BOHICA, y'all.....

For those of you who have never served in the military, allow me to explain.

BOHICA is but one of many colorful slogans/abbreviations that are forever entwined in military life, the most famous of which is FUBAR. Right behind FUBAR is BOHICA, which stands for Bend Over, Here It Comes Again. I think the situation in which one would utter this time-honored phrase needs no further explanation...if it does, well, where have you been all your life? Up a tree and out on a limb?

In any event, friends and neighbors, everybody bend over, because here it comes again. The Great Pretender is all set to announce the members of his security council, with the Secretary of State slot being filled by none other than Billary Clinton, aka The Wicked Bitch of the North.

In case you haven't noticed, I can't stand her. I literally hate her...I mean, I despise her living entrails. The sound of her voice makes me wanna scream, and the sight of her makes me wanna vomit. She's the sleaziest, lyingest, most dishonest, self-serving, egotistical, power-hungry bitch to ever pop out of the birth canal. And if you catch me on a bad day I'll tell you how I REALLY feel about her.

I mean, c'mon...someone please tell me one thing, just ONE GOOD THING, that she's accomplished while serving in Congress. Just one, that's all....ONE THING SHE DID that has made the United States a better and/or safer place to live. Anybody? Anybody? Bueller? And we won't even talk about her stint as First Lady...you know, what she was doing when she had to "dodge sniper fire" in Bosnia while getting off the plane?

In any event, the thought of her being the one to represent the United States in meetings with the heads of state worldwide makes me wanna hang my head in shame and disgust. If ever there was a person NOT deserving of the post of SecState, believe me, she's it.

About the only positive thing I can think of that will come out of this, and I do think it's a good one, is that she won't be in Congress leading the charge against our Second Amendment rights on behalf of The Great Pretender. In that one respect, The Great Pretender has done us all a favor.

Kinda the "lesser of two evils," I guess.

Either way, it's gonna be a long four years. Oh, and for those of you who don't know, FUBAR stands for Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. Which is what our country is gonna look like in four years.

I hear a bottle of Sailor Jerry rum calling my name........

"Office of the President Elect?"

Excuse me, y'all, but am I missing something? Did someone do some fiddling with the elected offices in our government and create a new one called "The Office of the President Elect?" And if this was on the news, how did I miss it?

This one's been eating at me a while, too. And for all you Obama fans out there, unless you don't want to read something negative about your hero I suggest you move on to anther web page just about now.

So it's the day after the election, I'm watching the "Today" show on the tube while getting ready to go to work, and I see the newly-elected candidate standing behind a podium jabbering about something. I don't hear a word he's saying for two reasons: I could care less about what he's got to say because I didn't vote for him, and my attention is fixed on this blue sign with white letters that's attached to the front of the podium. The sign says, "OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT ELECT." I stand there for a moment or two, trying to comprehend what I'm seeing.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't ever recall seeing a newly-elected Presidential candidate speaking from behind a podium with this sign on it. Ever. I don't ever recall a president-elect who was so full of himself that he would dare have the audacity to post such a self-proclaimed, self-adoring, self-worshipping title such as that on a podium or anywhere else. Not even "Slick Willy" Clinton had the cajones to do that, although I'm sure his wife certainly suggested it. Nope, it would appear that Obama has added yet another "first" to his record.

Yeah, I know, it probably wasn't his idea but was thought up by one of the lemmings on his staff. But you can't tell me he wasn't briefed on it, approved it, and then stood behind the podium knowing that sign with the self-proclaimed title was on it. And that, friends and neighbors, is called "Culpable Liability."

So he stands behind that podium and says that we all must remember that "there's only one President" and people ought not be confused, that they must remember that Bush is still President and it's still Bush's show. And he says all this from a sign which waves in everyone's face the inevitable and sad fact that in very short order, HE is going to be President.

Like we didn't already know.

