It comes down to it being a battle for optics.

Truth is so precious it must be protected with a bodyguard of lies.

Winston Churchill, 1943.

The first casualty of war is truth.

Attributed to Senator Hiram Johnson.

First of all let's get this straight. I am in NO WAY slighting the service people that fought in the Pacific. The fighting there was nothing less than savage. Part of this post is about the optics of the 7th War Bond Drive that happened in the States, far away from the action.

I no longer believe anything I see or read on the internet. The various technologies can spin anything anyway someone wants it to be spun. I should have figured that out after I read about the flag raising on Iwo Jima years ago. The picture was extremely dramatic but the truth is that it was raised by 40 man patrol that was sent to the top to raise the flag to improve morale. While the ascent was very lightly opposed, there was some brief fighting immediately after the first flag went up. Three Japanese emerged from one of the caves and were neutralized in short order.

The second, replacement flag, was raised several hours later because it was a bigger flag and could be seen better.  This is the flag raising Joe Rosenthal caught on film that became famous. The flag itself was brought up Mt Suribachi by a 3 man detail and was completely unopposed.

While the flag raising made it appear that the battle was over, the fighting continued with about five more weeks of savage fighting. For the record, Mt. Suribachi itself was considered secured when the flag went up although the fighting on other parts of the island went on for several weeks.

When the flag raising picture hit the press it was a major sensation. The surviving three flag raisers were  sent back to the States to participate in the 7th War Bond Drive which became a major success. Two of the surviving flag raisers in the photograph were misidentified so only one, Ira Hayes, an actual flag raiser was on the bond tour. During the tour Hayes was sent back to the fleet allegedly at his own request. Fact is his conscience likely couldn't handle what he considered to be a fraud on top of PTSD and he drank himself goofy and was sent back to the fleet. After Hayes left there were no more actual flag raisers on stage.

For those of you that are somewhat knowledgeable of history,  Rene Gagnon and James 'Doc' Bradley were not actual flag raisers as the public has been told for decades. Gagnon was handed a copy of the picture and was told to identify the people in it and misidentified several of them, including himself. He said he was one of them.

At first he refused to identify Ira Hayes. While Ira didn't have a college education he knew trouble when he say it. When he heard Gagnon was being called in to identify the people in the picture Hayes 'threatened him with physical action' if Gagnon identified him. Gagnon caved in and named Hayes after the Marine Corps threatened him with serious criminal prosecution.

When the tour got started the Corps knew that Harlon Block had been misidentified as Hank Hanson. They chose to keep quiet about it until 1947 when Block was recognized. Harold Keller was misidentified as being Rene Gagnon. He wrote headquarters. Years later in a scrapbook belonging to Keller that was a 'strongly worded letter' from a Marine major general basically telling him to keep his mouth shut. 

As for Rosenthal's picture, the optics were perfect. One look at it and one just knew that the Marines had savagely battled their way to the top.

Little did the public know that the 40 man patrol had simply been handed a flag and sent to the top of Mount Suribachi with orders to raise it to let the CO know they had arrived there. The public was totally unaware that the 40 man patrol got to the top of Suribachi unopposed. Little did the public know that the iconic picture was of a second flag raising ordered by a higher up to make the flag more visible to the troops to bolster their morale. 

The adoring fans never knew that their heroes were not, if fact the actual flag raisers. Personally I think that 'Doc' Bradley and Rene Gagnon thought they really were in the picture. There was a lot going on and it's easy to make a mistake. While as a serviceman I was on many details, I'll be damned if I can remember a whole lot of what I did. I know for certain and certainly expect that Ira and 'Doc' would have probably been somewhere else than on a war bond tour. Fancy rooms, good booze or no fancy rooms and good booze. 

Incidentally every Marine, soldier or sailor that served on Iwo deserved the royal treatment.

James Bradley, author of Flags of our Fathers said that the only one of the three that tried to take advantage of the situation they found themselves in was Gagnon. Bradley also said that he's reasonably sure his father was not one of the actual flag raisers.

Ira returned to the reservation with his ghosts and demons and was found dead in 1955 of exposure and alcohol poisoning. He was 32 years old. Hayes was also instrumental in publicly identifying Harlon Block as one of the original flag raisers after the war.

One glance at that picture and you see six Marines planting Old Glory on top of a heavily contested hill. Anyone looking at the picture immediately visualizes bombs bursting and bullets whizzing by as the Marines raise Old Glory. 

A simple work detail photographed at the right time in the right place became one of the most iconic symbols of WW2.

It was a case of pure optics.

Another case of pure optics was Treyvon Martin. 

When George Zimmerman shot Treyvon Martin the left screeched and posted a picture of a younger Treyvon and he looked like an honor student on his way to read Bible passages to his blind grandmother. 

