The Hill

World War II ended.  Soldiers returned to our beloved country.  Those soldiers settled down and immediately started reproducing.  That meant that there would be another generation born to pick up arms.  Woodsdale kids were the next set of warriors.  All those fathers brought home with them souvenirs from the big war.  That meant in the attic of every home there were war relics.  In Dr. Liebold’s attic was a German Luger.  Thank god Dr. Liebold had the good sense not to leave any bullets around.  Many times we picked up that gun a played with it.  In addition to guns, there were shovels, or entrenching tools,  canteens, bayonets, and everything you need to launch an assault on “The Hill”. Of course if you could not get what you needed you could always go into the Army Navy Store and get other necessities, like the prized machete.

The Army Navy store was the most wonderful store in town for a young boy to visit.  I cannot recall the name of the man who owned the store, but he was a Jewish victim of the Nazis.  Always seemed strange that he would be selling used war equipment.  His store was such a wonderful mess.  Stuff was strewn or stacked in every nook and cranny.  As your eyes danced about there were old dummy bombs, practice hand grenades,  tents,  and all the neatest stuff any boy could crave.  Since no wars were going on nearby stuff sold cheap.  For some odd reason one day the store was “ modernized “.  Everything was put on shelves and in neat order.  You could find things easily.  It completely ruined the store.

Boredom in my childhood was not at all like today.  You did not run inside and play some computer game.  Nope, you organized an adventure.  On “ The Hill”,  the known universe always had to be extended.  So when we got bored we assaulted “ The Hill”.  The Hill was over by the place where the original Stratford Springs existed.  As a child no man had ever gone beyond “Big Rock”.   Big Rock was a very large boulder.  The Indian Chief used to sit on the rock and have all his Indians gather in front of him down below.  The Indian Chief would address his tribe while he sat cross legged on the rock.  Well, at least that is how we imagined. it as we sat on the rock and ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Someone had to push the known universe beyond Big Rock,  so we were the chosen ones to do it.  With all our World War II Gear we headed out.  Young boys with a machete, canteens, perhaps an old army helmet and the same belts worn by soldiers to carry their stuff.  

The first stop was always the pile of broken pop bottles that Stratford Springs Bottling had.  We collected bottle caps so the pile needed to be checked.  Stratford Springs Bottling was a miracle.  They bottled all flavors of carbonated drinks right there.  You could get a bottle of pop for five cents.  Imagine that.  Next we passed the marvelous spring itself, which was close to the beginning of the trail.  Up the ridge of the hill the trail went.  Once in awhile the machete man would have to clear some brush.  As time went on we pushed the known universe farther.  Brave young men went beyond Big Rock.  When you returned from the hill someone who did not go would ask “ How far did you go”.  Beyond Big Rock was the answer for a long time.

Rumors circulated about an old cistern somewhere in the woods.  Oh, if we could only find it.  In our exploration one day we came upon the cistern.  It was the original cistern that supplied water to the Stratford Springs Hotel.  The cistern was a square brick basement built into the ground. It had an arched roof made from brick and covered with dirt.  In many ways it resembled a machine gun bunker. Inside the historic cistern it was dry.  You could get down in it and buld a fire if you wanted. You can research this on the Ohio County Public Library web site.  We found the cistern.  It was the equivalent of a moon landing at that time.  Also we found we could go straight down hill from the cistern and end up way up on Edgington Lane somewhere.  This was easily equivalent to rounding the Cape of Good Hope in a ship.

Mrs. Liebold was always concerned about our hikes.  She always warned us that there were abandoned mine shafts on The Hill.  In fact there were, but it took us many years to find one.  It turned out to be up near Greggsville.  It was full of water so we could not manage to kill ourselves even though it would make a good story.

On day on one of these great adventures we got carried away and stayed on The Hill too long.  The sun was setting and we had not returned.  Parents were getting concerned and about to organize a rescue.   Just as it was about to get dark we marched back into the neighborhood.  Our welcome was not the same the astronauts got.

Someone must have watched over our gang on that hill.  We did a lot of stupid things.  One of our favorite activities on the hill was to cut a “monkey vine “ lose.  That is what we called the wild grapevines that grew into the trees.  Since all of us had watched too many Tarzan episodes it was essential we swing on the vine.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not.  It was possible to swing outward holding onto a vine and be twenty feet in the air as the hill dropped off beneath the young Tarzan.  Someone must have checked Tarzan’s vines, but no one checked ours for safety.  It was not unusual for a vine to rip loose as you would swing out.  By some miracle if the vine could not support you it usually ripped out of the tree in stages, which meant you had a jerky, but survivable fall.  Other times the vine ripped out immediately.  Later in life I saw a television program about a teenager in Charleston West Virginia that broke his back in a monkey vine incident.

In summary all I can say is Lewis and Clark did what they had to do. They opened up the west.  No one knew there was a trade route to Oglebay Park until we discovered it.  Brave young men with a few items left over from World War II. Thanks to our valor and persistence the world now knows on the other side of The Hill is Oglebay Park.

Back in Paradise

The Commander and Lord Kadizzle made it back to the homeland. The Commander got her three special bottles of rum into the country unmolested.  After spending the night in a hotel near the airport in Phoenix we worked our way to what is now our home, Lake Roosevelt.  In Globe we stopped for groceries.  The highlight of the stop in Globe was the strangest creature in the grocery store.  As Kadizzle wandered around the store he noticed the strangest person, or it might have been an alien,  staring at some goods.  Whatever it was it seemed to be male, but had on a dress.  Actually it appeared to have one dress over another dress.  The creature appeared as though the head had been dried a little then squeezed together.  It was tall and topped off with a large bright blue baseball cap.  The eyes were too big for the head and bulged out.  Kadizzle rushed to tell The Commander about his find.  The Commander was shopping in another part of the store.  Kadizzle thought perhaps he could sneak a picture, but it just did not work.  Later Kadizzle saw the mate of the creature.  The mate was not nearly as bizarre.  Somewhere in the desert there must still be a hippie compound that has to send representatives to town.  That is the only explanation for this sighting.

After leaving Globe we headed west.  Finally we crested the hill and the expansive view of our chunk of the world opened in front of us.  Free at last, free at last.  In front of us was unmolested planet Earth in every direction with splendid mountains.  Not a single slum shack to be found for hundreds of miles, no streets full of filth and pointless cars going in pointless circles. The desert and desert mountains never looked so good.  Finally to escape the mess humans have made was like having the gravity knob turned down to the point where you felt twenty five pounds lighter.

Belize was a fun trip, but the third world poverty ground poor old Kadizzle down.  Humanities ability to have so much and use it so poorly never ceases to disturb Kadizzle.  When you don't see it, you don't have to think about it.  Now back in our little Earth Module it is just The Commander and Kadizzle starring at the lake with a drink in our hand saying thankya Jesus we are back in a tranquil spot.

Let's Pile Up some Stones

Yesterday the old Kadizzle made a trip into Guatemala to see Tecal . Tecal is an amazing place. Kadizzle never had an idea of the scope and size of what ancient civilizations did in Central American.

You have started from hunter gatherers.  Now you have enough surplus labor because you figured out how to grow crops. So the question is what does everyone do.  The traditional answer is pile up stones, and start some wars.  Given the resources to build houses, bridges, irrigation, and so many things that could make life pleasant people almost always decided to just pile up stones.  Egypt had the great idea.  How high can we pile stones. Every society wanted to pile up stones.  Like kids with legos ancient people made great piles of crap with stone.

