The Trip of a Lifetime

Yes kids, it's that time of year again. Time for the Dixon Family Walkabout.

And lemme tell you- the level of fear in the boys' eyes as I fanned the 25 pages of Mapquest routes and 50 pages of printed out info concerning our hotel reservations, park information and other assorted places we're going to stop has never before been seen.

I believe I may have outdone myself.

And that's saying a lot.

I came to my roadtrip-planning mania genetically, through my mom. I didn't get her perky little nose with freckles sprinkled across it, but I did get this.

As kids, we took road trips to wherever the NPPA's convention was being held- National Press Photographers' Association, my dad was on their board for a time. As a board member's family, we got breaks and freebies once we got there as far as hotel and whatnot, but we just had to get there. Press photographers don't make a whole lot of money.

So we'd roadtrip. We roadtripped to Pittsburgh and we roadtripped to Florida. We trained to LA, losing a/c just as we got to Arizona on our way back. We took a cooler of food and ate lunches at rest-stops and roadside parks. We traveled on the dust of a shoestring budget, but we went EVERYWHERE.

My first husband didn't understand this. His family was much more well-off than mine, but they went to the same cabin on the same lake the same week of every summer. He declined to do the Yearly Road Trip.

We don't speak of my second husband.

Ward has always been into road-tripping. At 16, his parents let him drive, alone, to Cape Canaveral to see the liftoff of the first manned spaceship. From Texas.

At 19, he took his baby brother (aged 13) to Yellowstone.

His first wife was not into road-tripping.

We're a match made in Heaven, ya'll.

We've been all over, several times. Alec has been road-tripping since before birth. After one trip to Wisconsin we found out when we got home that we'd had a stowaway. He's got 34 states on his list of 'States Visited', and this year, we're fixin' to add another 8, leaving only Alaska, Hawaii, the far Northest tiny states, Florida and Michigan.

You know- those states that aren't really 'on the way' to anywhere.

We all three of us have the desire to 'go', even though I'm mightily terrified of flying and I know that I'm going to have to get over that soon- there are too many places we want to see that require it...we're running out of contiguous states.

People ask me, "So where are you going?" and I say, "Everywhere".

They sigh and try again. "What is your destination?" I answer, "We don't have a destination- we have a turn-around point."

Because that's the great thing about driving. You can see a ton of stuff on the way there and home. A ton.

Check out www.roadsideamerica.com for just how much there is to see. I've found things within 20 miles of our house I never knew existed. I figure out where 'lunchtime' will be on our route and key in that city's name. It's awesome. We've lunched at the World's Largest Ball of Twine (Cawker City KS- and Alec got to add to it), the Sock Monkey Museum (just west of Chicago) and in front of Santa Anna's leg (Springfield IL).

Because that's the sort of fabric America is made of, ya'll.

A few years ago I figured out that for LESS than the cost of a Days Inn or Econolodge, there are places to stay the night that add to the trip instead of merely being a place to crash and shower. Look up hotels in your desired area and then scroll way, way, way down past the chain hotels and motels and you'll find the independent mom and pop lodgings- there's even a website for that- www.momandpopmotels.com . I generally check the reviews at Travelocity to make sure they're not 'rent by the hour', but so far we've been nothing but thrilled with the places we've stayed.

We've stayed in a yurt in Arkansas, a llama farm in Wisconsin, and this year we'll be staying at 2 pheasant hunting lodges...it's off-season. Although we had to really think twice about what would be better- a Days Inn right on the interstate or a cabin in the middle of the Kansas rolling hill prairie...hmmm...life is chock full of tough choices...

We stay in a lot of historic hotels. They're generally located conveniently and the staff usually consists of people who know the history of the place and love it. We'll be returning to one this year- the Kalispell Grand in Montana. It costs less than the Kalispell Motel 6 and is just a few blocks away from it. Motel 6? Or...this? www.kalispellgrand.com From the Canadian border to New Orleans, so far none of them have let us down.

