Just saw a disturbing video. Man stopped for speeding. 65 in 55. Argued with cop that he had cruise control set at 54. It happened to myself. Twice. Got ticket for too slow on I-75 in Naples. A 10,000 hour airplane driver does not need the speedometer to know how fast he was going. A rock steady 55. Cop put 44 on ticket. Happened again in Vero Beach. Cop claimed speeding. Not even close to being over on US One. Cars were flying by me. Could there be another side to this picture. I grew up in Nazi Germany. We don’t want that here Although America is now on it’s way to getting there. We also know the police have their hands tied. Could it be there was something suspicious about me or my car. A little Chevy GEO Metro. Are they allowed to tell me they don’t like my looks. Maybe saying I was speeding is all they can can say when they really had something else on their minds. If they snatch just one criminal monster like our latest American hero, Mister Floyd, or even better, a wraghead terrorist, thanks to their inherent suspicions, I will take all the speeding tickets they can throw at me. Nothing to theorize about. It’s already happened. It’s how a suspicious cop stopped people like Timothy McVeigh. How many Americans know that every year between the police and FBI there are over 3000 violent acts stopped before being able to be carried out. Why does Floyd get all the attention and not a word spoken about all the lives saved by the police, including the ones that would have been undoubtedly lost had Floyd got away and lived. There is nothing to guess about a violent man who can stick a gun into a pregnant woman’s bulge during a house burglary. To begin with, there would not be one ounce of trouble in America if people were merely civilized enough to show a little respect and not argue with the police. Had the gentleman who set his cruise control not been a wiseass, the cop would probably have just said; “don’t speed any more pardner, have a nice day” once their suspicions were allayed. May I leave a thought with the people unhappy with the police. There is no noise allowed in Germany. For one example: transit bus tires are even engineered to produce no road sound. Do not raise a voice or talk loud in Germany. I shouted at a cashier in a super market. Within seconds the police pounced on me. I have been evicted out of Germany twice. I did not raise my voice. Certainly knew better. I spoke in the most dignified polite manner possible. My crime began with a taillight out on a boat trailer. All I did is assure the cop I would fix it. Too late. I was supposed to check that before getting on the road. Sound bazar? Their accident rate, per capita, despite having no speed limits, is 7% of ours. But then, stupidly, I had to run my mouth: “Sir, this would never happen in America.” Not a good thing to say in Germany. I was driven to the airport. Upon telling the cop I had no money for a ticket out, he merely said; “doesn’t matter, call someone with a credit card. if you are still here after the next plane out has left, not to America, does not matter to where, you will then really have a problem.” A normal halfway intelligent person would learn the first time. It happened again a year or two later to this lunkhead. Might sound harsh. There are no protestors, rioters, no stores being burned down. There is no crime. Period. At least not until the Muslims began to arrive. Which Germany and ten other countries are now kicking out. I have a condo in downtown Vienna where I live part of the year. Lost the key to it 25 yrs. ago. Never bothered to change the lock. No one else locks their door either. When I return, nothing will have been touched. No crack head infestation, as happened in every house in America I have returned to. Their way works a lot better than ours.
There is now a long enough record of a certain racial minority group subverting our legal system and making a mockery of American values and ideals the country was founded on by rioting, burning, destroying property and killing people. Is there any doubt OJ did it? Why did it take so long for the videos of a drugged up out of control maniac monster Rodney King to surface. The only part shown by the media was the police subduing him. Who did not see the footage of an unfortunate truck driver being ripped out of his cab and beaten to near death. These just a couple of the cases where billions of dollars in destruction resulted and in one riot alone, fifty people killed. All over a worthless discusting person. And now, a decent family man, who risked his life every day protecting everyone, is rotting in jail because of someone with a long criminal history who on a house burglary put a gun to a pregnant woman’s stomach. When a journalist interviewed a thirty year old minority woman on the street, she scowled; “he did not disserve to die because he had a little weed!” He had a lot more than a little weed and a much more powerful mind altering drug. Anyone seeing him when the police spoke to him in the car could see that much. When asked if destroying hard working people’s business was worth the revenge she sulked; “they disserved it! Besides, they have insurance, they will only make money.” Virtually all insurance policies have a clause: not covered if fire is caused by riot or arson. What an attitude in this filthy young woman. Is it any wonder such people are so hated. Where is the justice in this picture they scream so much about. Where is the silent majority that allows this horror to continue? When will come a time when the majority puts an end to it. To think this could all be prevented if everyone merely behaved in a civilized manner. Where does anyone get the idea they can fight with the police. No matter what their hatred or excuse. Only arguing with the police is over the line and should be the end of the story. Immediately arrested and thrown in jail until they come to their senses and behave. Court is the place to iron out any differences, not the street. That’s all it would take to end the madness that is infecting our country. Just show a little respect for the police.
