Tales Of Billy’s Tavern

Billy’s Tavern

Smoker had been on the road for what seemed like an eternity, when he saw the lights up ahead.
“Billys Tavern”
The bar was a cinder block building, like the kind you often find in the wide spot of the road.
After being on the road for so long, Smoker didn’t plan to stop at Billy’s, but the sign “cold beer” was exactly what the doctored ordered, so Smoker decided to take a break from the monotony of the road.
So he stopped, and after a good stretch, he made his way inside and was impressed at how clean the place was. A real change from the places Smoker usually stopped.
The place was very familiar, and he wondered if he had ever been there before. Deciding to get something in his stomach to go along with the “cold beer”, Smoker was surprised when the bartender already had the beer drawn and sitting in front of a stool at the bar.
“A cold Bud, draft, right?” said the bartender.
Smoker just nodded. Then the bartender didn’t ask if Smoker wanted to eat, he just described the sandwich and told Smoker it would be ready in a minute.
Deciding to go with the flow, Smoker again just nodded and started on the beer. The sandwich that was delivered was big and thick and the beer cold. At this stage of the trip, that was all he wanted anyway.
That and just some plain quiet.
Since Smoker was the only one there besides the bartender, everything was working out just fine.
Over the next 20 minutes, he ate his meal methodically. Appearing as if in a trance, it was clear that the road was taking a toll on him.
As he sat there, Smoker considered ordering another beer, but instead took out three photos that had been occupying his wallet, a long time.
The first was a picture of a much younger man. The guy in the picture didn’t look much like the bearded, gaunt man staring back from the barroom mirror.
Proudly wearing a U.S. military uniform, smiling with a bright light to his eyes, standing with a lovely, young and very pregnant woman and, what was then a brand new Harley, the young man in the picture was far away from the man peering at his past.
The words on the back, Smoker knew by heart,
“Mary, baby, and me, 1989”. It seemed like a hundred years ago.
The second picture was of the same young man, only this time there didn’t seem to be any light in his eyes. He was skinny and drawn, and showed signs of too much time squinting at a too bright sun reflecting off of too much white sand.
Mary was there too. She still looked lovely, albeit a little older. Smoker wondered what she might have looked like today.
This picture had been taken just after Smoker had returned from the desert the first time. The aftermath of that tour was plainly etched on his face, but those stress lines couldn’t compare to the internal scars he carried.
He didn’t even bother to turn the tattered photo. Like the first one, he knew the words by heart.
Finally, Smoker pulled out the last tattered photo. It was of the girl. A woman now, she shared the shot with a young boy.
Smoker didn’t look at the picture too long, and instead turned it over and looked at the back. The front image was just too painful. It felt as if it were taken just a moment ago.
The cancer pain was clearly displayed on the woman’s face…the picture taken just months before the end…another important time he wasn’t there.
The words on the back were a little out of focus. Maybe there was something in the air that irritated Smoker’s eyes, maybe it was a tear.
“Your son James 5th B-Day Sept 14, 1994” it read.
The bartender came out from the back of the bar and started polishing bottles. Smoker didn’t see any dust, but the guy kept polishing anyway. Suddenly Smoker spoke up,
“Hey!”, he exclaimed, his voice little more than a croak. “What day is it?”
“Thursday”. Replied the bartender.
“No man,” Smoker answered. “I mean what day of the month? Hell. What month, and you might throw in the year just to be safe”. Smoker had been on the road for quite a while.
The bartender put down the clean bottle he was polishing and looked at the man sitting at his bar.
“You never been in here before, have ya?” asked the bartender.
“No”, replied Smoker. While turning the thought over in his head.
I’m pretty sure I ain’t. By the way, how did you know what I wanted when I came in?”
“My name is Billy, this is my place, and I know whatever I need to know about anybody that comes in my front door,” he said with authority.
It didn’t seem to be an answer as much as it was a statement of fact.
“And to answer you first question, today is Thursday, August 31st, 2006”.
Smoker did some quick math in his head and then asked,
“How far is it to Seattle?”
Billy scratched his head, and answered with a question.
“Is that ’89 of yours running pretty good?”
Smoker just nodded. He didn’t remember telling the guy what year his bike was. Hell, he never even mentioned he was on a bike.
“Well, if you can take the ride, it shouldn’t take you more than 4 hard days ride to get there”, added Billy.
Smoker again did the math in his head. If it took four day’s to get there, that would leave him ten days to find Mary’s parents and celebrate his son’s birthday. That was something he hadn’t done since…well, in a long time.
“You want that other beer now”, asked the bartender. Funny, Smoker noticed he didn’t seem to be reaching for anything to put a beer in.
“Nope”, answered Smoker. “I got a birthday party to go to. Thanks for the hospitality, maybe I’ll see you again.”
Smoker put on his leather jacket and walked out the door. Moments later Billy heard the sound of a big twin start up and head down the road. Billy leaned against the bar and looked at the cash register and the faded picture taped to the mirror.
There was a big shiny red Indian motorcycle parked under a shady tree. Standing next to it was a smiling young woman, a small child, and the man that would become Billy. A picture taken what seemed a thousand years ago. Softly touching the picture, and staring out the window, Billy’s shoulders seemed to shrink just a little as he listened to the fading sound of the motorcycle in the distance.
“Vya Con Dios, Amigo”, he whispered softly under his breath. “Go with God my friend.” turning slowly he went back to polishing the clean bottles and glasses….

