Month: November 2022

We started out the Holiday season with a dinner at Wolf Creek Golf Course with our good friends Lloyd and Juanita.

This nice restaurant decided to offer a buffet Thanksgiving dinner for $35 per person. The offering included macaroni and cheese, green salad, sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, turkey, ham, and mashed potatoes. Everything tasted the same… like different versions of mashed potatoes. It sucked. We could have had a better meal at Del Taco for a whole lot less.

(Thanksgiving meals are sometimes memorable, and I’m not just talking about the five- to ten-pounds of food that one stuffs down his gullet. I recall one “special” Thanksgiving meal that Charlie and I and the four boys had at Charlie’s parents’ home. Her dad Chuck was always socially inept and would sometimes say awkward things just to make conversation. At some point, he found it necessary to blurt out to his grandson Tim, “Well, have you got anyone pregnant lately?” Tim got red in the face and said something like, “Mom, why did you tell him?” Charlie, who had kept the secret to herself, replied, “I didn’t, you just did!”)

(The best Thanksgiving dining experience we’ve ever had was in Tangier, Morocco. It’s a very exotic place, lots of Muslims walking around in costume, and all kinds of shady characters lurking about in the Casbah. However, we found a little restaurant in there where the owner took real good care of us and brought us a variety of great food (who knows what it was?) and drink. The male customers in the restaurant (Charlie was the only woman) were friendly and respectful, even the guy who was a spitting image of Osama Bin Laden. Those gentlemen didn’t know John Smith and Pocahontas from Ice Cube, but kept their daggers sheathed and tried to ignore us infidels. We had a great time. No turkey or mashed potatoes, however, but a lot of fish, cous cous, rice, and such.)

We rescued Thanksgiving evening by going back to our place, playing some cards and dominoes, and having some apple pie with vanilla ice cream. The latter was much better than our Thanksgiving meal at Wolf Creek and only cost a few bucks. That’s how you fight inflation.

Charlie has scheduled four cocktail parties at our home over the coming month to press the flesh with some of our closest friends and neighbors. She also gave me my Holiday haircut: the girl has talent.

We have held some big Holiday parties at our Mesquite house in years past but our enthusiasm for such has waned, as many of the neighbors who show up never reciprocate. Accordingly, we’ve decided to just invite maybe twenty folks and break that number down into four cocktail parties where we can actually spend time sharing stories and enjoying each other.

In the midst of this Holiday Season schedule, our son Jeff and wife Carol are going to be visiting the area in their motorhome. They are full-fledged boondocking professionals now and they plan to camp in the Arizona Strip area for several weeks and watch our home when we take our annual jaunt to Yuma. Their dog, a huge pitbull named “Chongo”, will watch the backyard and scare the bejeezus out of the rabbits and roadrunners.

My birthday is on December 5 (75 years young), so we’ll be having a small party with some friends at our home. Charlie’s birthday (who knows how old she is?) is on January 3^rd. We’ve decided to spend that occasion in Las Vegas with Lloyd and Juanita (a South African who has never seen Sin City). We’ll probably go to Caesar’s Palace, wander around, and then have a nice meal somewhere. Hopefully not a mashed-potato-flavored buffet!

Did I say that we were going to Yuma again for Christmas? It’s true, we’ve been invited back by our good friends Dan and Peggy Quinn. We really like going there and spending time with them, as they’re great people and also have a Boston Terrier named “Katie”. We will spend a lot of time going to bars and restaurants, probably spend some time in Algodones, Mexico, go to the big flea market, hang out at their spacious digs, drink a lot of adult beverages, and tell a bunch of lies. It’s all fun. And, maybe, Dan and I will get a chance to golf one day.

Speaking of that, I haven’t played a round of golf since last May here in Mesquite. I didn’t take my clubs on our 3-month RV trip and hit one bucket of range balls about a month ago. I am thinking about going to the driving range this week to see if I have anything left. It’s a crapshoot these days when I swing a golf club: anything can happen. Hopefully, I won’t embarrass myself with Dan.

Charlie and I spent Black Friday remodeling the house into a Christmas-themed paradise. It was a back-breaking exercise, as usual, but the end-result was very nice.

Back in So Cal, when we lived in Murrieta, we used to go all out decorating our 3-level home. I had an entire loft area in the garage where I kept all of our decorations; we could have outfitted three homes with all that stuff. Thankfully, we’ve tossed . or given a lot of it away and now have a manageable inventory. I used to do a lot of exterior lighting but nowadays I just spiff up our backyard pergola and call it good.

As far as Holiday gifts are involved, we send some gift cards to our kids and don’t really get many presents for each other. Charlie and I have been together for about a half century, and we give each other gifts each week. If she wants something, she just orders it on Amazon. “A happy wife means a happy life”

Our biggest Holiday gift will be (fingers crossed!) Charlie’s successful follow-up exam on her broken foot, which will occur on December 9^th. Just like the podriatrist predicted, the broken 2^nd metatarsal seems to be healing itself: Charlie has ditched the bulky Frankenboot for a more petite version, and does some walking each day without any orthopedic appliance. Hopefully, the xrays will reveal a healed foot and my wife can be done with the almost-six-month ordeal.

That will definitely bring us some Holiday cheer.

I went for a long hike yesterday out into the Nevada desert with my friends Mac, Lloyd, and Lloyd’s girlfriend Juanita.

Holy smokes, this place was about 50 miles past “Resume Speed”, on a dirt road, through an old, abandoned railroad stopover, totally cutoff from cell service, no amenities of any sort, and populated by lizards, snakes, and a few human beings. We saw about six automobiles all day. Most of our day was driving, but we did get the opportunity to hike about 6-1/2 miles through some river washes.

