A Conspiracy of Incompetence?

 

A Conspiracy of Incompetence?

 

On July 6, it was announced that Donald Trump would hold a rally in Butler Pa.  That would give a 20-year-old probably depressed loner kid 7 days to plan an assassination.

This kid (baby by today’s standards) lived an hour away.  Did he know the area where Trump would appear?  Did he know what buildings or high points would be available to assume a shooting position?  Did he have any idea that such a spot would not be covered by secret service?

Highly unlikely.  More than unlikely, outrageously unlikely.

Did this kid make that hour trip and do surveillance of the site days before?

How did this kid get anywhere near the rally carrying a rifle?

How did he manage to climb onto the roof unnoticed with a rifle?  This kid was not an athlete, I don’t see him shinning up a drainpipe with a rifle over his shoulder and not being suspicious.

Apparently, there was a ladder nearby.  Oh, that makes…WAIT WHAT? So not only was this vantage point for a kill shot not monitored closely, there was a ladder left for easy access!

I am not suspicious of any organized or planned conspiracy to murder Ex-President Trump, but clearly there was mass incompetence somewhere down the security line.

Was it pure incompetence, or was it passive incompetence because some “lone wolf” security person or group decided,

“Hey, if he’s shot, he’s shot!” and practiced extreme relaxed due-diligence.

Did this kid just show up early, see the roof with a direct line, and plant a rifle ahead of time.  (I believe he was seen wandering around the grounds sans gun) Did he then use the ladder and climb the roof to shoot Trump? 

Was it simply a crime or opportunity?

Did this kid think, “Let me show up with a rifle and if somehow I get a chance to kill Trump, I’m going to go for it.”

What did he have to lose, clearly this was a “suicide by cop” scenario.

The only thing more amazing than the shot missing it’s mark, is that the shot was allowed to made in the first place.

I wonder if we will get any real answers. 

Grassy knoll?  Move on, nothing to see here.

 

PLEASE STEP DOWN!

 

PLEASE STEP DOWN!

In the I interest of my own sanity I have temporarily removed the “no politics” clause to this blog.

Joe Biden needs to step down.  No argument, no discussion, no more lying to the public, we all know what we have seen and it is more than concerning. 

Much of the world is worried, much of the world is laughing, and our enemies are sure to be extra embolden.

Just step down before it is too late. 

Not because you may lose, but because you still might win!

It is not too late to step down and allow a reasonable patriotic more middle of the road candidate who is completely in control of his faculties, to take your place.  

It is not too much to ask that the leader of our country not be a doddering old man, one who 26 years ago went through two extensive brain surgeries, one who in his best days many, many years ago was determined to be unqualified for the position he now holds and seeks for four more years.

Will the man we have seen protected by his handlers and much of the media for the last three years and who was fully exposed the other night improve in the next few years?

NO WAY IN HELL!!

It is not too late to run a new candidate.  As much as I dislike her, Hillary would be acceptable.

My choice?  I am not a Democrat, but since you asked, head for New Jersey.

Senator Cory Booker has leaned left for political expedience, but deep down he is a highly intelligent, caring, and a motivated public servant.

My second choice is New Jersey Governor Murphy, also highly intelligent reasonable and an empathetic man.

Most of the names I have seen thrown around are not my Republican cup of tea, but at least they are all capable of rational decision making and leading.  

Joe Biden is not.  

You know it, I know it, and for God sake, someone please tell Joe!

 

 

DINNER WITH FOGHORN LEGHORN

 

DINNER WITH FOGHORN LEGHORN

For those too young to remember, or too intellectual to watch a cartoon, Foghorn Leghorn was a cartoon rooster with a very loud booming cartoon voice.

Last night, Mrs. C and I went to dinner with her sister (who picked up the tab thank you very much) at a fancy seashore restaurant. 

Fancy being you needed a reservation, and a collared shirt.

