Cumberland County

Why does Music Scare the Hell Out Of Our Government?

Victor Jara. Singer, poet, activist

Victor Jara. Singer, poet, activist

In the early 1970’s there was a Chilean teacher, theater director, poet, singer-songwriter, and political activist named Victor Jara (pronounced HAR-a.) He was a leading member of a group of folk musicians who established the Nueva Canción Chilena (New Chilean Song) movement. This led to an uprising of new sounds in popular music during the administration of President Salvador Allende and made Victor Jara a famous singer in Chile.

On September 11th, 1973 a CIA-backed coup d’état brought down the democratic Allende Government.

The Chilean military quickly arrested Victor Jara along with other leftists groups. They took them to the Santiago Stadium and locked them inside.

As the crowd waited Victor Jara, guitar in hand, led the prisoners in song after song to help ease the fear. One of the soldiers recognized Jara. He was taken to the center of the stadium and with the butt of their rifles, the soldiers smashed his hands. Afterward they  said “Let’s hear another song Victor.” And “Play your guitar for us Victor” Then a soldier pulled out a pistol and shot Victor Jara in the head.

After his murder, Jara’s body was displayed at the entrance of Chile Stadium for other prisoners to see.  He was 37. His songs were about love, peace and social injustice. Songs scared his government so much they had him murdered to stop his voice from being heard.

The Clash

The Clash

Please remember Victor Jara,
In the Santiago Stadium,
Es verdad – those Washington Bullets again.
~The Clash


I must have read it a hundred times. Entertainers need to keep their mouths shut. You are to be wound up, enjoyed and put away.

~~Bob Marley had an attempt on his life that was politically motivated.
~~Woody Guthrie wrote this ‘Land is Your Land.’ Look up ALL the verses to this song. It’s about socialism.
~~Springsteen wrote ‘Born in the USA.’ President Reagan used it (without permission) as a song to rile up his crowds. Too bad no one on Reagan’s staff bothered to listen to the lyrics. It is a bleak picture of Reagan’s America.
~~’We Shall Overcome’ was sung by the Civil Rights Marchers in the Sixties.
~~ Pete Seeger was blacklisted for not snitching on his peers in the McCarthy hearings.

Burl Ives. Folk singer, snitch, canary, deep throat, fink, informant, nark, rat, rat fink, informer, snitcher, squealer, stoolie, stool pigeon, talebearer, tattler, tattletale, telltale, whistle-blower and all around general bastard.

Burl Ives. Folk singer, snitch, canary, deep throat, fink, informant, nark, rat, rat fink, informer, snitcher, squealer, stoolie, stool pigeon, talebearer, tattler, tattletale, telltale, whistle-blower and all around general bastard.

Luckily Burl Ives came in and sang like a canary. This is why you see Burl in ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ and you don’t hear Pete Seegar as the Snowman in ‘Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer’ in fact, you didn’t see him for close to fifteen years. Thanks Burl. I love pissing off of the Burl Ives Bridge any chance I get.
~~James Brown stopped Detroit from rioting after MLK was killed by playing his show live on the radio.
~~Sammy Davis Jr. arguably the most gifted entertainer of all time worked as the first black entertainer in Vegas. After selling out his shows at the Sands he would have to go stay at a hotel across town because the Sands didn’t allow n****rs in their hotel.
~~The CIA has a file on John Lennon.
~~Bob Dylan had something to say…

They all scared the living shit out of their leaders. Music. If we are entertainers why do you care if we protest and join a cause? Because we know something that you know too. You can’t live without music in your life and sometimes that music has a message. It’s been that way since the first caveman beat on a log in 4/4 time.

Around 1982 A waitress from Detroit hopped onstage with thrift store clothes and a piece of pop fluff she called a song. She turned that into  ½ a billion dollars. Madonna had no  million dollar start up. No TV show to make her famous in six weeks. She didn’t have producers fixing her vocals. She negotiated million dollar deals constantly, then she hopped her happy ass on a tour bus and spent years on the road.

She is a self-made millionaire who took her shot and made it. 30 years later she is a Superstar. From Ramen to riches

Trump’s dad gave him a small million dollar loan and a bunch of cronies. But Madonna is the one who should shut up because she’s an entertainer…. SHe doesn’t know what it’s like to be one of us like Trump does.

Anyone here ever been to Detroit? Then you know what I mean.

To quote Madonna “FUCK!”

In physics, string theory is a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects called strings. It describes how these strings propagate through space and interact with each other.

In physics, string theory is a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects called strings. It describes how these strings propagate through space and interact with each other.