Is it me, or is there a mixed message here? Isn't this kinda like him saying, "Yeah, we only have one President, but we all know that he's a lame duck now and in very short order I'M going to be President, so just nod and smile at this guy because what he's saying now really doesn't matter because in very short order I'M going to be President? An oh, just in case you haven't heard the news, in very short order I'M going to be President!"

On the positive side....well, right now I can't see much of a positive side. I'm keeping a very close eye on who The Great Pretender is picking for his Cabinet, and so far I'm not impressed. I'm especially not impressed with his pick for Attorney General, a Clinton-era uber-liberal who has some of the most draconian anti-Second Amendment ideas next to Slick Willy himself. And I'm REALLY not gonna be impressed if he picks Billary Clinton as Secretary of State. Aside from the fact that I simply can't stand the sight of her - just the sound of her voice makes me wanna vomit - she's no more qualified to be SOS than The Great Pretender is to be POTUS.

So now Obama is out there telling us that his administration is going to "hit the ground running" and it's not going to be "business as usual" in Washington, DC. And he's telling us this from behind that sign, that self-adoring piece of cardboard that tells us he thinks he's really so much more important than he really is. Okay, so he talks the talk, but WILL he walk the walk? Time will tell.

And if all this sounds like sour grapes from a disappointed white Republican, you're right - that's exactly what it is. I'm just exercising my right as protected by the First Amendment. Besides, I have every right to bitch and complain.

I voted.

As I've said before, it's gonna be a long four years.

The Best Road Trip Ever

Every biker has one. Every biker alive at some point in his/her life has taken a road trip that they fondly recall as The Best Road Trip Ever. No, I’m not talking about a favorite route to ride, or a favorite day trip – we all have those, too, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about a road trip, a trip that takes you at least a day to get to where you’re going, you stay for a few days, and then it takes you at least a day to get back. THAT is a road trip, and THAT is what I’m talking about here.

My Best Road Trip Ever was the trip my wife Gina and I took from our home in Wantage, New Jersey to Daytona Beach, Florida for Biketoberfest 2003. This trip was special in a lot of ways, but the most important one was because this was the very first motorcycle road trip Gina had ever taken, and she had only been riding for four years. (Wanna know a secret? It was my first motorcycle road trip too, although I don’t think I ever told her that.)

We had talked about making a road trip ever since we got our Harleys in January and April of 2003. I got my Heritage Softail Classic in January, and Gina got her Low Rider in April. Almost immediately we started talking about taking a road trip; I suggested Virginia Beach, and she suggested Daytona Beach. It was too late for Bike Week (we ruled that out right away anyhow because we’d heard the crowds were incredible), so we set our sights on Biketoberfest. Gina was in charge of making the hotel reservations in Daytona Beach, and I was responsible for planning the route. When I asked Gina how far she wanted to go the first day she immediately replied, “I don’t wanna stop until we’re in South Carolina!” So we looked at the map and saw that the first town of any size once you crossed over into South Carolina was a town called Dillon, so we set that as our first day’s destination.

I did the math and quickly discovered that it would take us at least twelve hours to get there, and I had a feeling that Gina would be ready to stop for the night long before then. For that reason we didn’t even make a hotel reservation in Dillon; we just left it up in the air.

The day before we were supposed to leave we gassed up both bikes, packed up our clothing, and double-checked everything we needed to make the trip. Then I checked the weather and got the bad news – they were calling for severe thunderstorms all night long and into the morning, and once the storms were over they were calling for sustained winds of 25-30 MPH with gusts up to 45-50 MPH. It did not look like it was going to be a pleasant first day’s ride.

The morning of departure came, and we were ready to leave at six AM like we had planned. Only problem was, it was still raining – and raining HARD. The wind was blowing, thunder was booming, lighting was flashing, and it was raining like God had gone back on his promise. I checked Weatherbug and saw that this was the tail end of the thunderstorms that had been moving through most of the night, and that the rain should be gone in about an hour. So we made another cup of coffee and sat back, waiting for the rain to stop.