The food is always excellent, the prices not too unreasonable and the atmosphere relaxing and inviting.  We look forward to at least one night there when we are enjoying our time at the Jersey Shore.

Did I say the atmosphere was relaxing?  Well, most of the time, but not when you are dining next to a table where the conversation is dominated by Foghorn Leghorn.

Obnoxiously loud and content driven to demonstrate how wealthy, important, and fascinating he is.

“I say, when we were supping in Cambodia the most delightful event happened.  We were served pompow, I say pompow and I asked, I say son, what in tarnation is pompow, and he says it is chicken.  I say son, I say in my area of this big globe we call chicken chicken!”

I whispered to Mrs. C,

“Is that clown with the incredibly boring story as big an asshole as he sounds?”

“Pretty big…asshole, not in stature.”

“Could I kick his ass?” (Even at 78 years old most men judge other men in two categories, I could kick his ass, or I could not kick his ass…I know)

“Yes.”

I took that as an OK to be loud myself.

“SO, AS I WAS SAYING, THE OTHER DAY WHEN DRIVING MY BIG ASS BMW, I WAS STOPPED BY A COP FOR SPEEDING, I ASKED THE COP, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? HE SAID NO SIR, AND I SAID…”

“Stop it, you’re too loud and that never happened!”

“I SAID SON, I SAY I’M THE ONE WHO PAYS YOUR SALARY AND YOU DESERVE A RAISE!  HE SAYS HAVE A NICE DAY SIR AND SLOW DOWN A BIT.  YOU SEE YOU JUST HAVE TO KNOW HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE!!”

Ok I’m not that big a jerk, I only raised my voice a little to make a point, and Mrs. C quickly shushed me.

Unfortunately, Foghorn’s wife was not as concerned for other diners.  It was all we could do to have any conversation of our own.

I did quietly imitate the jerk a little and we managed a good laugh to drown out the bore so we did still have a nice time.

 

What is the proper etiquette for dealing with a loudmouth bore at a restaurant?

 

 

 

 

WHY SHIT IS SO EXPENSIVE

 

WHY SHIT IS SO EXPENSIVE

                                                                  ALL FIXED UP

OK, I apologize, that should be WHY STUFF…It is just that I am so incensed!

“What Happened, Cranky?”

I’ll tell you.

A few weeks ago, while racing from the Bowlero parking lot as I was a bit late for league warm up, I realized my key fob had fallen out of my coat and was lost in my car’s interior.

In my haste and panic when I could not find the fob, I pulled open the passenger side door to check if the fob had somehow flown into the passenger side.  (I eventually found it barely peeking underneath a seatbelt anchor cover.) When I yanked on the passenger door, it grabbed onto the front side car panel and buckled it.  The door would not operate without effort due to the door panel obstruction.

WTF?

I had no idea how this happened, but apparently the panel had been pushed ½ inch or less backwards where the passenger door would not open unobstructed.  There was no apparent damage to the car otherwise.  Not a scratch or a dent.

I had my friend who is the head mechanic for the local AAA and a borderline genius (just trust me) look at the issue.  I was informed that yes, somehow the panel had been pushed.  He estimated it would cost from $1500 to $2000 to repair.

The first shop I took it to said “Somewhere from $1500 to $2000 to fix.”

I called the insurance company.

“How did the accident happen?”

“I have no idea.”

“When did it happen?”

“Somewhere between end of March and beginning of May.  Possibly someone bumped me in a parking lot…I have no idea.”

I was told the shop I took it to had no relationship with that insurance company.

I took the car to an accredited collision shop that has a working arrangement with my insurance company.

I have $500 deductible, so what ever the cost, that is all I stood to lose.  Truth be told, if the cost was all coming out of my pocket I would have asked,

“Just pull the panel, bang out the crumple, adjust it back where it does not impede my door, and I will spray some paint over the damage so it won’t rust.” 

Probably cost me $750-$800.  With the deductible, I left it to the discretion of the insurance company and the body shop.

