Three Great Gambling Stories

 At the behest of long time blog reader and friend, MMinWa, I thought you might enjoy three of the greatest gambling moments of my life. Please allow an introduction and disclaimer.

I started gambling on golf at age 12 and continued on for the next 50 years. I managed to lose a semester's college tuition playing two card guts when I bet the pot with a pair of queens and someone at the table turned over a pair of kings. I have gone completely broke on at least three occasions in my lifetime with no visible way of bailing myself out. This is where my disclaimer comes in.

Gambling is all about math. The people who offer gambling opportunities understand this concept well. They have an insurmountable mathematical edge with which they will beat you bloody. In horseracing, the track/house edge can be as high as 30%. In sports parlays, the house edge is 25% or greater. In straight proposition betting, the minimum house edge is 10%. Casino table games rely on math as well giving the house a small to large edge depending on the mathematical skill of the player. Games like Keno, Wheel of Fortune, slot machines, and lotteries are for math challenged idiots. 

That's the way it is. Gambling is an insurmountable mountain with the exception of two situations. One of those situations will be one of the stories I tell you about today. The other is what I refer to as a "spot play" which is an infrequent situation wherein some incredible angle injects itself into the potential wager. One of those situations currently exists between the Memphis Grizzlies and the Dallas Mavericks of the NBA. Memphis simply can't beat Dallas the last two years and although on paper Memphis looks like a better team, they get their ass handed to them every time they meet. Now that might change if Luka Doncic is benched or injured but sans that line up change- Dallas gets my wager until the angle evaporates.

In short, gambling is a waste of time and money. Fortunately, 50 years of this worthless pursuit has led me to the front row of some of the zaniest stories ever witnessed. These are all very true stories. I saw them and I brook no bullshit. I could probably come up with a hundred of these stories but I have cherry picked these three because they were particularly insane and defied all odds.

The Great Roll

In the late 80's, the best card room in Vegas was probably the Las Vegas Hilton. They had about 35 tables and this was where I first saw Phil Hellmuth when he arrived in Las Vegas. The dealers liked him and he was a genuinely nice guy. You can see what 35 years of card playing can do to someone.

At any rate, I think it was sometime in the fall of '87 when I became involved in one of the greatest crap rolls of all time at the Las Vegas Hilton.

I had busted out of the poker game and when I went to the casino cage with my remaining 30 dollars worth of chips, the line was so long I said screw it. I went to the pit to blast off my remaining chips or so I thought.

I wound up at the craps table. The minimum bet at that table was 5 bucks so I just took my remaining chips and placed the 4,5,6, 9, and 10 in a bet we call 26 across. The point was 8. 

The dice rollers or "shooters" were three young, well dressed, black guys which I believe were from Hawaii. They had the dice. And the greatest roll of the dice I have ever witnessed was about to begin.

The shooter probably rolled at least 10 numbers that I had bet before he made the 8. I remember having about 100 bucks before he made his point so maybe he hit my numbers even more than that. Maybe 13 or 14 numbers excluding 2,3,11, 12. The black guys were "pressing" or doubling all their place bets like mine. So I started doing the same thing.

After at least a half hour had passed, I had 5 or 6 hundred in chips. By that time, I had 25 or 30 bucks on every number. The table was so crammed we were all forced to stand sideways. The casino was getting pissed and the pit bosses were all gaping at our table. People clamored to get into the game but there was no room. The casino strung one of those velvet ropes around us and barred anyone else from getting into this game.

But the real story were those three black guys. Each of them had 5000 dollars, the table limit, placed on every number. So when the shooter threw a 4, each of them received 9000 dollars or 27,000 dollars plus whatever they had bet on the field or the hard ways. It was insane. I could not see how much they had but after an hour- they had to have had a million dollars. They had to chip up to the highest denominations and the table actually went broke. The had to get more chips, at least twice from the vault. The black guys had racks of chips under the table where drinks and ashtrays normally go.

Paying the table sucked and was very slow. It took the craps dealers about two minutes to pay off all the bets before the next roll of the dice could occur. By this time, the pit bosses were becoming assholes. They slowed the game. They grabbed the dice and twirled them between rolls. One of them, an attractive brunette, was actually inventorying chips as I caught her staring at every person's chips and writing amounts down on paper by position. 

