UMC and their disdain for the nation of their birth

Occasionally I will do certian formal events Gril#1 attends as part of her semi doctoring job. Plus its always fun when people realize I own a tuxedo. A basic Kelvin Kline tux, which oddly enough all of their shit has proven to be easier to customize for my build and sidearm of choice then any other brand I have tried. Wouldn’t that be a hell of an advertising campaign for them? Buy our shit because it fits burly rednecks and XDM’s better then the other rags….. any rate its always a weird crowd to me. I have talked at length about some of the things that strike me as off. Like them not being all that wealthy, not nearly as wealthy as they would have folks believe or as well educated as they believe themselves to be and how unaware of the world around them they are. They live in this bubble that makes them damn near insufferable. With a little practice, you can sit in my bar and pick out the UMC folks vs the truly wealthy folks by how they interact with the world around them, with the UMC types being much more uncomfortable when their bubble is bumped around some.

Wasn’t all that different as any other event. As far as black tie shit goes. We got there early so we could change in our hotel room and I could make her walk around the party with a box full of Ton batter. The car in front of us at the valet station was a 328 BMW with a “gotphd” vainty plate….. right there is about all you need to know about this ass clown. Not sure a 33k-51k automobile is a ringing endorsement for the college debt of a phd……

That bit of the shit show just got better and better though. The couple in the car was what any redneck would expect. An overly effeminate guy with long hair and an ear stud, an overly masculine woman with short hair and a scowl. You can tell they do cross fit because he looks like a fag and she is built like a dyke. Girl#1 works with the “lady”, some kimd of hospital admin bitch, but a fairly high ranking one, the dude has a phd in something usless and gets paid by the state to teach other fags the same usless shit, but they know us, so they wait while their car drives off and we go through the valet process, and I do mean wait. We have to get our stuff out of the car, which takes time but what takes the most time is talking to the young guys working there. They were drooling over my ride, absolutely dumb struck in love with her, asking questions and telling me how they don’t want to park her in case they mess something up. This absolutely bugs the shit out of Mr phd ponytail but man was it fun talking to those young men. Yes the car brings me joy but I also love how she lights up the eyes and souls of other car guys. The compromise on moving my car was they would pull her up 10-15 feet and leaving her covered and under their watchful eye all night. One thing women and girly men don’t get is how respects builds respect and lifts other men. Those boys weren’t sullen that some old dude had a nice ride and a younger woman, they were stoked with the possibilities of their future and treated my beloved Cobra and my blonde bitch with the utmost respect. I tipped well and offered them my gratitude and assurances if they did the smart thing vs the conventional thing they’d end up where I am.

So Mr phd ponytail is pissed, extra pissed because I wouldn’t shake his hand, the short hair bitch is clearly unhappy with the patriarchy oppressing her with boys engaging in silly boy talk and I reckon they are probaly pissed we were staying the night too. They seem like that type and to be h the only overtly rude UMC types we dealt with all night. The story about my car made the rounds while we were mingling and expect for the older folks, you could tell the appreciation for American muscle cars wasn’t there. I did make 3 trips put to the valet station to show off my beloved to some older folks. And I so mean folks. A couple of the older gals followed their husbands out to see what the fuss was about. They were good women. At least that night. How could I tell they were good women? Their eyes light up when their husbands else light up over the car. This is an IOI they can’t fake

800 words to set the tone for the rest of the story. Mostly you stand around, eat finger food, drink a little to much, listens to people talk about the important shit they do for the “community” and bullshit. When they talk about food, they talk about weird shit and not about how two local restaurants made the list for best in the state. Pull pork and fried seafood is to American for their tastes. When they talk about wine they won’t mention how a wine competition took a away a local winery’s silver star medal because it cost less then the minimum bottle they would rate. When they talk about cars it is never about lead sleds and horsepower. They talk about spending serious money to go overseas but haven’t seen shit here locally, or locally in the national sense.

