JINKSTO

Tiny bubbles
In my beer
Makes me happy
Makes me full of cheer

Tiny bubbles
In my whiskey
Makes me happy
Makes me frisky

Tiny bubbles
In my wine
Makes me happy
Makes me feel fine

One of my favorite cadences from the days when I had to get up early and stand around in groups with other folks.

In a few minutes I’ll hop in the car and drive 500 miles to meet up with an old friend that I met through the military. I had been planning to ride the motorcycle but a nail in the rear tire has killed that idea. No matter, there’ll be whiskey the next few days and possibly some beer.

Meanwhile, the strawberry wine is coming along. Things are right on track and the fermentation is really cooking. That makes for lots of tiny bubbles in my wine and makes me feel fine.

Ok, that was a bit of a stretch, but there are and I do… back in a week… keep safe.

For Christmas my wife bought me a welder. No kidding, a real welding machine. Though I don’t use it often it is a great gift. It’s one of those things that I’ve always wanted but could never bring myself to buy. I just wasn’t able to justify the cost. It also drives further costs. You see, in order to have metal to weld together you also need something to cut it with which means an oxy-acetylene kit and those run about $800. So, I saved my pennies and bought a torch kit a couple of months ago justified solely by the fact that I have a welder… see how that works?

Having both a welder and a welding/cutting torch I needed a project to work on. This being North Carolina and having a long tradition of moonshining I decided that what Jinksto Casa Inc. needed was a Still! Of course, I’d only use it for distilling water… because that’s legal.

I found a place on the internet that would ship me a 5 Gallon glass carboy (think water bottle) and 5 one Gallon glass jugs. These being to give me a place to store my… umm… distilled water. The jugs have been sitting in a corner waiting for me to finish the still.

When I went on vacation a few weeks ago I accidentally left the oxygen bottle on my torch open and there is, apparently, a leak somewhere in either the hose or the gauges. Regardless, the result was that my torch doesn’t work until I spend the $25 to have the oxygen refilled. We’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to take care of getting more gas for the torch.

Yesterday I finally came to the realization that the Still will be a while in the making. Even when I had the torch working I only made minimal progress. Metal work is time intensive and though I’m making progress on it I really don’t have the time to invest in a quick turn around. This leaves a perfectly fine fermenting carboy…err.. I mean, water storage jug, empty and I do hate to see new toys sit idle. My Uncle makes wine. I’ve helped him. I have all of the equipment to make a go of it so it was off to the local Harris Teeter to see what was in the fruit section. Right inside the door they had two pound flats of Strawberries for $8. I debated just spending the money but in the end decided that to buy enough fruit to make 5 gallons of wine would be way more expensive than I wanted to spend on my first go at making wine. As I dejectedly set the flat down and started to look for something else to work with I noticed that the Strawberries were actually 2 for 1 with a store loyalty card. I don’t have a loyalty card but that’s not a problem. You see, they’re able to look up your card using your phone number and the last person to have my number DOES have a loyalty card.

When I get to the checkout the girl asks if I have a card and I say, “yes, but I don’t have it with me.”
“No problem, I can look it up for you.” she says sweetly, “What’s your phone number?”.
I tell her.
She punches the number in, checks the screen and says, “Mr. Morgan?”
“Yes.”

Somewhere there’s a geek doing statistics on a database and saying, “wow, this Morgan guy was shopping in North Carolina and New York on the SAME day… and he, apparently, LOVES strawberries!. The geek punches a key and someday soon Mr. Morgan is going to get a load of junk mail which contains 24 coupons for discount strawberries. Lucky Mr. Morgan. Loyalty cards for teh win!

Back home, I wash out the 5 gallon jug and fill it half full of warm water. I wash the Strawberries, “hull” them and then cut them in halves and quarters so that they’ll fit in the mouth of the jug. Once that’s done Mrs Jinksto helps me get 5 pounds of sugar in there and

we let it “set” overnight. Many people pre-dissolve the sugar in hot water before pouring into the bottle. After a day and a half of shaking a 5 gallon glass jug half full of water, 5 pounds of sugar and 10 pounds of strawberries in order to get the sugar to dissolve I can heartily recommend this “Pre-Dissolve” method.

In a bit, I’ll go add a bit of yeast to the mix and then it’ll be about six weeks of waiting to while the wine “makes”. If it turns out well, I’ll share the story. If you never hear about Strawberry wine again… it didn’t.

