A MINOR IRRITATION

I have tried, lord knows I've tried.

I have steadfastly tried not to discuss politics on this blog.

But today I am breaking my promise to myself.

Last night's Golden Globes telecast featured a special award to the actress Meryl Streep for lifetime achievement.

When she accepted the award, Ms. Streep took the occasion to criticize President-elect Donald Trump for his speech in which he mimicked a disabled New York Times reporter.

You knew that the incredibly thin-skinned Trump would respond to that, didn't you?

He first tweeted that Streep was one of the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood and then said she was a Hillary Clinton flunky who "lost big."

Trump went on to say that he never mocked the Times reporter but simply showed him groveling after changing a story he had written about the President-elect.

Okay, folks, them are the facts.

Now here comes my opinion.

First of all while I am no fan of Donald Trump, I get a little burned by the actors and actresses who take advantage of a public microphone at an event honoring excellence in movies and television to express their political opinions.

My view is that if they wish to express those opinions they should do it in a proper place.

Write an op-ed piece for a newspaper, do an interview with a political reporter, but leave what is supposed to be an entertainment vehicle as a place to graciously accept your award and thank the people who helped you win it.

As for Trump, how can he call the most honored actress of our generation "one of the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood"?

And Streep (Hillary Clinton) didn't lose big.

Let us remind the Tweetster in Chief that his opponent won nearly three million more votes than he did.

And I suspect no one who saw Trump's speech would doubt that he was mocking that reporter.

And what the hell is he doing carrying on one little spat after another on a Twitter account for anyway?

Doesn't he have matters of state to attend to, like forming a government?

How are we to respect a President who has such a tender ego and such silly priorities?

All right.

End of rant and though I know there will be comments I'm going to get back, after today, to my non-political stance on this blog.

Have a nice day, Gentle Readers.

YES, THEY REALLY DID

Gentle Readers, if you didn't believe yesterday's post about the Polar Bear Splash, there is absolute proof in today's edition of our local newspaper.

To see pictures of the madness, click here.

THE POLAR BEAR SPLASH

There is a strange phenomenon in this world which involves people taking part in abnormal activities.

In Prescott Valley, Arizona, where I live, as in many other places, this takes place in early January, at the local swimming pool.

I should note that the swimming pool is only open for this one event, having been closed for months because of the colder weather.

Yet for some odd reasons, such as manliness and general lunacy, a small group of men come to the pool to take a plunge.

There is also an Ice Princess contest, men only, in which the winner is determined by the amount of hair on his chest!

Each of the Plungers has to sign in, presumably on a waiver of responsibility for the medical problems that may ensue.

A couple of the loonies brave souls were checking out the water.

So why, you might ask, would any individual leave his warm home on a day when the temperature is hovering in the 40's to jump (however briefly) into an icy cold swimming pool?

Maybe it's the free pancake breakfast with which they are tempted.

And it's not only the youngest citizens of the community who join in.

This fellow claimed to be "only" 58!

He asked me if I was going to join him?

I swiftly declined, thinking to myself . . . "my mama didn't raise any idiot children!"

As a matter of fact, the air temperature was cold enough to send me scampering for home over an hour before the scheduled plunge.

You and I can only assume that they actually did it.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Yeah, yeah, I know.

I mean I appreciate Fridays too but I really get tired of this gal running up and down the street yelling with her Valley Girl accent.

But it's not a day to be grouchy so let's move right along to the humor.

Oops, sorry 'bout that.

Gentle Readers, wherever on the globe this finds you, I sincerely hope you have an outlandishly fabulous weekend.

And remember, always keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

Oh don't be frightened.  

It's just that gal running around welcoming "Fraiyday" again.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

This is a picture of me as a diligent student in my college days.

Clean-shaven, bespectacled, with a crew cut hairdo.

But why, Gentle Readers might ask, is he wearing that silly grin, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Because he is participating in a campus stunt of the late 1950's which involved stuffing as many people as possible into a space built for many fewer.

I think it began with phone booths.

Those of you too young to remember phone booths, this is what they looked like.

Generally they were a compartment with a folding door containing a pay telephone.

If you're a fan of the Doctor Who television series, you may recognize them as looking like this.

But, before the advent of cell phones, they were used to make telephone calls.

Or for rowdy students to cram into en masse.

But by the time of the picture of the student that began this post the telephone booth had been replaced as a space to be stuffed by another small object.

The Volkswagen Beetle!

The tiny German car was designed as a rear-engine economy car for four people.

(I might add four SMALL people.)

The front compartment was the trunk, here housing your scribe, among others.

On this particular night, I believe the seats had been removed from the car in order to accomodate more passengers.

The owner of the automobile, Lew White, is seated on the floor behind the steering wheel with his glasses pushed up onto his forehead.

21 Jamestown College students were crammed into the car. 

It was driven slowly and carefully, with much noise from the occupants shouting directions to the driver who couldn't see where he was going, over to the girl's dormitory.

Proof can be shown by the lighted headlight.

You may note a miniature cowbell in my hand, used to further announce our arrival.

Ah, college days, when so many hours were spent at desks "hitting the books".

And then there were nights like this.

(Before I hear from the fashion mavens out there, I will call attention to my stylish argyle socks.)

DAWN

Dawn over the savannah the other day.

Could this represent the light dawning in Washington yesterday.

I doubt it.

TUESDAY TRAVELS

When I was a "young man" I used to hitchhike back and forth from my boyhood home to my college.

It was about 225 miles and I usually had pretty good luck.

But I can remember a few scary times.

Once I was traveling with one of my college dorm mates and we were picked up by a young couple.

The guy driving kept looking back at us in the back seat and chattering away while steering the car with one hand as he drove at what were very high speeds for the time and the two-lane roads.

When he stopped for gas, we bailed out, thanked him for the ride and congratulated ourselves on still being alive.

Another time I was dropped off on a country road far off my normal route and everyone else's, judging by the lack of traffic.

Then it started to rain.

Then it started to pour.

I had no protection and was soon soaking wet.

Finally a car stopped and a kindly couple of older women told me to get in.

I protested (a little), telling them I was very wet but they told me to never mind that.

I think they were school teachers and they got me back to my normal route and drier weather.

Then there was the man who picked me up on another trip and chatted amiably.

I was feeling good about this ride until he said he was headed for Albuquerque and invited me to come along.

We were in North Dakota at the time so I got a creepy feeling and nervously declined the opportunity to visit the Southwest.

It was a few decades before the gay era, when homosexuality was still mostly in the closet but I knew enough to be glad the man was a gentleman who let me out of his car near my college.

Times have changed since those carefree days of the 50's.