Monday, August 11, 2025

Ever Notice How "Accountability"...


...seems like revenge to the perps?

The <Russian Collusion Hoax> and its perpetrators have been exposed by the release of previously classified documents.

Now the Department Of Justice is working to hold them accountable for their criminal actions.

In a sane world this is known as "justice", but to the propaganda arm of the DNC (read: mainstream media) it's "The Trump Retribution Tour".

See how that works?

When Democrats break the law, invent crimes and throw everything including the kitchen sink at Trump, they're "saving democracy!"

When Republicans expose their criminal deeds and hold them accountable that's "revenge".

Call it whatever you like; they did the crime, they should do the time.

And it's not just about the attempted coup in 2017 and beyond; the Lawfare fanatics better lawyer up as well.

<Big Tish> is in the crosshairs...


...along with <Pencil Neck>...


and let's not forget everyone's favorite attack dog <Jack Smith>:


All of these people are guilty as sin.

They lied, they cheated, they used their power to unjustly target one man over and over and over again.

There's an old saying:

"If you take a shot at the King, you better not miss".


They missed.


Last man standing...


...and then there were none: 


So here we sit, tiger lilyless.

As if that's not bad enough, I found this while cleaning off one of my greens:


Second week of August and already the acorns are FALLing?

Rats.


But speaking of greens (see what I did there?  great segue...) it's time for everyone's favorite feature, the HGU:

Henny Youngman once joked, "The other day I broke 70...that's a lot of clubs."

Ok, that isn't hickory golf; I just threw it in here for fun.

He hit out of the bunker, then turned and did that, apparently unconcerned he was on national TV.

Why?

Because he watched his ball splash, taking his chances to advance in this year's FedEx playoffs with it down to Davey Jones' locker.

As one of the commentators remarked after he snapped his custom made $400 iron over his knee, "he was going to reshaft that club anyway".

Right.

Thankfully in my world a flubbed shot is not that costly - I remain employed and so far still receive a paycheck - though I have been tempted more than once to emulate his behavior.

Not so much this week, however.

Due to the severe drought we're experiencing I saved a few bucks on my round.  They're offering $10 off...

that tiny white circle in the sky is a full moon

...for obvious reasons.

The scorched earth look is in now apparently, and it does add about 10 yards per drive since the ground is so hard.

Started better than recent rounds, going bogey, par...

my birdie putt on 2 where I happily "settled" for par

...par, bogey on the first 4 holes.

Should have won the match on #5, 5 and 4, since I was on the fringe of the green in 3.

Credit my first double bogey to my ability to magically turn what should be a 2 putt into a 3 putt.

As Strother Martin opined in "Hard Times"...


..."Some are born to fail, others have it thrust upon them."

Managed to duplicate this depressing feat on #6, but righted the ship on 7:


Good drive, but then hit my brassie over the green and had to chip on for my 3rd shot.  A 2 putt for bogey, and that was the match, 3 and 2.

We don't talk about #8 in polite company, but did bogey #9 on the way out, which left me with a final tally of 2 pars, 4 bogeys and 3 double bogeys.

Not my best round, but better than I've done recently.

We soldier on.


Accept no substitutes!  Time for the gen-u-ine 23 Skidoo:

who needs "girls gone wild"...

...when we've got "Hibisci Gone Wild"?

ok, roll up your tongues and stop gawking, move along now...

vanilla / strawberry hydrangea starting to lean into their inner strawberries

there's one in every crowd who just can't follow instructions




Watched a special on the great Ben Hogan the other day.


He was born into poverty in 1913 in rural Texas.

When he was 9, his father committed suicide with a .38 revolver in his living room.

Ben had just walked into the room when his dad pulled the trigger.

It's impossible to overstate the devastating effect that tragedy had on the young Hogan.

One obvious and immediate impact on their family was financial, so he and his older brother Royal became "newsies"; young boys selling newspapers on street corners, in train stations, wherever they could.

