You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘history’ tag.


Some are interested in fishing advice when it comes to Lake Bonaparte…I’ve fished the lake for 70 years, maybe, if you count me as a baby in my dad’s arms who’s fishing off the dock.  I’ve fished every time of day and in every kind of weather during the summer up at the lake over the years. I’ve been a “up and at em’ 4 am fisherman” and a late at night fisherman until the mosquitoes took me home.

Thing is, there is a science to fishing—it’s not a matter of luck, but timing and skill…

My Grandson has a perfect approach to the methodology of fishing few can match.

Your ears need to hear the fish, and then you wiggle them.

Okay, forget that, It comes to this—though any rule can is broken when it comes to fishing—the fish in Bonaparte sleep in. The mornings bring waters as still as glass.

I don’t blame the fish for sleeping in. What’s the rush when it comes to eating your buddies? Bonaparte fish have all day and all night to nibble on their neighbors so why waste good morning sleeping hours on that? The mornings bring the light, the exposure to birds and whatnot. The quiet of the evening and night before is soon disturbed by those who think they should fish early and wake the lake residence up with the motors built by Cape Canaveral.  Who needs that when there’s soft sea-weed and lure snagging stumps to sleep by?

Another question: why do I ever leave this sight?

But, I do.

Sure, I’ll still get up early in my lifetime to fish. This is absolute fact. Thing is, I’ll be trolling the sun-up as much as anything else. I’ll be hunting the morning fog as it lifts from the lake to the sky, as the Heron silently swings by on their way to a distant shore. The sunlight will streak the sky into unimaginable colors as found on my lures not yet snagged on that awaiting log—may these lures rest in peace. The chill will vanish and soon I’ll find myself plugin’ a shore line full of empty water. Maybe, a beaver will swim across my view as the night’s last bug bites my ass. This is why people say, “He’s caught the fishing bug.” The point is the bug; not the fishing.

Anyway. I’ve some stories to tell, too many because I love to write, or talk. But hear this: I once sat on our bluff looking out at Birch Island as a soft afternoon rain began to fall. My mom came up to me and said, “Go fish…” I went right out to Birch Island in that drizzle and landed the most unusual fish I’ve ever caught. Off rocks with a red/orange hew( a fungus?) I landed a 4 1/2 pound small mouth that is on our wall, and it’s belly was as red as a sunfish to match the color of the rocks. Unfortunately, the taxidermy never got to see that color as the fish was frozen by my parents before they got it to him…One large mouth I’ve caught in Lake Bonaparte is more than 8 pounds and also hangs on our camp’s wall. That fish I caught in a driving wind of a storm about 1 PM in a protected shallows…I was, yes, crazy to be out, but the storm came up and I had headed for protection from the wind and had decided if I was about to die, I might as well fish.

You might as well fish. No matter morning, noon or night. Thing is, no fish bite a dry lure. I never found one in my tackle box wiggling on a hook. We might as well have fun.

I would love to fish with some of you and I’d planned on being up almost all summer as I retired this May 15th, but Covd-19 (making the trip up) has changed that plan..maybe next summer?

Call me Loony, but I know where some big ones are…maybe,…like 1/2 of the time:-)

Oh, and one more piece of advice: don’t fish off a high profile boat. You’ll catch plenty that way; most pros do it. You get a great view sitting high off the water but guess who can also see you? I’m not talking about your neighbors. Nope; native Americans had it figure out best: stay low, and quiet. Try to match that, and I know, this is bad news for boat sales. Thing is, sometimes I cut my small horse power engine 30 yards out and row in as if cane poling in..what’s the rush, right?

Paul Daugherty has been my fishing’ buddy for like ever.

Paul taught me Mud Lake.

The key is low to the water for the biggest fish. What do you want? Plenty of fish, or the biggest fish? Think about that.

cheers

Franque23 loves Lake Bonaparte.


It goes without saying (:-0), back in the day of little to no sensitivities for another’s suffering, that we used a plethora of name calling to keep our gang intact.

Children Playing on 400 Block of Cypress | Orange, CA

Welcome to the mid 1950’s to early 1960’s!

Name calling was an art form; a way to identify those who were our true friends or sometimes, dire enemies—inflection made all the difference in the meaning.

child psychology Archives | JSTOR Daily

The times have changed.

From 60 years ago: The hula hoop comes to Canada | CBC Archives

I’m thinkin’ the Era of ‘Rank-out’ sessions was a short lived one. We’d sit around thinking of names to call one another just for kicks as we waited for the ice cream man to come. In practice, you could never wait to utter a rank out when the opportunity presented itself; they had to slip effortlessly from your tongue to be effective and accepted as a fact-of-the-moment.

1105 Best Vintage Childhood Photos in Black and White, Sepia ...

Blind as a Bat.  (This could mean you strike out a lot or that you missed seeing something I saw no matter how infinitesimal that might be .)

Astonishing black and white photos capture desolate Chelsea more ...

But the sayings, no matter how inappropriate by today’s standards, were truly used on a daily basis—honest Injun. 🙂

Cheers, and have a laugh on the generation who knew a new pair of Keds was the fastest thing around. (Keds is an American brand of canvas  sneakers with rubber soles. Founded in 1916, the company is owned by Wolverine World Trade.)

