A girl by the name of, Donna, stopped over last night. She came to check out my flavored pasta sauce because she’d heard (info gets spread quickly here in Clever.) about the delicious aroma wafting through the air, emanating from this place.

She came to the front door even though the garage door was opened wide, being polite I guess. The young lady (well young to me) in her late thirties – early forties introduced herself and pointed to where she lived. Just two doors up and on the other side of the street.

“It’s good to see you guys are doing great! Hi,” she said to Steph through the screen. Stephanie feigned interest as she replied with a “Hello” and headed to her room and more drawing.

Donna continued, “Wow you are such a great cook! Neighbors talk about the wonderful scent, maybe you can teach me? Last night i cooked sauce with diced chicken. Also, I included onions and peppers with some really twirly pasta.”

“Probably Rotini Pasta” I replied. “Sounds great! Maybe you better give me lessons.”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “I’m cooking Quiche, bacon Quiche, with a Raspberry Truffle for dessert. I enjoy cooking and have a passion for cooking so I experiment at times.”

“That is the best thing to do,” I said, “I would be glad to be your taste-tester and especially tomorrow because I love Quiche and all kinds. I’ve never had a bad one!”

“l have to leave for work now. They’ve got me on the graveyard shift over at the recycling place in Republic. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Please give my regards to Stephanie.”

“Well it’s sure been nice talking to you. Let’s get together soon…maybe for that Quiche, give me a call. And it was sure nice meeting you also. Don’t work too hard, bye.



Rudolf’s Revenge

After years of teasing and name calling, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer had finally had enough. He wrote the following letter to the other Reindeer who wouldn’t allow him to play in their reindeer games. For years he had put-up with insults, and sarcastic remarks. All was not beautiful. And then, it got bad, so he magically put pen to paper:

Dear Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder (I know some pronounce your name – Donner), and Blixem (and I realize your name is sometimes spelled Blixen and Blitzen),

I know many things and one is that I seem to have disrupted your happy friendships. However, I’ve only been around since early-on in the 20th-century. If it hadn’t been for my bright nose…why – Christmas would have been missed all those Christmases ago.

Not even you Dunder with your tremendously loud snorts like thunder, nor you Blixem with your lightning fast – light up the sky speed – could get Santa Clause through that ice fog of the day. It was, Rudolf, to the rescue.

And you others, don’t think I forgot about you! Dasher – you are quick. So what? I mean does that really matter when you don’t know where you’re going?

Dancer – What would there be to celebrate and dance about if not for my beautiful, red beaming nose to light the way?

Prancer – Don’t you know the other reindeer think you’re so vain? You always prance about as if you were better than us and almost too good for even yourself!

Vixen – Ahh Vixen. The tricky one. There is something magical about you, but even your sleight of hoof could not rescue that long-ago Christmas. Though you could have entertained us.

Comet – Even your good looks could not have rescued that day so many snowflakes ago. And neither, could your manners and ease with the children.

Cupid – Your affectionate ways couldn’t rescue us that day or others since. You have the ability to bring people together, but so what, if their hands are empty…no Christmas presents. What kind of holiday would that be?

Rudolf – I’m the ninth reindeer, but as I am writing to all of the other reindeer I don’t wish for any of you slower ones to think something is amiss. I haven’t forgotten anybody. And as everybody is familiar with my traits I don’t need to tell all of you what they are, but just so there are no mistakes made, I will jot them down:
a little shy
a leader when need be
loves reindeer games
very playful around friends I know well
love helping others
love seeing new places
steady worker, help the elves get all their Christmas tasks done

And to make our sleigh team number equal, number ten, the newest addition is:

Olive – the tenth reindeer to join Santa’s herd. She had an unpredictable beginning because well, do you remember that line from my song?

“All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names…”

Well many people heard, “Olive, the other reindeer…” It’s true. Olive is the other reindeer. But alas, Olive is nice and a good helper.

She did laugh at me with my big red nose, but it was only because she thought I was an amazing asset to Santa’s team, and she really wanted to be a part of it. So, she started out by teasing but after a short while she stopped. She feared sending the wrong message to one she liked a great deal…me. Besides, everyone knows that when you tease your friends it’s because you really like them, right?

She shyly apologized to me and we’ve been best friends ever since. She loves to play hide and seek, too, but I am still the champion because there is no hiding from me, in the dark.

