Columnists

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

Remember awhile back I told you about raising my own orange grove and how the She, with all the good intentions in the world, killed ‘em with kindness and Miracle Grow, and how the “stone that was rejected by the builders had become the corner stone” of the orange grove. Well this is an update on the orange grove corner stone.

The single little orange tree was doing so well I decided to try my hand a apple production. Just saved the seeds of an apple that tasted really good, then done a search on how to grow apple trees. Followed the directions, and in what seemed like no time at all, I had six little apple trees looking up at me from the dirt. Pretty little fellers, them apple trees. I almost forgot to tell ya, I planted all those little apple seeds in the same pot as the orange tree.

When the apple trees reached a full six inches into the sky of the EastWing, I transplanted ‘em into individual pots. Each had for the first time in their young lives, their own little home. I was well on my way to an abundant supply of fresh apple pies, just have to wait a little while before the peeling begins.

Then along came the mild weather of February and early March. My little trees grew and grew as they stretched to the sunshine, they loved the sunshine of March as much as I did. It was as if my little trees were tiptoeing to reach the sunshine They were growing at such at rate I had to turn the pots each day to keep ‘em growing upright and not bending to reach for the sunshine. It was when the sunshine of March took the temperature into the 80’s that I decided to move my orchards to the great outdoors. After all it was just a one pot deal.

They laughed and they played, they swayed in the wind, their little leaves turning belly up to feel the warm sunshine, to signal the approach of the rain. Now all the while my majestic orange tree was standing head and shoulders, all eight inches of her, overlooking the Apple Orchard. And then it happened.

In my haste to usher in the onset of summer, I’d forgotten the fickle fate of an Indiana springtime. The cold came by. I had exposed the jewel of the orchard, the Orange Tree, to the elements of Mother Nature in a way she was not prepared to handle. The night time frost of northern Indiana. It was just not in her genomes to handle frost or freezing temperatures. Orange Trees just don’t do that sorta thing well. And my 8” high hope for the orange grove shivered and froze into the early April night as I slept safe and warm inside the EastWing.

Too late to save the leaves, I brought the orange tree back inside the EastWing, while leaving the baby apple trees to suck up to the spring time cold. Sure enough, the orange tree started to shed leaves like there was no tomorrow. I thought there was no hope for the baby orange tree. But much the same as life itself, it’s always darkest before the dawn.

When I was almost ready to admit that I’d killed my orange tree, the smallest speck of life seemed to appear on the top of an empty stem which used to hold an abundance of life sustaining leaves. I added water and prayer, then, as if the Gods of Orange Trees smiled upon me, within three days, I saw something, so small, so very, very small, but something. The orange tree was coming back to life. An Orange Phoenix emerged from a frozen stem inside the EastWing.

It’ll take a while to catch back up to where we were on that path to freedom of foreign orange juice, but we’ll get there now that the Orange Phoenix has emerged in the EastWing. Bear in mind that success is measured not by your failures in life, rather by the lessons learned from those failures along the way.

I learned a lesson from the exposure of the orange tree to the April Indiana weather. We’ll not walk that path again. The apple trees are just fine and will eventually find their final outside home in the dirt gardens of the EastWing. The Orange Phoenix is now destined to forever remain in the south window in the house of BobbyRay, the EastWing, the same place where she first started life. Pretty little Orange Phoenix Tree.

I don’t know if ya have to have a little boy Orange Tree and a little girl Orange Tree to get baby oranges or not. But we’ll cross that matter when the time comes, for right now I’m just content to look at the baby Orange Phoenix and marvel at the mystery of life itself and how things struggle to survive, even baby orange trees planted in the EastWing, from a seed from an orange from Florida. Life that should not have started in the EastWing in the first place, but once started, it never gave up. The gift of life. A gift only from God, an Orange Tree.

I may even plant some of those apple trees in the south gardens, just to watch them little fellers grow. I love growing trees from seeds. And I haven’t even told ya the story about that little maple tree I just started inside the pot with the Orange Phoenix. But that’s another story for another time. It’s one of those little helicopter things that ya see fly by in the springtime. Yeah, that kinda seed, I’ve got one winding up to take off.

Did ya ever want to just scream at what some people will do? The other day I came home from work, and right there just before I got to the drive way of the EastWing, right there along the south side of 800 South, the part I keep mowed and looking nice before ya get to my house, somebody had thrown out a big, big white plastic bag of garbage. It had broken open and spread 30′ foot mess along the road side on my newly mown grass .

Included in the garbage, along with the many dirty dippers and many other dirty personal female items. I’ll not go into detail, but if I was still in my Forensic Laboratory where I worked years ago, I had enough specimen to identify by DNA, at least one female along with one other person. Not only that crap was in the garbage, it also contained envelopes with the name and address of the owners of the garbage. I called ‘em up told ‘em I had their garbage and suggested they come to 800 South and clean up their mess.

I spoke to a woman on the phone and my suggestion was met with the big “F” word. Yeah, I’m telling ya the big “F” word right up, along with the “MF” word too. Did ya notice I didn’t say I spoke to a lady on the phone? There was no lady on the phone. When she even made reference to a mother during our conversation, I knew it was just not a lady on the phone. I’d reached that conclusion ever before she hung up on me.

After cleaning up the mess along the way, I decided to inquire into what laws were broken by the garbage along the roadside. After all, for many years I’d seen the signs on the state highways saying “$500 fine for littering” I figured it’d be at least $300.00 for littering along 800 South. And so I contacted the Indiana Department of Transportation, ‘cause it was their sign I remembered. Talk about a worthless piece of crap.

The state of Indiana referred me to the “local authorities”. When I asked which local authority I needed to contact, I was told the State of Indiana makes every effort to not be involved in local jurisdiction. Well, the level of help from the State of Indiana was so reassuring and it just made me glad to be called a Hoosier, by knowing the State of Indiana was on full duty and alert, while making every effort to make sure they’re not getting involved in local jurisdiction. Worthless piece of crap.

The “local authorities” told me that garbage along 800 S was a “low priority matter” and as such they had no interest in the name and address of the owner of the garbage along the way. It’s hard to tell who provided the most assistance in this matter, the State of Indiana of the “Local Authorities”.

After all was said and done, the response from the State of Indiana along with the response from the “local authorities”, I guess the response from the woman on the phone was acceptable considering it was up to the “local authorities” and they considered the dastardly deed of garbage dumping on 800 South a “low priority matter”.

Now you must keep in mind, the woman on the phone didn’t make the same reference to the “local authorities” mother in the same manner she referred to me as. Had she done so, maybe that would have changed her position of “low priority matter”. But I’ve never seen the “local authority’s” mother, so I don’t know if it would make a difference of not, maybe not. Ya just don’t know till ya see things.

