LEAD, FOLLOW, OR GET OUT OF THE WAY!

First off, don't mistake me for a mule-headed right winger who thinks brute force is the answer to everything.  I listen to the Republican candidates talk about what they'd do if elected President in regard to terrorism, and I get concerned about the future of America.  I listen to Donald Trump talk, and I want to resort to violence myself.  You know, like envisioning myself holding a loaded rifle with a scope, and he's in the crosshairs.  Got to give him credit for one thing, though - he's talking to lots of people who agree with him.  He knows how to play on people's emotions, and that's the last thing we should rely on in times of crisis.

And then, I listen to Obama talk, like he did a few days back in his short speech aimed at reassuring the public that we're not seriously threatened by terrorists, and that we will eventually crush them. Sure made me feel a helluva lot better - you know, like when you just got a refund check from the IRS for a buck and a quarter.  There might be a bit of a silver lining to this dark cloud hanging over us, and it comes from the old saying that if you're not going to lead and can't follow, then get out of the way.  Some of our allies around the world, and some who aren't allies, are now starting to realize that we're not going to commit ourselves to an all out war on terrorism.  Again, don't get me wrong and think I'm advocating that . . . but I am thinking others might well be coming around to the realization that more needs to be done.  We might be reaching a point where our European allies are not going to follow us but rather take the lead.  That's not good for our inflated American ego, but it could happen.

Our flawed policy toward terrorism and the Middle East in general helped create ISIS, just as it has helped create other terrorist groups.  But that's no reason for us to coddle them through some misguided concept, or guilt, thinking it's not nice to kill your own offspring.  We've very much like the wolf in sheep's clothing these days.  We want to present ourselves to the world as sweet little lambs, while in reality we've been the wolves of the world for some time.  My point here is that if you're going to be a wolf, and you're really not fooling anyone, then act like a wolf.

Trump gets lots of attention because he says what a lot of people think, and that should show us how idiotic we are about some things.  He's not wrong about everything, but at least he's not hiding under a sheep skin.  He gives us something to either love, loath, fathom or fear.  We should think about that, and we should think hard on it.  That guy in the Presidency would be a complete disaster.  I almost hate to say it, but I'm a little encouraged about recent events that takes us somewhat out of the picture as the world's great protector against the bad guys.  We've made some mistakes for sure, but I don't think we're the bad guys.  I'm not sure anyone in the world can wear the white hats of a good guy, but we should at least distinguish ourself as being opposed to the evil forces around us.  As various European powers take up the cause, go where we're reluctant to go in regard to the fight against terrorism, I'm encouraged.  Not much, mind you, but some, and some is better than none at all.

Can It Get Any Worse?

I voted for Obama twice, would do it again considering who ran against him . . . but I've not been pleased with his performance as President.  I'm an old college professor, retired now for some time, but I still can't stop myself from grading performance.  Obama gets a C but with a bit of an asterisk.  Here it is: *Anyone who would've had the job of cleaning up the mess left by Bush and his hoard of Republican marauders would have done no better.  So if you're naive enough to think things can't get much worse than they are now you should pull your head out of your ass and look around.  You won't have to look far . . . just at who is running for President.  The Republican pretenders to be presidential material, and lust for that job, are miserable excuses at being politicians or office holders . . . and some of them are miserable excuses as human beings.  I like a couple of them, like Rand Paul, but I don't think he's presidential material.  And then there are the Democrats . . . or should I say the Democrat - Hillary.  I shall at this point refrain from vulgarities, but I will at least say that I'd rather eat rancid buzzard eggs than vote for her.  And, I won't.

This comes from someone who's consistently voted for Democrats for a long time.  I weakened a time or two and voted for Republicans, but voting for them is like peeing your pants in a wool suit. At first you might get a warm and fuzzy feeling, but it won't be long before it chaps your ass.  I have not missed voting in a presidential election since reaching voting age, but if my choices come down to Hillary and Trump, I'm gonna miss one.  And then I'm going to call my friend down in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, an American expat who got enough of American government some time ago, and plead for help.  "Find me a house, amigo . . . and hurry.  This place is about to explode."  I think that's possible, you know.  If we have enough people here stupid enough to vote for candidates like that, meaning it will take some sixty million or so votes, the methane produced by that many brain farts will create an environmental hazard never before seen in this country.  One little spark could set it off, and I don't want to be here when that happens. And even if the explosion doesn't happen, the stench will be unbearable.