Now for our daily 1950’s lingo:

up your nose with a rubber hose ( I’m not gonna fight but say this instead.)

your mother wears combat boots (Rank-out back with no special meaning)

fart-brain; fart-head; fart-face. (You’re farting and we know it or you’re as dumb as a brick.)

Rat-face. (You told someone something that was to be kept secret)

stink-o. (Maybe, that wasn’t fair?)

retard… yeah, we just said it and sometimes called our best friends this. (You said something dumb or thought it)

potty-mouth (Whew, you shouldn’t say that or your mom will put soap in your mouth.)

Listen up, big Shot. (You’re not so tall…)

shrimp-boat (You really are shorter than me.)

dirt-bag. (You cheated in a game and you know it.)

slow-poke (Slower than me.)

Lard-o. (There is one inch of fat on you no one can see.)

Pizza face (Acne)

numb-skull. (You just said something really stupid.)

Hey gimpy. (Another twisted ankle.)

Also, all the ‘you’re so ugly…..’ ones :

your mama’s face could sink a battleship—(How to spend hours thinking up phrases like–Shut up and swim…)

pie-face. (Someone has a round face.)

zip-brain. ( Not the brightest candle.)

zit-face. (Oh my God! We’re all getting pimples!)

butter-fingers. (Dropped ice cream is the worst.)

dork. ( Shirt’s on backwards)

dork-pork. (Shirt on backwards, again)

lame. (Really? He won?)

doofus. ( Someone who messes up more than once.)

Block-head. (So thick in the head there’s no sense explaining it.)

 

45 Best Playing Marbles Photos and Prints images | Marble games ...

I left hundred’s out. If you remember any worth the mention please add as a comment.

 

Franque23

 

 

 

 


Why the hell do we Americans have to put up with a lying President? I’ve never heard much of our President lying in public, not ever, not since 1960 when I became somewhat interested in who the President was. Perhaps, the Bush Jr campaign to invade Iraq due to “‘Weapons of mass destruction”(which did not exist) is the only other time I can remember the news and some people thinking the president was lying.

I can tell you first hand: it used to be the President of America was thought of as someone you could trust and look up to.  Is this the reversal trump was talking about when he pushed Americans to drain the swamp for change? Now, our president lies so much in so-called ‘News briefings” that he resembles a fake orange tanned clown full of bad jokes.

Who is the Donald Trump of the European Union? - Quora

Don’t you just love his tan lies…err, lines.

Did the White House Delete an Unflattering 'Orange Face' Photo of ...

Oh please, don’t defend your support for this man. It has even been suggested that this president can’t tell the truth, that he has a psychological disorder that causes him to lie. Remember: during the  Impeachment process it was mentioned that trump wasn’t going to testify to Robert Mueller because some GOP ranking members feared trump would lie under oath.(It’s reported trump may have lied over 16,000 times to the American public since taking office…)*

Why the Media Can't Tell the Truth About Donald Trump's Lies

It takes a  while to read one report in today’s news because it’s so lengthy in its discovery of the lies trump said just yesterday…Yikes…! In the beginning of trump’s presidency, news reporters never called him a liar but, rather, that he had been inaccurate, perhaps wrong, misled or even off the mark. Now? Reporters just note the president is lying and move on because his lying is ‘old hat’ and there seems to be no end to his litany of lies.

Today’s true report—

https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/06/politics/fact-check-trump-coronavirus-briefing-april-6/index.html

From this report…”

“The other administration, (this is trump referring to President Obama’s administration), they didn’t even know — it was like they didn’t even know it (H1N1) was here,” he(trump) said.

Facts First: It’s not true that the Obama administration did not notice H1N1 or take significant action to fight the pandemic.

On April 26, 2009, less than two weeks after the first US cases of H1N1 were confirmed, the Obama administration declared a public health emergency. Two days later, the Obama administration made an initial $1.5 billion funding request to Congress. (Congress ultimately allocated $7.7 billion.) On that same day, the Food and Drug Administration approved the CDC’s test; the CDC began distributing the tests domestically and internationally on May 1, 2009.”

Listen!

I’ve two major questions here: 1) Why the heck is trump still talking about President Obama and almost four years ago now? And, 2) I have to laugh when trump claims he inherited a mess in terms of medical supplies. You see, Trump has been president since 2016 and If his claims are true (they’re not) about the state of our medical supplies, why didn’t he do anything ABOUT IT!!! Gee… he blames and points fingers at the 2015 administration.. how odd after being president over three years….whoops, I guess trump didn’t think about that as he has been standing up crying foul about the medical supplies in our country that he’s been in charge of for three years… duh….trump loves to call people out as nasty, point fingers and rant and yell, and that’s fine if that’s what he and his followers like to hear and do, but he should stand in front of a mirror when he does it.

politics donald trump is an idiot Memes & GIFs - Imgflip

Trump has special mirrors…

Trump's Mirror Exactly | Mirror Meme on ME.ME

trump is a pawn in Putin’s pocket but thinks he’s King….

