Monday, July 31, 2017

My Early Morning Walks

We all carve out our routines throughout the day.  Once I became acquainted with the Waterboard gym, and committed to get more fit, I began to rearrange my day.  With my Papa Daycare client arriving at 7:35 am and wanting to avoid as many people as possible (I'm a people person, ask anyone), I began setting the alarm for first 4:00, then 3:00. 

Walking a treadmill for a couple hours is deathly dull stuff, even when the TV is running Rachel and Chris reruns, each equally apoplectic about the world, and probably rightly so.  Every once in a while I'll take a look at state-run Fox, but that gives me a pain in my duodenum.  CNN puts me to sleep and TCM is usually running Japanese samurai retrospectives.  On those days when I can't take it anymore, I will take a nice walk around the block.  The block here is roughly 4 miles and is fun in that I have things to hear and see that aren't yelling at me.     


My first mile is mostly residential with its dark spots and bucolic quiet.  I pass another apartment complex and a Methodist church.  I usually see a car plodding along the streets with a blinking light on its top.  That is a police volunteer car running the area watching out for anything out of place.  I also pass the Shepherd residence.  

The second mile places me on East Bay a main artery in the area.  It is a six lane east-west street that, even at this hour, is hosting a handful of cars and commercial trucks.  I pass a small shopping plaza that contains a car stereo shop, a Christian Science reading room and a pretty cool looking barber shop.  It is called Men's Department.  Look it up (Men's Department Largo).  It is a place to get a haircut, shoot pool, watch a ball game and talk with men about things men talk about.  BFE has something similar at the Community Center, sans the haircut, and that's only because I've never asked for one.    

It is kind of amazing the number of cycles I see at this early hour.  Are they going to work?  Or are they taking advantage of the cooler temps and sparse traffic?  I don't know, but if my bike was back down here, godforbid, those are the hours I'd ride.  

Normal hour things happen in this quiet urban hush, too.  People need things, the nearby 7-11 is usually busy,  and old Floridians find their ways to leave the state.   

My third mile takes me by the Largo High School, home of the Packers, Largo Park, Carib, Motors, and Hampton Inn and Suites.  There are some points that I always seem to pick up the pace and maybe jog a bit.  That sidewalk on a rise is one of those places.  Slow and steady.  Slow and Steady, hmmm.  Sounds like a good epitaph. Applies to most things.  

This is Dunkin Donuts in my 4th and final mile.  Even at this hour there is a car parked on the side and some lights are on in the back.  You can't really miss that the windows are always clouded by condensation.  But you can smell the product.  Day after day the permanent smell of  good stuff permeates the grounds.  Like Pavlov's pooch, my mouth waters. 

Not far from DD is a Burger King franchise.  This is where Alfred and I made daily visits for our afternoon ice cream snacks.  Note that their windows are always clear.  I'm no expert but would I be correct in assuming drippy windows means there is some imbalance in the heating/cooling matrix?

A bit down from the high school is a pond.  These sounds were bombarding me one morning.

The last stretch is a walk next to Wal-Mart (open) and the bus stops (both sides of street) that are usually homes to the homeless.  Over to the right is a large retaining ditch that is usually wet and contains garbage that has flown in - wrappers from nearby fast food joints, boxes and cardboard from people scrambling to open their purchases from Wally, and yet, there is a sprinkler system that is in place to make it nice and green.  Odd.  Strange.  But wouldn't you really expect it from this state of odd and strange?

Once back at Waterboard I will turn the coffee pot on and see if there is anything new happening in the world on TV, and sit down at the computer and write this post for your enjoyment and enlightenment.  Again - strange and odd.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Flashback Friday

I wasn't always a willing team player.  With regret I must confess that I sometimes balked when heading out to family gatherings.  I should say "her" family gatherings.  Mine were fine.  

As Mackenzie has noted on this Polaroid we have Grandma Grandpa, Dad and Darryl.  Christmas of 1994.  The current Mrs. Blythe's folks, Loren and Doris, or as I called them, Lo and Do.  They were nice people and, once they got over the shock of their daughter marrying me, hid their feelings admirably.  I'd like to think that the more they got to know me the more they liked me, but then we often create fantasies to mask reality.  

