Category: Uncategorized

Sharon and I recently gave serious consideration to pulling up stakes and moving to the country, as both our roots are firmly planted in farm dirt and the sounds of nature as opposed to the urban drone of traffic, sirens and neighbors close enough to listen to March Madness on your television. We sat down and worked through a detailed analysis of why we should and why we should not return to the country. Not surprisingly, the ability to enjoy a variety of table fare surfaced on our list of needs and wants. Big Time. After over ten years living in Springfield, we have managed to establish a less than inclusive listing of favorite eateries, a difficult task as there are more than 600 places to eat in and around this overgrown cow town. On my big day, when my mortal remains are in a vase, folks would do well to remember that from birth until the end, I enjoyed groceries. (In retrospect, I should have been a chef.) We believe it is time to pay homage to our current favorites in and around Springfield. Here is how we see it.

Like Mexican or Tex Mex? We like Senor Julian’s, where authenticity is stressed. Next up is Cesar’s Old Mexico, which offers ambiance and ample portions of really good table fare. In a sea of Mexican offerings, these guys rise above the pack.

Yearning for Italian? It is hard to beat Bambino’s Cafe on Delmar, where the restaurant is in a house like setting, and the food both delectable and uncomplicated. Following closely is Avanzare, upscale, and a little more complicated.

In terms of the Far East, we prefer Nakato’s for Japanese, hibachi style food, although at my age getting up from the floor after eating can be a spectacle. We travel to Lebanon for sushi and Bento Boxes, from a little eatery, the Sushi House, intimate and simply wonderful. Everyday Thai serves up authentic Thai fare, with little heat or a 4 alarm kick, as Thai should be.

Ozarkians love breakfast, and Springfield delivers a variety of choices. For solid, country style breakfasts at a very reasonable price, Cedars is the go to. For a little more variety, then enjoy the wonderful crepe’s at the Aviary, with the Lemoncello being simply delightful. Note, their coffee is stout here, a small price to pay for delectable choices, but will set you upright in your chair.

Thinking fish? The catfish at B-29 and FD’s is hard to beat as well as the fillets at Republic’s Flat Creek Inn. As long as we’re talking fried, there is an art to good hamburgers and we think the Gathering Place, WF Cody’s and the Black Sheep in Chesterfield have this All American specialty down pat. Black Sheep also offers a french fry that is not a run of the mill, crinkle cut, from the freezer, standard. Good fries are a necessity with a perfectly prepared burger.

Craving the gospel bird? Rosie Jo’s takes the blue ribbon. Pan fried, served up with proper sides, also fresh and lots of iced tea will take you back to grandmother’s table. Flat Creek also does a pretty good job with chicken. As a side note, the clientele at Rosie’s is comprised of folks straight from the countryside, warm and friendly. You may have to wait, but it is certainly worth it.

You cannot swing a cat without hitting a pizza or Chinese place in Springfield. We have tried many of them, and they mostly taste the same. With us, Pappo’s is the best pizza, a little unique and very consistent and their fresh baked cookies are decadent. Corner 21, across from Mercy hospital on Sunshine, is a little, obscure restaurant that serves up wonderful Chinese fare, closer to authentic than anywhere in town. I lived in the orient for many years and have high expectations. They meet them and more. It is easy to drive by this place, so be looking.

Missing from our list is really good BBQ. There is a reason. Like Consumer Reports with their “recommended” list for cars….well, we have a problem here as Sharon’s smoker eclipses the local offerings. We also lived in and around KC. Sorry guys, BBQ is not a strength in this area.

Finally, when we are looking for a quick deli style sandwich, our go to’s are consistently Nearly Famous and the Brown Derby Deli both serving up terrific sandwiches, in an inviting atmosphere.

In the off the beaten path genre, we recommend Cafe Cusco, located downtown. It serves up Peruvian dishes that are absolutely wonderful and a little different.

When you visit our town, this guide will should get you started. We have visited many eateries around here, and have many more to go, but wanted to offer suggestions to our friends who are making a sojourn to Bass Pro or other Springfield attraction. We mostly eschew chains, preferring locally owned and managed establishments, where good service is the norm. Come on down and enjoy our offerings in the Queen City.

Have a great week!

SR

I thought my readers, mostly conservatives, would appreciate an encapsulation of the events of the past few weeks down in Georgia. Not since Billie Joe jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge has there been this much excitement. Face it, we all like Cliffs Notes versions of momentous events, so here we go.