I am an American
I have the right to speak, even if it isn’t what you want to hear.
I am an activist. I act on things that are important to me. Your lack of empathy won’t stop me. Your apathy is what I’m counting on.
I am not a jukebox or a toy. I am a skilled entertainer with the broken hearts and scars that go with it.
I am informed. Musicians don’t listen to music after a gig. Talk radio is king or silence. I listen to a lot of news.
I read. I can tell the difference between a fact and an opinion. I don’t need led by the nose.
No, I don’t have to see it your way.
I don’t believe in Alt-truths any more than you do.
I don’t have it any easier than you do.
I have sacrificed to become the entertainer I am. I know what it means to be poor.
I am educated and smart.
I won’t accept lack of compassion as an excuse.
I know shit from Shinola so don’t piss on my President and tell me it’s raining.
….And I can play a bad ass fucking guitar
–S.

Like Share Comment. What do you think? Why does music scare our leaders?

Madonna…. Keep preaching sister. What is this? An entertainer expressing her view? I thought putting a boot in your ass was the American way?

Factcheck.org… A Liberal Rag. My Views on the Woefully Uninformed

The title of this post comes from a discussion I had earlier this week. It’s a Trump world where his supporters are somehow emboldened to say what they want no matter how little they have investigated. Where does this false sense of pride in a grown man’s ignorance come from? Why does he feel he can get personal with my life? It is because his mentality has become mainstream. If Trump can grab a woman’s pussy, then by all means psychoanalyze me.

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                         Poor Parenting

My choice to move wasn’t so that I could pee with other liberals. It wasn’t because I’m embarrassed where I come from. It was a mixture of many things.

 

I’ve never hidden my depression and at times it became debilitating. It was chink in the armor the man used. The problem was, it removes the question of his character also. He has none. But his leader can find fault with someone suffering from Muscular Dystrophy then he feels like it’s fair game. Well score one for you.

Somehow this man feels superior in his ignorance and child-like name calling and keyboard warrior-like threats of physical violence. ( A sure sign you are winning an argument). He has no idea how petty I am. You never want to mess with a man who possesses graphic artist skills like mine. Not only could I make a picture of him singing “Lime in the Coconut” while dressed as a penis… I could have it seen by thousands of people…Not wise. Kind of like in the music business, never argue with the soundman. He’s holding a serious hand; you better hope he has mercy.

I use my friends to test out new projects. Thank You Doug. You Da Man!


This guy forgot, or maybe never considered that the town I love and the people I see and also love, became a constant reminder of dark days. Not their fault at all. A trifecta of heart breaks leaving me numb to any sort of love in my heart for years. That my one constant, music, had become something I dreaded due to burnout and lack of inspiration. I stub my toe on the ACME Anvil that is in the form of a half-finished album. I just don’t have the words. Here is a demo I have had in the can for two years.

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                  This is what I see when I go to a concert.

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   These people made me a better musician and have all been great friends.

For 25 years I have been in the smile business. I sell smiles. Here, have one on me. Looks good on you. Have another. I did it with a guitar and some of the most talented and grooviest people in the world. Some people get their smiles from riding a Harley, or mudding in a Jeep. They get it in a sport. They let it loose as a fan. What happens when that smile is missing from your own life? I worried a lot of people over the years and felt the resentment. I decided I could get by, or get going.

 

My cat Milton and I packed in an hour. And as I gassed up the car I said goodbye to the lady at the Casey’s General Store. I hit St. Louis and took a right. I drove as far as I could without drowning. Like the Joad Family, promises of new starts, new chances, high paying work in my field.

I weighed the two options. I decided to leave it all and go. The  adventure of a lifetime. Going with nowhere to land. Scariest and most exhilarating experience I have ever had.

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                            I’m out of here

I know a few people here that are quickly becoming friends of mine. I opened my windows on Christmas Day, and I drove ten minutes down to the Pacific and watched the Sea Otters playing in the kelp. I’m living simply but I am living again. I have guitars, recording equipment, and blank paper. I’ll be using them all.

Not with a smile but with a brazen grin. Because I’m up to no good.483df5cc296b94a34e329291b0125109

What Was the Best Day of Your Life?

The election has taken its toll on me. I look at people differently. Maybe this simple question will realign how I look at the world.

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My 2000th Sound Check….Ugh!

I’m pretty lucky to have had a life of being an entertainer. My job is to make you happy. I’m in the smile business. I’ve always given 100% when it comes to me giving you your money’s worth. I didn’t hit it on the head every time but I sure as hell came into the game with that on my mind.

I picked up my guitar and played it and winked and smiled. I slapped hands, snuck people backstage, told stories, and wrote songs. I juggled; I did magic tricks (I’m a fairly good magician in case you didn’t know) I did it even when there was a party I wanted to go to, or my depression had kept me in bed until I left for the shows. Hiding anxiety and sadness many times so that I wouldn’t let down my band mates or my audience. Some days I hid it better than others, but those are stories for another time.