Are we going to do a little repairing or are we going to continue arguing and fighting until we get into a civil war? The outcome of which there will be no doubt. In the last one, the wrong side was tough, led by brillient military men. Despite being out monied by 97% they almost won. Won’t be the case this time. I live in a tropical Florida swamp, moving up from Miami. The only city mouse surrounded by swamp rats. When I see an alligator I freeze. Start shaking and pee my pants. The guys I know jump into the river and grab an alligator with their bare hands. Highly illegal. A felony in fact. Like they care. Anyone the guy at the end of my street gets mad at would die of fright by merely him snarling at them. He had a nice big fifth wheel camper trailer I liked but did not at that moment want to spend the cash on. “Eh” he said simply, “if you like it, gimme a hundred a month”. Our entire discussion. He brought me the trailer. Every month I’d trot down to lay a c-note on his porch. On the month I caught him, expecting to pay another two years, I nearly fell over. “You were paid off two months ago” he informed me. How would I know. We never discussed the purchase price. Those kind of people are the real Americans. Where in a democrat area would it be possible to lay a hundred dollar bill on someone’s porch. Anyone who imagines taking the Hillbillies land, culture or guns away is in some kind of dreamland. Opposite the Rednecks and Cowboys are people who know nothing more than B&E, selling drugs and sticking their hands into Uncle Sam’s bread basket. It gets worse. I You Tubed: Woman cop beaten by a thug in front of his daughter. About as sickening as anything I have ever seen. At least it was a relief to learn the cop survived. Albeit with permanent damage she will need to live with the rest of her life. Where was the outrage about that one? I’ve not heard one word in the media or from any of the race pimps about it. How are we going to fix things if we cannot acknowledge we have a problem, unable to do nothing other than protest and riot. Were there such a thug in my neighborhood, who beat up anyone in such a manner, never mind a woman, there would be no law or cops needed. He would become a snack for an alligator. I highly doubt any of the good Black people, and they are the majority, sadly, the few bad ones giving the rest a bad image, did anything about this thug. They need to do something about the bad ones, the Floyds and Rodney Kings and quit using slavery as an excuse. When I came to America at 15 yrs. old I was severely beaten and called a Nazi every single week. One time hung on the side of a garage. Had my older cousin, Alfred Denda, not come looking for me when I did not show up at curfew time and cut me down Id not be here. So I do know a little about prejudice. But mine is nothing compared to what the Chinese, Jews, Irish and Italians had to endure. I personally saw signs in Boston store windows that read; ‘Help wanted, Irish need not apply’. I have yet, in all those years, to hear a single person in all those groups, including my own, say one word about any of it. They all just dug in, worked harder and made something of themselves. My best example is a Chinese woman in Miami who escaped Mao’s collective. I know her personally. Everyone in Miami knows her. She’s a billionaire. Never heard one word out of her to complain about what she went through. Anyone doubting me can call the best A/C man in Florida, Lenny Newman, whose skin color happens to be Black but otherwise a real American, who I met the lady through. When my family arrived, we owed $75 to a sponsor. My father, a Bavarian peasant, due to having the lowest class name, not allowed to attend school or own so much as a cow, is there anything similar to that to stop someone in America from getting ahead? The first paying job of his life in the Queens Mid Town tunnel, at have the going minimum wage. Within three years of hitting American shores, he was financially independent, 10 yrs. a millionaire. Anyone not believing can look up public records. John and Gertrude Bauer to see millions in property deeds. Just John Bauer is me. I did not trust my wife. By age 18 I had two million dollars worth of property. Not one penny of which came from Father. There is no secret to it. It’s just what happens when someone does not consider cigarettes’, booze and jacked up rented car rims more important than putting a money making machine together. It happened with me, I had no childhood. Never went to a single school dance or sport game. All I did is work. Even on Christmas day. Needless to say I can find no sympathy for all the crybabies and people moaning about being discriminated against. Will need to admit. We did get one lucky break. No one knocked on our door to inform us they were from the government there to help us not live in the poverty we were. There is the first repair job needed. the government. All government programs only encourage more dereliction. Of course, it’s done deliberately to get votes. If anyone is interested I’d like to add a little. By 18 I owned two waterfront properties. one in the Blue water shores section of Falmouth Mass. I paid no cash for either one. I worked them off with the developers. Just a little extra work above my regular job. America, the most unique country in the world, where it is not brains or hard work that makes money. In America it’s money that makes money. On the corner of Jones Rd. And Palmer Avenue in Falmouth Mass. where a bank sits today, my father bought the property for $5000. All thanks to being a conservative with no addictions, he had the cash. Three years later, he sold that land for $650,000. He did even better flipping apartment houses. So, was it his hard work that did it or was it America that did it for him. All anyone needs to do is give America the slightest initiative. America does the rest. My father, an uneducated peasant, not born in America. But he knew who paid for his freedom. I have at least ten names by memory of servicemen he sold houses to. It was their lucky day if they came to look at a house wearing military uniform. He sold one house to a Guardsman named Carl Josephson with 50 cents down. No paperwork. No contract. No nothing, with the deal: “make it any payment you want, any time you have a bad month or a few, skip those months, pick up again when you get going. A R/E aagent named Bill Jenks brought a customer, named Huck Spory. The moment Father saw his uniform, he dropped the price $30,000. Spory backed out, telling Jenks there is something wrong with the house. Jenks came, threatened my father for his commission. Father reached in his pocket and gave Jenks the commission, despite him not closing the deal. Selling houses to military men is when Father became super rich. That’s where the money is. Holding mortgages. With a banker like my Father, what customer is going to welsh on a payment or cause any problems. Despite the most unbelievable deals to Military people, he had so much coming in with payments, he needed to build a house a month to get rid of the money. Perhaps it really does pay to be nice. And we have people among us, born and raised in America, that despise the military, want to harm and not pay the police that make their rabid life possible. I got married at 16. To a woman who hated the Air Force. Causing our biggest problem. The only woman I ever beat up. She insulted my Air Base. When I run into such people it takes all the control I can muster not to lose it. If they do not wake up on their own and repair their demented sick minds, and realize what fortunes they are throwing away, what opportunities they are letting slip away, what should we do? I don’t have the answer. I’m asking.
