Hubbard Conservative Surrenders to Clintonistas

J. D. Phellps, owner/operator, and part time philosopher, at the Hubbard City Gas Station, chose July 4th to hoist a white flag above his station. When questioned by Aunt Martha for her Hubbard City News publication, the totally distraught oil man said, "I have completely and totally surrendered with no demands, terms, or conditions. I am at my wit's end, and unable to continue the fight against Liberals."

J. D. is a long time Conservative and has never voted anything but a straight Republican ticket---- until now.

As the flag unfurled in the Central Texas breeze, Aunt Martha could barely make out the tear stained writing:

PLEASE BRING BACK BILL CLINTON

Think about it,

Jim

A Story about a Retiree's Greedy Use of the Public's Energy in Central Texas

A friend from Waco was given this information about a Dentist who retired to a rural area and shared the following story. A story that is so relevant today as American's greedily waste the government's precious energy while polluting the atmosphere causing the 4th of July to be our warmest holiday. This story could happen to any of us "handy guys" unless the Environmental Protection Agency, led by our new President, provides us more protection.

The Dentist's Story

"We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in rural areas because of the Meth Labs. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence. Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way. It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all. Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.

Time stood still. The first thing I notice is my male organ trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot have a BM, urinate, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences ... but Dad always had those little chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.

This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. 'Damn!,' I think, as I remember I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. I think 'Oh God please die ... Pleeeeaze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot. So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day ... he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created. I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire ...I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas.

It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire. Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things: 1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted. 2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right). 3- My left eye will not open. 4- My right eye will not close. 5- The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that. 6- I can turn on the TV in the game room by expelling gas while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this???).

That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow. The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow."

As we approach our Independence Day Celebration President Obama joins us all in asking the simple and patriotic question, "How might our government stop each and everyone of us from wasting the government's energy and sending unwanted bodily emissions into our environment by increasing government revenues without calling it a tax unless the waster makes over $250, 000 or is at least a white male?".

Here's to you, algore,

Jim

A Small Story About a Big Saturday Night at Carl's Corner

Scott and Pat Riddle, cattle baron and baroness, Sue Hammock, and I went to Carl's Corner located on I35 between Hillsboro and Dallas on Saturday night two weeks ago (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_dyhCY9At0&feature=related). We were there to see Billy Roy Michum's band. He was performing in the impressive Willie Nelson Theatre, and drew a very nice crowd. By the way, Billy Roy does Merle Haggard better than Merle.

We were able to visit with many locals since BR is from Hubbard. One told me a story about Scotty Anderson who grew up bagging groceries at his dad's store. A frequent customer was a self proclaimed unemployed musician whose wife paid all the bills while really working hard at multiple jobs and raising several children.

When Scotty asked how the self proclaimed gentleman pulled this off, his answer was "she makes the living, and I make the living good."

As fate would have it, that is not all the gentleman made. He had two, not one but two, sons who became starters in the National Football League.

By the way, Billy Roy is about 5 years my junior which enbled me to sell him my slightly used motor skooter a few years back. OK, maybe more than a few years back. OK, maybe more than slightly used. But I digress.

Think about "making the living good" for someone and you may get really special results,

Jim

Hubbard's Favorite Pastime

Hubbard has an ongoing love affair with the game of baseball. It all started with a centerfielder known as the Grey Eagle. Tris Speaker started his professional baseball career at the age of 18 fresh off the dusty diamond in Hubbard as he signed with Cleburne in he Texas League. In 1920 he took the Boston Red Sox (Correction from Tris's nephew: the Cleveland Indians) to the World Championship as a player and manager at the young age of 32.

Tris, playing with Boston and Cleveland, had a lifetime batting average of .345 over a 22 year career and is generally recognized as the best fielding centerfielder of all time. Many of his playing years resulted in his batting average finishing second only to Ty Cobb. Tris beat Cobb one year. He was the first person elected to the Texas Sports Hall of Fame and was the seventh person voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

After baseball, Tris was one of the few friends of a very difficult Ty Cobb. They thoroughly enjoyed suckering oil men in Dallas and Ft. Worth into big money golf games. Tris also served in retirement as a part owner and executive of the Cleveland Indians baseball team and lived on his ranch in Hubbard until his death.

When Hubbard folks talk baseball they generally argue about their favorites. One of those frequently mentioned is a pitcher who played many years in the Black Leagues before going to the Majors. His name was Satchel Paige, and he was known as much for his wisdom as for his phenomenal record and longevity. His famous quotes included the following:

Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.

Pick a spot and throw it there because the home plate don't move.

Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you.

Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines.

Nothin helps the body like a few no hitters.

