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Sanity prevails in SE Texas

Here’s a glimmer of good political news for those who care about such things: Sanity won the day Tuesday in a highly contentious race for a Texas House of Representatives seat in the Golden Triangle region.

State Rep. Dade Phelan, R-Beaumont, fended off a challenge by a MAGA candidate, David Covey, and won the Republican Party nomination. OK, this isn’t just a House seat that was at stake.

Phelan happens to be speaker of the Texas House. He wields tremendous power and authority over the legislative flow in the chamber. He had drawn the ire of Attorney General Ken Paxton and Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, who endorsed Covey. So had the 45th POTUS.

Phelan had the temerity to let the will of the House prevail during Paxton’s impeachment and trial in the Senate.

Consequently, Covey entered the race at Paxton’s insistence and proceeded to launch a terribly negative, smear-laden campaign against Phelan.

Here’s the question of the day: Will the sanity prevail in January 2025 when House members choose the speaker? That’s far from a done deal, as the MAGA-dominated House well could oust Phelan in favor of someone more to the liking of the far-right-wingers who occupy so many House seats.

I’m glad Phelan survived this challenge. It’s not so much that I am a fan of Phelan. I just am glad to see Paxton, Patrick and POTUS 45 come up short in this latest Republican Party rebellion.

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‘Storied’ Walton passes on

The world of college and pro basketball is filled today and for the future with stories about Bill Walton, the legendary center who died of cancer today at age 71.

Teammates at UCLA, the Portland Trail Blazers and the Boston Celtics all are saddened to hear the news. The NBA staff, along with Walton’s former colleagues at ESPN and ABC Sports all have fond memories of their years with the Big Red Head.

As long as we’re sharing stories about Walton, here’s mine.

Sometime around 1975, I happened to be at Portland International Airport. The pre-9/11 era meant anyone could go to the departure gates to send someone off. I did so that day. I can’t remember who I was delivering to the gate, but I did and then began the walk back to my car.

I heard a commotion down the hall and around the corner of terminal. I kept walking, then I made the turn down the next ramp.

That’s when I literally ran into Bill Walton, all 6-foot 11-inches of him. He was packing a guitar. He and his Trail Blazer teammates were walking to their chartered plane to fly to their next game date.

I don’t recall precisely what Walton said when my head bumped into his chest. Maybe it was “excuse me,” or “hey,” or “watch where you’re going.” Whatever. He didn’t seem angry at that moment.

He would go on to lead the Blazers to their first and (so far) only NBA title a couple of seasons later. Injuries took their toll on the big guy. He was sent to the San Diego Clippers after the 1979 season and then to the Boston Celtics where he teamed up with Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parrish to win another NBA title; he also won Sixth Man of the Year honors during that title season.

But … that was my brush with a fellow who came to my hometown with high hopes and a big promise. For a brief moment, he was able to make our NBA title dream come true.

Rest in peace, Bill Walton.

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Nothing ‘happy’ about this holiday

A good friend of mine this week posted a message that resonates loudly with me, as it should with all Americans.

Don’t wish David Norris a “happy Memorial Day,” he admonishes us. It is a holiday of commemoration, of honoring those who gave their lives in service to this country.

Norris told the story of a fellow Marine who died while serving the rest of us. They were good friends and every Memorial Day, he remembers his friend’s sacrifice.

We should remember and honor all who paid the ultimate price in service to the great nation.

I served a tour of duty in Vietnam while employed by the U.S. Army for a couple of years in the late 1960s. Every Memorial Day I recall the sacrifice of a young man who was slated to go home after he had extended his ‘Nam tour a couple of times. Jose de La Torre served in the same aviation battalion that I did; he was assigned to a Huey helicopter company and I served in a Mohawk company.

He took off one day on a mission to drop sone troops off in a landing zone. It was “routine,” or so they thought. The LZ was hot and the enemy was waiting for our ships, De La Torre died that day.

I’ve seen his name on The Wall. It still fills me with sadness to recall the exuberance of the then-young man who was going home.

So … let us honor all the men and women who paid the steepest of prices.

And as my buddy David Norris said, don’t wish anyone a happy Memorial Day.

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These weren’t ‘distinguished gentleladies’

My wife was a wise woman who used to share with me this notion: She would much rather work with men than with women.