1. Fani and Nathan, a pair of morally bankrupt attorneys, shack up some years ago.

2. Fani is a District attorney and sets out to nail Donald Trump for election interference relying on a criminal enterprise law normally reserved for organized crime cases. (RICO)

3. Fani hires her stud muffin to prosecute this case. (Note, he has zero prosecutorial experience, but is apparently very capable of lighting a fire, so to speak)

4. Fani and Nathan are outed by Trumps people and there is no escape outside of lying, a lot, under oath.

5. Fani and Nathan gin up the most outrageous and obvious set of lies imaginable and roll them out in front of a Democratic superior court judge who is running this year for his seat, in a Democratic district.

6. The judge chokes down the testimony over several weeks. He is in a pickle. After deliberating, he splits the baby and issues a mysterious judgement that she either quits or fires her boyfriend. The judgement is patently incomprehensible.

7. In a syrupy statement, Fani “accepts” her stud muffin’s “resignation” to “protect democracy”.

8. This judgement has left legal scholars across the country collectively scratching their head and butts as they attempt to make sense of it.

9. Wade has a half million in the bank, Fani resumes her persecution of Trump and the judge has propped up his campaign to remain in office. Meanwhile the rest of the world is laughing at the state of our judiciary.

Save yourself the trouble of reading about this in the Democratic Party publicity arm, ie the media, and instead plan a great early spring week.

This folks, is how the man in the street sees this. Really easy stuff….

Charge on!

SR

This week has been a dandy. I have decided to catch folks up on the state of the union on our roads and streets, leaving the train wreck of a SOTU to the pundits who get paid to raise hell about such things. Traffic safety experts are focusing on the causes of our rising death rates on our highways, a consideration I was once paid to mitigate. You might be surprised as to the factors in play today reversing decades of decline in fatal accidents brought about by engineering and safety improvements.

Where are we? From 30,000 feet, our fatality rate is 3 times that of Canada and Australia and 5 times that of England and Scandinavian countries. The past decade, in America, has been unforgiving on our roads.

First up is physics. The true killer in an accident revolves around the dissipation of energy, mass in motion if you will. A human being at rest is dissipating little energy, where as if they are in motion, it takes energy to get them there and energy to stop them. The weight of SUVs and their higher center of gravity is a factor. The more weight that is in motion, the more energy is available to disassemble the human being attached to or in it. Simple really.

Next up, marijuana is making its presence known. One study has determined that about half of folks involved in serious accidents had at least one active drug in their systems. Most folks react to an impending crash by attempting, in some way, to avoid it. When you are mellowed out, smoking a fat boy of some exotic weed, you are not going to react quickly. Delay then triggers the chain reaction that results in everything coming to rest, often with bent steel and torn flesh, and far too often to those who were innocently motoring along, driving within the law.

While other considerations are in play, such as relaxed enforcement, cable and concrete barriers that preclude moving speed measurement (by patrol officers), the next clearly evident factor is the cell phone. In America you get one when you quit teething, and it has become a huge distraction in driving. In fact, these little devices are patently addictive. Despite half hearted attempts by governing bodies, drivers are routinely distracted while texting and manipulating their phones. This becomes even more deadly when done during hours of darkness. Take the physics issue and combine it with the uniquely American obsession with the cellphone and you are going to bend steel and rend flesh. The statistics don’t lie. Cellphone distraction is quickly rising to the top of the list of deadly obsessions.

I am preaching here, but have vivid memories of folks who have ended their day on a stainless steel or porcelain table in the preparation room of a local mortuary. Driving is a serious business that deserves strict attention not distraction or mental compromise. Engineering is wonderful, but will never displace the laws of physics or effects of mental compromise. Some 40,000 dead folks annually make my point.

Attila the Hun once remarked that you should not kill the Hun who brings the bad news, rather praise him. If you use your phone while driving or drive while toked up……I am talking directly to you. I make no apologies.

Have a great week!

SR

This week a trooper from my old outfit, The Missouri State Highway Patrol, was featured on national television for a Herculean feat of strength. A large, round bale of hay was centered in a lane of one of our highways, and needed to be relocated to the shoulder. After some consideration, Trooper Isaiah Lemasters leaned into this bale, tipped it up and off the roadway. He did this by relying on personal leg strength and, presumably, youth. I could have done that in my day, however; I would have had to shove the damned thing off the road with my cruiser. His amazing performance was captured on his dash cam, a sequence his grand-kids will view with amazement in the years to come. Officers like Lemasters are why the word “sir” was invented!

