September 9, 2019

This year’s monsoon season has been quite the bust here in the Valley of the Sun, and no one seems to know what to make of it. Normally you’ll get your share of dust storms and hopefully some rain from thunderstorms – where I live has always seemed to have a protective dome over it, causing the storms to move south and north of us – but this year there has been a dearth of both. Just lots of very hot weather. Not sure if this is related to the fading El Nino or not, but I’ll tell you, I’m ready for some fall weather, even if that means it drops to the 90s. This 108+ sh*t is getting kinda old.

The firing of Red Sox GM Dave Dombrowski means one thing and one thing only: the manager on the hottest seat starting next year is going to be Alex Cora. Sure, he and Dombrowski pulled all the right strings last year, but both of them have been lackluster in their handling of the 2019 season. Dombrowski made some bad signings and made the obvious mistake of thinking the club could get by without a bona fide closer, for sure, but Cora’s team has been listless at times, horrendous in fundamentals (most especially when it comes to baserunning) and he looks out of his league out there. The Sox better come out of the gates hot in 2020 or Cora will be among the season’s first casualties.

…along those same lines, I have to believe Mookie Betts is going to be traded in the offseason. For one thing, his offense has been replaced by the emergence of third baseman Rafael Devers; more importantly, the Sox need to replenish their minor leagues as a result o Dombrowski’s moves over the past couple of years. The trick will be to find a team whose minor league talent matches their willingness to pay someone like Betts, who doesn’t seem to have any desire to be tied down to any particular organization.

I have to tell you, I’ve really gotten into the music of the Bee Gees lately. Not sure how it started, actually – I’ve always liked their music but never really felt the need to take a deep dive into their catalog. But one night I was trolling YouTube and came across “I’ve Gotta Get A Message To you” and “Nights On Broadway” – two great songs by any measure – and watched a documentary on them that I found positively fascinating. Then I listened to several tracks from two of their pre-disco era, Odessa and Trafalgar, and a couple from their post-disco years, especially One, and I was hooked. Most folks will recognize Barry Gibb’s vocals, but I find Robin Gibb’s voice particular fascinating in its kind of theatrical vulnerability.

Great post over at Ace of Spades on the folk music split that occurred in 1965 when Dylan went electric at the Newport Folk Festival. The whole thing is still kind of akin to something apocryphal in nature, but the fact was, Bob didn’t feel like being pigeon-holed into the “folk” thing espoused by the likes of Joan Baez and Pete Seeger; he wanted to be his own artist and explore where he could go, and, being true leftists, they never really forgave him for it. As OregonMuse writes in his post:

I don’t think the definitive book has been written on the early folkies all being a bunch of rat bastard commies. The closest is probably Commies: “A Journey Through the Old Left, the New Left and the Leftover Left” by Ron Radosh, now OOP.

I never really took Seeger, Baez, Buffy St. Marie, and all those folkies seriously. I thought they were a bunch of frauds and still do. Because they’re leftists, and whether they’re musicians, or politicians, or climate-change activists, they’re all just a bunch of hypocrites. Others in that genre at the time, like Gordon Lightfoot and Joni Mitchell, their politics aside, always seemed to me to have a little more gravitas and creativity.

Hard to know what to make of what’s going on in Hong Kong recently, but I have to believe President Trump is a looming large presence in the background. Anyone who thinks China is holding the upper hand here doesn’t understand the sea change being brought by a president who is willing to roll the dice to reverse decades of Chinese chicanery in monetary policy and trade. They really don’t know what to make of Trump because he’s unlike anyone in American politics they’ve ever dealt with. Unlike the presidents of the past going back to Bill Clinton, Trump isn’t willing to take bribes or favors on behalf of China’s global interests. You know they’d love to see a Democrat win in 2020, but even they have to see that the current slate of Democratic challengers is not going to get that job done. So they’re in a funk.

Rot in hell, Robert Mugabe. If there was ever an argument to be made for a return to colonialism, the kind of teapot despot Mugabe was its poster-child. He was a corrupt, immoral thug – the kind the Brits back in the day would have led out to the main entrance into town and strung up for all to see. It’s an unfortunate thing that this kind of thing is happening all over Africa, a continent that, outside of precious few instances, seems utterly incapable of managing itself in any kind of moral and competent way without foreign intervention and humanitarian aid. You look at what’s going on in places like South Africa and Zimbabwe and it’s just disgraceful that the United Nations does nothing about it.

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September 7, 2019

Pardon the pause in blogging, but the few weeks have been especially long and stressful at work and I just haven’t felt like hitting the home computer to blog after long days at the computer in the office next door. Whether it’s because of work and days beginning with crisis calls at 6 or 7 AM (never a good way to start anyone’s day!), or the fact that we’ve had some really expensive car issues to the tune of nearly $4K when we’re supposed to be saving for retirement, I’ve just been struggling with thinking too much about too many things and getting caught up in worrying too much about what ought to be happening at this point in my life instead of dealing rationally with what is happening.

