Sunday, June 28, 2020

Thugs Kill Baby, Again! Trading Shots for Votes and Calling it Gun Violence

花蒂被吸得异常肿大






I got up this morning to a bold orange-colored sky, announcing a glorious Sunday in Michigan City, Indiana.

Mass is at 10 AM at St. Stanislaus, six blocks to the south of my home and up a paved street that was once a sand dune.

I read the news, beginning with Second City Cop, the only reliable source of news in Chicago and run by a mysteriously literate, witty and clear-thinking police officer.

The officer/writer included a Chicago media report of the slaughter of the baby and the wounding of his mother, while they returned home from a laundromat near 60th & Halsted in the Englewood neighborhood.  A car pulled up next to their car and seven to eight shots were fired, hitting the infant in the chest and grazing the mother.

Second City Cop knows all too well that no shooter will be brought to trial for this horror, but points directly at who is responsible:  Mayor Lori Lightfoot, Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle, her creature States Attorney Kim Foxx, Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart and Chief of Cook County Courts Tim Evans.

These pandering politicians are intellectual lightweights and shameless hucksters, concerned only with playing race-opportunity cards at every deal.

Tom Dart's press people paint him as a really WOKE and thoughtful agent of change, but he should act like a sheriff.  Hollywood actor John Cusack already grabbed the role that Dart insists upon playing to the advantage of no one but himself and his connected siblings. Dart has allowed the worst of the worst back on to Chicago's streets and preened before the likes of the oafish Mike Flannery and other propaganda spinners in Chicago's supine media.

Mayor Lightfoot proved herself to be a total incompetent this past May when she gave the green light to looters and Marxist agitators.

Toni Preckwinkle is a proven bigot and a vindictive power wielding oligarch.

Tim Evans is a career Democratic Party hack who parlayed his seat as a do-nothing alderman into a race-baiting grievance-policy autocrat who sends career criminals back to do havoc on Chicago.

The common shield used by each of these vote-sucking hacks is the strawman "Gun Violence."

The car used to drive up to the infant and his mother was driven by a thug.  The 7-8 bullets sprayed into the mother and child were helped along by the fingers of thugs.

Guns are inanimate objects.

Politicians and thugs know exactly what they are doing and they could care less about consequences.

I buried a score or more of bright and talented young men when I worked at Leo High School -1995-2016.  From Eric Ersery to Jason Riley to Antonio Collins, same old, same old - no one was caught, charged, tried, convicted, or imprisoned.  Hey, it's gun violence. No harm, no foul. 

I woke up in Michigan City, Indiana.  There are shots fired in this Indiana town, but they do not become part of a compelling narrative used to keep grifters elected to office.

I will go to 10 AM Mass at St. Stanislaus and say a prayer for the baby's mother. The child is home with Christ.

Chicago, Cook County and Illinois will do absolutely nothing for the grieving and wounded mother. 

Tom Dart will preen for Mike Flannery.  Lori Lightfoot will blame Trump. Toni Preckwinkle will raise taxes on everything and anything but her perpetual scowl and contempt for anyone not Toni Preckwinkle,  Kim Foxx will whine about police officers leading happy lives and she can't have that, and Tim Evans will open the iron bars and let more thugs out to exact more gun violence.

These politicians are not the only problem, however.

The other problem is that nice people will continue to allow Dart, Lightfoot, Preckwinkle and Foxx to hold public office,  Can't do a damn thing about Judge Tim Evans. He ain't going nowhere.

Neither is a former one-year old from Englewood.



Saturday, June 06, 2020

The Merriest Springald in Our Pandemic, Part VI: March 25,2020- Declan The Horse and Jimmy Bond




“To have compassion for those who suffer is a human quality which everyone should possess, especially those who have required comfort themselves in the past and have managed to find it in others. ”
― Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

“‘All in’ is our anthem and point of pride. Illinoisans staying home for the good of each other and the good of our state . . . Be all in. ‘All in Illinois’ means we care about one another, we care about our communities. We are one Illinois, and we’re all in this together.” JB Pritzker

