US Open…

I know most people consider golf as boring as watching grass grow and I understand.

But… Having said that, I’ve played at it since high school and always enjoyed, most of the time enjoyed it… Okay, okay, I played flog more than golf, but still…

Thanks to being the Navy, I did get the chance to play a lot of interesting courses over the years, and was able to work the Players Championship in Jacksonville a couple of years. I’ve also worked a few other tournaments too.

One of the courses I was lucky enough to play was Torry Pines at ‘Navy’ rates a few times over the years, so I’ve actually walked that course just like the pros. It’s a public course, so it gets a good bit of play and when the wind is blowing, it is TRULY a challenge!

I’ll be the first to admit they out hit me with EVERY club in their bags. On a ‘good’ day, I’m barely over 210 yards with the driver, and 100 yards with a wedge. They’re hitting over 320 with drivers, and 150-170 with their wedges.

What really amazes me is their shotmaking ability and accuracy. And their putting… So yes, I’ll admit I watch golf… If for no other reason than to see actual head to head competition, where there aren’t any excuses for how well or badly they shoot. Golf is definitely NOT a team sport, and I know some people say they aren’t athletes, but I’d challenge you to go out and walk 4-5 miles a day, up and down hills, and swinging a club 60-100 times a day, week after week in all kinds of weather.

I believe the quality of the golfers today is a direct result of Tiger Woods and his ascendancy in the golf world. He popularized the sport world-wide that was basically a ‘rich old man’s sport’, and started kids all over the world playing golf. We’re seeing the results of that now on the leaderboards with all the different countries represented. At one point, there was a South African, a Spaniard, an American, and an Irishman in the top four slots. Rahm from Spain won it with two huge puts on the last two holes.

One other point- Lots of folks don’t realize that most of the course workers are volunteers, unpaid other than maybe a round or two of free golf at the location. This allows the tournaments to donate a lot of money, $204 million in 2019 and $3.9 billion over all the years. Philanthropic contributions, including those from professional tournaments, are a huge part of the industry, with the majority of funds going to causes outside of the sport like hospitals, youth development groups, food banks, and programs in local communities the PGA Tour visits.

I don’t believe any of the other ‘sports’ match that…



Made too much food…

I made enough for the folks I’d ‘planned’ on making it, but three didn’t… Guess I’ll be eating leftovers…

Oven baked short ribs, smoked beef ribs, shrimp boil, chicken skewers, and coleslaw.

Why so many choices, you might ask?

Well, one person is allergic to shrimp, one can’t eat beef, and everybody can eat chicken. But it was damn sure an all day affair…

Was it worth it? Hell yes, good friends, good conversation, laughter, and everyone relaxed. Definitely worth it.

Signed, sealed, and delivered!!!

Gov. Greg Abbott appeared Wednesday on the grounds of the Alamo to sign seven pieces of legislation loosening firearms restrictions in the state.

The most controversial of those, Senate Bill 1927, allows Texans to carry handguns without a license or training starting on September 1. That so-called constitutional carry proposal was passed over the objections of gun safety advocates and some law enforcement groups.

Full list, HERE.

The one that is really going to be interesting is the suppressor bill…

House Bill 957 (Oliverson/Springer) repeals the criminal offense of possessing, manufacturing, transporting, or repairing a firearm silencer. It also ensures that any firearm suppressor manufactured in Texas, and that remains in Texas, will not be subject to federal law or federal regulation. 

But I won’t be running out and buying one just yet… I KNOW that one is going to be challenged left, right, and sideways…

Of course the left is melting down, and I’m just waiting for the ‘blood in the streets’ wailing to start. Dunno if anyone else has noticed, but those other states that have passed Constitutional Carry haven’t had any blood in the streets…