These guys were salt-of-the earth type people.  "Salt-of-the-earth" types have gotten a bad rap: it can be kind lingo to describe hard working, no play folks.  These guys worked hard but had fun, too.  Ask Lo about the last Cubs game and he'd say he didn't pay any attention to them, then rattle off all the key plays.  He also had a kind of strange sign language thing with the Wombie when he'd see him out working in Emerald City.  He was crazy about Kenze and Brendan.   

Do was the foundation of the household.  You could tell that right off.  And by foundation I mean chief chef, information center, activity director, director of procurement and someone you wanted on your side.       

Lo and Do had kids, then waited about 15 years and started over again and had 2 more.  Darryl was one of the older kids and, sadly, passed away a few years ago.  The remaining siblings, Carolyn and Patti are nice and friendly to me  - if charm hasn't yet won them over, then surely my longevity has.

By the looks of the picture I have been put in the corner, but in actuality, that was my favorite place - out of the spotlight, away from the hubbub and quietly observant, like a good in-law.  I had my time-out spots to gather my wits and breath.  

This photo is somewhat chilling to me - I am the only one alive.  Life is short - I'm going out and have fun today.  Tomorrow might be too late.       

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Our Water Nymph

A few months ago I mentioned in this blog that during an early morning walk I found a Nikon camera on the sidewalk.  Strangely enough it worked and after buying a battery charger I have been using it on some outings.  It wasn't till later I also found out it is waterproof and so I took it to the pool to test it out.


I'm somewhat speechless at my good fortune.  I wonder what event landed that camera on that sidewalk and kept it at that spot, a working camera mind you, so that I would come upon it in the early morning hours?  It wasn't far from Wal-Mart so one can surmise that a person left it on top of their car.  A tourist perhaps, although the pictures on the card would not suggest it.  I don't know.  And never will.  I erased the pictures on the card because I felt like a voyeur.  If I could have gotten some indication of eh owner or address I would have liked to have returned it; it was not cheap.  Looking at Amazon it came close to costing $200.  

I do know that it has provided a source of enjoyment for me and my clients this summer in the Waterboard pool.  And since I'm never too reticent to beat a dead horse (the horse doesn't care) I will be posting more of these dazzling underwater shots in the coming weeks.  And as always, if you aren't looking toward the skies for aliens, then keeping looking down at the ground - you'll be surprised what you can find.  

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

What Is On My Nightstand

I knew why Amor Towles' A Gentleman In Moscow was taking so long to finish.  I didn't want it to end.  Now pay attention to this next sentence.  I may have discovered my all-time favorite novel.  No, I take that back.  I have discovered my all time favorite novel.  

I finished last night and I don't know what I will start next - it cannot measure up.  It is really quite unfair to all the other novelists who have cranked out excellent reads and await my time for I think most others will pale in comparison.

First the set-up.  A young aristocratic Russian is sentenced to house arrest in the Metropol Hotel in Moscow for having opposed the new Bolshevik regime in 1922.  The next 32 years of his life as a prisoner of the posh hotel is a man who overcomes, who loves, whose adventures are grand and small but always fascinating.  My description does not do it justice.  Amidst the events are small snippets of how a gentleman acts, behaves and thinks in social situations and with those he comes to love and hate.

It evokes a time when people knew how to behave and how to be a gentleman.  If it is true that books take you to different places, they also take you to different times and allow you to meet the most fascinating and interesting people. The well drawn characters who populate the Metropol will become permanent members of your heart.   


I won't say more about this wonderful novel because I have devised a Sweepstakes that puts my money where my mouth and heart is.   So here goes:

1.  Send me your name in an email.  Tell me if you want a Kindle digital copy or a hardback edition.

2.  I will put all the names in a hat and pull out 1 or 2, depending on number of entries.

3.  Winners will be announced on August 22nd.

4.  Winning names will receive gift of A Gentleman In Moscow FREE compliments of Existing In BFE. 

5Email to use to submit your name and preferred copy:  

Come on, guys.  Free doesn't happen very often.  Submit your name today!

Fine print:  There's always fine print, right.  Any shady shit and you'll be placed in a room full of fire ants and they will peck away your eyes and privates and you will wish you hadn't tried any shady shit.  What is shady shit?  I don't know, but like porn I will know it when I see it.  Look, guys, this is an up and up deal.  It will be fun.  Oh, yeah, I may have you write a small paragraph after you read the book that I will post on the blog, but I' don't know about that yet.  The basic thing is this is an opportunity to win a free book.  I'm no sweepstakes runner so if there is anything else I need to exclaim here then consider it exclaimed. And if you can read this you have really good eyesight.  Russians, Azerbaijanis, or African princes are not eligible, or anyone else I deem as ineligible. Friends of readers of the blog are welcome to enter.  tell your friends.  Tell your Shi-tzus, tell your wives and concubines.  


Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Tuesday Tidbits

Decline In America

Look around and it is easy to see an almost imperceptible decline in America.  Student test scores, governmental leadership and legislating, manufacturing and industry, diminished middle class, and the list goes on.  In other parts of the world mass transit is the future on rails.  We no longer lead.  We now, simply, do nothing at all. 

The late Samuel Huntington, Harvard political professor believed:

Huntington, like Trump, wanted America to be great, and came to long for a restoration of values and identity that he believed made the country not just great but a nation apart. However, if that path involves closing ourselves off, demonizing newcomers and demanding cultural fealty, then how different are we, really, from anywhere else? The central agony of the Trump era is that rather than becoming great, America is becoming unexceptional.


Adventures in Babysitting

Here at the Daycare Center we have only 2 rules:  

1.  No Naps, No Snaks
2.  What happens at Papa's Daycare, stays at Papa's Daycare, to coin a tired phrase, but "Don't ever squeal on Papa" seemed a bit pedo, if you know what I mean. 

That is why we will not mention names or level of supervision during the following misadventures in babysitting.  

Poor Alfred trying her best to apply a little mascara.  

The above red glob 24 hours before was a B12 supplement.  24 hours before Alfred inserted it in her left nostril.  There it remained overnight until a good morning sneeze brought it back to daylight.   

On a more positive note, Wednesday was Elmer's glue slime day.  Three batches.  Three different colors.  Laughter and smiles all around.


Overused words used on 24-hour news talk shows:

writ-large, robust, look, listen, at the end of the day, existential, substantive, American people, lawyer-up, we'll talk on the other side (referring to showing video clip), have to leave it there


Unfortunately I had my camera's setting on some kind of blur except for center sharpness.  Drat.  But you get the picture.  Super fast, super expensive Lotus Evora.  Looked up the starting price and found if you want one of these you'll have to divvy up at least $89,000.  This was parked at Sam's Club.  Wonder if there is a cause and effect between the two?


Oops.  Another skeleton and symbol of urban life.


I hate commercials.  All commercials.  Not that I watch a lot of TV these days, but we do during the day (Square Bob Spongepants, and Paw Patrol).  There is one that plays to the moms at home that seems rather objectionable to me.  It is a Downy ad with some black guy in a virtual clown suit talking all femmy and lack of relationships between his pitch for softer clothes.   What boardroom and ad agency thought this was a great pitch.  It is, sadly, all too Stepin Fetchit.    


Washington Post editorial by Eugene Robinson:  America deserves better than this, referring to our President.  Well, yes, and no.  I seldom argue with Pulitzer prize winners, but I think Mr. Robinson is right and wrong.  He is right that this country deserves better, but wrong in that we get the government we deserve.

I think there is a certain laziness to us.  We live in America, chant "We're #1"*, display the flag and think we have done our duty.  The greatness comes naturally.  But we would be wrong in that assumption.  It takes work on our part to be informed and educated citizens.  One only need look at history to see how countries go off the rails with a citizenry that is blind.  

I have tried not to dwell on politics and certainly not to burden you readers with it, but Plato has been whispering in my ear.  I'm sure you all recall what he had to say in his little book called The Republic.  And I suppose most of you have your copies handy so, if you'll grab them I'll finish my point and we can proceed to more fun stuff.  I'll wait..................  

.......................I'm waiting...................................

 Couldn't find your copy, huh.  Maybe you lent it to a neighbor.  Anyway, it espouses (that can also be used to fill out forms when your wife is named "E") that there is a kind of social contract we have with the state:  in return for "wise leaders" we will be "moderate" citizens".  "Wise" being anyone who may or not be residing in the White House and "moderate" is most of us who obey the rules and don't generally go running naked through the streets banging pots and pans.  When the state has no wise leader it calls on the citizenry to raise a fuss, and when the people go running naked through the streets it calls for a leadership to deal with it.  General stuff like that.  pretty general stuff, right?  Now keep in mind that was written in 380 Before Christ.  Imagine that!  

