The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

I love a good holiday as much as the next yahoo … but c’mon, this Groundhog’s Day business, let’s be honest, the Chamber of Commerce out there in Pullmyleg, Pennsylvania has pulled a fast one on those of us who take meteorologic prediction seriously. Down here on the convergence zoned South End, No Way is a groundhog going to see his shadow on Feb. 2nd. Even if we had groundhogs! This thing just gives Science a bad name. And lately, the last thing it needs in these superstitious, Mayan Calendar, end-of-the-world times is a black eye over some mammalian hairball on the East Coast seeing its hairball shadow (or not) and then extrapolating that to El Nino or asteroid strikes on Wall Street or global warming.
Which is precisely why some of the more empirically minded boyz down at the Mabana Body Shop have been searching, in a deductive sort of methodology, an alternative Predictor of winter longevity. Hellfire, if winter’s just going to last until April, we figure there’s no point in fighting serious incentive-reducing Inevitability. We’ll just pull the covers up, collect unemployment and wait for spring. This is how civilizations thrive: they figure out tides and seasons for planting schedules and harvest times and happy hours.
The model the boyz constructed over the past decade or so is a local paradigm that utilizes a 5 gallon polyethylene bucket of fresh caught Dungeness crabs —- I KNOW you’re going to point out they’re illegal this time of season, but listen, we’re putting em back when the data is collected. Spirit of the Law, if not the Letter and that, in a clamshell is the very essence of the South End Way. —- So you got a pail of clacking claws and now you bring out a dog, any dog, any breed, random sampling, see? And you let the pooch check out the crustaceans. No shadows, no hibernating drowsy marmots. And if the crab gets a lock on Snoopy’s snout, voila, studies have shown that is a true omen of an early spring. The dog schnozz slips the noose, 6 more weeks of sleeping in.
Simple. Like Einstein says, the more elegant the theory, the higher the probability it’s correct. And the boyz down at the body shop will tell you, the accuracy here is in the 90 percentile range, statistically astounding. We’re not claiming, like those unabashed self -promoters in Pennsylvania, that this will predict spring for the entire country, but for all us Left Coasters, rest assured, Feb 2nd now has science as its bedrock foundation. We’ll leave it to the South End Chamber of Commerce how they want to capitalize on it. Crab Dog Day. Nice profitable ring to it, don’t you think, kind of like a cash register. If we can keep PETA at bay….

The man who addicted the world to caffeine says he’s thinking about running for President. Why not? If we can survive a few years with an ignorant but opinionated bullyboy, we can elect just about anybody for another few years. Congress is deadlocked and has been for quite awhile and will be for a lot longer. The government is running on auto-pilot now, the perfect metaphor for an automated future.

Trump ran multiple bankruptcies on his way to announcing he was the Dealmaker of dealmakers. Schultz bought a basketball team and managed to lose the entire franchise when he sold it to an Oklahoma City huckster. Seattle sports jocks will never forgive him, doesn’t matter how much they like his coffee. Schultz thought his managerial experience would shine right through in his tenure as Head Basketball Boy, an egotistical rich guy’s folly, something akin to thinking real estate deals are primers for world treaties. Still, there are plenty of folks out there in Java Land who might think a mocha magnate is worth a shot or even a double.

Me, I’m tired of billionaire politicians. Okay, probably just green with envy. Who wouldn’t want to spend his life on cellphones and in meetings strategizing how to get a hotel built in Moscow or a Starbucks on every corner in Shanghai? If the bizness of America is selling, these guyz ought to be able to run the country like a used car lot in Hoboken, no problem. The trouble is, a lot of government isn’t about capitalism. I know, this sounds like heresy in this new Gilded Age. As executive chairman at STARBUCKS CORP, Howard Schultz made $17,980,890 in total compensation. Of this total $807,693 was received as a salary, $843,750 was received as a bonus, $8,096,499 was received in stock options, $7,893,379 was awarded as stock and $339,569 came from other types of compensation. This information is according to proxy statements filed for the 2017 fiscal year. But take a look at this and then what he paid his employees, then tell me these are the CEO’s we want being President or filling cabinet posts. And the last thing I need is a double shot expresso of that right now.

