Top five…

WORST gun reports of 2017…

President Donald Trump and the Republican-controlled Congress are strongly pro-Second Amendment, which means new gun control laws were dead on arrival in 2017.

But the mainstream media, not to be quietly defeated, exposed its anti-gun bias more than ever this year.

The national newspapers and left-wing TV networks continued to churn out unbalanced reports on gun crime and laws, while refusing to learn accurate terminology. Here are the top offenders.

Compiled by Emily Miller, HERE, we have the usual ‘stars’, if you will…

USA Today, CNN, NBC News, The Economist (which is odd, they are usually pretty straightforward), and last but not least, AP…

Some of these are just mind boggling in their stupidity, and/or their blatant bias!

Read ’em and remember, they ARE still out to get us. Just because we have Pubs in all three executive branches doesn’t mean the left/libs/Brady Bunch aren’t twisting stories and sliding money to people to catch us off guard and take more of our rights.

Since the weather sucks…

A little travel ‘humor’ for those who haven’t dealt with roonserbice…


The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest and room-service in a hotel… I may have had a very similar one a time or two, since then I’ve gone down to the restaurant…

ROOM SERVICE: “Morrin. Roon sirbees”.
GUEST: “Sorry, I thought I dialled room service”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Rye. Roon sirbees… morrin! Joowish to oddor sunteen???”
GUEST: “Uh… Yes, I’d like to order bacon and eggs”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Ow ulai den?”
GUEST: “….. What??”

ROOM SERVICE: “Ow ulai den?!?… Pryed, boyud, pochd?”
GUEST: “Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry.. scrambled, please”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Ow ulai dee bayken? Creepse?”
GUEST: “Crisp will be fine”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Hokay. Ansahn toes?”
GUEST: “What?”

ROOM SERVICE: “An toes. ulaisahn toes?”
GUEST: “I… don’t think so.”.

ROOM SERVICE: “No? Udo wan sahn toes???”
GUEST: “I feel really bad about this, but I don’t know what ‘udo wan sahn toes’ means”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Toes! Toes!… WhyUoo donwan toes? Ow bow Anglish moppin we botter?”
GUEST: “Oh, English muffin! !! I’ve got it! You were saying ‘toast’… fine… yes, an English muffin will be fine”.

ROOM SERVICE: “We botter?”
GUEST: “No, just put the botter on the side”.

GUEST: “I mean butter… just put the butter on the side”.

GUEST: “Excuse me?”

ROOM SERVICE: “Copy… tea.. meel?”
GUEST: “Yes. Coffee, please… and that’s everything”.

ROOM SERVICE: “One Minnie. Scramah egg, creepse bayken, Anglish moppin, we botter on sigh and copy… rye ??”
GUEST: “Whatever you say”.

ROOM SERVICE: “Tanjooberrymutts”.
GUEST: “You’re welcome”

YMMV, and your ‘toes’ may be burnt or cold, or both… And don’t ask what the ‘jelly’ is. You really don’t want to know…

h/t Frito


Reminder, the Taurus settlement deadline is looming!

The class action agreement over defective handguns by gun maker Taurus issued a reminder that the deadline to file a claim is approaching.

If owners want to trade in the infamous Taurus pistol for cash or have their gun repaired, they must file a claim by Feb. 6, according to last week’s announcement.

In exchange for the defective handgun, participants will receive up to $200 in cash. The other option is for an “enhanced warranty benefit” in which Taurus will inspect and repair the pistol for no cost and then continue to provide a lifetime warranty.

The company will cover shipping and handling costs, but asks class members to review state and federal regulations before shipping the materials. Detailed instructions are found on the settlement website.

The settlement website also clarifies that the time has passed for those wanting to exclude themselves from participating in the settlement, which would have opened up the possibility to file suit over the claims alleged in the case.

The lead plaintiff in the case, a sheriff’s deputy from Iowa, was injured when his Taurus pistol discharged when the handgun hit the ground after it fell out of its holster as he pursued a fleeing suspect. He never touched the trigger.