Did we learn anything? No, our churches today are our piles of stones.  Millions and millions have been spent on churches that could have been spent on health care, education, roads, bridges, schools, but nooo, God wants us to pile up stones.  Look at the insane money that has gone into the same mistake that people made for thousands of years, piling up stones to please this god or that.   Wandering among the incredible piles of stones in Tecal Kadizzle knew there were people all around him involved in sects, cults, religions, or whatever, that were still bilking people with the old pile up the stones routine.

Recently I met a couple who wanted to retire. They did not have the resources to retire.  Why not?  Well they donated a consistent 10% of their income so their church could make some very magnificent piles of stones.  Nothing makes God happier than a well shaped pile of stones, it is the only way to get to heaven. So make a Cathedral, a Temple, or and great edifice and God will love it.  Here Kadizzle sits in Belize the people are broke living in shacks.  How did this happen. The good old Catholic church came in and once again convinced them to pile up stones.  Of course the other gangs of conniving religious thieves wanted part of the action so now Mormons, Baptist, Seventh Day Adventist, and crooks of every denominations are down her robbing these people blind with the same old game invented a thousand years ago.

He lives in a small world

For years I drove around the coal mine in North Dakota doing my job inspecting the mine with a good friend. He has been called to the great beyond, but one saying he had that I always liked was "He lives in a small world".  The world is not small unless you have a small mind.  You can stretch your mind.  Kadizzle is on his second leisurely day at a jungle resort in Belize.  Life moves at such a slow comfortable pace, it is pretty close to paradise. You want something they bring it to you.  They address Kadizzle as Mr. Mike.  Mr. Mike would you like some cream?  The people here are all so nice, and so much fun to talk to.  Each day Kadizzle tries to stretch his mind by learning about the lives of these people. They are all striving. They want education, they want to make life better. They love their children, and they seem to be happy.

How much good would it do for the closed mind crowd to get out and see everyone is not the same. Everyone does not want the world you want.  Everyone is on this planet, and it belongs to everyone.  What if all the right wing haters that worship Donald Trump went out and met the rapist and robbers that populate Donald Trump's world. Once they saw them would their minds open up, or would they still see the world from that frightening little place where they live?

Napping on the porch

Growing up in Wheeling was like coming from a special planet.  Wheeling seemed to specialize in cultivating unusual eccentric people.  Wheeling suffered from a disease called acute prosperity.  The prosperity struck in the late 18 hundreds.  An article appeared once in The Wall Street Journal about Wheeling.  The article pointed out that Wheeling was the wealthiest city in the United States per capita in 1894.  All of the prosperity emanated from its position as a jumping off point to the west on the Ohio River.

The little seed that was me popped from my mother's garden of nine children as child number seven.  My life fluttered into existence on 26 Poplar Avenue.  Somehow this family of nine children was plunked down amidst mostly doctors.  Our family was surrounded by doctors on three sides.  With nine kids money was not plentiful for us as it was for the children of doctors, but we survived. Often I identified more with the home dingers than the doctors children.

Who were the home dingers?  Over on Orchard Road was the children’s home.  It was a kind of massive scary building where the orphan kids lived. We called them the home dingers.  All those kids went to school with us, and it was a good experience.  Those kids were tough, they had to be.  If you messed with one, you messed with all of them.  Quickly you learned don’t mess with the home kids they were a tribe.  As a Quinn we were a tribe of nine.  It was also wise not to mess with our tribe for the same reason.  We had scouts with the home kids and it was fun to have them as compatriots. If you ever felt sorry for yourself you immediately could see things could be worse.

One of the most peculiar things in Wheeling where all the huge mansions scattered around. I grew up thinking this was the case in every town.  We were friends with many of the kids that lived in those huge old houses. It was fun to see the excess that was once common in Wheeling.  I always wished I could have seen some of those magnificent houses in their glory days.  As kids we would sneak around the yards of some of the estates that still had gold fish ponds full of huge carp.

We lived close to Oglebay Park.  A lot of our life revolved around the park.  My father was a Brooks bird club devotee and we spent many hours at the old nature center.  In the summer we all went to nature camp.  As a youngster almost daily I hitch hiked to Oglebay to swim.  Being broke money had to be raised to pay to swim.  It was usually a simple matter of finding some pop bottles to return in the hedge by the park across from Woodsdale school.  To this day people are amazed by my free diving skills.  I always find the keys, and lost glasses on the bottom of the lake I now sail on.  I developed this skill at the pool at Oglebay.  Before leaving the pool I would stare into the water from the diving board for coins.  On most days I could pick up enough change from the bottom of the pool to pay to swim the next day.

My grandfather lived over on Walnut street with just one house between us.  The neighborhood was magnificent in those days. Every house has a huge porch.  Each kid had a club under the porch where you could smoke cigars stolen from the drugstore, and read playboy also provided courtesy of the drugstore.  Up on the porch you could sit and watch the world go by.  People were social and everyone knew everyone.  As people walked by they stopped and chatted.

Now I will diverge since porches have been mentioned. Our porch had a swing, and we lived on the corner.  Nothing could be simpler or finer than a swing on a porch high above the corner on Poplar Ave.  My entire life was set into motion by that swing.  One sunny lazy day as I lay on that porch napping on the swing.  George Mattason walked by and said “Hey Quinn, what are you doing?”.  I replied “Nothing”.  George asked me to go along for a ride with him down the Ohio River.  George’s mission was to fill out a job application to become a summer employee of Consolidation Coal Company.  Down the river we went to the Irland Mine.

At the mine a man called everyone into a room.  Each person was handed an aptitude test.  With great care we each filled out the test, carefully answering every question.  The man doing the hiring did an amazing thing.  He took the bundle of test and neatly banged them on the table to make sure the pile was in good order.  Next without looking at a single test he threw them all in the waste basket at his side. Then he announced “ The company requires me to test all new applicants, I did”.  After tossing the test he looked around the table and said I have a problem.  He explained he had told ten people to show up and fill out applications. Counting the people he realized there were eleven people.  The human resource guy said “ Someone is here who does not belong, who is it?”.  Like a sheepish idiot, I raised my hand expecting some insult.  Then he said well you're hired too.

Everyone else in the room put on their application they wanted summer work.  For some reason I thought I should apply for a full time job.  Life has strange twist. They taught me to operate equipment and made the other guys pull weeds and do miserable work. When fall came I left and went to college, but I came back each summer and paid my way through college.  It is a long story, but one thing led to another and after college I had a career in coal mining that took me from Benwood to southern West Virginia, to Eastern Ohio, and at last to North Dakota. I retired at fifty and have been living happily ever after all because of that nap on that porch swing on 26 Poplar Avenue.

Canubus

What if your bus driver drove a canoe? Deep in the jungle along the river Kadizzle sits and enjoys the conversations with all the staff.  The fine woman that owns the establishment related a story to Kadizzle about how her girls were transported to school every morning by canoe.  When the jungle resort was being established there was no good road access, but the little girls had to get to school. Mr Green was the bus driver, or should I say paddler.  It is several miles down the river to the town where the little school is.  The path down to the river is muddy and Kadizzle walked it yesterday.

Imagine a trip on a jungle river to school everyday.  As every parent knows when your kids grow up you learn more than what they told you when they were young. As adults the girls have told their mother Mr. Green was not always the kind canoe paddler their mom thought. He yelled at the kids and could be grumpy.  When the girls got to town in their nice little school uniforms there was a problem. They had to walk up from the muddy river bank and there was no way they could do it without an accumulation of mud and muck on their dresses. It was embarrassing to show up for school in this condition, but also character building.