I was without my beloved Harvey (Honda HR-V) for two weeks.  Yesterday it was done and I picked it up.

The car is beautiful, no dings, no dents, years of minor scratches were buffed out and the car was completely detailed. 

It is now gorgeous, not that I really care that much…scratches and dents do not really bother me that much, they are inevitable.

“So why are you so incensed? It only cost you $500 and they did a great job!”

The insurance company was billed $7500 to fix a dented ½ inch moved front panel.

$7500!!!

OK, no more than $500 dollars of skin off my teeth, but damn, no wonder insurance is so dang expensive.

The shop charged for every screw and face mask, every rubber glove and every second of labor.  They adjusted shit that did not need adjusting and they painted stuff that did not need painting. 

I wonder, did the insurance agent who approved the job get a little extra in his sandwich bag?

Just got me thinking.  Where else does this sort of thing happen?

 

BTW, after further reflection, I am pretty sure the damage was done when Harvey was parked in my tiny garage almost abutted against a cabinet when New Jersey was hit with a 4.9 earthquake the shaking of which pushed Harvey’s panel.

The news reported back on April 5 that the NJ quake shook lots of people up but there was no known damage.

Apparently, they did not know of the $2000 damage to Harvey that was turned into $7500.

 

 

CRANKY THE BOTANIST

 

CRANKY THE BOTANIST

Ocean View

I am not a botanist, but I am sometimes observant and nature fascinates me.

Mrs. C and I along with occasional second and third generations of cranks and or other relatives and friend drop-ins are at our Jersey Shore rental.  The rental is a small apartment off the garage of Mrs. C’s Aunt Catherine’s home, a mere 50 yards from the beach.

This morning, I took my morning coffee to a bench overlooking the ocean.  

As beautiful and calming as an ocean view is, my eyes were drawn to the large dunes that were built after super storm Sandy many years ago.

DUNES

The dunes protect ocean front homes from rising waters. Of course, this probably ultimately directs the rising water to the bay, making those homes vulnerable to rising waters destruction.  You cannot stop water; you only redirect it…anyway that is another rant.

When they built the dunes, they also planted special grass in neat rows for the roots to grow deep and hold in the sand, which after 12 years has been pretty successful.  What caught my interest was how the fauna of the dunes has changed.

The rows of grass have lost some of their neat farm-like row quality.  Much of the grass has expired or perhaps gone dormant, seemingly in the spots that may drain rain water the fastest.  In place of the grass, several other varieties of plants, bushes or grasses have filled in to also hold the sand.

Of particular interest to me was one small patch of cacti that has taken hold. 

Cactus!

Where the heck did cactus come from?  I’m pretty sure cactus in not indigenous to New Jersey…we have zero deserts in New Jersey.

The cactus was flowering, and I know I had seen these flowers somewhere before…hmm.

Got it!

Auntie Catherine has a pot of ornamental cactus on her back deck where I sometimes BBQ dinner.  One small pot of cacti.

Apparently, the wind has carried her cactus seeds, or a bird has feasted and them pooped a seed onto this one small spot on the dune and from there a crop of cacti has taken root and spread.

Much like animals or plants get transferred across the world’s oceans on ships, tides, or birds, so has Auntie C’s cactus moved to the dunes. 

Sometimes this transfer process we declare as invasive.  Without natural enemies these migrants can change the environment. 

But are they really invasive?  Do they destroy native plants and or animals or do they just change the environment. 

The environment will eventually adapt after maybe hundreds of years.  Hundreds of years to us humans is destructive.  To nature it just is.  The world adapts.  We are just visitors and while we like to think we can control nature, we really cannot.

We can and should do our best to not harm our environment, especially as nature’s adaptive ways might necessitate our species demise, but we are not as controlling of the forces of the environment as we like to think.

Anyway, I wonder how many people will glance at these Jersey dunes in the future and wonder, “Where the Hell did the cactus come from!”

I know.

