An Open Letter to all Reasonable...

 Moderate Republicans, 

 Hi Guys we need to talk. In the past few decades, you folks have been asleep at the wheel. The Party of Lincoln  allowed the Fox Fake News Network into the hen house. Moderates like yourselves are culpable to the recent chaos and calamity heaped unto our 224 year old Democracy. BUT you can now be part of a sensible solution. It wasn’t all that long ago the GOP preached fiscal responsibility, the “compassionate conservatism” of George W. Bush  and family values. 

Regretfully, the Republican political platform has now morphed into something strange and sinister.  What the Hell happened! What led up to this infamous moment in our shared history?

As usual I have strong opinions. My take is that it began in the 70’s and 80’s with the Sagebrush Rebellion. A western states movement in which supporters favored limited Federal Government control over Public Lands, including ownership. Many wanted to see a western landscape dotted with “For Sale” signs. 

The movement gained traction when candidate Reagan dramatically proclaimed, “I happen to be one who cheers and supports the Sagebrush Rebellion. Count me in as a rebel.” A few months later at his Inauguration, Reagan declared, “Government is not the solution to our problem, Government IS the problem.” Here’s the  Leader of the Federal Government dissing the organization he represents. Now isn’t that special! 

Reagan planted the seeds of mistrust of Government. It’s cool to be a Rebel.

 Reagan’s Administration favored tax breaks to the wealthy (AKA Trickle Down Economics. In other words, telling the commoners it’s raining when they’re really pissing on our backs), and deregulations. (Clean air, water and land are so overrated.).

In Congress the years went by with a Newt Gingrich divisive attitude between the aisles. Compromise and placing Country over Party became so passé. 

Then came the Tea Party bitching once again about high taxes and too much regulation. OY! 

In 2009 a Harvard Educated Black Man moved into the White House for eight years. For many Whites this was an  “End of Days” scenario.

When Obama’s cycle was almost done, the long drawn out process of transfer of presidential power began. Out of the depths of an overflowing Porta Potty rose the GOP’s candidate. A loathsome liar with a history of placing his hands where they don’t belong. As a DC outsider he promised to “Drain the Swamp,” hire only the “best” people and build the Great Wall of Racism with Mexican Pesos. The demagogue pointed his fat finger at Muslims, Mexicans and immigrants blaming them for out Nation’s woes. The Con Man perpetrated the myth of Obama’s African birth.. He was telling it like it is. The mobs loved it.

The Trumpism movement attracted the attention of Libertarians, (a nice way of saying Anarchists),  NRA gun nuts who appreciated the twenty Newtown, CT children who laid down their lives to preserve the Second Amendment, CINO’s (Christians in Name Only), JINO’s (Jews in Name Only) and of course well armed White Supremacists (AKA White Taliban). All these strange bedfellows had found their Leader. We know what happened next.

The moderates wrongfully believed they could control this rabid loser. They’d use Trump to achieve their goals. Yep! You guessed it. Lower taxes for the Uber wealthy and deregulation. However, the moderates overestimated their power. and underestimated Trump’s win at all cost strategy, even if it meant destroying our Democracy. Now we’re all in a fine mess. 

As moderate and reasonable Republicans you are now faced with a lose-lose situation. Flush the GOP of Trumpism starting with the 147 Congressmen and 6 Senators who voted to overturn the election results based on an alternative reality OR walk away and start a third party. Maybe call it Whigs II. I know. Tough choices, but it’s high time you grew a spine. This Dark Moment in our history occurred under your watch. Deal with it.

Final thought: There’s a reason this wasn’t an open letter to ALL Republicans. The extreme side of the GOP is BUSY! They are maneuvering and making plans to violently overthrow a legitimately  elected Government. For the sake of all reasonable people, let’s hope the Second Beer Hall Putsch fails.

BTW: Has anyone ever seen Obama’s Kenyan birth certificate? Yeah, neither have I. 

Drain the Cesspool! Make America Sane Again!