-Jinksto

On the right of this page there’s a log of people who visit. Many of those people I recognize just by location. There’s Graybeard over in Illinois (link at right) and Djay in Florida. There’s Mrs. Jinksto’s aunt in Louisiana and a coworker in London.

There are lot of people from Charlotte, Willathome and robhines (links for both at right) and of course MrsatHome and MrsHines. Sometimes though, I have the classic bloggers concerns… Who’s that person from California and how did s(he) get here. With my obvious progun and ultra conservative views, should I be worried about why I’m getting hits from D.C. or just be excited that the message is getting… somewhere.

In the blogging world it’s a bit frowned on to “beg for comments” but at the same time I’m interested in who you people are. If you see something that you like here please feel free to comment. If you see something that you don’t like… well, the same applies. Leave a comment and I’ll be happy to address your questions (or concerns…) either in comments or in a future post. If you just want to say “hi” then, please, feel free. I know that I sometimes hesitate to post comments on some of the blogs that I read because, “why would that person care” but I’ve found that most bloggers really DO care what you think. It’s fun to see others views posted in response to something that you’ve written. Whether it’s just to say, “hey, that touched me.” or to say, “I don’t understand your view here… what are you getting at.” or even to say, as Greybeard has once or twice, “err you might want to tone it down before the men in black show up”.

Anyway, the message for today is, if you read here, especially if you read regularly, please feel free to post comments. I’m really interested in who’s reading here and what your thoughts are. It also helps me avoid making mistakes like, oh, I don’t know… making references to an “elderly female relative” who reads my posts… (and who isn’t really elderly at all, it just fit well with the story.) Heck, with a little more interest I might even make the effort to change the sites subtitle from “UNEDITED, TYPOGRAPHICALLY UNSOUND, GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT MUSING ABOUT RANDOM THINGS” to “MARGINALLY EDITED, MOSTLY TYPOGRAPHICALLY SOUND, GRAMMATICALLY SEMI-CORRECT MUSINGS…” but no guarantees on that one.

So ends my “begging for comments” post. Today in the life of Jinksto was a lot of fun. I finished planting the garden and managed to spend some time with @robhines and assorted borrowed kids on the riverbank alternately fishing and playing with worms. Tomorrow promises to be another installment in the continuing saga of North Carolinatastic days.

-jinksto

I work at a global organization. Daily I speak to people in three or four different countries. I talk to high end type-A folks in New York and Chicago. I talk to Technical people in India and I talk to upper middle class folks in London. They all know who and what Jinksto is. I talk to people with Masters Degrees and Ph D’s and they respect me with my incomplete BS. I know what I’m talking about and I’m 24×7 balls to the wall at what I do. With my caints and aints and general redneck lingo i compete… and I win. I send them pictures of crawfish boils and pig roasts and then send them a 23 page treatise on why what they’re doing is ignorant, stupid and wrong.

Folks often say to me, “man you always make a big deal out of being from the south… why?”

That’s hard to explain. It’s nice to know who and what you are that’s for sure. I take comfort in who I am. I am confident that I can… and will… win in pretty much any situation that you put me in. I am American. I am Southern. I am rural. For me, that’s all I need and it explains it all.

I learned to shoot guns when I was 10 and I learned to drive dirt back roads when I was 13. I learned to hunt and fish during that time and at 14 I learned to fight because a friend of mine had a big mouth. I learned to grow everything that I eat in the garden not because it was the “back to nature cool” or “green” thing to do but because it was required to eat. I learned to build things with my hands not because it was nice to have a self dependency skill but because it was required if we wanted nice things. I had true friends… friends that would do anything for me. Friends that had values like mine.

I got one of those emails that gets forwarded around to folks. You know the ones that say “forward this to all of your friends that you know”. Oddly, this one fits me pretty well. The email was specifically about people from Louisiana but I think it applies generally to the south and to the southern culture. Maybe to the rural culture in general but I can only speak for those that I know.

As you read the following lines realize that this isn’t a kitsch repetition or a forwarded email. Realize that I have done everyone one of these things and would do them again. It’s about culture. It’s about love. You have to have lived it to understand.

Friends never ask for food.
Southern friends bring food.

Friends will always say hello when they see you.
Southern friends will give you a hug… and a kiss usually… when they see you.