It’s been hard not to, I suppose, with all the rumors of big organizational changes coming at work and whether I’ll even have a job by the end of the year, but at some point you have to take stock in what you have and what is precious to you and figure out what to do with the staggering amount of bullshit you’ve allowed yourself to be consumed with inwardly. Two weeks ago I had to be talked out of resigning my position at work by my boss’s boss after an incident where I was publicly slammed by one of our VPs for something I wasn’t even involved in (a case of mistaken identity) without any kind of apology afterwards. And then there was the whole Goodboys thing I blogged about last month: the same day I offered up my resignation at work I decided that I was done with Goodboys as well. I had my resignation letter to the Nation all ready to go and was ready to hit the “Send” button when something told me this kind of momentous decision ought to be slept on before acting on it.

So the next day comes and I’ve got other bigwigs apologizing to me for the dickhead VP and them saying how good a job I’m doing and all that bullshit, so I decided to put my resignation and my Goodboys resignation on hold as well. And then the after-thought. What was I trying to do? What kind of statement was I trying to make? And so there was this whole inner crisis thing going on – something, I guess, that has been going on to one degree or another since my Mom’s passing more than three years ago. I’d been adrift in a way since then, that sense only exacerbated in the past year with being put on blood pressure medication, then having the cough and the damned lung nodules, then the severe anemia and the iron infusions and the office visits at the cancer hospital which only further remind you of your own mortality and how fragile life is and how old you’re getting.

I’ve been working my way through the works of John D. MacDonald, known for his books about ordinary people living lives of quiet desperation in an uncaring, hostile world of real state hucksters, corruption, environmental destruction, and societal/cultural changes, primarily in Florida but elsewhere as well. I’d been reading his Contrary Pleasure, about a family in upstate New York who owned and operated a textile mill whose existence was being threatened by a hostile takeover. Following the suicide of his brother, the head of the family decides not to sell, realizing that the mill is his life and that, win or lose, he would either see the company’s success or demise on his own terms instead of allowing others to make his future for him. For as long as he could remember, he too had been asking the same big questions; in the end it all came down to the same basic fundamentals:

You work because you work. You do your job because you do your job. Without sword or mission or grail. And the clan rides your shoulders. Full of a ridiculous, trusting confidence in you. Knowing that their world cannot change.

And in reading that passage, a light suddenly went on and the clouds that were in my head gradually gave way to an acceptance about who I am and where I am.

The fact is, I am growing older – older than I ever imagined myself ever being. My youngest brother Mark is gone, long gone, by suicide. My mother is gone, and so too her sister and my favorite aunt, Auntie Marge. The remains of what I once knew as “family” is scattered across the country. Sure, there are the occasional calls with my brother Dave and regular calls and semi-regular visits with my Dad, but otherwise the once-strong and intimate family connections are now held together only through the occasional call and text. I still have close, long-time friends of forty years like Paul and Ben, and, for more than three decades, Killer and Dog. All of whom are more like brothers to me than anything else. And there are my Goodboys friends like Goose, Cubby, and Skeeta who help maintain my Goodboys (and Massachusetts) connections. Most importantly, I’m loved by a wonderful wife and a sister-in-law who bring both color and meaning to my life.

But, sitting in the sanctuary of my back patio under happy pineapple lights next to the Tiki bar and listening to palm tree branches rustling in the breeze under a half-moon, I realize this is what it is and the way it is. And I’m the person I am with all the joys, sadness, and regrets of a life that has brought me to where I sit for better or for worse. And I realize I’m damned blessed to have the things and friends and family around me that I do. I work because I work. I do my job because I do my job. I’m a Goodboy because I helped create this damned thing called Goodboys and a Goodboy I will always be, until my end or its end, whichever comes first. And I do so without sword or mission or grail. And the clan (in their various forms) rides my shoulders. Full of a ridiculous, trusting confidence in me.

I know now that you can’t live your life in fear of what might come and whether or how you’ll handle it when it does come. That’s not living, that’s being imprisoned inside yourself and condemned to a life of waiting and apprehension. Wake up in the morning and wonder if this will be your last day on earth. Wonder where that sharp pain in your side or back or chest came from, and if that’s the first sign of something truly bad. I know now that I can’t live like that. That doesn’t mean that I can’t have strong opinions about things or choose to avoid dick-heads who exist in my circle of work and play, but I also have to realize that you can’t wipe clean relationships and friendships simply because there may be a dick-head lurking amongst you.

Most importantly, I think I’ve come to a realization that whatever happens is going to happen and if I go it alone it will only be because it is my choosing to do so. Life is far better lived amongst family and friends.

So I’m back blogging again and hopefully will be back to posting things of far lesser consequence, like golf, politics, and which is the better Bee Gees song, “Nights on Broadway”, or “I’ve Gotta Get A Message To You”.

..and thanks, Beach Boys, for the title of this post. That’s a damned fine song as well.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 23:22 | Comments (2)
August 25, 2019

This video is what the 2020 election cycle will be all about. It will be the forces of “America First” in all of its glorious colors, shapes, and sizes. The cause of individual freedom, capitalism, and national sovereignty against the combined forces of neocons who seek endless wars, the “Deep State” globalists, Antifa and the forces of progressivism, socialism and fascism and all their defenders in the mainstream media. You may not personally like The Messenger, his ego, his personal past, nor the way he is always – ALWAYS – on offense, but you cannot deny the thirst for individual freedom that resides in the heart of every human being – in America and across the globe. And that’s what 2020 is going to be all about. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

The next presidential election is going to be about big things. The Democrats and the liberal left, and their political operatives in the mainstream media can’t see this because they’re so focused on the day-to-day minutiae of Russia collusion, obstruction of justice and how Trump and his followers are racist. Mainstream America sees this and gets this. They may not wear red “Make America Great Again” hats on their heads because of the so-called “tolerance” of the progressive left, but you can be sure they wear them on their hearts.

