Federal Legislative Funk

As a C Span junkie and frequent political Tweeter, I am unhappy with the lethargic pace of political change from our Congress.

From my right sided political perch it seems that for all the rumble of change voters demanded in the fall elections of 2010, little is happening. Our Congress has been unable to reduce our national budget or set aside much of the progressive legislation of the Obama Administration. While I support national parties with different views and sincerely believe in a loyal opposition, it seems changing our national course, based on elections results, is miserably slow.

While the 2012 elections will likely shift the balance of political power to a nervous coalition of Republicans and Tea Party advocates I don't think this will necessarily hasten the timely or meaningful change in our political landscape.

I believe federal lawmakers of all flavors are in a funk of procedural inefficiency. Some of this is caused by traditions and historic precedents. But, much of it is caused by a general lack of common sense. Simply stated, Congress must update it's practises and abolish some of it's foolishness..

When I watch C Span and see it takes a committee of 20 or 30 lawmakers to escort the Prime Minister of Australia into Congress to make a speech, this seems an immense waste of energy and time. When dialogue between politicians is unnecessarily and hypocritically flowered with speech about "my great friend" blah, blah, blah, I see our ship of state drifting aimlessly. When spending bills are hundreds of pages long and cover hundreds of earmarks and pork projects which are all light years distant from the original intent of the spending bill, I fantasize calling in an air strike on the whole damn chamber. When the Senate spends much of it's legislative day practicing inertia while "waiting for a speaker" or a "quorum call", I'd like to run through the Senate blasting a fog horn to awaken the members. And, when congressional members spend valuable hours, sometimes days, proposing and debating bills honoring the memory of George Washington or proclaiming the week as " Eat Your Vegetable Week ", my blood pressure builds beyond the medical help of all my hypertension drugs.

I want my Federal Lawmakers to be polite to each other and dignify those things that deserve special recognition but I want these matters to be done more efficiently on my taxpayer dime. The issues which effect my security, tax liability, and basic liberties should be the primary labor of Congress. Elected legislators must be more businesslike in their deliberations. Use simple English in the language of bills and eliminate all materials not directly related to the subject of the legislation. Senators and Representatives must spend their entire workday in the Chamber and be retired at the same age as regular working folks. Reducing their holidays and perks would help their efficiency too. Issues without great import to the nation must be adjudicated with less formality and speechifying.

In general the kinds of practises that distinguish successful businesses must be adopted in the halls of Congress. Productivity, less ceremony, standards of performance, accountability, and measurable results, must become standard to the operations of Congress. When a business begins to fail, management is changed or the business plan is altered. Whether by ballots or bullets, our Congress must improve it's handling of the peoples business and PDQ.

We cannot prevent local electortates of fools and incompetents from sending fools or incompetents to Congress. But, we can require all members adhere to a code of standards for better performance. Also, we should insist that the way business is conducted within the halls of Congress be modernized and streamlined. Whether the political winds blow from the left or the right, Americans deserve federal legislation which is timely, understandable, and more representative of the peoples will.

Finally, I'm reminded of the Capitol in Colonial Williamsburg and the explanation a historic interpreter gave of the buildings features. The interpreter explained that the Capitol Building featured no fireplaces, extra sources of light, powder or convenience rooms, and no comfortable lounges, and that this was all purposefully done. It was done to insure those colonial lawmakers got the "peoples business" done in an expedient manner without a lot of creature comforts. Perhaps our modern federal legislators should have a few less ceremonies and comforts and get on with the "peoples business".

Old New National Symbol

The Tea Party Movement needs a symbol to unite it's many bands of patriots. An old new symbol worthy of consideration is the fabulous All American Turkey.


Benjamin Franklin that great Renaissance man of our colonial era first proposed the turkey as our national bird but was defeated by the federalist eagle lobby. In addition to inventing keys, kites, electricity, the hundred dollar bill, stoves, and a line of pricey collectible porcelains & coins Franklin may have been "right on" about his turkey proposal.


While an eagle may strike "vogue" and heroic poses of strength and stability it's a delicate creature nearing extinction a few years ago. Obviously, for allowing itself to near extinction eagles cannot be among God's brightest creatures. As a wild animal eagles tend to be loners, scavengers, and bully's in their avian world. Eagle couples rear small families and tend to view the world from lofty heights. Eagles are protected by many federal laws. It's a crime to capture, eat, breed, or domesticate an eagle.


Turkeys however are more amenable birds. They are intimately related to American history and culture. A tasty turkey was an entree at our nations first Thanksgiving feast near Berkley Plantation in Virginia and later a main meat at Thanksgiving meals served in the northern colonies. Wild turkeys are beautiful and peaceful forest animals raising large families of little gobblers. While they can fly most turkeys remain well grounded to Terra Firma. As a hunters prey turkeys are brilliant in their camouflage and elusiveness. There are no records of turkeys attacking tourists in a national park or bullying their bird neighbors. Their domesticated cousins provide billions of political correct meals of delicious white and dark meat. Our entire Thanksgiving Holiday is centered around eating and reheating turkey and turkey related leftovers. Turkey farming provides great employment opportunities and millions in sales to our national economy. Finally, a turkey is the only animal on the planet to get an annual audience and pardon from the President of the United States.


