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Iran Has Joined The Party

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. I continue to paint slowly, and check the big screen frequently, as we wait for Icepocalypse 2016. We’ve seen a little sleet, and a little snow so far. According to the Whiz-O-Meter at Channel 11 news, we’re about to be doomed to days, weeks, maybe years of ice and snow. The accumulations will surely down all of the power lines in the area, create traffic gridlock up and down the Eastern seaboard, and create a rise in the birthrate nine months from now. It’s important to get your news from a “trusted and reliable” source. That’s why I watch the Weather Channel.

Anyway, while channel surfing, I saw that it was the thirty-fifth anniversary of the release of the Iran Hostages. No, not the ones they released earlier this week, the one’s they released as Ronald Reagan was being inaugurated. For those of you not aware of the time in history, and how no matter what happens in the world, America somehow has its finger in it, let me elaborate.

To set the time, Jimmy Carter was President. The world had survived an artificial oil shortage a few years before, and President Carter was very public about wanting to move America to   energy independence. President Carter went on TV in a sweater, which he was ridiculed by some for, and pointed out that we could help ourselves by conserving more. Carter promoted the development of solar technology on a wide scale. He even had panels added to the roof of the White House. Carter implored us to manipulate our thermostats a couple of degrees in the Summer, and a couple of degrees in the Winter, to conserve electricity. He set new, very tough mileage standards for auto makers and reintroduced us to Daylight Savings Time. Most of the conservation proposals were unpopular with the American people. We had always been told to extravagantly burn through any resource we had. Now we had a President who was telling us to do with less. Everything in our existence was predicated on using more and more fossil fuels. Obviously, the oil companies had absolutely no interest in twenty percent of the electricity in the U.S. coming from solar, as President Carter proposed. The proposals failed publicly, but played perfectly into the plans of the oil producing countries and their owners.

It is a classic Republican manipulation to foment dissent by making a Democrat President look weak. To that end, the U.S. Embassy in Iran was attacked and sixty Americans were taken hostage. The date was November 4, 1979, and the “crisis” lasted until Ronald Reagan’s inauguration on January 20, 1981. What a co-inky-dink.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the Iranians had plenty to be mad at us about. The CIA overturning a democratically elected leader to put the Shah in power, resulted in thousands of deaths and a huge loss of freedom for the Iranian people. Every Iranian knew who was responsible for their discomfort, the white devil. That said, taking an Embassy was a bold move without assurances that the military wouldn’t turn the desert to glass. Who gave those assurances? I’m guessing the same folks that timed the release of the hostages to Reagan’s first day on the job. It was a message written on stone tablets for all future tree hugging Presidents. “Thou shalt not mess with the oil bidness”.  

So now, thirty five years later, we celebrate the release of the hostages by passing a bill that would pay the hostages reparations. The reparations bill would pay each hostage $4.4 million, or $10,000 a day for each day of captivity. I’m not saying being a hostage is easy work, but I think I could handle a month of it for $10,000 a day. I’d like to be held someplace with a warmer climate, if possible.

It’s a shame the Hostage Crisis happened. Thank the Lord, it looks like we’re on a path of sanity now in our relations with Iran. It was a dark time for a very good President, who will always be remembered well for what he tried to do, not what was “done unto him”.

 

jimmycarter

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Feel The Bern!

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. With rumors of ice and snow flying about like moths to a street light, I’m making sure that TackyToo is as prepared as we can be for inclimate weather. Fortunately, I’m making sure my duties keep me inside. I bet I’ve filled the vending machines about four times today, while managing to keep up with my painting. I plan on having the interior painting done by March 1st, or consistent 70 degree days, whichever comes first.

Unlike the Republican Debate potluck, I was prepared for the Democratic Debate. First of all, there’s less setting up to do. Even if we do get a few die hard Republicans, who watch just to hoot at Hillary, the turn out is not nearly as big as it is for the Republican shindig. Thank the Lord, I know that my spot in Whitopia is not reflective of the country’s demographics. If it was, all Republicans would be living in trailer parks with gun racks in their pickups.

