politics – I like to write junk…

DOGEBALL

“During one contest, Jeff hit a smaller student square in the face, and this guy instantly wanted to fight.”

One of my favorite activities during school PE was dodgeball. I wasn’t accurate at throwing the ball, but I was a pro at not getting hit — and that’s what counts most.

The way I did this was duck behind others until the ranks thinned, and then constantly run football stop-and-go patterns. I remember several times being the last one standing. Some classmates claimed I cheated, yet I’d never seen any official rules for playing the game.

My friend, Jeff Thimsen, was deadly with a dodgeball, nailing me more than once. Jeff hit a smaller student square in the face during one contest, and this fellow instantly wanted to fight. The guy should’ve ducked, but he was already the shortest person in class. I’d love to mention this person’s name, yet won’t out of respect because the 71-year-old man is now quite well known in music circles.

Coach Chuck White would often join in, and he didn’t cut us any slack in letting a ball fly. I was smacked in the leg by Coach White, leaving a big red whelp. Payback time eventually came my way. After PE was over, I hit him on back of the head with a ball when no one was watching. The coach never suspected me, with the angry instructor screaming at another student instead.

I haven’t played dodgeball in years, but should the Havasu Senior Center start a league with seniors only, count me in. I’m sure those watching us play would get a hoot out of this harmless activity. As long as the balls aren’t fully inflated, no one should get seriously hurt. It’s a different story when those round weapons are fully pumped up with air.

Elon Musk is an excellent dogeball player. The game he plays is a bit different than the one I know. Elon finds a target, then hurls his invisible ball, seemingly never missing. For each agency his dogeball strikes, a bundle of cash rolls out, much like a Piñata stuffed with candy.

Sometimes, a politicized judge steps out of nowhere and rules that Elon cheated, taking this prize money away from him. Then, out of nowhere, another judge pops up, ruling that Musk and team are privy to it.

It’s sort of like tennis — only much different. I enjoy watching Elon’s game play out on the 6:00 news, especially when those on the losing end throw temper tantrums.

Some politicians are now calling Elon Musk a cheater at dogeball, claiming that Elon’s not playing fair with “their” money. I was always under the impression that tax money belonged to the citizens of this country. Have the rules changed here?

I know precisely how Mr. Musk feels in being labeled unsportsmanlike while playing dogeball, having incurred the same wrath in dodgeball.

Researching things for about three seconds, I couldn’t find any defining guidelines for dogeball. It appears to me that whatever way Elon wants to play his game is okay with the majority of citizens in this country.

One thing that hasn’t changed in our country since 1789 is that a majority still rules. That’s how things are supposed to work in a democracy, with the United States Constitution dictating this under Article VI.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

This saying goes way back in time.

THE WRONG STAND

“Volodymyr Zelenskyy is unable to account for where all of these funds went — yet he pleads for more.”

I’m sorry, Ukraine, but had Americans sent the right man to Washington, D.C., back in 2020, you folks wouldn’t be in the mess you’re in. Russia would’ve never invaded your country to begin with!

Unfortunately, that major blunder is now water under the bridge, and nothing can be done to repair the damage that Democratic voters did other than for your leader, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, to accept conditions for a ceasefire.

Unlike former United States President Joe Biden, President Donald Trump is working hard for a truce between both countries, yet it’s evident the Ukraine leader doesn’t want peace.

Unfortunately, “small man syndrome” seems to have taken over all logic with this person — the same was as it did French leader Napoleon Bonaparte some 200 years ago.

The United States has sent Ukraine money and weapons to help fight this unwinnable war to the tune of billions of dollars. President Zelenskyy is unable to account for where all of these funds went — yet he pleads for more.

During the last United States election, Zelenskyy attended a rally for Kamala Harris, so it’s obvious where his real loyalty lies. Unfortunately, he took the wrong stand there as well.

Those countries claiming they stand with Ukraine haven’t done a thing to help Ukrainian people fight, yet they now want to ignorantly criticize our country and our president. Such cheap talk is running wild in the streets.

If someone in this country says they stand with Ukraine while criticizing President Trump at the same time, they need to back their words up by jeting over to Ukraine and helping fight this war. Airplane tickets are available to get there. As I mentioned previously, talk is cheap.

It’s no different than me publicly stating, “I stand with my good friend Charlie!,” this as he gets his butt creamed by three thugs while I sit in an easy chair watching — while eating a bag of popcorn.

Zelenskyy needs to hang up his weapons, as some battles can’t be won! Those uninformed souls who think that tossing more money in Ukraine’s direction will help win this war are the same “uninformed ones” who believe that handing public schools more money will result in better education for children. It’s obvious how that has turned out.

I’m sympathetic to the Ukrainian people’s plight, but continuing this war isn’t going to do anything for them other than kill off countless more of their troops and innocent citizens. Anyone with a peapod of common sense should be able to see that!

WOKE ME UP

“It appears that the majority of Americans finally woke up and smelled the coffee regarding leftist overreach — this on November 5, 2024.

The past 10 years have been unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Never in my life did I believe I’d see folks not knowing if they were male or female. I can’t recall any classmates I went to school with from 1959 – 1972 having that problem. Was something put in Cocoa Puffs or Lucky Charm cereal after I graduated from high school that caused such confusion?

My history book heroes were suddenly made out to be villains, with Christopher Columbus accused by left-leaning historians of atrocious acts against Indigenous people. Civil War officers from the Confederate Army were singled out to be racists. Many of these “Rebels” fought for less taxation on their state’s manufactured goods, along with the same on agricultural products — over that of slavery.