And it did. As soon as the rain moved out of the area, we put on our gear and left. It was 47 degrees outside, so we were dressed for it – chaps, insulated long sleeve shirts, insulated riding jackets, Buffs around our necks, heavy gloves and full-face helmets. We cranked the bikes, made the final adjustments, and hit the road for Daytona. The time was 7:05 AM.

Little did we know we were riding right into the most miserable six hours we were to ever spend on a motorcycle to date.

The wind was absolutely brutal. I mean, FEROCIOUS. The wind was blowing steady at 30 MPH, most of the time hitting us at a slight cross-angle, but sometimes coming at us head on or, worse yet, from a 90 degree angle. We were getting blown all over the road, and we both had to fight to keep the bikes under control and in our lanes every time the wind would gust – which was frequently. I had spent the past three months trying to talk Gina into putting a small detachable sport windshield on her Low Rider, and she had finally given in. When we stopped after the first two hours on the road, she told me right away that if she had not had that windshield on her bike, we would have turned around and gone home after the first half hour. Thank God for small favors.

The hairiest moment of that morning’s ride came as we were crossing Delaware into Maryland. There’s this great big, long, tall bridge crossing a river, and on a calm day it can surprise you with sudden wind gusts. This morning promised to be a real butt-clencher, and when we crossed the bridge we got exactly what we were expecting. Halfway across the wind gusted up on us and blew both of us clear into the next lane over. Thank God the bridge was four lanes, two in each direction, and that the lane next to us was NOT oncoming traffic. Once we got across the bridge I kinda figured that was going to be the worst of it, and I was right. The wind kept blowing us all over the place, but that was the worst of it.

The wind blew on us all the way from Wantage, NJ to Petersburg, Virginia for a total of six hours. Once we got into Petersburg the wind rapidly died away, and we both began to relax and start to enjoy the trip. We were able to get our speed up ad make some good time, which really helped.

Five hours later we were stopped at a gas station outside of Fayetteville, North Carolina where we had stopped for gas and to take a butt break. We were parked on the side of the station sharing a Diet Pepsi when I spoke up.

“Baby, we’ve had a pretty good day’s ride and have come a hell of a long way,” I said. “We have one of two things we can do: we can stop right here, check into that hotel right there (pointing to a Day’s Inn across the street), and in half an hour you can be in the tub soaking and I can be sitting on the couch with my feet up, drinking a beer. Or we can keep on going until we get to Dillon. Whichever you want to do will be just fine with me.” Her reply was immediate and to the point.

“I don’t wanna stop until we’re in Dillon, South Carolina!”

So we saddled up, got back on the road, and rode on for another two hours. It was full dark by the time we stopped, but when we stopped it was at the Hampton Inn in Dillon, South Carolina, and the time was 8:05 PM. We had been in the saddle for a whopping thirteen hours!

The next morning we got up at six, had breakfast at the Waffle House across the empty lot next to the hotel, and were on the road again by eight thirty. It was on this morning that the moment would come that would make this The Best Road Trip Ever.

It was 47 degrees again, so we dressed again the same way we had the day before. It was early in the morning, around 9:30 or so, the day was bright and clear with not a cloud in the sky, no wind (Thank God), and there was no traffic on 95 South. Gina slid over into the left lane and moved up next to me, and we rode side by side on the highway. And that was when The Moment came.

I looked over at Gina in the lane next to me and slightly behind me, and laughed at what I saw. Gina had her legs stretched out with her ankles propped on the highway pegs of her bike, her feet out in front of her, chaps flapping in the wind. Behind the face shield of her full face helmet she was wearing sunglasses, and she was grinning from ear to ear! When she saw me looking over at her she smiled even bigger, bobbing her head up and down as if “Born To Be Wild” were playing in the background! I laughed even harder at this, shot her a thumbs up, and we rode on down the highway side by side for about the next ten miles or so.