Friends call your parents Mr and Mrs
Southern friends call your parents Mama and Sir.

Friends will sit beside you silently while you cry.
Southern friends will cry with you and give you a hug.

Friends will eat at your table and leave with a hearty handshake.
Southern friends eat at your table, help you wash the dishes and then hang out for three or four hours just to spend time with you.

Fiends will stay for a couple of hours and leave.
Southern friends will take their shoes off after about 2 hours.

Friends will leave if the rest of the crowd doesn’t want to do what you want.
Southern friends will hang back with you and kick anyone’s ass that has something to say about it.

Friends always knock first.
Southern friends open the door, come in and yell, “hey! Where ya’ll at!?”

Friends will join you in the living room or on the patio.
Southern friends will join you in the kitchen.

Friends will sometimes visit you in jail.
Southern friends will share a cell with you.

Friends will come to your mothers funeral.
Southern friends will tell the funeral director that they don’t care if the funeral home closes at 10… they’re staying the night.

Friends will visit you in the hospital or send flowers.
Southern friends will cut your grass, clean your house and then come spend the night with you in the hospital so that someone is there when you wake up. They’ll then cook for you when you come home.

Friends have your number of speed dial.
Southern friends can recite your number on demand… and your social security number.

Fiends will tell you when your children have misbehaved.
Southern friends will spank your kid and tell you that they were angels.

So that’s it I think. Where I come from there is love that you can never know until you’ve seen it. I’m proud of that and, really, I don’t care if you don’t get it.

-Jinksto

I ran out of steam on the “Hog Log” after other folks arrived and it just got too busy to take time out to write.  I should have taken notes. 

To make up for that here are a few pictures to show you what happened later in the day:

Here’s what things looked like earlier in the week before the fire.  For details on the whole rig check out Cooking with Jinksto:

Ms Jodi’s hammock got a Great workout.  From big ole adults to experimental loads of up to 7 kids.

We had people from every walk of life present.  Heck, we even had us our very own Princess!

[picture removed]

Here’s the whole rig with pig in process.  That’s Jinksto wearing a Bank of America hat.

Six hours later, neither of us have moved much.

Several different shots from different stages of “doneness”

Most of the crew.  There were a ton of kids not shown here off in the woods somewhere.

 

 

Terri Clark has a song called I wanna do it all.  You can listen to it over at youtube if you click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvmdcQ5Ut20 I was listening to this song today and I got to thinking about things I’d have liked to do. That got me to thinking about the song by Brad Paisley called Letter to Me (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fqtbMHfpXY) and wondered what I’d write to me of 20 years ago.  Turns out, it’s not a lot different from the way Brad sings it… guess that’s why I have all of his CD’s.

Me,
Just a quick note to let you know that you’ve lived past year 2000.  I know, I didn’t believe it either.   Crazy huh?

I don’t think that you turned out so bad but I wanted to give you a few pointers to help you out over the next 20 years. 

I know it looks rough right now.  Things are tight but you get used to that.  Yeah, that means you won’t get rich until you redefine what rich is so let me help you with that now.

Rich is meeting the love of your life.  A person that you can wake up to every morning and still say I love you to at least three times a day.  By the way, make that a rule.  Three times a day.  More is fine, less… not so much.  Remember that the love you feel for her will be two way.  She won’t do things to hurt you on purpose… probably… unless you deserve it… which you will.

Rich is meeting friends that are true friends.  None of your “friends” now will be around in 20 years.  But you’ll meet one of your best friends in a couple of years and another one quite a bit later.  Cherish those friendships when you find them.  There’ll be times when they’re all you have.

That’s all “rich” is.  You’ll find those things in time just make sure that you value them properly.

Read the bible sooner than later.  You’ll have a LOT of spare time on your hands in a few years so take advantage of that.   Read it slowly, take your time, understand the words.  Take to heart the things that are there.  You’ll need them more than you ever know.  Thank brother Fondren for a good start on life.  He’s done more than you know for your family and will continue to do so for many years.  Thank Ms. Joy while you’re at it.  Pray more often.

I know you’re in a hurry to get out into the world but trust me, you’ll see more of it than you need to and you’ll always wish you were back home.  You’ll find home again one day but it won’t be where you think it is and there’ll be a long road to get there.   I can only think of one thing that I wanted to do at your age that I haven’t managed.  I’m sure it’ll come around soon enough because there’s really nothing else on the list.  Oh, and it’s not flying an airplane… been there, done that. Congratulations.