Motes Of A Mind

Recently a black law professor publicly shamed and ridiculed a white student who had the audacity to show up to class wearing a MAGA hat. Even though the student was not named, the size of the school and the description of the classroom would leave it very easy to ascertain. The professor made all sorts of claims and conclusions about the student and his underlying and unspoken racism without regard to the first rule of law, (remember this is a law professor), evidence. When the hell are these “woke” people going to wake up? Sometimes a hat is just a hat.

Can someone, anyone, tell me how to drop the “reply to all” button from everyone’s else’s computer? Please. PLEASE!

Well, they finally ended the witch hunt investigation into the death of Eric Garner in New York city. Garner died while being restrained and arrested by NYPD officer for a misdemeanor. The video and the other evidence gathered in the investigation “does not establish beyond a reasonable doubt that the officer acted willfully in violation of federal law,” This was the application of the police “choke hold” or “rear naked choke” which is now banned by most departments. I have used that hold literally hundreds of times. This death was the result of other physical problems of the deceased, not the restraining hold used. Still, a tragedy.

Headline that wasn’t needed; Miley Cyrus is getting boring. What do you mean “getting”?

In (formerly) Great Britain; Doctors see a significant rise in “punishment” stabbings. They say that they are seeing many “spoking” injuries. This is when you take the spoke of a bicycle, sharpen it to a fine point, and then you stab people with it. Kind of like kneecapping in the old IRA days. It is also reported that some Somali mothers are sending their sons BACK to Somalia to escape the violent drug gangs and punishment stabbings. Back to escape violence? OMG, let’s pass a law against it. We did? How’s it working?

Once again Tulsi is missing the boat. I mean vote. So far this year she has missed 24.1% of the House votes. This gives her the ninth WORST record for voting this year. It’s not like they weren’t important bills. Among those she missed; National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2020; an amendment to the NDAA to prevent President Trump “from launching a military strike on Iran without prior congressional approval; the bill to reauthorize funding for the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund; nor did she vote to defeat a Republican bill “to develop low-yield, or tactical, nuclear weapons for use on specific battlefields.” It would seem that these are the same things she is always talking about, but not important enough for her to vote on.

Motes Like Bubbles On THe Wind

Tom Arnold, the ex-Mr. Rosanne Barr, claims “this is exactly how it started in the 1930’s, Families rounded up”. Well somewhat, Tom. Then they rounded up legal citizens of a specific religious or ethnic background, and those doing the roundup violently beat anyone who opposed them. They then systematically gassed, shot, and starved those gathered to death and gave them no chance to get away. THAT is what Nazi’s do. Those doing the violence claimed they were only following orders. Here we want to round up those here illegally, once gathered, they can return to their country of origin any time they wish, we are not killing them in any manner, and our law enforcers are following the “law”. If you don’t like the law, work to change it. But DO NOT condemn those enforcing it by word, accusation, or (Hey Alyssa this one is for you) by creating false images.

