time for something completely different part 3

more nom de plume stuff.

jmh

 

East Wind Go Away…

And come again some way way other day.  It hasn’t been a whole lot of fun around these parts since…what?…Monday morning?  The Santa Ana winds have been blowing off and on for way too long.  Blowing all kinds of annoying stuff up around and into our breathing spaces.
 
Dad woke up Monday morning sneezing and all clogged up.  His nose.  Not the other kind.  He was miserable.  He didn’t even have much fun playing with me because he kept sneezing and blowing his nose.  Finally he told mom he was leaving.  Hoping his sneezing and blowing and thumping headache would go away if he went to his place where the wind wasn’t as bad. 
 
Well, he says it did though he still has the headache off and on.  I wonder if I have sinus headaches?  Or allergies.  Now mom has what ever it is the wind is blowing around.  She isn’t in any mood to hang with me.  Or do any of our other stuff together.  She’s miserable.  Stuffed up with a sneezing sinus headache too.
 
I’ve heard her talking on the phone with dad and they wonder if they have become allergic to me.  Oh, my goodness!!!  I certainly hope not.  Though dad is fairly certain it’s just something from somewhere that the devil winds have stirred up and deposited here in Cucamonga and our house in particular.
    
Mom was sorta feeling better this morning but not really.  Dad was supposed to come over and they were gonna hang some new pictures and I was gonna play with dad and have lots of kitty fun.  Well, mom wasn’t in the mood for picture hanging let alone me or dad. So he’s over where ever he is still and I’m stuck here with a crabby mommy.  Oh, well.  I know I’m loved any ways.

I heard mom tell dad if she isn’t better tomorrow she was going to hang out with dad at their other place all day.  Yeah, where ever it is.  Which means I’m stuck again and probably won’t get to see dad till Super Bowling Sunday.  That’s when they are gonna grill hot dogs and watch the big game.  Maybe I’ll get some canned food.

Boy, I sure hope that’s still the plan.  I miss everybody. 
 
Meow for Now!!

Kwayla

i’ll pass on the kool aid

i sort of touched on this yesterday in a comment or something.  i guess it bears repeating. 

i was more than willing to give our new president the benefit of the doubt and just let him do his thing.  then i’d make some sort of decision about the guy somewhere down the road.  somewhere down the road is already here.

he’s pissed me off.  already.  i was never a fan of the last guy.  not by a long shot.  i really didn’t care for his dad that much either.  though i proudly display a letter from said dad in the living room.

anyway, back to the new guy.  first off his very first tv interview was on arab tv.  excuse me?  i guess i’m just a bit to old school for that kind of stupid move.  but then what do i know? 

then there’s the sanctimonious stuff oozing about him.  he comes off more sanctimonious than algore on a bad day.  i just can’t take it.  sorry.  it was the feeble attempt at humor and his comparison of dc and chicago weather that got that me going on that angle.  gawd, please send us adlai again.  he was a barrel of laughs compared to this guy.  ah, no.  scratch that.  this guy is adlai incarnate.  one was more than enough, thanks anyways.

we also have the stimulus package that is just so full of pork and dubious crap that it’s unfathomable why any sane person would want it to come to pass.

next, and i missed this one when it hit the bricks, was his statement that republicans should stop listening to rush limbaugh.  for some sort of vague non-partisan reasons i guess.  ok.  i stopped listening to rush years ago.  i just couldn’t take him any more.  say what you want about rush and it might be true.  i just don’t care.  but nobody tells me who or what not to listen to be it political thoughts or whatever.  that would also include reading material.

i mean what if i were the new guy and told you not to listen to al franken or barbara streisand or any number of their ilk.  you’d call me a nazi like you called the last guy.  the last guy wasn’t a nazi.  he just wasn’t very bright.  the new guy is bright.  he should know better.  then again i guess not.  either that or it’s just a glimpse of the shit to come.  i think it’s the latter.      

i put up with bubba and his antics.  at least he was entertaining in some sort of odd train wreck kind of a way.  the new guy?  no, thanks.  i’ll pass.  the kool aid?  you drink it.