Go ahead and believe all you want just how popular “Slo'” Joe Biden is and how unpopular Donald Trump is. Listen to what The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Boston Globe writes, and what you see and hear on CNN, MSNBC, and NPR. Continue to believe all the agenda-driven push-polling telling you Trump’s numbers are in the toilet if you wish, but recall these were the very same pollsters who gave Trump zero chance to beat Hillary Clinton in 2016. Remember? How’d that work out for y’all?

And finally, remember that there is a lot of cold anger out there. Powerline blog’s Paul Mirengoff, writing about the recent “Fredo affair” involving CNN’s Chris Cuomo (which, I’ll admit, I haven’t been interested enough to follow since I pay little or no attention anymore to what those “fake news” clowns have to say), isn’t wrong when he asks how the left and their mouthpieces in the mainstream media could possibly think there would be no push-back from conservatives and Trump supporters after being insulted, condemned, and, yes, threatened on virtually a daily basis in the most vile and vicious terms for the past four years. Did they really think all we would do is cower in some corner like cornered rats? And that’s not Trump’s fault – the only crime we’ve committed is supporting a President who wants only the best for this country and its citizens, regardless of race, creed, or color. There is a lot of anger out and a desire for revenge out there, but our revenge is not in beating up people wearing certain kinds of hats, shutting down their social media and YouTube accounts, or not serving them in restaurants. Our revenge will come at the ballot box.

And we will, I can guarantee, continue to “sing the songs of angry men” and yes, crawl over broken glass if we have to, in order to re-elect our President in 2020. Ignore all the rallies with 10,000+ enthusiastic and passionate folks if you dare and continue to prop up those who hate this country and its President and all the good America has done and stands for in the world, but know this: the winds of history are on our side and we will man the barricades in our own ways until the job is complete on Election Night 2020.

Filed in: Politics & World Events by The Great White Shank at 01:33 | Comments (0)
August 22, 2019

Ahhh, August. Blazing hot days and very warm nights. The pool is 90 degrees although the sun angle is noticeably different from even a month ago, and shade covers the pool in the afternoons almost as much as the sun covers it in the morning. My nights are spent with my Kindle, reading John D. MacDonald novels and enjoying the occasional bubble bath. On these windless, sultry nights the back patio is just warm and stuffy instead of inviting: there has been little or no monsoon to speak of this year. Work has been a bear – long days without let-up, the pressure relentless. So Hemingway daiquiris and Pusser’s Painkillers before a glass or two of wine has helped alleviate the stress. I think my anemia has returned, but I won’t know until perhaps November with the next round of blood tests. Golf-wise, it’s the annual post-Goodboys lull, and the game is far away from my mind. The clubs lie on the garage floor, still in their travel bag that has sat there since the night I got home from Massachusetts nearly a month ago. Perhaps this weekend I’ll open the bag up and give the clubs a good cleaning in anticipation of resuming my Arizona golf life – most likely with a round at TPC Scottsdale in October sometime. We’ll see. At the present there’s just no sense of desire to even pick them up.

Reading the words I’ve typed above, yeah, I guess you can say I’m feeling a bit burned out at this time. But still the world goes round…

Kurt Schlichter is absolutely right: banging is for closers. If you can’t afford it, then don’t do it. If unfettered abortion and access to free birth control is truly what the Democrats and liberals want, why don’t their deep-pocketed elites along the East and West coasts to fund it? It’s not the federal government’s role to be in the abortion business, and defunding Planned Parenthood is a damned good start.

…geez, nice piece of land you got there, Denmark. Kinda poorly defended, isn’t? Sure would be sad to see something happen to it simply because you’re not willing the pay the vig, wouldn’t it?

A great idea. Do it and try and find a Supreme Court that would uphold it as constitutional.

I love Jack Posobiec but on Star Trek captains he’s dead wrong. I thought Star Trek:TNG rocked. Sure, it got a little loopy in its last couple of years with Worf’s dopey, whiny son Alexander and Dr. Crusher’s son Wesley breaking every friggin’ Federation rule there was week in, week out without little more than a shrug of the shoulders from Captain Picard (who I always thought was Wesley’s real father), but hey, all series do. I’m still pissed that Riker didn’t marry Counselor Troi and have that beautiful cleavage all to himself for the rest of his life and force Picard to become admiral so he could have the Enterprise all to himself.

See, this is exactly the reason why the mainstream media deserves all the “fake news” accusations that come it’s way. Anyone who watched Trump’s press gaggle with the media knows damned well he was using self-deprecating humor while making the point that he was the one left to confront China economically because no other President in the past 40 years had the testicular fortitude to do so. These people truly do suck and are as disingenuous as it gets.

Don’t underestimate Elizabeth Warren in a general election against Donald Trump? Such drivel could only be written by someone whose resume includes being “an adviser to Gov. Mitt Romney with a focus on grassroots coalitions and conservative outreach”. Say, how’d that 2012 election work out for ya? Don’t even get me started on Mittens Romney: once a loser, always a loser.