In 2016, a federal court approved the settlement agreement, which could cost the company up to $239 million. A range of Taurus pistols contain an alleged defect that allows the gun to discharge if dropped.

Taurus pistols subject to the defects include the Millennium, Millennium Pro, Millennium Pro Compact, Millennium Pro Sub-Compact, 24/7, and others.

A federal court will hold an status conference on Jan. 17 for attorneys representing both the class and the company.

h/t Rick

Wily road crews…

Have apparently found a way to cut the cable yet again for AT&T, so no Internet. The best thing I can say is go read the folks on the sidebar, they are much more entertaining than I am anyway. Hopefully it’ll be fixed by tomorrow sometime…


Some things just aren’t messed with…

Ham, Hoppin John, a mess of greens, and cornbread.

Why that meal? Well if you’re Southern, the pig symbolizes health and progress, the Black-eyed peas symbolize luck, the collard greens symbolize prosperity, and cornbread was a southern staple. And they remind us to be humble…

Legend has it that General Sherman thought Black-eyed peas were considered animal food (like purple hull peas). The peas were not worthy of General Sherman’s Union troops. When Union soldiers raided the Confederates food supplies, legend says they took everything except the peas, salted pork and corn meal. The Confederates considered themselves lucky to be left with those meager supplies, and survived the winter.

They are also considered ‘soul food’, as the slaves were eating the same things, and everyone was happy to have anything to eat in 1863!

Besides, it’s damn good food! 🙂

Happy New Year!!!

Now go forth and screw up those checks for the next month or so…LOL

Wishing each of you the best for 2018, may the year be productive, with things going your way this year!!!

OBTW, it’s 11 degrees this morning, and I’m going back to bed until it warms up…


36 yesterday morning, by 5pm it was 24! Damn North wind… That barbed wire fence in Montana ain’t doing worth a damn as a windbreak!!!

In other news, this has been attributed to “US” by Paul Genova

I haven’t said too much about this election since the start, but this is how I feel. I’m noticing that a lot of people aren’t graciously accepting the fact that their candidate lost. In fact you seem to be posting even more hateful things about those who voted for Trump. Some are apparently “triggered” because they are posting how “sick” you feel about the results.

How did this happen you ask? Well here is how it happened!
You created “us” when you attacked our freedom of speech.

You created “us” when you attacked our right to bear arms.

You created “us” when you attacked our Christian beliefs.

You created “us” when you constantly referred to us as racists.

You created “us” when you constantly called us xenophobic.

You created “us” when you told us to get on board or get out of the way.

You created “us” when you attacked our flag

You created “us” when you took God out of our schools.

You created “us” when you confused women’s rights with feminism.

You created “us” when you began to emasculate men.

You created “us” when you decided to make our children soft.

You created “us” when you decided to vote for progressive ideals…

You created “us” when you attacked our way of life.

You created “us” when you decided to let our government get out of control.

You created “us” the silent majority

You created “us” when you began murdering innocent law enforcement officers.

You created “us” when you lied and said we could keep our insurance plans and our doctors.

You created “us” when you allowed our jobs to continue to leave our country.

You created “us” when you took a knee, or stayed seated or didn’t remove your hat during our National Anthem.

You created “us” when you forced us to buy health care and then financially penalized us for not participating.

 And we became fed up and we pushed back and spoke up.

  And we did it with ballots, not bullets.
  With ballots, not riots.
  With ballots, not looting.
  With ballots, not blocking traffic.
  With ballots, not fires, except the one you started inside of “us”

  “YOU” created “US”.

It really is just that simple. And the problem is, we have LONG memories… And money, and time… Your backers will drop out when it’s no longer in their interest to support you, then what will you have? Do you really think mommy and daddy will support your pathetic efforts, pay for your bail money, your lawyers, your travel?

I think not…

Oh, and physically intimidate us? Really? You  are going to intimidate a combat veteran with your silly mask and cloth cap? Or an old man and his wife, walking to their car? Did you ever hear about the one old man, with one gun, and the bluing all worn off? Or that grandmother whose purse goes ‘clunk’ when she sets it down?

I think not…

The Grey Man- Update redux….

