Vladimir Putin seems to be in a bit of a pickle. Well, not just one, really. But the one I’m talking about is a personnel problem. He’s running out of people to “volunteer” for the suicide mission he still blithely calls a “special military operation.” In a country with an estimated population of 145 million souls, how is this even possible?

Well, first you suffer nearly 50,000 casualties in the first 18 months of what was supposed to have been a simple snatch-and-grab operation of a few days in February of 2022. Then you announce a mobilization of another 300,000 reservists, causing tens of thousands of potential conscripts to flee the country rather than offer themselves up as sacrificial lambs to a cause they don’t believe in. And to top it off, you dismantle the illegal but very effective Wagner Group of mercenaries, whose members had previously been the most successful (para)military force fighting for the Russian side in Ukraine.

Then, to try to make up the shortfall, you mess with the laws governing military conscription: you extend the maximum age from 27 to 30; you make it easier to serve draft notices by allowing them to be served electronically rather than in person; and you increase — tenfold — the fine for failure to report for duty after receipt of draft notice. And finally, in one stroke of absolute genius, you deal with the law that says that conscripts may not be sent to serve outside of Russian territory by simply claiming four areas of Ukraine as now belonging to Russia. Brilliant!

But it seems that even that isn’t enough. Because now word comes out of Cuba — small, distant Cuba! — that there have been instances of human trafficking being committed by a network operating from Russia. Not trafficking of women or children. No . . . these are young men, not coincidentally of fighting age. According to a September 5th report by CNN’s Christian Edwards and Patrick Oppmann:

“Cubans living in Russia and ‘even some in Cuba’ had been trafficked and ‘incorporated into the military forces taking part in the war in Ukraine,’ the Cuban foreign ministry said Monday in a statement.”

”The ministry gave few details about the alleged trafficking operations, but said that authorities were working to ‘neutralize and dismantle’ the network.”

There have been reports from Cubans on social media stating that “they had been tricked into joining the war effort and mistreated when they refused to fight.” (CNN was not able to independently verify those allegations.)

How very, very clever. Take a long-time ally — one presently suffering its worst economic crisis in decades; supply it with desperately-needed food and crude oil; and promise it additional foreign investment. Then lure its impoverished young men — some from the streets of Cuba itself and others living in Russia — with offers of money, and even Russian citizenship.

There is precedent for this. Cuban “mercenaries” have fought for Russia in the past, notably in South Africa. But, according to Sergei Radchenko of the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS), this one “sounds like something very different” because of the indications of coercion being used.

It’s not hard to understand: offer a starving person food and shelter, and he’ll be yours forever . . . regardless of how short “forever” may be. Just reread Oliver Twist . . . Charles Dickens truly understood human nature.

Understandable, yes. And also despicable. Who’s next? What other countries are “friends” of present-day Russia, ripe for the picking? And for each of them, I have one bit of advice: “Be afraid; be very afraid.”

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/7/23

By George, I think I’ve got it — some items from the news that aren’t designed to plunge you into the depths of despair. And from the regular daily news columns at that! Are you ready? Then let’s go . . .

For all you sports fans out there: An all-time record for women’s college volleyball was set last week when the Nebraska-Omaha game drew a crowd of 92,003 fans to Memorial Stadium in Lincoln. In fact, this officially broke the world record for attendance at any women’s sporting event, the previous record-holder being the 2022 UEFA Women’s Champions League match between Barcelona and Wolfsburg, with an attendance of 91,648. By the way, the Nebraska Huskers won this one, 3-0. Good job, ladies.

*. *. *

And for the UFOlogists in the room: It appeared that someone had sent us a question from outer space a few days ago, when a large, bright question mark appeared in the night sky. Scientists have explained it as two or three separate galaxies caught by the James Webb Space Telescope in the act of merging, which apparently happens from time to time and creates oddly-shaped masses visible from Earth. Well, maybe so. But I have to wonder whether it wasn’t just E.T. asking for instructions on how to fix a malfunctioning GPS. If you’re still out there, little buddy, I suggest you phone home . . .