To make matters worse the path from the river went by the back end of some local businesses. So the fruit and vegetable people threw rotten tomatoes at them.  Also a butcher shop backed onto the path so the young girls got to go by dead cow parts.  What a nice start to a day.  All is well that ends well, the girls are doing fine and when someone tell them the old saw " I had to walk to school and it was up hill both ways", they have a retort.  They can say we had to paddle to school and it was up stream both ways.  Today dams have been built on the river, but when they went to school it was a much more exciting trip that no doubt involved some white water.  In today's modern world no child can walk a block to school.

The Woodsdale Mafia

I was a pretty good boy and a good student at Woodsdale until I joined the mafia in the seventh grade.  Magic happened when the kids from Edgington Lane, and Washington Avenue were mixed into our sedate group. To make matters worse the Catholic school sent their rejects over also.  Everything got turned upside down.  School became so much fun, you went even if you were sick because you might miss some shenanigans.

Like any good group of criminals we had a shakedown operation.  Roger Subit was the frail kid who collected the lunch tokens at the door to the cafeteria.  Rodger became convinced it would be in his best interest if he cooperated with our scheme to get free lunches.  Parents gave kids lunch money.  With the money you bought a token for a quarter.  The token got you into the cafeteria.  If you had one of our stolen tokens you got to spend your lunch money at the drugstore across the street.

Here is how the system worked.  After a few kids legitimately got into the cafeteria Rodger would have some tokens.  Now someone had to get down to the cafeteria as fast as possible to get a few tokens from Rodger.  The exchange took place in the boys bathroom.  Often I was the runner who ran from the classrooms over the gym clear to the cafeteria in the basement.

Mr. Hile was the principle.  He could have played Abraham Lincoln in any movie.  Mr. Hile noticed that this running was going on, but had no clue why.  Mr. Hile or Black Dan as we referred to him, decided to set a trap.  The newer part of the school was added on after the original school was build. On the second floor this meant there was a two step transition which got you up into the junior high area. Lockers lined both sides of the hallway where the two steps were.  However, like missing teeth there were a couple locker spaces that were empty.  

Black Dan knew a runner would come screaming through there when the last bell of the morning signaled lunch.  Mr Hile stood inconspicuously in the empty locker space and waited.  It was my day to make the run.  As I blasted through the transition area Mr Hile somehow tried to grab me.  Something went wrong and Mr. Hile tripped me.  I had no idea what force intercepted my body, but I went flying in spectacular fashion through the air and took a tumble worthy of a ski slope crash as I was launched from the top step. Although I was not seriously hurt I just laid on the floor and tried to figure out what it was that attacked me. Mr. Hile was shaken up and thought he may have killed me.  Had things been less violent I am sure Mr. Hile would have given me quite the chew.  Shocked as he was and concerned he may have just knocked out a seventh grader he just informed me as I came out of my dazed state that I was not to run through the hall like that anymore.

Well there is more than one way to skin a cat or rob a cafeteria.  Woodsdale had a 16 mm projector.  Anyone who grew up in that era remembers watching movies at school on the great projector.  Someone had to run those projectors, so there were projector boys.  Now, in the closet where the projector was kept were also the blank weekly lunch room passes good for five days.  To thwart chicanery passes were printed in different colors.  So every week a color was picked at random, and the ticket was made valid by stamping Mr. Hiles signature on the back with a rubber stamp. We could get the tickets, but we could not get the papal seal.  This problem was resolved.  One simply took a pencil and scratched heavily over where the signature was supposed to be, then wrote something funny like bugs bunny.  If one examined the ticket, which no one did they would think the kid just did this for a joke. Of course there was no signature under that scratching.  Now our little organization could sell discount weekly tickets or daily tokens.

Over time our scam resulted in some accounting problems for the cafeteria.  The money that should have appeared did not.  Our group became suspect.  One day Mr Hile called us into  his  office and basically made a round about plea agreement.  Mr. Hile informed us that the cafeteria was losing money, he admitted he did not know how, but he suspected we had something to do with it.  We were not caught, but we saw it was time to close down.

Little Joey up for adoption

If you have read this diatribe for a long time you know who little Joey is, if you haven't maybe you can figure it out.  Anyway, Old Kadizzle had to entertain himself today. Kadizzle set out for a hike along the jungle river trail.  Of course little Joey had to tag along.  Little Joey is tolerable in cooler climates, but try taking him in the hot humid jungle. At night Kadizzle lays in bed and swears he is going to lose weight, but in the morning Little Joey takes over and cannot resist the pancakes.  Of course today is no different.

Kadizzle decided to get on a bike and head up a very steep trail to the top of a small jungle mountain. Pushing the bike up the trail with Little Joey riding right above Kadizzle's belt was an experience. The staggering heat and humidity of the jungle seemed unendurable. Kadizzle cursed little Joey, who is now about 30 pounds.  Little Joey will not survive much longer in this tropical climate. The little lump must go, well really little Joey is a large lump. Of course Kadizzle was going to start a new eating program at lunch. Just skip lunch was the plan, but nooo, little Joey tricked Kadizzle into eating the casadias, and drinking a gin and tonic. Enough is enough little Joey must find a new home.  He has lived a good life above my belt buckle for so many years. If there is a good family that likes ice cream, pizza, and just about anything fattening, he would love to make your breadbasket his home.  He is ornery, and tricky, but you might learn to love him. He is great for going to dinner with, almost anything makes him happy.

How does this work?

Kadizzle feels such joy when he finds people who enjoy this blog.  This morning to his delight he got a nice email from someone who actually lived in the Woodsdale neighborhood where Kadizzle grew up.  The fine gentleman made the connection between Kadizzle and his sister Kate who writes a lot locally for the Wheeling paper.  Anyone who does read this blog must realize it is often very poorly written and edited.  The reason is pretty simple, it is written in usually under ten minutes.  If there are mistakes, to be honest, Kadizzle does not really care.  Keep in mind it is all free, this is what you get for free.

Many days, and sometimes at night Kadizzle wonders, what to write about.  Lately so much has been happening, and the trip we are on is so interesting, that the amount of things to write about is overwhelming.

There is a nagging desire to write about political and religious things.  What religion has done to the poor people in Central and South America is unforgivable. Kadizzle has long had feelings about this, but talking to the people here his feelings have been confirmed.  Churches have the potential to do good, but every one of them ends up making things worse. If people simply came to these countries and just tried to help, and if they left religion out of it, there would be so much more success, but no, they get these people to hate, and fight just like they do everywhere.  Kadizzle is an Orthodox Agnostic.  There is no God that could sanction the mess religion has made in these countries. If there is such a god Kadizzle wants no part of him.

Now back to the jungle.  The jungle is so peaceful, beautiful, calming, and refreshing.  The common people here are so nice.  The house keeper was just giving Kadizzle a Spanish lesson as he paused while writing this.  The group has taken off on another great bird adventure. Kadizzle is going to wander around and entertain himself.

Life in a different World

Like most of our recent birding days this one started very early. Before sunrise Kadizzle was up and trying to find coffee.  Wandering around in the dark in the jungle can be very serious.  We are actually in an area where the fur de lance lives.  It is one of the most deadly snakes on the planet.  Step on one,  and in the next three steps you will be dead.  Kadizzle managed not to encounter the snake.

On our way out to the adventure we came across a young student about ten heading to school.  He flagged us down and requested a ride.  We obliged, and then came his two sisters, next his mother and a small child. Further down the road the mother said there's my baby.  Two teenage kids were carrying a three month old.  We got the baby in the van and had most of the family that consisted of seven children.  All the kids were so nice to see in their school uniforms, and it was such a pleasure to help them.

