Politicians

The other night I was speaking to my friend Loopy and I told him of this Blog that I was planning to write. It’s been taking me three or four day to write a Blog. Mainly because of my pains, I can only write when I am pleasantly anesthetized with alcohol. Usually by that point in time, I do not really feel like writing anything.

Back several decades ago I took a 200 Level English course. The main reasons that I took the course were that it had one of the shortest sign-up lines and all in the line were young ladies. Although it can become a distraction, a classroom full of young ladies is a good experience for a young male with high testosterone levels. It allows you to daydream if the class is boring.

There are many reasons that there are short sign-up lines for certain elective classes. The three predominant factors are listed below:

1) The class is highly specialized and usually boring. The people in the sign-up line more than likely need this class as a pre-requisite for another highly specialized and equally boring class.
2) The Bad Professor syndrome. Either you don’t understand what they are trying to teach you or they are very hard with their grading (I found this to be a major factor when signing up for a class with an East Indian teacher). Except for the gifted few, most students don’t learn a damn thing and inevitably drop out (take an incomplete) or get bad grades.
3) The class is scheduled at an inconvenient time or coincides with a mandatory class.

It was a good course, not too boring and a hot babe sat next to me (let me rephrase that last statement – I intentionally sat next to the hot babe). The subject of the course was Etymology, which would seemingly be boring, but fortunately we had a Good Professor.

But I have strayed, as usual, from the topic of my Blog; Politicians. But before I get to the point of this Blog, I must say something about my friend Loopy (Paul).

As I did, Paul took 4 years of Latin, but he also took two years of Classical Greek. He therefore knows a lot about the origins of words (Etymology) in this thing that we refer to as the English language.

In our conversation I mentioned the word Politicians and asked if he knew the Etymology of the word. Unsurprisingly we both came to the same conclusion; great minds think alike.

The Etymology of the word Politics according to Webster’s:
Greek politika, from neuter plural of politikos political.

However we, Paul and I, had a different take on the word Politicians. Let’s break it down.

Poli - (no Y’s in either the Greek or Roman Latin Alphabet) so this is the same as Poly, which is a prefix meaning many.
tic – (no C’s in the Greek alphabet) so let’s add K to give it the right sound. This turns it into tick. As we all should know, a Tick is a small blood sucking insect that bores under your skin and causes pestilence.
ians – a suffix from the Latin word “anus” (I kid you not) meaning “from, related to, or like.

Therefore the true meaning of the word Politicians is: Related to many small blood sucking insects that get under your skin, cause disease and expel feces.

The Beach Bum

Paying the Price for Gas

I read today that a 14 year old Florida boy has been suspended from riding the School Bus for three days. These suspensions usually arise from unruly behavior; such as fighting or throwing things at the other students.

Not in this case. The boy allegedly passed gas on the bus. Although he didn’t admit to the heinous act, he laughed about it (a possible admission of guilt). The other students on the bus (although they didn’t hear the fart) said that a noxious odor was emanating from his direction. I guess it was one of those silent but deadly farts.

The article went on to say that it was also a suspendible offence (in Florida) to pass gas in a class room. If you feel a fart coming on, you must raise your hand, be acknowledged but the instructor; then ask permission to be excused from the class and hustle to the nearest restroom.

When I was young I rarely had to pass gas in the daytime hours; it was usually an hour after supper. But if I did, it was one of those urgent farts. I wouldn’t have the time to raise my hand, let alone, wait to be called on. I just hoped that it wouldn’t be a loud highly embarrassing one.

Now that I am in my sixties practically everything that I eat or drink gives me intestinal gas. I’m an old fart machine. The urgency is still there and I usually do not have time to run to the bathroom, to let one go. I just sit there and grin. I don’t even try to blame it on the dogs.

When I was in the Army (stationed in Africa) I knew two guys that could pass gas at will. One of them would always say “pull my finger”. That was our cue to rapidly leave the room. The other guy could not only fart at any time that he desired, but could also belch at the same time. We considered this to be an art form. It’s a male thing.

My wife’s sister’s husband could also pass gas at any given time. This usually occurred during family gatherings and our poker games. He would do it with flair. He would stand up and raise one leg off of the floor, then let a big on go. I admired him for his ability to do so. I had tried the same thing but without any tangible results.