Recap of Parts I-V

Wesley Dioneo is the only son of Chicagoland real estate tycoon, Martin Dioneo and his society maven wife Allyson.  Martin Dioneo caught the COVID-19 virus from his Laplander personal trainer and is on a ventilator in Chicago's Northwestern Medical Center.  Allyson is holed up in the couple's massive east Lake Shore Drive apartment building a score of yards from the iconic Drake Hotel.
Allyson has sent Wesley Dioneo to the family get-away home at Stop 30 lake Shore Drive in Long Beach, Indiana. Wesley is a senior at St. Ignatius College Prep and had been since the school shut down on March 16, 2020.  Ally immediately sent Wesley to Long Beach, where he can be safe.
Wesley invites over his pals and trusted companions, the Nardo Bothers and Habib( Declan & Brian) and Habib Samer for a few days of social distancing, Super Smash Brothers and Pater Dioneo's Czech beer cellar.  The quartet do what young men do - eat, play and spirit up the atmosphere with verbal assaults upon cant and cowardice. They tire of Super Smash Brothers, if that does not stretch the imagination, wit and Wesley proposes a story telling contest with the prize of his high-end kayak going to the person declared the winner.


Into this subjective yarn tossing arena will arrive six LaPorte County lovelies: Addison Pawliak, Paisley Ewan, Aaliyah Justice, Genesis Mullen, Kennedy Lynch, and Amy Kinsley Briddlestone.  Wesley decided to allow Declan Nardo the opportunity to tell his tale about beating Chicago Bulls 1993 Title winning Myrmidon John Paxson at a game of horse, when the aging NBA star visited La Lumiere's Marsch Gym, a few years after that school own the national high school basketball title.   Addison Pawliak, Paisley Ewan, Aaliyah Justice, Genesis Mullen, Kennedy Lynch, and Amy Kinsley Briddlestone arrived at the Stop # 30 address of Wesley Dioneo at different times and by different modes of transportation.

Part VI - March 25, 2020

On this Wednesday, while the COVID-19 plague gave elected officials all over the nation an opportunity to exercise executive authority over the people who elected them - shutting all business, mandating a universal stay-at-home order, stopping travel and dominating the very compliant news media.

No one rebelled, but some tried to exercise common sense and were immediately arrested and hauled into court.  Essential businesses, like the vitamin factory where this writer works remained open and employees were mandated to wear masks, gloves and maintain a social distance of 6-12 feet from one another. People shrugged and went about shipping Gummie Vitamins for Women, Men, Children, Stressed, Sleepless, or WOKE Americans.   In Chicago 12 people were gunned down; Governor Pritzker and Mayor Lori Lightfoot extended the stay-at-home-order to well past April 7, 2020. What can you do?  Get a haircut?  Well, only you if you are the Mayor. 

But our tale about tales is set in Indiana!  Most definitely.  Northwest Indiana is a part of the Chicagoland market for media, politics and consumption.  Smart Chicagoans buy homes in this lake front region, because the quality of life is far superior to the Big Windy.  Kids do not get gunned down every three hours, as they do in Chicago and Indiana is not a bankrupted oligarchy run by a Governor who waddles with penguins and traffics in marijuana. 

The waddling oligarch of an Illinois Governor put Illinois on its knees and under house arrest. 

The Governor of Indiana responded to the threat of the mystery virus with far more common sense.  Therefore, citizens felt more at ease walking, riding bikes and visiting friends and loved ones. 

In Long Beach, Indiana  ten young people, high school seniors, ate submarine sandwiches from Jimmy Johns and began a story-telling contest.  Jimmy Johns sandwiches all tasted the same, be it turkey, beef, ham or vegan.  The taste was secondary to the filling of the maw and bags of Salt and Vinegar Chips overcame whatever disappointments the purchase might allow to creep into the smart and savvy minds of early adults. 

Wesley Dioneo had a disarming smile and a thick head of brown, uncombed hair over a wide forehead that indicated a broad intellect and inquisitive nature. His dark brown eyes radiated warmth and inviting membership to people with good hearts, but also acted as an early-warning system for frauds and bunkum-slingers. 

After eating half of an erstatz Italian sub from Jimmy Johns, Wesley intoned, " Let the contest for the Old Town Sportsman Minn Kota begin !  Remember.  Each story must fulfiill each of the five following requirements


1. The story must amuse
2. The story must teach a lesson
3. The story must reveal the character of the person telling that story
4. The story must be something to bring people together

5. The story must acknowledge our own mortality 

Ladies, Declan has a yarn that would reignite a campfire on the plains of Wyoming long cooled by the Western Winds.  Declan Nardo, ladies and Gentleman!"

