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Before this season, I have never watched a WNBA televised game. I began, last year, watching women’s basketball, but only if Iowa was playing. This year is different, with me watching every televised WNBA game, with a season pass, as long as my favorite team is playing. Before I tell you why, a little history is in order.

Women have always been the center of my life. A “well turned ankle” turns my head, and will up until they close the box. I was raised with three sisters, and each of them were achievers, possessing drive and ambition. I am married to a lady, another achiever, that is a perfect combination of intelligence, fire and ice. My primary flight instructor, one Ms Jeanne’ Willerth, commanded my attention on the ground and in the air. She is in my view a “Super Pilot” a distinction that belongs to just one other pilot. As I rose through the ranks of the Patrol, and again in the Gaming business, I was supported by four administrative assistants, who could have easily traded desks with me, and whose counsel I often sought.

A few factoids will help the reader to know where I am going. Attendance at WNBA games is up 156%, filling arenas at 94% capacity. Last year, TV viewership stood at an average of 462,000. Today it is at 1.32 Million, representing a 211% increase. WNBA merchandise sales are up a staggering 756%, HALFWAY through the season. Finally WNBA social channels are seeing an increase of 380% participation over last year. I can’t think of any business that would not drool over such statistics today.

What is different this year? Caitlan Clark is on the hardwood. She is an incomparable blend of speed, grace and brains who also happens to be a ball handler on the level of a wizard. She always gives credit to her team mates and has a passing ability that says “never drop your guard” when on offense. She is that good. She makes me smile, broadly. This round baller, from Iowa, is the epitome of a country girl that is at the top of her game, in her rookie year. If you have not caught a WNBA game, dial up an evening when the Indiana Fever is on the court. You’ll thank me later. Finally, she is graceful and gorgeous off the court, always groomed and in great outfits, accentuating her feminine features. What is not to like?

To all of the women in my life, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have made room for one more of you, albeit from a distance. She is in a special class, right along side of my gastroenterologist and interventional cardiologist in Cleveland, and Miss Sharon.

Have a great week!

SR

There is always unreasonable hype in the countdown to the Presidential election. The hyperbolic excesses tend to fall on deaf ears as easily 3/4 of the electorate is committed to one candidate or the other. One of the grand projections is wrapped in plain brown paper, guaranteeing this is the most consequential race in the history of our Republic. This time, it may well be.

In an election shaped by blood hatred, we are giving serious consideration to a lady, who 6 months ago was so frightening that the powers chose to lie to us about the mental capacity of the President. They lied because they were deeply concerned about elevating a vacuous lady to the Presidency. There is no need to describe her, as even hardened Democrats know, when the lights are off, just before nodding off, she is a horrible choice that could not and did not survive a traditional primary campaign.

Our electorate is not being gaslighted at the hands of an adoring press and party that loathes the Republican candidate. Gaslighting only works on folks with diminished acumen. The aura surrounding the Democratic candidate is the product of deliberate consideration driven by unprecedented levels of hatred for the opposing candidate. The Democratic Party is willing to risk another incompetent President to maintain occupancy in the White House, even if promoting a candidate who we were laughing at 6 months ago. The Republicans have advanced a man with flaws, however incompetency is not one of them.

Only the most successful country on this planet, with unprecedented wealth is willing to take a chance on a candidate that is desperately hiding from the public with a marked propensity to abandon her long standing beliefs to sway the relatively few intelligent folks who have not professed their political position. Her selection of a running mate defies reason, but then again, she was selected as the running mate for the man thrown out of office. What we are witnessing is the basis for a fictional novel, as only an imaginative novelist could conjure up the current political state of our country. It seems surreal.

In the 11th hour, we denied Hillary Clinton the Presidency. Can we do it again? Will cooler heads prevail? The world is a shaky place today with our enemies joining forces to challenge our dominance. Will we allow the Democratic coup elevate a laughing stock and prevail? I think not, but it is going to take clear headed resolve to step in the booth, abandon your hatred and deny her the Presidency. I sincerely wish that I was among those that don’t care and respond viscerally to today’s circumstance. It would be so much easier. But, I am not.

Have a good week!

SR

By now every one of the 2.8 billion Christians on the face of the earth have had an opportunity to see the opening ceremony of the Olympics which is, this year, located in Paris, France. Of note, Jill Biden, a representative of America, has publicly said she thought the opening was fabulous, setting a standard for ceremonies in the future. Jill is a master of illusion, as evidenced by her wrapping her husband in a cloak of respectability. Soon enough, she’ll have an opportunity to explain to the Master how it is that a drag queen caricature of the Lord’s last supper is worthy of such praise.