My point is that maybe we should cut Obama some slack, at least give him credit for holding things together this long.  Considering what is likely to replace him, he's starting to look and sound pretty damn good.  And that ought to make all us run to the bathroom and throw up.

REASONS WHY AN AGNOSTIC SHOULD PRAY

I once expressed some doubts about the existence of a divine being, not something a religious family wants to hear . . . but I said it anyway, expecting some repercussions.  I was a teenager at the time, but I didn't get the scolding I expected.  Instead, my mother gave me a book to read called The Christian Agnostic written by a British theologian.  I don't remember much of what I read, but the book at least gave me some insights about the credibility of doubt.  It is through doubt we seek answers, something we're not likely to do when we follow blind faith.  Now, at the age of 74, I still describe myself as an agnostic, one who doubts the existence of God.  But I'm also one who wants to believe in a Supreme Being.  I like the idea of that there might be some divine providence in our lives, and that means I occasionally pray.  Sounds foolish, right?  If you doubt, then why pray?

First, I'd like the dismiss the notion that God would turn a deaf ear to anyone who has not made a definite commitment to him.  I even start some prayers with, "Ok, if you're out there and listening, I need a little guidance here."  Praying in a selfish vain somehow doesn't strike me as being worth the effort, like asking for a new corvette, or even a raise in pay at work.  If I thought that worked, I'd be on my knees all the time.  Most of my prayers might just be short, a brief thank you. "If you did that for me, I sure appreciate it."  What the heck?  It never hurts to say thank you.

Second, praying is good for the soul.  Personally, I think praying is important to soul development, something we all need to work on.  I pray for other people most of the time when I think they need some help, and most people do, you know.  I pray for myself sometimes by silently saying, "Oh, Lord, please don't let me do anything really stupid."  I still have problems with doing stupid things, and it's not because I didn't try to do it right.  Sometimes my good intentions take a left turn where there's no road.  I'm sure you know the feeling.

Third, praying is a good way of improving your memory.  Sometimes when a little good fortune comes your way, you might look up and ask, "Uh, did I ask for that?"  If you can't remember, the answer might well be, "No, but I thought you needed it."  Actually, it might be a good thing if we didn't remember most of our prayers, since most people tend to offer them up when they need something.  My sister, a devout Christian, says she sometimes just says, "You know, Lord, you could fix this is you wanted to."  To save myself some disappointment, I don't ask for much, and I try to never pray selfishly.

Fourth, be careful what you pray for because God might give you what you need rather than what you want.  This means you should pray believing He knows best.  I like to think He doesn't really care about my every little whim or problem, and that mostly what I get in life is what I deserve.  That's not always true, but if we go with averages, it works out that way.  From a personal perspective, I don't think I deserve shitty government (which we have), outrageous utility bills, crippling taxes, and meddlesome bureaucrats . . . and I sure don't blame that on God.  If God gives us what we need, I can only assume that we all need to be praying more.

And Fifth, you should pray just because it helps you cover the bases.  In other words, if you don't ask, you shouldn't be disappointed when you get nothing.  Perhaps we should see praying as an opportunity to express some opinions no one else could appreciate or accept.  Try it on God; He's big and He can handle it.  He won't think your nuts if you say things like, "So, what's the deal with fleas, mosquitoes, and wasps?  Do we really need those things?"  Or perhaps you've just seen some dingy politician spouting talk of war and conquest, and all the while claiming to be a good Christian, and you say, "Can't you do something about this ignoramus?"  In other words, prayer gives you a chance to express some of your doubts and dislikes, and some of your joys and good fortunes.  You know, it's like talking to someone who really understands . . . and that's hard to find these days.

