Jojo's most awesome Weblog
Jojo's Thoughts, Ramblings, and written words


   I’m a little bummed, I went to the public library to get my first grader her own card, and golden ticket to the world, only to find that since we live in the county there’s a $50 annual fee to check out a book. I don’t have a problem supporting the library, in fact, over the years I’ve done so quite a bit. I even voluteered at this very same library when I was in school. This area, including the county, has high unemployment right now, and a lot of people living at, or below the poverty level. This fee will stop the majority of kids in this area from being able to access books. There are several small, branch libraries in the county, but they are scattered about what is the largest county in the state. In short, fewer books, and far between.  I am probably going to get active over this,  with  one of the first things being a smoking letter to the editor. I’ve written a few of these, and several have gotten results. Stay tuned.


I haven’t felt much like writing lately, a long time really. I do have some thoughts running around in my head, and I’m thinking of reviving this thing, and blowing the dust off.
If I can figure out how to link it to fb, and maybe get a few more readers.


  Stay with me, I’ll get there. I have many good friends, and for the sake of this story  I’ll use Bruce.  Say I’m out in public, and I see my friend Bruce walking along. I haven’t seen him lately, and he doesn’t immediately spot me, so I do the normal thing most other people do in this situation. I call out “hey Bruce!” Now this greeting, exclamation, salutation, or whatever you wish to call it, does not offend anyone in earshot that is not named Bruce. Why should it? It does not concern anyone not named Bruce, and they give it no further thought. I have not disrespected, or snubbed anyone that heard my statement, they merely go on about their business. Now, I called him Bruce because that is his name, and it is what I am accustomed to calling him, since we were much younger.

  Still with me? Good.

 Now, it would be silly of anyone to consider it rude, or not politically correct of me to call out “Bruce” when addressing my friend. It would be silly, and insensitive to call out “hey, random person”, or “human guy”, when speaking of him. Right? Of course.

  So… I have been accustomed to calling this upcoming holiday  “Christmas” since I was a child. It is what is was called in my house when I was little, and it is what he call it now, because that is what we know it as.  It would be silly for me to call it “random holiday”, or even “happy holidays”, because that is simply not what I know it as. So…(again) When I say “Merry Christmas”, I am simply addressing and old and dear friend, and I am in no way disrespecting anyone in earshot that does not know this old friend. I realise that there are other holidays, just as there are other people not named Bruce, but I am not addressing those holidays, or the non-Bruces in the crowd. When I hear another name called out loud in a crowded mall, I do not become offended because a person dared to speak a name that was not mine. When I hear someone say “Happy Ramadan”, or “have a blessed Whatever’, I do not get offended, because they are simply speaking of something that does not apply to me. Just as yelling out “hey Clyde”, has no impact on me what so ever.

  I have a great many friends with varying beliefs, and some with no beliefs at all, and I love and respect them all as individuals, so I truly mean no disrespect when I say “Merry Christmas”, I am just referring to an old, and dear friend that I see once a year.


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.


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.





 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.