Not my cup of tea, really, but Mac and Lloyd like this kind of thing. On the positive side, we got to chat about things, which is the key attraction of hiking with your buddies.

Mac and I both used to work in government: Mac for the Dept. of Defense back on the East Coast; and me for the County of Riverside (California). So, we understand how government is supposed to work and also why it is failing Americans at this time. We are both very frustrated and disgusted with the current state of affairs.

Government, per se, is necessary in a civilized society. It is the mechanism that creates order, plans for the future, finds solutions for problems, assures law and order, and keeps the Ship of State moving forward in a positive direction. “Bureaucrats”, i.e. the derogatory word for government workers, are the people who execute the policy of the Executive Branch. If the elected leaders fund a new jail, bureaucrats (the jailers) do the work of tending to the prisoners per the guidelines set down by elected officials. The Legislative Branch is responsible for identifying problems, finding solutions, and devising laws to guide the Executive Branch (and bureaucrats) in making a better society.

Politics and government are not the same thing. While government is a mechanism for addressing societal problems, politics is concerned with acquiring, using, and retaining power to exert control of government. An “effective” politician is not a person who can get elected over and over; rather, it is an elected official who can actually get things done which benefit society.

There is a high skill level required to be an effective elected official. Government is the ultimate team sport: it takes a lot of people working together to move the ball forward in a manner that satisfies the public. Since there are many different opinions on any subject, and a variety of ways to build an effective mousetrap, elected officials must evaluate the options, weigh the pros and cons, and then build a consensus with their fellow elected officials (for example, other legislators) to come up with laws that work for the majority of their constituents.

Typically, elected officials at the national level have been elected officials at the State or local levels. Presidents are usually ex-Governors or Senators, Senators are usually ex-Congressmen, Congressmen are usually ex-State legislators, State legislators are usually ex-County officials, County officials are usually ex-City Councilmen, and City Councilmen are usually ex-Planning Commissioners, School Board members, or H.O.A. members.

I think you get the idea that effective elected officials typically have a wealth of experience in government leadership and a lot of practice identifying important issues, devising clever solutions, and developing consensus among their peers exactly how to tackle serious problems. The best elected officials are master strategists and dealmakers, and the most valuable appliance in their toolkit is compromise.

It is better to get some of what you want than none of what you want. If two opposing politicians each have a ten-point wish list regarding legislation to solve a problem, it is likely that there are items on that list that both sides want. Let’s say there are five common “keepers”. Those become the “givens”, the groundwork for the compromise. The other five items on each politicians list become pawns in the game of “horse trading”. There may be a few items from each party’s list that are absolutely unacceptable to the other but, by the end of the negotiation, perhaps each side is okay with seven or eight components which will help address the original problem. So, an agreement is reached wherein the ball is moved forward.

This is how great achievements have been made by our government officials. Think of all the discussions, debates, and compromises that went into the adoption of our U.S. Constitution and the building of the Transcontinental Railroad, the Panama Canal, and the Interstate Highway System, just to name a few complicated and contentious undertakings. Grown adults, passionate people all of them, worked hard at finding a way to achieve the “impossible”.

Fast forward to 2022.

We are seeing political parties putting forward candidates for high public office who have never held any position at any governmental level, who merely have name recognition (as a celebrity), and whose only campaign promise is to promote the extreme agenda of the nominating political party. This is a recipe for disaster, as elected officials who are not skilled at, or even willing to consider, compromise are useless when it comes to participating in democratic government.

Mitch McConnell, the long-time Republican Senate leader, complained early in this year’s midterm election cycle about G.O.P. “candidate quality”. He is a very astute and effective politician, and his statement was correct, as a large number of whackadoodle candidates were put forward throughout the Nation (many backed by whackadoodle former President Donald Trump) and were rejected at the polls.

Maybe more and more Americans are realizing that a good football player, a quack physician, a television news anchor, or an election denying podcaster don’t have the experience to craft laws and administer them. That’s a good thing.

In 2016, the Nation elected a guy to be President with a decidedly checkered past in business who had absolutely zero experience in government. He not only did not know what he was doing, but he publicly exhibited a strong negative opinion about the purpose of, need for, and mechanics of government at all levels. This President distrusted even the Cabinet officials that he hired, refused to take advice from experienced public officials, and blamed those officials when his own ideas proved to be unsound. He made a lot of enemies in Congress and could get nothing accomplished legislatively.

This President acted like a King, not an elected public official, and chose to govern by “executive order” rather than working with Congress to pass actual laws. In between issuing executive orders and otherwise finding ways to undermine the Legislative Branch, he used his public forum (usually Tweets) to badmouth elected officials (Democratic and Republican) who disagreed with him.

I worked in County government for three decades advising our top elected officials (the Board of Supervisors) on public policy. I knew every Board member personally over the thirty-year period, sat in their offices, explained the details of items on the agenda, and received policy advice. The Board (five non-partisan, elected individuals) met every Tuesday in formal session to make important decisions concerning the future of our county.

The Board members changed from time to time due to elections. They were all very different people, with varying politics and agendas. One would think that there were plenty of disagreements among them on major policy issues, and one would be right. However, in decades of serving the Board and attending those Tuesday public meetings, I never once heard a Supervisor speak disparagingly about another Supervisor in public.

Those respectful adults, working together as a team, transformed their jurisdiction from a “cow county” into one of the economic powerhouses of the Nation and a place with a very high quality of life.