And yeah, I know, money talks and bullshit walks in corporate America. Although lately it seems like both are doing a lot of talking. Personally I think a politician ought to learn some governing skills, you know, little things like managing a city or maybe even a state, at least do some time in a legislature and learn the ropes. If all you can show on your resume is your big fat bank account, c’mon, you wouldn’t hire yourself as a barista. And you certainly wouldn’t make yourself manager of the joint. Even if you are the damn owner.

Is nothing sacred anymore? Is nothing off limits to scrutiny and derision and possible legislative remediation? These are tough enough times we live in, polarized politics, polarized religion, polarized ethnicity, whatever you do, whatever you say, you’re going to offend someone. And lately, offending folks seems to be the modus operandi judging by the Man in the High Tower’s bullying tweets. Name calling, dog whistles, sneaky slurs, it’s okay nowadays.

So when the psychiatrists came out recently with an announcement that a lot of the males of the species suffer from Toxic Masculinity, I guess it should have been no surprise. But down here on the South End, the news was troubling. The news was downright scary. And I don’t mean just for the women folks. Okay, maybe us high testosterone men come off a little far end of the masculinity spectrum. We don’t cry enough, I admit, but geez, if we let loose our softer side, we’d never get squat done down here in the nettle fields, just fall into weeping spells half the live long day. I mean, you don’t think we see how depressing our lives are? How bankruptcy is just a busted axle or a broken leg away? All that bluster and bragging, it’s just a mask. What are we supposed to do, write a blog? Open up our hearts, show our true feelings? Not sure anyone would like to see that …

Next thing you know, the shrinks will want us to turn in our guns and stop socializing down at the tavern and maybe go to church on Sundays with the mizzus. Give up ESPN and kickboxing, maybe even football. What the ??@#? Is this America? Is this how we make it great again? Is this what we want for the South End, a bunch of crybaby yahoos going to prayer meetings and support groups and sensitivity training and AA meetings, our days spent watching soap operas and Oprah? Where does it end? I’ll tell you where it ends. It ends with slavery, with shackles, with emasculation. It ends, sadly enough, with us men having to get a job. A real job. Not writers and artists, not musicians. J-O-B. Job. What used to be relegated to the mizzus. Boys, I hate to tell you, but change is coming if you don’t fight it. You don’t, you’ll be crying all right. Day and night.

Compassionate conservatism finally reared its tired head this week when Wilbur Ross, the billionaire Commerce Secretary wondered aloud why these government workers forced to work without paychecks were lining up at food banks instead of running down to their local banks and applying for a loan. Trump’s economic advisor, Larry Kudlow, referred to these folks as volunteers. “They honor us. And they do it because of their love for the country and the office of the presidency and, presumably, their allegiance to President Trump.”

Where, you wonder, is Marie Antoinette these days? Have no doubt the peasants of France honored her with their love and allegiance to the King. You know, before they sliced their empty heads off in the blood-soaked streets of Paris. The Trump Court, chock-a-block full of billionaire know-nothings, makes the Parisian Court at Versailles look like a convention of physicists. The only thing sadder than this latest spectacle of insensitivity would be if the French had actually voted for Louis the 16th, hoping he’d honor his promise to bring back the Stone Age to his countrymen. Marie married the little frat boy when he was 15. Melania at least waited until Trump was a bit older. It’s no coincidence that the Trump mansion is decorated in wildly lurid French baroque. Well, maybe Louis didn’t have a gold toilet, just a nice chamber pot. Or a helluva outhouse the peasants could keep clean when they weren’t lining up for royal loans.

