How Did We Wind Up in This Mess? Saturday Political Soap Box 132

How did we wind up in this mess?

How did we end up here?

We're witnessing the nominations of each political party being sewn up by the candidates with the highest unfavorability ratings.  And it's not just the normal one party's supporters don't like anyone that's on the other side.  These are historically high negative ratings for leading contenders to have.

How in the world did that happen?

Like many things, there is no one reason.  It is a kaleidoscope of things that are taking us to the brink of our political collapse.

First, there are the independents.  They are actually a much more mixed group than the name suggests. Most independents lean conservative or liberal.  Although there are some people who vote for someone like Ted Cruz in one election, and then in the next vote for someone like Bernie Sanders, they are fairly rare.  Most call themselves independent, but they normally vote within a certain very narrow range.  It is just a modern thing to do, when asked, to call yourself an independent.  And with the way the parties are behaving, who can blame them?

Even I would call myself an independent.  But that doesn't mean my vote is up for grabs by the likes of Ted Cruz.  I'm generally, in most positions but not all, a progressive.  Although, given the nasty division in our body politic, I vote Democratic 95% of the time, that doesn't mean they have a lock on my vote.  If the Republican, Libertarian, or Green Party (the Greens are not on the ballot on Georgia, but they should be) present a candidate that better represents my views, I will gladly vote for them.

The messy part with the growing number of Independents is they don't always get a chance to vote or register an opinion in the different state primaries and caucuses that are held.  I don't know what the effect including more independents would have been on Donald Trump (although my gut tells me it might have helped him), but I have seen polling that indicates that Bernie Sanders does much, much better when independents are included.

So the exclusion of the growing number of independents is skewing the process.

Secondly, party rules are interfering with the process.  Don't get me wrong. The political parties are like private clubs, and they can set the rules to select their candidate any way they want.  They don't even have to have primaries and caucuses if they don't want to.  And it's done state by state, so each state can set up whatever they want within the broad framework allowed by the party.

The Democrats have superdelegates, 712 of them (15% of the total delegates), and they usually weigh in on the side of Corporate Democrats.  It's specifically designed to hamper grass root campaigns of progressive candidates.  It started after the McGovern nomination, and because he lost so badly they wanted to prevent it from happening again.  Unfortunately politics change, and it is leaving the Democratic Party in the hands of corporatists who often do not have the interests of the working class and the poor first and foremost.

The Republicans have fewer superdelegates (7%), but they also have winner-take-all primaries and strange state delegates rules that allows some of them to defy the results of their state primaries and caucuses.  The winner-take-all primaries skew results to a candidate who might be just the flavor of the moment, or wins the state with a very low percentage but still comes out on top because there are so many competing.  Trump won Florida with less than half the vote, but still won all 99 of  Florida's delegates.  Cruz is taking delegates at state conventions in states that Trump won, taking advantage of arcane rules (Ron Paul did the same thing in 2012).

In both parties, the rules are designed to elect the most corporate candidate possible, not the one with the highest popularity.

Given that, it is quite clear that establishment Republicans did not want Trump to be their nominee.  And they still might get their way.  I would argue that as terrible as Trump is (and is by far the worst major candidate since at least George Wallace), he is still a corporatist, and for all his erratic rhetoric, will serve those corporate interests.  That said, they really don't want him.  There will be whole wings of libraries devoted to books that try to explain all the mistakes that were made in trying to stop Trump from getting the nomination.

Thirdly, I blame the group that everybody always attacks - the media.  They have given Trump so much free publicity, it boggles the mind.  Even MSNBC, once a force for moderate liberalism, plays into the hands of Trump, by constantly cutting away to his appearances.  They sure to god don't do that for Bernie Sanders, who they break away from in a heartbeat to go to someplace where Trump is spewing verbal diarrhea.

The years of heated rhetoric barfing out from Fox News haven taken their toll.  When you spend so much time hating and ginning people up over ridiculous issues, it eventually comes back to bite you in the posterior. Trump is a creation of all the hate and venom that has vomited out of the mouths of Fox News personalities.

Finally, and most importantly, I blame the American people, both those who vote and those who can't be bothered with performing a civic duty.  The candidates that are leading are there because many of you voted for them.  My county, Pierce County, had a choice.  It chose Clinton and Trump.

Republicans - a plurality of you voted for a narcissistic, racist, sexist, xenophobic con man.  That is on YOU and your conscience.

Democrats - even though you KNOW that politics are changing, and that Corporate Democrats can only take us so far and have lost touch with their working class base, a majority of you STILL voted for voted Hillary Clinton, a candidate you KNOW has high negatives and little appeal outside of the Democratic Party, a candidate who does not really represent your opinions and interests (I know because I have seen my friends who support Clinton abandon or compromise their positions, like suddenly not favoring true universal health care), a candidate that represents the past rather than the future (and this in a change year election) -you know all this and you still support her.

This will be a terrible election year.  The choice will be brutal, and the campaigning will reach lows you didn't even think possible.  Yes, I will suck it up and vote for Clinton.  I can't hand the keys to the nuclear codes to a madman, and that's what Trump is.  He's like Lex Luthor, but without the intelligence.

Thank you, political parties and the media and the American people, for putting us in this mess.

But I have hope.  As a Christian, I have to believe that we can work towards making the world a better place.

And it is coming.  There is a new, emerging Progressive majority, a revolution that will revitalize the American political system, a spirit that will allow us to move forward and dream again.

You say you want a female President?

How about this ticket?

Elizabeth Warren/Tulsi Gabbard 2020!!!

You heard it here first.

My Europa: Part 1

My Europa

by T. M. Strait

1

What an icebreaker!  Nautilus IV had achieved its major goal, beginning to penetrate the layer of ice that covered much of Europa's surface.  Dr.  Arjun Chopra looked anxiously at the time delayed pictures coming across the huge video screen at NASA headquarters in Houston.  He and about a dozen other scientists who had been vital in planning this mission were standing, willing the Nautilus IV to break through.