Soooo, PP and family are going camping, and I ran across these…

Family campers

1910 version…

1918 version…

1924 version… Probably the first ‘motorhome’…


YMMV, and everybody makes their ‘own’ choices… 🙂


They mean things… How we interpret them depends on what our experiences are…
I’ve talked about this before, about ‘Navy Blue’ being the ONLY color you see. The author is unknown, but definitely on the money as far as I’m concerned. I just found out last night that two more of my shipmates have died, and we didn’t even find out about it for over a year, thanks to the WuFlu. 🙁
To understand a Sailor you must know:
We left home as teenagers or in our early twenties for an unknown adventure.
We loved our country enough to defend it and protect it with our own lives.
We said goodbye to friends and family and everything we knew.
We learned the basics and then we scattered in the wind to the far corners of the Earth.
We found new friends and a new family.
We became brothers and sisters regardless of color, race, or creed.
We had plenty of good times, and plenty of bad times.
We didn’t get enough sleep.
We smoked and drank too much.
We picked up both good and bad habits.
We worked hard and played harder.
We didn’t earn a great wage.
We experienced the happiness of mail call and the sadness of missing important events.
We didn’t know when, or even if, we were ever going to see home again.
We grew up fast, and yet somehow, we never grew up at all.
We fought for our freedom, as well as the freedom of others.
Some of us saw actual combat, and some of us didn’t.
Some of us saw the world, and some of us didn’t.
Some of us dealt with physical warfare, most of us dealt with psychological warfare.
We have seen and experienced and dealt with things that we can’t fully describe or explain, as not all of our sacrifices were physical.
We participated in time-honored ceremonies and rituals with each other, strengthening our bonds and camaraderie.
We counted on each other to get our job done and sometimes to survive it at all.
We have dealt with victory and tragedy.
We have celebrated and mourned.
We lost a few along the way.
When our adventure was over, some of us went back home, some of us started somewhere new and some of us never came home at all.
We have told amazing and hilarious stories of our exploits and adventures.
We share an unspoken bond with each other, that most people don’t experience, and few will understand.
We speak highly of our own branch of service and poke fun at the other branches.
We know, however, that, if needed, we will be there for our brothers and sisters and stand together as one, in a heartbeat.
Being a Sailor is something that had to be earned, and it can never be taken away.
It has no monetary value, but at the same time, it is a priceless gift.
People see a Sailor and they thank them for their service.
When we see each other, we give that little upwards head nod, or a slight smile, knowing that we have shared and experienced things that most people have not.
So, from myself to the rest of the Sailors out there, I commend and thank you for all that you have done and sacrificed for your country.
Try to remember the good times and make peace with the bad times.
Share your stories.
But most importantly, stand tall and proud, for you have earned the right to be called a Sailor.
I’m a Sailor.

Rimworld snippet…

The usual caveats apply. Comments/recommendations appreciated. As a reminder, Ton’Skel is still learning ‘earth’ words and speech cadence.




“Is the Hyderabad here? If so, can I borrow a shuttle? I need to go hunt some Silverbacks down in the southern hemisphere and I don’t want to leave Ton here by himself for what could be a week or more.”

Fargo shook himself as he contemplated having more or less direct communications all the time with Jace as long as he was in his cabin. This is…going to take some getting used to.

Jace replied, “I have the regular shuttle doing some work for the space station, but I can give you the stealth shuttle. It’s capable of supporting the two of you for a week, but I’ll add extra rations to the autochef for Ton’Skel. When do you want it?”

Sensing Ton nearing the cabin, along with Cattus and Canis, he hurriedly answered. “Um, day after tomorrow. Early morning?” he added, “Can you hear me?”

Jace’s reply was tinged with humor. “Of course. I’m hooked into your e-tainment system. I hear everything that goes on in the cabin. And you snore.”

“I…” The door opened, and he was almost bowled over by Cattus and Canis, both vying for his attention, even as they shook the last of the snow from their pelts. He jumped to the side and said, “Sit, dammit. Wet animals are not welcome in here; you two know better!” Cattus sat, then popped up and headed for the kitchen as Canis cocked her head, tongue hanging out and did her version of the doggie smile at him. Ton’Skel, filthy to the elbows, came in, closing the door behind him and Fargo said, “Have a good run?”

“Yes, did you know you have a gold deposit at the waterfall?” Ton’Skel proffered a couple of small nuggets, and Fargo held out a hand, allowing him to drop them into it.

“Gold? Where? And how did you—”

Ton’Skel shrugged. “I can…how you say, sense gold. There is…what is word.” Frustrated, he almost snarled.