But, now that trump mentions it, why did it take him so long to respond to the threat corona-virus presented to America? There’s an outside chance trump had 1.2** million dollars worth of reason and others to claim the virus was a hoax made up by the Democrats as he delayed taking any action to prepare for the worst.

Why did trump call the virus a hoax and then go golfing many times? He did nothing about our medical stock pile needs or our need for distribution of medical supplies when he should have. Is trump JUST a fool who is to blame for our government not preparing for this virus? Well, maybe not. While trump called the corona-virus a hoax, his CEO cronies had time to resign as CEO’s and sell their stocks that would be severely affected by the virus… huh? Yes. There’s a long list of CEO’s who resigned their position around the two week window trump allowed to stay open as he stalled America’s response to the corona-virus and declared the virus a hoax. Why? You see, by law CEO’s can not sell the shares they hold in the company they work for but they can once they’ve resigned.

Bingo; ding, ding, ding…

Here’s a brief list of all the CEO’s of major companies that resigned as CEO during trumps ‘stalling window’ so they could unload their shares of stock for real cash while trump told American’s the virus was a hoax.

Microsoft founder Bill Gates’ decision, announced March 13, 2020, to step down from the company’s board

The CEO’s of :

Hulu

Disney

IBM

LinkedIn

Salesforce/Vlocity

MGM

Mastercard

Tinder, OkCupid, Hinge (Match Group)

Luca de Meo, who stepped down as CEO of Seat, part of Volkswagen group, on January 7, 2020

Fernando Mercé, who stepped down as CEO of Nestle Waters North America (claimed ‘personal reasons)

Jason Droege, who was heading UberEats within Uber (though not technically classified as ‘CEO’ of Uber)

This list is much longer and, unfortunately, you can add the names of many politicians in Washington who also frantically sold their stocks with insider information about the coming virus while trump called the coronavirus a Democratic Hoax. (This part of the corrupt story is too long to get into here—you just have to google it.)

Well, trump may have drained the swamp but what he added back into it ain’t nothin’ like ‘Honest Abe!’ Trump is a mess; his administration is a mess; his mind is a mess; his history of bankruptcies is a mess; his attitude towards women is a mess; and his regard for the lives of anyone but himself and, maybe, his family is a mess. Someone should have put soap in that boy’s mouth long ago. Actually, I think he should gargle it.

Chicken-Fried News: Slur talker | Commentary | Oklahoma City ...

Just yuck on trump.

Franque23

*google the question to read various news agencies figures on how many times trump has lied while in office…

 

**Critics also pointed out Novartis, which manufactures a generic version of the drug (trump is recommending), previously paid Trump’s then-personal lawyer Michael Cohen $1.2 million for consulting on healthcare policy back in 2018. Trump owes them big time, so he tries to slough off their product on dying Americans.

 


It will be ten years back this summer to be precise…( Please enjoy the linked video with music below)

This is a Franquemont-Morgan reunion our families have held it seems forever. Basically, you need to understand the Franquemont’s are true royalty in our hearts and minds and the Morgan black spot side of our genes are the worst kind of horns-wagglin’ pirates. I tried that year to do a story hour to appease the pirates,  as shown through out this clip below, but none of that worked as attested by one of ours being snatched and tied to a chair for like days–you’ll see that too.

As always, it all happens at Lake Bonaparte, and this 2010 reunion gathered 58 of the good Franquemonts and the bad whatevers who think they are pirates.  Oddly, no one drinks at these reunions that I’ve noticed. Really!* You’ll see us innocently roping off of Round Island—a feat no longer possible with the development there—only to be chased down by the cops who escorted us across the lake for the want of one life jacket cause 17 wasn’t enough. You’ll see some brave the rapids in the Eastern Adirondacks… fires at night and some very bad singing! It’s all here! The hummingbird steals the show highlighted by the children who know we’re nuts.

Sunsets, swimming and the massively Franquemont Franquemonts win, win, winning!

On a special note, the two groups like the yin-yang have formed as one under the name: MorgaMONTS.  IN all, 2010 reunion was a calm year: very few got thrown in the lake that much each day, I don’t remember a single short sheet bed set but the beer theft was rampant. I still have warrants issued on this… It’s important to note that almost every single adult I took out fishing that year caught a large bass or northern worth mention..this could mean on an every four year bumper fishing cycle that 2020 may be tough fishing. We’ll find out this year at our 2020 reunion!

To be sure, the Lake was wet, the night fires hot** and the stars above brilliant—like my Franquemont story hour:-) The lake is so much fun; family reunions like ours happen around the shore each summer. 

Imagine…

enjoy the show…..https://www.facebook.com/lachlan.franquemont/videos/t.1384221843/425061848537/?type=2&video_source=user_video_tab

Franque23

 

  • Water, that is.
  • ** I honestly believe no one fell in a fire this reunion…
  • What a year this was!!!
  • Last year was an off year, no reunion…Shadow and I chilled out with my wife Dale and Grandchildren
  • Older times lead to new and none will be forgotten

  • taken at the Muse lodge.
  • from our dock

(Click the pic for a larger view)

My Mom and Dad visited Lake Bonaparte often before and after I was born. Luckily, they got to spend about 30 summers at the lake after their employment days. Talk about memories!?!? I wonder which ones mom recalled most of all during her last summer on Bonaparte?