So let’s think about this. What were the best moments I have known….

My first kiss. I won’t embarrass the young lady that gave it to me. As they said in Stephen King’s “Hearts in Atlantis”; It is the kiss that all other kisses will be measured by.

I was at the Cumberland Co Fair when a girl I knew asked if I wanted to go uptown with her other two friends. I said ‘Sure!” Having a crush on the gal superseded the “Don’t leave the Fairgrounds” instructions that had been laid down by Ma.

3cb9dd7c4449b87759645e740542e92aWe hopped in the back seat and somewhere along that ride she laid a kiss on me that curled my toes. I was so scared. I didn’t give her a feel up or anything, just kept kissing.  I was IN LOVE! I couldn’t sleep for three days. I wasn’t hungry for a week.  It was the last kiss I ever got from her. I’m not sure why? Like it matters. It was perfect for a few minutes.


For my birthday my Mom bought me a boom box. I was about 13-14 probably and was obsessed with music. I listened to the radio constantly. The radio tuner quit working after a few months.

My Dad wasn’t around much and when he finally came home I asked him to fix it. He’s a handy guy. Got it to working in about ten minutes. About a week later it quit dialing again. No telling when the Old Man was going to show back up at home.

Ma got the screwdriver out and took the boom box apart. She fixed it.

14938220_10211416113624679_3024598311309867963_nI guess it was at that moment I realized we were going to be okay without my Dad around. Mom and Michelle and I were going to be OK because we didn’t have to wait around for the old man to reappear when he decided to.  Fuck him. The three of us were a pretty good group of people. Better than the barflies and whores my dad spent most of his time with. We didn’t have much but we never felt unloved. Mom made sure of that and I know sacrificed a lot for us and still does to this day.

I played a lot of gigs in my day. Some with huge arena crowds and some to the bar staff. The ones that stand out were the ones that happened when I was coming up.

My first band Bootleg, were playing a little knife and gun club outside of Greenup, IL called El Patio. I had found two huge bags full of these hollow plastic balls with faces on them. They were like a whiffle ball in size and weight. They were called “Ugly Balls”

832d925da7220111148bb36d5ef3e285Bootleg is pumping out tunes like  “All right Now” and “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” while dodging  Ugly Balls that were being tossed full speed across the bar. I was playing with my best friends Rod, Doug, Bugsy and George to about 50 people who were having a ball. It was the first time I found out I could make OTHERS happy with my limited knowledge of the guitar.

I have always believed that every night the best band in the world is playing their best show ever. The band changes from night to night. I’m happy to say I feel like I have played in the best band in the world a few nights.

My first big indoor show was opening for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in Mattoon, IL. Sold out show and my R&B band Dr Wu was opening the show. That band had a great set that we had honed to a razor’s edge. Pat the sax player always said, “Give this band 45 minutes and we could take on anyone.”

fee9bef7a4073cae14a2db0a60049c2fRight before we were about to go up the ramp to the stage, Doug Evan’s, my best bud from High School and band mate shook my hand. We started playing together knowing two songs. “Wipe Out” and “Paranoid” All that work was paying off with high paying gigs all over the country and then some. Doug’s handshake that night was different. An epiphany that we had surpassed our dreams. The next 45 minutes we tore the stage up with swinging horns, great tunes, pounding drums and classic R&B music blasting out as only a clueless all white rock  band could. A standing ovation for the open band.


I met a gal in San Francisco. We saw a jazz concert featuring Esperanza Spalding. I could have sworn once those lights went down, Esperanza played just for the two of us. Lisa agreed. Amazing feeling.


My main girl Susan came over for my birthday a couple of years ago and made lunch and spent the day just talking stupid stuff. Meeting Susan was one of the best days of my life.


A buddy sat in on bass one night at a show in Greenup. I asked a girl to dance. It was the closest dance I ever had. Silently two people held on for dear life as we danced to Van Morrison’s ‘Into the Mystic’


Hands down though, the best day I ever had in my life was the day my girlfriend and future wife, Shannon told me she loved me. She was painfully shy and quiet and the nerve it had to take to say those words had to be one of the toughest things she ever had to say. It was returned in spades.

57d19a2c7af888af166edd1cde724a91I will always love her even though we aren’t together anymore. Shannon is one of the greatest women on the entire planet. I miss her sometimes at unexpected moments. She loved me without condition. I screwed it up and a lot of self loathing comes along with it. If I had only not been so scared to get help with my depression instead of running from it till it was too late. She’s living a better life than I could have ever given her. She’s remarried to a good man, she has adopted two babies and I have no doubt those kids won the lottery when they came home with Shannon. A mom who knows nothing but love.