It seemed ridiculous to try to telepathically control something that was 390 million miles away, and what you were seeing had actually happened roughly 43 minutes ago.  Nevertheless, it was hard to keep in check the human desire to control and influence.  They couldn't do much about what they were seeing.  They had long ago ceded control to the sophisticated robotics that were at the heart of the Nautilus IV.

"C'mon, Nautilus!  You can do it!", urged Dr. Rose Piper, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, as if to focus more intently on the screen, moving aside the curly blonde hair that had fallen in front of her face.  She was short and heavy set, with a beautiful face and porcelain features.  Arjun admired her greatly, even though he was afraid to express that admiration.  He was tall, skinny and awkward, and far too shy to have much success with the opposite gender.

"You do realize by now that it's either happened or not.  There's nothing we can do about it," chimed in Dr. Dwayne Morgan, the team computer expert, who looked more like a linebacker than a scientist.

"We carefully selected this location, Dr. Piper," said Arjun.  "Landing in a chaos region, specifically Conamara Chaos, offered the most promise for a breakthrough.  The last probe around the Europa, the '29 Galileo Expedition, showed that this is where the layer of ice is the thinnest.  Add in the observed recent eruptions of water vapor plumes, and we have a perfect place for Nautilus to determine what kind of ocean lies beneath the surface."

"Look!" cried out Rose.  "It's breaking through!"

Oh, my God!  It was happening!  The ice had cracked and the water was spewing up around Nautilus' powerful drill.  They all broke out into applause!  Rose hugged Arjun, and he couldn't help but place one hand on the back of her head, touching her wonderful blonde hair.  He drank in the odors of her strawberry peach shampoo, and it was almost more intoxicating than the Nautilus preparing to descend into Europa's ocean.

It was only an hour later that they stood in open-jawed wonder at the sights they had seen.  Somebody had to be told.  And eventually, when the whole world knew, nothing would ever be the same.

Spring Into Local Books!

Love books?

Want to read the best by LOCAL AUTHORS!

Then come on out to the Heritage center April 28th!

The OHC Writer's Guild will have an OUTSTANDING TABLE!

including....

APRIL LEE .... writer of My Year as a Real Woman - Part One: Drag Queen in Training 

AND the brand new short story collection

Looking Back Through the Lens

DAVID ROLLISON......writer of the exciting Mike Kelly thrillers, much of which are based in St. Simons and Southeast Georgia....Black Sky, The Black Dagger, Black Fire and Indigo Island

GRACE LEE...two collections of stories and poetry by our Guild's finest young writer, 87 year old Grace Lee!

LESLIE CRANE...a sensationally gifted and talented Christian fiction writer, we wilh have two of her recent hot sellers available --- the Christian supernatural thriller The Life I Left Behind, and the exciting christian historical romance set in SOUTH GEORGIA, Come to Me Like Rain.

T.M. STRAIT...yeah, I'll be there too.  Collections including Old Pat T and the Great Bathroom Wars and Other Tales of My Youngin' Days, The Strait Line Chapbook, and Crowley Stories (a great collection of stories set in SOUTHEAST GEORGIA).

So get your read on and come on by!

Back to the Grindstone Monday Musings

Well, it was great to have my Fridays back!  And, as an extra bonus, I had Thursday off as well.  Woohoo!

But now it's Monday again, and time to get into the routine for the rest of the year.  There is plenty to do, including catching up with regular work, quarterly payroll reports, and non-profit tax returns (yes, they still file a return, called a 990, even if they don't remit income taxes).  If anybody's worried about me having enough work, they can relax.  I got plenty.

I accomplished nowhere near what I wanted, but maybe this extended weekend wasn't about achieving things, but in unplugging from the stress.  If so, then the past four days have been pretty successful.  I have enjoyed my time at home, with my biggest trip all weekend being to church on Sunday.

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We did adopt out our foster of the last five months, J. D. (John Deere).  The Shelter Manager offered to take J.D. on transport to a shelter in New Jersey that is no-kill and has a high adoption rate.  Before that could happen, J.D. was named Pet of the Week and put in the local papers.  We decided not to send him on transport and see whether he could be adopted closer by.  Well, he was adopted, REALLY close by,  just a few houses down and a street away, by a wonderful lady who loves little dogs and has the perfect setup to cherish and take care of them.  Alison is close enough to walk by where J. D. is, and do so virtually every day.

How long before we have a new foster?  I wouldn't be surprised if it was by the next Monday Musing!

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The stress of tax season became so great that I stopped weighing myself.  I didn't need another excuse to get down on myself.  But this morning it was time to get back on the wagon.  I was stunned by my weight - I was very close to where I was when I left off, and about the best Monday morning weight I've had in years. I have no explanation for it.  I always thought when you stress eat your weight went up.  Oh, well.  My blood pressure is still too high, so I need to get back in and saddle up again.

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There will be a book signing at the OHC this Thursday!

And I still have no book for people to sign.  I have two completed novels, and am still frozen in indecision as to what to do with them.

Nevertheless, I will be there, helping with a table that the OHC Writer's Guild will have.  I will try to post more details soon about it.  If you're in the area, you'll want to check out what all the local authors have been up to.

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Detroit sports toasted this last week.  Both the Pistons and the Red Wings ended their brief playoff runs, I think winning one game between the two of them.  The Tigers faded, but it is still a long season, so my hopes remain.

My two older boys are into MLS (Major League Soccer), and attended a game in LA, watching the LA Galaxy.  It's interesting, but I don't really have a favorite team to watch.  I may adopt Portland - it sounds like a great town, and has Powell Bookstore, one of the best bookstores in the country.  I may have been to Portland, but if so, I was only four or five at the time.  I think I am due a visit.


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Game of Thrones started back last night!  Still an awesome show, and now plunging ahead of the books.  So sorry you couldn't keep up, George R. R. Martin.  Yes, you are the author and have a right to go at your own pace - but dang!  As a fan, I WANT MORE NOW!  Sigh.  Maybe someday someone will feel that way about History of the Trap and/or Crowley Stories.  That would be cool, but y'all better be buying it in sufficient enough numbers to allow me to be a full-time writer.

