A Site for Shore Eyes

While watching the Heritage Golf Tournament, something struck me as interesting. The TV cameras showed shots of egrets and ospreys. I know, you’re saying, so what? Well, the what is, why do some of them stay down there and others go to the trouble of flying up here for the summer? For example, many laughing gulls go south for the winter and return to the marsh here in North Wildwood about April 1 each year. Others don’t bother migrating, but rather remain in southern coastal locales.

One would think that all of them would simply remain in the South, so what’s the deal? Do some of them not like the heat down there, similar to the likes and wants of human snowbirds? I don’t know, but I also find it interesting that the laughing gulls, egrets, and ospreys all show up here at about the same time, but they leave on very different schedules.

The laughing gulls usually leave a day or two after Labor Day, although they left a couple of days before Labor Day last year. The ospreys hang around a bit longer, usually until later in September. Egrets, however, stick around even later, until well into October or even November.

Some gulls, including laughing gulls, stick around to tough out the winter. These birds spend much of their time hanging around parking lots, hoping someone will drop some food. So, we have the snowbirds which fly south for the winter and return in the spring, others that remain in the south for the entire year, and still others that stay up north for the entire year. I’m not sure why some make different choices than others, but I’m not a naturalist, so I don’t care. I only know that it’s true.

I’ve never observed ospreys or egrets staying for the winter.

Tbe species name for the laughing gull is cachinnans, which derives from Latin and means to laugh heartily. Well, they do make a lot of noise, but calling it laughter is a bit of a stretch. If a person made those noises at me I’d probably punch him in the mouth.

They can hardly be called picky eaters, because their diet includes fish, worms, insects (they really keep the greenhead populace down), snails, crabs, crab eggs, berries, garbage, offal, and whatever else they can confiscate. You don’t have to look up offal, because I already took care of that: it’s the internal organs of a dead animal. I suggest we rename it “awful,” which is pronounced the same.

Whenever possible, they prefer handouts, rather than actually hunting down food on their own. I know they like french fries, pretzels, pizza crusts, funnel cakes, and crab fries from Chickie’s and Pete’s. They eat just about anything, with little regard to actual taste. Their motto is, “If it’s free, I’ll take it!” They show up at any festival held before they leave for the winter.

Most gulls eat pretty much the same thing, with the exception being that the larger herring gulls and great black-backed gulls tend to eat the youngsters and eggs of the laughing gulls, and sometimes eat the mature laughing gulls. This is not a laughing matter, but they laugh about it anyway.

The male laughing gulls try to hook up with females, and they then build a nest. If they have no success cruising the bars or sitting on benches on the boardwalk, they build a nest and hope to attract a female looking for a nice home. Those that live in marshes make a mat from straw and grasses, hoping it will float during flood tides. They fashion a cup from the grass to hold the anticipated eggs. These are single-story homes with only one room, because laughing gulls are known to be rather frugal.

Ha ha, just kidding! They only need one room because they do no cooking and have no need for toilet facilities. In case you haven’t noticed, they do most of their business while flying, and I’m not talking about financial transactions. Nor do they bother building a roof over their homes being that their feathers shed water, I suppose.

I find it puzzling that they somehow seem to know when April 1 rolls around and I wonder what gives them that knowledge? We’re not talking about, oh, they’ll be here sometime around March, or April, or May, we’re talking the swallows of Capistrano. Every year I’ve lived here they showed up within a day or two of April 1, and I can only surmise they want to get settled in so they can complete their tax returns in time. But do they have calenders?

I also mentioned that they took off before Labor Day last year, and the puzzling thing about that is that plenty of boardwalk food was still available.

Virginia Beach, Bald Head Island, North Carolina, and Myrtle Beach, in South Carolina, all have Labor Day Weekend events with plenty of food, including barbecue, so perhaps the gulls find these events too good to pass up. Where there’s barbecue you can bet there are French fries and funnel cakes, both food staples of the laughing gull.

Another interesting fact about laughing gulls is that they love to share food. Ha, ha, I’m kidding again! If one latches onto a discarded pizza crust it spends considerable time fleeing from its best friends, which think it belongs to them. The gull with the food makes many evasive maneuvers, and often tries to run the chasers into the side of a building. They all have a good laugh about that!

Despite the gulls’ penchant for boardwalk food, it’s best to not attempt to feed them. In fact, it’s against the law, but the birds generally ignore most laws. Although they’re not usually aggressive, they will sometimes swoop down and help themselves to whatever you happen to be eating. Not much you can do about that.

Another hard drive bit the dust and I lost some things, but others I had backed up on an external drive. I now own a laptop, which makes typing more of a chore, but when this one goes down it’s easier to toss in the trash than a desktop. Also, I can pretend I’m like the younger generation and take it with me wherever I go.

Spring arrived on time, as did the laughing gulls. Some came in on March 29, a day early, but not early enough to cause alarm with the global warming alarmists. The Coast Guard got the channel marker lights working again, just in time for boating season.

All the usual suspects arrived on time: the laughing gulls, the ospreys, and the egrets. I spotted four blue herons in a group on the marsh, something seen only during mating season. Usually, the herons lead loner lives. Sometimes I don’t blame them.

The boards opened over the weekend, with the new lights on the Ferris wheel working quite well with various colors and changing patterns. So far, no one has plunged to his or her death, on that or any other ride, as far as I know.

As a kid growing up on the island I used to start getting excited around this time of year when things started happening, but now it’s just a change in the weather for me, along with increased traffic. Back then, some of the Philly kids started showing up on weekends, but not every weekend.

They say the striper and tautog fishing is pretty good right now, and I’ve heard of some crabs being caught. Last year I never put a line in the water, partly because too many shoebies were fishing and crabbing at the end of the street.

They’re still building new houses on the island, trying to fill up every available space. Most of them are at least two-unit condos. We used to play baseball and football in vacant lots, some of which were vacant for an entire block, but kids these days seem to be forced to play in official fields. There’s something to be said for vacant land, but landowners these days seem to care only about money, whether they need it or not.

We faced a few perils when playing sports in vacant lots, namely sticker burrs and cacti, both of which grew with abundance. The sticker burrs could be quite painful, but the cactus spines were more insidious, primarily because they were almost invisible. One or a few would latch onto the surface of a baseball or football, only to transfer themselves onto the skin of anyone handling the ball. They induced no immediate pain upon transfer, but made their presence known when one was rubbed the wrong way. Then it became difficult to locate the offending spine and even more difficult to remove it, unless one was equipped with a magnifying glass and tweezers. I spent many an evening attempting to remove a cactus spine or two, and just when I thought I had extracted the thing, it was still there. I now wonder if the owners of those lots planted cacti to keep the kids out. If so, it didn’t work.