*. *. *

In the “what are the odds?” category: One lucky lady from Manchester, New Hampshire (my home town, of all places!) bought a painting at a thrift shop for $4, because it reminded her of the work of the famous American artist N.C. Wyeth. She had been shopping for some frames she could reuse, and this painting was stashed against a wall with some mostly damaged prints and posters. In one of those twists of fate that most of us only read about, it turns out that it really is Wyeth’s oil painting “Ramona,” and is expected to bring the lady as much as $250,000 at auction this month. Good for you, ma’am; use it well.

*. *. *

For a big “so what?” finish, how about a little unintended humor from The Donald . . . who is always at his funniest when he’s trying to be clever. This one is his newest marketing ploy, which almost everyone has seen by now: the t-shirt emblazoned with his mug shot (you know — the famous one of him scowling like a petulant child), and bearing the caption “Never Surrender!’ . . . for which he plans to charge $34, all proceeds to go into his PAC for the benefit of his 2024 campaign. The irony is that the picture was taken at the moment he was in the act of . . . care to guess? . . . surrendering to the authorities in Atlanta! It would be a lot funnier if he weren’t such an embarrassment to himself, his family, and the country; but it’s still good for a little sardonic chuckle.

*. *. *

And finally, the best news of the day, though it didn’t make the headlines: I woke up again this morning. At my age, that’s truly something to celebrate.

Have a great day, everyone. 🥰

Brendochka
9/6/23

That’s what then Vice President Dan Quayle did in 1992, when he tried to correct a New Jersey sixth-grader’s accurate spelling (p-o-t-a-t-o) by adding an “e” on the end. And just that quickly, he went from being the No. 2 guy in the White House to a cocktail-party/lunch-table brunt of everyone’s sarcasm. As if he weren’t already . . . but that’s a whole other story.

So whom can we ridicule today? Let’s see, now . . . maybe for first-grade arithmetic failure, rather than spelling? How about Russian Minister of Defense Sergei Shoigu? He’s already been ridiculed enough recently, and should be fairly adept at taking it on the chin. But his earlier problems merely arose from his disastrous management of Russia’s war against Ukraine, and his toxic relationship with the late Yevgeny Prigozhin . . . no bid deal. This time, though, he really screwed up.

He publicly added 6+6, and came up with =11.

No, it’s true; he really did. And he made the further mistake of saying it to a group of journalists following his boss’ — Vladimir Putin’s — press conference in the resort city of Sochi, Russia. As reported on Telegram, he is quoted as having said:

“Yesterday, as a result of a serious attack on the Robotyne front, they lost six tanks. On the other front, in Bakhmut our guys skillfully destroyed six more vehicles with new UAVs. So yesterday just in terms of armoured vehicles [they have lost] eleven tanks.”

I wouldn’t want this guy teaching my kids . . . and I sure as hell wouldn’t want him running my war. He should probably be updating his resume, don’t you agree?

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/5/23

From the village of Turginovo —just over 100 miles from Moscow — to Vladivostok in the farthest eastern reaches of Russia, is a distance of approximately 9,300 km., or some 5,800 miles. That’s just about double the longest route between the east and west coasts of the United States. And it is the measure of Vladimir Putin’s travels this week, if all goes according to plan.

Putin was in Turginovo on Friday, September 1st, reportedly “to see places associated with his family.” Yeah, whatever. It has now been announced that he will be traveling to Vladivostok for a far more significant purpose: to host the Eastern Economic Forum scheduled to take place from September 10-13 at the Far Eastern Federal University in Vladivostok. Also scheduled to attend the Forum is North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, who will likely travel the 687 km. (a mere 427 miles) by armored train from Pyongyang. The two men are expected to meet privately during that time, and it has been suggested (but not confirmed) that Kim may also travel to Moscow following the Forum. I presume that would depend on the outcome of their first meeting.

