The Demons of Addiction

To all of you who have been so supportive and who’ve followed my writing, you’ll note I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been wanting to get my thoughts on “digital” paper sooner, but it’s taken a bit of time to collect myself.

If what you’re about to read could save one life, then my words and wait are worth it.

My wife and I have endured the ultimate pain: the passing of a child, our daughter.

I’ll be very candid; our daughter was a severe alcoholic. She didn’t want to be and certainly hadn’t planned on it. And as many know, it is sadly more common than it should be. If you are dealing with it yourself or know someone who’s caught in the throes of addiction, you can attest to how powerful it is.

My wife and I finally left the denial phase about ten years ago and accepted that our daughter had been taken hold by the addict demons. As the years passed, she became progressively worse. Her body was destroyed by something many of us do every day: have a glass of wine, beer, a cocktail with dinner. It’s legal but has proven deadly a million times over.

Barely a day goes by that we don’t hear about a celebrity, musician, or Hollywood actor, who has died of an overdose. But there are thousands of others who die silently and become nothing more than ten-point type before quietly fading away.

Not to their families, however.

Our daughter would have been fifty this year. During the last ten years of her life, she didn’t live. Alcohol had grabbed her so fiercely it was all that mattered.

As parents, we tried everything. We sent her to rehab. Got her medical help when she accepted it. Eventually though, we ran out of ideas. The reality was and is and always will be: it’s up to the addict. We heard this truth from everyone involved in the terrible world of addiction. Our daughter would tell us as much herself.

When I was given pushback for trying to help and suggesting AA or another program, she said she could fix it herself. This angered me. I would step back and not talk to her for months at a time. I didn’t know what to say or do anymore. Then guilt would take hold, and I would reach out again.

When she was sober, my heart was joyful; I loved talking with her about Disneyland and her plans to buy a new condo in Palm Springs someday. Over the years she lived with us for months at time trying fix herself and we were grateful for that effort. Only to drive home and start in again before the sun set.

The cycle continued. Not hearing from her for days or even a week at a time sent up the red flag. The countless nights I lay awake picturing her suffering alone in her apartment, thinking that tonight was the night it would end. I couldn’t ignore it. I would call the police for a wellness check. She lived a hundred miles away and I had to rely on others.

Most times, she answered the door and told the police she was fine and that they should leave her alone. The police said they knew she was drinking but couldn’t do anything about it. Then there were those times I had the police break in where they would find her clinging to life.

After numerous times in the hospital and barely surviving, I thought she had reached the bottom and would turn her life around. It never lasted. Despite after each visit, when the doctors would tell her, “If you drink again, you will die.”

I had lost all sympathy. I became emotionally numb.

The offers of help from her mother were continuously turned down as well. I was angry at the alcohol. Angry at the liquor store that would deliver it to her front door. And furious at the reason why she became an alcoholic in the first place. A reason I don’t want to write about. It wouldn’t change things anyway.

My wife and I struggle with the usual question. Could we have done more? Our answer is no. We exhausted all options. I have no guilt that we didn’t do all we could.

What is really taking its toll is knowing how much she had been suffering. The depression. The internal battle to stop drinking and her inability to stop. And how helpless we were in fixing that.

Our daughter was very educated. She had a PhD in clinical psychology. Ironically, she started her career helping addict veterans who were also fighting PTSD. A noble cause and we were so proud of her. She was super intelligent and that played against her.

There aren’t enough adjectives to describe how my wife and I feel.

Our daughter died alone.

No friends, no family, not even her dog, which we had been taking care of.

During one of our last conversations, she said she would pick up her precious Bean at Thanksgiving. There won’t be another Thanksgiving for her. Bean is now our dog and our connection to our little girl.

For all of you who have suffered a similar loss or have someone close going through this, don’t give up.

You must hang on to hope.

When word reached friends and family of her passing, there was such an overwhelming outpouring of love. It was powerful and wonderful. And it reinforced our knowledge that all the things we think are important are not important all.

Mankind is full of good, beautiful, human beings and for that my wife and I will be forever grateful.

