Will Edwinson

Author & Storyteller


Will Edwinson PhotoGreetings fellow bloggers.  Here is my latest post.  Rube has some more points about America Ain’t What She Used To Be, so here’s Rube.

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-image-traditional-farmer-straw-hat-corncob-pipe-image24047396Howdy again, folks:

I reckon as how U. S. politics really must be askew when, I, who has been described as being a bit to the right of Atilla the Hun, disagrees with Rush Limbaugh on a point or two; and even agrees with Barack Obama, who is perceived by some to be only a couple degrees to the right of Marx and Lenin.

I never thought I’d find myself agreein’ with Barack Obama on anything, but I have to admit he is partially right about one thing when he said in answer to that question put to him by a seven year old girl.  To her question: “why do you want to be president?” He said—and I paraphrase—“America is no longer the country it used to be.”  I reckon as how that’s where he and I agree.  America certainly ain’t what it used ta be, but that’s as far as our agreement goes. My perspective is much different than that of Chairman  Obama.  He wants more government control; I think government is out of control.

I reckon as how what he really wanted to say, but caught himself before the cat got out of the bag, was:  “America isn’t what it was meant to be, a nation of Utopia, with me as supreme ruler.”  I reckon as how he and his minions in his administration and the present Congress, have sped up the change that’s been a takin’ place over the past hundred years here in America, into a country where the American dream is becomin’ a thing of the past, but his dream of America is about to be fulfilled..

Even though America is still the greatest nation on earth, the American dream is becomin’ increasingly difficult to attain because of the freedom robbing regulations that them liberal progressive politicians—both Democrats and Republicans—has fostered onto us citizens.  I used ta be a Republican, but not no more.  The so-called establishment Republicans has lost their way. I reckon as how they is a wanderin’ around in the desert not knowin’ where their a headin.

I never could understand why the liberal socialist media and the Democrats hated President Nixon so much.  I reckon as how if we stop and look back at the situation, we’d see that we got, durin’ the Nixon administration, most of the programs Hubert Humphrey woulda pushed fer if he had been elected president. Through his Executive Orders, President Nixon gave us, gas rationin’, wage and price controls, and the 55 mile an hour speed limit.  He also, through Executive Order, did away with what was left of the gold standard in this country.  He also signed into law, passed by Congress, the EPA and a whole rash of other regulations.

My disagreement with Rush came when he asked a caller back in 2008: “When were things ever better in America than they are now?”  I don’t know exactly what his point was for askin’ that question. I don’t think he meant fer it to come out the way it sounded. I reckon as how it almost made him out to be a paradox, because he is known for his railing about the ever-increasin’ liberty robbing activities during the last forty years by our government.

I think he must have been feeling some frustration with Mr. Obama’s trashing America back in 2008 to an audience of two hundred thousand German citizens.  I think Mr. Obama made it pretty clear in that speech that he didn’t consider himself an American patriot, but rather a citizen of the world, which I reckon as how he would like us all to become.

Even though my recollections of a better America can only go back as far as the late 1940s—when I began to show interest in current events—and through the ’50s. and  60s, I can answer Rush’s question quite easy.  In many ways, I reckon as how those were much better times than now, or in 2008.

When the shackles of restraint brought on by World War II were lifted, America embarked an era of growth and opportunity previously unheralded.  Durin’ the Eisenhower years, inflation was practically nonexistent, the federal government was experiencin’ real actual surpluses(not just projections) in its budget, and employment was runnin’ high.  There was none of them stifling regulations to contend with that we have today. Business today,folks, has a partner that holds the controlling vote in business activity without havin’ invested a penny in that business.  That partner is the federal government.   This partnership had its beginnin’ with the so-called Great Society.  That was a utopian dream of Lyndon B. Johnson.

These days,  I reckon as how simple tasks like buildin’ a house practically requires the services of an attorney to see that no rules are broken, and the paperwork and permits needed are enough to wallpaper a fair sized room.  All this adds several thousands of dollars to the price of a home. Back in those old days, a simple five-dollar permit secured at City Hall was all that was needed.