Actually the picture sounded too wholesome for my cynical sorry ass so I dig and almost instantly saw a copy of his Facebook picture and that told a very different tale. A quick Google images search only shows a very, very few pictures of Martin as an angry 17 year old thug wannabe. They still show countless pictures of the innocent 12 or 13 year old.

Still, the optics of the first picture influenced a lot of people to the point where Zimmerman had to be tried to bow to public pressure based on the innocent looking picture of Martin taken years earlier.

Again, optics.

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Some of the straight faced bullshit I have told people over the years makes even me wonder.

One time I had some self-appointed psychologist started asking me questions about my childhood. Were either of my parents abusive? 

"No. My parents were damned good to me. When I was an infant dad would hold me and say, 'Wheeeeeee!' and throw me ten feet into the air and gently catch me. It's my oldest memory."

"Really? You enjoyed that as a toddler?" he asked.

"So long as we were outside. I didn't like it very much inside the house because we only had eight foot ceilings."

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Funny the things you think about in old age.

I was thinking about the time a fairly attractive chick took me home and as we were starting to get undressed I started to have a hinky feeling that something was not right. 

I turned and walked off buttoning my shirt as I walked out.

I heard her say, "Oh, hell. I wanted to go for it and you're walking out on me!"

It bothered me for quite some time until later on I heard there was a murder on the same street a couple of weeks later. I wrote down the address and it was about a block away and was unrelated.

I wondered about that for quite a while and then seemed to have forgotten about it until now. To this day I still don't know why I got the feeling and bailed out.

As I sit here I feel like I dodged a bullet of some sort. 

Funny how one remembers things like that as they get older. I have not thought about that in probably 40 years.

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Stop me before I kill again!

God! Someone reminded me of Covid.

Expect a couple of Covid stories.

I remember some guy jumping on my case because I didn't put my mask on fast enough to suit him.

I held out my cell phone and said, "Call the police! Have me arrested! STOP ME BEFORE I KILL AGAIN!!"

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What? What? What? That's AGAINST THE LAW!!!

Whenever the subject of drinking and driving comes up I usually say that I've always had a beer between my legs since I started driving when I was fourteen. (Actually I started driving when I was twelve.)

Most people understand sarcasm and smirk, laugh or roll their eyes, but not all of them. Some people get confused and start babbling about how you have to be 16 to drive and 21 to buy beer.

To those people I point out that I embarked on a life of crime when I was 8 which really gets them confused.

Actually there's more than a kernel of truth to this because from the time I was about 12 onward if it was after dark and the only two people in the car were my father and I there was probably a better than average chance I was the driver.

When I was about 12 I asked my father to teach me to drive and he pulled over and we swapped seats. Inside a year I was his regular after dark good weather chauffeur.

Every now an then dad would do something that came out of nowhere that was funny as hell. I was about 14 and we had stopped at the beer store and dad had gotten a 6-pack. when we were driving along dad handed me a beer and said, "Here. Don't open this. Put it between your legs."

"I'm planting a seed. The older you get the funnier this will become." he chuckled. "Now you can tell your grandchildren you drove around with a beer between your legs when you were fourteen."

He was right, as usual. Fifty nine years later it's hilarious.

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Look on the brighter side.

Some clown in LA got hit in a testicle with a rubber bullet and has to have it removed. Some woman posted a Sorry Sob Sister Story about in on Nextdoor.

I told her to look on the brighter side because now he can transition for half price.

I am currently sitting in Nextdoor jail.

Again.

Oh, well.

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Dreamers and visionaries.

Back when I lived in Kodiak someone once said that almost everyone that comes to Kodiak is either running from something or looking for something.

I was probably both. Running from the status quo and looking for adventure. I was 26 years old at the time had dreams. Some I managed to live, others changed over time. This isn't about me. It's about a few of the dreamers and visionaries I met.

The dreamers were just that. They dreamed and never really went anywhere. One couple would walk the docks from time to time and look at the very few sailboats that fishing port and dream. Shortly after I pulled into port with the 25 footer I had purchased in late '84 and stored on the hard they happened by and commented they were waiting until they could afford a 70 footer. 

A little  over 10 years later after I had left I met a friend from the 'old days' and  the 'who do you know' game started. He had just left Kodiak and told me the couple that was 'saving for a 70 footer' was still walking the docks looking at the same old tired sailboats and annoying new arrivals. They were still dreaming. They probably had never saved a cent toward their imaginary 70 boat.

For all I know they are still walking the docks.

He also said that the couple we both knew that wanted to build themselves a home without any loans had now had a beautiful place to live, located in what was considered to be an unbuildable lot. Everyone thought they were both crazy but that turned into respect and admiration as time passed. They did a beautiful job.

I do remember the house when it was near completion. The wife was gloriously pregnant with her second child when I left town. She was still working alongside her husband.