I’m not too surprised at the response from the “local authorities”, after all, this is a county whereby county employees are actively soliciting donations from the business community in order to have an employee appreciation day party for EMS Employees.

I just can’t help but wonder should I go to the “local authorities” and ask for a donation so I can have a BobbyRay Appreciation Day? They asked me, so why not turn about being fair play. I wonder if the “local authorities” are even aware that their county employees are asking the community for donations to allow for employee appreciation day for EMS? Why not County Highway Employees Appreciation Day being next? After all, they’re the guys who plow the snow. And then the next group would be…….. And if we just kept that up, why, eventually we would even have an appreciation day for the “local authorities”.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the EastWing, The Orchard & The Frost, An Orange Phoenix, Garbage Along The Way, Indiana & Local Authorities, Beseeching Appreciation Day Donations By County Employees.

I wish you well,

BobbyRay

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

As we’re rapidly diving into the election campaign season to select the President of the United States, Sophia, the Calico Conservative Republican Cat is cranking up her forces to join the fray. With her side having pretty much determined who’ll face President Obama come November, Sophia’s now heavily involved in plotting a strategy for success according to her point of view.

Besides Sophia’s little set of dirty tricks, like making sure nobody ever forgets that the President likes to eat dogs, and has maybe, just maybe, eaten much worse than dogs, things that he’s just not yet admitted to eating, but he will if Sophia gets her way. Sophia even went as far as telling Mr. Bentley that the president said Pit Bulls are delicious. Now every time Bentley sees a black man, he runs and hides, while Sophia laughs.

It appears Sophia’s taking a call right out of the democrat, President Lyndon B. Johnson’s, playbook of dirty tricks. President Johnson was notorious for dirty politics, in fact, given the weak candidates this year, both the current president, as well as the assumed opposition, President Johnson would probably be able to dispose of both of ‘em on the same day, before breakfast and not even break a sweat. In fact, Johnson is credited with coining the phrase “no sweat”.

President Johnson is famous for telling his political henchmen that “You don’t have to accuse our opponent of F#@$&ing sheep, you simply have to get ‘em to deny it in public.” It turns out that it’s all in how you phrase the question. President Johnson was the acknowledged master of constructing the question. Not everybody knows it, but President Johnson was a former school teacher. I guess school teachers are just tougher in Texas.

Sophia said that she’s abandoning the farm animal approach for a much more sophisticated technique of mind games. Now remember Sophia has in her room, setting on her nightstand, an autographed picture of Herbert Hoover. It was in the presence of “The Hoover” when Sophia came up with the inspiration for attacking her opposition. And how better than the use of language?

Over the years much has been said about Herbert Hoover and his inapt handling of things when he was President of the United States. In fact, President Hoover receives undue criticism for world events beyond his control. President Hoover had an unusual insight into the real world of both life and politics, with an example such as “Economic depression cannot be cured by legislative action or executive pronouncement. Economic wounds must be healed by the action of the cells of the economic body – the producers and consumers themselves.”

It sure sounded like President Hoover didn’t think an economic bailout plan would work. Can’t help but wonder, do ya think it worked? Did it work for you?. That hope and change thing sure did change things. But I’m not too sure about the hope part, but the change…. Shewwww.

Late yesterday afternoon, Sophia asked me could I give her a definition for the word democracy. I thought I could, and so stated “ it’s the free and equal right of every person to participate in a system of government, regularly practiced by electing representatives of the people by the majority of those same people”.

When she asked me to define the word democracy I even remembered the words of President Jimmy Carter when he spoke to the Parliament of India, and said “Democracy is like the experience of life itself – always changing, infinite in its variety, sometimes turbulent and all the more valuable for having been tested for adversity.” I even surprised myself by remembering President Carter’s words, as he had such few things from his presidency worth remembering. But the democracy thing I just remembered that from Jimmy Carter and so I shared it too with Sophia.

She was not impressed. But with that Sophia smile, ya just gotta love it, as she looked at me and said “Jimmy who? Oh, was that the peanut guy?” Uhhh! Sometimes ya just want to say “Damn Republican Cat”, before it’s time to say it.

Sophia then asked if I could define the word “ Ineptocracy” I told her, define it , why, I’ve not ever heard of such a word. The cat said, “I’m glad you asked. Let me tell you about an important point in the upcoming election campaign. It’s Ineptocracy, pronounced as (in-ep-toc’-Ra-cy), it’s a system of government where the least capable to lead are elected by the least capable of producing, and where the members of society least likely to sustain themselves or succeed in anything, ever, they’re rewarded with goods and services paid for by the confiscated wealth of a diminishing number of producers.”

The politically savvy Sophia appears to have created a new word to turn loose on her democrat nemesis. It seemed to me that Sophia had returned to the President Johnson technique. Now when I read the definition for Sophia’s new word, that Ineptocracy thing, well, no matter how many times I read it, it still sounds like sheep to me, it even smells like sheep. Ya don’t have to accuse ‘em of it, just get ‘em to deny it in public. The original political tactics of a Democrat President from Texas, LBJ. Damn Republican Cat.

“Time and Tide Waits For No Man” When you’re 18 years old, ya never think of time or tide. Ya do later on. Now I’m in the process of planning a 50th year class reunion at Grand Central Station on Memorial Day Weekend. Yeah, 50 years out of high school.

One of the fun things about telling stories from the EastWing is the fact that several of my classmates from high school visit the EastWing on a regular basis. “Course ya never know how many have put me into their junk mail category. Oh well, things like that happen in life. Guess I’ve been called worse than junk mail from time to time.

And I always thought that stuff was for old people. Well, it turns out it’s not for old people at all, those 50th year reunion parties. They’re for the ones in life who have a mind set of “I’m still 18 in my mind, when I want to be”. So I’m telling the class of 1962 right up, if you went to high school with me and now consider yourself “ too old to party”, then you may not enjoy this 50th year class reunion as much as some.

On the other hand, it you want to go to a two day party, including both a pizza party within the party as well as a sock hop within the party, a sock hop that’s only playing music from 1958 – 1962, and even a breakfast thrown in there somewhere , all the while visiting with friends for life, we’ll all have a fun time at this class reunion that’s for sure. So says the Barbara, ‘cause I’m just the boy, the worker bee, the Barbara does the party.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the EastWing, Sophia & Sheep, Democracy, The Peanut Guy, Sophia’s New Word, Time & Tide & Me & The Barbara

I wish you well,

BobbyRay

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Several years ago, the Starke County Tourism Commission, with help from the Historical Society and the County Extension Office, received a grant from the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC. through the Indiana Humanities Council to photograph the barns in Starke County. Only a few of the 92 counties in Indiana received this type of grant. We probably didn’t find every barn, but, as I remember, we did photograph about 450 of the barns, corn cribs, windmills, and out-houses in Starke County. These can be seen on our website — http://www.scpl.lib.in.us/historical/ — and then click on Barns Again in the center of the page.