Whether you believe in God or are religious or not; at times like these you do need to find some solace somewhere when asking yourself, “Why?”

A long-time friend summed it up; God called her back home.

I’m going with that.

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I’m trying to make sense of this communist uprising infecting American politics.

Mark Twain has been noted as saying, “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than open it and remove all doubt.”

This socialist movement is promising the world and saying things that are completely irrational. They’re not removing doubt the…

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I’ve been a staunch Republican conservative since I watched Ronald Reagan at the Republican National Convention on July 17, 1980. That’s the moment when I realized I believed in common sense.

One of my worst nightmares is to wake up some morning and realize I had been infected and reverted to not thinking for myself again.

So, the following words are goin…

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It was 53 years ago when my wife and I went to Las Vegas for our honeymoon. Not the most romantic destination, but the closest and cheapest since we had no money. My father knew someone and got a us a deal at the Dunes, a hotel that people under fifty, maybe older, never heard of and one that long ago has since been imploded. Just like the famous Rat Pa…

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It’s been said during the Civil War as many as 750,000 white men gave their lives in large part to end slavery. That’s the equivalent to the population of Seattle, Denver, or Nashville.

Ancient Egypt, Greece, Africa, all throughout Europe practiced slavery. Still do. Brazil imported a larger number of African slaves than America.

There’s a form of “slaver…

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As an old boxer (which I’m not) might say, “I’ve decided to throw in the towel.” I’m going to go all in and will vote Democrat to support the party’s new socialist movement.

“How nice it would be,” I told myself, “to no longer worry about wanting to live the American dream.”

No more pressure.

For example, owning a home is overrated. I won’t have to worry a…

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A recent poll shows pride in America has fallen off. Not something to be proud of for our upcoming birthday. It’s primarily the Democrats, less than 30%, which is no surprise since many have veered so far off course from American values.

Socialists are taking over the Democrat Party and that crowd really hates America.

We’ve all been watching who would be…

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We Have Become a Nation of Slobs

Angry fellow human beings are saying things I never would have thought would be uttered so openly in public.

They’re admitting they have no problem with murder.

Apparently, it can be justified.

They’re declaring it’s okay to execute someone or something they don’t agree with. They brazenly condone assassination if it advance…

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“Okay students. Settle down. We have a lot to get through today.”

The college professor was an AI image on a 50-foot Tron. The classroom comprised images of the students attending on screens around the perfectly coifed brunette instructor dressed in a dark blue pant suit. An image of human perfection.

The “professor” continued, “Thank you all for signing up for this all-important recount of a time in America’s history where; to put it bluntly, the country had lost its mind for about ten years. Four years in particular.” The female image transitioned to a male and added, “I have been programmed to insert some bias and emotion in my class to further advance my points. What I’m about to communicate is well documented and many who lived during those dark days are still shaking their heads in disbelief even today.”

The male image paused and watched everyone lean in to listen.

“It was the year 2020. No one could have foreseen how so many diverse forces would collide simultaneously. It began with a global pandemic. I’m sure many of you are fully aware of COVID 19 and when it made its first appearance. It began in China and spread around the globe in a raging fury. The political argument to hide its true source suggested it came from a bat, a pangolin. Nearly all reputable health organizations refused to admit it leaked from a Chinese lab. A lab that the very person who had been given full power to decree American policy concerning the virus was also involved in was in pursuit of enhancing the effect of the virus to make it more dangerous.”

The AI was female again, walking back and forth in front of a simple oak desk, hands behind its back. Then stopped and stared straight ahead. Boring her deep blue eyes directly through her students. “Anyone who disputed the storyline was chastised, lost their jobs, cancelled, and black balled. Their lives threatened.”

“Anthony Fauci kept preaching it was the science and demanded everyone take an experimental vaccine and guaranteed it was perfectly safe. Many refused. Thousands subsequently did lose their jobs; including health care workers, military, first responders and those in multitudes of careers because it didn’t stop at the virus, it infected minds and removed all common sense.