My career with the Patrol involved field training four new officers, fresh out of the academy. Three went on to very successful careers while one fell on health related hard times and left the patrol prematurely. I benefitted from these experiences as much as the new guys, as their eagerness and energy was always refreshing. Most of my road career was in a rural environment, where you became one with the agricultural industry. This leads to a story involving another amazing feat on a hot late summer morning when my cub and I were dispatched to a cow on a roadway in Cass County. The cow was easy to find, as she was actually a 1500 pound Angus bull whose olfactory capabilities had led him to tear down a worn stretch of fencing to pursue a receptive cow standing behind a fence on the other side of the road. With an uncharacteristic hint of cruelty, I dispatched my cub to chase the bull back into his pasture, and sat back in air conditioned comfort to watch his mastery of the situation. The bull eyed him carefully, with snot slinging contempt, and stood his ground as my cub waved his arms and extolled the bull to go where he belonged. The bull was not impressed. My cub grabbed a sunflower from the fence row, stripped the leaves off and smacked the bull across the hindquarters as he offered a blood oath to turn him into hamburger if he didn’t get his ample ass back where he belonged. I should have intervened, but was paralyzed with laughter from the front seat of the cruiser. The bull eyed my cub with contempt and, I swear, a touch of respect, knowing full well he could launch the officer into the stratosphere. Incredibly after the third whack across his hindquarters, the bull turned and trotted into his pasture. The cub patched up the fence and returned to the car, hot but satisfied he had met my expectations. After wiping the tears of laughter from my cheeks, I explained to my cub he had just defied death and undoubtedly used one of his proverbial nine lives. This officer went on to become a fine officer with a distinguished career.

I should note that it had not been long before this, while quail hunting with my Sergeant, that I knocked a bird down which fell into a pasture ringed by an electric fence. My Sergeant dispatched me to get the bird, necessitating crawling under the hot wire. I sauntered over and picked up the bird, oblivious to another Angus bull standing in this pasture. The bull took exception to my trespassing and came after me. There was no sauntering as I ran for my life and was nearly electrocuted in the fence as I escaped the bull. My old Sergeant is smiling as I tell this story, from his chair in Heaven, where old Sergeants go for eternity.

So it is on this early spring morning. Recollections brought to light by the efforts of a superbly conditioned officer pushing a thousand pound bale of hay, all in a days work. God bless you Isaiah, and God bless every officer out there. Each of you will have your stories to tell as you go about lending dignity to a country that needs all the dignity we can muster.

Have a great week!

SR

On a warm summer evening in 1974, while slipping down US 24 in Lafayette County in my cruiser, I fell in behind an obviously intoxicated driver in an older pickup truck. The stop was uneventful, however, I could see there was serious discord between the intoxicated young driver and his young, pregnant wife. After arresting him, I placed the wife in the back seat of the Patrol car, as she didn’t drive, and off to the county jail we went. So far, no problems. (The jail was also the living quarters for the sheriff in those days, and a kitchen area was between the dispatch area and the drunk tank where my drunk was headed for the night). The wife was seated in the kitchen with a cup of coffee awaiting a ride home from a friend she had called. Then the wheels came off.

My Corporal at that time was one David D. LePage a living legend on the Patrol. DD (we were big on initials back then) was a big guy, mostly jovial and extremely capable as an officer. He had a half measure of patience and a refined sense of right and wrong which resulted in a colorful career on the patrol in later years. (David later became a criminal investigator and superb polygraphist, trained in New York.) David had entered the jail, just in time to see my drunk slap his wife out of her chair as I walked him back to the tank, through the kitchen. It happened quickly, but not as quickly as DD’s response to the drunk’s conduct. David grabbed my drunk and body slammed him into a kitchen counter and in a millisecond closed both his eyes and bloodied his nose. The drunk resisted DD’s efforts to control him, and it only got worse for him. When we left him in the drunk tank, he was moaning softly, lying on a bunk, and I am sure wondering if he was going to live through the night. The wife was okay, with a deeply bruised cheek and was conveyed home. The only counseling the husband received was from our sheriff, Gene Darnell, assuring him the next morning that if we received notice of continued abuse towards his wife, the night before would seem like a picnic in the park. The sheriff meant it, believe me. The drunk, standing in front of our magistrate judge several weeks later was contrite and placed on further notice that any further spousal abuse would result in his being invited to spend a year in the jail where his earlier, momentary lapse of consciousness occurred. Women beaters are not easily retrained, in my experience, and I have often wondered where this couple ended up.

