Every once and a while I make a mental list of what has recently irked me.  Today I thought I’d share the most recent list with you.  Who knows?  Maybe these things irk you too.  And maybe I’ll make this a regular feature.

Item 1: Gum-smacking waitress in a restaurant.  I suppose I should be PC and say waitperson?  Somehow this smacks me as unhygienic.  What’s the problem?  Does she need to keep the saliva going so she can spit in my food?  I hadn’t even tipped her yet!

Item 2: Young gen-Xer passing me on the right to turn left in front of me.  Twenty feet into that next intersection, he’s waiting for a red light as I come up behind him, hoping he sees in the rearview mirror that I think he’s number one.

Item 3: Popcorn and soda at the movies adding up to more than the tickets.  That’s tickets in plural.  We go to matinees.  And we don’t buy any of their crap anymore.  90% of the movies are crap; we don’t need to be fed more crap while we’re watching.

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Item: Putin’s ventriloquist dummy.  Foreign Minister Lavrov uttered these words in Paris: “We don’t have a common vision of the situation.”  You think!  He was analyzing the difference between Putin’s, and ergo the official, viewpoint of the Ukrainian situation and the point-of-view of the rest of the world.  Some idiots are saying that a vote in Crimea for independence is just the expression of democratic choice.  What BS!  It’s the typical strong-arm approach to neocolonialism in the world, the desire for some countries (in this case, Russia) to steal territory (or even justify a complete invasion?) at the cost of a weaker one.  It’s how Hitler took Poland and Austria (the former sits right next to the Ukraine, by the way).  It’s how we justified taking Texas, Panama, and the Phillippines.  It’s how the Chinese justified taking Tibet.  The fact that all the bully countries in the world have done it or are doing it doesn’t make it right.

Moreover, Putin is giving the West his middle finger and mooning everything about international treaties…and the stupid Russians love it!  Crimea voted to secede.  Welcome back, Soviet Union!  Never mind that the Ukraine gave all those nukes back to Russia on the condition that Russia would always respect Ukrainian independence.  Clearly you can’t trust Putin and you can’t trust Russians, who yearn for the old days of Stalin when the Soviet Union was feared round the world.  Are we heading for WWIII?  Possibly.  I sure wish now that the Ukraine had kept some of those nukes.  It would have leveled the playing field a lot and possibly kept any conflagration local.  Apparently that’s the only thing the Soviet Union—oops! I mean Russia—respects, good old-fashioned détente.  Now gay-bashing ex-KGB dictator Volodya holds all the cards and the Ukraine is out of chips.

Item: Go Everywhere!  While the stereotypical Ugly American still exists and is often enforced by U.S. tourists brandishing their ignorance overseas, Americans who spend time living in foreign countries often develop different perspectives that provincial stay-at-homes are lacking.  Nicholas Kristoff in the op-ed “Go West, Young People! And East!” in last Sunday’s NY Times Review suggests that every college in America should require students to study abroad as part of their education.  (This is something I should have mentioned in my post “Education Overhaul” that will appear tomorrow.)  In fact, I’d go further than what Kristoff said.  I’d also reinstate the draft but have the option of soldiering AND community service, either in the U.S. or overseas.  College study abroad tends to be prohibitively expensive.  Unless colleges and universities become all public here and overseas semesters are competitive and government-funded, that’s not a viable option for already cash-strapped parents.

Item: Speaking of living abroad….  The Irish have been doing it for years.  First, there was the forced splitting up and resettling of Irish families engineered by Cromwell—the Irish haven’t been treated nice by the Brits long before the Troubles.  Then there was the English indifference to the potato famine that made Irish flee elsewhere…or starve.  Then there were the Troubles.  These are three major reasons for Irish leaving their homeland, but it’s been going on forever, at least since Irish monks saved Western civilization by copying and protecting all those ancient manuscripts from the great Western cultures.  Of course, you’ll find Irish in the U.S., from gangsters (remember Goodfellas, based on a true story) to football players (e.g. the fighting Irish of Notre Dame) to cardinals and other heavyweights in the Catholic Church (often literally), but also in the Caribbean and Latin America, not to mention in the Far East and the rest of the world.  One of my favorites is Bernardo O’Higgins who, along with Jose de San Martin, is the father of Chilean independence accused of becoming a benevolent dictator (often by the Church) and kicked out of Chile by a coup d’etat.

