The rest of the story

On the day President Kennedy was murdered, I was having lunch at a friend’s house in Merced, California. I was in the Air Force, and I was 19 years old.

JFK was very popular, of course, and I held a high opinion of him in spite of his being the cause of the demise of men’s hats in American society. Like all in my family, I was a Democrat though I still had never voted. At this point, I will reveal a secret:

I never voted until I was 40 years old.

In subsequent decades, my high opinion of him subsided a bit as I learned more about him, but he still seemed like a favorable chap and a reasonably good president. That has changed.

I just finished a book by the award-winning journalist Seymour Hersh, The Dark Side of Camelot which was published in 1997. How I had never read this book or even heard of it surprises me, but in the late 1990s I was dealing with divorce and related distractions.

Kennedy was a half-assed president at best and a whoremonger of epic proportions. Oh, we’ve all heard that he had a thing with Marilyn Monroe, but she was just one of an ongoing parade of women, many of whom were prostitutes, who visited the White House on a regular basis to cavort naked with Jack and his pals in the White House pool while beleaguered wife Jackie was out of town.

Let’s step back to his 1960 election, which was almost certainly stolen from Richard Nixon. I had previously thought last year’s election fraud was the first in a presidential contest since Andrew Jackson’s initial victory was stolen two centuries ago, but I was wrong.

In key states, Kennedy’s crew enlisted the Mafia and other seamy sorts to rig results. And that was hardly the end of Kennedy’s doings with the Mafia, which was enlisted to assist in JFK’s ongoing campaign to murder Fidel Castro after the Bay of Pigs fiasco.

In all of his doings, JFK sought the aid of his brother Bobby, a Svengali who was attorney general and likely a nastier character than Jack himself.

JFK was trying to have Castro murdered till that bloody day in Dallas. It was an obsession.

After the mob helped JFK get elected, Bobby, as attorney general, inexplicably went after organized crime in a hard way, which leads us to the assassination of Jack — and Bobby four years later. Whodunnit? Lots of suspicion has been directed at either Castro or the Mafia.

I vote for the Mafia for two reasons. Jack Ruby, who had mob connections, killed Lee Harvey Oswald. And Castro would have had little reason to knock off Bobby too, but the mob did. No way in the world did Oswald act on his own.

And how did the Kennedys get filthy rich in the first place? It came from daddy Joe who earned it via all manner of dishonest shenanigans, including bootlegging early in the 20th century.

Now I know the rest of the story. Maybe you do too. Excellent book. I recommend it.

The Kennedys were, of course, Democrats.

The Idaho potatoes

The two taters I scored today on the plaza.

Every Thursday, a street market appears on the neighborhood plaza. And we circle it six times because we circle that plaza six times afoot every weekday, our exercise routine. The walk is more interesting on Thursdays due to the market and the people. The rest of the week, the plaza is abandoned, still and quiet.

Today I spotted something special: Idaho potatoes, which are not common hereabouts. Other, less noble, potatoes are easy to find, but not Idahos which make the best baked potatoes. I bought two, which I will bake on Sunday and serve with broiled salmon.

Freeze-zapped bougainvilleas.

The weather has improved spectacularly the last couple of days, and we’ve doffed the heavy duds for lighter attire. With luck the recent freeze was the winter’s last, but one cannot count on that. Once in March we had snow on the mountaintops that are visible from the Hacienda. Mama Nature is fickle.

But it’s about time to call Abel the Deadpan Yardman to come and trim the detritus and tote it away. Normally, I call him earlier but I’ve been lazy this year.

And speaking of potatoes:


I’m emotionally damaged due to what’s happening above the Rio Bravo. Unlike my frequent political posts during the Golden Era of President Trump, I’ve stepped away from it to a great extent. Why bother? It’s a lost cause, and fraud and imbecility reign. As the Blond Bomber would say: Sad.

But, just for fun, let us address some points:

  1. As I accurately predicted here on the morning of Election Day, the Democrat Socialists stole the vote. There are numerous ways to do this. One is that you actually stuff ballot boxes. There are videos of that being done. Two, you initiate mail-in voting, which is tailor-made for cheating. Three, you spout “news” for four years that consists of lies and misrepresentations, which influences the huge voter pool of dimwits. A combination of these tactics works best, obviously.
  2. No sooner did Sleepy Joe, who is a senile front man for radicals, enter the Oval Office than he began killing jobs and opening the border to illegals. He’s ending energy independence. And there are moves afoot to legislate stupidities like men and women are the same. He’s making kissy-face to Iran and China. If you’re unaware of this, you should stop reading The New York Times and The Washington Post.

The most important part of the entire disaster is that the Democrat Socialist Party got away with stealing the election. The significance of that one element cannot be overstated. It’s simply unprecedented, and takes the United States down a very dark path, and the entire world with it.

Diversity at work.

But enough of that. I’m in Mexico, and darn glad of it. We also have a dreadful president, but since Mexico does not affect global events like America does, it matters little except to us Mexicans. And I found Idaho potatoes today!

Thank the Goddess for small blessings.