John Adams, regarded as the father of the Constitution flatly rejected the notion that religion in America should be tolerated, rather a free exercise of one’s faith irrespective of the religion chosen. Adams wrote that, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people”. Jefferson plainly opposed an infringement on another’s choice of worship or non-worship, believing in the literal interpretation of the First Amendment. He stated that “neither Pagan nor Muslim nor Jew ought to be excluded in the civil rights of the commonwealth”. Adams and Jefferson were understandably concerned with loss of character.

I think it unwise to challenge the authority of the Christian God. I suggest that if the idiots in the caricature were demeaning of the Muslim faith, there would have been a riot on the streets of Paris. In today’s world it has become fashionable to cast the Christian Faith in a bad light. Our forefathers would likely have frowned on the notion that America was not founded on Christian principle, a faith undeserving of the ridiculous parody in the opening ceremony.

Here is the deal. You can worship or paganize whatever entity you choose, but do not slander my faith. Our faith, all 2.8 billion of us, find this parody to be reprehensible. Various heads of Christian denominations have also universally condemned this display of disrespect. This year’s Olympics is dead to me and I add my condemnation to those who see humor or entertainment in this blatant affront to our faith. You may rest assured the Lord has a long memory and eternity is a long time. Jill Biden does not represent me when she praises such a demonstration. Her praise of this caricature is indicative of the casual discard of the Christian Faith.

Have a good week.

SR

Lately, I have come across articles that bemoan the steady breakdown of neighborhood socialization, a consideration fueled by the incredible mobility of our population and giants like Amazon. Gone forever are the family owned businesses that work on our cars, provide our medicines and sell hardware. Instead, in the name of convenience, we never have to shed our pajamas to procure 90% of what we need.

Tellers at banks are becoming extinct. Instead you walk up to an automated screen and talk with someone in the home office who will gladly assist you with your banking needs. Unless absolutely necessary you never talk to the branch manager or other officer in the bank. I mentioned Amazon, a stroke of genius in the business of providing convenience. The transactions are totally impersonal to include the route driver tossing your latest purchase on the porch without a thought. You can, and many do, order your medicines from a giant clearing house and never talk with a pharmacist. Gone is the small hardware store where an experienced employee, often involved in the ownership of the store, offers advice and understands your needs. You can sell your car from the convenience of your living room, have it loaded from your driveway and, if your timing is right, have a new one dropped off in the same spot hours later.

You can earn a degree in your pajamas relying on your IPad and never have a conversation with a learned professor. You can buy your clothes and shoes on line and have them tossed on your porch a day or two after deciding what you think you want from the same chair in the living room. In a final insult and capitulation to convenience in a hurried world, you can consult with your doctor online, thus forgoing the opportunity for the discourse that is sacred and denying him or her the opportunity to look you over. You get your coffee through a damned window and have little idea who the barista is. The grocery store offers a very low percentage chance of meeting and visiting with a friend or neighbor and you check yourself out under the watchful eyes of a clerk who is counting your apples as you face yet another automated screen. The local gun shop is becoming extinct, replaced by box stores and barber shops replaced with stylists in lavish salons. Gun stores and barber shops are where the town’s business was really done. You can even attend church online while enjoying coffee in your living room.

Here is the deal. We have destroyed the concept of neighborhood gathering places. Neighborhood markets have sailed into the sunset and a coffee shop is virtually nonexistent, a huge consideration for police officers who desperately need to mingle with each other and the public. We are killing interaction and raising generations of kids who have no idea what social skill is. They visit on their cell phone even though they are sitting 10 feet from each other.

I am old enough to remember the days when you knew everybody on your street, or maybe the whole town, those were the days when you could conjure up an acquaintance to help with anything from a balky lawnmower to a car that won’t start. I genuinely miss it as folks who know me would certainly add gregarious to a list of expletives to describe me. We have trashed social interaction in the name of convenience and that is sad.

Have a good week

SR

The insanity of the campaign season resulted in our virtually ignoring an important holiday, National French Fry Day. Yesterday, July 12, was set aside to acknowledge yet another of my favorite food groups, the french fry, a delicacy I have enjoyed throughout my life. We had one of those little french fry cutters at home when I was a kid, and mom would squeeze a potato or two through it and drop the square cut delicacies into a pot of hot Crisco to our delight. The french fry is about the only thing that will cause me to abandon my disdain for Catsup even though many eateries are now peddling “french fry sauce”, a concoction that is a favorite at Freddy’s restaurants.

Sharon and I have personally tried nearly every joint in town that serves french fries, and Springfield is blessed with a huge variety of offerings. It is important to note that a good french fry needs to be piping hot and properly seasoned when served, as they degrade quickly if they sit. Here we go.