I am quitting the sleigh team to pursue other delivery options with DHL. They pay something and the hours are shorter. I want to save up for an igloo of our own.

Actually the job has, “Payday every day and no work on payday. Sounds like a terrific job but will let you know if there are any pitfalls. We will rejoin Santa’s team if something goes awry.



The Gun

A poor white boy – a cracka’ – as most in this area are called (the slums and tenement halls of Chicago) seventeen years old, awakens to the pop and rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire in a unit below his.  A new day begins here in Paris on the Prairie (a nickname used by some) whose gun laws are some of the strictest in the country.  And the cracka’ wonders how to get a gun for protection? One that he does not have to register.

“The thought of owning a gun scares me,” Cracka’ Levon said to me. “I fear the gun bein’ stolen, used in a robbery or burglary or even as a weapon killin’ someone. I’d be the registered owner, so who d’ya you think they’d go after? I don’t want any jail time especially for a crime I din’t commit.”

I live across the hall from Levon and my name is “Shaker” ok that’s my nickname, but it will suffice.  I have a pistol from my dead father’s belongings when he died. I knew of the pistol when he was alive…he kept it under his seat, in a holster, and inside of his van.  It was special in that the gun had no registered owner so it could never be traced.  He told me it was won in a craps game.

The beneficiaries of his property, my sister and I divvied everything up evenly – tables, chairs, appliances et cetera everything except for…that gun; that was mine alone with nobody else knowing about it.  I felt justified taking it because of our disparate living conditions. She lived in a mansion, to me, on Chicago’s North Side. Sophia, knew nothing about it, and for sure I didn’t mention it.

I was with Dad when he passed; we were watching his favorite T.V. show, “Judge Judy” and it was about a man suing his male neighbor for causing a divorce between his wife and himself when the men were caught having sex with one another.  That sounds like something that would go on here in these homes and for sure not in the green grassed suburbs where Dad lived.

I called to the nurse and she came running but when she got to his bed (seconds later) there was nothing to be done. I cried because Dad was my hero and my hero died on my birthday, he will forever be missed.

The Robert Taylor Homes from 1973 to 1979 when Levon and I lived there were some of the worst years that project ever had. Terrible things happened including: The Mickey Cobras (MC’s) and Gangster Diciple’s (GD’s) those gangs dominated the housing project. Police intelligence sources say that the elevated number of murders was the result of gang “turf wars”, as gang members and drug dealers fought over control of given neighborhoods.

The Chicago Housing Authority (CHA) estimated that $45,000 in drug deals took place daily. Former residents of the Robert Taylor Homes have said that the drug dealers fought for control of the buildings. In one weekend, more than 300 separate shooting incidents were reported in the vicinity of the Robert Taylor Homes.Twenty-eight people were killed during the same weekend, with 26 of the 28 incidents believed to be gang-related.

Many crimes occurred in the R T Homes, reaching an all–time high in the mid–1970’s. Most crimes committed at the housing project were drug and street gang violence related. In October 1976, 22–year-old Denise Dozier was thrown from a 15th floor apartment window at the project; she survived the incident.  On June 25, 1983, an infant, Vinyette Teague, was abducted from the project after her grandmother left her alone in the hallway for a few minutes to answer a phone call. An estimated 50 people were in the hallway at the time of the abduction, but police were unable to gather enough evidence to make any arrests. She has never been seen or heard from since.On August 15, 1991, shortly before midnight, CHA police officer Jimmie Haynes was fatally wounded by sniper fire from a high powered rifle at the project. He died two days later.  Three suspects were charged with his murder. A maintenance worker at the project was beaten to death by gang members after he allowed police officers access to a building where a gang meeting was taking place in February 1993.  It was a diff’rent time and an obscene, nauseating, and repugnant place. Thank, God, those terrible homes no longer exist. The last of the disgusting places were demolished in 2005.

And d’ya’ wanna talk ‘bout bein’ a minority? There were ninety six percent blacks there. Levon and I were part of the remaining four percent and we are white. That four percent includes a multitude o’ races. Except for each other, our acquaintances were black.  One became a celebrity…Kirby Puckett of the Minnesota Twins baseball team. So many more wound up in prisons across the land.

I sold Dad’s unregistered pistol to Levon when I finally made it outta’ there in 1993. Six months after I moved out, Levon was caught in the middle of a gang shoot out – he was unarmed and heading back to his apartment. Maybe the gun won in a crap game was only imagined…no it wasn’t because I still have the $50 bill marked with Levon’s phone number in red ink.