i pounded this out last night.  i wasn’t really sure that if in the semi light of the new day i would still want to publish it.  yeah, i might as well. 

i think it’s a wonderful thing a black person has been elected to the office.  though i can’t help but wonder if maybe willie mays, hank aaron, tiger woods, joe morgan, charlie sifford, lee elder, joe ‘the jet’ perry and a slew of others may have filled the bill a bit better. 

the chicago political machine rolls on.  much to the dismay of any number of us.   

wake up, america.

jmh

a state of mind(?)

i’ve carried this one over from one of my other places.

seems myspaced out is having more of their ususal problems

 today.  i can’t stick up any links or urls or photos.  fine. 

 screw it.  now i have this print.  whatever.

drifting along here…i had been saving all of my crv(calif

redemtion value) plastic stuff since i moved in here.  like 6

months worth.   my shed was pretty much full of plastic
 
bottles.  i took the stuff to the re-cycle center and it was a

pain in the ass.  loading and unloading all of the shit.  bottom

line is i got $20.60 for my troubles. 

i went to the market and purchased $30 worth of decent calif

cabernet with my ‘winnings’.  i won’t be doing that anymore. 
 
screw it.  the stuff is going in the trash re-cycle bin from now

on.

i’m going to go wash my car now and maybe pull a few weeds

or spray the damn things.   i need the zen work out.  damn

near desperately.

 
a friend sent me what appears below.  it comes from the l.a.

times.   i’m actually surprised they let it get through the

editing process.  

 
we here in the land of the la las have know this for ages.   this

 dumb ass state spends a bazillion dollars on illegals every

 year.  various governators have tried their best to get the feds
to help out.  the feds refuse.  then tell the stae we have to

support them.
the illegals are breaking federal law but the feds are too damn

busy trying to give money away for and to every other damn

 thing on the planet.   something is rotten in the ship of state,

 my friends.  read on macduff…
 
1. 40% of all workers in L. A. County ( L. A. County has 10.2 million people) are working for cash and not paying taxes. This is because they are predominantly illegal immigrants working without a green card.

2. 95% of warrants for murder in Los Angeles are for illegal aliens.

3. 75% of people on the most wanted list in Los Angeles are illegal aliens.

4. Over 2/3 of all births in Los Angeles County are to illegal alien Mexicans on Medi-Cal, whose births were paid for by taxpayers.

5. Nearly 35% of all inmates in California detention centers are Mexican nationals here illegally.

6. Over 300,000 illegal aliens in Los Angeles County are living in garages.

7. The FBI reports half of all gang members in Los Angeles are most likely illegal aliens from south of the border.

8. Nearly 60% of all occupants of HUD properties are illegal.

9. 21 radio stations in L. A. are Spanish speaking.

10. In L. A. County 5.1 million people speak English, 3.9 million speak Spanish.

(All 10 of the above are from the Los Angeles Times)

Less than 2% of illegal aliens are picking our crops, but 29% are on welfare. Over 70% of the United States annual population growth (and over 90% of California, Florida, and New York) results from immigration.  29% of inmates in federal prisons are illegal aliens.


We are a bunch of fools for letting this continue
wake up, america.
 
jmh

the doom of gloom(?)

the impending collapse of everything we know and love is still upon us.  our new president would have us all belly up to the washington dc bar and order up a double shot of my baby’s love.  no, wait that’s an old song by the mccoys.  sorry.  but it might not be a bad idea any the ways.  at least it or that will keep you warm and distracted for a spell.  something we all might need. 

the latest stimulus package party is still being catered by the chinese.  we are running up one hellacious bill with those folks, my friends.  one needs to wonder when that bill is going to come due and just what the fuck we are going to have to do to get out from under the bill.

it’s not unlike running up a massive visa or mastercard bill then playing the slip and slide with their ‘no interest’ money to pay off one bill or a portion of the bill or another bill.  all the while saying to yourself, i’ll pay them off eventually.  thing is most folks never do who find themselves in that sorta trap.  of course, there’s always bankruptcy.  however, the way i was raised that ain’t an option.  but i digress.