My fault and my shame is that I for all to often have been uninvolved in the shaping of our country.  It has been more entertainment while I relax in an easy chair.  I won't, it would be rude, mention such things in company when I run into you guys in Northlandia, a gentleman would never do that, unless the subject is raised by others or am asked.   But I do have this blog and a forum to express to readers my thoughts and concerns.  If readers want only the light hearted portions of this forum then let me know and I will cheerfully refund your pro-rated subscription.  I'll hate to see you go, but I heartily understand.  It can be lonely to take a stand.  

Otherwise, for those of you who decide to stay, you will be rewarded with glimpses from BFE:  pictures, musings from Kitschland, glimpses of things I think and yes, the occasional political commentary.  I will try to keep it at a minimum, however.

I swear, this mess is bringing out the old hippie in me.

(Of course, if any of my thoughts jeopardizes my rides to and from Northlandia airports I will gladly change them to suit those of the driver, whoever that may be.)

*Someone please show tell me what we are verifiably number 1 in that doesn't have to do with years at war, guns or prisons.  


I have spoken often of my addiction and weakness with ice cream.  Any flavor, any consistency.  I do draw the line at sherbet (I mean, what the fuck is that shit?) but in a complete void it'll do, too.

Imagine what my EKG was when I stepped into ICEburg in downtown St. Pete and witnessed the majesty that is rolled ice cream.  Watch, savor, and die of envy.

That plate must be cooled by some kind of super-coolant because it is really hard by the time it makes it to your cup and your quivering hand.  It's not cheap - nothing in downtown St. Pete is, and will cost you about 7 dollars or 15 pesos.  You can get 2 containers of Breyers Natural Vanilla for $6 bucks at Wal-mart so "no", its not worth it, but I can't wait to go back.


If you have been reading for long, you know that I have written of the homeless brigade that is somewhat pervasive here.  If I were homeless this is where I'd want to be, too.  Much nicer than the cold winters of Minneapolis.  They sleep and spend their days in nearby bust stop stands and use fast food joints as their rest stops and clean-up areas  They can get a coffee cheap, use the john, splash some water on their faces and hang out awhile.

Last Saturday I went to McDonalds for lunch and this homeless guy was having his coffee and watching a FOX business infomercial on buying gold.  He couldn't keep his eyes off it and I wondered about the ironic juxtaposition (a new sexual position recently discovered by a Fort Wayne, Indiana honeymooning couple in Juxta, Mexico.  Both are recovering nicely in the local hospital and should be home soon).  Three items gave him away as one of the unwashed masses:  his look, his order, and the fact a woman who sat in a booth next to me gave him 4 dollars when she left.

But, boy, what the hell was going through his mind during that gold-buying presentation on TV?


Things I think about when there is nothing else to think about:

We like to anthropomorphize our pets (turn them into people).  I wonder if they are trying to turn us into dogs?

Just think of what happens everyday in most hospitals.  The best day of your life - the worst day of your life.  The first day of your life, the last day of your life.  And everything in between.

If I have to use my teeth to get the coffee creamer seal off, how is 78 year old Martha doing it who hasn't had a tooth in 25 years?

When I was a young philosophy student I used to think that a well lived life should end the first day you couldn't do something you could the day before.  I have revised that errant thought.  

When I was a young philosophy student I used to think a starving man could die happy.  I have not revised that thought.

 How easily I would survive if there were no felis catus in the world.  I didn't even like Felix.


Finally, one of my clients had a birthday this week.  Alfred, aka, Ayla celebrated her second birthday.  And proving, once again, the reality of the Stockholm Syndrome, the little thing is crazy about me.  

Monday, July 24, 2017

Scenes From BFE

If you ever glance at the title of this thing you will notice that the location refers to BFE.  BFE is an acronym for, well, you know what.  The "E" used to stand for Egypt but now refers to "e"verywhere you are.  For awhile I was in a small burg North of G-Burg, South of Alpha and west of New York City.  I lived with my dog, Missy Marie, and this place was probably the second    happiest place of my existence.  In my most depressed state I wonder why I left.  But then I remembered that I had a family elsewhere and who are we if don't have that?  But I will always consider myself an honorary resident of BFE and it is one of the reasons why I now have a Cabin not far from there.  If G-Burg was a long passionate night of love, then BFE was an equally satisfying early morning quickie.  Kitschland?  More like ED.  But I digress.