While most of the time the Travelocity reviews are spot on (and brutally honest) I have to laugh at some of the reviews regarding historic hotels; a lot of them on the National Historic Registrty. 'Everything very out-dated', 'In desperate need of updating', 'Small rooms', 'Shabby'...Apparently some people are unaware of what 'historic' means.

We travel instead of. Instead of going to the movies or going shopping. Instead of paying for haircuts and manicures. Instead of participating in almost any other hobby other than Alec's guitar and art lessons and my going to guinea pig shows. We do without so we can do this, and we have the blessing of having Joe to care for the farm while we're gone and who very generously adds to the travel fund because he knows how important it is.

Even on a shoestring, it ain't cheap. But it's important.

It's important because it gives perspective. Humans get entrenched in their little worlds and come to believe that how it is within their field of vision is how it is everywhere. Oh, sure you see all sorts of stuff on TV and the internet from all over the world but it's not real. It's on the TV or internet like soap operas and 'reality' shows.

You have to Be There.

You have to Be There to get a feel for a place; feel the weather, hear the sounds, smell the smells and eat the food served by the very real people who live there- people who are different from the people at home while being the same as all humans are the same- to feel the connections and differences all at once.

It's important to realize that all the above cannot be achieved by staying in chain motels and eating at chain restaurants and only seeing the 'touristy stuff'. Oh, sure the accents of the clerks will be 'funny' and there will be minor regional differences on menus, but other than that...it's as enriching as just watching it on TV.

Empty brain calories, ya'll.

And time is short. Our family knows that time is short at all times and in the best situations. I'm typing this as Ward gets his yearly 'noes to tose' PET scan, lab work, and chest X-ray to be sure he's still OK, that he's not harboring a stowaway of his own in there...a very unwelcome one.

Even without that spectre, just the normal stuff of living- will I always have the ability to take off a few weeks in a row to do this? Will we have the money to do so? Alec is 14- he may have a summer job starting next year and not WANT to go...

Life is change. For good or bad, life is change and it changes in a literal heartbeat; a fact that's been pounded into us over and over and over again.

So look out, America- the Dixons are hitting the road again next week for over 6,000 miles. Seeing friends along the way, stopping at five National Parks and at least as many obscure attractions, eating out of our cooler or at locally owned places and staying in historical hotels and motels along the way- places that are literally one of a kind in all the history of everywhere.

The Trip of a Lifetime...but we know they all are.

Texas- Red...With Embarrassment

I woke up this morning to the Dallas news station blaring about the 'huge Tea Party victory' here in Texas yesterday.

Of course they also pointed out that Texas was virtually the only state that had a Tea Party victory, so at least the rest of the country seems to be getting over their childish infatuation with The Drunk Uncle of the political spectrum.

Everyone has one of those. When you're a kid, you love Drunk Uncle because he acts just like you...only he's big. When you're a teenager, you are skeptical of all adults, but still sorta dig Drunk Uncle because he makes all the other adults so damn uncomfortable. Once you're grown? If he weren't related to you, he wouldn't be at your dinner table, near your family or on your property.

You know...This guy-

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHphZpCUHko

Ain't no amount of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls gonna make that dinner better. Anyhoo.

Yanno what the newspeople didn't mention this morning?

How disgustingly dismal the voter turn out was. Less than 5% of registered Texas voters showed up to vote.

Yanno why that's not news? Because unless it's a presidential election, less than 5% of Texas voters always show up. That's because for all its snort N blow about Texas being so great, so wonderful, Number One in everything all the time everywhere, Texas ranks dead last in voter turnout. Last. Out of all the states. Last.

See? http://www.sos.state.tx.us/elections/historical/70-92.shtml


So the only people who even cared enough to show up yesterday were those who
a) give a crap about elections and why they're important
b) the Lunatic Fringe.

Now, I need to do some Tex-splaining here. Because groups a and b above are totally different here in Texas than the rest of the world lately...for say the last two decades. That's the amount of time we've been officially insane here, ya'll.

