Longmire....a review.

I've gotten hooked on another show thanks to Netflix. It's called Longmire. It's a western, and after just a few episodes, I'm all in. It isn't a Netflix original, they just picked it up when TNT or A&E dropped the show, not for bad ratings, but the wrong ratings. See, Longmire has an extremely devoted fan base  consisting of primarily men between the ages of 55-60, not the sort of free-spending demographic that advertisers are looking for. Netflix wisely picked it up and it's now being introduced to a new and even larger group of viewers. So, why do men find the show so appealing? If you're thinking it's because of lots of gory violence, and hot women, scantily clad, parading across the screen, you are mistaken. I can't speak for everyone, but this man loves the show because of the...men.

The show centers around the sheriff of a small Wyoming town named Walt Longmire. He's middle aged, built like John Wayne, always has a 5 o'clock shadow, needs a haircut, and stubbornly refuses to carry a cellphone. He's also a damaged soul, having lost his wife to cancer, under mirky circumstances a year before the show begins. Although clearly struggling with the pain of his loss, as a sheriff, he is a no nonsense old school lawman, incorruptible, with the instincts of Sherlock Holmes, but with a much smaller vocabulary. Longmire doesn't talk a lot and when he does its at a low volume. He thinks before he speaks, constantly working a crime scene over with his sad eyes, which comes in handy, since his small Wyoming town has a murder rate that would make Chicago look like a Kindergarten.

But the sheriff has a friend, the Indian owner of the local bar. They go back a long way, mysteriously so, since I just started season two and don't know the full back story. Henry seems to be the moral North Star of the show, wise and discerning, and serves as the de facto representative of the local Cheyanne population on the nearby reservation. The Indian population in Longmire is neither overly virtuous or particularly honorable. Like everyone else, there's the good and the bad, and this show is about good guys and bad guys, not the privileged and the victimized. The friendship between Walt and Henry will be recognizable to real men, and it is the one aspect of the show that draws me, and I dare say goes a long way in explaining its popularity in my demographic.

Then there's Walt's young, ruggedly good looking deputy, Branch, he of the cocky grin and just under the surface entitlement. Did I mention that the kid is running against Walt for sheriff in the upcoming election? Yeah, there's that. Oh, and he's also sleeping with Walt's daughter. That can't be good!

But the show is not all men, all the time. There's a female deputy, Vic, a transplant from Philladelphia, who is a delight to watch. She's impulsive to Walt's deliberate, she's the fast talker to Walt's laconic style, and the two of them seem to have the beginnings of a platonic crush on each other which is kind of adorable.

Each week, along with the undercurrent of something foreboding and mysterious from the past, there's a murder to solve. There are no pyrotechnics, no zombie invasions, no race cars...just boots, dusty jackets, cowboy hats and lots of hat hair. But mostly, there are real men, not the cardboard cutout variety that Hollywood is famous for, the workaholic, one dimensional, detached, idiot fathers who populate sitcoms from coast to coast. These are the kind of men we used to watch back when westerns were all the rage. Walt Longmire is essentially an updated Matt Dillon. If you don't know who Matt Dillion is, then you probably won't like the show. But that's ok, Modern Family comes on in a few minutes!

Hating This Weather

Not a huge fan of this week's weather forecast, clouds and rain for the next four days being the kind of conditions under which mental health disorders thrive, like mosquitos in a swamp. Little Oprhan Annie doesn't sing, "the clouds will roll in, tomorrow, tomorrow ." Murder mysteries don't begin with the line, "it was a bright and sunny day." Still, complaining about the weather is the second biggest waste of time in history,(behind Words With Friends), so I suppose I should move on to something more upbeat.