As a national symbol the eagle lacks the very down to earth and practical aspects of the turkey. The major political party's have totally nonsensical animal tokens which are sillier symbols then an eagle. The Democrat's jackass was probably a Spanish import and God knows why the GOP chose an elephant to represent their political party.


The turkey then is a tremendous old new idea for the Tea Party and perhaps the whole USA. It's origins as our national bird comes from a time in our history when a tea party meant a great deal more then a beverage break with a few cookies. So don't be a turkey support the turkey.

The 28th Amendment

The Constitution requires 38 States (of 50) to convene a Constitutional Convention. Currently, 35 States have lawsuits filed and pending against the United States. Amending the Constitution is legal and can be a quick process. The 26Th Amendment granting 18 year olds the vote breezed to approval in 3 months and a few days.

For too long Congress has exempted it's members from laws applicable to all citizens, eg. Obama Care. Also, Congress grants it's members benefits, eg. retirement & pay raises, far in excess of any benefits available to the general public. Its time Congressional members live by the same laws and rules it legislates for it's 310 million citizens. We need a Constitutional Convention NOW to send a simple message to every officeholder whether they be Democrat, Republican, or Independent. The message is contained in a 28Th Amendment currently in wide distribution.

Proposed 28Th Amendment to the US Constitution

" Congress shall make no law that applies to the citizens of the United States that does not apply equally to the Senators and/or Representatives; and, Congress shall make no law that applies to the Senators and/or Representatives that does not apply equally to the citizens of the United States. "

It's short, direct, and addresses the unfairness and excesses evident in so many self serving actions by Congress. Write, e mail, fax, call, or twitter your Congressional member(s) and State Assembly member(s) to support and sponsor this Amendment or give you a written letter of their objections.

We can and must make changes to our government to insure future generations of Americans enjoy the freedoms and liberty of our great and exceptional nation.

Remembering JFK

I believe November 23, 1963 was a day many baby boomers lost their innocence and youthful optimism. It was a long time ago day when the youthful optimism of many got washed away in a weekend of tears.

At the time, I was a senior in a small southern Catholic high school. John Fitzgerald Kennedy was a great hero to the students, and a living saint to the nuns. He was young, handsome, and married to a fashionable and lovely lady. With two beautiful children, Jack and Jackie lived a life of incredible class and richness. His speeches were articulate, brimming with wonderful ideas and promises of a great future. At the time he seemed the president for the young, and was a refreshing change from the grandfatherly figures of Ike and Truman.

The day of his shooting our school closed at lunchtime and Sister Gervase urged students to pray at nearby St. Paul's Church. Many did. However, within minutes of the first reports his death was confirmed. I remember walking the sidewalk of High Street in a daze and noticing sadness on many faces and even tears as strangers exchanged the latest tidbits of news. It was a beautiful Fall day. The sky was a brilliant deep blue and streaming wispy clouds were immaculate in their whiteness. I wondered why God delivered such a beautiful day to accompany a moment of such immense tragedy and sorrow.

For the next three or four days radios played somber music, a few television stations maintained full time broadcasts and re-broadcasts of the tragic news. It was a surreal weekend filled with sad images and reports. I wondered how the nation could celebrate Thanksgiving the next week. Somehow we did.

As the days have delivered us to the future we've seen many more national tragedies. We've learned a lot that was not so saintly about JFK. His place in history may not be as lofty as we once imagined. However, that single terrible event in the Fall of 1963 was a rude awakening for baby boomers. I believe the hearts and minds of my generation were marked with sadness and a loss of youthful optimism on November 23rd, 1963.

Santa Claus must be a Republican.

This narrative is based on a few minutes research and good memories. It is not recommended for those subject to swooning over politically incorrect reports.

That obese and jolly fellow decked out in red robes with white animal fur trimmings is Republican Santa Claus. He magically appears this time of year and may sport other names which all translate to Santa Claus in American English. We're not sure the date he came along but it was a short time after Jesus Christ lived and died. The idea for Santa was the merging of a religious philosophy and the very Republican need to produce things and jobs. Whatever the origins Santa was a terrific invention. The Santa Claus character is 100% as Republican as Saints Goldwater or Reagan. Republican Santa has produced steady and growing employment and industrial production for centuries.

The Santa tradition has existed for hundreds of years as an integral part of our major winter festival known as Christmas. Billions celebrate this holiday even though many lack specific knowledge of Christ or the Mass. Christians, Jews, and Muslims know and revere Jesus Christ as a great prophet and or savior. Some believe Santa Claus is a modern Christlike manifestation of miracles and giving. At any rate The Claus Man racks up major sales worldwide each and every fourth quarter.

