Well boys and girls, fall is here again, and the leaves are falling from the trees, along with so many political nuts. The silly season is in full swing for the negative campaign ads, and we are filling the airwaves and littering the landscape like road apples after a circus parade. The only difference is that the circus has folks following the elephants and donkeys to clean up all the mess. When the elections are over so is all the glad-handing, and “We the people” get left holding the mess.

I think the term “negative campaign ad” is somewhat redundant, I don’t ever recall seeing a “positive ” campaign ad- do you? What I want to know is this: Why can’t politicians stand on their own merits, and tell us honestly what they plan to do once elected? Why must all of them live and dwell in the past? Just once I’d like to see someone run an entire campaign focusing on real goals, and the issues, not pointing out the faults of his/her opponent. It saddens me that not one single politician can prove his merit without demeaning his opponent.

I think the majority of voters today are smarter than the political elite give them credit to be, and it will only be a matter of time before they are held to their election speech promises. This country is in a bad way, solely because of the people running the government with single-minded ideals; ones that cannot, and will not look beyond a party line, and do what is good for all of the people. Social security is being robbed to pay for other things, medicare is broken for the same reasons, and healthcare is a huge mess. But one thing is for sure- sharing the wealth isn’t going to fix it- you can’t take something from people who have worked their entire lives, and just give it to people who have never done anything to help themselves.

Yes, healthcare is a mess, but those waiting for some miracle fix from Uncle Sam need to remember this: Those same people are in charge of the Post office(going broke), the IRS(glorified bandits), and the DMV(just try to get in and out without a hassle- they even closed the drive-up window so they can charge you five extra dollars just for walking in)

Vote carefully- your life depends on it. And don’t look at me, I haven’t found a candidate worthy of my vote yet..

  Well, Fall is in the air, and it’s once again County Fair time. I love the rides, the food, the games, and the atmosphere,  and last night couldn’t have been a more perfect opening night.

  A carnival is a wonderful experience when you have a small child, and with my little one being 3 and a half, it is the perfect time. As soon as we rounded the bend and the midway lights came into view, she began dancing about wildly in her car seat, eyeing the giant Ferris wheel first of all.  Shaking with anticipation, squealing in delight, and sometimes forgetting to breath, her head darted from side to side with her bright blue eyes wide open, not missing a thing. This was not her first fair, but I think it will be the first that she remembers; somewhat put off by the crowds, noises and lights last time, she became fully immersed with the whole affair this year.

  We watched the demolition derby first, which brought cackles and howls as the cars crashed and spun wildly in the dirt before us. Moving along to the animals brought mixed emotions, she wasn’t to sure about the rather large longhorn steer, but the smaller, petable animals delighted her. Although she was somewhat put off by the smell in the tent. Entering the midway one finds the food, games, and craft exhibits first, but as we left the animal tent and rounded the bend, all of the rides came into full view.  She once again became overwhelmed, with the sounds, lights, and screaming ride goers, on each side of her. She sat, somewhat mesmerized in her stroller, taking it all in,  and then  began laughing wildly, and pointing at all the silly people on the rides. I will purchase an unlimited ride band, and we normally buy individual ride coupons for her, not knowing what she will actually ride. She has been known to be a little wishy-washy, and decide not to ride soon after being strapped in or as a carny tries to help her into a ride. But this year she began pointing out things she wanted to do very emphatically, so, we reluctantly purchased her a ride band, thinking it was going to be a waste.

  Now the proud owner of a bright orange armband like Daddy’s, she was off to “do stuff”, and ride the rides. Several trips through the fun house later, and at least 15 trips down the giant slide, we began to realise that we may get our moneys worth after all. This years fair had a very good selection of grown-up rides, as well as a large number of kiddie ones. We danced from ride to next, with her running straight to the “go-nogo” yardstick outside of each ride.  There were several that she didn’t quite reach, and couldn’t ride alone, so one of the adults was conned into cramming themselves into a ladybug, or some other creature and looking utterly foolish, for the sake of a child. Most of the rides she was able to ride alone, and sat proudly waving as she passed each time, beaming from ear to ear.  Exiting one ride, she thanked the ride operator, and exclaimed “I’m big, I can ride by myself now,” strutting down the exit ramp like a peacock.  Taking particular fancy to a dumptruck ride, she asked the lady if she could ride again, and with it being rather slow at the time, she told her she could ride as long as she wanted. So, the old folks took a much needed break, and rode the bench beside the ride as she happily delivered sand and gravel all over her imaginary town, blowing and waving madly with each circuit of the ride. It went on like that most of the night, with her working the carnies for all she was worth; “please, I don’t want to go, can I ride again?” So, on most rides, she just remained seated, and took another turn. There is something magical about that child, evoking smiles from even the most hardened of ride attendants, and melting them like putty in her hands. I think she is going a long way in this world, possibly even making a great politician one day.