There is an odd dichotomy between billionaires telling welfare folks how the poor are the problem, and having the poor agree with them. As long as the billionaires can put black or brown faces on the problem, the poor in TackyToo have no problem with The Donald calling the poor, “losers”. It is beyond my comprehension to try to understand how people who were born into poverty, into a system that promotes keeping them in poverty, can identify with a candidate who is richer than Croesus. The disconnect in thinking that the rich represent the values and needs of the poor, to me, is profound. At the very least, the folks here in TackyToo should be thinking, “what do I have in common with The Donald financially?” Besides the shared love of hating people of color, the rich and the poor have very little in common. It’s sad that that is enough for some. They’d rather stay poor than be middle class in a diverse neighborhood.

Well, now that I’ve talked the downside, let me talk the other side. How refreshing is it to see just three candidates walk out on a stage? The Democrat debates are an example of high spirited discussion between intelligent opponents vying for the same office. While O’Malley didn’t get as much time as Hillary or Bernie, he did get enough time to remind us old timers of a young Jack Kennedy. How O’Malley can use his youth and vitality to energize the voters is a question that I can’t answer. Bernie’s lead with the youthful voters is an anomaly to me. I get that the young people are listening to the message, and that is very important, but electability has to come into play. At some point the “undecided” or “independent” voters are going to figure in the equation, and I don’t think the youth vote will be strong enough to elect him. That is, if Bernie were the candidate.

I don’t see Bernie coming out of the convention with the nod, unless the Republicans are successful in finding something to smear Hillary with. Always a possibility. Even so, Bernie’s message is too far Left for the power brokers, and that’s got all of the 1% shaking, in both parties. The good news is that Bernie’s message is having to be heard and rebutted in these debates. It’s making Hillary run to the Left, and I think we’re all ready for that. I’m tired of the Democratic party being Republican Lite, even more tired than I am of the Republicans being Fascist Left. I miss the days when Republicans were fiscally conservative Democrats, and Democrats were the dreamers of the future. Dreamers as described in Obama’s State of the Union address, where we invest in a future of new technologies instead of clinging to the past.

I’m all about the future, one of the reasons that O’Malley is so appealing. They are all good candidates. I love Bernie, I just don’t think Woody Allen’s irascible uncle can get elected. I think O’Malley is great, and I would love to see him elected President after serving as Hillary’s Vice-President for eight years.

Hillary 2016, it’s the women’s turn to see if they can get it right. I’m counting on them!

 

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I Have A Dream

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. I have taken Martin Luther King day off, like I suspect any good American should. It’s definitely a holiday from mail delivery, and Mulva tells me that the bank is closed. She was happy to report that the Walmart was open for business, though. Mulva tells me she was nearly crushed by the throngs of shoppers observing the holiday.

As an act of contrariness, as I am given to from time to time, I searched Walmart’s directory online and found that the Walmart store in Atlanta, on Martin Luther King Drive, was open. How do the residents in the area of that store feel about the “business as usual” attitude of America’s largest retailer on the day set aside for honoring one of America’s greatest heroes? I guess we’ll have to wait for the live report from Channel 11, “who hold the powerful accountable”. My guess is pigs will be used for interstellar flight before we see that report.

Anyway, setting aside a day to reflect on the accomplishments of America’s Gandhi seems like the least we could do. For those of us who lived during the time of  “Abraham, Martin and John”, we can not look back without feeling blessed that Dr. King was the man he was. Without his adherence to a strong moral code of non-violence, the Civil Rights period of the 60’s and early 70’s could have been one of tremendous bloodshed. As it was, we had riots in some of the major cities in America, but they could have been much, much worse. Watts, Harlem, Chicago and Newark made the headlines, but thousands of American cities did not erupt. Thank Dr. King, and his followers who understood his message of non-violence.

Now that there has been a movie made about the march on Selma, and the confrontation at the Edmund Pettus bridge, a new generation can get a feel for the times. I don’t know if a movie can portray the vitriol of the average American redneck, or convey the bravery it took to confront the bigots and not strike back. It took bravery for the white people to stand with their black brothers, but not the type of bravery exhibited by the blacks. For the most part, the whites would be targets for one day, and then go back home. The blacks had to return to their neighborhoods, surrounded by their oppressors. The “uppity” blacks would be targets for the night riders at any time of their choosing. To stand up to that kind of tyranny, and not return blow for blow, is incomprehensible to me. And yet, Dr. King was able to use his eloquence to convey to his followers that they could only win, by ironically, being beaten. Talk about your “hard sells”.

