That’s for this year alone. Hopefully there are not many people around as gullible as I am. The ones who are left would do well to read this story.

Also being inflicted with a philosophy contrary to some people. Me believing money is the root of all good. What is someone like that supposed to do when he opens his mail and sees a check for $3,900. Along with a note that reads: ‘You will receive $600 for seven weeks. Deposit the check, take your first six hundred, give the rest to the installer who will put an advertising Red Bull banner on your truck.’

The first red flag flying. Perhaps due to actually having a trailer truck, it blocked me from seeing the flag. It would have been easy enough to call Red Bull. Especially since that trailer truck has never done any trailer trucking. It’s just an old fifty three foot furniture box hauled by a Cat powered Ford Aeromax to air shows. A portable airplane workshop. It did not occur to this lame brain that having a pick-up registered in Florida is what might have been the reason for the advertising promotion being described as, ‘putting a banner on your truck.’

Somehow, despite not being a very good little boy, the Gods above were looking out for me. As I lay the check down at the window to deposit, some angel whispered in my ear: “Ask her if she has a way to call the bank this check is drawn on to make sure it is good.” Very co-operatively she walked off for a minute or two, returning to say: “Yes, check is good, funds are there.” This bank: BB&T has to be the best bank in the country. Been with them for twenty five years. Switched when Bank of America swindled me out of five hundred dollars and have talked to many people who have had the same experience. At the time, Clark Howard, the talk show money Guru, sad he had a list o 4,280 people who filed a complaint against Bank of America. I called to say; “make me number four thousand two hundred and eighty one.” In twenty five years, not a single hitch or difficulty with BB&T. But that is only minor. I received a phone call one day. “This is BB&T Bank, are you in California?” “Me? In California? I don’t even know where California is.” “Someone in California is trying to hack your account.” “Did they get any money?” “No, that’s why we’re calling you, to see if it’s really you.” Simply astounding. Especially when considering money transactions are now in minutes, not days or weeks, like it used to be. And then, my little wonderful friendly BB&T angel behind the counter said: “You can deposit this check all right, but here is most likely what will happen. The installer will come, you will give him thirty three hundred dollars, he will disappear, the account will be instantly closed when the thirty nine hundred dollar check goes there, and then you will be out thirty three hundred dollars” All of a sudden it became obvious. A blind man would have been able to see the con. How stupid can one man be. Why would I need to pay the installer when one of the biggest companies in the world would ay their installer directly. I have a long record of rewarding people who do favors for me Corrupted certainly by a gentleman who was the biggest tipper in the world. One time giving a lady named Jackie in Commerce City Colorado, ten thousand dollars for a tip. With one sentence spoken, she saved him $317,000. The very least I could do for my BB&T angel is withdraw one thousand dollars and give it to her. Tried to, that should be. There was nothing I could do to force her into accepting it. There are two tellers in that bank. The other one, precisely my type, physically. Black hair. Latina face, olive skin, beautiful Spanish eyes. I come in one day, she says “hi, how are you?” I grin; answering; “fine if you give me some money.” She quipped; “not a good thing to say in a bank.” Probably due to her appeal, that I’d never make a comment about otherwise, that simple statement cured my hoof in mouth disease. I think about her all the time when I’m about to spout off something stupid. Who knows what that has saved me. Probably a lot more than just being conned out of thirty three hundred dollars.


police need to change

attention all taxpayers

attention all shop keepers and business owners.

In the library I spotted a magazine with the headline: “The message is clear.! Policing in America must change”

I did not read the article so I may wind up eating my words. It does seem obvious anyhow what the theme is.

Let’s analyze some facts. Americans have more than any other people on earth. The poorest person in the ghetto is richer and has more things than the richest person just 200 years ago. A Bounty Hunter episode (Almost got run over) had Patti Mayo going after a single mother who obviously did not pay something she should have. She lived in a nice house. Twice what she can afford. The garage so full of things Pattie could not squeeze into her new big SUV to put the car back in the garage and roll the door down, out of extreme courtesy, nothing I would have done. She would have heard some choice words out of me. Don’t pay your bills you pay the piper, don’t get the idea to run a cop down.

As much as we have, and I for one have more than I’m entitled to.. A dozen vehicles, trucks, the biggest fifth wheel camper there is, seven airplanes, all homebuilts, including a jet, not homebuilt of course. Three ocean going sailboats. Kept on both coasts and Antalya Turkey. Not to mention personal homes, none rented out, in several states, Vienna Austria and the Caribbean, I happen not to want as much as I have. Am giving houses away. For one reason; paying the taxes is keeping me broke. Recently, gave one house to a son. He put a $380,000 mortgage on it, which he assured me he would not do. Upsetting me a little, despite him turning that 300 along with 400 of his own into five million in a years time, but does not overcome him not keeping his word.

All of us, which I guess would include me, could have double what we have, were it not for one item in the budget. So say not I. I’m quoting the economists. It’s the military slice. Given there are two billion people on the other side of the world who are determined to kill us, the military is one slice we cannot live without. Anyone who refutes this, has not driven up the Jersey Pike. Something I can no longer do. To see those square towers used to thrill me, for how it represented the country that does the impossible. Not to see them would make me sick. I now need to up US 1 and go over the Tappanzee bridge.

Now let’s look at what the GAO publishes every year. The military slice runs three or four up from the smallest, like funding for learning the mating habits of the snail darter. What is the biggest slice of discretionary spending, behind interest on the national debt, that nothing can be done about. Entitlements.

If our standard of living could double were we able to knock down the military, what would happen if we could whittle down the entitlements, even just a little. Unfortunately, we have people and politicians who not only do not want to lower it but increase it. All just to get votes and be able to pull all the ropes. Too dumb and power hungry to know they would wind up with nothing, as has happened in 235 socialist countries,

What would happen if we could prevent thousands of nice new police cars from being burned and destroyed. Somebody had to buy them. Hard working taxpayers. What would happen if we could prevent main street shops and businesses from being looted and destroyed. Things hard working dedicated people spend lifetimes to develop, all due to lazy worthless dregs who find working on a job rather inconvenient.