Another Headline Not Needed ; Welcome to Honolulu, were there’s no place to park.

Congratulations: On July 11, 68 individuals from 15 countries became citizens of the United States of America. They took the oath aboard the USS Missouri. They did it the right way. Aloha, welcome.

Only seen in The Federalist: Women from all 50 states gather in D.C. to Advocate for gun rights. These women, rape victims, competitive shooters, and mothers attended several days of meetings and then gathered on the last day on the West Lawn to hear speakers, survivors, and experts discuss the rising demographic of female gun ownership. All the MSM carried stories of the gay day parades. None of the carried this story. Doesn’t meet the scenario I guess.

It’s always easy to make promises you know you won’t have to keep. Check out “Beato’s” promises not to prosecute people for being “human beings”, when elected. Like I said, he’ll never have to keep that one.

If you are “sworn in” to tell the truth, then you tell a provably false story, a story you know to be false, isn’t that “perjury”? Just asking for my friend A.O.C.

I cringe every time I hear someone on television, or in a movie, pump/rack their double-barreled shotgun.

In New York, a worker at the Simply Natural Foods fell into a vat of chocolate. I’ve heard the Smothers Brothers Song and saw the 9-1-1 episode about it. But then truth is stranger than fiction. (Thanks to Dave Berry’s Blog)

A Virginia man wearing a Captain America t-shirt was arrested Tuesday evening for striking two victims in the head with a hammer, police report. According to the Washington County Sheriff’s Office, the suspect “went into another room of the residence and retrieved a hammer,” which he then used to hit “both victims in the head.” While investigators did not reveal a motive for the attack, they believe alcohol and drug use were a factor in the incident. Well, duh.

Speaking of chocolate; In Germany police say a stretch of the autobahn had to be closed due to ,”Burning chocolate”. A truck with 17 tons of cocoa caught fire and was totally burned. No reports of anyone “down wind” during the fire.

New Week New Motes

I guess the new “status” thing is to claim your ancestors “owned slaves”. This from the Irish guy who claims to be Mexican. And the Hindu-Jamaican who claims to be “colored. Talk about chameleons.

Gov. Andrew Cuomo warned on Sunday that Con Edison “does not have a franchise granted by God” and “can be replaced” as the power company admitted it still couldn’t explain why a blackout struck a large swath of Midtown Manhattan. Sure they can be replaced, by who and with what system? Or is the City going to make ConEd state owned and run? Yeah, that’ll work well. Oh, and he also talked about replacing Comrade De Blasio as he was running for President and not running the city as Mayor.

Regarding the “assault attack” on the Tacoma, WA, federal detention facility. Sounds a lot like “suicide by cop” to me.

In Australia, four children ages 10, 13, and 14 , not related, took family SUV of one of the 13 year old’s, loaded it with fishing gear, and after leaving a “good-bye note” headed for the coast. They made 600 miles in two days before stopping, filling with diesel and drove off without paying. That’s what got them noticed. The “short stature” of the driver. Up to here this was a normal news report. Then it went on the say the fuel theft occurred in the town of Banana. “Banana is a town of a few hundred people that grows no bananas and is named after a dun-colored bull.” I keep saying. Australia is the world’s Texas.

She kneels for the National Anthem. She calls all her fans her “bitches” and “motherfuxxers”, steps on the U.S. flag after winning a “world” title (as a member of the U.S. National team). Then claims, “Trump is dividing the country”. “Trump is being disrespectful”. Does anybody recognize hypocrisy when they see it? Or is it just me?

41 shot, 9 dead. How’s those tough gun laws working Chicago?

