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Those we need to worry about. However, believe me, this has the makings of a disaster for a large segment of the flying public. If there is any good news out there, it is that the vaccines are starting to roll out. So, when it comes back to me in a couple of weeks the project becomes one of fabricating and installing systems brakes, electrical, fuel, etc. Circling back to the political stuff: The world has not, nor will it, come to an end.

Although there are going to be some dire changes that make many of us unhappy, we will survive I think. Just know that the American spirit that has taken us through pandemics, wars and political upheavals in the past is still healthy enough to see us through again. So, hang in there! What the hell is going on?! What follows are thoughts from the fog of war ingulfing us.

This is a helluva way to start to start a new year! First, the topic of the month: the DC invasion. Regardless of how you spin it, Trump was wrong to fire up the crowd. However, from a transcript of the speech it would appear that what transpired went well past what he expected to happen. And investigations appear to be saying that the early reports about what happened may not be correct.

However, telling something like 45, people to march down to the Capital and make their displeasure known was almost guaranteed to backfire. Social media Has absolute control of what the country sees and thinks. They dwarf network or cable news in terms of information flow and their control of it. Today, social media is more than social. However, for the first time in our history, much of the population is doubting the ballot box. This is not healthy for us.

It is not even remotely the America we know and love. The same thing could be said about the whole logic of impeaching an executive who only has a little over a week in office left now just four days. Congressional vitriol of this level aimed at destroying a single individual has never been seen before.

This is also not healthy. However, the most threatening aspect of it is the precedent it sets. By taking such a dramatic action with neither an investigation nor giving the accused a chance to defend himself and zooming through the entire procedure in a single day has set the stage for the same thing to happen should the other party be in control. It has made implementing snap decisions on a national level into a norm. This is not only scary but drives the wedge between the two factions even deeper.

It is sad in the extreme. What the most recent facts to come out of the investigations into the capital invasion pointed out to me is several things.

Second, it points out how many crazies are taking advantage of the situation, not to enforce their beliefs or to make a point, but simply to destroy and generally engage in anachronistic, anti-government behavior.

As I sit here right now, four days from the inauguration, that statement about the past couple of weeks is what worries me the most. There is a crazy element out there that belongs to neither side and is raising hell just because they can. Or vice versa. Both sides have their share of crazies. Regardless of who does what, anything that goes wrong is going to widen a divide that already looks as if it is too wide to bridge.

They want to divide us and destroy America. If the anarchists win, both sides have lost. As a nation, we desperately need a boring week. How is your year going so far?

Is living up to your expectations? So far, 18 hours into the new year, my version of is actually pretty good. I wonder if I can keep it that way? Official local sunrise was My watch said it was when my left hand started forward and the bark of an unmuffled IO Lycoming proceeded to wake up the neighbors.

The tower had verified that the OAT was 38 degrees. My little red mind-blower blasted through pattern altitude long before we reached the end of the runway. It was glorious and at that moment I decided that was going to be whatever I would make it to be. It is so hard to remember that the past year actually saw some monumental things happen, many of which are fading in our memory.

Underlying the life threatening, soul-sucking aspects of Covid 19 was a pandemic, or maybe an epidemic, of politicization. Everything having to do with everything was infected with politics. Every aspect of what remained of our lives was viewed through a right or left prism, which fractured our views in such a way that no matter how something turned out, it left a bad taste in your mouth.

This begins with the media including the purveyors of social media, the mega companies and works up through our various levels of government. A lot of previously sacrosanct bodies, from the church to the Boy Scouts to the NRA, whatever, now exist under an umbrella of distrust. There is nothing at the national level in which we have total, or even partial, faith. Maybe Shakespeare had it wired, when he said 'Now is the winter of our discontent', the first line of Richard III, The second line of the play is 'To be made a glorious summer by the son of York', referring to a politician or whatever who was going to save the day.