Here's how we know Santa is a Republican. First, Santa gathers trillions in donations from secret sources all year long. He lives and works at an undisclosed location far off the grid. His compound of shops, cottages, and stables is self sufficient and uses a maximum of all the surrounding natural resources. He maintains a worldwide intelligence network. Able to identify which children have been naughty or nice he dispenses a lump of coal to the really bad kids and uses the savings to give the good children better gifts. With a minimum of red tape he makes deliveries to billions within a tight schedule of just twenty four hours. The delivered gifts arrive neatly wrapped, correctly labeled, and undamaged. Most of the parcels sport his favorite colors of red and green. He uses his animals as beasts of burden to pull his loaded sleds of Christmas cargo. However, he offers his reindeer three hundred and sixty some days of rest in return for their one night of intense work. Santa has a traditional female wife and a large number of adopted children and or helpers of various ethnic and racial backgrounds. Following an apprentice program his children/helpers become highly skilled and disciplined toymaking craftsmen. Republican Santa is a competent administrator able to read and turn thousands of letters and requests into a clear plan of toy production and labor utilization. He is simply a one man whiz of efficiency. Despite economic downturns he consistently delivers more Christmas morning joy then any one else on the planet.

A few years ago the Democrats created their version of Santa but he failed. First, the source of all donations had to be revealed. If some children received less then others, rules were required to spread the wealth. Next, the not so secret Santa compound had to meet certain environmental standards and this reduced the funds available for gifts. Democrat Santa and his hundred advisers felt it was important to a child's self esteem to abolish punishment for the naughty kids. This required the expense of replacing lumps of coal with expensive gifts. Further, to show no sexual bias Democrat Santa was compelled to have several life partners of various persuasions. Of course expensive wrapping paper sporting a rainbow of colors was mandated for all gift packages. Naturally, all his animals and workers were union members and their annual demands for more benefits and pay was strategically scheduled for December 24Th. Meeting the union demands caused a further drain on the gifts budget. To maintain union rules the reindeer were allowed a fifteen minute break from sleighing every hour on the big night. All the incoming lists and requests were subject to committee reviews which delayed Democrat Santa in ordering toy materials. Finally, to honor diversity Santa had to accomodate some new and bizarre holidays. Finding giant seed pods, wooden animal masks, and scantily dressed dancing men required a lot of additional expense and time. All of these factors resulted in a depleted gift budget which required buying inferior Chinese and Mexican toys. Unfortunately, Democrat Santa needed four or five days to complete his delivery obligations and this was a universal disappointment. Needless to say, Democrat Santa Claus lasted only a few years.

Democrats Dumb as Road Kill Deer

This past weekend I traveled across the Commonwealth. As I motored from the coastal plain through the Piedmont past the rolling hills to the mountains of Virginia I observed a sad sight along the highways. Every 10 or 20 miles a white tailed deer was seen dead at the roads edge. Many does, a few fawns and bucks slaughtered by the unrelenting traffic. Obviously, during the rut and with so many cars and trucks this tragic outcome is predictable but it was nonetheless shocking to see so many large animals crushed and crumpled.

Although peaceful and beautiful creatures they lack an important mental ability. For all their Bambi appeal and those huge soft brown eyes deer cannot resist or avoid the bright lights signalling fatal vehicular collisions. While many have probably observed their kindred dying in the motorways something prevents them from learning to avoid death by car crash. Many forest animals are similarily afflicted but seeing these large handsome deer killed is a disturbing sight.

These dead deer remind me of die hart Democrats. These folks have long been hypnotized by the dreams of spending your tax dollars to make the world a place of their ideals. The brightest glowing star of their aspirations was and is Barrack Obama. In riveting teleprompter speeches and dramatic stage settings the blinding light of Obama was swept to the presidency. Here his inexperience, arrogance, and bad ideas wrecked the economy, diminished our international standing, and reopened the old wounds of class warfare and racism.

Despite the last two years of obvious failures many millions of democrats will vote again for the Obama agenda in the upcoming congressional elections. Like those deer charging wildly into traffic these dumb democrats, with brains which should give them a mental edge over forest creatures, will fall prey to the bright lights of more Obama foolishness. God and or Nature gave men larger brains then animals but many democrats must use their extra brain cells to remember lottery numbers or sports scores. Any knowledge of the Constitution, a free market economy, or "American Exceptionalism" would tell them to avoid the appealing, yet deadly bright lights of more Obama socialism.

Memories of an Altar Boy ...

A very, very long time ago I was an altar boy.

As one of our instructional booklets stated, "The altar boy is indeed one of the pages at the Court of the King of Kings ". In addition to this lofty role we got intensive training in bell ringing, kneeling, routing oneself properly to assist Father, serving up the wine, using a paten to insure the holy host never hit the floor, and many more pious duties. The altar boy instructions spanned many weeks. Latin was our language and memorizing the Latin responses was tough for a bunch of ten year old boys. The Latin lesson books gave us simple English sounds and spellings to properly pronounce the strange words and phrases but no translations. It would be years before I discovered what I was really saying and what the priest was saying. Some of the fellows cracked under the pressure of Latin and mastering all the diagrammed moves and they quit the vocation.

After many classes, rote memorization, and role playing we were tested. We all eventually passed and Mr. Bernard Hosier and jolly Father Thomas Finnegan certified our graduation with a father and son communion breakfast. As one of our learning books stated, " You belong to one of the oldest and most select orders in the world, numbering heroes and statesmen, athletes, martyrs and movie stars among its members ". The date was April 14Th, 1957 and we proudly became members of that "select order".

