samoyeddogs

Oktoberfest 2016

Don and Mike. What a falling out was there. So little has changed you don’t know where to begin. Did anybody really think Donny was pure? There’s probably a hundred tapes like that. I can see Don post election. “I’m talking about a huge success here. This just isn’t epic fail, it’s terrific fail.” He’ll be looking for work and getting it.

But that’s not why we’re saving this draft this evening. We’re here to talk about Ted Cruz and Oktoberfest. I love how they spell it like that. Ted is back. The Calgary native has dis-re-endorsed. He invented a new concept. After discussions with his team and his family, the way forward is no go. I don’t blame him. He felt he had to do something.

Ted Cruz and Oktoberfest and I go back a long way. We go back two posts ago, a place not even this soldier wants to go.

It doesn’t matter now. If you ever wake up in the Hofbräuhaus at 5:30 in the morning don’t worry about it. It’s a big place and they just couldn’t find you. I was there.

Oktoberfest is obviously a special time. It’s Oktoberfestbier time. And this Paulaner put me right back there in old München. Dear, dear Munich.

Most of all I remember the bier. Don’t say that too many times or they’ll think you’re weird. And they’ll be right.

Post Debate 2 it’s plain the Trumpster’s a mad stalker. He couldn’t stand still and was obviously doing everything he could to hold himself back from cold-cocking Hillary with that mic of his.

Did you catch him with those burning eyes looking straight into the burning camera eye of America? “Don’t you understand? I wanna be prezident. Prezident Prezident Prezident. Is that so hard for you people? Look. What part of want to be prezident don’t you get? Prezident. Me. You losers!”

Samoyeddogs’ll be right back

Outpost Of Empire 4

Then Don goes bitching about the mic set-up at the debate. What a whiny little ***** this dude is. I nearly burst into tears, such was my empathy. I was so glad when somebody else besides me noted the similarities between Donny and Mussolini. I mean, come on, Don. I took that course. Now he’s bragging about how he hasn’t paid taxes in years. Wystan Hugh Auden says it best: “Intellectual disgrace stares from every human face”. Auden was great at parties.

“When you’re listening to “A String of Pearls” in twilight on Boundary Pass you know you’re at this Outpost of Empire. We’re back. Let’s capitalize on that. This gig is goin great. The votes are in and Glenn Miller and his orchestra are the big winners this evening. “Perfidia”. “American Patrol”. “In the Mood”. That’s how it goes. That’s the way it’s always been with me. What I mean is the job isn’t bad but the pay’s nothing. It’s the calmness at twilight out here because it isn’t always like this.

You start thinking about what’s it gonna be tonight? Mexican or British? What’s happening in the kitchen? It’s right in my kitchen. I mean “Better come in the kitchen, cause it’s going to be raining outside”. That’s when you know the forecast and you’re good with it. It’s all good. And then you just don’t care anymore. Because you’ve won, handsome. You made it and it didn’t matter if anybody noticed because this here is it!

Drown me with a spoon the “Maasdam” is just coming through Boundary Pass. A beautiful ship. Holland America Line. Sailing west heading for Haro Strait. A bit down in the bow and listing to port but that’s the sort of thing nobody on board ever notices. I apologize this image isn’t a bit sharper. I dropped the camera. 1250 passengers. 580 crew. Outbound for Sydney, Australia by way of Hawaii and the South Pacific. Holland America Line is headquartered in Seattle, Wa. I didn’t know that.

We’d just like to acknowledge the kind feed-back from the good people of Sequim, Washington and their kind forbearance for the the fact that (an expression my mother told me never to use) the site didn’t know the correct pronounciation of the name of their fine town. Pronounced “Squim”. You know, I seen it on a map and always thought of it as “See-quim” but that is just plain wrong. Next up on KSQM Miss Peggy Lee and “Why Don’t You Do Right (Get Me Some Money Too)” . Tomorrow night Iggy Pop’s coming in with some “Raw Power” and I know we’re going to get a load of that.

Thank you for your kind interest in this little travelogue. We appreciate it. Stay with us. We’ll be right back after these important messages.

Outpost Of Empire 2

Saturna Island, British Columbia. September 25, 2016. It’s 91.5 FM in this outpost of empire. KSQM. “Squim” they call themselves, somewhere out of the state of Washington. Playing nostalgia songs for island duffers like me lying around in our snot, resisting the urge to pour a gigantic bourbon at three o’clock in the afternoon. Jim Reeves. Dean Martin. Tony Bennett. Patsy Cline. Hoagy Carmichael.

It’s clouding up over Boundary Pass and in the midst of these reveries I decide to don some socks. We’re livin great days, bro. To our immediate south, across the pass, lies America. It’s in the form around here of the San Juan Islands. It takes other forms elsewhere, but around here it’s the San Juan Islands.

They’re where they’re supposed to be, and we’re where we’re supposed to be. It’s how we like it. Peaceful. We are keeping watch, but there’s not much going on so the breaks are plentiful and lengthy.

5:00 pm. Watch on the pass. ‘Who the cap fit, let them wear it’ as Mr. Bob Marley so eloquently put it. It’s our music now, coming out of the player. Thinking of dear Ted Cruz and how he has really demonstrated what kind of strange man he is. Now he’s for it. Hitherto he was agin it. Now he for it. Because the apocalypse is all got to be defeated, ya know? Thank you black people. And white people, a course. And all you Latinos out there. Luv ya! And, less we forget, heh heh, all you lovely ladies out there and all you women across this great planet of ours. Don’t ya luv it? Don’t ya? Tom Cruz? Cruz control? Cruzamania? 4 ½% of Americans are solidly behind me? Oktoberfest?

Boundary Pass is a large, pass-y type body of water with many moods and configurations. Actually, it’s just a body of water in what they call the Salish Sea, a name I don’t quite like, and that would be salt water. This is better than misspelling for fun. We’re gonna take a short break and take a leak at things. I mean take a look at things.

5:30 pm. States is cooking off some peat we brought home from Ireland 20 years ago. Lighting a bit of it in the wood-burning stove we’ve got going, transferring it to a little plate and bringing it over to me so that we may experience the fragrance together again. The smudge fire.

We gave this hunk of peat to her mother when we got back, and now we have it back as she has gone to South Granville Park Lodge and her house cleaned out. This is the truth.

6:15 pm. The sky and those streaks of cloud over the Olympic range of the Cascade Mountains is a magnificent sight. Due south. We’re straight north about a hundred miles from the “Olympic Peninsula”. Let’s get our bearings sorted out.

Blasting from the speakers now is “The Invincible Eagle” by Mr. John Philip Sousa, not only written but performed on several occasions when he was leader of the United States Marine Band. USMC, right? Semper fi semper fi….

Now I know that all you Americans out there are just itchin to get your hands on the channel changer so you can get on over to the latest recap on the 1st presidential debate. I’m out. I mean out on deck here in the gathering twilight. Check the map. It’s right here. We’re at 123.3 or so degrees of longitude west and 48.2 latitude or so north.

For some folks we’re harder to find than a chicken in a haystack but once you’re showed you never forget where you are. We just don’t have a TV and we’re loathe, right now, to check our devices. We’re in full loathe.

Out there shadowing the invisible border line in Boundary Pass an Orca class RCN ship out of Esquimalt naval base bearing east, northeast.

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