There were other black leaders with large groups of followers during this period besides Dr. King. For the most part, the other factions were delivering the message of “eye for an eye” or even, “strike first”. Some of the groups pointed out that it might be more effective to burn white neighborhoods as opposed to the projects where the riots were usually confined. Fortunately for all, the “militant” voices were not heeded. Dr. King’s message of love and understanding, and his willingness to place himself on the front lines of the struggle, won him followers all over the world. Dr. King’s eloquence was profound, and invigorated black and white, young and old, to do the right thing.

Dr. King’s most famous speech was his “I Have A Dream” speech delivered in 1963. Most people consider this speech as important as the Gettysburg Address. It’s hard to judge an absolute winner here, but part of Dr. Kings’ speech has stayed with me ever since I heard it. “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

Isn’t that what we all want, to be judged by our character and not by other social stigmas?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2hNLDigNVB8

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Nearer My God To Thee

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Cold, cold cold. I think the high temperature for the next few days is freezing, with a chance of snow or freezing rain on Wednesday. Oh, joy! I know I complain about the heat in the Summer, but the heat doesn’t make my old bones ache like the cold does. It is bone chilling cold. In fact, it’s so cold that Granny Waller’s teeth are chattering, and they’re in a glass on her nightstand. It’s cold I tell you.

Anyway, I stayed inside at Number Two to watch this week’s telecast from Channel 99 in Blairsville. The Full Gospel Original Church of God was once again packed to the rafters. As the camera panned the crowd, I saw folks I’ve never seen before. In fact, I might have even been alarmed if I had seen some of them out walking on the street. This new group of folks that’s come in from the hinterlands is about a diverse a group of folks as you’d ever hope to see. I mean, I’m talking Barnum and Bailey kind of diverse. We’re appreciative of the body arts in the Lite family, and you’ll find most of our family sports an ink illustration or two. Where I draw the line is puncturing perfectly good flesh and sticking some sort of appliance through the hole. I’m not talking about women getting their ears pierced. I’m talking about males or females puncturing their lips, cheeks, and noses. I’m still internally debating whether or not the male of the species need to puncture their ears. I am sure that they don’t need to puncture their ears and then stick something that looks like a spool for thread through the hole to make the earlobe drag like a basset hound’s. That can’t be good for you, can it?

Well, I know these folks don’t worry about my approval one iota, and I’m happy they don’t. I do believe they’re in the right spot to have their lifestyles and choices judged, though. I can think of a few members of the congregation that will tell the newcomers what they think of their looks straight off. One blast of “country wisdom” from Granny Waller should separate the curious from the confirmed right way. Granny is 97 years old and she doesn’t have one bit of problem telling someone if she thinks their jeans are dirty, or if the piercing in their nostril makes them look like a heathen savage. You always know where you stand with Granny Waller.

Now, I don’t know if these people wear their affectations because they think the piercing improves their looks, or if they’re proud to show other people their ability to endure pain. Either way, the hipster crowd served as an interesting backdrop to this week’s sermon on pride.

In this week’s message, the Reverend Helen Handbasket unleashed a blast from the fiery pit to warn the prideful of their eventual reward if they didn’t change their ways. It was not enough that, “pride would go before a fall”, but the Reverend Helen Handbasket threw out a quote by T.S. Elliot that further summed up her feelings on the topic. “Most of the trouble in the world is caused by people wanting to be important”, was the quote. I chewed on that one for a while. I mean, we all want to be important to our families, our communities, maybe even our church. I guess the point was that we should want to be important through our contributions, not a sense of self importance. From that angle, the Reverend Helen Handbasket could have been issuing a challenge to the new members. If you want to be proud of yourself, do good works in the church, don’t just show up dressed to the nines and expect to get recognition for your Bruno Maglis. I can roll with that.

Speaking of good works in the church, I’m trying to keep up with Mulva’s New Years’ resolution for me, and work has begun on The Full Gospel Original Church of God website. If you visit, try not to judge too harshly. Like me, it’s a work in progress.