 

 

D-DAY

 

D-DAY

I don’t believe I’ve ever done anything especially brave in all my years.  I’m not a coward, I am risk adverse, but not a coward.  If called I would serve, and maybe if in different times I would have stepped up to serve.

Anyway, today is a reminder of all those who did serve.  Many voluntarily, some on demand.  All who faced the enemy on that D-Day beach reached deep for bravery I cannot imagine.

Several years ago, I attended the funeral of a friend’s father.  It was a military burial and intensely moving as those services always are.

Afterwards we went to dinner and the discussions were of course on the many exploits and attributes of a man who was truly loved by his family.

The discussion came around to his father’s service.  He apparently was one of the brave soldiers who landed on that D-Day beach and survived. 

The family spoke about how Pop never talked about the war…never.  Except recently when discussing a current movie about the D-Day invasion Pop asked only one question, with a tear in his eye,

“Did they show the blood in the water?”

Thank you for your incredible sacrifice.

PRICE GOUGING

 

PRICE GOUGING

This cranky old man is temporarily stepping out of blog retirement because I just need to vent.

 

Most people believe that our rate of inflation, the price of goods and labor, is rising at an uncomfortable rate.  No one likes inflation, especially older citizen that make do on a fixed income.

What is the cause of this inflation and what should be done to reverse the trend?  

(Actually, the trend has reversed a bit, but reversed from really too GD high, to unpleasantly GD high.)

As one who graduated with a degree in economics over 50 years ago sporting a high C- average I admit to not having a clue to a solution.

I do have a good idea as to what will not work.

I recently saw an article where politicians are calling on an end to price gouging, particularly with the cost of groceries.  The claim I read was,

“Notably, grocery prices have not fallen at the same rate as inflation. This is caused by excessive price gouging by food and grocery giants,"

Well that sounds reasonable, we just need to end price gouging by evil corporations.  Clearly if the rate of inflation falls then food prices should also fall, so there must be price gouging.

Nixon tried to stop price gouging way back with his Wage and Price freezes. 

Remember how well that worked. 

I do. 

Wages and prices were frozen and many items could not be purchased at all.  Seems many entrepreneurs were not willing to sell things at a price where they would lose money.  

Imagine that?

Funny how the law of supply and demand works so well until demand exceeds supply. Well, it still works, but no one likes it.

When the price of oil goes up, politicians blame Big Oil and price gouging.  I wonder why when oil prices drop drastically Big Oil doesn’t get a big thank you.

It’s because except in cases of monopolies or collusion, economic laws beat price gouging all day long.

By the way, that politician’s comment,

“Notably, grocery prices have not fallen at the same rate as inflation. This is caused by excessive price gouging by food and grocery giants,"

Even with a high C- in economics I know that if the rate of inflation falls from 10% to 5% it is unreasonable for prices to fall 5%.  It is reasonable to assume that prices will still rise 5%!

DUH!

But politicians think we are stupid.

Come on smart people, find a solution to inflation.  But start by not blaming price gouging.

And, to the politician who said,

“Notably, grocery prices have not fallen at the same rate as inflation. This is caused by excessive price gouging by food and grocery giants,"

Thank you, I now understand the meaning of “Gas Lighting.”

End of vent, damn that feels good!

 

 

WHY I SELDOM BLOG

 

WHY I SELDOM BLOG

I used to post every day.  I posted stories from my past.  I posted opinions.  I posted about everyday happenings around the Cranky home.

I have run out of stories from my past.  Opinions no longer promote thought and discussion; they promote judgement and anger.  Happenings around the Cranky home have already been well documented. (And often treated as if I was looking for solutions to a problem…apparently, I suck at sarcasm.)

I have also noticed a significant difference in reader reactions to my posts and in general any media articles or news items.

I sometimes go back and read old posts from 2012 to around 2017.  Posts that many, if I do say so myself, are dang funny and occasionally almost inciteful.