McDonalds sells about 9 million pounds of french fries a DAY. They promote the beef flavored overtones to their fries which are cut from 4 varieties of potatoes. When fresh, which is a hit or miss proposition, they are a great way to clog your arteries and raise your blood pressure. They are also wonderful, if hot, terrible when they cool down. Most restaurant fries are factory cut, processed, flash frozen and hit the oil out of a bag where they languish for a minute or two before dropped into a grease strainer, salted and delivered. The sitting part is the death knell for good fries. In Springfield, you have a fifty-fifty chance of fresh fries at Mackie-D’s, with some stores doing a great job some not so good. What-A-Burger and Burger King generally serve up average fries, with freshness not being their forte’. Red Robin delivers an excellent fry. Steak & Shake offers an interesting, very thin fry, also good when fresh. Wendy’s is better, but the best fries come from two joints in our opinion. Always fresh, piping hot and seasoned to taste are the fries from Black-Sheep. You can get them seasoned with a variety of spices and we have never been disappointed with their potatoes. A close second are the roost-fries from The Roost, with two locations in town. They are not a normal fry in that they are wedge cut, seasoned to perfection and hit your table too hot to eat.

French fries are an appropriate accompaniment for everything from fish to steak, with hotdogs and burgers reigning supreme. They are also a great go to snack. The bottom line is they are eaten by the billions and under appreciated. Enjoy an order this weekend at your favorite purveyor. Everybody eats french fries…….don’t they?

Have a great week!

SR

A couple of months ago, Sharon and I stood on our deck, contemplating replacing the flooring and shoring up the 10 year old under structure. We had lived through the pain of power washing and staining it shortly after buying this home, and the task at hand seemed to be an exercise in futility. Sharon, the picture of practical, suggested tearing it out, pouring a concrete patio and erecting a pergola. After all, all things are possible with enough time and money. To save as much wood as possible, we deconstructed the deck, sent the wood to my sister in Warsaw for use by my brother-in-law for various projects, hired a concrete mason and ordered the all aluminum pergola from China, via Costco and, as they say “got her done”.

The rain this spring forced delays in the concrete work, but our masons managed to pour and finish a very nice slab. We brought in a team of finishers from Nixa to stain the concrete and seal it, as well as build a concrete curb transition from the patio to the yard. This project is near the end, as soon as our electricians bring power through the brick walls of the house to the patio.

About the pergola. It is fashionable to slam China when the opportunity presents itself. Such is not the case with this pergola, which is all aluminum with a nice powder coat. (We decided on a maintenance free approach, no exterior wood.) The pergola arrived in 3 large boxes, weighing around 400# each and we scouted about for someone to help with the construction, as we had heard and read the horror stories. We had no luck, dialed up YouTube and tore into the project ourselves. A day later, the pergola is in place. The kit was immaculate, every piece precisely cut and all the hardware arranged in a neat plastic container. We used chairs and bags of mulch to hold up the super structure until we could join it together and set about the tedious work of assembling the fully adjustable louvers. The damned thing is absolutely ingenious with the precision in manufacture apparent. Thank you China and Costco. We could not be happier.

Today is Sharon’s birthday and we are celebrating under the pergola with coffee, an old dog and the satisfaction of having done it ourselves. In all fairness, Sharon is the spark plug in this project cementing her reputation as a finisher on any project. It is best to get out of her way when she pushes the go button or be run down in the process! I obviously out kicked my coverage when we teamed up years ago. This happens when a South Carolina, low country farm kid teams up with a midwestern farmers daughter.

Happy birthday, Kiddo. What’s next, my dear?

Have a great week!

SR

We are closing in on the 4th of July, an all American holiday codified back in 1941 by Congress. I have always enjoyed this holiday, despite the tragedy that seemed to stalk the occasion when I suited up and hit the roads. This year we enter the holiday period with only 39% of Americans professing pride in America and under 60% of Americans owning a US flag. I have lived in Europe and Southeast Asia over my lifetime, experiences that have seared patriotism into my brain. Flag waving aside, I am writing to celebrate another holiday tradition, a perfectly grilled hotdog on a fresh split bun smothered with your favorite condiment, the hotdog. My love for this nitrate loaded belly bomb goes back to the beginning of my memory and always stimulates a huge salivary response.

