We are all familiar with "bubbles," not Michael Jackson's monkey, but financial speculations.

 

With Barry's Presidency, I think, we are witnessing the "inflation" of our first President Bubbles.

 

The "dot com bubble," the "housing bubble," the "auto bubble," et al were specific sectors of our finicial system (with ripple affects in others, to be sure).

 

Barry's disciples are not investing in the President (for they have nothing to invest), but "expecting" in the President. Investing is risking one's hard earned capital. Expecting is risking one's over blown presumptions. His disciples are "expecting" President Barry to house them, feed them, employ them, and more. As history has proven time after time, there will be a market correction, with either who works for us or for whom we now work.

 

With Barry's appointments of "czars" in every area of our lives, these Presidential bubbles will be felt throughout society.

 

My advise would be this: Sell Barry Short. Every industry he addresses, sell short. Every sector of our private institutions that he touches is guaranteed to fail, which will then be money in the bank....if there will be any left.

 

     I gotta start somewhere, so I'll start with the parking lot. I arrive at the grocery store for another day of purchasing food. There are two sets of double doors on each end of the grocery store in which to enter or exit. I select the set of doors I will be entering and exiting and simply choose the lane that is directing the traffic away from those doors and park in the first available space. I have never been left looking for my automibile with this system.  I always end up behind someone who is waiting for another automobile to leave their coveted spot. They wait for a long time in order to get a closer parking spot. I maneuver around that driver and park several parking spaces past that driver, usually at the end of the parking lot. I am always walking past them as they park their car. They may have parked closer, but the time lost is immeasurable, also I think,"You probably need the exercise."

     In the store people are exactly the way they drive. I encounter slow people. I encounter clueless people. What a much more pleasant experience if people would simply travel the aisles the way we should drive on the streets; on the right side. Too many people park their carts on one side of the aisle while browsing the shelves on the other, therefore leaving no room to pass. I quit saying,"Excuse me" a long time ago. Now, I just race my cart into their personal space and they move.

     If I am purchasing more than one item, I always get a shopping cart. I don't understand carrying all those products, especially knowing I'll be waiting in a line. I have never used one of those handbaskets. Get a cart!

     I saw a woman with a child strapped to her chest, hands full of products, and trying to talk on the phone. Not only was she oblivious to those around her, but she was obviously stressed and didn't know why. Get a cart!

     While waiting in line my hands are free, so I skim through the magazines while I wait my turn. Those that think they were only getting "a couple of things" and are left holding them are much more impatient; pissed even. Get a cart!

     I want to know which came first: The 517 lb. woman or the electric shopping cart? If it's the 517 lb. woman, then how did they get their groceries before the electric shopping cart was available? If it's the electric shopping cart, then is it exascerbating the 517 lb. woman's weight problem? Also, I find it funny that the basket on those electric shopping carts are only two feet square. Shouldn't those baskets be the size of Toyotas? How do those women get so big?!

     By the way, how many people have experienced this: you make a "BEER run." While at the store you think of something else you want for later. I get in line with a case of BEER and........pancake mix. The clerk looks at the combination of case of BEER and pancake mix.....I say, "Yeah, I'm responsible for bringing the party."

    For those who have read this far, here's a rare picture of Your's truely, taken during the Carter Admistration......in the Presidential Limousine, of course:








    

     Announcer: "Good evening. And welcome to the 'Antiques Sideshow.' Today, we are here at the Convention Center  where hundreds of people have brought what they think are treasures. Let's go to the floor and see."

     Appraiser: Hi. So, what's your name?

     Republican: [shakey voice] Mary Hillsdale.

     A: Wow! You're pretty old. Did you want yourself appraised?

     R:[slapping his forearm] Oh, stop that.

     A: I will say that you have beaten the record for the number of pieces that one person has brought in.

 

     R: I know...I don't know where they all came from.

     A: Can you tell me how you came about getting these?

     R: Well, everyone kept telling me,"You have to have it. You just have to have it." So, I decided to take it.