To many of us, donning the black cassock and white surplice made us pretty important guys. Some considered themselves junior priests. At the mass we were in the center of the action and the center of attention. Always fronting the congregation we helped Father transform the bread and wine into the body and blood. It was exciting to recite all the mysterious Latin knowing full well that most in the congregation hadn't a clue. The experience was made even more mystical when the service required the burning of incense and chanting, often dreadful, of the priest.

At ten we were major participants in an age old ceremony that involved the magic of turning wafers and wine into something supernatural, using a secret set of words, handling fire, smoke, and liquor. Being an altar boy was simply the best job any ten or eleven year old could occupy.

Holy Days, high masses, and processions were extra special because they combined the incense and chanting with marching around the church or up and down the street. Squads of other altar boys, school kids, nuns, parents, priests, and those glorious Knights of Columbus men with their sashes, feathery hats, silk capes, and swords combined to form a holy parade. Usually the altar boys would lead the way carrying crosses, large candles, and other holy objects. Non Catholics and other regular folks driving along or passing would stop and stare at our holy passage. Some would shout encouragement or blast their car horns at our blessed spectacle of faith.

But it wasn't always easy or glorious. There were many freezing mornings lingering outside the locked church waiting to serve the early daily mass. If joined by another altar boy we would pass the time skating over the ice in our shoes or knocking down icicles. The early mass priest could often be grouchy and impatient until a few gulps of "before" mass wine. Early mass celebrants were usually limited to a few serious nuns from the convent and a handful of old people. These folks watched our every gesture and the nuns reminded us later of our errors when they became our teachers. St. Therese was a church and a school and our nickname "Little Flower" often lead to teasing from the bigger public school boys on the bus or down at Karps Drugstore. Fortunately, none of us become martyrs but we did bear a few insults and bruises for our altarboyhood.

In a few years girls, CYO dances, girls, athletic, academic, and girl pursuits ended our altar boy careers. New fresh and younger boys would take our places.

Now, it's been decades and many changes to the mass and church. Today we speak in English , sing a lot, touch and join hands, and freely talk in church. The ladies no longer wear hats, you can wear shorts, and they hold masses on Saturdays but rarely on weekdays. Most of the statues are gone and the Knights of Columbus rarely march in their colorful outfits. The altar boys have been replaced by altar helpers who are men and women, boys and girls dressed in regular street clothes or an occasional cassock or surplice.

The memories are good and I especially remember some of my fellow altar boys; Jerry, Ron, Bart, Sammy, Calvin, Michael, Joseph, Rudy, Robert, Joe and Tommy to name a few. I'll never forget you guys or our experiences. We had our time and it was a good time serving, "at the Court of the King of Kings ".

NASCAR - RICHMOND NOTES and NOTS

I've always enjoyed NASCAR racing on TV. The speed, the driver personalities, and the ever present chance of vehicular mayhem have always been compelling reasons to suffer through endless TV commercials.

Pulling from my "bucket list" of things to experience before my "Final Lap" I decided the need to speed off and attend a NASCAR race.

First, expect to spend some money. Buying tickets near the start/finish line and not a mile up in the sky high section was an almost two hundred dollar investment for two. Next, plan on losing a good portion of your hearing. Seven rows up from the track without headphones or earplugs, Corbin (my grandson) and I became deaf after just a few laps. However, most surprising and interesting was the before, during, and post race hoopla. You see, I discovered this isn't just a car race. Rather, it's a celebration of beer, exotic tailgating foods, patriotism, merrymaking of every rating, beer, and uncensored capitalism.

Actually, I found the celebration aspect more intriguing then the cars whizzing around the track. Here were over one hundred thousand souls spending a lot of money, drinking oceans of beer and eating truckloads of food. Also, people were buying tons of souvenir shirts, hats, and trinkets. The array of vendors was impressive, diverse, and fun.

Corbin and I enjoyed a fried bologna sandwich, cotton candy, and mellow yellow drinks. We raced each other on the ultra cool NASCAR simulator. Here I lost every race and was most proficient at flipping and scraping along the wall of the simulated racetrack. At the Toyota Hospitality Center I could sit a few hours while Corbin threw beanbags at a hole in an inclined board. We jumped and hooted to catch t-shirts, hats and other articles of crapola. A big part of the entertainment was the people watching. We enjoyed watching a young lady with green hair and multiple rings pierced all over her face competing in a dance contest. Naturally, lots of tattoos and exposed skin from both sexes were on glorious display. Then there was the fat young guy with a rebel flag cape carrying a wooden duck ... yes, a wooden duck ! The spectacle of people, sounds, and unusual sights was wonderful.

At first I was put off by the endless array of sponsors. A big brown truck had to race around the oval to deliver the race starting flag. Every booth, car, celebrity person, and giveaway trinket was heavily laden with product endorsements and logos. The whole event was a giant commercial for one product/service or another.