Given our current situation, is there anyone on either side of the aisle who honestly believes someone is going to gallop in and right our ship? This is pretty damn hard to believe, given that for most of our lives whether the words were coming down from a pulpit, a DC chamber or our local Boy Scout troop leader, right or left, they all pointed in the same general direction: The goals were a happy, healthy population and a country with a solid belief in the worth of its people and the concrete guidance of our Constitution.

Now everyone in power at any level seems to have an agenda that is focused more on power for the party or the corporation than the good of the people. To a certain extent I feel as I imagine the Pilgrims felt when they stepped off the Mayflower and realized they truly were strangers in a strange land and they were on their own. They had to develop a beachhead and what happened from that point on was totally dependent on their own resourcefulness and determination.

We have little or no control over anything past that. More correctly, as I start typing this it is exactly Christmas morning. A mind is a terrible thing to waste. So, here I am. Christmas might as well have been cancelled. This is indicative of our general lack of cheer and energy because our neighborhood is afire with decorations and blow-up Santas, elves and things that look like a cross between the Michelin Man and cupie dolls.

For whatever reason, me sitting here in the dark typing conjures up the image of one of my better Christmas mornings when I was about eight years old.

I had sneaked out to the tree before anyone got up and retrieved one of my presents. It was a mechanized, die-cast, wonderfully detailed WW I artillery piece. About eight inches long, it had a working breech system that, when opened, accepted the cast lead artillery shells that were made in two pieces: slug and casing. The casing contained a spring and a hook-shaped part of that spring protruded through the slug and locked it in place.

After locking the breech closed, when I moved a lever on the breech, it unlocked the slug and fired it half way across the room. I had a flash light in bed with me and my covers over me like a tent while I played with my new toy.

I was in heaven! To a certain extent, that memory saddens me. The first step is always when your kids are no longer kids. Kids are the magic that makes the day. The second step is when the family splinters as Aluminum Boat Trailer Crossmember Now everyone begins their own lives and scatter.

Then, if a divorce is involved, that divides that family, further fracturing the life forces that make Christmas day a family affair. And then the pandemic came along. The Chinese Christmas Curse flattened the lead-up to the day and pretty much sucked the life out of it. However, I have a suggestion that, at least in our household, may help.

So, as of today, Christmas for the Clan Davisson, is being moved to July 4th, Come July, we might be the only house on the block with Christmas lights and more than our usual one American flag, but at least a little of the right kind of spirit will have returned to our household.

You can sign up by hanging your Christmas lights in July however, I hate those blow up things as a sign that the pandemic cocoon has opened and the long-overdue butterfly of the American spirit is once again aloft. Screw politics! Screw China! Hooray America! Hooray family! We owe it to ourselves. Usually money is the deciding factor. But, not always. When our first house mortgage was for 30 years, we totally ignored the time it would take to pay it off and focused on what it was going to cost a month.

We live most of our lives making those kinds of decisions: The cost per month far out-weighs any time concerns. Then, that thought pattern begins to change. I had a rather startling example of that recently. This is on top of bailing from Flight Journal last year. However, the writing income has expanded because editors are starved for material.

On the good side, progress on the Banger car has accelerated rapidly because not flying means I have weekends. However, I can figure the Banger stuff out. The tooth in question, which is technically known as Number Three third from the back, top right and is the first one in front of the molars. Prior to the latest dental drama, it had been capped at least twice.

This is where the time thing comes into play. Now, I have to. However, now it does because evaluating time is based on a logarithmic scale in which the value of time increases exponentially as we watch it disappear. The less we have, the more we value it. Or at least we should. I know entirely too many people my age who sleep late and spend their days in a lounge chair in front of the TV with a six pack at hand.

Retirement is slowly and insidiously killing them. The easy-chair gang looks old and acts old. Those who are engaged in life and are still living it seem to belong in an entirely different, younger age group. The big difference is motivation and interests. The concept of motivation and interests has always mystified me.

I have no idea why some people are fired up about being alive and others just sit there letting it pass them by as if it means nothing. In truth most have always been that way.