Thinking for a second, Fargo said, “Runoff? Not the main seam or vein?”

“Runoff. That is word. It comes from higher, but not far. Edges are not smooth.”

Bouncing the nuggets in his hand, Fargo bit his lip, then said, “I…have to go hunt Silverbacks. I may be gone a week or more. You…can stay here, or go to the Enclave, or come with me. It will be…living out of a shuttle. Not comfortable.”

“Can I hunt,” Ton’Skel asked excitedly.

Fargo grimaced. “I…it is going to be very dangerous. Let me show you.” He brought up the vid Remington had taken from Betsy when he took down the two Silverbacks at the mill site, and started it without comment. Ton’Skel leaned forward intently, growling at the multiple shots Fargo took to bring down the first, then physically jumped back when the second Silverback tried to pounce on Fargo.

Scrubbing his face, Ton’Skel asked, “Why so many shot? Is not good!”

“I will show you.” Fargo brought up the pictures of the Silverback he’d skinned out after shooting it at the waterfall. He got up and brought back one of the 16mm rounds, flashing up a pic of the cracked skull. He pointed and said, “This one had a lesion of some kind on the brain.” The next pic showed the measurement of the thickness of the frontal skull plate at almost a half an inch. Flipping the round to Ton’Skel he said, “That is the round I shoot. Sixteen mm, it would not penetrate that thickness, plus it would take an almost perfect angle to actually get a chance to even crack the skull.”

Ton’Skel leaned back and cocked his head. “How did you kill?”

Bringing up the vid of the shots from the bench, he said, “These are the test shots. I’ll show you each of them, then the stills from the test.” He added, “Frankly, I was extremely lucky on this particular kill.”

After the vids ran, he said, “Questions?”

“Why the shots to each…shoulder? Then two more, then three?”

Fargo grimaced as he remembered the wash of fear after his dissection of the carcass. That was a purely lucky shot that night. No frikkin wonder I never killed one in the sim on the ship. I never thought about having to make it through all that damn bone structure. I didn’t do my homework. Thankfully, that one was…crazy.

He put up the pics of the cut away meat, the shoulder bones, measurements, and did the same for the rear shoulders. The final pics were of the penetration of the round and the damage to the dual hearts and lungs. “There is an enormous amount of bone to get through to even get to the hearts. And I am an excellent shot. That is why it takes seven shots minimum to take one of these down.” He pulled down a set of claws from the mantle and handed them to Ton’Skel. “These are the claws.”

Ton’Skel’s claws inadvertently came out and Fargo chuckled, “Yes, he’s got you by…at least an inch, if not more. And they always hunt in pairs. Linked pairs, so they coordinate their attack on their prey. One distracts, the other pounces from the rear.”

“How did you, have you killed others?”

“Yes, I’ve killed several pairs.” Looking at Ton, he added carefully, “I am…an empath. I can…sense animals and their locations. You’ve seen me do that with Canis and Cattus.”

Ton’Skel nodded. “That is…fortunate. I do not have gun.” Frustrated, he growled, “I can go, but cannot hunt is what you say?”

“Yes, I will not put you in danger, Tyag.” Purposely using his Ghorka name, he continued, “What would happen to me if I let you get hurt, much less killed? What do you think the Enclave would do to me? You are still a child in their eyes. I would lose all support within the Enclave and might be tried by a tribunal for your death.”

“They would do that to you?” He asked in a surprised tone.

Fargo shrugged. “The first principle in the human race is to care for the young. They are the future. So yes, they would do that to me.”

Ton’Skel snarled in frustration, “I will go, and understand I will not be allowed to hunt.” Shaking his head, he finally said calmly, “I would watch you and learn your skill.”

“I can’t teach you empathy, but you can watch and see how the Silverbacks hunt. If nothing else, it will teach you to always watch your back,” Fargo said with a grimace.


The next morning the Hyderabad’s stealth shuttle settled quietly on the snow field in front of the cabin at first light. Fargo and Ton’Skel walked through the snow to the small ramp, escorted by Cattus and Canis. Fargo sent, “Go to your packs. Do not return until I do. Both animals jumped up, and he hugged both of them before they trotted off through the snow. He glanced back at the cabin, absently patted his pockets to make sure he had everything, and walked into the shuttle.

