“Me-ism” is driving me crazy.

Today's Tids Issue 3,782

For Silence, please:

Ooooh, Raahbbb! I feel robbed hearing the about the death of Mary Tyler, Moore, everybody’s light in the sky. She was always the blue skies for every grey day, whether in love with Rob Petrie, or battling everybody’s favorite curmudgeon Lou Grant. What did opening song of her show say…”Who can turn the world on with her smile, Who can suddenly take a nothing day and suddenly make it seem all worthwhile..” Yup that’s the MTM everybody wants to remember…just because she always made you feel so good. Oh yeah, Danny Thomas says that when Mary was looking for a job on his TV show early in her career, he didn’t hire for a role as his daughter, “because nobody in his family ever had a cute little nose like hers.” See ya, Mare. The sun is always shining above the clouds.

There are some knowledgeable folks who think the best “Wall” of all is EVerify. And, it is cheaper.

I’ll be honest with you – I watch all of those pillow commercials and wonder why not having the right pillow has never been a problem in my life. I just fall asleep. Maybe writing these Tids is tougher work than I imagined. Zzzzzzzzzz.

When the weird get going, the going becomes unfathomable. Yesterday Chelsea Manning said that the man who commuted his sentence was “not being strong enough (As A Leader with Congress).” Guess who tweeted in to defend President Obama? You got it.

The Question:

Name five characters from the Mary Tyler Moore Show.  Bonus:  List the ten Oscar nominated movies by US ticket sales.

The Headlines:

--Stocks Flat Following Yesterday’s Milestone, But Staying Baove..

--Chicago’s Emmanual Says They Will Take Trump’s Help But Not troops.

--Trump Thinking Of Cancelling Meeting With Mexico After Mexico Seems To be Thinking of Cancelling Meeting With Trump.

--Venus To Meet Serena In All Williams Australian Open Final.

--No Oscar Nominated Film Reached $100 Million In ticket Sales.

I think one of the main reasons people dislike Trump is because they thought he was such a loser that they didn’t buy stocks prior to the Trump boomlet. He keeps on fooling everybody about everything, and it gnaws at the antis. A study shows that only 52% of Americans own stock. I guess they are still scared from 2008.

A lot of golfers will be watching the tournament in San Diego this week to see where Tiger is in his return to the tour. Some of us are thinking he will find it surprising, more difficult than ever, as the younger players seem to be fearless, with a new relatively obscure possible winner emerging each week.

I never knew I had so many friends until FaceBook started sending me names…day after day after day after day... The funny thing is that all of these friends seem to have changed their names, because I never heard of any of them.

Jeez, thanks a lot Richard Perry…for dumping Jane Fonda. Yeah, thanks. Now we will have to watch her at various and sundry protests as she retreats from her now empty fireside. Yeah, right just what we need now, Hanoi Fonda – that will be good for unity.

I may have to give up Cheetos. One of the loud woman in the march described Trump as looking like, “he was covered in Cheeto dust.”

A lot of the columns yesterday and today about MTM seem to dwell on the fact that she had the “First Career Woman sitcom”. Personally, I watched it because I enjoyed it.

The sanctimonious sanctuary city Mayors are going berserk after yesterday’s announcement form Tumperino on illegal immigration. Actually trump is just reiterating what Obama was already doing during 2016–deporting 60,000 illegal law breaking immigrants back to their countries. It’s all politics and the media just plays along adding fuel to a fire.

Yesterday another Trump edict placed a “moratorium” on refugees from certain Middle East countries. The left quickly redefined Moratorium as “Ban” and the press ran with it. One lame Liberal with tears in her eyes said “there are 8 million Syrians out there… The she finished with “We would have forgotten the Jews in Germany too.” Oh year, that’s good bring in a little Nazism and lose all credibility.

Basically, what Trump signed wasn’t an edict at all. It was what all presidents sign as required every year under immigration law as it pertains to Refugees: “—Review the refugee situation or emergency refugee situation.  –Project the extent of possible participation of the U.S. in resettling refugees.  –Discuss the reasons for believing that the proposed admission of refugees is justified by humanitarian concerns, grave humanitarian concerns or is otherwise in the national interest.” The Prez signing this initiates consultations with the cabinet and congress to generate a determination. In other words, there is a lot of law and congressional involvement that guides the proper development of a refugee program.

The problem is that when Trump talks about his stuff, it always sounds worse than it is. Maybe he should stop talking and tweeting.

The Rasmussen Poll has Trump’s popularity soaring. The company’s Daily Presidential Tracking Poll has the new President at 57% approval among likely voters. 43% disapprove. Of the new totals, 42% strongly approve while 33% strongly disapprove. Unfortunately, “Spell-Check” still hasn’t recognized that a spelling option for trump is Trump with a capital “T”.