In modern day Texas, group a consists of Tea Party fanatics. While middle of the road conservatives didn't show up yesterday... because remember- unless it's a presidential election, they don't show up- the Tea Party was out in force. Flexing their muscles, ya'll. Takin' a break from parading around Sonic and Chili's with their AR's slung across their patriotic backs and slapping up against their patriotic fannies in an ammo-erotic display, they braved going somewhere unarmed to go vote. What a sacrifice. Those brave, brave dears.

Group b is, of course, Democrats, other assorted liberals, commies and middle of the road conservatives (aka RINO's).

And here's the other thing that did not get mentioned on this morning's news.

We had a little run-off between David Alameel and Kesha Rogers. Both running as Democrats; a Lebanese male dentist and a black female who touts a meager background and young life as a political activist. So on the face of it, if you aren't paying very much attention to what they're saying, the tendency would be to vote Kesha.

Here's the thing- and it's a very heartening thing if you are a Texas non-Republican.

She lost. She lost big because Texas non-Republicans are paying attention and were sufficiently (and correctly) alarmed at her actual words coming out of her actual mouth. See, she's a Lyndon LaRouche Democrat and has paraded around with posters showing Obama with the little Hitler mustache that the Tea Party loves calling for his impeachment.

Now, ya'll know I'm not in love with everything Obama has done or is doing. In fact, I flat despise a good number of his policies and appointments. But I'm not going to parade around comparing him to Hitler. Because, he's not- and only deluded alarmists think he is. You know...the Tea Party, KKK, Fundamental Right, NRA - all those folks. That's who Kesha is aligned with.

So there are two very good results about yesterday's run offs.

1) Non-Republicans here in Texas are paying attention and can get out the word and get out the vote when push comes to shove.

2) The Tea Party had a wonderful victory.

Why is #2 a good thing?

Because come November, Texas moderate conservatives will arrive at the polls and be faced with either voting for a batshit crazy guy in their camp at both the governor and lt. governor levels...or Wendy and Letitia.

I'm guessing they'll either be too horrified to vote, or hold their noses and vote D.

Either way...Texas wins.

Because That's What Friends Are For

I very rarely plug other people's books, but in this case I'm making an exception. The author and I go way back. WAY back.

'Wyrd Justice- Weekends in Dystopia' is a compilation of six separate stories told consecutively; each encompassing a matter of just a few days spanning an undetermined time frame.

Fate Devine is the heroine who finds herself in the middle of the meltdown of America at the hands of (we know who- and it ain't the Liberals or the poor people or the sinners). She's strong, beautiful, sexy and powerful.

This ain't a G rated book, ya'll. Not by a long shot.

There's detailed sex scenes, some violence, mainly 'adult situations', and also humor, witches, guns, and zombies.

Talk about a 'total package'.

Here's an excerpt-

The woman tapped politely on the door, and waited patiently till the Sheriff looked up from his newspaper.

His practiced look of pained courtesy was usually enough to send most people apologizing and beating a hasty retreat, but he froze mid-look when he saw how damn attractive this visitor was.

Backlit in the doorway, her hair seemed to move on its own in shades of silver, gold and copper; waves of softness framing her serious face and contained only by the black-framed reading glasses perched atop her head.

Wearing a simple matching skirt and jacket in a light spring tweed, the skirt ending just at her knees and the jacket open to reveal the raw silk blouse underneath- the first three buttons undone.

The scent of Black Orchid preceded her into the office and she sat down smoothly and silently across from him, catlike.
She lowered her glasses and read from a small notebook in her hand. “Sheriff Thomas?” she glanced up at him, her brown eyes flecked with green magnified in her lenses. He nodded.

“May I ask you a few questions?” and she pushed the glasses back onto her head, smiled, and sat back in the chair, clearly going nowhere no matter what his answer was going to be.

As she sat back, her blouse opened up just a bit, revealing a glance of cleavage.

Sheriff Smith Thomas was a quick thinker- that’s what’d kept him alive all these years in law enforcement, in life and in his decades-long marriage to Ginny.

He and Ginny had grown up together and their families were best friends together. Any other ending other than being married to one another had never crossed the minds of anyone in either family, including themselves.