What is the point here? The beat goes on. We are inundated with examples of spousal abuse and domestic violence on a daily basis, criminal activity that most often results in a paltry response from an over burdened court system. David LePage died a young man in 2013 after a great career on the Patrol and a second career as an insurance investigator. He made a difference, if only for a minute, in the budding career of an abuser made to absorb a punch that would have made Ali proud. My point is that criminal activity deserves a swift response, or the activity only gets easier for the criminal. If we do not return (impossible?) to the days of swiftly meting out justice, we are giving our society away….

I was privileged to serve with some of the finest officers to ever don a uniform, guys like David LePage who left a storied wake on the Patrol. Officers who could laugh deeply but respond swiftly when the occasion merited such a response. There were no cameras in those days and the courts stood solidly behind the officer…..unlike today. I have said it before and it is worth repeating, I wouldn’t last a week out there today. Thanks, David……for placing one abuser on the other end of the stick. Rest in peace, brother…..

Have a good week!

SR

Missouri doesn’t grab the headlines like our east and west coast neighbors, and that is how we like it. This relative anonymity suits us just fine. We have strong agricultural roots, build lots of cars, and are often caricatured as barefoot hillbillies with a corncob pipe and an old coon dog for company. That is, until recently when our NFL football team went on a tear. Predictably, the Kansas City Chiefs ascension into the spotlight has awakened the folks who think we should change their name to the Kansas City (anything) other than something that disparages the American Indian. So far, we haven’t taken the bait. Here is how we got here.

The Chiefs were founded in 1959. Americans weren’t as sensitive back then, and Native American monikers were quite common. Sioux Chief baking ingredients, trains, cars, numerous aircraft and even Naval Officers and Army pilots reflect “Chief” in their titles. Webster says a Chief is highest in rank or authority. Who gave it a thought? That was then, before folks chose to be offended by just about anything. Chose is the operative word in my last sentence.

The football Chiefs were not actually named after a great plains Indian warrior. Their name rose from a white man who impersonated Native American Culture. The fellow was instrumental in developing the Tribe of Mic-O-Say, a part of the Boy Scouts Of America, back in 1925. Mr. H. Roe Bartle was as white as they come but says he was inducted into a local tribe of the Arapaho people. His Indian name was “Lone Bear” but he was referred to as Chief Lone Bear in the Mic-O-Say organization. You may remember that Bartle’s name is sprinkled throughout the history of Kansas City as he was a popular two term mayor in the ‘60’s. It was Bartle who convinced Lamar Hunt to bring the Dallas Texans football team to Kansas City. In a name the team contest, “Chiefs” kept surfacing and Hunt, in consult with “Chief” Bartle, found their name. Thus the “Chiefs” have as much a connection with the Boy Scouts as they do native Americans. By extension, the BSA incorporates Native American references into it’s organization. Bartle’s influence within the Boy Scouts extends into a beautiful, crappie filled cove on Truman lake at the Bartle Scout Camp, affectionally referred to as ”Boy Scout Cove”. (I have snatched untold numbers of fat crappie from these waters.)

One by one, out of respect for the folks who can find a reason to eliminate a black lady from a pancake mix box, monikers associated with the American Indian are being relegated to the trash bin of history. The Cleveland Indians and Washington Red Skins are notable examples. In some respects America hates tradition or is it that relevance only occurs when you are raising hell about something. You be the judge. The tomahawk chop and big drum at (gulp) Arrowhead (now GEHA) stadium will be next. This season a young boy in an Indian war bonnet was excoriated for his disrespect of Native American culture, evidenced by his headgear. I don’t know the kid, but am willing to bet that was not his intention.The Florida State Seminoles, Atlanta Braves and the Chiefs all depend on the “chop” to arouse the fighting instinct in their teams. Scant thought is given to dehumanizing the culture it is derived from, unless of course, you again “choose” to be offended.