I grew up in World War Two. No childhood for me. No toys. Never mind toys. We had not enough food. Hungry all the time. I scratched through garbage cans trying to fin any morsel of anything that resembled food. Had to work from the time of getting out of diapers. That’s if mother had any diapers. Than a miracle happened. I got into heaven. Not the one upstairs,. The one with the prefix USA in front of it. I love America. I think for some pretty good reasons. Just for being able to build airplanes is reason enough. My father was a slave on a Monarchs plantation in Bavaria. The first paying job of his life at age 40, in the Queens Mid-Town tunnel, as a laborer pushing a broom at half the prevailing minimum wage. He became a millionaire. A multi millionaire, as public records can verify. It was not he or his hard work that did it. It was America that did it to him.

What did it cost to have a million people march on Washington. For just one tiny example. Had that same money been in an investment fund, those million people would now be on easy street. Had the money spent to destroy our cities gone into something that could make money, where would they be. Even as individuals, a person who wants to get ahead, needs to spend all his time developing something that will make money. At ten years old I was cutting grass and doing whatever I could for neighbors to get money. Built my first house, without any mortgage of course, at age 16, as public records show and on Google Earth. By 18, had at least a million dollars worth of property.

People who riot and protest are merely sicko’s who want to feel important because of their own inequities and having not accomplished a thing else in life. They are nobodies who relish the prospect of being heard. There is no reasoning or making any sense with such people. But if we do not stop the madness that is enveloping our country, we will lose our country.

I am what is commonly described as a cancer survivor. Not that I’ve spent more than a few minutes thinking about it. I only know if the medics had not caught it early, like in a six month window, they said, this would not now be written. It’s been a few years. Every check comes up rosy. PSA going down instead of up.

Isn’t there a similarity to the cancer that is infecting our country. Had it been cut out early, we would not now be facing all the destruction and it’s costs in real money.

Something or someone is keeping the police hands tied behind their backs. It’s up to us to find out what and demand the cuffs be taken off them. I talk to police all the time. They are all American boys and girls. They were raised with American ideals and principles. There is not a prayer of a chance a single cop in America can be brainwashed into becoming a sadistic monster leading to a totalitarian takeover. In fact, it’s just the opposite. If we do not cut this cancer out, it might just lead to a dictatorship. I’m beginning to believe that is precisely what some people have in mind. The question is only, how are we going to go about accomplishing that goal. There are people far more astute and smarter than I. Let’s hope they figure it out.



We are 5% of the world’s population, We use 55% of the world’s resources.

Should we not. Perhaps do not disserve to be so greedy. Or maybe the rest of the world should come out of the dark ages to grab their share. Maybe it would get us closer to developing space trucks and equipment to mine other planets for the raw material we need on earth. May sound far fetched, but it will come. For a reason, the earth has only one renewable resource, which is wood.

Genetically, dark is dominant over light. There have been twice as many white people slaughtered, abused and taken as slaves by dark people, than dark people taken as slaves by whites. Happening thanks to the Asian Mongols having a secret weapon. Being on the massive Asian steppes they bred horses. That gave them mobility. Something the Europeans did not have. The Europeans had to come up with a defense. There is no castle in Europe that is not within sight of another castle.

When the invasions by the Mongols or Muslims began, the whole town moved up into the castle after the light signal made by a fire flashed across Europe. Anyone visiting a castle will quickly see why a castle could not be broken into.

At one point or another every country in Europe had been a world power. Even tiny Portugal. The exception was Germany. A little fly in the ointment for them. A very ferocious fly called America. Spanish the biggest. British the smallest and weakest. They had to come with the best of the best. They succeeded and built the strongest of all the empires the sun never set on.

The same techniques that built empires rich people use to get richer. Of course there are exceptions to every rule, but basically, more fly’s are caught with honey than vinegar. America being the greatest in history with that doctrine. During a recent conversation that got into WW11 I made a comment about how much larger Germany was before the war. The Russians for one grabbed a big chunk. What is now Kaliningrad was a major German port in Prussia.

“And what did the US get?” my friend asked. “Nothing” I answered. Than thought a moment. “Come to think about it, the US got the most. By not being greedy and mean, as the other countries were. Germany and Japan are our most powerful economic allies. We may have a few too many wasteful people but American companies burn the midnight oil to control waste. If they don’t, the competition will. Get the business and make the money. It’s that conservative survival instinct inbred in Europeans that built America. My own father for one example. Along with fifty million more. He did not arrive in America penniless. He owed $75 to a sponsor. At least we did own the clothes we were wearing and not a thing more.

Three years later, he was financially independent. Ten years, a multi millionaire. Anyone who doubts that can google Massachusetts Barnstable county registry of deeds. John and Gertrude Bauer. Just John Bauer is me. My wife at the time, being against making money, and dispising the Air Force, her head polluted with end of the world store up treasures in heaven nonsense, I could not trust her and put nothing in her name. Last I checked, the world is still here, sixty years later and she still lives in poverty in the little house I built her when we divorced.

My father’s record has millions in property deeds. Myself, by age 18, at least a million. Having two waterfront properties, one in the Blue Water Shores section and the other on Deer Pond. I paid no cash for either one. Worked them off from developers. Blue Water Shores piece sold for two million. I ran out of money at $100,000 and had to put a loan of $27,000 on it. The only mortgage I ever had. Totally against our culture to borrow money. When father learned of my loan he became quite perturbed.

I had a tab at Falmouth Lumber for $50,000. Along with Grossmans lumber, where I did not even ask to run a tab. When my bill came to more than I had, telling the cashier, the manager, Herb Kornbleit, overheard it and said “give him whatever he wants” I didn’t think the guy even knew me. Upon discovering, which I attempted to hide from my father, my debts, he paid everything off. He did not do so for me. He was not about to let a black mark get on his families name in his new country that had been so good to him. Easy enough to understand how he felt. The first paying job of his life, at age 40, came from the Queens Midtown Tunnel as a laborer, pushing a broom. Coming from being a slave on a Bavarian Monarchs plantation, where his pay was being able to use one quadrat meter of land, out of a couple thousand hectares the Monarch owned, to grown his own cabbage.

Germany had a caste system, still does actually, but dying, to rival all European countries and china where one is and will be there for the rest of his life all dictated by the name he was born with. In Germany, anyone with Von in his name is the elite and anyone putting it there without it being in the bloodline will get prosecuted. Like for one example; General Von Paulis, the brillient strategist who pulled off miracles, got blasted.