My troubled shoulder has suddenly gotten much better and it started its rehabilitation at the precise time that my doctor scheduled me for an MRI. That's how things work in medicine. So, I will feel foolish laying there next Monday for thirty minutes, spending $500 with virtually no pain in the shoulder. However, as if on cue, my neck has returned to its position at the top of my ailment list with a vengeance, as if it has resented being ignored for the last few weeks. My eight visit flirtation with Chiropratic is over, as I can no longer justify the expenditure of $69 per visit for treatment which made no discernible difference one way or the other. 

With all this money I'm forking over, you might think that I am one of the 30 million uninsured Americans who democratic politicians are constantly yammering about. But, no...I'm just a self-employed business owner who made an economic decision to go with one of those high deductible plans in order to keep my monthly premium below four digits. Doing so saved me about $4000 a year, or $500 dollars more than my out of pocket maximum. With any luck at all, I'll reach that maximum on or around December the 15th, giving me some serious Cadillac coverage for the final fifteen days of the year!! You watch, I bet Pam and I will be healthy as horses over Christmas! THANKS, OBAMA!

But seriously, any year when I never actually use my health insurance is a very good year in the Dunnevant home. 

The Pope and a Bike Race

Two things happened this past week. There was a big important bicycle race going on in Richmond, and the Pope came to America. I will now compare and contrast.

The bike race is huge, or so we keep being told by the event organizers. The UCI Road World Championships is the second biggest world event in cycling, topped only by the Tour de France. Much of the city has been cordoned off. Traffic has been rerouted away from the course. Area schools were closed. VCU cancelled classes for the entire week. Downtown restaurants hired extra staff preparing for the onslaught of bike fan customers. Richmond 2015 had expected over 450,000 spectators to view the exciting event over the nine days of the race. Churches set up booths to help the tens of thousands of foreign tourists expected to be stumbling around the cobble-stoned streets of the Fan. This event was going to be the latest big thing to cement Richmond's growing reputation for being the up and coming hip city. I mean, what's more hip than a sporting event that's huge...in Europe? So far, no official attendance count has been published by Richmond 2015. However, the anecdotal evidence is not encouraging. There are reports of strategically positioned restaurants along the course who went to the expense of hiring extra staff only to go an entire day serving only seven customers. A headline on CBS 6's website blares, "SHOCKED" local businesses disappointed with UCI bike race sales, hope for big weekend." That big weekend will feature two days of rain...heavy at times.

Unlike the sparse crowds and empty streets of Richmond, the rest of the country has been teeming with the faithful straining for a glimpse of the Pope. The Pontif made his first ever visit to America this week, and has been greeted like a rock star by everyone from the media to the President of the United States. He became the first Pope to address a joint session of Congress, and when the picture of the event hit social media, a meme soon was born showing Francis standing in front of all of the senators and congressmen with the line...POPE VISITS THE SICK. His reception by the American media has been overwhelmingly positive, breathtakingly adoring, as if finally the press has found someone about whom nothing negative can be said. Over a million people are expected at a Mass he will give in Philladelphia. Within a week he will release his first spoken word album, a certain Grammy winner. There are Pope cookies for sale, even a special Pope inspired beer lineup at Pubs in the city of brotherly love with names like redemption ale, sacrament lager, and a spirited IPA called the holy confession! If there exists anyone who doubts the Pope's holy credentials, one only need witness his greatest miracle yet...keeping Donald Trump out of the news for three days!

Ok, what do these two seemingly disparate events have in common?

They both are European imports.

They both are loved by all the really cool people.

They are both into encyclicals.

So, how are they different from each other?

Americans seem to really care about the Pope.

If the Pope comes to your city, it's actually great for business.

The Pope has never been accused of doping.