Farmers could actually farm their land accordin’ to their own dictates without havin’ to get government approval.  If we had a diesel spill, we just left it alone, and in a couple of years Mother Nature took care of it. In a couple of years diesel eatin’ bacteria had the soil back to sweet as a daisy, and lush green grass might even be a growin’ on the spot.  Now days bureaucrats get into a big panic and call out the environmental HAZMAT team to haul the “contaminated” dirt away and maybe even arrest the poor bloke who spilled the diesel.  I’ve often wondered where they take that dirt.   Wherever they take it, it’s still on the planet ain’t it, or is it shipped to outer space? Seems a bit ludicrous if ya ask me.Computer Image

Yes, Rush, America still provides the greatest opportunity for human existence on the planet, but I reckon as how we need ta be realistic.  We have been willingly givin’ up more and more of our freedom in exchange fer them so-called “Nanny State goodies.” There was a period in America’s history when I reckon as how life and times were simpler, and I believe even a little better in spite of the air conditioners, computers,  the Internet, and all the other high tech stuff we have today. I reckon as how we might live ta see them computer things as a scourge.

Till next time, see ya.


LouIsa Cover PhotoWell, folks, there you have it, more of Rube’s thoughts.  Now on a lighter note, I’d like to talk a bit more about my new novel LouIsa—Iron Dove Of The Frontier.

At twenty-one LouIsa was sagacious woman,  a woman with many facets to her personality.  She had been privileged to attend finishing schools in the East where she learned the ways of “Ladyship” and studied piano under the tutorship of masters becoming proficient with the classical works of Mozart, Bach, Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt, and many others. She took this music to frontier saloons and actually converted the rowdies into liking it.  Some learned the hard way: “You don’t mess with LouIsa.  Following is a short excerpt from the book.

LouIsa, entertainer extraordinaire  was halfway through the 1st movement of a piano concerto that she was playing to a mesmerized audience at the Cattlemen’s Saloon in Wichita when she saw him approach the bar.  He was big and ugly.

“A bottle of whiskey,” he yelled at the bartender.

All eyes focused on Bart Ricklin.  He looked mean and sullen, and there was no mistaking  he was liquored up.

LouIsa stopped playing.

Bart focused his gaze on her.  “So you’re the little squaw lady I been hearin’ about that plays them fancy high‑brow tunes.  People’re a talkin’ about you all across the state of Kansas, Lady.  I must say you’re purtyer’n even I imagined. I always wanted to taste me some squaw meat, and by damn tonight I aim to have me some – high class stuff to boot.”

This statement brought some of the local cowboys to their feet, hands on their gun butts. Drunk as he was, the rowdy was still fast.  His sidepiece cleared leather, and he fired a shot at their feet before they could blink.

“Any of you fellers thinkin’ of tryin’ to interfere with me and this little lady havin’ us some fun?”

His cold mean eyes bore right through them.  They all backed down and took their seats. He uttered a mean laugh.  “That’s more like it,” he barked. “Bunch o’ lily‑livered cowards.”

He holstered his pistol and turned his attention back to LouIsa only to find himself staring down the barrel of her pistol.  She had seized the opportunity of his temporary distraction with the cowboys to retrieve the small .38 “LouIsa  Special” she kept hidden beside her on the piano bench under her full skirt.

Her father Samuel Houston had it custom made for her by the Colt Company.  It was on a smaller frame than most .38’s, and many a foe were lulled into thinking it was less menacing thanit really was.  Bart Ricklin made that same mistake.

Bart laughed at the sight of it. “You aimin’ to stop me with that little pea shooter?” he asked.

He reached out and snatched a bottle of whiskey from the bar and pulled a long horn from it. He felt the whiskey spray, and the glass sting his face, before he heard the shot.  He looked at her with incredulousness.

“You daughter of a bitch,” he roared.  “You shot me.”  He growled like a mad dog and lunged toward her; the .38 barked  for a second time.  He was aware of the dull thud between his legs before he felt the actual pain, then he passed out.  LouIsa’s second shot had found its mark with deadly accuracy,  shattering. . .

Stay turned for the next exciting excerpt in the life of LouIsa—Iron Dove Of The Frontier.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Let’s Connect!

 Follow me on Twitter
 Connect on Facebook
 Amazon Author page

Shadow Revolution Final e-book cover
Grab a FREE sample of my book, Shadow Revolution
Want The Newest Post?

Copyright 2013 Will Edwinson