Keep a list of people who have literally saved your life.  Don’t forget their names.  Seems an odd thing, I know but it can happen.

Buy a computer.  Soon. Spend everything you have on it.

Party like you mean it.  Pray the same way.

Listen to Mark more often than you do.  Dumbass.  Oh yeah, and call him more often.

Don’t drive drunk.  If you do, don’t leave the car parked on a college campus with the engine running, all of the doors open and the radio blaring.  I mean, not that something like that ever happens… just… you know… for reference.

Moderation in all things except Love. 

True love isn’t where you think it is but it’ll find you in it’s own time.

When someone who’s more than 20 years older than you speaks,   Listen.  Those folks won’t be around forever and there’ll be a lot that you wish you’d  listened to.

It’s ok to be Redneck.  Don’t change to please others.  Either they can appreciate the difference or they’re not worth the time.

One last thought:  You don’t find peace.  You make it.

Best Regards,

Me

P.S.
Hug Mama every chance you get.

P.S.S
Would you PLEASE keep the damned shop clean!?!?!

 

Things I wanted to do when I was 18:
[x] Fly a plane
[x] Know the brotherhood of men who have fought a war.
[x] Visit the Caribean
[x] Learn to Scuba Dive
[x] Jump out of a plane.
[x] Ride a Motorcycle.
[x] Ride a Bull (this actually turns out better than the Motorcycle)
[x] Ride a Mechanical Bull (yay Urban Cowboy)
[x] Live in a major city (this actually turns out worse than the motorcycle)
[x] Visit England
[ ] See the Northern Lights
[x] See the Grand Canyon
[x] See the West Coast.
[x] See the East Coast.
[x] Swim in the Ocean. (the Gulf of Mexico didn’t count)
[x] Call a bar home.
[x] Move out. 🙂
[x] Smoke a joint
[x] Own a four wheeler
[x] Own a four wheel drive
[x] Own a boat
[x] Own land.
[x] Meet someone that I can love forever. (nailed that one.  Don’t fuck it up)

Time: 0320
Temp: 46 Degrees
The wife pokes me awake.  She does it nicely. Whispering my name from the end of the bed repeatedly until I mumble a reply.
“Coffee is brewing.” she says when I mumble a reply. 
“ugh… what time is it?”
”3:20… sorry, I overslept a little”
”that’s ok.”
I roll out of bed and she rolls back in.  There are things to get done and I’m already late.  I get dressed and stumble outside for a quick look.  It’s beautiful.  I can see a cloud and all of the stars are shining brightly.  The moon rides low in the sky.  I love this time of day.  The “Oh My God it’s Early” time of morning.  As I wander out to the car to get the stuff I need I hear a car pass by on the highway and wonder where that person has to go at 3:30 in the morning.  It’s the only car I’ll hear for several hours.

I get a roll of fencing (36” X 50’) out that was produced from an emergency run to Lowes late last night.  They’re open until 10 on Friday night… 9 the rest of the week, unwarranted panic was the result. 

I toss a box of paper (“must burn” bills, credit card receipts, etc)  onto the prebuilt fire and pour a little lamp oil on it just to be sure that it gets going.  I needn’t have worried.  Also on the fire is our Christmas tree which is still bright green but decidedly dead. When the fire touches the Christmas tree the whole thing flares up and burns white hot for several minutes.  The fire is lit.  Trust me, you DO NOT want one of these suckers catching fire in your house.  You won’t put it out with a water hose.

The fencing is rolled out on a table and then it’s off to the guest bath where the pig spent the night on ice.  The butcher claimed that this pig weighed in at 55 lbs.  As I lift it out of the tub and onto shoulder I do not feel ripped off… 55lbs of dead weight is heavy.

The pig is laid out on top of the fence that I’ve rolled out on a folding table and then the fence wire is folded back over the top of it.  The two halves are tied together with various bits of wire so that our dinner is encased in the wire and can’t get away.  A metal bar is woven into each side to further tie the wire together and provide a support for hanging the whole mess near the fire.  The wired up pig is hung from a “fence stretcher”  this is a short piece of pipe with three hooks on one side and a metal ring on the other.  It’s used to tighten fencing when you’re putting it up but works nicely for this.  It looks a bit like a singletree with a third hook.