He was surprised to be met by Jace and asked, “You’re not making the runs on the ship?”

Jace grinned. “Oh, I have fully qualified subordinates to take care of things like that. Shall we go? I have the location plotted and our ETA is fifteen.” Glancing at them, he said, “As soon as you secure your gear and take your couches, that is. The compartments by the hatch are available for your bags and rifle case.” Fargo and Ton’Skel quickly stored their bags in the compartments and settling into couches across the aisle from one another.

Ton’Skel rubbed his hand over the couch. “This is, how you say, comfortable?”

“It’s an acceleration couch, it had better be comfortable,” Fargo said. He laughed, adding, “We’re going to be in them a while. We have about eight thousand miles to cover. We will sit in these for nine divs.”

“I can sleep?”

Fargo chuckled. “Yes, you can sleep. I’m going to do that too.”

Jace interrupted their back and forth. “Lifting. We will climb to low earth orbit and arc down from there.”

Two divs later, with Ton’Skel fast asleep, Fargo got up and went forward to the cockpit. Slipping into the couch next to Jace, he asked, “Why are you here?”

Jace turned to him. “You need to know what is going on. Someone leaked that Ton’Skel is still alive and escaped the embassy attack at Star Center. Traders are all over this sector, asking questions and poking into any world they can. They know he’s in the wind, they just don’t know where, and are turning over the rocks under the rocks to find him.”

“Shit. That is not good.”

“No, it is not. So far no Traders have attempted to land on Hunter, but I expect them to show up soon. They seem to move toward the DMZ in a coordinated sweep.”

“Trying to flush the prey?”

Jace nodded. “And the vatcarrot and tree limb approach. Five hundred thousand credits to whomever turns him in. Death to those that hid him and all within one hundred miles if they find Ton’Skel themselves.”

Fargo whistled softly. “That is a lot of credits!” A second later, his mind processed the rest of the statement. “One hundred miles? If he was in a city—”

“The city would be destroyed, everything out to one hundred miles.”

“So Rushing River, my family, Nicole, Holly, the Herms…” Fargo said softly.

“Who actually knows he’s here beside Nicole, OneSvel, Nastass, and the Enclave?”

“That’s it. Nobody else.”

“Nobody at GalPat,” Jace pressed.

Fargo gripped the couch. “Boykin. Warrant Boykin. She’s not the talkative type though.”

“Are you sure?”

Fargo relaxed and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure. She’s a little redhead with an attitude almost as large as yours. She’s also a combat vet and cool under pressure. You remember her.”

Jace nodded. “Yes, I do. However, external pressure can be exerted.”

“I don’t know. I think she would bow up and die first. She’s…one of the most honorable I’ve seen, right up there with the Ghorka.” He looked around. “Are there any rats on board?”

“Aft of the cockpit, port side, third compartment. Mini-mess. Autochef, e-rats, water, etcetera. Fresher is to the starboard.”

Fargo got up and went back. Opening the compartment, he dialed up a bulb of coffee, grabbed an energy bar, and returned to the cockpit. Slipping back into the couch, he glanced over at Jace and projected, “Can you hear me?”

“Of course. All of my entities can communicate with you like this.”

“I need to go to…Myoto. They are having a problem with animals raiding the towns.”

Jace grinned. “And that has nothing to do with GalScout’s desires, correct?”

It startled Fargo to ‘hear’ that. “How did you know?”

“I know all, I see all, I—”

Fargo sniffed. “Yeah, right. But I still need to go. Problem is, it’s a month long trip and I don’t know how long I need to be there.”

“I can cut eight days off the transit to and from. There is one area that is being…harassed by the animals.”

“What kind of animals?”

“Something like dinosaurs.”


“That’s what they are calling them.”

Fargo mumbled, “Not sure I’ve got enough gun or shoulder for that.”

“Ton’Skel is coming forward.”

“Thank you for the info, Captain.” Fargo turned. “What do you need, Ton?”

