding that one day a year to give thanks for the lives we have isn't enough.  Why not do it everyday?  And does it have to be a feast to remind  us of what we should be thankful for?

Giving up a special holiday might not seem like much of a sacrifice, but this was always my favorite holiday.  I'm not a Christmas person.  The commercialization of that holiday ruined it for me some time ago.  We haven't had a tree or decorations around here in a lot of years now, and the giving of gifts turned to just some money to special people to buy what they really wanted.  We forgot what Christmas is supposed to be about.  I've also considered the possibility we've really forgotten what Thanksgiving should be about, which makes it less essential, just too much fuss and bother.  I'll be thankful today, that's for sure.  I'll push aside all the things that bother me and think of the good things, and not just for today.  Maybe Thanksgiving should be about the promise of a better tomorrow, something that's not easy to feel good about sometimes.  Here's what I'm thankful for:  I still have some life left, for however long it lasts, and I still have choices as to how I'll live it.  That should be enough.

AN EXAMINATION OF FREEDOM FROM THE INSIDE OUT

From the outside, your freedoms look pretty good, and that's because they are nicely packaged.  You know how that works; it's all about the wrapper these days.  And they're broadly outlined in a Constitution that was written back in horse and buggy days and now are applied to a high tech society.  But, that old Constitution looks good and is revered by many and held in the same esteem as the Bible. Rights, or freedoms, even sound good when you hear them read aloud, like the right to keep and bear arms.  Right, arms.  Is that, uh, a single shot musket, or a submachine gun?  How about the right to free expression, like speech and press?  Try that one on for size and see how it fits.  Freely express you thoughts and see what happens, even if that right is protected by some vague law.  And, you how the right to worship as you please.  Uh, huh?  Put a big metal statue of a bull in your yard and start worshiping that in public and see what happens to you.  Here's the upshot of it all:  All rights, or freedoms, are relative and not absolute.  You don't have an absolute right to do anything but die. Wait!  That's not right either.  If you blow your brains out in a fit of depression, you could be prosecuted for first degree murder . . . were you still alive to be prosecuted.

These things are somewhat reasonable, but it gets worse than that.  You have the right to move about freely, right?  Well, just partly right.  If you travel and drive a car, you must have a registered car with insurance and a license to drive it, and if you cross state lines, you might be subject to checkpoints which determine if your vehicle is mechanically correct, like it's equipped with air pollution equipment not required in your state.  Weights and measure change from state to state, and so do traffic regulations you must abide by.  What this means is, you're nowhere near being free as a bird.  You have a right to ownership of property, but that too is subjective.  You can title it in you name, outright own it (owe no money on it), and still be subject to a bevy of restrictions as to what kind of buildings you may have, how they are constructed, and lots of other petty requirements.  And if you don't do these things, they fine the crap out of you.  And even once it's built, the government will assume they're in partnership with you and demand taxes on it.  Yeah, sometimes big taxes.

I could go on and on about living in America, but the more I point out to you about freedoms, the more you'll see how restricted these rights really are.  Did the thought ever cross your mind that you are the government's meal ticket?  They extract money from other sources, but you're the main target.  Government is notorious for being unfair about taxation, leave big loopholes for the rich, let the poorer classes off easy on income tax, and stick it to the moderate wage earner big time.  And the U.S. government isn't the main culprit here; it's the states and localities digging into your pocket these days through property taxes and various other levies.  And there's a great propaganda machine in place here that convinces you that all of this is fair, it's just the ticket you must buy to ride this great train to freedom.  In effect, what it is, dear citizen, is a ripoff.  Your freedoms are strictly limited, the government does little to protect you against even worse corporate ripoffs, and that makes you the turkey.

Does that sound to you like a well functioning democracy?  Uh, no, but don't worry about it.  This country hasn't been a democracy for a long time.  It's a system run by and for the vested interests, the top tier of society, and it's a ripoff for almost everyone else.  And apparently, you like it that way, or are willing to tolerate it.  The good news is that this won't last forever or even for much longer.  It won't end with a revolution of the oppressed masses, but it will eventually die from bloat . . . you know, greed.  This is what has brought down most great empires, rot from within.  If you start sniffing the air, you'll smell it.  It's already here, and that means it's just a matter of time before the beast finally dies.

MORE ON THE LOGIC OF LIVING IN MEXICO

I'm absolutely amazed at the number of people who refuse to move anywhere, even away from a city that's been treating them unkindly for a long time.  "But I grew up here.  I have friends and family here.  My roots are here," I've been told time and time again.  And my response is usually, "What are you, a tree?"  Well, apparently, most people are indeed trees, too rooted to move . . . and they suffer lots of indignities to keep their roots firmly planted.  If you use logic, face facts, you come to the conclusion you need to be more like a bird that's free to fly.  A tree is a wonderful thing, but it has lots of limitations.  It can't move, for one thing, and that means it must stay put . . . and at the pleasure of things that want to use it.  Trees, squirrels, cats, and a bevy of other creatures love trees, but so does the lumberman.  He'll chop you ass down in a heartbeat and saw you into lumber, and why? Because in the spurious society you live in a tree is worth more dead than alive.

So, consider yourself a tree and take note of what happens to you.  Unlike the real tree, you're a tree that can be chopped down slowly, a limb at a time.  You're there for the taking.  Government, corporate American, and the society you live in are going to chop away at you, leaving perhaps only enough of you to stay alive so you can grow new parts to chop off.  Government is going to tax and regulate the shit out of you, and Corporate America is going to whittle away at your income like drug crazed termites.  As for society, it gives up very little that's free.  Getting an education is costly, and churches always want money, and those pesky charities are always after your bleeding heart money. The grocer is going to gouge you with price increases, and the mechanic is going to rip you off when you need a car repaired . . . and it goes on and one.  Is it any different anywhere else?  Well, not many places, but at least you can cut into the amount of loss you'll incur by leaving this country.  I've investigated costs of living all over the world, have taken note of where expats have gone, and have made some startling discoveries.  After all the research, I've found the best place for cutting back on oppressive costs of living is right in our own back yard - Mexico.

You won't save much, if anything, buying property in Mexico.  Americans have pretty much taken over the real estate business in Mexico, and wherever Americans go, the dollar becomes the bottom line.  Yeah, that's more of corporate America at work, even if you leave home for Mexico.  You won't save money buying automobiles there either, and your savings in food costs will be only marginal . . . if you keep up the same lifestyle you lead here.  But, you can kiss the other outrageous costs of living goodbye.  Mexico doesn't bleed it's citizenry for taxes, especially property taxes.  The cost reductions are drastic.  You could easily go from paying ten grand a year here to just a few hundred bucks a year there.  Bye, bye big utility bills too.  Cost there are a fraction of what they are here.  You can actually afford to see a doctor regularly, and dental care is much cheaper there.  And the care aspect of medical care there is just as good or better than it is here.  But will I be safe in Mexico?  In most Mexican states, the answer is yes.  The states that run up crime statistics in Mexico are close to our border, usually, and many places there are safer than you can find here in the U.S.  Will I be treated well there?  Most expats say yes, exceptionally well in most cases.  But don't believe me, do your own research.  You'll find a completely different story than the constant bullshit our news agencies here have been feeding you.  And then stop being a tree.

BUT, WE DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD HAPPEN THIS FAST!

