Friday, January 23, 2015

No Constitutional Right to Smoke

This is what happens in an actual Democracy...which we are increasingly becoming...your daily activities are subject to the wants and desires of people named LaToya.

                                             LaToya Bans Smoking in New Orleans

According to this new Edict of the People, there is no Constitutional right to smoke. Far be it from me to question the Constitutional expertise of LaToya but, it's my understanding that the Constitution is not a set of permissions granted to subjects...a list of things the State will allow you to do. Instead, again with all due respect to LafuckingToya, it is a list of powers that the citizenry refuses to grant the State. It's a collection of Negative Rights...this is what the State cannot do.

This is the understanding of the Constitution that another community organizer, Barack Hussein Obama, finds so troubling. According to Barack, that's the great flaw of the's a collection of negative rights that says a lot about what the government can't do and nothing about what the State should do for people. In other words, the flaw of the U.S. Constitution, as Barack sees it, is its essence. This point, even as a bone of contention is, obviously and completely, lost on....dear God...LaToya.

Of course, I'm the fool...who cares about negative rights and the crucial role they play in protecting Liberty (Liberty? HA!)...who cares about the, small c, constitutional legitimacy of law. To the extent that legitimacy matters...desire is sufficient. Majority rules...authority is found in numbers.

That's how we get to the point where you do not have a right to allow smoking on your own property...but, you do have the right to seize the property of others so you can go to Junior College. The precious people, that seething mass of avarice and stupidity, want something and the vapid politicians are happy to provide it...fully justified because they are doing the bidding of that most sacred body..."the people." Amazing that we have laws at all...when the instincts of the people are so trustworthy and virtuous.

My concerns here are not only esoteric but, increasingly, nonsensical. So, let's come down out of the clouds...get down on the ground and have a closer look at the city for whose benefit this decree has been issued. New Orleans is a city...a real object. So comforting that we can measure it, touch it....smell it.

If you've never been to New Orleans and would like to experience can do so in your own home. First, have a bloody piss in a carton of milk and leave it open to sour on the counter. Once the milk is ripe...two, empty your trashcan on the living room floor. Three, get blind drunk and pass out in the trash. Four, have your significant other...doesn't matter if it's a wife, girlfriend, husband, boyfriend or, even better, a stranger from the park...dress in an edible bikini and thigh high go-go boots. They should stand over you while barking for a strip club or hooking. Five, for a truly authentic experience, have some friends come by to vomit on you and urinate in the corner.

Whatever you do, however far you get carried away, for God's sake, do not let anybody fire up a square. We're not trying to get anybody killed here.

We've been down this road before....

No Smoking at Old Absinthe House

we've gotten so far down now that lighting up anywhere along it will get you a 100 dollar fine.
It should be fun watching the enforcement...expensive but, fun. Food and beverage people smoke...even in Quarter bars where it's already banned you can watch them early in the morning stumbling out into the daylight...cigarettes dangling from their squinting faces.

Never mind the droves of tourists who may or may not be aware of the Decree. A person standing on a sidewalk smoking is exactly the kind of mushy target that cops love. Good times...Good times...or Bon Temps I reckon.

I'll close with a question. Let's set aside the issue of legitimacy for such Decrees. What kind of people ban smoking in bars, jukes, taverns...we're talking about a bar...a BAR. What concept of a juke and the purpose it serves must those people have? I know many don't like to be around smoke...but that's hardly the issue. That market can be served without a total ban. What kind of human being would support a ban on smoking cigarettes in a juke...a honkey tonk? It's a get dunk, dance, fight and smoke cigarettes.

It's not really a place that figures into a program for adding a few years to your stank carcass.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Twinkle, Twinkle...Blah, Blah, Blah...EE. TEE. CEE.

Many of you have expressed your anxiousness to hear what else happened in Birmingham...and it makes me happy to know that y'all read. We will get to it, but first...
There stands Jackson like a Stonewall

Every year around this time, for reasons known only to him, God abandons us and the atmosphere takes on a strange quality. I don't know how to describe it's sharp and penetrating...kinda like when you reach for something in the ice box. The sky goes dirty grey. It goes on a month. Turrible.

This week was particularly bad. It got down to 14 degrees (-10c)...low enough to freeze water in pipes and blow the pressure valve on your hot water heater. I can't express how much I hate winter...hate the cold...hate coats, jackets, jumpers, sweat I despise it busting in on my room in the garage.

Fortunately the previous owners left a big box of tiles under the heater...there were these fabulous high pitched accents to the crashing thud of dry wall.

So, that was fun.

Obviously it was very upsetting for The Boy and Herschel-Walker.

Speaking of upsetting...and I'm loath to even bring it up, but none of your Christmas presents to me have shown up. I know they're coming...I'm not brining this up to shame anybody. It's just I know y'all are anxious to hear what I think. Please know that I'm already appreciative but, I'm a little ashamed to say, it was with increasing anxiety that I've rushed to the mailbox every day the last few weeks...only to be disappointed. I know they're coming...I'm not silence has not meant a lack of appreciation...they just haven't shown up yet.