We will consume 150 million, give or take, hotdogs on the 4th of July this year. That is enough to make a line from D.C. to LA and back 5 times. Americans will spend a whopping 9.4 billion bucks on food over the 4th, with a considerable amount expended on hotdogs. You need an intervention if you can resist a hotdog, cooked over a fire or on a grill to skin busting perfection, slathered in mustard and a sprinkling of sweet vidalia onion. Beans and real potato salad, not the chemically altered mush from the convenience aisle, round out this delicacy. Interestingly, the 4th is also America’s number 1 beer consuming day, which makes perfect sense.

True hotdog gourmets have their preferences, and we have ours. Here is my rundown of truly delectable hotdogs. My favorite hotdog is the Kirkland brand all beef frank, the same one you can buy at their stores across the counter. An absolute bargain. Next up, I like Nathans and Hebrew National for their consistency and roastability. Expensive, but delectable, is the Boar’s Head uncured franks. They are smoky and juicy. A hotdog standard, Ballpark, makes a great Angus Beef dog that offers flavor and economy. You can count on Oscar Mayer to deliver a great all beef, uncased frank that is also flavorful and juicy, especially over a fire. Finally, and surprisingly, I have found the school commodity, sold in the case, all beef hotdogs to be absolutely delicious when grilled over a hot fire. Who knew?

The preparation of a dog is a forgiving process. Some folks love ‘em steamed, some split and fried and most grilled. An all beef dog, smothered in chili is a gastronomical treat. A thick dog with kraut and new potatoes is hard to beat on a cold day. Some folks love ‘em smothered in onions, peppers, tomatoes and well, about everything in the refrigerator. There is New York style, Chicago style and riverbank style…a style to suit every taste. For me, the toasted bun and simple mustard/onion approach is the go to. Sharon likes her dipped in cornmeal batter, deep fried, coated in mustard and served on a stick. She chases it with a fresh squeezed lemonade, state fair style. Catsup on a hotdog is a sin, and should be carefully avoided. It is the equivalent of catsup on a steak or beer on corn flakes, just not right. Please, don’t insult the dog!

My challenge is simple enough. Buy and display a flag, enjoy a hotdog with home made potato salad or handful of chips. Celebrate the birth of a great nation, second to none on earth, with a simple pleasure. Oh, and be safe……….

SR

Dad was my agent in 1965. He represented me well in his negotiation with what was to be my first of two employers in my life, Mrs. Mabel Steward, the civilian administrator at the Ft. Leonard Wood Commissary. My first uniform was a crisp, white shirt, dark trousers, clean shoes and a haircut. On a bluebird Saturday morning, I reported to Mrs. Steward and began my two year gig as a Food Packing and Transfer Specialist, a self coined term for bag-boy. It was a wonderful teaching experience that I will never forget. (Girls turned their noses up at the title “bag-boy” and never understood being a transfer specialist, a win-win in the juvenile dating world!)

People are serious about two things above all else, food and money. My salary was in tips only, so my job was to turn handling folks food into a financial reward. This required affability, the ability to handle adversity and reading people. On a good day we raked in 30.00, on a slow day 15.00, on average. Paydays in the military are a big deal, folks are “flush” and we, naturally realized a greater profit the first of the month.

In a 27 year career as a State Trooper, my only other paying gig outside of the military, the customer relations lessons as a bag-boy resulted in my never having received a complaint over the handling of a traffic summons, and I handed out plenty of them. We bagged in paper bags in those days, carted the groceries to the loading curb and loaded them into folks cars. We worked in heat, cold, rain and snow. Care was the order of the day as carts and cars hate one another. A misstep could bring the two together and the results were not pretty.

Adversity existed. Folks eat all sorts of things and I began to understand the complexities in cultural differences. As an example, on a scalding hot day, I dropped a carton of chitterlings, “chittlins” to some folks, on the sidewalk. It broke open and I found myself standing in a pile of pig intestines. This resulted in a gag reflex I own to this day. My customer laughed at my green aura, I fetched another carton, cleaned up the mess and walked away none the worse. The lady tipped me well and became a prized customer.

The big reward? A work ethic and appreciation for those that have one today. This experience was the foundation for the energy I expended as an officer, the state was never slighted during my tenure. Another reward is an appreciation for those that work for tips. I over-tip, always have and always will. It is my way of showing appreciation to those who actually roll up their sleeves and carry their load.

As I look back, I recognize the foundation that dad and Mrs. Steward (still residing in Evening Shade, south of Ft. Wood) built for me. I developed a deep appreciation for the work-reward formula and used it throughout my career in law enforcement. In retrospect, I was simply a bag-boy, but am damned proud of this humble beginning. As an indication of my pride, I became my son’s agent and put him to work at age 15 at the Hi-Vee in Jefferson City as, you guessed it, a bag boy. Some things never change!

Have a good week!