sure, uncle sam isn’t or can’t go insolvent and declare bankruptcy.  he can just continue to print money.  more money for more bailouts.  hell, he can even bail himself out while sending us to the poor house with piles of useless monopoly money.  yes, i’m on that riff again.  maybe if i and a few others keep it up somebody will start listening and/or pay attention. 

kids, the titanic is sinking.  the nimrods in dc can toss all the money they want at the sinking ship of state but it ain’t gonna stop the water from rushing in and the ship from sinking. 

most of the pols in washington are like the pols here in california.  oh, the school system sucks.  i know.  let’s throw more money at it.  we’ll give em bushel baskets full of cash.  that will fix things.  no, it hasn’t.  the vast majority of kids are still morons and the fools they send the money to pour gas on it, set it on fire, then they ask for more money.

money for nothing and your chicks for free.  that might as well be the new u s of a motto.  because that’s what all this amounts to.  no more ‘in god we trust’ or ‘e pluribus unum’ or any of the other latin phrases that appear on our monopoly money. 

what follows has been around for a while.  a friend sent it to me in an email.  i didn’t write it and i have no idea who did.  but it’s one of those things that rings of truth and pain…

Lawrence Livermore Laboratories has discovered the heaviest element
yet known to science. The new element, Governmentium (symbol=Gv), has
one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198
assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which
are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called
peons.

Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert. However, it can be
detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into
contact. A tiny amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that
would normally take less than a second, to take from 4 days to 4
years to complete.

Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2 to 6 years. It does not
decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of
the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places. In fact,
Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each
reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming
isodopes.

This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to
believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical
concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical
morass.

When catalyzed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium
(symbol=Ad), an element that radiates just as much energy as
Governmentium, since it has half as many peons but twice as many
morons.

wake up, america.

jmh

time for something completely different part 2

Here’s some more of the nom de plum stuff.   

jmh

 

The Week Plods On 

I’ve been a big pest around these parts for the past day or two.  Mom asked dad if he would take me to their other place with him.  Dad said no.  Mom said she would help me get the request in writing and make it more official for dad to take me away from mom for a few days.   Dad still said no.   Plus he’s been very busy playing his new wii nine ball pool game.  No time for cleaning up after kitties.  Or so he thinks.

See, I make throw-up messes and other stuff around the house and dad wants no part of that action in his still new place.  Or my mom’s other place.  What I don’t understand is they have two places to hang out.  Me?  I’m stuck here.  In fact stuck here at times with no one to bother or other wise piss off with my kitty type antics.  Is it any wonder I’m a big pain in the neck when some one is here at this place?  I’m thinking probably not. 

 
Dad is coming over here for tonight and the next night.  I would bite him as soon as he gets here but I miss him and he’ll probably play with me or other wise chase me around the house for a while after he gets here. I also heard mom and dad talking about some big deal outing this coming Friday morning.  I need to make plans.  Big kitty plans and some sort of stow-a-way deal in dad’s car so I can go with them.   Shhhh!  They won’t suspect a thing.

Meow for now.

Kwayla

 

A Kitty Road Trip(?)

If you recall mom and dad were going to go on a visit this past Friday.  They were going to go visit a famous painter’s studio and look at his paintings.  Mr. John Budicin’s work to be exact.  Well, I of course needed to tag along but I wasn’t invited.  That’s pretty much standard for any and all outings my folks go on.  The last thing I hear when they leave is: “You’re in charge Kwayla.”  Harrumph.  Not this time.

I had my little knapsack packed and ready to go.  All I needed was to get into the garage and hide out until mom and dad got in the car.  I would sneak into the car and hide in the back seat keeping very quiet till they got to Mr. Budicin’s studio.  Then I would be like:  “Surprise!!! Here I am!!! Let’s go look at the paintings! 

Getting into the garage is pretty easy.  I do that all the time because they always leave the big screen door open when they go out there.  It’s a sorta no brain-er to wander through the garage smelling all the cool smells and stuff.  That is until someone notices me and yells for me to go back inside the house.  This time that wasn’t going to happen.  No one would see me until I wanted them to see me.