We definitely need more homes here, as the island is not sufficiently crowded these days. We host very few family get-togethers because parking is at a premium here. Not that anyone seems to be interested in showing up here anyway.

My brother, Larry, often threatens to visit from their summer home a block and a half away, but it never happens. My younger brother, Wayne, drives about 60 miles or so to get his vehicle serviced here but never bothers stopping in or notifying anyone. My wife is a pretty good cook, and we could always offer a free meal.

We can usually attract a family crowd when I threaten them with a low country boil, which they seem to like a lot. It’s also called Frogmore Stew, although it has nothing to do with frogs. I like to cook up some blue claws, as well as the standard ingredients of shrimp, potatoes, corn, and andoulle sausage.

I thought we had found a pretty good eatery in Alfe’s, an Italian joint, and while the food is good, on our last visit the waiter asked if we wanted refills on our iced tea and we said yes. The check listed four iced teas for $7.00, so we won’t be going back. They’ve been around a long time, so they’ll survive without our patronage. The iced tea glasses were rather small, by the way.

We haven’t hit the Vegas Diner yet, and they always put out fairly good diner food, with the typical Greek touch.

With Alfe’s scratched off our list we now tend toward the Lobster House Coffee Shop, and Hemingway’s, in the Grand Hotel. With summer approaching, neither of those will likely be easily accessible.

When I moved back up here from Georgia I never figured it would be so hard to get a decent sub or pizza around here. Those things used to be automatic. Sal’s, in the Crest, just reopened, and he makes a decent pizza, and throws in some New York banter to go with it. When Russo’s opens I’ll be able to latch onto a decent sub again.

And that’s about all the boring news for now, for whoever cares.

“What do you love? . . . About the Wildwoods,” is not only rather stupid, but grammatically incorrect. It should read, “What do you love. . .about the Wildwoods?” but who’s counting?

The city is sponsoring a contest that asks people what they love about the Wildwoods. The winner will get to have his or her picture taken while sitting on a giant beach ball and will receive an all-day pass for the famous tramcars. Ha ha, only kidding! No one knows what the prizes will be, so my question is, why would anyone enter a contest without knowing the potential rewards? My answer is, “I dunno.”

One suggestion would be a free cheesesteak from Mr. D’s, voted the best steaks on the island by Mr. D himself. Mr. D hopes no one else will vote.

Two things I love about the Wildwoods are Wildwood Crest and North Wildwood. The two municipalities should get together and build a bridge running from 26th street to Cresse Avenue. The entire ride would be smooth and traffic lights would not be in play.

Right, that’s another thing I love about the Wildwoods – the traffic signal situation, especially during the off season. This is because I really enjoy stopping and waiting for non-existent traffic and burning extra gasoline, especially now that Obama has prices approaching $4.00 per gallon.

I also like the shock absorber-challenging main drags. People pay for the same effect at Disney World, on some dinosaur ride. The city has threatened to pave a portion of New Jersey Avenue, and citizens should hope that the recently-paved side street wasn’t mistaken for New Jersey Avenue. Officials also threatened to repave part of Pacific Avenue, completing the lame-brained revitalization. Hopefully, this will improve customers’ trips to Silen’s Shoes.

NJ Avenue is scheduled to be repaved from Cresse Avenue to Youngs Avenue, and it’s still a mystery as to how parts of that street became “Youngs” instead of “Young,“ which is what the street was actually named. At Park Boulevard it’s still Young, but at New Jersey, etc, it’s Youngs. I understand there’s a resolution pending to add an “s” to all street names not ending in “s,” so as to remain consistent. Yes, we would then have Atlantics, Pacifics, New Jerseys, etc.

The laughing gulls are due back shortly, and I hope my prediction of April 1 within a day or two stands. My concern is that they left before Labor Day, which was very unusual. A few hang around for the winter, searching supermarket parking lots for dropped food and whatever morsels turn up. The summer gulls usually arrive in groups, but not all at once.

You see, a writer for The Press of Atlantic City, formerly known as the Atlantic City Press, publishes columns stating that man-made global warming/climate change is a fact of life, and anyone who doesn’t agree simply ignores science. Hmm. . . who is ignoring science, when more than 31,000 scientists signed a petition stating that man-mad global warming isn’t happening, and publishing the data they used to reach that conclusion and how it was evaluated?

Then there’s CERN, the people who brought us the Halcyon Super Collider, which built a pristine stainless steel chamber which duplicated the Earth’s atmosphere. They concluded, and also issued a report, stating that humans have very little contribution to any global warming and that it is caused mainly by cosmic rays and the sun.

Then there’s that annoying little fact that shows that the Earth stopped cooling in 1997. As I’ve mentioned before, other factors affect the weather in a big way, including El Nino, La Nina, and volcanic eruptions. La Nina was especially big this year. It also has been established that La Nina causes temporary rises in tides on the East Coast of the U. S.

I like those pesky laughing gulls, except whenever I’m trying to hear the TV while the outside door is open. I still don’t know what they find so funny, but their raucous laughter is quite loud at times. When I go outside I’m self-conscious of the fact that they could be laughing at me. At any rate, I’m sure they’ll be looking forward to Chickie’s and Pete’s opening on the boards, if it hasn’t folded up shop.

With his many tall tales and demonization of conservatives, Obama apparently thinks we’re all stupid. Well, we’re not all stupid, but he probably wins the majority. Let’s hope they don’t all vote.

Wildwood announced it’s looking into putting more junk on the beach, especially cabanas and beach boxes. They want to model the beach department after Cape May’s beach utility. This is because turning part of Pacific Avenue into a pedestrian mall, just like Cape May, worked out so well.

They would also like to implement beach bars to generate even more revenue, but figure that won’t happen until at least next year.

Alcohol on the beach, as the Brits would say, is a simply smashing idea. Currently, alcohol is prohibited on the beach, except for special events, and then within a double-fenced-in area. I suppose the lifeguards just don’t have enough to do, sitting around, catching rays and girls. It should be a blast attempting to rescue snockered swimmers. The Morey Brothers started this trend by getting alcohol permits for their water parks, an idea that was all wet from the start.

The cabanas and storage boxes will be a great asset to the beach, which currently isn’t junked up enough. The whole purpose is not to serve the public, but to generate revenue for the city. Yes, the city has a budget shortfall of about $3 million. The commissioners approved an emergency appropriation of $2.15 million, because the budget they took over included laying off 42 people.

Is it not amazing that taxpayers in Wildwood are paying for at least 42 people who aren’t needed? Should a clerk be making more than $60,000? Maybe, if the clerk is a professional engineer and is also performing the duties of that position.