Starting around 2020, the woke mentality began running rampant everywhere, eventually interfering with things that I was involved with or trying to do. Having sent a manuscript to a book publisher for review and him forwarding it on to a line editor, this anonymous “word cruncher” chastised me for using certain offensive words—at least in her opinion, they were distasteful.

I didn’t know this editor from Adam but assumed she was straight out of some leftist college. One of the words deemed sexist was chick and that’s why I say the editor was a she. The timeline for my book was in the early 1960s, thus the word was in play back then. Needless to say, I didn’t change things as that would’ve ruined the manuscript dialogue.

I’ve always called North America’s highest peak Mt. McKinley. It was named in 1896 by William Dickey for President William McKinley from Niles, Ohio. Before that, American Indians and the former owners of Alaska, Russia, called this large mountain, Buishale or Bulshaia. It was labeled that for at least 200 years — perhaps longer.

President Barack Obama renamed it Denali in 2015, saying this was the original Athabaskan name, meaning — “The High One.” The Athabaskan’s unique dialect, nor its conventional means of communicating via hands, or fingers, would’ve never used that word, with Denali most likely dreamed up by some University of California – Berkley professor.

One of the Navajo definitions, or words, for The Grand Canyon in Arizona, is Tsékooh Hatsoh. So far, no one has tried changing it although I wouldn’t rule things out. A good many of these ancient ancestral names are unpronounceable, even by their own people these days.

The High One title should be passed on to those elitists attempting to rewrite history for their own ideological purposes. Before much longer, unless stifled, they’ll have George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and John F. Kennedy labeled as dictators. They’ve already ignorantly pegged that fallacy on Donald Trump.

It appears that the majority of Americans finally woke up and smelled the coffee regarding leftist overreach — this happening on November 5, 2024. Since being sworn into office, President Trump has erased a good portion of this lib-backed wokeness and DEI, with him officially renaming Denali to McKinley. It makes no difference to me what name it’s called at this point in my life, as I lose zero sleep over such things I cannot control.

Some folks are up in arms here yet I doubt it’ll do any good. I like the name Aunt Jemina Syrup, yet it’s now been changed to Pearl Milling Company Syrup, thanks to wokeness rearing its ugly head. Because of that, I’ve started buying the Great Value brand in protest while also saving a few dollars.

The woman behind Aunt Jemina, Nancy Green, was a real person. If Nancy was still alive, I bet she’d be none too happy having her highly recognized nickname suddenly found to be offensive, by folks she doesn’t even know.

I’ll continue writing and using words and language the way I see fit, with outside interference from woke editors and critics mowed over like a D-8 bulldozer pushing through a mound of dirt. Where Denali and Mt. McKinley are concerned, perhaps renaming it Big Rock Candy Mountain would satisfy both sides?

MAKING PREDICTIONS

“Closet drinker is my politically correct term for stealth alcoholics.”

I’ve always been one to predict certain things going way back. To me, it’s merely a way of making life more enjoyable. I can’t say my predictions have been highly accurate, especially with picking the winner of a football game or presidential election. More on those two later.

I don’t use a crystal ball or Ouija Board, believing they’re tools of the Devil. I rely on my own instinct or logic with analysis of the surroundings, and foremost, utilizing verses from the Bible. Philippians 4:13 is my favorite verse. “I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me.”

My weather predictions, especially those involving rain, are oftentimes better than the slick-dressed folks you see on television. If you don’t believe me—just ask my wife.

Some things predicted are kept to myself, especially whether I believe a business, restaurant, or especially a marriage will fail. I pray that all couples will remain together for the duration, but sometimes, I know more about the other half than their marriage partner does.

One of these failed nuptials involved a guy who was a “closet drinker.” He kept it hidden until after the last vows were said. Sadly, that marriage lasted one year. Closet drinker is my politically correct term for stealth alcoholics.

A video game store opened in Anchorage, Alaska, with me predicting to my son they wouldn’t be in business for long. Gunnar disagreed with my analogy, saying that video games were so popular with kids that they’d always be around.

I was off by a few years but the establishment eventually went under. After eating at Kenny Rogers Roasters, I predicted that this restaurant chain wouldn’t last as I exited the front door. Blockbuster Video was picked as a loser a year before they went down.

I made the same prediction with Sand’s Market. This small grocery store was formerly in the London Bridge Shopping Center where the Chamber of Commerce is now located. A Havasu business where customers tossed axes at targets was an easy choice to fail.

I’ve been fairly accurate in predicting what items would appreciate in value. Antiques, guns, coins, and real estate are some things worth collecting. Years ago, before muscle cars hit the ceiling in price, I told family and friends they were a good investment. Some laughed at me.

My father chuckled at the notion of muscle cars. One vehicle Joleen and I owned, a 1968 Hemi Dodge Charger purchased for $3900.00 in 1977, is now worth upwards of $400,000.00. We sold this vehicle before it ever hit that mark.

Football games have never been easy to predict. My favorite team is the Miami Dolphins and I refuse to say whether they’ll win, not wanting to jinx things. Presidential races are my worst venue to choose going back to 1992.

In 1992, I predicted that George H.W. Bush would top Bill Clinton. Of course, “Slick Willy” easily won. In 1996, I thought Bob Dole would beat Clinton, and I lost again. When John McCain went up against Barack Obama in 2008, many predicted that Senator McCain would win by a landslide including me. Everyone knows the outcome there.

I had Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump in 2016, even though I voted for “The Donald.” In the last election, Donald Trump was supposed to win over Joe Biden. Somehow, Joe Biden came out on top making me eat crow again. For this latest election, having not picked a winner in 32 years, I’ll have to go with Kamala Harris.

If I make the wrong prediction this time—I’ll quit while ahead!