going up a steep hill on route 28 in E. Falmouth Mass. The car behind me floored it to pass. Coming over the top, a car driven by a mother with two young children in it. All three instantly dead. A cop named Paulie Gonsalves broke a finger pulling me off the drunk driver, intent on beating him to within a half inch of his life. At least I got to the one inch mark. A doctor friend of mine vehemently condones drug addiction and alcoholism as a disease. Tell that to the young mother and two kids who would now be in their 40’s. We don’t need to see You Tube and Facebook to watch endless video’s of police chases. What is a cop supposed to do when someone doesn’t stop? Let him go so it will inspire other nuts to kill a mother and two kids. I have had endless legal troubles of my own. Been in jail a half dozen times. The most recent one in Vero Beach where the police found a $110 ticket on me from 1976. A ticket for driving too slow on I-75 in Naples. The result costing me no less than $20,000. That we have a broken legal system there is no doubt. Most of my court time involved Real Estate. For one example, I had two completely identical cases. Won one. Lost the other. The outcome of all cases depends on which lawyer can out lie the other. A hilarious one for me was my witness lying through his teeth. If I get any interest, I will describe my amusing courtroom experiences. Now it is my turn to be sad. A young man who risked his life every day to protect us from criminals, rotting in jail because of a low life worthless piece of garbage who had a bad criminal record. That alone makes it automatic. There is nothing to discuss. The second guessers and holy pious blowhards need to see the wrong end of a gun sometime. Fight, argue, threaten the cops, expect the worst. This has been going on for a long time. It took twenty years for the video’s of a drugged up out of control monster Rodney King just before the cops wailed him, to surface. What good is our legal system if a jury can be intimidated by rioters. It’s time for the rest of us to riot against the rioters and wipe them out.
On the world’s standard of living scale, we are now number 27 ad falling. From anyone I mention that statistic to this is generally the response: “Awe you are full of crap, you believe everything you hear” We as individuals or us as a nation cannot fix anything if we refuse to acknowledge we have a problem. In 1950 the US was solidly in the number one spot. How did we plummet so badly and now going down like a free falling safe. As a woman in Miami went to get in her car, that had a baby in it, a gentleman came from behind, shoved her in, raped her, shot her dead and drove away. Somewhere on Alligator Alley a police car got behind him. He floored it. The baby began crying. At a hundred mile an hour speed, with the police car dash camera on him, he threw the baby out the window. When at the trial, a relative of his brought him a big gulp from McDonalds, in it a small hand gun. He snatched a woman hostage with the gun to her head. As they came down the elevator in the courthouse, a police sharp shooter waited. As the elevator door opened, the gentleman had a bullet go in between his eyes. He had already killed one woman, tossed a baby out the window, what chance was there of this hostage living. Did she get on her knees and offer the cop a little oral gratitude. She sued the county, claiming the police did not need to shoot the gentleman which so traumatized her. Given our broken legal system, Dade county gave her a million dollars rather than go through a more costly trial. How much is the George Floyd trial costing. How much money has the government already given his heirs. Millions. When discussing this with a medical doctor friend of mine, who also happens to be a left wing Democrat loon, he shouted back: “You don’t know what you are talking about, he was caught with a counterfeit twenty dollar bill!!” OK. Let us accept that. His criminal record all made up by the evil Republicans. Although, a little difficult to understand how previous trials and court records can be so easily fabricated. In all this arguing, there is only one small detail that matters. We do have something of a legal system left. Whatever the dispute, no matter with whom, we can get in front of a judge. What excuse does anyone have to run or fight with the police. So my friend, perhaps no longer after getting this question, Doctor Campbell, what would you rather; take the chance of a young cop, who risks his life every day for us, going home to his wife and a couple young kids, in a coffin, or for such nice refined gentlemen as the Miami hood and Mister Floyd getting an immediate bullet between the eyes. Would not require very many of them before the rest of those types will think twice about arguing with the police. I happened to be in the same house with the Doctor during the Floyd trial, that he had so rudely blaring. I overheard a spot where a cop was asked to describe his background. He talked about working undercover in an LA school district where there are from one hundred to one hundred and fifty homicides a year. Let us assume our number 27 ranking is an outright lie. I travel more than the average person. Have been a wandering nomad since age 14. I don’t need any list to know the difference. The country I talk most about when making comparisons, only for being most familiar with it, is not even number one, but number 6. Germany. I own a condo in Vienna. A most beautiful, well kept, organized, completely safe city. No crime at all. I don’t bother locking my door. No one else does either. Nothing remotely close