Hundreds of people viewed the Smithsonian Barn Exhibit at the Schricker Library in Knox. The Calico Quilt Club had a display of Quilts about barns and school children made beautiful drawings of barns and displayed them in the libraries in the county.

Because of this effort by the Smithsonian, many of the old barns in the United States have been saved and restored. In many states, people have started putting quilt patterns on their barns. Indiana has several counties that are doing this. Marshall County has a tour of their barn quilts. So does Randolph County, with 22 quilts already installed on barns and 27 more ready to go.

I only know of three barns that have quilt patterns on them in Starke County. I have attached a photo of mine. Grandfather built our barn in 1902. He died a month before I was born, so I never knew him except in articles and what was passed down from my father. So, this fall, with the help of my children, we put his name on the old barn, then we also added a quilt pattern. If you know of other barns (or other buildings) in the county with quilt patterns, please let me know. Maybe Starke County could have a barn quilt tour, also.

Jim Shilling
Starke County Historical Society

http://www.starkehistory.com

http://www.scpl.lib.in.us/historical/

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

There’re very few things more pleasant than watching the world turn green in the springtime, while the little sounds of the springtime night are beautiful music to my bionic ears. Now I’m not picking on any generation’s music, but those little springtime Peps, well, those little fellers make more music for my ears than a whole bus load of gangster rappers.

Maybe I’m just showing my age, but I could never “rap” my music tastes around that kinda crap. I tried, yes I did try, and could never connect with the sound. Then as technology brought me more hearing and better sounds, I realized “why them fellers are saying words that my Mama would slap my face to this day if I said that in public”. Dirty words=dirty music.

I never said cuss words in the company of my Mama, nor did I ever embrace the potty mouth language of the rap music culture. Am I too old, I don’t think so. I firmly believe the moral fabric of society is not determined, in part, by what one takes from, rather by what one contributes to.

It’s truly a stretch of one’s imagination to believe “music” that describes females in the most degrading, humiliating terms possible, using ghetto slang language, spoken overwhelmingly by those who are most dependent on some level of government for their very existence, that “music” does in fact contribute to society. Then so did Puff The Magic Dragon.

I’ll be proven right or wrong 100 years from now when those folks of the future remember the music of Elvis Presley, Mozart, the Beetles, Bing Crosby, or maybe, just maybe, they’ll remember the Snoop Dogg instead. That dirty talking Snoop Dogg.

I expect that many of those who visit the EastWing have never heard the music of Snoop Dogg. You may have heard the music and not understood or ever seen the written words. May I just suggest that you Google “Snoop Dogg” then take the time to read any, and I repeat any, of the lyrics of the Snoop Dogg music. I’ll bet that you will be shocked into silence to think such words are allowed on the public airways. I thought about printing the lyrics of one of Snoop Dogg raps. But decided this is a family show, so let those dirty words of rap music remain in the lowest bowels of hell, where they belong. Talk about ethnic profiling….WOW! We Hillbillies don’t talk that way. I’m telling ya, we just don’t say things like that, especially about girls.

Another sure sign of spring are those little moths dancing on the wing just outside the south window of the EastWing. By now I’m looking for the first sighting of the hummingbirds coming back to the EastWing, and every time those little moths flutter by, I think it’s the little humming birds back for the season. It’s still too early, but I’m already looking for ‘em. I’m ready to serve ‘em dinner when they’re ready to eat.

Even after to first deadline for income tax filing is passed, the work continues at a rather unexpected pace. And so it was in doing that work I came in contact with one of the most amazing people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in a long time, a long time.

She was 91 years old and damn proud of it. She demonstrated one of the most functional intellects I’ve ever encounter. This ole gal is sharp with a capital S. She made my day, in fact she made my whole week, maybe two weeks or even more, I’m still deciding that matter.

We talked of many things. But the thing that suck most in my mind was her comments about Common Sense. She said “Common Sense died, ya know, sad to say but I believe he died in my lifetime.” I asked her to tell me the story, and so she did. “He was a lot older than me and taught many lessons to me and everyone I grew up with. There was a time when everybody I knew, knew the lessons taught by Common Sense.”

“Knowing when to come in out of the rain. Why the early bird gets the worm. Life isn’t always fair. And maybe, just maybe it was my fault. It was kinda the gospel according to Common Sense. He had other things he preached too, such as don’t spend more than you earn and adults, not children are in charge of things.”

“Common Sense was attacked years ago by forces more concerned with self interest than those of Common Sense. Government regulations controlling everything and anything strayed more and more away from Common Sense. Public education was an early battle ground for Common Sense. A 6 year old was charged with sexual harassment for kissing another 6 year old in his class. Then a teenager was suspended from school for a full week for using mouthwash after lunch. It was considered using drugs on school property.”

“As things went from bad to worse in public education, Common Sense became more and more concerned as parents attacked teachers for doing the job of disciplining their children, a job they themselves had failed to do. The battle was lost in public education when schools had to get parental consent to administration an aspirin, but could not inform the parent when their child had become pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.”

“Common Sense could only watch as churches became multimillion dollar businesses, and some operated by crooks, while criminals received better treatment than victims of their crime. In open court, Common Sense cried, when it was determined that you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home, and that same burglar could in fact sue for assault if you done him harm.”

Common Sense received a death blow when a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She then proceeded to spill some on her lap and, in court, became an instant millionaire.

“Common Sense was proceeded in death, By his parents, Truth and Justice. By this wife, Discretion. By his daughter, Responsibility. And by his son, Reason.”

“Common Sense is survived by six evil cousins,

I Know My Rights! I Want It Now! Someone Else Is To Blame! I’m a Victim!

Pay Me for Doing Nothing! That’s Just Plain Racist”

She said in her 91 years of living, laughing, loving and life, the one thing most sad about it all is the death of Common Sense in her lifetime. Her story gave me chills. Chills from the questions inside my head, Is it true?

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From The EastWing, The World Turning Green, Dirty Words In Music=Dirty Music, Common Sense

From the EastWing,

I wish you well,

BobbyRay

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.
 
Another tax filing season comes to an end. Another reason to thank God for the life live. If ya stop and think about it, if you could pick and choose what time of the year that you would have to work day and night, seven days a week, what would you pick?
 
Why the winter time of course! Nothing to do outside anyways. Short days, long nights, might just as well work. And so I do. Long into the nighttime of winter. The cold of winter matters not if your job keeps you inside, and mine does.
 
Then along comes April, the world turns green, everybody wants to go outside and play. I go outside and play. For the rest of the year, after the rush of the tax filing season is completed,  almost all my work can be scheduled around the times I want it to be. My payroll work is predetermined to be Thursday and Friday. the routine accounting work is then scheduled for two nine hour days around the payrolls on Thursdays and Fridays.   
 