The problem that we Americans suffer from today is a government run by political party hacks who are interested in exerting power, but not necessarily moving the ball forward. These elected officials do not pursue compromise, probably because they don’t have the skill and experience needed to accomplish that. It is easier to shoot a spitwad at a fellow legislator than to work with him on important issues.

In government, we need serious people, not class clowns.

This is the message that Senator McConnell was trying to convey a while back.

I read a quite lengthy story today about Jerry Jones, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys for the past 33 years, who has never hired a Black head coach.

Jones’ record is not an anomaly: 12 of the other NFL franchises (out of 32 total) have also never hired a Black head coach. On the other hand, all of the 32 NFL franchises have profited extensively from their Black players, scores of them have been elected to the Hall of Fame, many have gone on to become head coaches in college, many have become respected assistant head coaches in the NFL.

Tony Dungy, a Black ex-player and later head coach of the Indianapolis Colts, won the Super Bowl in 2007. One would think that this achievement would have broken the “color barrier”. And yet, at the current time, there are only 3 Black head coaches (ten percent) in the NFL, while 60 percent of the players are Black.

When I was young, the prevailing wisdom in the NFL was that Black players didn’t have “what it takes” to be a quarterback. Over the decades, as the skin color of the average NFL player darkened, some teams began to experiment with Black QBs. This changed in 1988 when Doug Williams became the first Black quarterback to start a game in a Super Bowl. He led his Redskins team to a 42-10 rout of the Denver Broncos and was named the Super Bowl Most Valuable Player. Since that time, three Black quarterbacks have been named NFL Most Valuable Player.

In 2022, Black quarterbacks started the season for 10 of the 32 teams, including the Dallas Cowboys.

So, it could be said that progress is being made, in terms of reversing decades of racial discrimination in the practices of NFL teams. “It’s better than it used to be!”, might be the positive spin. On the other hand, why did it take so long?

Going back to Jerry Jones, the Cowboys’ owner, the article pointed out that Mr. Jones, who is now 80 years old, grew up in the segregated town of Little Rock, Arkansas. It appears from the article that his grandpa was a Klansman and that his Dad was similarly un-enlightened when it came to racial discrimination, and that this attitude was passed down to young Jerry. Back in the mid-Fifties, when attempts were being made by Blacks to integrate schools in Little Rock, Jerry Jones (then a 15-year-old) was among a bunch of football players who stood on the high school steps to block entrance of prospective Black enrollees. In the interview for the article, Jerry Jones (who was photographed at the time blocking the steps into the school) claimed that he only “dropped by” to see what was going on. It should be noted that segregation by race in public schools had been ruled unconstitutional in 1954. Jones, his parents, the voters of Arkansas, and elected officials remained involved in obstructing integration in public schools until August of 1959.

Jerry was a product of his environment back in the Fifties. Who knows what he’d be like if he’d grown up in New York, Michigan, or California? Or grown up twenty years later?

Jerry’s generation (mine as well: Baby Boomer) was the last generation that saw segregation in schools, Jim Crow laws in the South, blatant redlining in residential real estate, and brutal police treatment of minorities in big cities all over the Nation. So, we grew up at a time when our parents, and certainly our grandparents, experienced (and participated in) in-your-face discriminatory practices against Blacks, Latinos, Asians, and non-Christian believers. If we heard our grandparents and parents (and uncles and aunts) saying some very nasty things about non-WASPs at the Thanksgiving dinner table, we youngsters assumed that the truth was being spoken… because we were taught to listen to and respect our elders.

Baby Boomers are the last generation that can realistically use that “excuse”, if one can call it that. Succeeding generations have seen the Civil Rights Act, the outlawing of redlining, and a multitude of laws, local and National, which have reduced discriminatory behavior. Barack Obama, a Black man, was even elected President in 2008 and served two terms!

I noted earlier the NFL’s long-time aversion to hiring Black head coaches. This might have something to do with the folks who own the NFL teams. For the most part, they are Jerry Jones’ peers: the average age of an NFL owner is 70. Like Jerry, most of these team owners grew up when racial discrimination was normal, and in the South it was a regional sport of its own.

The only hope for our country, in terms of becoming color blind and a Nation of true equal opportunity, is for all of us Baby Boomers to die off and let the younger generations “carry the pigskin”, so to speak: we oldsters have too much baggage.

Analysis of recent elections throughout America reveal that our children, and their children, are far less religious, conservative, and narrow-minded that we old fogies are. With every passing election cycle, there are fewer old, White people voting… which scares the hell out of the M.A.G.A. folks. That’s why we see efforts to limit voting by minorities, suggestions to raise the voting age, and antics to deny election results.

So much for the good ol’ days.

It was about one year ago that I heard about a dog no one wanted.

I was at the vet with Baby and BonBon for anal gland expressions (ugh!) ,when a neighbor of mine named Pattie mentioned a young dog that her animal rescue organization had taken in. “Bless them!”, I thought, I hope they find the dog a home. Then, the magic words were uttered: “It’s a Boston Terrier”.

Uh, oh… that’s like waving a crack pipe in front of a junkie.

Both Charlie and I had the same reaction: “We don’t need another dog.” I’m sure Baby and BonBon agreed with that assessment.

Well, we caved and went over to take a look at the little brown guy. He was handsome, energetic, and played with our two Bostons like they had come from the same litter. The vote was a unanimous 4-0, so little “Vinnie” came home with us.

It’s been a great year with Vinnie and we’ve decided to keep the little fella.