Congratulations to the Chiefs! They are gridiron warriors of the first order who have obviously spent more time studying x’s and o’s than the battlefield strategy at Little Big Horn. Long live the tomahawk chop and big drum. Recently, old War Paint was retired. He was a beautiful Appaloosa ridden by an “Indian Maiden” around the field, stirring up the crowd. I am one old traditionalist who revers Arrowhead Stadium and Missouri’s own Chiefs! I also revere the Native American and his history, and choose to not be swayed by those who seek relevance by trading on their tragic place in our American culture.

Have a good week!

SR

The Supreme Court is hearing the arguments that will establish Donald Trump’s viability as a candidate for the Presidency. This happens later this morning. I thought a summary of the facts would be helpful as we await their consideration and decision. Facts are what is needed, not hyperbole and partisan concern.

Mr. Trump, the presumptive nominee is perhaps the most polarizing candidate for this office in our history. Without arguing his successes and failures, he is immensely popular in spite of the legal morass that has enveloped his post Presidency existence.

Mr. Biden, the current President and presumptive Democratic Party nominee, enjoys a favorable rating that hovers in the 30% range and is showing signs of mental decline at every turn. Without arguing his successes and failures, he is the current Democratic candidate.

The Democratic Party, in an inclusive, purely political fashion, has challenged Mr. Trump, offering a number of legal arguments and theories as to his fitness for office. These attacks, with very little bipartisan support, have involved the courts in an issue that is normally decided by the people. Again, I am not opining as to the validity, or not, of these arguments. Simply, we are on the edge of the court’s deciding the Presidency and not the people. Suffice to say, there is a great divide in the people as to who shall be the next President. It is also important to note, this division should be decided by the people.

While we await a reluctant court’s ruling on a partisan political issue, it is wise to note the wisdom of President Abraham Lincoln, as espoused in his famed Gettysburg Address.

“In our system of government, the people, by the people (and) for the people, the American people, not the courts or election officials…should choose the next President of the United States.”

My opinions as to who should be elected are mine alone and matter only in the ballot box. They are no more, or less, important than your opinion. Collectively, the people should make this decision. It is the beauty of the system Mr. Lincoln wrote about.

We should have our answer fairly soon from a Court that has been forced into a dark corner and involved in a process that belongs to the people. They are in a damnable position and would be well served to return the matter to us…..where it belongs.

SR

Another birthday in the books. When you hit 70 (and beyond) birthdays are stark reminders that you are in a race with Father Time, a patient and utterly reliable barometer of our diminishing impact on the world around us. God bless the folks who schlup through life without a care until they hit the big casino and come to terms with the master, aptly named for the many aspects of his reign, especially in his role as the ultimate time keeper. Most of us at my age have made the acquaintance of a number of medical professionals, that is if you are into preventative maintenance, a consideration I have found to be most effective when you want to extend the life of, well, anything. To that end, I just met a new one.

I have 3 younger sisters who at one point in their lives spent time worshipping the sun and in two cases, enjoying a little tobacco as a form of therapy. I never touched the stuff except to puff on a cigar when each of my kids were born. I turned green each time, even though I tried to not inhale. (Unlike Bubba Clinton…but that is another story). I am also a redhead and folks blessed with crimson locks know to avoid the sun, as deep tans are just not in the cards for us, at least without triggering all sorts of dermal push back. Two of my siblings have danced with cancer and two of us are (were) patiently awaiting our turn. We come by it honestly, as our father was body slammed by lung cancer at 44, the kind that kills you very quickly. On a personal level I have supported the sunscreen industry with gusto, slathering on stuff with great SPF ratings at every opportunity. I also fish, and am convinced that a touch of sunscreen on your bait is the kiss of death, for the bait, not the fish. Fish won’t bite when this stuff is on your offering, so I avoided putting it on my hands. That folks, turns out to be a mistake.

It started as a little raised bump on the back of my left hand. This hand is held in full sun when cranking on a reel, thus generously introducing this unprotected skin to old sol. Yesterday, in the middle of our birthday induced shopping spree the phone rang and the dermatologist was to the point, you have cancer (the squamous kind) and we need to schedule with our surgeon to have a little procedure known as MOHS surgery. I equate it to filleting a crappie, gonna get the skin without getting the flesh under it….if we can. This stuff is usually just an inconvenience if you can keep it from jumping the fence. Surgery is next week, in and out……a walk in the park (as I whistle past the graveyard).