. . . which, not incidentally, is for the purpose of doing a little horse trading. Only it’s not horses they’ll be discussing. It is, rather, weaponry. Heavy-duty, lethal, wartime weaponry. According to reportage from the New York Times, Russia will be seeking artillery shells and anti-tank missiles needed to pursue its war of attrition (Russian translation: “special military operation”) in Ukraine, while North Korea would love to have some of that legendary Russian technology for satellites and nuclear-powered submarines. Oh, yes . . . and by the way, “Mr. Kim is also seeking food aid for his impoverished nation.” [New York Times]

So I have to ask: How is it that a country that cannot feed its own people can afford to produce — and give away — artillery shells and anti-tank missiles, and then presumably build satellites and nuclear submarines once that technology is available?

Now ask yourselves: If you had only enough money to buy food for your children or build a fence to keep your neighbors out, would you let your children starve, or would you just learn to say howdy to the folks next door? If you consider that a difficult choice, then I don’t even want to know you.

But North Korea’s — or Mr. Kim’s — moral values are not the real issue here. It’s the relationship between Messrs. Kim and Putin that is most worrisome.

Now factor in China’s President Xi Jinping, and we have a triple threat we cannot afford to shrug off. Historically, the relationship between Russia and China has run hot-and-cold even throughout just the past half century. But right now it’s very warm, and very threatening to the rest of the world. Put the three leaders on the same side of the table, and you’ve got the triumvirate from hell.

So what to do about all of this? Don’t ask me . . . I just lie awake nights, thinking about these things, and then share my thoughts with any and all who will listen. I’m afraid I’m not qualified to offer solutions. But oh, how I wish I were.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/5/23

I know, I know — it’s usually the other way around, with Trump emulating his idol Putin. But, as reported yesterday by Reuters, it appears that Vlad has borrowed a page from The Donald’s textbook on how to report the attendance at public appearances.

So here’s the story as it appeared in the Sunday (Sept. 3) Yahoo online news report, crediting Reuters. The headline read, “Putin thronged in visit to Russian village.” Wow! I hope his bodyguards were able to hold back the throngs before they heaped too much adoration upon him.

The report continues: “Dozens of villagers thronged and cheered Russian President Vladimir Putin during an unannounced visit on Friday to a community near Moscow where he has ancestral ties. Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov told Russian media that Putin visited the village of Turginovo to see places associated with his family. Video posted by local news sites showed dozens of residents flocking the beaming president after he emerged from a car in the village square at dusk.”

Dozens?!! When did “dozens” become a “throng”? Maybe at a Trump rally, but otherwise . . . ?

Anyway . . . During the stop, which lasted only a few minutes, one woman apparently managed to get in a word, wishing him “good health, strength and good luck,” and thanking him “for coming to see us. For remembering us.” So the forgotten throng really loved him, right?

The article continues, “Residents told him they needed more and better housing.” Aha! Now we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty: they came looking for help. And, as reported by Reuters, he replied, “Yes, yes, I agree. We’ll do everything gradually. My best wishes on the start of the school year.” End of visit.

Imagine how exhilarated he must have felt after such a rousing reception! How fulfilling to know that that one lady actually wished him well. And that the good citizens of that little village have placed their faith in him to provide more and better housing. What a guy!

Just switch the language from Russian to English, add a ridiculously long red necktie, and you’ve got a typical (though admittedly scaled-down) Donald Trump rally, inflated proportionally for public consumption. The main difference is that Trump wouldn’t bother with such a tiny village — not enough voters.

*. *. *

Being the curious sort, I Googled the village of Turginovo. It does exist; it’s about a two-hour drive northwest of Moscow. I didn’t see any demographics, and the only photos on Google Maps are six different views of one church, another of the nearby river, and one of a large bird sitting in a large nest atop a large dead tree. I’m guessing that’s the town mascot. Sadly, to this day there are many such poor villages scattered throughout Russia, seemingly stuck in the 19th Century, and in desperate need of assistance. But where is the help to come from? And when? Oh, yes . . . “gradually.”