The biggest problem about Trump is that he has reawakened Jane Fonda. 

Trump sounds like the salesman who always agrees to everything and then tries to figure out how to agree with what he said later.

People keep on telling me that windmills on hillsides or in the deep blue sea are attractive. Personally, I thought trees and open oceans were far better.

One of the nice things about living by the sea in the wintertime is that there is nobody here. Now the newspaper is promoting how beautiful beaches are in the winter. Great, just great. What’s next, a march against Trump?

It seems like there is a lot of news these days, but it’s mainly the media talking about Trump talking.

A news headline read: “Tech billionaires and super rich stock up on apocalypse insurance.” Say what? Apocalypse? Insurance payment?

The Parking Lot Revisited continues below the Answer.

The Answer:

Last year’s Oscar winner “Spotlight earned just $45 Mil In the Us. The top US earner this year til now is Arrival with $95. Next s La la with $89M. Hidden Figures comes in at $83.3 M. Hacksaw Ridge was surprising low at $65.5 M, Fences has $48.7M. Manchester by the Sea hit $38M, Hell or High Water is at $27M, Lion is at $16.3 M and Moonlight was last at $15.8M. Bonus: The cast of Mary Tyler Moore Show that ran from 1970 to 1977 had Mary as Mary Richards, and Ed Asner as Lou Grant, Gavin McLeod as Murray Slaughter, Ted Knight as Ted Baxter, Valerie Harper as Rhoda Morgenstern, Georgia Engle as Georgette Franklin, Betty White as Sue Ann Nivens and  Cloris Leachman as Phyllis Lindstrom. Penny Marshall also showed up in a few episodes as Paula Kovacs. Actually, there were about another hundred or more very good character actors how traipsed that’s stage – All bringing a good laugh.

Hey, I forgot to mention the other day that there are a few new pics at worldviewetc.blogspot.com. That’s the Tids web presence in case you didn’t know.

Well folks, I think I’ll just go into a quiet corner and burst out laughing! :oD, and drown out the politics.

The Parking Lot:

This morning I’m back in the late 1600’s. you’ll be introduced to two key characters at a time when there are rumblings of the now famous King Phillips Wars. During the Wars, one of our heroes Richard Hicks father of Jeremiah worked with his friend Joseph third son of Massasoit and brother of King Phillip, to help him survive the irrational wrath of Plymouth plantation elders during the wars. Joseph was fully grateful, and Richard was rewarded with much of the lands he and his family owns today.

Today’s episode:

  Jeremiah Hicks rode his large brown horse southeast from his father’s lands through the well traveled trails of western Plymouth Colony, which was comprised of today’s Bristol, Warren, Tiverton and Little Compton RI. Jeremiah, now a strong 15 years of age was comfortable in these Indian territories, as he had been taught well by his father Richard, who learned as a boy from Squanto.

   On the way south the day in August of 1671 to the Wampanoag summer settlement of Fogland in Tiverton on the big bay named Sakonnet, Jeremiah was dreaming of the beautiful daughter of the third son of Massasoit. As he neared, several of the tribe were seen walking, and all acknowledge him, as a friend of the tribe. His father was certainly respected as a trader and their lands grew as the Indians gained trust. The family’s biggest problem now was the elders back in the Plymouth Colony who were placing more restrictions on their Indian “friends”.

   Just over the hill, he came upon the temporary housing of the tribe nestled below the rich fertile hills of Tiverton and the bountiful waters of the bay. He was admiring the peaceful, yet energetic scene when he heard what he was hoping for, “Jeremiah, Jerimiah!” He turned to see the dark haired, graceful Masetta, who like most of Massasoiett’s tribe had Anglicized names too. She was Elizabeth, and his beautiful Elizabeth was running towards him smiling. His young heart started pounding and he felt a warm glow. He looked around to see if red face of the white man was noticed. Within seconds he was swinging himself off the horse and running towards her. But, like always he stopped short of enveloping her in his arms, as the curious and conservative elders looked their way. The two were eager but now all they could do was look deeply into each other’s eyes.

Jermiah stood there for a moment touching Masetta, feeling her nearness only with the emotions he was having trouble restraining. They wanted to touch, maybe fingertips, but mothers were watching. The Wampanoag tribe was a matrilineal society, where women controlled land and trading. Where first homes of newlyweds were always within the homes of the mothers.