After a long day of exploring Mayan ruins and birding we returned.  As luck would have it there was the young man and his two sisters trudging up the hill.  Again we picked them up.  As we rode toward their home one exclaimed that is my dad. Dad was walking out to meet the kids, so now we picked up dad and gave the family a ride home.  Children are so well behaved, and so cute around here you cannot help by love them.  They are so unspoiled.  Kadizzle could not imagine a little band of American kids walking to school down a jungle road and taking care of each other so well.

Kadizzle becomes Jabiru Hero

Another day in the great quest for birds.  Up early after a night of coughing, it was finally off to our jungle destination.  The Bird Brain group was lacking the Great Jabiru,  Until the Jabiru was found the bird brains could not rest, so rather than get on to the jungle a mad search ensued to find the damn Jabiru.  Kadizzle was not going to participate in the frantic search for Mr. Jabber so he sat in the van and talked with the driver while the bird obsessed searched several spots.  Finally the bird brains returned and reported they had seen one but up in the sky at a great distance.  More or less giving up on a good spotting experience the crew headed finally to the jungle.  The car load of expert spotters could find a gnat on a monkey's ass.  However, as the van rolled down the back road it was Kadizzle who spotted the Jabiru going about his day in a field close to the road.  Everyone got a good look at the Jabiru and Kadizzle demanded 40 bird points.

So now Kadizzle sits deep in the jungle at a bar where they just fed the kinkajou. The kinkajou dropped in for a drink, but all he got was a banana.  He was a big hit.

The great Jabiru.

The sun has popped up over the vast lake at the Bird View lodge somewhere in Belize.  The Birdbrains just departed down the road in search of the Jabiru. Yesterday the bird brains with Kadizzle along saw 120 bird species. The elusive Jabiru must be found.

Kadizzle has been suffering from some infestation.  Not only has it laid low Kadizzle, but our group leader has it ever worse. It is the double epizootic. If you keep up with this blog you know about the elephant in the red pajamas the other day, no doubt his blast of germ filled gaseous bursts of Satan snot are the culprit.

Life moves at a slow pace here, and very little makes a lot of sense.  The economy here is a sad mystery. Everyone seems to exist by selling everyone else food.  How does that work?  Today we move higher into a real jungle that should be fun.

Birding on the Spanish River in Belize

Kadizzle rarely gets up before sunrise, but today was the day.  Once the sun did come up we got in the boat and headed up, down, or into the Amazon.  Well, not really, it is the Spanish River in Belize, but Kadizzle imagined it as the Amazon.  The birdbrains were in full rapture.  We did see every kind of bird imaginable.  Perhaps the boat billed Heron was Kadizzles favorite.  He seemed to have a wierd smirk on his face.  I think he just watched a Republican debate.  We got to go withing a couple feet of an alligator that just kept sleeping in the sun.  The elusive Agami eleuded us.  Kadizzle might have got a glimpse, but doubtful he will get credit.

The Ant Swarm

Bird brains in their glory, that is what it was.  The day before the bird guide told of ant swarms.  The ants move in a massive herd through the jungle.  The ants stir up all sorts of things, and the birds follow behind and feast. It is rare to happen on one of these events, but the bird brains did and had wonderful bird watching yesterday.  We are situated in the middle of a vast swamp in Belize.  This morning we take small boats into the canals and waterways to see more. Kadizzle has a life goal to see the great Jabiru.  Perhaps the dream will come true today.

All in one day

Somewhere beside the Atlantic on Kaye Caulker in Belize we sit. On this strange little island which seems to be a planet unto itself life moves along.  About four hours of this day have been taken up with stories, political and philosophical bullshit. Sprinkled in between have been the pursuit of a hobie cat to rent, several bike rides, some negotiations for nine acres of land,  and a massage. Each of these endeavors could be a story in itself, but on this little tropical island so much went on in one day, but the pace is so slow one wonders how this can be.

On this little planet which is about three hundred yards wide and a half mile long people wander up and down the beach and golf carts buzz about.  Thankfully there are no cars.  It seems to be a wonderful pace of life. No one seems to get too excited about anything, and a grumpy person does not seem to exist. With tropical breezes, drinks, and seafood why should anyone get out of hand.  A dose of this island would do anyone well.  So many different lessons hide here.

The Death of an Elephant

Kadizzle is sixty six years old.  In those years he has never heard such cacophony.  At the hotel in Belize City as we sat having breakfast outside a very large man in red pajamas appeared lumbering down the steps. That was the first sighting of this enormous beast.  The day progressed and we went about our activities until it was time to move into the lounge and wait for our taxi.

Kadizzle sat quietly using the computer in the lobby.  When he got up from the computer the giant man in his red pajamas took Kadizzle's place at the computer.  Then the first bellowing roar emanated from the man.  It sounded like an elephant in the throes of death.  The architecture of tile and stucco only added to the thunderous roar.  This man would have dressed out at the butcher shop at about four hundred and fifty pounds. Next came a throat clearing or cough worthy of a walrus or hippopotamus.  Surely the man was dying, but he just kept pecking at the computer.  The intensity and duration of the sounds coming from this land locked hippo was inconceivable.  Everyone in the lobby at first tried to pretend the thunder claps and belches were not happening.  Oh, yes the belching.  The man seemed to have a tube in his throat like some sort of tuba that could resonate the longest tugboat belch known to humankind. Of course there was coughing to accompany all the other fog horn sounds.

As this went on for sometime people began to give each other strange looks, and roll their eyes.  Kadizzle kept thinking a doctor should be summoned, but the man just seemed like a lion declaring his territory.  Thankfully all the gases and noise were coming out the top end of this gaseous beast.  Had any of the torrents of wind taken the other exit an emergency evacuation would have been in order.  After going on for about ten minutes or more the eruption finally subsided.  How close to an explosion we were no one knew, but such a display is a once in a lifetime event.  Thankfully no children were present.

On the Ocean at last

Here we sit at Caulker Kaye, a wonderful spot by the ocean or should I say in the ocean.  The sea breeze has been something only in dreams for a long time.  The sea food is swelling the size of Kadizzle, and the shrimp has been wonderful.  The bird brains are outside comparing notes on what birds they have seen. Kadizzle should just take pictures of the pretty women of every sort.

The flight over was fun, Kadizzle sat right beside the pilot. There was no copilot.  Kadizzle once took ground school and chided the pilot because he made a downwind landing with a cross wind.  His skill was superb and all worked out, but it did seem as close to landing on an aircraft carrier as Kadizzle will ever get.  Had the plane not had a reversible prop and a turbine we would probably have started the day snorkeling.

The little island is a very pleasant change from Belize City.  Things are cleaner, and the pace is more comfortable.  Tomorrow we go snorkeling. The room is very nice and we are right on the beach with a pool. A very different planet from Arizona and life in the Earth Module.  The Commander must be in heaven as she indulges in bird brain activities. This is the first trip Kadizzle has ever made with his little sister in almost fifty years. Perhaps some pictures tomorrow.

The Dream

You know the dream. No, taxes, no goverment, do what you want.  Kadizzle just went for a walk to the ocean in Belize.  Ah, to see the Republican dream in action.  Take all you can for yourself. Do nothing for society because that is socialism or communism and see how that works out.  Inside the little compound you have walled off it is paradise, but you have to have barking dogs to warn you of when the poor are near. Right on the other side of your fence is trash and of course the roads are not paved and full of pot holes and water. That is what happens when everyone refuses to support the common good. When the Republican paradise comes to America we will finally become the third world country Donald Trump and Ted Cruz crave.  No sidewalks, no public transit, unless you want to ride an old school bus.  Every Republican should be forced to make a trip to a third world country where the rich take it all and everyone else is a slummer. Like my sister said, " Even if you were rich, would you want to leave your compound and see the mess?". Kadizzle keeps thinking of the saying " Watch what you ask for, you might get it".  When we finally destroy any sense of the common good, health care, taxes to build infrastructure, pay for education, we will be able to live like these people do.  We will live in a wonderful house surrounded by a wall with barb wire on top, and we will live in fear every moment we go outside because we have incentivised people to rob and kill us.