Oh Darn It’s Monday Motes

There is no law, when the lawmakers instruct others on how to break it. Hillary Clinton, Nancy Polosi, and A. Ocasio-Cortez have issued tweets, in Spanish, advising “immigrants” about ICE raids and how to avoid being questioned and/or arrested. These are people who swore an oath “to protect and preserve the Constitution of the United States”. Now you know how good their “word” is once given.

And Rep. Omar, they are NOT undocumented Americans. They are not AMERICANS in any shape, manner, or fashion. They ARE citizens of whatever country they came from and to call them Americans is an affront to the people you supposedly “represent”. Or should I say “resent”?

During a recent traffic stop in Oklahoma, police discovered a rattlesnake, radioactive uranium, and an open bottle of Kentucky whiskey inside a car that was suspected of being stolen. The driver, was charged with possession of a stolen vehicle, transporting an open container of liquor, operating a vehicle with a suspended license, and a failure to carry security verification form. The passenger was charged with possession of a firearm. After providing a valid Florida Voters ID the rattlesnake was allowed to move on.

Headline Not Needed: Politicians Don’t Actually Care What Voters Want. Kind of like the Honolulu Rail. Nobody cared what the people, you know the one’s paying for it, want. I remember when they asked the population what… oh wait, they never asked.

From Presidential Candidate Buttibig,A Comprehensive Investment in the Empowerment of Black America.” So as president he plans to only help Black Americans. What about the blue americans, the green americans, and the 50 shades of gray americans.?

We’re getting silly here: In Amazon, “Multi-tool Tactical Hairclips”. Contains bottle opener, box cutter, screw driver, and scrapper. A veritable Swiss Army Hair Clip. And they come in different colors.

Headline: Biden Vows To Restore World Order. Hey Joe, we don’t need to “restore” the rest of the world. We need to get our country in order first, last, and only.

Does anyone remember the “black ice” use in the 80’s? Black Mexican tar Heroin and Methamphetamine (Ice) smoked together. It was reported to be 100% ADDICTIVE ON FIRST USE. Fortunately, it only lasted a short time (in drug years) but we have a new one out there. “Calvin Kline” is a mix of cocaine (Calvin) and Ketamine (Kline). Coke we’re all pretty familiar with, but Ketamine is much different. At lower doses, it can help ease pain. Ketamine helps sedatives work and may help people need fewer addictive painkillers, like morphine after surgery or while caring for burns. When misused, Ketamine can change your sense of sight and sound. You can have hallucinations and feel out of touch with your surroundings — and even from yourself. It can make it hard to speak or move, and it’s been abused as a date-rape drug. This is a killer.

Florida Woman: A woman in a Tampa suburb slashed and stabbed her boyfriend multiple times because he told her he was “too tired for sex”. Don’t know if he had a job or what, but looking at her mug shot and her half-shaved head, I think “too tired” is an euphemism for “you’re too darned ugly” or “I ain’t drunk enough yet”.

A must watch with a flow chart: Killer Affair on Oxygen TV is so confusing and intricate you need to watch it and keep a flow chart of who is sleeping with who, whose lying about what, and then you realize it is a true story worthy of Dashall Hammett. A mix of recording, reenactments, and interviews it is a good hour to watch if you’re into that sort. I am, and it is.

Shocked I tell you, Simply Shocked: Snack sales jump in states where weed is legal. Take a lesson from the San Diego Girl Scouts. Setting their cookie stand outside the “Urban Leaf” a legal marijuana dispensary, they sold 312 boxes of cookies in 6 hours. That’s “knowing” your target group.

Motes Down The River

I love humanity; it’s people I can’t stand. Mental health is relative; your relatives will drive you crazy.

“Shoot the gun out of his hand”: A report says man fired 39 shots, at a naked woman, in his home, in the same room, and scored no hits. Now this would require at least 2 reloads and maybe more. The problem was ended by the homeowner’s son and a wrench. What we have here is a failure to practice, practice, practice, and use the sights. It has been suggested that maybe the home owner (shooter) couldn’t bring himself to drop the hammer on another human being. I can understand that, but those 39 slugs went and stopped someplace. Good thing that stopping place wasn’t a neighbor or their child.