So, where did you think the dumbing down of America was going to lead, just another long line at the check-outs at Wal-Mart?  Did you expect more mud races, tractor pulls, rodeos, and goat cook-offs? No, you expected education to get cheaper so your dumbed down kid could get a watered down college degree, or maybe somebody would offer you a job you could do at home.  Maybe you expected morons to show up at the voting precincts and cast reasonably intelligent ballots, but that didn't happen either.  And for you mind-still-working crowd, you didn't think this would happen so fast, did you?  Well, it did, and the ugly clowns are taking office soon.  And already, the low class display of ignorance is on display as Trump picks advisors and other officers.  All the ass-kissers are lined up waiting their turn to become court jesters, and the despicable press corp still refuses to cover what's real news.  In case you've missed it, your country is being taken over by right wing extremists, and that means (be sure you get this part) - you're screwed.

That's the bad news, so here's the really bad news.  You've been played for suckers in the worst sort of way, if you're a Trump supporter or a loyal Republican.  You're now the chumps of all the world, and you've inflicted your ignorance on an entire nation.  You didn't think, you just reacted.  The Democrats didn't field a good candidate, but in your muddled mind you calculated bad against awful and did what?  Holy shit, you chose awful.  Look, we all know that having to choose between Democrats and Republicans give us two choices - either vote for a dipshit (democrat) or a dumbass (republican).  I've got news for you all you good old boys and gals:  Dipshit is better than dumbass, but you voted dumbass because that's what you are.  You are now well represented in Congress and the Executive Office, and before long the Supreme Court.  And that won't mean anything good for you.  Jobs you think you should have will disappear faster now than the leave America trend that started some time ago.  Your dollar will shrink in size and you entitlements are now in jeopardy. Over half the families in America draws some form of entitlement from the government, and lots of those people voted for Trump.  That being the case, you just might be the bird that shit in its own nest.  Trump isn't going to give you a better job because (guess what?) you're not qualified.  Foreign labor is cheaper, and they work harder, and the products they make turns out to be pretty good . . . and that means, you're screwed.  More and more companies are bailing out here, headed for Mexico or some place they can get goods made or produced by people who really want to work.

Education will take a big hit from these ugly clowns, so don't look for any progress there.  Law enforcement will continue to get worse, just at a more rapid race.  The drugs coming across the border won't stop coming, but the illegal workers might . . . and that means crap city for the construction industry here, and for agricultural labor as well.  If the wall Trump promised really goes up, conditions with Mexico will deteriorate, more bad news for us.  In short, there's little to no good news on the horizon, and it's all your fault, you nitwit voters.  Let me say it again:  You chose awful over bad, and that's stupid.  And the sad part?  You won't ever figure it out.

WILL YOU LET FEAR KILL YOU, OR RUIN YOUR LIFE?

I wish I'd been more courageous as a younger man, but that's just water under the bridge now.  If life were like a blackboard and I had the eraser in hand, I still wouldn't rub out the bad decisions I've made.  I don't want to go back and do it again, am ready to accept the direction some of those bad decisions took me.  In your twilight years, bad decisions can haunt you, but along with them come some good things I don't want forgotten.  They're too much a part of me to turn loose of, and in fact are perhaps things that make me what I am.  Hindsight is sometimes a better view than looking down the road ahead.  Uncertainties abound, but you have no choice but go forward.

Most of my fearfulness is due to love.  Not much can happen to me to make me fearful unless it happens to someone I love, and that's the great anchor in life.  It holds you in place, can even enslave you in a prison you want no part of.  You can't expect your dreams to be shared by those around you. They often can't envision what you can, and they don't want to listen to you talk much about them. What you see as practical sounds ridiculous to them; this is often the case.  I'm not talking about fragile relationships here but rather long term affairs that have brought some real meaning to your life.  Only a fool would give that up for a dream.  But we're all fools from time to time, and the real fool is the one who quits on a dream because they can't share it with those they love.

Examine, if you will, just what love is, or is supposed to be.  If someone refuses to share your dream, or in fact dismisses it as a trivial escapades into the world of fantasy, they are disrespecting your vision. That's not love.  I don't know what it's called by others, but I call it selfish love.  I'll love you if . . . you see it my way.  If someone chides you, ridicules your dream, the disrespect deepens, and the love becomes less that true love.  Love requires of us respect, some trust, some understanding, but it also requires some resistance to foolishness.  It's out of love that a parent punishes a child for being foolish; it's out of love a spouse might point out the foolish direction you've taken.  But to anchor down and refused to budge when an idea is presented to you, foolish or not, is disrespectful.  And you can't say, "I'm doing this for your own good."  You're doing it for your good.

I just finished a book about a man love killed.  He had a vision his wife wouldn't share, would not budge, wouldn't even bend an inch.  And like many men would do, he tried to live with what she wanted.  An overpowering sense of duty held him in place, and so he kept living in a miserable situation until it overpowered him . . . and he took what he saw as his only way out, and put an end to a life he could no longer tolerate.  He never came to realize that his wife would've preferred him dead and in a grave at home than alive and happy somewhere else.  He let his love for a selfish, fearful woman kill him because he knew he'd never find contentment anywhere else without her.  So, why couldn't he be happy staying right where he was?  He envisioned a better life, had a dream, and it wouldn't die.  You might argue he killed himself over the love of a dream, a foolish idea, but you still can't explain away the actions of his selfish wife.

So, why would I point this out?  Listen, dammit!  Don't turn away from someone who loves you when they dream.  You can disagree, try to point out the foolishness in the dream, but don't anchor down and refuse to listen.  Here's the upshot of it all:  If you can't share a dream with someone you love, consider the possibility that it''s not really love at all keeping you together.  Obligation and duty are wasted when you lose the real anchor, that of love that's shared . . . and respected.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE A BILLIONAIRE?

How about going on an adventure to Whatiflund, a place where you could let your imagine run wild?What about going there with lots of money, enough to indulge your fantasy while there?  What would you do with an almost limitless supply of money?  You might find that you would do more practical things than you think you might, like creating a place that's unlike anything you can find here in the U.S.  Enter Hiram E. Butts, billionaire industrialist and the creator of Whatiflund, a real place and not just a wonderland.  Hiram had enough money to build anything that struck his fancy, and he knew the people who could get it done.  Everyone has toyed with ideas of what they would do with big money at their disposal.  I've dreamed of living in expensive houses, driving high dollar cars, traveling to places around the world, and living a high life . . . but I no longer want any of that.  If I had millions of dollars, I'd still drive a car like I own now, and I'd live in a house much like the one I have now, and I most certainly wouldn't travel the world.  But would I build a village where life is different than anywhere else?  Damn right, and I'd do it with lots of imagination.  And as a writer, I can build anything . . . even without the money to do it.  I'm going to build it in Whatiflund.

Once upon a time I studied to be a manager, took up the study of public administration, thinking I might end up being a city or country manager somewhere.  I scraped that idea in favor of a career in teaching, but I know some things about how government should be managed.  Almost any real student of public administration looks at the American system as a disaster zone, a place where politics takes precedence over practical management.  And we have to train people in this country to adapt to that style of management.  If you look beyond the confines of that, you'll find places and people who do it much better than we do . . . not just a little better, but a great deal better.  The U.S. is dregs of good management, almost top to bottom, and we all pay a big price for that.  In short, as a citizen of this country, you've been screwed by inefficiency.

