The Supreme Court, also affectionately known as “The Supremes,” has a “number one hit” with their upholding of the second amendment, which is part of our constitution. Six judges voted to uphold and three voted against, which means they are against upholding the constitution, the main document they are supposed to protect and follow. It will be illuminating to see how the court acts on other issues coming next week. I’m anticipating Diana Ross throwing a hissy-fit.
The liberal and radical left will naturally set social media on fire and organize protests peppered with violence. What a glorious sight it will be to see hundreds of little college-educated snowflakes running down the street with their hair ablaze. I can’t wait.
“The Biden White House is telling the peasants to purchase a $60,000+ electric vehicle and stop complaining about $5+ a gallon gas.” This comes from Karine Jean-Pierre, the young, highly educated, and perfect black-lesbian-immigrant-press secretary. For a change, she had to answer some tough questions from the reporters and folded like a cheap Walmart lawn chair. Her usual response to anything of substance is; “gaze upon my black lesbian perfection, I am an African goddess.” Yes, she might be all of those, but she is also a total moron. Infrastructure to support electric vehicles is still two to three decades away.
Did anyone notice good ole’ Lester Holt on NBC news last night? He was interviewing someone and he used the term “circle back” with the guest. Come on Lester, you are better than that.
A few nights ago, I thought about “Father’s Day.” I often wake in the wee hours, which is my most fruitful time to contemplate the state of the world. Things include forgetting to water my veggie garden or putting the trash bin out for collection. The small items require as much thought as the big ones.
The restaurants will be packed to the limit this coming Sunday, and Bass Pro Shop and Amazon will work overtime until Saturday night. But, of course, it wasn’t always this way.
Like Mother’s Day, it wasn’t an official government-sanctioned holiday until the 70s, although the American public has recognized the special day since 1910.
It gained ground during the Second World War because the retailers figured out how to make a few extra bucks by plucking our heartstrings with schmaltzy advertising. As a result, Hallmark has sold Billions of cards, and American retailers continue to milk this golden cash cow dry.
Around our house in the 1950s, “Father’s Day” wasn’t considered an extravaganza. My Dad mowed the yard or made repairs on our home, Mom made him a special meatloaf with cornbread, and my sister and I gave him our homemade construction paper cards. Sometimes, he received a gift, but not often. One year, Mom purchased a fancy fishing lure for us to give him. Large, shiny treble hooks and feathers would make any fish want a bite. Another year, a nice shirt and a pair of fishing sneakers. He never expected much because money was always tight, and folks of his generation weren’t wired like they are now.
I gave my Dad a Garcia saltwater fishing reel for ” Father’s Day.” 1969. Captain Rick Corn, who owned the Sports Center in Port Aransas, gave me a “poor boy’s” deal, or I could have never afforded such a gift. It was a beautiful bright red and chrome reel nestled into a padded black leather case. Unfortunately, it was too pretty to use. The saltwater would tarnish the colors and the shining chrome within a few weeks. Then, it would be like our other working reels.
For years to come, during our fishing trips into the Gulf, I noticed he never put the reel on a pole. He said it would be a shame to lose it overboard like we had a few others when a 40lb King Fish hits our bait at light speed, and the rod escapes the holder and goes flying into the water. He kept it locked in the storage closet of our family beach house. So, I forgot about the reel for many years.
My father passed away in 1996. So when my sister and I sold the beach house in 2001, I ran across the reel in the storage closet; it had never been on a pole. It was as shining and beautiful as the day I gave it to him.
Years ago, I passed the reel on to my youngest son, Wes. He knows the family story behind the reel.
He and his family live on South Padre Island, just a short drive from Port Aransas. His home is on a canal that leads to the Gulf. His Blue Wave fishing boat moored to the dock behind his house. I have not seen the reel on his rods yet, so I will assume he treasures the 52-year-old reel as my father did by not risking its loss in the Gulf. One day, he may pass it on to my grandson, and perhaps he will catch a record-breaking Kingfish with that reel.
“If a Republican Senator or lawmaker had attacked a liberal Justice like Sotomayor or Kagan or Jackson, declared without ambiguity that ‘they will pay the price,’ it is virtually guaranteed you would see wall-to-wall coverage if an attempt was made on their lives,” he said, referring to Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer’s, D-N.Y., comments in 2020 about conservative justices, including Kavanaugh.” Taken from the New York Post.
It’s disturbing that the national news media outlets gave zero coverage to the attempt on Supreme Court Judge Kavanaugh’s life. True, the young man did not fire a shot or get into the house, but it was an attempt. When did one political party assume total control of the information on television, newspapers, and the internet? A guess would be in the early 2000s. Peter Jennings and a few other tv talking heads from back in the 90s, although liberal, attempted to give us the facts and the truth. I had high hopes for Lester Holt, but he caved in record time and fell into step. Who can blame the man? The networks pay these teleprompter readers extravagant salaries that have no base in reality. It’s a job, and they don’t write their own script.
Our Supreme Court judges are our most sacred cows deserving to be protected no matter the party affiliation of the president that appointed them. Not a concerned or denounced word from President Biden, Nancy Pelosi, Chuck Schumer, or others of their ilk. So, does that make them complicit in the attempt? First, it would be a yes, but maybe they are afraid to speak out against their radical base. They could be next in line. Silence can be golden, but it can be deafening and damning in the newsroom.
I’ve seen much in my 73 years, but I must confess that 2021 and 2022 may win the golden calf or at least a plaster Saint for your garden. History denotes the effectiveness of presidents, starting with General George Washington. Up until Carter, Buchanan, and maybe Hoover was considered the losers of Washington. Jimmy and Rosiland Carter can rest easy now; our current president has taken the flaming torch and is leading a parade down Pennsylvania Avenue. He thinks he is going to light the Olympic flame. Please, Jill, take him home.
Maureen and I don’t take many trips nowadays. We did manage a family gathering in Fredricksburg, Texas, back in May for Maureen’s 70th, but that was before the gas prices went south. Galveston was on our agenda for July, but with the cost of fuel, hotels, and food, we will be sticking close to home. Maybe a short day trip and a good meal will suffice. The days of long hauls in our trusty Honda may be over for a while. I believe the Gulf of Mexico and Guido’s shrimp baskets will be there next year.
The tomato harvest is upon us. The backyard garden is fruitful this year. Small, medium and Godzilla-size orbs are ripening within a day. It’s either my taste buds or on the fritz, or the tomatoes this year lack flavor. The Squash bit the dust early on due to a disease or bugs. I blame it on the hot, dry spring and, of course, the economy.
Notes From The Cactus Patch 