”Why should we care how wonderful he thinks he is?”
These are words from a column I wrote many years ago about Rush Limbaugh. I could have written it recently about Trump. Maybe he picked up this cheesy tactic from Rush? Maybe not: “blowhard” has applied ever since I first became aware of him in the 80s or 70s.
Who knows the exact year: I intend to ignore blowhards. I grew up with at least a few in the Carman family, and my mother’s family. Ignoring them as a kid faced with an arrogant adult who clearly has no high horse on which to parade around on while tossing insults and unwise nuggets they think “wisdom” was probably wise. Not one of them, however, were as bad as Rush or Trump. Well, maybe my Aunt Blanche. When my father told us she died he also said, “No one cried.”
For some inane reason politically immature kiddies love this kind of ego bloated blather: supposed ‘adults’ who treat politics like it’s all about your team who is always beyond amazing. The other team? …always ‘baaaaaaaaddddd.’ These are the kind of people who think a valid debating point is calling someone a “libtard,” making up a story about a non-existent basement in a pizza parlor to promote libel and slander is perfectly acceptable behavior. Whatever serves the cause. Read more
This is a crucial question: no matter who you support in ANY election.
I freely admit: I had statistics in public school and, if I remember right, twice in college. It wasn’t my major. I found it boring. I only took it because it was required with Liberal Arts and then because I switched to Communications/Mass Media from English and, yes, that was important enough for my new degree I had to at least sit in on the class. And again: this is what I seem to remember.
Nope: “I ain’t anybody’s statistician.” Read more
OK, maybe I was wrong. Maybe there is a “deep state.” And this “state” is indeed quite deep and has been failing miserably. But maybe, just maybe, the final, deepest, part of the deep state will win against the orange tyrant-wannabe.
So you can start doing your usual foam at the mouth rants, your usual name calling bullying, I’ll tell you who they all are. Maybe you can get the FBI to go after them instead. There are many, which makes the state deep indeed. There are millions. They are the American voters. Read more
…and conversational conversing.
I was arranging to show Harvey Robin Churchill at Wampsville, NY car show with Bill. Bill who?
You don’t know Bill. I don’t know Bill. And even though he said, “Hi, Ken!” when he answered he doesn’t know me either. He has caller ID.
Harvey Robin Churchill is our 1963 Studebaker Champ. I have had passion for Studes ever since I bought my first for $25 when I was 15. His name was Harvey too; named by Chris his former owner: a friend of my girlfriend at the time. Millie and I both loved Robin Williams and he is kind of, sort of, robin egg color. Harold Churchill pushed the Lark project through Studebaker. Stude’s truck in the 60s used the Lark cab because they couldn’t afford to redesign their trucks, but they needed to.
During our conversation I was having trouble figuring out when to “add my two cents” and when it was a pause, or not. This is not uncommon with cell phones, or even just these days. Cell phone conversations can be tough. Also, for a lot of reasons, conversation in society in general has dived deep into chaos and non-communication. Read more
Of course there’s a political/social aspect to this, dear readers, I’ll get there. I know: I meander sometimes. Makes writing a joy and I love discovering the connections between seemingly different topics.
Am I a control freak? I’ve never considered myself to be one. I can’t remember the topic, but I was in Union, Maine visiting my Aunt Arley many years ago (God, that was at least 15 years ago? Wow.) and my cousin Kate was there. We were weeding the garden of “some” famous Maine garden author with the same name: Arley Carman Clark, and something I said had Kate responding, “And control is very important to you, isn’t it?” I responded that I had never thought so. Yet, like so many things, it created an ongoing inner discussion and self examination.
I consider that healthy, though there’s an unhealthy aspect to it: I admit I tend to obsess from time to time about things I can’t forget. As some wife named ‘Millie’ once pointed out; I will probably never know the why, the how.
I suppose we all have control issues. Read more