Beginning at birth, they have basically been in storage waiting for Ma Nature to haul them away. My friends, on the other hand, are having a helluva good time fighting time and making it pay for itself. It seems to be baked into their DNA. I wish there was a way that motivation could be processed into a pill and swallowed.

Today, Dec 6th, is the 79th anniversary of the day before the whole world changed. It was a sunny, normal weekend in Hawaii and the rest of the US was just living life. The next day, via radio, our parents and grandparents learned that the world, as they knew it, was gone and a new one was in the process of taking its place, even as they listened.

Especially something approaching 80 years old. My generation, that which is characterized as Bomb Babies, born right after WW II, is the last generation that might have had parents who had personal remembrances of a time, we can only imagine. Dad jumped the gun. That said, however, the times during which I heard an adult talk about their experiences in combat were few and far between. Just like today, we seldom hear a Vietnam combat vet talk about their experiences.

The combat-experience is something that is usually shared only with those who had been there and can understand. When I was 16 years old, 80 years earlier would have been and the Indian Wars were peaking and, sadly, would draw to a close over the next decade. The West was well into the process of being settled. As a teenager, even though I was heavy into hotrods, guns and guitars, I had a lot of interest in that period.

That having been said, I do have to say that my old hometown, Seward, Nebraska seems to have a more obvious pride in its past than many towns of its size. Plus, they have a county museum and the National Guard Armory features a small museum and a Sherman and a Patton tank out front. Part of this historical pride may be because for a town of its size 7, now, , when I graduated , it is far more financially fortunate than most of its peer group.

Going back to shortly after WW I, it has had a strong industrial manufacturing base that seems to keep getting stronger. So, it has the tax revenues and can afford the pride that shows in almost every square block of the town. Plus, the people, in general, seem to value their history more than many do. To my generation, Dec 7th still means something because it was a life altering event in the lives of our folks.

Every person of the post-war generation who is reading this remembers hearing their parents telling them how it felt to be sitting around the radio listening to news reports of the attack and then FDR declaring war for all to hear.

Their tales were an integral part of our upbringing. To this day, I can picture that thumb-sized, jagged piece of steel laying in the palm of his hand. Threads of his uniform were still jammed in the crevices. He also had a loaded feeder strip of 7. Pearl Harbor and WW II was still a living memory for my generation, but those memories lose their meaning as additional generations are added to the que.

I know that next year, on the 80th Anniversary, there will be lots of flag waving, parades and speeches. Old movies will be replayed. There will even be a few stooped, old warriors who try to remind us of the reality of the day. Oh well: They may not remember or appreciate. But, you and I will. He was late for his own birth, so he was induced.

Would I be doing the world a disserve by being so un-American as to not mention Trump, Biden or Covid in this blog? However, as smart as they may be, they are actually pretty marginal telephones. In fact, in some ways they are flat-out lousy.

That phone was an 8 and was a really good phone but had some sort of problem, so I went up to an Xs. We get the 8 fixed and give it to her. So, I dug through my desk drawers and excavated the 8, however, in the process, my old Motorola Razr flip phone surfaced along with my first iPhone, which was a 6.

It had been a while since I had seen either and was immediately struck by the difference in size. By comparison to my Xs, which is the smaller of the iPhone line, they were tiny. Then I picked up the Razr and realized what a perfect telephone it was. It had all the features you want on a phone. To answer it, you just flip it open. To hang up, you just close it. At no time did I need to look at the phone, which was so convenient.

Especially while driving. Of course, texting was in its infancy, so texting was a real exercise in dexterity and patience. To make a call on my fantastically-capable, hot dog Apple Xs, first I have to wake it up, so I tap the screen.

Then I have to swipe up to get to the App screen. Then I have to tap the Phone app. Then I have to go to Favorites. Then scroll down and tap on the requested number Home is the first one, The Redhead, the second. This is a damn dangerous thing to be doing while driving and it is far too long and drawn out to use even sitting in the office.

However, how big is big enough? An illustrative story: A few years back I began having to work really hard to get into my airplane and I came to accept it as being an unavoidable part of aging. Climbing into either cockpit requires swinging my right leg high to clear the cockpit side so I can step over and drop down into the seat. However, I was having problems with my right hip getting my leg high enough and was having to grab my pants leg and pull the leg up to get it to clear.

