Adventures of Craig and Charlie

On Wednesday, May 5^th, Charlie, Lloyd (my hiking buddy), and I set off on a one-week trip to Colorado to see our “adopted 5^th son” Jason Friedman and test-drive our recent repairs to the RV.

We had a nice run up to Grand Junction, Colorado that first day. Weather was great, the dogs were calm in the rig, we had plenty to chat about while we drove the 360 miles, and the improved suspension (5 new air bags) gave us a nice, smooth ride.

After a good night’s sleep, we headed east on I-70 toward Denver. What a beautiful part of the country that is!

Unfortunately for us, the high-fiving came to an unceremonious halt about two miles east of Vail, when the RV lost power on I-70 and I had to quickly find a wide spot adjacent to the slow lane to glide to a stop. It was obvious that something REAL BAD had happened, and some close inspection under the rig revealed that the U-joint/drive shaft (about 2’ long) had gone south on us.

(Had this catastrophe happened a couple hundred yards east, where I-70 was choked down to one lane due to construction, my dead-in-the-water motorhome would have totally blocked the interstate highway for an hour or so.)

We were lucky to quickly find a big rig towing service that could come to our rescue and haul the motorhome 100 miles into west Denver to a major trucking repair facility. The tow bill was $2,100, of which my Allstate insurance will probably reimburse a puny $250.

However, we had to count our blessings. No one got hurt, we didn’t block the Interstate (and get shot by some pissed-off, gun-toting Coloradan), and the breakdown occurred within 80 miles of Jason’s home in Arvada, where we planned to stay for 5 days anyway. So, at least we had somewhere to crash while the rig was repaired.

By Tuesday night, the repair folks had assessed the damage and had ordered the replacement part. They estimated that they could get the job done by the following Monday night. Parts and labor would be $2,600.

There’s goes our “stimulus” money!

Our trip plan had called for several days of hiking and a round of golf in the Denver area, so the only blip (an expensive one!) on our itinerary was that the motorhome would be parked in a repair shop instead of Jason’s driveway.

On Friday, the Three Amigos (Jason, Lloyd and I) went on a hike in the mountains near Boulder on the Indian Peak Trail. It was supposed to be a 13-mile trek, but we had to cut it short to maybe five miles because we ran into too much snow and ice on the trail, which started at around 10,000 feet elevation. We made it to 11,000 feet before calling it quits. It was a beautiful hike, though: spectacular scenery and a rip-roaring stream right next to the trail. Nothing like our desert hikes in Nevada.

On the way down the mountain, near Nederland, Jason got pulled over by the local cops for speeding 45 mph in a 25 mph zone. What saved him was his demeanor (he announced very quickly to the male officer that he had a gun in the car, politely showed his paperwork for concealed carry) and the fact that his license plate identified him as ex-US Navy. This seemed to be of particular interest to cop’s female partner/supervisor, who happened to be training the young male officer. The lady officer, SGT FINE-LOVEN, gave Jason some good lovin’ when she decided to just issue him a warning for being a scofflaw.

On Saturday, we hiked the Mountain Lion Trail, a 7-mile loop which started at 7,500’ and peaked at 9,000’ elevation. It was a very nice outing: some snow and ice, but most of the trail was excellent and the scenery was, again, very Rocky Mountain-ish. What a beautiful place!

Also, we crossed paths with a female moose about a half-mile into the hike. Luckily for us, she didn’t have a young one with her, or we might have gotten our asses handed to us. On the bright side, we observed many college coeds hiking in skin-tight Spandex leggings. Like I said, the scenery up here is magnificent.

Sunday was supposed to be our golf day. However, some cold, threatening weather was moving into the area and we decided against swinging golf clubs in 43-degree weather. Not my cup of tea, for sure, with the infestation of arthritis that plagues my hands and wrists.

So, we stayed in the Arvada neighborhood, walking the dog pack (our two plus Ashka, Jason’s 13-year-old Siberian Husky), doing some shopping, playing cards and keeping warm in the house.

The Arvada community, which is maybe ten miles upstream of Denver, is a very nice suburb with nice amenities, beautiful 50-year-old trees, lots of walking paths, and such. The dogs, in particular, have enjoyed the visit, as we have taken many short hikes in the community, following streams, greeting other dogs and their owners, and observing chickens, goats, and waterfowl along the way. Baby and BonBon are enthralled with all of it, and especially getting to wander off the concrete walkways into REAL GRASS. They are truly in Hound Dog Heaven.

Jason owns a 50-year-old 2,900 s.f. “fixer upper” which is fairly good shape. It is a two-level home, street level plus basement, with the square footage about equally divided between the stories. Jason is in the process of remodeling the basement into a 1,400 s.f. unit that he can either rent out or live in himself (and maybe rent out the main floor). He’s already remodeled the bedroom and bathroom down there and also converted one of the rooms into a major league audiovisual man cave with high tech “surroundsound”…in spades. (During our visit, the guys watched a marathon showing of the John Wick action movies while Charlie read a book.)

Jason is a manager with Richmond America, which is a large residential construction company that (in the Denver area alone) is building 5,000 units over a number of years. Jason manages a bunch of project managers who are responsible for about 500 units currently under construction. He is well versed in all the trades from his earlier experience with Pulte Homes and Lennar (I believe), so this enables him to do most of his home remodeling by himself at his leisure.