When the roll finally ended, I had won 1500 bucks. I was the small chipper on the table by far. There is not a doubt in my mind that the Las Vegas Hilton lost a couple million dollars on that nearly two-hour roll of the dice. When it finally ended, the players at that table knew we had been involved in something miraculous. Some 35 years later, I have never seen anything like that.

As an epilogue to this story, the Las Vegas Hilton fired every employee on the shift that day. This resulted in a long running lawsuit that eventually saw each of one those employees receive 2 million dollars. It took a few years.

God Loves Drunks and Fools 

The following year after the great roll, I was trying to get a seat at a low limit poker game at the Palace Station. The games were full so I wandered out in the casino to find something interesting while I waited for a seat to open after putting my name on the list. I sat at a slot machine right behind the 21 pit and I noticed a middle-aged Mexican guy sit down at an empty table. It was midafternoon.

He had clearly been drinking but I didn't think he was drunk. He bought into the game for 500 bucks. I didn't realize I was about to see another crazy run at the table. The limit was 2000 at this game.

He bet 200 dollars on his very first hand and was dealt 21. He then bet 500 and received another 21. Wow, this is starting to look interesting. He was up 1000 dollars in two hands. He ordered a drink. He bet 1000 this time. I think he just won that hand. Soon he was betting the table limit. Every hand he got seemed to be a 20 or 21. It was an insane run of cards. 

When the cocktail waitress came back- he tried to tip her 500 bucks. The pit boss stepped in and refused to let her accept the tip. Eventually they let her have 75 bucks or three green chips.

This guy's run continued. The pit boss knew this could not continue. They asked the player if he wanted to raise the limits. He said yes and they raised the limit and changed the limit sign to 5000.

He won a few more hands and at his very highest, I think he had something very close to 45,000. In 20 minutes, this guy had turned 500 bucks into a small fortune. He was starting to get drunk and I think he was on his 4th drink- the turnaround time on a guy tipping 75 bucks a drink is about 30 seconds. The cocktail waitress nearly ran back to this table. The Federal Express of cocktails.

Unfortunately, at 5000 bucks a hand, the drunk guy simply didn't know when to quit. When he split 7s for 10 grand total, against a dealer's 9, I knew the end was near. Still, I think he could have left with 25,000 or so but he didn't. In 10 minutes and before they called my name, this guy had lost everything. I will never forget the smug look on the pit boss's face. What a shame.

I often wonder when he went home that night, or perhaps the next day, whether he told his wife "Sorry honey, I had a bad day and lost 500." 

When the Sheep Eat the Wolves

I have so many stories that it's hard to pick just one. Do I tell em about the autistic kid in Tucson or the horrible beat I saw a guy take on a 1500 college football bet? After mulling it over- I landed on this story. Every once in a while, the sheep eat the wolves. This is one of those stories.

Each year, sportsbooks offer what are called "futures bets." These are bets on sports teams to accomplish certain feats. For instance, you can bet on whether a professional baseball team will win the National League pennant or whether they will win the World Series. These odds can range anywhere from 1000-1 to 9/5 depending on a team's record, talent, and opponent. The odds generally change quite a bit as teams are eliminated from contention. That is- when the sportsbook remembers to change them. One day they didn't.

I used to play cards with a little old guy who is still with us and well into his 90's now. He is in the poker hall of fame. I'll call him Dave because that is his name. He is a sharp guy, always looking for any angle to make a buck. He generally makes small sports bets usually 20 bucks or so. Well, until this one day.

I noticed him continually circulating through the sports book, making 500 hundred-to-1000-dollar bets. This was a huge deviation from his normal betting pattern. So, after making another big bet, I took him aside and asked him what the fuck are you doing? Just like that.

Dave explained to me that the year before, before the AFC and NFC championship games in professional football had finished, the sportsbook forgot to take down the futures bets or change them after the divisional round. He said he had made a small killing before they realized their mistake. This year he said he was ready. He had 12 grand with him.

The AFC championship game was between the New England Patriots at plus 225 and the Indianapolis Colts at plus 285. These were the odds to win the AFC championship before they won their respective games. Instead of adjusting the odds or taking the bet down, they left those bets up.

This meant for every 100 dollars you bet on the Patriots you would receive 225 dollars plus your 100 dollars back. The same was true with the Colts. If the Colts won- you would receive 285 bucks for every 100 you wagered plus your bet back.

You could not lose.