In November 2020, people will wake up...

blink a few times, look around and notice America isn't any greater. In fact, it'll be a lot worse. Many of you will look at the bottle of snake oil you purchased from the Billionaire Con Man, and read the fine print. 

"These four years of Bad Government are non-refundable."

The above was a quote from my  “Here’s a Virtual Toast to the New Dark Ages” blog. I posted it on New Year’s Eve 2016. In it, I made many predictions. More than half turned out to be correct. (Particularly, our Nation becoming a “Banana Republic.”)

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/12/heres-virtual-toast.html

The post generated a lot of feedback. Here’s some examples:

“Jeff! It won’t be that bad. It’s just a typical political pendulum swing.”

“Don’t worry, his family will reel him in..”

“Trump will still have to maneuver through Congress.” 

“He’ll grow into the position. Who knows? Maybe Trump will turn out to be a great President.”

I responded to all with my usual semi-insane grin, “No. No. No. it’ll be bad. You guys weren’t paying attention. The bastard has no conscience. There is no low-bar. You’ll see.” 

In the past four years, our country has lurched from one controversy or crisis to another. Corruption and abuse of presidential powers became the new Rule of Law. Then again, what could we expect from a sociopathic serial Liar? 

That said the World’s Biggest Loser couldn’t have pulled this stunt off without enablers. GOP suck ups and sycophants stuck with him like toilet paper on a shoe. 

The results have been a chaotic form of non-Government. 

And along came Covid. 

In the past, America’s leaders often rose to the occasion of a calamity. Their speeches were geared toward ALL Americans. Something along these lines. My fellow Americans we have a problem. For the good of all, lets work together to find a workable solution. 

But NOOOO! At a time when the US needed Leadership and a strong Federal Response, the Self described Stable Genius fumbled the ball. He pet the pooch. He went contrarian at a historical moment which called for unity. The results have been catastrophic and devastating.

On November 3rd, 2020, voters went to the polls, oftentimes braving Covid and the elements to make a statement. Enough of this BS. Go away Fat Man. We want grown up Government again. 

As we know the story didn’t end there. 224 years of peaceful transitions of power has been interrupted by a Cretin. Since the Election reasonable Americans have been  witnessing a train wreck in slow motion. The culmination was a premeditated attempted White Taliban coup, incited by a Scumbag who swore to uphold the concepts laid forth in our Constitution. 

Here’s his inspiring speech to the Rebels without a clue.

“We're going to walk down to the Capitol. You’ll never take back our country with weakness, you have to show strength, and you have to be strong,” 

Then Mr. Bone Spurs retreated to a Covid incubator tent along with his Evil Spawn. Later, Donald Dumbest Junior released a video of what transpired in that virus sauna. The vibe seemed festive as if they were viewing the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, instead of a day of infamy. I felt revulsion, anger and nausea at the same time. I want to see them all in Orange jumpsuits.

We aren’t done with this four year shit show. The former Commander in Tweet still owns the Bully Pulpit. Unless the 25th Amendment is invoked or Impeachment II, there will be more wanton acts of arson to our democratic institutions and principles. There will be more senseless death and destruction. 

When the smoke and tear gas settles, (if we make it through to 1/20/21) all Americans need to do some soul searching. There are tyrants in the world. Evil exists. Democracy requires a hands on approach for it to work. We are now seeing the 2016 results where too many good intentioned Americans sat on the sidelines. This is how Democracies die.

I’ll leave you with a notable quote which sums up our present situation:

“The absurd lie of all the divisive hucksters who have seized control of this country-that you don’t have to answer for anything anymore, so long as it’s done in the name of patriotism and the American way of life.”

From “Chosen Country.” By James Pogue

What’s your Covid number?

Winter has struck in Durango. I don’t venture outdoors too often, Its potential hypothermia and icy out there. I now find myself in extended periods of solitary confinement. 

Fortunately I still posses an active imagination. ( I haven’t murdered all the gray matter with my daily solo IPA Happy Hours. Yet! )

So without further ado, my blog...