I have love for all my friends, some helped me get up when I was broken down I treasure them for it. I do have the best friends.

So there it is.

Tell me about your best day and let’s forget about hating each other for a minute just to relate a story. I’ll protest tomorrow. Today is all about us. We are all on the same side of the fence when it comes to the best day ever.

Below the video is a link my last album. It’s your’s for the taking. I hope you enjoy it.


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You Have the Mark of Cain in your Underwear

I swear on all that is Holy that I have seen the light. It’s a black light though. The kind you don’t want to turn on in a cheap hotel.

I have been disheartened before, but never like this.

As a musician most of my heroes were black. Jimi Hendrix, Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, Sammy Davis Jr., Miles Davis, John Coltrane,  Howling Wolf… I could go on for days. The music you hear today, YOUR favorite song,  came from these people. I have stood onstage playing with the Shirelles, the first black girl group. Sam Moore, the Soul Man himself. Gene Chandler, The Duke of Earle.

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Miles Davis

I’m not saying that I don’t have just as many white musical gods. Van Halen, David Gilmour, Bob Dylan, Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett, THE SCORPIONS! They are soulful players and writers.(Ok that’s a stretch for the Scorps but they made me want to play guitar in the first place) You can draw a line from a Black Southern Baptist Revival to your favorite song.

Little Richard invented Rock and Roll. A homosexual black man during the 50’s. Thank him when you turn on your stereo. Thank him twice when the stereo does the same thing to you.


When the first rehearsal came with Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member Sam Moore. I shook his hand and told him I couldn’t come up with the words to tell him what an honor it was to be playing behind him. The man popped out classic tune after classic tune. Hold On, I’m Comin’, When Something is wrong with my Baby, I Thank You, Soothe Me, Soul  Sister, Brown Sugar, and yeah, I’m a Soul Man. He has recorded and performed with Springsteen, He has performed at the White House, and He is a National Treasure.  It was like a Catholic getting to have an hour long conversation with the Pope.

I have a tattoo of the Rat Pack on the back of my arm. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. One night at a Casey IL bar, the local meth head wanted to see my tattoo sleeves. I was happy to show her. When we got to Sammy Davis she asked, and I quote “Why would you put a nigger on your arm?” I rolled down my shirt sleeve and said “Do they still make people like you?”

They do. They were closer than I thought. She looked down on one of the greatest entertainers of our time. What had she done to feel superior? Sammy was missing an eye, she was missing her teeth.

My buddy George always warned any black singer I was recording with about going into Greenup. I told him that was his generation. If I was to walk into the local bars with a black friend I would have laid money that she would be greeted with nothing but kindness. Bullshit. George was right. She would be considered a spook, jungle bunny, nigger, because the pigment in her skin is darker than the yellow hue of the alcoholic at the end of the bar with pickled liver disease. Greenup, IL has a population of about thirty-five-hundred people in it. I used to believe that most people were naturally good people. Hell I used to believe that most of America was good.

I was dumbfounded by a friend who turns out doesn’t like my Girlfriend because she is 1/2 Chinese, a woman, gorgeous & smart. A woman who is unafraid of a misogynistic gun nut who wonders why he can’t get a date? Maybe it’s because you have narrowed it down to only white folks.Then mark out anyone outside of the Cumberland Co. area. Then funnel the ones out who have progressive ideas, then funnel the ones out who will put up with me Tarzan you Jane attitude. Prick.

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A close friend, loving, sweet, bad-ass, highly educated, model, and I won’t bring her to my local bar for fear of someone embarrassing me in front of my friend. Sucks being a racist. I think she’s single.

I saw a large group of people who sleep like babies, go to church, and somehow can overlook admitted sexual assault, hate, bigotry, removing women’s rights, fear of Blacks and Latinos. Scared of the Muslim religion. Somehow thinking that the migrant workers picking the veggies that they buy at Walmart for pennies are ruining America as they drive through a boarded up downtown business district because they didn’t support the local businesses.

Ever wonder why you get these products so cheap? The people you look down on make them, pick them, and load them on the trucks. If you are dying for the chance to take those jobs for America, I bet they would put you on. You could get a job picking strawberries anytime.

If these minorities have it so great, I ask you; would you trade places with them? No. Their work is too hard and a dollar an hour plus twenty-five cents a basket doesn’t lend itself to weekend trips to Branson.

I have watched interviews about the Presidential Election from both sides. I get it. You care about the economy, about your health care, about your jobs.Understandable, but you also sold out a lot of people in the process.

You bought an absurd idea that a giant wall is going to built around the southern border of the US. Fear, mistrust, self imposed ignorance and lies. My question is; how can you as members of the human race overlook, admitted sexual assault against women, race baiting, anti-intellectualism, fear mongering and hatred? Our President ran on that platform.