Wonder why President Obama never came up with an idea like this? Because to him, America’s finest were just pawns to be moved around on a chess table to support his socialist, globalist views. Obama never gave a shit about the military; Trump does. And if we’re going to spend money that doesn’t exist like it’s going out of style, might as well put it to a good cause.

Is there a doctor in the house? Someone help “Slo’ Joe” Biden’s brain, it’s leaking, and badly.Honest to God, this is the guy Democrats want to have run against President Trump?

It’s sad to watch the Red Sox play the kind of listless, sloppy brand of baseball they showed while being swept by the Phillies, but like I said, I’m willing to give them a mulligan on 2019 after their fantastic 2018 year. But I will tell you this: they better come out blazing in 2020 or manager Alex Cora is going to find himself on the hot seat pretty quickly. While it’s true GM Dave Dombrowski didn’t exactly give Cora a whole lot to work with this year (most especially with the bullpen) but there’s really no excuse for the sloppy base-running and listless play that has hallmarked the team virtually from Opening Day. And that, my friends, is the manager’s fault.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 02:07 | Comments (0)
August 20, 2019

Some thoughts and items in the middle of what promises to be the hottest week of the year here in the Valley of the Sun:

I’ve always respected Former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich for his wealth of knowledge and experience, but in this case he’s speaking the language of the neocons. If we were talking about Chinatown and not China, well, yeah, but Hong Kong is England’s business, not ours. Unfortunately, Newt is like all the neocons that have infested our government and State Departments for the last half-century and gotten us into conflicts we had no business going into in Southeast Asia and the Middle East. While, sure, we can “support” the people of Hong Kong with our encouragement and vocal support, I’m not willing to go any further than that to defend them.

…and the same holds true with regards to Taiwan.

The Yorktown and the Battle of Midway. A great story reminding us that there was a time when men were men.

Why not Trump Greenland?

Barron’s reports that one Danish bank is offering negative interest rate mortgages for home purchases in Greenland. In other words, a bank will pay you to borrow money. I agree with Barron’s: Trump could borrow from a Danish bank to finance the purchase, and plunk down a Trump tower and casino, both easily reached at Greenland’s international airport! (By the way, Barron’s notes that we’re up to $16 trillion in negative interest rate debt in the world right now. This is a world I do not understand.) Could be a fun meeting Trump has in Copenhagen next month.

I’m guessing Hayward is just yanking chains with his post, but with Donald Trump, you just never know, do you?

…Personally, I would try to trade New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, and Connecticut to Canada in return for Manitoba and Saskatchewan. 🙂

Analysis: TRUE, to a point. In fact, one could make a genuine argument that rum has actually had a bigger impact on the history of America (for better and for worse) than slavery has.

Abbey Road turns 50 this week. Mark Steyn has a cool post about what most folks regard as the album’s stand-out track, George Harrison’s Something. I’m sure there will be other tributes during the week since the album truly is a classic. (It’s #5 on my personal list of top ten greatest albums of all time, BTW, behind the Beatles’ Revolver, the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, the Beatles’ Rubber Soul, and Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk.

I’m shocked…SHOCKED, I tell ya.

The Red Sox sure caught a break with this news. Everyone knows the guy hasn’t really been himself this year. He’s had some great outings against some inferior teams, but all in all it will go down as a disappointing year for both Sale and the Red Sox. I’m not going to be as hard on them and GM Dave Dombrowski as others have. They gave us a great World Series championship season last year, and I’m not one to get greedy. Let the guy rest and come back roaring like a lion next year.

Cancelled my subscription to Golf Digest today. I’ve been willing to put up with its obvious attempts to reach out to millennials this past year, but this month’s issue glorifying LGBTQ participation in golf (featuring, no less, some transgender dude – or is it dudette? – decked out in psychedelic stiletto heels) was one straw too many. It’s bad enough I have to have LGBTQ activism shoved down my throat on virtually every website and social media venue I visit, but to have it in my golf magazine, well, enough is enough. Look, I have no problem with gays and lesbians and folks who want to swing both ways. Equally, I have no problem with the idea of growing golf as a sport and making it more inclusive and easier for all kinds of people to participate in.

…but I’m sorry, the Golf Digest writer involved was clearly more interested in pushing an agenda as much (if not more) than growing the game of golf. Considering that no one was pictured hitting a golf ball, it was all about glorifying the LGBTQ lifestyle and transgender activism. To show a guy dressed like some two-bit floozy in stilettos – I’m sorry, you’re celebrating someone who has deep-rooted sexual and mental issues. This kind of activism shouldn’t be glorified by anyone, let alone a golf magazine; these folks are living in total denial and are headed for some very sad and tragic lives.