He’s a 48-year-old guy who lives with his dog, works hard, and is a 15-year veteran of Alcoholics Anonymous, within which he is a leader. He’s also very fit and has competed in numerous Iron Man competitions. The only thing he lacks is a good woman, and it’s not for trying. We’ve met a number of nice gals that he’s romanced over the years and they’ve all seemed to have potential. However, his life is busy, he is a very high energy guy, and has lots of intense outdoor hobbies. Most of the women he has hooked up with (online) are in their late 30’s and early 40’s and come complete with their own issues and baggage. So, maybe a lifelong female companion just isn’t in the works for Jason. It’s too bad, because he needs that extra component to complete him.

It is Monday morning now, its raining, and our RV repairs are supposed to be completed later today. We are scheduled to hit the road back to Mesquite (via a stopover in Grand Junction) tomorrow, but that will depend upon completion of the repairs and the weather, as it is supposed to snow tomorrow.

Hopefully, we can get home safely later in the week.

UPDATE: We did! Six hundred miles of smooth-sailing across I-70 and down I-15. No dropped drive shafts, no overheating, no vibrations…no nada. I think The Beast is ready for the annual RV Road Trip in late June.

Yay!

Patio Time has begun in Sun City Mesquite.

Every afternoon, Charlie and I spend some time out in the backyard under the pergola having some adult beverages, enjoying the day and the landscaping, and occasionally visiting with friends who drop by to chat.

We’ve met the most interesting people here, folks who have done a lot, seen a lot, and have earned wisdom through the School of Hard Knocks.

Last week, a girlfriend of Charlie introduced me to a fellow who she has been seeing for a month. His name is Ken, he’s a widower (his wife died of cancer), he’s retired from the mining industry (in Wyoming), and is a full-time RV’er who winters in Salome, Arizona (about 90 miles west of Phoenix).

Ken used to manage a big trona mining operation, so he’s quite handy with tools, he repairs and improves his Holiday Rambler motorhome, and also owns and maintains off-road vehicles and a truck camper unit. It so happens that his HR diesel pusher is about the same age as our Monaco Windsor, so he’s encountered many of the same RV issues over the years. I spent a half day with Ken vacuuming up knowledge from him. What a nice guy.

Yesterday, my good hiking buddy, Lloyd, introduced Charlie and I to some friends who were visiting Mesquite from the Napa Valley (in California) where Lloyd used to own a Merlot grape growing operation. His friend’s name is Curt, and he has lived a very full life, graduating from Cal Berkeley, going into the luxury home construction business, making a crapload of money, losing most of it in bankruptcy when the economy crashed, but recovering and doing well. His wife (I forgot her name!) was also a Cal Berkeley grad, was a marijuana smoking Hippie flower child in the Sixties, ended up somehow in Madrid, Spain, became a Spanish tutor, went to Mexico City in that capacity, and then helped her husband’s business thrive (they had 365 employees at one time).

We had a very nice dinner with the three of them and found out that the couple is considering moving from Napa to Mesquite. That would be cool; very nice people. And he golfs, too.

There are several single women in the area who Charlie pals around with. They occasionally have a “girls night” event where they drink and snack and tell a bunch of lies (I’m guessing!). They are all nice gals and I’m happy that Charlie can spend some quality girl time with them; it must be pretty boring listening to me all of the time.

Yesterday, I went for a ride in my neighbor Sharon’s off-road vehicle (a fancy CanAm rock climber). Sharon is a very unusual widow: she’s 79 years old, talks and acts with the energy of a 50-year-old, and is the only woman member of the local ORV club. She and the guys routinely go on trips out into the remote desert areas, leaving at 8:30 a.m. and returning at 4:30 p.m. That is a lot of sun, dirt, and noise. Those ORVs are very loud: I don’t think I could put up with the noise like they do. Sharon is lucky though: she’s almost deaf, so the engine noise is a minor problem for her. Another minor problem for her: money, I gather. She moved here from Palm Springs, has bought two ORV’s in the past 3 months, and is now talking about selling her home and moving up the street to a higher (and more expensive) location with a great view of the mountains. She is a writer who still does some classified work for NASA, according to her. So, I think she can afford it.

Later in the day, our neighbors, the Carnacellis, brought home their recently-purchased 2018 Mirada Class A motorhome. It’s a 36-footer, with a ten-cylinder Ford gas engine, and is nicely appointed. Galen, the husband, knows nothing about RV’s, so another neighbor (Al) and I have volunteered to do a short RV trip in late May to teach Galen and his wife Sherry the ropes. We may go to a “boondock” area so that Al can show both of us his wide knowledge of dry camping. I’m looking forward to that.

I picked up The Beast from Premier Truck in St. George early this morning. They replaced 5 air bags, some air line fittings, and the dessicant filter for the air ride system. I had them examine the shocks and brakes and they told me that I’m okay for now. The hour drive down I-15 in my repaired rig was quite comfortable and level; I think those mechanics up there know what they’re doing.