I have been all over the world and the usa has just about everything you could want to do in the world. Unless you want to see castles and ancient ruins that is. World class sking? Folks tell me we got it. World class diving? Got it. Sleepy country roads, high altitude dessert, endless grass lands, remote islands, huge ass cities, local festivals you name it. It’s this travel thing that really struck me this time. I have been to Rome. It’s a giant tourist scam and it sucks. If you have been to Germany, England and anyone one of the Nordic countries you know what every place in Western Europe looks like…. no disrespect intened. I have enjoyed all most all my time in Eurpoe…..  So on and so on. These aren’t bad people per say, but they live in a bubble. Their own different type of blue pill bubble. They know Rome is a giant tourist trap but didn’t see the reality until I mentioned it out loud. They know the grand canyon and Yellowstone are unequaled natural marvels but at the same time they don’t know they are. They have never seen the mighty Mississippi, they have never seen the serene beauty of the Blue Ridge Parkway. They have become dull to the natural wonder of our barrier islands and inter coastal waters. These things that don’t take a 10 hour plane ride and a passport aren’t on their radar screen. They cant see wealth as anything beyond a Eurpean car, the right house and formal schoolimg. Well the middle age ones. The older folks get it. One of the he older doctors said “fuck medical school should have opened a bar” when he saw my beloved, referring to the money required to build a car like that. Another older couple laughed when I dogged out Rome and most of the older folks there had done one or two European vacations and a lot more domestic ones.

Like I said they live in this bubble that makes them damn near insufferable. Can’t even have a rational conservation about Pit Bulls with them because in their bubble all bulldogs are evil or all are wonderful but victims of bad owners. I can’t imagine being happy in such a life. Can they appreciate what they have when they are willfully blind to those who are struggling? Can they fill good about the good they do when they refuse to the misery in the world ? Can they enjoy their daily life and weeknds when only Europe etc is worth visiting? Can the appreciate and rejoice in the wealth and successes of others when they can’t see the difference between themselves and folks who really have money?

Maybe I would potty them if I were a better man but I ain’t so mostly they will annoy me

 

*** I always imagine some Ferris Buller day off deal when I valet park that car but so far there has never been any extra miles on her. Man if I was 20…… though I reckon most young men are better men then me in that regard

Men vs women

Bitches can’t even compete at dumbshit like hotdog eating contests, how the fuck are they supposed to hang in an extend direct combat environment

 

http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/chomp-champion-chestnut-breaks-weiner-wolfing-record-famed-coney-island-n779486

Family traditions; welcome home baby

Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.

There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.

So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.

Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.

These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.

Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last vet from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of

I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go.  I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation

Keep on trucking

I don’t normally write much about long-term life with women. Mostly because my marriage was a train wreck and I have had more success pulling chicks and nexting bitches then keeping them around but things with The Girls have been going well for awhile now. Even after this last meat grinder of a year. I can’t recall the last anything resembling a shit tests and when things looked their worst this year, The Girls never wavered. They never bitched when our budget was cut by more then half, they never got pissy when I hit the road to clear my head. No second guessing. No nagging or pitty parties.

That’s a new experience for me. Times past, women added stress. From the beginning The Girls have made it a habit to talk about me in the 3rd person as if I am not there. Its always amused me. When The Girls talk about me/ us etc it’s no longer about how masculine I am, or how I am an asshole or impossible to live with or how could they both love an asshole so much etc etc

These days the Girls mostly mention how much fun they have with me. I am not sure why the evolution in their discussions but it has been an interesting change, one I didn’t notice until recently. Could a sense of shared adventure be key to LTR success? One would think I started out fun then became an impossible to live with asshole, isn’t that the script? I reckon it took them awhile to fully submit to my frame and adjust to The Ton life. Even the small stuff like eating off those tin camping plates, using dutch ovens over open fires to make supper, fire pit,  smores and wine almost nightly is a departure from their norm.

They never camped before me, didn’t know you could wrap eggs, sausage and hash browns in aluminum foil, toss it on a fire and have breakfast in a few minutes. Never caught fish let alone turn the fish into lunch, right there on the beach by wrapping the fish in foil and tossing it on the fire. Or made chicken stew in a Dutch over over a campfire.

Now all that is old news, but last weekend was our 1st trip off roading. During the build, The Girls were all sickly sweet looks and skeptical smiles but I knew they would enjoy the end results. Girl#2 has always been all about mechanical mayhem and I knew she would enjoy it. Girl#1 gets all smiley and pissed when I do burnouts on the bike or Mustang, but you can tell she loves it, embarrassed about loving it, but loves it, so I was pretty sure she would enjoy the off roading trip.

What I didn’t expect is how much they would enjoy it.