to the crime situation that has developed in America can happen over there. Not in the thirty years I live there part of the year, have I so much as heard abut any kind of crime. Crime, looting, rioting, is very expensive. Taxes on my Miami house, just a small Florida block bungalow in the Naranja section, $5,280 a year. A friend in the Pinecrest section pays $120,000 a year in taxes. No real estate taxes in Vienna. That’s one of the reasons Germans and Austrians have the money to make their houses works of art. No such thing there, with the exception of East Berlin, as a boarded up foreclosed or fix upper house, No Ghetto. No where in the city is it unsafe to walk through at any hour of the day or night. There are no county commissioners or any politician, in any municipality, right up to the President, who has any authority to spend any money. The Germans watch every penny the government spends and demand accounting for everything. The Germans had to learn their lessons in the most difficult way possible. Let’s hope the Americans won’t need to learn the same lessons. And right now, America is doing everything the Germans did at the turn of the century. Would it not be worth merely stopping our downhill slide to wake up for? The crime problem is only one of the issues destroying our quality of life. Prompting this rant were the couple Floyd segments I overheard. There is not one single cop in America who was raised in America, who went to an American high school, that is a Nazi type sadist. Are there some whose authority has gone to their heads and push their weight around. Of course. Myself being an incorrigible renegade non conformist, has a long record of getting into conflicts with the police. Tossed into jail maybe ten times, My latest, just a year ago in Very Beach Florida. Costing me more than $20,000 over a $110 traffic ticket I refused to pay. Yet, even I, a simple Simon, rather short on brains, can understand no cop should need to go through what I heard on TV. No one is perfect. Why should the police need to be. All the holier than thou do gooders and Monday morning quarterbacks have accomplished is lower our standard of living and made our society infinitely more dangerous. A little amusing now to see the Blacks, the most vocal people against the police, begging the police to come back into their neighborhoods. All this endless bantering, microscopic analyzing of every word and action, convoluted nonsense is pathetic. Why should a cop, risking his life every day, to protect us, need to be a lawyer, when there is nothing more simple in our society. When confronted by a cop, don’t run. And when caught up with, don’t argue and get into a fight. Why should a cop at that point need to risk getting killed. Should it not be obvious that is an automatic given. I have seen many videos of savages, Floyd being just one of many, who do not understand such simple logic. The one I still have nightmares over is the big rugged Black guy beating a small lady cop. He did not just knock her down, he kept beating her to a pulp as his own daughter kept crying and yelling; “Daddy, Daddy, please stop” If anyone knows the outcome of that incident and if the woman survived, as I was thinking during the argument on the video; ‘please baby, say no more, whip out your gun’ I’d certainly appreciate hearing it. I have tried to find something about it on Google. No doubt censored and taken down.
There are several ways to guess that a person is a drug addict. One clue is someone railing a little too much against drugs. Chances are he’s a druggie. For about a year I’d frequently see an elderly gentleman in places like McDonalds. It became a little noticeable that every time someone approached he’d only nod and mumble a barely audible ‘hello.’ He also has a rather sinister look about him. On the tall side. Thin. Must have been in good shape when younger. The appearance sparked my nosey nature. It took a year of engaging him in simple conversations to discover that indeed there is a lot more to him than what it appears. His field: Intelligence. A spy. Not the government kind spying on other countries. Big companies hired him to learn secrets in competing companies. He had many interesting stories to tell from all over the world. Philippines, China, Singapore, Indonesia, Russia, Middle East and Germany. He had a sidekick with him most of the time. He seemed to ignore the gentleman. Not once seeing them in engaged in any conversation. The sidekick turned out to be his son-in-law, a licensed practicing medical doctor. Has anyone known a doctor whose handwriting can be read. Does this arrogance develop from the prestigious class level. Anyone who thinks so better not go to Germany, where a school teacher garners more respect than a doctor gets in America. And a doctor over there is God. Questioning, getting a second opinion, or suing a doctor is not possible in German. For arrogance, a completely self centered manner, certain the whole world revolves around him, the spy’s doctor holds the number one spot. Anyone in the family he visits, within minutes of sitting down on a couch, he empties his bag, looking for things, the living room begins looking like a trash dump. That not bad enough, he does not just ask others to pick things up, he demands it. With no preamble like; “could you pick that up for me?” He says; “Pick that up for me!” with a very bombastic, “Please!!” Which makes his request even worse. Needless to say, he’s not a very welcome visitor anywhere. It’s probably a little expensive to be so self consumed and messy. Not being friendly enough with any of the family