Does anyone remember the outrage of a Muslim man making his wife wear a burka? Trump will put a Supreme Court Judge in place and he will figuratively and literally have his hand on your pussy, and there is nothing you can do about it.

If the voting record shows us anything, 50% didn’t care enough to vote; about 25% voted pro sexual predator. Fuck you. You are disgusting. I won’t forgive Brock Turner and I won’t forgive sexual assault from anyone. I have no idea how it has been justified. But it was.

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Brock Turner. Rapist, elite, and ready for Congress. Brock tells it like it is.

Most Presidents have a 100 day plan. Ideas they want done quickly. For the most part we nod our head and say “Yeah! This is the stuff that didn’t get done the last time! (Not always a reflection on the previous President) This will help and makes us a stronger, better country for it.”  Not that we all agree, but we all agree that we want what is best. So we hope the policies are put in place.

These policies are based on hate and xenophobia. I in no way shape or form want a single one of Trump’s policies to pass. We have stepped back. Women will be fighting again for the rights they once had.

Our Vice-President has put laws in place in his state to discriminate against gays based upon which God you pray to. I’m an atheist; I wouldn’t serve any of you mother fuckers.

He is a climate change denier, and believes the Earth is 6000 years old. This makes him a 6th grade Earth Science Textbook denier as well.3528781_s1_i3

I root for the home team and honestly hope that I will eat crow and swallow my words as Trump finds out a way to give us world peace, stop starvation and cures cancer. I will carve his mug in Mount Rushmore with a spoon all by myself.

1964 Kitty Genovese was stabbed to death in New York City over a period of forty-five minutes.  Thirty-seven people heard her cries for help and some actually saw the stabbing and watched as Genovese crawled around the corner only to have her attacker return to finish the task of stabbing her to death. No one called the police and no one came to her aid. Apathy killed Kitty Genovese. The ability to block out the cries of a dying woman. It’s happening again only this time it’s the world that is being stabbed. We closed our windows and turned up the TV.

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1964 Kitty Genovese was stabbed to death in New York City over a period of forty-five minutes.

Sleep well but know when you get up tomorrow you have made someone else’s life harder than it was yesterday. Explain that shit to Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, explain it to your daughter. I don’t want to hear it. You have the mark of Cain in your underwear. All the Tide© in the world won’t remove this shit.

Apathy, hypocrisy, and heartlessness will destroy America, not an illegal immigrant.


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You can’t hold a job, and you have erectile dysfunction, and you beat your Wife!

I’ve become obsessed with Automata. It’s the art of engineering and making machines that move either by a motor or a hand crank. A Cuckoo Clock is Automata.  So is a toaster.

I have a macabre image of building a found art Automata of a circus freak show. My first project will be a man hammering a nail into his skull. Yep. I’m going to go through a huge learning curve of gears, ratios, cogs, and a lot of frustration to make a piece of art (shit) that I won’t tell my Shrink about.

My lady, Lisa has twin girls and a little boy all within a year apart; roughly the same ages, in fact two of them are exactly the same ages. She asked me last night “Why don’t you make something I’d let my kids look at?”

I said, “What? Like Santa?”

“Yeah”

67207a8d5c58ecee46f202ae5edf010cI could do that. I might do that. Make it an angel. My Mom collects angels and I’m broke so I have to give her homemade gifts (which are the best.)

But you know what would be cooler to make? A machine that makes a lady turn into a gorilla before your very eyes. Which would you rather see? Santa, or gorilla woman? I thought so.

I’m 100% American in loving to see someone suffer. We live for this as a nation. We are closet sadists in La-Z-Boy Recliners. Let’s flip on the tube and watch the new season of the Voice/American Idol/America’s Got Talent. It’s the new season and I want to see people who think they have talent be shamed in front of the world.

If I’ve heard it once I’ve heard it a million times. “You should be on American Idol”

Here is how AI works.

  • Open casting call. Come on down.
  • Wait in line for your turn to meet the first people who will judge you. Mainly on looks and some sort of hook, like single crack baby mother who found Jesus. Then you sing and they either blackball you for any number of reasons, talent being a very small part or move you on to the next judges…and on and on.
  • By the time you are standing in front of three has been Celebrities, they know your story, they know ahead of time if you suck. In fact, you have been passed on simply because you are suck! Earlier that day they have sent Aretha Franklin home because she’s too black and too fat.
  • If you succeed then they put you on a multi million dollar stage with the best equipment and the best band you’ll find. Then we sit and wait for your amateur voice to crack in front of the Nation, and tweet each other as we watch their dreams get crushed.

I like to see that kind of shit too. Cracks me up. The nastier the better.
I know this gal, well I don’t KNOW her but I know a lot about her. She was 22. She fell in love with her boss. Her boss was married. The wife didn’t know a thing about it.