When they arrived they both started working almost immediately stuffing dead fish into tin cans at a cannery. It was pretty nasty work but they were motivated. The hourly wage wasn't much but the overtime was unlimited. Alaska law was over 8/over 40. Anything over 8 hour in a day and/or 40 hours/week was time and a half.

 They lived in the cannery bunkhouse for a while. It didn't take long before he was working for a local contractor and she found a pretty good job on the Coast Guard base. In weekends they often picked up a few shifts at one of the canneries.

Later when they bought their land every non working. non sleeping hour was dedicated to their dream. It took over five long, hard years but they had a really nice house that was theirs free and clear.  

 The couple that built their own home were visionaries. They had a vision and simply plugged away at it, board at a time, turning an unbuildable lot into a warm home. When it was finished they owed nobody a thing and built it with their own sweat, blood and tears. By doing so they had created a good sized chunk of wealth. 

Meanwhile many of their contemporaries were plugging away at paying 30 year loans. 

This couple was not alone. I know a number of people that did basically the same thing. I have met a number of people that had dreams and followed them.

Another wanted his own fishing boat and fished for other people and saved and saved. He kept his eyes and ears open and was smart enough to shift his priorities. He figured the money wasn't in the actual boat but the limited entry permits and he bought whatever he could. Then scarped up enough for a tired old purse seiner, fished that for a while, leveraged a 58 foot limit seiner and eventually sold the boat and permits as a package. In reasonably short order the boat was paid off.

Shortly after I met him he was in the process of making a deal with some investor group in Seattle that wanted the boat and all permits. He timed the deal well, made a killing and got to fish the boat for a few years as it's captain for a generous crew share. At that point he retired from fishing.

Commercial fishing was and probably still is a good way to make pretty good money but it's a crapshoot because there is no hourly wage of any sort. A crewman is paid a portion of the catch. If you catch no fish you don't get paid. If you catch a lot of fish you get paid rather well. When you go fishing you don't get a paycheck, instead you get an opportunity with risk attached.

Fishing also comes with a good change of getting killed. It's 40 times more dangerous than the national average making it far more dangerous than coal mining.

One of the other visionaries I met was someone that got a lemon and turned it into lemonade. He was a high school dropout that got drafted. When I met him he was the orthopedic surgeon that was fixing my busted foot. when we were talking he asked me about myself and I told him I was a licensed mariner. He asked me what academy I had gone to and I told him I licensed the hard way.

He gave me a broad grin and said, "Keep this under your hat but I never finished high school." That got my attention. I asked him how he had managed to become a doctor.

He had gotten drafted and tested well and did well in basic. There was a shortage of combat medics so instead of 10 weeks infantry training and being sent to Vietnam, they gave him 13 weeks of combat medic training and then sent him to Vietnam. After 6 months in combat he was sent to a field hospital where he was spotted by an Army doctor that mentored him. When he was back in the States he was offered a shot at the Green to Gold program if he'd reup, based on his service and several recommendations. 

He took the army up on their offer and the Army sent him to college after he tested. He majored in Pre-Med. Upon graduation he was promoted to 2LT and offered a shot at medical school, followed by internship and residency in Army hospitals. He retired from active duty after 20+ years as an LTC and stayed in the reserves where he was promoted to colonel!

FWIW the highest paying position in the active Army are physicians. They get quite a bonus for serving as they are much needed.

The man saw opportunity and had the brains and drive to take advantage of it to better himself. From fixing cars in his driveway to orthopedic surgeon! It didn't cost him a dime. In fact he got paid for it! Opportunity came a-knockin'!

Another GI was a combat arms artillery surveyor. He worked hard as a soldier and was promoted fast to E-5, did his four years and got out and took his skills and GI Bill with him. He found a job with a civilian surveying company part time as he went to college. When he finished his schooling he found work with a civil engineering outfit and in short order actually became a department head when the company opened a residential operation. He did well.

One of the things I saw in the army was opportunity. I was offered any number of schools and took advantage of several of them. I took a school called 'MAPTOE' which was a management course that broke things down to a series of small steps. I learned a lot of small things that certainly came in handy over the years. I learned how to organize things and it served me well in my careers.

As a young GI there was a 'knife fighting, snake eating' school I took that was interesting, demanding, challenging and just plain fun. We all paid attention to the knife fighting instructor because of his cool scars. (Later we found out they were from shrapnel, not knife fighting.)

I took several schools and classes in the service and learned from all of them. 

Over the years I have met a few people that either flunked out, got kicked out or otherwise failed to graduate from basic training. They usually give mamby pamby answers to why they failed. "The (insert service here) just wasn't for me." seems to be common. It's just another lame excuse for not finishing what you started. You simply did n't try.  