While I'm complaining...that crap in France. It wasn't actually a distraction from blogging but, I'm so sick of these dickheads.

I've only gotten a glimpse of this nonsense once. It was at Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park. There was an American evangelist and a black fella that I think was British. As far as I can recall, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Yeah...somebody was going to hell but I don't remember it being anti-Muslim or anything. Just the usual turn-so-you-don't-burn stuff.

Whatever it was...was too much for the swarthy fella next to me. I could see him gritting his teeth and sorta pacing from the waste up...until he couldn't take it anymore...

"What do you expect from an American and nigger!"

There was some verbal rustling at intelligible boos or shut ups...but that was the audible gist. This poor American girl next to me, when he said nigger, she caught a case of the vapors. I thought she was gonna pass out.

Then he was completely incensed. He started that pacing thing again and then snapped. He lunged for the black dude...burst right through the crowd in a rage but the crowd was having non of it. He was literally thrown back on to a walkway and escorted out of the park by a few biguns.

He just couldn't tolerate hearing what he didn't want to hear. Dick.

The final distraction came this weekend when me and the Big Man got in to a discussion about the punk rock...which led to me spending two days downloading Minutemen songs instead of writing.

Throw you lighters up for D.

Alright...back to our regularly scheduled reading and writing then.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Rain, Vomit...Pancakes and Rain. Part 1

Birmingham, Alabama...January 2nd, 2015

Dreary going out and violent coming back.

Follow the red patches down from Tuscaloosa to the bottom of the and the Big Man are between Livingston and a gas station. In the dark.

Just as we passed Eutaw the bottom fell out...dropped liked an atom bomb. I had about a foot of visibility...and 20 miles to the next exit. I followed the red tail lights of the car in front of us as closely as I dared. You just don't know how people are going to react when they go blind...they will just stop...even on the interstate...or they'll pull off on the shoulder and suddenly you're not on the road anymore...with no where to go.  You wait for the car behind you, doing the same thing, to get up in your trunk.

I have spent my life on the interstates and highways of The South and the US. If I asked an actuary he would probably tell me I should be nervous every time I get behind the wheel at this point...but, it's one of the most comfortable places I can think of. Not Saturday night...not since I ignorantly climbed up on the Red Mountain Pass a few years ago have my nerves been that racked in a car. I had the Big Man on board...of course, he was passed out in the back.

Thank God...we fishtailed and slid our way to the next exit and a Chevron station.* It was a gathering of shell shocked drivers...soaked and bug-eyed. There were flash flood warnings, tornado warnings** was raining sideways, screaming through under the awning. The Big man just wanted a sandwich...a ham and cheese sandwich from the in store Subway.

"You want any mayonnaise or mustard?"

"No sir...just ham and cheese...and bread of course."

We weren't gettin' back on the road anyway...and I was just glad he was eating (more on that later). I just need a cup of coffee...but they didn't have any coffee cups...let that sink coffee cups at a gas station. Then the lights went out!

"E'erybody stay where you at...Lock the doh," the girl barked from behind the counter.

Her first instincts were protect the store's property and shield herself from any responsibility for it's loss. Then the lights flickered back on...and her better instincts kicked in. Standing elevated, like in a pulpit, looking down above the crowd gathered at the door...

"Man fu****** this...I gotsta go!"

"Daddy can I eat my sandwich in the car?"

As we went through the unlocked door, I heard her...

"No. No. You do not need to talk ugly to me."

Anyway that's what happens when the lights go out at the curb store. This is what happens when you steal...
Other than some spicy fried chicken from Popeye's...that was the trip back. The trip out began with a bag of candy corn. We'll get to all that...

 *Just so you know adamparsons...we filled up for 1.89 a gallon. Adamparsons has a fascination with our gas prices...he tracks 'em like a trainspotter.
*Tornado watch means the conditions are right for a tornado...tornado Warning means one has touched down in the area.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Alabamy Bound

Me and The Boy are Alabama bound but...we are not going to fetch our woman. She will be here at the house enjoying a few days without her mens. That's what she claims anyhow...we know better.

What woman really wants time to herself?

So while she's being miserable without and The Boy and Daddy will be in Birmingham to watch the Gators play East Carolina. Despite another abysmal season the Gators managed to get an invite to a bowl...the glamorous Birmingham Bowl.

Alarms are set for 5am...we will be on the road by six. We'll be flying through Meridian by 7:00. You know Meridian Mississippi....ruthlessly brunt to the ground by the Yankees...home of Jimmy Rodgers.

Then on past Tuscaloosa where we will be stopping to visit Bryant Denny Stadium .  I may have over sold that The Boy asked me about throwing the ball on the actual field.

Birmingham is next...and it's Art Museum which I can tell he's underestimating. Once he gets a look at a full suit of Samurai armor...we'll be fine. Besides the next stop is Full Moon, even if he doesn't dig Ida Kolmeyer...

I know he'll dig the ribs.*

Just because...Knebworth**

* I know you rabbits don't care but trust me on this one....

**Skynyrd, of course, is not from Alabama but from the Jacksonville Fl. area...where my brother lives...where my Moma grew up...Gator territory.