This went on for six months until I took a phone call while standing by the airplane and dropped the phone into my jacket pocket rather than back into my right hip pocket where it usually lives. When I got into the airplane, it was as if I was a teenager again. Zero problem getting my leg to swing over the cockpit side. In terms of functionality, I lost about fifteen years with that discovery and now my phone goes flying clipped to my left shoulder harness.

When we were playing with all of my old phones this week, I also realized how perfectly sized the 6 was. The camera, however, was okay, but just okay.

I have to admit that the camera on the Xs is fantastic and I use it constantly for photos that accompany my articles in magazines. Would I want to carry the old Razr and give up the whiz-bang stuff? No way! Right now I just wish the Smart Phone people would spend just a little more time improving the Phone part of Smart Phone and stop trying so hard to make them smarter.

The coming one is going to be even more interesting because a lot of us are going to be forced to make what are hard choices for some, easy choices for others, depending entirely on your definition and ways of handling risk.

What brought this up was a conversation I had yesterday with one of my stepsons. Then, I heard they were flying her mother in from Florida for the event. To say that The Redhead and I are being cautious is a gross understatement. Arizona, like so many other states is setting records for cases and our death rate is steadily climbing. A hard decision for all concern. Especially when instructing people who have less than zero ability to handle my little red flying machine Pitts Special and giving them control of it.

A part of that procedure includes me having to let them make mistakes, give them time to correct those mistakes, while, at the same time, giving me time to save our bacon. Everything in this airplane, especially in landing mode, happens at lightning speed.

To the uninitiated it is one blinding flash of activity followed by another blinding flash of activity. At the same time, it would be easy to look at my flying operations as some sort of hair-on-fire way of approaching aviation.

Some would also brand me as being a hair-on-fire pilot, when just the opposite is true. In my opinion, whenever possible, every decision should have an upside for the decision maker. Analyze the downside of decisions carefully.

And now for the flames I mentioned in the title and an unintended example of workshop risk: This is one of those moments, when I wish I had surveillance cameras in the shop to record the sequence of events. I spend a lot of time cutting steel with an angle-head grinder with a cut-off wheel. So, lots and lots of sparks were involved; a steady, very heavy, continual stream.

This is nothing new. This time I was dutifully standing to the side. Usually cloth, in that situation will send off signals as it starts to smolder before breaking into flames.

You can smell it. This time it gave zero warning. By the time I knew what was happening, I had serious flames racing up my shirt between my arm that was holding the grinder and my chest and was setting the sleeve on fire.

These were real flames as if I was wearing a frigging bonfire!! This is where I would like to see a video of what happened next. Looking back at it, I clearly remember a sequence of three thoughts that flashed through my mind, all three seemingly resolved at one time.

I have to get out of the shirt. So, I dropped the still running grinder, which shut off because it has a suicide switch on it and started ripping the shirt off. By that time I got there, I had it off and threw the flaming wad into the gravel and the event was over. Total elapsed time had to be under four seconds! A few minutes before writing the above I ordered a leather welding apron to be worn, when grinding, not welding.

So much so that worrying about it and hiding from it has become a new normal. And I believe him. Then what? Ditto for most of the other companies working on their own vaccine versions. Them, I almost trust. What the hell does the administration have to do with it? Trump or Biden, it makes no difference. Because of the surge, we cancelled attending a family Thanksgiving dinner.

Now, Turkey Day at the Davisson household will just be me, the AZ Redhead, two cats, a little red dog and a dead bird. As with all things in life, it starts with our immediate family and works its way out. As a year, is one for each of our personal record books.

Or what happened while hunkering down under the Covid umbrella. All the running gear is done and in, power train is pretty much finalized and mounted. It will, however, be one of the first cars of its generation to actually have turn signals and lights. They are very common. CKD, Chronic Kidney Disease, is a very gradual decrease in the filtering action of your kidneys that often comes with age. It has never been bad but anything less than normal is a factor with the FAA.