Basic training is generally a shock for teenagers. I went through it at 21 and look back on it fondly. I had a few years experience in the real world and actually enjoyed basic because I knew how the game was played. It was actually fun. 

Of the very few get an Entry Lever Separation many of them are for failure to adapt to military life. What's interesting is how many teenagers fall in and adapt quickly. There is also a few that enlisted for the wrong reason. They were looking at getting GI benefits and were stunned that they'd actually have to earn them. They most likely never thought it through, went into shock and simply failed on purpose. Most of these entry level quitters were not thinking ahead and lost out on a LOT of opportunity. 

There's still plenty of opportunity out there. As I sit here I could probably get a squared away HS grad a job starting at $65-70K and inside two or three years he can easily bring in six figures if he works at it. So far I have offered to do this for a number of youngsters who never have gotten back to me. The one that did had a criminal record involving drugs so that blew his chances out of the water.

My career was pretty meteoric, actually. I started as an entry level ordinary seaman in January and by the following October I had an Able Seaman AND a tankerman endorsement and my pay had almost doubled. Inside of a year I had my captain's license. I'll tell that story sometime else. Suffice to say I saw opportunity and jumped on it.

I constantly hear younger people complaining over things like they can't afford a house as big as the one they grew up in because the generational wealth hasn't started to trickle down yet. Fact is that a lot of boomers are now doing more than their fair share of keeping the economy strong by spending in their retirement. Of course the younger generation complains because they are spending their inheritance. It's theirs to spend any way they want.

One young man seems to spend an awful lot of time griping about the current state of affairs on social media. He goes on and on arguing about this and that, mainly leftist crap. My advice to him is that if he took the time he wastes babbling away on social media and put it to good use he'd be able to afford a house TWICE the size of the one he grew up in. It's easy to feel sorry for one's self as opposed to working to improve ones self.

There is a lot of opportunity out there. One of the neighborhood kids picked an in demand major and has not even graduated and has been offered and has job offers well into six figures upon graduation. His loans will be paid off by whichever company hires him.

Of course if you were foolish enough to get a degree that's not marketable you can look forward to paying off your loans as a barista at Starbucks. Have fun.

The girl up the street that majored in civil engineering got picked up a few years back and is making good money. Meanwhile the dolt a couple of blocks away listened to his Karen mother who told him he'd never amount to anything without a college degree. He went to college and skipped out on an apprenticeship program as an elevator mechanic. He's paying off his loans at a low paying job instead of working in a field where the average wage here in PA for an elevator mechanic is $130,500/year! 

Even little opportunities pop up out of nowhere. A while back I was going to run a few errands. One of them was to go to the bank and cash a check for $100 chump change walking around money. 

During my errands I spotted an antique pie safe in front of a house on the curb with a 'free' sign on it. I stuffed it into the bed of my pickup and before I got to the bank I saw an antique store and walked in. The owner and I brought the safe into the store and I walked out with $150 and didn't have to go to the bank after all.

All I had to do was stop my pickup and load a freebie into the bed. I wonder how many people had passed up the opportunity.

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At the doctor's office I said something that caught an assistant's interest.

I asked her where she learned her trade and when she told me I replied that "An education is an almost needed requirement in medicine. I've only met one doctor that never finished high school." 

When she looked confused I told her to "Google 'How many MDs have GEDs?' You'd be surprised."

I guess her curiosity got the best of her and she got her phone out because when we crossed paths later she looked at me and said, "I never knew that."

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Colonoscopy today

which was OK. It's the prep that sucks. 

The only thing that happened was when I mentioned that I wanted to see my doc before I went under. Done deal. I like the guy and don't get to see him too often. 

Protip for prep. It's a 2 part preparation. For the first part. They tell you to drink 2 glasses of water after the first dose. Drink 4 and start hydrating a day or two early. 

For part 2 after the dose drink 3 glasses of water.

The process sucks a LOT of water out of your system and you can dehydrate if you are not careful.

Oh yeah, I absentmindedly cleaned the toilet the day before. That was a waste of time.

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Another comment on George Floyd.

Ever notice how parts of the black community seem to make a hero out of a total bum like George Floyd?

It's always some criminal that becomes the hero.

How come it's never an honor student carrying a Bible to read to his blind grandmother?

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Someone didn't recognize my uniform

I was gardening a couple of days ago and figured I didn't have to go anywhere so I went looking for my rattiest clothes to wear. I discovered an oversized pair of jeans I have never seen before that were falling apart. They might have been a mix-up from work because I found them in a footlocker. They were too long so I rolled up the cuffs and too big at the waist. I decided to put suspenders  on them to hold them up but saw a long bungee cord and diagonally clipped the ends to belt loops.

Underneath the bungee cord was a paint covered T-shirt that looked like it had been in a battery acid fight. Worn out Topsiders completed the outfit.

