Beatus Natalis!

Which, if google translate is performing as advertised, means Happy Bithday! Yessir, today is my birthday. I was arrived in this world on the second day of October, a Thursday, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred fifty and two.  I was born in Toledo Hospital at around 5:30 AM, with Dr. Henry Brown assisting in the birth.  He was our family doctor, and a good one. I'm seventy-two years old today, and thanks to clean living, regular exercise, and a healthy diet I've managed to make it this far in spite of my regular association with women of questionable moral character, supporting myself against the bar with my left elbow while I hold my cocktail in my right hand, and only eating my fair share of the pizza we ordered - we, that is, being myself and a few drinking companions. 

Seventy two.

This post may be somewhat lengthy, so, given the general interest in a single day of the author's life coupled with the somewhat abbreviated assiduity of the readers here, feel free to go elsewhere. Believe me, no one will be offended.

Pondering my misspent youth, I note that we've lost, or are in the process of losing, more than a few traits or common skills of our society here in the mid-western United States. For instance:

People, notably young white females, no longer pronounce the letter tee correctly. I found a reference to this on the Internet, offering some proof that I'm not completely nuts nor am I hearing things.

Have You Noticed People Not Pronouncing Their Tees

From the article:

The phenomenon itself is known as “T-glottalization.” It occurs when a speaker swallows the T sound in a word rather than speaking it aloud. We hear it when words like “kitten” and “water” are pronounced like “KIH-en” and “WAH-er.”

I first heard this some years back when a cute twenty-something female in the office mispronounced Dayton, as in Dayton, Ohio. She'd call it Day-on. I didn't think it was cute, but she didn't work for me so I never said anything. However, had she worked for me, I'd correct her once or twice, before telling her, "Look kid, it's Dayton, with a glottal stop on the tee. Now drop the false accent. It isn't cute, and people have trouble understanding you."

Another thing we've lost is cursive writing. Cursive is no longer taught in public school, which is where the dim bulbs, illegals, and hoi polloi end up.  If you believe the results of the Ohio School Report Card, most of these little primates graduate high school and can barely read.

From District Achievement, used without permission. Note that this is the first year that the report card is using numeric grades instead of the traditional letter grade. Now why would they do that?

Given that no one can do much of anything, cutting out cursive writing in grade school should leave extra time to do other things - such as English, math, and history.

Checking out NPR on this (I rarely read NPR as they are not a reliable news source), they made an interesting point.

What Students Lost Since Cursive Writing was Cut From the Common Core Standards

From the article: 

It is a fact that in 2010, the U.S. government officially removed cursive from the required Common Core Standards for K-12 education.

So the ability to read and write cursive has been fading from American society. But this matters because many of the most important historical documents in the U.S., everything from the Declaration of Independence to the Bill of Rights, are written in cursive.

Not only are important documents written in cursive, they are also in print. The good old ink on paper version of the Western Canon is easily available at any public library - but so are desktop PCs with an Internet connection. What I often see at the public library is a host of fat black pavement apes looking for porn while their offspring hang around outside, looking for an opportunity.

I vividly remember reading Animal Farm in elementary school, and again in junior high school. The instructors I had weren't qualified to teach it and compare the story to history  (Stalin) and human behavior.  The character I remember as being significant, although I couldn't articulate just why, was Benjamin the donkey. He could read and was intelligent, but he failed to act until it was too late. At the end of the book, he reads the writing on the wall (the commandments) and a few animals realize the commandments have changed.

I wonder if it's too late for the U.S.?

In the middle east Iran launched a barrage of missiles at Israel last Tuesday night. The numbers are extremely unclear, and the only thing we-the-people know for sure is that Iran launched some number of missiles or rockets with non-nuclear warheads at Israel, and that many of these were shot down before they could reach the intended target. Some number got through, showing that Israel's defense isn't perfect and that Iran is willing to kick the party up a notch or two. If this doesn't lead to war, I truly do not know just what will.

Right along with this the longshoremen on the East coast are on strike as of this morning. They make $39 per hour, plus benefits. That shakes out to about $80,000 per year. They want more money. A lot more money, along with a contractual prohibition against automation. Frankly, this is stable dressing and the strike will damage the entire U.S. economy. Worse, we have a President who won't order them back to work (check the air traffic controllers strike - remember that one? The idiots thought the Cowboy was just blowin' smoke. He wasn't.). Granted, the man has dementia and doesn't know where he is half the time, so I'm reluctant to criticize him. I believe his controller is the Ayatollah Obongo, who probably should be in prison for espionage.

Then there's the Ukraine. Just why the U.S. would ever get involved in a war between the Ukraine and Russia is beyond me. I can understand why Russia invaded the Ukraine - Russia needs a seaport that is open all year around, and Ukraine has one. Moreover, Ukraine acts as a buffer between Russia and NATO. The Ukraine used to be a breadbasket, but the place is so torn up now that I don't think it will produce much of anything for the next two generations. So - why get involved?

Well, the times goes by. Happy hour is coming up, and I've got a bottle of rare Magellan gin that I'm going to break open.

Here's mud in your eye!