And here’s an interesting little side fact. The town is situated in the Tver region. If that sounds vaguely familiar, it’s the region where a plane carrying Yevgeny Prigozhin and nine other people came crashing to earth on August 23rd, in a field near the village of Kuzhenkino. Coincidence? Perhaps . . . but an eerie one.

*. *. *

So, there we have Vladimir Putin’s most recent (reported) public appearance before an admiring throng of his adoring supporters. Perhaps I have it wrong — quite possibly, the overblown style of reporting actually originated in Russia and was appropriated by Trump, not the other way around. It doesn’t really matter, though. Close friends should share, shouldn’t they?

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/4/23

I wrote on Facebook today: “Poor Yevgeny is probably not yet done decomposing, nor Vladimir Putin relaxing in the wake of all the fuss over the attempted mutiny and that most “unfortunate” plane crash . . . and already the political pundits are musing over the possibility of others out there who might be angry enough to take up where Yevgeny left off. Take some deep breaths, Vlad; this does not appear to be a good time to be caught napping.”

The pictures below are said to be of Prigozhin’s grave site. It is identified in the press as being in Porokhovskoye Cemetery in Saint Petersburg. But when I tried to locate that cemetery online, the only thing that came up was a Moscow cemetery with a similar name: Pokrovskoye. Most of the press photographs were subject to copyright and unable to be copied here, though I was able to capture the two below. And I did see that that very large monument (seen here from the back) features an enormous Russian Orthodox cross, with a carved Crucifix on the front, and writing that I believe to be in the old Church Slavonic alphabet, and thus indecipherable to me. But it is certainly impressive.

Recent reports are that there are many, both in and outside the military, who are supportive of the war in Ukraine, but critical of the way it is being run. These same people have recognized and applauded Prigozhin’s successes as contrasted to the poor showing of the regular Russian troops, and are becoming increasingly angry at his “removal.” Many also — despite the relentless propaganda to the contrary — accuse Putin of having engineered the “accident” resulting in the deaths of Prigozhin, six other members of the Wagner Group, and three flight crew members . . . accusations that mirror those of much of the free world. Some of those supporters were seen to have attended his funeral. Putin, of course, was noticeably absent.

So what Pandora’s Box did Putin open when he chose to deal with his old friend in the only way he knows how? Will he now have cause to regret not having taken care of business in a quieter, less spectacular manner . . . one that might have offered him some measure of deniability? Once more, we can only stay tuned for the next chapter of this ongoing Russian soap opera.

Until next time,
Brendochka
9/3/23

Slight exaggeration, folks — I’m fine. Just trying to drop a few unwanted pounds, and feeling that all-too-common side-effect of dieting: a craving for everything. So, of course, I’ve been torturing myself with memories of the best meals ever . . . and especially the ones I’ve savored in various parts of the world.

My favorite cousins (they know who they are, back there in Virginia) love eating in restaurants. Nothing wrong with that. What has always fascinated me, though, is their ability to remember every restaurant they’ve eaten in, in every locale they’ve visited, and every meal they’ve had in each place. Amazing. While I, on the other hand, only remember the very best.

In Washington (D.C.), where I’ve spent most of my life, there would be too many to list. When I first moved there as a teenager with my family, Washington was still a rather small, provincial city, with very little to recommend it as far as restaurants, theater and night life were concerned. But it has expanded nicely in all those areas since then. Still, the three favorites that stand out in my memory are all from years past, and — sadly — no longer exist. Maybe that’s why I still long for them. They were Costin’s Sirloin Room, The 923 Restaurant, and a little place called Yummy Yogurt: as diverse a collection as one could imagine.