So what is the city spending $23.46 million on? Well, there’s the almost one block of haphazardly-strung LEDs across Pacific Avenue, and the city finally managed to pave one side street, with the threat of paving part of New Jersey Avenue. Oh, and some of the silly palm tree street signs are missing a frond here and there. And they had to have signs made for Jerry Blavat Avenue, which also retains its original name. A while ago some commissioner mentioned that the silly lights on Ocean Avenue, which do not reflect anything from the Doo-wop era, are in need of repair. If the city is doing something other than paying people to ensure that nothing gets done, it’s rather hard to see.

Yes, the commissioners approved horses on the beach during the off season, plop, plop, plop, surely a great idea! “Mommy, is this a peanut butter fish?” “No – don’t touch that! Go find yourself a jelly fish!”

They were also talking about building a corral or two in the back part of the beach, which I guess means somewhere near the boardwalk. Visitors feed the seagulls even with the signs stating that it’s prohibited, so I can imagine them throwing candy apples and popcorn to the horses.

Another thing they’re talking about is allowing RV parking and camping on the beach, probably near Cresse Avenue. Right, get the Crest involved in these stupid schemes. Do we really want people camping overnight on the beach? The rules say everybody off the beach by 10:00 p.m, so why not keep it that way? Oh, that’s right – it’s okay as long as money rolls into the city coffers.

Does it not occur to taxpayers that most municipalities find ways to generate revenue by normal means and that most of them don’t have a beach and boardwalk? Wildwood already has that stupid “Tourism and Development” tax, and nobody can seem to account for the money that’s raked into the coffers, not only from Wildwood, but from the north and south. They want to raise that tax also, but the city has to coordinate it with the other municipalities on the island. We’re already paying 9% sales tax and they want to raise it even more? I think I’ll open a restaurant in Rio Grande.
I guess they scrapped last year’s scheme to build storage lockers under the ramps and sell advertising on them. Hey, maybe they could charge the company that tows the advertising signs behind airplanes, a flat rate for each pass!

It’s hard to believe that a city as small as Wildwood comes up with a budget of $23 million, yet seems to have no urgent priority for paving streets. Instead, the commissioners just sit around dreaming up schemes to generate more revenue, apparently so they can spend more money without actually improving the city.

Just a few things that the mayor and commissioners might want to consider:

1. If you want more revenue, then attract more people. Drive over to Avalon and see what a resort town should look like, with respect to streets and shopping.
2. Get rid of the palm tree street signs. This isn’t Florida, and the signs look like a city employee made them in his garage.
3. Forget stringing LEDs across streets. In the event that the city decides to string them anyway, make them straight and neat. They should look as if an adult was in charge of the project.
4. Get rid of the tourism and development tax. The city isn’t developing anything, and the tax scares people away, or at least stops many from returning. We’re taxed too much already.
5. The various Pacific Avenue schemes obviously didn’t work, so consider restoring the street and sidewalks to their former sizes when it was possible to turn onto the avenue from a side street without going over the center line.
6. Remove parking meters from Pacific Avenue so potential customers of businesses don’t take their money elsewhere. Most people don’t want to eat in a restaurant that requires going outside to feed the meters occasionally. More business means more businesses and more ratables.
7. Traffic lights are for regulating traffic. When there’s no traffic they only waste gas and aggravate drivers. The only lights that should be on during the winter months are on Rio Grande Avenue. Also, hire a traffic engineer to figure out the best timing for the lights. When one light turns green, the light at the next street should not turn red. Is this another scheme for local gas stations (read Wawa) to sell more gas?

It’s interesting that local newspapers often state that this magazine or that magazine ranked Wildwood’s beaches number one or number two, but most serious rankings give no mention at all to Wildwood beaches. It’s really just a beach, and a big one at that, but it’s crowded and not that attractive. Sort of like Wildwood during the summertime.

I don’t know what the average IQ is in the U.S. of A, but the people who showcase their talents don’t appear to be very bright. I read comments on various columns online, and it’s obvious that a good number of people can’t spell, even with a spell checker, and know very little about proper grammar. I’ve used examples before, and my favorites still are, “Your stupid,” and “Your an idiot.”

Sometimes I watch “Wheel of Fortune” on the tube. I’m not sure how they screen the contestants for the show, but it must be something like trying to put square pegs in round holes. After a good number of letters have been guessed during the show, and the answer should be apparent to any fourth-grade students watching the show, contestants are buying vowels. Also, when they seem to know the answer to the puzzle and pick a letter, they almost never pick one that obviously appears more than once in the solution. This is critical, because each letter is worth the value spun on the wheel.

But the morons on “Wheel” really don’t bother me, and, in fairness, they get some contestants who seem to be highly intelligent and solve puzzles I can’t figure out at such an early stage, although I admit I solved more than one with no letters at all. That’s because they announce the theme, and if it’s a song title or lyrics, or a movie title, sometimes it’s not that hard to figure it out.

Anyway, the stupid people who really annoy me, other than Obama, are Congressmen and Senators. Just watch C-span for awhile and you’ll see what I mean. Awhile back, when the military wanted to send 8,000 Marines to Guam, Rep. Hank Johnson, (D-GA) asked about the length and width of Guam, and said he was concerned that if they sent 8,000 troops there the island might capsize! You can view the actual exchange here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs23CjIWMgA

I saw another senator being interviewed about the debt and he kept insisting that we needed to spend more money to make infrastructure improvements and stimulate the economy. Neil Cavuto, of Fox News, repeatedly explained that we’re more than $15 TRILLION dollars in debt and we don’t have the money, but, in the same manner as Obama, with everything he does, he just kept plugging away, saying we needed to spend more money to get us back on track. It was clear he had little, or no, understanding of economics.

My question is why are we sending unqualified people to Congress by voting them in? These people are supposed to be running the country, and it’s obvious that very few of them can even tie their own shoelaces. Why do they not have to submit a resume, listing their qualifications? Everyone else has to do that to get a job, but it’s not required for the most important jobs in the country, including the president.

That’s right, if you’re 35 years of age and a natural-born citizen, you’re eligible to be President of the United States and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, even if you have no experience, as is the case with our present occupier of the White House. No, a GED is not a minimum requirement for the office. You don’t even have to be 35 or a natural-born citizen to be elected to the House or the Senate, and you also need not worry about education or experience.

Other stupid people are liberal entertainers, so to speak. Some of the biggest-mouthed idiots are Alec Baldwin (why didn’t he leave the country as promised?), Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Whoopi Goldberg (was she named after a noisy cushion?), everyone else on “The View,” Jay Leno (has a thing about Rick Santorum), David Letterman, Jimmy Fallon (does anybody watch this unfunny dude?), Barbara Walters, Diane Sawyer, and, of course, last, but hardly the sum total, George Clooney.

