In the fall the war was still there

but we did not go to it anymore

— Hemingway, Men Without Women (1927)

By Blue Bronc, Trail Mix Contributor

Some days have a touch of fun, a splash of strange and a dash of nuts. Today is one of those days. Although the work day, I worked at home today, was long and typical, typical in that I achieved no goals which were well planned yesterday, it was the final teleconference call which set the finale. You would think that one hundred people who are on a call every day from two pm to three pm might take to heart the message “mute your phone”, you would think wrong. Today was worse.

On the daily calls is a person who is adamant about muting phones. Today was different. She held several other telephone calls while on the daily call, conversing in a language that all though common, was not English. For some reason she was not listening to the daily call. Others were doing their voice mail, and with a phone on hold music is played, we were treated to Kenny G. The daily call ended early.

After finishing my day I smashed the lid of the laptop computer closed and looked about at my room. I had placed my A/V on mute so I could be on the phone, doing so I had forgotten about it. You cannot multitask no matter how many times you were told you could. After shutting down the computer, I run a media computer for the main television, several other inputs, my mind told my legs “move quickly and hit the head”. When I was twenty, that was easy. Now it takes time, and I tend to be a little easy to distract when walking ten feet. At least I remembered my goal before any splash took place.800px-Tulips_(5527679674)

A few minutes later I was outside planting a few tulip bulbs which had hidden from me last year in a box holding diesel timing tools. It was fun, and a wonderful way to spend thirty minutes outside in the crisp February air. Little did I know, see multitasking above, the mail carrier had come by while I was on the phone. Hmm, now that I think about it, I had the noise reduction ear buds in my ears so I could not hear anything except the phone call.

On sitting down with my new book, fresh out of the mailbox, I could not be more ready for the touch of fun. Philip Greene’s To Have and Have Another. Hemingway’s drink recipes! Reading a few pages I happened to glance up and see a most disgusting image – a fat, little person, covered in body paint and wearing a loin cloth wiggling on the television to some dance music. That has been the weirdest thing I have seen since clips of the clowns on the morning show at seven this morning.

The constant beat of the Republican war drums is stupid. They need to take a trip to the war that never ends in Afghanistan. They want blood, they should go see it, feel it and smell it. They want bombs, they should go sit around in a bomb run. They want the U.S. to fight, they should clean and oil their M-16’s and lead us in. I will not say Obama is right in his policy, however, we may never have the right policy anymore. I do know the Republicans will never have a chance of the best policy because they are not capable of designing it.

One of the best movies for teens is To Kill A Mockingbird. The movie puts some thoughts into fertile brains. Less fertile brains do not understand. It was a shame that Harper Lee burned out on that one book. I will assume that all you have written something for class, perhaps for your work or volunteer activity. You may have struggled with the “write a one hundred word summary of your work” on the job. I will not assume more than a handful of you have written a ninety thousand word book. Most of us find it rather difficult. I know writers who can knock out that many words for a political book, but not a novel unless they spent a year planning it. For Harper Lee and her writings, I hold my glass high.

A Good Wine Needs No Bush

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
(As You Like It, Epilogue / wrathofgrapes.com)

By Blue Bronc, Trail Mix Contributor

The news that George tvi Bush, or Bush II, has been officially pulled from an undisclosed location says it all for the Bush III wannabe. Loudly we now can see how bad the campaign is going. With great ears (many cartoonists have been eagerly awaiting this adventure) sticking out from the supporting structure of the great void, he is ripe to get back on the trail he is.

Although G. tvi Bush has campaigned for his sibling before, it was without the fanfare we see going on to South Carolina. It was Colorado, and it was not to fundraise for the Colorado Dems, that I last heard the goofball went (youngsters, go look up goofball in the google book). And, outside of a few media reports that was it. I heard he has appeared elsewhere but I am not bothering to search for where. It agitates me with a profound hate just to hear, see or think of the guy.

One sentence I read concerning the “debate”, or from other reports it sounded like a free for all cage match, was that JobBush used the free advice I offered and got a stick under the Trump armor. Good. Too bad he did not use his big stick, perchance he does not have a big stick. He could have used a Rubio and sandwiched him instead. The clowns provide little entertainment for me.

This election is full of tricks, stunts and idiocy, so much so our beloved Three Stooges would have been out of business during this long, long year. The media must be changing their collective drawers every hour, or at least you would think so from how they are writing, interviewing, contemplating, guessing and outright making stuff up, just to entertain us. They are putting in overtime on the fully useless information.

I can easily envision Mark Twain sitting at his table writing. Oil lamp providing a soft light on his paper, his pen scratching words and wit, a wisp of cigar smoke providing inspiration. Too bad we do not have him with us. We do have a few gems, Alexandra Petri being one familiar to Trail Mix commentariat. Beside Trail Mix there are many blogs with concerned bloggers bloggitying the night away, well worth finding them. I have not seen the Capitol Steps lately. They are a must for those seeking insider information into politics. They do their act every Friday and Saturday at the Ronnie Reagan Building amphitheater, Federal Triangle Metro stop. Maybe when the weather is better a Trail Mix night with the Capitol Steps would be interesting.

‘I Got The Fever For Some Ham Hocks’

— Goodie Mob (Soul Food Remix)

By Blue Bronc, Trail Mix Contributor

Can I call the Bern to go find where my ham hock went? How about Hillary coming to town and making me a big bowl of ham hock, beans and greens? No need to bother with the Republicans. To them, anyone who would eat a ham hock is not one of their voters (this is guessing they even know what a ham hock is).