It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that our little man dog is the engine that drives the pack. He’s likely making up for lost time (those first 14 months of his life), getting to play all day and snuggle with those who love him at night. He has that gleam in his eyes like he’s won the Publishers’ Clearinghouse Sweepstakes… every time he decides which toy to pick up and tease the other two dogs with.

He blends well his packmates, as he is a Tug of War specialist Baby is a Fetcher, and BonBon prefers Keep Away. All three are Heavy Duty chewers, so we go through the Nylabones and Elk antlers pretty quick. Plush toys last less than five minutes with this maniacal crew led by Vinnie who likes to lock on and shake the object to death. I’d pay admission to watch him clean out a barn full of rats.

Vinnie has taken the place of our beloved, departed JayJay as the Sous Chef/Assistant to yours truly when I am working my magic in the kitchen. His job is to keep the floor clean of meaty tidbits, milk spills, and so forth. And, of course, to remind me that tasty items need to be sampled (by him) before being plated. Vinnie has never seen an item of food that he doesn’t like. He’s the Orson Welles of the pack.

One would think that it would be pretty crowded on our bed at night. Not so much, as our Mesquite bedroom features a sideways California King, allowing everyone to stretch out. Baby cuddles next to Charlie, BonBon is between us, about shoulder high, and Vinnie sleeps like a rock and snores like a hog lying tight up against my back. Smart guy that I am, I don’t hear the cacophony (from Baby, Vinnie and Charlie) because of the industrial-strength earplugs that I wear to bed. Without those appliances, Vinnie would probably be sent packing along with Baby (and, maybe, Charlie). I need my beauty sleep.

Vinnie adapted well to RV life this Summer.

He came to us potty-trained and that’s always helpful in a motorhome. There were a couple of “accidents” in the RV (and at home), like peeing from excitement when we came home from shopping, etc. And, another couple of accidents when he gnawed on the legs of some guest bedroom furniture when he first came to us. Since then, he’s been perfect. Vinnie is not a DIGGER, either, which is a must in the Manning pack: you dig, you die. Thankfully, all of the dogs seem to get the concept.

Our little male dog was quite a bit to handle on-leash when he first came to us. He was so frickin’ excited to be out and about that he would pull incessantly and come completely unglued when another dog appeared. The impression given (to the other dog and his owner) was that Vinnie was infected with rabies or something, practically frothing at his mouth to get at the other dog. Knowing him as I do now, his aggressiveness was really the excitement of meeting another potential playmate and possibly having a ”bitey face” session with his new friend.

Bitey-face, for those who don’t own Boston Terriers, is a game that Bostons play which looks like warfare but is actually play-acting: no biting, no bloodletting, just aggressive “shouting” and play snarling. Vinnie likes bitey-face a lot and practices it many times a day on Baby and BonBon. They are quite adept at it, having learned at the feet of the masters, Booger and JayJay. It’s all in fun, particularly for Vinnie who never had packmates to play with.

It took a couple of months of experimentation, but Vinnie eventually got the message that he must stay in his super-spacious, fenced backyard. We used a shock collar on him for a brief period, and once the little man experienced the Come to Jesus moment, he became a devout believer. Like the other two dogs, Vinnie could go through or under the perimeter fence any time he so desires but chooses to remain in his private domain where he has carefully marked his territory. Probably more than the other dogs, Vinnie uses the doggie door often to survey his backyard empire, sunbathe on the artificial grass, and act like a bigshot toward neighborhood dogs, trespassing rabbits, and the occasional Roadrunner.

Did I mention that Vinnie follows me all over the place? He’s Robin and I’m Batman. If I’m on the sofa, he will jostle the other two dogs out of the way to be next to me. If I’m sitting on a chair playing cards or working on the computer, you can bet that Vinnie will be right under my chair, ready to yelp if I get up quickly. JayJay used to buddy around with me like that. It’s touching.

Lately the little dude has begun to make a cute whining sound whenever he has a toy that he wants me to play tug-of-war with him. He’s also started to fetch and retrieve, something that he’s picked up from Baby and BonBon.

Speaking of the other two, they seem to really like their brother. Every day is a trip to Disneyland for the three of them: fun things to do with their best friends, new adventures around every corner, and plenty of energy to burn making fools of themselves. Accordingly, they take a lot of naps, and it is not unusual to see the three of them cuddled up next to each other on the sofa or on the guest bed.

Vinnie, the castoff dog, has found his forever home.

Ken Tiede is a friend of mine.

The guy lives in Scenic, Arizona, just across the Virgin River from Mesquite, with his girlfriend Nancy. Ken is an ex-mine worker from Montana who knows how to fix just about anything mechanical. He’s also a veteran RVer who has owned a variety of rigs and is adept at fixing just about anything that can go wrong. If you own an RV, you know that stuff is silently going sideways at all times and it is just a matter of time before you end up at the side of the road totally screwed.

Ken’s been there, done that just as have Charlie and Craig.

I typically amass a list of “fix it” items during each year’s RV road trip. Sometimes the list is lengthy, and I’ll take the rig to Temecula Valley RV (in So Calif) and let them have at it. This year, however, the list was small and there were a few items that I could probably take on myself if I had the cojones to do that. Instead, we had Ken and Nancy over to the house awhile back and I mentioned one of the fix-it items to Ken and he said, “Bring it over to my house and we’ll look at it!”

Music to my ears.