Why? Women too often get into backbiting and back-stabbing. Kathy Anne would have none of it.

Well, my bride’s wisdom went on full display the other day in a U.S. House committee hearing that erupted into a verbal free-for-all among three female House members. It was, to say the least, shameful in the extreme.

It started when GOP Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene made a tasteless crack about the “fake eyelashes” she said interfered with Democratic Rep. Jasmine Crockett’s ability to read the legislation before her. Crockett took extreme exception to Greene’s gratuitous boorishness.

They began arguing loudly. It degenerated rapidly into an epithet-filled fit of rage between Crockett and the QAnon queen.

Then, in stepped Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez to offer her cheap assessment of the goings-on. It became a three-way shouting melee.

Committee Chairman Republican James Comer sought to gavel some order to the proceeding … to no avail.

Crockett responded to Greene by referring to her as “baby girl.” It was either AOC or Crockett — I couldn’t decipher it all among the din — who referred to Greene’s “blond hair and butch body.” I was struck at that moment by the look of confusion that came across Democratic Rep. Jamie Raskin’s mug when he heard that put down.

Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, man!

These women well might have set back the cause of feminism in politics a fair step or three with this senseless and idiotic tirade.

If only MTG had a sense of decorum befitting the office she occupies.

Now I understand fully what Kathy Anne meant.

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Should I proclaim my political allegiance?

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I have been pondering a dilemma I have been facing during this election season, which is to what extent to what extent do I want to wear my political allegiance.

For decades I have forgone the displaying of yard signs at my home and bumper stickers on my vehicles. The answer is obvious: I was a journalist, and my craft presumes that its practitioners take an unsigned oath to keep our allegiance to ourselves.

I honored that pledge religiously for nearly four decades. To be frank, even though I am no longer employed by a media company, I am inclined to keep my pledge intact. I will stipulate that I do contribute freelance articles for a group of weekly newspapers in Collin County, but I am not on any payrolls. That means I am free to speak my mind … if I so choose.

I do write on this blog about my political leanings. You know, for instance, that I support President Joe Biden’s re-election. I oppose vehemently and viscerally the election of the presumed Republican presidential nominee, whose name I have been boycotting any mention on this blog.

I’ll need to stipulate that I know emotions run high on both sides of the chasm. Except that I never — not ever! — would damage anyone’s property if they decided to display a sign supporting the former Liar/Philanderer/Idiot in Chief.

Therefore, my angst at displaying my own allegiance has everything to do with how those on the other side might react.

To be candid, I dislike surrendering my First Amendment right to speak freely and peaceably about my government and the politics that produce our elected leadership. Yes, I am able to do so on this forum and for that I am grateful the founders granted us all that right. I just cannot take that expression to the next level, which would be to display a sign at my home or on my vehicle.

It’s just too weird out there … you know?

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Highway crew goes over the line

As a general rule I am not inclined to gripe about the Texas highway department’s construction crews.

I am making an exception based on an experience I had today.

I was returning home from a quick trip to Beaumont, where I paid my respects at the funeral of a dear friend. I was driving north along U.S. Highway 69 through the Piney Woods; I veered onto a toll road and got back onto U.S. 69 south of Greenville.

That’s when it happened. A highway repair crew had stopped traffic because it had become a one-lane right-of-way. I pulled in at the end of a long line of northbound traffic. I could peer toward the head of the line to see the end of the southbound traffic. I noticed the last vehicle.

Our line started to move About a dozen vehicles got through. Then the flagger put the “STOP” sign up. We waited — hold on for this one — for roughly 40 minutes. No one moved through the site. Our line behind me backed up maybe more than a mile. I imagined that the southbound line of vehicles was just as long. Finally, the crew let the southbound vehicles through.

Finally, the end of that flow appeared, and we got through the site. The flagger was waving at us as we drove through. To be brutally candid, I was tempted to give that person the finger … but I didn’t.

I didn’t check my watch, but I am certain I was stopped dead on the highway for an hour.

Holy cow, man! I was beat from the drive from Beaumont. The last thing in this entire world I wanted to do was sit in stopped traffic because a Texas highway department road crew couldn’t manage the flow properly.