 

Time: 0420
Temp: 46 Degrees
The pig is hung by the fire and my mess cleaned up.  I run back inside and switch to a warmer shirt.  The coffee that I stared longingly at earlier is ready and waiting.  I pour a cup and go back outside.   As I walk out the first flight of the day passes overhead on the way to KCLT.  He’s still up pretty high, I guess about 4000 feet AGL, but in the quiet of early morning it sounds loud.  I know that there’ll be three more flights arriving in the next 15 minutes and then it’ll be quiet again for a few hours.  I don’t know what the flights are or where the originate.  I just know that there are three of them to be expected on Saturday mornings.  Other flights will arrive throughout the day but they’ll be missed in the activities of the day. 

I take my coffee and go sit by the fire and turn the pig to heat it evenly.  It’s peaceful work that I’ll be doing all day.  Through the woods I hear the neighbors dog drag his chain across his doghouse.  It’s a sound that I immediately recognize and I wonder how many others would know that sound.   Somewhere a rooster wakes up and gives a call for the sun… he’s early.  He can wait.  Turn the pig.

 

Time: 0545
Temp: 46 Degrees
Still turning the pig.  Watching the fire.  I decide that I want to share what I see so drag an extension cord out to the fire and fetch a laptop.  My wireless reaches out here easily.  For the next hour I write and turn the pig.

Time: 0634
Temp: 47 Degrees
The sky is lightening up and there’s not a cloud in it.  @Willathome who was tasked with praying for good weather today must be living right because he’s worked out a fantastic deal.   The sky fades from nearly white on the eastern horizon to pink to pastel purple to blue. I am in awe… as is normal… at what He has wrought.  The Sun will arrive soon and start warming things.  The birds are already awake.  I can identify some of them by their calls but there’s such a medley of them right now that I can’t separate them.  I hear the deer feeder down the hill trigger and toss a pound of corn to the ground.  A dog barks in the distance.  A turkey gobbles. The fire burns.  The pig turns.

Friends of mine earlier this week got the following invitation. We’ve spent the last few days getting a fire built the tools ready. The pig is currently on ice and awaiting an early morning visit from Jinksto. I’ll be up at 3am and to get the fire lit and the pig in close proximity to it. There’ll be about 30 or 40 people here tomorrow (counting kids) so it should turn into one heck of a get together.

In honor of your participation in voting in the November election and in protest of the resulting Stimulus plans, “tax cuts”, TARP’s, Omnibus bills and other General Waste and since we all seem to be so excited about pork lately, you are hereby invited to attend…

 

The First Annual

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where:

Jinksto’s House.  Check out this map and learn some of the detailed history of this fantastic area!  If you need assistance, give us a call at 704 827 XXXX

Map Removed 🙂
View Tommy’s House in a larger map

 

When:

This Saturday.  Cooking starts at about 4a.m. and concludes about 2p.m.  Savvy folks will recognize this as an all day event and will know their own JTF (Jinksto Tolerance Factor).    Subtract your JTF from the expected time of completion and arrive at or near then.

What:

Bring a covered dish if you like.  There will be Pork and Banana Pudding.  Other than that, I aint organizing nothin… Bring what you like and bring enough to share (cookin’s hungry work).  Other than that just bring yourself and your happy face.   If you think it’d be nice to bring a bottle of wine see rule 12.  If, on the other hand, you want to bring a bottle of wine for yourself please feel free.  Oh, and feel free to share.

Rules, Notes and For Your Safety items:

1. It is required that you have a good time.
   1. If you fail in this, leave.
2. There will be people who drink alcohol present.
   1. If that’s a problem for you then please ensure that it’s only a problem for you, don’t make it someone else’s problem.
   2. If you don’t wish to drink then don’t. 
   3. If you do drink be sane, see the next rule.
   4. If you’re old enough to drive and old enough to drink then you’re old enough to know not to do both at the same time.
   5. If you need a floor to sleep on,  that can be arranged.
   6. Rum and Vodka (and a few other things) are available on the bar. If you want some help yourself, I’m not a bartender.
      1. Oh, and don’t bother asking…. I didn’t invite anyone that I wouldn’t share Rum with.
   7. Beer… bring all you want!
      1. Drink all you bring or feel free to return home with it.
      2. Barring that feel free to add it to the stack of six month old beer that others have left here.  Or heck, just drink that!!
3. There will be children present.
   1. Remember that.  This is a family affair.  Don’t offend my family.
4. There will be republicans present. 
   1. If you’re not, that’s cool but do remember that you’re outnumbered.
   2. Also remember that we have guns, 4 acres of land and shovels
5. There will be a prayer before we eat.
   1. Feel free to pray to your own god if you don’t like ours.  Just don’t do it where we have to listen.
   2. If you don’t believe in God let us know and we’ll pray for you while we’re at it. 
   3. If you don’t wish to participate that’s fine too.  Just be quiet.
6. There will be a very large fire for the roasting of our porcine pal.
   1. It is the responsibility of EVERY adult to ensure that the kids stay safe.
   2. If it’s not your kid, you can yell at it anyway if it’s close  to the fire.
   3. If it’s REALLY close to the fire grab it by the ears and roll it down the hill..
   4. If your kid gets yelled at (or rolled down the hill), the proper response to someone else telling (or helping) your kid to move away from the fire is, “Thank You”
7. If someone offends you:
   1. Fix yourself a drink at the bar.
   2. If they offend you again then fix THEM a drink at the bar.
   3. Continue this cycle until either they stop are you forget why you went to the bar.
   4. Exception: If it was Jinksto just take the bottle and get over it.
8. There will be a Southern Cross Proudly flown.   
   1. If you think it’s racist, we’re sorry that you’ve been misinformed.
   2. If, on the other hand you ARE racist, just say something cool like, “Oh Hell Yeah!  Fly that banner brother!”.  This way we’ll know that you’re one of the sad lot that have trampled the proud tradition behind those colors and subverted them into your own dirty little world to the point that I have to go to all of the trouble to write these two rules.  You know what… on second thought, don’t even bother coming… it’s probably better if we don’t have to bury more than one body.
9. The music has been preselected for the comfort and enjoyment of all present.
   1. If you don’t like the selected music please feel free to complain to Jinksto loudly.
      1. Remember that we’ve left the feet attached to the pig to ensure even cooking and that Jinksto gets to pick who gets which piece.
         1. We’re glad you enjoy country music.
10. At some point there will be an exploration of the property for the kids.  Jinksto has a creek that’s perfect for wading in.  It’s about knee deep to a two year old.
    1. There’s Mud!!!!!!!!
    2. What I’m getting at is that you shouldn’t dress them in their “Sunday go to meetin’ clothes” unless you want your kid to be the one pouting on the side of the hill… you know, the one with the mean parents?
11. Eat all you can!  Leftovers suck!
12. If you absolutely must bring an alcoholic gift, it’s called “Captain Morgan Private Stock” and it’ll go on the bar where everyone can enjoy.
13. Jinksto gets to make up rules on the fly.
    1. But only Jinksto.

 

Most of these rules are made in Jest.  However, if there is anything at all that we can do to help or make your time with us more enjoyable just ask.  If you got invited it’s because we like you.  Have a Party.  Pass a good time.  Take pictures.

Charlotte Teaparty.  THIS WEDNESDAY.

 

Time:  2-4PM
Location:  The lawn at City Hall (Old County Courthouse)
600 E. Trade St.
Charlotte, NC 28202

A few weeks ago I went on a little vacation.  It was only for a week and the wife and I ran back to our family stomping grounds in Louisiana for a family event.  I love traveling in America in the spring.  The dogwoods blooming along I85 and I20 across the south are beautiful.  As you travel tiny bursts of white dot the landscape of still dormant hardwoods.  It reminds me that not everywhere in America is LA or New York City or Chicago and it reminds me that what we’re doing is important.

As we traveled we stopped about every two hours for either food or gas or… well, you know.  Through quick conversations with gas station attendants, listening to the trucks on the CB and nighttime chats with the folks at the campgrounds that we stopped at with our travel trailer I happened on a piece of America that gets forgotten.  The everyday, hardworking folks that are America.  The “silent majority” who don’t have time to keep up with politics.