You know they had fun! (With our next door neighbors, the Sherman’s.)

My Dad trained for WW II at Fort drum and rested many days long after sitting across the lake from that training Camp’s location. He loved to see the planes fly over.

This is an old map of Bonaparte…(our camp built in 1970 isn’t listed.)

There are so many beautiful days at Bonaparte.

(Picture taken from our overlook of Porter’s Bay)

And cool summer nights to enjoy with family and friends.

(In the Muse Lodge porch camp)

Or stay warm by a fire…

We love our fireplace—overhead fans above the flames circulate the warm air.

Lake Bonaparte has a knack for getting cold. The one span of three days I visited during mid January the night temperatures hit 40 below twice and then warmed up to 30 below.

Even while casting images in a glass window while overlooking Nagasaki, Japan, the memory of  daytime snows falling on our daughter in Natural Bridge, New York, stayed with me.

And speaking of fires by the lake on those skinny dippin’ nights—what was I thinking!?!?! I’ve looked at this ol’ timey picture by Priests for years and years,

AND, mom snagged this Northern right in our bay! Like how many teeth of a good reason is this not to skinny dip?

Forgive me  if you know, but I feel we all should know Cody got bit on the leg in front of the Sherman Boat house in Porter’s bay (broad daylight) by a bass so large he had to go to the hospital! Just maybe, it was this fish I caught about 15 years later?

Fishin’ at the lake. Love it!

Perhaps many don’t know my brother Buz, (Ed Franquemont) helped build the first house on Round Island? He owned Bare Bones, a building outfit.

Here’s the team that built that house….!

My brother, Ed. (This shot taken elsewhere)

However, this shot below is on location on Birch Island where my ex-brother-in-law, Paul Doherty, lived with Meta for 30 plus years. My niece’s husband, Craig Carlock, was in charge of nibbling down trees to clear for pathways on that Island long ago and everyone should know. We still call him ‘Beaver Man,’ though he also does the best drankin’ loon call you’ve ever heard.

This is Craig watching our dog, Shadow, clear 22 feet off our dock going for a ball….and we’ve built that dock again since.

Have you noticed, lake people wave back?

It’s all too much fun! There’s always some to do or think thing about…

Beware of Pirates…..at the lake! Them Morgan clan folk.

I’m thinkin’ even our dog Shadow is looking for fish!

Impossible not to love.

While at the Lake, my sister, Sharon Franquemot, with a book published in nine languages, You Already Know What To Do, remains humble with me about our family’s  Kingly Heritage.

(really….our ancestor’s home is below. Karl Eugen ruled as Duke over most of Germany and Southern France in 1750)

So, the thing about visiting this one of five castles Karl Eugen had… sure it’s large but,….it was hard to find the bathroom.

(Karl Eugen’s largest home in Ludwigsburg, Germany)*

Anyway, I take my love for Lake Bonaparte back home to where I work in Florida and share it on bulletins boards at the Headquarter’s branch of the Alachua County Library district….

What a place to know, right? Lake Bonaparte:

Random shot of another bulletin board and one of Dan Franquemont…at the lake. (Muse Lodge)

So much—

Bye for now.

Franque23 loves Lake Bonaparte—The place and people we never forget.

*https://www.google.com/search?q=ludwigsburg+germany&oq=Ludwigsburg+germany&aqs=chrome.0.0l8.5814j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

 

 

 


(A Morgan-Franquemont reunion about 1951) Click the pic for a larger view.

Maybe I thought my sister might drop me—why else would I be crying?—pretty sure that’s my best diaper.

Remember being young for just a minute. There’s no hassle waiting to destroy the next minute, no bus, train, plane to catch or deadline to meet. No, you’re just young. Your skin is soft without a blemish and your hair shines like  grass after a brief rain.  You’ve learned to comb your hair but your not exactly sure why you do it. There’s no need to worry and everything feels right once your parents are home; the fire place sets itself and your dog is always fed. T.V. goes on past bedtime but you’ve seen everything you wanted to see and the day has come and gone like any other. Dreams come and go like the wind without cause or problem or forecast direction.

Everything just is. Do you remember now? Shoes or belts seemed useless unless you were playing dress-up.

(Our Son-in-Law running after his son.)

The world is an empty beach to run with dad close behind.

The sky is endless and full of mysterious clouds to watch as they drift by.

(My cousin’s son, Ross Franquemont, takes a selfie as he flies by the Northern lights in his U-2 plane.)

Remember the first time you stared at the clear night sky and realized there were more and more stars to see up above as your eyes adjusted to the blackness. Remember the morning dew on your bare feet. This is about the time you discovered ,’brain-freeze.’

There was so much to take in and share with your cousins and friends.

A la speed-o suit; that’s me.(Morgan dock at Lake Bonaparte-about 1956) ( AND… the person who edits this glob weekly* asked a good question: why am I the only one wearing a bathing suit? The dock is clearly wet?!?! Hmmmm)

Days come as easily as picking up a pencil. The scribbling on the paper wears a smile and it seems your masterpiece is, in fact, a heroic depiction of something meaningful to older folks—it’s some miraculous sketch of objects you’ve yet to see or a panorama of places everyone hopes to go. It’s good to be loved. Daylight loves you; nighttime is a blanket. The rain sounds loud upon the window pane and snow dances in street lights with winds that come from the moon you can’t see.  The pets always sleep on your bed.