What if government did function more efficiently?  What would life be like without all the oppressive demands from government on its citizenry?  Forget the oppression of income tax; it's not that bad. It's bad enough, but it's nothing compared to the other levies we're forced to pay.  You get doubled dipped every time government gets a chance.  Federalism is a fraud, this duplication of function idiocy we've created that only loosed more tax assessment and collection on our society.  And what do you get back for all that money?  Uh, would that be freedom?  Bullshit.  That's just bullshit to keep you paying out the ass.  If you check it out, you'll find free people living all over the world without all the tax pressure, or if they do pay higher taxes, they're actually getting something back . . . like decent health care coverage, or good educations, or an infrastructure that's maintained - the things you're not getting.  I'm pushing hard to get out of here and be free somewhere else, but in the meantime, I'll keep writing stories about places like Whatiflund.  I know these places don't exist in real life, but if we lose vision of what could be possible, we've lost everything.  And we're getting there.  We need to stop looking at the world around us from the top down, or the bottom up, and work toward finding something in the middle.  And we can't do that very well when we're neck deep in all the refuge our current system dumps on us.  We can still look up, and maybe that's where the answers are found.  I don't know anywhere else to look.

LOOSE STRINGS

Should I keep a tight rein on this horse, or does it not need that?  Some horses need the bit in their mouth, and maybe a tight rein at times, but others don't.  I knew a cowboy once that rode his horse with just a pigging string around its neck, and did just fine with that.  These days, I keep lots of animals, too many to keep a tight rein on most of them.  We're talking cats and dogs here, and like people, each of them is different.  I have cats that are dependent, won't allow much control and must be left to fend for themselves outside.  That's the way they want it, and so I allow it.  And then there's the come and go cat, the one who wants inside for a while, and then wants to run free for a while. Petie, one of my calico cats, is like that.  She's antisocial with other cats, fights with them, and they all know she's easy to get riled up.  Petie accepts the house only when she's in my wife's bedroom/bath area.  Only three cats are allowed back there, and Petie is one of them . . . when she's inside.  I just went into the yard to get Petie out of a tree.  One of the outside cats was picking on her, so I shooed him away and she came to me.  And there Sparkle, a mottled black cat that's just not people friendly.  She lets me know when she need something, has made friends with the outside cats and hangs out with them.  They all stay close to the house, have comfortable places out there to sleep at night.

But . . . dogs are the crabgrass on the lawn of life for animal lovers.  Dogs are dumber than cats, and are more dependent.  I tolerate them because they're usually more lovable.  Nothing can love you like a dog, and that's a fact.  I've also got lots of dogs, and they're a lot of trouble.  One dog can screw up more than ten cats, create most of the problems around here . . . and I've still got 'em, so what does that say about my intelligence?  I've got a cow dog, a cocker spaniel, and a shitload of ornery little terriers.  They should call 'em terrorists.  The military should use them as attack dogs, if they ever start a war with midgets.  I figure that's coming sooner or later, big headlines, U.S. DECLARES WAR ON PYGMIES."

The world of animals is pretty much like the world of people, perhaps at a slightly higher level of intelligence.  With an animal, we can blame rude behavior on instincts, that survival of the fittest, natural selection thing.  With people, it's usually a product of aforethought.  I think animals are learning from us, though, and that's not always good.  There's a conspiracy going on around here about feeding time.  So, the dog goes to the cat and says, "If you'll knock that bowl off the counter, the old fart will come and clean up the mess and feed us."  And the cat says to the dog, "Ok, I'll do it, but you need to go bark and stand by the door so I can run outside when the old fart opens it."

I've never claimed to own an animal, but now I'm wondering if they don't own me.

THE JINETES: THE HORSEMEN OF HERRANDURA MESA

You are a photo-journalist investigating a legend about a haunted mesa in New Mexico, and you've been in a deserted village at the base of the mesa all night . . . waiting, and talking to rocks and shadows.  Are you really dealing with ghosts, or what are these mysterious horsemen you've seen? Yes, you've been here before with other men, and you've seen the horsemen as they rode through the old village like uncontrolled wildfire.  You know the stories of other men who've had contact with these ghostly horsemen; men who say bullets won't stop them.  But you've come to the mesa with a message:  "Come and meet me.  Come and see that I mean no harm."

And you wait, spend nights there in the old village, until finally . . . a man steps from the shadows and asks, "Who are you, and what do you want?"  And you tell this man that you came to find out who he is and what he wants, and that you come in peace.  A short conversation takes place, and you suddenly discover that this man is no ghost.  He comes from a place called Erailes, or wastelands, and he is a Jinete, a rim rider in a separate dimension.  And you realize you are talking to a man who can step across dimensional lines . . . a sort of cowboy time walker.

And so, this is where the story of Matias, the rim rider from Erailes starts.  This book is about the discovery of another dimension, another place very much unlike what you know here in the U.S.  It is about your adventures there and a great friendship between you and Matias.  But you are also caught up in circumstances in your country that become more distressing as time moves on.  You watch an election unfold, all the while seeing how close to disaster your nation is moving . . . and with a growing desire to leave.  You go to Mexico to hunt for property.  You start to develop an escape route, and you have the money to do that.  When Trump wins the presidency, your mind is made up to move to central Mexico, and you buy a house there and start the process of leaving the U.S.  But you can't do this without giving up some things.  Your only way to Erailes is through a portal only one man can create for you.  You can't leave New Mexico until Matias knows where to find you, how to create a gateway from his dimension to where you will be in Mexico.

Yout story is also one of dealing with all the problems that come with leaving America - like taking a wife with you, one that is reluctant to leave.  It's about people who'd like to go with you but can't because they're trapped by situations and circumstances.  And as a writer, you become more convinced than ever that this story must be told.  Few readers will believe what you have to say about separate dimensions, strange horsemen, or even government, politics, and society in this country.  But some will, you decide, and so you start a book that can only be finished when your story is finished - the transition from here to there, a dream fulfilled.

In this book, you the reader are the time walker, the traveler.  And even if the physicists are wrong about the fourth dimension, that time can't be mastered and there's no chance to travel to another dimension, there is still one dimension open to you.  It's a dimension with closed doors you'll have to learn to open, and it's called The Dimension of Wonder.  It starts with, "And I wonder what would take place if . . . "  How would I feel if my time suddenly changed to someone else's time, in another place my imagination knows nothing of . . . until I experience it?  And so, you ponder the question long enough, until finally, the gateway swings open, and you are there.  Read Jinetes.  I'll wait at the gate for you.  I have been there.

FEAR: LIFE'S BIGGEST OBSTACLE

Everyone is afraid of something, like perhaps spiders or snakes . . . or spinach on you plate.  These are little fears, so what about the big ones?  That varies from person to person, and is dependent on various situations and circumstances.  I don't have to worry about going out in public in small town American, but that can change with a move to the city.  But I don't worry so much about the things that can physically hurt me, not even death.  But taxes worry me, and I have to deal with that all the time . . . and that makes it a constant worry.  You can't spend money and avoid tax, and you can't earn money without it, and you can't even spend money on something (like a house) a not have to worry about it.  Government taxes what you earn, when you spend it, and even what you spent the money on.  And, since we live in a federal system, several governments get a shot at you.  I worry about the cost of living but no longer in amazement.  Everything costs too much, but at least I understand why. I worry about getting sick or injured because of the costs involved.  If you think health care costs in America are fair, what you need is a good dose of the system.  Have a heart attack, and then be amazed when the bills start pouring in for open heart surgery.  If seeing bills that amount to half a million dollars get your attention, you've gone one coming.  I knew a man who's cancer treatment exceeded three million dollars, and he lost a ranch over it.  The thing is, none of that strikes fear into my heart anymore.  What it does is piss me off . . . big time.  Better to be pissed off than fearful.