According to www. It affects one out of seven adults! It can be slowed, but not eliminated. It is slowed entirely by diet. What it has done is make me be more critical of what I eat. I say again, there are no symptoms, so make sure you get tested for your GFR filtration ratio.

This is reversible at the levels I have it via diet. So, since my pandemic high several months ago, I have dropped 32 pounds!!!! Losing the weight was easy because, between the two diets, almost everything on the planet is eliminated. This is true pretty much right down the line. So, I eat a lot of apples, egg whites, small amount of chicken and turkey.

It was much less complicated. So, what did I do during the shutdowns besides writing my brains out? I did a lot of grinding, welding and apple slicing.

The conspiracies and law-suits are assaulting us in banzai waves, and, more than anything else, my distrust and sadness are being overwhelmed by election fatigue. When is enough actually enough? At the same time, I have to emphasis that life is going on.

And will continue to go on regardless of the results. Good thing my pessimism has me protected! This is setting the stage for some unprecedented and highly interesting periods in our history. First up is the roughly three last months that Trump will still be in office. God knows what that is going to look like. My hope is that Trump shows more grace than anger over this.

At the same time, there have to be some rigorous investigations mounted aimed at purifying the election process so it is uniform across the country and more difficult to infiltrate. A couple of days ago we were already hearing rumblings about Trump for That would make Thumper 78, which is what Biden is now.

This makes it all the more important that the process by which he leaves office paints him in a pleasant way. This is especially important since he is now the supreme leader of his party, whether he wants to be or not. The shoe has finally dropped. Only the philosophies of those involved. First of all, the chances of us actually knowing who won this thing on Wednesday morning are next to zero.

Less than zero! The delayed input of mailed in ballots is going to drag this thing out for weeks or months. Think on that for a while!! Was that a political comment? This is so obvious that lots of cities, including DC, are already boarding up stores and have riot plans in place just in case. If Biden wins, the real winners will be the liquor industry.

Repubs will bitch and moan and lots of suds and hard stuff will be sucked down. I guarantee there will be no windows broken. Oh, wait, on that last sentence about no windows being broken: I may be wrong. There are atypical parts of the population which are disavowed by both sides that look for any reason whatsoever to hit the streets and raise hell. So, in celebration of their win, they may set some fires and break some windows.

It is so tight in so many states and the winning margin in those states was almost microscopic in , I feel as if the entire country is up for grabs. All we can do is hide and watch.

This morning Nat Geo had an article on their newsfeed that I found super interesting in the way that it could affect us as a species and as a nation: They talked about Moai , a Japanese version of Birds of a Feather and a concept of living that too many are without.

The article basically covers research that has been done into why the population of a few areas scattered around the world experience longer than normal longevity and health. One of those is the island of Okinawa, the scene of some of the most brutal fighting in WW II, so it has seen a lot more than the average amount of stress. Still, their population has a far higher number of folks who live healthy, happy lives into their 90s and s than most countries.

No big news there. However, they found that much of the population has divided itself into associations, almost clubs, in which friends with common interests band together which unintentionally yields communal emotional support in their later years. They call this concept Moai. This makes a lot of sense. First, let me toss a caveat out there: My personal exposure to the normal world is very limited.

If the pandemic has done nothing else, it has isolated people with themselves and brought just how capable each individual is at entertaining themselves into focus. Or better yet, how good they are at making spare time pay for itself. For most, their primary companion is the person they see in the mirror in the morning and those they are isolated with, usually family.

About that circle of friends. I had a couple of years living in a two-bedroom apartment by myself after moving out here and I wound up putting a heavy work bench in one bedroom and crafting the best Mannlicher stocked claro walnut Mauser. Just handsaws, chisels, rasps and sand paper.

Lots of sand paper! I had the passion and made it work for me. It really kept my spirits up. Now that I have a decent workshop and no neighbors, I hardly noticed the lock-down.