We made Daytona Beach by one in the afternoon, and by the time we got there we were wearing t-shirts, half helmets, and fingerless gloves. We stayed there for three and a half days and had a blast the whole time. Florida was beautiful, the bikes we saw were beautiful, we met up with some friends of ours and had a ball at the local bars, and all in all we had a great time. The ride back was pleasant with a stopover at my parent’s house in North Carolina for the night. The last days’ ride was good – until we got to New Jersey. As soon as we crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge into New Jersey it clouded up and threatened rain for the next four hours. We were two miles – TWO MILES – from the house when the skies opened up on us and drenched us. We pulled into the driveway tired, wet, and soggy, but happy. We had just finished our first big road trip, and I knew from that moment on the trip we had just finished would be, for me, The Best Road Trip Ever.

And it has been.

Is it 1/20/2013 Yet?

Well, I guess I should go ahead and get this off my chest. I’ve already alluded to it in my first couple of posts, so I guess now’s the time to let it out.

I’m talking about the recent presidential elections, of course.

First off, let me state that I’m glad to see that America has finally elected a black president. (I absolutely refuse to use any hyphenated title, no matter how popular…see my first post.) This was a long time coming, and I’m glad to see that it happened in my lifetime. I kinda figured it would, but I’m glad to see it happened sooner in my lifetime than later. The election of Barack Obama to the office of President of the United States has given the entire world proof positive that a black man in America stands just as much of a chance of getting ahead and becoming President as a white man. This also proves to all of the black people in America that it’s actually possible to become the man or woman you want to be, no matter what. All you have to do is work for it, apply yourself, have faith in yourself, and don’t give up. Do this, and you can become anything you want, even President of the United States.

Yep, America finally elected a black man President. Only thing is, he was elected for the wrong reason.

He wasn’t elected because of his experience; being a Senator for less than six months hardly qualifies you to be President of the United States.

He wasn’t elected for his proven leadership capabilities, because he’s never been in a position to be a leader of anything that I’m aware of.

He wasn’t elected because he’s done anything substantial aside from getting elected to the Senate. Not that I know of, anyway.

He wasn’t elected because he was head and shoulders better qualified than John McCain, although that may be subject to individual interpretation. My interpretation is that he wasn’t.

He wasn’t elected for any of these reasons. Not a single one.

He was elected because he’s black. Not “despite” being black, but BECAUSE he’s black.

I read a poll online recently that said Obama captured 95% of the black vote. NINETY FIVE PERCENT. Unless I miss my guess, that’s the highest percentage of votes ever captured in one group by any candidate in a Presidential election. It’s certainly higher than any percentage of the white vote ever captured by a white candidate, that’s for sure. And he didn’t capture this high percentage of votes because of his experience, his qualifications, his leadership ability, or anything else. He captured it because he’s black.

And honestly, it’s not his fault. He truly believes he is qualified to be President; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have run. I’m quite sure he knew damned good and well he’d win BECAUSE he was black, that he’d get a higher percentage of the black vote than any other candidate, but I don’t think he ever thought he’d get that much of it. Just my opinion, by the way; I didn’t read that anywhere.

In the weeks before the election, I heard with my own two ears at least five different black people say that they were voting for Obama simply because he was black. I never heard in any of these conversations any mention about his policies being good for America, about his leadership capabilities, or his passion for making America a better place to live. Nope, none of that was mentioned…what WAS mentioned was that it was “about time we had ONE OF US in the White House,” and “things are gonna be different once ONE OF US is in the White House,” things like that. And on top of that, Howard Stern sent his crew out into Harlem a few weeks before the election where they asked some of the people passing by – black people, of course – who they were voting for. When they inevitably said Barack Obama, the crew then asked them which of his policies made them want to vote for Obama, including his choice of SARAH PALIN as a running mate. The policies they asked about were, of course, John McCain’s policies…and EVERY SINGLE PERSON THEY ASKED all said that they loved the policies, it was why they were going to vote for him, and one of them even said that he thought Sarah Palin was a great woman, a perfect running mate, and would make a great Vice President.

They never had a clue. They had NO IDEA of what Obama’s policies are, or even who his running mate was. They broadcast to the world the fact that they were voting for Obama for one reason and one reason only: because he was black.