Tis better to be pissed off than pissed on, and everyone out there trying to make you fearful is actually trying to piss on you.  Our news services, the press, constantly feeds you a line of bullshit about how some foreign invasion is going to consume you.  Idiot politicians want you fearful, as does perhaps your teacher or preacher or your health care specialists.  Some fear is good, but too much of it, especially when it's displaced, is stupid.  So, I go to the hardware store and run across some redneck with a pistol strapped on his side like I'm living in the wild west again . . . because Bozo Billy Bob has been watching Fox News and thinks ISIS is in the parking lot.  Churches fill up on Sundays with people terrified they'll die and go to Hell if they don't praise the Lord . . . and drop a few bucks in the collection plate.  And, we just elected the Bozo of all time to the presidency in this country because . . . we were afraid of all the spooks and goblins.  Makes me ponder the question: Just how stupid can fear make people?

I'm tired of living around frightened people because fear makes them stupid.  I can see being afraid of a poisonous snake, but I cannot see how some poor Mexican looking for a job is going to hurt me. Oh, wait, that's not just a Mexican looking for a job, he's a criminal or a dope dealer.  Uh, so?  Like we don't already have plenty of them here already?  But that dope destroys minds.  Uh, like we've got a lot of great minds up here to be destroyed?  If the dumbasses had a functioning mind, they wouldn't be buying the damn dope to start with.  So, I can see the harm in some drugs, but we drink shitloads of booze here, one of the worst drugs of all . . . and it's legal.  It's even revered.  And you're worried about somebody puffing weed?  Are you nuts, or maybe bat shit crazy?  When's the last time you saw a crazed ISIS warrior running down the street with an automatic rifle?  No, you can't count the guy you saw at the mall wearing middle eastern clothing.  He might've been born here, like so many of your ancestors were.  Here's a little story for all you ain't we wonderful people.  A town here in Texas ended up with lots of Vietnamese people, and the good authorities of that town found a way to zone them off in once section of town.  And in time schools were built there so the Vietnamese kids wouldn't be crowding into the regular schools . . . you know, the ones where local kids went to school.  The Vietnamese village schools not only excelled, they won all the awards for excellence, sent more kids to college on academic scholarships than any school district in the state.  So, how do you like them apples, all you frightened people?

So, here I sit, an old man now and not afraid of much.  I'll still step around a poisonous snake, and little old ladies driving big SUVs in a parking lot concern me . . . but I'm not afraid of some foreign invasion.  Nothing much scares me now because I'm pissed off, and the thing that pisses me off more than anything else is - you, the frightened American.  Fearful and dumb and carrying a gun?  Holy Shit!  I should be scared to death.

YAVAPAI WIND

He was almost 80 years old, his only love in life was dead, and he had nothing to look forward to. And so, he sold his home and moved to a care facility in hopes he'd die before long.  But he didn't die and instead met a remarkable woman who showed him how to recover some of his lost vitality.  The most boring man on earth, by his own description, had found some inspiration to keep living . . . but in Mexico.  And so, he moved to Alamos, Mexico to finish out what he thought were just the last few years of life.  Instead, Alfred lived to be 103 years old.  He became a wood carver, a guitar player, a caregiver to animals, and he found a woman who became a late life lover and friend.  And in the end. he was far from being a boring man.

Yavapai Wind is the story of a man who came from true Arizona pioneer stock.  He grew up in the foothills of the mountainous area near Prescott, and he worked for the Post Office Department for most of his working years.  He never married, but he lived with a half Yavapai Indian woman for 35 years, until she died of cancer.  Alfred lives with ghosts - his woman of many years, his grandfather, father, mother, and others who'd passed away.  And he lived with the ghost of a life he'd spent being boring - a good man, but a man with few interests in life other than his woman and small home in Cottonwood, Arizona.  Alfred's ghosts provided the motivation for him to keep living, as they visit him from time to time in flashbacks.  "We live out of duty and obligation for those we love while they are still with us; we live after that to honor their gift of love that kept us going," he said, as he neared the end of life

The book examines the town of Alamos, Mexico and a group of American expats who lived there.  I do some things with the story I don't often do, and that's feature characters from other books. Yavapai Wind is almost a coming together story of people with different backgrounds and reasons for moving to Mexico.  As with most of my novels, this one includes several strong woman characters.  Although Alfred is elderly, he is surrounded by much younger people in Mexico, and some of them become important in his life . . . and this is because he not only adopts cats and dogs; he adopts people. Writing this book was taxing in some ways because it involved some hard charters who come in contact with a loving and considerate old man, and in that regard, it becomes a tender story. The story is purely fictional, but it is based on accounts of people who left America at an advanced age and thrived in Mexico.

I didn't write the book with an intent of getting involved in a sociological study of a family, but it happened.  I also had to examine some of the failures in American society to show that life in a much less sophisticated society can often be just what a person needs.  I didn't intend to attack anything in particular that has gone wrong in America, but when you find something better, that comes to light. Although this is a book of fiction, the various realities of life in both Mexico and the U.S. are factual. No particular point(s) are stressed in the book, but a common thread is that life is life and is relative to what lives it.  No big lives, no small lives, just life . . . and what it becomes is what we make of it.

PERCY B. HAND AND THE VILLAGE OF HIRAM'S COVE

Hiram E. Butts had a dream - a retirement village for people who didn't want to be swarmed over by corporate America.  And since he was a multi-millionaire, he built one and laid down some strict rules about living there.  This book came to mind when I decided that old age is a serious difficulty, and the best way to handle it is through a humorous approach.  I created Percy B. Hand, known mostly as Uncle Percy, quite some time ago, but I moved him to Hiram's Cove.  Percy became somewhat famous as an animal welfare activist.  Nobody would've paid much attention to him, but he got into a fray with some dog fighters in his home town.  Some of them went to the hospital after Percy pinged them on the noggin with an aluminum baseball bat.  He's been known to whack other evil doers with his famous pinging bat . . . and he's likewise spent some time in jail for doing it.

But Hiram's Cove has other interesting characters, like Chuckie Phat Nuygen, a Vietnamese immigrant turned cowboy.  Guzbo Lizzard, a Cajun writer, also lives in Hiram's Cove.  In fact, the village has attracted quite a few unusual characters.  You'll find few signs of corporate America in Hiram's Cove - no Wal-Mart, or Costco, or even a national chain auto parts store.  No McDonalds, or Burger King, and no fancy pharmacy you find in most urban malls.  If you want that stuff, you have to ride the bus to a bigger town not far away.  If you want medicine, get it from an old time drug store.  The village is not designed for rich retirees, nor does it try to attract them.  It's a blue collar place, with blue collar attitudes for the most part.  But the main character in this book is Uncle Percy, and he's always up to something.

Percy once got arrested in Austin when he took sides with homeless people, something that city has plenty of.  Cops hauled him to jail for standing at an intersection beside a pile of broken bricks holding a sign that read, "A buck keeps me from chunking a brick through your windshield."  He also got involved with a select group of abused women, or more precisely, strippers.  He took their side when law enforcement cracked down on a barber shop that employed naked lady barbers . . . and he went to jail for that too.  Percy makes a little extra money selling signature aluminum bats, like "the educator" for teachers dealing with unruly students.  His animal abuser bat is called, "the butthole basher," and he has a new bat out for whacking mouthy Trump supporters called, "the Trump thumper."  I think you'll like Percy, and I know you'll like Hiram's Cove.  We'll be on Amazon with it before long.

"HEY, LET'S ROB A TRAIN, YOUTU?"

Yontu is actually a word in Texas.  It's like saying, "Hey, let's go get a burger, yontu?"  I'm finishing a book at the moment about a retired oil field worker who wants to leave his troubles behind and move to Mexico . . . and at the age of 75.  The problem is, he doesn't have any money other than social security and what he can make from part-time jobs.  But Dewey Crockett, my ornery redneck semi-hero, has allies to help pull off his escape from a country he can no longer abide.  Dew, as his friends call him, can't stay out of trouble long enough to enjoy a normal life.  He fights back, and that doesn't fare well in a society that likes to bully dissenters.  His story is a modern tale with an old time twist when he and some of his pals become train robbers.  That's right, they robbed a train and stole a bunch of dope money.  You'll have to read the book to find out how they did it.