All day I had been dreaming of a smoked ham hock in a pot meeting with a pound of split green peas, on onion, a few carrots and celery and some chicken stock. Okay, some thoughts for hot dogs. Not hot dogs in a plastic package which have a shelf life longer than my truck. Hot dogs and a smoked ham hock from the local Dutch/Amish Market (some confusion as both labels are used interchangeably). Hot dogs with a crunch, a smoked ham hock that is big and meaty.

While I was getting a turkey leg to smoke and a pile of chicken leg quarters, someone moved my grocery buggy. Little did I know that, when I took my cart and rolled over to buy a pack of hot dog buns. Hot dog buns that you do need to eat or freeze today. My cart with my hot dogs, smoked ham hock and two pork chops was not where I tossed my chicken and turkey parts.  I got home and had two pork chops and a pound of bacon.

hamThere is something about being in the midst of a couple dozen Amish men, women and children that I enjoy. I have been lucky enough to have grown up visiting their villages and towns since I was a young child. Their lives are very enticing. Oh the lack of anything beyond 1890 is something well known. The other parts of their lives are what I like.

Why would anyone not like a utopian socialist religious society like the Amish? Plenty of fun things to do. Milk cows. Muck the horse barn. Sew your own clothes. Sounds good so far, eh?

Republicans are fervently not Amish. The whole share and work together to make a better day causes them to freak out and stain their drawers.
How about Democrats? Amish? No. Some parts sound good, but being nice to each other every day and sewing your own clothes seem a bit much.

Bernie? How about Bernie in the old Amish community? Nah. He is a socialist, not a utopian socialist, which includes religion. Not that not being religious is a problem for a good share of Americans. His foreign events policy would be interesting to them.

Can you imagine living in a world where the pace is the speed of a horse and you have to do a lot of wood splitting to stay warm in the winter? A place where there is no television, radio or internet.

A place where you do not have to hear or see politicians like the group we have today.

The Truth Is In The Headlines

By Blue Bronc, Trail Mix Contributor

Coyotes tripping on psychedelics could be terrorizing California’s posh Marin County — Raw Story
Do we live in an already-dead ‘zombie galaxy’ and don’t know it? — Raw Story

So where do we fit Trump into today’s headlines? A few things happen to be bigger than a blowhard and his Alaskan camp follower. Speaking of which, Palin disappeared faster than a rain drop in Niagara Falls. I wonder what he is so afraid of to disappear her so fast. She can speak as much trash as he can, but doing it while blinking.

Reading these two stories convinced me once again we spend too much time thinking and not enough time sitting back and watching Mother Nature do her thing. In this case she is playing with stoned coyotes and converting galaxies into the non-living. While we are concerned that HRC might lose the election to someone, TBD, who is just slightly more popular than farts in an elevator (that could be one of several in the clown car). A change of perspective is needed.

wile-e-coyote-5000806Due to a media that lives in false equivalencies the polls cited almost always have something about how Trump is more popular than a good beer belch and HRC is about to be indicted for BENGHAZI* or hiding TS emails on her computers. First, Benghazi is a thousandth rerun of a used car commercial. It is not going anywhere, because there is no there, there. The email thing is partly dumb thinking, but also how things worked.

Reading the reports of the latest “classified” emails makes it sound just like the others which were supposed to be classified. Maybe they are, but not until years after the unclassified original emails were sent. Often things are classified well after the action, which may or may not be important. Considering the time duration, this sounds like someone she had pissed off is doing a little payback. I do not see the email situation as important.

So, in the scheme of how life works, I would rather have an old HRC running the show than any one of the idiots riding around in the clown car. Those fools are completely out of this world or universe. More like they are riding in a Zombie Universe, only now showing up on our Earth to confuse low intake voters.

As for the loud mouth, perhaps that mouth had been used like the shroom eating coyotes? It might explain some of the rude behaviour and stupid things said.

*you have to see the movie, and not the trashy thing on the big screen a few weeks ago

A Lot of People Like Snow

By Blue Bronc, Trail Mix Contributor

“I Find It To Be An Unnecessary Freezing of Water.” — Carl Reiner

As one who is sitting in the dead center of the bulls eye of the Jonas Blizzard, I do agree with Carl Reiner. I have lived through many of the things in Colorado which gave me many important lessons. I learned early to not waste time with bread or yams, go to the liquor store and buy good stuff, for you will enjoy being a little off for thirty-six hours. You may not have electric power to even see the bread or cook the yams.

You cannot use ice or snow in a sandwich, but you can use it to cool beer or add to a touch of distilled grain. Wine. No need for a cellar, hang a bottle out the window for a few minutes. Tired of your neighbors raiding your best booze? Tell them you need them to go to the store for a bottle of orange bitters (Obviously something they would not have in their crappy little bar).

All blizzard, all day and all night. The weather prognosticators are really giddy. Many are not sleeping, for once in their lives, all the forecasts were correct. No “sort of right”. No “ the timing was wrong”. Hurricanes are notorious for being fickle on hitting anything. Northeaster’s are just as bad as their cousins the hurricanes. Daily weather? Ha. The reason weather personalities are so nice is they are the only group who have to be on air with a miserable accuracy of forecasts. You do not want to dislike them because they are so nice.

What I am enjoying more than anything. Really more than anything, including a good Manhattan. No all Trump, all the time, promotions by the talking heads. And, now no G%#^mned Palin (use your imagination about what the Palin mouth churns out) Trump every five minutes. The monotonous display of snow and reporters in snow is a pleasure compared to the insult of the media and Trump-Palin. I am waiting for the blowhard to announce the brainless wonder of Alaska is his choice of VP.

Snow. As much as I do not like it anymore. It is giving me a rare pleasure and peace which will be rare until November.