“Bathroom and something to drink.”

Fargo pointed them out and said, “I’m going to go back to sleep. I’d suggest you do the same.” Ton’Skel nodded, his mouth full of an energy bar, as Fargo made his way back to his seat.


Seven divs later, Jace sat the shuttle down gently in an open field about a mile from where he had spotted the Silverbacks on the IR system. “This good, Fargo?”

“Perfect. Now we’ll see if they are curious. I’m going to open the hatch, step out, and see if I can sense them as soon as I load my rifle.”

The hatch cracked open, and he stepped cautiously out, extending his empath sense as far as he could. Turning back, he made sure the hatch was closed as he realized he was overdressed for the location. Sweat beading on his head, he finally sensed two Silverbacks approaching the edge of the clearing. One stayed at the far side of the clearing, just deep enough in the trees to not be seen, as the other of the pair slipped around to his right. The one he was facing started to his left, becoming visible through the trees, much like a moving shadow. It finally prowled to the edge of the clearing and yowled. Fargo honored the threat as he tracked the second Silverback to his three o’clock position. Odd, they didn’t completely split. I wish they would hurry up, it’s hot out here, too damn hot! I’m sweating like a nearpig and I really don’t need sweat in my eyes right now. He quickly dried his hands on his pant legs, juggling the rifle as he did so. He used his left sleeve to wipe his forehead, momentarily blocking his view of the one Silverback.

When he dropped his arm back to the rifle, the Silverback was silently charging him and he jerked the rifle up to his shoulder, Dammit, pay attention you stupid sumbitch! He sensed the other Silverback still back in the trees a bit, so he drew down on the charging one. Seven rounds. In order. Left right, left right, center. Almost as fast as he thought it, he fired seven rounds, dropping the Silverback in the grass thirty feet in front of him.

Spinning to his right, he caught the mate as it took its first bound into the meadow. Methodically, he shot seven more times and dropped that Silverback forty feet in front of him. He heard the hatch start opening and yelled, “Close the damn hatch! I need to make sure they are dead! Stay in the damn shuttle!” He saw the hatch cycle back closed and ran toward where the first Silverback had gone down, moving through knee high grass. As he got closer, he swung wide, senses fully extended, but felt only Ton’Skel in the shuttle.

Easing up behind it, he put two rounds into the back of the animal, making sure he aimed at both hearts. Circling toward the second Silverback, he repeated the approach and shots, loaded a new magazine, and made for the shuttle. “Open up, Jace. I’m melting out here.” He saw the ramp come down and Ton’Skel standing at the top of it, almost hopping from foot to foot.

“You got them! I watched it with the captain on the cameras. They did not do as you told me.”

Fargo glanced at him as he stripped off the jacket and underlayers, putting his shirt back on at last. He went to the autochef and got a bulb of enhanced water, drank it, then another before finally slumping on a couch. “What didn’t they do? He asked.

“They did not split completely. They were…maybe one hundred thirty degrees apart.”

Fargo shrugged. “Not all of them do the same thing. Unpredictable is the name of the game.” Looking up, he added, “You might want to get rid of the heavy clothes before we go back out. It’s seventy degrees warmer down here.” Ton’Skel quickly stripped out of his heavy gear, putting on just a shipsuit and waiting impatiently, alternately looking at the closed hatch and Fargo.

“They aren’t going anywhere. I want to rest a minute and let the adrenalin dump get out of my system before I go skin them out.”

Jace stepped out of the cockpit, when into the fresher, did his business, and came back to them. “It might be better to stay here tonight and move in the morning to the second location.”

Fargo nodded. “I still need to skin these two out, and I want to see if anything comes to poach them. If we wait until tomorrow morning, less chance of the other pair setting up on us before I’m ready.” He got up with a groan and picked up his rifle. “Okay, Ton, let’s go see if we can get these two skinned out.”

Two divs later, Fargo and Ton’Skel were back aboard, the two pelts securely stored in a cold compartment on the exterior of the shuttle as the sun set in the east. After a run through the fresher, they sat in two couches at the front of the shuttle and watched the vid screens as some large birds attacked the carcasses of the two Silverbacks. Ton’Skel said, “Big birds. They…” He made a downward motion with his hand.

