What? Plus. . .

The 19-year-old  female ignoramus who was on the phone with Trayvon Martin just before he began pounding George Zimmerman's head into the cement, reported in court that she saw nothing racist or imsulting in Martin's characterization of the "white Hispanic" as a "creepy-ass cracker."

Let me get that straight.  The word "nigger' is offensive, but black people can call us anything they want.

ELECTRONICS are after me again.  The printer doesn't work, and my piggyback DISH is sporadic at best.  Both. apparently are exhibiting equipment failure.  I remember someone telling me that modern electronics  are virtually indestructible, and are reliable for years.  He didn't tell it to the junk over here at our house.

THE E-R may not print my take on the Zimmerman case, just as I'm beginning to look more like I know what I'm talking about.  I'm starting to draft some good new stuff, however, about the "eight commandments" ( Which postulates that God was created in our image, rather than the Catholic Church's opposite take.),  and another attack on the nonsense about under-performing schools, instead of under-performing students. (Why would school districts hire stupid or incompetent beginning teachers when on the salary schedule the pay is identical?)

RECENTLY, in response to a pop-up. I requested info on a mortgage refinance.  Using the name Resi Dent, I received four voice-mail and four email messages, addressed to, variably. Resi,  Mr. Dent, and Mr. and Mrs. Dent.  They wouldn't accept my usual R. E. Sident because of the initials, so I didn't bother to try O. C. Cupant, my other favorite.  (Remembrances of my days as a letter carrier.)

Two (count 'em) Obamanations

1.  Fluffy, are you still alive?  Come back; we can be remarried.  It's legal in California again.  Don't be sheepish.

2.  The USDA in Sacramento has called our answer machine six times.  At least that's who the ladies say they are.  They are doing a "citrus survey."  They leave no number; they just keep calling back.

I suppose they think we have an orange grove.  What we do have are several trees, the harvest of which we juice, eat, and give to friends and family.  No money is being made or lost.  We've been here for 10 years, so this thing seems to be new. 

To me it looks like someone got a grant and is being paid piece-work to report each person who enjoys orange juice for breakfast.  Why don't they just "make it up" like so many other government employees do?

Idiocy

While in college in the middle of the last century, I was privileged to enact a small role in the premiere production of the folk opera, "Michigan Dream" composed by Michigan State University music professor, H. Owen Reed.  It rests somewhere in obscurity.

One night, after rehearsal, some cast members and I went to the woods and drank too much alcohol.  One of those companions claimed to be a member of the Flying Wallendas.  We got the munchies, and when we arrived at a late night diner, he walked its length on his hands.  After the show, I never saw him again, so all I can affirm is that one feat.  I wouldn't, or couldn't, have done it.

Any moment now, a member of the Wallendas named Nik is going to walk on a wire across the Grand Canyon.  Why?

I only ask because I have spent a lifetime avoiding risking my life for cheap thrills.

Is this a poem?

I must have missed the memo;

I'm supposed to be enjoying my retirement?

I remember being a child on Christmas morning.

First it was oatmeal and church, because

Mother had her routine, but

More love than I have seen since.

The pedal car and the high-top boots were always too expensive, but

One of the first ballpoint pens was a pleasant surprise,

And almost a foot long.

Then. life intruded, and

After years of what my son once described as mere contentment

 Rather than joy,

Followed by the present threat of a coming period

Of social upheaval,

Now I hope there is a Heaven

Where I can finally recover that Christmas feeling.

For my information

I have discovered that USPS media mail is dirt cheap, and if you do include some writing, such as a greeting card, and you confess to it, all you have to do is add 46 cents (first class postage), and they won't tear it open to look, as the sign on the wall threatens.  I don't want to think about what happens if the parcel contains even more, but $13 was outrageous and more than the cost of the contents.  Of course, that may only occur in our pleasant little town.

I JUST CAME ACROSS the word gedankenexperiment (1941) which is defined by Merriam-Webster as "an experiment carried out in thought only."   Isn't that what most "science" is?

Weakness

Despite my vow to do otherwise, I watched the first episode of this summer's misnamed talent show.  The format has not changed.  They still insist upon bringing out people with no discernible talent and embarrassing them.  They also show tiny snippets of some contestants who will actually be moving on.  I was annoyed, yet again.

The new Spice Girl won't shut up, and Heidi Klum looks like a deer caught in the headlights.  Pray I will have the power to resist next week,

ONE TIME ONLY:  "High Wall," 1947 with Robert Taylor, Herbert Marshall and Audrey Totter.  Completely unbelievable murder mystery.  The accused looney and his headshrinker fall in love while solving the crime he didn't commit.  One lobotomy, uh, star rating.