A “New Weapon” Emerges

“Politicians, nearly all what they called ‘Democrats’ at the time, used the virus as a Machiavellian weapon. You were not allowed to worship in a church, and in many cases not even outside, but you could watch women disrobe in strip clubs. Small businesses had to close their doors with no means of financial support while large box stores remained open with hundreds of people walking around. Masks became mandatory everywhere and quickly became a political issue.

You were forced to maintain six feet of separation from each other no matter where you went.”

A number of gasps emanated from the students.

“Yes, according to Fauci’s science, staying six feet apart would protect you. I know, stupid, right? Schools were shut down, in some cases for nearly two years. Health clubs were shuttered but ‘Democrat’ politicians would sneak off on vacations or out to restaurants while everyone else became prisoners in their homes.”

The image morphed into two, a Hispanic male and black female both speaking in perfect unison.

America’s Cities In Flames

“If that wasn’t enough. A drug addict and small-time criminal was pulled over by police. When asked to step out of the car, the individual resisted arrest. That irresponsible action released a chain reaction of events that quite literally set the United States on fire. George Floyd was wrestled to the ground where he accidently died. The optics were not good and because President Barack Obama had reconstituted racism, a white police officer was charged with murder. Some in the black community along with anarchists, using the financial help of dark money, systematically burned down cities and murdered dozens. The chaos went on for months and became a license to attack anyone white. Even while eating in restaurants. A very biased media labeled the turmoil as “The summer of love.” The reverse racism was ignored.

“Democrat politicians made things worse by siding with the rioters and joined in taking a ‘knee’ for the cause. The unhinged infection spread into sports, television, and the media. And a new era labeled, Diversity, Equity and Inclusion – DEI – cloaked the American landscape.

Pregnant Men, Children’s Testicles Removed, Parents in Jail

“Merit no longer held any value. The color of a person’s skin, gender, and sexual preference, became the new measurement.

“Children were having their genitals removed and you couldn’t inform the parents. Children were being mutilated. Parents were imprisoned because they merely wanted to retain their rightful authority over their children.”

The AI professor blended into a single Asian man. It stopped talking allowing the students to catch their breath and absorb what they had just been told.

“It didn’t stop there; it was propounded that men could have babies and that there existed a multitude of genders. We’ll go into those another time. No longer was it just male and female. In fact, men were allowed to compete against women in sports. Obliterating science that men by nature are physically stronger than women.”

The image blended back to the original brunette and displayed a very subtle, what might be considered a touch of emotion.

“Class, these are just some of the highlights that had occurred during a transitional period for America. Over the coming weeks of this course, I will go into more detail how some Americans were unable to function properly because of a vehement hatred for President Donald Trump. And the divide it created.

“Your assignment for next week is to research what impact the Biden administration had on the country when the southern American border became non-existent. Millions of people had been allowed to enter America, unimpeded. It cost taxpayers $150 billion a year to support all the illegal immigrants. A lot of money in those days. The subsequent attempt to send them back to their homes launched another abnormal period in American history.

“As an old saying goes, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

“See you all next week.”

The Tron went black. The faces around the screen appeared stunned.

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I had written in a previous column when, at eighteen, I had driven across the country in a VW bug with no heater in the middle of winter.

My wife and I recently completed a near full cross-country journey from Solvang to Paducah, Kentucky. This time in a full-size pickup with heater and AC. Camping in our RV trailer. You may ask why? I did too. My wife is an avid and excellent quilter and Paducah holds an annual massive quilt event.

I swore I would never drive a long trip like that again, but she wanted to give it a go. Nearly three weeks of road-tripping for a two-day visit seemed a lot. Am I complaining? Well kind of. It’s one thing when you’re 18, quite another when in your 70s.

And rather than fight the cold of winter this time, we had to dodge tornadoes. I’ll take my chances with an earthquake any day.

Always looking for the positive, I put together a montage of our encounters along the way. I call it “tidbits” because for the most part they were brief, but it opened windows to people across this great and vast land. And I’m only touching on a few of them.