Of course, it would probably help if I ACTUALLY publish them.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

10 Movies for the Summer: Ripping Good Yarns

It's another exciting summer movie season, and for those who can't wait, summer movies start in MAY!

So here's another rundown of the movies I'm most looking forward to this summer.  Will I get to see them all?  Eventually, but probably not all at the theatre.  Some may conflict with other priorities, some may bomb, and some may wait until we can see them at home.

This list follows the Ripping Good Yarn theme - exciting fiction movies that emphasize melodrama, plot and character - no documentaries, biopics, overly artsy films, small scale dramas - only those most likely to be called Ripping Good Yarns, ones best seen on the big screen.

So that's my rules.  So the first thing I'm going to do is break those rules with choice #10 -

#10 - Free State of Jones.  Sorry, sorry, sorry.  This is just too promising to not include on the list.  Matthew McConaughey plays a Mississippi farmer and returning Civil War Vet who leads a rebellion that is a coalition of poor whites and local slaves.  Yes, it's based on a true story, and should not be on this list.  Nevertheless, it is. Premieres June 24.

#9 - Money Monster premiering May 13th.  It's like one of the old fashioned movie vehicles where big name stars were a guarantee of big box office.  Directed by Jodie Foster and starring George Clooney and Julia Roberts, it has the extra advantage of having an intriguing story - after losing his life savings based on bad advice, a man hijacks one of those creepy investment tip shows.

#8 - The sequel many of you have been waiting for!  We found Nemo, now it's time for Finding Dory, starting June 17th.

#7 - the sequel many of you have NOT been waiting for - at least based on internet feedback.  But I don't care.  I think it's a great idea, and it's directed by the guy who did a great job with Bridesmaid and Spy.  Count me in!  Who'm I gonna call?  Ghostbusters!  this July 15th.

#6 - The Secret Life of Pets.  I don't know much about this except for the trailers look off the leash funny!  What do your pets do when you leave them home alone?  Find out July 8th!

#5 - The BFG premiering August 1st.  It's Spielberg doing a Roald Dahl book.  "Nuff said.  

#4 - X-Men Apocalypse would be ranked #1 or #2 if it had Ellen Page as Shadowcat, but no such luck.  It is rated at least #4 because it has Olivia Munn as Psylocke, and grows out of the very good X-Men First Class movie, which was partially filmed on Jekyll Island.

#3 - yes, DC superhero movies are in a rough patch compared to Marvel.  But I think this might be the one to turn it around.  Still a bit too dark and grim, as it focuses on villains instead of heroes, but it does look like it's going to have a bit better sense of humor.  I look forward to seeing Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn and Jared Leto as Joker. Suicide Squad coming to theatres on August 5th.

#2 - Star Trek Beyond opening July 22nd.  The first of the new movies was so great, that I can't help but have high hopes for this one.  Idris Elba will be playing Krall, a predatory bad guy out to disrupt the Federation.  Beam me up!

#1 - and the best shall be first!  Leading off the Summer Season on MAY 6TH will be Captain America: Civil War.  In my opinion the Captain America movies have been the height of the Marvel films.  I love the Greatest Generation spirit that inhabits Cap and his actions, and when it comes to the Civil War, I am TEAM CAP all the way!

Another Appeal to Hillary Voters: Saturday Political Soap Box 131

Well, Hillary Clinton supporters.  It looks like your dream come true is an almost certainty.  There is still too many political and historical variables to say 100%, but we are talking an 85% or more certainty.  She will almost certainly be the Democratic nominee.

For the rest of us, that means....Bush/Clinton/Bush/Clinton, with only the aberration of the Obama years interrupting it.  We're not a monarchy, people.  We don't need to surrender our political leadership to two royal families.

On the other hand, yes, she is "qualified" to be President.  Although a Corporate Democrat (as is Obama), she does seem to be pragmatic.  She has enough bend that if the progressive forces stick together and stay loud, she will at least have to concede us a few trinkets here and there.  As much as the whole political dynasty thing makes my eyes roll and causes me to throw up in my mouth a bit, I am highly aware of how foully bad the Republicans are, even Kasich.  If we have to wait a few years for paid leave, higher minimum wage and an improved health care system, so be it.  But we have already waited far too long on global warming, and no Republican can even utter that phrase.

So, Hillary fans, whatever her flaws, yes, I will be voting for her in the Fall.  So chill about that, OK?  And as long you stop talking about the Bernie supporters as if they were monsters, most of them will come around too.  She just has to move a little to some of their positions and perhaps select an appealing Vice Presidential candidate.

But she's not going to do that, is she?  She's going to tilt back towards the right, isn't she?  Don't lie to me. You can feel it, too.  I know you can.

The idea being that Trump and/or Cruz will be so repulsive to some Republicans that if she continues to shift more and more rightward, she can win some of them over.

It's a fantasy.  Don't do it.

The voters that don't like you, particularly the Republicans, really really don't like you.  And it's irretrievable.  There's nothing you can do about it.  Fairly or unfairly, years of demonizing the Clintons by the right wing media has taken it's toll.


I had a conversation with a conservative Republican voter, one who can't stand Trump and Cruz, and pretends not to know even who Kasich is.  I asked if Hillary selected a conservative Democrat (Jim Webb, Joe Manchin), a sort-of Republican (Colin Powell, Robert Gates), or even an outright Republican (Lindsey Graham, John Kasich), would it make any difference to him?

And the answer was no, no he wouldn't vote for her.  He would  leave it blank and vote for nobody before he would vote for her.  And then he proceeded to imply that the Clinton's had killed opponents earlier in their career to get ahead, and that they would bump off Sanders if it looked like he might win.

So, no.  A thousand times no.  Tilting to the right will not gain you these people, and it will only lose you chunks of the Bernie people.