Win some,
Lose some,
Some get rained out,
But you got to dress for all of em.

Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it don't matter.

Sound advice even if you don't play baseball,

Jim

P. S. As this blog went to press we received the tragic news of the Great University of Texas baseball team losing the final game of the College World Series in Omaha, Neb.

The University of Texas was plagued by injuries, poor health care, global warming, illegal immigration across the Louisana border, high winds, umpires with cajun accents, bad hops as wild as a drunken coonass in the French Quarter on a Saturday night, and a rawdy pack of fans expelling CO2 after serious episodes of really bad cajun cooking.

Final score: THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS 4, lsu 11.

The Cafe Reacts to A Fraternity Brothers Trip to Costco

One of my college fraternity brothers sent me this letter which I shared with my Hubbard City Cafe coffee team:

A TRIP TO Costco

Yesterday I was at my local COSTCO buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Biscuit, the Wonder Dog and was in the checkout line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think - I had an elephant? So since I'm retired and have
little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was
starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn't,
because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50
pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out
of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that
it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply
eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally
complete so it works well and I was going to try it again.. (I have to
mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with
my story.) Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because
the dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff
an Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.

Costco won't let me shop there anymore.

Sincerely Yours,

RRR

The folks at the cafe had the following questions and comments:

1. Just what do people do in one of those fraternities?
2. Were you in the same one as George Bush?
3. Which do you think is the best: Costco or Wall Mart?
4. The way these young people drive today with those cell phones in their ears, you got to be real careful stepping off curbs.
5. Boy, that Purina company has done really well, haven't they.

Think about eating healthy,

Jim

I'm OK, You're OK, America Sucks

Sound familiar? This appears to be our new leader's battle cry around the world. And then he votes PRESENT and moves to the next TV screen. That is what came out of the Hubbard City Cafe talks this past week. It is reported to have gone something like this.

There appears to be a pattern when trouble breaks out anyplace in the world between bad guys and good guys. The pattern is that we can not get involved, nor even criticize the bad guys, because we are so flawed ourselves. And secondly, if we take sides, we will only help the bad guys. Now isn't that convenient for the leader of a party that never saw a world conflict where they would not run and hide (Iraq, Viet Nam, South America, Cuba, North Korea, and watch out Afghanistan, Iran, Mexico, and Israel).

Maybe Obama is one of these new "I've got your back guys". Butch Jackson, local fact finder and philosopher, was holding court from table 3 at the Cafe about this back stuff. He said that he thought folks said that because you couldn't see back there on whether they were helping or not. He also sorta wants his real friends to help "up front" as well. He says he has more things exposed up there than in the back anyway.

They got me thinking about it,

Jim

At Last: The Czar and Keynesian Theory Connection Exposed

The ongoing discussion about Scott Riddle's cattle expelling gas and causing Global Warming in downtown Hubbard continues. This weekend (that would be Saturday only) Scott fired back by sending a note to the Drug Store Liberals copying the City Cafe Conservatives. Note that the Dairy Queen Moderates were left out again because, if you remember, nobody likes them.

The note said, "These are cows. That's why they smell like cows. They smell like money to me. Get over it. Don't like it? I-20 and I-30 go east and west I-45 and I-35 goes north and south. Pick one and get the hell out of here. You guys act like a bunch of Communists."

The Communist word really sets them off at the Cafe. Seems like that is always at least a "three cup" topic. Billy Roy Meechum says, "it seems like Socialist don't mind these Czars as long as they work for the Socialist." Not having the exact figure, he thinks our new leader (Billy Roy's not sure what name the President is using these days) has appointed more than a dozen czars already, and "he ain't even warmed up yet."

Local banker and infrequent coffee drinker, Doyle Lee Wholeman, seems to always attend when the group needs some economic input. Doyle Lee knows economics, "In his early career John Maynard Keynes taught that a country could spend its way out of depression into prosperity, and that is the legacy he left."

He was just warming up, "But near the end of his life he repudiated his own prior views after witnessing the failure of state socialism in the USSR saying, “Lenin is said to have declared that the best way to destroy the Capitalist System was to debauch the currency. By a continuing process of inflation, governments can confiscate, secretly and unobserved, an important part of the wealth of their citizens. There is no subtler, no surer means of overturning the existing basis of society than to debauch the currency. The process engages all the hidden forces of economic law on the side of destruction, and does it in a manner which not one man in a million is able to diagnose.”

Doyle Lee thinks one man's inflation is another man's deflation and that Hubbard will get the short end of that stick.

As is usual, there weren't many questions when Doyle finished speaking. In fact, what usually follows is Lewis Glenn Teagle saying, "how about them Horns?".

Think about it,

Jim