SR

Americans have, for several years, purchased over 1 million guns a month. Given the crime rate in our country, it is no wonder that handguns comprise a huge percentage of total gun sales. The handgun market is driven by micro pistols that are lightweight and easily concealed. This my friends is what has driven the 9mm caliber to the pinnacle of handgun sales. Let me explain..

Knowledgeable gun folks will tell you lots of things about this little cartridge invented by an Austrian named George Luger back in 1901. They will tell you about the dramatic progress in bullet and cartridge construction over the past decade. They will tell you the 9mm has been adopted by Russia and China as well as America for military and broad police use. They will tell you about economy in ammunition manufacture when you have uniformity in demand for a single cartridge. They will point out that having 15 rounds at your disposal in a gunfight is superior to the 6,8, or 10 rounds found in larger caliber handguns. They will tell you the aforementioned new hollow point rounds perform well within protocols when tested in ballistic gel or when assessed at autopsy. These considerations are grounded in fact and are all important.

The real reason this caliber is on fire in America is it adapts nicely to a readily concealable little pistol weighing around or less than 20 ounces. Secondly, with these light pistols, a range session is far less punishing than a session with a .40 S&W or .45 ACP. In fact a micro pistol chambered in a 40 something cartridge would have a new shooter headed to the pawn shop after the first few rounds. The purchase of 40 something ammo for personal defense will also leave a gaping hole in the family budget. If the gun is no fun to shoot, and weighs 2 pounds, you won’t practice and will leave it at home or in the car where it will do you little good when confronted by a thug on a city street.

The 9mm is here to stay, will stop a bad guy very efficiently, is fun to shoot and can be very concealable. As a final thought, Joe Biden who has never seen a gun he likes, is surrounded by Secret Service guys who recently changed from the trendy 357 Sig cartridge to 9mm firearms. Nothing but the best for old Joe.

Join the million or so of your countrymen who are buying a firearm this month, if not for sport, then for personal protection. Want a pistol, buy a 9mm……you will not be disappointed.

Have a great week!

SR

Leave it to an old cop to stress the importance of this day of recognition. Yesterday, June 7 was the day we pay homage to a treat that at once drains your salivary glands and clogs your arteries. I know no-one who doesn’t enjoy a doughnut or two and cup of coffee when the urge for sugar overwhelms them. Their attraction is every bit as compelling as cocaine is to Hunter. What about these little triglyceride bombs? Here is the lowdown.

They made their way to Colonial America courtesy of the Dutch. Their actual origin is a mystery, but sometime around 1847 an American named Hanson Gregory invented the machine that would punch holes in the little wads of dough, resulting in a uniform finish in hot oil. It is believed the moniker “doughboy” bestowed on our troops in France during WWI was derived from the cooking of these treats in their helmets. We also know that ladies working for the Salvation Army prowled the front lines supplying the troops with this morale boosting treat. (The USO ladies in Vietnam were often referred to as donut dollies, but I don’t recall ever seeing an actual doughnut while there.)

There are well in excess of 30 varieties of doughnuts recognized worldwide. A few of the more popular are, yeast, cake, glazed, sugar, powdered sugar, churrus, crumb, chocolate covered, creme filled, fruit filled, jelly filled, Boston Creme, crullers, long John’s and bear claws. Tazzy has a strong preference for the “holes”, perfect morsels for his Labrador appetite and an easy toss over the seat. I am sure every reader will have their favorite donut store, but the occasion is as important as the pastry. When I patrolled the Interstate Zone around Kansas City, my go to was Lamars, I think on Troost. A close patrol colleague, Ernie Raub, and I once polished off a dozen of the triglyceride bombs on the way home from a Gaming Commission meeting in Kansas City. The crime scene was a Krispy Kreme in St. Charles where the box was too hot to hold on to. Who could resist?

Forgetting my lack of standing as an officer from Missouri, I displayed terrible judgement while on vacation in Florida, going the wrong way on a street to enter a Krispy Kreme, also the wrong way in the drive through, to keep from missing a “Hot Now” sign that was of particular interest to the grand kids. You have to do what you have to do….and the doughnuts were wonderful!

How popular are these belly bombs? Krispy Kreme rakes in around 450 million a quarter in total revenues. Of course there are many other venues, all doing, I am sure, very well. Think about it? Do you have a particular favorite purveyor of these timeless delectables? I hope so…and urge you to catch up on celebrating this important day if you missed a treat yesterday.

We are entering that magic time of the year when you can enjoy life on every level that does not require snow. Get out, grab a cup and your favorite doughnut and smile. I think there just might be a Krispy Kreme in heaven……….where every day is Doughnut Day!

Get out and go….

SR