I don't think she has to pick Bernie.  But she needs to pick a Progressive running mate.  She needs to do something to show she embraces the new Progressive agenda.  Pick Ohio Senator Sherrod Brown, or Massachusetts Senator Elizabeth Warren, or be truly bold and pick Hawaii Congressperson Tulsi Gabbard.

Would y'all send this message to Hillary for me?

I'm sure she would listen to me.

Miracle on Main Street Part 2

In Part 1, Alison and I find a cat that is in the road on Blackshear's Main Street, hit and broken, blood pouring out of ever orifice.  Even though it is late Sunday evening, we find the vet Dr. Kimbrell at his clinic.  No one believes the cat has a chance to survive.

Dr. Kimbrell believed that the cat would most likely be dead by Monday morning.


But when Monday morning came, Dr. Kimbrell had different news.  "I can't really believe this, but your cat is doing much better.  If you're sure, we could go ahead with the jaw operation,"  Elation was mixed with dollar signs, but we told him to proceed.

The surgery was a success, and the cat grew miraculously stronger every day.  Dr. Kimbrell couldn't help but notice that this was not some polite, sweet domesticated pussy, but instead a cantankerous alley cat, around two to three years old, having had kittens within the last six months.  Just a regular cat, no special breed; still her gray and blue stripes and cagey black eyes emphasized her wild, tiger-like qualities.

When it became apparent that the cat was going to survive to come back to us, a whole new set of problems arose.  She would have to be contained and watched for the next six weeks, fed soft foods and given medicines,  How were we to do this in our little one room apartment, with an already full contingent of pets?

We had a training crate in which we had housetrained our Maltese, Bailey.  We got that out and set it up in a corner of our apartment.  The cat eyed us warily, hissing if any of us got too close.  Alison's cat of five years, a beautiful sweet calico named Patches, was quite indignant at first, but had established a position of mutual non-acknowledgement by the end of the first week,  Our birds, two lovebirds named Lucy and Ricky, and Goldie, s Sun Conure, were blithely unaware of any risk, and just thought of it as something else to watch.

As we watched the cat slowly heal, and its fierce independence take hold, we began to wonder what would happen on that day when it was healed and had to be uncaged.  We would let the cat out and never see it again.  What would our investment of time, money, and care have been for then?

We knew to even have a shot, we would have to have a home of our own.  But most homes were well beyond our limited means.  Nevertheless, we redoubled our efforts to find someplace to live.

Our increased efforts paid off.  Alison's mother's boss owned three homes in Blackshear, and they had always been kept as a unit, but he had decided to sell them as separate lots.  One was a small two bedroom, which considering where we were, was absolutely huge to us.  And the price was, amazingly enough, within our meager budget.  So we managed to secure a new residence, at about the same time our Main Street cat would be ready to be released.

We went to the vet one more time, taking the wiring out of her jaw and decided that the least we could do is limit future strays in Blackshear, and paid to have her spayed.  We realized that "Cat" wouldn't do for her medical records, so we named her Main, after the street where she was found.

When we got Main into our new home, Alison thought it might be nice to have another indoor cat, like our lovable Patches.  This experiment lasted approximately one hour, with our Sun Conure, Goldy, barely escaping with its life.

This was a traumatic moment for us. When we opened the door to let Main out, we knew we were probably saying goodbye, as she resumed the life of a wild stray.  I consoled Alison by saying that the good deed itself was worth doing, even if we would no longer share in Main's life.  But I barely believed it myself, thinking - there goes one ungrateful, nasty cat.

But she didn't just disappear. What disappeared were all the squirrels and birds in our yard.  She would meow at the back door for us to set out cat food (I guess the squirrels and birds were just delicacies).  We would open a window shade and staring back at us would be....Main!

Even more strange, as time went on, she became less wild, more friendly and docile.  She had used her freedom to become more attached to us, not less!  At first she did not want to be touched, but she grew to the point where you couldn't just go out to feed her.  no, she insisted you stay and pet her before she would even consider eating.

She started to get jealous of our walks with Bailey (and later our two dogs, as we added a rescued Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Ivy), and decided to come on the walks with us.  What a sight!  The group of us marching down the residential streets of Blackshear, looking more like a circus caravan.  Sometimes she would go the whole walk with us, and sometimes she would go part way and then wait for us to come back, happily crashing into out dogs (who were too tired to care).

More than two years later, our miracle kitty is still with us, growing more loving every day.  She has indeed led us, to more than I could have ever imagined.  We love our little home and community, we have gone on to much better and brighter jobs, our finances have stabilized, and our spiritual faith has grown.  And our little family is growing yet again.  Alison is pregnant with our first child, one whom I pray is as big a pet lover as we are.

And I pray that our Main continues to be there in our back yard, so that I can take our child by the hand and say, "Do I believe in miracles?  Why, of course I do!  Let me open the back door, and I'll show you one!"


Sadly, Main disappeared shortly after this was written.  We don't know what happened, whether he decided to go elsewhere or had an accident somewhere.  Benjamin never got to meet him.  Still, he has this story.  And he has a mother who has continued to rescue animals, including ones that have been abused, shot, beat, teeth filed, and throats slit; and she has turned them into sweet and loving pets.

God bless the Miracle of Main.  God bless what love, hope and faith can do.

Alternate Realities

1

God Bless the United States of America

And the sixty-three states that make it stand

From Sonora to Albertia

Arctic freeze to desert sand

2

I would come to where you are

Cross the melted terrain

Except the radioactive scar

From the Cuban missile's reign

3

I miss the Presidents Kennedy

Bobby most of all

They brought me a hopeful serenity

Until the Nixonian Fall

4

All the beautiful championships!

The Tigers have caught the World Series by the tail!

10 years in a row without a slip!

Always on top of the baseball world and nary a fail!

5

I don't have my papers in an ordered row

O Please don't take me!

I won't take my star off again; it will always show

I promise it will be where the SS can see

6

Wasn't I smart?  Wasn't I fine?

