Sunday Drive: Come, Ye Thankful People, Come

The beloved hymn of thanksgiving as performed by renowned organist Diane Bish:

Be still and know that I am God.  --Psalm 146

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Trump and Mamdani: Who's Fooling Whom?

Well, fellas, truth is certainly stranger than fiction in this deranged modern world.  Y'all remember last week, I predicted Mamdani would play David to Trump's Goliath.  Yesterday's meeting in the White House might have been a remake of Daniel in the lions' den.  But oh, was I ever wrong.  Turns out, it was Beauty and the Beast all over again. Love has bloomed, and life is beautiful.  Ain't that grand?

This is an invitation across the nation for dancing in the street!

I'm going to keep my predictions to myself in future. When you get two New Yorkers in a room together, there's no telling what the result will be -- love or murder, or who knows what. But I'll say this:  I don't believe a fucking word either of them said. There's a devil's game being played for the cameras, and it stinks. But I'll stop right there.

Put not your trust in princes . . . 

Bonus:  Republican Curtis Sliwa, who came in a distant third in the NYC mayoral race, agrees with your Head Trucker, saying "everyone got played" by these two fakers.  (Can't embed the short here.)

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Waitin' for the Weekend

"What Is Collide Press?" by Clint Collide:

Just pause the video and right-arrow through the pics if you're in a hurry.

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Jeffrey Kevin: Blue and White Thanksgiving Tablescape

Jeffrey Kevin goes over the top once again for Thanksgiving. It's much more than we would ever put on one table, but he does have some very pretty things, and he enjoys displaying them.  And why not?  À chacun son goût!

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One More Time!

It doesn't get any better than this.  Fred Astaire and Eleanor Powell tap out a storm in Broadway Melody of 1940:

And here's Eleanor remembering that number in a tribute to Astaire, 1981:

Somewhere on YouTube is the same delightful clip of their dance, but set to "Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies. I can't find it today, though. 

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Sunday Drive: A Sunday Kind of Love

As performed by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons at Atlantic City in 1992:

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Waitin' for the Weekend

"Be Kind + Rewind Time" by Clint Collide:

If you're pressed for time, just pause the video and right-arrow through the pics.

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Nineteen Seventy-Five

I've been meaning to write something about 1975 for months now, but the year is nearly over.  So I'll just post a few thoughts today, and may post some personal reflections another time.

Bernie asks a question that can only be answered by those who are old enough to remember the time: Was life better fifty years ago?

Regardless of Bernie's remarks, the truth is that the question has no factual answer. Whether life was better then depends entirely on one's point of view. And indeed, no matter what year you want to talk about, in human life it is always the best of times or the worst of times - for somebody.  Your answer hinges on whether you feel loved or unloved, content or unsatisfied, hopeful or despairing.

I am annoyed by some people's comments on YouTube and in other places, people who were children or young teens then -- Oh, what a glorious time it was to be alive, a golden age! The music, the clothes, the cars - and everybody was so kind and courteous and loving. Well, no, that's not the way it was -- it was far from a golden age, as this CBS news summary makes clear, for anyone who cares to look back at the reality of 1975:

After long, dreary years of conflict and protests, defeat and deceit, Vietnam and Watergate were finally behind us.  Tricky Dick Nixon was gone, and steady Jerry Ford was in the White House; he survived two assassination attempts by wild-eyed leftist radicals (seriously) in this year.  Other wild-eyed leftist radicals blew up the State Department, and the Patty Hearst kidnapping ended horrifically.  The Middle East was still in turmoil, as it always is, and the Cold War was still on, with the spectre of nuclear war always in the background. The crime rate was rising, and there was a growing sense of decline in American power, politics, money, and manners, from the bold optimism of the Kennedy years to the stagnant malaise of the post-Nixon era.  Many felt the country was going to pot.

The change was felt most acutely in the pocketbook.  Inflation was out of control:  the Oil Crisis of '73 had made the prices of everything go up sharply.  I remember that the price of sugar zoomed from, say, a dollar a bag to five bucks.  (That equals $30 today.)  The same with coffee.  And for the first time in my life, there were empty shelves in the supermarket.  The recession of 1974 was still going strong, and jobs were hard to find.  Your Head Trucker was finding out the hard way that it was just not possible to live well on minimum wage - $1.60 an hour, so take-home pay was about $240 a month.  Rent on my first little cottage was $80 a month, plus phone and utilities.  For comparison, an apartment in a nice complex with swimming pool cost about $120 a month, or more.

My first home after high school was very similar to this one - but the front door was on the side, under a porch roof, and there were no basement stairs, so the kitchen was wide enough for a table and chairs.  It wasn't new, but it was decent, and it was MY place, where I could do as I pleased.  I felt very grown-up,

The placid "happy days" of the 1950s and early 1960s were long gone by this time, as I remember discussing with my friends.  However, I will say that compared to the state of the world today and the polarized society we now live in, it was easier to live without constant fear and dread back then. The world was already quite complex in those days, but it all seemed more understandable somehow - and it was easier to hope that tomorrow would be better.  