There. I’m done. Yes, I feel better now.

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What is MTG trying to do?

No need to answer the question I have posed in the headline … I believe I know what she is up to.

Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene is trying to make as much noise as possible, to disrupt the legislative flow in the People’s House and to prevent Congress from actually governing, which the Constitution allows it to do as a co-equal partner in the federal government.

MTG is a two-term congresswoman from Georgia who has managed to elbow her way to Americans’ attention simply because she is a certifiable nut job. I am left to wonder: How in the world did she get elected in the first place and then re-elected two years later?

She is calling for a motion to vacate the speakership held by fellow Republican Mike Johnson. Greene isn’t likely to succeed in the motion. It’s not that I really give a damn about Johnson. He is a MAGA cultist, just like Greene. His “sin” is that he has shown a desire to work with Democrats to actually legislate.

MTG will keep yammering, bellowing and carrying on. She will continue to obstruct in that bellicose manner she employs.

She also will continue to garner attention from folks like me who wonder: How does the House fulfill its constitutional duty to govern when it contains wackos like this?

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POTUS to debate … him?

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Joe Biden kinda/sorta put it on the record, which is that he will debate the likely Republican Party presidential nominee before we cast ballots this coming November.

No date, place or format has been decided, President Biden told Howard Stern. OK. Fine.

Work it out. Do I want the president to debate POTUS No. 45? I guess so, but I am not thrilled about it.

It’s not so much that I worry about the president’s ability to exchange views with the ex-Liar in Chief. It’s that Americans aren’t likely to learn anything new about (a) why POTUS 45 is unqualified and unfit for office or (b) what policies Biden will articulate.

Joe Biden is making the case for his re-election. His immediate predecessor, though, is making the case that he shouldn’t be found anywhere near the Oval Office ever again.

I fear that a one-on-one debate between these men will be an exercise in futility.

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Peeking back in time

CESKY KRUMLOV, Czech Republic — My friends Martin and Alena invited me to visit them shortly after I lost my bride, Kathy Anne.

I had intended to see them in their house and get reacquainted with their children. To be honest, I wasn’t prepared to see the sights Martin and I saw over the past two days in this marvelous community tucked in the heart of the region known as Bohemia.

Church steeples reach into the sky. Apartment buildings reek with charm. The Moldava River courses through the city. And castles are, well … they’re damn near everywhere.

I got a look back at a community that still bristles with life long after its so-called heyday in the 15th century. Tourists come here now with cameras in hand. Martin informed me that by summer, say in July and August, the streets become virtually impassable as they will be clogged with tourists.

Driving is not allowed in the market area. You have to park in a lot outside the city on the other side of a moat that surrounds one of the castles.

I am thrilled to have gotten a look at this place. I had a bowl of pho — which is a sort of hearty soup served in Vietnam., We ate well. Maybe a bit too well, if you get what I mean.

We had a great time walking along the stone streets and enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of a community that knows no end to its existence.

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Eiffel Tower looms large

PARIS — Mission accomplished, but it took some doing.

My large Airbus 330 jetliner landed at Charles de Gaulle International Airport right on time. The task that lay before me, though, proved daunting in the extreme.

I had to find my way out of the airport. It was my first time visiting this terminal. I didn’t know my way. I saw countless “Exit” and “Sortie” signs guiding me ostensibly out of the airport. I must’ve walked many miles before I finally found an exit sign that actually pointed directly to the outdoors.

I found a cab stand. I told the cabbie “Eiffel Tower, sie vous plais.” Yes, he agreed.

I’ll need to stipulate that I do not speak French and he didn’t speak English. I asked him as plainly as I knew how if he could bring me back to the airport once I took a look at the Tower. He thought I asked him to return directly to the airport. So … he did.

I had tell him, “No, Eiffel Tower.” He sighed and returned to taking me to the one-time manmade wonder of the world.

The traffic, to say the very least, was unbearable. But we got there. I snapped a selfie … which I’ll post later.

But I am proud to say that I have actually visited Paris, France — if only briefly,

What a thrill!

One more thing: the cabbie couldn’t wait for me. He left after I paid him and I hailed another taxi for the ride back to de Gaulle Airport. The trip back was far less stressful than the one I took out of there.