Many of these morons, including our president, espouse both socialism and communism. Many think the mass murderers, Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, and Mae Tse-tung, or Mae Zedong, if you will, are or were wonderful people. I wonder if any of them know that back during the Kennedy administration, Fidel and Che were going to send a nuclear missile into NYC on Black Friday? Boy, that would have been a real knee-slapper! The only thing that prevented the whole deal was Nikita Khrushchev, who got wind of it. Nikita, not Kennedy, was the person responsible for Cuba pulling its missiles out, but the U.S. had to remove missiles from Turkey in return. Of course, that’s not how it got reported.

Oh, yeah, Mao had something like 50 million citizens killed, in the name of advancing communism. This also occurred in Russia, under Stalin, who starved to death about 100 million citizens to advance his communist agenda, and we now have a president who wants us to adopt those same ways. That’s one reason so many people are scared these days, and no one seems inclined to stop him.

Last Friday, March 16, he issued a new Executive Order that pretty much gives him the power to establish martial law and take over businesses. It updates a previous EO (12919) to include TSA and Homeland Security, but also changes it to be permitted in non-emergency situations. Oh well, just let the anointed one do whatever he wants.

Leonard Pitts, Jr, a syndicated columnist who happens to be black, writes some of the most bigoted columns I’ve ever read, so I don’t read them anymore, except when I’m a bit outraged by the title, as is the present case with, “Limbaugh: How low can you go?” He chastises Rush Limbaugh for referring to Sandra Fluke as a prostitute and a slut and then says that Limbaugh’s apology was based on lost revenue, which is patently false. A few advertisers withdrew from advertising on the show, and one, Carbonite, saw its stock plunge by 12% in one day after withdrawing as a sponsor. All three have asked to be allowed to come back. Pitts also tells us how we’re going to react and what we’ll think, according to his racially biased mind that panders to the far left.

And let’s not forget whack jobs such as Keith Olberman, Alan Colmes, and Chris Matthews.

Pitts, nor any other liberal, never complained or wrote columns about an incident last year by Ed Schyultz, of MSNBC, who called Laura Ingraham a slut on air. Nor was there any hoopla when atheist Bill Maher called Sarah Palin, on air, a tw_t and a c_nt. No, those things were okay because they were said by liberals. Pitts’ entire column smears and insults conservatives, primarily because he’s a dyed-in-the-wool racist who is really not very bright.

Now, I see that Jane Fonda and Gloria Steinem want Rush taken off the air. Okay, that should happen right after Fonda is executed for treason. Well there are two more stupid people for the rolls.

The wealthy mostly don’t worry about flying. Entertainers, sportscasters, newscasters, athletic teams and many others, fly all over the place. They’re here, they’re there, they’re not everywhere, but they may as well be.

They almost never crash and when they do, it’s because they decided to fly in some little private plane made out of balsa wood and tissue paper. In the cases of the Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and Big Bopper, as well as JFK Jr, the pilots were not qualified to fly on instruments. In the case of Payne Stewart, the late golfer, his jet apparently lost pressure and no one knew it in time to put on oxygen, or at least that’s the speculation. The plane continued flying itself until it ran out of fuel and crashed to the ground.

But those are exceptions, and rare ones at that. We had Patsy Cline, Jim Croce, some members of Lynrd Skynrd, and some others, all killed in small, private plane crashes.

Rich people don’t worry about crashing, apparently. A number of top golfers, including Tiger Woods, have their own jet aircraft. Jack Nicklaus has owned one for decades.

Donald Trump even flies around in a helicopter, with not a worry in the world. Obama takes Marine One, the official helicopter, to the airport to board Air Force One, and he puts more hours on that plane than I put in my car.

I haven’t flown much recently, but my first flight was less than two hours long, when I flew home from boot camp at Great Lakes. I boarded a plane at O’hare in Chicago and flew into Philadelphia. I think it was a 707, but it could have been a DC-8.

Most of my flying took place during my time in the U.S. Navy. After boot camp I flew out to San Francisco, and a few days later flew to Seattle, then Tokyo, where we stayed overnight, then Okinawa and finally, Manila, in the Philippines.

They eventually put me on an ammunition ship to take me to my destination, the U.S.S. Kitty Hawk, an aircraft carrier. Word was that they would transfer us by high line from ship-to-ship, but then they got the idea to do it by helicopter. I remember waiting on the rear helo deck with the ship bobbing up and down while the helicopter attempted to touch down. Eventually it did and we lifted off. Military helicopters are very noisy, or at least they were, and it feels as if they’re constantly trying to fall out of the sky, unlike a fixed-wing aircraft. When we touched down on the flight deck of the carrier, I was glad I had my seat belt tightly fastened! I was also glad the helicopter had shock absorbers.

I stayed on land and sea even after we returned to San Diego, although I wasn’t returning, because I had never been there. When Thanksgiving weekend was looming near, a couple of friends suggested flying up to LA to see what was what up there, so we did. I think we flew military standby, so it cost like 27 dollars.

We were scheduled to deploy to WESTPAC (Western Pacific) on December 31, so during sea trials, some genius got the bright idea to send me to firefighting school. They said I had to fly off the ship. I said I could wait till we got back to port, but they insisted. Well, these thrill seekers who ride these modern roller coasters should try this for a thrill!

We sat in seats facing the rear of the plane, and they told us to buckle our seat belts and double shoulder harnesses as tightly as possible. This plane was a two-engine prop job, and the engines revved up, and suddenly we hung forward in our belts, even though they were tight, and it was impossible to move a muscle! When inertia settled the bill, we noticed papers, hats, glasses and other sundry items in the back of the plane.

So, I flew across the Pacific a few times, and later, up and down the East Coast from Jacksonville to Newark several times. On one of those trips, everybody got off in Columbia, SC, leaving just me and one other guy on the plane. After takeoff, the flight attendants (they may have been stewardesses then) asked if we wanted to move up to first class. After moving up, they said we now got free drinks.

I asked one of them if I could see the cockpit, and she said she would ask the captain. He turned around and said, “Come on up.” I told him I was in navigation in the Navy and he showed me how they were navigating, which was pretty crude for the time. They used a small radar unit similar to the ones we used on the boats in Vietnam, and pretty much just followed the coast, same as we did.

When we neared Jacksonville, he requested permission to make his approach and they told him to make right circles. He asked his copilot to see why they were holding and he said something to the effect, “This is flight . . ., please advise as to why we’re holding.” I expected a formal response, but the radio crackled and a sarcastic voice said, “Spiro’s coming!” Yes, we had to wait for the VP of the U.S. to land before we were permitted to.