The following pics are from BFE or areas close.    

Outside Emerald City a ways toward BFE in an area of overgrowth next to a fence line lies the next-to-final resting place of this old combine.  It begs the eternal question, at least for me in these instances, at what point did the owner decide to not deal with it and just let it rot away.  Everything has some value.  Even this hunk of metal has value to a junkyard.  At the point where it stopped running it still had value, perhaps considerable.  It was, after all moving at one point and then it stopped.  Fix or not.  Those are the thought processes that interest me.

While most of us like a well maintained front yard and will go to some lengths to make it so, others, sadly, have no such compunction.  Compunction is a cool word.  It can also be used in the context of "calling your punction".  

Again, the interesting thing isn't the rusting autos.  It is the decision to leave it in the front yard as more of a more challenging exercise in mowing.  

I really tried to get a good picture of this old shed amidst the trees and shrubbery.  The reason is because mostly hidden in the weeds is an old Model something-or-other.  It may be a more interesting shot in winter.  If you are on the road and travel next to this you know you are in BFE. 

Old barns tend to draw photographers and I am no exception.  This nice looking weathered structure is a mile and a half outside BFE and look straight west from this spot and you can see the skyline.

There isn't a city, town or village in the Midwest that hasn't been impacted in some fashion by the decline in the Rustbelt.  Some declined before the present economy and BFE was one of them.  Its demise was signaled by the re-routing of the railroad line.  But then BFE's charms are not in its industry or conveniences.  It lies in its anonymity.

There was a time when you could get a big hulking stone slab placed in your new building telling everyone exactly what you were built for.  In this case, a new garage was constructed in town, presumably not to be confused with the grocery store or fire house.  These signs-of-their-times sure beat the glaring otherworldly color of the new flashing signs in vogue today.

And while I am here, I might as well stop by the BFE Community Center and see if they have a cold one available.  

P.S.  They did and it is the coldest beer in town.

Friday, July 21, 2017

Flashback Friday

I had a house rule in G-Burg that we would not turn the heat on until Thanksgiving.  Prior to that date the screens would come down and the glass windows would go on.  It wasn't always an easy project. 

Step One:  Screened windows unlatched and lifted off sill hardware.  Twisted just so as to allow them to be brought into the room.  Take them all up to the attic.

Step Two:  Bring glass windows down from attic.  They are not light so can be a hassle bringing them down the narrow steep attic steps.  

Step Three:  All the windows must be washed.  

Step Four:  Sit on sill and maneuver the heavy and large glass window through the opening and across your lap.  It is now fully outside so don't lose your grip.  (I actually did once and almost hit Brendan with a an old Victorian window.)

Step Five:  Lift the window from horizontal to vertical and attempt to place window latch's into the outside sill hook.  This often means a person must push down on your legs so you don't fall out the second story window opening, thus breaking the window and numerous other things on your body.

Step Six:  If you have followed the state-of-the-art window numbering system, then you simply, and slowly, close the window and latch the hook.  You are now ready for winter.  You will repeat the process in reverse in the Spring.  A long ways off and at least 6 heating bills away.

Not all the windows in the 2700 square foot old Victorian was the old fashioned storm window type.  I bought a dozen windows from Sears when I moved in that were modern, easy and energy efficient.  The others, however, either kept their winter glass on year around or we went through the above procedure every Fall with the rest. 

Thus the picture above.  Someone, I suspect Kenzie, decided to take a picture of Dad cinching up his warm and woolly robe on a chilly cold day.  I recall always getting a slight lump in my throat every time I'd hear the furnace start whirring in the basement.   When we moved in we had one of those giant octopus type furnaces and while it wasn't efficient, it was effective.  And a bit expensive. 

We would eventually buy a new furnace with a cool air filter attached and a service agreement for a yearly check up.  We do what we have to do.  Others depend on it.  We provide.  

And, of course, if you got too chilled you could inch a little closer to the fire burning in the fireplace.  Or climb in bed with your electric blanket, take the dog with you.  But touch that thermostat and you will be terminated.        

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Single Picture Post #3

Taken on 6-5-2017
4:14 AM
30 sec exposure
ISO 800
South Lagoon looking North East, Emerald City

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Emerald City After Dark

One early morning I took my camera downtown in Emerald City and took these black and whites.  Alleys in the dark.  No cars.  No people.  No sounds.  This is why I like the early morning.  Mystery. Shadows.  Hiding places.    