After a while I began to realize that this was the beauty and strength of the race and our great nation. After all, America's first permanent settlement at Jamestown was a money making adventure ! Freedom of religion was a grand idea but our first national pursuit was to find the gold.

Some people say and have written that car racing appeals to a class of sports fans somewhere between normal folk and knuckle draggers. I strongly disagree. The NASCAR race in Richmond was about good hard working people playing hard and noisy, and spending lots of money. When old glory was displayed or a patriotic hymn sung the silence and respect from the masses was church like and genuine. As our evening ended I decided these NASCAR people were a giant reason for the greatness and strength of our prosperity and culture.

As Corbin and I suffered our hour long journey out of the parking lot we tried to find a radio volume we could hear. We couldn't. Finally, pulling onto Laburnum Avenue I told Corbin how I felt our NASCAR experience , in my opinion, reflected what was great about our nation and our fellow citizens.

Corbin never responded. He probably couldn't hear me or in his temporary deafness was probably happy to be spared my philosophizing. Looking a second time I noticed that he was fast asleep.

JOLlIFF ROAD CONFESSIONS - ANK and OLLIE ...

I remember my cousin Bobby and I liked to mess with our grandad. His name was Ank.

One trick we pulled on the old man was to pop a round hubcap off his 54 Pontiac and insert a few rocks. Once underway Ank methodically shifted through the gears and as the car sped up the rocks began to tumble. This created a clanging banging and annoying sound.

In the backseat Bobby and I muffled our snickers with coughing and wheezing sounds. We were satisfied with the anguish we had created for Ank. The poor old man would slow and speed up. All the while, sticking his head out the window carefully listening to the unsettling noises. We could hardly contain our merriment as Ank downshifted and rolled into Ollie's.

Now Ollie was one of Ank's oldest friends. He and Ank were old Navy buddies from the two great wars. Ollie was the only mechanic allowed to service the Chieftan. Well, Ollie poked under the hood, slid under the car, and checked the car's fluids. He reported nothing amiss and told Ank he was going to take the car for a spin around the block. We waited and began to get a little nervous. You see, Ollie was a superb mechanic and Ank had no qualms about corporal punishment. Understandably, we worried our little mischief might be discovered. Ten minutes passed before Ollie returned and as he stepped out of the car he wore a big smile and winked at Bobby and I. "Well Frank", he began, "cars OK and your boys can tell you the rest later ".

He handed Ank the guilty pebbles and keys. It was a very quiet ride from downtown Portsmouth to Jolliff Road. Of course we confessed fully and immediately. Bobby and I got a helluva good whipping with fresh switches from a weeping willow bush. As the sunshine melted into the horizon, Bobby and I promised each other to never again pull any tricks on Ank. To this day I'm not sure if my sore rear end or the realization of swift and certain justice lead to that decision.

Untold Stories of Vietnam Part 1

Whenever I encounter groups of Vietnam vets it seems many have stories of derring do and bravery.

At times I feel I was the only fellow to have a thirteen month tour WITHOUT experiencing great adventures in combat and espionage. During my time in the military and Vietnam I was one of those lucky guys in the rear with the beer and gear. My Vietnam experience was tame and evidently rare. However, I suspect my war experiences were more the norm for a Vietnam service member than that of the combat boys.  At the time some said it took 8 or 9 support troops to maintain every combatant. I was one of the eight or nine and it's high time our underwhelming stories be told.

Rather then suffer the uncertainty of the draft I joined the US Army in early 1966. At nineteen I never questioned the reasons for a war in Southeast Asia. I could hear my nation calling and felt obliged. My my father was a decorated veteran of WWII and I never doubted my responsibility to family and country. In reality very few in our generation initially protested this undeclared war. War protestors were another minority that captured most media attention.

Being afraid of bodily harm I felt joining would give me a choice other then combat. It meant a three year commitment so I sought an army job far from the front lines. Based on testing I demonstrated good scores in clerical and verbal skills. Therefore, I was assigned to a school which would mold me into a personnel clerk. Later in attempting to glamorize our jobs we called ourselves "Remington Raiders". For those unaware "Remington" at the time was a major manufacturer of manuel typewriters. After several months of intensive training I could bang out 8 or ten words per minute. .

After basic training and typewriting school it was on to Fort Benning Georgia. Fort Benning was and is a famous military post for it's infantry and airborne schools. Here, nearly 300 of us were brought together to form the 516th Personnel Service Company. We were a band of clerk brothers gathered from all over the nation. For many of us the diversity and cultural differences we shared strengthened our realization and appreciation of America being a great melting pot. We all knew we were staging for a tour in Vietnam because everyone soon realized that jungle boots and lightweight uniforms wasn't standard for those shipping out to Germany.

In a few days to our surprise our company commander was introduced with great fanfare. He was a brick of a middle aged man probably 6'5" and a solid muscled giant of at least 250 pounds.  His standard facial expression was a scowl. The color of his face and unusually flat forehead was red. His short crewcut styled hair bristled in a color somewhere between blond and yellow. His name was Captain Tucker.