 We arrived early, around five-thirty, figuring to spend a few hours, but when the little one began riding everything in sight, time somehow ceased to exist.  It was now well past midnight, we had a stroller full of plundered loot, and our bellies full on midway goodies. Mary was excited enough, but also starting to show some wear, so we made our way to the front gate, preparing to call it a night.  She protested a little, “let me ride the dinosaur one more time… please..”, but she was too worn out to put up any real fight.

Worn completely out, she was asleep in her carseat clutching a stuffed animal she “won” herself, for five bucks, long before we loaded the van and left the parking lot.

With Mary asleep in the back, Recie and I just held hands and smiled at each other, nothing else needed to be said.

I am a lucky man.

  It seems that word may have leaked to Miz Karma Izza Bytch that I was going to court loaded for bear. There has been a stunning turn of events, she is trying to reconcile with her sister and have the charges dropped, and the case dismissed. Some of the others on the road were also subpoenad, and were as displeased as I was about having to get involved in someone else’s family dispute. When she found out that her sister was going to call everyone that Bytch had ever had words with(everyone on the road), she quickly began to back down, and recant the events. Her sister also is not one of the easiest people to get along with, and has decided that court may not be the best place to start airing dirty laundry, so maybe it will play out that none of us have to go.

  Well, maybe not so instant.

  I’ve always believed in Karma, or at least what comes around goes around. People will, at some point , get what they deserve. It may take a while, but it’ll get them.

Case in point:

Several years ago a new neighbor moved into the area. It is a short, private road in the county that dead ends and only has a few houses. I lived there for a number of years before buying a house up on the main road, but still in sight of the old house. My parents reside there now,  my shop sits on land behind my parents, and adjacent to the rental house we have. The place was purchased because of the large shop, and for the income the rental house would bring. I moved there in 1987 or so, and have been working on cars there either full time, or after work every since. I do mechanical repairs, and also some restorations, which involves painting and body work. I have done work on every one of my neighbors cars, trucks, motorcycles, atvs, boats, and many farm implements. I love to tinker, and enjoy fixing things, helping my friends at the same time. The shop sits far back in a corner, at the edge of the woods, my parents, and the rental house are the closest dwellings, all the others are a good ways away. I dont work much on weekends, and never late at night, so noise, or smells and the like have never been a concern. Besides, I do work on everything down there, much of it pro bono, or very cheap,  so no one has ever complained. It is a small, close-knit community, we do stews, cookouts, atv rides,  and camp together; in all, a real nice place to be.

  That is until the aforementioned new neighbor moved in and tried to take over. Everyone down there has kids, and with it being a private road(one that I had paved, and paid for a large portion of), they all ride go-carts, golf carts, or atvs up and down the road and all over the farm. She took it upon herself to have signs made proclaiming it a private road, and started placing “No Trespassing” signs EVERYWHERE. She began to involve herself in everyone’s life, and then would interject opinions on how the kids were being raised, what they could do to make the yard look better, you name it, she got involved in it. My oldest daughter, and her best friend(a girl just a tad older), had both been born, and raised down there, growing up with multiple sets of adopted mothers and grannies overseeing their young lives. Someone always knew where the kids were, and were watching out for them, every house had an open door and welcomed the children gladly.

  For some reason, Bytch, as she shall be henceforth known as, began to fixate on the girls. With two very young sons of her own, I don’t see how she managed, but she did. By this time both girls are into their teens, and went about things on their own pretty well down on the farm. Not to say they weren’t supervised, but they weren’t toddlers anymore. Bytch took to making things up, and telling tales on both girls. My daughter and her friend came rushing into the shop one afternoon in tears because Bytch had confronted them, making accusations about an incident that neither of them were involved in. I let that go, and told both of them to stay away from her until I could talk to her about it. Things went fine for a week or so, and then another issue  popped up, she confronted my daughters friend, telling her that her Dad was dealing drugs, because of all the cars that came and went, and her mother was seeing a (gasp) black man when her daddy was at work. None of which was true.