The gardening was rolling along when the wife called me and asked me to pick something up at the local market. I probably should have gone in and changed but I didn't. I figured it would be a fast in and out trip.

Bam! Off to market. Item in hand. In line.

A mother and son team slip behind me and I overheard the mother quietly comment about the homeless man in front of them. (Me)

Actually I took no offense because I knew I looked like hell but I was feeling a little evil. I turned around.

"Ma'am," I said calmly, "I own my home free and clear. I'm not homeless. I don't hold it against you in any way for not being able to recognize the Old School working uniform of a United States Merchant Marine officer. Most people don't."

She looked confused, embarrassed and said nothing. The woman behind the register I have know for years had seen and heard everything. She addressed me with, "I see you're enjoying your retirement, Captain."

More confusion on her part. I paid for my item and left. 

Since retirement I've stayed in touch with some of the guys and we've discussed a lot of things that happened over the years. For most of my career, like most everyone out there, I shopped for work clothes at rummage sales, Goodwill and other high end establishments for work uniforms.

For a while I had a shopper named Bag Lady Sue that would dive the Goodwill dumpster where they tossed unsellable clothing. She'd get your size and set you up with about 2/3s of a USGI duffel bag's worth of clothes for about $10. Sue was pretty good and never sold woman's jeans to us because she knew they were like a cheap hotel. (No ballroom)

Of course much of this changed during the last decade or so of my career when the company issued company coveralls and ordered us to wear them if we were in a position to be seen by customers. Still, a lot of us old timers recall looking like homeless bums when we went to sea.

 

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I just put a letter to the IRS in my folio of things to do when I'm gone.

The envelope contains a letter and two bucks for unpaid taxes from the lemonade stand I ran when I was about 8 years old. It is to be mailed upon my demise.

I am now a contrite old man that wants to settle up and clear my conscience. As a small child I willingly and knowingly embarked on a life of crime by opening a sidewalk lemonade stand.

I will now admit that I ran the lemonade stand without the proper business license(s?), no insurance, and no board of health inspections. On top of that I skipped out on taxes.

If I recall correctly I made a profit of about 20 cents (Big money for a little kid back in 1959) I looked up the 1959 tax rate and it was 10%. I figure that with penalties and interest that the leftover $1.98 should cover it. 

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The single mom got remarried.

which is a good deal for her. Lately she seems so damned happy.

I like the woman. She's got a lot of moxie. When she got pregnant she took it as a wakeup call and decided to do something about it and got herself a career in health care and made something of herself.

She has done a marvelous job of raising her daughter who is a fine young woman and a child to be proud of.

Years ago when she moved in she was taking a walk to meet the neighbors. The guy across the street and I were having a drink in the driveway. We greeted her and she introduced herself and seemed to be what in my day would be called a 'cool chick'.

We noticed right off, of course that she was rather attractive which was needless to say an asset. She was a registered nurse which was indicative of being reasonably intelligent.  Both of these assets are not as important as the big one. Was she likely to become a pain in the ass?

You can draw a MENSA 10 as a neighbor, but if she's a pain in the ass she can easily and gladly be replaced with Down's Syndrome 1 if they don't upset the rhythm of the neighborhood. Beauty and brains in the 'burbs only carry so much weight.

Better to have a neighbor that's as ugly as a mud fence and borderline retarded with a lick of common sense that pitches in and is a good neighbor than a goddess that's a nuisance.

My neighbor and I tossed her a few curves and we both immediately decided she was probably going to be quite the asset in the community. It proved to be an accurate estimation.

I seriously owe her because she's the one that discovered the fire I had and not only reported it but actively tried to fight it until the US Cavalry (fire department) arrived.

I liked her from the beginning and managed to hide my dark sense of humor the afternoon we met when she mentioned she was a nurse raising a daughter.

I bit my tongue because I really wanted to say, "What? You're a single mom and a nurse?? No! No! You're doing it all wrong! You're supposed to be a stripper!"

She's been here for about a decade and I think one of these days I'll share my dark humor with her. 

Looking back onit, had I done that she probably would have laughed like hell.

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What a wonderful morning!

I woke up at some time before sunup and wandered out onto the front porch and listened to the birds planning a new day and decided to go back in and grab another hour of shuteye.

Before I did I cut loose with a loud coyote call and got all the dogs in the neighborhood barking. It was a chain where one dog gets another one going and so on. I probably managed to get about a block radius worth of dogs going, maybe even more then that. I don't think I have done this in decades. 

I listened to my masterpiece for a while and then went back inside and grabbed s little more shuteye, smiling as I dozed off.

Did I wake all the neighbors? Probably not which is fine. It wasn't my goal. I'm sure a couple might have been inconvenienced and had to tell the do to shut up and then roll back over again.