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Judas being a prick.

Her ‘Friend’ set her up like the Judas she was. She claimed to be her friend but never was or ever intended to be. She gained her trust, talked about it on the phone nightly. Everything was spilled. She didn’t hold back while confiding in her friend.

The ‘Friend’ came out one day and explained proudly, how she had set this young girl up. She told everyone each and every sordid detail of the affair. She had records and recordings that she had made. Her friend RECORDED their heart to heart conversations to use against her.

The husband deserted her. Threw her under the bus. Claimed he didn’t know shit.
She was eventually to become the butt of every joke in town. And sixteen years later she’s being shamed again. For the sins of almost two decades ago when she was at an age where she couldn’t even rent a car. She’s in her freakin’ 40’s now! Only the petty wouldn’t drop it.  Like any old joke, it wasn’t that funny to begin with. If you don’t know who I’m talking about I’ll spill the entire beans at the end of the article.

I can’t throw stones. I’d be willing to bet neither can you. Have you been ,or do you currently know of a moral crime that would crush someone if they knew about it? Do you tell them as a  concerned citizen?. A friend, a spouse, a girlfriend or boyfriend, a boss, a co-worker. I’d also be willing to bet that we all have done something to be ashamed of. Most of it while we were young. Before we really knew any better.

There is a kid just north of me who raped a passed out girl behind a dumpster until two guys came along and stopped him. He was given a sentence of six months because the Judge felt like the boy had way too much going for him that he didn’t want to ruin this boy’s life by giving him 20 years. He got out in three months. The father had written a letter to the judge stating that the boy was so depressed he couldn’t even eat his steak. And he loves steak.

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Daddy’s Letter

That sentence and the Judge and Father’s re-victimization of this raped girl was nothing but the Justice System failing.

We love suffering. But not like this. I don’t know anyone who would ever even think “Well she was asking for it by over drinking, or the way she was dressed” That would be the most heartless thing you can say to this woman.

Of course she wasn’t asking for it! She was the victim of a horrible crime.

I don’t get political in these posts. I’m not going to right now. I have seen signs and memes for over a year that say something like “HILLARY SUCKS, BUT NOT AS MUCH AS MONICA!”

132firSo we are blaming Hillary for her husband’s infidelity now? Isn’t this re-victimizing the victim?

Vote how you want but show some empathy if you can’t muster up the class.

Monica Lewinsky did a TED talk (ugh) on shame.  She based it on the quote from Dr. Brene’ Brown. “Shame can’t survive empathy.”

20 years ago a girl fell in love with her boss and we feel like we have a right to never forgive. Hop on our high horse and gallop from the Oval Office to your living room. It’s just someone with blood, a heart,and a beret. It’s ok because we hid the many hats we wear everyday in the back of the closet. Some place where no one will see. After all it’s our business and we don’t want to become the butt of the joke.

But she’s a slut!

And you can’t hold a job, and you have erectile dysfunction, and you beat your wife, You like midget porn, you are a bully, you killed someone with your car, and you were arrested for shoplifting, you are a bad mother, You smoked pot in college, You lied to your boss,  You are on welfare, You are a heartless cold SON-OF-A-BITCH!

Print it on a T-shirt for all to see, but no fair mentioning anything else.Things like, I was a kid, I was stupid, I didn’t know any better, I didn’t know till it was too late, I don’t know what I was thinking, I chickened out, I was scared, I’m ashamed or I was a prick. Just the facts.

America loves blood and it seems like sometimes our thirst for it can’t quenched. Hooray for us.

 

Help a brother out and ‘Like’ and “Share” this piece of drivel.  Leave a comment. I’ll pretty much discuss anything. What I don’t know I’ll make up.

~A

Chicken Sh*t Bingo Parlor to Open In Carmel Valley

“The meanest thing God ever put on this Earth is an old woman with a shopping cart” L. Eagleson

Boy howdy. I’m driving a back road this morning and come to a one lane bridge, with another car about to cross on the other side. This is a test of character. A way to read a man’s true soul.

My home town of Greenup is built on the National Trail. A section of highway that isn’t as famous as Rt66. In fact it’s Highway 40. It’ll take you from Washington DC to Utah. There is a section of the old road called “Old 40” as opposed to the highway. It runs right next to the Fairgrounds and just as fast as taking 40.

We have a one lane bridge just past the Fairgrounds. It is Cumberland County’s Historic

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Covered Bridge. A true piece of Cumberland County history. I know! I remember when they built it in the 1990’s. Before that was a one lane cement bridge.  It blew up real good!

 

When two people met at the bridge, one had to pull off to the side signaling to the person across the bridge that you saw them and were letting them go first. After all if you were in a hurry you would take the interstate.