My fancy 40’ Class A motorhome has a number of labor-saving devices including an electric water hose reel. The device used to work great, but then started jamming up to the point that it was useless. I thought the motor was ruined. Ken got down into the undercarriage bay (that was accessible by a midget back at the factory) and, with great effort, removed the entire reel and motor assembly. He then took the motor apart and repaired the mechanism that engages the chain drive. After two hours of Ken’s sweat and tenacity, the automatic reel was functioning again.

Hooray for Ken!

In between showing me how to engage my inverter and hook up my TV to a streaming device, I had the audacity to request help on “just one more” of my fix-it items: the café slide that makes a lot of noise.

This is something that an RVer never wants to hear, because if a slide (and I have four of them!) goes tits up, the owner/operator is screwed until one of those mobile RV repair pirates shows up to fix the thing at $150 per hour. I had a slide repair done one time in Northern California where I had to wait five days for the repairman to show up, he spent two minutes under the coach to assess the problem, and then solved my problem with a $1.90 hardened steel bolt. “That will be $451.90, Sir.” Charlie and I were so anxious to leave that RV park that we actually THANKED THE GUY FOR BENDING US OVER A LOG.

Anyway, my screeching slide (going out) was a puzzler to Ken for a while. It appeared to him that some plastic rollers may have been flattened out a bit (from being installed too tightly). We relaxed the torque just a bit and put some lithium grease on the rollers and, voila, no improvement. “Hmmm”, Ken said, “It looks like this slide hasn’t been lubricated in a long, long while!” So, he slathered on the lithium grease and sprayed all of the slide mechanisms with Deep Creep penetrating lubricants. And, miracle of miracles, the infernal racket subsided when the slide was opened and closed.

Yay, Ken!

Before I left the Tiede estate, Ken was nice enough to take a look at my aging tri-fold sofa that needs to be reupholstered and showed me how I can get the heavy sucker out of my rig. I think I will tackle that task when I return from out holiday vacation to Yuma because Mr. Tiede definitely wasn’t volunteering for that one.

Yes, I was a wuss for not doing these things myself, but, as the saying goes, “Don’t send a child to do a man’s work!” I know my limitations. However, I do observe pretty well and now I know how to fix a few more things than I did before… thanks to my buddy Ken.

I am lucky to know several guys like Ken. My neighbor Dale is an RVing expert, who specializes in boondocking and is quite handy. Another neighbor, Al, is also quite knowledgeable about all things motorhome. And, of course, my friend in Yuma, Dan, is capable of fixing most RV problems by himself.

It’s nice to know guys like that.

Oh, Boy, here we go again, another two years of Donald Trump’s mug all over TV screens and newspaper front pages.

Just what we need in this country!

What does one make of the ex-President’s announcement that he will be seeking the 2024 Republican nomination?

The guy surely knows that he is unelectable, that a good majority of Americans, including those who don’t usually vote, will stop whatever they are doing, stand in the cold and rain for hours, and endure whatever electoral obstacles that the G.O.P. will put in their way to vote AGAINST Donald Trump.

The narcissistic blowhard lost by 3 million votes in 2016 and 7 million votes in 2020. After four years of ineptitude, self-dealing, badmouthing his own appointees, denying the seriousness of Covid-19, getting himself impeached twice, concocting a “stolen election” narrative, and inciting a riot at the Capitol building, it is reasonable to assume that Trump would lose by 10 million votes in 2024 should he actually be the Republican nominee.

Most Americans will refuse to elect a President who does not believe in democracy.

Many “pros” in the Republican Party and many of its staunchest supporters and campaign donors don’t want Trump to run because not only would he not win back the Presidency but he would simultaneously damage G.O.P. prospects down ticket. They’ve been through this before, as Trump hysteria takes all of the air out of the room and the Senate and Congressional hopefuls have to fend for themselves while half-heartedly supporting whatever crazy stuff Donald Trump is spouting. It’s bad politics.

It is a bit early to announce a Presidential run, so why is the ex-Prez so anxious to throw his hat in the ring?

The guy isn’t stupid; everything he does is calculated to benefit himself.

So, what is accomplished by announcing so soon? First, he keeps his name in the media, which is important for a narcissist. “No publicity is bad publicity”, etc., particularly if you crave people talking about you. Second, his announcement is likely to scare off many Republican competitors. He’s co-opted about 40 percent of the G.O.P. base, and he’ll bludgeon his opponents with that. Thirdly, it gives him another opportunity to receive donations from the faithful. His “stolen election” grift netted him several hundred million dollars from his MAGA base. And, fourth, his candidacy may forestall many of the pending criminal legal proceedings against him. Trump will claim that his legal woes are political in nature, designed to derail his campaign. “I’m being picked on!”, he will whine.

Trump the poker player is, thusly, shoving all of his chip into the pot, daring someone to call his bluff. If they don’t, he wins that ploy, loses the Presidential election, and the Republican Party ceases to be anything but a prop for the bankrupt Trump brand.

I’ve got to believe that the adults in the G.O.P. room are going to make Donald Trump an offer that he can’t refuse… to get him to back the fuck off.

I’ve already noticed Rupert Murdoch, the owner of News Corp (i.e. Fox News, The New York Post, the Wall Street Journal, The London Times, The Sun tabloid, Twentieth Century Fox) and the man most responsible for Trump’s successful 2016 campaign, is now pummeling the ex-President through his media outlets. A Vanity Fair article today, titled “Rupert Murdoch Knees Trump in the Balls While He’s Doubled Over Coughing Up Blood“, documents the change in attitude.