So they finally got clearance to land and I headed back to my seat and was attempting to buckle up when the captain leaned around and said, “Don’t you want to be up here for the landing?” Whoa! I jumped out of my seat and entered the cockpit and he told me to stand in the doorway. He showed me the lights with an arrow and said that was where they were going to put it down. I got to see everything and it was the only landing I ever experienced in which I felt completely safe. When he reversed the engines I had to brace myself by pushing against each side of the doorway. I don’t know how many rules he had broken by letting me experience that, but it was certainly a memory of a lifetime! No big deal for a pilot, though.

When I went to work for a large engineering firm I had to fly occasionally to two different field sites, one in Oswego, NY, and the other in St. Francisville, LA. I also went back in the Navy Reserve for about four years, and I had to fly down to Gulfport, MS every year for two weeks active duty.

One particular time we boarded a stretch DC-8, with our entire battalion, over 400 of us, on board. We taxied down the runway for what seemed an unreasonable amount of time, but eventually we lifted off. Unfortunately, we hit heavy turbulence and were not permitted to leave our seats. The flight attendants were strapped in and couldn’t serve us our meals, although they hastily gave us some food when we were close to our destination.

So I’ve flown a few times, both for business and convenience, but I’m still not comfortable with the whole thing. I first developed a fear when a DC-10 took off from Chicago in the late 70s and an engine fell off. The plane crashed and went up like a bomb! I had, up until then, always assumed there was a chance of surviving a crash, but these people had no chance!

Rationally, I know the odds of crashing are very slim, but it happens. The thing is, once they close that hatch I feel trapped. And I don’t like funny noises while I’m sitting in a plane, like when they close the cargo doors.

So, yes, I’m a control freak when it comes to flying. I have no control over anything the pilot does, and I can’t really see what’s going on, unlike my flight from Newark to Jacksonville. And now we have terrorists to deal with. If they screen two Muslims, they’re not permitted to screen another one on the same flight. How idiotic is that?

Will I fly again? Maybe. For me, it’s sort of like eating Brussels sprouts – it’s not something I have to do, even though a bunch of people think I’m crazy for not liking them. John Madden used to take Amtrak, but he now uses a personal, customized motor coach, his sixth. He doesn’t do the Pro Bowl, because it’s in Hawaii, and won’t announce any games outside the U.S. His wife, Virginia, holds a private pilot’s license. I think I would fly to Hawaii. I’ve flown from there several times.

But get this! My friend, Rocco, a former Green Beret who has jumped out of military planes countless times, tells me he is no longer fond of flying. I don’t know all of his reasons, but I know it at least makes me feel that I’m not weird for not wanting to fly.

Back in grade school I had Mrs. James as a teacher in fourth grade, and for one subject in fifth through eighth grades. For some reason I became prone to making comments on some things she said, which caused her to holler, “Out!” meaning I was to leave the classroom and stand in the hall. One time, while one of my classmates was rehearsing a speech, I dropped a steel ball from a pinball machine and it hit the steel rail connecting my desk to my seat and rolled noisily across the wooden floor. I picked up the ball before heading out.

In the early years, more than one teacher made me go to the cloakroom. Each classroom had a cloakroom with doors that stopped about six inches short of the floor and were mounted on pivots. Open the main door and they all opened. Sometimes I joined one or two others in there, or they joined me.

My vocabulary became rather extensive, because in addition to kicking me out of class, Mrs. James had me stay after school and copy dictionary pages, including all the funny symbols of pronunciation. What fun! When I say pages, I don’t think I ever completed an entire page in one sitting, but many sittings occurred. My mother knew better than to expect me home on time every day. She would just say, “Did you have to stay after school?”

I also had the displeasure of having Mrs. Wright twice, first in pre-first (what they now call kindergarten) and again in fifth. She was okay in pre-first, and had us put into groups named after birds. I was in the Goldfinches, her favorite bird. The Cardinals were next on the list, and you can pretty much figure which kids were in the Blue Jays group. In fifth grade she seemed to find pleasure in embarrassing me in front of the class, whether intentional or not. She also got upset whenever she would force me to take a part in a play and I would miss school on that day. I didn’t like being in plays. Another time I was off from school but later in the day I went to the Acme Market with my mom. Of course Mrs. Wright saw me there and made a big deal about it.

We had a mother who was usually complacent if one of us didn’t feel like going to school on a particular day. She would always write a note for us, saying we had something or other, but her notes were more authentic than Epstein’s, on “Welcome back Kotter.” His would say, “Dear Mr. K, Epstein was out because of blah blah blah. Signed, Epstein’s mother.” Incidentally, Robert Heyges, who played Epstein, recently died of an apparent heart attack.

We had our share of teachers, good and bad. One, Mr. Kulp, who taught math, had a thing for grade-school-aged girls. Long after I got out of school he shot himself while talking on the phone with one of his female students who apparently wouldn’t marry him or something. He survived, but his career didn’t. I remember he used to call a girl in my class “Sexy Susie,” although she wasn’t named Susie. I wasn’t completely clear on what “sexy” meant.

I believe he came in a few weeks after school started for the year, to replace Mr. Malchuk, who lasted slightly longer than a Mr. Softee out in the sun. I’m not sure what got him fired (we always assumed he had been fired), but one day when Mr. Wright walked past the room, Malchuk pointed and laughed. I think it had something to do with the principal’s nose, being that we referred to him as “Beaky.”

Mr. Becotte was our shop teacher, and he was a pretty nice guy. I was building a cedar bookcase during eighth grade, and after gluing the pieces together, found it necessary to sand them. Apparently there’s a limit to how much something should be sanded, because one day, Mr. Becotte picked up the pieces to my bookcase, nailed them together, and told me to varnish it. I still think it could have been a bit smoother. That bookcase stood the test of time and the last time I saw it was when my father passed away.

The closest thing I saw to corporal punishment was by Miss Nealy, and a kid in my class who shall remain unnamed, although I remember his name. We gathered around with our little chairs for story time, I guess, and this kid sat on the floor. Miss Nealy told him to get off the floor and he said no. She told him again and he said no. She got up, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the classroom, kicking and screaming, supposedly to the lavatory, AKA the bathroom. He never challenged her again.

Mr. Boylan was also a decent sort, and he loved bowling so much that he thought everyone should do it. He worked out a deal with the new Rio Lanes and started a bowling league for us that met on Saturday mornings. He taught us how to bowl after school, using an iron instead of a bowling ball. Each kid would take a turn, and I observed. As Yogi Berra once said, “You can observe a lot just by watching.” Well, eventually I got tired of waiting and got up to leave. He told me I was going to miss out on learning how to bowl. I said okay, and the next day I had the high game for the league. No, I’m not bragging, but just saying that sometimes watching is enough to figure things out.