A round of enthusiastic catcalls and faux fanfare greeted the thick-set basketball star of La Lumiere ( local teams only and not the national tour squad, mind you - Declan was good but not destined for D-1, D-2, or D-Zed college teams. ) Basketball. 

" Last November, when we getting ready for the season, JohnPaxson, the old GM of the Chicago Bulls came to talk to us about team building and trusting your teammates. Paxson went to LeMans Academy in Rolling Prairie - the schools that's now a priest school for some Mexican Catholics.  He went there knew all about La Lumiere and followed the Lakers when we won the national title,

I play on the local squad, me and Brian.  My left-handed shots suck donkeys.  Brian is way better than me.  Anyway, Paxson went on and on and on and everyone wanted to get to the main house for dinner with boarders, but I liked him and stuck around.

He asked me, " How 'bout a game of HORSE?"  Now, he is number 5 and scored the winning basket in 1993.  None of us were even born, but you know . Anyway, I figured he's an old guy and how good a shot can he have now. "

The game of HORSE is played between two people and called shots are the courtesy.  If you call your shot, Hook, Set, Jumper, Backboard, In with Rim, Nothing But Net, that is what counts. If one makes the basket, the opponent must make the exact same shot and from the exact same position on the floor.  If one misses he gets a letter, until the first player with HORSE totals out.

" So, Paxson gave me first shot.  I went to the top left side of the Key and called Set Shot - Nothing But Net.  Missed.  Paxson went to half court and called Jumper - Backboard - nailed it. 

We shot back and forth for twenty minutes, and Paxson called Under Hand from Free Throw Line SWISH and Nailed it.

I did the same and nailed it.  

Then he says Left Hand Set Shot -Back Board!

I am so screwed. I am dead!

He missed. 

I called Shot from the left top of Key Swish.  Dropped like a bad habit!  John Paxson Missed.   HORSE!!!!!!  I beat Number 5!

John Paxson shook my hand!"

At that, a weak round of applause nodded a nice bit of approval for Declan Nardo's true account of his victory over a legend.  He was only "dead" for a moment. 

Wesley called up the lovely Amy Kinsley Briddlestone. 

Amy tossed her golden locks and chirped, " Mine is a tale of struggle and courage in the face of circumstances of birth.  Jimmy Bond owns the great Jamaican Restaurant and Pub over on Route 12 near the old Knoll Brothers gas station.  Jimmy is half Chinese and half English.

He was born in Jamaica - a Jamaican Woman's Detention Center called Fort Augusta.  Portmore, Jamaica.   His mother had been a secretary to British Colonial Governor in Kingston in 1962.  She was a beautiful bi-racial woman whose father had been a drunken Hong Kong police man and mother a gorgeous Irish prostitute. Her name was Moira Taro.  

Miss Taro was enthralled by Dr. No, a nuclear engineer who bedded the young Moira and put her to work spying on the British.

She was told to study the actions of a British MI-6 agent James Bond and to intercept any reports she may have filed concerning Dr. No's radioactive wave experiments on his private island at Crab Key.

Miss Taro invited Bond to her mountain cottage for a tryst - that's a date, boys - and try and get him killed by Dr. No's many agents on the island nation.

They did the deed.

Miss Taro secretly enjoyed her dalliance with handsome James Bond, but she was betrayed by him and arrested as a terrorist. 

After Dr. Julius No died in an explosion that destroyed Crab Key, Miss Taro was tried in a colonial British Court to ten years at hard labor.

She was pregnant by Bond. In August 1962, Jamaica became a Commonwealth Nation, but Miss Taro was still considered a dangerous enemy of the Crown. 

Her son James was born in 1963, on the same day that JFK was assassinated. The lovely, but vile Moira Taro died of uterine cancer in January 1964. 

Jimmy was handed over to a Jamaican family by the child courts one year after his birth.

They had a Jerk Chicken cantina and huge following.  Jimmy Bond learned to jerk meats, as well as run a restaurant.  He was not a black man, but grew long dred locks and learned to play the bass guitar. For a while he had hoped that Michael Manley would improve the lives of Jamaicans, but he was just another Communist gangster and his policies ruined the business of Jimmy's adopted parents. 

When Manley was re-elected as Prime Minister in 1989, Jimmy Bond moved to Miami and applied for United States Citizenship. 
Slow Cooker Jerk Chicken | Bakers Royale
Jimmy played bass for Jimmy Buffet on two national tours and bought in on a Jerk Chicken restaurant in Bonfield, Illinois.   Jimmy Bond's became a regional hotspot with great food and hot music. 