I bet it all on Microsoft in 1981

Now I'm sitting on a gold mine

Just ascend Strait Tower to Penthouse One

7

It's a Christomerican Dominionist nightmare

Unless you're of them and until you're out

You're in - at least until they decide to pare

From the inner circle's blessed clout

8

I was born way down South in the land of cotton

Where attachment to the USA has been long forgotten

Don't Look Away!  Don't Look Away!

God Bless the CSA!

9

Huzzah!  Huzzah! Are you ready for Season 10!

America's most enduringly popular show- 

I'll sure as heck be seated when

Fox has Captain Malcolm Reynolds and Firefly in tow!

10

All praise that global warming is only a minor nuisance

Thanks so much to the efforts of President Gore

Alternate fuel development has reduced our carbonated footprance

And prevented Atlanta from being our new shore

11

President Carter made it a top priority in his second term

Spending on the NIH like we were trying to make it the moon

He knew that the curse of cancer was a major concern

And it led to a victory that happened so gratefully soon

12

We planted the American flag on Mars in 1986

Just like My Weekly Reader promised me

It took amazing science and imagination; a clever mix

That took the age of greed into the age of we

13

The war on drugs resulted in a surrender

We didn't need our prisons filled with potheads

Better spend on a student than a prisoner

Better a prison with empty beds

14

The moment brought tears to my eyes

President Sanders signing Medicare For All

He fought off all the right wing lies

And finally brought universal healthcare to us all

15

Alternate realities crash constantly in my brain

Every time I wake up, I wonder if I'm somewhere else

As if this morning I've boarded a different train

Hurtling towards a reality previously never felts

Miracle on Main Street Part 1

I wrote this over fifteen years ago..



Sometimes a cat will lead them.  When we first moved to my wife Alison's hometown, the place where she grew up and lived until her last years of college, there didn't appear to be any certainty to our change.  Had we done the right thing?  Would life be any better?  Should we have stayed in the hustle and bustle of metro Atlanta instead of coming to the slow moving southeast Georgia town of Blackshear?  The jobs we had left Atlanta for were not turning out to be quite as promising as we had hoped, and we were living in a storage room at the back of her father's print shop; us, our dog, cat and three birds.

Then one night three months after we had moved down, a tiny pathway to the right answer began to form, led by little cat's feet.  It was Sunday evening around nine, and we were driving down Main Street, coming back from a visit with Alison's mother.  I saw in my headlights a horrible sight.  A cat in the middle of the road, lying in a pool of blood, lifting its head slightly, its eyes caught in the glare of my lights.  I could see in those eyes a desperate confusion, totally lost as to what had happened to it.  I braked the car just inches from it.

My first instinct was purely selfish.  I wanted to go home.  This was not our problem.  But I knew I couldn't live with myself if I did nothing.  Alison and I had to at least get it out of the road.

We got out and looked closer.  The cat was no longer moving, but panting fiercely.  "What do we do?  If we pick it up, we might hurt it worse!," Alison said.

"I don't know," I moaned.  "We can't just leave it in the road!"

Just then, a couple in their fifties, who often took evening walks, came by.  They commented on how mangled the cat was, and how it might just be best to put it out of its misery.  There was a fallen road sign nearby, and the middle-aged man picked it up.  "Here," he said.  "Let me club it with this."

Neither Alison or I could stomach that, so we came up with a different plan.  We used the road sign like a shovel, leveraging the cat onto the sign, and then off the road.  The couple then walked on, leaving us with the twisted cat.

I moved our pick-up to the parking lot of a nearby store, and tried to figure out what else to do, if anything. It was Sunday night in a small town.  What else was there to do?  Who wanted this awful responsibility?

I thought a call to the vet was worth a shot.  "Tom!  It's Sunday night!," Alison exclaimed.  "He's not going to be at his clinic.  Even if I got him at home, he's not going to want to come out for a stray cat."

"I know, but we have to at least try.  I'll put it in the back of the truck and you go call.  If we can't get ahold of the vet, maybe your Dad will know what to do."

Her Dad's shop was only a block away, and she left to make the call.  I put the cat in the back of the truck, trying to carefully slide it off the road sign.  As it lay in the back of the truck, I began to realize the enormity of our arrogance.  It was bleeding from every orifice of its body, including its eyes.  Fresh fecal matter came from its rectum, and I thought -  this is what happens at the end, isn't it?  The only thing showing that it was still alive was its faint but intense panting, sounding like a pregnant woman doing Lamaze.

Ten minutes later, Alison came back with surprising news.  "I can't believe it!  Doctor Kimbrell is there!  He was doing an emergency operation on the dog of an ER technician, and is willing to see the cat!"

Excited by our good fortune, we drove to Dr. Kimbrell's office.  Our excitement quickly faded at the prognosis.  He felt the cat had little chance of survival, and maybe, especially since it was a stray, it should be euthanized.  "Isn't there any other choice?" I asked.

"Well," he answered, "the jaw is broken and will have to be wired  shut.  I'm not sure it will retain its vision, and there may be severe damage to internal organs.  It will take the jaw operation, medication, and boarding, and with all that, it will most likely not survive."  And that brought up cost.  We were in poor financial shape, with inadequate jobs, and no home of our own.  Still, I felt like we had no choice.  God had presented us with this small animal, and whether I wanted it or not, I could not abandon it.  "We'll pay for it.  Whatever it takes."  Alison shivered, not because she wanted to abandon it, but because she knew what  additional financial  pressure it would bring.

The vet agreed to board the cat, and do his best to make it comfortable, and then look at any operation in the morning.  After we left, the ER technician, whose dog had had surgery, and observing the cat's condition told the vet, "If you ask me, I wouldn't give that cat one chance out of a hundred."  Dr. Kimbrell reluctantly agreed, believing the cat would most likely be dead by Monday Morning.


This concludes Part 1.  Keep watching this blog for Part 2!

Full Life Philosophical Meanderings

Don't stop thinking about tomorrow.

No, seriously.  Don't.  And while you're at it, remember the past, too.