Mrs. Kimble taught me in either first or second grade – I get those two grades confused sometimes. Her room at the time was at the west end of the building, and one nice spring day her husband and some of his friends stopped by the window to tell her he had caught some fish. Or maybe it was that he was going fishing. Does it matter?

One of the things kids feared most in those days was being “brought up,” meaning one of the safety patrol kids on the playground would take you to see the principal due to some infraction such as fighting. One particular kid held the record for this, and he shall also remain nameless. Suffice it to say he was quite different from his brother, who ended up dying in a vehicle accident in Vietnam.

After Mr. Wright took over as principal, most kids feared, rather than respected him. One year at Halloween, he implemented a schmoo program, and anyone caught soaping windows or engaging in other activities was to be reported as a schmoo, and became ineligible for cheap prizes. Well, they used to hold a block party on New Jersey Avenue, between Sweet Briar and Cardinal, and someone reported me for soaping the windows on Batt’s store. Nevermind that the window had already been covered with soap or that Jimmy Batts stood in the doorway laughing. He always got some kid to clean off the windows after Halloween. Well, another kid and I had to go see Mr. Wright, and he talked sternly to us (I think they called it a tongue lashing back then), and we got none of the worthless prizes. Big loss. . . Yes, we owned the distinction of being the school’s only schmoos.

Nobody seems to soap windows anymore. They’re too busy slashing tires, throwing Molotov cocktails, and shooting each other. Back in the day, though, we all knew there was only one soap worth its weight in soap and that was Ivory, the best soap every made for soaping windows. Yes, it floats!

So Mr. Wright and his wife got into square dancing, and staged a big square dance out in the playground area. What was it with teachers thinking everybody should take up the same hobbies they enjoyed?

Miss Twiford, my third-grade teacher who became principal long after I left the school, took a trip to Mexico and brought back many wondrous things, including sombreros. So the whole school, once again on the playground, had to do the “Mexican Hat Dance,” and no, I don’t know why it’s not called the “Mexican Sombrero Dance. . .”

The school is gone now, as are many of the teachers, although a few are still around. Miss Twiford became Mrs. somebody and I saw her name awhile back on a property transfer.

But the school is long gone, replaced by houses. The demographics changed, with fewer families in the area starting out with young children. This is contradictory to when they built a new addition on the northwest end, which included some classrooms and a pre-first with a separate playground. The west wall was solid brick with no windows, making it great for playing “three flies, six grounders.” You can look the game up.

Lately I’ve been searching for movies on TV from the 1950s and 1960s. I find no interest in movies from that era that depict other eras or sci-fi, because I’m interested in remembering what those times were like.

What’s that? Yes, I know I can’t go back, but sometimes I have to escape from this present-day society that’s becoming evermore decadent, despite the protests of the majority.

I saw an article today that stated that most Americans want same-sex marriage, according to the polls. Well, I’m not sure what polls they’re using, because it’s my understanding that most people think it’s a bad idea, and have voted that way consistently, although progressive judges have overruled the peoples’ will in case after case. It’s another, “You’ll have same-sex marriage, whether you want it or not!” It’s the same way with the military, where they trumped up the results of the polls showing that members of the military thought repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” was a good idea.

What actually happened is that a higher number of respondents were either against or strongly against allowing homosexuals to serve openly than those who responded they were either for or strongly for the issue. However, a number of respondents were neither for or against the measure, so they just took those numbers and added them to the ones who were for it. In other words, they presented trumped-up data to the military leaders.

So I watch these movies and get to see a lot of cool cars I remember, and nobody’s talking about men marrying men, or women marrying women, and I see hardly anybody with even one tattoo. Another interesting thing is that people smoked just about everywhere, indoors and out, and nobody got up screaming that they were going to contract lung cancer or other diseases from second-hand smoke. What I’m saying is that it felt back than as if we had real freedom, and considerably more than we now have. It’s gotten even worse since the country elected a communist president.

Another thing missing from these movies is profanity and nudity. I think the first movie I ever saw that had some nudity in it was in boot camp, in 1967, and the movie was “Hurry Sundown,” and I thought the movie was pretty bad. Now, nudity and profanity is commonplace and pretty much required in movies, even when bedroom scenes are not tantamount to the storyline.

Profanity also runs rampant on TV these days, and nobody seems to care that children may be watching. The “A” word is the mildest, but is used frequently, needed or not. Jay Leno rarely fails to get it in a few times. Another one is the “P” word, referring to the male sex organ, and it’s not really an obscenity, but is hardly suitable for TV. Another is the other “P” word, as in P—-d off, and the list goes on and on.

Another thing interesting about these vintage movies is that they vary considerably, even when filmed during the same time frame. For example, “Anatomy of a Murder” was released in 1959, in black and white, and many older cars are prevalent. The interiors of homes and offices looks as if it was filmed in the 40s rather than the 50s. However, “Cash McCall,” shot in 1960, is in color, has mostly cars of the era, and the interiors of homes and offices are very up-to-date. Of course, people were still flying around in prop jobs, but that was about to change in a couple of years, with the introduction of the Boeing 707.

No, they weren’t using cell phones or FAX machines, or ATM’s, or HD TVs, or GPS. They couldn’t use many other things that hadn’t been invented, but that doesn’t mean life wasn’t good, or even better. I sometimes wonder if I would give up these modern conveniences to be able to live as we did then, and it’s a tough choice.

Freedom is a huge thing, and it’s what the U.S. is supposed to represent, but we somehow got a huckster in the White House who promised he was going to radically transform America. Obamacare set the framework in place for that change. It’s interesting that this guy says one thing and then does exactly the opposite. For example, when trying to get the healthcare law through, he said if they couldn’t do it with two-thirds of the votes it would be no good, because “you can’t govern.” Well, it didn’t get the two-thirds, but that hasn’t slowed him down.

The debt was about 10 trillion after 8 years of Bush, and of course, that wasn’t all due to Bush. With three years of this clown, the debt is at about 16 trillion and he wants to spend more. What is sad is that even the Republicans are taking no action to stop Obama from bankrupting us. They just come up with what they call “compromises,” which means pretty much, give the guy whatever he wants and declare victory.

Then, once again, we end up with candidates picked by liberals and the mainstream Republicans. You would have thought we would have learned our lesson when just about anyone except Bob Dole could have beaten the draft-dodging liar, and when just about anyone except John McCain could have beaten the Marxist. Now the progressives are laughing at the Republicans, and there’s little defense to offer.