     A: Let's start with this one on your left. Do you know what that is?

     R: I was told it is a "politician."

     A: Right! Do you know what "kind" of politician?

     R: I was told it is a "Presidential" politician, but i've also heard it called: "Republican," "Moderate," "Conservative" and so many others....I just don't know for sure.

     A: Well, let's turn it around. This is how we can tell. Do you see there? In the back just below the waist, we grab what we call the "nape." If you pull really hard...like this....[POP!]....then you can see what we call their "head." And by examining this one, I can tell this one is a "McCain" politician.

     R: Oh, I see. I didn't know that.

     A: Also, if we pull back the veneer, we can see that he is definitely not a Conservative politician.

     R: I didn't know you could remove their veneers.

     A: With most antiques, you never want to clean them. Collectors like the patina that comes with age, but with politicians you definitely need to clean them. Professionals like clean politicians. So, you need to clean them, or replace them, as often as possible, because they get dirtier the longer you have them.

     R: Ok. [checking her hearing aid]

     A: Also, check the pockets. Always check the pockets of politicians when you get one. I'll check just one. [pulling out a stack of papers] This is what's called "McCain-Feingold." The greatest assault on Our First Amendment to The Constitution of The United States. Authored by this "Presidential politician."

     R: Oh dear! Nobody ever mentioned that.

     A: Right. And what can you tell me about these strings hanging off him?

     R: Well, they are attached to all those other people.

     A: And do you know what those other people are?

     R: I sure don't.

     A: They're lobbyists. I'll show the audience just one. [following one string from McCain's back pocket] This string is attached to what is called "Keating." And by looking at the condition of Keating, you must have been lugging this around with your McCain for quite some time.

     R: I have.

     A: And you have brought in several other pieces that go with your McCain too, I see.

     R: Yes.

     A: Do you know what those are? And how many would you say you have?

     R: Well, people have told me that they are "undocumented workers." I haven't counted them in quite some time, but I remember it was about, oh, twenty or twenty-one million or so? But it looks to me that there are so many more than that.

     A: Actually, they're called illegal aliens. You are breaking the law by being in possession of these "pieces."

     R: Oh, my!

     A: HAHAHA! Don't worry, though. That crime is never prosecuted.

     R: Well, good.

     A: Have you ever had your collection appraised?

     R: No, I haven't.

     A: Well, if I had this collection in my House I would estimate that I would be out of pocket about one thousand, seven hundered, and forty-two trillion dollars in today's market.

     R: Really?! I never knew.

     A: Not to mention that it would lower the property value too.

     R: I see.

     A: Right! The market for "Presidential politicians" has really taken a dive since '84. 

     R: Will the market ever rebound?

     A: I don't think it ever will with people hanging on to these like you brought here.

     R: Oh, my.

     A: So, what are you going to do with your "pieces" now that they have been appraised by a professional?

     R: I suppose I'll try to pawn them off on someone else.

     [both laughing]

     A: Thank you for bringing them in for us.

     R: Thank you so much. We've had a ball.

     Announcer: "That concludes this episode of 'Antiques Sideshow.' I hope you enjoyed it."

     [cue music]

    

     Recently I was "Guest of Honor" at a dinner held by the most lovely and gracious Hostess (truth be told, I call Myself "Guest of Honor" everywhere I go). Because of Her generosity, when She hosts an event anyone and everyone is invited, meaning that one person always makes an appearance. Everyone knows about whom I am referring. I don't make the rules, I just make fun of people.

     This particular person is a thin female with long straight black hair, never wears make-up, and majored in "Education." I call this hippy chick "Pistil."

     Pistil: "Oh, do you like my new frock?"
     JC: "I thought you were holding curtains."
     Pistil: "It's earth tone"
     JC: "Right, brown."
     Pistil: "I got these Tevas in Italy when I was there volunteering to help fight 'hunger.' They're made of hemp."
     JC: "How many meals could you have bought for the price of those 'pot sandals?'"
     Pistil: "And my poly-blend knee-highs."
     JC: "Socks."