My favorite TV attorney of all time is America’s Mayor, Rudy Giuliani. The man gives fresh meaning to the appellation for lawyer, Mouthpiece. Trot him out on Fox every day or so and he has no problem getting both feet in there. Clarification? Of course he’s got a new clarification. Tomorrow he’ll clarify the last one. You have to ask yourself, how did a guy who waded into the Tower debris after 9-11 and become a national hero decide to make a clown of himself in no time flat? The man had it made in the shade.

Apparently he missed the big spotlight, the daily bath in self-praise, the adulation of a nation. So when an even huger narcissist than himself came along, why not hop right up on the stage and play the slobbering sychophant? And … to boot, the mayor is an attorney. A prosecutor. A person with an insight into how Mueller and his team might be strategizing. What more perfect sidekick for the Donald?

It is amazing how Clowntown continues to ram yet another Bozo into the Volkswagen. Sure, some are forced out the tailpipe; okay, most are forced out of the tailpipe, but few are given a public forum that diminishes the Trump’s face time and those few are gone quickly if the Man deems their performance upstaging. Nobody upstages the Donald. Nobody! Well, except maybe Rudy, at least so far and who knows for how much longer. Even the Prez must realize he has the absolute worst, most imbecilic attorney in the entire United States. Better, maybe, to ask for the last hire of the New York Public Defender’s office, plead penury since no one can see his tax records and hope for someone with an IQ above 80 and an attention to detail beyond a third grader.

Although, you have to admit, they make a perfect pairing. Maybe even better than Pence and his ventriloquist. Mueller could probably wrap the investigation up early, just put Rudy on the stand for a couple of days. Sure they’d find Trump guilty of a dozen felonies, but any jury you could imagine would be lenient. Nobody deserves Rudy. Not even Trump.

Today I am announcing that I will not, I repeat, will NOT be running for the Presidency of the United States. And I know what you’re thinking, it’s just a shrewd tactic to make my apparent non-candidacy stand out against that multitude of those who have thrown their hat into the ring. My hat, beat up and bent, will stay firmly on my unbowed head. But believe me when I say if nominated I will not run, if elected I will not serve.

I don’t blame my fellow citizens for viewing this coming 2020 election as a wild card, anything goes, who-knows-what kind of race. If Donald J. Trump can boast about grabbing women’s genitals, can bully and tweet insults and pejoratives, can make the White House a locker room for frat boys and country club clowns, can use the office for financial gain for himself and his family, well, the door is wide open for just about anybody with even an erratic heartbeat and an IQ above that of an orangutan with a comb-over on its simian butt.

95% of the country would qualify as Presidential. And at least half of Congress. The Democratic debates in the fall of two years from now will look like the starting line of the Boston Marathon, maybe enough time to give everyone’s name but not much left for parsing issues of the day. But since they’re all eminently qualified in a post Trump campaign era, I want to make a small suggestion to the folks in the smoke filled rooms who usually handicap these horse races. A Lottery.

Yes, a Lottery. Americans love throwing the dice. They love Wheel of Fortune as much as they love throwing a few bucks every week at the Lotto. Why not start, oh, about a year prior, spin the Giant Wheel with maybe a thousand candidate names, pick a semi-finalist every month, all leading up to the Final Spin, see who will run against Mike Pence. By then Mike’s handlers should have found a semi-talented ventriloquist who can avoid moving his lips and will sit unobtrusively beside him as the Vice Presidential candidate. And yeah, I know, just thinking about an opportunity to debate someone of Mr. Pence’s caliber will bring out even more candidates. Probably as many Republicans as Democrats. Is this country great again, or what?

Yep, it’s tax time again. Being a registered-in-the-state-of-Washington genuine bizness, I have to fill out quarterly taxes. Being self-employed, I have to pay into Social Security that part most folks’ employer contributes. Being a manufacturer (of stained glass windows), I fall under the B&O (bizness and occupation) taxes, unlike, say, attorneys or CPA’s, don’t ask me why.