Going from slave to millionaire in my lifetime. Only in America. Someday I may learn the American definition of the word injustice. Have heard the word many times but still have not been shown one single example of it. There is one great thing that Bavarian peasant slave had going for him when he began to battle all the injustice in America.

There was at least one thing that comes to mind. However, given his name; Bauer, being the lowest on the German totem pole, he was not allowed to attend school. What good is a person unable to read and write his own language, never mind English, and worse, his only skill, tending cows and growing cabbage, to an American company. To identify the slave plantation in German needs only an N on the end of my name; ‘dei bauern’ He did have a day job also. In the Montiviori hospital. Making beds. Getting paid less than half the going minimum laborers wage. His first lucky break in America. No minimum wage laws then. If there were, he’d have had no job. Then, he had the next break. He did not need anything. He had his freedom. Way more than enough for him.

There is one little detail about making money few Americans are aware of. Hard work does not make money. To be a dedicated conscientious hard worker is commendable but that does not make money. Education is marvelous. But it does not make money. If it did, there would be a lot of rich college professors. And from what I hear about what they teach our youngsters, I need to question their intelligence.

In America, it’s money that makes money.

I had about 16 uncles and a dozen aunts. They all made it to America. All blue collar skilled machinists, engineers, well paid factory workers in Detroit. Their combined total assets did not come to 10% of my fathers, not even mine. My uncles preached to me all the time about training for a good factory job. Well meaning of course, but did not turn out to be the direction my life took. And my poor father could not even count to a hundred. Did not know how to read a ruler. I had to do all his interpreting in business. Trying to explain anything to him about lawyers, deeds, title searches would have been useless. I had just turned 15 when I needed to address a town zoning meeting to plead our case for business zoning on a ten acre main street property. Perhaps the deal that popped my father up to the sixteenth largest taxpayer in town. Anyone interested enough to learn the step by step sequence that led up to being number 16 can read my book. And my father probably the least successful of the people who came from the same background. He did not possess the same money making acumen of say the Jews who came from even worse conditions. My father had no plan. No dream. Did nothing with any intentions. All he wanted to do is find enough ground to grow enough cabbage to make sauerkraut. And indeed. For about a year, we had sauerkraut for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So it was not really he that made him rich. It was America that did it. So anyone reading his story should do much better with a deliberate plan.

Right now I’m in a truck stop. The best internet around. There most of the day every day. Whatever I buy I take n change, even if it’s a $9 buffet meal I flipped a twenty in for. At the same time, take the gril off the ice machine to scoop up the ice that people dump out of their cups when they put too much in. I cant stand seeing the ice go to waste. I was in McDonalds at I-95 and SR 520. Miss Kelly, the manager can verify this. A customer came out of the men’s room screeching about the floor being wet. “Don’t give it a thought Miss Kelly” I said. My truck happened to have the tools and a wax ring in it. I fixed the leak. Can’t count the number of times I’ve heard the water running in a public bathroom, took the tank lid off to adjust the plunger, unable to stand anything being wasted. Miss Linda Polanski, owner of the Clay hotel on Miami Beach, where I have a permanent little cubby hole for a room when I get to the beach. When I passed her office one day she yelled for me to come in. “Every time you’re here my water bill takes a plunge. I’m beginning to think yu have something to do with that.” I assumed she was insinuating I do something to jimmy the meter. I would not tell that every time I hear water running I track the leak down and fix it. Not doing such things for a pat on the back, I do it for me.

At one point a Wendy’s employee in the truck stop tells me I cannot take the ice. I paid no attention. A couple days later she tells me again. Bothering me is her having no conception about not letting the piles of ice going to waste, despite me telling her I don’t want the ice going to waste. People of her type have a different set of values. To them, a boom box playing RAP disks and renting jacked up car rims is more important than saving money to invest in something that can make money. If that’s what someone wans. Fine. We live in a free country. But then don’t complain about other people having money and some kind of injustice being the reason for not succeeding. No one is entitled to anything, for any reason. And it further bothered me that it did not occur to her that for being spoken to as I was that I may no longer get anything from Wendy’s. I get everything from the Flying J side. So for a couple kopecs worth of ice she cost her company many dollars in sales. Here is a woman, on the IQ level, far above my father. No chance for her to ever become financially independent never mind rich. It all happening for him just because he could not waste anything.


white privilege

The reason for requesting Italian parents is simple enough. Leonardo DeVinci was the smartest person who ever lived. Why do people assume it to be Einstein? He only knew some theoretical physics. DeVinci designed the first airplane. When his plans were discovered and the design built it flew five hundred feet higher and a mile further than the Wright Brothers airplane.

My second choice: French. Due to the romantic image of everything French. Guess I was not good enough to qualify for either one. They wound up giving me German parents. Not making me very happy. With good reason. Germans are sheeples. Nobody there does anything without being told and given permission. One of the reasons American Hillbilly Rednecks and Cowboys were able to defeat the most powerfull military machine ever developed.

Being raised in such an environment can make anyone a little abstinent. The word ‘permission’ does not fit my narrative. Having grown up there, I knew better than make any noise in Germany. Unlike American Harley noise makers, their BMW’s run silently. There are no police or fire sirens. Bus tires are engineered not to make any road friction noise. The only sound coming from the three hundred mile an hour ICE train is do to the wind vortex the train creates. There is no working on ones house during the week-end. No lawn mowers. No blowers. No saws. Not much auto traffic as everything is closed for the whole week-end. Not sure what would happen to someone yelling at a friend accross a parking lot or down an isle in a supermarket, as can be heard every day in America. He’d at the least be in for a good reprimand.

So, when I got pulled over for a trailer tail light out, I did not need to be told I better not raise my voice when responding to the cops questions. Hopefully, no one visiting Germany will be deceived by their appearance. Loose fitting wrinkled uniform, shoes not shined. The gun, if a cop has one, will be hanging at an angle that looks like it will fall off. Not told this, but clear to me it is deliberate, to shake off the image of the sharp Nazi uniforms.

Despite the stumble bum appearance, were someone to raise a hand intending to shove or slap the cop, before the hand would be able to make contact, that person would be dead. As in dead dead. So I knew enough not to contradict the cop about any point in our conversation.