Everyday is safe. Every night is cozy. You get along with other  kids, even with those who seem so different!

Being young harbors within it a certain kind of peaceful hope.

(View of Lake Bonaparte from our ‘half-way’ dock.)

Without notice, you assume the older folks will always be here.

Life seems a garden of acceptance.

You can wear any hat you want when you’re young!

(And on Youth Services hat day because we could.)

Routines begin to form. If it rains, you stay inside. If it is sunny you go out. Parents rush off in the morning and come back later after your nap but you’re never really alone, not that you’ve noticed or ever thought about. Tooth brushing is a daily important thing, not the best, but you watch as globs of toothpaste slide out of your mouth onto your cheeks around your out-stretched smile in the mirror and it tastes sweet. Tooth paste types change from being white, then striped, sometimes dotted or with a hidden line of stuff surrounded by white. You just do it.

You think broccoli may kill you but not if you eat just a bit. Vegetables are stupid but they’re the gateway to dessert.

I once thought food first filled my feet, legs, then my middle section, then my arms and finally my head: that’s when I was full. I made sure to save room in my head for dessert.  People talked over dinner but mostly we all came to eat. Someone would say something funny and we’d laugh but always, without fail, my dog’s head was near my lap, soft, warm, nudging my legs occasionally for that bit of something I didn’t care to eat or wanted to slip him anyway.

I hadn’t a care when I was young. Music filled the air and dancing had no steps, just movement.

Of course, I learned later in life that my life was not a universal experience. No, while I was in college there were children in Vietnam who awoke in the night to run out of their homes in fear Napalm bombs would hit their homes and burn them alive as it had some of their friends the night before. And other children weren’t lucky enough to live at all but died without ever knowing what a refrigerator was. Somehow, learning the truthful horror about some life on earth during my twenties put much of my childhood experience in a time-capsule that I cemented in a corner stone of myself.  My memories were too good sometimes to be shown in the face of another’s reality.

I’d been given so much and never knew. I’d been raised in the midst of modest but successful homes full of choices, flavors, designs, music,  friends and surrounded by mowed yards and shoveled driveways all owned by smiling people.

If you’re life was like mine, it’s okay. It’s okay that we may have been born some of the luckiest people on earth. Thing is, now it’s our time to give thanks. Now, if we haven’t already, it’s time for us to payback life anyway we can.  We have to fight for what we believe is best for this earth and give thanks to those who died for our right to do so. If we have something to teach, we have to do it. I think Thanksgiving has never seen a generation who has more to be thankful for than mine. Now, more than ever before, it’s time for my generation to stand up and speak about what we feel is right.

My generation owes the World a difference.

We can do this. It’s time to be young again, strong, wide-eyed, questioning and full of spirit. Spirits don’t age like our bodies, not really. Look in that mirror as you did as a child and see your face, see your smile and remember who you really are. You’re one who can make a difference.

We all can get along; we have to get along and help each other prosper—this is our task and purpose.

Franque23—Happy Thanksgiving.

*Barbara Mullenix gets all the credit for anything spelled correctly in these globs and none of the blame for all the rest….

 

 

 

 


This isn’t a political coup but a chicken coop. That’s right, so far our GOP representatives who we desperately need to uphold the ideologies of a true conservative party are only interested in scratch—money that is, and what appears to be ‘dirty’ money as well. Money and the power it brings, basted with a heavy handed load of chicken-shit fear is what drives most of our GOP Senators and House members.

How low can you go to be elected to uphold the constitution and turn it into a verbiage of meaningless mosh-pit misdirection’s as though it was used toilet paper from another era? The clucking never stops from our GOP representatives. Lindsey Graham alone has demonstrated how two faced a politician—a politician mind you!—could ever be.

Fact:

Now, Lindsey Graham blows all of Trump’s crimes off as though they are nothing burgers, (his words,) but this wasn’t always the case with Graham when it came to a president committing high crimes and misdemeanors.

How in the world can Lindsey twist out of his skin at night to sleep well and then twist back into it to be the slimy snake of a man he is by day?

Claim: U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham argued in 1999 that a crime wasn’t necessary for presidential impeachment.

Claimed by: Multiple Sources

Fact check by Snopes.com: True

To hear Lindsey Graham’s own words on this subject. https://www.msn.com/en-us/video/t/lindsey-graham-once-said-not-complying-with-congressional-oversight-was-an-impeachable-offense/vp-BBWkoQQ

Now, according to Graham, trump can’t be held accountable for any offense.

And, as astonishing as it might seem, Moscow Mitch McConnell out plays Lindsey Graham when it comes to being a two-bit liar wearing a Russian suit.

