ANNIE GET YOUR GUN

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Notes of Concern…

                               …Jackson Blair

ANNIE GET YOUR GUN!

(Or Not)

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The controversy over guns continues to ruffle lots of feathers.

First the President channels practically all his energy into gun control changes. He even asks the Vice President to study the matter, set up a committee, and offer advice.

Last week, the “Veep” offered some advice.

He said: “Get a shotgun!” 

Boy, I bet that went over well in the Oval Office.

We have the “Constitution” guys. They are all bent out of shape because George Washington, or was it Thomas Jefferson, said we should all be armed. I know it wasn’t Ben Franklin because he was busy studying turkeys and suggesting legislation to have the turkey declared the national bird.

Then we have the “hunters,” as opposed to the “gatherers.” They know the food supply could tank at any moment and that the only husband worth his salt is the one who is ready to go out and shoot a moose.

After these sorts of center-oriented groups, we get into the fringes a bit. There are a couple of guys out in the West somewhere, probably Montana, who are building an armed camp so as not to be taken by surprise when the Pentagon orders troops into Montana. How they know it will be the Montana rather than, say the Dakotas, I do not know. But they are pretty keen on loading up on weaponry and practicing short order drill and going “camo.”  Somebody should tell them to read about a recent military excursion in Montana called “The Little Bighorn.”  That sure worked out well.

One of the greatest boons to our weak economy of late has been the run on ammo stores. I read that Wal-Mart had to ration out their supplies of bullets. A local gun dealer I know has a nice little store not too far from me. Pretty soon his pals are going call him “Mother Hubbard” because his shelves are most certainly bare.

I am waiting for the National Fire Department Alarm Center (there must be one of those, right?) to send out an alert to all the local fire departments. When ordinary houses go up in flames in the future, the firemen are going to need bulletproof vests because all the stored ammo in everyone’s clothes closets is going to explode in all directions.

I have said before that what the President proposes is simply stronger background checks and a limit of weapons of mass destruction. Well, maybe not the same kind of WMDs George Bush tried to find on the other side of the world, but some pretty heavy-duty stuff.  

That’s it. Full stop. But there are those among us who feel such a move is tantamount to burning down the National Archives.

Actually, I am not at all sure why I would need an Uzi, a tank, or a rocket launcher, but there is a sizeable group of fellas who think they are absolutely going to need all that. These are guys who think when the Pentagon gets finished with Montana, they are sending troops to your house.

Dear readers, this is a tempest in the proverbial teapot.

The president proposes.

The congress disposes.

Even the Democrats in the Senate are not planning to go home and face their constituents after tweaking the constitutional intent with reference to guns.

And the Republicans are not going to do it either.

And it has become clear that Joe Biden isn’t giving up his shotguns or leading the Pentagon forces when they go Montana.

So that leaves the President and Mrs. Obama.

But after seeing that picture of him shooting skeet at Camp David, I am not so certain they are going to lead a real charge either.

For the doubters and nay-sayers, let me close with a little observation.

During prohibition no one, absolutely no one, had any difficulty finding a drink.

Well Done

Notes of Concern…

                               …Jackson Blair

Well Done

Many hold that The Pope of the Catholic Church is the Vicar of Christ on Earth. He is the descendant of Peter, the apostle.

Christ’s ministry continued until his horrible death on the cross.

Popes throughout history have felt that if they were named Vicar of Christ on Earth they should serve until they died, no matter how difficult that might be.

Pope Benedict XVI has determined that he should resign as Pope. His resignation is reported to be due to diminishing mental and physical capacity.

Some will say that he has betrayed the basic tenets of faith and the duties of his papacy. That, like Christ, he should serve until God takes him home no matter how difficult that service might be.

There is an example in the secular world of one who seems to have determined to stay the course, Queen Elizabeth II, and recently served her Jubilee Year to much acclaim. She has served England now for 61 years. Here is what she said years ago when she ascended the throne of England:

"I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.”

Some will say Pope Benedict has made a rational decision that best serves the needs of his church. He has shown that one can “serve” in many different ways and that as his stamina wanes he passes “leadership” to another while continuing his “service” in a “life of prayer” away from the public eye.