When I lived with dogs they could yap all night and I'd sleep through it. (The very rarely heard low growl at 0300 would instantly bring me to my feet)

Still, it was rather satisfying listening to the dogs spread the word to each other.

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I just realized that

George Floyd has been clean and sober for over 5 years now.

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Out of 535 members of Congress they out to take 500 of them

and drop them off of high places onto a hard surface and record the screams on the way down and the impact splats and sell the recordings to the American cartoon industry to use for sound effects.

I can see people that are true cartoon fans sitting in front of the boob tube watching Wile E. Coyote going off a cliff and one the fans commenting "Not bad! Elizabeth Warren scream and a Bernie Sanders splat."

"Definitely a Sanders splat but I think the scream might have been Jasmine Crockett. The screech seemed to be a little higher pitch than Liz Warren's."

"Yeah, maybe. They are pretty close, though."

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While we're at it we ought to toss Hillary, too.

I'll bet she can scream better than Fay Wray!

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Pam Bondi ought to pinch Hillary Clinton

for anything she thinks she can secure a conviction with and then sweat her. It doesn't have to be something she's facing 20 years for. It could be even a simple two to five, out in, say 25 months.

Hillary has threatened to drag a lot of people down with her, or so I read a while back. 

If she does rat everyone and their cousin out to save her hide she's still destroyed. She walks but so what? She's still destroyed because she'll be known as the rat that sold everybody out to save her own precious hide.

Adam Schiff's another one. I'd bet he'd sing like a canary. Charge him with the Russian collusion business and sweat him. See what happens. He'll drags a whole string of people down with him.

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What you do to REALLY piss off Harvard

Take their 50 million and spend it on vocational education.

Harvard has a multi billion dollar endowment and I'm sure they won't go broke.

Lately Harvard has seemed to have forgotten their mission which is education. They seem to have entered the political fray somewhat.

They have also seemed to have forgotten their motto, Veritas, meaning truth.

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The subject of the MOH came up.

and the semantics of how it is obtained is incredible.

It is not like a merit badge so it is not earned. 

It's not a race or contest so it is not won. It is what it is. It is something that is awarded for a conspicuous act or series of acts of gallantry in action. People that are awarded it are recipients of it.

It's an interesting award. It's been awarded to people that have killed numerous enemy soldiers and it has been awarded to at least three contentious objectors that have never picked up a weapon much less fired one in action. Probably the most famous CO that received it was Desmond Doss.

The youngest was Willie Johnson who was 11 when he became a recipient during the Civil War. The oldest was Douglas MacArthur who became  a recipient at 62. (MacArthur's is under questionable circumstances. Politics seems to have entered its head here. Still, MacArthur received the award.)

Audie Murphy was awarded his as a teenager and the youngest one awarded was Jackie Lucas who became the youngest at 17 to become a recipient since the Civil War.

The rules regarding the awarding of the medal are not really clear. 

The Medal of Honor is the highest military decoration awarded by the U.S. government, bestowed upon individuals in the armed forces who distinguish themselves with conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of their life, above and beyond the call of duty.

That leaves a lot of room for interpretation. 

This post is a result of watching a petty little stupid argument over semantics over winning, earning and so on and so forth.

I figure that the easiest way to keep the semantics people happy is to simply say that So and So is a Medal of honor recipient and leave it at that.

Some people's children!

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28 May is a special day.

I got out of the army on 28 May and 8 years later when I was in Alaska I got word that my father died.

I was out fishing at the time and could go home to bury him.

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Political emails

I was a SEAL. Send me money. I'm a retired Major General. Send me money. 

I would rather send money to some guy that's a pissed off electrician that has 4 kids because he's not trying to cash in on a military career.

As far as I'm concerned a self employed electrician with 4 kids knows the average American better than a career soldier, ESPECIALLY a general officer. 

The self employed electrician has done it the hard way and spent a lot of nights trying to pull his next job out of his ass while the career soldier was simply told what his next job was.

Something to be said here. 

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Another 'almost joined'.

as in I 'almost joined' the (insert service here).

What bull$hit! That clown probably never darkened the recruiter's doorstep.

'Almost joined' is like almost got pregnant. Either you did or you didn't. 

If you signed your John Hancock on the line and took the oath as far as I'm concerned you joined. If you went bust on your physical or got busted up during your delayed entry time and got dropped that's OK. You joined. No shame.

I met a youngster that got injured in training and got dropped. No shame. He joined. 

Over the years I have met people that have said, "No way was I going to join the army and get sent to..." (insert Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, Kuwait, Outer Slobovia, BFE, wherever. Pick one.) No shame here. You didn't enlist. Fair enough. Your choice.

Just don't try and tell me you 'almost joined' when you never even seriously talked to a recruiter. You can't 'almost join'. You either did or you didn't and when you say you 'almost joined' you are simply making a fool of yourself when you say that.