There isn’t a prison cell small enough for the two of them. They are both traitors. They spit in the face of our constitution and relish living the lavish lifestyles they reap from their hoodwinked constituents.  Moscow Mitch often responds to questions about why he has held up over one hundred bills from coming to a vote on the Senate floor with: ‘Because I can.’ You see? Moscow Mitch doesn’t even entertain the notion that he is motivated by a sense of duty to America and our constitution. Moscow Mitch and Lindsey-the- slippery are so far down in Russian pockets a dry cleaner couldn’t get them out.

It’s tempting to think the followers of these GOP chicken-shit leaders who tremble at the mere notion of having to endure Trump’s scorn are worse than these non-leaders, but they aren’t. No, voters get tricked, lied to, misled, dissed and crapped upon by elected officials all the time. Thing is, the lying elected officials do know what they’re doing and saying; their corruption is in their mirror every morning for them to see.

Moscow Mitch and a side-kick on a good day.

No one can count on these chickens to hatch anything but money for themselves.

The corruption within this current GOP Senate and House of Representatives makes the Tea Pot Dome scandal look like a tea party. Basically, these GOP representatives who fail to rebuke Trump are akin to whores serving us chicken gumbo: they take trump’s appointments, as well as the appointment of their wives to other positions, and then do whatever he wants in return for position and money.  Trump’s unconstitutional obstruction of justice, his willingness to incite riots or worse in America, his wanton sidestep of the emolument clause and obscene bullying and alienation of America from the world is beyond repugnant.

Talk about a rotten egg—trump has made a killing in causing business and personal bankruptcies.

As ex-GOP Senator, Jeff Flake, said this week*…. “he (Flake) wrote: “Trust me when I say that you can go elsewhere for a job. But you cannot go elsewhere for a soul.” Flake entitled his op-ed, “There’s still time to save your souls.”  This pronouncement should ring a bell in the minds of Christians and pseudo-Christians alike: it’s time for all of us to stop dancin’ with the devil and run to a higher, moral ground.

Googling ,’Trump and ganster,’ brings up 21 million hits.

Chicken-crap politicians need to be plucked from Congress and put in a cell with a cot and pot. Vote these lying chicken-cluckers out of office in 2020. America has lost jobs, lost food production, is selling nuclear secrets to the Saudi’s and is now polluting our drinking water and rivers.  This administration and GOP Congress is not a nothing’ burger, but simply one big splattered chicken-egg of failure and lies.

We don’t deserve this chicken-shit stew Trump has put us in.

Take a leap of faith and vote in 2020 like America depends upon this upcoming election: it does.

Cheers-have a nice day. GOP=chicken gumbo.

Franque23.

*https://www.foxnews.com/media/jeff-flake-republicans-save-soul-trump-impeachment


(Click to enlarge the pic!)

That’s how we watched the TV series back in the day: in black and white. Thing is, we can argue about the color of Jesus all centuries long but The Lone Ranger, the real deal, was a black man named, Bass Reeves.

Reeves is on the left—the real Lone Ranger.

This revelation started when I couldn’t get the theme music of the Lone Ranger TV series, William Tell Overture, out of my head while at work! It took another day of brain churning for me to figure out why. As a kid, I believed in this masked man who sought to right the wrongs in the world. My white hero in his white hat, guns blazing while riding a huge, white horse was sorta like a horse ridin’ Superman. Now, I suspect the music came back to me due to all the troubles we have in our country, and from an internal longing that someone other than Mighty Mouse( come on—he’s not real!) would come save the day!

Anyway, This pestering racket of a theme song lead me to look into the history of the show.

Just wow… I was amazed to find this….

“What Reverend Haskell James Shoeboot, the 98-year-old part-Cherokee Indian, was about to tell Burton(the man researching the Lone Ranger) would persuade Burton he’d stumbled upon one of the greatest stories never told.

Born in 1838, Bass Reeves was a former slave-turned-lawman who served with the US Marshals Service for 32 years at the turn of the 20th century in part of eastern Oklahoma and western Arkansas known as Indian Territory. Though he was illiterate, Reeves became an expert tracker and detective…”*

Reeves as a slave took his owner’s name. Near the end of the war (he fought for the south) Reeves traveled to Oklahoma doing odd jobs and learned several Native American languages.(I suspect this is when he learned to track.) The government appointed 300 marshal’s to tame the west and—Reeves was one of them…

 

Reeves, you guested it, is in the red circle.

“…Federal law dictated that deputy US marshals had to have at least one posseman with them whenever they went out in the field and often, the men who assisted Reeves were native Americans”.*

Soon, it became evident that this Reeves fella could out shoot, out ride and captured criminals better than any lawman in the west. He wore a white hat unlike most other marshals and beneath him galloped a huge white horse.

He gained a swagger as his arrests piled up. How many arrests? It’s written this one man captured over three thousand men who’d gone bad out west. In one day, as the history goes, he arrested thirteen men at one time!

These three thousand criminals all went to Chicago’s prison and it’s there guards learned about Reeves from the inmates. The first radio show about, The Lone Ranger, was produced in Chicago in 1933.

But how did Reeves become so successful?!?! We all have heard about how, Tonto, the Lone Ranger’s sidekick helped him track criminals.  Well, ‘Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!’

This is the only magnificent picture I could find of the real Lone Ranger and Tonto together. Tonto was said to be a Potawatomi Indian – the same tribe that was forced to move to Oklahoma.