There were enough comments/suggestions/recommendations I figured I’d post this again after the rewrite to see if y’all thought I did a better job…

Round two!


Aaron sighed as he turned onto I-10, Three more days of patrol, three more days of second shift, and then I get a desk. Am I making the right

A black late model Charger blew by him at well over the speed limit, and he grabbed the mic keying up, “Dispatch, two-oh-one, eastbound ten from Hovey Road, pursuit of a late model dark colored Dodge Charger, speeding, no plate yet.”

“Roger, two-oh-one.”

After a mile or so of slowly closing, he hit the lights and siren, and saw brake lights come on. As he closed quickly on the car, it suddenly braked hard, and pulled off onto the shoulder. “Out with a stop, just east of Mendel Road, plate is Texas, bravo, kilo,” Aaron got out of the Tahoe and started walking up, “Uh, tango, three,” he saw movement on the passenger’s side of the car and shouted, “Stay in the car, do not…” He unconsciously moved to get out of the light, as flame blossomed three times from the passenger’s side door.

He felt an impact low on his left side, and a second in the center of his chest, as he dove for the ground, fighting to get his pistol out. Gravel spurted from the rear of the car as it fishtailed and accelerated off the shoulder, and Aaron managed to get off two shots as the car sped away. “Shots fired shots fired, dispatch. Charger is running east.”

Dispatch came back, “Two-oh-one are you injured?”

Panting, Aaron scrambled back into the Tahoe and resumed the pursuit, “Negative, hit me in the vest, I’m okay.. I got two rounds off at the car. Guessing more than one occupant. Tinted windows, I was shot at from the passenger’s side.” Flooring the accelerator, he pounded on the wheel, “Come on you sumbitch, get up to speed.” The Tahoe topped out at 130, but he was slowly closing the distance again, and wondering what to do next.

He vaguely heard dispatch go out with an all call on the pursuit, stating the occupants were considered armed and dangerous. Aaron keyed up, “Passing Firestone, still in pursuit,” as he closed slowly on the Charger. “Off at Dickinson, still eastbound.” In the distance he saw another set of red and blue lights come on, and the Charger dived down a side street, “Now south on… Sycamore.” He wrestled the Tahoe around the corner, floored the accelerator again, cussing as the Charger sped away from him.

He saw a stab of brake lights, and a cloud of dust, “Attempted left on fifth, may have dumped it.” Jumping on the brakes, he manhandled the Tahoe around the corner, only to see the Charger disappearing in the distance again, “Charger is eastbound on fifth, passing the middle school.” He heard other units closing on the area, and said, “Armed and dangerous. Still east on fifth. Late model Charger, Texas tag bravo, kilo, tango, three, don’t have last two numbers.”

As more city cars and other deputies got involved, Aaron realized he was leading a parade, so to speak, as first one, then two more cars fell in behind him.  “Crossing Railroad, still east on fifth. Car is weaving,” he called, as he bounced over the tracks.

Deputy Ortiz called in, “Two-fourteen, I’ll deploy stop sticks at fifth and Rooney. In position now.”

Aaron also saw two patrol units turn onto 5th heading west, as brake lights came on and tire smoke erupted from the Charger. The driver tried to turn left, but spun and hit the corner of the bank building, as Aaron keyed up, “Ten-fiftied at Fifth and Main, car hit the bank building.” As he tried to get the Tahoe stopped, he saw a shadowy figure run toward the back of the building, “Runner headed east on Fifth!” Easing up on the brakes, he rolled through the intersection and half way to Water Street before coming to a stop. He jumped out of the Tahoe, wincing as his feet hit the ground, he grabbed his Streamlight out of the holder, and drew his pistol. A quick scan didn’t show a running figure, so he limped slowly toward the drive up area, scanning back and forth.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he turned toward it, extending the light away from his body as he did so. A black male, in a dark track suit, as visible partially hidden behind the dumpster at the back of the bank building, “Hands, let me see your hands,” Aaron yelled.