Others will find ways to suggest conspiracy theories about his abdication of the seat of St. Peter.

None of us are qualified to judge.

All of us are qualified to have an opinion.

Everyone one of us walking our own path through the ageing process should have empathy.

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger who was one day to become Pope Benedict XVI served the church faithfully. He was an intellect. He played important roles in the Vatican prior to his elevation as Pope. He had strong beliefs and was considered both conservative and a man committed to basic Catholic beliefs.

Whether it is appropriate for a Pope to resign prior to his death will be a matter for conjecture.

This Pope felt he could not meet the demands of his position and that his church deserved better.

It is difficult for me to have any feelings other than gratitude for his service and sympathy for the situation in which he finds himself.

Well done thou good and faithful servant!

Attention Weather Readers

Notes of Concern…

                               …Jackson Blair

Attention Weather Readers

I used to watch the TODAY show many years ago to check on the weather before I would head out to work.  In those days Willard Scott was the weatherman. He had a humorous way of presenting the detail and I enjoyed listening to him.

One year a controversy developed. As I read about it in the paper I learned that Willard wasn’t really a weatherman in the meteorologist sense but rather a fellow who “read” the weather.

On further investigation I found that this means you hire a funny and pleasant guy to come on the set of the television show and he “reads” the weather report that was prepared by some evidently much less funny and pleasant but perhaps well trained meteorologist.

I found that Willard’s qualifications for his high paying job was a Bachelor’s Degree in philosophy & religion from American University! While this news was shocking I was additionally disturbed that he didn’t even have a degree in English or public speaking. It was a stretch to assume NBC would hire a non-meteorologist but even more of a stretch for me that there still were not more stringent requirements for “reading” the weather.

So the Emperor had no clothes for me thereafter.

The curtain was pulled open and the Wizard was exposed.

As if that were not bad enough, a little later I read in the paper that Willard was considering going out on strike. Seems Willard had a fine estate down in Virginia and was tired of commuting to the Big Apple just to “read” the weather.

I was even more angry when I read that the television network was paying old Willard somewhere in the range of many hundreds of thousands of dollars to “read” the weather. I assumed the pay was in addition to whatever expenses he incurred in making the trip to and from his home down south. It seemed outrageous that he would insist on not coming to the studio.

I think of myself as reasonably pleasant and occasionally funny so just as I was licking the envelope that contained my resume indicating that I could read the weather and would be happy to come to the studio, I heard on the news that NBC had capitulated and old Willard was going to be permitted to “read” the weather from his own backyard.

I should update you by telling you that Willard eventually retired to Florida and they still permit him to appear twice a week from Fort Myers! And he is still shilling for Smuckers, too.

He still enthralls the elderly in the audience by acknowledging their 100^th birthdays and displaying their pictures on jars of Smuckers jelly.

So, all you weather reader “wannabees” take note. Forget about the science of weather prediction. If you are what I call an “8x10 glossy,” enjoy Smuckers products, and have a way with old people, you might just be the replacement they will one day seek for Willard.

If Willard’s health holds out his own mug shot might appear on a Smuckers’ jelly jar around 2034.

I still think I have a lot to offer.  And I will work for a more reasonable salary. Also, I went to college with one of the Smucker kids so that might give me an advantage.

That being said, NBC has not been knocking on my door.

Weather does interest me.  I am a man who loves snow. I like to walk in it. I like to sit inside by the fire and watch it snowing. I like to run my dogs in it. And when I had a four-wheel drive vehicle I liked to drive in it.

However, just as Mother Nature foiled my attempts to replace Willard Scott those many years ago, she continues to make certain I do not get to enjoy the “big ones.”

But I do have a secret weapon in my attempts to get the attention of NBC.

For the last few years I have taken a trip to Florida every winter. I am not a “snow bird” in that I do not winter in Florida. I just go down for a week or so to see friends.

Every year that I have made the trip Mother Nature has arranged for her largest snowfall of the year to hit Massachusetts. I am in Florida right now watching the Nemo storm on television. I may well be the only person on earth who is mighty irritated at having missed all that white stuff.