WHAT TO DO WITH THE TWILIGHT YEARS

I'm sure you've heard the old saying that "old age ain't for sissies."  Once you get old, you'll see the truth in that statement, and it's not just about the physical infirmities brought on by aging.  Here in the good old  U.S. of America, we turn 65 and qualify for medicare, only to discover that it's not enough to cover you against many of the health problems the elderly face.  Forget dental coverage, and if you start to go blind, that's just tough shit . . . unless you can afford the expense of taking care of all that. And even when it comes to sickness or surgery, you find that medicare often won't pay for more than 80 percent, which means you've got to get supplementary insurance.  My experience with supplementary insurance is that it gets increasingly expensive and won't cover much.  But forget for a moment the problems with dealing with physical infirmities and think just about the cost of living here in the U.S.  For people on a fixed retirement income, that's often a helluva problem . . . like it is with me.

If someone had told me that I'd end up with a retirement income of over $45,000 a year, and not be able to make it on that, I wouldn't have believed them.  Add in another forty grand from what my wife makes from social security and a job she still works at, and we still barely make it.  Yeah, right here in rural America, the hill country of central Texas.  So perhaps you're thinking we live to extravagantly, spend too much money.  Nope, not the case.  We pinch pennies, don't take vacations, don't spend a dime on recreational things, don't buy much of anything we don't need.  We don't do those things because we can't.

About this time of year my mood turns a little dark because it's tax season.  That means we'll shuck out about $6,000 on property tax, and another $3,000 on income tax (more than what they've already taken).  I wouldn't know how to estimate how much sales tax cost us this past year, but about 8.5 percent of every dollar we spent.  I could go on and on about that, but I sat down recently and figured out how much we pay each month on various insurances, utilities, and taxes . . . and it came to about $33,000 a year.  Housing and transportation costs (house payments and car), another $18,000 a year gone.  After food and gasoline and various other things are bought, we break even . . . and are lucky to do that.

I discovered, via research, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico many years ago . . . always wanted to go there.  Unlike most Americans, I like Mexico for more reasons than just an occasional vacation down there.  Mostly what I know about Mexico comes from visits to border towns, and that's usually not a pretty picture.  A lot of Mexico isn't exactly wonderful, but some places are better than others, and lots of American expats have discovered that.  Here's a for instance for you:  If I lived in San Miguel de Allende and owned a $350,000 house (which would be a nice one), my property taxes would be
about $300 a year.  Here in Texas, mine are about $500 a month, quite a difference.  My utilities there, even for a large home, would be no more than $100 a month.  That's a tenth of what we spend here.  OK, I'm no math whiz, but right off I'm seeing a savings close to twenty grand a year.  Figure in that other expenses there are much less, and the savings figure goes up.  But what about safety concerns?  Nothing much to worry about.  What about health care?  From what I read, it's good.

I wake up mornings thinking, "What am I doing here?  Am I totally stupid?  Why don't you get off  your tired old ass and go down there and see for yourself?"  I can drive all the way there, if I chose to do that, via mostly four lane roads.  I could fly and rent a car for a week.  Or, I could just accept things the way there are, bite the bullet, and stay here to die.  And all I'd leave behind would be just problems of disposal for our kids.  Oh, well, I just answered my own question.  I am stupid, but I might be starting to wise up a little.

WANT TO BE SOMETHING SPECIAL? BE A SCRIBE

My mother had beautiful cursive handwriting, and she didn't have to practice much at it.  She was taught to write that way while in school, something schools spent a lot of time on back in her day.  I came along in the school system half a century later and learned to write fairly well . . . but nothing like her style.  My kids came along and can't write well at all, but they ended up with fairly good educations.  My grandkids are handicapped when it comes to handwriting, can hardly do it at all . . . but they graduated from high school and went to college.

One of the most respected jobs in ancient societies was that of being a scribe.  Not many people were selected to learn to write, but it's a good thing some people learned to write well or we wouldn't have much in the way of recorded history.  We still have a few people in our modern society who can actually write beautifully . . . but they are rare.  School districts all over America are abolishing cursive handwriting from curriculums, saying it is no longer needed.  Needed?  Replaced by what?  Oh, I forgot, it's being replaced by keyboards and hand held gizmos.  What to know what else is being replaced?  People who can actually spell and read, and if you want to blame that on anything, you can drop that pile of poop at the feet of our modern educators.