How sad to live in a paradise, but feel so insecure, and have to look all around to see the damage the Catholic Church has done, the greed has done, and what has been destroyed because no one will cooperate.  In our country people at least get together and pick up the trash on the highway, not here.  Why do we want to go the direction of greed and disarray Donald and Ted are selling.  Do we want to destroy all our protections of water, food, and safety? Yup, that is the Republican dream.  It is a Republican night mare I hope never comes true.  Look at Flint Michigan. They cannot drink the water in one city in our country and people go nuts.  Here in Belize no one trust the water in the whole country.  Is that what you want. Destroy everything we have and give it to the one percent, but before you do go somewhere and see how it works out.

Kadizzles land in Belize

Today we go out to a small island to enjoy the surrounding ocean.  A good night's rest was in order.  The shrimp was the best in a long time and so fresh for a change. The best news is the exchange rate.  Two Belize for one dollar, so everything is half price.  The hummiditity as my old hill billy friend called it.  It aint the heat it is the hummiditity.  Sitting our around the pool last night reminded me of the warm nights in West Virginia.  North Dakota never has warm hot nights, nor are they so hot in Arizona, but the hummaditity here does the trick.

The trash on the road from the airport is a great welcome sign.  It must be illegal to pick up roadside trash.  I appears the whole country is two inches above sea level.  Any rise in the ocean level will get everyone's socks wet, but being able to fish from you hotel window will be great.

Kadizzle is an atheist missionary.  If fundamentalist can roam the world spreading their gospel of fantasy Kadizzle can spread the good word of reality.  So in the airport Kadizzle was trying to convert a Mennonite, who incidentally was a good looking young woman, into a Kadizzlelite.  Well as Jesus would have it a Seventh Day adventist joined in.  The young adventist had a group of gullible kids going on a mission to Belize.  Kadizzle tried to explain how atheist would go about helping people in other countries.  Atheist drink all their rum and make them rich. Low and behold the Seventh Day Adventist knew several people from our little town of Hazen.  My sister met a woman on the plane who is living in Belize. She told the story of how the Catholic priest told the children Americans rip babies from the wombs of pregnant women. No one ever did a better job of missionary work than the Catholics.  Often they fried the people they had a hard time converting.  The destruction of the Catholic Church in South America will leave people in poverty for centuries.  Well off to today;s missionary work.

An experiment

Somewhere old Kadizzle saw an experiment.  Moving through the insane traffic and congested life reminds Kadizzle of the experiment.  The experiment had to do with the concept of exponential numbers.  You know, 2, 4, 8,16,32,64 and so on.  It is simply the doubling of numbers and how long the doubling takes. Now, back to the experiment.  A scientist put some bacteria, and food into a test tube.  Every minute the number of bacteria doubled.  In 59 minutes the test tube was half full.  In the last minute the test tube was full and all the bacteria died for lack of food.  Most humans just cannot grasp the concept.  You cannot keep doubling everything without a disastrous result.  A nuclear bomb is a giant exponential experiment in action.  The results are dramatic.  When you see Phoenix overrun with cars, and housing developments that keep doubling in size what do you think will happen?  First look at the sky, it once was the cleanest air in the country, now it is a thick haze.  Think about the water supply, it will give out soon.  Who cares?

Once you realize we live in a world governed by math you must also realize we cannot keep on pretending there is not math.  Our current economy is based on infinite expansion, more and more consumption, and more and more growth.  It simply cannot work in a closed system.  Most people do not realize we live on a planet, it is a closed system.  Republicans insist there is no math, and no climate problem.  How convenient.

Birding in Belize

Sunday the great adventure begins.  The Commander is a bird brain, and so is Kadizzle's sister Patty, so off to Belize we will go to see the great Jaburoo and all the other birds.  Who knows what internet service we will have there, but we will try to keep the world up to date on our adventure.  Today is packing day.  The Earth Module will have to take care of itself.

The Sharpest Curve in the World

On the great ride up the mountain one encounters a switchback so sharp an ordinary vehichle cannot make it.  The solution for whomever made the road was to make a little Q shaped portion of the road. If you look closely at the picture you can see it.  You enter the Q go around on the right, and leave the Q and go on up the mountain.

A ride to Remember

On the El Oso road you can ride gravel and gain about three thousand feet in 11 miles.  When you get to the top you are in for an extremely scenic ride. You can see 75 miles in every direction.  Kadizzle enjoyed the warmest day on record heading down the road in the pines and huge bolders that top the mountain.

The goal was to find a trail head deep in the forest.  The trail crew needs a way to go from the top down to clear the trail. Step one is find the trail.  As ususal when going into new territory Kadizzle had trepedations.  Getting stuck way back in nowhere could mean someone would have to got to great trouble to rescue him.

As Kadizzle went deeper into the unknown he took a break.  Earlier he had passed a group of guys his age exploring on 4 wheelers.  It seemed they were following him on the same trail.  They emerged into the little stopping point and everyone had lunch.  It turned out to be a bunch of retired crop dusters and helicopter guys.  Strangely one of them knew a man in Hazen which is a friend of Kadizzles.  

No one knew how bad the trail ahead might be.  Kadizzle explored ahead and figured he better stop. It was a good decision, had he gone on it would have been a disater. One of the four wheelers agreed to ride Kadizzle to the end of the trail.  

After that little excursion the whole group turned back.  At the last intersection the four wheelers decided to take a steep downhill ride.  As it turned out Kadizzele made his second good decision of the day and did not follow them.  Later he encountered them again and they indicated it was a very treacherous ride and they just barely made the loop’

Kadizzle carried on to the North.   The white stuff on the road was snow.  It was in spots and Kadizzle had to decide if he could make it back up if he went down over snow.  Motorcycles and snow don’t mix.  This turned out to be a poor decision.  Kadizzle went on for miles, but when he came back he had to get off and push the cycle through the snow with the engine in gear up hill.  It was fortunate it worked, otherwise Kadizzle would have had to call The Commander to come rescue him.  

At the end of the day it was a wonderful ride although a very long one.  In total it must have been close to 70 miles on dirt roads.  The scenery and travel through the tall pines was worth it.  Could have done without the snow.

The Magical Pancake Machine

Perhaps this story is or is not true in it's entirety, but it seems entirely possible.  The first part of the story took part twenty years ago. Kadizzle was in the habit of reading the Wall Street Journal every day at his job at the power plant.  Reading the journal one day he happened upon an interesting article about a man who invented the mother of all machines that could turn out 2,000 pancakes per hour.  The strange man who invented the machine would only run it once per year when a small airport in Minnesota had a fly in once a year.  Otherwise the marvelous pancake machine sat idle.  What fat guy could not dream about a pancake machine?  The inventor said his biggest problem was getting the propane heat just right under the large steel wheel that rotated as the pancakes cooked.  Best of all the machine automatically flipped the pancakes.

Now, part two of the story.  It is 2016 and Kadizzle is driving his motorcycle down a mountain road so steep he fears he cannot make it.  About halfway down the road he encounters Frank the hiker.  Frank is an incessant hiker and hikes about six months out of the year on long slogs through the mountains of ten miles per day.  Kadizzle always helps and takes in strangers so he procures some water for Frank and makes arrangements to meet Frank down in civilization and get him a shower and some groceries.