Costin’s was the elegant place in which I passed out and hit the floor in the middle of dinner on my 30th birthday . . . but I’ve already covered that charming incident in an earlier chapter. Their food was the real star of the show: an enormous slab of prime rib of beef done precisely as ordered (medium rare for me) and so tender it could be cut with a fork; the perfectly-baked potato heaped with sour cream; a crispy fresh salad; and a slice of fluffy rum pie to top it all off. A gastronomic orgy, to be sure!

The 923 was named for its address: 923 Fifteenth Street, N.W. It was below street level, situated beneath a bank building, and had a darkish atmosphere conducive to lingering. I only ever ordered one thing from their menu, because it was so good I never wanted anything else: Liver Bavarian. (All you liver haters, please stop gagging — it’s not polite.) It wasn’t a big slice of meat, but tender strips, in a magnificent brown gravy with onions, served atop a pile of wide noodles. Simple, satisfying, and obviously memorable, because I’ve never managed to forget it. I’ve tried recreating it at home, but without success.

As for Yummy Yogurt, it was just what the name implies: a place that served up a wide variety of delicious frozen yogurt treats. But they also had a lunch counter with hot foods, and my absolute favorite was a taco salad served in one of those big, fluted taco shells, with layers of ground meat seasoned to perfection, red beans, chopped tomatoes and lettuce, shredded Cheddar, all topped with a great mound of sour cream . . . OMG, I’m drooling!

*. *. *

But enough about Washington — I’ve still got a lot of cities to cover.

Cape Cod: No contest; even the big, crispy friend clams took second place. Because at a waterside restaurant in Barnstable called Mattakeese Wharf, you could order a large baked lobster stuffed with the most delicious, rich, moist cracker stuffing, which in turn was host to a dozen (I counted them) large, tender scallops. It was enough food for a group, but I managed to down the whole thing — I just couldn’t stop. I did, however, barely taste whatever the side dishes were . . . and wisely skipped dessert.

Alaska: Salmon, salmon everywhere. But the hands-down best was the salmon filet roasted over an open fire in a clearing by a wooded area supposedly populated by an unknown number of bears (we didn’t see any). It didn’t matter that it happened to be a cold, rainy evening; we were under canopies, the company was delightful, and the food was phenomenal.

London: Sorry, my British brethren, but there really was nothing memorable about the food; it was fine, but not special. Maybe I just didn’t hit the right places. I did, however, have a really good breakfast — after dancing at a disco until 3:00 a.m. — in a 24-hour diner where a customer slam-dunked a waiter for some unknown reason, and they quickly made up like gentlemen while the rest of the customers simply went on eating. That was fun.

Budapest: A local attorney took us to a neighborhood restaurant outside the tourist area, where he chose the menu. I could have done without the steak tartare (not fond of raw meat with a raw egg mixed in); but the inevitable goulash earned its reputation that night: tender beef and vegetables, savory gravy, warm, fragrant, and completely soul-satisfying. Also loved the accompanying Gypsy musicians . . . and I mustn’t forget to mention the incredible Viennese pastries at Cafe Gerbeaud another afternoon. Loved Budapest then; very sad about their Prime Minister now. But that’s a whole other story.

Prague: Oh, where to begin? In my three months there, I was introduced to at least a couple of dozen fantastic places. But the one I frequented most was the simplest, most rustic of all, that I labeled “the chicken place.” It was outside the center of the city, in a log house nestled in a thinly wooded area. In the center of the huge room was a long, blazing fire pit, and over the fire was a spit that held at least a dozen juicy, dripping chickens. As often as I went there, the staff quickly learned that that was what I always wanted to order. And there was yet another group of Gypsy musicians, who singled me out for serenading when they saw that I loved their music. And I was a really good tipper. The meal cost the equivalent of about $5.00; the tips were way more.

