Only in America, Attack The Messenger, A Different Point Of View, Spike & The Knife, An Old Man & A White Lab Coat, Bactine To The Rescue, The Man Cat & The Queen.

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

Everybody’s already heard  of all those “You might be a hillbilly if you’re….” jokes, so I’m not gona go there, but the other day a friend sent me an interesting take on the Dave Letterman Shows “Top 10 List” and thought I’d  share that list with ya.

10) Only in America ….would politicians talk about the greed of the rich at a $35,000.00 per plate campaign fund-raising event where the President of the United  States wife’s dress cost $4,000.00, the diamond earrings cost $1,900, the Hair do comes in at $500.00 and the shoes do the same at $800.00

9) Only in America …..could people claim that their government still discriminates against black Americans when they have a black President, a black Attorney General, and when roughly 18% of the federal workforce is black while only 12% of the nation’s population is black.

8) Only in America …..could we have had the two people most responsible for our tax code, Timothy Geithner (the head of the Treasury Department) and Charles Rangel (who once ran the Ways and Means Committee), BOTH turn out to be tax cheats who are in favor of higher taxes.

7) Only in America ….can we have terrorists kill people in the name of Allah and have the media primarily react by worrying  that Muslims might be harmed by the backlash from Americans.

6) Only in America …..would we make people who want to legally become American citizens wait for years in their home countries and pay tens of thousands of dollars for the privilege, while they discuss letting anyone who sneaks into the country illegally just ‘magically’ become American citizens.

5) Only in America …..could the people who believe in balancing the budget and sticking by the country’s Constitution be thought of as “extremists.”

4) Only in America …..could we need to present a driver’s license, or other photo ID, to cash a check or buy alcohol, but not to vote.

3) Only in America …..could we demand the government investigate whether oil companies are gouging the public because the price of gas went up when the return on equity invested in a major U.S. oil company ( Marathon Oil) is less than half that of a company making tennis shoes (Nike).

2) Only in America …..could the government collect more tax dollars from the people than any nation in recorded history of earth, still spend a Trillion dollars more than it has per year – for total spending of over   $7-Million PER MINUTE, and complain that it doesn’t have nearly enough money to spend.

1)     Only in America …..could the rich people – who pay 86% of all Federal Income Taxes, be accused of not paying their “fair share” by people who don’t pay any Federal Income Taxes at all. Only in America.

 

WOW! Now I don’t care who you are, that list of 10, those are things you can’t dispute. An interesting thing about facts, when one cannot attack the facts, for some, the only option left is to attack the messenger. How many times have you seen an attack aimed solely at the messenger and not at the facts? I too have seen such.

 

Whenever I write from a conservative point of view, almost every time when someone has an opposing point of view they wish to make, the attack is not on the message. It is on my audacity of criticize  the “progressive” point of view. My audacity to criticize the President of the United States. My audacity to criticize the Attorney General of the United States, the chief law enforcement officer of our nation. My audacity to challenge the integrity of the Internal Revenue Service. My audacity to speak out when I don’t know what I’m talking about. My arrogance to even question the decisions of U.S. State Department.

 

Just last week, I was asked if I was afraid to allow the NSA to read my e-mail. Told ‘em I was not, ‘cause their email address would also be attached. The message is seldom ever attacked, only the messenger. When I write from a liberal point of view, I’ve yet to receive a single attack on anything other than the message. Can’t help but wonder why that’s the way it always turns out. It just does.

 

Statements such as “Your words speak your true colors”. “I refuse to continue to read your rant and rave, take my name off your mailing list”. “Who died and left you boss?”  “Why don’t you get into the real world & know what’s going on?” “You think you’re so damn smart”. And there’s always my personal favorite “WHY DON’T YOU GO OFF AND ^%$# *&^% YOURSELF TO DEATH!” To that particular comment I could only say, “WOW! You have such a command of the English Language. You should really consider writing as a profession. Your choice of word selection is truly amazing, I’m impressed.  That’s a skill I can only dream of possessing”. What I really wanted to say was “you dumb ass”. I’ve often wondered did that person feel the sarcasm dripping from my response, or did they take my advice and pursue the writing career as I suggested.

 

When only the messenger can be attacked, the facts stand for themselves. Facts are facts. It’s hard to dispute facts. In fact, it’s impossible to dispute facts. Facts are facts. But kill the messenger when the facts don’t agree with your point of view. Seems it’s  “The Chicago Way”.

 

 A while back Spike the Man Cat developed a cyst on his back, an inch or so in front of his tail. It looked like something that needed attention and so I gave it the attention needed. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to “doctor” a cat or not. It matters not the size of the cat, when they’re in pain, they’re all wild cats with switchblade knives. Spike was no different. Maybe just bigger switchblade knives.

In order to handle a cat, you first must neutralize the knives. You have to wrap the cat in a towel, a thick towel, thicker than the cats knives, ‘cause those knives are coming  at ya, that’s for sure. If you’re not sure, use two towels. I’m telling ya, if you get scratched by the cat knives, it will get infected.  All cat scratches are guaranteed to get infected. When it comes to cat scratches, it’s not a threat, it’s a fact.  It’s gona get infected, that’s the real world of cat scratch.