KOA Comfort

When we pulled into our KOA campground in Albuquerque, we were exhausted. There was no place to eat within walking distance. I didn’t want to unhook the truck for our one-night stay. The campground suggested an Italian restaurant would deliver to our site. I called and the young man that answered was super kind and helpful. He said our meal would be delivered in sixty minutes. He arrived on the dot. He was very pleasant and cheerful. We talked for a bit, and I tipped him $25. You would have thought it was a thousand dollars. He kept thanking us and said it made his day.

Their food made our day, it was fantastic.

The 4-½ Pound Burger

Our next stop was in Amarillo, Texas. The campground shuttled us to their restaurant down the street. The Big Texan Steak House. Holy cow, and I mean cow. This place was the Disneyland of restaurants. The décor was right out of an old Western saloon but massive. And the steaks were enormous. If you could eat their 72-ounce steak in under one hour it was free. I took a photo of that thing.

It wasn’t normal.

Our waitress was a bit aloof, but I never let something like that go. I engaged her every time and asked where she was from. Before long she softened. She was from Las Vegas. Her parents moved to Texas, and she loved where she ended up.

I made a commitment to myself a few years ago to engage everyone I met. To leave a good impression, even if it was just a smile.

We departed as friends.

Thunderstorm Central

One of our first experiences with spring weather in the Midwest was at a campground outside Tulsa, Oklahoma. Upon checking in I was told to keep my ears open for security in case we had to get to the shelter. Shelter! She said they were expecting “some” weather. I sat outside before it got dark and things looked okay to me. Holy poop stain! It wasn’t an hour later the sky unleased rain like I’ve never seen. The wind blew so hard trees were laying sideways, and the trailer was rocking back and forth. Then the thunder and lightning arrived with a vengeance. I couldn’t sleep. I kept looking out the window waiting for security to make the call. There was enough rain that night alone to take care of California for five years. If California had a place to store it. Next morning, blue skies. Like nothing ever happened.

On Stage in Branson

Our next stop was Branson, Missouri where we slowed down for a couple days. I equate Branson to kind of like a mellow Midwest Las Vegas without the casinos. We attended a couple shows. One was a country comedy variety show. During intermission the actors made themselves available at the front of the stage. I engaged in conversation, as I always do. You can be in Montana, Florida or Missouri, the country is bursting with amazing people. During the second act I was called on stage to be roasted. The lead man told the audience we had driven out from California, and I must have lost a bet or something. When asked where I came from the second comedian looked at me and said he knew the place. As we were leaving the theater the comedian called out my name. He was from southern California and knew Solvang well. He and his wife used to always visit. We had an enjoyable conversation and departed as new friends.

Pulling Into Paducah

At our destination, Paducah, Kentucky, there was a BBQ guy set up next to our camp site. First night I went over and sat on the bench with him. For the next three days we grew to know each other. He was a well-known local BBQ chef and was good! I ate three nights in a row; pulled pork, ribs, brisket. His wife would join him and along with my wife, as well as other campers, would sit with them for hours.

I’m going to miss Mark and Nora.

A Hundred Miles From Nowhere

The most fearful and yet most wonderful experience occurred on one of the most desolate roads I’ve ever driven in America; highway 57 from Dodge City, Kansas to Santa Fe, New Mexico. I’ll admit I was stressed out every day filled with “What ifs?” Well, the What if happened. Somewhere on Mars, the trailer had a blowout. As far as you could see there was absolutely nothing. No buildings, no trees, no shrubs. Just dry dirt. The tire iron from my truck didn’t fit the trailer lugs. I was stranded. The few cars that drove by just kept on going. Then a pickup truck swung back around. Two gruff looking men, dressed in well-worn dirty overalls approached us. I went on high alert.

“Do you need any help?” They asked.

“All I can get.”

After assessing my predicament, they said they’ll be right back. And true to their word, some twenty minutes later they returned with a hydraulic jack and impact wrench. Five minutes later the spare was on. I pulled out cash; they said no. Pass it along.

If I never believed in angels before, Ben and Charles, father and son cattle ranchers, were truly angels. If it had not been for them, we could still be there. I’ve never felt more blessed and that lucky in my life.

