Facebook “thoughts”

My mother was a very wise person, although I have to say I rarely recall her reading a book. She had a saying that people of my era will recognize. The two dominant means of spreading propaganda in my youth and well into adulthood were Time and Life Magazines. As my mother said, probably repeating her own mother’s words, “Time is for people who can’t think, Life is for people who can’t read.”

I have two major means of interacting with other people: This blog, and Facebook. Our friend and writer Steve Kelly recently quit Facebook, and I admire that. I cannot make myself do it. I am connected to my cousins, a few real friends, and some former classmates. I don’t want to lose ties with them.

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Oops!

I meant for the trash bin story below to be about a number of topics, but got carried away on Henry Standing Bear. One other topic I wanted to let our commenters tear apart was New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft getting caught up in a prostitution and human trafficking scandal. His only offense is using the services of a prostitute, a misdemenaor. (That’s yet another topic … men use prostitutes because they want sex without all of the accompanying nonsense like long-term commitment and profession of eternal love. In my perfect world, it would be legal.) Read about Mr. Kraft here.

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Trash bin Monday: Henry Standing Bear, casino operator

 

Consider this post my trash bin, things that I have wanted to write about, but which just don’t pan out well.

The above video is about the character “Henry Standing Bear,” Walt Longmire’s lifelong best friend in the Longmire series. He is played (very convincingly) by Lou Diamond Phillips. I thoroughly enjoyed his work throughout the series’ six seasons.

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Commenters – Buddy Lives! Lighten up!

For reasons I do not understand, a post that I wrote in May of 2016 is getting lots of hits and comments, most of which are unprintable. We have 1,032 followers on this blog, not by any means a large number. It is, however, enough that attention has been drawn to the Weird Scenes in Clear Lake post where I insinuate, and then state outright in a footnote, that Buddy Holly’s 2/3/1959 death was faked, long with Richie Valens and “The Big Bopper.”

I am wondering, given the low quality of most of the comments that have come in, if this is the the geratric set, aging fans of the former idol. The writing is childish and the anger at me deep and passionate. Here’s an example from this morning:

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Time marches forward

I have been reading, only slowly and without much absorption, about the electric universe. I don’t plunge into such projects expecting immediate comprehension. The subject matter is complex, and only slowly does any of it begin to penetrate the thick hide of the accountant.

Still, it is a joy to read very difficult material, even if most of it is bouncing off that hard outer surface. (As the late Tom Magliozzi of Car Talk fame said, he was a member of Densa, not Mensa.)

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This wackadoo planet

We have just concluded a two-week trip to Baja, California, watching whales and kayaking. It’s different and beautiful down there except for the litter all about, the run down buildings and impoverished population.

Our guides were educated men and women – this is common. One is a marine biologist. What the hell is he doing helping privileged Americans and Canadians push kayaks cross the Sea of Cortez? It is a but choice he made. Why? Because all the other choices were worse. That makes me sad. He wants to apply his learning but cannot break through. So he lives in Lareto and in winter makes his living erecting tents and paddling his kayak at a far slower rate than he is capable of …

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