Dave bet a total of 12,000 on these two teams. That was 6,000 on each. All I could muster was 4,000 and so I circulated through the betting window making smaller bets so that the employees wouldn't notice. I alternated between cashiers. I managed to get 2000 down on each team before running out of money. I had a friend, a multi-millionaire friend, but could not find him- or I might have sold my house and bet it all that day.

I was kind of worried that they would catch this. The tickets were date and time stamped. I figured at the very worst, the gaming commission would declare the tickets dead and return our money.

That never happened.

The next week, we were in the poker room, Dave and I. Rooting for the Colts of course. Unfortunately, Brady the G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) and the Patriots won.  

I collected 6500 dollars minus my investment for a 2500-dollar payday.

Dave nailed down 7500 bucks for his efforts minus expenses. Strangely, the following year, Dave said the sportsbook immediately took down the futures betting after the divisional round was over. 

It's not often that the sheep get to eat the wolves. But it sure was fun that day.

 

Alive, One Year Later

 On September 30 of 2021, I was admitted to our local hospital with covid 19. I was released on Oct. 17. I was unvaccinated and remain so.

I wanted to tell my story on behalf of all the people who died and those of us who narrowly survived. 

On March 11 of 2020, my wife and I had just returned from Las Vegas. We had been staying at the Wynn and went to dine at the buffet on the evening of the 10th. They had placed a stand with hand sanitizer on it near the entrance to the restaurant and employees were serving up portions of food rather than allowing patrons to do that. Nobody had masks on. Not yet.

That was when I realized that covid was going to be a giant pain in the ass. 

We returned home the following day and quarantined ourselves. I began to read about covid all over the world nearly every day. I looked at pre existing conditions, mortality rates, read other countries accounts, and dutifully wore my mask when we ventured out. 

My two covid sins. I was 60 years old and 35 pounds overweight. Otherwise, I was in pretty good shape. I have always been on the heavy side due to years of weightlifting when I was younger. I still managed to walk a few miles every day without too much effort.

In the summer of 2020, I realized two things. We were not going to be eligible for the vaccines when they first became available. Secondly, I began reading accounts of doctors in South America who were using Ivermectin with a great deal of success. Ivermectin had been around for 40 years and was safe. I also started reading accounts of doctors in the U.S. using Hydroxychloroquine (Trump used this) and Ivermectin. I found the FLCC website and forwarded some video to my doctor. My doctor prescribed Ivermectin for my wife and I. I also added Vitamin D and zinc to my daily intake. I stored the Ivermectin. That would be my first mistake.

I had hernia surgery in late November 2020. I took a covid test before surgery and tested negative.

In late 2020, local government started opening up various age groups and allowing those groups to get the vaccine. Thinking that I was fully prepared, I passed on getting the vaccine. To be honest, I don't trust anything our government does any more. Time and time again, they have proven to me that they are generally incapable of performing any function that actually benefits society at large beyond the NTSB. Politicians and the deep state work on behalf of the U.S. aristocracy. Just look at the tax code and the military industrial complex and our never-ending war machine. Big pharma? List of withdrawn medications, which were once FDA approved. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_withdrawn_drugs

It took 50 years or so but the United States earned my distrust. They are consistent if nothing else.

I should also mention that I bought Ivermectin for horses at farm stores. 

Around September 24th, I made the big mistake. We went to look at a custom Road King motorcycle listed for sale. The owner of the bike came out of the house, coughing like crazy. I even asked him if he had covid. He said, "I don't have that shit." We kept our distance. He finally quit coughing and my big mistake- I went into a toy hauler he had for sale. It was in that enclosed space where I think we got our dose of covid.

We left for Montana two days later. My wife was getting the chills badly and showered 4 or 5 times a day. I didn't have any symptoms until the day we left Montana, about 6 days later. My temperature was 99.6. I took my first dose of horse Ivermectin. I took 5 doses in 5 days but by day 5 I was in pretty bad shape. My fever was around 101, we were both lethargic, and my oximeter said my oxygen saturation was 83. I fell into the bathtub and could not climb out. We have a nurse in the family and she told my wife to take me to the hospital.

I don't remember too much after that. I remember a giant security guard bear hugging me out of the car and into a wheelchair. I spent the first two days on my stomach and high flow oxygen. It wasn't enough. After a day and a half, one of the doctors roused me and said they wanted to put me on a ventilator. However, I'd seen the 85% death rate in Texas for people on a ventilator. I refused. He told me my life was a coin flip. So, I relented. I woke up ventilated in the ICU.   