But, seriously, what is a Protestant Christian like me supposed to think of all this Pope business? Honestly, I don't know. Obviously, I'm not buying this infallible baloney, and no, he's not the Vicar of Christ, and when I see the way he is worshipped by some, it strikes me as an awful lot like idolatry. When he starts getting into politics, my unenamored eyes start to roll, since he sounds more like Karl Marx than even Karl Marx! However....something in my heart tells me that he is a great man. I see his smile and feel the love that he has for people and it's inspiring. His tendency to resist the high and
mighty in favor of the common man can teach us all a thing or two about humility. When I read of his words about grace and forgiveness and the way he encourages his bishops to pray more and preen less, my soul is moved to agreement, and challenged to do so myself. The bottom line is, I don't have to agree with this Pope about everything. I don't even have to agree with his church about exactly who he is. But I can still be thankful for him and his witness and pray for his protection and success. If that seems contradictory to some, I get it. That's ok. It wouldn't be the first time I believed contradictory things. In that way I have something in common with Pope Francis...neither of us are infallible!

In The Long Run

I had a long technology-assisted political conversation with my son yesterday. We disagreed on a lot. He made some good points. I made some good points. But, we still disagreed. Our disagreement wasn't on strategy, but rather tactics. We both want mostly the same thing...a better country. Our differences come with how best to make the country better. My primary concern seems always to be the precarious, house-of-cards condition of our national finances. He, on the other hand, always assures me that his favored solutions will either actually save us money, or will be cheaper in the long run. Ahh yes...the long run.

I have been paying attention to politics and finance for the better part of 35 years now, and if I had a dime for every time I heard a politician promise that his bill would wind up saving money in the long run, I could retire right now. To give but one example, back when Medicare was introduced in 1965, its proponents predicted that by 1990 the total cost for the program would run around 19 billion dollars. It wound up being 110 billion, but luckily most of the politicians who made the 1965 prediction were all safely dead. 

So when your preferred presidential candidate in 2015 begins touting his or her proposals as "cost savers" you better grab ahold of your wallet. History hasn't been kind to government budget forecasters from either party. What evidence do I have for this? Well, I've got 18 trillion articles of evidence. Right now the bill for the interest on that debt gobbles up 7% of the budget. Imagine how fast that percentage will climb when the FED has to start raising interest rates? Right now the Congressional Budget Office projects (there's that word again! ) that interest payments on the debt will be the fastest growing part of the federal budget. Nice.

Despite our debt woes and our inability to balance our budget, politicians from both parties are still quite eager to dream up more wonderful ways to spend money on an entire laundry list of projects, all that will actually save us money in the long run. Ok, alright. I get it, I really do. If you make your living driving trucks, you...drive trucks. If you make your living as a politician, you...spend other people's money. So, since that fact of Washington life will never change, how about we add a new requirement for all politicians. Any new government program that requires new spending authorization will only be permitted to the extent that an existing spending authorization is eliminated. For example, if candidate A. proposes a 10 billion dollar plan to provide, oh, I don't know...flat screen televisions to the blind working poor, then in order for the bill to pass, he  or she will have to propose eliminating a 10 billion dollar military base in Guam, or cancel 10 billion dollars from the IRS Christmas party budget. Now, this won't  actually pay down the debt, but it will stop the bleeding and force our leaders to prioritize. Are there constructive things that the government can do to help people? Yes, of course, but first how about we shut down the Federal Helium Reserve, or maybe stop spending 300 million dollars on a blimp for the Army, only to decide we didn't need it after all? Or how about we ask General Electric, one of the richest companies in the world to actually pay taxes, or maybe Facebook shouldn't be getting 300 million dollar tax refunds from the IRS.

But Doug, but Doug, you're talking about 10 billion dollars in a 3.4 Trillion dollar budget. That's peanuts! Yes, I know. But, 10 billion here, 10 billion there and pretty soon you're talking about some real money! And in the long run, you wake up one day and you're $18,000,000,000,000.00 in the hole.

Momentum

Over the years I have learned that life is largely about...momentum, at least my life seems to be. I get swept up in an idea or some interest and the newness of it captivates me, resulting in a burst of energy and enthusiasm. That energy can last weeks or even months, but the minute it leaves me, the project is done, dead as a door nail.

