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This Week, Gordon Speaks

Gordon, for those of you that aren't aware, is the little Gecko lizard that shares my deck with me.

Pride and  Prejudice
Got to love people that speak their mind. While receiving a physical therapy treatment, I was privileged to hear a conversation between a patient and a therapist concerning a shooting in New Orleans.

Louisianians have the kind of relationship with New Orleans that Wisconsinites have with Milwaukee. They are cities the rest of the state loves to hate. Everything that's wrong with society today starts with people that live in the city.

Not surprising, both cities are minority-majority cities, and much of the bad things that happen involve black and Hispanic city dwellers. Like the TV stations in Milwaukee, the local TV broadcasters in New Orleans like to feature news articles involving shootings, carjacking, and other crimes that occur in the city. Unfortunately, there is enough for daily consumption.  The market for TV stations in New Orleans is similar to the one in Milwaukee. Let's just say they are making suburbanites comfortable with their choice to leave the city for their gated cul de sacs in the burbs.

In this case, an undercover cop involved in some kind of drug dealer scheme was shot several times and is in critical condition. Very little was know about the details of this situation at the time of broadcast, but it was enough to promote conjecture.

Now I fail to remember the word-for-word comment from older women sitting next to me receiving electronic stimulation treatments. The thread of conversation went from, "my God, that's terrible" to "the trouble with the world today is children from single-parent families."  All of that, by the way, without taking a breath, inserting a comma, or a period. And then, as fancy and as smooth as a square dance doe see a doe, they were talking about this new damned Governor, who doesn't support drug testing public welfare clients.

I failed to see how drug testing welfare clients would have prevented this police officer from getting shot. I bit my tongue, and many would say I shouldn't have. I have lived down here long enough to know that no one wants to hear anything that goes against their ingrained attitudes and beliefs. Many would say I don't want to change my attitude and belief, and they are correct.

Latest News About the Wounded Officer. 

Metro Police, County Sheriff's, and FBI agents raided a home in New Orleans they believed was the site of repeated drug sales. During the bust, the alleged drug dealer shot a County Sheriff's Officer five times. The shooter has been arrested and charged with numerous charges, including selling drugs and assaulting a law officer. The officer is still in critical condition, but doctors are confident of his eventual recovery. There are no reports of any of the participants in this incident being the product of single-parent homes or welfare recipients while under the influence of drugs.

Winter in the Tropic's
It's like waiting for an accident to happen during an auto race. You don't know when. You don't know-how. You don't know who it's going to affect. But, you do know it's going to happen and maybe more than once.

Bu,t I'm not talking about an auto race. For a flatlander from the upper midwest, if it's January, February, or March, sooner or later, it's going to snow and probably snow a lot. But down here in the subtropical environs of Southeast Louisana, it's probably not going to snow, and if it does, it isn't going to amount to much. On the 26th of January, it is 64 degrees and overcast. This is my backyard.

I have comfortably sat on my deck and read for an hour or so during the day. And hence, my conversation with Gordon can take place. I'm sure there are worse things than this, and I do my best to suffer in silence.
Gordon does not know we are moving, and while I could be selfish and take him back to Wisconsin in a terrarium, I will not. He needs to be a free-range Gecko. I understand they taste better and are healthier for you. Not that I would eat Gordon. No. Hell No. Well, maybe if I was really hungry and there was no protein in the frig. But that would be really, really weird.

Gordon: Hey, white man. Whatsup?
Whiteman: Not much, long tail. What's happening in the grass, my gecko.
Gordon: Trouble by the pound if you must know.
Whiteman: No say, Jose. Anything I can do?
Gordon: Yeah! for starters, can you chain up that dog of yours. Then call the animal control guy and get rid of all of the stray cats. And while you're at it, buy a gun and shoot all of the F*(^^%$ birds in this yard.
Whiteman: Tall order. To begin with, all of the aforementioned have as much right to access the yard as you do. And I'm adamant in my decision not to own a firearm.
Gordon: Oaky, but we need to negotiate a peaceable use of the yard. For one thing, the birds are building settlements in the trees in complete ignorance that they don't have the right to do so. The cats are constantly raiding the yard with no concern for the fear and insecurity their actions create.
(I think I've heard these arguments in another context.)
Whiteman: Longtail, these are natural behaviors by these species.
Gordon: Yeah, but who built the house and the fence and changed the environment? Who brought their pets here and lets them run wild? Who puts food in the bird feeders? You know it's not like I built my home at the end of the airport runway, and I'm complaining about the noise. And don't give me that old if you don't like it move shit!

You've got to like this little guy's chutzpah. I discussed this with my dog and the one stray cat that talks to me. I don't think we're anywhere close to picking a neutral site for the peace talks. Watch this space for news of any progress.


"Trump’s entire political talent is to tease out the most dubious instincts of his listeners..." David Remmick, Editor of The New Yorker, from his column in the online version of an article entitled "Friday Night Lights Out."

This column is not about politics. However, the quote reminded me of a thought that came to me while watching an over-the-air conversation a couple of pundits were having about the danger of an impending nomination of Donald Trump as the Republican candidate for President of the United States.

In the early 1980s, when the Republican Party began its hard swing to the right. They did so by playing the race card, among other things such as supply-side economics and some social issue campaigns that their predecessors would have looked at as interfering with individual rights.
Needless to say, the race card these Republicans looked nothing like the overt KKK approach. No, they didn't hide under sheets with eyeholes punched in them. They emulated their charismatic leader, Ronald Reagan, as they winked, nodded, and used code words to tell the white voters that they were right and should be comfortable with their dislike and distrust of Blacks and Hispanics. 

So I ask you, why are they now surprised that the guy with the nerve to drop the mask of politeness and political correctness should be a  hit on the political trial by fire we call the nomination process?

Trump is a boorish buffoon who is most adept at self-promotion and being famous for being famous.

He is, according to the same pundits, the Republicans' worst nightmare. He is not capable of fulfilling any of his ridiculous promises. He would be a terrible representative of the most powerful nation on the planet. 

Peter Wehner, one of George W. Bush’s senior aides, recently wrote in the Times that he couldn’t support Trump under any circumstances.“If Mr. Trump heads the Republican Party, it will no longer be a conservative party; it will be an angry, bigoted, populist one. Mr. Trump would represent a dramatic break with and a fundamental assault on the party’s best traditions.”
My observation: Republicans already fall under this description without Trump. He's merely more candid about his beliefs and his vision. Trump is simply an example of the unintended result of a group that should have been careful of what they wished for.

Goodbye now from Camp Jeff on the sunlit shores of Lake Ponchartrain and the morning fog of the Bayou country.

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