They’re not “entitled urbanites” or radical protestors.  They’re just everyday people from all walks of life.  They get up everyday and go to work so that people like me can get gas and food or find a place to sleep for the night.  They’re the people that haul everything that you have from one place to another.  They’re butchers, bakers and, I’m sure, candlestick makers.  They’re the guy that owns a crawfish stand in central Louisiana and the lady that owns the donut stand in Alabama and the guy in Mississippi selling turnip greens on the side of the road.  They’re lower class, middle class, upper class and they’re tired.

They’re out there every day, sweating to make the next mortgage payment, the next medical bill or the next semesters tuition for a kid that’s the first kid in the family to go to college.  They haven’t “begged for help” and they haven’t been given any.  In some places it’s been offered and turned down because it’s not the Governments place to help them and they know it.  They don’t want help.  They just want to be given the money that they’ve earned and be left alone.

In all of those places between Charlotte, North Carolina and Anacoco, Louisiana (just go ahead and Google it, you’ve never heard of it :0) everyone that I met had plenty to say about a lot of things.  But in the end, all of the conversations turned to politics.  I wasn’t looking for the conversations but in all of them the talk eventually turns to the state of the country.  In all of them the economy comes up.  In all of them the words, “but they’re all dirty and there’s nothing we can really do about it”, will eventually come up in one form or another.

We are, it would seem, a defeated people.  When I heard this I tried to explain that there is still hope.  That there are people out there that are just like them that are doing something about it.  That there are, believe it or not, politicians in this world who are there for the right reasons and have the country’s best interest at heart.  They are few and far between these days but they are there and they’re democrat, republican or independent so whatever your “political religion” you can vote for them but we have to find those people.  Find them and vote for them and then find more like them and vote for them too.   In the end though all of the conversations came back to a single question, “Yes, but what can we do… NOW.”

That’s, actually, a fair question.  I had forgotten that, regardless of what the media would have you believe, we are a nation of “doers”.  We didn’t get where we are through hand outs and government spending.  We got where we are as a nation by doing.  By getting up every morning between 5:30 and 7:00 in the morning and putting our backs into the work that was placed before us and making it go away.  We want something that we can touch; something that we can get our hands dirty doing.  We want to effect change now.  Not in two years and not in four years.  Now… today.

Here’s a little known secret.  Politicians want to keep their jobs just like you and I want to keep ours.  Other than the small few that want to do the right thing and hope for the best most of them will flip on an issue, any issue, if they believe that the right number of votes are in it for them.  Knowing this gives us the leverage to make things change. 

We all know that the way to “buy” a congressman is to donate money to his campaign fund.  That works because the more money he has in that fund the more likely he is to get re-elected and keep his job.  A congressman’s vote isn’t bought by that money.  It’s bought by all of the votes that he can buy in the next campaign with the money that you give him.  There’s another way though.

If enough of us stand up on April 15th and say, “THIS is what you are doing wrong.  THIS is how you are losing our votes.  THIS is what is going to happen to you if you don’t change the direction of this country and stop the spending” they’ll stop.  They’ll have to.  They are politicians and playing to the demands of the populous is what they do.  Heck, it’s how we got in  this mess in the first place.  The “Silent Majority” sat on our  hands for too long and let the noise makers influence our country into a socialist state and now we’re paying the price.  If we stand up and say to them, “stop or you’ll lose our votes” then they’ll stop and they’ll stop today, simple as that.  If they don’t, we’ll just stand up again on July 4th and again and again and again.

So, what can you do to change this country?  What can you do to stop the spending and waste?   You can stand up with us at the Old County Courthouse in Charlotte on April 15th from 2 until 4pm and tell them that you’re mad as hell.  That’s all there is too it.  You simply have to let the politicians know that there are millions of votes looking for the right person and if they become that person then they can have those votes.  It’s like buying your own politician, only cheaper.  Including travel time it’s a three hour investment in your future and in the country that we’re leaving to your Children.  Heck, it won’t even be boring.  There’ll be all sorts of fun things going on and you’ll be hanging out with people just like you.  Call in sick, take the day off or take half a day off and leave early.  Bring the family!

We’re not a bunch of radicals out to cause trouble.  There are enough of those already and we don’t need more.  We’re people just like you who are tired at the end of a days work and want more of the money that we earn to go into our pockets.   Our backs ache, just like yours, from standing on our feet too long or swinging a hammer for too long.  Our heads hurt, just like yours, from trying to sort out how we’re going to pay the electric bill, cover the school lunches and still have enough left over to take the kids to an occasional movie.  You’ll find that you’re not alone in feeling betrayed.  You’ll find that there is something that you can do.  You’ll discover that there are indeed politicians out there that hear you and, with enough of us, you’ll find that even more politicians are willing to consider looking just a little more towards the goals and ideas that have made this country great.   Best of all you’ll find that you’re not alone.  You’ll be among friends regardless of your political orientation.