In 2010, Jimmy Bond bought his restaurant on Route 12 and moved to Michiana Shores. 

Life had not treated him well but hard work and a sunny outlook made Jimmy Bond, Shaken but Unstirred!"

Habib spilled Russian dressing out from his Jimmy John's sandwich all over the carpet.  " Sorry, Dude!  My bad. Amy, that's the Bond Movie.  Is that plagiarism?  Besides, Cool Runnings is way better food.  Dude, I got the spill.  God. "

Wesley began cleaning up the Russian dressing. 


Part VII - Russians and Hamlet












Saturday, May 23, 2020

The Merriest Springald in Our Pandemic:Part V. Enter the Ladies


A Plague 1492



The Plague du jour


My media diet is the literary equivalent of vegan.
The background to this is that I am as far as possible from being a political junkie, which reduces greatly the prospect of my having ever become a news junkie. My saintly mother, early in my youth, pronounced, with an amused hauteur, all politicians thieves and sixty years of my own experience watching the breed has turned up nothing to confute her sensible pronouncement. With the exception only of Daniel Patrick Moynihan, whom I knew slightly, there has not been a single member of either body of the United States Congress during the past half century whose company I should want even for the duration of a cup of coffee.   Joseph Epstein " What I Read "  The Atlantic
“Even as we face an unprecedented public health crisis, our first responders, city workers and street outreach partners from across Chicago are coming together in an all-hands-on-deck effort to keep residents safe this weekend and throughout the summer,” Mayor Lori Lightfoot said. “While I encourage all residents to celebrate the holiday, it remains imperative that we do so by staying inside and social distancing so we can continue to save lives and keep our fellow neighbors safe and healthy.” NBC Five

Recap of parts I-IV
Wesley Dioneo is the only son of Chicagoland real estate tycoon, Martin Dioneo and his society maven wife Allyson.  Martin Dioneo caught the COVID-19 virus from his Laplander personal trainer and is on a ventilator in Chicago's Northwestern Medical Center.  Allyson is holed up in the couple's massive east Lake Shore Drive apartment building a score of yards from the iconic Drake Hotel.
Allyson has sent Wesley Dioneo to the family get-away home at Stop 30 lake Shore Drive in Long Beach, Indiana. Wesley is a senior at St. Ignatius College Prep and had been since the school shut down on March 16, 2020.  Ally immediately sent Wesley to Long Beach, where he can be safe.
Wesley invites over his pals and trusted companions, the Nardo Bothers and Habib( Declan & Brian) and Habib Samer for a few days of social distancing, Super Smash Brothers and Pater Dioneo's Czech beer cellar.  The quartet do what young men do - eat, play and spirit up the atmosphere with verbal assaults upon cant and cowardice. They tire of Super Smash Brothers, if that does not stretch the imagination, wit and Wesley proposes a story telling contest with the prize of his high-end kayak going to the person declared the winner.
Into this subjective yarn tossing arena will arrive six LaPorte County lovelies: Addison Pawliak, Paisley Ewan, Aaliyah Justice, Genesis Mullen, Kennedy Lynch, and Amy Kinsley Briddlestone.  Wesley decided to allow Declan Nardo the opportunity to tell his tale about beating Chicago Bulls 1993 Title winning Myrmidon John Paxson at a game of horse, when the aging NBA star visited La Lumiere's Marsch Gym, a few years after that school own the national high school basketball title






Enter the Ladies of LaPorte County


Addison Pawliak, Paisley Ewan, Aaliyah Justice, Genesis Mullen, Kennedy Lynch, and Amy Kinsley Briddlestone arrived at the Stop # 30 address of Wesley Dioneo at different times and by different modes of transportation.

Amy Kinsley Briddlestone was dropped off from a 2019 Lexus by her older sister who was going to Meijer's on Franklin, after coming home from Ball State, when the Corona-19 shut down all places of higher learning in Indiana. " Thank God, you are staying at Wesley's for a day or two, or there would be no sushi for anyone.  Mom bought a shit-ton of California Rolls, Crispy Crab and Crunchy Shrimp and I get home - nothing."

Amy was non-plused, but should have been plused as she had in fact hogged down six trays of cold fishy goodness, while binge watching Peaky Blinders on Netflix, " Mom had some too, Miss Bitch."