To repay Kadizzle, Frank paid for a dinner for Kadizzle and The Commander.  Last night we had dinner with Frank, and some other traveling friends.  Frank is enjoying the solar showers so much he has decided to stay for awhile before moving on.

Back to the pancake machine.  In the course of doing the FBI interview ( When The Commander and Kadizzle question strangers we call it the FBI interview)  Frank was asked what he did in the summer.  It turned out Frank worked cooking 1,500 pancakes per day in South Dakota at inside a large circus tent.  Kadizzle mentioned the marvelous pancake machine to Frank.  To Kadizzles amazement Frank knew of the machine, in fact they had it.

You can't fool me, I am too stupid

Once my cousin said to me " You can't fool me, I am too stupid".   Kadizzle has always been amused by the statement.  It is hard to explain, but think about it.  Most magical tricks rely on the mind's ability to misinterpret data.  To be fooled you have to have a minimum level of intelligence in order to confuse yourself.  Paranoid people illustrate this point perfectly.  If you ever took a psychology course no doubt you learned that paranoia takes a certain level of intelligence in order to invent the elaborate schemes the paranoid person believes in.

People often have a tendency to make something complicated that is not.  It is the equivalent of hiding in plain site.  Kadizzle has often set out on a complicated search for his glasses.  It quickly becomes a puzzle. Finally he realizes they are hooked onto his shirt right under his chin.

On a practical basis how do you put this into practice.  A classic case is those guys on television trying to sell you gold.  They tell you the price of gold is going to go up and that you should buy some.  Now, if I had gold and I knew next week it would be worth more, why would I sell it?  The simple answer is I don't believe what I am telling you.  Trickle down economics runs along the same line.  Give the rich more money and it will help you.  You give me twenty dollars and I will give you back ten.  You just got ten dollars.  The American public falls for this scam.  All you have to do is ramp this up a little and you have the classic Ponzi scheme.

Somebody stole the sign

Yesterday our little crew took off on a failed mission. Our goal was to get up on top of Mazatzal Mountains. This was not a simple task. It was a long drive just to get to the gate where the adventure would start.  At the gate we quickly found out our key would not work, it was a combination lock.  After many calls to various Forest Service people we got the combination.  As we finally drove out the ridge we got a call from the big cheese in the Forest Fire fighting group. The Cheese said the road was too treacherous and we should turn back, so we did.

So we decided we were close to another trailhead and we would clean up trash and check it out.  To our surprize we found someone had stolen the 4 x 4 information sign.   Who would unbolt and take a big sign like that?  Could it be the same people who shoot up the signs, leave shell casings when they shoot up their TV by the roadside, or just trash publican areas.  The dingers cost the taxpayers a fortune, and there are plenty of them.  Simple minded gun slingers, beer drinkers,  and four wheel driver terrorist.  It is sad to see the disrespect so many dingers have for our national forest.  The dingers watch too much television and think they can be he men by driving where they shouldn't or firing their side arm into the trash they haul out an dump.  One problem with the dingers is they are allowed to roam free.  If people don't confront the dingers the dingers think their destruction is acceptable.  If you see a dinger committing vandalism get their license number and report the person.

So now we have to make a whole new sign haul it thirty miles and erect it so people can enjoy the trails in the area and know where the trails lead.  The good news is the dingers don't have a lot of ambition. Usually they will keep their destructive activities close to the road.  However, ATVs, motorcycles, and four wheelers too often are just a means to get the dingers farther back in the woods.

Dare to be stupid part two.

Armored to the hilt Kadizzle decided to play a round of dare to be stupid.  On the Yamaha 250 Kadizzle shot up the canyon and onto the ridge with a plan to make it to the top of the mountain.  This was not a trip that should have been attempted by one person.  If and when the fail came who would help.  However, common sense was in short supply.  Kadizzle managed to get up the extremely steep rocky grade with just one minor mishap. The view from the top was astounding, but to get to the very top Kadizzle had to hike about half a mile in motorcycle boots that needless to say are not designed for hiking.

One soon discovers in the motorcycle game of dare to be stupid that going down a steep grade is every bit as difficult as going up.  As Kadizzle slide and rolled back down the mountain he came across a 68 year old man with a 40 pound pack on his back. Frank had been hiking alone on the Arizona trail for weeks.  Unless you have been in this portion of the world you would have a hard time imagining how rugged the country is.  Last night we got Frank settled in a civilized campground and he took his first hot shower in a long time. We drove Frank to the small convenience store slash bar and had dinner.  Thursday Kadizzle will haul Frank back to the trail after a few days of rest.

Toni J. Sprinkleton.

Tony for short is the chihuahua that is the love in joy of Cheech, Kadizzles daughter.  Fighting the Republican menace to our society is an obsession with Kadizzle, but he never thought he would have to enlist Tony's help. Reading the book Dark Matter by Jane Mayer, Kadizzle realizes how devious the billionaire class can be. The Koch brothers have used their billions and their subterfuge to destroy democracy.  How do you fight back? If you are insane, like Kadizzle, you write two letters per month to The Bismarck Tribune exposing the frauds of the Republican Party.  What if there is so much fraud and two letters are not enough?  You have to write more letters even though The Tribune only permits two per month.  Learning from the dirty tricksters of the Koch brothers Kadizzle quickly figured it out.  Write under another name.  Now this is a bit of a problem.  Every time the Tribune decides to publish a Kadizzle letter they call to check for authenticity.  Since Kadizzle has but one phone number this created a problem.  All of a sudden the clouds lifted and the answer came.  The Commander has her own cell phone number.

Kadizzle concocted a letter and sent it off to the Tribune under the name Tony Sprinkleton and gave The Commanders number for the Tribune security check.  Kadizzle who was in New York City visiting the Cheech at the time told The Commander about the scheme and warned her that she might get a call for someone named Tony.  If she got the call from The Tribune she was instructed to hand the phone to Kadizzle.   Sure enough the call came, but The Commander forgot the scheme and told them it was a mistake.  Later in the day she mentioned that someone had called her asking for Tony.  Kadizzle called the Tribune back and said Tony missed the call.  The Tribune publish the letter.  In fact the Tribune published three letters by Tony Sprinkleton.

Now anyone who reads a Kadizzle letter knows they all have a certain tone.  Almost always the letters end with a stinger for the Republicans.  Someone, and Kadizzle thinks he knows who, called the Tribune and said " You idiots, those letters by Tony Sprinkleton are from Kadizzle.  The Tribune was incensed that they had been duped.  The editor called Kadizzle and confronted him about the letters.  Yes, the letters were written by Kadizzle, but they were dictated by Tony the dog.  The editor exclaimed " We do not accept letters form dogs".  Kadizzle asked how else dogs could express their opinion if they could not dictate letters to the  editor.  Kadizzle agreed to cease helping Tony, but that was not enough for the editor.  Kadizzle was banned from writing in The Bismarck Tribune for six months.  Well, such is life.  Now if some soul would like to help save America from the greed driven agenda of the right wing all you need to do is serve as a pen name for Kadizzle.  Kadizzle will write the diatribe, send it to you, and you can submit it under and alias to The Tribune.  They will call you and have you verify the letter.  Your code name will be Emil Kashuntz.

Evolution.

How did 65 people end up with as much money as half the population of the planet?  Why would someone like the Koch brother two of the richest men on the planet want more, more, more? Why after they have accumulated over a hundred billion dollars do they want to destroy American democracy, drive the working class into poverty and destroy all social safety nets?  Why can't the Koch brothers and all the other greed dogs just sit on their yacht, fly in their jet, go to their fifth multimillion dollar home and just leave the rest of the world alone?  Why do they need more tax breaks?  What drives these people to want to control the world and cause the suffering they do with the greed that has driven them insane?