To sum up my theory which ties into the article: People who are passionate about a special interest and habitually associate with others with the same interest live longer.

Or, at the very least, live happier during the time they live. Those without an interest, run the risk of filling their time with mind numbing TV, alcohol or comfort food, which recent statics seem to bear out.

It is really well done! I just looked at the date above and realized that I actually started writing this exactly two month ago. Although I do seem to be getting better. What about you? The world is definitely a full bubble off of plumb. We are in the eye of a perfect storm in terms of stuff going wrong. The population is suffering. Some more than others. However, as much as I bitch, I know for a fact that I am one of the fortunate few.

Better yet, I have tons of magazine stuff to work to do. Just a little bit scattered in my thinking is all. They were fine for months. As soon as Covid wiggled around and raised its ugly head again, like the reptile that it is, people again decided to make pooping into a national crisis.

Relax folks! Metric No. Even the oddball calibers I work with like. This is strictly caused by the same thought pattern that makes toilet paper hard to find: hoarding!

Listen, folks, we can only poop just so many times. Do we actually need rolls of toilet paper? And none of us needs 2, rounds of 9mm or ,. Yes, if you want to, go through concealed carry training and carry when in crowds or other possible terrorist targets.

The average firearms encounter is generally over in three to five rounds. So, get a Glock 19, which has 15 rounds. Just point it and pull. A box of 9mm is 50 rounds. So, you buy two boxes and shoot up one learning the weapon. Calm down! Get a Mossberg 12 gauge and load it with no. Not 00 buckshot. Get a speed loader for it if you want more rounds, which you are VERY unlikely to need.

So, calm down folks. So, stay out of those neighborhoods. If you live in one, pick up some more fire extinguishers and an extra box of 12 gauge. At least we made it seem that way. What kicked this thought pattern off was www. This is a daily auction site that I visit first thing every morning. This morning a museum was selling a Dawes, kit-built, two-point hydroplane with a Mercury short shaft motor.

The instant the photo popped up on the screen, an endless series of memories stampeded through my brain. In each, one of those little beasts played an active role in the lives of a bunch of s Nebraskan teenagers. The years bracketed and the memories blur together as a warm sequence of muddy water escapes and a creaking old shack and dock.

It was a marvelous time during which fate took a holiday and spared us all what should have been a litany of serious injuries. Not a lake. A pond. A lake is an actual measurable body of water.

Probably much less. It was basically a wet spot in the middle of corn fields. And one end was barely wide enough turn a boat with a skier while the other was far too narrow. However, in that part of the country, if its wet, you strap on skis and go for it.

Before we started using it, someone got creative with a bulldozer. A skier who swung even slightly wide wound up impaled in the bank at the edge of a corn field. Picture this: You take a bunch of aluminum irrigation tubing about 12 feet long ranging from about six inches in diameter down to maybe three inches. You lay that tubing side-by-side, the bigger tubes in the middle. These are all artfully welded together.

At the back, the tubing goes straight back and is capped. There is no transom except for a little area in the middle where a foot-square panel sticks up and an outboard motor is mounted. Remember this point. It was one of the dumbest, most unpredictable water craft ever created so it was ready-made for us. When it got up to speed, which was almost immediately, nothing was touching the water but the center tube.

When you turned, even slightly, it instantly rolled on its side and planed on the outermost tubes. One of our favorites did this in the Thompson too was to get going as fast as we could and jump over the side to land flat on our backs with our feet up trying to skip like a flat rock. Mostly what we got were mud enemas. But we were having fun! It was way in the hell too fast for such a small stretch of water and, looking back at it, it was actually damn dangerous.

But not to us. Same with everyone else. And we seldom did but not for a lack in trying. Hot sun, lots of laughing, boys, girls, the occasional. No beer. No messing around. Nothing but high-jinks as only kids could have them back in the day. But things were about to change. We were the classes of and 61 and, without knowing it, we were standing in the doorway of a future we would have had trouble believing at the time.