Mom had twoof the fishy treats and the fetching Miss Amy gulped down the remaining six tasty sorta- sushi treats.  They were cheaper than Hokkaido'son Franklin Street and adequate to the needs of cold fish consuming American women.

Amy Kinsley Briddlestone was a powerful self-advocate and no stranger to the loneliness of getting everything that she wanted immediately.   She wanted Wesley Dioneo, but the swashbuckling young man had set his cap for an ideal young woman that he would not meet for many years to come.  Amy Briddlestone was what young women of the current generation refer to as a Homey Hopper.  A Homey Hopper is usually a male who would cozy up to a lovely young lady in order to have his wicked ways with her much more attractive best friend forever.

Predator Amy had shamelessly led -on Habib Samer and Habib could have cared less, as the fetching Amy K. Briddlestome was his . . .for a while. Habib will remain madly loved the tawny-haired, ambitious and sexy young siren.  He wouldonly  get over Amy Briddleston sometime in late 2020s, while serving his medical residency at Indiana University Medical Center and would capture the heart of Romanian blood technician.

Kennedy Lynch and Paisely Ewan were co-captains of the Marquette Volleyball team and lived in Long Beach.   Paisley's Mom and Dad were partners with Winston & Strawn in Chicago and decided to practice in Illinois, but live a very pleasant and full life in Indiana. Ewan family of five were immersed in all aspects of Long Beach.  Paisley was the oldest child and doted on her younger brother and sister - both five years her junior.  Buck was in  8th grade.  Hannah was in third grade there and still grieved that Mr. Lynch was no longer her Principal.

Kennedy Lynch had a very hard time when he father was accused of sexual harassment by a young woman teacher who could not accurately tell her class what city was the capital of Michigan, " It is Detroit.  The most important city. Anyway we live in Indiana and its capital is South Bend. Our next President is South Bend's mayor!"

Kennedy knew that her father was a sweet, caring and affectionate gentleman and well-respected by everyone who knew him.  However, these are strange time.  A young woman can accuse any man of any misdeed and not need to back up her claim; especially in the Catholic Diocese of Gary, where the leadership avoids unpleasantries and possible public obloquy at the expense of truth.  The new bishop's motto should be Vitare super omnia quaestio Above all Things Avoid The Question.  Ken Lynch signed a non disclosure agreement and a contract to run a Catholic school in the Diocese of Kalamazoo, Michigan. Kennedy was sad to witness her father's heartbreak, which he patched up with hard work and a cheerful demeanor. The accusing teacher received a payment from the Diocese of Gary and was promoted to assistant principal.

Kennedy was a lovely redhead with a fierce sense of justice and an athlete's determination.  Kennedy and Brian Nardo were "dates."

Addison Pawliak was prettier than Amy, less athletic than Kennedy, but a better student than Paisley and could dance and sing better than both Genesis Mullen and Aiyliah Justice,  Addison rode her bicycle from her ranch house in Queen of All Saints parish on Woodland Avenue. Addison worked as a car-hop for Carlson's Drive-In on Coolspring.  Addy was excited to begin work there again, but the virus pushed every elected official in America to shut the door on normality and order shelter in place universal.  Even Indiana  erred on the side of panic.  She does her schoolwork on a computer and helps her Mom around the house.  Getting out for a stay-over is just what she needed and Mom was only too glad, because she and her husband loved and respected young Wesley and his circle of friends.   Mom id not care much for Amy K., but Addy loved her even though she treated people like ATM cards.   Some people do.

Addison's Dad worked in Burns Harbor at the steel works, as had his father and his father's father.  He made good money and Addison's mother Rita was a stay-at-home Mom in world of have it all feminists.   Addison wanted to be a Michigan City cop.  She was accepted at Purdue Northwest for the 2020-2021 academic year.  Addison was madly in love with Declan Nardo. Addison had recently led three other Marquette Students to Chicago's Daley Center, as President of the school's Right to Life Society.