Berlin: It’s not just one dish that stands out, but the entire meal. Our group from the cruise ship (we had ridden the train down from the Baltic port of Warnemunde) was treated to a pre-arranged buffet luncheon in a large downtown restaurant in a business complex. It was a perfect example of “go big or go home” — an enormous buffet table with every kind of German food imaginable. And it wasn’t just the quantity that was outstanding; each and every dish was superb. I can still taste the sauerbraten, dumplings, and sweet-and-sour red cabbage. Wunderbar!

Copenhagen: In one of the restaurants at Tivoli Gardens, I had the best filet of sole I had ever tasted . . . up to that time. I didn’t think anything could beat it, but then there was . . .

Stockholm: During our tour (from the same cruise), we had free time for lunch on our own. We wandered into a square near the Royal Palace, and found several restaurants. One had the most people seated outside, so we chose that one. We had to sit indoors where it wasn’t so crowded, but that was fine. And it was there that I learned that, no matter how good something is, there can always be something better. In this case, the filet of sole again. The folks of Scandinavia sure do know their fish, and what to do with it!

Tbilisi (Georgia): A fascinating place, with a slightly dangerous vibe. And fabulous food. I went with the Chicken Tabaka one evening — a popular local dish that somehow made chicken seem exotic. It’s the seasonings, whatever they are. And then we watched the restaurant owner add up the bill for our whole group on an antique abacus. That was in 1988; I assume they’ve upgraded since then . . . but maybe not. It was part of the charm.

Moscow: I was busy working there, and didn’t eat out much. I did find that the McDonald’s burgers were way better than in the U.S. — locally-sourced everything, nothing frozen. But the best meals were those prepared in the homes of my Russian friends. There is truth in the adage that the most important ingredient in any dish is love. There is nothing, in my experience, like Russian hospitality and the sincere warmth of the Russian people. (The government, of course, is something else again.)

*. *. *

That’s enough food for now. Suffice it to say, while I haven’t had many bad gastronomic experiences in my travels, I have had quite a few winners. I feel truly sorry for people who hesitate to travel abroad because of the strangeness of the customs and the food. They’re missing one of life’s greatest joys.

And now, friends, it’s time for my low-cal lunch. Oh, well . . .

TTFN,
Brendochka
9/3/23

Well, there we have it: the solution to the question of what brought about the supposed change in Dmitri Medvedev. And that answer is that he never actually changed at all. He has always been Putin’s puppet, the ventriloquist’s dummy: reacting to the pulling of the strings, the words being put into his mouth by the clever puppetmaster.

You’re probably thinking that this is no surprise; we’ve always known who was in charge. During the four years that Medvedev served as president (2008-2012), it was well known that he did so at Putin’s pleasure. But in those days, he played the part of the “good cop.”

What seemed strange was the apparent change in his public persona. Recently he has peppered his hawkish speeches with undisguised threats of nuclear warfare. Was he stepping up his own game? Or was he perhaps losing his marbles?

Then, today, his boss came forward with his own overt threat: the general director of Roscosmos (Russian Space), Yuri Borisov, announced that the Sarmat ICBM has been deployed: “put on combat duty” were his exact words. And you know as well as I do that that did not happen without the express authorization of Vladimir Putin himself.

Sarmat — also referred to as “Satan II” — was first introduced to the world by Putin in 2018. The system “is capable of carrying at least 10 nuclear warheads and is intended to replace the R-36 ICBMs that are known by the NATO reporting name of Satan.” (Quoted from Brie Stimson of Fox News, September 1, 2023.) And now it has been deployed: the system that Putin once said would make the world “think twice.”

Well, isn’t that special? Just what the world needed to hear.

Happy weekend, everyone,
Brendochka
9/2/23

Let’s take a little (most welcome) break from international politics and diplomacy today, and have some fun.

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that I was going to try reviewing CNN’s “Good Stuff “ column on Saturdays in search of possible inspiration for my own jottings. The well of good news has been a little dry lately, but I did spot one item that caught my fancy last week. It was about the Tree of the Year award, the brainchild of the good people at the Woodland Trust in Lincolnshire, England. According to the article, this year . . .