But then, stupid me, with hoof in mouth disease, said only this; “Sir, this would never happen in America”

He went from being Mister Jeckel to monster Hyde. “Herroff!” “Du gaist yetst vek, im auto, so fhort!!” Obediantly, I get into his car. He takes me to the airport. While my rig is sitting on the side of the road, which got towed off to the impound. “You!!” “Be on the next plane out. Not one to America. Does not matter to where, South Pole, does not matter, if I come back, and an airplane left, and you are still here, you will then have a problem!” “But Sir, I do not have the money for a ticket”

“Does not matter. Call someone with a credit card, you be gone!!!”

One would think such a person would learn a lesson the first time. It happened to me twice.

Fortunately, being raised in America, from age fourteen, having American ways, unable to stand their lunacy, when younger, I would taunt them deliberately. Of course, without ever raising my voice or making any movement or gesture that could get me killed or put on a work farm as they have no jails. The work farm over there does not mean picking up trash on the side of the road. For one reason, there is no trash to pick up. Anyone caught tossing so much as a cigarette but on the ground will wind up in the work farm, where he will be on some construction site, mixing concrete or smashing rocks.

Should it not be easy enough to understand how a youngster coming from such a lunatic asylum to the land of the free, might go a little loony himself. The land where he can say whatever he wants. My own mother wound up in a Nazi jail. Everyone in the family knew that but no one knew why. I asked my precious little Taunta Hedwich why. She answered; “auch Chunny, you haf no idea what it was like then, If the Gestapo got the idea you were thinking wrong thoughts, you’d be in jail. Getting caught actually saying something wrong and you would disappear.”

The driving age at the time was sixteen. At age fourteen, I built a hot rod nothing could touch. Not even were police cars able to. A thirty four Ford chopped and channeled, three ninety two Chrysler hemi, in front of a Cadillac Lasalle tranny. When the cops finally boxed me in, one cop said to the other; “let’s get out of here before this thing blows up, and you, go home and be a good boy, don’t let us catch you again”

I could see no sense in having a license. Not even after getting stopped by the Wareham Massachusetts police. When the cop ran me and came back to my car, he asked; “how come you don’t have a license?”

“I will get one Sir, first chance I get”

“For twenty five years you have been trying to get the chance?!!!” he screeched, tearing me out of the car, cuffed me, tossed me into his car like a sack of potatoes and off to jail I went for a well disserved little vacation. Not getting caught again in twelve years, in Miami. And right now, as this is being written, do not have a license.

I have also been arrested, in San Francisco, Denver, Boston, Miami and Key Largo, For building without a permit. The latest in Vero Beach. The police finding a ticket on me from 1976. The ticket: Driving too slow on I-75 going by Naples. The cop lied. A ten thousand hour airplane driver does not need a speedometer to tell him how fast he’s going. I was doing a rock steady fifty five. He put forty four on the ticket. Never paid that one either.

The fees and interest accrued over thirty years came to much more than it cost me to sit in jail for a couple days. I certainly never intended to be such an incorrigible misfit. It’s a little difficult to make time for beau acracies and governmental edicts when life in America is so exciting. I needed an extra eight hours every day just to keep up with my basic interests. Building airplanes for one, having done seven so far. All from plans, no fabricated parts. My dream bird, a three quarter P-51. A typical EEA-er does about one in a lifetime.

Given what I came from, one would think I could be accorded just a tiny bit of all this ‘white privilege’ I hear so much about. But it was not to be. Can’t remember how many times arrested and treated like a bank robber, one time the cuffs so tight my arm ached for six months. That one by the Vero Beach cops.

No one needs to tell me what a screw up I am. The next person who wants to will need to stand in a long line. My girl friend minces no words when reminding me. My son has been telling me about all the things I do wrong, screeching to me about all of societies rules since he’s ten years old. At least one good thing came out of my aberrant ways. He is insanely methodical about making sure every I is dotted and T crossed.

No one knows how stupid I am better than myself. That does not keep me from knowing that a society cannot function by having different rules for renegade Germans who cannot take orders. Unless, from the man I worshiped. My C/O Major Donald E. Hall. Were he to say ‘jump’ I’d only respond with ‘how high Sir’ Nor can society have different rules for any other group. Given what chaos we have now, imagine what life would be like if a group, like, say, the Muslims. could do what they want. In their religion it’s perfectly proper to snatch an infidel female off the sidewalk, rape and kill her, and marry six year old little girls. Osama Bin Laden had 126 children by 30 or 40 wives. And they want to bring that to America?

What we have is bad enough, as the definition of the word ‘chaos’ aptly describes; ‘Fathers day in the hood.’ Despite all my run-ins’ with the police, it infuriates me to hear people rail against them. And even civilized people try to white wash their narrative with there being only a few bad cops. I need to forgive them since they know nothing about Nazi Germany. There is no such thing as a bad cop in America. There is no jurisdiction where a prejudiced sadistic person could pass the psychological analytical tests to be a cop. Not to mention, the weakest person there is needs to be pretty brave to be a cop in America today and even that cop is protecting me. So right now I am pretty angry. To merely see someone flip a bird at a cop, is unacceptable, beyond showing what a low life, uncultured, discusting moron such a person is. How about the defunding activists who called 911 because of a burglar in her house. I just wish they would attempt to pull off their anti cop nonsense in Germany.

I used to taunt and ridicule the police over there. I have now come a hundred and eighty degrees around. Their system works better than ours. How can Americans see pictures of burned out and smashed police cars and not become enraged. There is already too much crime. All those police cars destroyed means that much less area that can be patrolled. We should at least get to know who or what is keeping the police hands tied behind their back. It’s time to find out, fight back and let the police end this madness.

We are of course, in pretty bad shape. We even had a President who said; which I heard live, so it was not misquoted, “the rioting must continue to bring change”

“You f___n idiot!!!”

There is nothing in America that needs to be changed. Nothing.!! We are continually hearing the word ‘injustice’ But yet to be given one single example of anything that can keep someone from getting ahead. My own father, a Bavarian peasant, who was not allowed to attend school, for his name being low class, along with thousands just like him, came to America, penniless, and became a millionaire. No. Multi millionaire. Probably because he did not cry about any phony injustice and burn police cars.


men only

An email arrived from a good friend in Miami, Graham, who continually finds information that is enlightening and sometimes hilarious. The first shot of this one reads only: ‘The book has finally arrived!’ Scroll to next scene; man sitting at a table, head resting on the elbow, deep in study. About three inches of the book left to go, with three feet of the book over the side on the floor. Next scroll down reads; ‘This book will help you to understand women’ Not MAKE a man understand, only help him.