Cousins Genesis Mullen and Aaliyah Justice were grandchildren of the Reverend Titus Justice,STD of the Pines AME Church on Route 12 on northwest corner of Michigan City.  Genesis and
Aaliyah were seniors at Marquette High School and regular speakers for the Rotary and the Junior Chamber of Commerce. Both girls played softball and participated in every musical and dance feature the high school provided.  They were activists and members of the Michigan City Junior Police Commission that helped local African American youth groups find common ground through sports and arts programs.  Blue Chip Casino recognized both young ladies as urban achievers and offered both post-secondary scholarships to Purdue Lafayette where both ladies would attend in the fall of 2020.   Their grandfather, who served on the Michigan City Police Commission and served as the voice of the soul to the African American Community profited little from his ministry, because he gave away most of his salary to needy families and sent each of his children and grandchildren to Catholic schools for the discipline that he established at the family dinner table.

The girls were best friend of Amy Biddlestone and shared her admiration fo Wesley Dioneo. They arrived at Casa Dioneo with a bags loaded with Jimmy Johns Submarines.

The level of noise increased and Wesley commanded everyone's attention with his proposed Tale Telling Tournament.  " Everyone tells a story, but me.  Here are the Rules

1. The story must amuse
2. The story must teach a lesson
3. The story must reveal the character of the person telling that story
4. The story must be something to bring people together
5. The story must acknowledge our own mortality

I will determine which story best fulfills each of the five points, amuse, teach, offer a revelation, build community, admit to Life's brevity."

 Declan asked for a do over. It was agreed that Declan would re-tell the story of how he bested John Paxson in a game of horse.

Part VI - Declan's Game of Horse and Amy Tells the Story of James Bond's Bastard Son







A

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Are You A Person Who Requires Justification, or Are You a Worker?


I always wanted to be regarded for my worth.  My family valued hard work. Hard physical work was the litmus test.

My Grandfather, Lawrence Hickey of Crinnie Hill, Castlisland, County Kerry, Ireland, held that " NO man could DIG like Martin Ford!"

If one had been presented the Medal of Honor and three honorary degrees from Columbia University, Harvard and  a life membership to Total Fitness, it would mean less than nothing compared to Martin Ford, of Scartaglen, Count Kerry, and his ability to dig a 6' by 4'12" deep trench for plumbing.  As if???!!!

I worked at Chicken Unlimited on 79thst & Wood Street in Chicago, Illinois,  from August until October 1968 and  I was fired.  Gene Mahony fired me, because I could not deep fry chicken pieces in a consistent manner.  I could not.  No how. No way.

I went to work at Gee Lumber on 79th Street and did so there for as long a as I wanted.  I cut lumber, mixed cement, threaded pipe for plumbling and bent pipe for electrical uses.  I was and remain a very hard competent and hard working employee. From 1975 until I was very discourteously fired by a dull, but WOKE scold Catholic high school principal  in December 2019,   I worked as a very honored and respected English teacher.  My heart is broken and choose not to teach again.  Kids and parents are wonderful, Catholic schools seem to be run by people who could not cut it in the classroom and political play-actors.  I'll have none of it.

A person must work in order to fulfill the obligation to God, who opens our eyes in the morning.

I work and will do hard labor.

I work 8-12 hours per day as a packer and shipper of vitamins in Port of Indiana, Indiana.  I am very happy to do this work.

The work is tiresome, but not hard.  The work is important, but not crucial.

After 8, or 12 hours of work, I go home and read  The Mayor of Casterbridge, The Anabasis, Contra Catalina, or the latest issue of Jugs and Ammo.

Now, some cousins might find my tone here  to be a bit sardonic.  That is true and I tend to be sardonic and I tend to be a bit of a know it all.  Well, dang me, dang me, they outta take a rope and hang me. Hang me from the highest tree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Woman would you weep for me. Do Doit Do Duh Doit Doin Do!!!!

That aside.  I value hard work.

Today, we seem to honor work that was normally doing one's job.

" Oh, Thank you!  Thank you, for your service!!"  is chirped at every small courtesy performed by a waitress, attendant, or hanger-on.

Nurses are now Sgt. Stryker, taking that last puff on a square and that Jap bullet in the back while the six Lads raise Old Glory on Suribachi.

Clerks at Service Six on Route 12, wearing masks and palming the "losing" Hossier Lotto tickets of dowagers and dumb-asses, are deemed the sons of Audie Murphy and Sergeant York.

Let me just say that during this, our Months of Infamy & Days of Harrowing Sorrow, that I am a hero.

Yes!

I am a son of the Myrmidons!  The Greave wearing Greeks!  The Baddest of the Bad!

I have been making Gummy Vitamins as an Essential Worker in Port of Indiana, Indiana!