Now the truck isn’t the most radical off road ride but she’ll get the job done. And then some. I lifted it and all that kind of stuff but where I went a little off course is setting it up for camping. We have a camper shell on it, put a homemade rail system in the bed so we can store stuff and slide it all out when we need it and built a bedframe above that so we can sleep on a very comfy foam mattress. A roof rack holds the extra tires, fuel and what not, we can put two kayaks on top of the camper shell if we choose. It ain’t pretty but it’s gets the job done.

Girls eat up attention,and we got a lot of attention. The off road truck/ camper combo was a hit with the other people in the camp site, so was the dog. The Lady Pit is striking, with a big, big friendly personality. We cooked out, and in high fashion. Slept on a nice foam mattress, woke up and had those egg, sausage and hash brown bombs….. we were the talk of the camp ground and I could tell Girl#2 was eating it all up with a spoon, and Girl#1 was enjoying herself as well but in her more reserved manner.

Then we got on the trail. The 1st thing I did was some donuts in the mud, slinging that stuff everywhere while the dog tried to climb in my lap and The Girls laughed like fools. We ran two trails, and I let them run a beginner trail and they were all “we love you” and big smiles. And proud of themselves for driving their 1st off road course.

A week later and it’s about all they talk about.

From a Game perspective there is a lot going on; displays of mastery, demonstrating higher value, pre selection as the other girls at the camp flocked around the rig, talked up my cooking etc etc but but don’t ignore Cindy Lauper’s advice either

I have been deliberate in choosing the outdoor life. These things are fun but there is a larger purpose behind most of what I do. There are certain things I want my son’s to learn. About themselves and about the world, some of which can only be learned outdoors. Some things can only be learned in the ring, others in team sports but the boys are to young for the ring or the ball field.  There are family tradtions I want to preserve for another generation. Skill sets I dont want to see pass away. There are things I want them to do. I want my family to eat certian things and in certian ways. I want these things because they will make my boys better men. I was deliberate in choosing off-roading vs dirt bikes too. I prefer two wheels to 4 but it will be years before the boys can sit a bike but at this point it should all be fun

Have a mission, bend them to your will, have fun

Self-sucfiency, Jack of all trades… ie being a man in a world full of Mancy’s

Cill got me to thinking, dangerous pastime, I know, about how men who were not raised up by traditionally masculine men can address their condition and improve their standing among men.

Being good at being a man entails being as independent as possible and reasonable… ie self-sufficient. It is unrealistic for all men to be good at all things, but most men should and can be reasonably good with their hands. A good stiff jab, a hard straight right hand, a wicked hook, a better upper cut, the ability to repair most shit around the house, to keep your rides tuned and road worthy and the ability  to get yourself out of a bind when your ride doesnt behave isn’t an unreasonable skill set to have and will do much to up your man score.

Nor do these things require a massive investment of time, energy and other resources. Lestwise not when you factor in the return on your investment. Basic plumbing class at the local community college is $85. A turd herder will charge you $40-$60 to come out and replace the inner workings of your shitter. Which takes…. 20 minutes & a $20 kit from Lowe’s. Need to replace the seal between your shitter and floor? That’s going to run you over a hondo for a $15 seal. Spark chasers will charge you $25 to replace a $2.50 outlet. Most HAVAC problems are simple as hell if you know a few tricks, go learn those tricks…. $105 at my local community college.  Knowing a tad bit about automobiles will save you time and money, bring you a sense of accomplishment, and keep you from getting fucked over by the slimy versions of mechanics on the big jobs. Hell the school has a 6 week class focused on repairing common mechanical problems with your car on the side of the road.

Knowing how to do these things, even at a rudimentary level, will bring you standing among men and women. As much as popular culture likes to run down these old school markers of traditional masculinity, the world still responses well to traditionally masculine men.  Imagine discussing your weekend plans and how bad ass it will sound when you tell the chumps you are building a deck while they go shopping with their wives…let those bitches hold sone bitch’s purse. You got man shit to do.  Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride as you learn to rely on yourself more and other men less.

Especially  you nerdy office drone types.

20 minutes from Camp Ton Costal is my county’s community college where you can learn to weld, learn to do those basic repairs to your house, car/ truck, boat or bike. You can learn to sew, learn to cook, learn to make beer, learn to ride a bike, fix a bike and how to do the same things but on boats. Hell you can also learn to fly, do shit with computers, take photographs and get help creating a buiness plan and start your own bidness

Go forth and learn some cool shit and go do said cool shit.