There’s 331 million Americans with nearly that many opinions on dealing/existing with the scourge of Covid. We need to quantify where we all stand, sit or lie down on this complicated issue. So I invented the “Sambini Covid Zero-to-Ten Scale of Pathogen Personal Prerogatives.”

I know what you’re thinking. What the Hell is that! Patience Grasshopper while I explain. 

And in the beginning Jeff created a scale....

0: An American who asks, “What’s Covid?”

1: Americans who claim the virus is nothing more than a hoax. They refuse to wear masks. It runs counter to their individual rights. They consider themselves to be True Patriots. Just ask them.

2: Americans who are Covid aware, but believe it’s transmitted from contact with dirty toilet seats. Therefore no need to wear a mask.

3: Americans who will begrudgingly mask up to gain access to a public building. Once inside, masks migrate below their chin line. 

4: Americans whose masks slide below their noses. We’ve all seen this look. 

5: These are the middle-of-the-roaders. They are Team Players who will don masks in public buildings, yet they bear a business as usual approach to the pandemic. They are so-so about social distancing. If pressed, they will state, “I won’t live my life in fear of Covid.” 

6: Is a 5’er who won’t shake your hand or give you a hug.

7: Americans who wear a mask in all public buildings and occasionally in outside settings. They won’t be found in an inside bar, restaurant or on an airplane. Seven’s will have occasional lapses of good judgement at outdoor social gatherings. Abundant alcohol use is often the cause. (I confess! I’m guilty!) 

8: Americans who have changed their routines and schedules around Covid. Eight’s will limit their exposure to other Americans. They’ll grocery shop at the opening bell when most others are still in bed. They’ve pared their needs to the basics. Food, alcohol and a quarterly haircut. 

9: Extreme mask use and very limited public appearances. These are the people seen wearing a mask while driving alone.

10: The Uber extreme side of Covid. They’ve gone missing since the initial March lockdown. All food, alcohol and other necessities are Amazon Prime delivered. If your timing is perfect you might see an outstretched gloved hand snatching up a bevy of cardboard boxes. Their homes are hermetically sealed too. 

That’s my easy to follow rating system.

In America no invention/idea is worth anything if you can’t sell or scam it. Since my book sales have been more or less comatose like my social engagements, 

(Find “Destroying Demons on the Diagonal” on Amazon below:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B006VXRMUG/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

I’m launching the Sambini “What’s your Covid Number?”  line of t-shirts, jackets, sweatshirts  and of course masks.

My activewear will feature “COVID” in bright contrasting colors in the front and on the back. Below that will be your number on how you personally view the virus. ( I probably won’t sell many 0’s, 1’s or 10’s.) I’ll make a great line of clothes—and nobody makes better clothes than me, believe me. And I’ll make the manufacturer’s pay for that great gear. Mark my words. 

Plus with every sale you’ll get a free set of Ginsu knives. Such a deal!

BTW. I consider myself to be a solid 7.5.

Cheers to a better 2021, (no matter what your number is.)

Jeff

Our Worst Years.

We’ve all had them. 365 days when nothing seems to go right. We feel jinxed and abhor these extended moments. We crave to tack up a new wall calendar, one with the promise of better days ahead.

In my 66 years, I’ve had two notable years that (I’ll be blunt) SUCKED! 

In 1972, I was just seventeen when my dear Mom passed away. To this day, I dwell on how I lost years of her potentially positive influence. There was so much more goodness, gentleness and generosity I could have acquired from that tiny woman. I feel like I was robbed of so many lessons I might have learned. 

2010  was the beginning of another infamous year. In the late fall, a driver made a hard left into me and my bicycle. My helmeted head and shoulder snapped off the sedan’s side mirror. My left knee twisted. I didn’t lose consciousness, so I came up cursing. The young male driver was wise enough to apologize. This incident triggered a downward spiral of poop including:

A) The worst orthopedic quack in the world ignoring the prescribed MRI report. Thus performing an unnecessary surgery on a knee that was merely bruised but not broken. I came out of surgery barely able to amble. Apparently his arthroscopic skill level bordered on barbaric. Weeks later, when I called him on his haste not to glance at my MRI report, his retort? “I only scoped you. Get over it.” I should have decked him.