The figure crouched and Aaron sidestepped to get a better view of the man, as he yelled, “Stand up, let me see your hands!” He saw the man come up with his hands, then saw the blossom of gunfire again, and fired two rounds at the man as he felt an impact on his leg and started falling. Shit, not again! Did I hit the sumbitch? As he fell on his left side, he lost the Streamlight, and rolled quickly onto his chest. As he brought his pistol up again, he thought,  Damn, why does my chest hurt so bad? Am I having a fucking heart attack, on top of…”

He heard somebody key up, “Officer down, shots fired, Pecos County Bank.” Aaron kept his gun trained on the dumpster, but no further gunfire came from there, and he rolled over as he heard Sergeant Alvarez yell, “Perp is down. Somebody check on the officer!”

Aaron holstered his pistol and slumped back as Deputy Ortiz ran up, “Aaron? Are you…”

“I got hit in the left leg, Danny,” Aaron said as he groaned and tried to sit up, “and I might have taken one in the vest too.”

Ortiz shined his light down Aaron’s leg and saw blood on the outside of his thigh, “Looks like you were hit in the thigh.” Keying his radio, he said, “Dispatch, two-fourteen. Need an ambulance, Fifth and Water, officer needs transport with gunshot wound.”

Leland from City was cutting Aaron’s pant leg open, and shined his light on the leg, “Looks like a graze, not a through and through,” Moving his light up, he said, “I see a hole in your shirt, lower left.” He cut the shirt away, and saw the vest had absorbed the round. “One hit lower left abdomen.” Moving the light up, he saw that Aaron’s body camera was destroyed, And shook his head. “Damn, that was a center punch!” Gently sliding his hand under the vest, he said, “No blood, but back plate deformation.”

Aaron moaned, “That fucking hurt.”

“Sorry man, just trying to see if you’re bleeding anywhere else.”

Dispatch replied, ‘Ambulance in route. Land line please.”

Ortiz fumbled out his phone as he propped Aaron up and dialed dispatch, “Lisa, Aaron Miller was shot in the leg, and hit twice in the vest. He’s conscious and alert, waiting on an ambulance to transport him.” 30 seconds later, the dying growl of an ambulance could be heard as the other officers gathered round Aaron.

Sergeant Alvarez said, “Good shoot Aaron, you nailed the perp in the head and throat. He won’t be shooting at any of us again, but I’ll need to get your weapon for the investigation.”

Aaron nodded, “They’re taking me to the hospital, I guess. Meet me there?”


Aaron suddenly realized he needed to call Jesse, and pulled his phone out, thankfully it hadn’t been hit or broken, and he hit Jesse’s number. After a couple of rings, he heard her answer and said,
“Honey, I got in a shootout tonight. I’ve been hit in the leg, but I’m okay. They are getting ready to take me to the hospital. Can you meet me there?” He listened for a minute, and said, “No, I’m okay. Really. I think it’s just a flesh wound. They’re here, and I gotta go. Love you.” He slid the phone back in his pocket, and slumped back as the medic and EMT puffed up with the gurney.


Jesse knocked on the old man’s door, “Papa, Aaron’s been shot and they are taking him to the hospital, he called and said he’s not bad. I’ve got to go!”

The old man grunted, “Get Felicia down here. As soon as she gets here, I’ll be there.”

Jesse nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her, “Okay.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she dialed Felicia, hitting the speaker button as she grabbed her purse and looked for a jacket, “Felicia, Aaron’s been shot and is on the way to the hospital. Can you or Matt come watch the kids until I get back?”

Felicia replied, “Of course, any idea how bad?”

“Aaron called and said he was hit in the leg. That’s all I know right now.”

“Give me five minutes and unlock the back door.”

“Okay, Papa will be here.” With that, Jesse hung up the phone, dropped it in her purse, and checked to make sure she had her credentials and her pistol. Boo Boo whined, sensing something was wrong, and Jesse said, “Quiet girl, don’t wake the babies, please.”

The old man came out of his room, buttoning his shirt, “Felicia on the way?” Jesse nodded and he continued, “Go, I’ll catch up with you there. Drive careful.”