Here are a few analogies for you: 1) We no longer have real photographers because the modern generation of snapshot takers don't know diddly-squat about a camera.  They've gone digital, and that has robbed the world of photography of some great photographic art.  These days, there is very little art to taking pictures . . . and 2) Modern high tech digital equipment has done damage to what real music is supposed to sound like.  It's good, for sure, but it's missing all the things that brought warmth and realism to music recorded the old analogue way.  Translate that to writing, and you get the picture.  If you can't write without pecking out words on a keyboard, you can't really master the language.  Education has taken big strides backward in the last half century, almost to the point where we're now managed throughout by a bunch of linguistic cripples.  Good reading goes along with good writing, and if you can't read, you're doomed to ignorance.

I'm pissed off about all this because I've been victimized along with millions of others.  The only time I actually write these days is when I have to sign my name to something, and I'm not very good at that anymore.  I wouldn't even start to present an argument that we'd be better off if everything was written by hand.  We moved past that centuries ago, to the printed word, what generation upon generation of people saw on paper.  Those words have now moved mostly to monitors, screens, tablets, laptops, etc.  But I remember well the learning experience, of how I used to pour over notes taken in class by hand before taking exams.  I remember having to write down the things I needed to remember because seeing the words take shape by my own hand caused them to stick in my memory. I've still got most of those old notes stored away.  I've got most of my old papers from graduate school, and I can still remember writing them.

And now, I've written dozens of books, all of them on either typewriters or computers using some fancy digital word program . . . and I can't even remember my own books.  You'd think they'd be stuck in my brain forever, but they aren't because in a twisted sort of way they're artificial.  I could argue that those books would've never been written if I'd been forced to write them by hand, and that's probably true.  I did considerable research on some of those books, now lost to me . . . unless I go back and read the notes I made by hand.

Want to be something special?  Be a scribe, and you'll be like few others.

FLAWED RESEARCH

Beware, all ye brethren who love to cite statistics.  The research you depend upon for your facts and figures is tainted, often wrong . . . and more often than that, misrepresented.  How many times do you pick up a magazine, newspaper, or read on the internet (for all you gizmophobes) some article starting with "A recent study has revealed that . . . .?"  Yeah, I know, and you read it and went, "Wow!  I didn't know that."  Consider this:  What you just read is more than likely just bullshit.  I use the term bullshit metaphorically, for it all the stuff you read based on research these days was actually bullshit, we'd have no further use for commercial fertilizer.  

I'm a retired political scientist, lots of graduate work and teaching behind me, and I've had a lifetime of dealing with research.  Don't get me wrong 'cause I'm by no means against conducting study to find the truth about one thing or another . . . but I've run into more false information from these research and study groups than I have real factual information.  Here's a good one for you, one you've probably seen before.  "A recent study revealed that one in three marriages will end in divorce."  That's false, just flat out not true.  I've seen studies that put the number at forty percent of marriages ending in divorce.  They reached that erroneous percentage by taking the number of marriages in a particular year and measure them agains the number of divorces.  Let's say there were 5 million marriages and 2 million divorces, and that means forty percent.  The only way you find out what the real extent of divorce is would be to track specific marriages over a period of time.  So, in the year 1990, five million marriages took place.  If you could follow each of those marriages, you'd find that after 10 years an overwhelming percent of them would still be intact . . . and after 20 years, you'd still have a high percentage intact.  We know this from taking smaller samples, like following 1,000 marriages over that period of time.  The results of all good studies like that show that the alarming results most often found in published reports is wrong . . . way off the real mark.  