This time last year I had just finished writing a novel. I started in February and finished it in August. For those seven months it was never very far from my thoughts. It didn't feel like work. It was as much fun as I've ever had writing anything. Loved every minute of it. When I was done, a two month proof reading and editing phase began during which time I plotted and schemed trying to find a way to get it published.

Then something amazing happened. The momentum that had carried the project forward for nine months disappeared into thin air. I never saw it coming and to this day can't remember how it happened. All I know is, my other life came roaring back with a vengeance. I got busy with other things. One of the other things was the book I wrote about my parents, Finishing Well. I was in a rush to get that one self published to have it ready to give to my family at Christmas. But when that was done, I never followed through with doing anything with the novel. It was as if after building it into a finished product, it was now too heavy to get moving again from a dead stop, kind of like a freight train full of coal that's sitting still. Momentum.

Now, the manuscript sits in the bottom drawer of my nightstand, neatly typed, held together with a mighty black metal clip. The cover page has the title...A Life of Dreams, and that's exactly what it feels like to me now...a dream. Now, I've got the itch to write another one. Why? Because it's incredibly exciting and great fun to create something. But inspiration meets up with perspiration rarely in this life, so most of the time nothing gets followed through. That's why the old prophets said, "the end of a thing is better than it's beginning." After all is said and done, more gets said than done.

So, there it sits, safely in my night stand. Maybe, twenty years after my death, my kids will find the thing in an attic somewhere, get it published and I'll become a famous and celebrated dead novelist!

Walker's Out. Who's Next?

Scott Walker, Govenor of Wisconsin has "suspended" his campaign for President, which is the new word candidates use instead of "quit." He joins another Govenor, Rick Perry of Texas, who suspended his campaign a few weeks ago. The whittling down of the  republican field has begun.

That leaves us with 13 official candidates if you count Lindsey Graham who swears up and down that he's running for President and has a web site and everything! It also includes a former Governor of my state, Jim Gilmore, who may or may not have a website, since absolutely no one has ever checked.

So, the question then becomes, who will drop out next? When I casually informed my wife of the news that Scott Walker was out, her reply was, "Scott..who?" I hold my wife's political instincts in high regard precisely because she isn't all that interested in it and because of that she is very much like the average voter. She isn't totally disinterested, or even uninformed, she just has a life outside of politics, like most of us who don't live inside the beltway. She is the type of person that all of these candidates have to win over if they want to become President. They can win the nomination without people like her, but not the big prize. So, when Pam can't remember Scott Walker's last name despite watching both debates...well, that explains his exit. So, who "suspends their campaign" next?

The easy answer would be the less than 1% guys like Graham, Gilmore, Pataki, etc.. But they can be tricky. When you're that pathetic, you don't have much of a payroll to start with, so you can last a bit longer. Plus, these people aren't really running to win, they're running for a variety of other reasons. For some, it's to enhance their speaking fees,(Graham), or help them sell a book,(Huckabee), or the burning desire to be relevant again,(Pataki). For a guy like Gilmore, it's something to do to get him out of the house.

Of the top tier candidates then:

1. Rand Paul. He looks miserable on the stump, like he can hardly stand having to compete with an idiot like Mike Huckabee for campaign cash. And speaking of money, his has about dried up. His libertarian moment has passed, and the American people will never elect a guy who never smiles. We prefer happy warriors. Paul smirks too much, and it's hard for people to connect with a smirker, no matter how smart or right he is.

2. John Kascich. He's the John Huntsman of 2016, every democrat's favorite republican. He's got lots of experience in government, as both a Congressman and Governor, which is good or bad, I suppose,
depending on how well connected you want your President to be. As a moderate, he's that rare republican candidate that gets sympathetic press coverage, but republican voters have always been rightly suspicious of any candidate that the press likes, sensing that it's a trap.