Now I could go into all the detail as to why that’s a fact rather than a promise, but I won’t at this time. Other than to say it has to do with the cats extreme digestive system and the internal acids within that digestive system, and  pathogenic organisms ability to live in such severe circumstances.

A long time ago, in a land far away, I think it was in the third or fourth semester in a field of study called Bacteriology IV, that I came in contact with a professor, a crusty old bastard in a white lab coat, with his name embroidered across the upper left front pocket. At the time, I hated this old man with a passion…. He demanded my performance at the laboratory bench be, head and shoulders, above my peer group. Much like Grumpy Cat, I hated him. He challenged me in anything and everything I touched in his laboratory. It became a personal thing  for me to show the old bastard just how good I could be when it came to Bacteriology. And so it was that in my desire to prove him wrong, I gained such an extraordinary amount of knowledge from the old man in the white lab coat.

It was about a year or so after our first contact, after the graduation ceremony was all over, he came up to me and said “Bob I’ve got something for you”. He handed me a present, wrapped in plain brown paper, and said “Open it up”. I did. It was a white lab coat. And on that front upper left pocket, it was embroidered “MR. HOWARD”. It was at that moment when I truly realized just how much I’d learned from the old man in the white lab coat. We hugged. We cried.  It was several years later when I went to the funeral of the old man in the white lab coat,  that I met his wife for the first time. She said to me “he told me about you and your new lab coat. He was so proud of you for what he was able to teach you.” Me and the widow of the old man in the white lab coat, we hugged. We cried. To this day, I still have that white lab coat that says “Mr. Howard”,  up there on the front upper left pocket. The crusty old bastard taught me well. I love him to this day.

That old man forced me to do an in depth research into the digestive tract of feline creatures. And as such, I became a semi expert on how and why cats can digest things that go into their mouth  the way in which they do., and why things happen inside cats that don’t happen inside other creatures. And also why, when cats scratch ya, it does become infective every time. As a result of this extra study requirements of fourth semester Bacteriology, I did finally understand why cats are said to have nine lives. But that’s another story for another day.

Now  when a cat catches a bird, the cat eats every part of the bird. Every part of the bird, bones, feathers, toenails, and even the beak. Just think about what I’ve said here,,,, eating a beak is damn tuff. The way in which the cat disposes of its personal refuge also comes into play in the formula to guarantee that all cat scratches do cause infection. ‘Course the  good side of that matter is the cats always do cover up their stuff.

Once The Man Cat was secured within the thick towel, while holding him down with a knee, the end of the Man Cat needing attention was exposed. And oh Lord yes, did it ever need attention . Was the size of a very large marble, and full of yucky. It was a big bubble wanting to roll. A squeeze would have created way much too much pain for the Man Cat. So using an instrument  from one of my former occupations, I touched  the blade to the bubble.  The Yucky rolled. All the while Spike The Man Cat hardly even moved as the pain level was being relieved. Some additional gentle pressure assured all the yucky was expelled to the extent possible at that time. As I gently squeezed, I’ll swear, I heard the Man Cat purr. I know damn well I seen him smile.

“Bactine don’t burn like that smelly old dark stuff”. Or so said the TV back in the day when Bactine was king of the TV commercials. It was an antiseptic liquid sold over the counter to treat cuts and scrapes, Bactine was the cure-all for those cuts and scrapes of childhood before those same cuts and scrapes of childhood became what is today a  911 emergency call.

Before the surgery on Spike The Man Cat was started, I’d already thought out the end game. Knowing  full well that should I open the cat skin,  I’d better be prepared to make an effort to reduce the chances of additional infection, over and above what  was going to be exposed when the Yucky rolled. It was Bactine to the rescue.

Was in a spray can, that Bactine, up there in that cabinet that everybody has in their house. Some have it in the kitchen, some have it in the bathroom some have it somewhere else, but everyone has it somewhere. The one where you keep all that old medicine stuff  that should have been thrown away years ago. Where you keep that over the counter stuff you bought for your cold back in the 90’s. The stuff that didn’t work for ya.  Yeah, I got one of those cabinets too. So don’t feel bad, everybody has ‘em. It’s the medicine junk cabinet. The spray can of Bactine was in mine, way toward the back. Think I used that can last when Johnny was a little feller and skinned his knee.

Spike The Man Cat was glad I had the spray Bactine, ‘cause it didn’t burn like that smelly old dark stuff.

Now I must stop right here and tell everyone, before I get a thousand emails asking about the health of Spike The Man Cat.  Spike is well and fully recovered. The procedure preformed was the correct thing to do. Within two days from under the knife, Spike showed a marked improvement, and today he walks the EastWing good as new. Letting it be known to one and all, that “I’m a Man Cat and you’re not”. All that is except Sophia. Even a Man Cat, bows before the Queen. Damn Republican Cat.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From The EastWing, Only in America, Attack The Messenger, A Different Point Of View, Spike & The Knife, An Old Man & A White Lab Coat,  Bactine To The Rescue, The Man Cat & The  Queen.

I Wish You Well,

BobbyRay