The Chairman from the Crazy Club called.

It is Sunday morning, The Commander is away, and Kadizzle is sleeping in with joy.  In a groggy state the phone rings.  It is the Chairman from the Crazy Club in Hazen, the home town of Kadizzle.  The Chairman wants to play a song for Kadizzle over the phone accompanied by himself on the accordion.  Over the phone comes a 20's version of "Hard times come again no more", with the Chairman playing an accordion in the background.  The Chairman insist it is his Sunday morning worship service.

That is what is great about the Crazy Club, the people in it are crazy.  Meetings at the Crazy club are never scheduled. Crazy people don't schedule meetings. Shiny is in charge of organization at the Crazy club, and again there is none.  How do you get to be a member?  Just show up, and say whatever you want, no matter how Crazy.  One rule is never get mad at anybody because you think they are crazy.

What does membership get you? Most of the time you get wonderful cookies baked by Shiny, but sometimes someone puts soap in the cookies.  Kadizzle thinks it is to keep him from eating too many.  You get the news.  Shiny knows everyone, and everything for the last hundred years.  Name anybody and Shiny knows when they last took a dump.   At the Crazy club you get to vent.  What are you pissed off about? Come to the Crazy club and let them know.  They don't care, but will pretend like they are listening.  Out back of the Crazy club is the veranda.  Oh what a lovely place on a sunny day.  You sit on the veranda, and if you want you can bum a smoke from Shiny.  The Alley Cats go by. Now the Alley Cats have their own club.  They are the people who try to avoid Main Street by walking up and down the Alley.  As the Alley Cats go by you engage them in conversation.  Both the Alley Cats and The Crazy Club accept people of all ages.

What is bothering you?  In the midst of a terrible squabble with your wife, your boss, or some other dinger? Come to the Crazy Club.  If you are all caught up in religion, normal thinking, or unable to tolerate a swear word here and there stay home.  What would be the point of being crazy if you could not enjoy it?  Usually the Club manages to entice the editor of the paper to attend a backyard session now and then.  The Hazen Star office is just right down the alley a ways.  The current editor is a good writer, young, and wrapped up in the right wing fantasy.  Breaking him of his delusions will be a big process, but it has to be done.

Sometimes Colonel Klink comes to the Crazy Club.  He is a charter member.  Klink is about as crazy as you can get.  He went to Africa shot an elephant and brought it home.  Now, I wish I was making this up, but I am not, Klink has Twiza's Elephant Palace in his backyard. Klink built his own museum to the elephant with a stuffed elephant in it.  Again, this is true and hard to believe, but Klink also built the most unusual art gallery in his huge estate backyard.  The art gallery is a big garage with a large garage door on both ends.  The walls are covered with sheetrock, and the floor is carpeted.  At this point there are very few art objects in there, but surely he will fill er up.

The Armored Idiot

The new clutch lever Kadizzle broke the other day came in the mail today, so Kadizzle installed it and off he went for a motorcycle ride.  Along with the lever Kadizzle had all his new armor.  A new protective jacket, new protective gloves, and some borrowed real motorcycle boots made up the new suit.

Into the beautiful wilderness.  Now when crash time came it would be much more pleasant.  The other day Kadizzle had done some exploration on the same road.  He made it to the highest point, but today the plan was to make it down the unknown back side.  A year ago Kadizzle had attempted to come up from Lake Apache to Lake Roosevelt on the same road.  Len and Kadizzle quickly encountered a road so steep and rocky they had to turn back.  Today Kadizzle came down that mess. Now here is where the idiot comes in. When you go down a road you know nothing about you quickly realize you may not be able to come back up, which indeed was the case today.  So after Kadizzle committed himself to a no return route he could only hope for the best.  It was steep.  When something is so steep and you can hardly make it down, you can be assured you will never get up.  One solution to this problem is to go with someone.  This is where the idiot emerges. Kadizzle could see himself getting into a little valley on the way down.  At the bottom he would not be able to up either way.  What do you do?  Call for help is the only solution.  Now, we are really talking about the middle of nowhere here.

By God's grace Kadizzle made it down without a scratch.  There were times when the front and back break could not hold the cycle, it just slid with the brakes locked.  The wheels need to turn to make a motorcycle function. Somehow Kadizzle figured out that using only the front brake was the solution.  The whole trip was a learning experience, and overall a pleasant trip.  It is a one way only trip.  If Kadizzle goes someday with an experience person and that person shows Kadizzle you can make it the other way he may try it. The last time Len had that notion and quickly proved it impossible.

Obama the llama

Fixing forest trails has some unique problems.  As you work on a trail you get farther and farther from where you started.  So at the end of the day you have to hike back to the truck.  On the first day this works fine.  It might work on the second day, but on the third day you spend more time hiking than working on the trail.  At some point it is impossible because you will spend half a day hiking to where you would work and you would need half a day to hike back, so there is no time for work.

Part of the answer might be to pack in and stay overnight.  Well this creates a problem because you need to carry a lot of stuff.  This where a Lama comes in. We have not yet procured a Llama, but when we do we will name him Obama the llama.  Fortunately we are Democrats so we will be able to work with Obama.  If we do encounter Republicans on the trail with Obama the llama they will surely try to keep us from getting anything done.

Once upon a time The Commander and Kadizzle were hiking in Utah in a wonderful steep trail.  We encountered a hiker using a llama as a pack animal.  In fact the fellow told us you could rent a llama, which he had done.  Kadizzle was amazed how easily the llama could go up over steep rocky terrain.

Perhaps Kadizzle should start a llama rental service.  Now that Kadizzle reviews his llama memory he remembers his older sister took a backpacking deluxe trip .   All she had to do with her husband was hike.  The gourmet llama hike took care of the rest.  When they go to the destination the llama packing outfit set up a tent and cooked a wonderful meal.  Mentioning this whole scheme to the Forest Service they noted that llamas will eat just about anything.  This means they will get great milage.

So if you see two people hiking down the trail it may be us and Obama the llama.  If you are Donald Trump you can claim our llama Obama was born in Kenya, but it will do very little good with most people.  They will know their are no llamas born in Kenya, but the Fox News watchers will be certain Obama the llama was born in Kenya.   Llamas have a weird way of kneeling down when the rest.  Naturally Republicans will see this as Obama the llama doing Muslim prayers.  The good news is when people come back from encountering us on the trail and claim they met Obama the llama people will think they are goofy.  If they are going to vote for Trump or Cruz it will all at up to the casual observer.

Home alone

Winkie, aka, The Commander is off on her own adventure today.  The Commander is going to ride her fancy dancy offroad bike with friends in Tucson.  That means peace, quiet, and a life without instructions.  There will be no one here to tell Kadizzle, open the door, close the door, turn off the heat, turn on the heat, sit here, don't sit there, take your shoes off, get some water.  The net result without any instructions will be Kadizzle wandering iu a circle wondering what to do.  The worst part will be losing a cook.  This could have dire consequences.  The Commander is taking the truck so it will be a long haul by motorcycle to get nourishing food like pizza, or hand scooped ice cream.  Kadizzle will survive.

For entertainment Kadizzle has been instructed not to watch House of Cards until her eminence returns.  With our terrible TV reception that means Kadizzle can watch Barney Fife in Mayberry.  For outside life Kadizzle may do a motorcycle ride with a new bike companion.  The plan is to bust a route over the mountains and come back down by the Lake Apache.  If Kadizzle falls on his posterior where they put that needle in yesterday it could be painful.  It will be the first run with the new protective gear.  Now the Kadizzacycle is equipped with a helmet, a protective jacket, and boots.  Falling on a cactus may be way more fun than it used to be.