     JC: "So, what did you do this summer?"
     Pistil: "It's called 'global warming.'"
     JC: "We're having chicken for dinner."
     Pistil: "That's murder."
     JC: "Tomato."
     Pistil: "NATZI!!!!"

     This Hostess has always provided (nearly) everything for Her events, but there is one thing I've learned from Pistil and it is this: when a Conservative has a problem, they seek a solution....when a liberal has a problem, they seek to make it everyone's problem.

     Pistil enters the kitchen carrying a wicker basket lined with linen. She places the basket on the table and opens the cloth and says,"I always bring spelt. Some people are sensitive to glutens found in normal bread."

     Now, I know what You are thinking My fellow "knuckle-draggers," so I looked it up for Us:

     spelt (spelt) n. A hearty wheat grown mostly in Europe, purchased at select "organic" markets, eaten by elite liberals in order to feel like an elite liberal.

     Pistil: "Would You like some spelt?"
     JC: "No thanks. I don't eat anything named in the past tense. It sounds regurgitated; like having 'steaked' or 'hamburgered.'"
     Pistil: "I brought my own honey. I only eat honey that was created using humane conditions by an apiculturist. It's healthier."
     JC: "Really? People have been consuming garbage since the Dawn of Time and y'all still complain about 'over population.'"
     Pistil: "I brought some organic vegetables just in case someone else would like to have good food."
     JC: "Thanks, but I'll just have some meat topped with meat with a side of meat, and meat for dessert. Super-sized."

     There We have it. The perfect word to describe that liberal attitude:

     spelt (spelt) v. -ed, -ing, -s 1. the act of condescending through the use of words by liberals 2. to verbally assault

     Let's try some sentences:

     "Al Gore spelts about 'global warming.'"
     "Mrs. Bill Clinton is spelting about 'universal healthcare.'"
     "Ms. Pelosi spelted to Us about 'minimum wage.'"
     "Ms. Boxer has spelted about 'smoking' and 'trans-fats.'"

     So, the next time You are engaged in a dialogue with a liberal and it feels like something just spilled on the front of Your shirt, You have just been "spelted."


     

    

  Everybody has one.

     We were eighteen. A friend and I decided to spend "Spring Break" in Cancun. We signed up for seven days of complete hedonism in a luxury hotel with rooms over looking the ocean. We made sure to book the first flight out and the last flight in to maximize our time in Nirvana.

   
     We board the plane at DFW International to find scores of others with like minds. The flight was one loud obnoxious ride all the way down.

   
     We land, exit the plane, walk across the tarmac and on through customs. We were then directed to the bus that would be taking us to our hotel. Entering the bus there is an icechest filled with bottles of BEER. I said,"Now, THIS is how we could get more people to take public transportation!"

    
     It's lunchtime when we arrive at the hotel, so I changed into my swimming trunks, told the employees to take the bags to the room, grabbed a quick bite, and off to the pool. The sun, the beach, the ocean, the music, the drinks, the women......everything I dreamed of and more.

  
     I walked on over to the bar for another drink. There was a guy and a gal seated with their backs toward one another, so I squeezed in between them to reach the bartender.
     I overheard the guy tell his friend,"Yeah, I saw your ex. I wanted to go talk to her, but I didn't have an opening line."
     I butted in with,"You should have told her,'We have something in common: I broke up with him too!'"
     At that moment I heard an uproarious laugh and felt a slap on my back. I turned around and there was this man that was at least a foot taller than me and had a USMC tattoo on his forearm larger than my head. It turns out that this Man is a Marine and I just insulted his Privates.
     He told me,"You're funny. Let me buy you that BEER."

     Not only did I then have a license to smart off all I wanted, he attracted the chicks like no other.

     For the next several hours it was drinking, chicks, drinking, dancing, chicks, drinking, swimming, chicks, drinking....