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The Pack Is Back, Nope

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Cold, cold cold, but no frozen precipitation, so I’m all good. I’m working indoors anyway, so I shouldn’t whine about the weather, but I do. It’s what I do. That freezing wind slapping me in the face as I cross over the driveway between Number Two at TackyToo to the Rec room is as good a wake up call as a cup of coffee. Almost. I may make this painting job last until Spring.  We’ll see how that stacks up against Mulva’s “Honey Do” list.

While on break from my painting I happen to catch a few moments of the playoff game from Phoenix. Well, if I’m being truthful, I actually knocked off a little early and plopped down in my recliner in the lounge to watch the game. Mulva was attending a special meeting over at The Full Gospel Original Church of God, and I thought it would be a good time to catch up a little bit on the professional game. I ran across to Number Two during half time and fixed the biggest Dagwood sandwich I could throw together for supper, and headed back to watch a darn good game. Watching the fastest of the fast, collide with the strongest of the strong, is what Pro football is all about, and these guys were playing like their lives depended on the outcome.

The game was very evenly matched, and the stats bear out the closeness of the score. How close? So close that with 5 seconds left in the game, Aaron Rogers threw a ball that went forty yards high and forty yards deep to his receiver crossing into the end zone with two defenders in tow. Jeff Janis made an unreal leaping catch and came down with the ball trapped on his chest to give Green Bay the chance for a tie, and overtime. The extra point secured the overtime and we were in store for more excitement. The game did not disappoint, from a failed overtime toss of the coin, to a failed attempt to cover Larry Fitzgerald, the Cardinals receiver. About a minute into overtime, the game was over. The Packers were sent back to Green Bay, to “wait until next year”. The Cardinals will move on.

I’ve been a “sideways” Packer fan for a long time. During the Lombardi era you couldn’t ignore the success of the team, no matter who you pulled for. Players like Bart Starr, Jim Taylor, Carroll Dale, Paul Hornung, Forrest Gregg, Jerry Kramer, Willie Davis, Henry Jordan, Willie Wood, Ray Nitschke, Dave Robinson, and Herb Adderley, were all stars, that as kids, we wanted to emulate in our playground games.

The fact that a small little suburb of Milwaukee could put together multiple championship teams that compete annually for the title is astounding to me. Green Bay is smaller than Savannah for gosh sakes. How could a team in such a tiny market area hold on and not only survive but thrive? Probably being one of the founding teams of professional football has some bearing, but tradition only gets you so far in this age of billion dollar stadiums and multi million dollar practice facilities. What’s the secret sauce for selling out every home game since 1960? And, I’m talking home games that at times look like scenes from Ice Station Zebra.

Well, it seems that the town of Green Bay has a rather unique situation, they own their team. The good citizens of the area are invested in their sports franchise, and make all of the determinations about the team’s future. According to Wikipedia: “The Packers are the only community-owned franchise in American major league professional sports. Rather than being the property of an individual, partnership, or corporate entity, they are held in 2014 by 360,584 stockholders. No one is allowed to hold more than 200,000 shares, approximately 4% of the 5,011,557 shares currently outstanding.”

How cool is that? No wealthy owner threatening to move the team elsewhere if you don’t build him a billion dollar stadium, or generally kiss his behind with tax breaks and changes of property codes. Sounds like a recipe for success that a lot of other communities could model. But wait, there’s more. We return to Wikipedia for “the rest of the story”: “Green Bay is the only team with this form of ownership structure in the NFL, which is in direct violation of current league rules stipulating a maximum of 32 owners per team, with one holding a minimum 30% stake. The Packers’ corporation was grandfathered when the NFL’s current ownership policy was established in the 1980s. As a publicly held nonprofit, the Packers are also the only American major-league sports franchise to release its financial balance sheet every year.”

To clarify, the 1% passed a rule that the fans of a team couldn’t own their team. Just buy outrageously priced tickets and merchandise. As the owners of three franchises converge on Los Angeles to punish their cities for not building them the new stadium they wanted, we’ll get to watch again what happens when the rich kid decides to take his bat and ball and go home. I think I might be a full time Packer fan, if I followed Pro football.

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Wild

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. A few snow flurries to report, but nothing stuck to the ground. The roads are clear and we haven’t had to go to generator power, so all and all, a good day. The roads provided no problem for Mulva to get over to the Walmart to buy me a replacement bucket of paint to replace the one the Widow Ferguson kicked over at the Republican Debate potluck. If she doesn’t sue for the bruise she got on her knee, I won’t bill her for the paint. I think they call that detente.