One factor in making it difficult enough to require over 14,000 pages is the fact, like snowflakes, no two women are the same. They range from the sweetest lovable little sex kittens, to the most evil sadists that ever lived. Like for one, Irma Ida Grese during Nazi rule. A guard in the woman’s block at Auswitz and Ravensbruc, then chief of women’s bloc in Bergan Belsen. In 1945 tried by the British for the most violent crimes against humanity, sentenced to death by hanging. At age 22, making her the youngest women ever to be executed. There were many such women. Most were 300 pound bull dykes. Irma, a slim short girl with good figure that could have been good looking.

Somewhere in between are the con artists. Running into my first around age 20 and have since established a flawless perfect 100% record. Currently upon discovering Facebook. Not that I was savvy enough to catch on by myself. My girl friend put me there to begin with. Along with her picture and the caption; ‘can’t wait to become Mrs. John Bauer’ For me to be bold enough to imagine she put it there to shake off all the other women chasing me there would need to be such women. There is not even one.

There was a friend of hers who made a play. A person as deceitful as anyone can get. She only wound up making me some money, by causing me to write a book; ‘Price of Deceit’

My girl friend, whose last text read; ‘when are we going to get hitched?’ has given me four books. None of which would have come to be were it not for her. Beginning with the book; ‘Battered’ getting the best revues. Her story about dealing with a violent, abusive, possessive jealous husband. The only woman in my lifetime to make me money.

Those kind of men get the exact opposite results of what they fight for. Not in the book is the part of him smashing the door to my apartment open and destroying the place. Fortunately, she was not in it when he found out where she had gone into hiding. She had walked down to the nearby 7/11 for a coffee. On the way back, she spotted his car in front of the apartment and dialed 911. So instead of getting her back, he got some jail time. He makes me look like a puny little weakling. Twenty five years younger than I am and without any doubt, better looking. On top of all that, has money. They lived in a million dollar house. The family quite rich. Make me look like a pauper anyhow.

The Lady’s name is Carmen. Many of my readers have already met her. Except her. She refused to read the book. Perhaps too emotional for her. Every time I’d propose to her, she had a simple one word answer; “NO” And then, when her divorce finalized, she says something quite the opposite on Facebook.

She is the most humble, non materialistic I have ever met. At one point, she said something rather poignant that touched me, the beginning of me falling in love with her. I made a simple comment about being so humble for being such a little sexpot. “I’ll tell you how humble” she said “there were eleven of us in a two room Brooklyn apartment. We all got long. We were all happy. Then I met my husband. Every day I had to listen to him tell me how lucky I was that he took me out of the ghetto into luxury. I kept getting more miserable every day.”

I did not know Brooklyn was a ghetto to begin with. I lived in a lower East Side German ghetto. Ludlow Street off Delancy to be exact. Ha an aunt in Queens. To us, Brooklyn was the Ritz. Guess Carmen and I had more in common than I thought.

A little cute how we met. On one of her runs escaping her husband who continually slammed her around beating her up, she crashed with a friend who happened to be my tenant. All of which I discovered later on and eventually had an encounter. She’s five feet, one hundred pounds. He’s two hundred and fifty. I asked him why he couldn’t pick on someone his own size and then threatened to kill him if he touches her again. I’m no he-man. One seventy pounds. I don’t fight fair. I just fight to win.

One day I get a call. A woman whose voice I did not recognize. As soon as she said hello, I asked; “You wanna make fifty bucks in the next half hour?” I had a prospective tenant on his way to look at an apartment the previous tenant left in shambles, besides stealing all my furniture after owing three months rent. She answered rather snidely; “yeah, I can guess doing what” “Clean an apartment” came the instant explanation. She attacked that apartment like a little beaver and came to within five minutes of finishing when the new tenant arrived. On our way back to her friend Dianna’s apartment, I ducked into mine to get her fifty dollars. She simply walked in behind me and sat down. We talked and talked the rest of the day, on into the night. Never before had I experienced such a nice conversation and never before did I fall so deeply in love. It’s been seven years since that fateful day. Not yet married but soon will be. So far we have been too busy traveling, having fun, enjoying life. She is a feisty little sex pot all right but I’d still feel the same if she were frigid. I’d rather sit in a chair across from her, just talking, than do everything there is to do with any other woman I’ve known or seen.

We have had our brawls. Her being a hot headed Puerto Rican. I remember our first fight. Making it the first time in my life I went chasing after a woman running away from me. I caught her. Wrapped my arms around her waist as she leaned back, saying, ‘Darling, did we have our first fight?”

One of the reasons I’ve always been addicted to Latina’s. As fast as they flare up, they come down, hugging and kissing. I was married at age sixteen. Any time I did something my wife didn’t like she wouldn’t speak to me for a month. One time, after at least a couple weeks of the silent treatment, I asked; “now what hair you got across your ass?”

“How could you?” she sulked.

“How could I what?”

“How could you” her lips quivering “how could you pick up a hitchhiker with me in the car?”

We were coming home from the movies. In the winter. About ten degrees out. No traffic on icy streets. I see a young kid with his thumb out. A young kid probably older than myself. “Why you Bitch!” I fume “what if that were your kid!?”

A typical religious hypocrite. On another occasion, anxious to show off my beautiful wife, and beautiful she was and still is, don’t know how we got into a night club, where the MC told an off color joke. Nothing raunchy. Just a little too strong for a prude. She slammed her fist down on the table, saying as loud as she could; “I don’t have to take this!!!” and stormed out.

I’d take the trashiest street girl who had banged three hundred and seventy five men before I’d get involved with a pius, religious virgin prude. This may sound good to some men but it was not. Due to my employment, I have never been in one location longer than a three month stretch. Most often less, but never more than three months. Had a new girl friend every three months. Taking the best of all of them, would not match the excitement Carmen gives me at her worst. That’s what happens when a man finds that most special one.