Comments typically used to be, “Funny Cranky” or “LOL” or “ROFLMAO” or “I know you are joking, but much of this is spot on” or “Your wife is a hoot” or “I totally disagree, but still had to laugh at some of this crap.”

Comments today would be,

“I think you meant insightful, not inciteful, unless you wanted to start a riot!”

I read an article today about 6-year-old twins, and their reaction to a present of clothes and not toys.  I expected comments on the parenting style to what I thought was a bratty child reaction.  Instead, at least 40% of the comments were on the authors apparent grammatical flaw of referring to the Twins as a “Pair of twins.” I did not even notice this flaw as I am apparently also grammatically challenged.

For instance, I still refer to pants as a pair of pants, not a pair of pant.  Or glasses as a pair of glasses, or pliers as a pair of pliers, or even scissors as a pair of scissors. (Plus, it just took me four tries to spell scissors correctly).

I should not even be allowed to post!

I think I may have just slid slightly off topic.

Point is, it seems to me that these days people do not read anything to learn, discuss, laugh, or cry. Instead, there is a tendency to be insulted, indignant or judgmental. 

People are angry. 

In our current nationwide effort to be inclusive of different people, cultures, and ideas, we have become compartmentalized finger pointing virtue signalers.

This is of course a giant generalization, but the point is it is a clear direction that we are moving towards, and I do not like the direction one bit.

 

She Needs A Deerstalker Hat and A Meerschaum Pipe I Tell Ya!

 

She Needs A Deerstalker Hat and A Meerschaum Pipe I Tell Ya!

 

Mrs. C once again has demonstrated her Sherlockian talent of clue spotting.

Today while she was at work, I had to fill out an on-line form for an oral Surgery appointment… (Bad tooth, no biggie.) The site to fill out the form was sent to my phone, so I had to fill it out on my phone.  (Yes I probably could have forwarded it to my computer except I can’t).  Anyway

One of the questions was for the phone number of my emergency contact…Mrs. C of course.  Problem was, her number is on my contact list which is on my phone which I was using to fill out the form.  (No I don’t know her actual number, I call her by telling the phone to “Call Karen, Mobile!")

OK, that’s it, no more explanation’s in parenthesis.  

So, in order to find the number, I thought maybe it would be on our landline phone.  (Well, it used to be on the phone…ok now that is the last one.)  I picked up the phone and looked.  Apparently they don't put it on the receiver anymore.

I had to dig out the number from a list in my wallet.

Later this night, Mrs. C comes to bed and glances at the phone.

“Did you use the phone today?”

“WHAT?”

“Did you use the phone today?”

“Why?”

“Because the cord was moved.”

“Holy crap!  I picked it up to look for our number which is not there to fill out a dental form.  How does the cord get moved more than an iota or two from that?”

“Apparently it does, because I could tell.”

“So, I guess if I came home with lipstick on my collar you would spot it.”

“Yes, but I might not care!”

That’s Mrs. C.  She does not miss a trick and also can put me in my place without skipping a beat.

At least she didn’t call me a JERK! 

(She has been known to call me that from time to time)

(Oops, I forgot)

(Maybe I am a Jerk!)

 

MY CAR IS POSSESSED

 

MY CAR IS POSSESSED

My 2017 Honda HRV (Harvey) is possessed!  Not repossessed, it is paid for, but possessed by some unknown force.

How is it possessed?  I have no idea.  I am the only owner, so it is not as if some previous Nere-do-well left it with some bad karma, or someone died a horrible death and the soul has not left Harvey. 

But possessed it is.

How?

Last month I left for a 4-mile drive to out local recycle center, Fort Grumpy.  (Yes, Mrs. C thinks I should get a job there too) I recycle once a week, carefully separating glass, plastic and cans, cardboard boxes, and paper into separate containers.  I’m pretty sure all this stuff ends up in the same land fill (several engineering experts in the field have confirmed this) but I still feel like I am doing something good for the environment once a week.