Later in the morning, I met my new neighbor Dale. He bought the home across the street from us that was once owned by Marcus Kline, the only guy that I know of in Mesquite that died from Covid-19. (Marcus visited Branson, Missouri during the pandemic to celebrate the life of a friend. Virtually everyone who attended the celebration caught Covid-19. It was a superspreader event, a celebration of death, as it were.)

Dale is a single guy who has a 26′ travel trailer in which he will live in the hot months, far from Mesquite, Nevada. I believe that he hails from Utah, in the Salt Lake area. Anyway, he appears to be another interesting guy who we can pump for interesting stories during Patio Time in the backyard.

It’s nice to have friends, and it’s even nicer to be able to visit with them without a mask!

---

We Mesquiters expect our first 100-degree day within the week.

It has been a fairly cold, dry and windy Winter and Spring. I’m not sure if we’ve had two inches of rainfall since last Fall. Amazingly, most of the vegetation in the area seems to have survived.

May and June should be relatively pleasant in terms of weather; we will have a lot of 100-degree days with low humidity. By the time the temperatures get up to 110, we should be on our way to Oregon in the RV.

Our trip there this year will be different: we will be meeting up with friends. Our neighbor Sandy Rose is going to rent a small cabin up in the Coos Bay area where we will be staying (Oceanside RV Resort in Charleston) for a week. Other neighbors, the Carnacellis, are purchasing an RV and will be joining us at Oceanside for a spell and then will meet up with us later when we stay in Brookings (Driftwood RV Park). Also, we will rendezvous with our good friends, the Quinns, up in Oregon.

All of us will be keeping cool courtesy of the wonderful Oregon coastal climate. I particularly like the 60 degree evenings; I really sleep good up there. The beach (which is right next door) is great for strolling and playing with the dogs off-leash. It is usually foggy or overcast in the morning, followed by sunshine and a sea breeze in the afternoon. It’s delightful, particularly when considering the alternative in Nevada.

Thinking ahead to the following year, we are again going to absent ourselves from the Mesquite frying pan in the really hot months (July and August) by heading east in May, visiting our son Jonathan and his family in Lexington, Kentucky, and then traversing the country to spend a couple of months in Oregon before returning to Nevada around the beginning of September 2022. That would be a 7,700 mile trip.

At least that is the plan as of today. As we’ve all learned from 2020, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to anyone.

So, our future traveling plans will depend upon health: our own, and the soundness of the RV. We’ve spent some money this Spring repairing and rehabbing various interior items, and the rig is currently at a Freightliner shop in Hurricane, Utah undergoing some air bag leveling system repairs. Hopefully, that work will resolve some air loos issues that we’ve encountered over the past year.

We will be taking the repaired motorhome on a “test drive” to Colorado (660 miles) next week to visit our adopted 5^th son, Jason Friedman. We will chill there (in Arvada, elevation 5,344’, where it snowed a few days ago!), do some hiking, and maybe sneak in a round of golf.

From mid-May until the third week in June, we will enjoy the Spring flowers, spend a lot of time in the backyard under the pergola, and wear sunscreen.

It’s fryin’ time again.

Charlie and I are going to watch the Oscars telecast today, primarily so that my wife can see what the celebrities are wearing.

Hollywood’s annual orgy of self-congratulation used to be a big deal, back “in the day”. Nowadays, there are seemingly a multitude of these award shows which serve to hype the movies themselves, the “stars”, and the clothing and accessory industry. The Oscars event itself has devolved into just another iteration of televised festivities that have been going on worldwide for months: the SAG awards; the People’s Choice awards; the Director’s Guild awards; the Canne Film Festival; the Golden Globes; etc.

This is one industry that like to lavish praise on itself, for sure.

I got started watching the Oscars back in the late 1950’s, as I recall. My Mom would watch them while my Dad worked on his L.A. Times crossword puzzle and later, as the show went on and on, he might read a book. The telecast was in black and white back then.

“Going to the movies” was big back in those days, because there weren’t a lot of entertainment options like there are today. Radio, television (only the Big Three networks), and vinyl disc records were the competition. As a family, we went to the movies (usually a drive-in) periodically, usually to see some “cast of thousands” Biblical epic, like “The Ten Commandments” or “Ben Hur”. My brother Terry and I used to go to matinees at local walk-in theatres to see war movies, scary stuff like “The Blob”, “The Fly”, “The Thing”, “Godzilla”, and sci-fi features like “Forbidden Planet” and “The Day the Earth Stood Still”. It was amazing that we saw much of the features themselves, as we (and our buddies) spent most of the time in the theatre running up and down the aisles acting like the pre-teen idiots we were.

I’m now in my seventh decade of watching the annual Oscars telecast, and a lot has changed over the years. Of course, Bob Hope and Billy Crystal don’t do the emceeing anymore, which is a shame, as they were the best. The “stars” sitting in the audience have become unfamiliar to Charlie and I, as we don’t go to the theatres anymore and don’t watch many of the big movies when they are released to the small screen, as they are mostly sci-fi, Marvel comic flicks, or animated stuff for kids.

I believe the last movie that we watched in a theater was “A Star is Born” with Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga, which premiered three years ago. Before that, we saw ”LaLa Land” in 2016. That makes two movies in the past five years: the industry isn’t making much money off of us!