Now are you ready for this? I’m telling ya, for the rest of the year, it’s a 5 day weekend! Is that sweet or what? When ya look at it that way, working 16 hr days in January,  February, March, and half of April, well,  it’s a good trade off for the rest of the year.
 
90% Cocoa caught my eye at the checkout counter at CVS. It started at  60, 70, 80 and 90% Cocoa. Well beings that I like chocolate I decided to go for the one labeled “LINDT EXCELLENCE 90% COCOA” Unless you are tuff enough to eat cocoa right out of that Hershey’s Cocoa can, the one where the sides are made of paper and the bottom and lid are made of metal, yeah, that can, ya better stick with the 60 or 70% kind. 90% is way  too bitter for me. Oh well live and learn, even about 90% Cocoa.  I thought if 80% is good, 90% will be better, was not  better,  was bitter.   It’s amazing how, in the chocolate candy world, a single letter like e to i  can spell the difference between good and yuk.
 
Sophia the Conservative Calico Republican Cat has been surprisingly quiet while this republican primary season plays out. That all ended the other day when one of President Obama’s main operatives, David Axelrod, continued to push the issue of Mitt Romney   transporting a dog in a carrier on top of a car. It turns out that President Obama  never transported a dog on top of a car. But he has eaten a dog.
 
He said so himself, he even described how dog meat tasted. And no, he didn’t make any comparison to chicken. But I bet he wishes he’d never spoken those lines for his book.  Yet at the time, I’m sure, he thought it was a really cool thing to say. Sorta like a  “I ate dog and you didn’t” , kinda thing.  That just goes to show ya, the old saying “If ya eat dog, it’ll come back and bite ya in another life” must be right. Bark, bark, woof, woof, down boy. I wonder what else that guy ate that he didn’t tell us about?  Surly not that……No, no, oh no, surly not that…. But ya gotta wonder…. Some do.
 
Well the news of the president admitting that he ate dog meat had hardly been reported by 
CNN, when Sophia began tweeting the President’s Chef at the White House, proposing  The Pup Baby, Gray Lady James, and Bentley be the main course for the very next official State Dinner hosted by President Obama.
 
Sophia suggested  the White House Chef  tell the secret service people to come by and pick up the 2girldogs and Bentley any time at the EastWing. She also suggested a little rest and relaxation for the secret service workers, by visiting the Wooden Nickel in North Judson. Sophia said the Nickel may not be as lively as some of the places visited by the secret service of late, but it’s the wildest we got going at the local level, good pizza at the Wooden Nickel in downtown North Judson.  Sophia has not yet told the 2girldogs or Bentley about her trying to arrange ‘em a trip out of town.  Damn Republican Cat.
 
Did the weather change last Thursday catch ya by surprise the way it did me? Got up Thursday morning, looked outside into bright sunshine. Checked the temperature and saw it was 65° Now at the EastWing, when it’s 65° at 6:30 in the AM and the wind is from the south, well that’s a short sleeve kinda day for sure. I almost wore short pants but couldn’t find the ones I had in mind.
 
At noon I started across the street to have lunch with the She.  Well, I damn near froze  just crossing Lane Street.  A 24° drop in temperature and a wind shift from the north made the short sleeve shirt feel out of tune and out of time to say the least.
 
The Gods of Dumb Dressers for Springtime Weather smiled upon me that cold windy Thursday at noontime. As I shivered in my short sleeve shirt, the She offered me a heavy duty hoodie.   That was one thing I did not decline. The hoodie saved my Thursday. Got home that late Thursday afternoon and kept the hoodie on till bed time. Good thing I got regular PJ’s   else me and that hoodie, well, me and that hoodie, we’d for sure have been rolled into one big nighty night…..
 
Guess the next time I want to wear short sleeve shirt before May 1st I’ll look at both the temperature and the weather forecast. Now one additional back up has already been put into place, the hoodie has been relocated to the back room of the office of RHCO INC. Hoodies are handy. I didn’t even tell ya, my hoodie has a hand warmer pocket. Why you can put  both hands into the hand warmer pocket and twiddle your  thumbs and nobody would ever know. I tried, they didn’t know.
 
Yesterday I cut the grass for the first time at the EastWing. Most everybody else has been cutting grass for two weeks, not me. I had a reason, too busy at work. Now that excuse has run its course so I’m relegated to being lawn boy of the EastWing  once again. It don’t pay a lot but the title is kinda cool.
 
I like cutting grass. It gives me a chance to operate heavy equipment. I always thought it would be fun to run a bull dozer, never had a chance, just thought it would be fun. The largest machine I ever operate is Mr. Lincoln, and he’s kinda easy.
 
It was a sense right out of “Wild Kingdom” as it played out along the roadside  out there beyond the front gardens of the EastWing, along 800 South. I look up and a baby wood duck is walking down the road. Have no idea where the baby duck came from, it was just out there walking down the road. It’s easy to tell a duck, ‘cause if it walks like… and sounds like…. Even little quacks, and little waddles tell the tail.
 
The little waddle, that little waddle caught the attention of Spike The Man Cat who just so happened to be outside playing in the new mown grass. The most basic instincts  of The Man Cat came to the forefront. In the jungle, the mighty jungle, a lion walked the front gardens of the EastWing. A man cat.
 
Stay safe in Afghanistan.
 
From the EastWing, Changing Schedules, Good Candy-Bad Candy, Eating Dog & Bragging, Short Sleeve Shirts & Hoodies, Cutting Grass, Bull Dozer & Mr. Lincoln, If it walks like a …….and sounds like a ………

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This photo from 1912 shows the former residence of Starke County’s Sheriff. The attached jail was just out of view to the right. Gabriel Doyle was the sheriff at that time.

The facility had been built in 1887 and was located at the southeast corner of Mound and Pearl Streets in Knox, the same location as the jail today. This view is looking north.  The two story brick residence of the sheriff was one of the finest homes in Knox when it was built. It was an honor to be invited to the annual sheriff’s picnic, which was held on the south lawn. This was a formal affair attended by such folks as the Koffels, Peters, Vanderweeles, Bortz’s, Moormans, Longs, Whitsons and Hartzlers.

Jail picnic

The second photo shows the Jail, which was attached to the east side of the house and had a separate entrance on the south side. In the early days, there was also a stable located in the southeast corner of the lot, where the sheriff’s horses and buggies were kept. Starke County’s first sheriff was Jacob S. Wampler, who was appointed in 1850 instead of being elected like all later sheriffs. In 1914, the sheriff’s salary was $1,100 and the jail’s annual operating expenses were $700. In 1971, the Indiana Department of Corrections found the facility inadequate and recommended that the 84 year old facility be closed.