members, it’s only a guess that maybe his manner might have something to do with his obvious bad financial condition. In terrible financial condition myself one time, I needed to find a job. Seeing a Lear jet taxi in would ordinarily not make me take a second look. Until seeing the right seat in the front office empty. I sauntered over. Asking only; “are you solo?” An airplane person does not need to hear any words to know the level of experience in another airplane nut. Where and how someone walks on the field is enough. The pilot answered; “yeah, we’re looking for a right seat, you typed in Lear?” “No Sir, Hansa.” The Lear winds up belonging to a house builder in Tennessee named Denny Hastings. I met a gentleman by the name of Eddie Mathews, who inherited thirteen and a half million dollars. He apparently got a little ping from my blond bombshell girlfriend sporting a set of forty four double D magnums. She explained that her boyfriend was looking to buy a piece of land to build a shop on to make airplane parts. “Well, y’all jes c’mon ova ta mah place, ah got three hundred fifty acres, set up right there.” Mister Mathews assured me on a stack of bibles the family farm would never be sold. So little five foot one Eva and I built a hanger two hundred feet long with a clear span of sixty two feet. To this day, not a single builder, no matter how experienced, has guessed correctly how her and I put those trusses up with no machinery or helper. The runway proved to be an even bigger project than the hanger. Not to mention me spending all the money I had. Just getting started producing Piper PA-12 fuselages when everything went south. I’d not believe it had I not lived through it. Hardly seems possible that anyone would be able to go through thirteen million in three years no matter how deep into drugs. But he did. Lost everything, along with it, so did I. Wound up working for Mister Hastings. Becoming friends with a gentleman of his caliber almost worth losing everything for. For openers, he spent an immediate $50,000 to move a building onto his ranch for Eva and I to live in with not one word spoken about rent or any of the costs. His is a very interesting success story. He began as a high school history teacher. Upon meeting his parent, it became obvious the man did not inherit anything. completely self made. Myself being a history buff, we talked endlessly. On one ride to his mothers house to set up a new bed for her, certain he will recall this ride, I asked; “Denny, what do you attribute your success to?” This was his precise answer. “Nothing special. I had no plans. But it has always been my nature to put everyone else before myself and that has always come back to me by ten fold.”
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Just endured the most sickening scene of my life. That’s after having been around awhile, able to remember bombed city rubble and foraging through garbage cans in search of food. A white slave trader crossed my path. He hired me to drive his airplane, delivering woman to pimps around the country, from which he collected weekly royalties. When we see billboard pictures of missing young girls, there is only one of three ways it can happen: Mistreated at home and ran way. Most likely with the first boyfriend they can find. Or, my trader, Mister T, or another low life like him, spotted her. Or, Muslims yanked her off the street. On that one, I also had a personal experience with when a girl came running across a parking lot to nightclub, the ‘Speakeasy’ in Denver, yelling; “they got Cindy.” I succeeded in blocking the car from leaving the parking lot, long enough for the drunk cowboys inside to hear the girl who managed to get lose. Don’t ever radicle drunks. They are a better deterrent to human trafficking than any phony laws passed by politicians. I also put an end to Trader T’s career. like permanently. He is resting peacefully under about twenty million more tons of garbage in the Denver landfill. Never expecting nor imagining I’d wind up owning his jet airplane. So there can be some benefits to being slightly civilized. Than just now, an hour ago, I see a video of two young women, in their twenties, nicely dressed, not overly sexy, but nice and tight, on shiny black high heels, probably the crime they committed, standing on a platform, a foot high, hands tied behind their backs, a noose around their necks, tied to a pole near the ceiling. A Muslim man on either side of them, standing rigidly still, A third came into the picture, also in the Muslim frock, reading from a paper. Interesting how such demented people attempt to legitimize their evil with some phony formality. When finished reading, he bent down to grab the rope tied to the platform the girls were standing on, and yanked. Joe Stalin is quoted as saying: “When a person is murdered, it’s a terrible thing. When twenty million are, it’s only a statistic.” Guess Hitler felt the same. Two humans as opposed to twenty eight million is rather inconsequential. It still made me sick I did five seasonal working tours in the Middle East. Islam not only teaches that it is okay to murder infidels, it encourages it. I saw two Muslim men, holding a sixteen year old boy horizontally their arms around him as a third is chopping his head off with a machete. All because he said he was a Christian. On the top left hand corner of an Arab drivers license, first question, what religion? Apparently this kid did not have enough sense to write the word ‘Islam’ on the line. And Facebook gets mad at me every time I say anything about my experiences in the Middle East that is negative about Islam.