The Old Outlaw is a book of humor, but the storyline is about as serious as life can get for some people.  Does life get any better for our man of the hour in Mexico?  That's not part of the book, but the reader can speculate that he most probably did.  My job as the writer was to get him there.  How he fares out is up to him . . . or maybe, a sequel book will spell that out.  One of the major heroes in this book is a strong-willed woman.  Without her, the old outlaw never would've made it to Mexico.  She's bossy and no fun to cross, but she's the glue that holds the story together.  I like writing about women like that because I'm married to one.  I've got the perfect character prototype for that right here at home.  She hasn't read this book yet, so I need to promote it a little before she does.  It might take some time for my fingers to heal, if I have any left to heal.  

Picture this:  An old man with a salty disposition who takes care of dozens of dogs and cats, lives in a run down house in a dying oil town in the brush country of Texas, and is a devoted anarchist.  His friends are a hodgepodge of misfits and scoundrels, and he has a girlfriend who'd attack a gorilla it it pissed her off.  He's a master welder and can build his own escape vehicle, a big pickup modified to go almost anywhere.  Though poorly educated, he's smart and computer literate.  And, he's fed up with America.  His sights are set on Alamos, Mexico, and he has a contact there willing to help him relocate.  And like I said, he's full of laughs.  The Old Outlaw is a fun read, I think.  I know that because I had fun writing it. 

ROBICHAUX: THE NOWHERE NEST

Several years ago I started working on a novel, the idea being to do something I've wanted to do for some time - write a book about a gunfighter.  Yeah, a big time shoot 'em up story about a pistolero who'd make Clint Eastwood blush with embarrassment.  But, I wanted a different storyline, a different setting than just the old west . . . and so, I invented a character who shows up in Mexico via the French Army.  Right, a French/Moroccan named Felid Robichaux, just 17 years old when he runs away from a defeated French force and goes to Texas.  But my book ended up being about his life after his days and a famous gunman in America.  In his fifties by then, he decides to move to central Mexico and live a peaceful life.  But he gets caught up in the Mexican Revolution that started in 1911, so my book turned into something of a historical novel.

Doing research is nothing new for me, and I enjoyed digging into the history of Mexico.  Crops won't grow unless you properly work the soil first, and the same is true of a book.  Characters won't come alive for an author unless he creates the right environment for them.  I needed a place where Robichaux could come alive, and I found that in the ghost town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. It wasn't quite a ghost town when he arrived there around 1908, but that once magnificent city was close to being abandoned.  Robichaux's story there is also the story of that town's resurrection, the start of it becoming what it is today.

So, the book has lots of action, and some descriptions of bloody gunplay and war.  But it is also a story of gentle people, of kindness and love, and the development of relationships based on that.  I found it hard to write about a man who'd killed many men but still had a heart of gold.  To do that, I was required to dig into the psyche of someone capable of great charity, but at the same time be capable of killing another man in the bat of an eye.  I got the idea of doing a gunfighter book from watching videos of modern day shooters.  One fast draw pistol expert can draw a single action pistol, fire at and hit five objects, and it .8 of a second.  Amazing.  Another video I've seen is of a man tossing six quarters into the air and hitting them all with a pistol.  Also amazing.  And if that can be done now, why couldn't a man over a century ago have done that?  Just how fast were the gunfighters of old?  That's the nice thing about fiction.  I can make him as fast as I want to . . . and I did.

Felid Robichaux marries late in life, adopts children, organized an orphanage, becomes a community leader, and even rubs shoulders with prominent government officials.  He becomes respectable, not just feared, but nothing he does overshadows what he was best know for . . . the best pistolero ever to set foot in Mexico.  The book also gave me a chance to use my knowledge of handguns, rifles, etc., and to even learn more about them.  And I've never shot a pistol at anyone . . . except on the pages of a book.  And I didn't miss the target often either.  I'm hoping the book does the same thing.

AN ERA OF ANTI-INTELLECTUALISM

Intellectual is a nasty word in America, almost as bad as some vulgar words often used here.  It's better to be called an asshole than an intellectual.  To common stock Americans the two words are almost synonymous, and often used together, like in "asshole intellectual."  Common sense, however, is a highly revered term, and the insinuation is that people who have this common sense are smarter than intellectuals.  Common sense people believe that intelligent, well-educated people are devoid of common sense because they don't know how to do mundane but practical things. To some extent, this is true because intelligent people are smart enough to find ways of getting around the common sense things. This high intellect person might have a Ph.D. in physics but can't even find the air filter on his car engine.  A dumbass can, so that means he's got common sense.

Philip Wylie, the great sociologist, once decried common people as "no good, common son of bitches."  He pointed out all the bad things common people do but pointed to their one great asset - the ability to occasionally rise above the commonplace.  Common sense is in actuality a hotel for ignorance, so we'll call it The Hollow Head Hotel.  If you want reservations to stay there, you'd better start well in advance because the line is long.  Commonality is in itself a vulgarity, could well be the nastiest word in the English language.  Ignorance is blissful only to the ignorant, but they revel in it . . . and now, it has actually taken over government in this country.  Look out world, the hollow heads are at the wheel.

Ignorance can be treated, but stupidity can't.  The saying that there ain't no cure for stupid actually comes from stupid people, and we have a lot of them around.  We can excuse them to some degree because their ignorance is justified.  What to do with them is another question altogether.  As for the ignorant, the cure is through actually learning something . . . and you can forget learning through common sense.  Most of these people are ignorant due to their reliance on common sense.  So, I can change an air filter on a car motor, work at a factory job, even learn a respectable labor skill, but what then?  What sort of world view can a person like that have?  What kind of participant in the democratic process can a person like be?  Well, a common sense one.

Here's how this sad scenario plays out:  Common people just elected a lowlife to the presidency and sent a flock of fools to Congress.  Even common sense should've told them what a mistake this was, but they didn't see it.  Practical sense, therefore, does not equate with the concept of common sense.  It's just stupid sense, or ignorant sense.  We've never really appreciated our intellectuals in this country, but now we've ushered in a new era of anti-intellectualism, and the results will not be good.  But this presents a challenge to people who are smart, have good educations and can claim to be an intellectual.  What do they do now?  They are now the forgotten class in America.  They need a home where their points of view are accepted and appreciated . . . or are at least tolerated.  They won't find that here.

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE AMERICAN EMPIRE

History has taught us some hard lessons, and the study of our history has taught us wrong.  The rise of the American Empire, a term almost all Americans shun, did not come about like we've been taught to believe.  The basic parts of the settlement and building of this country are fairly close to being correct, but most history books we've been introduced to here leave out the parts about empire building.  First off, we never were the democracy we claimed to be . . . if democracy is defined as a nation where leaders are selected through a fair and properly functioning electoral system.  America has never gotten around to extending the vote to all eligible citizens.  Woman, for instance, had to struggle hard to get the right to vote, and that didn't happen until we'd been a nation for almost a century and a half.  Blacks didn't get that right until the 1960s and 70s.  The way we vote, how elections are handle, is still badly flawed.  These facts alone disqualify us as a true democracy.

