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Goat in my hotel room . . .

Near the end of my three-year assignment to US Customs Headquarters in the nation’s capital, I traveled to Seattle, then to Blaine, Washington, then to San Francisco and on to Los Angeles on official business—my duties at that time were those of the National Program Manager for Custom’s detector dog program. In Seattle I met a fellow officer from Los Angeles, and together we observed and evaluated Customs’ operations in Seattle, at Customs’ land border port of entry at Blaine near the Canadian border,  Customs’  operations in San Francisco and finally Customs operations in Los Angeles, with concentration on the detector dog program in the various locations.

My purpose in this post is not to bore the viewer with details of Customs enforcement programs—my purpose is to relate two separate incidents, one that was hilarious and one that was somewhat embarrassing.

My fellow Customs officer told me that his baby in Los Angeles would meet us in San Francisco and travel with us back to Los Angeles. I assumed that his baby was his wife, and therein lies a tale. His baby, an amiable and quite presentable young woman—much younger than he—dined with us at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco that evening, checked into the hotel with him and traveled with us on the flight from to Los Angeles the following day. Dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf included fried octopus, my reluctant first—and definitely last—encounter with that creature as cuisine.

We had adjoining rooms at an upscale hotel near the airport. When I went to check out, my fellow officer was already checking out, so I fell into line behind him. While I waited I heard him tell the woman behind the desk that he was bothered by noises coming from the room adjoining his. He said there was a party in that room that included an animal, one that sounded suspiciously like a goat or a sheep, and that the sounds continued late into the night.

The clerk registered a mixture of surprise, skepticism, incredulity and something akin to horror, and said that she would tell the manager right away and an investigation would be made. I stepped forward and told the clerk that the room was mine, and that all the party goers were of sound mind and legal age—including the goat.

Okay, I admit it—that was funny, but the surprise that awaited me at his home the next night when I accepted his invitation to dinner was not funny. I arrived with a screw-top bottle of fine wine, rang the door bell and was invited into the house by a very lovely and very pregnant lady that introduced herself as the wife of my fellow officer. Nope, it was not the same baby that met us in San Francisco and traveled to Los Angeles with us—didn’t even come close. The best part of the evening was my feeling of satisfaction with my selection of wine for a dinner gift.

That was an embarrassing moment for me. I wisely held my counsel until the following day, at which time I ticked off the reasons why I should not have been misled. My scorn was wasted on him—he found the incident far funnier than the goat in my hotel room debacle.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

 
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Posted by on September 3, 2010 in Humor, marriage, Travel, Writing

 

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Listen up, Dumbo, if you want to win in November . . .

Listen up, Dumbo, if you want to win in November!

A special note to all Republicans seeking to retain or attain a seat in the U.S. Senate or the U.S. House of Representatives in the coming November elections:

When you start your campaigns, whether for election or reelection in November of 2010, begin by submitting a deposition duly sworn before a properly licensed notary, a deposition in which you swear that you will govern by the will of the people, that will as determined by current polls conducted by reputable pollsters, a deposition in which you swear that should you fail to acknowledge and conform to the people’s voices you will resign your seat immediately following your failure to conform to the will of the people, and finally in that deposition you will swear that you will forfeit the sum of $50,000, that sum having been deposited in escrow in a secure location, said sum to be immediately applied to the national debt. If you’re a bit short on the cash, the nation’s capital has lots of lenders.

Listen up, Dumbo! You certainly have the ears for listening—you need only use them to listen to the voice of the people instead of flapping those ears as Disney’s creation, the flying elephant Dumbo did, flying to the upper branches of a tall tree and just sitting there, doing nothing other than maintaining that smug complacency that has characterized the Republican party for the past ten years, beginning with the elections of 2008 but especially noticeable over the past 18 months.

Former president George W. Bush proudly and emphatically told the people that he did not govern by polls. That remark reminds me of an afternoon many years ago when I was being babysitter to my young granddaughter after kindergarten. In a grandfatherly attempt to engage her in conversation I asked her what she did in school that day. She was eating cereal, and she chewed thoughtfully for a long moment before answering and then said, I don’t have to tell you that.

As one might expect I saw red, and I replied forcefully, Okay, smart-ass, I didn’t want to know anyway. And also as one might expect I froze, terrified, fearing that should her mother—my daughter—learn what I had said I would never again be trusted to serve as her babysitter—actually that really would not have been such a bad thing, unless my response was judged predatory in nature.

The little girl took another spoonful of cereal, chewed thoughtfully again for another moment, and after what felt like an eternity to me she said, Then why did you ask me?

My point, Dumbo, is that if you aren’t going to act on the poll results, then why do you ask us the questions? What do you do with those results? Substitute them for Charmin?

I’ll bet you would be quite pleased had our current president governed on the poll results of health reform, financial reform and other items forced through both houses of Congress, items that the masses strongly opposed according to all the polls—none would have passed, not one, and the nation would be far better off than it is now.

Our current president promised change and he definitely gave us change. He has saddled the nation with a projected deficit of some 14 trillion dollars—that’s 14 followed by 12 zeros—projected to come about in the near future. He has definitely changed the character and the landscape of the United States and has jeopardized our nation’s future, but his promise of transparency in government has never materialized.