Ben and Charles affirmed my belief that America is a great land with great people.

Moral of the Story

Love your country. It’s wonderful place to be a part of and is filled with wonderful people. I have sympathy for the marchers and America haters who need to remind themselves of just how good they have it. How good we all have it.

There’s so much to be thankful for and a lot of good people to be thankful with.

•••

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On my recent journey across the country, I can firmly report California is viewed as one big nut case.

These common-sense states have something you will also never see in California: Trump stores. Retail stores filled with everything Trump, sweatshirts, hats, bobble heads, flags and more. Tons of things patriotic. And the stores are busy.

I told the store owner we had just traveled from California and her face lit up. She said, “Wait right there. I have something for you.” She returned with a red baseball cap that read, “Make California Great Again.” She handed it to me and said it was a gift. It was the sixth one she gave away that day. I said my home state can use all the help it can get.

When I left, I paid $8.00 a gallon for diesel. Three states over, diesel was in the low $4’s. The people I spoke with were complaining about $4.00 a gallon and I told them we would love to be paying that. We’ve been paying that and much more for years.

I encountered people who had never visited the loony state. They said they weren’t even interested. Peel away all the crazy environmentalists, the whacky woke, the progressive nut case leftists and one-state party rule that have plunged California on life support and it’s a very pretty place.

Sweet Land of Liberty

After driving for days when all you can see is well, nothing. No mountains, no hills and in many cases no trees, California is blessed with the largest trees on the planet, the highest mountain in the low forty-eight and the lowest point in the land. From beautiful beaches to magnificent mountains covered in lakes and pine trees. And yet people are fleeing what the first settlers thought to be paradise. And it can be again.

We have a slim chance to try and right the ship as they say. Two Republicans are holding their own to become governor. The problem is they make sense and say things that a are logical and offering great plans to work toward healing the open sores of California.

Democrats can’t get a handle on that.

The morons on the left will continue to vote for rinse and repeat out of hatred while we morons with common sense have always let them.

Can a Republican governor go head-to-head with liberal legislators who are determined to keep defecating in their backyard? We saw what happened to Arnold Schwarzenegger. He was stripped of his manhood trying to go against the liberal machine. Eventually he became one of them and now identifies as a eunuch.

Maybe, just maybe, a guy like Steve Hilton or Sheriff Chad Bianco can make the dramatic changes that need to be done to end the insane gas taxes and the squandering of billions of dollars on the homeless industrial complex. Perhaps one of them can start up oil production and allow the state to become self-sufficient and powerful again.

In other words, Make California Great Again.

Of Thee I Sing

We have the resources, and we have good bones. Democrats have always claimed to be there for the little people. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Their policies are decimating the poor. I can afford to pay extra for gas. It’s another story for those who work at McDonald’s or myriad other lower paying jobs. Even a fireman friend who lives in Orcutt but works in Santa Barbara is now paying $80 to fill his truck every time to drive to work. It’s not a Trump problem; it’s a moronic California problem. All the taxes imposed on fuel have done squat. Our roads should be like glass, instead it’s a game of dodging potholes. Not all roads in the country are perfect but certainly much better overall and they’re not reaming the taxpayers an extra $2.00 a gallon to line someone’s pockets with false promises of saving the planet.

You would think California leading the country with the highest fuel costs would be an eye opener for the cultist climate-clouded left, but no. Trump used federal authority to allow offshore oil drilling again and surprise, surprise, the hippies are suing Sable to stop from helping Californians. Their mind-numbing obsession against dinosaur goo causes their brains to hemorrhage. They put their own lunacy ahead of the populace.

I apologized to people east of us before I answered them when asked where I was from (tongue in cheek). Some of the Californians who have fled the crazy poop coop were infected with wokeness and TDS and feel the need to contaminate their new communities. You would think their new neighbors would have none of it, and many places don’t, but then look at Texas. A state that had been blood red since forever has been infected with liberalitis and is swinging in the wrong direction.

Morons, and I mean that in the kindest way.

The thing is the entire country is filled with morons. Again, I’m not excluding myself.