At least some of them carrying nukes. Not one of us could have found Vietnam on a map. It was a momentary, peaceful hole in time. I now wish I had bid on that little hydroplane. It would have looked good floating in my pool. I could have lounged in it in the dark and made believe I was 16 again. Sometimes, I wish I drank so moments like that would actually flow over me. As we all are. A little mechanical death. Some overheated moments of mechanical pleasure.

And a little digital visual disappointment. Death of some Old Friends A Makita, he had given me something like 15 years of hard work and, in the process, became one of the most indispensable tools in my shop.

Maybe longer. Then, mid-cut, sparks and smoke started leaping out of the motor housing. He was all done! I took the motor apart as best I could but he was cooked. No way to resuscitate him. No smoke or sparks and I found an armature hospital that has him working perfectly.

Records Set Night before last, I used the last of an pound roll of. It also gobbled up about half a roll of. And the aforementioned lack of self-control. I started my diet and exercise routine about ten minutes later.

This is two pounds heavier than I was when I had my last big-gut epiphany and lost 35 pounds. Hard to do when sitting at a computer, 50 feet from the refrigerator while trapped indoors. What a concept! It means I can, and have, put eight hours a day on weekends into the shop banging on The Banger.

But, have recently. After three or four hours at degrees while welding or something, I walk out the back door of the shop, taking off my clothes as I go.

At the pile of towels, I hang a right and fall into the pool. This is going to be very educational for me. Oh, well� bd. Some good. Some not so good. Many were surprising.

I can add nothing new or enlightening to what the Media has said. By far the most important effect on me was one of overwhelming thankfulness for the luck of being born in America.

Especially the US and I started thinking about our transgressions and areas of conflicts. And so forth and so on. Every imperfection is grounds for erasing an individual from our history. I think this is a mistake. They are icons because they were perfect for the time. Judging them by today's standards is Monday morning quarter backing on a grand scale.

Given our record in some areas, we seem to have succeeded in spite of ourselves. We should remember those episodes just so we know how we got to where we are now and then vow not to repeat those mistakes. Learn from it. Here are a few random historical factoids and observations that popped up while I was researching our past.

According to the writings of Henry Louis Gates, the noted African American historian and author, in total approximately 12 million individuals were caught up in the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Many were sold into slavery by their own, or neighboring, tribes. Tragically, two million died in route!! Brazil was the biggest importer. The US Is, however, unique in that the North sacrificed approximately , of its young men , both sides to maintain the Union by stopping secession and put an end to slavery.

Right behind slavery as a national shame, or possibly at the same level, is our treatment of our indigenous people, both past and present. While the Exhibition was underway, the Battle of the Little Big Horn, where Custer got his egotistical ass handed to him by the Lakotas and Cheyenne, took place.

Barely two years before and miles to the west, the US Cavalry massacred several hundred Lakotas, men, women and children at Wounded Knee in South Dakota. A sad chapter! Just one of many. Some are pretty damn amazing. Prior to , the age for consensual sex varied from state to state but it always fell in the seven you read that right, seven to 12 years of age range.

African Americans got the vote in That gave them equal rights in owning property, employment, etc. Yale and Princeton let them enroll in A lot of these changes had women marching in the streets.

So, peaceable protests actually are an American tradition, as guaranteed in the Constitution. Now, one of the biggest questions in my mind is why any young, intelligent person would want to be a cop? And then there are those who have no definite meanings to their words.

These are not the actual protesters. This group is either angry over everything or are raising hell for the sheer fun of raising hell. The protesters have a focus, a subject and a cause and have every right to be out there. You can have a valid argument with them. The exception is Antifa and their ilk: They have a very different and clearly announced focus: the overthrow of the government.

Mixed in with this mess are the local police. Name a job where, besides having the possibility of being shot dead every single day, your shift may have local citizens throwing water on you, or lobbing bricks and frozen water bottles at your head.

Name another job where you have to stand there and have someone stand nose to nose with you, calling you every foul name in the book purposely trying to antagonize you into loosing your cool. Or drastically cut their funding. Much less mayors and city councils. These kinds of comments display a complete ignorance of the nature of the human species.