 I had words with Bytch several times over idiotic stuff, and I passed it off as such. She had called me some unsavory names, but I considered the source. She badmouthed me to all the neighbors, but they knew me, and the truth, and dismissed it, most of them telling me what she had said. It was cool, she badmouthed everyone else to me, so we all knew she was nuts. But, when you mess with kids, you have committed the cardinal sin, in my book. So, I went over to confront her about the kids, and why all of them were afraid of her, and why none of them would play with her sons.  She saw me coming up the walk, grabbed her broomstick, flew off the porch, circled the yard cackling ,with her flying monkeys in tow and met me halfway. Turns out, Bytch was fluent in sailor speak, I don’t ever remember being cursed as loudly, or as badly as she did. Much less by a woman.

  We yelled and screamed, she took a swing at me, I ducked it, and drew back like I was going to return the favor(I wouldn’t have under any circumstances), and she ran off threatening to call the police.  Her husband got involved, and seemed to understand my frustration, promising to calm her down and make her leave me and everyone else alone.

It aint over.

  Less than a week later I had visitors at my garage; she called the EPA,  OSHA, the health dept, the county zoning commisioner, the IRS, the state tax office, AND social services.  She stated that I was:

Dumping oil and chemicals onto the ground

dumping paint out onto the ground

painting “8 or 10″ cars a week and polluting the air

working all hours of the night, making “obscene” amounts of noise.

the shop was a health and safety hazard to her young sons

I was “abusing and mistreating my daughter, and possibly the poor little girl down the street.”

  This, ladies and gentlemen, is a seriously sick woman, and a pathological liar.

My oil and fluids are collected and recycled properly, all fluids in clearly marked containers. My paint is sprayed on cars with an HVLP gun, meaning very little overspray. Urethane paint hardens shortly after being mixed, in four hours it turns into a hockey puck, nothing to pour out. My paint room is sealed, and what little fumes there are, get ducted out through a filter. I have the required permits, and tax I.D. numbers to run such a business. In short, I’m clean, and legal. Anyone that knows me, also knows how I feel about children, and their well-being, so the abuse accusations are a no-brain-er.

Karma- finally, you say.

Bytch is involved in an altercation, one that involves the court system, and an assault charge. Guess what? I was a witness to it, and have been subpoenaed  to testify. They also want to show that she has a pattern of violence, and conflicts with others. All of the lies she told about me, and the harassment will more than likely be admissible according to the attorney representing the complainant. I still have the papers from all of the investigating agencies, with her name on them. Got my subpoena today, court is next month.

Hooray for Karma, and all I’m going to is tell the truth. I’m glad I didn’t smack her in the face when the urge struck.

My friend Corina posted a writing challenge that got my juices flowing, so here it is.

She came across a freecycle ad for a dress and suggested we write a short story around it.

 “I am giving away my wedding dress. It is a size 3 or 5. I couldn’t find a size tag on it. It has beading and pearls on it and is long sleeved. It has a long train. It is white and is a very beautiful dress. I has some dirty aras on the bottom of the train but will probably come out at the dry cleaners. I’ve had it in a Rubbermaid box for near 10 years. It was hanging up for a couple of years before that. It was hanging on foam hangers and the foam started to fall apart and so there are pieces on the dress. Everyting should be fine with a trip to the dry cleaners. I would like this gone today, please.　Your inbox contains 255 messages. Are you sure you want to delete them?

Nothing really sunk in, the fact that she was gone, until I switched on her computer and the replies to her last ad popped up. Once, we were happy, and then something happened in her head, something no one foresaw, or could control. Not even her. I still loved her madly, even as the voices and the demons drove her away, into some dark place. There were times when the light came back, and she was once again mine, but they faded quickly into a nightmarish hell..It took more and more pills to ease her pain for a few moments at a time, but now the voices are silenced, and she sleeps a peaceful sleep. I will keep the dress, as it is, I cannot bear the thought of another wearing it.

yes.

 I may have ran into some small setbacks in my quest for the cabinet positions.

  It would seem that the suited dudes that talk into their lapels frown on unannounced visitation at the house. They do not take kindly when folks pull up in the driveway and blow the horn. It is a southern tradition to announce ones presence with a loud trumpet on the horn, and then to yell “hey, anybody home?”

  They were also very rude, as I got out of the truck, one of them tackled me, knocking the large box from my hands. Imagine that, a perfectly good cornbread, wasted, all over the driveway. I was only trying to be polite, and bring a gift.