Sheriff Thomas cleared his throat, and answered gruffly, “Well, maybe just a few…as you can see, I’m a very busy man. What is this for, Mrs….?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s Miss. Miss Fate Devine, and I’m writing a book on lawmen of the South- such a noble and disappearing breed.” She flushed at the thought, and his predatory instincts took over.

“Miss Devine. I do have just a short spell here where I can talk with you. What would you like to know?”

She asked him about his motives for becoming a law enforcement officer, how long he’d been Sheriff, and for a few anecdotal stories from his days on patrol. The answers rolled off of his tongue effortlessly- he’d been asked the same thing by everyone from news reporters to 3rd graders and it took no thought at all, which gave him ample time to admire her as she wrote- head bowed, glasses on again, hair shielding her face and framing her long slender neck. He watched the steady rise and fall of her bosom and knew right then where this interview was going to end up.


Here's the link for the Kindle version, ya'll. It'll be up soon in paperback as well.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Luna%20Q%27otu&search-alias=digital-text

I Always Thought Wisdom Would Come With Less Tylenol

"That's quite an accomplishment for someone of your age".

On the other side of the looking glass, that would've been a bigger compliment- back when I was a child and had done something considered beyond my years. But this was recently, when I passed my certification test to become a Certified Veterinary Practice Manager- a pretty grueling task.

"That's quite an accomplishment for someone of your age", said a former employer who had been one of my four required references to even apply to sit for the exam.

Because I'm all old now.

At 54, I'm all old now and had never been to college and one of the requirements had also been 18 college hours of business courses. So I signed up for the courses at the community college in the next town over. Five of them were online, but one was in person.

The first night of class I texted Ward. "If I add up the ages of all the other students here, it'll still be less than my age."

I was older than the teacher. Not by much, but still.

I will admit that having gray hair and bifocals has its advantages.

Young men will reach up and get something from a top shelf at the store or offer to lift heavy sacks out of my cart at the car and it's a lot less stressful to know it's not because they are looking for an opening to ask me out but because I remind them of their mom (or grandmother).

When dealing with difficult people at work, it's much less intimidating and confrontational that I look pretty harmless; like I should have fresh-baked still-warm cookies in my pocket.

And I can generally out-maneuver most anyone in any sort of debate- auto repair, work meeting, political discussion...because yanno. I'm old and stuff and they never expect any opposition, much less expertise out of me.

I am a little disappointed in gravity.

I would think that here in the 'non-science-believing' zone of the US, gravity would've been kinder to me just because I accept its existence. Why is everything on me pointed down now? And I swear I'm shorter than I used to be.

I used to worry about appearance. I know it didn't show, but I did to a certain extent.

I polished my nails and wore makeup and pantyhose- even shoes with heels on occasion.

At some point in the last few years, though, I've stopped worrying about how my parts look and just became grateful that they still work.

I've become accustomed to aching most everywhere most every day and weather the days mostly without the aid of Tylenol. At night I sleep with Ward up against my back, Fizzgig up against my tummy, and a heating pad on my side to warm all the aches. I don't sleep very well for some reason- keep dreaming I'm wedged somewhere and can't get out. Then I wake up needing to pee and realize that I really can't get out, and when you need to pee is NOT the time to have to PUSH against a 15 pound dog who weighs roughly 75 pounds when unconscious.

My hair is graying, my parts are all sagging and squishy, my eyes need bifocals, my hip hurts constantly and clicks when I walk, and my ankle that got caught up in a dog chain 11 years ago will never ever be strong again, but yanno what?

I'm OK with all of it.

So I don't look 25 anymore. I'm NOT 25 anymore and wouldn't be 25 again for anything- that was a horrible time in my life filled with instability, lack of self-confidence and angst.

Don't like how I look? Don't look.

Don't like what I have to say? Tough.

Ward's first wife 'had a lot of work done' in an attempt to look young(er). When he and I became a couple 20 years ago, I told him, "I'm going to get old. I will do my best not to get fat or smell bad, but other than that there WILL be gray hair and wrinkles, so if that's not OK, you just need to know that now."