Jim Shilling
Starke County Historical Society

http://www.starkehistory.com

http://www.scpl.lib.in.us/historical/

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Greeting to all and welcome to new friends to the EastWing

Flipping Lady Like Bugs into space is playing hockey in the bug world. Every time I flip one of those little fellers into the unknown abyss, I can’t help but wonder if I did the right thing, yet I flip ‘em off , and it brings a whole new meaning to flipping ‘em off.

Did ya ever think you’d see a time when people would pay to drink bottled water? I’m telling ya, paying for drinking bottled water, SHEWWWW. And much of it is coming right out of tap water from whatever source is doing the bottling process. And to make matters worse, much of that bottled water, that bottled water has an expiration date. Can you believe that? Water that expires. Damn, and I always thought water was good forever.

I think that’s part of ObamaCare, putting an expiration on water. Heard the other day that they’re gona limit how much water folks like me, on Medicare, can drink. That way we’ll just dry up and blow away, and that’ll hold down the cost of Medicare. Of course they won’t propose that until after President Obama is reelected. A few days ago you may have heard in the news the president telling the Russians that he’d have more flexibility after the upcoming election. It was that old folks and water limitation he was talking about with the Russians. They may be already using it, and the president just stole the idea and gona blame it on Bush.

An interesting fact about water is the total volume of water on this planet has never changed from the creation of water on the planet up to and including today. The three states of water, solid, liquid and gas, well they’re changing all the time, all over the world, yet the total worldwide volume of water never changes.

A few years ago my company was hired by a company in Rolling Prairie IN, a company engaged in the business of packaging your product. It mattered not what your product was, this company would figure out how to package your product the way you wanted it packaged. They just packaged your stuff, to your specs.

When I got involved with this company, they were in the process of packaging three products, water, shampoo and those little paper packs of sugar. Putting one into the plastic bottle and one into the plastic tube and one into that little paper bag. I’d never encountered automatic assembly line production in my life. WOW! Was I ever impressed. Machines that did everything in the whole world. I’m telling ya, they put the shampoo in the tube. It was like putting the toothpaste into the tube, except it was shampoo. I’d squeezed it out, but had never seen it put in to begin with. I’d opened the little bags of sugar, but never seen ‘em filled. I was impressed. The shampoo goes in from the bottom side, and I bet the toothpaste does too.

The water came to this company by the freight railroad car from the Catskill Mountains, the shampoo by 6 thousand gallon truck loads from I don’t know where, and the sugar, well the sugar came in 1,000 lb bags that had to be picked up by forklifts and hoisted up into position to dump into a vat that filled the machine that filled the little bags. Each one injected into the automatic assembly line process at the proper time. Bottles were filled and tubes were filled and little bags were filled and products were distributed to the end consumer in an amazingly complex assembly process. I stood in awe.

I’d never seen such automation in my life. And I’d been hired to make recommendations to improve the efficiently of this company. Shewwww. But being a hillbilly who could read, and not wanting to act like I didn’t know what I was talking about, I said “Oh sure, I can improve this overall operation”. As I silently prayed “Hail Mary full of grace……” Now my Catholic friends will get that humor, for my non Catholic friends, that Hail Mary part, well, it’s a most basic prayer in the Catholic Faith, I’m asking Mary, the Mother of God, to assist me at my time of need. And Lord knows at that time, I needed the assistance of Mother Mary.

So I went about analyzing this business, this business of packaging your stuff. The automated side of the operation was beyond my ability of improve upon. It was in the non automated part of the business that I looked to find areas weakness. The administrative and management side of the company allowed me to justify my consulting fees. I wrote the report.

I met with the owner, who had financed the business by the use of 38 credit cards, because no one in the money lending business would loan him money for his “hair brain” idea of creating a company to package your stuff. The owner was one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever know. He was a mechanical genius who could design and create a machine to do anything he could envision. All his machines were one of a kind from his mind to his production line, to finished product. Into the bottle or into the tube, or into any other package you wanted, it mattered not. However ya wanted it, he could design a machine to make it happen. Then build the thing himself. Push the button and start the assembly line. It always worked.

I made the initial presentation and recommendations to this owner. He bought my plans for his company in total, and gave me the green light to produce the details of implementation throughout his company. We would meet again in eight weeks and put my plan in place. In the mean time he had been hired by the US State Department to go to Iraq and set up an operation to bottle water for the troops in the desert. Much the same type operation as in Rolling Prairie IN. We were to meet the week after his return from the desert.

A week before his scheduled return from Iraq, this man went missing in the sands of Iraq. He never returned home. His whereabouts have remained completely unknown. The Federal Government, who had contracted his services, has remained silent on this matter to this very day. It was with massive credit card debt, and no income, his wife was forced into bankruptcy and all the while not a single clue as to the whereabouts of the man who bottled water. Such a brilliant mind lost forever. I can’t help but hope that somewhere in the desert sands of Iraq, he’s still bottling water with a “Rube Goldberg” type machine that’s doing all the work. Just cranking it out, bottling water somewhere near an oasis in desert.

Red Bud Trees bloom overnight. Freesia bushes bloom overnight. Tis the springtime for sure. The audio of the springtime night is turned on maximum volume. The Peeps, the bells of springtime are ringing loud. This year, 2012 will be forever remembered as the year that summer started early. Before winter ended, skipped spring all together and went right into summer. I love summer.

Are you a buyer of gadgets? Kitchen gadgets, I mean. Oh sure, I’ve bought ‘em all, or damn near all. The Juicer machine, the bread machine, counter top grill, electric can opener, perfect deviled eggs, hot doggers, and the list goes on and on.

I’m kinda an old school gadget buyer, we’re talking the Chopamatic, here. First introduced before color TV was in vogue. Not only not in vogue, was not yet available. I first used the Chopamatic to chop Spam into sandwich spread. Didn’t know it at the time, but Little Oscar had the same thing in a plastic tube marketed as “Sandwich Spread”. Guess Little Oscar must’ve bought the very first Chopamatic.

It looked so good on TV. They didn’t show ya the cleaning out part. What the hell! Almost impossible to get clean. 98 % stopped using the juicer before 3 times use. The same holds true for the Bread Machine. It looked so good on TV. And so ya bought it. It smelled so good for the first time. But ya just never got into the habit of buying the stuff to make it work, and so ya continue to by the bread in those little plastic bags.

Countertop Grills. Shewwww. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. And the battery can opener, well it just didn’t work out. Now don’t even get me started about those perfect deviled eggs. But I did just a week or so ago buy that 10’’ green frying pan that nothing sticks to and allows you to blow stuff out of the pan with just a little puff of air. And that egg swirls around like magic. I’m sure looking forward to that. I’ll let ya know ‘bout green frying pan.

Stay Safe in Afghanistan.