It was getting close to the time for mom and dad to leave.  I was sitting on the back of the couch looking outside and pretending not to notice anything.  Dad went out to the garage and left the screen open as usual.  Mom was in the bedroom finishing her make up stuff.  The perfect opportunity.  I grabbed my knapsack from behind the magazine rack and headed out into the garage as well.

Dad didn’t see me and I hid behind one of the trash cans.  It was hard for me not to start sniffing around because all the smells were sorta over powering me.  Not unlike Homer Simpson and donuts.  I resisted the urge to sniff around and just sat there sniffing the back of the trash can.  It was pretty good smelling so it wasn’t too hard to wait there.
 
Dad put some stuff in the car then went back into the house.  But I didn’t get a chance to sneak into the car.  A minute or two later mom and dad came out after telling me I was in charge.  Dad got mom in the car and closed the door.  I was beginning to realize that I hadn’t actually thought the whole deal through.  I was about to be left behind.  Again.  Left behind this time in the garage and in the dark for who knows how long.  Something I hadn’t counted on. 

I was about to have a panic attack.  Something that happens when I hear odd stuff or dad makes this weird noise and I come running thinking I may have to do CPR on him.  He and mom think it’s funny.  I don’t.  But that’s another story.

Anyway, how could they just leave and not check around to see if I was still in the house?   How could I be in charge if I wasn’t even in the house?  Suddenly going on a kitty road trip became a very very bad idea.  Things were spiraling out of control.  They were leaving and I was going to be stuck in the garage.  Sure, I had my knapsack but it was the first time I’d ever packed it and I only put in a couple of pieces of dry cat food.  What did I know about stuff?  Not much obviously.
 
The car was leaving and the garage door was coming down.  I came out from my hiding place but they didn’t see me.  The door was almost all the way down when I barely made it outside.

Now what?  I’d been outside a few times and it was sorta ok.  Ok because I knew I could just go to the front door and somebody would let me back in. This time was different.  If that stupid poodle from a few houses down was out I’d be in big trouble.  I had to do something fast.

Thankfully, the house next door had the garage door open a little bit.  I know the lady who lives there and she has a key to my house so she can take care of me when mom goes away for more than a day or two.  So I just went into her garage and sat by the back door and kitty cried until she found me. 
 
I was never so happy to see her.  She was pretty surprised to see me too.  Especially when she saw my knapsack.  She thought I was running away from home and I just got scared and came back.  I let her believe that.  I didn’t want her to know exactly what was going on.  It was better that that way.  She’s a nice lady and I made her promise not to say anything to mom and dad.  She said ok and took me back to my house.  Boy, oh boy.  I was one happy kitty after that.  I made myself a sorta promise not to try that again.  Well, not anytime soon.

Mom and dad had a nice time at the painter’s studio looking at all of his nice oil paintings.  Mr. Budicin told them to come back anytime they wanted to.  That was very nice of him.  To bad I didn’t get a chance to meet him.  Maybe next time.

J. Filippi Winery,  an oil by John Budicin. 

The rest of my weekend was just the usual.  I left some throw up for mom and dad on Sunday morning.  Just to show them how much I love them.  Aren’t I good kitty? 
 
Meow for now,

Kwayla  

Kwayla kitty

jmh

time for something completely different

here’s a couple of things i stuck up elsewhere under a semi sorta nom de plume, kwayla kitty.   it’s family friendly stuff and rated: G.   unlike my usual insanity.  i hope you enjoy it.

jmh

Hello 

Hi, everyone.  Some of you are already my friend and I do appreciate that a whole lot.  Really I do.  

I think my main writing problem will be trying to stay awake long enough for me to get something typed.  I type pretty good for a cat, huh?  any way, just remember I’m just a little kitty who got lucky and got rescued a long time ago by my mom.   Now my mom has a new friend and he’s way cool cause he plays with me a lot.  I like him but sometimes I have to bite him.  Hard.  Cause I’m weird at times and I like the taste of man blood.

So I hope you read this and make me happy.  I’m already happy casue I have  a nice mom and dad.  But if i get me some readers I’ll be pleased as punch.