Guys have always been able to find humor in farts. Women, on the other hand, usually find them to be an obscenity.

I’ll bet any amount of money (with odds) that both the Bus Driver and School Principal were women. No sense of gastric humor.

The Beach Bum

A Possible Answer to Our Financial Woes

In November I wrote a Blog titled “A Possible Solution”.

I was attempting to be facetious when I wrote it. In fact, one of my labels was – Just for Laughs. It was about the bailouts and other possible solutions rather than giving our tax dollars to incompetent CEO’s and the irresponsible individuals that got us into our current financial crisis.

While catching up on my viewing of editorial cartoons this morning (on the Chicago Tribune online site), I ran across one from January 15th. I couldn’t stop laughing.

The author of the cartoon was Pulitzer Prize winning editorial cartoonist Signe Wilkinson now part of the Washington Post Writers Group. She also does a daily comic strip named Family Tree which I read online. Following in the footsteps of another editorial cartoonist, David Wiley Miller (who signs his strip Non Seqiutur - Wiley), she signs both her editorial cartoons and daily strips - Signe.

Signe must have read my aforementioned Blog or at lease someone told her about it. I can dream, can’t I?

I snatched the following from the Chicago Tribune Website (Click on it to enlarge):



The Beach Bum

A Possible Solution

I have come up with a possible solution to our current economic woes. I read yesterday that we are now giving more money to bailout AIG. To say the least, I was not happy. I’m against all of the bailouts of banks and major financial Corporations.

The proponents of this action will tell us that this is good thing. People that have invested in the market and 401K plans are losing their retirement income. A friend, who is 65 years old, told me that he must keep working for at least another year because of a major drop in value of his 401K. He’ll work until he drops, because he loves what he is doing, not because his 401K has gone on the wayside. He’s like my Dad, who worked well into his mid seventies.

What I don’t understand, is why people didn’t invest in Oil Companies instead of Insurance, Auto and Mortgage Companies? I saw the writing on the wall back in 2002, and then more so in 2005.

Exxon Mobil posted a record third quarter profit of nearly 10 billion dollars (other worldwide Oil Companies also posted record profits). Immediately the price of gasoline began to drop, and it is now at the level (average cost per gallon) that it was 3 years ago.

The Exxon Mobil Company has a current Market value of about $500 Billion. Instead of bailing out frivolous companies, why doesn’t our government spend our money more wisely and buy a known profit maker such as Exxon Mobil.

Let’s take this one step further. What other American enterprise has been always known to make a profit? Any guesses?

Yeah, it’s Organized Crime. These (wise) guys, unlike our Government, do not like to lose money in a business venture. These are profit oriented people.

Now let’s say that the US Government allied with Organized Crime (we have, albeit surreptitiously, done this before). Of course this would be unpalatable to the moralists, the religious right and all of the do-gooders who think gambling, prostitution and extortion is a sin. Not to mention a few murders. At least, most of the Chicago Catholics that I know would be all for it.

Organized Crime (OC) has been involved in legit businesses for many years. They hire the best and if someone screws up, they literally cut them. They are a very profit oriented group of individuals. If the competition gets in their way; they remove the competition. It may not be moral or ethical, but it works and they always make a profit.

First the Government uses OC to buy Exxon Mobil at 75% of its market value (they’ll make the shareholders an offer that they can’t refuse – the Executives holding large share blocks would be pooping in their drawers or sleeping with horse’s heads). In return the US Government gives OC 50% of the profits. Both sides make money. No one loses, except the “fat cat” oil company CEO’s (who also happen to be major stock holders).

Organized Crime does it’s best to eliminate competition efficiently.

Who is the competition? OPEC! To maximize their profits, Organized Crime has been well known to limit competition. After removing one or two competitors, the other competitors will give a large percentage of their product to Exxon Mobil at a reduced cost. The savings, less a slight profit, would be passed on to the American consumer.

Unlike Corporate America, Organized Crime (none of their CEO’s are on the Forbes top 100) is not heavily into avariciousness; they just want their fair share, therefore they would pass on their profits to the American Public by encouraging and financing entrepreneurs, who in turn, will give them a fair share of their profits. Good for our economy in general.

There are those that will say that I am advocating that gangsters should run our major corporations (not a bad idea considering how poorly they are being currently operated). Organized Crime is not a bunch of street punk gangsters, as they are often portrayed in the movies. Instead they are profit oriented businessmen. They just cheat a little.

