Sunday, March 12, 2017

Get Back Home, Ruthie


I've been thinking about Spring all weekend...while I've relaxed in this little motel off a rural highway
in far Eastern South Dakota. The small town that I am in is very close to the Iowa border. And when
I reached this quiet farm town, I got the message from a friend in Oregon...
"Ruthie, you passed the recertification and you get to keep what little you have. Come on home, girl."

I was shocked to hear those words from the other side of the Country. But they came across to me
and curled into a smile in both of my ears: "You passed."

I left a man and his clipboard in an office and didn't look back. And I didn't regret that the interview
that was supposed to last for over an hour was suspended after only ten minutes.

He wanted me to prove myself...paint a portrait of justification...for why I "deserved" what little
Uncle Sam still sees fit to give me. When he asked me four different ways if I drank alcohol...I
decided that his time with me was up.

"You sanctimonious, smug, superficial detached asshole" I thought as I glanced at his face one
last time.

And then I unwound my words with a British accent and quoted John Lennon: "On behalf of the
group, I hope I passed the audition."

Then I walked straight out the front door and headed for Iowa.

The morning sun sparkled across the deep snowbanks as the Amtrak train snaked through
Glacier National Park. I looked up at a large A-Frame perched on a hill and wondered if it belonged
to singer James Taylor.

As I traveled, it became colder and colder and colder.

Now, I am thinking about tomorrow. For I will soon be on a train again...returning to where purple,
lavender and brilliant yellow crocuses are blooming again. And although it isn't perfect...I know
that the West Coast is my home. Like the first Springtime flowers in's where I belong.

I'm smiling. Thank you, God. I'm returning home again. I'm going home.

Get Back.

Wednesday, March 08, 2017

Nuclear Blade of Bullshit


"Should the U.S. imperialists and the south Korean puppet forces fire even a single shell into the waters where the sovereignty of our Republic is exercised, the KPA will immediately launch its merciless military counter-actions. The KPA will mercilessly foil the nuclear war racket of the aggressors with its treasured nuclear sword of justice." --Korean Central News Agency.

Well, isn't that just special.

He treats the "State-Run" news service like his own personal blog. You see his flat, Korean face
everywhere on the website: "Kim Jong Un plays with his rockets" or "Kim Jong Un pees into a
parcel of plastic petunias." Obviously those are not actual headlines but you get the idea.

And now, His Over-Inflated Fatness is turning his attention (and his rocket-bombs) toward North

First he plans to nail the United States Military Forces in Japan. After he (and this is only in his
dreams, you understand) is through pounding the hell out of that island, he will shoot his rockets
to North America.

The man is such a hater. Yeah and like his waistline...Kim Jong Un' s streak of malice is a mile
wide. And it is unfortunate to realize that a turd that big won't be easily flushed. But he sure as
hell should be.

I am getting very disgusted with Trump's whining about some past act of alleged wiretapping. It's obvious that Donald The Dumbass wants us to focus on that instead of Kim Jong Un's
future missle strikes.

So now we have a narcissistic imbecile on one continent and an egocentric madman on another land

Guess who's stuck in the middle?

And all that most of the rest of us want is PEACE.

That is a word that I never found anywhere in the English version of the KCNA website today. Nor
did I find a way to communicate directly with the KCNA media, either. That's too bad. Because
today, on International Women's Day...that's exactly what I wanted to do: Send a copy of this post
to KCNA.

...with love and kisses, of course.



Sunday, February 26, 2017

No Fun And No Refund

                                PHOTOS/EDITS BY RUTH RADER

The photograph featured above reflects the way that a motel room should look. But
this post is going to focus on what I faced recently at a little motel in Caldwell,

The following is a copy of a review that I just posted on the Trip Adviser website.
Consider the photo above when you look at the photos that I took of a room that
should not be available for rent, period.

I also want to mention that the price of the motel room pictured above is
comparable to the price of the room described below.

I would like you to heed my advice: DON'T STAY HERE!

I had the misfortune of finding out the hard way just what a stay at this hovel
would mean. And I guarantee you that my experience is not going to end with
a review on Trip Advisor. (Although a review here is a good place to start.)

I was looking for a cheap motel in Caldwell, Idaho and came across this
motel. From the outside, the motel looked old but I have stayed at motels
that are surprisingly nice in the inside.

This one isn't. It's a disgrace.

And I am including photos with this review that prove it.

Usually when I pay cash instead of using a card, I have to sign some
sort of paper. So, being the trusting soul that I am (but never again)
I signed the paper WITHOUT READING IT. Bad move on my part.

And on top of signing the paper, I paid a $20 "deposit" that I was
told would defray any possible "damages" to the room.

(Remember the above sentence as we go along here.)

Then a woman walked me over to a room and unlocked the door.
I walked into the room, looked around and immediately thought,

The room was filthy and it stunk. A gaping hole on the wall by the
front door stared back at me.

                                                      HOLE IN THE WALL BY THE
                                                      INSIDE FRONT DOOR

Dirt was everywhere. A picture on
the opposite wall sported a brown stain that ran from the top to
the bottom of the frame.

                                BROWN-STAINED PICTURE ON THE WALL

An old cord from what used to be a landline phone (and was
now sliced from one end) curled out like a bad snake from the

                                                      REMNANT OF LANDLINE
                                                      PHONE CORD

A dusty analog TV sat in silent embarrassment
outside the bathroom that was JUST. PLAIN. GROSS!!!

I looked up and realized that there was NO SMOKE ALARM
or sprinkler system of any kind in that room. Not even a
shadow of a facsimile thereof.

There wasn't even a washcloth or a single, wrapped plastic
cup to be found, either!

I was outraged.

And after I asked for my money back, the woman said that
because I signed the paper in the office (remember the
paper?) that I legally agreed to their policy of "no refund."

I looked through the open door at the better motel across
the interstate and begged the woman to return my money.
She just gave me a snide look and walked out of the room.

I spent a sleepless night sitting in my walker/wheeler until
my friends came and picked me up. I am convinced that
when one of the female "workers" actually had the haywire
gall to go over and "inspect" the room, she would have
made up an excuse and refused to give me my $20 deposit
back. But my friends were with me and so the woman knew
that she'd bite off more than she could chew and so she
returned the deposit.
I repeat: DON'T STAY HERE!!!