Monthly Archives: September 2015

Blood is “not” thicker than water!

A couple months ago my “old lady” and I were at the grocery store listening to the music before we went in and noticed a young lady run into the store and leave her kids in her car.
It wasn’t too hot out and she left the car running. We decided to sit there and watch the car till she came back. We didn’t put any thought into why she would do that till she came out with a prescription bag, rushing in the same manner as she went in.

It never crossed our mind to call the police or child services. To us that would have been judging her; the kids were safe and she didn’t have anyone with her to watch them. Life is busy sometimes and the least we could do was help out. She never knew!!!
This brings me to family. Hold on, ill catch you up in a second. I’ve heard of folks gettin in family business and bringing the “authorities” with them. I don’t know about you, but my “Old Lady” and I are the only authority in our family. Everyone else is a guest. How they act determines whether they’re welcome or not; the door is always open either way.

This had me thinking about the myth “blood is thicker than water!”. I understand that kids move on, brothers and sisters get married, and we leave our parents as we become adults. The one person we will always have is our spouse. This is the person we share the most intimate parts of our lives with. The person we trust and rely on more than anyone else in the end. Our spouse is not blood.

I ain’t gonna do or say anything sideways about family cause there is a special bond between family, including in-laws. In the end though, me and my “Old Lady” stand together with or against everyone.

There’s a saying, “Your either with me or against me.”. We don’t live like that, our circle is small and inviting, but you should know you place before you attempt to enter.

If your egocentric nature prevents you from internalizing this you should return to your younger years and revisit what you hopefully just missed. We ain’t ugly, but we’re together and our little family is open to blood and water, and it seems to us they both run hot and cold. We won’t sweat you or freeze you out, but we’ll keep our house warm.

We’re all just folks trying to live our dreams. Some it’s about people, some possessions, others money and power. They’re our dreams and should be respected for what they are.

This brings me back to the lady in the car who left her kids. She has dreams. I haven’t a clue as to her life, but assumed the best for her. I don’t even know who the prescription was for; was it pain pills, or was medicine for one of the children. Was she a single mom rushing after school or a addict trying to get next months peace. I could go on but I won’t. The only thing between us was air, no blood or water. I knew my place as a person in the human family and it wasn’t to breathe my illusions into another persons life.

I ain’t real big on the social media rant, so ill leave it at that. I love Ya’all and hope you’ve found a peace that keeps you out of other folks business. I hope you have a person in your life to live and love with, so you don’t have to run around meddling in other folks. I hope you’ve made sense of your past and are hopeful enough about the future you don’t mess around with other folks dreams. I sincerely hope you come to understand that just because you’re part of the human family, doesn’t mean you get involved with everyone’s affairs. Do unto others,etc…..!!!


Follow the Money!!!

Follow the purchases. This is an effective investigative technique to assist law enforcement folks in determining what suspected criminals or terrorists are up to. Review receipts or inventory belongings and a picture begins to develop of the suspects intent.

So what if we flipped this technique around. What if we started with the justice department and worked our way down to the local precinct and inventoried receipts and equipment. What law enforcement intention would be revealed.

There are two basic approaches to incarceration, rehabilitative or punitive. I’m not privy to police tactics, but there seems two basic facets to policing. One is to protect and the other is to serve.

Law enforcement funding, training, and tactics have to stay within the realm of policy. One look at an officer and you can see the culture within the department. In many counties police are getting a bad reputation due to sheriffs. Sheriffs are often dressed similar to soldiers, while often police maintain the traditional uniform. Most folks just lump them together as cops, they are not the same.

Bulletproof vests, paramilitary weapons, and vehicles with metal bars on the front bumper speak volumes about intent. Some units even wear helmets. This is the uniform of an occupation force. When you send this message “The Enemy” is naturally gonna have a different view of policing than the segment of population where officers are more traditionally dressed. The message that’s being sent perpetuates the violence.

We all should be worried about this. This has been written about for years in fiction, but for some folks the “Police State” is real. Down here in Georgia it ain’t uncommon to see seized vehicles detailed by inmates outside the Sheriffs Office for sale.

Hell, these same inmates detail Officers vehicles for $2:50 on their books, and the officers actually believe they’re doing something good by “helping out”!!! Paying a man $2:50 an hour for his work is a benefit of being an officer.