I say that these “wise guys” can do a lot more for the American Economy than the current overly high paid administrators of our major corporations. The big guys will lose (perhaps, even their lives) and the little guys, like you and me, will gain in the long run.

Just think about it!

The Beach Bum

On The Dark Side

In the early 1980’s, a friend in Chicago told me that I had a Gary Larson sense of humor. I asked if Larson was a new comedian and she replied “No, he’s a cartoonist”. I asked the name of the strip and she told me “The Far Side”. I had never heard of the strip because I was a reader of the other Chicago daily newspaper.


I soon became an avid fan of the “Far Side”. Larson’s humor was on the “Dark Side” (Black Comedy). When I moved back to Maryland a year later, I was overjoyed to find that the Washington Post carried "The Far Side” on their comics’ page. I would clip them out and post them on the bulletin board at work. Occasional other employees would ask me if I understood what Larson was saying. And most of the time I did.

The other day a friend sent a link to an on-line Sense of Humor Quiz. I usually don’t go to these sites because they require you to put in an email address for your results and afterwards you get bombarded with a flurry of spam. This site was different. It only asked 10 multiple choice questions and was a very quick quiz to take. After you finish your results are there immediately.

I answered all of the questions honestly as they have no way of knowing who I am. The results which follow didn’t surprise me one bit.


YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR IS DARK!
Who says Goths don't have a sense of humor? Goth or not, you certainly seem to appreciate the dark side of life, and it shows in your sense of humor. You might like dark (or black) comedy, because it pokes fun at our fears and anxieties. Life can be scary, and a lot of people try to avoid thinking about things like violence, death and disease. But not you. You look fear in the face and laugh. This can be a little disturbing to people who don't find the macabre very funny, but cracking jokes can be a harmless way to deal with harmful things. So, turn off the lights, put on that creepy Tim Burton movie and enjoy.

The Beach Bum

The Last Fire Drill

In a comment posted to one of my Blogs, a friend said that I should write some Kagnew Station stories in my blog. I feel that most of the stories that I tell about Kagnew Station, Eritrea, Ethiopia, East Africa are a little too obscene for this blog. Most of them cannot be toned down without losing the true essence of the story.

While looking through my files I found a story, written in 1999, that I could post to this blog. But before I post the story I must first give you some background information.

Artwork by Roxie HowardKagnew Station was a communications monitoring post located in Asmara, Eritrea (8200 feet above sea level). It reached its peak (no pun intended) in the late 1960’s and its closing began in 1973 with the withdrawal of the largest unit stationed there; The Army Security Agency. I had the good fortune of being there during the prime years (1966-1969). Subsequently I am the antagonist in a chapter of Michela Wrong’s non fiction book about Eritrea.

All that being said, here is a homogenized story about life at Kagnew Station in the late 1960’s. This is for you Pal Val.

It was the summer (rainy season) of 1968. Company "A" had just gotten a new Company Commander (LBJ – a sobriquet given to him because of his physique). I was on "A" trick, sharing a two-man room on the second floor with Little Willie. We were working Eves on the next to last day of the cycle. That night, after work, knowing we only had just one shift to go before our 48-hour break, we did what came natural; went downtown to savor some of the local nightlife.

At the ungodly hour of 0645 the Company fire alarm went off. I, as well as others, thought that this must be the real thing. Usually in the past we had always been warned of upcoming Fire Drills. Most of the guys would shack up downtown to avoid participation.

Grabbing what we could to cover ourselves, we headed for safety in the street in front of the barracks (I wish I had a picture of this). Guys came out of the barracks in sheets, in blankets, in under shorts and some with towels wrapped around their waist.

The alarms and noise in the street had also awakened the dependants living in the family housing across the street from A Company. As we gathered, they gathered, waiting for the Fire Trucks to arrive.

Out of the building comes the new CO. He sarcastically congratulates us on our ability to vacate premises in orderly fashion. Boos and hisses followed. Most of "A" Trick dropped their cover, walking naked back to the barracks and bed. The dependants living across the street were appalled at sight of us being au natural. Some of the guys even waved the distinguishing mark of their sex at the dependants. The families complained to the Post Commander. From that day until the day I left Kagnew that October, we didn't have another fire drill.

The Beach Bum