When messages from women began appearing on my Facebook page, an idea hit me. To turn the tables on them. When the conversation got around to what I did for a living, it would be “sell books” “Wow” the girls would say; “wow, an author” I mean, that’s what I thought they would say and buy a book. After a couple years and more women than I can count, my record is holding up at 100% perfect. I have not sold one book to those kind of women.

So, with so much experience, another idea gelled. To write a book about how to detect the tiny clues that expose a woman who is hustling. Not much inclined to put any finishing touches on a woman’s hustling program, who is more likely than not, a man in Ceylon or Bangledesh, the only way to get the book is by a man calling 321-271-5290.


for men only

An email arrived from a good friend in Miami named Graham who continually finds information that is enlightening and sometimes rib busting hilarious. The first shot of this one read only ‘The Book Has Arrived’ Scroll to next scene. A man sitting at a table, head resting on the elbow, in deep study. About three inches of the book left to go, with about three feet already read, flipped over onto the floor. The next scroll down reads; ‘this book will help you to understand women.’

Not MAKE a man understand, just help.

Ran out of time. will finish this next Friday


appreciation time

“Thank you for your service”

Words I hear continually. I stop them.

“You have that backwards,” I say, “it’s me who needs to thank them.”

Had all my flight ratings upon getting in. Compared to what the Air Force will do to a newbe, not an Air Force term by the way, all the civilian ratings are not even at kindergarten level. It’s not possible, but were I able to get the same training outside the Air Force, it would cost a couple hundred thousand dollars. Is that reason enough to be grateful for them letting me in. But that is only money. No amount of money can buy the experience and camaraderie. Not to mention how much I worshiped my C/O, Major Donald E. Hall, despite how many times he grounded me.

“You know what You are Lieutenant,” he’d yell, “You’re a fanatic!”

We did have our minimums but what would I care about minimums when there is an American down. More than once my REO moaned; “kind a hairy, eh Lieutenant.” My answer would be; “will you shut da fuck up and keep looking”

My L-19 had seven hours range. I’d not come in by proper procedures. Would stand the airplane up on a wingtip over the fuel pump, dropping down like a free falling safe, sometimes dead stick. Regs are 45 minute reserve, getting me in trouble a few times, pushing the plane to the pump, hoping my C/O would not spot me. Would not wait to get blasted, fuel up and right back out. Two seven hour missions, no food, no water, no peeing. The expression on a ground pounder’s face when plucking him out of the abyss all the pay I needed.

There is no way to describe how sad it makes me to see what is happening to my country. They do not call Airmen ‘pussies’ for nothing. When we’d get back to base there would be a nice dinner in the Mess and a comfortable bed in the BOQ. I’m not able to describe the condition some of the ground pounders we’d pick up were in after groveling through the muck, eating C’rats, and licking moisture off tree leaves to stay alive. How must they feel when seeing what’s happening to their country. They did what they did so we can live in Freedom, to do what we want. How do we now have so many people who not only despise the military, that makes their life possible to begin with, but think being able to do what they want means setting buildings and police cars on fire.

The time has long past to fight back. To wipe this vermin out. Personally, I know nothing about politics. The people who do must find a way to ban all public protesting. There is nothing to protest about to begin with. We live in the greatest country ever put together by man. There is no such thing as peaceful. Crowds on the sidewalk chanting and yelling disturbs the peace. The people who do even only that are demented, have a psychological aberration, makes them feel good about being heard.

The first problem is it being UnAmerican. We protest at the ballot box. If we don’t get done what we want, we accept it and have the wisdom to know the difference. Protests accomplish precisely the opposite of what is claimed they want, demonstrating the hypocrisy of it all.

For an early experience of mine. I loved the Cubans in Miami. Enough to risk my life for them during their escape. Unfortunately, not always beating the sharks to them, causing me to write the book: ‘Manage au Toix’ Than one day, I had an appointment downtown. Got stopped in traffic for two hours, missing my not so important appointment, all because of a Cuban rally. My love turned to anger. By now, how many millions of ordinary hard working Americans have had their lives interrupted, appointments missed, money lost, just because of low life, lazy, good for nothing brainless protesters That’s without beginning to think about all the people who spent a lifetime developing a business, losing it all in one flash.

Right now, my hatred for the BLM’s and Antifas is seething. I see faces in my memory bank, beginning with my high school classmate, Arthur Hennessy who gave his life for them in the Army. I’ve always respected our Commander in Chief, even Swilly Willie, but then I endured a speech by one who said protesting must continue to bring change. He brought some change in me all right. My disdain for him turned to hate.

So, Patriots, how do we get that done. No more public protesting of any kind. Forget about the American right to free speech garbage. We no longer have free speech to begin with When in Germany, I do not speak German, my native language. It’s my method for reading minds. Have been called an American pig more times than I can count, which angers me but somehow manage to control it. Were it not for the Americans they’d be saying; ‘Heil Hitler’ eighty times a day.

So to, Americans blast me with being a ‘raciest’ It does not work. I’m going to say whatever I want. Been in FB jail a dozen times along with myriads of other people. Who are they to censor what we have to say with their phony ‘community standard nonsense. Guess we do have a community standard now. ‘Burn Baby Burn’ Let’s get busy and put that fire out and show a little appreciation for the people protecting us.



When someone continually lies to you, how many times does it take before you no longer have any faith in what you then hear? hopefully everyone around has less faith than I had. Since there are no people as old as I am, it’s easy for me to hold the record of being bamboozled the most number of times. Married at age 16. We had no financial or sexual problems as so many people have. She loved comedies. Life is too serious for me. I could not stand them. She hated my documentaries and news programs. Sixty Minutes and 20/20. Causing the greatest marital problems imaginable. Along came a few subjects I knew a little about. For an example: Sixty Minutes did a whistle blower segment on aircraft certification. Dan Rather did not have a single, not one, fact right. For another: The quotation of Krueschev’s UN speech. Blasted all over the media. “We will bury you” Those four words touched off the costliest arms race in the history of mankind. Much worse. Came close to destroying the whole world. It is now, fifty years later, costing as much to dismantle those missile silos as it cost to build them.