Big-name Republicans are publicly blaming Trump for the mid-term election fiasco. Major G.O.P. donors are backing off. Ex-Trump cabinet members and prominent Republican politicians are telling him that it’s time to fade away.

Not that it will do any good: the man has his own agenda and will happily destroy the Republican Party if it dares to oppose his goals. This is the same guy who went “all in” on those Atlantic City casino/hotels when every financial expert warned him not to do it.

Extortion is an ugly word, but it is a weapon that Donald Trump has used his whole life to get where he is. He famously uses a battalion of lawyers to fend off civil lawsuits and criminal charges. “You sue me and I’ll bury you in paperwork!” He makes his employees (and governmental appointees) sign confidentiality agreements, which are hammers poised over those individuals so that they won’t divulge what a bum he is. He tried to extort the President of Ukraine (weapons in exchange for dirt on Joe Biden’s son) and was impeached for it. He tried to extort election officials in Georgia to “find” some votes for him in 2020. He tried to extort Congress to overturn the 2020 election by massing a crowd in front of the Capitol building on January 6^th, 2020 and scare legislators into overturning the Presidential election.

It is reasonable to assume that Trump’s very early announcement is a move to extort something of value from the Republican Party. Because his campaign could result in the ruination of the Republican Party brand, Trump might get rewarded by this move.

It is almost scary to think what Republicans might do to buy the monster off.

There have been suggestions that the G.O.P. majority House of Representatives appoint Trump to be Speaker of the House. I doubt that the ex-Prez would go for that, as he would be presiding over a legislative body that has no chance of enacting any substantial laws while Joe Biden is still President. The Democrat-controlled Senate would oppose, and Biden would veto, anything that Donald Trump put his hands on.

Of course, Speaker Trump could personally chair the many Congressional “fact finding” committee meetings that will be convened to throw dirt upon Joe Biden, his son, Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Dr. Fauci, those bums who stole his 2020 election, Oprah Winfrey, George Soros, George Clooney, and, by George, Governor Ron DeSantis for his disloyalty.

This would make a laughingstock out of the Republican Party and would attach a lot more “losing” to a guy who likes to think of himself as a winner.

Alternatively, the G.O.P. could put Trump and his cohorts in charge of Republican Party fundraising. He’s actually good at that, although he would have to expand his repertoire to include those who are not part of his MAGA crazy cult. How effective he might be is a big question. Another question is where all those donations might end up. Trump had a lot of campaign funds available to dispense in the mid-term elections and he chose to sit on most of the money, to the great disappointment of Republican candidates in “battleground” states.

Looking over the various options available to G.O.P. leadership, the only path to exorcise Trump from the Republican Party would probably involve the paying of a huge “ransom” by some of the more pragmatic megadonors that typically fund Republican causes. It would seem possible that, if each billionaire supporter kicked in a hundred million bucks apiece, a billion dollar “golden parachute” might do the trick.

After all, money makes the (Trump) world go around.

Then Florida Governor Ron DeSantis could be nominated, Trump wouldn’t endorse him (which would help) and DeSantis would go on to win the 2024 election.

And, to think that Abraham Lincoln started this political party!

Baby, our Boston Terrier wonderdog, had her sixth birthday this week.

It doesn’t seem that long ago when grandson Craig and I drove six hours to Merced, California to look at an unusual puppy that I’d seen online. The “backyard breeders” were an old Mexican couple who didn’t speak English but were assisted by a neighborhood girl who was maybe 12 years old. They had two dogs left out of the litter: a beautiful male and a blue-gray female with a mostly-white face. The latter one had a lot of energy; we took her. The owners gave us a $100 discount because we drove so far.

As I recall, we paid $900.

At the time, our two Boston Terriers were getting up there in age (JayJay was 10 and Booger was 9), and the idea was that the new puppy would be the companion dog to Booger when JayJay crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Booger, our female, had never been bred, thus never had her own babies. So, we named the puppy “Baby”, as in Booger’s Baby.

We didn’t know it at the time, but poor Baby was loaded with giardia, a nasty intestinal parasite, from being bred out in a dirty backyard where she probably ate the dog poo of her litter mates. Anyway, the poor little dog battled that giardia off and on for about nine months.

We finally found the solution when we were traveling in our RV up in Oregon and met a veterinarian who gave us an “old school” remedy that finally stopped the diarrhea-thon. Baby almost immediately started putting on weight. What a relief!

Booger was an excellent surrogate mother for Baby, teaching her how dogs are supposed to behave in the Manning household. Baby, in turn, did her best to wear out Booger and JayJay with all kinds of tug-of-wars and bitey-face activity. Booger, who was quite the athlete, more than met her match in Baby, who could literally run circles around her.

At that point in his life, JayJay was conserving his energy.

The two older dogs seemed happy to have the little tyke in the household and taught Baby how to stick around the RV when off-leash and how to explore the beach responsibly when we were on the Oregon coast.

Booger, who was a world-class ball retriever, taught Baby the skill, and now she is unparalleled at it. Just like Booger, when we’re at a place like Dog Beach in Del Mar, Baby will race through a crowd of fifty dogs, out into the water, grab the ball, race back at top speed, weaving through the pack of dogs, and drop the ball at my feet… every time. Dog owners (particularly the ones who have “retriever” dogs, ask me how I trained her to do it. I would tell them, “Booger trained her.”

Of course, we knew that our wonderful JayJay wouldn’t last forever. He passed almost exactly three years ago at age 13 and it was evident that Booger, one year younger than JayJay, was slowing down appreciably. We decided to replay our “companion dog” idea and get another Boston Terrier puppy who would be Baby’s “baby” and her lifelong buddy. That’s when Charlie ordered up a purebred Boston from a breeder back in Ohio. We named the little girl “BonBon” and she had the benefit of knowing Booger for a brief time and also being under the loving tutelage of Baby.