Item: Knowledgeable about his roots?  One person who is confused about his Irish heritage is GOP budget wonk and mean-kid wannabe-leader of the Tea Party, the most dishonorable Paul Ryan.  Timothy Egan in the op-ed “Paul Ryan’s Irish Amnesia,” in last Sunday’s NY Times Review, analyzes Ryan’s historical hypocrisy:  “…can’t help noticing the deep historic irony that finds a Tea Party favorite and descendant of famine Irish using the same language that English Tories used to justify an indifference to an epic tragedy.”  Egan and Sons is one of my favorite Irish pubs in Montclair NJ, but this Egan (presumably no relation, except that he’s Irish) is talking about GOP stinginess, led by Ryan, in refusing to continue federal unemployment, cutting food stamps, attacking any raise in the minimum wage, and voting against Obamacare (how many times?  Was it 40?)  Maybe he’s really ashamed of his humble origins.  If so, why not shut up about it?  Happy St. Paddy’s Day, Mr. Ryan!

Item: Tooting My Own Horn.  Here’s a press release about my new book Aristocrats and Assassins.  Klesc’s New Book Journal is useful for this—Raymond posts to other sites besides his own.  And it’s all free, bless his soul!

And so it goes…Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Volodya has a deranged, nostalgic view of past Russian might.  He yearns for a return to “the good old days” and seems hell bent on trying to recreate them.  While the rest of the world knows Communism with a capital C, aka the Kremlin mafia, failed completely and put the Russian bear on a stringent diet of becoming just another poor Third World oil country, this old KGB psychotic murderer lives in the past.  Only there can he flee from his own mortality; only there can he delude himself into thinking that Russia can return to greatness.

The irony is that Putin lives in the past but ignores any obligations Russia incurred there.  If I remember correctly, the Ukraine turned over all the nukes found within the borders of the new country to Russia and allowed the latter country to maintain its bases there on the condition that Russia would always respect Ukrainian independence.  I guess Volodya figures he didn’t sign that agreement, so he doesn’t have to adhere to it.  He pretty much does what he wants to do—he’s used to getting his own way as Grand Poobah of the Shirtless Universe.  Moreover, he’s as slippery as the oil and perspiration on those abs, and also the Russian chessmaster of doublespeak.  He lives so much in the past he thinks 2014 is 1984, although he probably never read the book—he had all the ideas he needed from the KGB.

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I’ve written about Putin before.  This narcissistic dictator trying to keep Russian in line thinks Sochi will bring him good PR.  I don’t get it.  The tyrants from the three Stans—the Three Musketeers of Thugdom—are featured guests at his Olympic extravaganza.  I’d guess they don’t have to stay in half-finished hotels, drinking brown water and being revolted by half-naked pictures of the great leader showing off his abs.  Rumor has it that bribes from a Russian Mafioso working for dear fearless leader Vladimir paved the way of obtaining the Olympics for Sochi.  Dunno.  It wouldn’t surprise me.

There’s the terrorist threat, of course.  Those antiaircraft installations above Sochi?  They’re ready to bring down any plane, commercial or otherwise, that even gives the hint of threatening the Olympic village.  I can’t see that they will be much use for stopping the famous Black Widow bombers—if Putin et al killed my husband, I’d probably be pissed too.  Maybe that famous ring will stop them, but watching the Russian police hasn’t given me a great deal of confidence.  And I’d bet they’d take a bribe in a minute—maybe a pair of blue jeans and some vodka?