When I was on my way to the airport in Boston to fly to Florida there was not one word being mentioned about a big storm. I landed in Florida and the next day news people on every network were reporting that the storm was coming.

I had the same experience the previous two years, although the snow in those years was not nearly as impressive.

Some people predict the weather based on their arthritic pain.

Some people predict the weather based on their sinus pain.

I predict the weather now based on my travel schedule.

If you want to know when the next “big one” is coming to New England, check my travel schedule.

And so I think NBC should chuck the “Smuckers schtick” and hire me. Every year I would announce my travel plans and the northeast could have a lot of time to prepare for the next “Big One.”

(Anyone from NBC reading this column is encouraged to contact me through this newspaper!)

Mans Best Friend

Notes of Concern…

                               …Jackson Blair

MANS BEST FRIEND

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President George W. Bush and Laura have lost their beloved Scotty, Barney. Barney was 12 years old and all the years rendered him inadequate to fight off the cancer in his system.

Now Barney spent eight years in The White House. He met kings and queens, senators and representatives, and presidents of other countries. He spent weekend at Camp David, rode in helicopters and 747 private jets, and occasionally had a chance to chase armadillos in Crawford, Texas.

Barney had a good life. He probably had no way of knowing that his experience was exceptional.

If you pay attention to the news, you realize that presidents often soften their image by bringing pets to The White House. It makes them appear more down to earth. It renders them a little more “common” than they might otherwise seem.

We had President Johnston’s beagles “Him” and “Her,” and President Nixon’s setter “King Timahoe,” and President Clinton’s cat “Socks,” and President Roosevelt’s terrier “Fala,” and the list just goes on and on.

Even across the pond, the Queen has a bevy of Corgis living with her in Buckingham Palace.

All of us who have owned and loved dogs can appreciate that this is a tough loss for the Bush family.

We have two wonderful Labrador Retrievers at our home. The elder, Bailey, is a male twelve years of age. Labs don’t usually live much more than 13-14 years, and old Bailey is showing his age. He is a black lab but there is a lot of grey in his coat these days.

There is not as much spring in his step.

He does not hear very well.

In these two areas he and I have a lot in common.

Lucy, our yellow lab, is six years of age.  As is often the case with Labradors, the puppy stage has lasted a long time. She is still busy romping around, trying to please, and showing a great deal of interest in chasing the cats.

We have had Labrador Retrievers for most of our married life. We are accustomed to, but not comfortable with, getting puppies and losing old canine friends. After all these years, we also know the signs of aging and the pain of letting go.

Bailey has been our great pal and comforter for twelve years. We are accustomed to him and he to us. He sleeps in our bedroom and follows us around the house. He loves to go in the car and to go for a hike. He loves to swim in the ocean and to lie quietly in front of the fireplace.

He has had a good life.

But we are not ready to lose him.

Lucy reminds us of Bailey’s youth. There was a time when he was the young Lab trotting around following his elder, MacGregor. When Mac died and we buried him in the side yard, we looked up to see Bailey in the window watching us. My cousin has a statement that I really like: “dogs know a lot more than we know they know.”

No one knows when the end will come. We cherish every minute we have with Bailey. But we know the time we have left is finite. We take him in the car as often as possible. He moves slowly around the house but when you say “want to go in the car?” he jumps and moves as if he were once again a puppy.

When he gets to run and play outside, you would not know his age. When we let him swim in the ocean, he regularly does more than he should. But he loves it.

So the circle of life moves in predictable patterns. We make accommodations for Bailey’s age. It's not so easy for him to jump in the car anymore, so we have purchased some plastic steps. When I call out his name and he does not come, I know that he simply does not hear me, and I go to find him. When he is asleep in front of the fire, I can tell from his whimpers and the moving of his legs that he is enjoying a great dream of past romps.

When we go upstairs, we notice that he stays downstairs until he is certain we have not just made a short trip up the stairs to return downstairs in a few minutes. When he knows we are staying up there, he makes the effort to climb the steps and join us.

Our dogs are our constant companions, our best friends, our most reliable acquaintances, and a very important part of our family life. We have loved them all.

So for now we will make every day as good as it can be for Bailey.

Because in his own way, he makes every day as good as it can be for us.