Booger passed (at age 13) about two years ago, shortly after BonBon entered the picture. Once again, the lessons passed down from Booger to Baby were now being passed along to BonBon. In that way, the wonderfulness of Booger lives on in our current dogs.

When Booger died, Baby was 4 years old, she was now the “Boss” of the house, and was young enough to handle all of the energy that her little puppy sister could generate. By then, we were living in Mesquite, had a huge backyard, and a doggie door, which gave the two dogs the freedom to enjoy themselves indoor and out. Baby then taught BonBon the ins-and-outs of RV living, and everything was cool.

We were not looking to spoil this perfect situation (i.e. two perfect Boston Terriers providing energy to our home) when I heard about a dog that needed a home. We certainly didn’t need another Boston but, when Charlie and I and Baby and BonBon were introduced to little “Vinnie”, he needed to come home with us. So, now our Boston Terrier plate is full-up.

Baby was five years old when 14-month-old Vinnie entered the picture. To her credit, Baby has been a very good influence on her new brother, teaching him how to act around the house, how to stay in the backyard, how to rein-in his exuberant play (to some degree!), and how to comport himself in the RV life.

Baby loves to play with BonBon and Vinnie. They do the bitey-face thing, lots of tug-of-wars, plenty of wrestling, chasing after toys and one another, and hassling over toys. We’ve gone to rubber and plastic toys, as three Boston Terriers fighting over some plush toy renders the thing destroyed in a matter of minutes. BonBon and Vinnie are constantly looking for things to chew on and argue over, while Baby might use the opportunity for a quick nap.

We have a California King bed and we all sleep together on it. Baby cuddles up next to Charlie, BonBon is between us, and little Vinnie cuddles up against me. I wear earplugs because Baby, Vinnie and Charlie snore pretty loudly. We also sleep together when we’re in the RV… in a Queen bed! It’s a bit tight, but we find a way to sandwich in all of the arms, legs and torsos and sleep surprisingly well. I think it’s the cool weather on the Oregon coast.

So, Baby is now six years old and her roommates Boston Terriers are both two years old. Baby still has plenty of energy to keep up with the other two, and has matured very nicely into the senior statesman of the Manning pack.

Booger would be proud of her “baby”.

Charlie and I recently watched a four-part documentary called “Spector”, a biographical film about the rise and fall of one of Rock and Roll’s most influential geniuses.

Phil Spector, a famous music producer back in the 1960’s, had a troubled life as a child and teen which later manifested itself in his mental illness. He had a chip on his shoulder his whole life, believing that he didn’t get enough credit for his great ideas. He was also a “control freak” and abused his relationships with women.

But the guy knew music.

He started out in 1958 as a teenage songwriter and singer with the Teddy Bears, for whom he penned “To Know Him Is To Love Him”, a Number 1 hit. He went on to become the youngest owner of a record label and the first record producer to control every phase of the recording process.

The musicians from his de facto house band, The Wrecking Crew, worked on fifty Number 1 hits for various artists. Spector’s unique Wagnerian style of studio production, with a room full of talented musicians using the studio as an instrument, became known as the “Wall of Sound”. Some of his most famous clients included the Crystals, the Ronettes, Ike and Tina Turner, and the Righteous Brothers. He produced the Beatles last album, “Let It Be”, including the Wall of Sound-influenced “Long and Winding Road”. He produced John Lennon’s classic “Imagine” album and George Harrison’s “Concert for Bangladesh”.

Spector got increasingly reclusive and weird over the years. His erratic behavior included holding female acquaintances hostage in his home, carrying a pistol, and threatening people with it. He was a small guy and, when he went out clubbing in Hollywood, would be accompanied by two huge black bodyguards.

In 2003, after a long night of drinking and partying, he shot actress Lana Clarkson, who he had just met that night at the House of Blues, to death in his mansion.

Phil Spector died of Covid-19 while in prison in 2021 a shriveled up scumbag of a human being. What a sad ending.

As Charlie and I watched the four-part documentary, we were intrigued by the “Pyranees Castle” that was Spector’s home where he perpetrated the murder. It was said that the sprawling estate was in Alhambra, California, a place where both my wife and I had extensive family roots.

We could not figure out where this hilltop mansion was until some aerial photography was shown in the TV show.

It turned out that the castle was built in 1925, when my father was a young boy growing up maybe one-half mile to the east. He attended Alhambra High School, very near this place. My wife Charlie grew up on Date Street, which is maybe one-half mile south of the Pyranees. As a teen, she attended Ramona Convent, which is maybe one-quarter mile east of the mansion, and I attended Mark Keppel High School, also in Alhambra, just east of the Convent and adjacent to I-10.

In the mid-Sixties, I attended California State University, which is clearly in view (maybe a half-mile as the crow flies) from the hilltop mansion, and lived in a fraternity house just south of the Pyranees hilltop in Monterey Hills.

None of us had any idea that this mansion existed in Los Angeles bedroom community of Alhambra where we spent most of our time before age 25.

That’s weird.

The midterm election results are still being tabulated, but it appears that a much-anticipated “Red Wave” (Republican Party) tsunami at the polls has not materialized.

The G.O.P. will regain control of the House of Representatives but will not be in position to dictate changes in Biden Administration policy due to the Democrats control of the Senate and the Presidential veto power.

