Feb 8 - It’s nine days before President’s Day.
It did not escape howieblogg’s attention, that a presidential election was held three months ago, and a new (old) president was chosen. I chose. (You probably did too.) There was great unease before the election; there is great unease post election.
I’m disoriented. Did we also elect a businessman from South Africa as some sort of co-president? He was not on the ballot, but he seems to have taken up residence in the White House—and he’s giving orders. No one ever addresses him as Mr. ‘Co-President’ though, but always as, “World’s Richest Man.” Always That. Every news article I’ve read about him uses that title, “World's Richest Man.” Clunky—those three words. Why doesn’t everyone just shorten his title to simply, “My Lord”?
And—have you seen the latest 'official' portrait of our re-elected president? The old amiable portrait is gone. In the new one, he's harsh-eyed, malevolent, glowering. The president’s former 'Mr Nice Guy' smile has been replaced by an,"I'm a Badass." glare. The message is pointed, "Fear me now - and obey... or else."
Well, Mr. Badass has certainly been dropping a whole lot of shit on us since the election. He seems to have an unlimited supply of the stuff. I suppose one could look at this in a different light. Another word for shit is manure. In manure new life can grow. Perhaps, the ‘Make America Great Again’ hype could actually sprout something good, - but only in opposition to all the crap the president, and the MAGA crowd, is spewing. I hope more and more people in the nation will finally realize we have a lot to lose with this president—and with the president’s chosen crew. In the meantime, hold your nose. This stinks.
Meanwhile, tomorrow is the biggest event of the year.’—’Super Bowl Sunday’. In 1967, I watched the very first Super Bowl on our neighbor—the Seaders, brand new RCA color TV.¹ I’ve not missed many Super Bowls since—But, I’m not going to watch this year. Yeah, that’s right—not–gonna–watch—not even the highlights on YouTube.
Yes, howieblogg is informing its HUGE subscriber base, that I am shunning our most bet-upon holiday of the year! I feel compelled to respond to America’s post-election mayhem, somehow. That’s right— I'm boycotting the Big Game. What’s more—I won’t even bother finding out what the pundits say are the best Super Bowl commercials, or look into how much a 30-second ad costs this year. I’m serious. I’d rather sit on the bank of the river here - and watch the river flow. (Though, it’s too chilly outside—Yeah, I know, talk is cheap.)
Feb 10 - Super Bowl Sunday came and went. I did not watch the game. But what did my boycott accomplish? I missed a ball game and all the hoopla. I ate a plate of spaghetti and a bowl of toasted kale, but I didn’t post on Substack, so no one knew of my boycott… Let’s move on.
Feb 17 - President’s Day has arrived—Featuring these guys, of course.
For my money - They were the real deal.
I loved ‘National Holidays’ as a child, especially when we got the day off - or better - the week off from school. On the other hand, I remember dreading the first days of September, because Labor Day was arriving; Labor Day was the anti-holiday. The new school year began the very next day. I never wanted to go back to school after summer break. I can remember coming home in tears after the first day of school. The change from summer’s freedom to sitting for hours at a desk was very shocking. However, I usually adjusted within a week (except when I began Jr. High School, with its more rigid compartmentalization. It took till spring to recover from the first year of Jr. High School. Baseball season helped. Baseball always helped.
President’s Day was created to celebrate George Washington’s birthday - but at some point, they tucked Lincoln's birthday in this holiday too. (I seem to remember they were separate holidays - Did we get two days off from school in February? I think so.)
I was always glad to see the papery head of George Washington, and that of Abraham Lincoln in a classroom. I welcomed their steady stare as I set up my camera.
The moment was ripe in 1987, when I saw 'Scout Law' hanging there, along with George. This was good—better not screw it up. Gotta’ work quickly—before the beautiful light disappears.
What could be a better combo than ‘Scout Law’ and Mr—“I cannot tell a lie, father: I did not cut down the cherry tree?”
“Class—the lesson for today is—This is how a great man acts—EVEN when just a child. Can YOU be great too?” (Editor’s Note: The famous ‘Cherry Tree’ tale is probably just a myth - a useful white lie.) “Really? Really! Hush your mouth, howieblogg! Stop ruining the ‘lesson for today’”
George Washington's Rules: Put your hand over your heart and repeat:
Be clean, including keeping your nails short and your hands and teeth clean Be courteous and friendly, and be the first to greet others Be obedient and honor your parents Be cheerful and speak in a good-natured way Be thrifty and modest in your clothing Be brave and have a strong conscience Be reverent when speaking about God
It’s obvious where ‘The Scouts’ got their ‘Laws’ from. (I can say I do follow at least one of these rules - “Be thrifty and modest in your clothing.” That’s been an easy one to follow.)
But now it’s time to—
“Bring me the head of Abraham Lincoln!”
OK—But, I must also include ‘Unsolved Additions’, and a little girl with lots to figure out.
Lastly, I’ll end this post with this ‘little known’ verse from The Tempest. Because, like the insubstantial print above—fading right before our eyes. (I failed to fix it properly.) Everything does, ultimately, fade away. And, so, too, will our presidents—good, bad, past, present, and future.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. (The Tempest, Act 4 Scene 1)
Ah, Shakespeare! This is the sweetest poem ever—about oblivion.
¹Back in 1967 it was called the AFL-NFL World Championship Game: Chiefs vs Packers. The Packers defeated the upstart AFL Chiefs: 35-10