Since before civilization came out of the caves, there has always been a warped element that is a different kind of human. It is bred into them that preying on the rest of society is central to their own survival.

To that segment of society, criminality is a job. They have to be laughing their butts off hearing city governments talking about doing away with the police.

The anarchists, which are proliferating like crazy and are forming themselves in to an insurgent-type of force, are cheering the anti-police factions on. Politics are making their over-throw of the government easier. Yes, law enforcement reform is absolutely necessary.

There are always a few bad apples in every barrel and the regulations have to be there to both guide the force and define processes for drumming the bad apples out. So, Congress has to get their act together and come up with a bipartisan level of reform that makes sense. However, it appears that the concept of bipartisanship is seemingly impossible to apply these days. The concepts that are going to absolutely destroy this country are political correctness, politics in general, and a lack of understanding that lawlessness feeds on success.

They always do. Normally, I would say we have a solution: The ballot box. We might have a really rough patch ahead, folks, so, keep your mags loaded and protection close at hand. However, as the week worn on, there was a clarification of the definitions: We are clearly seeing the difference between protesting and rioting. I want to make this one as short and clear as I can. What is not written into the constitution is the wanton destruction of property, both personally and publicly owned.

What we have seen this week is a noble protest against the actions of an obviously out of control officer being high-jacked by a combination of anarchists ANTIFA , bad actors just capitalizing on a situation for personal gain and entertainment, with possible involvement by a criminal element. What we have to recognize is that every kind of population has a small number of individuals who basically bear more resemblance to animals than humans.

They are our criminal and socially unbalanced elements and they will take any opportunity to strike out against the rest of society, but only if they think they can do it with no consequences attached to their actions. Some bad actors may be acting out of anger at perceived inequities of the system, some of which can be understood. The other is neither. A quick photograph of what points out different views of this is, as I was typing this, Marlene called me into see something on TV where celebrities are raising funds for rioters who were arrested.

I know none of the details, but that makes little or no sense. This calls for some careful research. They stood around inside the store where they could clearly be seen through the windows carrying ARs and handguns. The looters skipped past them to the store next door. Remember what I said about their actions and consequences. They have no particular convictions so have no courage to back-up their actions.

A number of low-income areas have lost their primary retail and grocery stores and, considering the threats associated with the area, companies may be a long time returning, if at all. What I do see emerging out of this is a serious re-thinking of the use of police in these situations by some cities.

Many suffered far more than they would have, had they responded to the rioters in kind sooner. I also see a spike in security companies renting out quick-response combat teams to large targets such as gigantic malls. As soon as a target goes from being passive to having a risk attached to it, most of these groups will avoid it and go for easier pickings. This, however, is how I see it today. Who knows about tomorrow?

You don't have to watch many of the videos of people rushing out of broken windows and doors, their arms loaded with loot to know that George Floyd is no longer part of this episode in history. Then, when you see young people cruising the street and attacking single individuals, knocking them out and bloodying them up it's easy to see that this has all divolved to pure anarchy and hoodlumism.

It is attracting the most extreme and violent elements of our society because they feel they can do what they want because there is almost no chance they'll be caught.

The cities hae become their playground. This kind of violence knows no logic and the authorities are going to have to get seriously tough to keep it from spreading. PPS Did anyone notice the incredible launching of our first privately owned and operated space launch? It got lost in the shuffle. To me, the most incredible part is the technology of them landing the boosters vertically on barges.

That looked like CGI. The complexities to be overcome are mind numbing and SpaceX did it! Nice going Elon!! We have protests everywhere you look that are populated by basically normal people, not radicals, all of which are talking about freedom and financial survival. Is this what our colonial revolt looked like in ? Newly elected Sen. Raphael Warnock D-Ga. Your browser does not support the video tag. Please upgrade to lastest version. President Donald J.

Trump departure ceremony Watch TV Farewell address of President Donald J. Trump Watch TV Vice President Pence delivers remarks to U. Journalist Andy Ngo who covered Antifa reveals details of why he had to flee the U.

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