I'm a cat lover, take care of quite a few of them, and I've come to recognize several entities out there who are anti-cat organizations.  Bird people, for instance, are out to get the cats under control, and I see all sorts of reports about how cats, and we're talking here about domestic cats, are destroying the bird populations of America.  And they cite all sorts of statistics that won't hold water under close scrutiny.  I won't deny that cats are natural hunters, and even your sweetest house cat is going to kill and eat a bird if it gets a chance.  I've got 16 cats here at my home (it's a large house with a big yard), and I've still got lots of birds around.  Besides, a bird has wings, a cat doesn't, and that's pretty much a mismatch . . . other than the cat is a lot more intelligent.  My next door neighbor has a parrot, a very friendly bird at that, and they used to turn it loose "to get some exercise."  And it would come to my house and follow me around while I worked in the yard.  It just jabbered away at me, would sit on the

fence within feet of me.  But the cats took note of this, and on two occasion I had to rescue the parrot from a cat attack.  Maybe you've noticed - cats are quick.  I didn't want the parrot hurt or killed, and so I told the neighbor that my cats had a contract out on her parrot.  Now, the parrot has a big cage on the front porch . . . where he sits some days and calls the cats.  Maybe birds aren't that dumb after all.

Sometimes I think they're smarter than the ornithologists who study them. 

A recent report on cats says that they are responsible for disease in deer populations.  Comes from feral cats that prey on the poor deer by giving them diseases.  I've never heard of a deer eating a cat or cat poop, don't think I ever will.  That particular study is highly flawed, as has been pointed out by a number of detractors.  Most of it was done based on statistics that showed where the deer had this particular disease, lots of cats were around.  The study badly overestimated the number of feral cats, even said that their populations were increasing.  Real research shows just the opposite.  

Even wrong research sometimes has a good effect in the end.  There's no doubt that we need to continue working toward decreasing feral cat populations.  We need more spay/neuter clinics, more pet owners who show some responsibility, and more people who understand the problem of dealing with neglected animals.  Unfortunately, we live in a nation that does very little about neglected people, much less neglected animals.  Information about any problem doesn't have to be right on when it comes to actual facts . . . as long as it points us in the right direction.  How long did it take us to understand that smoking cigarettes causes cancer, heart disease, other problems?  Or . . . have we even learned that yet?

THE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS PAST

My biggest problem with Christmas is dealing with the blues that come from too many bad memories.  At the age of 73, I should remember a lot of Christmases . . . but I don't.  If pressed into making a decision, I couldn't say which Christmas was my best, or worst.  The bad ones stick out like sore thumbs, though, and I remember them distinctly.  I spent one Christmas, my 21st, pretty much flat on my back recovering from an early November car accident that nearly killed me.  1999 was a bad one because we'd just buried my father-in-law, and other family problems added to that being perhaps the worst Christmas ever.  My first marriage ended on Christmas.  I lost several close friends within a few days of Christmas.  There's no need to go on and on about the bad ones, but the point is that they've never completely stopped haunting me.  And that usually ruins the best holiday of the year for me.

But . . . I'm married to a Christmas gal, a woman who despite all the bad Christmas seasons she's had, still throws herself into trying to make it a good time.  I'm the problem, and I'm fully aware of that.  It's hard for me to hide depression (wish I could), but this year I'm going to make myself toughen up and deal with Christmas.  Yesterday, I tried to finish up shopping for presents, and that always makes me angry.  I'm lousy at it.  I've tried giving cash money enclosed in cheery cards, have spent upwards of five thousand dollars on a single Christmas, and none of that has worked.  And, it's not them . . . it's me.

I got a badly needed lecture yesterday from my wife telling me to forget the money, forget about fretting over what I give people, forget about the past and all the bad memories . . . and just enjoy the time you have with people.  Give something small and inexpensive, she said, but give it with a glad heart . . . and nobody will care much about the present itself.  I went over to my shop after that, took care of some chores there, and then flopped down on a daybed and slept awhile.  The dream I had was about as strange as they get, visitations from people I haven't seen in many years, some of them no longer around.  But it wasn't a gloomy dream, wasn't like Scrooge's ghosts of Christmas past.  They were all happy to see me, and although the dream was bizarre, it was a wake-up call for me.  I woke up in tears, not so much from having seen people I've missed a lot, but from shame.  Yeah, just like Scrooge.

I've got two days to turn things around, see if I can make something out of what could be my last Christmas.  You never know at my age what tomorrow brings, and I don't want my family to remember my last Christmas as something that will spoil their future Christmases.  And if I have a few more Christmas seasons to live through, they will be different.  I'm not a poor man.  I've got enough money to buy people nice things, but I've never given them the thing they want most . . . me in a good mood.  It's gonna happen this year.  I promise.