The official definition of a veteran is basically active duty and a discharge other than dishonorable. Fair enough. What's is required for various benefits is another story.

Someone that signed their name on the dotted line and takes the oath instantly stops being an 'almost joined'. They joined. 

His status as a veteran is a different thing. He may/may not be able to claim veteran status. That's a different thing altogether and is defined by law. 

Still, I get sick and tired of the jerks and idiots I have met that claim to have 'almost joined'. 

Over the years I have met any number of 'almost joined' types and outright draft dodgers and in general I have more respect for draft dodgers. 

  

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Says it all.

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I had a Moroccan Uber driver yesterday

and as I usually do I ask then about Casablanca and if Rick's Café Americain is still there.

"Yeah, it's still there but Rick sold it back in '43 and went back to the States," he said. "Ilsa dumped Laszlo and they moved to Chicago."

Good answer! 

I went home and decided to check online and discovered that IS a Rick's in Casablanca and it's been there for over 20 years. Apparently some American woman with a sense of humor raised money and built it.

It's kind of funny because the joke's on me. The few times I had teased Casablancans by asking them it Rick's Place is still there and they say it is.

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Finally an intelligent post.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooooooooooooojjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj           llllllllllllllllll

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkgggggggggggggggggggggderta           dddddffffffffffooooooooooopppppppppppppppppppppppp

Thank you, Kitty.

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Snarf alert.

I wish people would at least warn me before they say something outrageous.

Today I was talking to someone that told me a mutual acquaintance had remarried.

"What's she like?" I asked.

"She's got a body that belongs in the Porn Queen Hall of Fame," he replied.

I hate it when good scotch comes out of my nose.

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How many of you readers have seen a number crudely tattooed on someone's wrist?

I have.

My father worked for him in the early 50s.

Later when I was older we had a chance meeting with the man and my father introduced him to me. Being summer he was in short sleeves. I noticed a tattoo on his wrist but for some reason said nothing which was amazing because I was a curious child.

Later I asked my dad. "He's Jewish," he explained. "It's a concentration camp tattoo."

"Jewish?" I asked.

"Yes he is," said dad. "He was at your christening. When I asked him to attend I could have knocked him over with a feather. He was the proudest guy I ever did see."

"He was at my christening? Don't you have to be a Catholic?"

"Not to attend the christening," Dad said. Then he laughed. "Afterwards at work he called me into the office and told me he should have warned him that Mom was Irish and you were the first of the generation. We had a good laugh over that one."

Years later when I went into the Army and came home and life had beaten him down I mentioned him. I was a new GI.

"Son, I was an angry man during and after the war until I started working for the Jewish man that attended your christening. Shortly after I started working for that man I gave it some thought. I'm glad I served."

I think maybe I'll post more about this later.  

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I now have pretty good eyesight following cararact surgery

in my right eye.

As things stand now I am holding off on having my left eye done because if I get the same lens in my left eye I will need reading glasses to read ad I opted for distant vision.  

It's kind of weird until you realize that the eyes are only the receptors and the  brain is what sorts things out.

As it stands now with both eyes open I can read the 20/20 line on the eye chart AND read fairly fine print.

What's happening is my brain zooms in on my right eye for anything even remotely distant and my left eye zooms in on close things.

It works and that's the way I am going to keep things for as long as I can.

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Lately the cat has been a pain in the ass.

which is true although ALL orange cats are a pain in the ass just because of who and what they are.

They are a mess. One really needs a sense of humor and an imagination to truly appreciate and orange neutered orange male cat.

I have a cardboard box in the living room that's on its side and after I shower I stuff my worn shorts inside the T-shirt and flip in in the box because the cat likes to lay on my worn T-shirts because he is a cat and that's what cats do. 

Yesterday one of the neighbors offered me a 'cat tower' because his cat won't use it. I put it in my living room and watched Kitty come out of his box, sniff the entire thing and check it out for about 20 minutes and return to his cardboard box. Best guess is inside a week or so the cat tower is going to get the heave-ho.

Anyway, I can not sit on the Lazy Boy without the cat leaping on top of me and demanding pets because that's what orange cats do.

Of course sometimes I retaliate and when he is comfortably sleeping on the couch I roust him and chase him around for a minute or so and he immediately returns to doing what a cat does best. He goes back to sleep.

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I see where Chuckie Wuckie Schumer is blaming Trump for the Mexican ship accident.

My reply was that Schumer should demand to know why Trump didn't have the part under the bridge dredged to prevent that horrible accident.

If you want to look stupid then go all out.

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We reserve the right to serve refuse to anyone.

is a sign I saw several years ago in a diner. 

Of course it was a sign spoofing one commonly seen in small businesses that read 'We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'.