Soon the stories and rumors of Captain Tucker became common knowledge. It was said he was a highly decorated veteran of Korea. His flat forehead was formed by several metal plates necessitated by combat wounds. Further these plates, it was said, kept his head in one piece. Also, it was revealed  he had been passed over twice for promotion to major and this assignment was his last chance. In a matter of days it became apparent that Captain Tucker was hell bent into forging the clerks of the 516th into the fiercest gang of office jockeys in the history of the army.

First, we began to have extra full pack marching exercises, extra firing range practices, and extra running exercises. This seemed more than we had endured in our basic training days. Hell, it seemed to be a training and conditioning mode on par with the airborne guys jumping off buildings and out of planes. Second, we spent less time improving our clerical skills. Third, and most disturbing we received orders that our unit would be participating in jungle warfare training at Camp Shelby Mississippi. While Fort Benning was one of the hottest spots in Georgia it couldn't match the addition of humidity that Camp Shelby offered. In the swamps of Mississippi we crawled in mud, trooped through swamps, ate canned rations, lost great blocks of sleep, and battled insects 24/7. The crawling and flying bugs of this country had no problem penetrating all protective netting and resisting every available insect spray. After two weeks of this misery we departed Mississippi leaving any remaining baby fat which had survived basic training. To a man we felt that Vietnam might be a better assignment then Southern Mississippi. Soon many began to wonder about Captain Tucker and his plan for his band of bookkeepers.

Shortly our official orders arrived. We were only allowed to know that our destination was the west coast. For many of us it was our first airplane trip. The bumps and twists of the giant airliner shook my nerves. Not finding my rosary, I used a black comb to count off the "Hail Marys" and "Our Fathers". I prayed my praying would keep our plane from falling out of the sky. Once safely landed we were trucked to a seaside location and marched aboard a very old gray ship. Some say it was a survivor from several wars past. For the next month I witnessed every color and consistency of vomit imaginable. Somehow, I never got sick despite the splattered food matter which was a constant impediment to walking any deck or stairwell. As our voyage moved to it's final days our destination was revealed. The anti climatic announcement that our destination was Vietnam surprised no one. The marines and army infantrymen aboard shouted their approval and spent hours joyfully chattering. Along with a few buddies I was scared to death.

When we could see the sand and green of Vietnam, Captain Tucker ordered the Company to don their combat gear and take up arms. Obviously, we were being equipped to assault the beaches however we were issued no ammunition. A bouncing rectangular shaped boat came up alongside our ship. We tumbled and were herded aboard the unstable landing craft. Still no issue of bullets, bayonets, or hand grenades. Once on board we were blind to the sea or coastline as the back, front, and sides of the craft towered a few feet higher then the tallest man. It seemed crazy that a bunch of clerks and typists would be the first to offload and charge the beaches. We had left the marines and army combat guys on the ship. Had Captain Tucker pulled a few strings to enhance his resume by transforming his office boys into warriors ? Was our landing designed as sacrifical unarmed targets for the enemy to spare the marines and army infantrymen ?

As the choking plumes of black diesel smoke swirled we began our blind movement away from the ship and towards land. My mind raced and I wondered if we encountered the enemy (VC-viet congs)  what were we to do ? Use our rifle butts, slap at them with our mess kits, beat them with our heavy helmets ? During our shaking ride to the shore the Captain was shouting words of bravado. The NCO's and junior officers were rousing us with more vocal encouragements. It all seemed confusing and I realized I would be immediately killed especially since our rifles were unloaded and unsheathed of bayonets. Then our landing boat slid onto the sand and Captain Tucker bellowed that we run forward and maintain our orderly formation. I felt my only hope from destruction would be my poor buddies flanked to my side, front, and rear. Surely they would get it before me, but this awful thought brought little comfort. Then the heavy front of the landing craft flopped down and at the head of his 516th Personnel Service Company Captain Tucker hollered, "follow me men". He charged off the boat and we all blindly followed. At that moment I was petrified and feared awful bodily injury or death was imminent.

Running like hell and expecting all matter of mayhem we charged forward. Soon a few quick glances to the left and right revealed a village full of Vietnamese civilians, children and unarmed American soldiers. It was an astonishing scene of normalcy. People were eating, drinking, carrying on conversations, and moving in and out of shops. As we rushed headlong behind our Captain there were smiles, laughter, and hoots of derision greeting us. Was their merriment the exhibition of the new army guys charging full tilt through a peaceful seaside village in full battle gear ? Looking ahead we finally saw our objective. We were sprinting towards six or eight green grey army buses.


Once safely aboard the buses we headed out to our tented living area at Cam Ranh Bay. This was our first full day in Vietnam and lead by Captain Tucker things would get more interesting in the coming months.

MINORITY RULE - THE NEW MAJORITY ?

What the Hell ! In the last 48 hours two huge rulings have confirmed the new normal is the minority becoming the majority. In Missouri over 70% of voters vote in a fashion which clearly disapproves of the Obama Healthcare Plan. In California a single gay judge reverses the states seven million voters who clearly struck down the same sex marriage question in a clear referendum by California citizens.