Bass Reeves was famous for wearing disguises to help in his investigations and arrests. He dressed as beggars, hobos, farmers, city slickers and lunatics to get his men and it paid off. One night, he walked 28 miles to a homestead where two wanted men were said to be staying. For authenticity’s sake, Bass dressed as a man who’d been robbed at gun point and lost everything. He put three bullet holes in his hat, wore worn out shoes and scuffed up clothing. The mother of the two wanted men answered her door and Reeves quickly got inside with his story and stayed for dinner. Soon, the women’s two sons returned and they all had a time talking. Reeves was asked to stay the night.  He handcuffed the two criminals while they slept and walked them 28 miles back to his camp with their mom yelling and cussing at Reeves all the time. But, why did Reeves go to so much trouble!!! The reward for these two men was Five-Thousand dollars….a huge sum back then, and Reeves left nothing to chance.

This is Reeves with his wife; he spent his money wisely on her attire, don’t you think?

So there was a Lone Ranger and a Tonto…

But they never looked like this. They may, however, had conversations like this IF the nicknames used on the TV show were fact based.

Loosely translated, Tonto might mean, ‘You don’t know much…’ and Kimosabe,… “In Apache, it means “white shirt.” Who knows — maybe Tonto also had to do the Ranger’s laundry and was actually constantly reminding him to avoid grass stains. In Navajo, on the other hand, “kemosabe” translates as “soggy shrub.”**

Of course, TV producers heard the stories and wanted a show. Thing is, Reeves was the wrong color for a TV hero back then. The solution was to introduce him in black face, which they did. The original black mask worn by the first actor portraying, The Lone Ranger, nearly covered his entire face. It was policy at the time for a white man to wear a ‘black face’ or black mask of some kind when portraying a black man on stage.

The whiter The lone Ranger became by legend, they smaller his black mask.

There it is! Bass Reeves was a truly extraordinary hero for law enforcement in the history of the west.  And, oh, one more thing—about those silver bullets the Lone Ranger was said to leave as calling cards. Actually, Bass Reeves left silver dollars. Really! Bass had that much money.

Hi-Ho Silver… Bass made a killing at law enforcement. He died a peaceful death in 1910. I suspect, as a master of disguise, he never cared that no one knew who he was. He got the criminals, the gal and the money—that had to be enough.

This statue honoring Bass Reeves was recently put up in Fort Smith, Arkansas. The statue is bronze, but our ‘white’ hero, the Lone Ranger, was definitely Black.

Franque23 rides away until another day!

*https://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/10131675/Was-the-real-Lone-Ranger-black.html

**http://www.word-detective.com/2011/07/kemosabe/

 


*

A very blue wave.

A couple of thoughts to light up the season.

  1. It’s no secret Republicans took a whippin’ in the 2018 mid-terms. The House of Representatives flipped blue by a large margin and likewise Republicans lost State representatives seats across the country. This was much more than a ,’standard,’ mid-term correction vote. This vote was a cry heard loud and clear by both party’s. Republicans were able to hold Texas, slip by Florida and out-right cheat to win Georgia, but over all, the party took a slogging at the polls.

What appeals to me most is this blue wave came about via standard rich donors as well as grass root donations. The tide is more than turning blue, the presence of foreign donations via secret PACS may be washing away, and gerrymandering will be re-whittled in many states. I’d say new people running for office—so many women—(Right? :-))along with Pelosi’s help kept most races on point: on healthcare concerns, medicare and social security.  But there’s still a lot of fog surrounding these issues and how best to drive them home in 2020.

2) The charge for climate change is well meaning but poorly framed for those hoping to gain a political leg up in 2020. It’s a discussion that can’t be won by scientifically based facts or mouth foaming, delusional thinking. Nope, the world has spun too many times for any of us to prove warming trends that spell disaster are part of natural course within the World’s environmental history or not.

Nope, arguing over climate change is exactly what Trump wants his opponents to do.

If you like Trump, argue climate change.

If you hope Trump falls into an oil slick laden with Red Tide, argue pollution.

In fact, if you want to win in 2020 steer clear of climate change. Instead, ask voters to raise their hands if they want toxic drinking water? Do they want to swim in oil slick oceans? Let’s count the hands. Do people want to bathe in fracking industrial waste or not? Let’s hear ye! These are issues Trump’s policies fail to address, worse, they add to the pollution of our living environment.  The beauty of focusing on pollution instead of harping about climate change is that IF we  get control over pollution we will actually be doing all Mankind can do to stem climate change. No, controlling pollution may not solve climate change, but attacking and ending pollution is the best we can do about it. Point: sidestep climate change in 2020.( Put a small boat in your backyard instead.)

Now, a prayer. I pray for wisdom we haven’t seen when dealing with the marching South Americans. Some politicians are starting to ask why we are sending soldiers when we could have been sending help? Yes, the policies of Trump on this issue are plain wrong. If you see a problem coming there may be another way to solve it other than fighting it.

We need more Zen in our leadership.