It is a real thing: Amish Romance novels. Going to have to check Barnes and Nobel for this genre’. It is a chaste romance with a happy ending and no sex. Sort of like marriage only with a happy ending.

Why does everyone keep saying Epstein “had” incriminating photo’s of Bill Clinton. (I really don’t what to see any of Hilary.) As long as nobody can prove they were destroyed, and Epstein doesn’t have an “accident”, he HAS incriminating pictures of B.C. Come to think of it, I don’t want to see those either.

Robert Foster, a Republican candidate for Mississippi Governor, has refused a female reporter request that she accompany him on a 15 hour “ride along” on his campaign unless she brings a male associate. His comment to Ms. Larrison Campbell was “This is my truck, and in my truck we go by my rules”. Foster says he and his wife Heather made the agreement that he would not be alone with another woman, he referred to it as the “Billy Graham Rule”, before he decided to run. Some see this as a step in protecting the professionalism in the work place while the usual suspects scream “sexism” and “unfair” to women. Sorry, I gotta take his side. There are just too many “unsubstantiated claims” that have destroyed lives. I this this is a good practice. But I ain’t running for no office.

And it wasn’t in Florida: A woman has been arrested for driving around with an inflatable kiddy pool on the top of her car, with 2 kids in the pool. She says they were there to hold the pool in place while she drove home after inflating it at a friend’s house. You can’t fix stupid.

Speaking of …. politics; Rosie O’Donnell says the is “a creepy incest” feeling between President Trump and daughter Ivanka. But appears to have nothing to say about the 25+ documented trips Bill Clinton made to “Lolitia Island”. Actually, I’m not surprised because I know Rosie likes his saxophone. He he he

Tales Of Billy’s Tavern

Smoker
It was early spring when Smoker made the decision. It doesn’t matter why, once it was made, he wasted no more time thinking about it, he just went into action.
It took less than half an hour to pack everything he “owned”. He’d bought the bike new, now it had over 75,000 miles from going here and there. That roll that held Smokers entire life was lashed to the small sissy bar.
It took a couple of days to get from where he was to D.C. Smoker didn’t need a house, just a friendly park with some dark shadows where he could hide the bike while he slept.Actually, sleep wasn’t much of a problem. Since he came back from the big sand pile, Smoker didn’t sleep much or very deeply.
His heart was heavy as he wandered the “gardens of stone” at Arlington. It was hard but he did manage to find the final ground of some of those he had been with. And as he walked, he felt the shadows of the other warriors who now resided in that hallowed ground, walking beside him. It seemed that some wanted to speak to him, but Smoker’s mind was made up.
As he wandered, Smoker would sometimes stop in front of a warrior’s resting place and read the markers writing. They were from everywhere. Europe, Southeast Asia, Kuwait, the Pacific, Afghanistan, Somalia, South America, and Iraq. Or course, some were far older than those Smokers had come to see, but they were all brothers in this place.
Finally Smoker found a comfortable AO and sat down. There he knew he had to tell the truth. There could be no lies here.
So he began his tale, starting from the day he returned. He spoke of the people he knew and loved that no longer seemed to understand him. It had been hard when he returned. There just wasn’t much work for an experienced gunfighter. He tried wearing the badge for a while, but there was just too much hypocrisy for Smoker.
So he tried working the other side of the street for a while. He sold a little dope and such, but that was too much like…., well, Smoker just didn’t have the stomach for that sort of life. He’d watched it ruin too many others. There were some good times, so he spoke of those, just as he spoke of the bad.
It took hours and damn near the whole bottle of Black Jack, but finally he was done. He’d told it all and there was only one thing left to do. Smoker policed his area, walked out, and climbed on the bike. As always, she started right up and seemed eager to get on the road again. Smoker felt a little sad that this ride would be so short.
The park was next to a lake and it was quiet and cool. Smoker found a nice spot under a tree where he could see the sky and stars and sit comfortably.

The ping of the cooling engine mixed harshly with the sound of the single gunshot. Smoker was at peace, at last.