Jesse grimaced, “I will, I just hope…”

“Go.” Jesse headed for the door, and the old man called the dogs, “Yogi, Boo Boo, come.” He walked through the kitchen to the back door, opened it, and let the dogs out. He headed for the office, pulling his gunbelt off the rack, and buckling it on. He slipped the radio out of its charger, turned it on, and headed back to the kitchen as he heard the dogs nails scrabbling on the floor. He met Felicia in the kitchen and said, “Thank you for helping out.”

Da nada, Señor. I pray Aaron is okay. Please go and don’t worry about the babies.”

He nodded and headed for the door. As soon as he got the car started, he keyed the mic, “Dispatch, Car four, enroute hospital.”

“Car four, dispatch, copied all. Sheriff has been notified and is also enroute.”

“Rangers been called?”

“Ten-four. ETA is one hour.”


Ranger Michaels leaned back in the chair note pad in his lap and reached up, shutting off the recorder sitting on the hospital table, “Thanks Aaron, I appreciate your willingness to give me a statement, especially right now, and without a lawyer present or any pain pills.”

Aaron started to shrug his shoulders, but said, “Ow, damn, I hurt. No problem Levi, I trust you. I’d rather get it over with, and hopefully it’s all on the dashcam and body camera. You know what’s weird? I never heard a single shot he fired, or I fired.” Glancing over at his prosthetic lying on the floor, he said, “Not sure what I’m going to do about that. You need it for evidence?”

Michaels looked at it and asked, “Why?”

“Jesse?” Jesse picked up the prosthetic and handed it to Aaron, as the foot dangled loosely. “He shot me in the foot, in addition to the thigh and the vest.” Wiggling the foot, he said, “It’s not supposed to do that, Levi.”

Michaels replied, “Maybe. Can I take it with me? Do you have a spare?”

Aaron nodded, “This is the spare, my good leg is getting maintenance at Fort Sam. But I’ve got a running leg I can use in the interim.”

“Okay, thanks. Um, the not hearing a shot, I think they call that auditory exclusion. You heard it, you just never processed it.”

Sheriff Rodriquez said, “You’re on admin anyway, until the investigation is completed, so it’s not like you’re going to be doing any patrolling. Levi, you need anything else from us?”

Michaels said, “Not right now. I’ve got to go do the scenes. Downtown first, then back out to the original scene. Apparently, Sergeant Alvarez pulled a goodly amount of cocaine out of the car, and they found another gun in the driver’s floorboard.”

Aaron asked curiously, “Did they get the driver?”

The sheriff and Ranger looked at each other, and the sheriff finally said, “He died at the scene. Apparently you got a round into him, and he broke his neck when they crashed. No seatbelt.”

Aaron grimaced, “Damn, I didn’t know that.”

The sheriff shrugged, “You were a bit occupied at the time. Doc Truesdale says he’s going to keep you overnight, just in case. He’s a little worried about the chest trauma from the two rounds in the vest, and he’s got to stitch up the thigh wound.”

Aaron grunted, “Yeah, they do hurt like a bit…”

Jesse said, “You can say bitch. It’s not like I haven’t heard that before.”

Aaron sighed, “I know, but I’m trying to clean up my language, especially around the kids. Speaking of that, who?”

The old man answered, “Felicia is watching them. I’m going to leave Jesse here with you, and I’m going to go examine the scenes with Levi.”

Doc Truesdale strolled in, “Are you done with my patient to the point I can hit him with some good drugs and let him get some rest? I swear, I spend more damn time patching up you Cronins than I do anybody else in town!”

The old man picked his hat up, “He’s all yours Doc. I have to go to work, no thanks to Aaron. You and Jesse can fight over him.”

Doc rolled his eyes, “Okay John, get the hell out of here so I can get him patched up, and leave him to Jesse’s tender ministrations.”


The old man pulled in behind the Ranger’s Tahoe, and climbed slowly out, noting the police tape surrounding the car, stretching down the street to Aaron’s Tahoe, and into the drive through behind the bank. He saw that the city had a couple of portable light stands set up, and after he signed in, he made his way over to Sergeant Alvarez, who nodded, “Captain.”