Anyway, Mulva dug deep into the $2.99 movie bin and pulled out a selection that was a very odd choice. You might even say, a “wild” choice. It was the movie, “Wild” starring Reese Witherspoon. Now, I thought I was in for an evening of a “chick flick”, although one with possible empowerment overtones. I was ok with that, I guess. You kind of have to give in to a certain degree on date night movies. After all , there are two of you going on the date. I was just kind of amused at Mulva picking out a movie starring Reese Witherspoon.

For those of you who don’t know the story, Reese and her hubbie were arrested for drunk driving a few years ago in Atlanta. Mulva has what you might call a “Zero tolerance” for drinking and driving. I’ll let you figure out why. Mulva is especially critical of people who drink and drive that can afford a chauffeur, or a cab. She just sees there is no reason to endanger the public, particularly if you have the means and the ability not to. I can’t say I disagree with her. What made this story national news was that Reese got out of the car to protest the stop with the policeman. It is important to remember that police cars have dash cams, and if you’re going to act a fool, it’s going to be caught on the dash cam for the whole world to see. Mulva got overly pent up with Ms. Witherspoon asking the police man if he “knew who she was” about a hundred times. Not Reese’s finest cinematic moment.

So, imagine my surprise when Mulva brings home a movie starring Reese Witherspoon. Well, we all know Mulva is about giving second chances. She lives with her body of work. Ironically, the movie “Wild” is about a woman who lost her moral compass when her mother died. The mother, played by Laura Dern, is a single mom who does everything she can to make her children feel special. When she passes, Reese’s character, Cheryl, goes into a self destruction binge that is epic. Finally, as a means of regaining her self, and her sanity, Cheryl decides she is going to walk the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2,650 mile jaunt up the West coast. People at the bottom don’t always make good decisions, and this is a good example.

The movie is based on the book “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed. It is an account of Cheryl’s loss, her plunge into despair, and her subsequent redemption. By placing herself in the harshest of environments with minimal resources at her disposal, Cheryl was forced to use her wits to survive in the wild. During the course of the journey she learned about hiking and backpacking. She had to learn as she went, she had had no prior experience. In one of those classic instances of “not knowing enough to be scared”, Cheryl plunged ahead into extreme terrain that not even the most ardent hikers attempt to tackle. Desserts and snow capped mountains, bears, snakes and hunters with guns. The movie reflects Strayed’s many “what was I thinking?” moments. After being on the trail for 94 days, Strayed reached the Bridge of the Gods, and she ended her journey. The movie ends with Strayed telling the audience that in four years she will marry and have two children.

The movie was critically acclaimed, and Laura Dern and Reese Witherspoon received Academy Award nominations. Neither won. No matter, Reese Witherspoon may have won her way back into Mulva’s heart again. She never left mine.

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You Never Bring Me Flowers, Anymore

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Well, between having people kick over paint cans that weren’t sitting on drop clothes, and tripping over drop clothes and claiming injury, the Republican Debate potluck was a wild and wooly affair. I’d say that the actual debate was anti-climatic to the chaos that was going on in the Rec room last night. At one point, I felt like that guy in the insurance commercial that plays the part of mayhem. You know, the guy that puts his still hot grill from the tailgate party back in his car with the five gallon gas can. It’s like, what will happen next?

Well, the night started off bad. I forgot about the debates. When Mulva came over to ask me if I needed any help in setting up, I think a blank stare was my answer. Well, we started hustling. I was moving all of my painting paraphernalia to the side, while Mulva was bringing out folding tables and chairs. We got stuff sort of situated when the first folks started arriving with their covered dishes. In spite of the cold, I was sweating like American Pharoah after the Kentucky Derby. I had just sat down to cool off with my Mountain Dew when someone pointed out that it was time to start the J.V. debate, and the TV was on the wrong channel. Well, Christ on a cracker, who even knew that Fox had a “Business Network”? I guess it makes sense, I just had no idea where it was on the satellite dish. After a call to the folks at DirecTV, we got situated, and prepared for the “Chastising in Charleston”. 