Cut off and happy

I loved watching the storm last night. I opened all three French doors, pulled the recliner over, grabbed a bottle of apple wine, put my Lady Pit in my lap and settled in. The Girls slid up next to me before long.

I am, at this moment, physically cut off from the rest of the world. Its a good feeling. The road that takes us from my little sliver of the inter-coastal waterways to the main land is under water. Not sure how deep, don’t much care, but it’s a couple hundred feet wide. Don’t much care about that either. If I did, I’d put my kayak in the water and find out the depth, maybe find the road under the water, mark the path and drive my truck into town. If driving to town is posdible. Doesn’t seem to be much of a current but if there was, it woukd only take me to town. Which I am happy enough to be separated from.

It’s a peaceful easy feeling. We lost power some time back. Made our inlet nice and quiet. Of sorts. The storm was noisy, but there is no hum from the refrigerator either. I have a generator. Haven’t used it yet. I am enjoying the sounds of nature, family and my neighbors to much. Maybe I’ll crank it up when I run out of ice. Yeti coolers are money, so maybe I won’t run out of ice.

I was up early as I always am and the 1st thing I noticed (beyond the Hell jounds and the Girls) was the silence. No wind, no rain, no sound from the refrigerator. Quick check of the house while Girl glares and my Lady Pit bounces around. Neither would go out for the bathroom in the rain. Ton Spawn was sleeping in, the storm kept him up, the house was intact.

The water is high, maybe 5 ft, right at the edge of our retaining wall and over lapping my dock. We use to be surrounded by wet lands. To our front, the river/ bay, ocean and one of our larger and more popular barrier island. Which i am sure did its protecting us from the wind and storm surge. On the other three sides was wet lands and a road. Now  they are under Lord only knows how much water. I climbed up to the roof/ bbq area of my boat shed and checked out my street. We all did well. The one tree in my street, happens to be in my yard, fell. Ground was to wet to hold it, and it fell across the street. Not much of a tree or obstacle but since you can’t really drive around it now, it needed to be #1 on my to do list. Our little road was cut, and since no one was hurt, or in immediate danger, restoring our high speed avenues of approach became the priorty #1.

I love the silence. We are always quiet,  but this morning it was silent. I wanted to keep it going so I used a pocket saw instead of a chain saw. Made two cuts, which made three peices of tree and cleared the road. A short walk took me tout the next obstacle. Water. The road was cut at the community boat ramp. Not much one can do about that so I turned around and walked back.

And I do have power of sorts. Couple solar panels, couple of deep cycle marine batteries and we have been keeping our phones and tablets fully charged. Could do the same with either the truck or the SUV, but I haven’t cranked either. My neighbors have. In fact the guy at the far end of the road has a small generator going. I hear it occasionally and he came by to let us know we could stash food in his freezer, charge our phones etc. Which we took advantage of. The food storing.

He laughed when I told  him I had a generator but wasn’t using it. They all think I am crazier then a shit house rat but seem to enjoy my company any which way

I did cook for everyone earlier today. By God’s good graces we don’t have much clean up to do. Us even less because I stashed most of our stuff. Nothing major, burgers and dogs, some chicken and fish. Stuff we needed to cook before it went bad. I cooked, kept an eye on some older kids and drank slightly chilled homemade wine while they all worked.

One of the other guys tried to AMOG me.  Some lame joke about me cooking and baby sitting. I laughed, said I didn’t want to break a nail and took a long pull off my bottle of wine. Amature. There he was picking up various bits of debris,  there I was enjoying myself, grilling, drinking and watching the kids and dogs run.

It’s a pretty good life

Truly we are blessed

Life is funny. I could tell the road being cut bothered some people. A quick plan, made up on the fly settled them down. Overt displays of masculine confidence and mastery over the world around you always settles the bitches. Of both sexes. The Girls slid up next to me after the ad-hoc meeting. Daddy likes

All the shit I have on hand for emergencies and I’m not really using any of it. It’s been a very mild disaster for us. More like camping at home. I could be bossier, but why?

I had some regular non treated 2×4’s stashed in the rafters of my garage. A little work with a hand saw and now we have some fire wood. I invited the neighborhood over, all 5 families but not sure any will show up.

Almost everything amuses me. This storm hasn’t been any different on that front. Was interesting watching the Betas be stoic and sort of flippant about the storm. Good, strong  family men. Yeoman worthy of the tittle. The kids have had a blast. My Lady Pit has run wild today because there is no place for her to run off to now that we are a mini island. She has knocked all the kids down at least once. On purpose each time. Girl hasn’t left Ton Spawn or the Girls alone. She sticks to them like glue these days.  I can tell the other dudes wives are happy. Their men were right, no need to evacuate, they can now rest in the strength and decsion making skills of their man. Lest for a few days.