Now for the real indignity. I noticed on a recent visit to my PCP that I was deemed “old and frail” in the Medicare coding vernacular. Cancer be damned, that pissed me off. I shot a note to the doctor’s office and suggested they get their bureaucratic asses out of their swivel chairs and follow this old “frail” man around the gym anytime they feel the need to have their young and vibrant asses kicked. I am not the SR of 40 years ago, but I’ll be damned if I’m frail. The first time I was so disrespected, a comely little girl at a McDonalds asked me if I was a senior, years ago. Frail is not in my job description and has taken the front row over the baby cancer on my hand. The next time I’m in there, we’re going to talk. You can bet on it! Old I am, frail, and I can guarantee this, I am not. Those are fighting words if ever there was such a thing. I got their frail…….

Have a great week!

SR

I am going to guess that most of my readers have solid conservative credentials and understand the fight we are in to protect the remaining vestiges of prosperity we enjoy. I would further suggest that every election cycle is “the most important cycle of our lives” and other such politically motivated over statement that has endured for hundreds of years. I, like you, have watched the current process with fascination and concern. How is it that a lying, cognitively challenged old man, with a record of abject failure, be considered for a second term in the White House? Easy, his viability is a great illusion. Here is how that illusion has risen like the fog above a river on a summer morning.

1. A few hundred dollars, or several thousand dollars in the case of folks who cannot or will not pay off their contractual obligation in the form of college loans, makes a difference. Biden, in a middle finger retort to our Supreme Court, has doled out some 150 billion dollars to these deadbeat college kids. In 1928 Candidate Herbert Hoover’s slogan was “two chickens in every pot”. Folks, this administrations incredible give away of our tax dollars will buy a hell of a lot of chickens. Conservatives oppose this buy out and liberals, particularly progressives love it. Conservative, moral high ground does not guarantee a vote in the polling booth, but money will. Conservatives lose on this issue.

2. Mainstream media has long ago shed its tenuous cloak of objectivity. Its now operates as the third arm of the progressive movement. The media paints the liberal faction as caring about people and wanting to better folks lives, while Republicans are cold hearted and strangely attached to austerity and frugality. Once again, in the voting booth, the last word folks will have heard is that MAGA and Republican interests will not make your life better. Conservatives, in the information era, lose on this issue. The media is in the pulpit, folks, and lies with enthusiasm to a broad audience.

3. The Democratic Party has established the electoral process. You can stay at home, mail in, vote early, vote late, use drop boxes and send your neighbor with your alleged vote to a polling place or box on the corner. In recent months there have been several successful court challenges to illegally conducted elections on local levels. Can this happen in statewide and national elections? You better believe it…..especially if you are a progressive. They know precisely what they are doing and how to do it.

4. Unions, a powerful and cohesive voice, are hopelessly attached to the Democratic Party. Their membership is large enough to tip the scale in our now very close electoral process. To this end, the Democratic Party is tremendously effective in getting the vote out. Again, promises of money is persuasive and they spend as if money grows on trees. How many large, organized factions in America identify with the Republican Party? Beyond the NRA and veterans groups, very few.

5. Our open borders are a further guarantee of Democratic/Progressive political control for years to come. Many local and more than a few national issues are decided by the thinnest of margins where a few thousand extra votes will certainly make a difference. Biden is underwriting his legacy for years to come if these illegals are not thrown out of our country quickly, an occurrence that is not likely. Historians will laugh at his horrible administration, but not at his impact on the future. The Constitution is nothing more than colorful toilet paper at Biden’s White House.

6. Prevarication. The Democratic Party and in particular this White House are liars on a scale that defies description. The latest is that Texas Governor Abbott caused the drowning of a family of illegals in the Rio Grande. Even honest progressives know this administration willfully lies with impunity. The lies give progressives talking points, such as Hunter’s laptop nonsense in the beginning. Talking points sow doubt that translates all too often to a positive result in the voting booth. Democrats do not need facts, they need time, and lies take time to ferret out, usually long after the damage is done.

7. An old legal adage is that when you do not have the facts, then attack the witness. Progressives have painted MAGA conservatives as inherently evil, and attack them at every turn. Why? It is the only effective tool in their arsenal when you have a record reflecting the failures of the past three years. Another example of the Progressive mentality is the alleged Republican desire to eliminate Social Security. It is a pervasive crock of crap, but is still highlighted by the adoring media.