“Pecking is what it’s called,” Jace said.

“Pecking and rip meat. Jaws very strong!”

“Actually, they are called beaks, Ton, but they are definitely strong. And they have claws on their wings to help them hold on to prey, along with their regular claws on their feet.”

“Many things here have claws,” Ton stated as he inadvertently flexed is claws out.

Fargo yawned and grumbled, “Y’all can talk, just do it quietly, I’m going to sleep now.” He pulled a curtain out of the headrest and over his face as Jace chuckled and Ton’Skel looked over at him.


Early the next morning, Jace lifted the shuttle and moved the two hundred miles to the second location. Due to the rocks, they searched for over a div before finally locating the two Silverbacks on a steep slope above the tree line. The closest landing place was about two miles from them, in a high meadow that dropped off precipitously on one side.

Fargo loaded his rifle and stepped out, scanned the meadow, noting lots of rocks mixed in the scrubby grass, and grimaced. The temps were noticeably colder, and he was laboring to breathe. Lousy footing. Must be fairly high up. Probably over seven thousand feet. Extending his senses, he could not sense the Silverbacks and went back to the shuttle, closing the ramp behind him.

“It’s going to take them a while to get here, if they come. If not, I guess I’ll try shooting them from the ramp.” Slumping in a couch, he said, “Jace, let me know when you spot them on IR, will you? I’m going to take a nap. We’re pretty high up.”

Jace smiled, “I’ll do that, and pressurize so you have more O2.”

Some time later, Ton’Skel lightly tapped his boot. “Captain says he sees them coming down the mountain.”

Fargo groaned and rolled out of the couch. “Thanks, Ton. Guess it’s time to get busy. Lemme hit the fresher and I’ll get out there. Hopefully, this won’t take long.” Ten segs later, he stood facing the direction the Silverbacks were approaching from. Dropping into an almost trance like state, he stood still, waiting. Suddenly, the first Silverback appeared at the edge of the clearing directly uphill from him. It dodged in and out of the trees, moving to his left as it slunk into the meadow.

The second Silverback moved to his right, in the shadows of the trees, but in the meadow. He couldn’t help but worry as he stood there. Should have just shot them off the ramp. This is stupid. Too close. Way too close. Fargo took a deep breath, knowing the attack was coming momentarily, settling himself. As the first Silverback screamed, the second charged from the side. Fargo wheeled, fired seven rounds into that one as it leaped, and stepped back as he spun back the other way, firing seven more rounds into the first Silverback that was almost on him. The Silverback knocked him rolling, and he bounced to his feet as quickly as he could, but neither of the Silverback moved. He stepped around and fired into the aft pelvis of both Silverbacks, his hands shaking on the rifle.

Quickly slapping a new magazine into the rifle, he rotated in a complete circle, his sense extended as far as it would go. He didn’t sense any further predators within range, and he relaxed slightly. Looking up at the ship, he waved, then took out his vibroknife to skin out the Silverbacks.

He heard a roar, turned, and rolled to his feet, rifle in hand as he saw Ton’Skel jump on the back of another Silverback that had come out of nowhere. He froze for a moment, unable to process what he was seeing. Snapping the rifle to his shoulder, he tried to get a shot, but the two rolled and clawed at each other in a furball, moving too quickly for him to take a chance. They were also raising a dust cloud as he dropped the rifle and looked frantically for his vibroknife. I can’t let him get killed! No…not now. He projected, “Jace, I need your help! Ton’s in a fight with a Silverback and I don’t have a shot!”

“Five seconds,” was the answer as he ran toward the roaring, yowling mass. When he got there, he danced around trying to get his knife into action, but his reactions weren’t fast enough. Suddenly there was a loud crack, and the Silverback slumped to the ground. Ton’Skel rolled off it just as Jace pounded up.

Ton’Skel looked up at Fargo. “I…think I killed,” he panted. “First kill.” A clawed hand slipped down to his waist, and Fargo saw blue green blood pulsing from Ton’Skel’s side.