It would about come to blows over who allows who to go first. Two people sitting off to the side of the road waving at each other to go first. The words “Go asshole” behind each of their respective smiles. Finally after either an exaggerated wave that says “YOU MUST GO BECAUSE I’M NOT MOVING UNTIL YOU ACCEPT MY HOSPITALITY!” or after each person waves twice does one of them say “Okay…” and crosses. Then you wave politely to the person sitting on the side who in turn waves back. Good morning. I have done my good deed for the day.

Then you have the guy who doesn’t slow down because he wants to get his toilet paper and Copenhagen 15 seconds earlier. No one minds. You were going to give him the right of way anyhow. He just skipped the ceremony.  You wave a polite wave as he crosses. You are Brother’s in Arms when it comes to a one lane road. 99% of the time he will wave back.

Maybe this is a show of dominance, but it usually is some young kid with his sleeves cut off, a hat that advertises DeKalb fertilizer, and Steve Miller blasting in mono at full volume from a pick-up truck with a dog kennel in the back and a coffee can wired around6086bb645d38871e87a7e221878da284 the hole in his exhaust pipe. His folks taught him better. He’s a kid. Don’t cage him yet. The world will pound him into submission soon enough. Drive free boy! Turn that 88’ Silverado into wings and fly!

The guy this morning got to the one lane bridge down in Moneyville and took off across it. You really have to go slow over it. So I waved with my hand sitting on top of the steering wheel. The man looked right at me with a nonplussed  expression. Both hands still on the wheel. A snub.

This calls for inner-country boy to come out. So I waved REAL BIG! The kind of wave you do when you see an old friend across the street that you haven’t seen in years. Nothing…

This is a serious breach of protocol. I plan on getting up early tomorrow and waiting at the bridge. I’ll block it with my car sideways like the State Cops (CHiPS). Then I will run up and pull him out of his car, and I will wrestle him into submission using my non-existent MMA skills for giving me the virtual F*** YOU from yesterday.” With his head firmly between

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“Didn’t your Mama teach you any better???”

my crossed legs and his arm an inch from being broken because of my arm bar hold, I will teach him lessons I learned. Complete with local down home flavor.

 

Things like “That dog don’t hunt!” “Shit fire” & “Boy! You bit off more than you can chew.” Interspersed with various swear words and uncorroborated observations about his mother.

These are the things I’m holding onto.

  • “Somebody’s not stirring the Kool Aid” – Story does not add up
  • “I think you are telling me a western” – A lie
  • “Sum Bitch” A greeting or a sign of frustration or great amusement.
  • “Who is f***’n this chicken anyhow?” – I’d like to know who is in charge of this project? [edit] I mistakenly used an incorrect description. This actually is to be used as “I am in charge.” it is meant to end any discussion on a project.
  • “Sheeeeeeeiiiiiiittttttt! – means nothing, just a great way to break the ice.
  • “I’d rather have a Mother in the whorehouse than have a Republican as a Brother-In Law.” – I adamantly disagree with the Republican Party .
  • “It’s colder than a well digger’s ass” – The temperature outside is frigid.

I think I told my friend Lisa a whole story about a night out in High School without using a single intelligible phrase. About the time I got to the part where I was with Aaron as he was “cuttin’ cats asses” in the school yard; she stopped me.  I assured her no cats were harmed and it was simply Aaron and a scared shitless Sam doing donuts with his Mom’s station wagon in front of the school.

Yeah, I pronounce ‘tire’ as ‘tarr’ and ‘oil’ as ‘oral’ and if you have a hound with you I’ll probably tell you what a good lookin ‘dough-g’ ya got there. But I’m gonna wave you through a 4 way stop, or let you go over the bridge first (unless you are driving a little blue smart car of some sort)91-exl

I think I joined a band yesterday. My first California band. I’m in it with a guy from Maine and a dude from Oregon.

Maine cowboys. Great guys. It’s tear in your beer country but what the hell, I’m not looking for a date anyway.

-A.

I’m going to link Matt Poss’s song’ Three Bricks Shy’ here. He wrote it in college after explaining mushroom hunting to his roommates from Chicago. “What do you hunt them with? A knife?” Matt grew up 20 miles from me. This is home.

If you have a good country saying, post it in the comments below. Also Like and Share. How am I going to make a living if you don’t like and share???

I’m considering putting up a Chicken Shit Bingo parlor in Carmel Valley Village. Nothing says classy like having a permanent Chicken Shit Bingo cage in your establishment.

 

No Green Weenies

In 1982 Cumberland Unit #77’s High School student body collectively rioted and demanded action. Cumberland Unit #77, surrendered in two days.