Everyone enjoyed that feeling you get when things are better in the morning. I could tell they all took pride and enjoyment out of cleaning up after the storm, pride and enjoyment in the various clever tricks they came up with to over come the obstacles of having no power, running water and what not. Plus the shared experience of sheltering in place

Time to go put sauce on the chicken and check my trout line before it’s fire pit, wine and pitching woo time

I know many folks are suffering right now, but the Lord was kind to me and mine last night.

Y’all take care now

 

Family joke, serious economic thinking

 

Well, I mighta’ been born just poor white trash
But I sold a million records; made a little cash
The doctors and the lawyers don’t think it funny
That they’re living next door to white trash with money

Read more: Confederate Railroad – White Trash With Money Lyrics | MetroLy

We were out on our dock, bbq’ing, swimming, drinking a little wine, setting off fireworks, being to lazy you put the boat in the water… enjoying a little family time when that song came on the iPod. Ms Dumb but Sweet laughed and said something like “Daddy, this should be your theme song”, before turning it up and dancing like a loon. She is my joy and yeah…. not funny in the retelling, but we all chuckled at the time. Expect Ton Spawn. He almost never laughs or smiles.

She was funny in the moment, as she normally is, but her observation is false. Not the born poor White trash part, or the making a little money part but we don’t live next to doctors or lawyers. We pretty much live next to blue collar sorts.

All the houses around us are on a lake, deep, clear clean water. No high speed motorboats allowed. Everyone has a lake view. Way more trees then people. 5.5 mile round trip walking trail, mostly river front, takes you to another lake community. Trees and ridge lines separate us from the rest of the world. A little shack, and old man with a glock keeps out the rift raft. MostIy the houses are 2400 sqft and up, no lot under 1/3 an acer. Hell the cheap condos go for 180k.

The beach house is on the inter-coastal, 7 houses in a row. All with our own dock, boat lift, boat house, and personal boat ramp. Houses vary a lot more but terrain dictates a lot. We all have those stilt houses. Lots are perfect rectangles, 6 out if the 7 are 1/2 acers of flat grass. One guy has a pool, we have a mini elevator, fishing clean station, outdoors fresh water shower and a hot tubel Wet lands means no more development around us. It’s only us down there so very little boat or road traffic.

Anyrate, it got me to thinking  ( dangerous pass time I know) but none of my actual neighbors are doctors or lawyers. They come as renters for a week or two(@ the lake resort), many to the same house year after year but my neighbors are construction related business owners. Almost universally. One guy owns some fast food joints, another is a former entertainer, 2 are in real-estate, one dude makes his money off golf…. couple of former CEO’s….. no doctors, no lawyers, but we do have an Ivy leaguer. I even looked through the homeowners association stuff that list all the owners with short bios

I know less about my neighbors at the beach. I avoid the area during the peak season, but love it there in the fall, winter and spring so I am only now logging any serious time there. One is a local, pimping Lord knows what to terrorist… I mean tourists.  One is in good ol’ HVAC,  one does large scale drainage and pipe stuff. Most of my money comes from trucking. Blue collar for 4 out of the 7 of us on that little section of the inter-costal water way. 5 out of the 7 live there full time, family comes and go, seemingly at will, but none of us rent to vacationers.

 

The question is, do lawyers, doctors and the “educated elite” lack the disposable income to be owners? Not that they don’t make enough money, but is their overhead to high? Student loans, keeping up with the jones etc….  Those types of degrees and professions are rather common. You’d think we’d live next to one. The median salary for those gigs aren’t very impressive. Or is it cultural? Do they lack the free time to enjoy owning second homes, making renting a place a few weeks a year the more rational choice? Do they choose more upscale resort type locals?  Making two spererate UMC/  UC americas? And if that is so, does that make america more or less fragmented?  Are they rootless? Enjoying 6 weeks of vacation a year, 2 weeks at a time at a different spot every time vs the family ties building block type deal of owning second homes,  going to the same lake, taking the same boat, to the same couple of spots to catch the same kind of fish, year after year, world without end, amen? Do they choose more urban locations?

None of it particularly important but it got me to thinking