Get ready to rumble!

Carlos Cuellar sought to issue a word of caution to his fellow Princeton school board  trustees prior to their vote on a resolution aimed at federal education policies.

They should be prepared to fight a long battle in the courtroom, he said. Not to be deterred, the board voted unanimously to send a resolution denouncing Biden administration policies on Title IX, the 50-plus-year-old law that sought to prevent discrimination against female student-athletes.

The battle has morphed into something quite different these days and Princeton has joined the fight against what it believes is an effort to allow males to compete with females and for males to use female restrooms.

I am going to keep my opinions on this matter to myself, as I cover it for the Princeton Herald. I am willing, though, to echo Cuellar’s observation about what lies ahead for the school system.

There will be lots of litigation. I mean to say it might not end in the foreseeable future.

Trustee Duane Kelly said he is prepared to fight. So are the rest of the board. I cannot speak for the community as a whole, because I do not know Princeton well enough yet, given that I’ve lived here a mere five years.

This is a new era in public education, to be sure. Title IX was enacted to prevent educational institutions from discriminating against women. It sought to provide equal opportunities for women to compete athletically and in other extracurricular activities.

Now we’re talking about allowing transgendered students to compete alongside people of their chosen gender, rather than against those who are of the same gender at the time of their birth.

Complicated? Yeah … do ya think?

Pardon, or no pardon?

What is a man to do when he holds the highest office in the land and his son is facing possible prison time if he is convicted of a federal crime involving drugs and the purchase of a firearm?

Does he pardon the son …. or not?

Hunter Biden, son of President Joe Biden, might get a 25-year prison sentence if a jury convicts him on all counts stemming from his purchase of a gun while he was being treated for drug addiction. The issue, as I understand it, is whether he lied about the drug use when he bought the gun.

Meanwhile, Daddy Biden holds the exclusive power to pardon his son of all crimes by virtue of the office he occupies.

My own bit of unsolicited advice to the president? Don’t do it if Hunter escapes any prison time. For my money, I don’t think he will serve any time behind bars … but that’s just me.

Dad wants to be re-elected president at the end of the year. Do you remember the last high-profile presidential pardon and the impact it had on the results of that election? In 1976, President Ford was running for election. One month after taking office, in September 1974, he pardoned former President Nixon of all crimes associated with the Watergate scandal. That act likely destroyed Ford’s chances at election.

I cannot provide any counsel for what Joe Biden should do if his son is tossed into the slammer. That’s why we pay POTUS the big dough.

Trump: recipe for boredom

It is becoming apparent to me that readers of High Plains Blogger are as bored with the 45th POTUS as I am.

I now shall explain myself.

Yes, I am writing about him. However, I hope readers have taken note that I am veering off the political trail and into more, um, human interest matters. Those other issues seem to be garnering more attention among HPB readers than my usual prattle about Donald J. Trump, who I believe is the most dangerous politician of my lifetime.

Also, I want to mention — even though it is obvious — that I have returned to referring to the former POTUS by his name. I am doing so sparingly. Why? Because even the appearance of his name sends me into fits of boredom. That means I’ll offer up the occasional pejorative reference to him.

I long have promoted this blog as specializing on “politics, public policy” and on “slice of life” topics. It’s the latter topic that gives me the most pleasure these days. We all have lives outside of political issues. I am preferring, therefore, to talk about those matters that occupy more of our minds than the ramblings of politicians.

I even consider this blog entry a sort of “slice-of-life” item. I hope you feel the same.

This all leads me to another point I want to make. It is that blogging has flung the door wide open to yours truly. I am not bound to rely only on the stumble-bum rhetoric that flies out of politicians’ pie holes. It’s a big ol’ world out there and I like exploring as much of it as I can. Given that I created this blog more than a dozen years ago, I have delivered myself the perfect venue to do the one thing that seems to come so naturally.

I like to write. I hope to keep you interested.

Does ex-POTUS want prison time?

It is striking to listen to the bellicose blathering of the blowhard who once served as our commander in chief.

He’s been convicted by a jury of his peers of 34 felony counts. Donald Trump continues to insist he’s innocent of any wrongdoing. He says the jury was rigged. The trial was a sham. The judge is a crook.

Now … why is this important? Because in about a month, the same judge who presided in NYC over the hush money trial is going to hand down a sentence. It might include probation. It might include some time behind bars.

The judge is Juan Merchan, who’s thought to be a meticulous jurist. One of the things I’ve always heard about sentencing procedures is that judges look for contrition among criminal defendants. They look for some semblance of ownership that the defendant did something wrong.