The next nine days were the worst days of my life. Strapped to your bed with a hardware store down my throat. One tube went into one nostril and into my lungs. In the other nostril, a tube fed me through my small intestine. I had catheters in both ends. IV's and a heart monitor. Your mouth is always semi open, and I was dying of thirst. You cannot move. You cannot communicate. It's like some horrible movie where you are bound and gagged. Every once in a while, a nurse would come in and rip open the tube into my lungs. I'd be coughing, sometimes uncontrollably, on the verge of choking. Alarms ringing. You can't get up and go to the bathroom.

On day 7, I had had enough. I felt ok. I focused on freeing myself from my fabric bindings. It took an hour or so, and one sprained wrist, but I reached down my throat and extubated myself. I pulled that shit out. My wife shot out of the room and led the cavalry charge of doctors and nurses back into the room. The last thing I remember before they knocked me out and intubated me again, was a doctor asking me if I wanted to die.

Two days later they took me off the vent. The pain was so bad in my wrist from my escape attempt, that I could not sleep. I asked for enough pain meds to knock me out. They gave me that and actually let me sleep through the day for the very first time. 

Another week in the hospital and then they released me. I was in awe how debilitating this ordeal was. I could barely stand. Nurse Ratchet would not let me leave the last day. This was some hateful, lefty, kind of nurse displaying her passive aggressive tendencies. I still remember her name.

A month of forced walking and oxygen came next. I managed only 100 yards the first day. But I continued to work hard. Today, I'd say I am 90%. I have lost some lung capacity and I get winded doing simple tasks like mowing the lawn. But I am here. 

Today, I'm a little bit angry. I'm a little bit angry because I know in my gut that this was a lab created virus in a city with a lab that creates viruses. It nearly killed me and did kill some of my friends. Who benefitted from that? The bankers and big pharma. They stole billions selling us the "cure" to their virus.

I'm angry that there was no investigation. No justice. I am angry that our government wasted billions  and trillions and pushed another lethal concoction called Remdesivir.

I'm angry at the idiot minions, mostly liberal, for victim shaming those of us who contracted this horrible disease. I'm angry they've never apologized for their fearful, misdirected hatred, and the obvious failures and deaths associated with those horrible "vaccines."

I am angry at the cover up of vaccine injuries and deaths. I am angry that they are forcing this poison into our children.

I am angry that I spent 3 weeks in hell fighting this. 

I'm angry that the liberal minions backed an idiot President who was all too happy to fire and dismiss people for simply exercising their human rights. If they had their way, like Hitler and the jews, FDR and the Japanese Americans, and this time the Australians- we'd have all been put in concentration camps. Co-exist my ass. 

But I'm grateful because we smoked all these cowards out. 

And I am so very grateful for God, my family, and my fellow critical thinkers. People who can actually think for themselves. 

In the age of such vast deceit, it's hard to see clearly. But you must. Your life may depend on it.

That's what I've learned, one year later.

 

It's Time To Protect Yourself

 About 10 years ago, I bought 5 ounces of gold for about 6000 dollars. Today, gold closed at 1668 dollars an ounce. That means my 6000-dollar investment is now worth 8340 dollars.

Did I make money? The answer, quite obviously, is no.

For many years, I used to ask friends and family a simple question. Where does money come from? 

Nobody knew the answer. I used to get all sorts of crazy answers. The U.S. Mint. The bank. My employer gives me checks. I don't know.

When I told people that money was loaned into existence, they rarely ever asked me a follow up question. The topic just didn't appeal to them nor did they seem too interested in listening to any explanation from me. I'm ok with that. 

In the early 70's, runaway inflation began in earnest. From 9% in '73, to 16% in '74, to a staggering 24% in 1975. That is a cumulative 49% rise in prices in 3 years.

To be fair, those were the inflation rates for the UK. In the U.S. the dollar was the reserve currency, allegedly backed by 8,000 tons of gold nobody has seen for 70 years. Inflation rates, around 10% smoothed per year, persisted from '72 to '80.  

Please try to remember that if you have 10% inflation for 8 years, it is cumulative. You will be suffering from an 80% rise in prices. Prices generally do not go back down once inflation is stopped. They just level out.