You Never Know

There is an elderly man whose name is, Peter, and he lives down the street from me. Society pays him no mind. His home is nice enough and even better than many. He is quiet and keeps to himself.

His three car garage is overflowing with empty cans retrieved from the streets. The cans would be pouring out the windows if those windows opened. Instead the garage doors are pulled to the sides and the mountains of cans spill onto the gravel and grass. He has got a couple of older cars that probably haven’t seen a road in ten years…his laying hen uses them for a roost.

The pastor and his helpers – me George – and the other more integral one…the driver and the muscle of our trio, Richard, all possess the same beliefs of helping. We are non-judgemental. All we need to know is whether a person is in need, and when we find out, we deliver. Pastor prays with each one but there are no conditions. Recipients may attend whatever church they wish to; it does not stop our giving. We freely give to atheists for Jesus said something about, ye will know us (Christians) by our works. God is love.

The grass in Peter’s yard is always about a foot high and in need of mowing, It is never any longer nor any shorter. Many times I drive past his place going to my friend’s house and I think of the old guy…wonder if I should stop in to say hi? But I never do.

He is but one that we deliver food to on a monthly basis. And some at church did not want food delivered to this person because they’d heard that he is a wealthy man and in fact owns most of the county, Christians should know better than to gossip.

I did a little investigating on this person but not because of a need to know whether he could afford groceries or not, that is none of my business.

It turns out that Peter’s dad had many political connections and yes Peter was born into high society. His dad was a railroad tycoon from the early 1900’s…/1024px-Missouri_Pacific_Numb… and was friends with James J. Hill a bigger tycoon than his father. But these men foraged for land together and sometimes at odds of one another yet despite their wealth they too, returned to dust.

Though most of Peter’s wealth was squandered he took a gamble when Vegas was new but Peter was muscled out by the organization. He tried once again with the casinos in Cuba at the time of the revolution, but lost out when Castro’s troops claimed everything for their own.

He now leads a quiet existence, but still has his yacht docked at a marina down at the Gulf Shores. I know not its condition. He owns properties, several houses, and according to county records they would fetch a pretty penny. Peter has chosen his own way of living. Right or wrong, that isn’t anybody’s call but his.

Peter, a quiet, miserly man is content with life and hearing about God on delivery day. Maybe one fine day he will be delivered.

Hawks and Doves

“Are you a hawk or a dove,” Phil asked?  

I was unsure what he was talking about so I replied, “A dove,” and he looked surprised.

Unlike the old quick-tempered, Steve, I have learned the advantages of mellowing before ranting and usually the rant isn’t even necessary.   The only thing a quick temper ever did for me was cost me money.  Instead, I have ripened into a calm and humble person.  I don’t try to promote conflict or angst. Alternatively, I have become the one to look for a peaceable solution and that is the reason for saying, I am a dove.

I continued watching, Julia, his wife, insulate my windows with plastic and dry them from top to bottom with a hair dryer so there are no wrinkles.  The plastic tightened and melded to the window and frame to insulate and keep the wind from blowing in around the edges or through the seams.

Now, instead of the furnace running every fifteen minutes, I can actually go hours without hearing that costly sound.  Like today, I left at seven-thirty this morning and before leaving I turned the thermostat down to sixty-six. I’ve been home for a few hours now and the furnace hasn’t been on yet…the inside temp is still at seventy-one.  But when the sun goes down, so do the temps so I will adjust the thermostat up a couple degrees to, sixty-eight.

I asked Phil, “Which are you,” not knowing the significance of either.  

Oh – I know the hawk is a predatory bird and the dove is the symbol for peace, but I don’t attack people until, and, unless provoked.  That was the reason for my reply;  I consider myself a peaceful man.

But when confronted with a quizzical look and these words from Phil, “I’m a hawk,” as he looked down at me and his smile grew wider, (he is taller than me as most are), “When I see something invasive I swoop right down for the kill.”

Actually, I considered him more of a dove type of guy because he is helpful, quiet, loving toward his wife, and a peaceable man like myself.  Being that my vision of him and what he said were so different I looked up main differences between a hawk and a dove, and this is what I discovered:’s explanation – Popularly, “Hawks” are those who advocate an aggressive foreign policy based on strong military power. “Doves” try to resolve international conflicts without the threat of force.