I do remember thinking, as a youth, how can a world leader, no matter how demented, make such a statement. But not astute enough to give it a little more thought. The whole country got whipped into a frenzy. Much like the virus of today is doing. Schools across the country had continuous air raid drills. Bomb shelters were being built by the millions. There is a whole city underground, built for government people to survive. The very people who should not survive. And what for? There would be nothing left to govern. Pure selfishness. Easy to do when spending other peoples money. Radar Connie airplanes continuously flew up and down both coasts 24/7. Imagine what only that cost. My Wing, the five fifty first, did the East coast and it happened to be me who flew the very last Connie to mothballs in Arizona. Co-pilot, just to keep the record straight. Captain Kuel the A/C.

Some years go by. I wind up in Russia. In this way. Owner of the German company I worked for has a brother who found a Russian girl friend that he eventually married. He invited me along to visit her every week. In the process, making friends with many Russians. Including a lady friend of my own, Svetlana Kurtsov in St. Petersburg. They all had the same story. Russia tried to be friends with America. The arms race, my opinion, was America’s fault. All it had to do to prevent it is stay one missile behind the Russians There already were enough to end all life. And it almost happened. The man we owe our very existence to gets no credit. Michial Gorbechev.

How many Americans know Johnny Walker? To pay for his lavish lifestyle, he sold U.S. Navy codes to the Soviets. They knew the location of every American boomer. Their Joint Chiefs wanted a first strike to wipe out all the boomers. They knew they’d get hit with a few land based, but thought it worth destroying the U.S. once and for all. Their first step; kidnapping the Premier, hiding him in a Siberian Dacha until they succeeded. How fortunate Gorby had enough loyalists to rescue him. I thought nothing of it at the time when seeing him coming off the airplane with an angry expression until I learned the whole story.

Yes, Krushchev did say they would bury us. Media was not lying. They just left off the last word of the sentence; “economically” “we will bury the U.S. economically” The most expensive word in the history of languages.

My faith in the media shattered. All I needed to do is listen to my wife. I have not watched an American news broadcast in twenty years.

Netflix has a documentary with thousands of examples to show what deceptions the media makes. How many do we need to see before we begin to lose faith.



Some people may find this story mildly interesting.

   Along the south coast of Turkey are many Club Meds. German, French, British, Dutch and several others. None from communist or socialist countries. They all appear to be swanky resorts. Not the German one. Looks like a world war two military fortress. Surrounded by a ten foot high concrete wall with ten feet of concertina wire on top of it. A visitor needs to be cross examined  through three closed blocks and is then followed to his destination.

   All only for the big headed Germans to feel safe. Monied people of course. They pay over four thousand dollars a week to stay in this prison. Not a one has ever ventured out. The airplanes my company uses to bring them there from Germany are little eight passenger turboprops. The Germans are not going to lower themselves to go by airline, at one twentieth the cost. The nearest airliner field being on the other side of a mountain range in Antalya, just an excuse. The bus fare from Antalya to Chemuyva is twenty five cents. Easy to understand why a poor man like myself cannot get along with those people. Not to mention how many times they have insulted me.

   For one, they would not allow me to keep my dufflebag inside their compound. I know why. It had the words: US Navy on it. Which is the very reason I had to have that bag. Even though I’m Air Force. Should the Muslims ever overrun the place and take all the people hostage, who can we suppose they will call? Navy Seals of course. The rest of us can be grateful we are not those stuck up Germans.

   I happen to be the opposite extreme. When going to a foreign country, there is no sitting in a hotel room watching TV. I need to get out, explore the country, learn the local language, make friends. That alone has led to countless experiences those snobs will never have. It has also landed me in jail in Turkey. Forget Midnight Express. Not even close to reality. For me, not happy with one stint. Got in twice. Have also been evicted out of Germany. Again, not learning the first time, it happened twice. Talk about one man who appreciates growing up in America. A little jail time can’t change that.

   The Germans being stuck in their prison sparked an idea in a twenty year old kid name David Schmidt. Give the inmates something more to do than screech around their harbor on jet ski’s. Take them for scenic glider rides around the mountains. Knowing he’d not be able to lure them to the airport, gave him the idea of towing a glider with a boat.

   I happened to be the senior pilot with about nine thousand more flying hours logged than the whole rest of the crew put together, including Mister Schmidt, whose father is a Colonel in the Austrian Air Force.

   I told them to forget the idea. Aerodynamically impossible. David persisted. Don’t recall how he found a little backyard tinkerer in the tiny isolated story book village of Speigleburg, about five hundred population. Doubtful that a single resident of that village has ever been out of it. The tinkerers house is small in square foot area but goes up five stories against the mountain. The ground floor is his shop. Over the door entrance is a beautiful hand carved sign written in the ancient German script that reads; ‘Skunkworks’ in German.

“Herr Christoff,” I asked, a little intrigued by the coincidence, what made you come up with that name?”

They may be isolated and totally self contained needing nothing out of town, but they have the internet.

“From your America Lockheed company,” he answered. He liked the sound of that name. A man who has not one time been out of that village and never been near an airplane. He solved the problem that made towing a glider off the beach with a boat possible. Something no one in the world had ever done before.

The story gets better. A towed glider needs to get high enough to catch a thermal. If no thermal conditions, there is no point in taking a glider off the ground. Fifteen hundred feet is generally adequate. Unless it’s in Marion Arkansas with farm fields next to forestland. Than five hundred feet will do. Where did Christoff ever get the idea to write a letter to NASA to see if they had any ideas. They did. They even sent him a spool of line they use in space. Less thick than ordinary fishing line.

With that line we were able to tow gliders up to four thousand feet. Imagine what technology it required to develop that line. Making it one of a thousand incidents that made me especially proud to be an American. Not just due to its technological capabilities, but that NASA voluntarily, without being asked, sent him a spool. That’s the real America.

Ever since Aristotle, but really a Portuguese development, man has known where on earth he is, latitude wise. When three British warships turned north, thinking they were in the channel for home, they ran aground on the Hebrides, losing all three ships. The British Admiralty offered a million dollar reward to anyone who could solve the problem of Longitude.

An Englishman named John Harrison came up with the solution. Since Mister Harrison did not know what a ship is or ever in his life even been near the ocean, the Admiralty scoffed that a clock maker could not have the answer and refused to pay him. It took ten years for him to collect the money. The very same parameters Mister Harrison developed are still used to establish longitude in navigation.