     The sun was going down and everyone was discussing where we would be moving the party when it hit. I got very nauseous; not "too much drinking" nauseous or "I ate something bad" nauseous, not "I drank the water" nauseous, but "I've never felt this before" nauseous.

     I snuck away from everyone in order to go to the room and lay down. I didn't tell anyone, obviously, because I didn't want those Marines to lose respect for me.

     A little while later I get a phonecall. I go to reach for the phone and OH, THE PAIN!! I pick up the phone and I hear lots of screaming and yelling....someone shouting for me get to room #1234...I said I'll be right there and hung up. I turn on the light.......I'm burned.....VERY burned....never before burned like this.

     I sit up, it took me forever to just sit up. I knew I had to go get some aloe. I get my sandals and not only was the pain beyond description, but they would not even fit! My feet had swollen! They were purple! I reach for a shirt. OH, THE PAIN. That event took about five hours to accomplish.

     When I walked, my skin had shrunk so much that I could feel every single vibration of every square inch. I would stand on one foot and it would turn ghost white until I lifted it up...then the other. My scalp was so scorched that I could feel my hair growing.

     Walking by people in the hallway, in the elevator, through the lobby made their eyes pop open and their jaws drop. Most of them offered to get me "help," but I respectfully declined because I was not going to any hospital there.

     I make it to the gift shop, found the aloe, and purchased ever single bottle.

     As I applied the aloe, it would disappear faster than I could add it.

     For the next six days I stayed in bed, applied that aloe, ordered room service, watched HBO, had the drapes closed, the air conditioning off, and, of course, no bathing.

     The last day there, I had so much skin coming off of me that when I walked it looked as though I was leaving a contrail.

     Yes, it takes only one time to learn a lesson. I guarantee you that didn't happen the following year.

    

     On this week's episode of "Behind The Blog" we'll meet a tenacious young man named Virginia Daddy. 

     His legion of Friends know him well, but none know the humble beginnings of the man known as "Virginy."

     Virginy began as "just a guy" working the streets, looking for a place to make his mark.

 

 

     His persistence has earned the respect of scores. He has proven that there is no mountain he ain't willing to climb.

     So, here's a TEXAS size "Howdy" for a job well done.

     Since the election is just around the corner I figured I'd chime in with a post relating to ShiningCity's before it's too late.

     This conversation took place after the election of '06, but it is still apt. It was between me and someone who told me that the democrats' success was because Republicans and Conservatives "stayed Home."

Me: May I ask you to name a restaurant you frequent?

Repbulican Lite: Steakhouse X.

Me: Do you go there often?

RL: Absolutely! I love it.

Me: What if, the next time you are thumbing through the menu, you come across an item listed,"Dung on a Bun. Real turd, Italian capicola, smoked ham, and provolone cheese all topped with lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo, and our homemade Italian vinaigrette[?]"

RL: I would leave immediately and never go back.

Me: Why? You've been there so many times and you love it so much and enjoy it.

RL: Well, if they would actually serve that, then I would think that having that readily available in the kitchen would affect everything else they have in there. Also, I don't eat $&!# no matter what's it's covered in or how pretty they make it.

Me: What if I told you that there are some people who would still frequent the restaurant despite that item because they know they will never order it, but they still love the restaurant?

RL: I would think they were crazy and I would tell them,"Eat at your own risk."

Me: What if I told you that, after some time, half the restaurant's fare included dung?

RL: I would be sick and I wouldn't understand how the restaurant would stay in business.

Me: What if a number people thought the same way that you did? So many in fact that the restaurant closes. Could I be justified in blaming you for not patronizing the establishment just because of one item on the menu?

RL: No.

Me: Whose fault would it be?

RL: It would be the owner's fault for offering something that repulses their clietele; let's not forget the reputation that it would create.