From The EastWing, Flipping Bugs, Springtime Blooming, Bottled Water, Gadget TV & Green Frying Pans

I wish you well,

BobbyRay

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

Here at the EastWing, this Easter Day, everything that’s supposed to have blooms, have blooms. Never can I remember such a more beautiful springtime blooming season than this year. Red Bud Trees, Lilacs both purple and white, Crab Apple Trees, Peach, Pears, and the list goes on. Even inside the EastWing spring’s busting out all over. A Christmas Cactus with 26 buds, getting ready to pop, and that’s only one plant, I’ve got two. Such a beautiful Easter Day with all the world in bloom, our special gift from God.

Few things are more gratifying than asking for help and being almost overwhelmed with a response to your request. And so it was with our efforts to assist in the rebuilding of Salyersville KY after the March 2nd Tornado disaster.

When the word went out with the March 18th letter from the EastWing asking for help, things started to happen. Money came from a cousin in Texas. A dear cousin I’ve not seen in years, yet she knew the pain, she just knew the pain of Magoffin County KY. She has a cousin who teaches in the Magoffin County School System. She just knew the pain. She joined the efforts from the EastWing.

Money came from nephews on the east coast, from cousins in Indiana, from friends in California, Alabama, and as far away as Asia and Debi. The reach of the EastWing is wide when the need is great. For everyone who donated in any way to the cause, God remembers stuff like that.

WKVI Radio responded to my plea for help from the March 18th letter from the EastWing by inviting me to go on air and talk about it. Well you know for sure I’m not gona turn down a live radio microphone to promote the cause. So me and Tom Burg, we talked about the need to help those who have suffered so much in Salyersville KY.

We talked about how so many in Starke County have roots in Magoffin County. We talked about how, in the very early days of WKVI Radio Ted Hayes and one of the original investors of WKVI Radio, Almo Smith, who was from Salyersville KY, went to Salyersville. And how Almo, if alive today would be leading the cause to assist the people of Magoffin County. To assist the people to rebuild Salyersville KY. Me and Tom, we talked about how a majority of the listeners of WKVI may very well have roots in those mountains of southeastern KY and as such can connect with our efforts to assist in the rebuilding efforts. We talked about our March 24th efforts to assist in the disaster that destroyed Salyersville.

Talking on the radio is easy and almost as much fun as talking on the keyboard. It’s one of those things that I could get used to talking on the radio real quick. It just like telling stories, without the keyboard.

If there’s one thing ya can say about the people of the south, it’s in times of trouble, we are family. We are one. We take care of each other when we need to, and when we don’t, we don’t. The time has now come to be family, and so we are at this point in time, a single family. Children of the mountains, we are one.

The day came, March 24, 2012. And like we said we’d do, Adam and Pat Craig, and me, well, we held the benefit at Grand Central Station for the disaster relief in Magoffin County KY.

And don’t ya just know, it worked. The house was full. The music was great. The food was stone cold hillbilly. Now when Rosie Insco makes soup beans and cornbread and ya don’t get any, well you’ve missed a lot that day. By the end of the show, those soup beans and cornbread were just precious memories.

With pledges for contributions still to be mailed in by check, by the end of the evening we had a grand total of $ 2,374.00 cash in hand and what appeared to be upwards of 2,000 lbs of durable supplies of all types. Adam worked out the details of the delivery to Salyersville.

Now even before we knew how much money we’d taken in, Adam said if I’d let him take the money, he was pretty sure that he could get almost all of it down there to Salyersville. I told Adam that I’d take care of the money but would let him deliver the toilet paper. Adam, being the true friend of mine that I’ve known since we were little boys, simply gave me that “Adam Craig” smile and said “OK, I can do that”. I don’t’ care who ya are, ya gotta love Adam Craig. I’ve know Adam for almost forever, and the one thing I can say is he’s not changed one bit in all that time. And that’s just one of the reasons I love ‘em to this day. Adam Craig, he’s just a friend of mine.

Seeing so many friends take the time to come out and support the cause is heartwarming. To see a dear friend from Magoffin County walk thru the front door at Grand Central Station, priceless. Thank you Bob Allen, you made my day. And thank you Jesus for smiling upon our meager efforts here in northern Indiana to help those who, but for the grace of God, there goes I.

As spring continues to burst out all over, nowhere is it more apparent than in the front gardens of the EastWing. Everybody knows about the two EastWing Maples in the front gardens. The maple on the east side is in full leaves. While the maple on the west side has yet to produce leaves. Little buds that say “I’m gona have leaves, but not yet”. And it’s the sane process in autumn, the maple on the east side hangs onto its leaves to the very last second, while the west maple sheds leaves with the very first hint of fall.

I just had an unexpected visitor to the EastWing, a bumblebee. I caught the little feller in a Kleenex , took him outside and wished him well, as he flew from my open hand. That little bumblebee I just turned loose can thank my Grandpa, Harlan Fugate, there on Southfork, for teaching me about honey bees and bumblebees when I was a little boy.

Grandpa Harlan was a bee keeper up there on Southfork, In Breathitt County KY and he always told me to never be afraid of the honey bees or the bumblebees. And if they get trapped inside the house, just catch ‘em easy and turn ‘em loose outside, and they’ll be ok. And so I do to this very day, pick ‘em up and turn ‘em loose. But not the case with the wasp or the hornet. Whenever I see ‘em, we go to war, damn little Sons Of Bees.

Grandpa Harlan used to say “BobbyRay there was never a honeybee that wanted to sting you, ‘cause they only want to get away.” I’ve remembered that always. And as such, I have no fear of honeybees or bumblebees. On more than one occasion, I’ve held a honeybee or bumble in my hand. Grandpa Harlan was right, they didn’t want to sting me, they just wanted to get away. They always seemed to tell me the same message, if ya let me go, then I’ll fly away, and so I’ve set ‘em free. They flew away. I’m not sure if anyone ever looked back over their shoulder or not.

The down side of an early spring is the growing of the green, green grass of home. Yep, not yet the middle of April and the grass is already too high and needs mowing. Now with lawn mower gas at $4.00+ per gallon, trimming the lawn becomes an investment in how much I want to impress the neighbors. Now do you really think that’s a major concern of mine, that impressing the neighbors part? Yep, ya got that one right.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the EastWing, The Benefit, Me & Adam Back In The Day, Honey Bees & Bumblebees, Mowing Grass @ $4.00 A Gallon

