I haven’t ranted on anything of value lately, but the news on that flat-screen thing is driving me to something, and I don’t thinks it’s good.
Classified files at Trump’s art deco digs, Biden’s Deleware home, and now they think at his beach house and his “so called” private office. Now we have ex-VP Pence with papers at his house. To be fair, is anyone looking at Hillary’s, Obama’s, and Bush’s? Hell, my house could be next. The witch trials are on, and the minions are building the log fire and cross. Someone is going to burn for this one. Who will it be? Perhaps all of the above if justice is blind, which we know it is not.
I walk with a cane now. It’s not a fancy one like a proper southern gentleman would possess; it’s a shiny aluminum job from the Walmart. I used a few beautiful wooden canes that belonged to my wife’s late father, but I broke one and severely injured another. She has one left, and I won’t touch it since it’s an heirloom.
Since my back operation in August caused the drop foot and the unruly right leg, the cane is my savior. I’ve found it helpful on my shopping trips to H.E.B. with my wife. I’m not allowed to go on my own since I can’t drive with a bum foot, and she doesn’t believe me when I tell her that my cane acts as a good pusher for the accelerator. So, we go as a team. With my gimp foot and leg, I clumsily push the cart, and she grabs the stuff and fills the cart. I am also there as a moderator, keeping her from purchasing too many expensive goodies. Beef is $ 15.00 per pound, and Chicken is $16.00 per pound, so we eat pork or no meat at all. She slipped some New York steaks in the basket last week; hid them under some other items. I’m slipping.
Back to the cane, it’s also useful as a weapon. Any unruly shopper that bumps into me, or my cart, gets a whack from my righteous staff, with me yelling, ” I’m walking here,” the cane, and seeing I am a half-assed invalid, adds to the drama, which usually scares the poor offender into retreat. My poor wife has nothing to say; it would do no good anyway.
“I yam, what I yam,” as Popeye would say.
Notes From The Cactus Patch 
Ah, yes … I remember the cane. I’ve never used one, but I remember getting whacked by one belonging to my great-great grandfather when I was around 9 or 10. He was a civil war veteran, a drummer boy, or something from a New York regiment. There was nothing civil about that old goat. I can tell you this, too. When everyone said, “Oh, don’t mind him. He ain’t right in the head,” I didn’t much care what his problem was. But he taught me to stay out of his reach. And I did. When I learned he’d died, it felt like I was wearing a brand-new pair of Buster Brown shoes. Will Smith would probably say I was getting giggywidit. Now honestly, I don’t know what that means, but I was glad that mean old man was history.
So let’s see … around 1953 and they’d just recently fried the Rosenbergs for having classified material in the trunk of their corvette. How times do change. We must have been so politically correct back then. Sure glad we all woke up, eh?
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Yep, we’ve come a long way from the Rosenburgs to the Bidens. I was once a student of political history in high school. Bsck then it was JFK and then at the end, LBJ, that rotten lying bastard. He was not a favorite son of Texas. I woke up around 1970, about the same time my father and mother, both Roosevlet Democrats saw the angel decent from above and annoited them Republicans. I must have caught some of the angel dust because I was transformed overnight. Sure, I was 1 A in the 1968 draft, and promised my frantic mother that if drafted, I would join the Navy. I was never drafted,, so she was able to sleep at night. I also wore Buster Brown shoes purchased from the Red Goose Shoe Store in downtown Fort Worth, Texas, across from Leonard Brothers Department Store. My mom always brought them a size to big to accommodate my growing spurts, and it usually worked out well. I mostly lived in PF Flyer high top tennie shoes with the round rubber stamps on the inside of the ankles. they were good for a good 5 mph in a sprint from a BB gun war or a dirt clod attack. I am weary of politics and the so-called conservative hacks that have our backs. Carpetbaggers comes to mind, as well as insider trading crooks. Jim Jordan and the rest are as evil as Pelosi and her tribes. Pardon the rant away from your subject. I took a Valium an hour ago and am not responsible for what I say.
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Feel better?
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Much so. Thank you for caring.
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My grandmother was in her 80s…so you are too young to get by with this. We were behind someone in line at a grocery store. She looked at me and smiled…I thought what the hell? She proceeded to ram the cart into the guy in front of us. He turned around like he was going to kill someone but then saw a 4′ 9″ 85 year old woman and sheepishly turned away. She turned around to me again and had the biggest smile…I miss that old woman.
Yea I can see where that cane would come into play in todays world.
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I see it as a righthous staff from the heavens. These young’uns have no respect for the old, so when we confront them with our anger, they have no where to go but hide. It’s kinda nice.
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I commented but is vanished! Hope you feel better Phil.
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Thanks Max. What is with WP and vanishing post? This is becoming a problem, almost as bad as Facebook. I am feeling better and on the mend, so to speak. Still a half-baked cripple, but surgery next week is rumored to fix the problem, then I can ditch the cane and the old man attitude. By the way, your music post are getting better every day. A joy to read.
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Oh geez Phil another surgery… hopefully it will fix the problem.
Thank you Phil I appreciate it… and take it easy.
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Got it Max. Yep, looking forward to having my right leg cut from the knee to the ankle and nerves, tendons, and everything in between moved around and manipulated. I’ll post some NSFW pictures of the entire ordeal. Thanks for the good wishes.
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Your writings are always so clever and humorous. Do you ever do anything with your music interest these days?
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Not since 2019 when our band The American Classics decided to call it a day. We had played together for 20 years, the same four of us and age had started robbing us of our talent, so we called it quits. Latley, I have been playing my acoustic at times, but I am shocked at how much I forgot in a period of 4 years. It’s an eye opener for certain.
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When I was wheelchaired out of a hospitable in August 2021, I used my metal, telescoping walking stick.For a couple if months I drove those HEB electric handicap carts. By late November the walking stick helped me navigate a Scottsdale casino John Fogeety concert, a desert museum 1.8 mile trail, and a 3 night-4 day trek through Vegas casinos. It was mind over matter. I look back & am thankful to be ok. I hope the best as you endure another surgery.
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Well, that was one heck of a trek for a fellow using a cane. I was in HEB a few days ago and considered using one of their scooters. A switch on the back can be flipped, so the little beast goes a bit faster. I had visions of flying down the aisles, but my wife said, “no way are you getting on that thing.” Speaking of Fogerty, I read he recently obtained all the publishing rights to his song catalog, which he lost years ago in a battle with his record company. Good for him. This surgery should take care of the drop foot and obstinate leg. The jury is still out on smacking down my back surgeon for causing this mess. My sister has my fathers old wheelchair if I need one, but I’m not sure I could bring myself to use it; too many sad memories. Take care, Jack.
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Well, you are in our thoughts and prayers. Always good to hear from you. Thank you.
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