I'm 20 pounds overweight, but not fat (by East Texas standards, anyway), my hair is gray and I've got wrinkles. My one expensive indulgence is French perfume so I'm pretty sure I don't smell bad and Ward is still here.

That's all that matters.

Head vs. Heart

I always feel so much better when I'm not here.

Whenever we're in Denton, or Austin, or Houston, or pretty much anywhere not East Texas, mentally I'm so much more relaxed and happy. Anywhere I don't feel like I have to don mental armor just to leave my yard to survive the almost constant onslaught of FOX News in every waiting room and restaurant, the never-ending parade of bumper stickers proudly proclaiming ignorant and outright hateful statements about pretty much every single social issue out there, having to walk into a board meeting at work and having financial decisions weighed not by how much money there is in the bank and the profit/loss trends of our business but by, "Lets wait and see what Obama is going to do to the economy", walking into a room full of people and having someone say, "Well, we all gotta watch what we say now...the LIBERAL is here" and they're not poking fun- everyone looks at you like you're the Enemy.

It just gets freaking old.

Even up on Oklahoma City, surrounded by old Baptist ladies, when one of them asked me sweetly if I knew Jesus, she was A-OK with my answer that I was raised Lutheran. When I moved down here I was flat-out told that "Lutheran is a cult." Nothing but Baptist counts, and all those old ladies in OKC would be labeled BINO's. (Baptist in Name Only)

We drive three hours one-way every single week to be in a home school group that believes in EVILution and who doesn't think gay people are going to hell.

"Why don't you move if you're so unhappy?"

Because I always feel so much better when I'm here.

Whenever we're in Denton, or Austin, or Houston, or pretty much anywhere not East Texas,I can't seem to physically 'settle'. Our friends and like-minded people are in all those other places, and when I'm away (and a lot of the time when I'm home) I look at real estate and take in the scenery and try to settle myself there. I can see the beauty in pretty much any environment and have always been able to- the harsh but resilient desert, gently rolling plains that accentuate the sky, any coastline or water anywhere, even the terrifying mountains are beautiful...from really far away.

And I think, "If I just look hard enough, I'll find enough to love about this place and be able to call it home."

And then we come back to East Texas- the gigantic trees, hills, water, so much like my childhood and young adult home of Wisconsin, but without the death-dealing bone-cracking snotcicle-inducing winters. And I know I'm home here; have been home here since I got here almost 20 years ago. We are fortunate to have brief stewardship of a tiny chunk of this place and I walk over our meager 12 acres of woodland and wetland, creekbank and hillside and know I'm Home.

As soon as we cross into this particular mix of pines and oaks, water and hills, I actually physically relax and sigh deeply.

So I've been stuck between my head and my heart.

Lately, with the push to Turn Texas Blue and the wonders of the interwebs, we've been in contact with like-minded people crouched in fear hiding out who also live in really Red and regressive areas of Texas- been to dinner with some in Denton, had coffee with one here in Tyler, was looked at at the Henderson County Democrats meeting like I was an Ivory-billed Woodpecker when I said I live in Brownsboro and I'm a democrat because 'there ARE no Democrats in Brownsboro!' and last night had dinner with almost two dozen of 'em...right here in Tyler!

Just to spend an evening talking to people and sharing our stories which are way more than about 'living Blue in a Red state'- this Shiny Buckle of the Bible Belt is notorious for being as close-minded and unforgiving as any Taliban- and still be right here, well lemme tell you- was some sort of special.

Oh, don't get me wrong- I was highly skeptical when the organizer told me, "And they said they'd give us the room for groups for FREE!" That smelled like either a trap (and yes- I did check for an alternative exit other than the main door to the room), or proof that they wanted us all where we couldn't 'infect or offend' the other diners. Yes. It's that bad here.

But to be around people who are aware that Texas hasn't always been Red (a common refrain here, uttered loud and proud is "You'll NEVER turn Texas Blue!" Baby- I moved here only 2 decades ago and the first election here voted for Ann Richards. Gimme a break. Mass amnesia?)