These local Sheriffs office have benefitted from the increase in crime. They have targeted offenses and benefitted from the seizures to the point that they have Humvee’s, helicopters, and uniforms that largely collect dust between demonstrations of force. Just look at the budgets and you’ll see that the police industry can’t afford low crime rates; it’s contradictory to they’re policies, budget, and intent.

Until the criminal justice system in this country is under some control we will continue to enjoy the drama of news cycles and outcries of injustice. It don’t take a genius to see this, but it will take leadership to change the culture of policing that has fell in with the criminals in a game of who is tougher. Until then they will both continue to benefit from the crime we live with so they can play an expensive version of “Cops and Robbers!!!

Prison for Profit

I ain’t saying there are innocent folks locked up so if you’re a conservative friend pull that wedgie out. For my liberal friends, I ain’t saying we should institute get out of jail free cards either. I am saying tha if you don’t know about the incarceration hustle then you’re not paying attention to your street or tax dollars.

For those not in Ga., ill let you know we lead the nation in folks under dept of corrections control. Since the U.S leads the world; that means I live in the most incarcerated state in the world. Some of the “Ole Boys” are proud of that.

The other headline is private prisons are a boon down here. These companies contract with the state to build prisons and then operate for profit. Inmates are the workers. So here’s the hustle, hypothetically!!!

Paw Paw Cracker is the last one in the family that knows “Jack” about farming. Nobodies left to tend the farm that covered half the county they live in. Grandson Posuer goes off to UGA and gets a law degree. He can’t help Paw Paw Cracker with the farming, but his buddy can help him sell part of that land for enough money the whole family goes from dirt poor to filthy rich.

The private prison moves in and builds a prison. Cousin Cooter opens up a gas station cause he knows the guards need cigarettes, gas, and beer. Auntie Opal opens up a food joint cause she noticed guards tend to be big folks and they’ll need lunch. Next thing you know everyone in the county gets in on the deal through services and contracts. BAM!!!! A whole county is living large building sub divisions like kids with their first Lego set.

So now everyone carries signs and buys stickers talking bout “Tough on Crime”. The whole economy of the county, and state, start to realize if they take a rehabilitative approach to corrections Uncle Billies twins ain’t gonna get four wheelers for their 12th birthday and Aunt Susie’s daughter “lil Bit” ain’t gonna be able to get that time share for spring break on her sixteenth birthday. Less prisoners, less money. Damn!!!

Cousin Norman manage the local Target (pronounced Tar-Chey) in these circles. He’s bitching cause he ain’t gettin those cheap prison goods no more and his wife started shoppin at Walmart again. The gas station Cousin Cooter opened up ain’t ordering no more gas and beer cause the guards got reduced and he got stuck with 35 cases of Bud Light and 2000 Gallons of unleaded last month. His son Beau had to pawn his Yeti Cooler to but tickets to the John Mayer concert. The whole damn county is going to hell in a handbag, find some criminals dammit, or I’m gonna have to rob the bank!!!

It’s not funny that folks have a business that profit hinges on folks being locked up. These judges, DA’s, and Sheriffs in counties don’t live in a vacuum. Their relatives own and operate business’s. Their children go to manicured school buildings. The private prison concept is a conflict of interest that’s ignored for profit. And these idiots don’t care if you see through it. They say, “ain’t no innocent folks in there!” True, but look a little closer at sentencing and the situations and you will rush to your stock brocker to buy stock in companies like CCA!!!

Natures Pursuit

Greasy rainbow streaked puddles evaporates into an acrid myst permeating my soul with the memory of summers in the street. Hot and hungry for something that never existed I stalk the corners and back alley’s. Buildings replace trees in a twisted jungle of brick and mortar that threatens to set my feet in dysfunction. So I follow the one rule of survival I know will keep me alive, keep movin!!

It’s a path I need; a winding dirt trail littered with last season’s decay. The smell of nature on my mind I can relax and wander through a living existence where the sound of trees gently blowing in the summer breeze replaces plastic wind carrying exhaust and chatter around every corner.

The sound of the fan in my window makes the sirens a staccato symphony behind horns blowing impatience and people yelling the alcohol out of their system. Back and forth I listen to the dreams of the fan and the nightmares of the streets.