Actually, go ahead and ask me … because here’s my gripe de jour. The laws taxing us citizens are bullshit. Don’t get me wrong, I pay my taxes and I believe in paying my taxes … for the simple reason that they are what funds schools and libraries, roads and bridges, armies and the Peace Corps. I want to live in a civilized society, not an anarchical jungle of predators, and if that means I have to pay my fair share, I’m happy to do it. What I’m not happy about is paying more than my fair share, and yeah, I know what you’re thinking, nobody thinks they’re paying their fair share. But I live in a country now where Warren Buffet pays less % taxes than his secretary, where CEO’s who make millions and hedge fund managers who make billions pay less than me because they have deductions built into the system and call their money capital gains so it can be taxed half as much. Well, I’m fairly or unfairly certain that the system is rigged in the favor of the rich. Ask Donald Trump. He won’t show you his taxes and for good reason.

A buddy of mine cheats on his taxes. In fact I know lots of folks who cheat on their taxes or don’t pay any taxes at all. My buddy claims I’m a sucker for being so goody-goody two shoes about paying mine when the rich have legalized their grand larceny. “Why would I pay more than they do?” he asks incredulously and honestly, I don’t have a good answer. If the wealthy won’t pay a fair share, what am I thinking? In the America I live in today the rich just got a tax break. Corporations, who the Supreme Court claims are individuals, just got a tax break. After Wall Street drove the economy of the country and the world into the toilet, you think they paid any price whatsoever? You think they felt any guilt? You think maybe they apologized for their greed that caused most of us great suffering? You think one single sonofabitch went to jail? I’m not against tax breaks, but c’mon, when the rich get most of the pie, what’s left for the little guy?

I can tell you I sleep better at night knowing I paid my taxes in full and maybe that’s why my buddy thinks I’m a sucker, duped by the Big Boyz, tossing my nickels into the public coffer they’re raiding. But lately I find myself starting to side with the cheaters. My mom used to tell us kids when we’d complain about neighborhood kids cheating at whatever game we were playing that season, take your marbles and go home. What do you do, though, when the cheaters own your home, collateralized the mortgage and sold it in bundles to the hedge fund managers and then bet that their worth will go down? Good advice, Mom, but only when you’re playing with marbles.

I don’t work for the government so this Shutdown isn’t affecting me directly. Nevertheless, like most of us armchair citizens, I would like to end this game of Chicken as soon as possible. But you know and I do too, this standoff is going to be one long and ugly chapter in an era that will go down in the annals of politics as one of the very worst. Pick a side, there’s plenty of blame to go around and the longer this pissing match goes on, everyone loses. Especially American style democracy. And really, isn’t this what some folks want? Drain the swamp? Downsize government then drown it in the toilet?

Pelosi suggested to Trump that he forget about giving the State of the Union speech to Congress this year. Trump canceled her trip to Afghanistan. Pelosi can counter with Your Mother Wears Army Boots and Trump can throw his lunch hamburger and fries at her. Meanwhile 800,000 folks are furloughed or worse, working without being paid. And there are plenty more who are collateral damage.

Trump won’t budge unless he gets his Wall and the House won’t negotiate unless there’s something to negotiate. The Senate, well, the Senate won’t do anything until McConnell gets a notarized pledge from the Prez that he’ll go along with whatever bargain they come up with. Something tells me this isn’t what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they set up the checks and balances. In some countries this would be the right time for the military to step in and end this constitutional crisis by just skipping the constitution. In our case we’re going to get a food fight.

Every day of this month long shutdown more government workers are being called back to their jobs. Not with pay, mind you, just to hold down the damage. No one thinks this is fair. Some may think this is just a bit of a nuisance, nothing to jump up and shout about, but the longer folks work who can’t pay for daycare or groceries or a mortgage or a car payment or emergency visits, the more it will seem like more, much more, than just a nuisance. When the rich sneer that these people can eat cake if they’re hungry, they’ve started a fire that will make the discontent of the last election look like a wiener roast. The trouble is, we’re all going to get burned.