B) I began 2011 attending PT sessions to relearn how to walk. It was well into March before I could limp up trails. As part of my PT I hesitantly returned to bicycle riding. By April, I performed my favorite Tucson activity. I left.  On July 11th, I was bicycle touring in Montana when I was struck from behind by a speeding sedan. An accident which should have killed me, but I beat the odds. It takes more than 11 broken vertebrae, a busted sternum and 20 stitches in my face to put me in an urn. So...back to PT I went to alleviate the damages. I freaking hated 2011. I was robbed by three nincompoops of a year’s worth of play, health and happiness. If you’re detecting bitterness, you are correct.

2020 of course has been rotten for most of humanity. As the saying goes, “Misery loves company.” For once I have plenty of company, but I can’t speak to them without wearing a mask. Forget about touching anyone! It’s been a tough year to be sociable. Even for a hermit who occasionally socializes like me. 

We’ve all been robbed physically, emotionally, economically and for 323,000 Americans their very existence. It’s been one drawn out mess. We are now mired down in a winter of Covid discontent. New cases and daily death counts are soaring. A pathogen caused 911 disaster each day.

BUT! There’s hope on the horizon. It comes in a little vial and requires two applications. Yes, the vaccine. I’m waiting impatiently until it’s my turn at bat. Until then I’ll stay in solitary confinement. However, I’m well aware that the vast majority of Americans need to get onboard the vaccination train. It’s the way to achieve Herd Immunity. It’s not called Lone Wolf Immunity for a reason. Please. Be a Team Player so we can all reenter into a more normal society. (I’ll buy you drinks at a real Happy Hour if you do!) 

Wishing you and yours a saner, safer and healthier 2021.

Cheers,

Jeff

Last photo: Take That 2020!

“We always have food...

on the table.” Was my father’s go-to response when one of his three boys was kvetching for a materialistic goo gag we weren’t going to get. If we kept whining, Sid would just say an emphatic “NO!” (I think that was his favorite word.) 

We were kids. It all seemed so harsh. Sheesh! What’s the big deal! Everyone had food on their tables.  But now that I’m older and I think wiser, I see where Sid and Clara were coming from. They both witnessed the Great Global Depression. They also saw how chaos can reign when a German Madman instigates extreme population control measures. Also known as: WW II and the Holocaust. I’m sure in those disruptive times consistently putting food on the table was a BIGLY deal.

When the Sambur Boys became established, there was always food on our table and everywhere else! Mom would admonish me to “Eat! Eat! Eat!” Which I Did! Did! Did! When I reached the age of Bar Mitzvah, I weighed as much as I do now. Except! I was eight inches shorter. Yes. I had a lot of excess schmaltz on me. 

But Sid and Clara were equal opportunity food distributors. Friends, family, strangers and the Prophet Elijah were always asked, “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” No one left on an empty stomach. 

Guess what? Mosey to my house or camper and I’ll ask you the same questions. (With an offer of an IPA or coffee depending on the time of day.) 

Now in Durango, I’m still working at getting a feel for the town. The other day I was scrolling along on Facebook. Past the endless stream of photos of dogs, babies, scenic wonders and political rants when I noticed something. There on the “Be KIND Durango CO” page was a photo of a young woman and her two tow-headed tykes. Her message was simple. “My kids are hungry. Can anyone help, please?” 

So sad! I looked at the comments. Good Durango Samaritans rose to the occasion offering meals, money and advice. More than one person suggested she check out the Durango Food Bank. It looked to me that this situation was temporarily under control, but it got me thinking.

People hungry in La Plata County? Who knew? 

I checked the Durango Food Bank’s website. Their motto: “Working to Feed our Neighbors in Need. “ 

http://durangoareafoodbank.org/

I continued wandering around the site when I discovered this: 

• There are an estimated 6,420 food insecure individuals in La Plata County.…missing at least 1 meal per day.
• 5% of La Plata County’s children are experiencing hunger

OY! I made a check out to the Food Bank and sent it. Surely I could do more. Which triggered this note to my neighbors. 

