Archive for the ‘ Parallel Universe ’ Category

This ‘n’ That

Alabama’s Mrs. Roy Moore is standing by her man though all the allegations.  She’s claiming ‘witch hunt’, she’s calling the accusers liars with pants afire.

In reality she’s doing what any loving wife would do if A. she was uninformed, or B. refuses to believe the allegations or C. knows a truth we do not know.

I think she’s Refusional; yeah, I’ve invented a word, coined a phrase; but that’s exactly what she is. At first I thought she was uninformed, hoodwinked, ballyhooed, or delusional, but nope…she is seemingly refusing to face that fact that she’s married to Pervy McPervperv, and she’s standing by her man!

It seems to me that Roy should go.  Go for the good of the party, the good of the state of Alabama, the good of the nation, and the good of mankind.  It seems to me (and I have followed several news and media outlets on this) that Roy’s past is checkered.

So Mrs. Moore, for whom I have great sympathy, needs to encourage him to drop out. Work to exonerate himself and come back with a clean slate.

If he can.

Or, then again, maybe she’s right.  It all may be a witch hunt.

But I doubt it.

That was that, now this…

As to Al Franken, there are pictures.  He’s apologized, which doesn’t eradicate the bad behavior.  The ethics investigation will be yet another Congressional sham and waste of money, he’ll keep his seat (especially if Roy gets elected and the Senate seats him,) and he’s one of the few who are getting a pass from many of my SJW friends simply because he is on their side politically. I won’t belabor his many aggressions.

Can’t touch that!

Wrong is wrong, don’t hate me for it. (Insert hate mail here.)

Al should go, he should never have been there in the first place.

But he too should go, and work to exonerate himself and he too should run again with a clean slate.

As to the elephant in the room, The POTUS and all the charges railed at him and his recent reaction; glass houses, stones, something like that. Yes, you need to work on that Mr. President.

But, what really chaps my ass is that the US Congress has a slush fund of sorts and has paid out $15 million in hush money, penalties – to sweep the allegations of sexual harassment and sexual misconduct by OUR congressional leaders under the rug.


This is our money they are using.  Granted, it’s under $20 a head if you break it down to the US Population, but hey, it’s my $20!  Stop using it to protect sexual aggressors.

Oh, and there’s a “watch list” too.  As in a new hire comes on board in DC to work in the Capitol only to be told, “Hey, watch out for the esteemed gentleman from _________ (insert YOUR state here), he’s a little handsy.


He’s a PREDATOR; why isn’t someone in the sieve we call Washington leaking that?

Also, any representative who approves of this is guilty by association and is complicit in the behavior.

Clean house!  And Senate too!

There is an UP side however.  Folks (with the exception of Paul Begala on CNN) are finally coming to realize that they can no longer be refusional when it comes to the past behavior of President Bill Clinton.


Maybe; but could it really have been?  She worked for him.  He was a man in power, er, the most powerful man in the world.  AND HE DID IT AT WORK!

If he’d taken all that UP to the family residence like JFK did, it would have been another matter.  Still wrong, still skanky, and still cheaty, but a private matter.


Try that stuff at Wal-Mart, CNN, or ___________ (insert your place of employment here) and see what happens.

Suddenly, she’s rich, the company has major clean UP to do, and your Christmas card list just got a little shorter!

Oh, “How’s coming to grips with Bill’s sins the UP side,” You ask.  I think we may actually be done with the Clintons. ‘Bout time, huh?

Have a great Monday…I am!

Here’s a little music to start your day!

House Rules

Seems Prince Charles , though he longs to be King, is in no hurry to move into Buckingham Palace when it’s his time to do so.


Apparently, it’s a dump.

If so, it certainly puts on a good face, er façade.

The place wasn’t always the home front for the British Royal Family, heck, it hasn’t even always been a palace at all.

It was originally the love child of the Duke of Buckingham.  He built it as a townhouse and called it Buckingham House.

King George III – the one who lost the colonies – bought the place in 1761 for £21,000 for his wife and Queen, Charlotte.  He of course made it even more grand by adding several new wings and an inner courtyard.

After his death, his extravagant, overbearing, spoiled son and heir, George IV went decorator crazy and gilded the place!

Queen Victoria, the current monarch’s great great grandmother was the first monarch to take UP residence in the place full time and even she didn’t really want to!

The façade of Buckingham Palace we have come to know as the face of the Monarchy wasn’t even there until Victoria’s husband Albert designed it in 1847.

Queen Elizabeth II resides there as her official residence, and occupies a nine room apartment in the place.  She pays for her own furnishing and the rest of the place is a 775 room museum which according to Charles is falling down, unsafe, and rat infested.

The staffers at the palace had been bucking the government for years for cash to fix the place.  Finally after a chunk of the roof line fell and nearly killed the Princess Royal, Parliament caved and coughed UP the equivalent of $500 million over the next ten years to refurbish the place.

Over the next decade, workers will replace 100 miles of electrical wiring, 30 miles of water pipes, 6,500 electrical outlets, 5,000 light fixtures, 2,500 radiators and 500 pieces of “sanitary ware.”

Some of the wiring is 60 years old and most of the plumbing pre-dates World WarII!