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Posts like this one are hard to write.  At best, they’re dripping in nostalgia; at worst, they make you acutely aware of your own mortality.  Like many baby boomers, I grew up experiencing Pete Seeger.  From the unfair persecution by Sen. McCarthy to standing beside Bruce Springsteen at the Obama inaugural celebration, Pete was a part of American political life.  More than that, of course, his lyrics, voice, and banjo launched the folk song revival of the sixties.  He created songs that moved us, from “Where Have All the Flowers Gone,” a quiet but powerful indictment of war mentality so popular to Vietnam War protestors, to “We Shall Overcome,” the anthem for the Civil Rights Movement.

The McCarthy era was a black blight in American history where anyone left of the Rotary Club was considered a Communist.  McCarthy destroyed individuals like Oppenheimer and Chaplin; he and the paranoia he nurtured launched the careers of right-wingers Nixon and Reagan, and even the so-called “liberal” Kennedys.  Somehow, Seeger survived, stood tall, and sang out to millions of us who knew the U.S. could be better.  The man who pissed off both the John Birch Society and NBC (their censorship of the Smothers Brothers is all but forgotten now) was an instant folk hero to us as we marched against the fascist and oppressive forces on the right who were trying to tear America down.  We weren’t communists or Communists—we were progressive pacifists who knew in our hearts there’s a better way.

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Readers familiar with this blog know I have admiration for many things in Western Europe compared to the U.S.—world view, mostly multiparty systems, cultural traditions, historical perspectives, more reasonable socialism, and general joie de vive.  We Americans tend to be provincial, glum, and downright obnoxious at times, especially when we’re tourists in Europe.  The phrase “ugly American” isn’t used much anymore, but I have sympathy for the Parisians as another onslaught of American tourists gets ready to head to the City of Light this spring and summer.  Retirees and others from the West Coast to East will be seen mounting the tourist buses on the Rue de Rivoli in their strange hats, Bermudas, and sneakers, preparing to invade the Louvre and Versailles with videocams rolling.

Of course, Europeans have to tolerate us.  American tourist dollars are essential to many European economies.  And not just American dollars.  I’ve seen Japanese tourists all over Europe, for example, not to mention inter-European tourism (Spanish in Oslo, Swedes in Rome, etc.).  My tourism was sporadic and crammed in on weekend getaways mostly, but even back then the European trains, planes, and tourist sites were filled with Americans.  The number and distribution of tourists fluctuates with economical times, of course, depending on economies here and there.  You can always find Americans, however, in the most popular tourist sites.

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Vladimir Putin, the virtual dictator of Russia and wannabe star in an Old Spice commercial (I’m referring to his riding that horse shirtless), is either an idiot or completely living in the Dark Ages.  (This isn’t an exclusive or—he could be both.)  In press conferences referring to Sochi, he talked about Russia’s treatment of LGBT people in a manner that is not much more enlightened than Uganda’s.  Moreover, he seems to think gays are pedophiles—“Just leave our children in peace,” he says.

This clearly goes beyond the usual Russian paranoia.  It’s completely inexcusable for the leader of a nation that pretends to be important on the 21^st century’s stage.  Moreover, it’s a Neanderthal attitude not commensurate with 21^st century progressive thought.  Of course, Putin is light years from being a progressive.  He’s ex-KGB and longs for the good old days of torture and gulags, days when no one dared say anything against the Kremlin mafia.

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[TANSTAAFL: Do you read this blog?  I’m not asking if you like the posts, just whether you read them!  If so, don’t be passive.  React.  Write a comment—chew me out if you like (no foul language, please).  You can even receive a free ebook—see the bottom of the “Free Stuff and Contests” webpage; or write an honest review of one of my ebooks in exchange for the ebook.  In general, buy, read, and review some of my books.  Your participation motivates me and helps defray the costs of this website and my ebook releases.  Be active.  Help indie authors provide you with inexpensive entertainment.  It’s a two-way street, folks!]