When I was 12 years old, I remember an old man in the checkout line at Bernie's pharmacy in Butte, Mt. I was buying a 10 cent Butterfinger candy bar. He told me that one day that Butterfinger would cost over a dollar. I thought he was nuts. That was 1973.

I wished I had been more curious. I wish now that I would have asked him why. But I was a kid, not too inclined to listen to random old men. Not unlike those people I used to question about where money came from. Not interested.

You know what scares me? We are just at the beginning of this inflationary event. The FED Reserve Bank is cornered. Based on the current inflation rate they should have already jacked up rates twice as much as they have. Inflation doesn't just magically stop on it's own. The central banks create it with excessive, cheap lending and only they can stop it.  People are still taking out 6 and 7% loans here. The creation of money continues. People simply don't remember the history from 50 years ago. 

I remember. The 70's were bad. If we are in for a repeat of the 70's then I think it will be worse this time. We are at the beginning and looking for help from political cowards like Biden, Yellen, and Powell. 

Imagine sitting there with 50k in the bank and watching it's value erode. You get some paltry interest rate that doesn't come close to compensating you for the dollar destruction that is going to occur over the next 5-10 years. Are you prepared to watch your 50k worth of 2022 dollars get cut in half? That's what's going to happen. The best CD rate I could find yesterday was 2.75 percent. Laughable. A 2.75 interest rate still leaves you with a 7% inflation loss. Just for this year.

In 2004, my truck cost 30k. In 2022, my truck costs 200% more. 90k. That's dollar destruction.

I have plenty of reserves. Generators, fuel, food storage, water, prescriptions for 2 years, plenty of guns and ammo. Although I'm not sure you ever have enough ammo. I have plenty of silver and 125 pounds of copper.

How do you protect your money against a government and a central bank hell bent on destroying what's left of our currency?

Gold. 

At 1670 dollars, gold is a screaming buy. I used to allocate 20% of short term net assets (cash) to gold. I am currently upping my personal allocation to 40% gold. That's right. Remember that 50% rise in inflation that Britain experienced in from '73 to '75? Half of your buying power wiped out in 3 years time. It happened here in the 70's and trust me, Jay Powell is a steer. He doesn't have the nuts Paul Volcker had. Volcker raised the Fed funds rate to 20%. The prime rate went to 21.5%. 

You want to stop inflation? You have to aggressively hike rates and stop lending dead in it's tracks. Our central bank can't do this. Can you imagine having to finance 31 trillion in debt into that kind of scenario? The U.S. will be completely exposed as the bankrupt country that we are. We couldn't service the debt interest into those kinds of rates. It would be in the trillions annually.

Now do you understand why they hired 87,000 IRS agents?

How much money did my gold make? Nothing. I haven't sold it. If I did I'd be trading it for the same worthless currency I am trying to protect myself from. I never bought gold to make money. I bought it for currency destruction and I am currently buying more. Don't worry about the 100 dollar premium you'll have to pay the brokers per ounce. A hundred bucks will seem like nothing- especially if they quit selling gold. I've seen them run out.

Remember gold is inverse of the USD/inflation. The more buying power is lost with the USD- the higher the price of gold will climb.

When the zombie minions of America finally wake up and realize that they only way they can insure their savings against currency destruction is gold- the second greatest gold rush in American history will begin. It would be nice to see you get there first.

It's the only way you can protect yourself. It's an insurance policy against a government that has been screwing it's citizens since the Vietnam War.

Here's a great piece from Alistair Macleod. He explains it in great detail. I stole his 1970 UK inflation numbers. https://www.goldmoney.com/research/gold-has-never-been-so-attractive

The Big Ugly is Here- Living Through the Law of War- A Must Read and a Must Watch

 For many years now, decades actually, I have had a friend named "Compleat Patriot."

Compleat Patriot has tried to explain to me that the United States has been organized as a corporation operating under various forms of law. I must admit I have never fully understood what he has been trying to tell me. 

Today I finally discovered what he has been trying to explain to me all of these years. My sister sent me a link.

This makes sense. Please watch. 38 minutes. Clif High, Predictive Linguistics.

Brighteon

87,000 IRS Agents Are Coming for You

 Let me introduce this topic with an IRS story of my own. 