The JV is down to three now, four, if you count the missing Rand Paul. I’m with Rand, I wouldn’t want to climb up on a stage with “Foaming at the mouth” Fiorina, “Google me” Santorum, or “Huckleberry” Huckabee. If The Donald didn’t apply the word so liberally to everyone who arouses his ire, you could use the JV team as the textbook definition of “losers”. This is as sad and sorry a bunch of candidates since Barney Fife ran for sheriff . It appears  that I’m not the only one who has noticed, as their polling numbers are lower than a snake’s belly.

Anyway, things had calmed down, so’s to speak, when the main event turned on. It has been said that competition brings out the best in people. Clearly the quote wasn’t talking about these competitors. Ladies and gentlemen, your candidates:

The Donald – I’m not a fascist, but I play one on TV. It’s getting harder and harder to believe that the persona he has adopted to gain favorability with the great unwashed is all theater. His most “real” moment was when he took Cruz to task for maligning “New York” values. The Donald showed some real emotion and empathy in his response.

Ted Cruz – If there were a higher power, he would zap Cruz with a lightning bolt. I’m not counting on that happening. I am counting on the alienation of millions of folks, like New York, to try to capture the votes of hundreds of Evangelicals, will not play at the polls. Cruz did give a good response to The Donald’s birther allegations. Well played.

Ben Carson – zzzzzzzzzz, what? zzzzzzzzzzz. It’s kind of funny watching Dr. Carson become the Clarence Thomas of the varsity. Like Thomas agreeing with Scalia, Carson will just have The Donald speak for him.

Marco Rubio – attacked Chris Christie for assorted misdeeds. I’m wondering if Rubio was trying to separate Christie from the herd. It didn’t play well.

Jeb Bush – dead man walking. When you can be dismissed by The Donald as a nice man, and that “we don’t need another nice man in the President’s office”, you’re toast. The Jebber’s only play is if the true powers that run the country give him the nomination over the others. It could happen.

Chris Christie – still the best politician on the stage. It doesn’t look like the year of the politician, though. Maybe the exposure will help him in 2020.

John Kasich – Bowie’s “Golden Years” was playing in my head while he talked. This crowd has no interest in history, or your political record. It’s all about arousing the base, and the base are just that, base. It’s a shame to see a good man not have a chance.

Well, that’s it, we survived another one. Hopefully the Widow Ferguson will not be any the worse for her fall. I’ve got some IcyHot if she needs it.

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Mr. Dow’s Wild Ride

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. As the cold abates, the rain moves in. Still a good reason for inside activities. I’ve staked out a week long project with the painting of the Rec room. It’s funny how things don’t look so bad over time, and then you put a fresh coat of paint on a wall and the wall next to it looks like a remnant from the Civil War. I guess the same could be said when going through my photo album. I just hope nobody says it out loud. As Bocephus used to say, “the one constant is change”, Daddy was deep like that sometimes.

Speaking of change, how about that DOW? Down a 1,000 one day, up 500 the next. If I had any investments other than TackyToo, I’d be having heart palpitations. Fortunately for me, I can stand on my front porch and hit everything in my “portfolio” with a rock. I might have to use a slingshot to hit the back lots, but you catch my meaning. “Put all your eggs in one basket, and watch that basket” has been my investment strategy. I know I’m not doing much to spur the world’s economy, but I think I’m minimizing the amount of damage the world’s economy can do to me. Maybe I’m just shy about investing in something I can’t see, and don’t really know how it works.

I know a lot of folks are real wrapped in the DOW because of their investments, or their retirement fund is stock based. Al Katz, in Number Seventy Two, is a retired teacher and he’s been glued to the big screen for the last week or so. When he can’t get total control of the big screen, he’s watching the PIP for the latest stock quotations. He’s being somewhat of an aggravation to the other members of our little community. His obsession with the DOW makes one think he’s got millions in the market, but that can’t be true. I guess his obsession with the DOW is that everything he’s got is tied up in the market. If you can’t afford to live in TackyToo anymore, where do you go?