Land Where Our Fathers Died

We’re celebrating 250 years by electing socialists and communists across this great land.

What the heck are we doing?

The men behind writing the Constitution – love them or hate them – were super smart and covered most of the bases. I don’t believe that back in 1776, Jefferson, Hancock, or old Ben Franklin thought there would be politicians determined to undermine everything they tried to protect, that the Constitution could be infected with political smallpox.

We morons better get our act together and stop the crazies from destroying what makes us the greatest country on the planet.

If the lunatics gain control of the House, and God forbid, the Senate, the wheels on this bus are going to go round and round in reverse.

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Suffering Through the Biden Regime

The Twilight Zone (those old enough to remember) had a famous opening to the show. Rod Serling, the host, would say in his deep mysterious tone, (there were variances of the opening) “You are about to enter another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imaginat…

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I was trying to hold back my gag reflexes as I was writing checks to the government. Giving them my money in the form of taxes. Why am I even still paying them?

The story of Zorro helping the oppressed in early California, or Robin Hood stealing from the rich to give to the poor were both based upon the peasants, us, paying too much tax. Something famili…

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Long Live the King

I’m wondering when King Charles visits the Donald at the White House, will all the used signs be reconstituted and marchers gather yet again to protest “no kings?” Will the protestors march outside Christian places of worship on Easter as Christians celebrate the rising of the King of the Jews?

In some respects, we all live in our own b…

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Santa Barbara lays claim to being the birthplace of Earth Day. Just a heads up: every day is Earth Day. The “earth-savers” love nothing more than to put on a display and show how they care more than anyone else about the world upon which we all walk.

I think old SB has perhaps the largest concentration of wannabe environmentalists clustered in one place. Though there are certainly other coastal cities that would take exception. Santa Cruz could be one.

Recently, the same enviro gang re-emerged to exhibit their distaste for, guess who, Donald Trump, for reopening oil drilling off the coast of Santa Barbara and moving the stuff through the evil pipeline. I don’t know where they find their toys, but this group created a black tube depicting an oil pipeline inscribed with all the usual platitudes.

What I would like to know is how many filled up their cars to drive to the beach to protest? And, if they had electric cars, I’d like to know how using coal plants in Utah to charge those cars makes it okay. And before they left their houses, they charged their phones, turned off the lights and the coffee pot. After their procession through the sand, perhaps they converged on a restaurant that used natural gas to fire the stoves and ovens, electricity to keep the AC running so they could cool down from all the excitement.

Back home they flipped on the lights, turned on their own AC if they have it (t’s been hot; climate change, you know), and sat down to watch the local news, beaming with pride showing the public how much they care about the environment.

The truth is none of those marching could go a couple days without power. Wind wouldn’t do squat and solar is great during a sunny day, but it won’t put gas in the car or charge your EV enough to drive to another No Kings march.

It’s well known by now, but bears repeating. These self-absorbed environmentally concerned individuals close their eyes to the reality that all their luxuries are provided courtesy of filthy oil-filled tankers waddling across the oceans. The recovery processes in the country where the oil comes from is, let’s just say, not as Earth-friendly as it would be if it were drilled in, say, California. But then, the enviros couldn’t chest thump about what a clean and virtuous state California is.

Iran isn’t blowing up windmills. The world will come to a crawl if dinosaur sludge stops flowing. Meanwhile, California continues with its stupid-is-as-stupid-does nonsense suing the Trump administration yet again. California liberals are determined to remain morons just to keep things as expensive as possible.

While the rest of the country is panicking that fuel prices are getting up to $4 a gallon (some states were bragging about below $2), Californians wished for years it was down to four dollars.

I want to see the Earth Day crowd go to rallies on donkeys and pick up the polluting poop along the way. Even little Greta Thunberg has moved on from climate change to “Free Palestine” to Serbian corruption protests.

It’s whatever the flavor of the month is that gets under the skin of activists to keep finding paint and cardboard to whip up more signs.

For the moment the dust has settled a bit over ICE, but there remain strong embers ready to explode into flames as soon as the next round of exporting criminals’ fires back up.