His wife Lorraine fell in love with them. Could not hug them enough and do enough for them. For the next 25 years, they sent the boys expensive Christmas presents, every single Christmas. Compare that result with a customer of mine in Miami. In the Latin culture, a male child can yell and scream and raise all the hell he wants. One such kids father made considerable money with me. I dropped him for no other reason than his unruly son making any conversation or negotiations next to impossible. In Orlando, at the Tropicana Resort, where I had 25 rental units, I met a Black lady. Unusually good looking, and very well built. But that did not influence me to rent her an apartment. She seemed quite refined. Came from Colorado. Not speaking in the usual gutter dialect. She had no car, so I volunteered to drive her wherever she needed to go. For at least a couple months. Me eventually meeting her two teenage daughters. It came as quite a surprise to hear their ghetto speech. Probably from having lived with their father. It shut me right down. Saying not one word more to them than necessary. One night they desperately needed to go somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be a hundred miles away. The mission: To pick up a boy, about twenty, they had just met a week earlier in Orlando. Him coming back to live with them. He had obviously never been in the Boy Scouts. No problem if he did not like me for being a Honkey. Upon stepping into the van, he totally ignored me. What would happen if the girls mother asked me to take him somewhere. Had he only said: “Good evening Sir.” The answer would be; ‘sure.’ It did not happen. But had it, the answer would be; ‘sorry, I’m busy.’ For the hundred mile ride return, I have the mother, two girls and the boy in back. Clowning, loud, raucous, so disturbing I almost stopped to toss them all out. Of course, after dropping them off, there was not one more mile spent on those people, the kids costing their mother her free taxi service. Of course, there is no shortage of ill mannered undisciplined children. But I do not recall a single time in Public, where I have seen a Black family, with the children jumping up and down, tearing around, tearing around, yelling nd screaming, knocking things off store shelves, with the parents not saying a word. I was on the phone with my son, when three kids came running down the stairs I was on my way up. Screaming so loudly, I could not hear the phone. I looked over and said exactly this; nothing more; “hey kids, can you keep it down a little.” Just then, their big fat mammy, looking like she would be able to tear my head off, came over the top, snarling; “don’t you dare talk to my chilens like dat!!” At that point, one of the sons, appearing to be about ten, came over and punched me in the stomach. My son heard the whole incident so I had to listen to his diatribe; “when are you going to learn to keep your mouth shut?” I did not need to be in that car that killed five people to know that the children were raising enough hell to distract the driver. The news footage showed the wide open intersection, no obstructions, no excuse for there to have a collision. So which way of raising children is better. Mine or theirs. For anyone still reading, allow one more comment. Through all my disciplinary tricks, which were very few, I not only did not raise my voice, I became even more quiet. When I hear parents yelling and screaming at their kids, I can’t help wondering what psychological problems they have. In my case for an example, when one saw his siblings going out the door, which happened to be the ‘Great Scott’ to an event he had been uninvited to, what chance is there that he would ever again do what got him barred. When in McDonalds, I see kids running around making unbearable noise, jumping from table top to table top, with the parents sitting there. One night, a woman with two unruly girls, I could not help going over: “Mam, right now, outside, there is a sight that happens every hundred years. Your daughters might be interested.” And there really was. Venus, just as bright and clear as can be. They were about to get a lesson on how to tell the difference between a star and a planet, when the mother very snotily rebuked my ploy with, “naw, they’re not interested in that stuff.” Hard to believe such a parent exists. Had it not been my experience I’d not believe it. Anyone else not believing can talk to an amature astronomer. This took place no more than two years ago. My quiet nature when in the discipline mode, was probably due to my German background. There is no noise in Germany. The only noise in a city is the little tinkling sound of a street car bell and the swoosh of air when a 300 MPH train, that makes no noise, flashes by. Quite the opposite in America when stopped at a light, with the next car over vibrating and bouncing to the RAP sounds and some cultured, refined gentleman comes into a restaurant, spotting someone he knows on the other side of the dining room, and yells, to then begin an extended conversation that makes holding a quiet conversation for all the other diners impossible. Is there a possibility that such people will wake up one day and realize whaat such behavior is costing them.
A horrific accident happened today in Orange county. Five people dead. Three in hospital fighting for their lives.
There is no such thing as an accident to begin with. The final catastrophe begins much earlier. Unfortunately, not everyone is lucky enough to receive Air Force training that teaches a student to smell a bullet coming at him.