Now I’m waiting for the kindness and generosity to flow into that cardboard box.

I can’t help but think Sid and Clara are watching these events unfold from upstairs. Mom would poke Sid and say, “Look Jeffy is helping put food on peoples tables.” Sid might chime in,  “Clara, we did a good job. I think we raised a mensch.” 

This Holiday Season, be a mensch or mensch-ette. It’s the season for giving.

“Let all who are hungry come and eat.” 

Quote from a Passover Seder Haggadah 

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Jeff

Routine Covid Survival...

“Woke up, fell out of bed

Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Made my way upstairs and had a smoke
And everybody spoke and I went into a dream.” 

In “A Day in the Life.” John Lennon and Paul McCartney poetically describe the start of a UK workday. There’s a routine to it. A sameness. 

. 

Currently La Plata County is in a Level Red - Severe Risk of Covid status. We’re in semi-lockdown. No one is pleased about this.

So I’m hunkering down (again) and seeking soothing sameness. Considering the circumstances, I’ll refrain from calling it “a rut.” Here’s my routine:

Wake up between 5-5:30ish am. Stumble down the stairs (without hurting myself) to flip “on” the coffee pot. (Six cups precisely). Cradle coffee cup in the crook of my left arm, while staring at my I-Pad in order to absorb The NY Times Morning Brief. Next I’ll read emails, Google this or that, dial in Weather.com to see if it’ll be warm and sunny or cloudy and cold. 

All the while the Anti-SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) light is wedged between the La-Z-Boy and my right thigh. This simple fix, fools my senior brain into believing there’s more than 9 hours and change of daylight in this 0-Dark-Thirty time of the year. It’s not a placebo. It really helps.

By first light, I’m sort of conscious, oriented and alert. I’ll start exercising (push-ups, hefting  weights around and balancing on a Fit Ball) while on the outside deck my company begins to arrive. That’s the chickadees, sparrows, grosbeaks, woodpeckers, doves, jays and other feathered freeloaders who flicker about my feeders. They are welcome guests. I unleash my first smile of the day. 

That task done, I’ll make my bed (only to have to undo it 15 hours later) tidy up the place for visitors who don’t visit and guests who are only here in spirit. 

Then time for breakfast! That doesn’t take long.

More putzing around until it’s warm enough to venture outside. Thus starts the best part of my day! I’m off for a 5-10 mile stroll/hike in hopefully Covid-free fresh air. 

Then back to solitary confinement. Eat an unexciting late lunch. Head upstairs to read by the last whiffs of daylight. Shower and shave. (Good hygiene matters even in pandemic times). Back downstairs to pop one of two Happy Hour IPAs. Not three IPAs or one IPA,  but two. 

At approximately 6ish, grab the TV remote to surf 125 channels for mindless entertainment. I’m partial to Ironman, Men in Black, Charlie’s Angels and “Bond, James Bond” genre movies. No deep thinking required. Perfect! 

By 7ish, I figure I better eat something, even though I’m not hungry. I’ll reheat a portion of leftovers from a BIGLY batch of one pot cuisine. Let it be known eating alone all the time sucks.

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/11/comfort-through-chaos-through.html

Around 9, the meaningless movie is over, the dishes are washed and the recycling bin contains two more aluminum cans. It’s time to brush my molars and retreat to bed with a good read. 

By now you might be thinking, “Jeff sure spends a lot of time in a La-Z Boy or lying supine.” You’re correct. You might say “I am one with my La-Z Boy.” Which is why I’m cognizant of my daily caloric intake. I’m motivated to maintain my girlish figure through this Covid Crisis. I want to still be able to fit on a barstool or in a movie seat. 

I know my routine isn’t exciting or overstimulating. Covid is reeking havoc for a “vacation planner” like myself. (It’s on my retirement card, so it must be true.) Yet! There’s a light show at the end of this “Groundhog Day” movie experience. 

“What’s that Blogger?” 

