Just Admit You Were Wrong

   Today Donald Trump admitted that Barack Obama was born in the United States. That's apparently a really big deal judging by today's standards. It takes a lot of guts to admit that  you were wrong. Oh wait, he never confessed to being wrong. He just admitted that the president was born in the states.
   It doesn't much matter to me what the plan is, when it's coming from a birther conspiracy theorist. There is a reason why credibility matters, and why you must protect your reputation. It was rather inconvenient for many people to have to endure Trump's baseless presumptions during the 2012 election cycle; that we needed to see a proof of Obama's birth. That Obama even produced it at all was a sad day in our history. The day a president gave lip service to an idiotic conspiracy theory generated by a glib actor playing the part of someone who cares.
   Fast forward to today and Donald expects us all to just move forward as though it never happened. But it did happen, so forget about us forgetting. It was important enough at the time that we had to hear about it every day for months. Words matter. And Trump's words are not carefully chosen. He ought to dig deep for the inner strength and intestinal fortitude to say, very carefully, "I was wrong. What I did was wrong."  Owning it is what a real man would do.

Beer Dawgs at Swabbi's

I originally didn't want to go, mainly because I hate the winding levee road called Garden Highway, which snakes it's way along the river for miles to the Swabbi's restaurant and bar, located just below the I-5 overpass near Woodland. I just hate that road with it's narrow lanes, and foot wide shoulders that pan off into the abyss. Not a place a like to travel to, or a road I like to travel on. I had little choice however as Erika informed me that I was going whether I wanted to or not.
   Still, we arrived without incident and even lucked into the only handicap parking space left. That was fortunate because the terrain is very uneven and challenging for a guy like me who is somewhere between being able to walk and needing a wheelchair. Swabbi's is a very enjoyable place to eat, drink, and enjoy live music. It's nestled right on the bank of the river, with shady trees, and grass on a wide open lot. Great beer and okay food.
   The Beer Dawgs are led by singer/guitarists Steve Wall and Bob Pearce, and joined by former bassist Joe Lev. Though not still together since Bob moved to Texas, they have been playing their home grown tunes mixed with some tasty covers in Sacramento for decades. They even played our wedding. So any time they get together locally, Erika makes sure to attend. She took a few clips of the gig, so I thought I'd share them here.
   After all, it was a successful outing, and we found a faster, less nerve racking route home that swings by the metropolitan airport. Would definitely do it again.

Rockin' and Rollin' and What Not

What a week it has been. After a great three day weekend, the shortened work week has passed by painlessly, and Friday is upon us. We are getting ever closer to the election, or what I call the end of it all. I thought it would never get so close, time wise and poll wise.  Yet here we are only six weeks out. My instincts say to bury my head in the sand, but we know that isn't possible. So instead I am going to embrace our national train wreck for it's pure entertainment value. Anything else is depressing, and to quote a friend, "Support is a strong word right now."

   Erika and I went to see a good suspense thriller called Don't Breathe, which started off as a mediocre, run of the mill, Netflix style sadist flick, but quickly evolved into a legit nail biter. I give it credit for being creative using highly played out scenarios. The book report is incomplete. Still plugging away at the Devil's Chessboard, and woefully short on details. I will definitely pass along anything earth quaking after digesting this CIA expose. I have finished the first of four parts of the audio book: Antiquities of the Jews, as told by Flavius Josephus. I recommend this to anyone who wants the Old Testament laid out in terms that are familiar, with emphasis on the morals to each story, which is lacking in the scriptures themselves. Librivox is a great source for such historical audio books for free. Look for the link in my other people's places section.
   I want to add that the current theory about Sandra Olsson being dead in Grease is poppycock. No sale on that fan theory. It says clearly in the first song that she was saved from drowning so yeah.

Sandy waves goodbye on her way to heaven

Mind Numbing Memes and Vitamin D

Checking in. Talking Vitamin D, book reports, dog farts, and a bit of reminiscing. Salutations and good day to Gene Wilder.

Heart and Joan Jett at Shoreline

We survived our Wednesday trek to Mountain View's Shoreline Amphitheater for a triple shot of Cheap Trick, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, followed by Heart as the headlining act. The experience was great, the traffic horrendous. This venue never seems to be prepared for the influx of attendees they get. Worst handicap parking situation I've seen anywhere. The lot is located over a steep hill that is only traversable by foot, and across the main road. But whatever, we managed. Erika captured a few songs from the gig on her phone, so here they are. The videos  are a bit washed out, but the sound is good. 

And from the Thunder Valley show two weeks prior

Purge

Hey, so good to be back. I was on a short hiatus from blogging because this last week was just too full of action. Last weekend Gordon treated Erika and I to a concert at the Thunder Valley Casino in Lincoln, CA, which was a double shot of Cheap Trick and Joan Jett. I wasn't a fan of either but I enjoyed it and came away feeling like I was sufficiently rocked. Gordon hadn't intended to boot the show, but must have changed his mind last minute, which is fortunate because it provided more fodder for our Los Hermanos website. 
     On a more somber note, our neighbor of 17 years, Al Lara

had passed away earlier that week, and we attended his funeral on Tuesday. It was a good service filled with haunting mariachi music. I've heard mariachi music pouring through my dominantly Hispanic neighborhood for years. It is always festive and upbeat. But I had never heard funeral mariachi music. It was a rich blend of happy sounding melodies countered by foreboding undertones of sad and melancholy bass swells. The band was very classy and talented.  I had also never attended a military funeral before, and I was impressed by how dignified and noble  the procession was. Al had been a cook in the army many years ago, and was given the same treatment and respect as any soldier of war or peace. My breath was taken when the captain presented the American flag to his widow.  I know it sounds corny, but I actually felt a brief sensation of patriotism wave over me, and it tingled. I don't usually get choked up over such things, but it was a powerful moment.
     The next day was Wednesday, and we had scheduled our annual junk pick-up with the city of Sac. It was a lot of effort for Erika and I to purge the house of so much unwanted junk, but it left me with a feeling of great satisfaction to see it all go. We made a massive pile in the street, and poof, it was all gone the next day.

Tomorrow night we are heading to the Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountainview for a repeat performance of Cheap Trick and Joan Jett, but this time Heart will be squeezed into the bill. What a summer. We'll see how it goes.

Say What?

I must apologize for not only the audio/video sync being way off in this clip, but also the lack of shirt on my being. I have no better excuse but to say that it was a hot August afternoon. Just my take on the current state of Trump and his campaign.