So back to the old movies and nostalgia. No one in the movies ever tells anyone what to eat and that kids can’t eat a hot dog at school. When I had to eat cafeteria food, my favorite was the dirty-water hot dog on a steamed bun, and an ice cream sandwich for dessert. Yes, it was real ice cream.

One bad thing is that most cars had no seat belts back then, and the ones that did had only a lap belt. That kept a person in the car, but what good is that if you hit your head on the dash in a 50-mph crash? No, they didn’t have airbags, but I have a story about those things, too. I watched a short movie put out by Chrysler, the first company to test airbags. Remember, these things were supposed to protect us passively, because so many people failed to buckle up. Well, this guy gets in a Chrysler vehicle (it may have been a Dodge) and takes it up to 50 mph and crashes it into a concrete wall. He then opens the door, gets out, and walks away. Not only did the air bag not kill him, but he needed no seat belt! What has happened since then, that we need both?

There are a lot of fools in the world, and I’ll never understand why some people refuse to wear a seat belt, and refuse to wear a helmet when riding a motorcycle or bicycle. Yes, it’s their life, but why be stupid?

Now, to answer my muse to myself, I probably wouldn’t want to give up all the gadgetry that gives us so much convenience, but I don’t like the way things are headed downhill morally and fiscally. I guess I want to go back to the 50s, but with all the new technology in place.

I suggest digging up some old movies and seeing what life was like back then, just in case you either forgot or hadn’t been born yet.

II see that Government Motors had halted production of the Chevy Dolt, supposedly a temporary measure. Oh yeah, they laid off 1300 workers. This is one of the most ridiculous cars ever foisted on the public. Yes, it has a gasoline engine, but it’s not considered a hybrid because the gas engine runs the electric motor, or something like that. I’ve mentioned the Dolt before, so there’s no sense in pursuing it anymore. Meanwhile, it costs taxpayers about $250,000 per car. The so-called president thinks that if he gets gas prices high enough people will flock to Chevy dealers to buy toy cars. Not going to happen!

Let’s move on. I was once again reflecting on candies of my childhood and youth. Much of my candy buying took place at Pantalone’s drug store and they had a refrigerated display case. We pretty much bought only candy and fountain sodas there, because, as our father once said, they gave you a “marble” dip on an ice cream cone. Johhny Pantalone (the son) made us sodas with whatever wild combination of syrup we requested. Edith Pantalone watched us kids like a hawk every time we went near the candy display. Let’s see, the non-chocolate candies I bought were Necco Wafers (preferred the chocolate and licorice), Charms, Chuckles, Life Savers, Bonomo’s Turkish Taffy (usually vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and sometimes banana), Jujyfruits, Jujubes, Dots, Good & Plenty, Licorice that you tore down the center to get two pieces, and some others I can’t recall.

In mostly chocolate coated or chocolate, there were Junior Mints, Nestle’s Chocolate, Nestle’s Crunch, Necco Sky Bar, Zero Bar, Heath Bars, Mr. Goodbar (I never went looking for one), Butterfinger I dropped a few), Three Musketeers, Mello Mints, York Peppermint Patty, M&M’s (plain and peanut), Mounds and Almond Joy (both 10 cents, when most others were five), Hershey’s, Hershey’s with almonds, Clark Bars, Chunky (what a chunk of chawklit), 5th Avenue, Baby Ruth, and Oh Henry (all three I obtained only by trick-or-treating), Raisinets, Rollos, and others I can’t recall just now. One of my favorites, Zagnut, wasn’t sold on the island, as far as I know. On the rare occasions when I bought one, it was usually from a vending machine in another city. Zagnuts were made by Clark, which eventually sold it to another company which sold it to Hershey’s. The Hershey’s version is not the same, as far as what they’re calling toasted coconut on the outside. Unlike the Clark bar, a Zagnut has no chocolate coating. Tootsie Rolls alwo were not exactly chocolate. Let’s not forget Sugar Babies, and Reese’s Cups. I’m not sure what my point is here, just nostalgia, I suppose, and I’m sure I left out a few.

Fortunately for the reader, I didn’t even touch the penny candies and gums of both the chewing and bubble variety, although I will mention that my favorites were Teaberry, Juicy Fruit, and Black Jack.

Some are still in production and some can be bought at retro candy sites, but some will probably never reappear, such as Mello Mint.

The Crest Tavern, which is not in the Crest, sort of like how Anglesea Auto Repair isn’t in Anglesea, usually puts out pretty good food. However, I’m learning to not order their specials. My wife and I got burned once before when it had a special on chicken wings. Well, I guess the wings had been in the freezer for awhile, and the taste of freezer burn was evident. Yesterday, I took the bait again and ordered the special of snow crab legs. I got pretty much a whole crab, if you figure two halves make a whole, but I use the term loosely. I don’t expect them to be as big as Alaskan King Crabs, but I expect them to be considerably larger than a blue claw. Well, these were so small it was virtually impossible to get the meat out of some of the extremities. Virtually was a poor choice there. Anyway, when I eat snow crabs I pull out the fibers from the segment I intend to eat, then snap the piece in two, and pull out a large piece of meat. Not this time! The meat was stuck to the shell, so I had to perform some surgery, I guess you could say. I’m not badmouthing the CT, I’m just saying if you go there, maybe don’t order the special they tell you about.

My friend Rocco tells me his family had a Muntz TV. Even more amazingly, he remembered the phone number in the TV ads, POPLAR FIVE OH THREE OH THREE! I had forgotten it until he mentioned it. I think the diddy went something like, “There’s something about a Muntz TV, call POPLAR five oh three oh three.” I guess you would have had to have been there.

Well, it’s almost St. Patrick’s Day, meaning The Vegas Diner will be opening, I suppose. It’s diner food, of course, and I’ve never had anything there that I couldn’t eat. A number of other places will probably open, some of them only on weekends, or Thursday through Sunday. I think I mentioned a place last summer that we decided to eat at on a Monday. The sign on the door said it was open Sunday through Thursday, strange enough in itself for a place that’s dependent on the tourism industry. However, it was closed on Mondays, but they decided not to make it public, I suppose.

Hardly anyone bothered broadcasting the results of the investigation that pretty much establishes that Obama’s birth certificate and draft card were forged, but why should any of that matter, right? They call us “conspiracy theorists,” but is it not a conspiracy for a candidate who becomes president to keep all of his personal and scholastic records sealed? Does it not seem ludicrous that the American public is prevented from knowing anything about this man who was elected President of the United States?

Arpaio’s posse investigated records of flights into Hawaii in 1961, and the entire week of Obama’s supposed birth is missing. That seems very strange. . .