Judge Merchan isn’t getting any of that from this defendant. He’s getting insults, invective, epithets and threats of violent reaction.

All of this makes me wonder if Donald John Trump actually is inviting some prison time.

Don’t you know that July 11 is going to be an extremely big day.

Perfection: impossible to find

Those out there who seek to build the “perfect nation” in the mold, for instance, of the current Republican cult leader who’s heading for his party’s presidential nomination, need a serious lesson on what our founders intended for us.

These wise men knew from the outset that perfection was too steep a hill to climb. They wrote in the preamble to our cherished Constitution: “We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union … “

There you have it in the second clause of our nation’s government framework. They knew that perfection was out of their reach, and out of the reach of those who would follow.

Indeed, the founders — as learned as many of them were — enacted a Constitution that over time has proved to be far from perfect. The men who wrote it didn’t grant women the right to vote; that constitutional amendment didn’t come into being until 1920, for crying out loud!

They didn’t grant the rights of citizenship to Black people, who were still enslaved in 1789. Freedom from human bondage didn’t arrive until 1863 and then it took another century to enact legislation guaranteeing Black citizens the full rights of citizenship.

The issue for me is the tone of the rhetoric I hear from those on the far right, the MAGA cultists who don’t understand what the founders intended when they sought to create a “more perfect Union.” They knew from the outset what has been lost on too many Americans who march to the cadence dictated by their leader.

It is that those of us who love this country must also understand a fundamental truth about it. It isn’t perfect and we are unlikely ever to make it so.

Getting used to the traffic madness

Five years ago, my bride and I took a bit of a leap of faith, moving from our quiet neighborhood up yonder in Amarillo to the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex.

Our reason was as straightforward as it gets. We wanted to be near our granddaughter. We also knew that the move would present some challenges for us, given that we had were deeply embedded in the Texas Panhandle, our neighborhood and the home we watched being built from scratch beginning in October 1996.

One of the main challenges would be traffic. We knew about the legendary D/FW traffic woes. The place is covered in freeway asphalt. You pay tolls to ride on some of them. We have plenty of “interstate highways,” starting with I-35 E and W, I-20, I-30 and various loops around both Dallas and Fort Worth.

I have figured out, though, what appears to be a formula for getting from place to place. As they say about a lot of aspects of life: Timing is everything.

I have learned to time my excursions according to normal traffic patterns. I am acutely aware that factors can change the flow of traffic in an instant. Accidents, construction, special events that draw more motorists onto our rights-of-way all have this way of disrupting the flow.

I stay the dickens off the highways during rush hours. I have found that Sunday, naturally, is the best day to travel.

You know, of course, that my wife, Kathy Anne, has passed away. I have become friends in recent months with someone with whom I like to spend time. She lives in a Fort Worth suburb. It’s a bit of a drive from Collin County … but far from overly daunting.

It’s all in the timing, man. We select our visitation based partly on what we believe will enable relatively hassle-free travel.

It’s just one of those aspects of living in a metro area comprising about 8 million human beings, many of whom compete for space on our public roads and highways.

I have told you about my adaptability. So … there you go!

Mortality presents itself

You’ve heard it said, I am sure, that “growing old isn’t for the … ”

Wimpy. Weak. Pansies. Faint-hearted. You know more of them. Of that I also am sure. I mention this because of a realization I made the other day while reaching out to a good friend who I’ve known since we were teenagers back in our hometown of Portland, Ore.

I hadn’t heard from this friend in, oh, several months. He normally keeps up with this blog and gets in touch with me via social media on a fairly regular basis.

He went off the proverbial grid. Or so I thought.

I reached out to another friend, a former high school classmate, to ask whether he had heard from our mutual pal. He said he hadn’t heard a word from him … or nothing about him. I told Friend No. 2 I would call the “lost” friend to see how he’s doing.

I did. He answered his phone. “Hey, man,” I said. “I have been thinking about you and wondered how you’re doing. I hadn’t heard from you in some time, so I am just checking in with you.”

We chatted some more. His voice sounded strong. He told me he had some surgery on his neck to take care of a “lymph node problem.” I then told him of my concern. “Hey, we’re all of a certain age that when I don’t hear from one of my peers, I start thinking the worst,” I said. My pal laughed out loud. He knew precisely what I meant.

How old are we? We’re in our mid-70s. We graduated from high school in the Summer of Love, 1967. Many of us went to war right after high school. Many of my friends have flourished, raised fine families and, of course, endured our share of tragedy and heartbreak.