In the Deep South, far from the tumults and convulsions in the big cities up north and out west, everyday life was mostly calm and pleasant as long as you could pay your rent and feed yourself:  books, magazines, records, radio, television, movies, church doings, and simple outings with friends were enough to keep a young man occupied.  Nobody had a home computer; cable TV was non-existent, as were VCR's and DVD's.  Phones still had dials, and they were hard-wired into the wall.  You didn't buy one, you rented it from the phone company for a nominal fee, with a choice of four styles and half a dozen colors.

All that would soon begin to change, but as yet, no one felt a need to be "linked in" every single waking moment, and broadcast to the world pictures of their cat, or their butt, or what they were eating at the burger joint.  People would have fallen down on the floor laughing at the very thought of such nonsense.  

But now we live in a world seemingly controlled in nearly every detail by nosy machines and callous trillionaires. Since this old man's exit will be coming up sooner rather than later, I don't obsess about these things, though I deplore them heartily. But God help the younger generations.

Speaking of whom, someone has come up with a way to assimilate them even faster into the Hive Mind: watch this report on a new school with no human teachers -- and shudder.

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Pork Boys Recommend: General Tso's Chicken

Here's a sure-fire recipe for the best General Tso's Chicken you ever had.  At least, it's the best recipe we've found.   From America's Test Kitchen, father and son team Jeffrey and Kevin Pang - they call themselves the Hunger Pangs - show exactly how to make it, step by step.

M.P. has used their recipe a few times before, and he just made it again yesterday for our Sunday dinner - boy howdy, it's GOOD!  Took a long day in the kitchen, but M.P. says it was worth it - and your Head Trucker totally agrees.  We'll have it again tonight.

Using chicken thighs rather than breast meat makes tender, juicy eating.  And the sauce is just the right balance between sweetness and mild heat.  It's finger lickin' good - I tell you what, boys!

Bonus:  Get the Hunger Pangs' printable recipe here on the ATK website.

BTW, to make a complete meal, you'll also need some white or fried rice and perhaps an egg roll or two to go with the chicken.  Unless you're an experienced cook like M.P., I suggest you get those at the store, ready to heat up.

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Waitin' for the Weekend

"No Matter How Far + How Long #1" by Clint Collide:

To save time, just pause the video and right-arrow through the pics.

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The Anti-Trump Has Arrived

As my longtime truckbuddies know, I've pretty much given up following or blogging about politics lately - it's all too terribly sad, and totally disgusting.  But I did watch the astonishing New York mayoral returns last night, and I listened to Mamdani's victory speech; a cinematic finale to a hard-fought campaign by a political upstart.

So come January 1st, New York will have a Muslim socialist mayor from Uganda.  That's a scenario even Hollywood wouldn't have tried to put over -- "What?  Nah, nobody would believe that."  I'm not sure what to think about it.  New York, you know, is a whole 'nother world from Texas.  What's normal here is considered bizarre there, and vice versa.  So I will reserve judgment until I see what he does in the job.  

Right now, Mamdani is an unknown quantity:  a youngster with lots of idealism but no executive experience - and more than a little naivete, too.  But what's apparent to all is that Mamdani is a born politico, and Fate has dealt him a mighty good hand of cards.  Call it charisma.  It's what makes people sit up and listen.

First of all, he's a sexy guy - handsome, smart, witty, friendly, talkative, flashing a megawatt smile often and easily.  He'd be the life of any party he cared to drop in on.  These things shouldn't count for much in politics, but of course they do.  Imagine if an unknown 33-year-old Woody Allen had run for office, saying all the same things Mamdani has said - would he be in the driver's seat now?  I think not.

Besides his looks and personality, the other thing that stands out is that he's got balls.  At this dark moment in our history, when so many others who ought to be leading the resistance are quaking in their boots, afraid of the Orange Wrath, Mamdani seems ready and eager to face off with the Tyrant.  No fear.  No worry.  Bring it on.  You have to admire a guy with that kind of guts.

One more thing that stands out is his cocksure confidence that he is right.  He doesn't beat around the bush; he knows what he wants to do, and states it plainly.  Promising free goodies is always a crowd-pleasing strategy, on the right or the left.  The possibility of being wrong or mistaken doesn't seem to enter his mind.  That may show leadership ability - or foolhardiness.  A little time in office running the biggest, grittiest, most contentious city in the world will surely temper his juvenile certainties. 

But beyond all that, the headline of  this article from The Atlantic - "Mamdani Is the Foil Trump Wants" - made me realize what the dramatic set-up is here, the protagonist and antagonist.  David and Goliath.  Wow.  Oh wow.  This will make great reading in the history books of the future.  All the elements and players are coming together now, and the drama will proceed to the climax step by step.  

Of course, no one can foresee with certainty the eventual outcome.  But I say, firebrand socialist or not, thank God somebody is standing up for truth, justice, and the American way!  Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

So go make some popcorn and stay tuned.  This is gonna be quite a showdown.

For further reading:  "Zohran Mamdani Is About to Confront Reality" in The Atlantic.

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