And that, friends and neighbors, is called RACISM.

A bumper sticker I read online a few days ago said it perfectly; it said, ‘Voting for someone because they are black is just as racist as voting against someone because they are black.” So lemme ask you this…if 95% of white America had voted for John McCain and Obama had lost the election, how long do you think it would have taken for someone – lots of someones, I would imagine – to jump up and scream “RACISM!”? I think you would have heard it before the election results were even finalized.

I also think that the very people who elected him did so for the wrong reasons, and they’re in for one hell of a big disappointment. If the black people who voted for him think that he’s “one of them” and is going to act that way in the White House, then they have a serious lack of understanding of the limitations of the Presidency, and they’ve totally forgotten about the Congress. They’ve also seriously underestimated Barack Obama as well. I may not agree with 99% of what the man stands for, but I will say that I am well aware that he is NOT “one of them.” He is NOT going to get into office and try to right two hundred plus years of perceived wrongs against the blacks in America. He is NOT going to get into office and start issuing decrees aimed at benefiting the blacks in America and totally ignoring the rest of the nation, specifically the whites. He is NOT going to get into office and become “one of them.”

And THAT is REALLY gonna piss some people off. LOTS of people. And then the same people who turned out in record numbers and voted him into office are going to label him an “Uncle Tom,” and are going to turn their backs on him, paving the way for the next POTUS to be another white guy.

But in the mean time, we’re going to have a new POTUS in another month and a half or so, and that thought scares the living crap outta me. Here’s why.

Just to set the record straight, as I said in my first post I’m a Republican. I voted for John McCain not because he was white, but because I agreed with more of his platform and ideas than I did with Obama. Skin color had nothing to do with it, believe me. If Condoleeza Rice had been running, I’d damn sure have voted for her. (At one time I was all for Colin Powell, but then he endorsed Obama and that soured me on him.) I didn’t vote for Obama for the following reasons:

1) He’s anti-gun. He voted for the Clinton Gun Ban, and if he had his way it would have been much more stringent and restrictive than the one that was passed. He also has plans to introduce a bill to pass this very ban, and if the Congress is controlled by the Democrats, he may just get it done.

2) He has this insane idea he calls the “redistribution of wealth.” In order words, he wants to take the money you and I make by our hard work and dedication, and GIVE it to the shiftless, lazy people among us who do nothing but sit on their asses all day, sucking off of the government tit rather than getting out and finding a job. Well, there’s a name for that, boys and girls – it’s called SOCIALISM.

3) As a part of this grand “redistribution of wealth” scheme, he wants to give rebate checks to PEOPLE WHO DON’T PAY TAXES. Excuse me, but just how stupid is that?

4) He said in one of his campaign speeches that when he won a primary in a state he didn’t expect to win that he was “finally proud of America.” And his bitch wife said the same thing later on. That is THE wrong thing to say to a career military man who also happens to be a war vet, lemme tell ya. That right there soured me on him for the rest of my life. I’ve ALWAYS been proud of my country, no matter what. That his country has to do something FOR him to make him proud makes me wanna puke. And then there’s that picture of him standing on a stage in front of an American flag with the two people behind him holding their hands over their hearts while the National Anthem is being played, and he’s standing there with his hands down in front of him. Like they say, one picture is worth a thousand words.

Personally, I don’t think the man is either qualified or deserving enough to be President, which is why I voted for McCain. But Obama won, even if it was for the wrong reason.

My hope now was most eloquently summed up by someone on the forum I frequent; he said, “I hope now that Obama is half as good as he says he is, and that he’s only half as bad as we think he is.” That just about sums it up.

I also hope that he doesn’t screw the pooch for another reason – if he does, he’ll set race relations back in the United States by about thirty years. It’ll be the last time a black man gets elected POTUS for a very long time (just as former Virginia governor Doug Wilder about that), and it will give the “one of US” crowd something else to complain about until the next black man finally gets elected POTUS.

Either way, it’s gonna be a very long four years.