Republican Party leadership was hoping for, and expecting, a thorough drubbing of the Democrats on Tuesday. With the economy, the Ukraine war, and a doddering Democrat in the White House working in the G.O.P.’s favor, the 2022 midterms should have been a cakewalk. That didn’t happen, and Party leaders are publicly and privately throwing the blame around. “We shit the bed”, said one Republican political engineer. Another added, “We might have reached the limit of crazy”.

Certainly, a much more sober assessment of the G.O.P.’s 2024 Presidential election goals is in order. Before the mid-terms, Donald Trump and his core followers, were licking their chops in anticipation of another shot at the big prize. However, Tuesday’s results cast a dim light on those hopes. Although the ex-President exerts a huge gravitational pull within the current Republican Party, he still remains unpopular with most Americans. “Saving democracy” and “saving Women’s rights” were strong Democratic Party themes during the midterm campaigns. The January 6, 2020 Capitol Riot and the overturning of Roe vs. Wade, both Trump undertakings, damaged the Republican brand this past week, as did the continuing “election denial” foolishness and the ex-President’s myriad legal problems.

At the same time that some big-name Trump-endorsed candidates were being rejected at the polls, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, the rising star in the G.O.P., steamrollered his opponent and set a glide path to the Republican National Convention. More and more influential politicians, megadonors, and even Rupert Murdoch (Fox News publisher) are saying publicly that it is time for Donald Trump to resume leadership of his family business.

Trump being Trump, he will not be told what to do and may decide to run for President again. This would be a catastrophe for the Republican Party, as DeSantis would probably be a shoo-in if he was nominated. If Trump and DeSantis go at it publicly for the next twelve months, it will get ugly and the Democratic party will enjoy the G.O.P. blood-letting.

Being the ersatz Kingmaker of the Republican Party seems to be something that the ex-President enjoys and he certainly has enriched himself in the process with all of those fund raising scams. There’s certainly something to be said for the beauty of this grift: simply put out an inflammatory e-mail and get ready to open up tens of thousands of envelopes with $20, $100 and $1,000 bills.

He might prefer to continue this lucrative industry rather than getting publicly bashed by DeSantis, disgruntled Republicans, Democrats, and the press. After all, he needs a lot of money to pay for the attorneys who are fighting his legal battles in various jurisdictions.

As a matter of fact, those legal problems might encourage him to announce his candidacy, as it might deter the Department of Justice, State Attorneys, and the January 6^th Committee from pressing criminal charges on him… during an election campaign. He is very comfortable claiming “Witchhunt!” whenever he’s in hot water, and he’s in an ocean of it right now.

Let the circus begin.

It’s Veterans’ Day today.

Increasingly, more and more Americans have never served in the military. On the one hand, it is a wonderful thing that most of our young people have not had to put themselves in harm’s way. On the other hand, most of our voters and elected politicians have not served: this impacts decision-making, when good judgment is called for.

I’m a Vietnam War era veteran, having served four years in the Air Force. Luckily, I didn’t get shot up or killed but, rather, worked in A.F. hospitals to provide care to those who actually paid the price.

I thank those guys for their service.

My good friend Lloyd and my neighbor Randy were Army infantry grunts in Vietnam. They saw some horrible things, were lucky to survive the ordeal, and bear scars (mental) from the experience. From what I’ve been able to discern from conversations with Lloyd, the Veterans’ Administration hasn’t done enough for victims of PTSD. Lloyd, who went through the Vietnam ordeal fifty-plus years ago, still sees a V.A. shrink to help cope with his anger issues. I don’t think he’ll ever be “right”.

The ugly truth is that there are a lot of Llyod’s out there in society, damaged goods to some degree, trying to deal with PTSD issues. Luckily, my friend was able to return to society, graduate from college, and go on to have a very successful career in finance. He’s one of the success stories, actually. We read all of the time about the other guys with PTSD who were never able to shake the military experience and have committed suicide or unleashed violence on spouses, children, co-workers, and random civilians.

Out of all those hundreds of thousands of American G.I.’s who have served and now are our neighbors and friends, how many ticking time bombs are out there, one triggering incident away from doing harm? This is one of the legacies that we have: men who were trained to kill, who we now expect to “forget” whatever they did and saw, and rejoin society as if they are just like everyone else.

They are not, and they never will be. Combat veterans will never be just like you, won’t think like you do, and won’t look at government (and the military) like you do.

This is good in one way: Veterans understand the role of the military, how it works (and doesn’t work!} and know the horrible price that society pays when its country goes to war. Too many elected officials in Washington D.C. don’t have this wisdom and get us involved militarily in far off places for the dubious reasons. It’s no big deal to them, as neither they nor their children will have to don a uniform and dodge bullets.

The biggest sin is that these draft-dodging politicians then get really stingy when it comes to funding the Veterans’ Administration. “Thank you for your service, now get the Hell out of my office!”

I think that we should emulate the Israelis and require every young adult (women included) to serve two years in the military. If we did this, we’d be less likely to go to war, the military would better reflect society (currently minorities are over-represented), and our future government officials would have more respect for the military role and culture and the sacrifices that our soldiers make.

Ex-President Trump famously misunderstood the military. He thought of the military brass as “his generals” and urged them privately to intercede in domestic matters (to stifle public protest of his actions) and to participate in the effort to overturn the results of the 2020 election. Thankfully, our professional military leaders refused to participate in the anti-Constitutional actions of January 6, 2020.

If not for their wisdom and understanding of their role, we might not have a democracy today.

“Thank you for your service!”