The originals slowly disappeared after the Civil Rights bill of 1964 was signed.

ssssssssddddxxxxxxxxxxtrggft 1hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh7844444444444444444444444 (cat did it)

The 'serve refuse to anyone' replaced it here and there, depending on the owner's sense of humor. Actually that was generally the sign a pretty good eatery because if they served slop the customers would raise hell or not eat there. It left the establishment open to comment.

I haven't seen one in decades but I bet that if a diner posted one leftists would screech and tell the owner that it's racist because they would think that it was one of the old 'right to refuse service to anyone'  because there is an ever increasing shortage of people with basic reading skills running around these days.

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I got tired of someone being self righteous about Trump being a convicted felon.

So I replied "So was Nelson Mandela. He spent 27 years in prison."

"But that's different!"

"No it is not," I shot back. "They were both convicted in a court of law of committing a felony and both were sentenced. Mandela got life but was out in 27 and Trump got an unconditional discharge and faced no fines or jail time."

"Yeah, but yada yada yada etc. and so on and so forth." he babbled.

"Immaterial." I shot back. "Both are convicted felons."

Actually from what I have read it would take only a first-year law student to get Trump's case overturned by a higher court IF the higher court was honest. The judge and jurors all had ties of one form or another to various 'get Trump' interests. It was a kangaroo court.

In fact under the circumstances the judge AND jurors had a duty to recuse themselves which in itself may be considered a crime in itself.  

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AI has taken a lot of the fun out of spam phone calls.

It used to be there was a human to deal with and I could entertain myself by doing things like trying to sell them things.

The Marriot vacation callers would get a real deal on an extended car warranty and one time I actually got someone to start giving me a credit card number before he figured it out. 

"0123-4567- Hey, wait a minute! You asshole! " Click.

Now it's AI voices although I did get one that was a human recently that tried to sell me a grave plot which I wasn't interested in.

I explained to her that I was being buried at sea and she grew curious and said she had never heard of that being done before. I told her it was fairly common among those that have worked on the water for their career and explained being wrapped in a weighted shroud and splash. Then I explained that there is a prayer for the burial of the dead at sea in the 

She was halfway decent and when I was done she told me she'd add my number to the do not call list and actually did so.

Still, when they were people on the other end it was fun to argue with them and waste their time because turnabout's fair play.

I remember taking a call in Target once and telling the guy on the other end that he didn't get enough pu$$y and when he answered I told him "I'm 71 years old and still get more a$$ than a toilet seat in the broad's can next to the beer stand at a home game at Yankee Stadium, Sonny Boy." He told me to FO and hung up.

A woman within earshot turned purple and said I was disgusting until I told her I was talking to a telemarketer and she whipped a 180 degree change in course.

She said Telemarketers deserve what they get.

 

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Let's take a look at Jasmine Crockett.

The woman was raised by a preacher, had an excellent high school education and got a BA degree from Rhodes College, a good school.

She later went to law school at the University of Houston and now she's in Congress acting like a stereotype 'hood mama. She could have gotten a little polish somewhere along the way and taken the high road. Instead she chose the gutter.

She's also racist as hell and probably sexist on top of that.

Her parents ought to be ashamed of themselves for raising what has turned into a guttersnipe and she ought to he thrown down the stairs of Congress.

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WTF? NPR finally figured it out

Half to two thirds of gun deaths are suicide. That's not a gun problem. It's a mental health problem and some countries that have no access to firearms have higher suicide rates.

About 90% of the remainder are turf/drug/money related from the  gang culture.  Again, not a gun problem but a culture problem and the culture problem seems to be getting worse.

If the gang/drug/turf violence was eliminated we would have about the same murder rate as western Europe.

I was surprised to hear NPR (of all places) admitted it. 

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God, life has been busy.

I'll settle down soon.

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The Dems found immigrants they can oppose.

About 100 white South Africans arrived with more coming.

They're mostly farmers and I hope they start farming here because that's a useful field of endeavor.

Still, the left is going nuts. It's comical.

Incidentally wait until they (rightfully) refer to themselves as African-Americans.

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The weather is finally starting to shape up a bit

at least for the next couple of days around here. Thank God.

Yesterday I mowed the lawn and maybe today I'll plant the usual Marigolds and spruce things up around here and maybe in the near future spray the siding with bleach and hose off the tiny spots of black mold on the east side of the house. 

The sea oats I planted along the west side and along the walkway are coming in rather nicely and hopefully will continue to spread. 

All in all it looks like a pretty good day.

As usual, we shall see what we shall see.

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I wonder how many cops have had to deal with

"Do you know who you're talking to?"

Personally I would not last as a cop because every politician, judge, celebrity or self-appointed big shot that played that game would get whatever I could do to them under law.

Activist federal judge would go straight to the top of the target list if he ever pulled his position on me.

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