Why I chose the name for my blog

If anyone is curious as to why I chose to name my blog "The View from Downrange," here's the answer.

"Downrange" is a military term that's used to describe the area where the bullets hit when you shoot at something. It's also used to describe in a general way where a group of soldiers are when they're outside the wire and out in the bush and you either don't know exactly where they are or can't say.

I felt this name was appropriate since, for the most part, like every other citizen of our nation I'm "downrange" when it comes to things happening around me. All I can do is stand there, watch the bullets hit around me, and hope one doesn't find me. The only time me or anyone else has a chance to actually change where the bullets may hit is once every four years in November, and in my humble opinion, we screwed that up this year....BIG TIME.

More on that later. Much more.

So for what it's worth, that's the reason I chose the name I did for my blog.

Well, the coffee's gone, the clock is ticking, and it's time to go to work and earn a living. I'd make a wisecrack about earning my pay so the government can give it away, but I said that last night, didn't I?

Oh, well, that's life "downrange."

A brief introduction...or something like that

One of the last things I thought I'd ever do was start a blog, but this morning right before I started to get ready for work the thought hit me - I needed an outlet to get some things out of my head, and the forum that I usually hang around on just didn't seem to be the place. I wanted a place I could call my own, I guess, so here it is. For what it's worth, anyway. I have no idea how many people - if any - will start following this blog, but for those that do here's what you can expect.

I'm an average citizen, an ordinary Joe in most respects. Nothing special about me, just another guy trying to make the best out of life and enjoy life while I can here on this green ball we call home. I'm honest to the point of brutality if I need to be, I call 'em as I see 'em, and I am NOT "politically correct." Actually, the mere mention of those two words makes my stomach turn.

Just because I'm from the South doesn't make me a racist - I was raised by my father to judge people by what they do and not by the color of their skin, and I've done that my whole life.

I try not to do or say anything that will piss anybody off, but there's no guarantees on that. If it happens, well, sorry about that. Either you were caught in the blast or you had it coming, one or the other.

I'm proud of our nation - always have been, always will be, and that's something our newly-elected president and his wife can't say. (Yeah, that's right, I'm also a Republican. Skin color has NOTHING to do with it.)

I don't believe in any form of a "hyponated" American, much like Teddy Roosevelt said a long time ago. I don't believe in "African-Americans," "Hispanic-Americans," "Irish-Americans," "Jewish-Americans," or any of that other PC bullshit. You're either an American or you're not, so make up your mind. I also believe that the sooner Congress gets off their overpaid, fat asses and makes ENGLISH our official language, the better. Maybe then you'll be able to walk into a store and NOT see signs in English and Spanish, or you won't be prompted to "press 1 for English" when you call a business on the phone. (To quote a line from "Pulp Fiction:" "ENGLISH, MOTHER FUCKER, DO YOU SPEAK IT!")

I like guns, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I believe completely and irrevocably in our Second Amendment right to own guns, and will never give up the fight to protect that right. "Gun control" means hitting what you're shooting at. And for the life of me, to my dying day I will NEVER understand why the anti-gun crowd doesn't understand the simple fact that so-called "gun control laws" will only be obeyed by honest citizens, and that the punks, thugs, thieves, rapists, and murderers in our society will completely ignore them. I have a feeling, though, that all it would take would be one chance encounter with one of the aforementioned punks to change the mind of the most rabid anti-gunner.

I'm also a biker. Yeah, I ride a Harley, I wear leather, I have loud pipes, and am damned proud of that, too. I have nothing against Japanese bikes, but I'll never ride or own one again. Kinda like going from a Honda to a Cadillac - once you make the jump, why go back? (And if I have to explain further than that, you won't understand.)

Well, that's about it for now. More will follow later...right now it's just after midnight and I have to work in the morning, so I ought to consider carrying my butt to bed and getting some sleep. Gotta go out there and earn some wealth so our new president can give it away, ya know?

Yeah, that's right, I'm one of those "bitter Americans" he was talking about. More on that later.

See ya.

IHC