Mark Twain has been dead for over a hundred years, and I have been alive for all but 40 of those years and have written only a few lines of prose I feel would be favorably compared to his talent.
Like Mark, my mother was a woman and my father was a man. We both started this life very young, and quickly got over that. Twain was born in Tennessee, and I was born in Tennessee. Twain married the love of his life, and I married the love of my life. Twain smoked many fine cigars, and I have smoked a cigar. Twain traveled the world and I have been to the Smokey Mountains twice. Twain lost money in the stock market and I have lost money in the stock market. Twain had three daughters and a son, and I have 7 sons and a daughter. I have read virtually most of what Twain published and he has read none of my unpublished writings.
Twain wrote to entertain himself and I have written to that same goal and succeeded on a few occasions. When a good line flows onto the screen out of the ether it is like having a baby. You know something took place to conceive it, but you are not really sure where it came from. For example as I have aged, I have taken on many of my mother's and maternal grandmother's traits, especially my breasts which have grown larger throughout the years and no longer resist gravity and have begun to sag. At least they are not as hairy as mom's. Grandmother had several moles on her chin which had porcupine quills sticking out of them and when she hugged you or gave your little face a kiss you would bleed for 15 minutes. She smelled like sour pickles when she got older and I am beginning to think she is with me now as I smell her if I have not bathed in a few days.
When I tell new acquaintances I have eight children the shock in their eyes is quickly turned to a laugh by my follow up line that I had them til I had one I liked. Some of my older children have used the line to great advantage in interviews. Yes, I am number three of eight siblings of a father who had kids until he had one he liked and you know from this I had a pretty bleak childhood after my youngest brother was born. In fact the only time I saw my father was when I was looking through some old photographs at granny's house and came across a picture of the bride and the groom.
The best posts on this blog, are mostly in the favorites column, but "death of my father" is my favorite along with "slow cooking the turkey" and my "policy on lighting". The Soros column is too hate filled, and I should not write so of that meddlesome old bastard who wants to remake the world in his image. What a bunch of shitheads. We just want to change the world. And we just want to be free of nettlesome old farts with great plans to effect everyone else on the planet. If he really wanted to change the world for the better he could die. Just my opinion. And as we all know opinions are like assholes, everyone has got one. Get thee behind me Satan in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior!
Flying home a few days ago from work the weather took me up to 7,500 to clear some clouds over the Tennessee River, I could have flown under them but 1500 feet is too low and the plane is too fast and birds are a problem at lower altitudes, and buzzards pack quite the punch if struck at 180 mph. The clouds broke up nicely west of the river and while I was descending to my pattern altitude of a thousand feet, the engine purring along at 2200 rpms and 22 inches manifold pressure suddenly coughed and burbled, rumbled and shook the entire plane for a brief moment making me think of a catastrophic engine failure and my impending death or at least a forced off field landing. My nerves of steel and my pilots training kicked into full gear as I screamed like a little girl at a birthday party, then I pulled the carburetor heat on and switched fuel tanks and turned the auxiliary fuel pump on and continued smoothly on my way to the airport for another beautiful plane meets runway moment and nobody got hurt! I have flown regularly for 18 years racking up over 1750 hrs as pilot in command and this is the first time I have had carburetor ice. I will reach for the carb heat from now on. Lesson learned.
The more things that come out about Hillary Clinton, the more I am convinced she is not the right person for the job she so vigorously is seeking. Her judgement is flawed and her politics are wrong for America. She should hope for reincarnation and shoot for royal birth if she is to have any hope of gaining power.. thinking people would not place her in charge of a fundraiser for a community library, let alone the presidency of these United States.
Hillary Rodham Clinton, she is truly a woman whose time has come and past. In a word or two, vile and unaccomplished. Placed in positions of great responsibility and authority but little achievement and no luster in her deeds and no limits to her selfishness and greed. When the world needs another greedy sociopath to take over who is both quite frumpy and aloof, we know where to find you, counting your krugerrands at the Clinton Foundation and Grift Shoppe. And hey, Hillary, don't call us, we will call you. Have I said enough?
Donald Trump, meanwhile continues to enrage the political elites. Beck and Levin have shit themselves. They cannot believe Americans demand an American leader whom they consider rabble even with his billions, he is too common! Trump is US! What will he do to the progressive agenda, the border, trade, Wall Street, the new world order? He has the support of the American people and the ire of the 1%ters. He must be very, very smart to run the gauntlet to the presidency. So far he has made it look like a walk in the park, but the wolves are stalking him and he must not let his guard down.
I am
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
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