Last night on the news the anchor was talking about Catholic school closings. He said people were trying to save the schools and one idea was to merge two schools together. Hello! He should have stopped at “merge two schools.” What does he think “merge” means?

Using “me” as a subject pronoun is becoming epidemic. “Me and so-and-so did this,” “Me and so-and-so went here.” They also ignore the rules for “myself,” a reflexive pronoun. I hear it on TV shows, on the news, in movies, in advertisements. I suppose me shouldn’t get so hyper about it, but me is the Grammar Guy, so me can’t help Iself. L8R.

Remember when the black and white picture on your TV would start jumping and you’d have to adjust the vertical hold? Or the picture would turn into wide lines at an angle, so you’d have to bring it back with the horizontal hold? Well, that doesn’t happen anymore, but if it did you could just fix it with the remote, without getting out of your chair. And let’s not forget the fine tune, a ring on the outside of the channel selector. Of course, back then, it required getting out of your seat to adjust the volume.

My friend’s father had a Zenith Space Command, meaning a remote control that changed the channels by actually turning the mechanical channel knob. It also turned the TV on and off and adjusted the volume. It worked by a mechanism striking a bar inside the gadget, sending an ultrasound wave to the TV. That’s why some people still call a remote a “clicker.” Whether true or not, it was rumored that you could change channels on one of those TVs by jingling some quarters.

I sometimes watch “American Pickers,” and it’s hard to say who are the nut jobs – Mike and Frank, or the people who hoard junk (called collectors). Some of these people own hundreds of motorcycles, bicycles, and cars, none of which they every actually use, yet they can hardly stand to part with even one of them. Mike and Frank, the pickers, buy mostly old, rusty things that nobody in a right frame of mind would possibly want. Mike and Frank also use very poor grammar.

Does anyone else find it tiresome when people try to sound intelligent without having the actual qualifications? This is prevalent among police officers and witnesses, as well as many TV reporters. For example, a guy last week said, “We proceeded to enter through the door,” when all he had to say was, “We went in the house.” Close proximity is another term I hear a lot. “It was in close proximity to the road.” What’s wrong with, “It was near the road”? Alternatively, you could say, “It was in proximity to the road,” since proximity means nearness.

The use of proceeded is not restricted to entering a building. Persons who like to sound smart use it for many things. “We proceeded to discharge the weapon.” “We proceeded to search the vehicle.” Yeah, right. “We discharged the weapon and we searched the vehicle.” Last night on “Alaska State Troopers,” one of them said that the other “proceeded to arrest the suspect.” Why didn’t he just arrest him?

When I see the same stupid commercial several times during a show it has the same effect as those stupid pop-up ads that cover my entire screen when I’m trying to read something. I run in the opposite direction, that is, I make a note of the product and vow to never buy it unless I need it for survival.

Older cars had some features, good and bad, that newer ones lack. The vent window was a great idea, and I suppose it was dropped primarily due to cost. The headlight dimmer switch used to be on the floor, high up on the left. My VW Beetle was the first car I had that had the dimmer switch on the steering wheel stalk. Eventually, all manufacturers changed to the stalk lever, although Ford at one point got carried away with it. In the early 80s, Ford put the horn on a stalk on the turn signal lever, and to blow the horn, one had to push the turn signal lever in. A really dumb idea!

None of the horn buttons on most of the later-model cars I’ve owned were as easy to use, or as safe as, the old horn rings that sat inside the steering wheel. All one had to do was tap it in any place, and the horn would blow. Of course, this was bad if someone left a dog in the car.

We used to pack a lot of people into vehicles. I remember going to the Steel Pier from Millville with my aunt, uncle, and their youngest son in the front seat while I sat in the back with my other three cousins, one boy and two girls.

So the Leader of the Once Free World has apologized for someone accidentally burning a copy or two of the Koran. The people in Afghanistan have responded by killing a few people each day, including four Americans. Two of them were shot in the back of the head while in their office, and both were officers in the military. It’s incredible that two individuals who went through college and became officers would be shot to death by worthless pond scum! Suicide bombers have also blown up a bunch of other innocent people, and none of those who were killed had anything to do with burning the Koran. The U.S. says it won’t retaliate. Well, retaliation is the first step in stopping all of this BS. We can fight a war over there with no troops on the ground. Bin Laden is gone, and all we have to do is start dropping a few bombs, maybe a hundred or so, and we can start in Mecca.

The idiots in Washington think Saudi Arabia is our friend and ally, but nothing could be further from the truth. The Saudis are at least as bad as the Iranians. The cowards who hijacked the airplanes and flew them into the WTC, the Pentagon, and the ground, were all from Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Yes, drop one right down the center of the mosque in Mecca, with the worshipers walking around in a circle, or whatever it is they do. They’d do it to us, and don’t think for a minute they wouldn’t! It just seems, that, as barbaric as it sounds, until we start killing innocent people over there, they won’t stop killing innocent people anywhere.

People talk about how terrible were the Crusades, not bothering to think that the Crusades never would have happened if the Muslims had not tried to take over the world. They would destroy a Christian church and build a mosque in its place, as occurred in Cordoba, Spain. This is why they called the mosque near Ground Zero the Cordoba Project.

So they wipe out hundreds of Christians and everybody yawns. Our soldiers kill a few civilians in retaliation for an IED explosion and they go to court martial. Does any of this make sense to sane people? Iran once again said it intends to wipe Israel off the map. Sounds like a good reason to wipe out their nuclear facilities. If we don’t do it, Israel will – they’ve done it before.

I fail to see how putting a bunch of limp-wristed people in the military will strengthen it. We had some homosexuals on the ships I was on and they were hardly the pillars of strength. They were more likely to run around shouting in panic during a crisis or to just put a hand on their cheek and say, “Oh, dear!”

Same-sex marriage? There’s no such thing. I see that all the popular dictionaries have added definitions for marriage to also mean two homosexuals getting together. Makes no sense at all. .

Why is Congress sitting around on its collective thumbs while the current occupant of the White House ignores the Constitution and decides to act as a czar, with or without Congress. He and his AG refuse to enforce the Defense of Marriage Act, which was passed by Congress and signed into law. That’s not his call, which is why we have the Supreme Court. He declared a war in Libya without getting approval from Congress, and all Congress did was to tell him to get approval, which he never did. He has ignored an order to allow drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Nobody does anything because I guess they fear that the black people would riot if he were impeached. Well, let them riot!

Meanwhile, GM (Government Motors) which still owes the government $23 billion, had profits of over $9 billion, so they’re giving each of the UAW workers a bonus of about $7,000! The average worker now makes about $116,00 with benefits, and about $58,000 of that is wages. Sounds like quite a gig for unskilled workers.

We’re headed downhill at an alarming rate. . .