Meow for now,

Kwayla

P.S.  I know where the good canned cat stuff is in the kitchen.  But I can’t get to it on my own.  If you can help out in that regard let me know.  Most of the time I just get the dry stuff.  Yucky!!!

 

My Weekend 

I had a pretty good weekend considering I didn’t get any good cat food.  Again.  I really don’t know what it is but I guess a girl can’t catch a break.  Feline wise any how.  I also got yelled at quite a bit by mom over the weekend. 

I was just doing my usual kitty stuff but I suppose she wasn’t amused.  Neither was dad but he didn’t yell as much.  We’re buddies and buddies stick together.  That is unless he needs a good chunk taken out of his forearm by my razor sharp teeth.  Only I know when that is liable to happen.  However, I must say he is getting much much quicker.  I may need to forget this buddy stuff and work on my kitty warfare tactics some more.

Mom and dad went to a cooking demonstration at a local winery for lunch on Saturday.  Not me I had to stay home.  I think maybe they were being too cheap to add me to the festivities.   But then I never get to go any where any ways.  Sigh.  The sad fate of most cats every where these days They said they had a nice time.  And that the food was pretty darn good.  Plenty of vino to swill as well.  Lucky them.  I have always wondered what vino tastes like.  Something else nobody seems to care if I ever get the chance to do or try. I’ve come close I guess.  Dad and mom like to blow their wine breathe in my face.  I suppose the fumes are pretty much like what it tastes like.  Though I really don’t know.

I do know that I love feet.  People feet to be exact.  Smelling clean or dirty ones.  It makes no difference to me.   I like to smell mom’s feet then bite her toes or foot.  I guess that was what all the yelling was about.  I’m just a little kitty and I can’t help it.  Sue me, as dad is apt to say.

I hope you guys had a nice weekend too.  See you gators laters.  The front door is open and I hear little birds on the patio.

Meow for Now,

Kwayla

 

kwayla kitty

jmh
 

a parable(?)

a friend of mine sent me this in an email.  i didn’t write it.  i have no idea where it comes from or who wrote it.  if i’m not mistaken it’s been around for a number of years.  due to the current sticky situation i think it bears repeating.  yeah, the ‘ c ‘ word used.  however, you could also substitute the ‘ f ‘ word.  doesn’t really matter much.   once your soul is lost it’s lost, well in this regard any ways. 

 
Catching Wild Pigs,  author unknown.

A chemistry professor in a large college had some exchange students in the class. One day while the class was in the lab the professor noticed one young man (exchange student) who kept rubbing his back, and stretching as if his back hurt.The professor asked the young man what was the matter.

The student told him he had a bullet lodged in his back. He had been shot while fighting communists in his native country, while they were trying to overthrow his country’s government and install a new communist government.

In the midst of his story he looked at the professor and asked a strange question. He asked, ‘Do you know how to catch wild pigs?’

The professor thought it was a joke and asked for the punchline. The young man said this was no joke. ‘You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. The pigs find it and begin to come every day to eat the free corn. When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are used to coming.

When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence. They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. The pigs, who are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat, you slam the gate on them and catch the whole herd.

Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity.

The young man then told the professor that is exactly what he sees happening  to America. The government keeps pushing us toward socialism and keeps spreading the free corn out in the form of programs such as corporate bail outs, supplemental income, tax credit for20unearned income, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops (CRP), welfare, medicine, drugs, etc.. While we continually lose our freedoms — just a little at a time.

If you see that all of this wonderful government ‘help’ is a problem confronting the future of democracy in America, you might want to send this on to your friends. If you think the free ride is essential to your way of life then you will probably delete this email, but God help you when the gate slams shut!

“A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have.”