I just read a poll that found that 84% of us adults believe the world is round. Which, if my math is correct, means 16% of us Americanos aren’t so sure. Might be it’s trapezoidal. The Millenials, those folks 18-24 years of age, clocked in with 66% pretty sure the planet wasn’t flat, but 4 % were convinced it is. More than half of the Flatlanders declared they were ‘very religious’.

NASA was created to keep the truth from ever coming out. Billions were spent to fake a moon landing, photos from outer space were doctored, the government wants to hoodwink us into believing the Earth is round. We’ve been brainwashed! All these years we were taught the early explorers sailed ‘around’ the world when actually they must have circled back to the other side. And now scientists say the planet is warming and the seas will rise up and we need to do something about it before it’s too late! Ha, the water will just run off the edges, don’t you see? Open your eyes!! It’s the researchers and scientists who are trying to protect their jobs at any cost to the rest of us.

What an incredible conspiracy! We were right to send Galileo to the Inquisition for blasphemy. Any fool can walk down the road and feel how flat the surface is. And it must be perfectly level, not tilted, or we would slide right off the edge with all the melted glaciers. It must be pretty thick too; otherwise, how would gravity hold us down? Unless … right! Gravity is a hoax too! Isn’t it obvious?

I remember when the Comet Kehoutek was coming, about 1973, and folks were gathering to board, believing they would be journeying to … well, a better world, or Nirvana, or someplace else anyway. They were True Believers but the comet still didn’t stop to pick them up. The disappointment must have been great, but I suspect it didn’t make them question their assumptions, probably just picked up some folks on Venus by mistake. Next time they’ll get the itinerary down with a little more precision.

It’s tempting to apply these polls to politics, see if there’s any correlation. But you know, and I do too, it’s just fake facts, phony statistics and more government meddling in your life. Best to just ignore this stuff and hope the world keeps spinning … and doesn’t tilt on its side.

It’s the start of the 4th week of the shutdown, what Trump was originally ‘proud’ to own, but now, not so much. He’s trying to sell it to the Democrats, but they’re a little busy setting up subpoenas and investigations to consider the Master Dealer’s offer to sell them swampland. Mitch McConnell is AWOL, probably hiding in a bunker somewhere beyond cellphone reception, so that leaves Lindsay Graham to speak for the Senate. And yeah, it’s a sad day in America.

And going to get a lot sadder, sooner, not later, but probably later too. The Trumpster is cornered. Cohen, his personal attorney will soon be testifying before Congress, taxes will be subpoenaed, Deutsch Bank records will be too, the translator between the President and his hero Putin will be asked for those transcripts when everyone else cleared the room, the walls are closing in. Even Fox News is turning on the guy. Yesterday a Fox interviewer asked him straight out if he colluded with the Russians and why did he meet with Putin alone then hide the transcripts. The chickens are coming home to roost.

Trump is finally lawyering up. 17 attorneys and counting, but let’s not include Giuliani, a disgrace to lawyers of any ilk and trust me, that’s saying a lot. No, Trump realizes it’s Firing Time and there’s really only one candidate for the Ax. So … what will he do? I mean other than Tweet and Rant. He could, for instance, declare a National Emergency for that crisis we got on the border, keep our minds off the investigations. Or he could attack Iran. Wag the Dog!! Or, if today’s tweets are any indication, he could destroy Turkey’s economy if they attack the Kurds in Syria now that he’s announced we’re pulling out and abandoning our most committed allies there. The possibilities are numerous and why pick just one? Trade wars, broken alliances, troop pullouts in Syria and Afghanistan, the man is at his best when he’s changing the subject. Today he was going after Elizabeth Warren’s father. Staying on subject is not the Donald’s strongest suit, but misdirection is.

One thing is certain, nothing is going to get accomplished by this government until Trump is impeached or driven from the White House or just decides it’s high time to decamp and start the Trump News Broadcasting Station. Government is in Shutdown until then.

Personally, I think we got a very real crisis. Inside our own border. Time maybe to declare a National Emergency.