Thanks to NASA, the tows turned into a very lucrative operation. An example of how American principles influence money making. David and I immediately bought four boats from Dixie Marine in Miami, along with endless equipment and materials, plus a Kenworth tractor trailer to haul the equipment.

For every person we could take up at two hundred dollars, we had twenty standing in line. They began outbidding each other. Four and five hundred dollars commonly, one gentleman offered one thousand dollars to be next. And then I ran into a Russian school teach and a Russian nuclear engineer named Svetlana Kurtsof. They were genuinely interested in our operation but had no money. I took them up for free. I also had the Commandant of the Turkish Navy for a passenger.

David’s wife Didem ran the boat. I flew the glider and David had his hands full managing the business and teaching new crews. The operation runs year around but I’d only be there during the tourist season for three or four months. In three months I’d make enough money, tax free, to carry me for a couple years if necessary. That is what people who get involved with such things as this rioting lunacy will never experience. I have to believe that catching a thermal tossing a glider up to eighteen thousand feet, my highest ever, generally twelve or sixteen thousand, has to be a lot more exhilarating than setting a police car on fire.



It’s beginning to look like we’ve been snowed.

Occasionally I do jobs for a German company. The owner of Twin Eagle Corporation, David Schmidt, called last night for me to report for duty. Exactly what duty did not get much into the conversation. Just one of three possible things they find for me to do. It’s a feeder airline. Might be driving the small airplane that brings passengers from Northern Germany to their Club Med in Chemuyva Turkey, driving boat loads of tourists around the ancient Middle East sites. or making believe I’m a diplomat when dealing with foreign governments. Germans are not known for being very diplomatic. Americans are. That skill and me having an American passport the most needed in that company.

We seemed to be more interested in talking about what’s happening on both sides of the Atlantic. A few years ago, one time, despite knowing better, I used the N word while talking about someone. A warning for any tourists visiting Germany. Do not use an ethnic slur. They are still sensitive about what happened in the past. Do not say the word ‘Nazi’ either. They will admit there was a nice refined gentleman named Hitler. Anything about him is western propaganda. Don’t believe me? Go to the Chamber of Commerce at the Brandenburg gate and ask for directions to some Nazi sites.

“They are Brown people,” Herr Schmidt corrected me a little testily. Cannot even use the word ‘Black’ with them.

“Well David,” my answer to the question of what’s happening in America, “Your ‘Browns’ are destroying our cities. Minneapolis, Seattle, the city you like so much, San Francisco, my mother’s favorite city, Baltimore, Detroit, places like that, now look like Berlin did in nineteen forty six.”

“Yes, I do have see such things on news,” David answered, “das ist immaglich.” (that’s unbelievable)

“So tell me David, how are you people coping with this virus?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Our economy has been destroyed. No business going on anywhere. As many people out of work as in nineteen twenty nine. People are being kicked out of their apartments. More homes being foreclosed than during any time in the past. We call it ‘lock down.’ No one can go out any more. Everything is closed. And people outside their house have masks on, Looks eerie. How about you, what is your foreclosure rate?”

“Foreclosure?” “What is that?”

“It’s when a bank takes a house because the people inside cannot make the payments”

“No” David answered, “I not have hear about any” “And wht you mean by word “Mask?”

“To cover your face, so you cannot spread germs.”

“Auch mein gott! laughenlich.” (ridiculous)

“You mean you people are not wearing masks?”

“No.” “I just come back from Norway. There not either.”

“Well David, I’m so sorry to disappoint you like this, I know how much you and Didem love to visit America. Not only is it not the same country but is now too dangerous. Sadly, the number of people that are making it too dangerous are not very many. The vast majority are normal good Americans that need to suffer the stigmatism brought on by the few. But at least I do have a little good news for you. Your beloved Browns are coming around in droves. They realize how they have been used and manipulated for politics and votes. I want you to look at You Tube. A young Brown girl will walk you through Baltimore. You will see what Damascus and Beirut look like. Her name is Kimberly Klacik. She is running for office. I want you to donate to her campaign. Well, since you are so fond of America, I will not need to ask you. You will want to. Can you spare, say, ten thousand dollars?”

“Nateerlich” (of course) “If you say so”

“No no David. Not because I say to. Just watch the video. You will want to. In fact, I’ll bet you make it twenty thousand. And she is not alone. There are many more. Another young Brown beauty name of Candace Owens, look her up also, they have given us such hope that we will finally get a good honorable Brown President after Trump. They are a new breed. They are not the usual deceitful power hungry politicians. There is an Army Colonel named ‘West’ that would make the best President we ever had. He will shut the rioters down in a hurry. And then, maybe you will be able to come over for a visit. But for now, we have a political problem. The two parties are at war. They have long forgotten the principles this country was founded on. They cannot even see there is too much of a track record to argue about anything. Every single city in America, I have not read the exact number, maybe a hundred and fifty, that are run by democrats, is in shambles. Bankrupt. The number of homeless. Decay. Poverty. Crime. Every city run by Republicans is flourishing. The people have money. Like you people. The city in good shape. Well kept up. One city in Georgia went way off to the right, crime went down to zero zero. So now the whole population can no longer ignore it. Politicians can no longer spin their way around the facts. Don’t take my word for it. Listen to my two new girlfriends. Yes David, they are my girlfriends. I’ll take either one. Ha. Like I have a chance. I can dream can I not? In the meantime, while I’m waiting for one of them to call me, tell Gauby I’m coming over. Miss her very much. Very anxious to see her. Tell Brigita also. Auf weidersahn.”

That is precisely, word for word, right down to the last syllable how our conversation went. Germans are fanatically meticulous about being certain every word they say is honest and truthful. So I can comfortably believe Mister Schmidt. However, I will be there in a week or so and see it all for myself.

I wrote that a few weeks ago. Have not been to Norway, but cruised around the Middle East, Austria and Germany. Did not see a mask. Am a dreamer anyhow. Thought about looking for Kimberlie’s number to ask her out on a date. By some kind of luck, I can have vivid dreams. Just kidding of course. No one can deny she sure is terrific. Imagine, that girl just might save our country.

I told an employee at a Flying J truck stop about my latest experience. He merely said; “they are not having an election in November are they?”