Some time ago, I wrote a post about our larger-than-life governor, Chris Christie.  Last Thursday, I watched him waffling and weaseling about Bridgegate.  Sure, his aide might have ordered the traffic problems with the GW Bridge as payback all by her lonesome (in the press conference, he fired her).  As the mayor of Fort Lee (featured prominently in my novel The Golden Years of Virginia Morgan, by the way) stated, it’s hard to imagine that someone would engineer such a payback in the first place and then be so stupid to leave an email trail.

I originally thought same-sex marriage would break the Big Man in Trenton, but this might be the real bye-bye to his hopes for representing the GOP in the presidential elections.  Let’s say it like it is: the action was nasty and illegal, traffic was tied in knots, and a 90-year-old woman died because paramedics couldn’t get to her (her relatives claim it wouldn’t have mattered, but they’re not doctors).  Christie’s aide will fall on the sword in an attempt to take the heat off her boss, but his reputation as a bipartisan wunderkind is damaged.  Whether he ordered the payback or not, he hired that aide, so he’s responsible.

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[TANSTAAFL: Do you read this blog?  I’m not asking if you like the posts, just whether you read them!  If so, don’t be passive.  React.  Write a comment—chew me out if you like (no foul language, please).  You can even receive a free ebook—see the bottom of the “Free Stuff and Contests” webpage; or write an honest review of one of my ebooks in exchange for the ebook.  In general, buy, read, and review some of my books.  Your participation motivates me and helps defray the costs of this website and my ebook releases.  Be active.  Help indie authors provide you with inexpensive entertainment.  It’s a two-way street, folks!]

One of the great battles of World War II, this offensive was really a series of battles that took place in and around what’s known today as St. Vith, Belgium.  How do I know this?  For one thing, it’s one setting I use in my new entry into the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series” titled Aristocrats and Asssassins.  Detective Castilblanco jokes about his waistline being also “the Battle of the Bulge,” and that’s really the topic of this post.  I too have used this metaphor when referring to my over-indulging—many do, perhaps without realizing the origin.

Most people in the U.S. belong to one of two extreme groups: overeaters and undereaters.  The group they’re in varies from day to day and meal to meal, of course.  The second is especially concerning when it’s caused by poverty—too many children are hungry in this country relative to those in other industrialized nations, for example.  It’s also concerning when it’s brought on by eating disorders related to psychological problems, especially when those problems can be traced to a lack of concern for mental health in our healthcare plans.  But many of us are overeaters, especially around Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the days surrounding those holidays.  I’m in that category.

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[TANSTAAFL: Do you read this blog?  I’m not asking if you like the posts, just whether you read them!  If so, don’t be passive.  React.  Write a comment—chew me out if you like (no foul language, please).  You can even receive a free ebook—see the bottom of the “Free Stuff and Contests” webpage; or write an honest review of one of my ebooks in exchange for the ebook.  In general, buy, read, and review some of my books.  Your participation motivates me and helps defray the costs of this website and my ebook releases.  Be active.  Help indie authors provide you with inexpensive entertainment.  It’s a two-way street, folks!]

This real Man of the 20^th century was the inspiration for my character, the U.N. Secretary General, in the book Survivors of the Chaos.  I know that sounds self-serving and maybe diminishes Mandela’s greatness, but it’s a fact nonetheless.  He was a larger-than-life icon of South Africa’s struggle against Apartheid—he changed his country forever.  Moreover, he served and continues to serve as an inspiration for many who struggle against social and racial injustice everywhere, an inspiration that travels far beyond the small thoughts of an insignificant and unknown writer looking for a powerful character model.

There are forces for evil in this world like Franco and Hitler.  Mandela was a huge force for good.  But he just didn’t mouth the words—he lived them and suffered and gave dignity to his suffering.  He was not a perfect man—is anyone perfect?  I can’t speak for persons of antiquity.  I’m told that Buddha and Christ and Mohammed were perfect.  Didn’t know them.  Never saw their faces on TV.  Never listened to them vocalizing their words of wisdom.  But I, and countless others, listened to Mandela.  We experienced his goodness.  We heard his words of wisdom.  We saw him unite a country when he could have torn it apart.

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