On the way to Ft. G. I pulled out my driver’s license and stuck it up under my sun visor.  

Our Ft. G. Grumps demand proof of residency to drop off recyclables, they are very thorough in ensuring some non-town resident cannot drop their stuff off on our center, so proof of residency is demanded.  I put it in my visor ahead of time to be “soup-nazi” prepared for the Grumps…they will yell!

Half way to the center I glanced up at my visor and the license was not there. 

What the Hell!

I pulled over and looked on the floor, the seats and even under the front seats.  Nothing!  How does a plastic license slip out of the visor and disappear without my even noticing?

I looked all over and nothing.  I drove back home for a more thorough search.  After tearing everything in the front seat apart without finding the license I turned to the back…as if a piece of plastic could slip out of a visor, fly out over the front seat and land on the floor in the back without my noticing a thing.

I found it on the floor almost under the back seat and slightly buried under assorted trash.  Impossible, and yet there it was.

Still hard to find...partially buried

Today I left for Fort Grumpy and once again stuck my ID firmly in the visor.  Once again half way to the center I looked up at the visor and …WTF!  Gone.

I Pulled over to check quickly and once again nothing.  I Drove home and checked all through the front driver and passenger side and again nothing.  I checked the back seats and there was the license.  Directly behind me.

So, without any moving of the visor, without hitting any bumps, the license somehow flew out of the visor, over my shoulder, and landed  behind the driver seat and I did not feel or see a thing.

The car is possessed I tell you!

 

Random Observations

 

Random Observations

 

Shopping with Mrs. Cranky after a painful visit with our tax accountant and I made several random observations.

ONE:

We bought a bathtub mat and some Gorilla Glue at Lowes.  We paid via self-check-out.  I hate self-check-out.  I understand at the supermarket when all 4 to 6 check-outs are busy, but…

At Lowes on a week day at 11:30 the whole giant store had about 5 shoppers.  At the self-check-out there was only Mrs. C and myself, and a Lowes employee to make sure we didn’t steal anything.  Of course, as it always seems to me, we also had to ask said Lowes employee a question about the process. 

It was nice she was there to assist, but when it is so slow, why not just have a cash register for the employee to do an old fashion check out instead of standing there watching?

TWO:

Later we passed a green gas station, “Fuel 4.”

“What the hell is a Fuel 4 gas station?”

“Why, who cares?”

“Just is that a national brand? Is it individually owned? Whose gas is it?  I mean all the big oil stations advertise their gas is the best.  Does Fuel 4 have special cleaning stuff, what is the octane, where does it come from?”

“What do you care, you don’t know the difference anyway?”

“I don’t know, it is just weird, I never heard of “Fuel 4.”

“You’re weird…and a jerk.

THREE:

Here is an observation, why are parking lot spaces so important?  Mrs. C made about three laps around the lot looking for the closest space.

“What the hell, just pick a space, you’ve passed up three spaces already!”

“It’s windy, I want to get closer.”

“You have got to be kidding…windy? Have you seen the price of gas? Time is money, gas is money, pick a damn space!”

“Just shutty! Jerk.”

FOUR:

In the supermarket some people still are wearing a face mask…well two people.  I don’t think those things ever worked for Covid, but I wore them so as to not be accused of killing Grandma.  Maybe those two were on chemo or had a reason to be extra careful, no skin off my teeth.  However, one person still did not have the mask over their nose!  Might as well tattoo “I am really stupid” across your forehead!

FIVE:

Also, this had me remembering, as my final random observation, when the supermarkets had arrows in the lanes directing only one way shopping.  At the time I thought that was stupid and said so.  I was severely chastised for that opinion and told that the arrows assured the 6-foot Covid rule.  Seemed to me that  pushing through floating Covid death breath from behind someone would be not less dangerous than crossing through it in a two-way traffic lane.  I let it go back during the Covid scare.  One-way two-way…stupid but what could it hurt.

