Death of a Nation
Phillipe and Jorge hate to preach or belabor the obvious, but we can’t help saying that the lowest point in our lifetimes, as far as our country’s global reputation, image and policy-making, has been the election of the pathological liar, professional groper, golf cheat and all around scumbag Donald Trump as president.
P&J are both Truman babies – born light years ago. And to inform Millenials, Harry Truman was the president who succeeded Franklin Delano Roosevelt, pulled the trigger on the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (often deplored but credited with saving thousands of GI lives), and coined the phrase, “The buck stops here.” Whereas our current commander-in-chief is a gutless narcissist who cares nothing about America, and is only concerned about himself.
Unfortunately, he may stand a chance of being re-elected in 2020. And he will be aided by the fact that the national Democratic party is running a presidential primary with 21 candidates, a preposterous and possibly self-destructing number. Not to mention it looks like an AARP convention, with the purportedly lead chancers – Biden, Sanders and Warren – all over 70 years of age. Hey, it’s a brand new day!
The Dems are also faced with the consequences of trying to impeach the man with the ridiculous hairdo and fake tan, which could backfire, despite the fact that impeachment is probably too small a step. As P&J have thundered here before, just go straight after the Orange Orangutan’s tax returns, because they will probably show that he not only falsified information, but is in hock to countless Russian oligarchs. We think he doth protest too much.
But would someone charismatic please step up for the Dems? Or you will fall victim to the same thing that cost you the 2016 election! Trump has city-slickered the lower middle-class losers, who he wouldn’t walk across the street to piss on if they were on fire. “Make America Dumb Again.”
Sri Lanka’s Sad Story
Phillipe and Jorge don’t mean to bore your strides off, but the Easter Sunday bombings in Sri Lanka, where P worked for a time and had friends, touched a nerve.
Sri Lanka is a strange mix of culture and civility, combined with grinding poverty outside its main cities. There is the elegance of Galle Face Green with its surrounding luxury hotels and kids playing cricket in the morning before heading to school, and 15 minutes away you can see water buffalo and elephants working the fields and rice paddies. And with 70% of the population being Buddhists, it gives a strange perspective to everyday life. (Think cows lying on the center stripe of the roads, studiously avoided by drivers whose main equipment on their cars is the horn.)
It also suffered tremendously from a long, vicious civil war between the Tamil Tigers in the north and the majority Sinhalese government forces in the south. And they are accustomed to violence, unfortunately. The road from the airport to the capital, Colombo, is lined by zig-zag Jersey barriers to prevent suicide car bombers, and they are surrounded by machine gun turrets occupied by what looked to P like 16-year-old soldiers.
Phillipe got one of the scares of his life when he wandered out for a morning walk, crossing the commuter railroad tracks. Just as he reached the other side, a convoy of military trucks and a black limousine screeched to a halt as the railroad crossing bar came down and a train stopped. About two dozen soldiers jumped out and surrounded the limo, which contained the vice president, pointing their guns at the people on the sidewalk. P decided this wasn’t the best of times to be white and a head taller than most of the pedestrians. The reason for the panic was that the Sri Lankan prime minister had recently been almost killed by a bomb ambush, which, to put it mildly, had everyone on high alert for a possible repeat performance.
But the saddest thing about the recent bombings is you won’t meet nicer or more intelligent and well-mannered folks than in Sri Lanka. Fuck terrorists everywhere.
Havlicek Stole the Ball!
Then the Boston Celtics’ announcer, the legendary Johnny Most, made his screaming commentary, “Havlicek stole the ball!” to win the 1965 Eastern Conference championship against Philadelphia in the dying seconds, an iconic moment in Celtics’ history, as John Havlicek won it for the green and white by grabbing Hal Greer’s inbounds pass.
Havlicek is the Celts’ all-time leading scorer, despite the fact that he rarely used his left hand except to brush back his hair. But he was an incredible all-around athlete who, when coming out of Ohio State as a Boston draft pick, also tried out for the Cleveland Browns as a wide receiver. He was the last player cut in training camp in favor of the Browns opting to retain future pro bowler Gary Collins.
Phillipe and Jorge saw Havlicek play years ago in the CVS Golf Classic, when he was paired up in a foursome with Dallas Hall of Fame QB Roger Staubach, CVS CEO Tom Ryan and, if memory serves, Boomer Esiason. Both Hondo and Roger looked like they could still play their respective sports, despite being in their 50s. Clean living, we suspect.
Thanks for the memories, John.