My view of the market is one from 50,000 feet. I’ve read a lot of books, and we’ll talk about “The Big Short” one day, but for right now I’ll confine my scope to the daily ups and downs. Like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disney, the roller coaster ride of the stock market is making everyone sick to their stomachs. What’s causing it? Well, right now I’d say it’s oil, or the fact that the major powers have outlined plans for getting off of fossil fuels. Oil has now dropped below $30 per barrel, which goes back to pricing in the seventies. With an upsurge in new clean technology, and the commitment to at least slow global warming, the need for oil is dropping. The world’s needs for power, whether for electricity for our homes, or gas for our cars, will be supplied by a renewable resource. That’s HUGE, HUGE, HUGE!

Now the enlightened individual would say, couldn’t the oil companies see this coming some day? And yes, they could. Some have been investing in clean technology to reposition themselves in the market. Exxon is an example. Exxon is attempting to make fuel from algae, and then plug the fuel into their current delivery system. Sort of a “business as usual”, kind of scenario. If it works. So far, not so much.

Other oil companies, like Chevron, have been investing in new technologies and then hiding them away. The nickel cadium batteries designed for the electric car, the EV1, would be an example. By prolonging the evolutionary change to electric vehicles, Chevron hoped to wring every nickel out of the oil business. Fortunately for the world, their plan was circumvented.

So there you have it, from my viewpoint, you’ve got old money fighting to hang on to what they have, and the old way of doing things, and the new money moving to the future. New money is going to make mistakes, and so there will be some volatility, but eventually it will all settle out. It always has, it’s just a wild ride until it does, sometimes.

The good news is that it’s taking place without my money. Now if I could just get Al Katz to chill out a little.

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The State of the Union

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. The cold and the painting persist. Based off of the forecast, as delivered by the Channel 11’s Whiz O Meter, I’m going to be looking for inside jobs for the next week or so. “Inside job”, I like the sound of that, makes it sound like I might be trading stocks on Wall Street instead of painting the Rec room at TackyToo.  I guess sometimes it’s just how a thing is labeled as to how we perceive it.

Speaking of labeling, President Obama gave his State of the Union address last night, and he took the opportunity to correct some of the labels being thrown on his administration by The Donald and others. Since the address was carried on all of the networks, the hangers on in the Rec room had no choice but to watch the broadcast. I guess I’m lucky one of the idjits didn’t throw a shoe at the big screen. There was such a hue and cry at each of the President’s points that I thought some of the more strident viewers might attempt to turn the TV off. I guess like a fire needs more fuel, a bigot needs more reasons to hate. Turning off the TV would have put out the fire, if you follow my turn of phrase, and no one moved to turn off the broadcast.

I watched the President and I saw a man who projected, “thank God this is the last time I’m going to have to do this”. Not in a rancorous way mind you. It was more the look of a fellow who is at the twenty five mile mark of a marathon and can see the finish line ahead of him. It’s more a look of, “I’m going to make it, it’s been real shaky at times, but I actually think I’m going to finish this thing, whole, and in good health”. As I watched, and perceived the President’s relief that he would be passing the baton on soon, I flashed on the idea of how the first black President would serve as an ex-President. I’m guessing he won’t retire to Chicago to paint self portraits.

Speaking of the idiot Bush, George W., of course, I thought it would be worthwhile to do some comparisons between President Obama and the former standard of the Republican party. I say standard because what the current Republican party requires is a figurehead to do the bidding of the 1%. Someone without conscious, or a backbone. Preferably a member of the 1%, like The Donald would do just fine.

A Google search of the phrase “Obama accomplishments” reveals several lists comprising one hundred and eleven entries. These people are clearly more diligent than I am. I’d just like to preface my list by saying that whatever list of accomplishments that you use, that you weigh those accomplishments in the background of a Congress and Supreme Court that could barely keep from using the “N” word when referencing the President. It has not been easy for the President to do the job we hired him to do. With that said, here’s my list.

1. Saved our economy, and the world’s from a complete and utter meltdown. We were screwed folks, the banks stole everything that wasn’t nailed down, and the Bush administration allowed them to give themselves a raise. Obama and his policies brought us back from the brink. Hopefully, the legislation passed to keep us from the brink will not be rolled back by future Presidents.

2. Passed universal healthcare, enabling over sixteen million people to get health care, and to maintain that care even if they got sick. The Republicans want to repeal “Obamacare” and replace it with their own plan, “get sick, go broke and die”.  So far, they’ve been unsuccessful in their attempt in returning the U.S. to third world status.