I miss the “good old days” when real movie stars populated the Oscars audience. Nowadays, there might be a dozen familiar faces in the first couple of rows, but the rest of the crowd is made up of lightweights, technicians, and seat holders. By the time that the Oscars rolls around, a dozen other awards shows have already occurred, it’s pretty clear who’s going to win, and the also-rans don’t bother to appear. Or at least it seems that way.

All of the awards shows seem to be promoting fashion as much as the movies themselves. Accompanying the awards show broadcasts themselves are the “red carpet” pre-event showcases, in which celebrities (most of whom are inconsequential actors and actresses) show off the latest fashions, like couture gowns, pricey jewelry, and flamboyant hairdos and makeup. There are even pre-/pre-event shows, in which industry gossip experts hype the expected attendees and honorees, critique past award show fashions, and spend a couple of hours making smarmy comments and trying to act relevant. Today, the pre-/pre-event shows start at 1 p.m., then the pre-event red carpet stuff begins at 3 p.m., then there will be a final “arrivals” recap at 4:30 p.m, and the actual Oscars broadcast will start at 5 p.m.

Although the show is scheduled for 3 hours of pomposity, it almost always runs late, as award winners typically take more than their allotted time to humbly thank everyone they’ve ever known for “making this award possible”.

Every once in a while, something cool will happen at the Oscars, like the guy who “streaked” across the stage when actor David Niven was presenting. More often than not, the unscripted surprise will involve someone making a political comment from the dais…which is usually received like a fart in church. A couple of years ago, one of the presenters (an old actor or actress) announced the wrong winner of “Best Picture”, the highest award of the night. Oh, Boy, that was a mess!

Other than those highlights, the 3-hour show is usually fairly boring save the monologues by the emcees…when they are actually comedians like Bob Hope, Billy Crystal, Johnny Carson, and such. One of the worst emcees was David Letterman, a comedian who tried too hard to be funny.

It is amazing how many Oscars are awarded, of which (thankfully) only a small number are presented during the 3-hour broadcast. Many more are handed off to worthy industry professionals in another ceremony during Oscar week. Thank goodness for that.

(If you’ve ever watched the “credits” scroll through the screen after a motion picture, you’ll be aware that lots of folks are involved. I would think that being recognized in the credits would be reward enough (in addition to the pay received for work provided) for the professionals involved. For example, grips (guys who build and maintain equipment related to cameras), key grips (supervisors of grips), gaffers (lighting technicians), and best boys (assistants to gaffers and grips) all get credits for routine efforts on a movie.

Do these folks, and the food service people, and the wardrobe staff, and the “extras” who mill around a scene without uttering a line, really need to be publicly noticed for going to work each day? In comparison, when a customer buys an Apple I-Phone, he not only doesn’t get an itemized list of all the folks who worked to produce the miracle invention, but the product doesn’t even come with instructions to show how to operate it!

I digress, but thank God that the blue-collar working stiffs in movie studios don’t get Oscars for their efforts, or the awards broadcast would run all week.)

Anyway, I will soldier through tonight’s show with Charlie. Hopefully, someone will “streak”, there will be a wardrobe malfunction, or something else interesting will liven up the festivities.

UPDATE:

Wow, that was a different Oscars experience!

The awards show was held at Los Angeles’ Union Station (transportation terminal) instead of the Dolby Theater in Hollywood. There were no bleachers full of adoring fans watching the celebrities arrive in Rolls Royces. There weren’t a lot of celebrities, either. The hours-long “red carpet” photo and interview spectacle was severely muted. The big stars that attended didn’t even walk the red carpet; I think they slipped in a side door.

This was the Pandemic Oscars, for sure. Everything was scaled back, attendance was limited, social distancing was evident, there was no live orchestra, zero dance productions (thank you, Jesus!), and the whole thing was more…professional and personal. The television audience was allowed to learn a bit more about the nominees, which was nice.

The event was purposely somber. The films nominated for honors this year were more introspective, serious movies…probably a product of the times. There was no comedian emcee/host cracking jokes and setting everyone at ease: 2020 had not been a funny year, in any sense. Presenters were matter of fact and informative, although a couple snuck in some political messaging.

The acceptance speeches were boring, as usual. One fellow, who won for Best Cinematography, embarrassed himself for saying “Um” probably 30 times in a sixty second span.; I’m guessing that the so-called “professional” cameraman hadn’t prepared an acceptance speech of any kind. He will never live this night down.

Tyler Petty was honored with the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, and he gave a very inspiring speech. That guy is a national treasure; let’s get him to run for President.

Obviously, no one “went to the movies” this past year, as the movie theater chains were closed down due to Covid-19. Everything that was up for honors this year involved films that were distributed by Netflix or streamed directly to customers. Who knows how much “box office” revenue was generated by these esteemed films? How the entertainment industry is surviving is a mystery to me.

The big winner on the night was “Nomadland”, a story about a woman (played by Best Actress winner Frances McDormand) whose world is overturned by the Great Recession and adopts a transient lifestyle, wandering through the backwaters of America in an RV van, looking for work.

The Best Actor award went to Anthony Hopkins who didn’t bother to attend the subdued festivities.