A Kick in the ass or a shot in the ass?

Today Kadizzle took off early for breakfast in Payson with Cliff. The mission was to have hash browns along with a good breakfast. The main mission was for old Kadizzle to get a shot in the ass for his prostate cancer.  If God is willing and the creek don't rise this will be the last cancer treatment.  All was going well in the great adventure until The Commander called and said the Lupron shot did not come to the doctors office.  It appeared all was going south, Kadizzle would have to make the drive once more on Friday to Payson. As Cliff and Kadizzle drove home the phone rang just in time and the doctor's office said the shot came in.  Back to the doctor, down with the pants, and victory at last.

While waiting for the doctor Kadizzle noticed a strange little replica of a penis with something stuck in the end of it. Kadizzle being the curious type asked the doctor what it was.  The doctor explained it was to show men how to insert a medicine into their instrument of pleasure so as to achieve an erection.  Kadizzle immediately told the doctor to give him a six pack.  The doctor said it could have some bad side effects, and Kadizzle also had to come to grips with the fact no injection in the world would overcome the effects of the Lupron shot which totally eradicates men's desire.

The wonderful drug Lupron suppresses testosterone in men.  This is great because testosterone is what the prostate cancer relies on to prosper. Kadizzle has effectively or shall we say hormonally been a woman for six months and will continue life as such for another six months, then the Lupron will slowly wear off and Kadizzle will become manly again.  Now, Kadizzle has experienced menopause with hot flashes and all.  It is really menopause.  For women why didn't they call it womopause?  The hot flashes can be a real revelation of what women go through, especially when you try to sleep and suddenly catch fire.

So today all things considered has gone well.  Cliff said it was a lucky day. To test the theory we bought two lottery tickets.  If we hit the jackpot this will truly be a very good day.  I hope yours is the same.

4.3 miles past Peter Bigfoot's

The trail crew blasted out yesterday up Campaign Creek to hike the Campaign trail.  Peter Bigfoot must be pushing 70 and probably has one of the oldest hippy compounds in the country. For 20 years Bigfoot has been living off the land with whomever he can get  to help.  He sells high end vegetables and gives seminars on survival in the desert.  Our hike started and ended walking through his place.  The Peter Bigfoot compound reminded Kadizzle of the compound our family had on Cain's run in West Virginia.  Both places were practically inaccessible by anything but a four wheel drive.

We hiked 4.5 miles into a wilderness few people get to see.  As we sat having lunch we took in a veiw few even know exist.

What is an RUS?

For many years the Kadizzle klan had a custom at Christmas.  With the two little bumpkins we would sit and watch the same movie The Princess Bride.  At one point in the movie the characters encountered the RUS's.  They were Rats of Unusual Size.   This brings us to today's story.  Kadizzle is sitting here reading Dark Money.  The book chronicles how the RUS have purchased our country and are running it for their own benefit.  The largest and most dangerous rats are the Koch brothers. The fortune of the Koch brothers started when their father helped Hitler, and Stalin produce the fuel they needed to wreck havoc on the world. Now, the same family is creating economic disaster for the United States with their unmitigated greed.  Kadizzle has read many articles about these ruthless scoundrels, but to see the details of how they operate is shocking.  As you read you keep saying how can people be ignorant of what these guys do?  How can people not see what has happened?  Our country is being destroyed by the richest one percent, and people are deluded into believing it is the poorest 20% that are doing it.  The facts are clear, the evidence is clear, but people will believe what is easy, and what they want to believe.  When a book cites times, places, names, and factual material, how can you be in denial?  Yet, it does not matter, people soak up the Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, drivel based on a cloud of nothing and love it.  The whole thing is just like religion.  There is not an ounce of reality in it, but it is comforting and easy to believe, so you believe it.  Churches rip people off by selling a popular fantasy, this is the history of the human race.  Both churches and the Republican party succeed by selling fear, fear of hell, fear of black people, fear of gays, fear that someone is going to get your gun.  It works, you cannot sell someone on exercise, that takes work, but being afraid is easy.  All you have to do is believe some silly story and get yourself worked into a frenzy.  The poor have always been poor because they have been prone to buy a story.  The story they buy is sold to them by someone who wants to manipulate them.  Who could that be?  The trick is to get people to focus on the wrong thing. That is how magicians work.  You look at his right hand while his left hand fools you. That is how Republicans work.  You focus on the poor as the problem, and you do not notice it is the rich who are robbing you.   The 20% of the poorest people in the country only use  2% of what the country produces.  The one percent at the top now get 35% of all the income.   So the facts are clear who is robbing you?  Is it the fat guy eating all the pizza, or the skinny guy?  How do you get people to ignore the obvious?  You make up an elaborate story.  The military budget is what is bleeding our country dry, but no one wants to believe that, instead lets blame it on the welfare cheats.  The real welfare cheats are the people who inherit millions never work in their life and refuse to pay taxes, but wait a minute, they are our heroes.  When you examine them closely you find they are just sophisticated thieves.   Who bribes our congressmen? Do you think it is poor people? Who has tax loopholes passed? Do you think it is poor people?  The insanity of blaming the poor is just that insane.  So let's just watch Fox News and pretend like climate change is not happening, lets pretend like the billionaire and the working man have both the same chance of talking to a senator.  Let's pretend like some poor black person sitting on their doorstep is the problem.  Why take the time to figure out what is going on whey Rush Limbaugh is so willing to do it for you?  Why read something in depth when you can go to the coffee shop and learn nuclear physics?  As a country we have become fat, lazy, ignorant, and easily deluded.  History says this never ends well.

Can't Sleep

Finding sleep difficult Kadizzle got up at three in the morning.  The problem could be he went to bed at six.  So in the little box we call the Earth module, which sits somewhere in the Sonoran desert Kadizzle has his coffee and stretches the few brain muscles he has.  One of the first things he came across was an excellent letter to the editor by a good Republican friend in the Bismarck Tribune.  She shined some good light on the fraud created by the right wing about Planned Parenthood.  I think my friend has accidentally become a Democrat and does not realize it.  I have been blamed for turning her children into liberals.  However, I like to think " The truth has a liberal bias".

So here Kadizzle sits listening to the hum of the electric heater in a cold desert.  Watering the flowers it was apparent from the bright stars in the sky tomorrow will be a very nice day.  Who ever came up with the idea of having a new day every day was a genius.  Nothing could be better than getting to start all over every day.  If you can wake up with you sins washed away from yesterday what more could you want?

The desert explodes from rain.  Lately there has been plenty of moisture and the desert is going to bloom as fast as it can. The only thing holding it back is the temperature.  Kadizzle briefly got started on the book Dark Money yesterday.  Needless to say the Koch brothers are involved.  Two of the richest men in the world that could work on a thousand good things, but instead chose to destroy our democracy with their crazy right wing greed.  Strange that two people who can have anything in the world need to get drunk on imposing their will on humanity.  Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, and the founder of Facebook all have chosen to do good with their vast fortunes, but the hero of the Republicans only want to destroy the environment, the working class, and the ability of the common man to advance.  How sad.  The old saying " power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely" is so true.   The jets, the wine, the houses, the vacations, and all the trappings of being a billionaire are not enough, these right wing jerks have to control the universe.  They got rich by manipulating, and manipulating is the only pleasure in life they get.  If only they would turn it to good rather than evil.  Well Kadizzle might pick up the book and read the details of how the right wing rich have purchased our government.  It may backfire on them.  It did in the French Revolution, The Chinese revolution, and the Russian revolution.  If Bernie gets elected we can have our own revolution where the common man takes back our country.