Jace picked Ton’Skel up as if he were a baby, cradling him as he turned and sprinted for the shuttle. By the time he got there, Ton’Skel was lying in a couch as Jace threw the first aid kit at Fargo. “Get him bandaged as well as you can. He’s going to need a medbox sooner rather than later if he’s to survive.” He turned to the cockpit, adding, “As soon as you can, get in a couch and I’ll push the Gs up.”

Fargo realized the shuttle was already moving as he looked down at Ton’s torn abdomen. He slapped bandages on him. “Why in the hell did you do that? That was the stupidest thing…you should have let me die, damn you!” Reaching under Ton’Skel, he put more bandages on his right hip and slumped in the couch next to him, holding an oxygen mask to his face. “In my couch. Do what you need to.” He would have screamed if he could, as the G forces hit. Dimly he thought, Didn’t know this shuttle could do that. Wonder if the Gs will kill Ton before we get to the ship?


So apparently the ‘new’ mantra with Xiden is that he wants America to be liked…

He never said anything about America being respected!


To like is to find a person or thing agreeable, enjoyable, or satisfactory.
To respect is to hold feelings of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.

The problem, if you will, is that being ‘liked’ means that you must be agreeable to all those around you… I don’t know if anyone listened to Xiden’s rambling address/press conference yesterday morning, but it was a horror story.

He couldn’t remember WHO he talked to, much less when/where. One thing he said, that scared the hell out of me, was that the Chinese ‘envoy’ wanted the US to lessen its ties to India, Australia, and Japan. This would impact SEATO, ANZUSMCAS, all critical to the defense of Southeast Asia and our forward deployed assets and bases.

For those who are not familiar with it, WESTPAC is ‘known’ for the ‘tyranny of distance’… And there are a TOTAL of 26 ships and submarines based in either Guam or Japan… 26… to cover 47,876,667 square miles!

A little more ‘scale’ for you…

2 1/4 USAs by 3 USAs… 6300 miles by 8400 miles. One quick example, by being ‘forward deployed’, the ships are 17 steaming days closer to the action/requirements…

Sooooo, under the ‘last’ administration, there was no ‘lessening’ of support for our allies, nor was there any kowtowing to China. China’s stated ‘goals’ of owning out to the second island chain and bringing Taiwan back into their ‘sphere’ were stymied.

Now??? I’m afraid of what Xiden is going to agree to… and whether or not he will even remember it. If China controls to the second island chain, which by the way is all the way out to Guam, they will effectively control ALL shipping in the Pacific ocean. ALL OF IT! What would be the global impact?

Think about it…

Your thoughts?


Our American Legion post hosted an IBCA cook yesterday…

Discounting the two plus months of planning, we truly hit the ground running (sometimes literally) Thursday. Sponsors, vendors, cooks, volunteers, and, and, and all had to be coordinated. It was all hands on deck starting Friday morning through the overnight, and most of the day yesterday.

But it came off pretty well, at least in the quick look we had as we were tearing down yesterday afternoon. It never got over 100 degrees, close, but never over. It didn’t rain (skirted us between 0400 and 0600 yesterday morning), and the cooks were able to cook in ‘decent’ weather. We even had mild temps and a nice breeze in the morning.

We had some special guests, including military working dogs (yes, the shepherd on the left is a MONSTER).

Air Evac out of Duncan, OK brought a 206A down, along with one of the Red Cross disaster recovery units in the background.

Me? I was out back fixing hot dogs…

We also served who cooked (starting at 0600 with breakfast burritos), while the ‘real’ cooks were getting their smokers going.

We also had the local FD, PD, Sheriff’s Office and Boy Scouts represented, thanks to them for coming out!

I r tired… I go to bed…ZZZzzzzzz


I don’t normally put up videos, but this lady IS a throwback… And bless her for being one! She takes on the Carmel NY school board and it is BEAUTIFUL!!!

Kudos to her!

And Loudoun County, VA school board got slapped down by the courts, they have to give physical education teacher Byron Tanner Cross, who was suspended days after telling the school board he would not refer to transgender students by their preferred pronouns because of his religious beliefs, his job back… LOL

Full article, HERE.