Needless to say, the biggest losers of the affair were the fashion and jewelry industries, who had very little opportunity to festoon Hollywood movie stars and wannabe celebrities, as most of them stayed home in Covid-19 lockdown.

The whole affair seemed un-Hollywood like: Louis B. Mayer is probably turning over in his grave.

Is the end near, or is it just getting nearer?

Pretend that this whale shark is the Covid-19 virus and the numerous fish that he is about to swallow represent the hapless citizens of India…a very bad scenario indeed.

The Covid-19 pandemic that has had its way with the United States, Europe, and Brazil has now taken a foothold in India, the world’s second most populous country. The infection curve there is now vertical, hospitals are out of beds, the oxygen supply is exhausted, and the coronavirus is mutating like mad in this nation of 1.4 billion people.

The pandemic is out of control in a country where almost twenty percent of human beings reside.

What this means is that the pandemic is not going away, as many had hoped, but rather is gathering strength as it morphs into a more infectious and deadly killer in a huge petri dish known as the Indian sub-continent. As we learned last year, it only takes one infected person to spread the virus into another country and, then,  “Katie bar the door!”

All eyes should be on India right now, and every available resource should be directed there post haste.

America is blessed right now to have available vaccines…that are effective with the current strains of Covid-19. Even so, most Americans haven’t yet been vaccinated because: (1) Until now they haven’t been eligible, (2) They are afraid of possible side effects, or (3) They think it would be politically embarrassing for them to do so!

I think that there is a large number of people in category 3 who want to “keep the faith” politically while the rest of America gets vaccinated and herd immunity develops, saving them as well. That way, these so-called “patriots” won’t have to eat their words, that the pandemic is a “hoax”, a Chinese biological attack on America, something to make President Trump look bad, etc.

People in Third World countries would love to receive the life saving vaccine that these dimwits are scorning for silly reasons… like potential side effects.

The truth is that side effects are extremely rare, but possible, with all vaccines. The current hoopla in the United States over the uncommon side effect of blood clotting after a Johnson and Johnson Covid-19 vaccination was based upon 15 known cases out of millions of doses administered…a one in a million side effect, the same odds of getting a serious allergic reaction to a polio vaccination. Getting the Covid-19 vaccination is statistically safer than driving to the location where the shots are administered.

A disturbing possibility that mankind faces right now is that this pandemic will take on a new, more deadly manifestation that is so virulent that even the vaccines that have been developed over the past year will be rendered ineffective.

Yes, it is possible that the virus can mutate faster than the world’s scientists can develop effective vaccines. That would be the nightmare scenario…an existential threat to humanity.

We would be up Shit Creek without the proverbial paddle.

I lived in Washington D.C. for two years back in the early 1970’s while I was in the Air Force. I didn’t care for the place at that time: the weather was crappy and traffic was a mess, as the city wasn’t designed in 1790 with automobiles in mind.

Another thing that wasn’t envisioned two hundred and thirty years ago was America’s capitol growing into a compact city with 705,000 plus residents. Washington D.C. now is the 20^th most populous city in the United States and is home to more citizens than the States of Vermont and Wyoming. (It also has a nice subway!)

And yet, American citizens/taxpayers residing in D.C. have no representation in Congress.

Like many other odd circumstances arising from our Constitution (for example, the Electoral College) and beginnings as a country, the status of the Nation’s capitol city was MacGyvered together back in 1801 after angry debates amongst the Founding Fathers regarding the location of the capitol and how it would function.

One peculiar feature that they devised: citizens residing in D.C. would not be allowed to vote for President of their own democratic country! (Of course, these were the same level-headed folks who determined that a “Negro” person was three-fifths of a human being.) The political absurdity in D.C. was corrected after one hundred and sixty years with the adoption of the 23^rd Amendment in 1961, and District voters were able to participate in the Presidential election of 1964.

There has been an African-American majority in Washington D.C. since 1960, and all but one of the District’s electoral votes have been cast for Democratic candidates since 1964. Periodic calls for D.C. statehood have been, predictably, panned by the Republican Party and its representatives in Congress.

I read today that another effort is being made by partisans eager for D.C. statehood.

On the basis of population, the proposal is a no-brainer. Why shouldn’t these Americans be entitled to the same rights as citizens in the rest of the country? They vote for President, pay taxes, and serve their country in the military. Many of them work in Federal offices and keep the Nation functioning regardless of which political party is in power.

Politically, however, D.C. statehood it is a non-starter. Nowadays, Republicans and Democrats cannot even agree that the sun will rise in the morning. Certainly, the Republicans will find fault (“it’s not what the Founding Fathers had in mind!”) with a proposal that would probably give Democrats more voice in Congress.

And so, the residents of D.C. will continue to be second-class citizens…just like the American citizens of Puerto Rico… who also have a legitimate gripe.

A territory of the United States since 1898, Puerto Rico has twice the population of Hawaii and more than four times the population of Alaska…and Washington D.C., for that matter. In fact, if Puerto Rico was a State, it would be a home to more American citizens than seventeen States.

Puerto Ricans have been U.S. citizens since 1917 but cannot vote for President and do not have any representation in Congress. They can be drafted for military service (when the draft is in effect) and do not pay Federal income tax. The latest referendum (2017) on statehood vs. status quo resulted in an overwhelming majority favoring statehood.