    Thomas Jefferson

 

wake up, America.

jmh
 

excuse me(?)

the brown eyed girl does volunteer tax preparation at a senior center here in so calif.  she keeps badgering me about taking the course and doing the volunteer work with her.  i always say no.  mainly because my math skills are from like caveman days and i’d probably end up sending some poor old granny to jail by screwing up her tax return.  the brown eyed girl says not to worry, things are checked.  i would worry and i wouldn’t enjoy it.  trust me.

at any rate, she was going over some stuff late last week the irs had sent her in an email.  new stuff for the current tax year.  or april 15th of this year.  or some damn thing or another. 

seems that i could or you could get a tax rebate or something cause i or you maybe bought some damn new place last year during the time the offer is being offered.  yeah, that makes about as much sense as the irs does. 

any the ways, seems i or you can get in on some of the business bail-out dough.  sweet jesus.  come to poppa!  except the thing is the good old congress is making us regular tax paying law abiding normal working stiff back bone of the nation pay it back!!!!!  yep, i or you, can cash in but…we have to pay it back. 

every other stooge business ass hole is lining up for some cash money bail-out dough.  which they don’t have to fucking pay back.  i see it in the paper every damn day.  oh, lehman bros went out of business.  it cost us a pile.  please, send bail-out money, uncle sam.  i’ll tell you what, that’s what you get for trusting wall street and or the government for that matter.

larry flint and the porn industry want bail-out cash too.  why not?  i guess there’s a dearth of boners since the ‘first’ crash.  apparently not even larry and his semi sorta professional hardcore porn can even get broke dicks up.  so now he wants money because his sales are down.  just like gm or ford or another damn business in the country.  except for maybe the fire arms and ammo folks.

every swinging dick in the country and those sans said swinging dick want cash money bail-out money post bleeding haste.  they will all probably get it.  then they can spend it on re-treats in vegas complete with vintage china white smack and high dollar high end hookers if they damn well want to.  oh, yeah, there’s gonna be over sight.  yeah, right, and i have bridges in nyc i can sell you.  wholesale.

you and me?  we might get some bail-out cash if we jump through the hoops just right and meet all the small print crapola.  then by god, we get to pay it back!!!  interest free of course but what the fuck point is that?  sure we could go to vegas and blow our cash money from uncle sam too.

but the thing is we won’t be getting billions let alone millions.  we would only be entitled to up to like around $170,000 for the home buying rebate deal.  then it might not even be in cash money to blow on loose women and heavy duty drugs in vegas.  let alone enough for doubling down on a pair of deuces at the black-jack table in some sort of smack/alcohol induced purple haze.  yeah.  that’s right!!  it might be just pretend irs money and some sort of other gobbly goop irs mumbo jumbo stuff but the bottom line is you gonna have to pay it back!!! 

it turns out to be just another bill you will have every damn month until it is paid back.  why on earth would you even consider the deal?  also, it wouldn’t surprise me if in the very very small print of this rebate whatever tax deal you avoided by using this useless rebate would also mean you would have to pay it as well.  plain language?  the damn tax you avoided with the rebate will probably be due as well!! 

the irs being what it is would probably charge you interest on the avoidance beginning from whatever time it was you realized you could actually afford to buy a home beginning last year and up until the time it became clear you were probably lucky you did and even more so don’t have a mortgage on the new digs.  yeah, god bless the irs and uncle sam.  

damn, i guess i’m just getting old.  that must be it.  i guess i ought to send my congressman a nice bouquet of flowers and a few $20’s for getting me this little bon mot fucking piece of shit bonbon pay it back you dumb  sucker supposed bail-out cash table scrap for the the backbone of this once great nation. 

crap, i need a potato sack full of that useless monopoly money or wiemar republic money or what used to be know as legal tender, so i can go to the store and buy a loaf of bread.  that is if any of them are still in business.

for the history impaired here’s a nice graph of what went down in the wiemar republic back in the day.  the shape of thingsto come?

wake-up america before it’s too damn late.

jmh

turn and face the strange or cha…cha…changes (?)

i find it interesting our new president wants leon panetta to be his cia director.  actually it sorta has me a bit flummoxed.  i just don’t see it and hopefully those on the hill won’t see it either.  yeah, i know this is sorta like beating a (hopefully) dead horse but what can i say?

yes, the guy has been around and is more or less a hack like all the other hacks that make a living being a hack in washington, dc.  thing is he has no credentials to be director of the cia other than he’s a re-tread hack and he may or may not have actually read all of tom clancy’s novels.  any the ways, he’s an unqualified hack.  so much for change.  that goes for the others in the cabinet as well.  but that’s for another time.  perhaps.  if mr. panetta is confirmed i imagine his first day on the job would go something like this.