“ . . . thirteen of the UK’s very best trees will compete for the title. These old trees are pillars of their communities (literally), having survived bombings, blight, arson and the creeping effects of industrialization. One shaded picnics held by Queen Elizabeth, and another solemnly presides over a World War I monument. Some are more than 500 years old. No matter who wins, they are all Very Good Trees.”

I think that’s lovely . . . I do. Odd, but lovely. And of course it started me thinking of other things that might be appropriate, or just plain fun, as subjects to compete for similar awards (if they don’t already exist). And off we go . . .

1. Stupid Thief of the Month Award: I remember one from years back that occurred in Washington, D.C. (and no, I’m sorry, but government officials do not count as thieves for purposes of this award). In the case I recall, a man broke into a young woman’s apartment, not to harm her, but simply to demand money. Not having much cash available, the woman very cleverly offered to write the man a check, just to get rid of him. And he took it . . . giving her his full name to write on the check! I don’t have to tell you what happened when he went to her bank the next day to try to cash it. You really can’t fix stupid.

2. Best Fire Hydrant Award: Since it would be difficult to poll the neighborhood dogs on this one, our principal criterion for judging would have to be our own observation of how many canines use a specific hydrant in a given period of time. It’s a stinkin’ job, but somebody’s gotta do it. And the look of satisfaction on this pooch’s face makes it all worthwhile.

3. Worst Blind Date of the Year Award: There must be plenty of candidates for this one, particularly in this age of online dating sites. In fact, I wouldn’t have to think too hard to remember a couple of my own from way back when. And on the subject of dogs, I do recall the blind date who actually showed up with his dog: a lovely pup, about the size of a Doberman . . . who only understood French! All evening this guy spent more time talking to the dog than to me: “Asseyez toi! Asseyez toi!” And of course we couldn’t take the chien into a restaurant or a movie theater, so it was pretty much some carry-out food on a park bench, and a couple of hours of sightseeing in a city I already knew very well, stopping at every other tree for a sniff and a leg-lift. Definitely a first and last date.

I doubt we’d have much trouble finding judges for this category, since we’d be able to guarantee them a boatload of laughs in payment for their time. So start thinking, folks.

4. Worst Parking Job Award: We’d have to break this one into two categories: parallel parking and front-end parking. And special demerit stickers would be given to the ones who parked over the line part-way into a handicap parking space. I’d like to be one of the judges for this one, please (pictured below). And how on earth do you suppose the driver got out of the car?

5. Funniest Sign On a Business Award: There are some really creative people out there, as I’m sure you’ve seen, and this would be another one that would be fun to judge. If you’d like to sponsor an entry, just send in your pictures. There’s no prize, but — again — a lot of belly laughs.

6. Neighborhood Exhibitionist of the Year Award: You know, the couple who don’t close their blinds when . . . yeah, them. And sorry, no picture for this one.

7. Prettiest Snowflake of the Storm Award: That’ll keep the judges busy for a while!

8. Most Irritating TV Commercial Award: I’m not sure we could ever have a consensus on this one — there are just so many. And finding judges to stay awake through all of them would be nearly impossible. So perhaps we should just skip it.

9. Most Campaign Signs In Front Yard Award: We’re coming up to an election year, folks, so get ready!

10. Worst-Dressed Boy and Girl In School Award. When I was in high school, everyone wanted to be the best-dressed, the star athlete, the smartest . . . The best at something. Today it seems to be just the opposite. Have you looked at the way the kids are allowed to leave the house today? Well, whatever . . . Let’s at least give them props for imagination.

*. *. *

Okay . . . that should be enough; I’m sure you’ve gotten the idea by now. Please feel free to send in your entries for more categories; this could be the start of its own website.