And the trend continues. By every measure, US citizens in poll after poll affirm that illegal immigrants are illegal and should not be allowed safe harbor and the benefits of US citizenship. Yet Obama, Holder, and a minority cabal of leftists insist that illegal is OK. Arizona is slammed by the Feds for merely trying to secure it's borders and do what the federal government is unwilling to do. Congress gives the Mexican President a standing ovation for denouncing a state of our union. To get easy votes the minority demands that the normal rules of citizenship be suspended.

Despite protests, polls, town hall meetings, and the loud voices by a majority the minority continues to bend reality their way. Ridiculous and wasteful spending bills are steadily being passed in Congress despite millions upon millions of protest letters, e-mails, and phone calls.

A mosque near the sacred grounds of the Twin Towers is OK by New York's Mayor and New York City's building commission. This Mosque is set to have a construction start date of 9/11/2011 and yet rebuilding at Ground Zero is nearly a decade old with no clear sight of a completion date. The majority of Americans view this mosque an absolute insult to New York City and the nation. Known terrorists linger comfortably in our jails and are allowed a limbo from justice by the current Administration. Czars and out of session appointments are made to insure unqualified questionable members of the Obama clique get political power without the approval of Congress.

Leading Democrats have publicly stated that the possibility of a "lame duck" session will be their no holds, "what the hell", last chance to ram through cap and trade legislation and other laws clearly bent to further separate the national wealth from the productive to the welfare class. Frank and Dodd who legislated the demise of responsible home ownership maintain their power and are celebrated while they legislate to spread the wealth to the credit unworthy. Crooked politicians like Charlie Rangel and Maxine Waters are allowed continued tenure while the ethics machinery of Congress slowly moves.

Given the current course of events the elections of 2010 and 2012 may be ineffective in reversing this minority over majority situation. While the minority should always get a fair hearing and full representation our republic must be operated by the majority vote. If the upcoming elections fail to reverse this current trend our Constitution clearly stipulates and approves other measures which will be ugly but effective. Keep your powder dry but keep it nearby !

Cheers for the Commonwealth of Virginia

Even if the litigation initiated by Virginia AG Cuchinelli is shut down by the Obama Administration it marks a trend which bodes well for our liberty. With Arizona and now Virginia, Obama can only hope the other 56 or 57 states of his union won't challenge some of his socialist schemes. Already CNN & MSNBC are sniping and personally attacking the messenger and not the message comming out of Virginia. The reaction of the uber liberal press is predictable and a good signal that Virginia's action hit a deep nerve in lefty land. Allowing all the benefits of US citizenship to people who are "illegal" aliens is so wrong it's laughable.

Also to Virginia's credit a challenge has been posted to our federal government on it's plan of managing a universal "cradle to grave" health care program. Another incredibly stupid idea considering the empire of federal bureaucrats who consistently mismanage the much simpler tasks of running AMTRAK or the USPS.

Today I'm proud of Virginia's actions and proud to be a Virginian. The old " Mother of Presidents" commonwealth is showing some of the spirit which helped us break away from an oppressive super power some 235 years ago. When will Obama and his donkey and elephant friends in Washington understand the American people are at their wits end with an administration hell bent on destroying capitalism and personal liberty.

Lets pray the 2010 & 2012 elections will clearly restore our republuic and it's core principles.

VIRGINIA BEACH CRUE FEST CONCERT

My grandson Corbin won two tickets to the Crue Fest Concert and since his dad was out to sea I got invited. Corbin won the tickets by calling in first to a radio station and correctly identifying Motley Crue as the group hammering out," Smoking in the Bathroom". Corbin plays bass guitar and has a pretty good appreciation of rock and roll given his thirteen years.

Sunday afternoon was stormy and rainy when we arrived at the outdoor pavillion. Armed with umbrellas, beach chairs, and towels we trudged through the rain to seek out our lawn seating. As we neared the entrance a parking lot attendant told us umbrellas and lawn chairs were not permiitted. Sloshing back from the car free of the forbidden items we entered the pavillion area absolutley soaked.

To our good fortune the usher in our designated area allowed us to take seats slightly under the roof of the pavillion. Instead of a constant pelting of rain we only received the wind borne mist.

The show featured several other bands performing before Motley Crue's climax. I had never heard of Papa Roach, 6 AM, or BuckCherry but Corbin explained these bands were alternative and hard rock musicians representing and playing a brand of hard rock that was popular during the late seventies and eighties. The growing crowd confirmed his assesment as most attendees appeared as late thirties to mid forties people.

I found the tatooed young ladies most interesting. From my era (1960's) girls with tatoos were rare and usually the artwork was a small heart, flower, or shamrock placed on the lower leg, ankle, or part of the body not normally seen. These modern rocker babes had tatooes with screaming skulls, dragons, crosses and eagles spurting forth blood, tears and all manner of lightning, knives and spears. It was amazing to see so many attractive women splashed with so much permanent color all over their arms, legs, backs, and chests. I estimated that at least 40 or 50% of the women sported body art.