Little Ben heard he could make more money by caddying, so at age 11 he walked the 14 mile round trip daily from his house to the course and back.

He was small and so not often picked; to overcome that he saved his last newspaper of the day and spread it under him as he slept in a sandtrap overnight.

His reasoned this way: if he was the first one at the course, they'd have pick him to carry clubs.

It worked, and thus began his lifelong dedication to endless toil and unflagging effort in his quest to achieve his goals, all of which coalesced around the game of golf.

Nothing ever came easy for Ben Hogan.

Too poor to play amateur golf - "You can't eat trophies," he commented years later - he turned pro at age 17 in 1930.

But professional golf in the 1930's was a hardscrabble, knockabout life.

Most didn't make it; those that managed to hang on eked out a living on meager winnings.

Hogan was no exception, and many times had to go back to menial jobs to make ends meet.

By the 1940's things were starting to look up, but then his career was interrupted by World War II.

When he was discharged from the Army Air Corps in 1945 he jumped right back into life on the road, chasing his golf dreams.

In 1946 he finally won his first major tournament, and went on to have great years in 1947 and 48.

Then in January of 1949 he and his wife Valerie were driving in a dense fog when suddenly right in front of them and in their lane was an oncoming Greyhound Bus.

It had pulled out to pass an 18 wheeler and struck them head on.

At the last second Ben flung himself in front of Valerie to try and protect her.

That selfless act did 2 thing: prevented Valerie from receiving severe injuries, and undoubtedly saved his own life.

The steering wheel was rammed into the back seat by the impact and the engine thrown into the front seat.

Ben took the brunt of the trauma, suffering many broken bones and life threatening injuries.

Doctors warned if he lived, he most likely would never walk again.

Hogan standing beside the remains of his wrecked car

Golf - obviously - was a thing of the past for him.

Except of course, it wasn't.

16 months later, in the "Miracle at Merion", Hogan won the 1950 U.S. Open.

Hogan's iconic 1 iron onto the 18th green that allowed him to par the hole and force a playoff, which he won the next day.

He went on to become one of the greatest golfers of all time, and years later he was asked about his difficult upbringing.

He responded by saying, "I feel bad for today's youth because they've had it too easy.

"I know tough things; I've had a 'tough day' all my life, and I know I can handle adversity.

"I could never have achieved everything I did if not for those tough days to begin with."


Food for thought:


Champions are rarely chosen from the ranks of the unscarred.

And some encouragement from God's Word:

"There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

    - I Corinthians 10:13

later, mcm fans...



Monday, August 4, 2025

The Nonsense Continues...

...from the usual suspects at the History Channel.

Talk about irony - apparently they can't even define what history is, so here's a little help:


In other words, it's what happened.

Period.

It's immutable and not open to revision, ideological or otherwise.

Granted, 'twould be nice to go back and change it from time to time, but apart from the realm of sci-fi, no can do.

Unless - evidently - you work for the History Channel, in which case the past can morph into whatever your current politically correct sickness demands:

"Ah yes, I well remember watching those 1976 Olympics as a young man living in Maine.

"Boxers Sugar Ray Leonard, Michael and Leon Spinks, discus champion Mac Wilkins and of course, world class decathlete Caitlyn Jenner.

"What a glorious sight she was in her skirt and high heels, clutching her pearls while summoning her inner Bruce to sprint, jump, hurdle, throw, run and pole vault her way to a new world record and Olympic gold in the men's decathlon.

"Now Where O Where did she leave that pesky Y chromosome?

"No matter, I'm sure it will turn up; it's always in the last place you look (by definition, actually).

"Sadly, we must take our leave of fantasyland now and return to harsh reality.

"As we go, remember Bugs Bunny's eternal question:"

a little war time humor

Definitely not.


In the Melancholia department:

We are A) in the last third of meteorological summer...


...and B) will lose about 75 minutes of daylight this month.