Why?

Why not just live in the present?

Why?

Because we're sentient beings, with a conscious and a mind, and we can retain memories and impressions. We have the capacity to learn and to anticipate.  It helps us feel things.  It lends us to empathy and caring.  It provokes us to dream, to imagine, to hope.

It also leads to resentment and desire for revenge.  It leads to hard feelings and failed expectations.  It stirs sadness and depression over people and things that have been lost.

What can I say?  There is no yin without the yang, no good without evil, no light without darkness.

Life is conflict.  Life is a journey.  Life is growth.

There are setbacks and horrors and the incomprehensible.  There are are wonders and beauty and moments of stunning insight.  Sometimes life seems a series of steps towards nirvana.  Sometimes it seems like a series of missteps circling us to a return to the dark ages.

Live as a full human being.  Remember the past.  Enjoy the present.  Dream the future.

One thing above all else should be abundantly clear from this short blog message -

I am not now, nor have I ever been, a philosophy major.

Carpet D Em!

T. M. Strait

Post-Tax Deadline Wednesday Wanderings

Yes! Here is the remnants of my Assignment #10,000 cookie.  I am available for events, including weddings...ALL WEDDINGS.

It's over!

Yes, the individual tax deadline has passed.  This phase of our firm's work operation is complete.  It was a hard, long season.  My heart goes out to Bill Higginson, our Senior partner, who lost his beautiful wife, Maxine, to a deadly and all too quick battle with cancer.  We worked together to get stuff done, and to help Bill, even though all our hearts were heavy.

As big as it is, any generalist CPA firm like ours has a constant barrage of deadlines.  Quarterly payroll reports are due by April 30th....there is a backlog of compilation reports....the nonprofit 990 returns are due May 15th...some corporations have deadlines that are not on the calendar year, so they hit year round....we have some extensive audits coming up...so one deadline may be over, but trust me, things go on and there is plenty to do.

Nevertheless, I am happy to tell you that I will get a mini-Spring Break, and will have Thursday and Friday off.  Woohoo!  The firm itself is closing Thursday afternoon and Friday.  Thank you, Ronald Paulk, for helping us get that break - it means a lot to all of the staff that have worked so hard. And Bill is on vacation the whole week with his sons and his grandchildren.

It's over.

Look, I kinda knew when Sanders underperformed in Ohio that he wasn't going to get the nomination, but I had hoped he would stay in there until California at least.  His subsequent long string of victories encouraged me and gave me a small ray of light.  New York crushed those hopes.

But if Hillary and the mass media think this is the end, they are sadly mistaken.  Bernie has enabled many to "feel the bern", the burn of a new, passionate Progressive politics that have captivated a super majority of our younger people, and sometime soon ,the balance of power will be shifted to them.  I can't wait, so let me be the first to say.....

Warren/Gabbard 2020!

It's over.

The cool weather that I love and had hoped to hang on until after tax season when I could enjoy it more, has left the area, probably until November.  The high today is projected to be 86, and the lowest high in the next 15 days is 85, with temps reaching 92 by April 28th.  I want to walk, but I will probably have to do most of it after dark.

It's over.

A number of shows have finished up, including Better Call Saul, The Walking Dead (I will miss Glenn...or Daryl...or whomever it is that met Lucille up close and personal) and How to Get Away With Murder.  I kind of like the new short season shows (10 to 13 to episodes).  You're not dependent on the Fall season, and the shows are constantly changing.  Like, for instance, this Sunday starts......

Game of Thrones!!!

Yeah, I'm excited about that, you betcha.  Jon Snow lives (well, one way or another)!

It's over.

This blogpost, that is.  Something new, fresh and exciting soon and very soon!  I got a four day weekend to get my fiction back on!  Woohoo!

Happy Hump Day!

T. M. Strait

Assignment #10,000!!!

By all rights, this should be a picture of the giant cookie I made that said Assignment #10,000 on it. Unfortunately, it was in the process of being consumed before I thought about taking a picture of it.  Sometimes I remember that I have a phone camera with me, but most of the time I forget.

Yes, let's first get this out of the way.  As much as I don't care to admit it, I do have a certain numbers obsession that may explain why parts of accounting may be attractive to me.  It's not a part of my personality that I like to dwell on, but it does exist.

When I began working at Higginson & Paulk in June 1999, I started to keep a list of the assignments I worked on, and how much time it took me to do them.  The person who showed me about this list was another staff accountant (the partner's son, Will, who has since gone on to be a very successful financial broker).  The list had a number by each assignment...I think Will's list was somewhere in the 800s.  I thought that was fascinating, and wondered if I could hit 800 myself.

Well, over time, I blew past that number.  Way past.  Even as we changed reporting systems, I insisted on keeping my numbering, even if it was only relevant to me.  On and on I went as the numbers cavalcaded by. 

I had always fantasized that when I hit Assignment #10,000, that I would stop and have a big party, with confetti and pizza and great desserts.

Well, after 16 years, 9 months and three days I finally hit the big Assignment #10,000!  It was on April 12th, and it was a tax return for a preacher and his family who had moved to Tennessee.  Being it was "that time of year", I knew that any celebration had to be more subdued than I had originally anticipated.

I made inquiries to see if anyone baked giant cookies that they could decorate with the words "Assignment #10,000" on it.  Time, shyness, and a lack of initial success convinced me it would be just as easy to make it myself.

So, thanks to a giant tube of Pillsbury, I made a large, round chocolate chip cookie.  Alison was impressed.  I took it to work yesterday morning, and decorated it with some icing and cake writing pens I had purchased.  I must not have gotten the right type, as the icing was thin, and the writing hard to see. Nevertheless, I did my best and brought it to the office's downstairs kitchen.

Talk about making no impression.  I finally told a couple of people that it was there, but I think that only myself and one other person ate any of it.  And then...someone brought the company lunch, a box lunch from Firehouse Subs, that contained a sandwich, chips and....a chocolate chip cookie.