But, even with all this, Charles and his wife, Camillia, Duchess of Cornwall (she’s really the Princess of Wales, but no one has the nerve to say it) have no desire to move in.

Of course when there actually is a King Charles III, his official residence will be Buckingham Palace.  It’s unlikely he’ll spend much time there as he’ll inherit his mother’s private residences of Sandringham, Balmoral, and the Crown Estate of Windsor.

But to the world, Buckingham Palace is the residence of the British Monarch, dump or no dump!

Buck UP Charlie, life could be worse!

A Small Reminder…

More and more often I’m reminded of my age.

Seems there’s a new ache or pain every week.

It is rare that someone says something that makes me realize I’ve experienced things some never will.

But, once in a while, it jumps right off the page and slaps me in the face like it did this weekend on Facebook.

A former co-worker posted a poem on his page, and as always, I tried to think of something to say.  I was at a loss, so I simply commented “Burma Shave.”

A few notifications his reply came; “I had to google Burma Shave.”

Yeah, that was a wake UP!

So, for all you whipper-snappers out there today we’re talking about Burma Shave and the way things were when traveling by car was an adventure.

First a little business:

Burma Shave

Burma-Shave was introduced in 1925 by the Burma-Vita company.  His original product was a liniment with ingredients that came from “the Malay peninsula and Burma.” No one cared, the owner needed to make some cash, so he looked for ways to expand his business.

The outcome was Burma-Shave, a brand of brush-less shaving cream.  Oh yes, back then, it was shaving soap, and it was in a mug, and you used a brush to slather it all over your face.  Burma Shave was in a can, and at its peak was the second highest selling brush-less shaving cream in the US.

One of the reasons for its popularity was it road side advertising campaign which consisted of “series signs” spaced along the highways.

The first one in Lakeville, Minnesota was put UP in 1926 and they were roadside staples until 1963, when they became a casualty of Lady Bird Johnson’s beautification project.

The signs imparted knowledge such as “The Place to pass on curves you know is only at a beauty show” Burma-Shave.

That’s right, each series of sign ended with Burma Shave and there was no question who was paying for the ads.

Most  were funny:

Candidate says campaign confusing, babies kiss me since I’ve been using Burma shave.

Some were serious:

Violets are blue, roses are pink on graves of those who drive and drink – Burma Shave.

They all reflect a time that seems in retrospect innocent, and a time that is past.

Now, at 70 MPH on most highways, signs are a blur.

But I miss the signs of my childhood, I miss the advice and the laughs they provided.

Do you remember your favorite Burma Shave slogan?

Here’s one of mine.

Big Mistake

Long ago in a land far away, there was a happy band of people.  They loved their land, loved the people they served, and toiled each day at a task that made them feel worthwhile and joyful.

They were masters of accommodation; being all things to all people.

These masters of accommodation knew the land and its people like no other; its hills, its valleys, the caves in which to hide, and the open fields where they could soak the sun’s rays.

They were helpful, hopeful, hop-to-its who never failed, always came through, gave much and demanded little.  They were teachers, fortune tellers, mentors, and nurse-maids; they could work miracles, find the lost, feed the hungry, and fix the misfortunes of the failed.

And the people loved them.

And the land was happy.

Then, there came an evil princess.

Evil Princess

She was jealous of theses masters of accommodation.

Mandating a meeting of her minions, the princess declared, “Something must be done.  These masters of accommodation have too much fun, too much joy, too much power.  They do to much for others. They must be stopped.”

So into the land the minions flew, questions were asked, meetings were held, brainstorming boomed.

“What do they do that the people love them so?”, asked the foolish followers of the evil princess. “How can they make the people so happy; how did this happen, this power, this joy?”

Shaking with fear, the weak ones cried, “Oh, it is not so, it cannot be, they aren’t so grand, they aren’t so brave, they don’t help me.  I can do this and I can do that, I find my way each and every day.”

Loving the lies and lapping UP the lore, no one asked those who knew more.  The masters of accommodation were completely ignored, knew nothing, were blind, and went on being kind.

So off to the castle the minions flew, armed with the lies of a chosen few.  The princess was pleased with the news that they brought, and felt joy in the fact that her efforts would not be for naught.

Sessions were held, the coven was called, the young and the old the short and the bald gladly gave UP the lay of the land, and all was to go according to plan.

Back in the land all was well, the rumors appeared, and then began to swell.  The masters of accommodation huddled in fear, knowing the end of their joy was near.

And on a day least expected the hammer did fall; no mail, no message, no call, no hint – no, nothing at all.

A flurry, a fluster, flashing and fighting; what goes, what stays, who helps, who hides?

There were some who cried, “Why is this so?”, they knew it was done, and some things must go.

As darkness crept in on that warm summer eve, the landscape was ravaged, the air not so fresh, the masters of accommodation were wounded in the flesh.

Back in her palace the princess was pleased, she’d stopped these masters, and that was her need. She cackled and crowed, the minions cowered at her screed!

But, hope springs eternal in the land far and wide, they are waiting, and watching, some continue to hide.   The cries of displeasure are heard day to day, but really the people know not what to say.

Yes, hope springs eternal in the land far and wide.  Princesses come and go, workers roll with the tide. The masters of accommodation, though battered and bruised, are helping and hoping and hopping as they usually do.