3. Ended the war in Iraq, and has made inroads in troop reductions around the globe. His statement that the U.S. could not be the world’s policeman did not play well to the Joint Chiefs sitting in the audience at the State of The Union. They looked like Mt. Rushmore. No war, no glory, I guess.

4. Resumed relations with Cuba, and took a decades old piece of bad policy and called it out for what it was, spiteful. I mean,when you’re punishing the great great grandchildren of folks, it’s gone on long enough, right?

5. Green house gasses and the environment, have been addressed by a President willing to work with other world leaders to bring about a safe environment for ourselves and our children. The science deniers have been shown to the back of the bus, for now.

Well, that’s just five off of the top of my head. I guess I could go on for days, but I won’t. Let’s just say that I think President Obama will be viewed very well by history, particularly with a look at the lack of cooperation he received.

The State of The Union is stronger than it ever has been, thank you President Obama.

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All My Heroes Are Dying – David Bowie

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. I’ve been taking the Reverend Helen Handbasket’s sermon about slothfulness to heart, and using the cold as an excuse to do some inside repairs. Around TackyToo, there’s always something that needs painting. So in the interest of saving my immortal soul, and because the Bread children have been pulling chips of paint off of the Rec room walls and eating them, I’ve decided to paint the Rec room.

I don’t recall if the previous paint had lead in it or not. I’m not sure with that bunch if it would matter or not, if you know what I mean. I am ever mindful that it doesn’t take a sharp witted individual to win a lawsuit, just a sharp witted lawyer. In as much as I plan on preserving TackyToo for future generations of Lites, I’m stripping the previous paint down to the sheetrock. Just in case, you know? The new paint is an eco-friendly paint that Mulva picked up for me over to the Walmart. It’s supposed to be safe enough drink. Heck, I may drink a bit of it in front of Mrs. Bread just to make my point. I’m sure I’ve drunk worse.

Anyway, while scraping paint from the walls I heard the news that David Bowie had died. He was 69, a young man. Well, maybe not young for a rock star, but too close to my age for me to dismiss it. He died of liver cancer, which may have been an indicator of his rock star lifestyle. Apparently, he had been battling the cancer for about eighteen months. Who knew? It’s very sobering that a man that lived his life so flamboyantly, died so quietly. There was clearly something there deeper than the makeup, glitter and good hair.

Everyone who was alive at the time of his release of a Space Oddity back in 1969 remembers the song word for word. Heck, probably everybody since then knows most of the words. My guess is he could have lived a comfortable life off of the royalties of that one song. David Bowie was not a one trick pony though. He went on to have hits in different styles in different decades. Bowie’s persona even took on the alter ego role of Ziggy Stardust for a while. Ziggy Stardust may have been a foreshadowing of Bowie’s desire to act, which he did very well, in my opinion. 

During the Ziggy Stardust period I didn’t follow Bowie, and apparently neither did anyone else. When he released Diamond Dogs back in 1974, I was back on board again. The album featured two hit tunes, the title song, Diamond Dogs, and Rebel Rebel. A long way from “ground control to Major Toms”. Diamond Dogs was one of the two albums I used to play to go to sleep to at night. The other was Tubular Bells. It was a tough patch for me, but not David Bowie. Bowie had moved to the U.S. and was reemerging as a rock star. There were a ton of hits, one of which provided a career for another musician. Bowie’s song Under Pressure provided the bass lick for Vanilla Ice’s Ice Ice Baby, recorded 8 years later. Vanilla Ice claims to have not ripped off the song, but, please. Give both songs a listen.

Bowie’s acting career is as important to me as his musical accomplishments. Some of his films include, The Man Who Fell To Earth, The Hunger and Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence. One of the tests I use to determine if an actor or actress has done a good job with a role is asking the question if I can picture another person in the role. If I can’t, then I determine that they have done a great job. Watch the three movies above and then ask yourself if you can picture anyone else in David Bowie’s role. I bet you can’t.

A little factoid, that I was just reminded of, was that David Bowie was actually born David Jones. Not wanting to be confused with Davey Jones of the Monkees, Bowie took his last name from the famous American adventurer. I guess he felt a kinship with America early on.

Bowie just release an album, and in tribute to his memory, I will buy a copy. Who knows, I may even use it to go to sleep to.