In October, 2017 a terrible hurricane devastated Puerto Rico. President Trump’s response, to an island populated by 3 million American citizens, was to toss rolls of paper towels to a crowd of relief workers, congratulate himself, and criticize the island’s political leaders for seeking Federal disaster aid. A President who had to answer to Puerto Rican voters wouldn’t have disrespected American citizens in this fashion.

Puerto Rico will remain the redheaded stepchild of the United States unless Congress changes that status. As in the case of proposed statehood for Washington D.C., partisan politics will decide the issue.

Yesterday, the House of Representatives passed a bill endorsing statehood for Washington D.C. The bill now goes to the Senate, where most Democratic Party-supported legislation…succumbs.

Simultaneous with the D.C. statehood push, Congress is also considering Federal voting rights legislation which would make it harder for some States to “suppress” voting by qualified citizens. Also being considered by the Biden Administration (behind the scenes) is the idea of expanding the Supreme Court by a couple of seats. And then there is the Administration’s big agenda item, the Infrastructure Plan, which both sides want but can’t (right now) yet agree on the details.

Maybe some old fashioned “horse trading” is in order?

Something has to give: if Republicans oppose everything in the Senate, then Democrats may have to eliminate the filibuster, which allows the opposition to “talk to death” legislation that it is not keen on.

Negotiation and compromise used to be the way things got done in Congress…progress one inch at a time. However, at least our elected officials advanced the ball. In 2021, it seems like obstinance is more highly regarded in our politicians.

What happened to “Politics: The art of getting things done”?

If we are to consider ourselves a “democracy”, then it would follow that all citizens should be allowed to participate fully and equally in that model.

As I write this blog today, the Nation is anxious and uneasy…waiting to hear the verdict in the Derek Chauvin murder case.

If the Minneapolis jurors “believe their own eyes”, the ex-cop will be headed for prison. However, if they (or if even one of the twelve) wants to pretend that they didn’t see what they saw, Mr. Chauvin will walk.

Every American who is familiar with this case knows what happened. And, in their hearts, they know why it happened. They also know that what the ex-policeman did to George Floyd was wrong, as was testified by other MPD officers, a MPD training officer, and the MPD Chief of Police.

That is why Chauvin was fired by the MPD immediately after the incident and it is also why the City of Minneapolis quickly settled a $27 million wrongful death lawsuit brought by Mr. Floyd’s family.

If the jury makes the wrong call othe criminal culpability of Mr. Chauvin, there will be Hell to pay in American cities. I dread the spectacle that will ensue, the property damaged, and the lives lost.

I just hope that right will win out over wrong, that the jury will do the right thing, and that a message will be sent to law enforcement…that “protect and serve” applies to all Americans, not just to white citizens. In essence, that Black lives matter as much as White ones.

UPDATE:

Wow! The jury found Derek Chauvin guilty on all three counts!My faith in humanity is restored… somewhat.

However, I know that, without the videotapes of the crime being committed by a police officer on George Floyd, a Black man, the verdict probably would have been different.

We still have some way to go, as a society. But, today’s verdict is positive reinforcement that change can occur in my lifetime.

Moving forward, we can expect (as can law enforcement) that every time a police cruiser rolls into a Black neighborhood, everyone on the block will turn on the video function of their cell phone.

Evidently, juries believe what they see.

Our little Boston Terrier puppy Bon-Bon is one year old today.

It’s been an interesting ride thus far, seeing as how little Bon-Bon broke her femur as a 3-month old, got a touch of giardia, and ate her own poop for a while.

However, I can happily report that Bon-Bon is turning into a fun, sweet and wonderful member of the family who gets more interesting with each passing month.

With Booger’s sad demise a while back, our 4-year-old Boston Terrier “Baby” is now the leader of the Manning pack, and she adores her little sidekick. They play keep away, tug of war, chase the ball, wrestle each other all day long, and take naps together. They are both very jealous of attention that I pay to them, often trying to nudge the other out of the way when I’m petting or cuddling one of them. It’s cute to watch.

Bon-Bon is becoming more athletically competitive with Baby, who outweighs her by 6 pounds and is lightning quick. It will be interesting to see how they do on the beach up in Oregon this Summer, as they chase thrown balls and run in and out of the surf. Booger and JayJay really liked the waves, but I never got them on the boogey board.

I am hoping that Baby will teach Bon-Bon how to retrieve a ball and drop it right at my feet. This is a skill that Booger taught Baby up there in Oregon.

We have had little problem teaching Bon-Bon things. She did well in Dog Obedience classes, figured out how to use the doggie door quickly, does the obligatory tricks for treats, and has picked up a bunch of skills from Baby…like begging for food from Charlie and panhandling while I’m in the kitchen.

We haven’t had any problem with Bon-Bon (or Baby, for that matter) chewing on furniture or our possessions out of boredom. She is a big chewer, but she knows what toys are hers and she keeps busy with those items. She can gobble up food pretty fast, though.

Bon-Bon is well socialized and is super friendly to any and all dogs and humans that she meets on her walks with me. She is also doing well on leash, not pulling too much, coming to me when I ask. I can now walk both Baby and Bon-Bon at the same time, which is a blessing (so I don’t have to take two trips!). Lately, they’re doing about 3 miles in the a.m.