Listen up.  I rise at 4:15 A.M. and that is Four Fifteen Ante Meridian, Bub! Every day.  Unless some event, or upset, interrupts that condition, mind you, I get up at the first chirps of the sparrows.

I immediately  S, S & S  and, if you need to know the full meanings of that tripling consonant acronym, it means to shower, to shave, and to see that the internal gastronomical organs are evacuated - soundly.

Sounds like steam escaping!

My boots are drawn on with great care and attention, as I know that socks can bunch up and cause an eight hours of serious agitation and irritation.  My boots are Red Wings #401 and made in Minnesota.

I drive from Michigan City on the historic Route 12 and wind the tree-lined road with great care as the route is winding and deer are incredibly stupid. Deer wait until the car gets within killing distance before they 'decide' to take the plunge across the road and blast from fender, to hood, to trunk over your car.

The drive takes 20 minutes - tops. I had been taking the lovely and winding Route 12, but several encounters with Bambi and his cousins shifted my course to the more direct Route  20 - a few miles to the south and somewhat parallel.

I arrive, punch in, and wash my hands with great care.  People put our product in their mouths and every person in the plant pays careful attention to that fact.  We wear hair nets, beard nets, gloves, safety glasses and of course PPI masks. The masks properly worn tend to fog up my glasses and so when social distancing allows I shift the mask under the old schnozoola.

I immediately grab a pallet jack and find a stack of undamaged pallets and deposit them at my line station.  Then, I check with my line boss about the codes on the labels and the product to see how many boxes I will need to make for the shift.  Generally, two to three hundred for starters.

An hour later, the person packing the plastic wrapped bundles of three bottles of Gummy Vitamins will signal me that product is coming down the line.

The line begins in the sealed-off production room where six to eight of my co-workers separate hundreds of pounds of Gummies, place caps on a conveyor, place bottles on another belted line and monitor the weights.  The bottle capping machine is whirling miracle of mechanical madness.  The nine bottle cap-ers look like Oscar statuettes pounding and twisting plastic caps and seals onto the bottles containing exact weights of product.

Then the hundreds of bottles waddle to the labeling station, the plastic wrapper and to the packer.  The packer inspects the bottles for damage, flawed Gummies, or bad labeling and tosses any package that does not meet standards.  I pack as well as stack.  The packer must check for proper codes that are inked onto the bottles just before they get bright labels.  My old eyes fail me at this task and when I can no longer properly check for the code, my line boss will send over younger eyes.

Four packages of three bottles go into each box and then the box is thrust into the automatic taping and sealing device and conveyed to my mighty mitts, which I use to begin stacking boxes on the pallet.


Generally the boxes weigh between five and ten pounds each, but the Large Tall Boy weigh about fifteen pounds.  I get a  very good work-out lifting and twisting and running and re-working the flawed bottles and product.  My pallets have ten stacks of fourteen rows arranged according to product shipping manifest.

I wear a back brace and lift with my legs.  The work is tiring, but easy and nothing like waitering, bar tending, walking a police beat, nursing, or carpentry - to say nothing of cement work, garbage collection, farming, or clerking.

The hardest part for me is shrink wrapping the full pallet which requires me to Limbo LOW, while wrapping plastic wrap around the pallet with ever increasing speed. " Look at that white man, Go!!!"

I get very dizzy and winded doing that onerous task.

I wait for my line boss to begin making up two pallet tags which I attach, after the Quality Control Officer inspects my pallet to ensure that the boxes are arranged according to the shipping orders.  I have yet to undo one of my pallets, I am proud to say.

Once tagged, I grab a pallet jack and haul my stack to the warehouse where a fork-lift driver picks it up and takes it to a waiting trailer.

After eight to ten hours, we will have completed six to seven pallets. That's 140 boxes times six or seven.   Not a bad day' s work,

I have been blessed to work all through this COVID-19 pandemic.  I have an essential worker paper in my car.  I was never once stopped by law enforcement during the Stay at Home months of March-April.

I enjoy the work and the lovely people with whom I sweat on a daily basis.  These people humble me.  Black, Mexican and white.  I am the oldest person on the floor.  Most are fighting to feed,clothe and house their families at a very low wage.  Think National Minimum Wage and some change.

They are the heroes and they are so without that damn bug, or grifter politicians using a crisis to lord it over people.

Workers are heroes; not Sgt. Stryker, or Audie Murphy.  That is plenty for me, anyway.