Sigh.  Oh, well.  I guess some celebrations are more personal than group oriented.

Nevertheless.......Assignment #10,000!

Woohoo!

Maybe when I hit Assignment #20,000, I'll have learned how to decorate a cookie better.

And confetti.  Definitely confetti.

UPDATE:

YES!  I took a picture of what was left of the Assignment #10,000 cookie.  I hope you are all AMAZED at the sheer artistry and technical execution of it.

What is at the Heart of it?

Why do we have religion?

What is at the heart of it?

Is it just a result of being sentient, thinking beings?  That we are conscious, able to remember the past, and anticipate the future?

Is it an attempt to explain the things we do not understand?  Sometimes the cold scientific answers are not enough.  We strive to have a greater understanding, a way of making sense of things. Thousands of years ago, if you had no scientific knowledge of thunder and lightning, wasn't it easier to think of it as the result of activities from a God or Gods?

Is it a way to explain what happens after we die?  Unlike many other animals, we were aware that it was coming.  What did it mean?  How could one just disappear forever?  Something must happen, and religion was a way to answer that and help you face the terrors of the inevitable.

Is it a way to make oneself feel special in relation to the mass of humanity?  You and your friends know the truth and the light and the way, and you would make it while others who didn't understand or accept the rituals would not.  Some might revel in the exclusivity of their club.  Others might make it their mission to convert others to what they believed as being your only chance to be "saved".

Is it a way of feeling more spiritually in tune with nature and the environment? Does it lead to a realization that we are just part of a greater whole?  That we become more a part of everything as we calm and contemplate, revive our interrelatedness as we meditate, and learn to inhabit the quiet spaces?

Is it a means for others to control us?  For one group to restrict, dominate, and exploit another group?  Does the dominant group seek to make their interpretation of religion the "official " one and condemn those who do not follow?  Do the advocated practices serve the interests of the controlling group?

Is it a social club?  A group designed to give us comfort, to provide emotional and material support in times of need?  To come together in song and love?  In a world where you increasingly cannot count on so many, does it lend the assistance and caring you need to keep going?

Is it about your own personal weaknesses, and needing the threat of eternal damnation to keep your behavior under control?

Is it about giving hope to the disadvantaged and oppressed?  That there is a sense of justice, and that one day, like it was for the Jews coming out of Egypt, that there will come a day of liberation and jubilation?

Is it about ethics and morality, shaping the world to make things better for all?  Is it about reflecting your love for a deity by showing your love for everyone?  That it is more important to improve things here than to worry about the afterlife? That how you treat others is at the core?

What is the answer?

What is at the heart of it?

That's a tough one, and something to think about.  I don't have a definitive answer.  It's probably not one thing.  It's probably a number of these things blended together.

And maybe they represent growth, stages in our understanding and use of religion.

I would like to think so.  And hopefully, we can work towards that last one - love your god(s), and primarily doing so by loving your neighbor, and by that love, improving the world for everyone.

Amen.

Pixie's Grand Adventure

Our little Pixie waiting in a chair with her sophisticated sister, Ellie, who seems poised to ask, "Excuse me.  Do you have any apple poupon?"

Alison loves animals.  She has great rapport with them, and as a foster mother with our local Humane Society, she has taken many shy, insecure dogs, and helped them become confident and loving companions.

Our first foster was what is described as a foster failure.  Pixie, a little chihuahua mix, came to us bone thin and shaking constantly.  But Alison won her heart, got her healthy and happy, and she fit into our family perfectly, bridging the play style between our other two dogs.  When it came time for her to be transported to a rescue center in Canada, I knew I couldn't send her into that cold land.

Since then we have fostered around a dozen dogs, and Pixie has been friendly and open to them all.  She has become a central part of our lives.

So you can imagine our concern and trauma when we came home from a short trip to Atlanta, only to find Pixie gone.  We had a neighbor help feed and watch the dogs, and we had the screen door propped open so they could go into the fenced-in backyard if they wanted to.

Alison went out to the porch and was greeted warmly by our two pre-foster era dogs and our newest foster.  But Pixie did not rush up to greet her.  Worried, Alison went out into the backyard calling her name.  She found a place by the gate where a very tiny hole was dug, just enough for the very smallest of dogs to get through.

Pixie had escaped before, but had just come to the front yard and waited for us by the garage door.  It was not like her to wander.  We were all very upset, and feared the worst.  In my pessimistic mind, when a dog disappears like that, you never see them again.

We broke up, searching the neighborhood, desperately calling out her name.  We were joined in our search by the neighbor who had been feeding the pets while we were gone.  I had no luck in the area that I searched.  Neither did Alison.

Benjamin, on the other hand, riding his bike, did his best not only to search, but to talk to other people that he saw out and about.  He found a man and his two young children who had seen Pixie an hour ago, wanting to play with his children.  He found two teenage girls who had also seen Pixie come by.  Soon, we had a regular neighborhood posse on the lookout for little Pixie, our loving dog with the white coloring and one ear that stood straight up and the other ear that flopped at half mast.

The man and his two kids borrowed a golf cart from his parents who lived next door, and they went out to help us out.  After  several excruciating minutes, I was overjoyed to see the golf cart come back, with little Pixie in the man's arms.  Our precious friend was found!  Where did he find her?  Two blocks and three streets away, playing in another yard filled with children.

So Pixie had her grand adventure, and what did she do with it?  She was spreading love and affection around the neighborhood, to everyone she met, spreading her magical pixie dust of joy.  No, we didn't want her to get out, but how could you be mad at her?

In this day and age of isolation and closed doors, of people relating less and less to each other, it was wonderful to see a neighborhood come together and help us find our Pixie.

And it made me wonder.

Wouldn't life be grander if we were all a little bit more generous in spreading a little bit more pixie dust?

Peak Wednesday Wanderings

This is a mountain peak.  Why am I starting with a picture of a mountain peak?  I had a thematic reason for it, but its already escaped me.  Anyways, marginally more people click on a blog story if there is a picture in it.  So it's basically a deception, to think you're going to get to look at pretty pictures instead of a rambling missive.  OK,  So,  Anyways, have a great day!