But we became a powerful country with the world's best military, and we developed a thirst for world domination.  Not conquest, mind you, but domination through more subtle devices.  We've done well at this, even to the point where how we do here economically sends shock waves around the world. When we go down, almost everyone else goes down some too.  When we start wars, or get involved in them, we drag other nations into the fray.  If you study the rise and fall of other empires in world history, you find that similar patters developed here in the U.S.  We rose, and now we're declining, and that's not happening because of outside influences.  We blame the decline on just that, the outside influences, but the sickness that eventually kills most empires starts within.

We've always been international bullies.  Being good at diplomacy isn't enough to have influence over other nations, but when you operate with a backdrop of great military prowess, the diplomacy gets a big boost.  The sword is mightier than the pen.  A close study of America's military history shows that we've been involved in some kind of international intervention about once every 18 months.  One world watch organization says the U.S. has killed more innocent citizens of other nations over the past fifty or so years than any other nation in the world.  Even mild mannered and cautious Obama has sent over 500 deadly drones flying during his presidency, more than ten times the number his predecessor used.  The message is simple:  Don't fuck with us.

But here at home, we have some serious internal problems.  Our legislative branch of government, Congress, has become non-functional.  Executive power has risen, and court are bogged down and working poorly.  State and local governments do no better in most cases, and this means we're a mismanaged nation.  Taxation is burdensome on some American classes.  The top few percent of Americans dominate the financial landscape.  Our educational system is floundering, producing less competent people now.  The society is declining, moving from a middle class base to lower classes filled with ignorant people less capable of taking care of themselves.  This is a serious situation for any nation that wants to remain an empire . . . and the bottom line is that we most likely won't retain that status much longer.  The collapse of the system is not assured, but some major changes will take place.  You most often get what you deserve, and the fall from empire status, will be painful.

The old joke is that the fall doesn't hurt, but the sudden stop at the bottom sure does.  I don't think our decline will go down like that.  We'll die like all sick things, just slowly waste away and finally croak.  When that happens is anyone's guess, and that won't be a good thing for anyone.  We may be despised internationally, but they're going to miss us.  Perhaps the time has come for all nations of the world to do like any considerate person would do with a sick friend, gather around and do what they can to nurse them back to health.  But it needs to be like a physician tending to a desperately ill patient, saying the words, "You have caused your own illness, and you must change.  If you don't adopt a more healthy lifestyle and take better care of yourself, you will surely die.  I'm here to help you change, and the choice is up to you."

WHAT DO YOU WANT? PART II

Were I a young man, I'd be looking for a job with a company who would send me abroad.  I'd tell them right up front, "Send me anywhere, I'm ready to go."  Experience is the root of all knowledge, and can be a life adventure so critical to finding out what you really want.  Were I even young enough to be college age, I'd be looking for a place to go in a foreign country.  Some colleges in Mexico have started English language programs, but it would be neat to pick up another language like Spanish, French, or whatever.  If my job, the way I earned money, could be done at home via computers, I'd find another country to do that from.

There's a guy out there, former military officer turned international voyager, who posts blogs from countries he visits.  After visiting some fifty countries, he chose Tibet as home base.  That's not for me, but at least it's an adventure.  Most Americans are ignorant of world geography, have no idea where most countries are located.  I took on the study of world geography as a hobby many years ago, so if someone mentions Uruguay, I know where it is and a little about it.  And I talk to people all the time who've never heard of Morocco, think it's some kind of pottery or weird hat.  France is in the news all the time, and when I told a friend where it was located, he said, "I thought it was an island."

One of my favorite students from back in my teaching days was a man, a former army officer from Iran, who was sick of being called an Arab.  He'd politely explain that he wasn't an Arab but was Persian.  "Iran, Iraq, what the hell's the difference?" a question he often got.  When the summer olympics were going on in London just over four years ago, the news covered some of the sites there. They interviewed a Beefeater, one of the top guards at the Tower of London.  He was asked what the strangest question he'd ever been asked was, and he said a lady from Texas once asked him if the Tower of London was where they kept Snow White prisoner.  He said no, that Snow White was fiction.  As the woman walked away with her husband, she was overheard saying, "I know that's where she was a prisoner."  That left me shaking my head.  She just had to be from Texas, my home state.  And the sad thing is, I could walk down on main street and tell that story to someone, and they're probably ask, "Well, was she?"

My advice is to free yourself from the confines of ignorance.  Learn geography, and if you can, do it in person.  You might find some place that feels like home, and it might look even better to you if the home you knew here is falling down.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

One of the most asked question is, "What do you want?"  The questioner might not phrase it that way, but that's what they mean.  And the sad fact of life is that you (or I) can't answer the question.  We might try and end up listing some things we'd really like to have.  I want a lot of money, a good job, a nice home, country club membership, a sports car, or even tickets to the Superbowl.  Perhaps the question should be rephrased:  "What do you really want?"  At that point you might say something like satisfaction, or more freedom and independence, or discovery and adventure, or even just a peaceful existence.  Money can't buy that and anything you can acquire from money can't buy it either.  These are things you have to hunt down, maybe even take chances to get.  In other words, you have to be brave in the face of adversity.

Money isn't the root of all evil.  Money is just a tool to create evil . . . or to have some of the intrinsic things worthwhile to you.  Used wisely, money is a way to achieve happiness, satisfaction, a peaceful existence free of major strife.  And you don't need a lot of it to get there.  It's when we get greedy that brings us down.  Whether or not you realize it, you live in a world full of strife . . . and more.  It's a beautiful world in a physical sense, but the societies living upon it are often ugly.  American society is ugly, even butt ugly.  A circus procession looks different if you're not the lead elephant, it has been said, and that's true.  From the top of the social ladder, America looks pretty good, even beautiful.  If you're just half way up the ladder, no so good.  And if you're down near the first few steps, it looks butt ugly.  More than half the people living in this country are either bottom rung or beneath the half way up the ladder mark.  Sometimes is is no fault of their own, but sometimes it is.  Different people have different ambitions, but it often comes back to the question:  "What do you want?"  Based on what statistics and evaluation tells us, the answer is, "Not much, just give me what you can."

The various level of social strata in this country can be divided into upper class (very small), middle class (shrinking), and lower class (growing by leaps and bounds).  A further breakdown would be upper upper class (less than one percent), lower upper class (perhaps five percent), upper middle class (white collar), lower middle class (working class), upper lower class (working class), and lower lower class (nonworking class).  When asked to place themselves somewhere in this scale, most people choose a class one step higher than they really occupy.  Economic downturns most dramatically damage the middle class and upper lower class, and that's where the government takes most of the money from taxes.  And you live in a business world looking to ship those dwindling jobs out of the country.  More and more companies are announcing moves to Mexico, and the government does little to discourage this.  I'm not sure they can do anything, given the state of affairs currently existing.

And now, as if things weren't already bad enough, there's been a right wing coup in America. Disgusted with the status quo, Americans elected a morally bankrupt liar to the highest office in the land.  He's busy picking staff, cabinet members, etc., and there's no good news coming from that. Liberals will fight back, but they've never been good at being an obstructionist group. The country won't recover from this for quite some time, and the results could be disastrous.  I don't expect outright disaster, but there's going to be a lot of turmoil in the economic system.  Here's the question again:  "What do you want?"

We'll all react in different ways, but my way is to answer the question with a single word:  "Out."

I know there's no Garden of Eden out there, no Shangri La, no perfect place.  Life should be about more than survival; it should be about actually having a life.  I have one goal, to live out my life as free as possible - free of oppressive taxation, free from burdensome utility, insurance, and regulatory costs, and free of other high costs of living.  Mexico offers that, and that's where my sights are set.  I want out, and that's not asking for a lot.