good morning, mr. panetta.  welcome to the cia.  would you care for a cup of coffee, sir?

good morning.  why, yes i would.  thank you.

mr. panetta is given his cup of coffee. 

then he says, i’d like to look around and perhaps have a meeting with  senior personnel in an hour or two.

of course, sir.  no problem, sir.  i’ll start working on that right away, sir.  would you like to see your office now, sir?

yes, please.

right this way, sir.     

as the the aide and leon walk down a hallway they chat amicably.  a bit further down the hall they stop in front of a door.  the aide opens the door and with that mr. panetta and his coffee are ushered into a broom closet.  he’s gently pushed inside and the door is closed and locked behind him. 

hey, what’s going on here!

nothing, sir.  if you feel around a bit you’ll find a chair and a light switch.  there are a few magazines and a porta potty as well.  lunch will be served at noon.  daily.  and you’ll be let out at 5pm.  daily.  we hope you’ll be comfortable, sir.  please, try not to make a scene.  now, we have work to do.  just don’t get any ideas.  capice?

yeah, that’s probably how it will go.  that is if we’re lucky because he’s no ‘wild’ bill donovan.  then who is? 

wild bill donovan.

 

jmh

~~ untitled ~~ part 3

this is the final chapter of the saigon trip.  i hope you enjoy it as much as the other two chapters.  i want to thank all of you for reading.  i appreciate it very much. 

~~untitled~~

part 3

we had to get a cab to the nearest boq.  way too hung over, plus too hot and humid to walk.  after an overly zealous breakfast and along with the cab fare we were broke again.  two more days in saigon and no money give us an idea of sorts.  finally.  grab a cab to air america.  catch a flight and just go back to ham tan.   this means stiffing the cabbie at the gate but we are too broke to care.  we caught a cab and it deposited us at the air base entrance.  we bolt and run like rabbits.  the cabbie to old to catch us and he’s unarmed.   

main entrance, tan son nhut air base.

feeling better about things we hit the air america terminal and ask about a flight back to ham tan.  we are told nothing is available for the next two days.  the only flight we can get is the one we had already booked two days down the road.  sleeping on the floor of the cia owned and operated airline for two nights is not allowed.  probably not even for five minutes.  the cia doesn’t run flop houses.

there’s a soldier in the air america terminal who hears of our plight.  he tells us to go to the chopper pad about half a mile away and see if we can hitch a chopper ride back to ham tan.  this lifts our spirits as it’s still early morning.  however, by noon we are beginning to realize we were stuck.  no chopper rides today.

the heli-port at tan son nhut.

we seem doomed to some sort of living nightmare.  when out of the blue this vietnamese army guy with a jeep walks up and says, you guys want a ride?  yes.  where to?  ham tan.  no way, way to dangerous.  so bill comes up with a plan.  i’ll give you this watch if you take us to bien hoa.  we figure we can stay in our company area and go unnoticed for a few days and somehow manage to get back to saigon for our flight back to ham tan.  the guy says, let me see the watch.  of course he doesn’t want it as it’s total junk and had already stopped running.  so no ride.  the viet then says, hey you guys got ration cards?  yeah, we have ration cards.  virgin ones. 

you see with ham tan being out in the nowhere boonies the army gave you smokes for free and there was booze on the compound.  you didn’t need to use the ration cards.  so they stayed virgin.  this changed later but at the time it was so. 

with that information the viet’s eyes light up.  he says, ok, i give you money.  then we go to the px(post exchange) and you buy all the cigarettes and beer on the cards for this month.  then i’ll take you to bien hoa.

this was actually a mother load for the viet.  the black market value for all the smokes and beer was a nice hefty amount of coin in any man’s language.  having learned a lot in the past day or so we say, nah, for all that you take us to ham tan.  once again, no way, too dangerous.  ok.  we counter with, xuan loc, which is about half way to ham tan.  we know a few guys there and we figure we can spend the night and worry about tomorrow later.  ok, deal, says the viet.  with that it’s off to px we go. 