Bon-Bon likes to lay on the artificial grass out in the backyard and soak up the sun whenever possible. She also detects where sunshine comes into the house and will position herself on beds, carpets, or wherever to catch sunrays. Bon-Bon also likes to lounge on soft stuff, like our bed pillows.

She also likes to cuddle a lot. Normally, she will be near Baby, and they don’t seem to mind cuddling up with one another.

In the evening, while we watch TV, she will cuddle next to me or in Charlie’s lap.

At bedtime, she positions herself right up against my back and sleeps all night. Luckily, she doesn’t snore.

Bon-Bon will let out a shriek when something surprises her, if she doesn’t get her way with Baby, or when someone accidentally bumps into her. Her spontaneous shrieks are alarming, but infrequent, thank goodness.

On the other hand, she isn’t a gratuitous barker. Boston Terriers are not known as barkers, although they will occasionally bark (or growl) at each other while playing and might let out a group bark if someone comes to the door. It’s nice to know that your dogs aren’t neighborhood pests, like some of the Chihuahuas and other dogs in our community that bark incessantly just to amuse themselves.

You wouldn’t know we have dogs unless you come into our house or see them amusing themselves in the backyard. Speaking of that, It’s getting to be “pool time” here in Mesquite. We will have to see if Bon-Bon likes to lounge in the shallow infant pool like Booger and JayJay used to. Baby will do it under duress.

We are going to have to work with Bon-Bon to calm her down in the RV. She seems to get hyper and start panting as soon as we get underway. Baby also has this problem to a certain extent. We are going to medicate both of them when we travel in May and see what happens. (They could become travel zombies.)

It remains to be seen how well Bon-Bon will tolerate being left alone in the RV for hours at a time. The other dogs did quite well; we could leave them for 2 to 4 hours at a time. Hopefully, she will grow accustomed to this, as we occasionally like to go to a restaurant or do some shopping in the little cities that we visit.

Lot’s of adventures yet to come.

Happy B-Day, Bon-Bon!!!

Big news this past week that the Johnson and Johnson Covid-19 vaccine has been pulled out of circulation (“out of an abundance of caution”) because six cases of blood clots have been reported out of the 7 million inoculations given thus far.

OMG!

Gee, all the political hoopla about vaccinations has really hyped up “concerns” among the citizenry

I don’t know about anyone else, but the benefits of a vaccine (like…not dying from the coronavirus) would certainly seem to me to outweigh the risk (6 divided by 7 million = one thousandth of one percent!) of getting a blood clot, which normally is not fatal. My wife Charlie has had a bunch of them.

Americans take drugs (a lot of them!) every day that have known side effects, some very serious.

If you watch much TV, particularly the major networks, it is hard to avoid the advertisements placed by the pharmaceutical companies. They are everywhere, particularly during the commercial breaks of the news shows. Sometimes, there are two drug ads during a single commercial break.

Each ad touts the alleged beneficial attributes of the drug, and then there follows an audio and written narration of potential side effects…which can be numerous and significant including death. “Talk to your doctor”, the ad advises. By the time the lengthy side-effect legal announcement is completed, I’ve usually forgotten what the wonder drug was designed to cure.

It appears, from the statistics being generated about the 100 million inoculations already accomplished in the United States, that the risk of serious side effects from the various Covid-19 vaccines, is markedly less than the risk of taking…an aspirin for a headache.

Can’t we…please…remove politics from this friggin pandemic? Idiots are out there amongst us inventing reasons not to get vaccinated…while people are dying. We are now entering into a FOURTH WAVE of infection, for God’s sake, a large swaths of the public are behaving like we’ve already beaten the foe.

There is a whole “second dose reaction” hoopla being played out in our Nation by alarmists who anticipate a reaction, then attribute any medical condition that afflicts them after the second inoculation…to be caused by the booster shot. That might include a headache, a short-term rash, an upset stomach, a mild fever, and so forth. Normal things that we deal with on an everyday or periodic basis…are now being confidently described as “side effects from the vaccine”.

Nothing horrible, or earth-shaking, from a medical perspective, but more urban “truth” to keep the pot of skepticism boiling…that doctors don’t know what they’re talking about.

Americans need to grow up, trust science, stop pretending that they know more about this pandemic than the experts, do their part, and get this damned plague out of our lives ASAP. This pestilence isn’t done with us yet, although lots of folks are acting like it is.

Historians are going to look back to our time and wonder… what in the Hell was wrong with them?!

Although we live only seventy miles from Las Vegas, Charlie and I rarely go down there. Most everything we need we have in Mesquite. We even have three casinos in our small town, although we only go there for an occasional good meal.

Yesterday was the exception: I took Charlie to Las Vegas to rendezvous with her BFF from Southern California, Karin Pace and afterwards picked up our RV from National Indoor RV, where it had been getting serviced.

Charlie had a room for two Friday and Saturday nights at Caesar’s Palace so we went there first and checked her in. The place was very crowded, which surprised me because of the pandemic; however, everyone was wearing masks, and it is obvious that management is toing the line set by Nevada Governor Steve Sisolak.