Fun fact- from 1848 till 1980, Texas voted strongly Democrat in all but four Presidential elections. "Turn" Texas Blue? It's been Blue up till the last two decades.

So, last night was more than just dinner for us.

It was a beacon of hope.

I now know that there are others out there within reach. And that I just need to look hard enough to find them.

Texas WILL return Blue. That's a given. No matter how much they gerrymander and bully and thump us all on the heads with Bibles, the demographics are changing and that's not going to stop anytime soon.

And no matter how much they try to stop it, the Far Right will be left behind. The very people who embrace and say they live by 'survival of the fittest' haven't looked in the mirror lately.

It's called evolution, baby.

Comparing Movements

Mirror images, or stark contrasts?

Remember Occupy?

Now look at the Bundy situation.

Remember those people who felt so strongly about the over-reach of the corporations and banks and the government's lack of oversight and regulation of those entities that it broke out in a show of frustration all over the country? ALL over the country?

A rancher who has been illegally grazing on public land garnered the sympathy of a handful (compared to Occupy) of supporters, who gathered from all over the country, armed and ready to 'protect his rights'.

Mothers, fathers, grandparents, kids, teens, people from literally all walks of life gathered together in peaceful protest to show that they were tired of the status quo and knew they were being duped and formed a solid block of citizens for each other and against a common cause.

Mostly male, 100% white and 100% armed, the protesters cowboyed-up to form their own little militia and admitted on-camera that they were willing to kill and die for an old man they'd never met over his rights to cheat Americans out of lease fees.

Remember what happened to them?

And what happened to them?

First of all, the media (the corporate owned media) pounced on them and made it look like it was a buncha homeless welfare-sucking dope-smoking hippies just looking for a free ride and some loose-lovin'. Little mini-Woodstocks, if you will.

Well, the Right-wing media went wild with passionate devotion. They did everything but issue a Tiger Beat style magazine with pull-out posters of ol' Bundy and his posse...

As in any huge group of people, there were a few there just to stir things up, and again- all over the screens of America we saw trash on the ground, broken windows, reports of rapes and attacks and pooping on police cars. Oddly enough, rarely well-documented, though. And oddly enough, there was never any footage of the daily meetings among Occupiers designating responsibilities and schedules to keep the ever-changing amorphous crowd informed, and organized, and above all peaceful and good citizens to those around them.

Oh, there were planning sessions, alright. They planned (again- verified by TV interviews with the planners) that if push had come to shove, they were willing to put their wimmenfolk out front to be shot by the Feds. Awesome. Human shields. And as an aside, where WERE these brave little Rambo/John Waynes pooping?

The areas occupied were public spaces and the Occupiers were exercising their First Amendment rights- that Amendment that gets skipped over and covered in dust as the Second one is polished and vaunted and paraded around.

Federal land...armed 'militia'...tax-evading hero.

First. First Amendment. The Founders thought that was the most important one of all, yea verily MORE important than the Second one, even though today's proponents claim that the Second is the one that protects all the others. How convenient for them.

Because rushing across country to the aid of some guy you know nothing about except what FOX News' Hannity squawks about is the American Way. Also guns, horses, flags and stuff.

And what happened to those people, most of them employed and protesting on their off-time, a lot of them retired after a lifetime of gainful employment or in college looking towards being employed responsible adults?

How DID these guys afford to desert their families and jobs? Some are still there. Playing cowboy and keeping an eagle-eye out for injuns the Feds.

If you recall, they got arrested, herded like cattle, detained, tied up, knocked down, punched, dragged, and in some cases pepper sprayed. A large number of these were women and retirees.

Nothing. Not one arrest. Not because they were armed and the Feds were afraid of them and their awesome show of firepower, but because the Feds recognized that they are mostly unbalanced and twitchy and were just itching to Blaze of Glory.

And how did the media respond to this assault (because there is no other word for it) on American citizens?

So what's the media response to the Showdown in Nevada?

With glee.

Glee. They're a gleeful bunch.