Due to the efforts of the sadistic Lunch Ladies, a series of events caused the students to take drastic action. Utilizing every bit of know-how at their disposal, (A civics textbook) they fought the school’s establishment, armed with nothing but a Plat Map, the Student Handbook, and a poster board sign reading “NO GREEN WEENIES!”

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Cumberland Students march against the frequency and color of their weenies

These are the facts

  1. Students could not leave the school grounds for lunch.
  2. For one week the students were fed corn dogs each day.
  3. The next week they were given hot dogs that had a green tint to it.
  4. The students revolted…

I don’t know the complete story with names and dates, but I know how it went.

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “Energy may be likened to the bending of a crossbow; decision, to the releasing of a trigger.” 

It probably started out as a joke, then an idea, then a strategy. Hushed meetings in the library between Mrs. Ettlebrick’s piercing ‘SHhhh!” Someone says something to another student between classes. Notes are passed, rumors of a coup d’état have started.

The scheme was planned like the JFK Assassination. No one knows who put in the order, deniable plausibility. The entire student body knows their part. Everyone had to be in for the plot to work. Nerds, jocks, stoners and Prom Queens joined together in unity. There could be no dissention if the scheme were to be effective…

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.ript_samuraiwars

Each morning after attendance was taken in homeroom, the teacher would ask how many were eating school lunch. They would then send this number to the office and the kitchen workers would prepare food for at least that many students. The campus was closed so the students ate what they were given, brought their own lunch, or went hungry.

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” 
The morning of the conspiracy, each student in every class raised their hand. They were ALL eating in the cafeteria that day. The die had been cast. There was no turning back.

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Hands raised in the classroom. The Conspiracy has started

When the lunch bell rang, the Lunch Ladies, (as they became known) with their ladles, hair nets, and their cowboy cake, stood ready to shovel the daily swill onto virtually indentured students who had no choice but to take their mocking smiles as they shoveled mystery meat at them.

The Lunch Ladies waited, and waited, and waited… Not a single student ate their swill that day. They cursed the students, they screamed “FOUL!”, with cigarettes dangling from the corners of their mouths. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??? What will we do with all this swill?”

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What will we do with all this swill?

The students had drawn first blood. The teaching staff and Principal were in a panic. “These punks won’t strong arm us! WE are in control!

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “he who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious.” 

“You will not raise your hand during attendance if you are not eating” growled the Principal, teeth clinched veins bulging as his fist crushed the school intercom mic. “There will be hell to pay!” as he throws the mic against the wall.

The students stood steadfast as 350 green hot dogs went cold. There would be no ‘Cowboy Cake” that day.

Students were called in and interrogated. Parents were called. Detention was cancelled due to overcrowding. Reports of beatings, sleep deprivation, and threats about a “Permanent Record” were being thrown around. The due dates on essays of “Moby Dick” were moved up a week.

The students were prepared with water, nourishment and a stack of Cliff Notes for Moby Dick. They laid low and kept the momentum of their first victory to themselves. The war was far from over

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “You can ensure the safety of your defense if you only hold positions that cannot be attacked.”  bag

Part two of the battle plan involved the Plat Map and the civics book…probably.

While the students couldn’t picket on school property, they discovered that there was nothing the School could do if you stood along the highway on the opposite side of the road. It is owned by the state.

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.” 

“Who gives a damn about those ungrateful bastards? Who cares about a group of  kids holding a  poster board sign that said ‘NO GREEN WEENIES’?

WTHI TV Channel 10 out of Terre Haute Indiana. Serving the Wabash Valley with news and information; that’s who cared. photo

A masked spokesman for the group explained to the entire Wabash Valley about the school’s weenie policy. Terre Haute was outraged! Letters were written and phone calls were made. Politicians gave speeches. It was a turkey shoot. No one was left unscathed. War is hell. A lone child stepped forward and sang “99 Luft Ballons” tears fell and hugs were exchanged. The weenie word was out. The students could stand down.

Sun Tzu says in the Art of War “One need not destroy one’s enemy. One need only destroy his willingness to engage.”

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Victory!

Battled scarred and weary, Cumberland Unit #77 gave in to the student’s demands and nary a green weenie is seen in Cumberland County Illinois ever since. The Principal hung his head in disgrace. He later left teaching altogether to join the carnival. He runs that machine where you spray the water in the clown’s mouth.

The lunch Ladies simply disappeared. It’s rumored they are buried under the 50 Yard Line at the field where the Fighting Pirates played football.

And there isn’t even a fuckin’ plaque.

*The events are true even if I have taken liberty by filling in the blanks. 

On a side note, I graduated from Cumberland and the Kitchen Staff, Administration, and Teachers were always wonderful. Forgive me if I have put you in a bad light.


Dedicated to

Ciara Jade Faires

  In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond

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