About 5 years ago, my wife cashed in an annuity that had reached maturity. It was a tax free annuity which was purchased with already taxed money. In other words, it was like a savings account where you deposit money and the only tax bill you receive is on the interest.

About 18 months ago, I get one of those soft audit letters in the mail informing me that we owe 14 thousand dollars in back taxes and penalties. We did not report it as income because it wasn't.

So then we have to dig out the 1099. In the box where tax amounts are written in, it says "no tax." I forward that to the IRS thinking that will be the end of that.

About 3 months later, the IRS sends another letter. This is an agree or deny letter for 4000. The IRS says, you are right but you should have added it as income for the year.

To that I replied, "If I close out a savings or checking account, do we list that as income as well?"

This forces me to contact my accountant, refile that year's taxes, and wait for the next round of financial abuse. A couple months ago, I get a letter telling me that my tax liability is ZERO. This is what I had to go through. 

Please note that I am an outspoken MAGA style conservative, now criminalized by President Biden in the Red Sermon. Is that a coincidence? Hard to say.   

This is what I do know. The IRS can perform some sort of half ass audit on me via the mail. It was my duty to prove my innocence. I have no idea of what the process is exactly, but I do know that no strangers showed up at my door. No agents.

Now I'm no expert in these matters for sure- but if the government was only going to audit billionaires and mult-millionaires, I figure they could do that with an additional 500 agents. 

So what do they need the additional 86,500 agents for?

For you. 

They've already hijacked your deductions for out-of-pocket medical expenses, losses due to casualty and crime, mortgage interest is virtually nonexistent, and you can't even deduct state or local taxes that you are forced to pay. They are coming after charitable contributions next.

They are going to look at your bank accounts, your transactions, your lifestyle, and your Obamacare. They are going to pay home visits. look at books, look at businesses. You have a cash transaction business like a laundromat, car wash, auto repair, or RV park? Best of luck.

Deductions, business expenses, depreciation, offshore and foreign accounts, Obamacare subsidies.

You have a wife and kids, house, with no visible income? Plan on a visit.

This is an army. It is 40,000 people stronger than the TSA when they launched that bureaucracy. 

I honestly can't believe that people are not discussing this. This is an opening shot across the bow from a government that has literally spent us into oblivion. And the only collateral this government has is it's ability to squeeze the collective nuts of every American here and abroad.

All that remains is whether they are going to target conservatives or everyone.

This government makes the Mafia look reasonable.

Pidgeon and Me

 I met Pidgeon in my very early 20's, shortly after becoming a sheriff's deputy. He was the investigator for our police department.

Pidgeon probably shouldn't have been a cop. He was a funny man, kind of impulsive, and prone to do things outside the box of normalcy. He was a straight shooter and honest. He swore like a sailor, another trait I admired deeply. I think that's why I liked him so much. I think I found someone even more impulsive than I was. Latching onto Pidgeon for a role model cop/mentor probably wasn't the best choice I ever made- but that's what I did.

Very early on in my patrol career, Pidgeon and I went to a burglar alarm. It was a very audible alarm installed in a jewelry store. It was absolutely shrieking so loud that it was damaging my ears. Pidgeon it seemed, was having the same problem I was having as we waited through eternity for the owner to arrive. Pidgeon finally had enough, took matters into his own hands and decided to simply destroy the alarm and the wires connecting it to the audible speakers. It worked. No more shrieking.

The owner showed up about 15 minutes later, none too happy with Pidgeon's handiwork. That afternoon, I found myself in the Sheriff's Office explaining what happened. The Sheriff pretended to be angry with us and ultimately the office paid for the repair of the alarm system. I think that incident cemented our friendship. 

For the next four years, Pidgeon and I worked together. It was probably the best four years I spent in law enforcement. I learned a few things about Pidgeon. He hated enforcing traffic laws and was quite proud of the fact that he had the same 25 ticket, ticket book, that he had been issued when he came to our department 7 years earlier. 

I also learned that you did not point your finger at Pidgeon. That set him off. One day at an early morning domestic dispute, there was a foot or so of freshly fallen snow. The angry man half of the relationship emerged from the cabin before we could get to the front door. The angry guy pointed his finger in Pidgeon's face and told us to leave. Pidgeon stripped the car keys from the guy's hand and launched them about 25 yards away in the deep snow. "Go find em!" Pidgeon yelled.