A) In less than a month, the days will start to grow longer. Here’s a personal equation. More Daylight = Happier Jeffy

B) On 1/20/2021, there will be a Presidential Inauguration. America will return to Grown Up Government. 

C) A tad later, with major assistance from my nice neighbors, Sanctuary Too (my camper) will be placed back upon the Tundra. Two days later, I’ll be in Death Valley National Park for 4-6 weeks. 

D) April will find me camping in Canyonlands National Park. I scored  two weeks of campsites. 

E) With each and every sunup and sundown, we’re (hopefully) closer to a proven and effective   vaccine. No more lockdowns. No more stay at home routines. Freedom to Happy Hour, hug, eat in a restaurant, hang out in coffee house, volunteer safely, walk next to other humans, go to movies, concerts, the library, brew festivals and shop without fear or a mask. I’m so jazzed I already purchased my Fiesta  hat.

Stay safe, sane and healthy no matter what your routine is. Hope to see or meet some of you on the other side of Covid.

Hang in there. I think better days are looming ahead. 

Jeff

Finding a Double IPA in a...

Cooler of Bud Lights. 

I’m never been accused of being a Polly-Anna. It’s not my nature. Maybe it was from my days of growing up in the Bronx and being subjected to Sanitation Workers and Teacher Strikes. (After awhile both began to stink.)  Or maybe it was the time a group of knife wielding Thugs chased me through the streets while shouting, “If we catch you Jew Bastard, we’ll stab you!” Or maybe it was the 28 years of Emergency Service work which is an incubator for “gallows humor.” 

For whatever reason, it’s usually not me who finds the silver lining in situations. 

Let’s be honest, we are living in times in which rose-colored glasses are fogging up. Between Covid cases going “Bang! Zoom! To the Moon” (Ralph Kramden) and an upcoming Constitutional Crisis, the future doesn’t seem  “so bright, I gotta wear shades.” (Timbuk 3). 

Why I’ll bet it’s a challenging time for the most hard core “it’ll all turn out OK” optimists. Let alone me! 

However as I hike Durango’s surrounding trails, take slow sips of an IPA or gaze at technicolor  sunrises, I realized I’ve come a long way. I have heaps to be Thankful for. 

It wasn’t all that long ago, that I was homeless by choice for 6.5 years in Barley the Van down by the River. Ordinary things that others take for granted are still BIGLY to me. Like occupying a real address instead of 66 square feet of a mobile “home.” 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/08/in-america-if-you-dont-have-address.html

“Jeffie, can you expound on this?” Sure, I’m not that BUSY! 

A) In August 2019, I rented a fully furnished townhome. The decor was a Southwest Bordello motif. On the walls were framed pictures from the Motel 6 school of art. It’s been a steady work in progress, but now the minimalistic decor subtly proclaims, “Jeff, lives here.” I’m happy with the results.

B) I went from no indoor plumbing to three bathrooms and a laundry, complete with hot and cold running water. This is miraculous to me.

C) I no longer cook outside on a propane Coleman stove.  Now I create meals on a four burner gas stove with a convection oven. I have yards of granite counter tops for food preparation. The days of eating Campbell soups for dinner are now part of my history. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/11/comfort-through-chaos-through.html

D) My evening entertainment used to be reading by a Luci solar powered light. Now I own a 55 inch Samsung TV with 125 channel surfing options. I’m in sensory overload.

E) Mostly I’m thankful for finally settling down in Durango, CO. An area where the surrounding natural beauty is only surpassed by the generosity and kindness of my neighbors and acquaintances. It’s taken me nearly 65 years, but I’ve finally found “Home,” 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/10/in-fort-collins-i-had-sociopaths.html

It’ll be a solo Thanksgiving. I’ll be baking up an 18 pound Gobbler and a slew of broasted veggies. There will be plenty of extras which I’m willing to share in a socially distanced way. 

Happy Thanksgiving despite the chaos. If I can a find that double IPA through all this, anyone can.

Stay safe, sane and healthy. Keep those masks on tight. The next few months will be a wild ride.

Jeff

Last photo. I found that Double IPA