3Hotdogs
3Hotdogs's JournalD.C, BUS COMPANIES - guaranteed money making tour. "THE 'EVERYTHING TURNS TO SHIT,' BUS TOUR."
Start with the hole in the ground where there was a ball room.
Then drive them to the green pond.
Next, the tarp with Epstein images flashed on the tarp.
Add your own. The Dept. of Labor with his ugly face plastered on the wall.
$50 per person. $45 for seniors and under 12.
His name is/was Ken. We were in the Class of '70 in a small college. I haven't seen him since graduation
and yesterday I got to thinking about him. He seemed smarter than me. The kind of guy you looked up to for answers and understanding. School would close on May 6, a couple of days after the Kent State Massacre. The college president was worried that riots would break out so he issued a proclamation that there would be no more formal classes. You could accept your posted grade for the courses you took or you could opt to take the final exam in the hope your grade would improve.
My grade average was 3.9 or something close so there was no purpose to taking any exams. I went home. I guess Ken did the same.
He came to my mind this morning on a radio program where a polling company published the results of a pole that asked if you were confident about the future and your ability to make your way in what the future might bring, The optimists have declined over the years this pole has been conducted.
That brings me to Ken. He was 22. Maybe 23. And he had a vasectomy before he graduated. He didn't want to bring a child into the world, given the directions the world was going. At that time, "ecology" was one of two new focal points of the media and young people. 1970 was the April of the first Earth Day. The other concern was Viet Nam. Both showed a world heading down the shitter, Imagine if the youth of the 60's and 70's had a trip to the future to see Bush II or the Anal Fistula now occupying the White House..
Anyway - how this relates to me. I regret having children. I got two. They will probably be alright. They got inexpensive houses and jobs to pay for the houses.
It's the grandkids that I worry about. One graduated last year, from a second tier university at a cost of about $200k. His girl friend (whom I really like) graduated from the same college.They plan to spend this winter working at a ski resort. After that, they don't know.
The other 7 grandkids ---I don't know. They are all smart -creative and not afraid of physical or intellectiual hard work. But where will they find the place to use talents they have or will develop?
And it's beyond the question of if they will be able to afford a house - the American Dream. Will they even be able to afford e square, health care and a rented roof over their heads.
After 56 years, I think Ken was right.
Millburn Township referendum to switch from party affiliated municipal elections to non-partisan.
The vote is 50 to remain partisan. This, out of 2882 votes.
I wish the referendum had passed.
Brain dropping: 1964 bus ride from Texas to California. I promised a bus story to another DU'er, so here it is.
1964 and I had been drafted. I told my employer, a NJ state agency I would be back in two years. A day later, I was rejected because I'm legally blind in my left eye. Back to the job but I want to take a month off to see the country. "Sure, go ahead." -since they were planning to do without me for two years anyway.
I got a ride with friends to Hattiesburg Miss. From there, I took a bus to Copperas Cove, Tx. where my uncle was stationed as a captain at Ft. Hood. I spent two weeks there, getting a tan at the officers' club and pool. Then on the bus to L.A. to visit another uncle.
So for about four or five days, it's me and the Old Grey Dog. If you've never taken a bus ride of any distance, it is a ride of four or 6 hours and then the bus stops. You get off, take a pee, get a Coke and get back on the bus - usually with another seat mate. Sometimes, you talk, sometimes, you just sleep.
The bus was going into Waco and my seat mate was a man in his 90's. He told me about a gun fight on one of the streets of Waco and pointed out an Oak tree where a cattle rustler had been vigilante hanged..
Old timer: (Mind you, I'm now 83) " Do you have a girlfriend?"
Me: "No, I guess I ain't good lookin' enough."
O.T.: "Ya don't masturbate, do ya?"
Me: " Oh no, I don't do any of that stuff." ( Even though I had just recently mastered the art of switching hands without missing a stroke). I wasn't going to get into any of that with the guy.
O.T.: "That's good. Don't masturbate and there's no reason a boy like you can't get yourself a good looking girlfriend."
A short time later, the bus goes by the Waco Museum or maybe it was the library. He brings up that the museum held rattlesnake hunts once a month.
O.T.: "Ya know, I had a friend, Bill. Bill and I, when we were kids, we played together and went to church together. As time passed, Bill stopped going to church. I always talked to him about getting back, getting right with "The Lord." Bill was also part of the group that was on the rattlesnake hunts and I heard that he was getting kind'a slow on the grab with them snakes.
