Title 42

The End of Title 42: What does it mean? Is it relevant, or is it too late? 

Before I explain, you should know, that at one time, I was a fan of democrats before I knew what a democrat was.  

You see, in reply to a friendly letter I sent to the president of the United States, I received an envelope from the White House with photos of President John F. Kennedy, and Jackie with young Caroline and little John Jr. at her lap. 

(I still have the photos, someplace!)

Fast forward through sixty years: Any friend of JFK was a friend of mine. I was naive and trusting, but I wasn’t always true blue.  While I re-acclimated to America after fifteen years in Asia, I wondered, “What the hell is going on?” The American Way eroded with a dilution to our nature. Morals, values, and responsibility faded from too many.  We needed a change, and it would be have to be drastic.  In 2016, Hillary was a part of the problem and Trump was a bit over the top. I wrote in Senator Jeff Flake, R-AZ.

My write-in was a wash-out, and the democratic leaders revealed themselves. I believe JFK would be ashamed of his party, and he past six years are history. But who will write that history?  Will the American Way recover, or will we watch the decline of democracy?

The Mother of all Agendas 

By: Mike Rinowski

 

To our great nation

JFK gave a creed,

which leaders on the Left

want all to mis-read,

“What will America do for me?”

 

The American Way

that built this land,

they want to change,

and for eternity,

hold the upper hand.

 

A lot of rain

on their parade it fell,

from the last administration

it’s easy to tell.

 

A change of weather 

has long been their plan,

to get more people 

onto our land.

 

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

they shout to the world,

our border is porous

just remember to vote for us.

 

There’ll be no demands

for your idle hands,

they’ll take care of you,

and your cousins, too.

 

Deep into your life 

you’ll feel their reach,

and to your children,

it’s their truth to teach. 

 

Less and less

our laws apply,

if you commit a crime

you’ll get a bye.

 

However, beware, I say

for an address you list,

your neighbor may be 

a domestic terrorist.

 

Entitlements will grow 

from taxes they lift higher,

but when billionaires amend,

it’s at our doors for more,

their search will end.

 

The American Way

once strived for with pride,

will swiftly erode

like a falling tide.

 

Our nature once admired

around the globe,

will be diluted

by a count untold.

 

If their self-proclaimed 

socio-superiority

confuses you,

don’t do a thing 

until they say to.

 

The bed they share 

with the media is not fair,

it would have Walter Cronkite,

and Walt Disney,

pulling out their hair.

 

Those who toil

to make America great,

will be illegally outnumbered

to seal our fate.

 

Cards and ID’s will be given

to millions of illegals—and their kin,

******but paper doesn’t make them

*******************an American.

 

With those people

I have no beef,

it’s all those leaders 

who resemble a thief.

 

***I say, the first generation

********to grasp that paper, 

*********not have the right

*********to cast their favor.

 

Since the American Revolution

over three million gave,

if they knew of all this

they’d turn over in their grave.

 

Brave men and women

lived and died by a creed,

from who the Left 

used to be.

 

“Ask what you can do 

for your country,”

was the intent of President: 

John F. Kennedy – Democrat.

 

The Progressive Soul

By: Mike Rinowski

 

Give me liberty

or give me death,

is not a battle cry

from Leaders on the Left.

 

Their time of strength

has fallen woke and meek,

both friends and foes 

now see us as weak.

 

The power they wield

is a sinful act,

its morals and values 

they do lack.

 

Our founding Fathers

gave us the plan,

under one God

we are to stand.

 

But with their right hand

leaders now take an oath,

without recognition

to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

 

The Party comes first

at any cost,

and with that 

our freedom is lost.

 

A facade of compassion

shadows their greed,

there’s a lack of citizens

for the votes they need.

 

Sanctity and sovereignty

are not in their plans,

votes they’ll import

from distant lands.

 

With those votes

comes burden and crime,

with more to follow 

all the time.

 

To St. Floyd of fentanyl

they extended their praise,

but for 13 slain heroes

they had nothing to say.

I’m an American, happy to be in America.

You see, for twelve years, I lived in three communist/socialist countries, and one on the edge of anarchy. It takes generations for the nature of a people to change, and I was thrilled to join in the evolution of a free-spirited nature in Viet Nam, more than in China or Laos. Sadly, such an evolution in Kashmir has been suppressed for decades.

I crossed many borders during my fifteen years in Asia, and in most countries, people commented with a bit of cheer, or envy, about the freedoms we have in America. The Vietnamese, in particular, admired the American Way and followed the lead of our nature.

You see, Viet Nam’s history reaches back to the time B.C., when their nature was dictated by threats from occupation, feudal wars, colonial repression, and the American war; followed by a corrupt reunification, and finally, rebirth. In contrast, America’s short history began with the Revolutionary War; followed by a broad westward expansion of people with grit, who built the greatest nation on earth. To sustain our brief existence, and that of others, over three million men and women lived and died by creeds, such as: “Give me liberty, or give me death”, and “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

Late on a quest across that mystical and sacred land, with occassional curiosity about the depth and disparity of our natures, I was enlightened to the God particle of the American soul; something with greater definition to me as time passes; something missing, or fading, from the lives of too many people within our borders. 