I now understood Phil’s bewildered look at me when I replied that I’m a dove because I am also an Obama opponent.  With regards to the turmoil – and there is plenty – everywhere you look in today’s world. The ways of the dove clearly have not worked.  

Time to be a hawk – Mr. President, bwahaha, as if.

Does the President Have a Conscience


For only the third time in forty years there will not be a cost of living adjustment for us beneficiaries of Social Security and Social Security Disability Insurance.

Strangely enough, this golfing and roundball playing president who pretends to be a champion of the poor and needy, is something else entirely – greedy.  

Many people are out of work and on food stamps.  Yet, our president in all his infinite wisdom (sarcasm) continues spending as if his family only has to pay with Monopoly Money.

Here are some facts concerning this president and his family…

  1. With 31 trips for a total of 119 days abroad, President Obama has now traveled more than any other president, although Bush 43 and Clinton also set records before him.
  2. Air Force One Costs over $228,000 per hour to fly.
  3. The President sometimes travels with a 900-person, 45-car, 2 Air-Force Ones, 3-cargo plane entourage
  4. The 13-hour visit in South Africa for Mandela’s funeral cost an estimated $11 million (including 127 hotel rooms and not including the flight).
  5. Annual costs for supporting the White House exceed $1.4 billion.

By comparison, travel expenses for the Royal Family of Great Britain were less than $9 million in 2012 and the cost to maintain them for the year was $55 million. Bonus: The properties owned by the royals generate north of $200 million in rent, so when you include that figure, England actually makes money on the Queen.

So while the President proposes that we cut our mobile phone service in order to afford his Affordable Care Act, he is setting records on our collective dimes. That’s not Conservative or Liberal, that’s just a fact.

The dems depicted Mitt Romney as throwing old people off a cliff in 2012.  Who is really leading us to the edge of  a cliff, and in some cases, pushing us over? Most everybody now knows except those uninformed voters who prefer to stay in the dark.   Obama in my opinion, has managed to keep poor people poor and needing his government.

Medical care that was affordable before Obama’s care act came into being was taken care of via increases in SSDI.  We were able to hang onto some of our dignity.  Withholding the increases requires us to use government subsidies for the most minor of things because like big government they try making your boo-boo into a monster of a problem.

2016 will again be devoid of a COLA.  Our main source of healthcare, however; will be charging more.  For those of you who don’t know – Medicare is not free it only covers as if it were.  Barack gave the cost of living adjustment during his re-election year of 2012, in essence, buying many of his votes.

Now you know who was president each time the COLA wasn’t given, don’t you?  Barack Hussein Obama… BHO…obummer…the roundball and golf playing narcissist.   2010 and 2011 were the other years.

I haven’t noticed a cutback in the first families vacations or lifestyle and surely this president who is so concerned about helping the poor and disabled would curtail some of his extravagant spending first.  I mean he is throwing all of us old, disabled people, many (including myself) who live below the poverty level under the, hypothetical bus.  

The reason so many people, seniors and disabled alike, voted him and his W H administration in was because of blindly pulling the lever or filling in the dots for the Democratic Party.  Many only vote because of the propaganda heard on network television news channels.  Remember, Brian Williams, and Dan Rather; they were but two of the many to paint a brighter picture when while discussing any news from the Dems.

Taxpayers spent $1.4 billion dollars on everything from staffing, housing, flying and entertaining President Obama and his family last year.  That figure is according to author, Robert Keith Gray, of a new book, “Presidential Perks Gone Royal.”  It is a book concerned with taxpayer-funded presidential perks.

Lastly, nothing but a president’s conscience, (Does Obama even have a conscience) can dissuade him from buying his own reelection with use of some public money.

Thinking of the P C Crowd…..

Recess Requires Consultants Now?

Early this morning on – Fox and friends First – a short story, or report have you, was given concerning the state that I moved from in July and a city at the crossroads of Highways 62 and 100 – Edina, Minnesota.    

This is an upscale city.  Two elementary schools are spending $30k to hire consultants to figure out how to improve recess time.  This is the sort of libtard thinking that prompted my daughter and I to flee that liberally biased place. 

Do you think kids recess should be regulated or do you feel as I do…that kids should be allowed to figure things out for themselves?  In other words, “Let kids be kids.”