All these people are on the wrong side of common sense.

The left continues digging their Birkenstocks in the sand demanding it’s their way or no way. The result? The poor must suffer on their behalf by way of sky-high fuel costs, exorbitant rents, and trying to create extremely costly energy sources from out of thin the air.

I’m not against new forms of energy to keep Mother Earth healthy. I just think there needs to be a level of honesty and a pause in the hypocrisy for all the “causes.” I ask myself, why don’t we see these silly displays in Nebraska, Missouri, or Arkansas?

The answer is simple; most people work for a living. Away from the coasts live the Americans who keep America’s heart beating strong. They don’t have time for silliness.

They’re the ones who put the steak or hamburger on your plate. Or if you’re a vegan, the corn and the grain used to make bread or granola bars. They provide the milk for your cereal.

Those are the real environmentalists. They nurture and take care of the land. Their lives and livelihoods depend on it. For them, Earth Day truly is every day. They’re not marching against the oil that keeps their tractors running, or the fertilizer required to make the plants grow. They don’t look for accolades or a “Thank You” for doing their part to protect the planet. Because it goes without saying. They’re just doing their job. They get up in the morning, put their head down and get to work.

I can only venture a guess when they settle down at night to catch a little news and see a bunch of people screaming about this or that they shake their heads. Probably grateful they don’t have to put up with such irresponsible behavior.

They’re exhausted and need rest to do it all over again the next day.

The self-appointed Earth watchers are all the same actors rotating roles in the same movie.

Time to change the script.

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I recently flew to Bozeman, Montana to visit my grandson. It was 80 degrees when we left Solvang and 20 degrees up there. For a couple days winds reached over 90 mph. However, weather is not the only difference.

My first exposure to Montana was 55 years ago. I was eighteen. A friend and I bought a used VW bug for $400. It had no heater. We drove across the country to Washington, DC, in January! We didn’t pay attention to things like weather. We were kids. We encountered one of the worst ice storms in years.

We had to keep two tires off the edge of the highway so we could maintain some traction and wouldn’t slide off the road. Semi-trucks would fly by and splash slush on our tiny windshield. The miniature wiper blades barely kept it clean enough to see where we were going. We were wrapped in blankets nearly freezing to death. Our AM radio picked up nothing. We had no such thing as a cell phone or GPS.

We had a map.

We also had little money and no credit cards. We saw signs along the road where farmers and homeowners rented garages and sheds for $2.00 a night. That was luxury, sleeping with the mice. Even worse, we wanted to enjoy a beer (yes, we were only 18) after our harrowing day on the open road and discovered there were places that were called dry counties.

It was devastating.

To this day I’m still amazed we managed to pull it off and survive.

We spent six months in the District of Columbia where we studied to become dental technicians. We finally had enough of the foreign land of the east.

Right Back Where We Started From

So once again these two stupid surfer kids headed back to California taking the northern route this time. This put us square in the middle of a late massive blizzard in Montana. The landscape looked like huge piles of marshmallows. And of course, Murphy’s law arrived. The Bug hit a rut and the front axle broke. I can’t recall how we managed to get to a small town with one sketchy hotel, a church, a coffee shop and a bar. We had to wait four days for the roads to open back up and get the part to fix the VW. During our stay we went back and forth from the hotel room to the bar. We discovered Lone Star beer. I know, it’s a Texas beer, but at least it wasn’t a dry county.

Once back on the road we made a beeline for Washington state to visit my buddy’s old girlfriend who ended up shunning him. We said screw it and drove eighteen hours straight back to Santa Barbara.

One thing for certain, Montana is not California. Even though Bozeman is now being nicknamed Bozeafornia.

It was quite a treat in a Walmart to see a man open-carrying a handgun on his hip while checking out with his young daughter in the cart. No one gives it a second thought or bothers paying any attention to such a thing. And you won’t be pulling any crap on the guy either. And that’s as it should be. It isn’t the dads, the farmers, the honest folks who do the killing. And it isn’t a gun that comes to life to do the shooting. It’s crazy people who over the years liberals have felt sorry for and either don’t send to jail or let them out of prison to rape and kill again.