Me: Exactly. Political parties are no different. There are some that have been in the party a long time and would flee at the first sign of dung. There are some that have been in the party a long time and would ignore the first sign of dung. There are some that have been in the party a long time that they  would tolerate any amount of dung. And there are some new to the party who think dung has always been there. But you don't blame the clietele for the successes or failures of the parties, you blame those who run them.

I do not like someone trying give me $&!# either.

     Many years ago there was a particular topic that would come up between me and friend. After several months of kicking around this topic between us it eventually culminated into a "dare." So, call it stubborn, hard-headed, or Right, I took him up on the "dare" unbenown to him or anyone else.

     I made the proper arrangements, packed my bags into the car, and drove to Las Vegas.

     After arriving in Las Vegas, I quickly learned every industry is unionized save two: "fast food" and convience stores. Since I would NEVER join a union my options were limited, so I walked into a convience store, applied, and was hired on the spot.

     The owner of this store found out I have a penchant for pulling pranks. Here's two with a tip:

     It's not hard to figure out that We, Here in America, generally walk on the right side, the same way We drive. If there are double doors, again, We usually use the one on the right. This store had standard, glass double-doors where you pull to enter/push to exit. In front of the door (that would be the right door if you were walking out) outside on the sidewalk I used liquid cement to secure a silver dollar to the ground about three feet away. Of course, heads up.

     At least once a day, *BAM*, someone exiting the store would ram that door into someone's head that was bent over trying to pick up that silver dollar. I'm telling You it never got old laughing at it. Most of the time it was near hits, but the looks on their faces were sometimes even funnier: their mouth agape, their eyes bulging as they jerk their head back with their arm still stretched out. Other times their fingers would get run over by the door, now that looked painful.

     Also, there was public transportation. The bus stop was just outside the store, in the back. The bus would arrive about fifteen minutes before the top of the hour and then depart at the top of the hour every hour. Since loitering was not legal, one either had to be purchasing a product or playing the slot machines if in the store. 

     I noticed that those waiting for the bus to depart would play the slots until just about time for the bus to leave so as not to have to wait outside. With that I also noticed that they would watch the digital clock placed above the counter. I talked the store owner into trying something: late one evening We set the clock back five minutes. What a world of difference that made. A couple of minutes before the top of the hour the bus riders would walk outside.....then they would jerk that door open, complain that the bus driver left early, sit down and play until they were out of money and walking. It was hilarious.

     Months later, the store owner did show me the significant increase in profits from the slot machines.

     Here is my one and only monetary tip: during my cleaning and straightening routine at the store, often I would come across money laying on the candy in front of the register. Believe me, it happened oftened enough for me to expect it. What I had figured out, for the most part, is that late in the evening drunkards would make purchases with hard money, but it is almost always disorganized. They pull out their money all crumbled up and it always falls around the counter. Those candy shelves are excellent catchers and concealers. 

     This tip isn't limited to Las Vegas either. Last week, to name just one of many times, I was paying at the pump and decided to walk in the store to check the counter. I was greeted by the clerk, "May I help you?" I replied,"No, I'm just checking on something." I found a ten dollar bill right in front of the register. Who knows how long it had been there.

     So, next time you find yourself in a convience store take the moment to glance down. I bet the effort eventually pays.

    

      Here's a couple of thoughts on certain charities, the people,  the approach, and perception. Feel FREE to use any and all at your discretion.

     Numerous times I've had guys walk into my place of business and ask for money for drug and alcohol prevention (always guys with this subject). I walk between them and the door they used to get in so that they hear what I have to say:

Me: Hi. I'm Jimmy and I'm an alcoholic. Would you please give me some money so that I do not drink tonight?
Begger: Whaaaa....???
Me: Exactly. It makes no sense does, does it? It cost zero dollars to not do something. I'm not wealthy by the American sense of wealthy, but I do know one does get wealthy by paying people to do nothing, especially to do nothing to themselves. How about this: you make sure these people who "need" your "help" never have any money so that they may not be able to purchase what it is that you don't want them buying. Sounds like an excellent preventive method to me. If you state that these people would end up stealing in order to get it, then I will call you extortionists.

