One may think that a person who would misspell a name such as “Mastonod” for Mastodon might be a little light in the head. I can’t argue that so I freely admit to it. Then again, it is a gutsy move to offend my readers with a misspelling of an ancient creature. Believe me, they don’t care. They don’t care a wit, which they were short on anyhow. I give mastodons less credit for changing the world than scientists. I give scientists a lot of credit for changing the world as they are the ones who developed really deadly weapons.
Oh well, it’s all water under the bridge now, eh? Nah, it blows up the bridge with old men, children and women on it. We do owe a debt to some scientists though, Salk and others who saved thousands of lives with vaccines. Polio among the worst. I grew up in the polio era which included phones you spoke to an operator on to connect your call to whichever number you wanted to reach.
I’ve seen damn near everything since the end of World War Two in fact and Vietnam first hand. Funny how when you are born tells you when you will go to war. War. What a bloody waste of energy. And that rounds back to life, doesn’t it?
This is about life and how we live it. A pointed dissertation on the folly of generation after generation spoken in the first person by one who was there since 1948. Of course, one needs to laugh at themselves before critiquing others. I am a laugh riot so chock full of mistakes that I am a walking comedy club. You wouldn’t know that from this start though, so you’ll have to come back after I reload with ammunition.
I come to you from a quaky place in a rather debilitated state of both governmental and the personnel who run (ruin?) this shabby, though once great, place. Newsom, even his mother is irritated by his swelled head and lack of substance. A smooth talker has his hands in your back pocket, always. Governments are not the reason to live. No, life is the reason to live if you make the effort to not screw it up.
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