IT STARTS WITH A DREAM

A good friend told me not long ago that what I needed was a plan, that a dream wasn't good enough.  But it all starts with a dream, that imaginary thing you want badly and are willing to invest in. My friend's suggestion is well taken because the dream needs to have some framework, what he called "a plan."  I laughed when he said that, told him that at 75 years of age there was little use in making plans.  He said do it anyway, and with the expectation I'll live long enough to see it through.  Get a five year plan and work on that, and if you're still alive at eighty, get another one.  I could be 35 years of age and still be facing the same thing.  Time is guaranteed to no one because chance and fate take care of that.  My odds are better as a young man, but none of us should be caught counting down days.  

My batting average with dreams is not good.  I'd be lucky to have a .200 average, but I'm a good fielder and I run the bases well.  I might not get the whole dream, but I sometimes get part of it.  I once dreamed of living out west, somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.  I didn't get that, but I got close enough to enjoy them for a long time.  I dreamed of living in central Texas' hill country, and I got that . . . and it was a dumb dream that didn't pan out. Sometimes it's better to be denied the dream.  But once here, I played the field pretty well and stole a few bases.  I got a nice home, made some fine friends, and enjoyed the area where I lived. High costs of living dulled the dream, turned it into a start reality of always living on the edge.  

But like MLK said, "I have a dream."  Still, another dream, and even at this late stage of life.  I've dreamed of no longer being a slave to high costs of living, of seeing most of my retirement money dumped into a well of corporate greed and government mismanagement.  Imagine, if you will, giving up close to $25,000 a year just on utilities, insurance, and property taxes.  Think about how far an income of sixty grand a year goes under that sort of pressure . . . when you're trying to pay for and maintain a home, drive decent vehicles, and keep the wolves away from the door.  In January, annual property taxes will be due for another year, so you can kiss well over five thousand bucks goodbye.  We'll end up owing federal income tax, and the state will take nearly 9 cents on the dollar for sales tax.  It goes on and on.

And so, I dream of a place where most of that goes away, where I'd own a home outright where taxes are tiny compared to here, where we could live on far less than half the cost here.  And, I have a plan of getting there, one that protects my wife in case I take the big dirt nap.  I work on the plan almost daily, refining it, looking at various scenarios, and thereby building the dream as the plan takes shape. My friend was right.  Get a plan and keep the dream alive.  If my five year plan works, I'll be living deep in Mexico this time next year.  And if I'm not there by then, the dream won't be dead . . . and neither will the plan.  It will take death to kill them.  

A LEARNING SITUATION: ARE WE SMART ENOUGH TO GET IT?

As a college professor for many years I often told my classes that learning is dependent on three basic things: 1) the ability to learn, 2) the opportunity to learn, and 3) the inclination to learn.  As a professor, my job was to create the opportunity to learn.  I couldn't do anything about a student's ability or inclination to learn.  My dad used to say that you can't hang flowered curtains in a barn and expect the mule to appreciate them, and he was sure right about that.  I worked hard at being a good lecturer, and I tailored my teaching style toward making sure students got the information they needed to pass tests, fulfill other requirements for the class.  On average, about seventy percent of them came away with passing grades.  Back in my teaching days, less than half the students who came to college actually graduated.  Lack of ability or inclination stopped them.  People like me, those professors who expected quality work from them, stopped them.

Education at the college level changed a lot during my 35 years in the classroom, and not for the better.  There's no way of knowing how much it deteriorated, but it went down, and this is not necessarily the fault of higher education.  Some of the problems started far beneath us, and at a level where education is perhaps most critical.  Sociologists have talked about the dumbing down of America for a long time.  Some blame it on government intervention, and so go so far as to say it was by design.  Dumb people are easier to govern, they say.  Government wanted sheeple, not people, and in some ways they got what they wanted.  We could blame this dumbing down process on a lot of things, even technological advancement.  People don't have to think anymore; they have a tiny brain in their pocket and can google anything they need to know.  The educational system doesn't teach youngster to think anymore, and what you learn from ready access is in some ways a lost cause.

Our government institutions have fallen on hard times, and our society declines with the loss of the middle class.  College educated people aren't as well educated as they were in days gone by, and our high school graduates are miserable excuses as an intellectual base of operation.  We are dumbed down now, but I don't think we've peaked.  The worst is yet to come.  Is this a worldwide trend, or is that just America?  I've done some research on that and find that it's happening other places . . . but not everywhere.  We're dumbed down in great part because Americans don't read.  They view, and that's a lot different from reading.  The nations of the world where reading is still a major thing are outdistancing us.  To answer my original question, we aren't smart enough to get it.  We're missing excellent opportunities to learn because we're no longer smart enough to get it, and we're not inclined to get it.   And that means the people who could teach us are losing interest.

NO BALLOONS AND CONFETTI IN THE TRUMP CAMP

Discord in the Trump camp as he tries to pick advisors and cabinet posts, lots of infighting there and some with the Republican Party.  What did you expect, balloons and confetti?  He's been a troublemaker from the very start of the campaign.  He's been a troublemaker all his life - a crook in business will be a crook in politics.  But you voted for him, you dimwit Americans, so he's all yours. And you voted for a pussy-grabbing, deadbeat bill payer, non tax paying liar.  You did that because you wanted change, and you'll get it . . . and you might get it for a long time, and in ways you're not going to live much.

Conservatives are good at being obstructionists, lousy at leadership, which is the reason damn few of them ever make good presidents.  You can trace most of our modern problems back to Reagan, the guy who started the decline with worn out economic ideas.  The last decent Republican president was George H.W. Bush.  I understand why Clinton lost.  Conservatives never accepted Obama, fought him every step of the way, and they weren't about to get caught with the double whammy of having a black president followed by a woman in that office.  Conservatives are heart are sexists and racists. They're bigots and blowhards against anything progressive, and they've killed the middle class.  As the intelligence pool has dried up, they get more votes.  America's slide into low class social strata continues, they get more votes.  This won't turn around in a few years; it's the new American political landscape.

I decided to be a political scientist back in college and ended up spending 35 years in college classrooms . . . wasting my time, and in some ways being beneficial to this deterioration of the society around us.  During that time the kids coming to college were less prepared for college work, and that brought down the standards in higher education.  It kept getting worse after I retired from that profession and became on observer.  I started wanting to leave the U.S. twenty years ago, or even before that.  Once upon a time I dreamed of living in New Zealand, and I've thought about France or Spain as places to live.  At one time I thought perhaps Costa Rica would be good, or even Ecuador, but none of those places are practical moves.  Mexico is a practical move, if I can pull it off, and I think I can do that.

My desire to leave here isn't fueled by a belief the system here will totally collapse.  It will keep rolling along, but it will be a bad place for people like me to live.  It already is a bad place, but it's likely to get worse for retired people on fixed incomes.  Costs of living here are getting worse, and my income won't go up.  Health care here is iffy at best, even with medicare and supplementary insurance.  Dental care is not available to someone like me, not here, not unless I want to refinance my house to get it done.  Tax is burdensome, and we live in a society that loves to fine it's citizenry. It's not just the federal government; it's the states and localities where much of the mischief takes place.  We live in a land of grabbers, takers, and not enough givers.  We all need to be free of that, but it won't happen.

But the worst of it all?  Living in a country stupid enough to vote for Trump.

STUPID LOVE

We're all guilty of stupid love.  If you love an automobile, that's stupid.  If you love a house, that's stupid.  If you love a company or your place of employment, that's stupid.  And, if you love your country, that's stupid.  It's stupid to love anything that can't or won't love you back.  I've fallen in love with a mountain before, all the while knowing that mountain was going to treat me just like it treated everyone else.  I like that, even find some comfort in it.  If you love your country because it does something special for you, that's false love . . . and it's stupid.  Government can't love you any more than any institution can.  It might do things that make life better or worse for you, but in the long run it doesn't give a hoot in hell about you.