I Wish You Well,

BobbyRay

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.   Spring has arrived at the EastWing, but winter never really came by this year, so I guess we just kinda dodged the winter bullet. Just another reason to thank God for taking care of ya when ya needed it most.   With the spiraling cost of travel, gas prices upwards toward $4.00 per gallon, an unusually mild winter brings much lower heating costs, so the gas price impact has not been as devastating as could have been here in the flat lands of northern Indiana. God, and small favors, gotta love it. But from here on into the future we’ll know the difference, and we’ll be mad, and we’ll yell foul.   Had a acquaintance pass away back in January of this year.  It hard to lose a friend, but it’s time I told ya about Tom Boldenweck. Tom was a friend of mine. An old warrior who served in WWII. One of the very last of that “Greatest Generation” Those old soldiers are dying off at a rate of some 3,000 per day. Soon they’ll all be gone, and with them the “Greatest Generation”.   My friend Tom was a warrior and a pacifist. Like most of those who’s ever looked into the very face of death, they hope never to see it again. And so they prey, no more wars, Lord, no more wars. Tom spent his life in the pursuit of peace and justice for all. I guess in some ways I’d consider Tom right up there with Superman in his pursuit of “ Truth, Justice, and The American Way”   Tom was a retired college professor, an artist who loved to create art in the style of graphite line drawings, had owned an art gallery in Chicago, lived one winter in the North Woods of Michigan where the potty was outside, and ya had to keep the seat inside in order to stay warm, had toured Europe by bicycle, was a published author, and a dear friend.   Tom asked me to read and comment on one of his books. I did. It was a “high brow” type book on the architectural aspects of the great Catholic Cathedrals of Europe. Tom had studied architecture as a young man and always wanted to see those old Catholic Cathedrals up close and personal, so he did, and wrote a book about each and every one he visited. I read Tom’s book and didn’t know what the hell he was even talking about.   It was a book that was destined to forever remain in the academic world. After telling Tom his book was to me, as exciting as reading Dick and Jane all over again, Tom smiled and said he’d been  happy if it sold 2,000 worldwide. Tom’s book sales exceeded this expectations.  But to me, an uneducated hillbilly, it was still liken to Dick and Jane all over again. But I’m not an architect.   I didn’t know Tom for most of his life. But I knew him for the end game. I knew ‘em when he was old enough to tell the stories, and tell ‘em good. And so he did, tell the stories. We traded stories, me and Tom, lots of times we traded stories. And sometimes we even drank the whisky.   When I first met Tom he thought the only alcohol fit for human consumption was vodka. I introduced Tom Boldenweck to Kentucky Bourbon. The last time Tom and I shared a drink, it was Makers Mark, the premier Bourbon produced in the world today, Tom’s words, not mine, but I did agree.   The last two years of Tom’s life were spent at the Indiana Veterans Home in Lafayette Indiana. I cannot say enough good words to describe the care and comfort this place provided to my dear friend Tom Boldenweck.   Tom and I had a deal, that upon his death I’d tell the world of how he  really felt about the Indiana Veterans Home. When it was time to do so, I kept my end of the deal.  I just hope my friend Tom would have approved of the words I chose to speak. I believe he would have approved.   After I spoke at Tom’s Memorial Service there at the Indiana Veterans Home, I was asked if I had a copy of what I’d said so it could be shared with the whole staff. I’d not write or rehearse a speech for Tom’s Memorial Service. I just  simply stood up and told the story as Tom and I had agreed that I would. And so as final tribute to my friend Tom, I’ll share with you what I’ve sent to the staff of the Indiana Veterans Home. For those of you who may have shared this before, please forgive the duplication here.   Below is what I wrote the employees and volunteer works at the Indiana Veterans Home as a final message from Tom Boldenweck:   Greeting to the Staff and Volunteers of the Indiana Veterans Home. A friend of mine has just recently spent the last two years of his life in your most gentle care. Tom Boldenweck died on January 10, 2012. A memorial service was held on Feb 17^th in the Chapel and I was in attendance. The crowd was not large, in fact, some may even consider it small. I did not consider the crowd small. Those in attendance were lives that had been touched by Tom Boldenweck. The size of the crowd was just right. The Chaplin, a kind and gentle man, even though I met him for the first time the day of Tom’s Memorial Service, I do know when you meet those doing God’s work the way it must be done, it shows.  A Chaplin for the old warriors, a kind and gentle man. I also met for the first time one of Tom’s caregivers. She cried and told me how much she had come to love Tom during the time he had been at the Veterans Home. We hugged, and we shared a tear, and a memory of an old man. Pat and Jerry, the volunteers who provide many hours of service to the Veterans Home, and the ones who Tom insisted I come down and meet some day, they too were at the Memorial Service  for Tom. Special friends of Tom. Tom and I talked of Pat and Jerry often. The very first time I visited Tom after he arrived here he told me how excited he was to be where he was at this stage of his life. The last two decades had not been kind to Tom Boldenweck, he so needed a safe harbor for the remainder of his life. Thank God the Indiana Veterans Home provided that safe harbor. It was on my third visit that Tom and I discussed what I would say when he passed. Tom had a message for the staff and the volunteers. A message so sincere and so touching, Tom didn’t feel he could adequately convey his true feelings of appreciation for what you people were doing for him and his wife, Ann. It was only after the Chaplin had read the prayers, we’d sang the song, and everyone present had an opportunity to say whatever they wanted to say about their memory of Tom, and then it was my turn to speak what I had come there to say. Tom didn’t believe that, in life, he could ever sufficiently convey this message of gratitude and thankfulness to  his caretakers, all . And so we agreed, Tom and me, we agreed that I’d carry his message. That I’d tell the world about Tom’s thoughts on such matters after he passed on.  One of the very last emails from Tom reminded me that “sooner more so than later, you’ve got things to say”. I told Tom I remembered, and when the time came, I’d go tell it on the mountain,  and I  hoped later than sooner. It was sooner. I spoke on behalf of Tom Boldenweck when I expressed his gratitude to the staff and the volunteers for the care, the love, the friendship, and the compassion which had been extended to  an old soldier and his wife. I spoke on behalf of Tom Boldenweck when I told of Tom’s joy at just being in all of your company. Thru me, Tom thanked each and every one of you for making the end years of his life so much more pleasant that the decade before. Thru me, Tom Boldenweck thanked you all for the care given to his wife Ann. Care so much needed and all the while Tom being unable to provide. On what was to be my final visit with Tom, he told me his only regret at the Indiana Veterans Home was that he had not come ten years sooner. That way he would just have had that much more time to spend with all of you. Tom loved his home there, and he charged me with making sure that you knew that he loved all of you. It’s my prayer, as I reflect on the memory of my dear friend Tom Boldenweck, that I have carried out his wishes to put into words his deepest and most sincere appreciation to each and every staff member as well as all the volunteer workers who are all the people that make the Indiana Veterans Home what it is today. As I reflect on my friend Tom, and on his journey into immortality, hopefully going in the right direction, in any event, surely  making lots of friends along the way. And all the while telling stories about his Indiana home, up there on the Banks of the Wabash, far away. Stay safe in Afghanistan.   From the EastWing, Springtime Here, Memories, A Friends Last Need is a Thing to Heed I wish you well, BobbyRay  Howard   And now for the latest project from the EastWing, just going together as of right this very minute.  I sure hope all of you will join in and support:   HELP THE TORNADO SURVIVORS OF SALYERSVILLE KENTUCKY On Friday March 2^nd a massive Tornado destroyed a major portion of Salyersville Kentucky, and surrounding areas.  Many, many families  have lost their homes and all their worldly possessions.  We must now act as soon as possible.   Here in Starke County, Salyersville KY is surely the most recognized name of any town in Kentucky. Most everyone in Starke County either have relatives from Salyersville or know someone who have relatives from Salyersville. The time has come to help those friends and family.   We urgently need:  Money, Clothes, Bottled Water, Personal hygiene items, Shoes, Coats, Pots and Pans, Pillows and Blankets, Canned Food and most everything else you can imagine.    (Just picture yourself losing everything you own on this Earth, everything. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, ya need a lot.)     You can bring your donations to Pioneer Florist in North Judson or Robert Howard Co. in North Judson. Any questions, just call Regina at 896-5421 or Bob at 896-2221 If you can help in the transportation end of this mission, we need to know that too.   Together we will make a difference in Salyersville, and they’ll know we are Christian by our deeds.   For your help, for your prayers, for your donations, on behalf of those in most dire need, I thank you all. BobbyRay