3. Chris Christie. Again, my wife had a great observation the other night.."How is it that Chris Christie is damaged goods because of that bridge-gate thing, and yet Hillary Clinton mishandles classified e-mails and the press hardly bats an eye?" Why indeed? Actually the question answers itself. Quick, name the last republican candidate to be endorsed by the New York Times? Times up! Christie showed a lot of promise in 2015, but that was a long time ago in politics. 

4. Mike Huckabee will finally bow out after he thinks he has sold enough books or put himself in a better negotiating position with Fox for a new show...and not a minute earlier!! His exit from the campaign will be mourned by... no one.

That leaves us with six serious candidates...Trump, Bush, Carson, Fiorina, Cruz and Rubio.

You heard it here first.

Pam Was Right. I Was Wrong....Again!

 I know this will be very difficult for many of you to believe, but apparently I have a couple of annoying personality traits that irritate the dickens out of my wife. This past weekend one of them was on full display. The annoying personality trait of which I speak concerns my tendency towards over confidence, especially when it comes to self-diagnosing. Let me try to explain...

Ok, readers of this blog are aware that the past few months have visited upon me a plague of back, neck and shoulder problems. The most recent visitation involves a mysteriously cranky right shoulder, which feels an awful lot like my left shoulder felt two years ago right before I had rotator cuff surgery. For a week and a half now, the shoulder has started out the day virtually pain free only to gradually get tighter and more painful as the day wears on until by bedtime I am about ready to bite down firmly on stick while Pam saws my arm off! Well...this past Friday, I had a very good day. No, I had not been divinely healed, but searing pain had been transformed to mildly annoying discomfort. So, when I woke up Saturday morning pain free, my over confident, self diagnosing thing kicked in. I informed the wife that I was planning to take Lucy over to the track behind Pocohontas Middle School and throw the frisbee, then come home and cut the grass. It was then when she shot me...the look. 

My wife is too kind of a person to truly launch into someone, so she starts out with a heavy sigh and begins shaking her head from side to side, "Honey, just because you've had one decent day doesn't mean that the last eight days of pain didn't happen! There's something wrong with your shoulder, and you're not helping it by doing everything you always do on a Saturday! You need to REST YOUR SHOULDER!" At that point I began assuring her that I would take it easy and not try to do too much, which to her ears sounds an awful lot like...lies.

After around twenty minutes or so at the track the shoulder began to hurt a little. I made what I felt was an adult, mature, responsible decision to cut our play time short and head back home. When I came into the house Pam was getting ready to go for her morning walk. I smiled and told her that she had been right, but hadn't I been smart for coming home instead of pushing it? Oddly, she was not happy with what I thought was quite a victory. Instead, she huffed past me, without so much as an "it's about time!!"

Then, I made a really stupid decision. There's probably nothing I enjoy more than working on my yard. I know it sounds weird, but I love to cut the grass...and my lawn was crying out to me. But then I remembered Pam's warning about doing too much. It was then that I came up with what in hindsight was a pretty stupid idea. What I was searching for was a way to cut the grass without violating the letter of the law that Pam had laid down. So, my brilliant solution was...I'll cut the entire yard...LEFT HANDED.

There probably isn't any need for me to tell you what happened next. Pam was NOT happy when she returned from her walk to find me mowing the lawn awkwardly with my left hand on the handle, struggling to keep the mower in a straight line. Let's just say that it made for some tense moments later at dinner on date night.

I really don't know what's wrong with me when it comes to this sort of thing. I always manage to convince myself that I am cured of any ailment the minute I can go ten minutes without any symptoms. Part of it is from personal experience, since in ancient times it used to sometimes work...back when I was twenty. The hardest thing on earth for me to do, besides sitting still in church and/or business meetings, is convalescing. Rest isn't as easy as it sounds. 

But, unfortunately, Pam was right. Sunday morning, the shoulder pain was back and it got steadily worse throughout the day and this morning it's unpleasant as well. So, she was right. I was wrong. Again. To her everlasting credit, she hasn't yet started with the "I told you so's"