Please don't "86" this one!

Eighty-six. What an interesting number. In food service parlance, ‘86’ means “We’re out of banana pie,” or “He’s out of here.”

So you might hear the sous chef shout “Eighty-six on the vegetable beef.” The tarbender might remark, “There’s Clifford again. He got eighty-sixed from here last night.”

Here’s Mr. Tommy’s Friday Letter Number 86.

Consequences

A few days ago, I had a telephone conversation with a beautiful young woman who lives in a Chicago suburb. We were discussing temptation and lies and consequences.

Here’s one of her anecdotes.

When she was a young girl, she and her friend Penny, a neighbor, asked the Mom if they could ride the pony. Yep, said Mom, but stay on Tressl Road, don’t go on the Groveland Road, because there’s too much traffic.

It was fun to ride all the way east to Groveland Road. At the intersection, temptation took over. There was the country store just a few hundred yards south on Groveland Road. Yum. A can of Coke would be delicious.

No sooner had they given in to temptation – disobedient to the Mom – than a cattle truck roared and rattled by.

Just as the Mom had anticipated, the pony spooked. The girls, dressed in their best summer-day-at-home outfits of cutoffs and halter tops, were tossed from the pony into the borrow ditch.

The borrow ditch had only that day been the scene of a weed fire. The girls fell into hot embers, black soot, barbed wire, half-burnt goat heads and broken glass.

The horse ran off up the road. The girls had to pick the glass and bullheads from their bare feet in order to pursue the horse.

Finally at home, bloodied, bruised, burned and frightened, they had to explain themselves to the Mom. Ah, temptation. Ah, consequences.

The protest

Fast forward a few short years.

Same beautiful young woman. Taking classes at nearby Idaho State University, she finds herself drawn into a student protest.

It was in those days that “no smoking” rules began to be imposed in public places. Smokers felt hurt and discriminated against, their “rights” violated. Smokers were summarily relegated to “fresh air” sites outdoors.

A television reporter with a camera came along and interviewed ISU students who were outside smoking – and protesting. Our beautiful young woman was among the most eloquent defenders of the protest cause.

When she got home that night, a relative telephoned to say, “Hey. You’re on TV! They’re interviewing people at ISU about the smoking ban!”

It was then that our young woman realized she had lied to her husband. She had told him she had quit smoking. Ooops.

“I was caught. I thought about changing the channel, but then I thought that might only make it worse.” They must have been able to work it out; they’ve been married close to 30 years now.

Consequences. Even a little lie can have big consequences. Giving in to even a small and venial temptation can have dreadful consequences.

Terrorism

In the late 1950s, a young man by the name of John Gilbert Graham had two problems: he was real short on cash; and he had a mother with whom he didn’t get along well.

Young John thought to solve these two problems with one criminal act. He took his mother to Stapleton International Airport and put her on a commercial airliner that flew over our little farm in Fort Lupton.

Young John obtained life insurance on his dear mother, a large-dollar policy purchased from a vending machine at the airport.

He also put a homemade time bomb in his mother’s luggage. As I recall, the timing was awfully close. The airliner crashed near Longmont moments after it passed over our home, killing lots of people in addition to John’s mother.

I think of John Gilbert Graham as “the father of airport security.” When I realize it is unlikely I will board a commercial airliner ever again, I think of John Gilbert Graham.

Think of the huge consequences of John’s temptation, John’s little lie.

Nowadays, normal citizens like you and me are “guilty until proven innocent” at any airport, all because of John the terrorist.

We blithely submit to body search, intimidation, coarse questioning, suspicion, X-rays. We’re even asked to disrobe. We get “wanded” by some dunce who’s getting paid minimum wage all because of that memorable pioneer, John Gilbert Graham.

No photo record

Speaking of dunces. Sure you read about the grandstanding European Bishop who claims there was no such thing as the Holocaust.

An extensive, well-researched photographic record exists. Though their numbers are dwindling with the passage of time, witnesses attest to the reality and extent of the Holocaust. The pictures back up their stories.

Hitler was actively trying to kill as many Jews as he could, throwing in mental defectives, the lame, and Catholic priests for good measure. But, due in part to the insistence of Dwight David Eisenhower, there are still records. Pictures. Proof.

Likely, you’ll agree that abortion is today’s Holocaust. Planned Parenthood took up where Hitler left off, trying to kill as many black babies as possible, with large numbers of other select fetuses thrown in for good measure.
Where, however, is Ike when we need him? Where will the photographic record be? Where will the proof be, when some loose-cannon pseudo-Bishop claims abortion never existed? Will a photograph of a dumpster full of fetuses be proof?

Having learned from Hitler, today’s experts in genocide are being sure not to leave very much evidence.

Word of the Week: Impediment. It comes from Latin, impedimentum, a hindrance. Today, impediment refers mostly to a speech defect, stutter, lisp, stammer. An impediment can also refer to anything that prevents a legal contract, as in a marriage contract.

Next week’s word: Decimation

Gripes? Complaints? Whines? Comments? Adoration? Puppy love? Reciprocal rant? Feel free to express yourself in the comment section below!