I said to him, 'I said, Bill, I hear you're getting kind'a slow on grabbing them snakes. Don't you think It's time, maybe you come back to church and get right with "The Lord?" '
Well Bill agreed that maybe it was time to git back to church and that he would see me there next Sunday.
That Saturday was a hunt and sure enough, Bill grabbed a snake to far behind the head, he got bit and they said he didn't even make it to the hospital"
With that, the Old Timer looked out the bus window and up at the sky, "Ya know, I always wondered how old Bill made out."
Well that story stopped me masturbating for a day or so - or at least got me stopped thinking about masturbating since it would have been difficult but not impossible to do such while riding on the bus.
KEEP THE TARP. It is a fresh canvas on which to project images of Trump and Epstein.
- Images of tomorrow's fiasco.
- Images of Trump and his enthusiasm for inflation.
---- just use your imagination.
Add your suggestions.
"I won't give 'em the satisfaction." This was part of my family's reaction (or non-reaction) to an affront, insult or
low level fuck-up. My family was Italian descent and I grew up in an Italian N.J. neighborhood. I heard it there from time to time. Then I heard it on an episode of the Sopranos.
So I got to wondering if this was a regional thing or do other parts of the country not "give 'em the satisfaction."
This came up in relating a story about my family. It took place, probably in the '30s. My grandparents lived in suburban N.J., 15 miles from N.Y.C. Aunt Ellen lived in The Bronx. My grandmother grew tomatoes, corn, lettuce and stuff in her yard. When Aunt Ellen and her family would visit, they were sent home with a burlap bag of veggies.
When my grandparents and family went to see Aunt Ellen, they were given a burlap bag of stuff from the distribution center in the south Bronx. Bananas, coconuts and stuff not readily available in Summit.
So now I have to explain the logistics of a trip from Summit to the Bronx. You took the trolly to the train station. Then you got on the train to Hoboken. Next, you took the ferry from Hoboken to N.Y.C. From there, you took the 8th Ave El(evated) north, and then transferred to another tube to the Bronx.
Reverse this, going home or visiting from The Bronx to N.J. It was an ordeal of several hours and was done once every other year or so.
One time, the bag coming from The Bronx was particularly heavy. When it was emptied, there was a rock on the bottom. What the hell?
Well, the same rock was placed in the bag going back to The Bronx at Aunt Ellen's next visit.
The story is that the rock made several trips back and forth from Summit, N.J. to The Bronx.
In relating this story to my wife, she asked, Instead of traveling the rock, why not call Aunt Ellen and ask, "What's with the rock?"
I explained that my grandmother didn't want to give Ellen "the satisfaction." At first, that made sense to me.
On further reflection, it was probably one of my uncles that put the rock in the bag in the first place and Aunt Ellen didn't want to give my grandmother "the satisfaction."
I am planning to post other family stories on D.U. as part of my Brain Droppings. I hope you enjoy them.
I'm tired of the nattering prophets on this board, complaining that Donald Trump is not the healthiest president, ever.
Your evidence? He makes too many trips to Walter Reed and he has 22 specialists.
Well what do you expect? Those 22 specialists are what is keeping him from getting sick and keeping him being the healthiest president that has ever presidented the White House.
He aces all his brain tests. And if that was remarkable, he even stays awake at night to send out tweets to educate people. Joe Biden never did that.
So there....
The first sentence - - - authors know the first sentence of a novel has to catch the readers; imagination. So, if you
were writing your next novel, what would be your first sentence?
Mine? : What do I tell her?
I went through 6 trial sentences before I came up with the one above.
Yesterday, I stopped at the Welcome Center at the Pa. NJ border. There were two guys standing next to their
Harleys. Big back packs and WAIT --- license plates without a state id..
"Where are you from?"
"France.." This didn't register so I asked again. Same answer. Then he showed me the luggage tag on the bike, going to JFK.
They are riding from NYC to LA.
I gave them safety vests that I had in my truck. Cheap ones that I give out to my hiking club during hunting season.
One of the guys tied it to the back of his bike rack. The other guy, probably won't display his,
I wished them a great trip.
50 year friend and former lover had her diagnosis of A.L.S. confirmed.
Waiting for more prediction about if she has months or years to live and in either case, face a horrible end of life.
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