I had four children. Or rather, the girl I married had them. We did more arguing more times than doing any sex. The children being one of the issues. Her being a religious fanatic in the JW clan, everything had to go her way, being under direct heavenly orders, resulting in getting her way about nothing. One law: ‘spare not the rod.’ I had to threaten her. If she put a hand on a child, she would get a fist in return. Me being a strict disciplinarian caused her church people to make a legal move to have the children taken away from me. They did not agree with my kind of discipline: Psychology. No rods. For a couple examples. A call came from a teacher that my son got into a fight on the bus. “Madam” I said, “I can assure you this will never happen again.” Her response; “Mister Bauer, you are the first parent to not fight and argue and threaten to have me fired.” That a bit of a sad commentary in itself. When the children addressed me, they had to stand at attention. Being fresh out of the Air Rescue Service, I described what mangled bodies look like. To his mothers howling that I would stint him psychologically for life. “How would you have felt, Mister Scott, if the bus driver got distracted because of your fight, hit a tree, and twenty kids were laying in the ditch, with brains oozing out of their skulls? In these situations, there are no second chances. The right decision must be made immediately. Since you did not have enough character to contain the dispute without getting into a stupid fight, you can no longer ride the bus. You walk to school.” His mother exploding with rain sleet and snow. “Your mother is right Mister Scott. You cannot walk. So you must run. Don’t let me come behind you to see you not running, because I do not want to be fighting with your mother if you are late.” I have never given one of them a single penny. Another contentious issue with their mother, who wanted to keep them babies, playing with toys, One of them, just one time, asked me for something. My response; “You came to the wrong place. I’m broke. But I can show you how to make the money to buy what you want.” And that was at five and six years old. When my two sons were ten and twelve, a gentleman named Adeline Moniz called to ask me to build him a house. I took the job solely for thinking it was high time for the boys to make their own living. A lot of people would like to be in the financial condition they are. Scott was the only one to give me a little bit of trouble, like the school bus incident. But nothing close to what other parents go through. His Web site: ‘Boston Shower’ He lives in a house that resembles a British Castle. He has a sales crew that go from Connecticut to the Canadian border. He spends twenty minutes, maybe a half hour sometimes, in the office. Rest of the day is in the gym. Looks like Arnold Swarzenegger. He clears for himself, on average, after all expenses, $10,000 a week. His old brother is doing even better. A three hundred million dollar Florida development. Not all his money. Has investors. But completely his operation. He has done a dozen big money projects. All made money. I came home once from overseas, to find Scott, at age 17, in the roofing business. He had a Bobcat, two trucks, nothing financed and not any money from me. I had not even heard about the roofing. I jumped into the truck, going with him to a job. On our way out, he said: “Johnny and I both agreed the old man is nuts. But he taught us how to make money.” Had to be back handed with him. Unable to just say; ‘thank you Father’ Hate to brag, my little daughter was a genius. Another call came from the school, saying there is something wrong with her. That she is a recluse. Has no friends. Just walks into the teachers room at will and begins gabbing. She also happened to be quite good looking, getting her looks from her mother, not I, and prematurely developed physically. I went to her bedroom. “Lisa” I ask, “why don’t you have any friends?” She gave me a quizzical look. “You want to come talk to the kids in my class?” No more discussion necessary. She was ten. Wife and I planned on the movies. When she called the baby sitter, I ordered her to hang up. “So we’re not going.” “Yes, just get in the car.” I knew what ruckus would be coming. Which had me snarl; “I have a daughter who has left more brains in the bathroom than your eighteen year old babysitter has.” “Than we can’t go.” “Yes, we are going. I want to see the movie. Now get in the car!!!” “If something happens” the wife screeched “it’s all on you!” “Nothing is going to happen. I can trust my little girl with my life. Now shut up and get in the car.” I can still see the daughters eyes, silently looking up at me. What little girl is going to disappoint her father that displayed so much confidence in her? We drove around to the next street, parked the car in someone’s driveway I had previously asked for permission to do so, came back through the woods, to where I had a blanket, with a cooler on it, food, snacks and drinks, able to hear every word spoken in the house. Reached up to see in the window, my daughter, like a little mother hen, her two brothers, one on each knee, reading to them. She took to my flying lessons like a duck to water. I soloed her in two hours. At the same level students in a civilian flight school get to in eighteen and twenty hours. We went to an airshow on the Base. She’s in a tight sexy dress, high heels, lipstick, earrings. She met a Lieutenant who flew the same planes I did. They began dating. Untill he discovered she’s 13. She never got pregnant. Not into any vices. And thanks to me, knew how to defend herself against any adversity. Have a little bad news for the people who want to stuff me into a Nazi gas chamber. They’ll need stand in line. I have a simple question. What is more important in a young persons life. Between ten and twenty or twenty to fifty. If someone knows by twenty what the average person learns by forty, would that not be better. I happened not to have had any childhood myself. I grew up in Germany during difficult times. We only knew work and surviving. In America at 14. In two years, making enough money to build my first mortgage free house at 16. For one reason; I got married. Recently, my son showed me a picture of a house on Google. Confused, I asked; “why are you showing me this?” “You don’t recognize it?” “No, why should I?” “You built it.” It took a minute for me to remember. That house is located on the corner of Jones Road and Bauer Lane in the town of Falmouth Massachusetts. At 16 I was developing land. A total of three small developments. Getting the land on consignment, not one dollar down, from three land owners, Charlie Botelho, Harold Moye and Eddie Anderson. Pay as I sell the houses. Until I ran into something, at about the thirtieth house stage, that made developing and building houses seem like the coffee money. SO anyone who wants to argue with me about how to raise children can try. I doubt if they can produce the results I had. On one family outing to McDonalds, my son, Scott, was not behaving as I thought he should. I said not one word about it. On the next occasion to go out, as we head for the door, I look over at him; “You cannot come.” His mother began with the usual feisty objection. “Because he has not yet learned how to behave in public.” Looking over at him; “and now, because of you Great Scott, your sister cannot go with us either. She needs to stay home because you have not yet demonstrated that you can be trusted.” Nothing like it ever happened again. It only took once. We must have made, with the whole crew, a dozen trips to Florida for the winter. Not on the whole trip, not one time, did one of them make a sound. My winter home at the time was in Dania. They were the only white children in the school. Judging how they turned out as adults, it does not appear there were any ill effects because of it. Are schools supposed to be the trainers on the way of life for the children or is that the parents responsibility. I could come up with a dozen real examples of the results my children had for no more reason than being well behaved and mannerly. I brought the boys with me on a visit to a friend named William Duarte. Upon meeting Mister Duarte, they stood quietly at attention. Not due to any instructions from me, Just normal for them, answering every question with; “Yes Sir and No Sir.” His wife Lorraine, fell in love with the boys. She could not hug them enough and do enough for them. For the next twenty five years, they sent the boys expensive Christmas presents,
Over 40 years ago I had a girl friend by the name of Maria Alverez. She came from the Dominican Republic. A sexy Latina. Never imagined a woman would ever be able to take her place. As these uncontrolable events happen. One did. A woman named Sandra. How we hit it off is one for the books, given our age difference.