Just having fun . . .
Brendochka
9/2/23

First it was Turkey, and now Hungary: two members of NATO, sworn to defend and protect each and every other NATO member country in times of peril. So what the hell has happened?

Viktor Orban. That’s what’s happened.

We’re already well acquainted with Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the President of Turkey since 2014, and his up-and-down relationship with Vladimir Putin, which seems to swing according to the direction the wind is blowing on any given day. His rear end is firmly planted on the fence, one foot on the NATO side and the other on the Russian side, always ready to jump in what he decides is the better direction for his purposes. And because of Turkey’s strategic location between East and West, not aggravating Erdogan has become a sort of NATO board game . . . albeit one with very real, very high stakes.

But now there’s another wild card on the board: Viktor Orban, the Prime Minister of Hungary. Though he’s held the office since 2010, it’s his recent outspoken stance on Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine that has brought him forward into the spotlight.

“What?!! Hungary?” you exclaim. “Didn’t you just say they’re also a member of NATO?”

Yup, I certainly did. And they’re a country that received an enormous amount of support from the United States and other Western nations as they struggled to get back on their financial and political feet after the fall of communism in the late 1980s and early ‘90s. I was there in Budapest myself, for a conference on doing business in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, in the fall of 1990, when they were making great strides. But it seems as though the lessons of that era have been forgotten by Mr. Orban, as he seeks to placate Vladimir Putin by urging the West to make a “deal” with Russia totally against the interests of Ukraine.

No more Mr. Nice Guy, it seems.

As reported by Bloomberg: “The West should make a ‘deal’ with Russian President Vladimir Putin on Ukraine’s new security architecture, which shouldn’t include the return of Crimea nor membership in the NATO military alliance, according to Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban.”

Further, in an interview with Fox News host Tucker Carlson — and as published on X (formerly known as Twitter) — Orban again said: “We should make a deal with the Russians on the new security architecture to provide security and sovereignty for Ukraine but not membership in NATO.” He feels that the return of Crimea to Ukraine is “totally unrealistic,” and that “the best chance for peace was for former US President Donald Trump to return to power and for him to end military support to Ukraine.”

All right — I am now, officially, gobsmacked!

But I shouldn’t be, considering that those words were spoken by a man who has already cut deals with Russia on energy despite existing sanctions, and has referred to Putin as a “model on which he [Orban] has built what he calls an ‘illiberal democracy’ that opposes the EU’s multi-cultural values” (as reported by Bloomberg).

Apparently, his country’s membership in the European Union means as little to him as does its NATO membership. But again, not surprising. Consider the history of the Fidesz party (Hungarian Civic Alliance), which he has led since 1993. It was formed in 1988 under the name of “Alliance of Young Democrats,” as a center-left and liberal activist movement that opposed the then ruling Marxist-Leninist government. And now it describes itself as a right-wing populist and national-conservative party . . . with a leader who thinks nothing of cozying up to a Russian president whose brutal, dictatorial regime daily becomes more reminiscent of the days of Josef Stalin himself.

*. *. *

It’s times like these that I’m even happier than usual not to have chosen politics or diplomacy as a career, because I could so easily start World War III in this type of situation. My first instinct would be to kick Orban’s butt — and Erdogan’s — right out of NATO. But, aside from the fact that the NATO Treaty* apparently does not contain a provision for outright expulsion of a member, that would strategically also be the absolutely worst thing we could do.

So I shall have to leave the politicking to the politicians, and the diplomacy to the diplomats. And pray that they know what the hell they’re doing.

Just sayin’ . . .

* Interestingly, the NATO Treaty was first drafted by a team headed by my late boss, Walter Sterling Surrey, in 1949, when he was an attorney with the U.S. Department of State. And FYI, he also had been the chief legal draftsman of the Marshall Plan the year before. I am blessed to have worked with him later, from 1979 until his death in 1989, and to have learned so much from him.

Brendochka
9/1/23