“How goes it Luis?”

“Lucky. Aaron was lucky, not once, but twice. And he took the brunt of it, rather than our officers. Hate that he had to put the perps down, but I don’t see it as anything but a good shoot.”

“Got time to show me the scene?”

“Sure. The Ranger is out back. He’s already done the car and driver.”

They walked over to the crumpled dark gray Charger, the driver’s side door bent around the corner of the bank building. Alvarez bent down and pointed to the back door behind the driver, “Both of Aaron’s shots went in there,” walking around the other side of the car, he shined his light and pointed, “See the blood on the wall? Best guess is the driver broke his neck when he hit the wall with his head. When they pulled him out, he had one round in mid-back, probably got the lung. From the skidmarks, the car spun trying to make the corner, but it was already weaving the last couple blocks after they crossed Railroad. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy, but I’m betting he was bleeding out the whole time.”

The old man shined his light in the back, whistling, “Damn, good amount of drugs. Y’all already tested any?”

“We did, came up pure coke.” Ranger wanted it left until he can get enough pictures then we’ll have to weigh it, test all of it, and put it in evidence.”

“Any ID on them?”

“Yeah, two brothers out of Houston. Crips, from the look of them, between the tats and the colors.”

“Brothers? As in?”

“Bravo mikes, but actual brothers, too. Twenty-one and twenty-three, both out on parole for drug dealing. From the packaging, looks like they’d made a deal with Sinaloa and were doing a pickup and run back home.”

“So felons with guns. What a fucking surprise,” the old man said in disgust.

Alvarez shrugged, “Yep. Anyway, perp number two ran around the back of the building.” He and the old man walked down the side of the building and stopped at the back corner, looking at a dumpster pulled out at a 45 degree angle, pointing, “Perp two hid there. Aaron’s truck is where he stopped and got out, he was moving laterally toward the drive up.” Alvarez shined his light in the general direction of the drive up lanes, “About twenty yards from perp two. He said he caught movement and turned. Perp shot at him, he shot back, and won the battle.”

“Any idea where the perp’s rounds went?”

“Found a couple of chipped bricks in the front of the library. That’s probably where they went. Didn’t see any spent bullets, but who knows where they might have ended up.”

The flash of a camera momentarily startled the old man, and he looked sharply at the dumpster again, seeing Ranger Michaels standing up, camera in hand. “What are you finding, Levi?”

Michaels looked over, “Did you sign in, Captain?”

“Sure did. Sergeant Alvarez has been giving me the ten cent tour.”

Okay, come around in front of the dumpster at least ten yards out. I haven’t gotten all his tracks marked yet, but I don’t think he went that far. Maybe two-three yards.”

The old man stepped carefully to where Levi pointed and saw a body slumped against the wall, a Glock lying on the ground, and a splatter of blood just about where the top of the dumpster would be.

Michaels walked over, “Two rounds, one in the throat, one centered in the forehead. That is some impressive shooting on a two-way range, in the dark. Aaron must not have any nerves, or he’s just flat crazy.”

The old man shook his head, “No, he’s been in combat multiple times. He’s a former Marine Sniper, two, no three Silver Stars. His last go round, he took out a dozen or so Taliban, at bad breath range, in an alley, that was his third. I’d guess a one on one was a relief to him, and he was probably pissed they’d already hit him in the vest.”

Michaels whistled, “Didn’t know his background. I knew he was in the Corps, but he never said anything.”

“Just like you don’t talk about flying Harriers with folks that haven’t been there.”

Michaels ducked his head, “Point taken. Still impressive shooting.”

“Yep. Aaron practices religiously. As do Jesse and Matt.”

“Good to know.” Looking over, he said, “Sarge, can you tell the medics to bag this one, I’m done with him, but he needs to go to the hospital for an autopsy.”

Alvarez turned and yelled, “Medic up! Bag ‘em and tag ‘em.”

Michaels chuckled, “Gotta love ‘em. Now I’ve got to go find the first scene.”

The old man smiled, “Obrien is sitting on it for you. Just park behind him. You need any help?”