You would think them guys had never seen a hunting rifle either, they swarmed all over the truck trying to get to my .243 hanging in the rear window. It’s not even my best gun.

  For some reason, the lapel talkers got real ugly when one of them went snooping in the back of my truck. I had to run by the feed store and pick up some stuff, so naturally I had some fertilizer for the maters, and some diesel fuel for the tractor. I always thought Washington was full of cow shit, but apparently they were running low, as they took mine.

Oh, and the jug of uncle Earle’s homemade brandy.

 I would like to publically state that all of my taxes, income and property, are all current. I have also never had in  my employ any house servants or gardeners of questionable citizenship, so no international scandals or payroll issues either.

  I have had some minor skirmishes with the law, but they were years ago, and have been settled. I did smoke some pot, inhaling of course, but that, and most of my other indiscretions have been freely admitted and a matter of public record.

  That said- it appears that some of Mr  Obama’s nominees are backing off because they are skeered. Well, I aint skeered, and if he happens to have any positions open, I believe I could fill in. I am therefore accepting any cabinet positions available.

 I’m a good shot- Head of security would be cool- I can save the taxpayers some cash and supply my own guns.

I’m a really good driver, I could drive the armored car- I just aint wearing one those silly chauffeur hats.

I could be the the tax dude, I’ve been paying them for nearly thirty years, I’m certain I could collect them for a while.

If nothing else, I could be the token white dude, you know, to balance things out.

Anybody got his address so I can send my resume?

Maybe I should apply in person, just walk up and knock on the door. Employers like assertiveness.

 I am a little disappointed, I like the Steelers, but I wanted Arizona to win. Let me explain: Pitts has been to the superbowl several times, and won, they were favored, and the perennial favorite.

Arizona is new to the game, and the underdog, they had something to prove, while Pitts really didn’t.

Another reason is that I know a player on the Arizona team, one of  our customers owns a trucking company, and has bought many dump trucks.

His son is Darnell Dockett, one of the best players Arizona has on their roster.

Good job guys, you played well, and fought hard, you will be taken seriously next season.

I was alone in the house the other day, and scrounging around for a snack. I came upon a lone box of Ritz crackers that were not very stale. They say everything tastes better on a ritz, but having nothing to add, I just had the Ritz crackers as they were. Now, to add insult to injury, Mr Ritz decided to place pictures of several lovely food items on the back of the box, in suggestion of what actually goes on the cracker, and how it should be stacked for maximum tastiness.

Oh, shut up you.. dont you think I know how to stack deli meat on a cracker? Did I really need a picture on the box? It’s not brain surgery you know- it’s a damn cracker.

Secondly- Don’t you think that if I had plates of deli meat, and trays of exotic cheeses I would be eating them on a dry-ass cracker?

NO. I’d be face deep in a really good sub sandwich. But I dont have any of that stuff, so I’m not wasting my Grey Poupon on a dry-ass cracker with no meat.

I did have some peanut butter, but it frightens me, and I’m not inviting a case of the runs just to have a not-dry cracker.

Anyway, enough beer, and a Ritz stacked on a Ritz becomes tasty and amusing.

 First, I learned of the passing of an old Internet friend this week. He was on several sites I frequent, and I considered him a very good friend. Although I never met him personally, but we talked electronically often. He was a good friend, and a good man, he created an alter ego on one site simply to annoy and harass the pompous, self-righteous asses that manifested themselves there. His alter was far removed from his real self, yet, also a part of who he was, funny really. I partied with his alter far more than I did the real guy, we were just tilting at windmills, because in the end, we really didn’t change much, and the site is what it is. Both of us long gone from there now.

  The other thing weighing heavily on me is bad news closer to home. A very good friend has been dealing with oral cancer for a bit, and the latest news is grim. They found it early, and treated it quickly, removing part of his tongue. However, more tissue needed to be removed than was first thought, also, cancer was found in his lymph nodes at the time. He has had to have a feeding tube inserted due to the damage in his mouth, and aggressive radiation and chemical treatment will start next week.  His speech and eating ability is compromised right now, so he is rather down. The other news, and having to begin chemo was a double shot we were not expecting.

  He and his wife are both in their early 70’s, this is going to be a stressful time for both of them, and I have  offered as much of my time as I have, so I may not be around much for next bit.

I haven’t been here much, nor have I felt like writing, but I thought I would at least offer an explanation.