So, until Wednesday, enjoy the North Carolina weather and don’t forget to notice the dogwood trees.

Time:  2-4PM
Location:  The lawn at City Hall (Old County Courthouse)
600 E. Trade St.
Charlotte, NC 28202

Jinksto

 

From my last post you know that I’ve been on vacation for the last week.  In that time we drove about 3000 miles over 11 days.  That’s enough time for 853 emails to stack up in my inbox at work (as a passive way of saying “I was too busy to post until now”) but not enough time to see everyone that I wanted to see.   We got to see the important folks like Mrs Jinksto’s Aunt and Uncle and my Brother and family but missed a few of the ones that I haven’t seen in years.   A few others were mixed into the “got to see them” bunch but they don’t read this so I won’t get in trouble for skipping a few of the names. 

I learned something on this trip. 

It’s probably an obvious thing to most but not something that I’ve had to deal with directly.  Mrs. Jinksto and I don’t have kids and that was the core of my mistake.  

You see, I’ve always fallen for the “glowing mother to be” bit.  Pregnancy, for me, has always been like that picture of the Virgin Mary that they have in Sunday School books.  You know the one, with the glowing mother to be sporting a halo while comfortably seated on a donkey with a serene look on her face as Joseph leads it through the streets?  It was a beautiful thought.  One that I’ve had for nearly 40 years.  Being around my sister in law over the last week…

let’s stop there and get straight that this isn’t about HER, it’s about women in general who are “with child” and should in no way be construed to mean my sister in law.  Who is very sweet…  Always. jinksto aint no fool…

anyway… after spending a week at my brothers house I learned something. 

That peaceful, serene thing?  It’s reserved for church picnics when everyone is fawning over how radiant they look.  Any other time; Evil.  Yes, that’s right.  Pure, unadulterated (err that’s not a pun), Evil.  The kind they make movies about around Halloween time.  The kind that involves chainsaws and axes.

While in Louisiana we all went down for an ultrasound… like the whole family.  It’s one of those 4D slick things where they can take a picture of the baby in the womb.  The whole thing was rather cool and not nearly as weird as it sounds but that isn’t what this story is about.  Maybe I’ll do a full post on that later.

While  we were at the 4D ultrasound place, the lady who was to have an ultrasound done after us showed up about 15 minutes early.  As we came out of the room she glared at me with hate.  Hate.  Not displeasure.  Pure, raw hatred.  I’ve never met this woman before and she hated me because… well, I don’t know why but she did. 

When my sister in law followed us out of the room some sort of pregnant person hormonal exchange occurred and like a couple of dogs marking territory everything sort of became peaceful but with a wary dangerous feeling in the air.  No one made any sudden moves and everything came out ok.  I’ve been in war zones that were less hostile.

Later, we stopped by Baby’s R Us to pick up a new rocking chair and I began to understand.  A woman came into the store and asked a clerk where the buggy’s were. She was told that they were in the little foyer thing just behind her.  Her response? 
“You mean I have to go BACK outside to get  BUGGY?!  This is ridiculous! I don’t know how you can treat people like this!”

Yes darlin’, you have to walk three steps backwards because you were too stupid to get a buggy on the way in.  I’m sorry that the world is out to get you. 

As we were wandering through the store I felt like a prison escapee in at a Law Enforcement convention.  Everywhere you looked they were there.  As they passed each other you could hear low growls of warning to stay back.  I stayed back.

When we got to the parking lot I watched a woman in the “expecting customers special parking” (who the hell even knew there was such a thing?) get in her car and just start backing up.  She didn’t look.  She didn’t wait for the car behind her to move.  She just got in and backed up.  The guy driving the car behind her had apparently been through this and floored it trying to get away.   As he flew by I noted the look of terror on his face.

So, yeah, I learned something.  I learned that picture that they have in the Sunday school books?  It was painted by a guy with a pregnant woman standing behind him.  Probably with a blunt object of some kind.

And Joseph in that picture… he was walking for a reason.