Now this is the kind of decisive action I would be looking for in a President! Bring. It. On!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 02:33 | Comments (0)
August 19, 2019

Apologies for the nearly one-month delay (the Goodboys Nation website got moved around at DreamHost and it raised heck with my FTP software trying to figure out how to upload the new picture there) but you’ll notice a new picture on the upper right corner of the page. Hail the new Goodboys Exec-Comm for 2019 – “The Funny Guy” Andrusaitis and “Skipper” Bornemann, who staged a stirring come-from-behind victory on Goodboys Invitational Sunday to win by one itty-bitty stroke over the team of “Deuce” Doucette and “Doggy Duval” McLaughlin. The final standings were as follows:

“TFG” / “Skipper”: +6
“Deuce” / “Doggy Duval”: +5
“Possum” Shepter / “Horse” Race: +3
“The Great White Shank” Richard / “Cubby” Myerow: +3
“Skeeta” Clark / “Goose” Dwyer: +15
“Killer” Kowalski / “T Money” Proctor: +15

It was hard to fathom the reigning Exec-Comm team of Skeeta / Goose folding playing as well as they did – in fact, better than anyone in their right mind could have reasonably expected – on Sunday having the kind of virtually insurmountable shaky lead of (if I recall correctly) somewhere around 10-11 strokes after Saturday’s round, but that’s what can happen under the nerve-wracking, bone-crushing tension of a Goodboys Invitational Sunday. Fortunately, once again there was a peaceful transition of power…

…upon which the victors were not ashamed to share their obvious love and respect for both each other and the multitudes that celebrated their momentous victory.

For “TFG” it was his sixth Goodboys Invitational victory (tying “Doggy Duval” for the most victories all-time), and Skipper could crow about achieving his second Goodboys championship. The winners get to have their names etched on the Goodboys trophy and take home those snazzy jackets worn by so many legendary Goodboys victors of the past. What they won’t have to worry about is solely responsible for the planning of the 30th anniversary event scheduled for the third weekend of July next year, as I’m virtually certain some form of a blue-ribbon subcommittee will be charged with the planning and coordination of this much-anticipated and momentous event.

Congratulations to the new Exec-Comm – may your reign be one of peace and prosperity!

Filed in: Goodboys by The Great White Shank at 20:33 | Comments (4)
August 17, 2019

The real story about Woodstock both Hollywood and what the aging hippies in our culture have forgotten all about.

Neil Young, who appeared with the newly formed Crosby, Stills & Nash, once said “Woodstock was a bullsh-t gig. A piece of sh-t. We played f-ckin’ awful.” The Grateful Dead received electrical shocks during their rainy set; guitarist Bob Weir has spoken of trying to live it down, while drummer Mickey Hart claimed it was “the worst we ever played.” Creedence Clearwater Revival followed the Dead after midnight. John Fogerty looked out from the stage to see something “like a painting of a Dante scene, just bodies from hell, all intertwined and asleep, covered with mud.” Jefferson Airplane’s Grace Slick succinctly described Woodstock as “a bunch of stupid slobs in the mud.”

Townshend’s assessment was, if anything, more devastating: “All these hippies wandering about thinking the world was going to be different from that day on. As a cynical English –ssh-le, I walked through it all and felt like spitting on the lot of them, trying to make them realize that nothing had changed and nothing was going to change. Not only that, what they thought was an alternative society was basically a field full of six-foot-deep mud laced with LSD. If that was the world they wanted to live in, then f— the lot of them.”

…Joni Mitchell may have dreamed she saw bomber death planes turning into butterflies above our nation, but she wasn’t at Woodstock. She was holed up in a New York City hotel room, waiting to appear on “The Dick Cavett Show.”

As usual when it comes to the “Flower Power” Sixties and the Seventies, it’s all bullshit. George Harrison was absolutely right.

So how’s that impending recession mantra working out for ya, Democrats and media? The actual economy begs to differ.

Annnnnnd the hits just keep on coming for the “Slo’ Joe” Biden campaign. Oh yeah, this is a strategy sure to boost the confidence of whatever supporters he truly has. The guy is a trainwreck, a doddering old political hack who was never presidential material. Oh, he can yuck and shuck his way through a harmless and ineffectual second-tier gig like VP, but one listen to him try and articulate anything substantive and it’s clear he’s as dumb as a bag of rocks. And the mainstream media, being nothing more than Democratic operatives, are starting to sing like canaries. Mark my words: “Slo’ Joe” is toast.

…and speaking of Democrats running for President, Elizabeth “Fauxcahauntus” Warren can have her “hundreds” in Franconia, NH, I’ll take the more than 10,000 that showed up for Donald Trump just a couple of hours south in Manchester.

It’s early, I know, but I don’t think I’m going out on a limb here when I say there is a YUUUUGE undercurrent of Trump support and supporters out there that the mainstream media and the pollsters will never be able to measure. After all, we Trump supporters have been demonized by the mainstream media (and, in some cases, supposed “friends”) as racists, xenophobes, and ignorant Nazis for so long we’re just sick of it and can’t wait for our chance to crawl over broken glass if need be to show y’all what a bunch of ignorant and stupid elites you are. A word to all of you libs: you didn’t learn your lesson in 2016, and you’re in for a rude awakening come 2020.

…and it’s tweets like this that make me love my President all the more. He calls things as he sees it:

Rep. Tlaib wrote a letter to Israeli officials desperately wanting to visit her grandmother. Permission was quickly granted, whereupon Tlaib obnoxiously turned the approval down, a complete setup. The only real winner here is Tlaib’s grandmother. She doesn’t have to see her now!