In Montana you can get a permanent plate for vehicles over 11 years old. No more registering again, ever. California not only charges a fortune for registration, but we keep paying more every year. Compounded further because we pay even more for our cars to get smog checked on top of it all.

Another money-making joke.

When we went shopping or out to dinner, I kept noting things were cheaper. No sales tax. There isn’t a tax a California Democrat hasn’t created to squeeze the people for more money. They keep coming up with taxes on top of taxes and yet they still don’t have enough and can’t balance a budget. Fraud numbers are running over $48 billion. and I bet its tons more. Expose these thieves, Nick Shirley.

Our state won’t do it.

Opening Up the Pipeline

You can bet the Democrats are loving the Iranian conflict because it gives Newsom and company cover to raise gas prices even higher. They’ll never take responsibility for their idiocy and ineptness. It will also increase the state’s tax coffers giving the Democrats even more money to piss away. Making life that much more difficult in a state with good weather but corrupt, incompetent politicians.

However, there is a glimmer of hope for the state. Trump flexed his presidential muscles and ordered offshore drilling and oil delivery to resume off the Santa Barbara coast. Of course, the enviros are having a conniption fit; the sky is falling. The downside is that it bails out Newsom where he can have it both ways. Get the much-needed oil production he knows the state requires while at the same time fight it and look like an oily hero to the hippies.

I almost feel sorry for Montana and other states getting overrun. I spoke with an older woman waitressing. She said she had to work again, earning entry level wages, because things had gotten so expensive. Others said the same thing.

Maybe it’s time for states like Montana to put up a border wall and keep out the riff raff. Neighboring Idaho has been a lost cause for years.

The Moral of the Story

California is a beautiful place. It’s the people who have been running it who screwed it up.

Something must change.

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This has been the longest dry spell for me that I can ever recall. I usually have half a dozen columns swirling through my head. Some completed sitting on my desktop for further review. Others waiting to be finished.

These past weeks I’ve been unable to write anything.

Why?

That’s what I’ve been asking myself every day.

As soon as I start to approach writing a national or world topic, the situation changes. I can’t ever recall seeing such a flurry of activity going on all at once. Massive fraud, the Epstein saga, Maduro, Iran, and every step of the way Democrats take the wrong side.

Yet that shouldn’t be enough to make my mind go blank. So, I opted for a bit of rambling.

We all have personal things we deal with. Our own demons or family problems. A lot of the times for many it’s financial. You combine external, political, and personal, things swirling in your head and you can become that deer in headlights.

That’s where I am right now.

And I know I’m not alone. Many, if not all of you are or have been in similar situations.

No matter how hard you try to compartmentalize and move forward, your head can be clogged to such a degree, it’s impossible to clear it.

As Americans, we’ve got it made. Plenty of energy to keep the lights on, gas to warm the homes, grocery stores filled with everything we can possibly ever need, and freedoms other countries can only dream about.

So why do we worry so much? Why are so many people on anti-depressants, take calming drugs, drink alcohol and require therapy to get through their daily lives?

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I am now a senior citizen.

Have been for quite a while.

Three giveaways: my hair is as white as snow; I really enjoy reading my AARP magazine; I eat dinner at four.

I feel fortunate to have lived 72 years and honestly, I’m quite surprised that I have. As a teenager I was a pot smoking, beer drinking, surf punk. I got married two weeks past my teens. I was …

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I’ve been tinkering with a political hypothesis. I don’t want to label it a conspiracy theory because that could be taken as not being true.

My wife and I will be celebrating 53 years of marriage this summer. I reminded her the other day how we met as teenagers and now, we’re senior citizens.

When we were young(er) we went on a couple cheap cruises. Each …

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I had written in the past how my life was threatened because of expressing my opinion. The intolerant left hates when you don’t agree with them. So much so, they’re willing to kill over it.

The upside is that it got me a Concealed Carry Weapons permit (CCW) in a county where they’re as rare as a red-legged frog.

I love having the right to carry arms. Howe…

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