    And of course, even though well known, and apparently liked by the sachems and the leaders of the tribe, Jermiah was an Englishman. Increasingly in Wampanoag locations, the distrust between the natives and the Plymouth colonists was increasing. This was especially true Northeast of here in Mount Hope where a relative of Massetta, King Phillip the second son of Massasoiet, was exerting a new authority over the region. Phillip’s real name was Metacom, but like Elizabeth/Masetta, many Wampanoag were given English names because of Squanto’s influence after his experience in England.

    The two young people now turned, briefly touching shoulders, further stoking the rising heat. They walked silence still under the scrutiny of the women, who now were back to their chores, but not with blind eyes. “Let’s ride south to the river,” he said in a whisper. Masetta looked back after they had walked behind a home, and answered yes with a squeeze of his hand. He grasped her soft fingers, wanted to turn and hold her. But he restrained himself which only fueled his growing warmth.

   “Soon,” she said knowing of her lover’s desire, and her own. She left him to get her own horse and make excuses to the woman, not for going off with the white boy, but because she would be missing her work. Strangely she thought, the woman appeared agreeable, though their faces remained stoic as their hands busily prepared foods for winter storage.

The youthful couple was barely out of sight from the tribal summer camp, when they brought their horses to a halt, and leaned towards each other to kiss. The kiss lingered, longer than usual. They were still at the point where they were nervous about all seeing elders who could be anywhere at any point, But their hunger for each other was growing. This long kiss was their first reckless act.

  Their lips parted, but their eyes didn’t. Finally Masetta spoke.

  “You are quiet today, Jeremiah, is something wrong?”

  He paused for a while and she looked at him, lovingly, patiently. “It’s you, Elizabeth, I can’t stop thinking of you. All my days I think of you. When I sleep I dream of you.” He stopped and looked at her beauty, her small body that was so perfect to him. “Yet when I’m with you now, I don’t what to say, because my words will not be good enough, be beautiful enough as you. Be as perfect as they should for a moment like this”

   She laughed and reached up an grasped his hands. “You are so silly Jeremiah. We can just live for each other, and not say a word, and we will understand.”

  Her words just like her being thrilled Jeremiah. The mood was wonderful for them, but just as he started to dismount, they both turned to see the cause of the rush of noise behind them.

   Jeremiah Hicks grabbed the reins of both horses now startled by two Wampanoag men riding hard up the trail towards camp. The bronze muscular bodies of the two were tense as they pushed their horses. Sweat ran across their faces, eyes focused. Lips taunt. Jeremiah looked up at Elizabeth who’s face now mirrored the intensity of the riders. Gone was her lively smile and bright eyes for him. Without a word, she surprised him, pulling the reins away from his hands and turning her horse to follow. Jeremiah only felt sorry for himself for a few seconds before placing a foot in the stirrup and hoisting himself to the saddle. He smacked his horse and began the chase.

   As he neared the camp area he heard shouting and saw men and woman running towards the two riders, who were sitting now on their horses, breathing heavily. He searched for Elizabeth, but could not see her in the crowd. He halted his horse at the edge of the village, and watched, mainly for Elizabeth, but also out of caution. He felt a sense of danger, in a place where he had always been welcome. He saw several of the women turning their heads to look at him. He backed up his horse. He knew the language, but not well enough to gather what was being said through the shouting.

   The noise subsided, and through the parting crowd he saw his beautiful Elizabeth walking with her father Joseph, the Sachem of the tribe. All eyes now turned towards the center. Jeremiah’s were on Elizabeth but her’s were focused like her father’s. Now Jeremiah felt fear in his young heart. He moved his horse back into the shadows.

There was deep concern across the faces of the tribe as they listened to the words of Elizabeth’s father. Jerremiah, now deep into the shadows of the darkening forest, heard words like “White intruders”; “More restrictions on the Tribes, Take away their weapons”; “Time to rise against the white settlers.” “King Phillip is angry”.

   Richard searched the crowd trying to connect with Elizabeth’s eyes. She would guide him, wouldn’t she? His father and family have worked well with the Wampanoags. They would be safe and life would continue. Richard who lived in this rugged world like a man was having trepidations and concerns of a boy. 

   Murmuring began among the people. The hum grew louder. He noticed heads turning to look beyond the camp. He felt shielded but knew the tribes people saw all. They were part of the forests and the fields to the sea. Richard alit from his horse to make his profile smaller. Why am I doing this he thought? These are my friends. Elizabeth is my love. Richard had a sixth sense too, and it told him to move away and get to his father and family. He began walking down the heavily foliaged path. The horse following, the hoofbeats sounding to him like the pounding of corn into meal. He thought he heard something, and stopped. Motionless.

   “Richard,” came a whispering plea. He looked to see Elizabeth walking though a space between mountain laurel. He smiled and moved quickly towards her, but her face was rigid with determination. He took a step, but stopped when the powerful figure of her father loomed behind her.