Totally unfiltered, totally what a lot of other people are thinking but are afraid to say it. Because, you know, we’re all racists, right? What the mainstream media won’t tell you is the hatred of rabid anti-Semites like Tlaid, Ilhan Omar, and AOC is being propped up by the most reprehensible of people.

Heard the first commercial today on southern RI / southeast CT classical music WCRI about “the coming holidays”. Last I checked the calendar said August 16. August 16. Heck, there’s already plenty of Halloween out there, and our local Fry’s is chock full of it. Not to mention the fact that Sam Adams Octoberfest is already being sold around here when the temps are over 110. It’s just madness.

…but it’s around this time of year that my musical tastes start turning towards the music of Gordon Lightfoot, one of my all-time faves. “Seven Island Suite” is just one of his great songs I never get tired of. It was also one of my brother Mark’s favorite Gord tunes, which makes it all that much more special.

Love the fact that the mainstream media is ridiculing President Trump’s offer to buy Greenland as some example of him losing his mind, neglecting (of course) that none other than Harry Truman offered to do the same thing. Everything you hear from the mainstream media these days is nothing but fake news, their hatred of Trump is so all-consuming.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 03:15 | Comments (0)
August 15, 2019

Tough to blog when you’re back to working 12-hour days (including weekends) when your software company has a difficult time delivering software that works and your team has to come to rescue time and time and time again. Better that, I guess, than the unemployment line.

Why am I blogging at such an odd hour of the day, you might ask? Two words: 6:30 check-in for my endoscopy and colonoscopy. Oh wait, that’s six words. But does “6:30 AM” count as one or two words? Or no words at all?

Analysis: TRUE: America is a divided country in part because half of Americans live in a fantasy land, predicated on fear and gossip, and entirely unrelated to reality. (Hat tip: Instapundit)

The mainstream media deserves as much blame for this as the Democrats do. If one needed any reminder of that just one look at all the hype yesterday about the danger of the U.S. going into a recession. Why, one would almost think the usual suspects are actually hoping for a recession – anything to harm Donald Trump’s chances at re-election. And don’t get me started about so-called “economic experts” – these are the same dolts who predicted a stock market crash with Donald Trump’s election (how’s that working out for you, libs?) and that Steel and Aluminum tariffs meant massive price increases.

…tell me one thing the so-called “experts” – be they economic, political, legal, etc. have gotten right since the 2016 campaign. The answer is zero: these are all self-appointed hacks who blather on thinking that what they say is important and meaningful.

…Me? I think the economists – like the media itself – really can’t get its arms around what President Trump is trying to do here. We are, for all intents and purposes, in uncharted territory with the globalists (who for too long have allowed China and other companies to rip us off in bad trade deals and supported policies that supported importing large numbers of low-wage, unskilled labor) vs. a Trump administration which is saying enough is enough. I think Sundance at The Last Refuge in this Twitter post and this blog post has it exactly right. And if he can’t see it, why can’t others? Because the evil orange man and his racist and xenophobic followers.

Analysis: TRUE – Note to 2020 Dems: It’s Not Racist to Ask Immigrants to be Self-Sufficient. And don’t give me that bullshit about the immigrants who came through Ellis Island back in the late 19th and early 20th century: when these folks came over there wasn’t any “dole” or welfare as we know it. These were people who already had communities (I mean the people kind, not towns and cities) in one form or another waiting for them and willing to help them out as best they could. This has nothing to do with compassion. The very idea of coming into this country – illegally or legally – and immediately become wards of the state is insane. But that’s what you’re typical Democratic candidate is these days.

Once a dick-head, always a dick-head.

Not sure why this song came into my head the other day, but I remember buying the 45 RPM when it came out. It’s very cool. And to think, this band actually morphed into 10cc

I’ve been predicting all along that the knives would be coming out for Slo’ Joe Biden. Were I a progressive or even a liberal I would have a hard time believing this is the guy who’s supposed to have the best chance at beating Trump? Is this the best the so-called “Resistance” has to offer? A lifetime political hack with zero record on anything substantive, whose ability to articulate thoughts boils down to stupid statements, gaffes, completely made-up fiction, and the ultra-hip “C’mon, man”? Sure, you’ll get the usual Trump-haters to come out for Joe – heck, they’d vote for Hitler if it meant defeating Trump – but I can’t see too many millennials and progressive activists willing to crawl over broken glass to vote for a doddering old fool. No wonder some folks are worried.

Me? I knew Jeffrey Epstein was a dead man long before he “committed suicide” on Saturday. Funny how many folks with association with Bill and Hillary Clinton seem to find ways of departing this mortal coil rather abruptly.

Analysis: TRUE: Meanwhile, This Is What LGBTQ Organizations Are Doing to Society.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 03:59 | Comments (0)
August 9, 2019

Random thoughts on a dusty, monsoony-night:

August has always held a special place in my heart. As a kid growing up in Massachusetts, it meant stretches of humid days, cloudy and muggy, where the furniture and dining room chairs got sticky, heat lightning in the distance, the purple lustrife ablaze in the swamps and lowlands, the night sounds of heat bugs and mosquitoes buzzing in your ear, the back to school sales in the department stores. If you were down the Cape, or on the Vineyard, August meant lots of fog and murkiness, with hours before the sun found a way to burn it all off. August, perhaps even more than September (a transitional month by its very nature), always seemed a transitional month to me. After all, it was August where you could really begin to notice the days were getting shorter; it always seemed to me that while the second half of the month was still summer, in the mornings you’d start seeing the heavy condensation on the car windows; and then, with the publishing of the school bus routes in the old Merrimack Valley Advertiser, you knew damned well the jig was up. September would, of course, brings its own transitions – back to school, the cooler nights, that first Canadian cool front that would wipe the air clean of all humidity and those cloudy, murky days into a bright clear blue – but it was August where it all started.