Any man interested in learning how to please a woman can read my books. Bauerbookstore.com The details are not in any romance novel or sex book. They came to me in the world I made my living. Gambling. A cultured refined gentleman came to rob my partner. I found out what his intentions were thanks to a simple cup of coffee. That led me to see first hand how he controlled the women to get the information he needed in his profession. His luck ran out on this mission. It cost him his life and I wound up owning the his jet airplane. Title of the book that describes this harrowing event is: ‘The Feds Head’
One day, Maria called. She still does every once in awhile. She asked; “what’s wrong?”
“Have a sore throat Maria” my answer. It had been plaguing me for over a week. She quickly added; “I tell to you to do.”
“Yeah, okay Maria.”
I’m an American. In the most advanced country on earth. With a head as big as the country. I’m going to pay any attention to someone from a third world island? She called the next morning. “Eh, I forgot to do what you told me Maria.”
Latina’s, especially sexy ones, have a way of making a man do what they want him to. She came immediately and began cooking her concoction. She forced me to drink it, despite it knocking my socks off. The next morning, my sore throat was gone.
Sandra is the only other woman in my entire life who has been able to work such magic on me. I take care of her the best I can. She deserves much better. For any gentlemen who would like to help me in that endeavor I will share my pictures of her. If she gets mad at me for bragging about her then she is not the woman I think she is. Plus, it would be interesting to see if she does to other men what she does to me. I cannot be in the same room with her, long before she kisses me, that I begin to sizzle and my blood boils over. Wish there was some kind of radiator and thermostat for such an affliction. It’s been a couple years now and the affliction keeps getting worse, not better. Doubtful I will have the same luck with Sandra as I had with Maria.
Recently, there appeared a post on Facebook that read; “I don’t wear a mask. My mask is inside me. It’s called the ‘Immune System.’
It was not very long after Maria forced me to drink her tea that I saw a spot in a health book that read; ‘there is scientific evidence that ginger stimulates the immune system.’
I ran my experience by a doctor friend of mine. He is a very narrow closed minded person. He swallows all the virus propaganda, as well as all the vaccine and big Pharma responses. He scoffed; “you’re just an example of one!!”
Maybe so. The woman I married, at 16 yrs. old, who I had no chance of getting along with, called me an Android from another planet. Nevertheless, no matter where I came from, since my first swig of Maria’s tea, which I have had a cup of every day since, I have had not the slightest trace of a sore throat or any kind of raspatory ill feeling. And one time, I was raising a heavy forty foot wooden extension ladder with a guy who had the flue. We were face to face, one foot apart, when he got into a coughing bout and sprayed me. I did not get anything from that, other than thinking it began to rain. And now, during the past year, I have come into close contact with at least a dozen people who were tested positive for Covid. I have had to endure the painful test for the virus, due to needing a medical procedure twice. Both times with negative results. So maybe I am just an example of one. But I need no more proof that ginger is my vaccine. Even if it is only one person, two, including Maria, with all the overwhelming propaganda, from sides that say the opposite things, one side has to be lying, have we heard one single statement, from any source, Doctor Fauci, the CDC, or any government agency, about ginger? Could that be for there being no money in it?
I did make one departure from Maria’s tea. She had smashed a piece of ginger root, about two inches long, I just slice mine, boiled it for ten minutes, dropped an ordinary tea bag in it to make it bearable to drink, half a lemon and honey. When spending a little time in Russia, due to my German boss I worked for finding a girlfriend in Russia, I ran into a scientist, named Boris Badekov, I ran my story by him. He agreed with all of it but added that lemon and honey can promote gall stones. I dropped the lemon. So, it is not really the ginger itself that does the job. It only tickles the immune system. Whatever or however it happens does not matter much to me. I only know it works.