As expected the music was loud with lyrics I couldn't understand expect for the repeated use of the "f" word. Many of my fellow concert goers did know the lyrics and screamed the words which I still couldn't understand. The musicians in each group appeared to be incredibly underfeed, highly energetic and tatooed to the max. Corbin said the words weren't as important as the skill of the individual musicians with their guitars and drums. During parts of each set a majority of the audience repeatedly flashed a two finger salute to the band which Corbin explained as something about hell, the devil or satanic horns ?

As storms flashed and boomed the dark came and I noticed the very large contingent of people happily frolicking in the grassy, muddy areas of the ampitheater. There was mud wrestling, a few beer induced brawls and many middle aged costumed wannabe hard rockers. People under the roof had become equally festive with seat dancing, howling, head bucking, and beer chugging happening as far as I could see. Despite the terrible weather the crowd in and out of the rain was massive by the time Motley Crue thundered onstage.

Motley Crue was as loud and "f" engorged as the other bands but they came with two massive screens displaying their stage show and symbols I soon found distressing. Upside down crosses, President Bush flashing the universal one finger salute, pictures of Jesus and Mary in odd and unattractive poses and flashes of devil figures and pitchforks dancing over the screens in tune with the booming sounds. I began to feel uncomfortable and of the opinion that a lot of this was distasteful and not entertaining. Obviously I was in a minority as the crowds were in a pitched fit all standing up with their two finger signals flashing.

To this point I had enjoyed the show and the interesting musician/fan mix but Motley Crue's
anti-Christian, anti-Bush film flashes left me depressed. Suddenly all the cold wetness that had been there the last 3 or 4 hours made me hurt. I thought that perhaps this adoring generation would be the ones to finally push our American culture to disaster.

My stupor was distrubed by Corbin telling me we should leave early and beat the crowd out of the parking lot. As we drove away I asked him his impression of the evenings entertainment and he said the music was fantastic. I pressed the issue of the foul language and symbols on the screen and he gave me an answer which represents the wisdom and long view a thirteen year old can impart to a sixty two year old. He said, " Grandy remember it was just a show ".

Later we enjoyed greasy and sweet breakfast foods at Denny's and I wondered how many generations of old people had been scared out of their wits by acts, performances, and music which to their children and grandchildren were "just a show".

CONGRESS 9% APPROVAL RATING

The new Democratic Congress of 2006 made two promises; getting us out of Iraq and lowering gasoline prices.
Thank goodness we increased our presence and success in Iraq but gas prices have almost doubled since 06. Good job Pelosi and Reed - your congressional 9% approval rating is probably a tad lower then the ratings for a communicable disease. All the while, the demon for all Democrats, President Bush, maintains a favorable rating much higher then the Democratically controlled House and Senate.

This week Rep. Kucinich will re introduce bills of impeachment against President Bush. Other politicos will surely blast a lot of hot air about what drugs athletes should be taking, why capitalists should be taxed to oblivion, and why Americans should accept a lower standard of living and embrace all the "green" looniness of the Gore/Euro/Hollywood crackpots. Simply stated, our federal government is broken and full of jackasses more interested in their re-election and legacy then the basic security and material good of the American people.

At the Yorktown Virginia July 4th parade I yelled to each politician to drill now, do nuclear, do refineries and let our raghead adversaries eat their damn oil. A few frowned back and a few gave thumbs up. Unfortunately the time has come to embarass, harass, and force the donkeys and elephants to change their slothful devotion to lobbyists or find new work.

We are the people who smashed King George, Hitler, Hirohito, and the Communists to hold and extend our freedoms and economic miracles to billions of other earthlings. We are the Americans who warred against ourselves and paid a mighty price in human lives to make the union free. While not perfect we remain the class act of the globe and millions dream, scheme, and fight to become USA Americans. Despite a few hollywood whiners few Americans ever leave America. We are the greatest nation on the earth blessed by a God of many religions and our mission and responsibility is to endure and pass our blessings to future generations. United there is nothing we cannot accomplish and the braying of ineffectual politicans of every stripe can be replaced with more effective responsive leaders.

So raise hell, raise your voices, and most importantly vote for some new folks in November. We the people must make our current lot of politicans uncomfortable and very afraid of their re-election.

TODAYS BIG RACE.

This morning while motoring to Walgreens I noticed a huge white garbage truck following me too close. As I sped up the refuse vehicle pulled into the passing lane and accelerated. Not wishing to smell the trash and oily diesel I sped up to avoid being passed. The garbage truck matched my speed and we raced for the lead without exceeding the speed limit. I looked into the cab of the truck but the driver and his assistant didn't acknowledge my glance. They maintained serious stares on the road ahead.

Suddenly, I got the feeling this was really a race and these garbage collection guys were serious. Driving my Camry in the best traditions of NASCAR Camry drivers I maintained my lead until slower traffic ahead allowed the garbage driver to take the lead. Quickly I got past the lap traffic (slow pokes) and caught up with the trash truck just before it made a left turn into a neighborhood of waiting garbage cans.

In that moment and in my mind my four door, four cylinder sedan won the race and ate up the trash trucks challenge. I safely proceeded to Walgreens to use my coupons for Prilosec and Tide. The remainder of the day was less exciting.