(I pat myself on the back and repeat the mantra: You know, if I just save one life....)

     Numerous times I've been approached by women who are doing their fair share of raising awareness about something (always chicks with this subject):

Perky: Hi!! Good afternoon!! I'm Jane and I'm part of a group who will be walking this Saturday morning to raise funds in order to raise awareness about aids. Would you like to contribute to aids awareness?
Me: May I ask you how you first became aware of aids?
Perky: Whaaa...??
Me: Did you not ever hear about aids until you saw someone walking?

Perky: Well, I, uhmmmm...

Me: How about this, you come over and mow my lawn and I'll pay you for it and you can it give to whomever you like?

Perky: No thank you, sir.

Me: Since you have these afternoons free, along with Saturday mornings, why don't you get a job that would fill this time, get paid, and give it to whomever you like? You'd be productive and charitable, win/win.

Perky: Well, I, uhmmm....

Me: Could it be that you just want people to know you care? Okay, I now know you care and now I'm aware of aids too! And it didn't cost me a single cent to boot! Thank you. Now, I'm not wealthy by the American sense of wealthy, but I do know one does not get wealthy by paying someone to walk for me.

       How about you pay me to walk overthere and I'll make you aware of something I think you are unaware of, I call it, "Running Out Of Timeism." I will start raising money in order to raise awareness of "Running Out Of Timeism" and to lobby the government so that they may start to regulate and redistribute time for all of us (one can argue that they already do). [Then for even more sarcastic effect: "Women, children, and minorities are hardest hit."]

(I pat myself on the back and repeat the mantra: You know, if I just save one life....)

What about corporations willing to donate based on an athlete's performance or a team's performance?

For example:

For every homerun batterA hits this year, XYZCorp. will donate x dollars to POOROrphanage. Does this affect the game? Is the opposing team now against POOROrphanage? Does the pitcher, who strikes out batterA, go tell POOROphanage that they will have to make do without? What if batterA needed to advance some baserunners by butting in order to win the game? Does batterA go tell POOROrphanage that they will have to make do without? What does all this tell you about XYZCorp?

     Here's one that happens every Holiday Season:

Me: So, what are you doing this year?
Perky: Well, like we do every year, we are going to find someone for us to sponsor from an Angel Tree?
Me: Why?
Perky: Well, they're usually poor and have nothing and kids don't get any presents.....and it feels good to give to those in "need."
(I can go one of two ways with this one: what does the family do the other 364 days a year or "feels good" route)
Me: It feels good? [chuckle]......

(now, they either think they were insulted or attacked, so they react in kind)

Perky: So, what? I guess you don't give....

Me: No, you don't know what I give, when I give, or even if I give at all. But I will state that I wouldn't give to someone just because of poverty. With this Nation all one has to do is go to a government agency and food and shelter is provided. So long as there is cancer, diabetes, Children's Hospitals, wounded and maimed Military, etc., I do not care to spend my income on people just because they may be "poor."
Perky: So, if or when you give to those places you named you don't feel good about it?
Me: Absolutely not. It saddens me that they exist. It frustrates me to think they may always exist.


     Then, there are those that seek to "save" something. You can tell the size of their ego by the size of what they are "saving."

     The limited ego climbs a tree to "save" a single tree (man, that must feel good).

     A bigger ego goes for a whole species (man, oh man, that must feel great).

     Megalomaniacs goe after Homo Sapiens and saves them from themselves (can't imagine that type of feeling).

     The Super-Duper Megalomaniac saves the Entire Orb (Yes, him).

     Look for the "End Times" when the entire Universe "needs" saving...

 

 

 This my attempt to explain the Party leaders, their decisions, and the ramifications.

We are not discussing democrats vs. Republicans. We are discussing Conservatives and those that call themselves Republicans in the GOP.