I will now, several years later, finally get it out of my system,

Those one-way supermarket shopping lanes were really freaking STUPID!!  (Boy that felt good.)

That’s all the observations I’ve got for now.  I think I’d best just listen to Mrs. C and Shutty.

 

 

MRS. C OUTDOES HERSELF

 

MRS. C OUTDOES HERSELF

Happy Valentines Day, or as some call it, Hallmark Holiday Scam Day.

Today, Mrs. C out did herself.  Generally, for any card giving occasion, Mrs. C gets me two cards.  One is comical, the other mushy.  Today she outdid herself and I got two comicals and a mushy.

This is totally unnecessary.  

Given my relationship history, a simple posted note saying, “I don’t expect to be leaving you in the immediate future!” would make my day.

Instead, she spent $21 on cards (Used to be $3.99 a card, but I made the mistake of checking the current price on the back of the cards… yikes!) instead of said sticky note.

I mean it’s her money so…

In addition to the cards, she also managed to find a copy of the High School English writing book that I recently found out was using a Cranky Old Man blog as a homework assignment.  It must have taken an extra effort to find a used copy as it is not available new.

Very cool; thanks Mrs. C. 

                                                     The Book

The Blog

                                                                The Homework assignment

                                                                                 

As someone who hated homework assignments I am delighted to have become one.

In exchange, I got Mrs. C ONE mushy card, and a box of candy. 

I got a Russell Stover assortment.  I once got her a Whitman's Sampler and found out the Whitman's was a trigger from a past bad Valentines Day.  I have been instructed to always get Russell Stover (RS for right stuff) and not Whitman's Sampler (WS for wrong stuff).  RS/WS, Mrs. C’s instructions insure even I get it correct.

We also have reservations to a Fancy Smancy restaurant tonight, that should at least equal extra two cards if not the thoughtful book.

Happy Valentines Day Mrs. C. and thanks for not planning to leave me in the near future! (As far as I know anyway.)

 

CONTACT - Seance with the famous

 

CONTACT - Seance with the famous

 

CONTACT

This is a post from 2011, perhaps read by 7 people.  I still think it is funny, although in these days of people seeking to be offended, it might be inappropriate.

But then I’m old and I don’t care.

 

I recently attended a séance with a local psychic.  I was skeptical at the start, but it must have been real, no one could have made this stuff up.  This psychic specialized in contacting famous people.  She talked to several icons, here is a sample:

 “George Washington, is that you George?”

“Yes it’s me, would I lie?”

“George, why did you chop down that tree?”

“Actually my old man did it, Mom was pissed.  He gave me a buck and I took the rap for him.”

“What?  So you lied?”

“Whatever.”

 

 “Damn, hey, it’s Steve Irwin.  He’s mumbling, I’m not sure what he is saying, what’s that Steve, speak up.”

“A sting ray? Crikey, a fucking sting ray?”

 

“FDR, FDR over here.  Any words for the living?”

“Yes! Jonas, what took you so freaking long?”*

 

“Wow, I have Abe Lincoln, any questions for the Abe?”

“Ask him did he have any regrets.”

“Abe, any regrets?”

“Yes, I think I should have just said 87 years.  That and honestly, I should have skipped the show.”

 

“Marco Polo, is it you?”

“Yes it’s me.  Damn I explored Asia for 24 years, practically invented the modern map, and what am I famous for?  That annoying flipping kids swimming pool game!”

 

“JFK! Mr. President is there anything the USA could have done for you?”

“Don’t ask!”

“What is JFK junior so angry about?”

“Oh, he’s pissed at Sinatra.  Every time he sees him, Sinatra starts singing ‘Come Fly with Me’

 Frank; Frank it’s not that funny!”

“Oh my Lord, it’s Jesus Christ! Jesus, Jesus, are you planning a comeback?”

“Yes, and this time things will be different.  Warn everyone, when I come back don’t cross me!”

 

*(The vaccine guy…took me a while, and I wrote it.)