Just another way to look at our world.  Night is much more thrilling than daylight.  The shadows aren't just black, they make our hearts race just a bit.  It's not a horror movie race either.  It's an almost otherworldly excitement.  What lurks in the blackness - is it malevolence?  Is it benign?  Is it something in between or nothing at all?  We never know, until daylight.  But by then our hearts have resumed their unburdened beating - normal, unexciting, lacking the thrill of night.  Until the sun sets again.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Tuesday Tidbits

As I ponder my next stay at the Cabin in the Woods, my thoughts go to all the things that make it rewarding to have it.  Whitey's, Papa's Fish Market,  BFE, my Peeps, roadtrips, Jerry's, dark skies, the bike, Miss Frump and... 

...all the regulars at Beer Bellies.


It isn't always blue skies and sunshine in Central Kitschland.  You never get one of those really neat day-long rains that are so wonderful up North, but when it does rain it does so like an old cow pissing:  fast and hard but short.  This was taken at the Sunset Grill in St. Pete where we went for breakfast.


 Did you know you can buy a keyboard that mimics the old fashioned typewriter?  Yup, you sure can.  Even down to the occasional sticky key.  It costs about $140 and for all you old-school reporters or novelists who yearn for the good old days then go ahead and pop for it.

I was lucky enough to have an old electric typewriter the folks got me when I was in college.  It was blue and mostly plastic but it was a godsend for all those reports.  I also recall all the ribbon and key problems.  Nostalgia isn't always that much fun. 


Adventures In Babysitting


GOOD BUSINESS (Sci-Fi Short) 2017 from Ray Sullivan on Vimeo.


Why Trump supporters don't care about the Russia thing: it was to stop Hillary. 



I get that we live in a capitalist country.  I have something you want, then pay me for it.  But there are some things that are just wrong:

1.  Air at gas stations.  Charging $1.50 on your credit card to fill up a tire is a type of gouging, especially when you most likely just paid $30 bucks to fill up your  gas tank.

2.  Not having a tiered ala carte TV cable and dish system.  If I watch 5 channels on a regular basis why should I be forced to pay for 150?  Let me buy my five channels for an elevated price and let  someone else by their 100 channels at less cost, but why should I buy crap I don't want? 

3.  Crappy American healthcare insurance system.  Why not have both Obamacare and Repub systems plus single-payer and we all get to choose which one we want?  It'll sort itself out in a couple years. Guaranteed.

4.  Why can't I go into a store and buy a single yellow highliter?  You have to buy them in packs of two or four or more and all have a different color.  

5.  My house taxes should have a reduced cost if it is nice and well-maintained.  The grub down the street with crap all over the yard should have to pay more.  And even more if you are flying a symbol of hate, intolerance and treason.

6.  River barges should keep a room available for people like me who'd love to take a river cruise on one.

7.  Cover charges. Period. 


I wonder?

I loved these as a kid.  Do they even make them anymore?

I wonder whatever happened to Darrell Vice who got hurt bad in his father's drug deal gone wrong in Oquawka in 2001?  I hope he's happy and healthy.

I wonder if there is a dog out there now that is destined to end up with me and we just haven't found each other yet?

I wonder if its true creepy bugs and spiders crawl into our mouths when we sleep?

Guys, you know those openings in our underwear?  I wonder if anyone actually fishes their whitchie through those?

I wonder if Shep Smith will get fired from Fox for going anti-Trump last week?


Movie fans will want to check out this article on filmdom's most iconic props.


One of the reasons I like St. Pete.

Sidewalk eateries are always ready to take your order and water your furry friend.

Love your pooch?  Take it with you wherever you go.  No cats, please.


1934 Studebaker President

I've got room in my garage for this beauty, if it's OK with Miss Frump.  Oh, Studebaker!  What happened?


At first I suffered a little involuntary anal leakage when I read that Kid Rock and Caitlin Jenner are considering running for office.  I figured we've got enough amateurs running the country and why get more.  I figured it was just another symptom of a dumbed-down America.

But I was wrong.  I think it would be great.  What is America after all, if it isn't the nation where anyone can be a Senator, or Representative, or President?  Participation and particularly entering the "arena" should be admired and encouraged.  Good going guys (or girls or whatever), I'm happy to hear of your ambitions and best of luck, and thanks for putting yourselves out there.