“Nah, I’ve got it. Just got to finish the documentation, and if I’m lucky, get home before the kids wake up. It’s supposed to be my turn to fix breakfast.”

“Good luck with that. Thanks for coming as quickly as you did.”

“No problem, tell Aaron I hope he gets better quick.”

“Will do, good night Levi.”

The medics came up, rolling the gurney and the Ranger pointed to the body, “All yours. The Doc is waiting on him.”

The medic nodded, “Got it. We’ll have him there in twenty minutes.”

The old man turned to Alvarez, “Well, I’m going to go to the house. Thanks for your support, as always.”

“No problem, Captain. It’s a team effort. I’ll sign you out. Tell Aaron we wish him the best.”

“I will. Thanks.”



The gangs are apparently upping the ante, yet again…

August of 2016 was one shooting with a rifle…

Then it escalated.

Two gangs — the Saints and La Razas — had been sporadically using rifles for six months. This would be the fourth rifle shooting in seven days. It would get much worse in the months ahead, something an officer at the scene seemed to sense.

Within a month, six more people would be wounded by rifles, three of them fatally. By year’s end, the toll from rifles would rise to nearly 20 wounded and 10 killed — and would keep rising.

Nearly a year and a half later, more than 140 people have been shot — 50 of them fatally — by gang members wielding rifles as their use has spread across the South and Southwest sides of Chicago.

Full article, HERE.

And then there is THIS set of interviews via HuffPo, of black gun owners. I noticed they didn’t interview a single black from Chicago, nor black instructors like Rick Ector, of Legally Armed In Detroit, or Kenn Blanchard, of Black Man with a Gun. Nor did I see any interview with a veteran… I know a number of black veterans that routinely carry in various states, and have never had a problem with law enforcement!

Personally, I think there is a ‘fear’ slant to the HuffPo article I that I find really frustrating, almost as if they (HuffPo) don’t want guns in any hands… But that may just be me. It’s almost as if Black Democrats – with or without the power of public office – who are most actively trying to keep guns out of the hands of black folks. Of course, I don’t discount the men behind the curtain, such as Bloomberg and Soros.

YMMV… As always…


To Democrat Friends:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2018, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other countries nor the only “America” in the Western Hemisphere. Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishes.

To Republican Friends:

A very Merry Christmas AND a Safe, Prosperous and Happy New Year!! 

And a follow-on…


A newlywed young man was sitting on the porch on a humid day, sipping ice tea with his Father.

As he talked about adult life, marriage, responsibilities, and obligations, the Father thoughtfully stirred the ice cubes in his glass and cast a clear, sober look on his Son.

“Never forget your friends,” he advised, “they will become more important as you get older. Regardless of how much you love your family and the children you happen to have, you will always need friends.  Remember to go out with them occasionally (if possible), but keep in contact with them somehow.”

“What strange advice!” thought the young man.  “I just entered the married world, I am an adult and surely my wife and the family that we will start will be everything I need to make sense of my life.”

Yet, he obeyed his Father; kept in touch with his friends and annually increased their number.  Over the years, he became aware that his Father knew what he was talking about….

Inasmuch as time and nature carry out their designs and mysteries on a person, friends are the bulwarks of our life.  After 60, 70, 80 years of life, here is what he (and you) will have learned:

Time passes.

Life goes on.

The distance separates.

Children grow up.

Children cease to be children and become independent.  And to the parents, it breaks their heart but the children are separated of the parents.

Jobs come and go.

Illusions, desires, attraction, sex….weakens.

People do not do what they should do.

The heart breaks.

The parents die.

Colleagues forget the favors.

The races are over.

But, true friends are always there, no matter how long or how many miles away they are. A friend is never more distant than the reach of a need, intervening in your favor, waiting for you with open arms or in some way blessing your life.

When we started this adventure called LIFE, we did not know of the incredible joys or sorrows that were ahead.  We did not know how much we would need from each other.  Love your parents, take care of your children, but keep a group of good friends.  Dialog with them but do not impose your criteria.

For all my friends (even those I seldom get to see) who have helped make sense of my life.