And the Attacks Begin

First, the media touts New Jersey governor Christie as the most electable of Republicans likely to seek the GOP nomination and then they dig up a scandal. The details, however, are strikingly familiar. Aides are found to have written emails which do not implicate Christie, Christie claims no knowledge but vows to get to the bottom of the problem. The media, smelling political blood in the water, engage in a feeding frenzy.

Fast and Furious
Benghazi
The Obamacare website rollout
NSA spying
IRS targeting of conservative groups
(There are more, these are the ones that came quickly to mind)

Obama knew nothing of these until he read of them in the newspaper. But these are "phony scandals" and there is no media frenzy.

But a traffic jam in New Jersey? Oh the horror! The inhumanity! How can we ever cope?

A Note From Heaven (or Wherever)

I have been made aware of a new website which provides a service that might be of interest.  None of us, it seems, ever tell our loved ones the things we want to, or should. I know I was guilty of this with my father. Of course, he was a grouchy, irascible crank and was about as close-mouthed as a man could be so I have plenty of excuses. Still, I managed to tell him a little of what he meant to me about 10 years before he died.

Every compliment from him, I got second-hand. Either through my grandmother or my mother. Either, or both, of whom might have lied to make me feel good. Yeah, I have self-esteem issues.

Still, I am sure you have things you want to pass on to your children; things you've never told them... your dreams, your hopes, your pride in them.

I am not endorsing this site, nor am I suggesting you sign up, I just offer it as a consideration if the idea suits you.

Here's the site:

www.HeartWriting.com


You might even just leave a note saying "I told you so!"

Unburnt Offerings...

On Tuesday, I did my normal Tuesday things: refill my gas tank (this is actually done about every 5th Tuesday or so) and visit our local Wal-Mart. The Wal-Mart visit is problematic at this time of year. The parking lot is filled with vehicles with license plates from states where cold is not as rare as it is here. And these vehicles carry people who appear to think that the mid-50's is plenty mild and should be celebrated by showing off  their bony knees (many with the scars of knee replacement surgery). It is neither a pretty, nor an encouraging, sight.

I, of course, was bundled up in my heaviest jacket and a sweatshirt and sporting what I like to call my "big boy pants." My new little car nimbly fitting into the seemingly excessively narrow parking slot, I wandered (without injury) to the entrance where I played "shopping cart roulette"... managing to find one of the 80% of carts which have at least one faulty wheel. How does that happen, I muse?

Why are so many carts defective? It is impossible to test a cart since the area where the carts are stored has what I can only describe as "uneven" flooring. I often grab a cart on the way in from the parking lot so I can see how it rolls on a nominally smooth surface. As those who hate ornery carts know, this is not a foolproof method but it does boost the odds of getting one that doesn't emit clunking noises or veer strongly one way or the other.

I chose "pot luck" on Tuesday and was rewarded with a "clunker", trundling up the aisles with that distinct "clunk-clunk-clunk" offending my auditory sense. I sought yesterday to find something; a few small items, one of which was septic treatment. Those of you who have never had the "pleasure" of septic tank ownership may not understand this but it is the equivalent of pouring new lime into the pit below the outhouse. As I trundled ("clunk-clunk-clunking" all the while), objects kept appearing in my cart: golf balls, cold medicine, orange juice, 24 pack of water (and what, pray tell, is wrong with what the city pushes through its pipes?), the large bag of Twizzlers, gelatin packages, nuke-able lunches, toilet paper (with aloe, mind you), and several other items I didn't know I needed or wanted.

I tell Faye not to allow me to go into a Wal-Mart with a credit card but she doesn't listen... she is, after all, a wife, and I am merely background noise in the house.


My, I do go on...

Very Interesting...

I like to keep an eye on what readers gravitate toward. I use the Feedjit information to do this. I suspect I am not alone since I will see at least a couple of visitors look at the same posts.

One of the more popular posts seems to be this one. Its title doesn't seem all that intriguing to me but what do I know? The other one which seems to garner a lot of attention is a story about a PICC line. Why these two are interesting, I have no idea, but they seem to show up fairly often. Most of the posts that draw people have pictures but these two do not.

One never knows...

Round Tuits

Readers might have noticed that I have been a bit unreliable of late. Faye has always considered me such but she knows me better. My excuse today is simple... it's freakin' cold! So it took me awhile to get out of my warm, cozy bed.
It is not cold like many of you know but cold as only south Floridians can conceive. It is, as I write, still under 40 degrees F. And windy. I do not quite grasp this but it is never simply cold in Florida, it is cold and windy. And the wind cuts through you like a swarm of razor blades with an attitude.  Still, there are days where you venture out all bundled up and later wish you had worn a pair of shorts and T-shirt under it all. Today is not supposed to be one of those days. Today belongs further north. Much further north. Like Maine, or Minnesota.

The older I get, the less I like the cold. Or much of anything else.