Imagine a sliding scale that We are all a part of:

[socialist->democrats]->moderates<-[Republicans<-Conservatives]

[socialist->democrats] are the Democrat party; about a third of the people.

->moderates<- are about a third of the people.

[Republicans<-Conservatives] are the GOP; about a third of the people.

Just as socialists will never Conservatives, Conservatives will never be socialists.

Those brackets cannot get any wider. When the GOP moves the "[" to the left in order to get more votes, the "]" moves left with it, leaving some Conservatives out of the party. The same goes for the Democrat party when moving "]" to the right, the "[" moves right with it leaving some socialists out of their party.

Moderates need to be inspired, not pandered to.

History has proven, with President Reagan and '94, that when the GOP moves the "[" to the right it inspires more people, therefore getting more votes.

(This page was inspired by my experience with Our court "system." Something with which I am VERY familiar as a defendant)

     Back when I was just lil' jimmy carter I was "the snitch." I wanted to Right all wrongs. When I witnessed any wrongdoings I reported immediately and directly to the Highest Authority of all the land: Mom (I never understood why my older brothers did not want me around). I was seven years of age when I proclaimed that I was going to be a prosecuting attorney and put all the lawbreakers behind bars and throw away the key.

     Then I grew up to be Jimmy carter. During high school my interest turned to law enforcement as a police officer. I dreamed of carrying a badge and a gun, busting the lowlifes. I enrolled in the local college studying criminal justice.

     I graduated from high school, had a full time job and a driver's license and experienced Freedom in all Her glory. I am Jimmy Carter. But my idea of Freedom and the government's idea of Freedom are apperently two different things. I think so long as I am doing no harm to another, what's the problem?

     Well, after numerous traffic violations I realized most laws are nothing more than generating revenue for the government. Everytime I am stopped for traffic violations, the more respect I lose for police officers and the entire judicial system. I could no longer imagine myself as a police officer. I simply would not punish someone for doing nothing harmful to another or their property. I have paid for "rolling" through a stop sign, while at the same time there are "speed traps" on the interstate where the officers do not stop a Citizen unless they are travelling at least 15 mph over the posted maximum limit. I think if the law states "55 mph" an officer is sworn to enforce that law, even if someone is travelling 56 mph. But, alas, Our government has grown so big and intrusive that those who are employed by it pick and choose which laws to enforce and Private Citizens pick and choose which laws to obey. It has become a game. The law has lost its word.

     My last experience went like this: I was driving through a posh neighborhood. I was stopped by an officer of the law. He told me the number of laws I was violating and then asked me,"Would you like the citations or would like for me to arrest you?" My first thought was,"What makes you the judge and jury? Why on earth should My Freedom be based on the kind of day an officer is having? Why on earth should My Freedom be based on My ability  to "bs" My way out of being arrested?"

     I calmly replied,"If you are competent in your job, then I expect you to do your best. If I'm firm in my beliefs, then I'll take it." I received six citations.

     I completely understand the difference between deterence and prevention. For example: the last conversation I had with a certain sister-in-law occurred last year. We were standing in the kitchen when the conversation turned to someone who was arrested for driving while intoxicated. She stated that the guy should be put away for a long time. I asked her why. She replied that he could have killed someone. "Really?"

     I grabbed her car keys from the countertop (a Herculeon effort because of the amount of keys and keyrings Women tend to collect). I told her,"I love you so much, that I cannot in good conscience let you drive a car. You COULD get killed." I grabbed her shoulders and began to walk her out of the kitchen and said,"I love you so much, that you COULD get killed since there are knives in there." In the hallway,"I love you so much, that you COULD get killed in here with the glass in the picture frames." I opened a closet door and removed the clothes that were hanging and led her inside. "I love you so much, that I am going to keep you in here so that you don't get hurt." I closed the door.

     I have paid so much money to so many cities and the State of Texas that I should have at least one street named after me. But, unfortunately, I figured the address:

1234 Jimmy Carter's Way
Fort Worth, Texas

just ain't gonna fly.