America, BTW, is huge and loaded with tons of money and power.  America can and should have mobilized a huge peace force sort of coalition to march on down to our boarder via govt. funded fare to build housing for these people who flee for their lives and march to the U.S. If you’re getting checks from the U.S. for not working, I say you’re on the planes. We’re going to use as many U.S. products as possible to build communities where these people can stay until entirely vetted, politically and health wise.  Bingo American industries of every sort—you just struck it rich by a huge government demand for every commodity you produce! They need food? Bingo, mid-west farmers! Your load of customers just arrived and our tax dollars will buy your food and ship it to where it’s needed.

But where will the money come from to support a Hoover Dam type project to turn an unused place into a living space? It’s called tax dollars—you know the ones our government wastes every day in about every way.

Idea! We could start finding the money needed to house these immigrants by dropping 50% less bombs around the world every day.  If we did stop our morbid need to bomb the world, our government coffers would be raining money instead of death and destruction.

Think about it: imagine. The U.S. actually accepts a large immigrant population wisely, securely, without shooting or jailing a single kid! America shows what must be done to support and help our migrating populations the world over!!! How neat it would be for America to become world leaders, the ones who saved the world once again!

There it is: thoughts and prayers done right, without guns but with brain power, might, will, huge amounts of money and a willing workforce. There it is: a booming economy led by successful life giving policy. There would be wrinkles to iron out, but this should have been our focus, not walls, closed boarders and an army.

The up and coming new lot of Democratic politicians understand that thinking straight is easy to do. Here’s five examples of women who schooled together, stuck together and all won seats in Colorado  state Legislature in 2018.  This article is quite a read; a map to political success and strength.

https://people.com/politics/five-female-friends-state-senate-colorado-won/

Cheers

Franque23….Om

  • Please note…this ocean shot is from that ,’sh*t hole,’ country, Mexico.

Pumpernickel was the most foreign thing around the neighborhood back in my childhood days. A salted Frito was the a vanguard chip and guacamole remained a word hard to pronounce or spell. Now? That long ago time resides on the far side of a poorly mark rut in the road of life.

Certainly, I grew up in a part of America awash in feel good innocence. Then, it was a time of hope for those who lived under the disappearing shadow of World War II. We were the champions of the free world; the winners.

Grandpa was proud of his four boys who all fought in WW II (Dad is second from left.)

Flash: think no computers, no cordless phones of any kind, no internet, no chat, no what’s up, no what’s anything but for phones in phone booths or in homes that featured a brand new item: a tube TV  with about 3 to 13 channels. Now, I wonder what we all did all day?

Morality was a given…

Every kid knew to cross their fingers if they were going to lie; every guy knew girls were not only softer than boys, but annoyingly smarter as well. Still, none of us perceived a battle of the sexes or a societal wrong that had to be righted. Heck no, elementary school years were filled with just people—guys I palled around with and girls I was thinking about getting to know.

Things started to change in Junior High. (1960ish). The fall out of line and get hung out to dry clicks appeared. Guys and gals mostly formed into three groups: the hoods, the sport rats and the way smart what’s up with that group.

Now, the hoods were bad people because some of them smoked cigarettes and they often wore black shirts. (Really not kidding, and I could almost add, they chewed gum in school) The sport rats, the group I belonged to, never smoked cigarettes and we wore saddle shoes.

Clearly, these huge differences were cause for great concern and animosity. Oddly this huge division between the Hoods and Sport Rats meant the gals had to decide which group to belong to and those lines once drawn rarely, if ever, changed through High School. I once ,’hit it off,’ with a gal from the hoods in history class and we became fast buddies. But, when I suggested a soda, she told me, terrified, “Oh no, I could never do that. My group would go nuts. Plus, you don’t know what I do.” So, I realized she smoked cigarettes….sad.

It was an innocent time compared to the likes of today.

Of course, I was young, free to smell the dandelions as I ran across our neighbors’ yard. I was free to imagine that near about everything America stood for and did was good and right. I was free of a bombardment of contraptions that now give us real-time access to things that are happening beyond our sight!

Please, if you are semi-young, like under 40, Imagine this: there was no news until the six o’clock T.V. broadcast; there was no minute-by-minute news of your friends, no daily breaking political sirens. Even the stock market could rally or crash without a peep until evening. Every thing, every day, was on hold until evening. People went to work without worry or care about daily events until nighttime, until they’d gone home and had a cocktail, a smoke or rest.

In many ways, the multitasking, tied to your smart phone generation is cursed with too much information.

Call me old fashion? Maybe try hiking or camping and leaving, God forbid, your smart phone at home. There’s a world waiting for you to discover, one I grew up in, a world of be here now without interruption from things you can’t change anyway.  There’s a world of freedom waiting for you but for one thing: you can’t put that smart phone down.

If the world today were to sculpt a representative statue of Mankind it wouldn’t be, The Thinker.

No, it would be a person looking down at their smart phone or taking a, ‘Selfie.’

The interactions that sooo many studies show are healthy for us—the eye contact, the smiles, the greetings—are now lost to bent heads looking at smart phones…

No, I’m not old fashion: I’m right. Put your phone down for at least one day per week and see how many eyes look your way. The worlds’ presence will once again be yours to see, and it is amazing.

Franque23 dares you to do it…

Simply amazing.

 

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

May 2020
M T W T F S S
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Categories