Here in the Valley of the Sun, there isn’t really much of a difference weather-wise from July (or, for that matter, September). It’s monsoon season, so every day is like a Cracker Jack box with a possible surprise in it. The weather folks will predict a busy day and nothing happens, then like last weekend, the know-it-alls predicted a hot, tranquil day and we ended up with very heavy winds and quite a bit of rain. There’s been a lot going on here at the Richard hacienda since my return from Goodboys week and shortly thereafter, and none of it good as far as finances are concerned. Between the pool filter, my sister-in-law’s bird getting sick and ultimately having to be put down, and the car (including two tows in the span of ten hours last Sunday), we’ve been whacked to the tune of nearly $5K, obliterating whatever chances there might have been to do anything much in the way of vacation time. It’s just an odd thing having all these things hit at once, but it’s a damned real thing as far as the checking and savings accounts are concerned.

One of these days I’ll get around to blogging about where I think my golf game is, but frankly, Goodboys weekend seems like it was a lifetime away with so much going on. The clubs are still in their travel bag and sitting on the garage floor. This is the third straight year I’ve left Goodboys weekend with a sour taste in my mouth and I’m really just about over it. Don’t get me wrong: most of the guys are really fun to be around, and I care deeply about them and cherish their friendships, but it’s the dick-heads and creepy old geezers (to me fellow Goodboys, you know who I’m talking about) that wreck it for me. And there was an edge this year involving a couple of them that made me happy to just get the hell out of there. (Heck, for all I know, the same guys are probably not thrilled with being around me, either.) One of them said to me on Saturday night in a nasty tone that I like to run my mouth off purely for the sake of getting a rise off of folks. That might be true: just for yucks, I yanked a bunch of the guys chains over the music of Steely Dan (something I admit to knowing very little about), but it was fun to see them going round and round about something I care and know nothing about. But that’s what happens when you’re around guys you know you have little in common with anymore. San Diego the third weekend of July is sounding better to me every day.

Work has been a bitch the past two weeks. My younger brother Dave is retiring in three weeks and I’m glad for him. Me? I think I’m destined to have to deal with corporate dick-heads for the rest of my natural life. I had one of the execute VPs of the company tell me the perception out there was that I was not a team player. I replied to her that if being a team player means continuing to act as if nothing is wrong when we’re bleeding clients, distributing software that doesn’t work, and replacing skilled and experienced North America employees with untrained India resources, well, what do I know? I’ve only worked in healthcare IT for almost forty years. It’s just a sucky situation right now that will end up playing itself out one way or the other. And just so it’s clear: my team, with its integrated North American and India resources, is the envy of the company. I love and respect my team, and I hope the feeling is mutual. I’m damned f**kin good at what I do, and damn all the new-fangled squirts in management who couldn’t manage their way out of a wet paper bag without instructions.

On the health front, I’ve had two iron infusions for the severe anemia I’ve been diagnosed with and we’re waiting to see the test results. The coming week features an endoscopy and colonoscopy where they hope to find the source of the anemia. The cute Indian doctor told me today that had my red cell count been one number lower when I first presented myself I would have been admitted for an immediate blood transfusion. The thinking is going ’round to that I might have a bleeding ulcer that’s going to need treatment. Here’s the funny thing: the persistent cough that I’ve had since February (it was really bad Goodboys weekend) has virtually disappeared. No one seems to know where it came from, and no one seems to know why it has subsided. I’m pretty happy about that.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 23:14 | Comments (0)
August 8, 2019

…part of what pisses me off most about this past Goodboys weekend and the total dick-head who called one of his fellow Goodboys a racist simply because he happened to support President Trump (as do I, enthusiastically) is the inane ignorance by which he, and those who think like him, parrot the bleating of rags like The New York Times, the Washington Post and Boston Globe, and Democratic Party mouthpieces like CNN, MSNBC, and NPR who never fail to bash President Trump and those who support him on a daily basis.

This, of course, didn’t start out of the blue, because when Donald Trump (largely because of Hillary’s Clinton’s inherent unlikability and the harpy, bitchy and altogether inept campaign she ran) was elected President, Barack Obama and Clinton had already planted more than a few seeds denigrating Republicans and conservatives simply because they just happened to disagree with their views of what America should look like. After all, it was President Obama who encouraged his followers to confront Republicans directly, saying things like “you don’t bring a knife to a gun fight”, and, at Thanksgiving dinner to not be afraid to get in the faces of their family members to push his Obamacare plan. And I can’t think of any Republican presidential candidate who referred to Trump supporters as “deplorables”. I can’t think of too many Republicans who, like Maxine Waters, encouraged her followers to get in the faces of presidential administration officials, or any Republicans who, like Joaquin Castro, would doxx the personal information of those who donated to Democratic candidates, or a Republican or conservative restauranteur who would chase folks like Sarah Huckabee Sanders and Ted Cruz out of their establishments simply because they have a different political view than they do.