after wards we load the guy up with the smokes and beer.  he then says, ok now we go to bien hoa, driving to xuan loc is too dangerous.   we counter with, ok.  we’ll throw in the junk watch and you don’t get shot right here and right now.  and we go to xuan loc.  the viet takes the watch and drives us the forty miles or so to xuan loc.

an aerial view of xuan loc.

it was late afternoon by the time we got to xuan loc.  the viet guy bitching the whole way.  he dropped us off at another macv advisory team compound and went off to find a place to spend the night.  we ate some dinner, watched a movie, then slept in guy’s bunks that were working the overnight shift in the commo(communication) bunker. 

there aren’t many mosquitoes in ham tan.  the beach and all.  too dry or something for mosquitoes even in the monsoon season.  however, in xuan loc they were thick and nasty.  the smell of fresh meat drove them particularly insane that night.  even with mosquito netting they were relentless.  waking up in the morning we found that our sheets were spotted with blood.  our blood.  spotted from rolling over in our semi sleep and squashing the little sated bastards into the sheets.   the guys came in looked at their now blood spotted sheets and were not happy.  xin loi, sorry about that.  it was time for breakfast and planning.  something.  anything.

someone at breakfast suggested we hit the chopper pad and talk to the
air traffic controller.  we say that didn’t work in saigon.  we are told not to worry.  so off we go to the chopper pad.  a very busy place.  even busier than saigon.  you see, in xuan loc there is a war going on.  the air traffic controller tells us ham tan is no sweat.  unless the chopper is on a medivac or a mission, he’ll have them come in and pick us up, for he is the lord of this air space.

a portion of xuan loc international airport.

not long after that a chopper lands and we are pointed to it and told to hop right in.  well, of course the chopper is already full and i have to sit with one leg out in space while i hang on to the door frame.  all this while trying not to get in the door gunner’s way.  my first chopper ride and when it was over i would never want another.  we didn’t know if the pilot was unhappy about being made to pick us up or if he was trying to avoid shit on the ground.  we never found out.  none the less, it was an even worse ride than the flight to saigon on air america.  hard to believe but true.

 

ham tan in sight.  finally home again.  that’s how it felt.  it always did.  we get back to the compound and everyone is surprised to see  us back so early.  before we can explain why in walks our company commander with the executive officer and first sargent in tow.  we of course are counting our blessings.  thanking everyone from god and buddha to swami vishnu the air controller didn’t flag down their helicopter.  finally some good luck or so it would seem. 

this is indeed a rare visit as the company commander never came out to ham tan.  it was too dangerous for him.  he always sent the executive officer out on pay days or for whatever.  but today he’s in ham tan and feeling fine.  noticing bill he says, hold on there lad.  we were trying to get out of the bunker.  is that a .38 special you have there?   first sargent, write him up for that unauthorized weapon, and that boonie hat as well.  yes, sir.  for you see, macv didn’t care what kind of weapon you carried as long as it worked and you could shoot it.  the rest of the military were locked solid into the bullshit.  hats were the same with macv as well.  some other units too but not our signal unit.  as bill was getting reamed i sidled out of the bunker before someone decided to go off on me.  off to the hootch, my bunk, and home for some much needed sleep.

fini

the photos in the story were just taken from various places on the net.  googled, in other words.  i want to thank whoever for having them on the net for me to find and use.  i’m not making any money on this deal so i suppose it might be ok.  any the ways, thanks again to whoever, the photos added to the story.

i used to have photos taken in nam.  even a few from saigon.  those i lost long ago.  moving frenzies being what they are.  frantic.  i also had some photos of ham tan and the advisory team.  those are now being cataloged at texas tech university and their vietnam center and archive.  at some point you will be able to be view them on line in the archive.  you should visit that site: http://www.vietnam.ttu.edu/  i think it’s the best vietnam archive in the country. 

yeah, i know the ending is sorta anti-climatic.  it was what it was.  all in all, i think it’s a good story.  thanks for reading.

this story/idea is registered with the writers guild of america, west.

jmh