"What do I think of Occupy? I think they need to take a shower and get a job!" one of the yammering heads of Right Wing media crowed to huge cheers and applause.

So where WERE these guys showering...and pooping? And again- what kind of job allows them to just saddle up and mosey over to Nevada for a month or so?

Be assured that Occupy didn't disappear. It's morphed into other venues and is working mostly behind the scenes- The Rolling Jubilee is one. Ensuring that enlisted men and women don't have to worry about their family home being foreclosed on is another.

Be assured that this is not the last you'll see of 'armed citizenry'. The Southern Poverty Law Center, who keeps track of hate groups in America, says that this is a growing movement- people ready and willing to take up arms against any perceived attack on their own personal freedom. That those generally do not square with the majority of Americans and sometimes even squelch the freedoms of other citizens apparently is not an issue for these brave vigilantes.

Occupy protests were an awakening for those who didn't buy into the media-tainted propaganda of it, very tangible proof that what a lot of people are feeling today is not just in their heads- things are very wrong in this country and something needs done about it. It was a springboard for civic awareness and action.

This should be a very real wake-up call to Sane America. Allowing the gun lobby to fan the flames of suspicion and hatred has come to this in real life. Don't like the law? Forget the voting booth. Forget peaceful protest. Forget organizing in a civil manner to affect change. Just saddle up your horse, or pickup, or 4 wheeler and cash your (government issued) unemployment or disability check for gas money! NOW is the time to use all that camo-wear and ammo you've been buying up at the Walmart! Because as one of the interviewees said, looking straight into the camera, and referring to Bundy- who he'd never met and lived 1,000 miles away from- "Everyone's gotta die sometime. I'm OK dying for this".

Criminal Cowboys and Idiots One, Great-Grandmothers and American Landowners Zero

Cliven Bundy is the new hero for the Far Right.

Cliven is a rancher and the story goes that the mean old environmentalists were insisting that he can't graze cattle on land he's been grazing them on for YEARS because 'it might hurt a tortoise'.

He 'stood strong' and defied the bad old government and thousands of armed citizens held a tense stand-off, all to defend HIS right to graze HIS cattle on HIS land.

Except that's not what happened.

It's not his land. It's federal land.

And he hasn't been paying his $1.35 per cow/calf lease fees for TWENTY ONE FUCKING YEARS. He owes the American taxpayers, including the idiots who were defending him, over a million dollars.

Meanwhile, the Keystone pipeline has been laid over land seized by eminent domain...PRIVATE land seized by eminent domain that is now used to bisect our nation over aquifers that supply millions of people with water and millions of acres of farmland with irrigation with a pipeline that is already leaking some of the dirtiest, foulest sludge imaginable and piping it (mostly) down to the international port of Houston.

It has to get to Houston for processing (taking billions more gallons of fresh water- something drought and fire-ridden Texas can CLEARLY spare)because it's not staying here. 100% of it is being sold overseas. Oh. And the pipeline itself is owned by a foreign corporation.

Where the FUCK were the thousands of armed citizens when THAT happened???

Nowhere. Families took the corporation to court and little old lady landowners handcuffed themselves to bulldozers and protesters were arrested and hauled away and all were berated and belittled and it was labeled some sort of ridiculous granola-crunching falderal by the far right ignorant, belligerent, incessantly yammering honking heads.

This was THEIR land. Not federal land. Taken. By a foreign entity. With the help of our government.

And yet...even here in gun-totin' gubment-hatin' Texas...NOTHING.

Just to the north of here- land that'd been in a family for generations, huge trees, pecan orchards (do you know how long it takes for a pecan tree to get to production age? A SHITLOAD longer than for a cow and calf to get eaten, Cliven)...all ripped out and replaced with that pipeline.

But where were the thousands of armed citizens to protect great-grandmother Eleanor Fairchild, who got hauled off to jail for trying to defend her property and her orchard? WHERE???

Guess she just wasn't 'cowboy' enough to warrant their attention.

Rather they make a big fucking deal out of an old criminal in a cowboy hat who cheated them out of one million tax dollars.

Way to pick your battles, assholes.