I long for the cicadas singing the owl into a stupor. The sound of water rushing through my window setting my dreams adrift. The woods are like people, each individual swaying to the breeze in their own rhythm and beauty as one. The macro concept of together gives us the micro space to tower above the landscape and scream I Am over the creaking forests complaints.

I awaken to the sound of mist rising in plumes from manhole covers. Street lights fade into the sunset I never see past the shadows of the industrious pursuit of upward mobility. Distracted I lay in bed with the echo of my dreams calling me back to the myst that covers the early morning lake awaiting the suns rays. Prisms dissipate one tiny rainbow at a time silently raising the day. Tomorrow is here and I breathe again with the elements of time on my side.


The real ones never do!

Wearing asphalt on the souls of his shoes and the blue sky on his hat he travels on diesel stained water and plastic food. He don’t know friends, just people lined up along his life like dolls on a shelf; each one a special memory.

Grit is his cologne. Whiskey and woman are props in his story, never getting enough of change he sips whatever’s available and discards the bottles without a backwards glance. The back of his hand stained with lipstick and whiskey he always waves as he walks out of the street lights glow into the shadow of tomorrow.

He ain’t afraid to work but ain’t lookin for a career, just a job to pay for his freedom. Work is good for his soul, but a job is a cage with invisible bars. Old men retire so he’ll keep using highway ramps to get on and off his journey towards forever.

The bank account in his faded back pocket is his safest investment. Buildings and people become monsters when they incorporate; so he hides from their interest. Under the radar is a shady place without tolls where he can save his sense. Who saves for their death anyway.

His family don’t bleed anymore. There are no parents or siblings, just love for the characters that make up the landscape of his journey. Settling down erodes life like a tree that fell and decayed for the benefit of the forest, and he knows the forest is voracious, but trees are beautiful.

It’s a hard, walking through life as a person and not becoming part of the forest. Holding a dollar and not becoming number is impossible. His hands are calloused from fighting title fights seeking to make him a champion.

He was nobody and nowhere his whole life. Free to be human. He walks through life staring at the titles , cultures, and borders like a sleepwalker. He has no boundaries. Wherever his heart and mind can create a dream he travels freely along enjoying each step. This is how he lives forever. They call him a rebel cause they have to label everything in their world to be safe. He don’t label himself, but the real ones don’t have to.

VA Benefits on the Run!!

Saying the Veterans Administration doesn’t care about veterans is like saying teachers don’t care about students. This ploy is so obvious to anyone who has been around the military any length of time.

In the 80’s I recall the government deciding to replace cooks with contract services. It was supposed to save money. Really it was to create a jump for the economy by employing civilians. There was no way a civilian kitchen staff was making less than a couple soldiers flipping burgers and eggs. It was obvious to anyone involved; but when “Uncle Sam” went capitalist on ya, you just look around and accept the wink and nod!!!

These jerks want to talk trash about the VA and expect us to just go along with every flaw they could dig up as justification for them to further cut VA benefits through increased civilianization. Our (Veterans) healthcare will get cut further if we continue to wink and nod with them. Remember back a few years when the civilians took over our free retirement health plan that we pay for now.

We all know there are more than a few clerks with PTSD who served in Quatar in an air conditioned office receiving disability benefits because they lost power regularly. When I was in I remember the stories of cooks in R&R sites during Viet Nam getting Purple Hearts for burning their hand on the grill. There will always be “Shammers” and they’ll ride along on any ship that lands them a dollar.

I doubt there’s anyone in Congress with enough leadership skills to exercise some candor and put these folks in their place. We know those all powerful officers up there are going to go with the flow; going against the grain as an officer is a quick ticket to faded jeans and real job.

In the end the economy will get its way cause there are hundreds of agencies out there with plans to move in and control our benefits as soon as they’ve the green light. Bad thing is, they’ll charge us for the transition and shame us if we complain.

Anyway, I never go to the VA really. I get 10% for hearing loss. Which really means I get 10% of my retirement untaxed. Most civilians don’t know that they take the percentage we get out of our retirement pay and give it back to us through VA untaxed.

Maybe ill just go get a license plate and check on a fishing license and just forget it even bothered me.