What surprised me even more was the clientele in Caesars: extremely blue-collar and young, with most patrons looking to be 21 to 40 years old. We might have been the only geezers in the joint. The atmosphere was more like a frat party or rave. Interesting…because Caesar’s used to have an upscale clientele. Time’s are a’changin’, I guess.

We were hungry (it was lunchtime) and had a hard time finding anything to eat. Caesar’s has lots of food opportunities, but it seemed that many were closed or operating at 50 percent capacity, which meant that it was almost impossible to get a seat in a restaurant. We ended up in the Sports Book area where we were each able to snag a slice of peperoni pizza and a Diet Pepsi to share. The cost: $25.00!!!

Valet parking cost me another $25.00!!

It is apparent that management (and corporate ownership) intends to recover one year’s worth of lost profits in a couple of months. Caveat emptor, or “Whatever money comes to Vegas, stays in Vegas!”

I left Charlie at Caesar’s and headed up I-15 a few miles to National Indoor RV to pick up the rig, which had been there for repairs for about one month. I had checked twice in the past ten days to CONFIRM that it would be ready on Friday the 16^th, since I had to take Charlie into Vegas for her 2-day whirl. “Yes, Mr. Manning”, I was told, “Your RV will be ready.”

It wasn’t.

Both the Service Host, and her Assistant, walked me out into the parking lot to my rig (which had a bunch of crap sprayed on the door area!) and then said, “Only two items remain to be done”.

WTF, I turned red and flew into a rage. “You’ve had it for a month, I’ve just driven 70 miles to pick it up, you promised it would be done today, and now you’re informing me that you’re not done!!! This is total bullshit!”, I screamed.

The Service Host said, “We have you down for pick-up on the 19^th”. I said, “That’s not what your assistant told me ten days ago and four days ago! You idiots should be ashamed of yourselves!” (I think I used f’ing descriptor)

The two ladies then told me that the remaining items to be done were installing the new washer/dryer and the new Blue Ox towbar. “That should have been done three weeks ago…what have you guys been doing?” It appeared that the rig had sat in the parking lot for quite awhile.

The ladies disappeared into the building and I stewed for ten minutes. They then returned and told me that the two items would be done immediately and asked me to wait in the Customer Lounge.

I went there and fumed.

After a half hour, I dialed up the NIRV telephone number and asked to talk to the Service Manager. When he came to the line, I unloaded on the poor guy, trashed his Service Dept help, and threatened to put some nasty shit on social media about his joke of a service operation and NIRV. I told him that I could get better service at…a “frigging gas station”.

I informed the Service Manager that one of my major “to-do” items on the repair checklist was repair/replacement of the under chassis air suspension system, a major cost item (possibly $8,000). After having the rig for three weeks, his bungling staff had called me and told me that they wouldn’t be doing those repairs because they “couldn’t get parts”. (I mentioned to the Service Manager that, following that call, I’d checked with Temecula Valley RV in So Calif and Premier Trucking in Hurricane, Utah…and they both said, “No problem, bring it in.” So, his inept operation had screwed ownership out of a nice profit on those repairs.)

In a few moments, he (“Tino”) appeared in the lounge and fell all over himself, apologizing for his inept crew and promising to get things completed and my rig ready to go “in 20 minutes”.

He lied; it was more than an hour but, to his credit, Tino had five guys working like slaves in my rig, getting everything ship-shape and even washed the thing. Tino made sure that one of his guys demonstrated that the washer/dryer worked and also that the Norcold refrigerator would now shift to propane while on the road.

Now we’re talkin’.

Finally, three hours late, I paid the bill…which had, generously, been marked down $500 by Tino for my inconvenience and as a gesture of apology. Okay, I thought, at least they’re trying.

As I waited for the crew to ease my rig out of the cavernous building, I glanced at the itemized invoice for the work done. I noticed a peculiar item: replacement of a cabinet hinge (which we had requested) that was priced $13.50 for parts and $338.00 for labor.

Needless to say, I flew into another rage.

NIRV is an expensive place, for sure, with a labor shop rate of $169.00 per hour. That means that they charged me two hours of labor…for something that I’ve installed myself in five minutes with a screwdriver. C’mon, Man, what’s with the price gouging?!!

My Service Host, “Marsha”, and the Service Manager “Tino” caught more foul language tossed their way and scurried off to accounting to investigate the outrageous charge.

Ten minutes later, Marsha reappeared to explain that it was her error, that she had believed that the repair guy replaced all of the cabinet latches in the bedroom slide (which she had recommended to me initially, but what I had declined…three weeks ago). Her bad, she said, and added that I would be receiving a $253 credit on my Visa come Monday.

Needless to say, I’ve seen the last of NIRV. Good riddance.

So, now it’s five-thirty, it’s getting to be dusk, and I’ve got to drive 70 miles back to Mesquite.

Wouldn’t you know it: the desert winds kicked up, and I had to slalom up Interstate 15 while being punished by 40 mph wind gusts!!

That was probably God’s punishment for all of those four-letter words that I inflicted on those NIRV nincompoops. (Yeah, but it felt good at the time!)

Next week, I will take The Beast up to Hurricane, Utah (60 miles) for the under-chassis work…which (that Service Department claims) doesn’t even require an appointment.

I will believe that when it happens.