"A falling leaf is summer waving farewell."

      - Anonymous (if no one claims authorship, I'm going to)

In fact, this past weekend was the last sunset after 9pm for 2025 in our neck of the woods.

By September 10th, sunset will be 8pm.

Now don't think of this as me raining on your parade...


...but rather encouraging you to get moving and enjoy outdoor life as much as you possibly can BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Do NOT waste your time staring at screens, whether they reside in your palm...


...on your desktop...


...or in your living room:


Life is NOT a spectator sport.

Get in the game!


And taking my own advice, I ventured forth to the Vale of Everlasting Sorrows where I practice the black art of hickory golfery.


I'm liking my mixed pre-1900/1920's hickory playset (woods are pre-1900, irons are 1920's):

l to r: long spoon, brassie, mashie, niblick, putter

And because they are a mix, I sometimes use my golf bag as they did in the 1920's, and sometimes carry them sans bag, using the walking stick / club stand, ala the 1890's:


But as much as I enjoy swinging my hickories, my results have been less than exciting lately.

not fog, but genuine imported Canadian wildfire smoke

Thought I was breaking out of my slump today; started with a bogey and par on 1 and 2.

my birdie put on #2 when I "settled" (read: jumped for joy) for par

But then my drive on #3 just caught the upper lip of the sand trap guarding the green and spent some time playing around in the sand before admitting abject defeat and moving on.

4 and 5 were studies in incompetence on the short game, but temporarily righted the ship on 6:

tap in for par brought me back to all square

Had a good drive on 7 followed by a decent brassie to the fringe of the green, chipped to within a foot of the hole, tapped in for par and headed to 8, 1 up with 2 to go.

8 was playing as a 400 yard par 5 today (they move the tees now and then).

Lousy fade from the tee put me among the trees where I used my long spoon as a putter to get the ball back into the fairway.  Foozled my brassie for a 40 yard wasted stroke.

Now hitting 4 with my brassie, this time nice and straight and right into the trees on the left side of the fairway, 150 yards away.  I guess aiming before hitting actually does matter.

Certain the hole was now a well-deserved loss, I dragged my sorry carcass to where my ball had dropped out of the trees into the first cut of the rough.

Hitting 5 which meant if I got up and down from 50 yards away for bogey I'd win the hole and the match.

A competent (please note the missing prefix of "in") stroke with my mashie left me with this putt for bogey:


I hadn't made a putt longer than 2 feet all day, but miracles do still happen apparently, because I did in fact sink it.

This accomplished 2 things:

1) nicely illustrated Harry Vardon's principle that states "Never Despair",  -and-

2) gave me my uninspiring win.

Good thing, too, since 9 was another exercise in "creative ways to misuse golf clubs".

Hoping for better next week.


For the love of chicken gravy, let's just 23 Skidoo and be done with it!

nice to see a <former patient> doing well

conceited cat...nobody ever commissioned a portrait of me

gotta love black eyed susans and cone flowers

vanilla / strawberry hydrangeas in the vanilla stage

a dinner plate hibiscus caged by a japanese maple...

...and the more humane "free range" variety



Assuming you're vertical, able to take nourishment and aware of your surroundings, you know the perpetrators of the <Russian Collusion Hoax> are due for their comeuppance.

It will be a true delight if the criminals involved (Hillary, Obama, Brennan, Clapper and Comey to name a few of the worst offenders) really are held accountable for their crimes against this country, but sad experience has taught us not to hold our collective breath.

When Trump is the target, the media gleefully intones "No one is above the law!"

When the left's conspiracy to frame Trump in an effort to deflect attention from Hillary's compromised server and 30,000 "missing emails" is exposed by heretofore classified intelligence documents,  the complicit media are alternately loudly dismissive and strangely silent.

Even so, we are confident in this eternal truth: whether justice happens now or later, God promises it will happen:


later, mcm fans...