Now, I’m going to entertain you with a story. It’s about an obligation many of you would have felt the same.

“An Ode to My Boys”,

was a funny little ditty I wrote last year.

It’s now a full length poem 

with a message to hear.

I call it: 

Essence

By: Mike Rinowski

 

It’s been a good year

I said with cheer.

 

To the north and south

west and east,

my Boys beat with the heart of a beast.

 

I looked to each with pride

as I would to a bride,

but spoke words neither wanted to hear.

 

Our season has gone

last tracks have been laid, 

I sadly said.

 

You, whose miles are few, my ’98,

with my battle-scarred ’08,

the time has come to hibernate.

 

While frigid winds blow

and trails cover with snow,

I’ll tend to your needs

for another season you’ll roll.

 

And in a blink,

winter’s chill will shrink,

and in May I’ll call

the ’08 to make

another ride to The Wall.

*******

Once upon a time, you see,

its tires laid tracks, 

to honor our fallen 

on the land they saw last.

 

My boots on the ground

they had not been,

nor those of friends

nor any kin.

I was just—an American.

 

From one job to another

I landed in Hanoi,

and with shady arrangements 

imported a Fat Boy.

 

No Harley had been

on trails like mine,

with beauty and welcome

at a peaceful time.

 

The solitude of jungle

was a powerful sensation,

on a war-torn land

now a young nation.

 

A threshold was crossed

where I felt a bond,

and the spirits were quick

to respond.

 

NOBODY rode alone,

it was said.

I became nobody 

with over 58,000 instead.

 

Fearless we were

on my iron beast,

made in America

to say the least.

 

With innocent and noble intent,

no judge of events,

I laid tracks

with a playful vengeance.

 

I taunted trails and elements

with a fist in the air,

and some situations

just weren’t fair!

 

In the spirit of freedom

for them I did ride,

with a handful of throttle

and a heart full of pride. 

 

Beside my trails 

remains did wait,

while their spirits looked down

 from the Pearly Gate.

 

The hell they all passed through

I imagined with tears,

but later to them 

raised Ba Muoi Ba beers.

 

On the land they did battle,

some would say-

their cause was not lost,

in slid shades

of the American Way.

 

Within its borders

our colors are bold,

in fashion or flag

and our nature takes hold.

 

From the tip to the top

41,000 miles I rode,

with the spirits of young men

it was a ride to behold.

 

The wind in my face

blew caution astray.

I was Viet Nam’s luckiest rider

everyday.

*******

With asphalt this year

the ’08’s tires will rhyme,

as they have now

for nine years’ time.

 

My word was given,

and rightly so,

when I’m done with the bike

to The Wall it will go.

 

For those yet to come

I hope they will see,

as an example of many

one acted—naturally.

 

In my life came a quest

you would attest,

to follow a path

truly blessed.

 

What it was for

I thought I knew,

but followed faith

to awareness anew.

 

One if by land, two if by sea,

since the ride of Revere 

grew our essence so pure,

that of a free-spirited 

and patriotic nature.

 

We have freedoms galore

that many adore,

but there’s an old saying, you see,

that nothing is free.

 

To those who gave all

—from that fateful ride

to the latest fall—

we have a debt,

to live responsibly

and never forget.

 

The morals, values, and excitement

they cherished in life,

must be in ours, too,

to honor them true.

 

That, is the American Way

***

Thank You 

&

 Welcome Home

The Boys

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I reached a point of excitement in preparation for the 2021 Donnie Smith Bike Show, but three days before opening, I received notice it had been postponed; due to insurmountable regulations due to Covid fukin 19.

Both the Boys were polished and lookin good for a magnificent presentation.

 

December 2019

Snow covers the Land of 10,000 Lakes (Minnesota), and consequently, the riding season is over. But another great season it was; riding for those who can’t. Like many in the north country, I’ve torn the Fat Boy down to the engine and frame for minor repairs and clean up in preparation for the bike shows in Feb and Mar.

(My annual May ride on the NVAR was another success. Mpls to Sacramento to D.C. and back to visit veterans in homes and hospitals on the 10 ride, CA to D.C. was another emotional roller coaster. Then in July, I rode down to AZ to my Brother Mike’s, whom I met in Vietnam, and write about in my book. We had rode coast to coast, and in July we rode border to border for those who never had the chance. Hwy 191 is an All American byway with National Parks, Forests, Monument, deserts, and mountain passes.)

I’m learning more about the literary world, and it’s tough for a naive indie author, but I have a great review from Kirkus. They’re not cheap, but their reviews are unbiased and recognized by many book buyers and readers. It goes well in support of the many readers comments posted on that page, along with comments in conversation with readers across the land. Check it out.

I’ll have more news in the New Year, so please check back.

In the meantime, I wish all a Merry Christmas with many Blessings, and a Happy and Healthy New Year.

As you celebrate the season, remember those who sacrificed, and continue to sacrifice, for us; the fallen veterans, those now serving, and all of their families.

Thank you & Never Forget