8. Cohesiveness is not an attribute that lends itself to the Conservatives in Congress. The current razor thin majority in the House, especially with the dangerous radical element that unseated the last Speaker, plays to a delighted Progressive minority. House Republicans are like the proverbial monkey with the football. When they gain a foothold, they immediately begin fighting and lose sight of the big picture. Pelosi had very little integrity, but held her pack of jackals together. Conservatives should learn from this……..but have not. Their moral high ground gets in the way of political objectives.

It is a cold Saturday in the Ozarks and folks have things to do. As always, I appreciate my readers. A bit of advice, these points can be debated with a liberal, but not with a progressive. Progressives do not respond to reason….ever.

Have a great week!

SR

Sharon and I have been involved in the RV experience for just over 10 years which gives us a toe hold on the standing necessary to comment on the realities and trends in this pastime. The numbers are staggering, with over 80 million campers in America of which 51% are RV’ers. If you have ever considered this mode of travel, I think you will find this primer most helpful.

The industry is stagnant. High interest rates, volatility in the market and reduced dealer inventories are the current leash on the industry. Those of us that partake are keenly aware the Achilles tendon in this pastime is efficiency in service after the sale. Due diligence in dealer selection does you no good when you are a thousand miles from your carefully selected dealer. Mobile techs have breathed life into this consideration but can be expensive out of warranty. In 2023, RV sales in America have settled to around 316,000 units, a decline from 2022 numbers. At present, dealers are carrying some 80,000 fewer units in inventory (again, think interest rates which affect both sides of the equation). Total registrations of new units are, predictably, expected to decline in 2024. Analysts believe that sales, however, will outpace production in 2024. It does appear this is still a good market to shop in. The caveat is that analysts are also predicting that prices will drop in 2024, which may impact build quality. Over the past 20 years the percentage of RV ownership in America has increased by 62%. There are many reasons, with the ability to travel with your pets being one of them. Some 62% of RV’ers travel with their pets, mostly dogs. It is a significant factor in our household. The dramatically improving nature of parks is another consideration.

Next up, tech. Most RV’ers rely on online searches to make reservations and plan their trips. The campground industry is well aware of this and has developed enticing strategies to get you on their grounds. This same tech is absolutely necessary when needing help when out and about and needing to locate dealers and mobile techs. Sharon and I have, on the few occasions when faced with a problem above my pay grade, enjoyed tremendous responses from mobile techs. . While tech is wonderful, we tend to rely on the experiences of our circle of RV friends when planning trips to the far corners. The same folks that take pictures of RV parks for online advertising are the ones that unscrupulous realtors must rely on to turn a dump into a treasure. Be careful here. There are some 4500 campgrounds in America and they contribute about 24B to the overall 140B industry wide revenue stream. This is obviously a big industry that has seen significant growth in the past 10 years. This competition has forced campgrounds to upgrade to compete with the newer, more expensive offerings. Planning is the key to success when traveling as chance will leave you in a retail parking lot more often than not.

Practical matters. As you can see from the charts, camper trailers are the backbone of this industry. We prefer trailers for the convenience of unhooking and having a vehicle for exploration when you arrive at your destination. There are advantages to each category of RV construction, but mobility, without towing a second licensed vehicle, is our biggest consideration. To this end, we pull a long trailer at just under 40’, surprisingly easy to do with a little experience. Planning again is the key to having a big trailer chasing your tow vehicle around the countryside, particularly when selecting fuel stops.

Who are the folks who participate in this pastime? The average RV’er is 48 years old, married and enjoys an income of just north of 62K. We have found them to be gregarious, fun, honest and willing to help with anything perplexing at your site. We have made numerous friends from this group of folks who share our nomadic inclinations. Your RV neighbor is most likely to have travelled under 300 miles to get there and has a pup more often than not. He will know his way around a BBQ grill and travels with a complete set of tools and a roll of duck tape! With little science to back this up, I would suggest that RV’ers are the single most stable aspect of this industry and pastime. Stability is an absolute necessity when a spouse is providing direction as you back in to a tight spot! There you have it, from the fiscal to the social and practical aspects of this pastime as we see it, 10 years in. We still love it.

Have a great week!

SR