Ok, so you love God and think Jesus Christ is the perfect hero. You pray to God and give your love to The Creator.  You think Jesus Christ came to earth to make a great sacrifice for you so that you can be saved and not have to spend eternity in hell.  That too is stupid love, and it's a stupid faith in God.  What if God does exist, really is the Great Creator, but what if he's like any other institution that can't or won't love you back?  How about this for real love: You love God because he created a wonderful playground for you here on earth, and he set you loose with a good brain to figure life out on your own.  That's reason enough to love God.  If God really did that, his expectations for mankind were too high.  Mankind has proved to be anything but special when it comes to its treatment of the playground, the environment around us.  If God really kept up on how we've managed things down here, we'd all be in deep shit.  I love the bumper sticker that says: "Jesus is coming and he is pissed."  Given our track record, he has a reason to be angry.  He did die for us, you know, and we've even managed to screw that up. 

Love is never a good gift if it comes from someone who puts conditions on it.  I'll love you if . . . you treat me well, or jump when I say froggy, and give me money, or whatever.  I'll love you if you'll love me back.  That makes you somewhat of a phony lover. Want something that will love you unconditionally, get a dog. Otherwise, buck up and accept love that's conditioned.  If you worship a God that requires love from you, what do you have? Well, you have a God that loves you within conditions.  Have no other god before me, don't do this or that, and make sure you have made a profession of faith.  Otherwise, you're lost . . . and damned. But you love Him anyway, and that's stupid love.  

I'm an agnostic, but I still talk to God occasionally.  It doesn't hurt to ask, "Are you paying attention?"  Personally, I don't know for sure that he is.  Maybe the best prayer of all is a silent one with no request.  How about a prayer where you just stand in one spot, and do like a kid back in grade school.  Hold up a hand and offer just the thought - "I am here, and I'm ready to deal with life.  Thanks for the gift."

INCENTIVES TO LIVE IN MEXICO

If you're retirement age, or even if you're not, here are some incentives to leave the U.S. and move to Mexico.

First, forget all the press reports you see in this country about Mexico.  They're for the most part bogus when it comes to crime. It exists there but if you're selective about where you go there, you'll be fine.  Read the blogs of people living there, Americans who bailed out here long ago. 

Second, forget your vacation experiences there, if any, and think in practical terms.  It starts with a simple question:  Where would I be better off there?  

Third, make cost comparisons.  As an example, here's my monthly adjustment between here and there:

Insurance costs here - $850                $350 there
Utilities here  -  $800                          $100 there
Property tax here  -  $450                   $20 there
Care of animals here - $600               $200 there
Cost of housing - about the same both places
Transportation - about the same both places
Food costs here - $400                       $200 there

Starting to get the picture?  Just those few things amount to more than $20,000 a year.

A LOOK AT THE FUTURE: A LEFT WINGER'S VIEW

Liberals, or progressives, think what's going on in America now is just another national swoon; you know, like a national brain fart where the stench won't last long.  They're wrong.  Winds of change will not blow this smelly situation away, and the national mood that brought it on won't change in the near future.  I could cite all sorts of reasons why that's the case, but here's just one for you - the despicable press we have in this country.  America isn't just a dumbed down society because educational institutions have failed us; it's because people have been fed a steady line of propaganda most of their lives.  They bought it.  The press gave us Trump because they made him, and they consistently did a hatchet job on Clinton.  Not only do you now have Trump and the prospects of the worst presidency in American history, you've also got the press and the propaganda.

The dumbing down of America has now started to peak.  The middle class is struggling to survive while the lower classes grow. You now live in a nation where over half the population comes from lower classes, and this means lower intellect, lower aspirations, and a much lowered concept of what's good for a country.  Liberals, like the nut case conservatives, are not immune to this, and that means we don't have as many forward thinking left wingers as in previous decades.  This country is not going to be a good place to live for quite a few years to come, or perhaps until the entire system collapses.  It's bail out time, folks, time to look for another place to live.  Well, that is unless you're a bottom feeder or at the top of the food chain.

What happens here in the U.S. creates situations elsewhere.  A prominent economists just predicted a wholesale downturn in the economy here, and he predicts it will send shockwaves around the world that could cause a worldwide depression.  We always seem to hang on words like "could."  And most people are convinced that won't happen, that it's just more talk from the intellectuals . . . and intellectuals, you know, are shunned in this society.  Put plainly, if you need it that way, we're screwed.  The dumb-asses have taken over, are now at the wheel, and that's like letting a chimp drive a super car.  There's no way this turns out well.

Do what you want or what you must, but I'm bailing.  Yeah, and at the age of 75 with not much time left.  I'll leave with a dream to at least die a free man - free of burdensome economic situations here, free of control by a government run by right wingers, free of a society I can no longer tolerate, and out of the slavery this country forces upon you.  That's what it's all about with me.  I know I can't die free of everything, but I can sure die free of this country.

MEXICO: A FINANCIAL SOLUTION

If you figure an across the board move, like going to Mexico and living pretty much the same lifestyle you enjoy here, what are the savings in terms of money?  Is there a magic formula for saving big chunks of money in going there?  The answer to the first question is yes, you can save lots of money by going there and maintaining a quality lifestyle.  And, you can save big chunks of money, depending on how you go about it.  Some practical thinking is important if you plan to do that.  There's no magic formula for saving big amounts of money in Mexico, but you can do that if you use your head.

Do not overspend on a house there.  You'll find that housing, or good housing, isn't cheap.  Do your shopping well, pick out places where the best deals are available, and be willing to give up some things.

Do not move there and go hog wild because you have extra money to spend.  Do that, and you won't save much if anything at all.

Don't jump ship without a plan.  Get the best price possible for the property you sell here.  Moving expenses can eat you up if you don't plan for that.  As for me, I plan to hire it done, some big company that does that sort of thing, and I know that will cost me around ten grand.  Don't worry about small animals.  Moving them is a problem but it can be done without a lot of hassle.  

Here's my story up to now:  I'm looking at Baja California because going there can be less expensive.  Do the research, read as much as you can, find the right place.  An example of this is San Felipe, about a two hour drive from the border.  Depending on your wants and needs, you can buy a nice house there between $100,000 and $150,000.  You can even get a 2,000 sq. ft. house there for under $150,000, and you'll get a big break on all things pertaining to that house.  You'll likely pay just under a hundred a month on HOA fees, but it's worth it.  Homeowners insurance there is a fraction of what it costs here.  Your property taxes will be negligible, maybe $150 a year, and your utilities will be slight.  

In my case, a move to San Felipe would automatically save me right at $9,000 a year in utility costs, $5,000 in property taxes, and $5,000 in homeowner insurance.  That's almost $20,000 a year on just those three things.  If my properties here sell for just a moderate profit, my home in San Felipe will be paid for, so no house payments.  And, if my living expenses there, including medical expenses and general living costs, turn out to be half what they are here, I'll save another $15,000 a year.  I'll go from spending right at $70,000 here to barely stay afloat, to living on less that $30,000 there.  That's cool 'cause it's about half what we'll have coming in each year.

I full well understand that everything looks better on paper than it turns out to be, but you have to start somewhere.  I could live in San Felipe for $20,000 a year if pressed to do so.  It's all about planning, so if you're considering moving there, make sure you do that well.  Phone calls are cheap.  Rattle as many cages as you need to, and you'll get answers.