I suppose this is my recognition that since time is no one’s friend that a sense of mortality has this way of creeping up on all of us.

Live life to the fullest, y’all. Because you never know …

 

What would Ike think?

Today and other days this week have my mind flashing back to the first president I remember during my tine on this Earth.

I was born in 1949, during the second term of Harry Truman’s administration. My initial memory of the president begins with Dwight Eisenhower.

I want to preface my brief remarks by reminding readers of these facts. Eisenhower led the World War II Allied forces to victory in Europe in 1945. The victory march began 80 years ago today when Ike ordered the D-Day invasion of northern France to begin. He achieved General of the Army status. He ran for the presidency in 1952 and won in a landslide; he would repeat the landslide victory four years later.

Ike was a Republican and today I am wondering: What in the name of all that is holy would President Eisenhower think of what has become of the party he once led to the pinnacle of power?

Ike wasn’t a career politician when he decided to run for president. He had spent his professional life in the military, arguably the least political job one can hold in service to the public. His concerns didn’t rely on political considerations.

Eisenhower led by example and was adamantly faithful to the oath he took to protect and defend the Constitution. He took the oath while wearing his uniform and then as president of the United States.

I cannot help but wonder what Ike would think of the great political party he once led in this era of fealty to one man. Gen. Eisenhower died in 1969, just eight years after leaving the presidency in the hands of the “next generation” led by President John F. Kennedy.

He warned us in his farewell speech of the dangers of the “military-industrial complex.” He knew those dangers better than almost any other living American in that moment.

This man was a leader. He wore his military uniform with pride and was far from the “sucker” and “loser” that one of his presidential successors has proclaimed others who choose that career to be.

That successor, himself a sucker and loser and now a convicted felon, would be unfit to carry Eisenhower’s briefcase. Yet here is, leading Ike’s once-great political party.

What has happened to the Grand Old Party?

Odds mount against project

If I were a betting man — and I am not! — I would be inclined to lay money down on the demise of an apartment complex in Princeton, Texas, where work began but has come to a screeching halt.

My hunch is that every serious thunderstorm that pounds the construction site only damages it more severely, making it unfit to continue.

The project to which I refer sits on US 380 just east of Walmart. Construction began on it sometime in 2022. Then the developer and the contractor got into a snit and the contractor walked off the job. It is no small project that has gone fallow.

There has been virtually no sign of human life on the site for more than a year. Unfinished buildings are exposed to the often-violent elements. Meanwhile, we have had a soaking spring in North Texas, bringing literally tons of water onto the site. Will we get more of the same kind of Mother Nature’s anger coming our way? You can bet on that … for sure!

Meanwhile, Princeton city officials are saying next to nothing about the project’s status, demurring saying only that “legal” is handling it.

It’s making me wonder out loud once more whether we’ve got a big-league boondoggle on our hands along US 380.

‘OK … we’ll go’

What you see on the headline attached to this blog post might be the most understated and underrated military command in the history of warfare.

It came from the lips of Dwight D. Eisenhower, supreme Allied Commander of the forces that launched the greatest sea invasion in history. It’s been called D-Day. And for those who have wondered what the “D” stood for … it stands for nothing at all, other than to identify the day the invasion took place.

Ike and his staff had been hamstrung by inclement weather that walloped the English Channel for days prior to the launch. They had planned to go on June 5 but delayed the invasion for 24 hours.

Then came some somewhat encouraging weather reports overnight. Gen. Eisenhower took in the reports and then gave the order: “OK … we’ll go.”

Roughly 5,000 ships took part. They carried tens of thousands of Allied troops, from the United States, Great Britain, Canada, France and a host of other nations.

Operation Overlord succeeded in securing the beachhead at Normandy, on the French coast. Was it a certainty? Hardly., Indeed, Eisenhower prepared for the worst, drafting an announcement that told the world that despite our best efforts, the landing had failed. And in making that never-delivered announcement, Ike took full responsibility for the failure.

The war in Europe would drag on for nearly one more year before Adolf Hitler’s nightmarish dream of the Third Reich came crashing down.

The men who stormed ashore that day are in the mid- to late 90s; many of them are centenarians. Most of them have passed on, leaving the world with few remaining heroes to thank for their valor, their courage and their undying loyalty to freedom.

They formed what has been called The Greatest Generation. I am a product of that generation, as my dad served honorably as a sailor, fighting the Nazis in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations.

I am proud of his service, and I am grateful beyond measure for the men who saved our civilization from the tyrants.