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Greeting to all and welcome to my new friends to the EastWing.

The winter time came and went, and no bad winter weather really ever came along. WOW! Never in my life have I seen a winter like this. It’s truly a winter for the ages.  I loved this winter in the flat lands of Indiana. Before we visit again it’ll be spring time in the valley according to the time line of the EastWing. March 1^st = SPRING!

And before ya know it, why  even the hummingbirds, yeah hummingbirds, they’ll  be back again in the valley, and the joys of summer will be bursting out all over. Why it’s not even spring and I’m talking ‘bout summer. Shewwww.  I love spring time, and I love summer. But this winter’s been kinda cool too.  It’s been mini winter.

I just go the most beautiful Tiffney Chicken ever. And what’s so special, it’s just like the lamp, this Tiffney Chicken too has a light. It’s a lamp, that Tiffney Chicken. A dear friend of mine walked into my office the other day and brought me the Tiffney Chicken along with a wall plaque for the She which said “ He rules the roost, but I rule the rooster”. I hate when that happens. But ya gotta love the She, ‘cause maybe the She does rule the rooster. Oh well, what the She does, the She does.

“Bob, what’s my fair share to pay to the federal government in taxes?” I was asked that question last week by a person whom I’ve been preparing 1040 tax returns for the last two decade.  Now this person has never paid a single penny in income tax in 20 years, and has always received a large refund from the Federal Government upon my filing the tax returns on his behalf.

When I pointed out that he had not ever paid income tax, he was astounded. The person truly had no clue that he had never paid income tax. His thoughts were, they hold out taxes every paycheck, so I’m paying taxes. The fact that his annual refund was well in excess of his total payments from this paycheck never made a connection. In his mind, he paid Federal Income Tax every week. He did not.

For half the working people in our nation, “fair share” means paying almost no income taxes at all. What’s never once been said in a public statement by the President of the United States is the true fact that the top 10 percent income earners in this county pay about 70%  percent of federal income taxes collected by the IRS. While the bottom 50 percent of tax filers, well, those folks, they pay almost no federal income tax at all. They pay a little less that 3 percent of federal income taxes collected by the IRS.

The Presidents phrase that everyone should “pay your fair share of taxes” has become something of a political buzz word. He’s used the expression in dozens of speeches, beginning back in his State of Union address in January. Like many “buzz lines” of this nature, it does not in any way expose the facts of where the actual taxes are collected, and more importantly who really pays the taxes.

Now for many of the people who pay no taxes, the government also allows “refundable” tax credits, which means even if ya owe no taxes ya get the money back the same as if you paid it in to begin with. Now how in the hell did that system get into our tax collection process?

I bet some of you are not going to believe this, but it’s true and easily verified that  almost a hundred billion dollars in checks  are sent out by the IRS to folks who have no tax liability at all. So now that makes the IRS a spending agency of the Federal Government, more so than a tax collection agency.

Another way to look at this matter is half of the people who don’t pay anything in federal income taxes — about half of them pay less than zero. Think about that statement, paying less than zero. Only in America, ya can pay less than zero. And I always thought zero was nothing. Not so in the United States “fair share” tax system. Pay zero tax, and you get paid for doing so.

The system is tilted even more toward those in the middle class and below because they also get services from the federal government. As a result the per capita value of government spending exceeds what those individuals pay in  federal taxes, by a large margin. Paying less than zero. Wow!

“Right now about 70 percent of Americans take more out of the tax system than they put in. That’s something that should really scare a lot of people. Sad to say I don’t think it does. I don’t think many even have a clue that it’s going on, or it’s long term potential of financial disaster

The policies that left so many people paying no income taxes have been supported by presidents of both parties for a long time, and despite what Americans tell pollsters they believe is fair, that’s not how it still works.

The Presidents insistence that “we all pay our fair share” does absolutely nothing to address this matter other than try to the rest of us to gang up on the 10% in our society who are already paying 70% of the income tax collected.

Just today Sophia The Calico Conservative Cat  asked me is this class warfare or stupidity on the part of those proposing “we all pay our fair share”?  What’s your fair share? Do ya pay any income tax at all?  If not, have ya paid your fair share? Do you want to?  Do ya support the President’s position that we all need to pay our fair share? Or would ya rather have a refund more than the amount ya paid in to begin with? I don’t even know why the cat asked stuff like this. Damn Republican Cat.

It’s interesting to note that about 66% of Americans  still think that everybody should pay something. That has been demonstrated by survey time and time again. So I guess it does mean that most of the people still remember that our government isn’t free. On the other hand, it’s kinda sad to think we may still have some 33% among us who feel that society owes ‘em a living. Should that % go above 50%, God Save The Queen.

How’s these gas prices working out for ya? Kinda like that “Hope and Change” from a few years back, remember that? Gas was $1.85 in 2008. Now that “Hope and Change of 2008” it’s now hope the gas price doesn’t change again.

It was just last Thursday the President proposed that we increase tax on the “big oil” companies.  One of the things that accounts like me seem to understand more so than people not working with numbers every day is that it makes so much sense  if you increase the cost of doing business on a company, such as impose additional taxes, the price of the product will be reduced to the end consumer.

I’m sure that’s what the President is thinking when he’s talking about taxing the “Big Oil” companies. Why he’s thinking they’ll then lower the price of their gas, because that got to pay higher taxes, and he’s just looking out for us “little guys” and our concern about higher gas prices. That must have been the “hope and change” thing all along. Shewwwwww, and I never saw it coming.  Damn!  I hate when that happens.

From the EastWing, Mini Winter, Tiffany Chicken, Fair Share, Who Really Pays, Cat Questions, Hope And Change And Gasoline.

I wish you well,

BobbyRay

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