The end is near.  Tax season, that is.  I am so ready to come down off that mountaintop and rejoin the village of life.  (Wait...did I just thematically tie the picture into the writing?  Awesome!)

The returns are getting stranger as the deadline approaches.  It's not always the people with the best bookkeeping that wait until last.  Yes, I come close to the stress building to a nervous breakdown yesterday.  I probably shouldn't say that, but I just did and I don't feel like erasing it.  I guess as the bookkeeping breaks down, my write keeping breaks down.  Okay, the peanut Gallery tells me that doesn't make much sense. Well, sorry sorry.  I'm not sure that making sense is my first priority this morning.

Once again, my back/leg problem seemed to improve over the weekend.  And once again, as I hit peak week, it's coming back sharper.  I got very little sleep last night, between the physical pain and not being able to shut off the re-runs of tax returns playing in my head.

Baseball's started, at least that's the rumor.  Let me check my magic phone and see how the Tigers are doing.....ah, yes, they're 4 and 2.  That's not too shabby.  Wait...they've already played SIX games??? Hokey smokes!  The next thing you know the basketball and hockey playoffs will start!  What's that, you say?  The Red Wings start their first playoff game tonight?  H - E - Double Hockey Sticks Smokes!

I hate to break this to my fellow Bernie supporters, but it looks like he's going to lose New York, possibly by five to seven percentage points.  Does this mean Hillary will get the Democratic nomination?  Almost certainly.  Does that mean Bernie should pack it up and go home?  H-E-you-get-the-picture NO!  He needs to fight through California and be a strong presence at the convention.  The Bern lights the way to the future.  I will vote for Clinton in the Fall, but my heart belongs to the coming Progressive Majority!  

For future reference, this CPA really likes cookies.

Till Wednesday wanders our way again,

T. M. Strait

P.S.   Next Wednesday is NOT in tax season.  Woohoo!

From the Bunker Tuesday Tidbits

The siege is nearing it's end, but we're not there yet.  Given the nature of what I do (more work at the beginning of the process than at the end), it should clear up before the 18th, but it is still too early for that. Right now, I'm dealing with a couple returns that are real bookkeeping challenges.

There is an OHC Writer's Guild meeting tonight, and it pains me a great deal that I won't be able to go.  It will be, I believe, the first time since I helped create the Guild that I will have missed two meeting s in a row.I feel like I'm letting Grace Lee down, as I help provide our gifted eightysomething writer transportation to the meeting. Hopefully, that can be picked up by someone.

I feel like more of an outsider than ever, as I sense the organizations I'm involved with changing, some in fundamental ways, and I have not participated in any of it.

My physical pain from back and right leg has diminished somewhat, but it is still there, particularly in the mornings and evenings.  I'm hoping that when the season ends and I resume my off-season schedule, that the reduced sitting in my office chair and lowering of stress will help.  We'll see.  I really want to bring fiction writing back, and that requires greater concentration than I have been able to give.

I'm also hoping a regular routine of walking/exercise will help.  I have noticed that when I have walked, it has not added to the problem.

We got a scare when we came back form our brief Atlanta fling.  We'd rigged the screen porch door so that our dogs could go outside or sit on the porch during the day, and a neighbor friend, whom we also watch their pets when they take trips, would come in for food and check that they're OK.  Well, when we got back Alison went to the porch and was warmly greeted by three of our four dogs.  Pixie, our smallest, was nowhere to be found!  She had dug a hole by the fence and had left for parts unknown!

We went around the neighborhood, searching for her, desperation and fear overwhelming us.  Other neighbors began to help, one whose children had seen Pixie an hour earlier.  They went out in a golf cart, and found her three streets and a couple blocks away, playing with some children in their front yard.  Thank goodness Pixie loves children!  And thank goodness we live in a neighborhood with such friendly, helpful people!  We are grateful beyond belief.  And we have refortified our fence.

Till Tuesday Tidbits again,

T. M. Strait

A Giant of a Weekend!

I am so grateful to my employers and others who allowed me to take a brief escape from tax season in order that I might be able to attend a concert in Atlanta on Friday night.

The group is my youngest son Benjamin's favorite group, They Might Be Giants.  Their one top 40 hit is Istanbul/Constantinople, but they have many, many great songs.  They are clever and nerdy and quirky, a fun group to listen to and to follow.

The picture above is of the stage, as the standing room only crowd awaits the band's entrance.

The concert was performed at the Variety Playhouse in the Little Five Points area of Atlanta, a strange hippie throwback enclave, filled with tattoo parlors, hookah shoppes, vintage clothing boutiques and vinyl record stores.  Much of the street crowd seems dressed straight out of Haight-Ashbury.

The two brothers, Benjamin and Doug, look forward to their second concert with They Might Be Giants.  They had originally seen them in 2007.  The group does both children's and adult albums, so Benjamin has been able to grow up listening to them.

The foam finger Benjamin is proudly displaying was something he obtained at his first They Might Be Giants conference.  It was a special children's concert, and was also performed at the Variety Playhouse.  He was the only one there at this weekend's concert with the foam finger, and he wore it for virtually the whole concert.

Benjamin (and his foam finger) with his Mama.  Alison also loves They Might Be Giants.  She introduced me to their music in the mid-90s, first hearing one that has become a favorite, Birdhouse in Your Soul.  We saw them once before in a concert in Jacksonville, so this is mine and Alison's third time seeing them.  That's quite extraordinary considering how rarely I go to concerts.  How rare?  I think the last concert I'd see before this one was....They Might Be Giants in 2007.

Example #357 in a series that demonstrates why I am not a photographer.  This was the best shot I had on my camera phone of the group.  You can just imagine what the rejects look like.

If you get a chance to check out their music, google them or search them on YouTube.  They're hard to pigeonhole or describe.

And that's a good thing.

Back to tax season now.  sigh.