Another time, we were looking for a stolen truck which was being operated by a man from France. He had quit his ranch job and run off with the owner's truck. We scoured the valley and eventually found the guy at a restaurant. We needed the keys to the truck. The French guy came outside and pointed at Pidgeon. I don't recall what he said. Pidgeon immediately became incensed and read this guy the riot act. Pidgeon said we were taking this truck, asked for the keys, and told the guy to get the fuck out of there.

Most of us would have been happy to leave and escape jail. Not the French guy. He kept asking Pidgeon what his name was. As though the French guy was going to call our boss and complain. He kept repeating Pidgeon's name back, calling him "Peeejon." Exasperated, Pidgeon just looked at him and yelled, "tell em I am the old motherfucker with the glasses!" They guy never called our office.

Trying to intimidate Pidgeon always ended in failure. It just wasn't a good move.

A couple of years before he retired, Pidgeon was driving past a scuffle between an unruly drunk motorist and one of our younger cops. Pidgeon hit the brakes of his truck, jumped out in a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops, and grabbed the guy so that our bewildered patrolman could cuff him.

Pidgeon was a notorious speeder. I lost count of how many times he had been stopped. Once he got a ticket from the neighboring sheriff's office by the Sheriff himself. He was pissed. Pat wasn't a hypocrite- he didn't ever give anyone a speeding ticket. I think he was angry that the neighboring Sheriff gave him that ticket.

Now Pidgeon had to drive through this guy's county, a very vacant one, once a week about two in the morning. Pidgeon had a second job, a delivery job. When that employer bought a van with a 440 engine, Pidgeon knew that would be the last ticket he would ever get in that county. About a year later, Pidgeon was driving back home from the delivery job at about 15-20 over the speed limit. The Sheriff saw him, pulled out, and began the pursuit. Pidgeon mashed the accelerator to the floor and outran him- losing him at the county line. 

I laughed out loud when he told me the story. Vintage Pidgeon.

I helped emcee Pidgeon's retirement party. I couldn't tell many of the stories because there were many children present and any good story about Pidgeon had plenty of profanity. But I told a few of them.

Sadly, Pidgeon passed away about a year and half ago.  I spent a little time with him but not nearly enough.

I often think how Pidgeon shaped my life as a police officer. In our time, we didn't have a policy manual to guide every single decision we did or what we could say. We used whatever judgement we had and tried to make the best decisions. Often we did this in a vacuum by ourselves. Pidge locked up a few bad guys. He let many minor offenders go. He had a sense of right or wrong and he saw the big picture. If you could get past the salty language, a minor eruption and some bad judgement here or there, Pidge was a pretty good guy. 

He was a character. I don't see these kinds of people anymore. Today, we have these cardboard cutouts for cops, guided by policy on every matter. Thankfully they still give the cops the same discretion we once had- that discretion has contributed quite nicely to my nearly clean, driving record since retirement. Pidge would have liked that.

 

The Unvaccinated

 

“Even if I were pollinated and fully vaccinated, I would admire the unvaccinated for withstanding the greatest pressure I have ever seen, even from partners, parents, children, friends, colleagues and doctors.

People who were capable of such personality, courage and critical ability are undoubtedly the best of humanity. They are everywhere, in all ages, levels of education, states and ideas. They are of a special kind; they are the soldiers that every army of light wants to have in its ranks. They are the parents that every child wants to have and the children that every parent dreams of having. They are beings above the average of their societies, they are the essence of the people who have built all cultures and conquered horizons. They are there, next to you, they look normal, but they are superheroes.

They did what others could not, they were the tree that withstood the hurricane of insults, discrimination and social exclusion. And they did it because they thought they were alone, and believed they were the only ones.
Banned from their families’ tables at Christmas, they never saw anything so cruel. They lost their jobs, let their careers sink, had no more money … but they didn’t care. They suffered immeasurable discrimination, denunciation, betrayal and humiliation … but they kept going.

Never before in humanity has there been such a “casting”, now we know who are the best on planet Earth. Women, men, old, young, rich, poor, of all races or religions, the unvaccinated, the chosen of the invisible ark, the only ones who managed to resist when everything collapsed.
That’s you, you passed an unimaginable test that many of the toughest Marines, Commandos, Green Berets, astronauts and geniuses could not withstand.
You are made of the stuff of the greatest who ever lived, those heroes born among ordinary men who glow in the dark.”

-Author unknown