So much for Democrats being the party of compassion. As I’ve said many times before, if there’s one group of people who are less compassionate and more vicious and mean, living out their sad, tawdry lives, its Democrat and liberal activists.

Personally, I could give a rat’s a$$ what these people do. If you want to act like a$$holes and live your lives in abject misery simply because your lousy candidate couldn’t figure out a way to beat the likes of Donald Trump – Donald Trump!! – why should that be the reason to call his followers a bunch of racists?

You see, last I checked:
* It’s not racist to want the borders of your country to be established and protected.
* It’s not racist to want a unimpeded flow of low-skilled and undocumented folks flooding the work force, taking valuable blue-collar jobs away from American citizens – most especially, though not exclusively, African-Americans and Hispanics.
* It’s not racist to demand that those who seek to enter this country do so by following our already-existing immigration laws.

If someone truly believes that that’s racist, you’re just an ignorant dick-head and not even worthy of a genuine, honest, and respectful exchange of ideas. You may disagree with those positions from your own political lens, but that doesn’t make those who hold those positions racist. I happen to call it “American”.

If someone thinks that makes me a racist, then all I can say is keep listening to the bullshit and fake news you get every day from those Democratic Party media operatives working in tandem with the liberal left for the so-called “Resistance”. All you are is part of the mob who only sees those who disagree with them as racist, sexist, xenophobic degenerates who aren’t nearly as decent, good, intelligent, and as open-minded as you all proclaim to be.

From my vantage point, these folks are nothing but a bunch of elitist, hateful, and ignorant loons who aren’t capable of an original thought in their heads. They can’t rationally, seriously, and honestly engage the political opposition in an honest exchange of ideas because their brain has been filled with the mush of fake news. They haven’t the intelligence to engage in a rational discussion about free markets, freedom, the Bill of Rights (take a good look at Articles 1, 2, and 9), and a President who truly believes in putting his country and its people FIRST. It’s much easier, after all, to mark those whom they disagree with tags you’re too stupid and ignorant to understand what they truly mean. Much easier as well to focus on nonsensical crap like Russia collusion. Question: how’d that work out for you? And when that didn’t work out, it became “obstruction of justice”. When that failed, all you clowns have left is to play the race card. Something that the Democratic Party and liberal left has always done best and as a last resort when they’ve got nothing else.

Truth is, these people are afraid to state what they’re really for, because anyone outside of liberal loon conclaves like Massachusetts, California, San Francisco, Portland, and places like them would look at you like you’ve got five heads if you actually had the guts to state honestly and plainly what you truly believe in. Medicare of all? Slavery reparations? The “Green New Deal”? Free education? Student loan forgiveness? Open borders and unfettered illegal immigration? Abortion without restrictions? Tax increases for everyone (after all, who’s gonna pay for all these giveaways?). No wonder if you ask any Democratic candidate a yes or no question about any of these issues all you’ll get a whole lot of hemming and hawing without any kind of answer. Why? Because they’d be laughed off the stage and run out of your average blue-collar town on the rails.

So excuse me, fellow Goodboys, for drawing a line in the sand when one ignorant dick-head and so-called “Goodboy” accuses another of being a racist simply because he happens to support the political agenda of Donald Trump. You see, I too enthusiastically (have I mentioned that already) support the President’s agenda. So I guess that means I would have been called a racist too had I been around for such a lovely and high-brow conversation. I’m sorry some don’t like his tweets or think he is being presidential in doing so, but suck it up, buttercups – at least he’s: 1) following through on what he promised to do during the 2016 campaign, and 2) putting the lives and future of (gasp!) AMERICAN CITIZENS first instead of the neocon / globalists who have occupied the White House for the past half-century (that’s 50 years for those of you who get all your news from CNN, MSNBC and NPR). You think he’s a racist? You think I’m a racist? Then give me friggin’ SPECIFICS – not leftist talking points. And just a hint: I don’t want to hear one friggin’ word about Charlottesville – it’s just one in a series of fake news lies designed to paint the President as something he is not.

Here’s my bottom line on all this – to tie these two posts together – just because I have to listen and read all the crap about my President and those who support him shoveled out there on a daily basis (after all, unlike those on the left, I’m not afraid to read to read the opinions of those whom I happen to disagree with – actually, it’s kind of hard in this day and age not to), that doesn’t mean I have to hear about this tripe on a weekend supposed to be enjoyed by “friends”. I thought we were all better than that, but apparently we are not (at least anymore). So the idea of having to waste my time avoiding dick-heads like that over an entire weekend is a waste of my precious time and hard-earned money. So unless said dick-head is man enough to admit that he was wrong and deeply regrets accusing a fellow Goodboy of something as serious as being a racist simply because he holds a different political view, I don’t want to be associated with him in any way, manner, shape, or form. A true Goodboy would never say such a thing, and any bunch of guys that would allow this kind of thing to go unresolved is not the same kind of guys that began this tradition 29 years ago. Either the dick-head apologizes or goes, or I go. Period.

Filed in: Goodboys by The Great White Shank at 21:05 | Comments (0)

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