We are no longer looked up to by the nations of the world—they instead look down on us. We have bowed in obsequiousness to the leaders of several nations, including some that would destroy us. Our country is riddled with terrorists, both foreign and home-grown, and our national debt is in the stratosphere. We are descending into a second-rate nation and a second-rate power, and nothing can stop our descent except a major change in our government.

Listen up, Dumbo—you can do it. You can reverse our downward slide by listening to the people. All you need do is to follow the bouncing ball indicated by the polls and it can happen, and it must be soon. On a day much too close in the future, we will have reached the point of no return. Act now, before that point is reached.

Plagiarize Obama’s campaign slogan if necessary—just say YES, WE CAN! and YES, WE WILL! It worked for him and it can work for you. The voters, particularly the independents, believed him, but now they are disillusioned and they want change—they want to change back to the country we had before Obama changed it. They will believe you only if you offer something that will hold your feet to the fire if you renege on your campaign promises, namely the deposition I have outlined for you.

With it, you can do it—without it the people won’t believe you. Obama suckered them this time, but they won’t allow you to do it now—perhaps some years in the future, but not now—their wounds are too fresh.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

 
 

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Delphiniums and Al Gore . . .

Hey, since you’re already on my site, why not click here to check out my About the King of Texas? As I promised when I began blogging in March of 2009, I have expanded it, and I welcome comments on that expansion. And if you’ll click here, you’ll find lots of stuff about me that you really wanted to know but were afraid to ask.

Now on to this posting featuring a purple delphinium and Al Gore:

Earlier this year one of my three princesses, the one that lives, loves and works in Virginia, posted a gorgeous image of a purple delphinium to her Word Press blog. The photo was so beautiful and I liked it so much that I spent a goodly amount of time composing a comment to express my liking, and I used the comment to express my opinion on a certain figure that looms large in our political scene, so large that at times it raises my ire and restricts my view. I’m unsure why the delphinium directed my thoughts to global warming—perhaps I felt that if global warming is a reality, there may be no purple delphiniums in our future.

Click here to view a delightful delphinium with a plethora of pulchritudinous purple petals (I really love alliteration!)  http://cindydyer.wordpress.com/2010/02/26/fridays-eye-candy/#comments.

With full realization that one’s memory tends to wane as one ages, I do not believe my daughter has read my comment, so I am making it a separate posting on my blog. I’m bringing it out of the shadows of comments and into the bright light of its own posting. My humble opinion is that my comment deserves wider dissemination, and my ego requires it—nay, demands it!

Here is my original comment on the purple delphinium, and I welcome comments on my comment:

Your photographic representation of a purple delphinium finds me and leaves me at a loss for words adequate enough to praise its beauty. I can only say that it is NOT disgusting, grotesque, hideous, homely, offensive, plain, repulsive, ugly or unattractive.

As an afterthought, I suppose I could say that it is admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, bewitching, charming, classy, comely, cute, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, excellent, exquisite, fair, fascinating, fine, foxy, good-looking, gorgeous, graceful, grand, handsome, ideal, lovely, magnificent, marvelous, nice, pleasing, pretty, pulchritudinous, radiant, ravishing, refined, resplendent, shapely, sightly, splendid, statuesque, stunning, sublime, superb, symmetrical, taking, well-formed, and wonderful, so I will say it—in fact, I just said it.

As you well know, I face the East every morning and bow in homage to a giant, one that resides in the East—no, not the sun. I bow to a giant that is normally quite garrulous, a towering presence in all our media sources, but for some strange reason has fallen silent in recent weeks, a silence coincidental, perhaps, to the nation’s recent record snowfalls. Be that as it may, while bowing I repeatedly chant, “Al, baby, you’da most!”

My humble bow to that giant and my paying homage to Him (note the capital H) is in recognition of the fact that He is a giant that, for various actions ranging from beneficial to nefarious with all impinging on our society, will remain a giant unless discredited, and will be firmly ensconced in future annals of American history.

That giant is Al Gore, of course, the One (note the capital O) that foretold the extinction of our planet due to global warming caused by mankind, and for that prescience, that foresight, that knowledge of things before they exist or happen, had a Hollywood Oscar and a Nobel Peace Prize bestowed on Him.

Let’s face it—in his prophecies, Al Gore rivals Nicodemus!

In the interests of full disclosure, I must admit that I am deeply indebted to Al Gore for his invention of the internet—were it not for that prodigious discovery, I would really be at a loss for words—my comments on your blog postings would be reduced to words and phrases such as oh boy, great, nice, wow, okay, right on, you go girl, keep it up, make it happen, give us more, etc., etc., etc.

And also in the interests of full disclosure, I must reveal to your visitors from across the world that my compensation from you is based on the word counts of my comments praising your work, and varies in direct proportion to the number of words—fewer words less money, more words more money.

“N’uff said, or is that more than enough? Can you really afford me? Have your people call my people to discuss different terms of compensation.

I know, I know—I have far too much time on my hands!

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2010 in Uncategorized

 

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