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May 1, 2026
Paul Petersen Ponders
A Few Random Ramblings
By Paul Petersen
The Bandera Prophet
…I HATE time change.
If I were to ever write a country song, it would likely be “Daylight savings time, I hate every inch of you!”
Attention, federal government: can you make up your mind? Texas politicians: how about a law that abolishes daylight savings time?
Or, at the very least, pick a time and stick with it. No more having to change our clocks!
I used to drive a Volkswagen, and I’d swear that the segment in the car’s manual for changing the time spanned five pages. That’s what you get when you over-engineer: instructions that are over-complicated (I have Germanic ancestry in my gene pool, so I can say that)…
…Since my last deer update, I’ve had to get my car patched up yet again. This time while driving to work, I accidentally ran over a dead deer. Not my fault: someone else had already hit it. Thank goodness for excellent auto insurance!
My late former father-in-law, Kim, would’ve gotten a great laugh over this latest mishap.
When we lived in Michigan, he called at 4:30 a.m. to tell us he’d hit a deer on the way home. In Michigan, if you hit a deer and the weather is below freezing, the police officer will euthanize it with their gun; you are then allowed to take the deer home to skin it, and then send it to a butcher for processing.
As Kim (an Eagle Scout) skinned the deer, my oldest son claimed dibs on the heart and liver.
I detest organ meat and consider offal to be awful, so I made no objections. The nearby feral cats eagerly helped themselves to the rest of the unwanted internal organs.
I wanted to know if the deer died from Kim hitting it with his truck, or if the cop had to use a bullet to decease the deer.
It came out instead as, “Was the deer dead when you hit it?”
For the rest of his life, whenever I returned from running an errand, Kim would always quip, “Did you hit any dead deer?”
…Someone recently didn’t like my Facebook comments about tightwad sports team ownership that drives teams into the ground. You don’t know anything about the bottom line of dollars and cents! They said, as if I could barely understand addition and subtraction.
(I got A’s and B’s in Algebra, Geometry, and Pre-Calculus…Back to the ranch!)
Perhaps, perhaps not. However, I do know that some companies will tolerate a bad business as a tax write-off. Perhaps this explains why the NBA keeps the WNBA alive even though the ladies’ league (which had recently been threatening to strike over demands for increased salary), has consistently bled red ink since it started.
That being said, here are the cruxes: when you try to save money by putting an inferior team on the field, you’ll lose more money as fans stay away and ticket revenue plummets. Instead of cutting payroll, maybe you should instead learn how to manage a business. Also, hire people who understand the game and know how to properly coach and train players. When your big free agent signing is a good-but-not-great player past his prime, you’re in trouble…
…Chuck Norris passed away at 86. Very sad. Norris lived a long life, but I often think how society needs far more people like him.
A story I read about him:
A man went goes into a bar and saw a stranger in his favorite seat. “Move. That’s my seat,” the man said.
The stranger moved immediately.
The man sat down, glanced at the stranger and saw his reddish hair and beard, and his eyes widened. “You’re…Chuck Norris!” he gasped
“I am,” Norris, no longer a stranger, said.
“You just got up and moved when you could’ve refused and kicked my butt,” the man said. “Why didn’t you do that?”
Norris replied: “What would that have accomplished?”
Norris made a new friend that day.
As for Chuck Norris “Facts,” here’s my all-time favorite: “A cobra bit Chuck Norris on the leg. After writhing in excruciating agony for five days, the cobra finally died.”…
…In 2002 while selling plasma in San Antonio, I encountered one of the most physically beautiful women I’ve ever met in my life. She told me she was originally from Iran; she immigrated to America by way of Germany.
“What made you decide to leave Iran?” I asked.
“Women are treated like dirt in Iran,” she replied.
I suspect that she shed no tears over the Feb. 28 death of Ayatollah Ali Khameini and is eagerly anticipating seeing Iran return to its green, white and red flag with the lion and sun superimposed on top.
[email protected]
If I were to ever write a country song, it would likely be “Daylight savings time, I hate every inch of you!”
Attention, federal government: can you make up your mind? Texas politicians: how about a law that abolishes daylight savings time?
Or, at the very least, pick a time and stick with it. No more having to change our clocks!
I used to drive a Volkswagen, and I’d swear that the segment in the car’s manual for changing the time spanned five pages. That’s what you get when you over-engineer: instructions that are over-complicated (I have Germanic ancestry in my gene pool, so I can say that)…
…Since my last deer update, I’ve had to get my car patched up yet again. This time while driving to work, I accidentally ran over a dead deer. Not my fault: someone else had already hit it. Thank goodness for excellent auto insurance!
My late former father-in-law, Kim, would’ve gotten a great laugh over this latest mishap.
When we lived in Michigan, he called at 4:30 a.m. to tell us he’d hit a deer on the way home. In Michigan, if you hit a deer and the weather is below freezing, the police officer will euthanize it with their gun; you are then allowed to take the deer home to skin it, and then send it to a butcher for processing.
As Kim (an Eagle Scout) skinned the deer, my oldest son claimed dibs on the heart and liver.
I detest organ meat and consider offal to be awful, so I made no objections. The nearby feral cats eagerly helped themselves to the rest of the unwanted internal organs.
I wanted to know if the deer died from Kim hitting it with his truck, or if the cop had to use a bullet to decease the deer.
It came out instead as, “Was the deer dead when you hit it?”
For the rest of his life, whenever I returned from running an errand, Kim would always quip, “Did you hit any dead deer?”
…Someone recently didn’t like my Facebook comments about tightwad sports team ownership that drives teams into the ground. You don’t know anything about the bottom line of dollars and cents! They said, as if I could barely understand addition and subtraction.
(I got A’s and B’s in Algebra, Geometry, and Pre-Calculus…Back to the ranch!)
Perhaps, perhaps not. However, I do know that some companies will tolerate a bad business as a tax write-off. Perhaps this explains why the NBA keeps the WNBA alive even though the ladies’ league (which had recently been threatening to strike over demands for increased salary), has consistently bled red ink since it started.
That being said, here are the cruxes: when you try to save money by putting an inferior team on the field, you’ll lose more money as fans stay away and ticket revenue plummets. Instead of cutting payroll, maybe you should instead learn how to manage a business. Also, hire people who understand the game and know how to properly coach and train players. When your big free agent signing is a good-but-not-great player past his prime, you’re in trouble…
…Chuck Norris passed away at 86. Very sad. Norris lived a long life, but I often think how society needs far more people like him.
A story I read about him:
A man went goes into a bar and saw a stranger in his favorite seat. “Move. That’s my seat,” the man said.
The stranger moved immediately.
The man sat down, glanced at the stranger and saw his reddish hair and beard, and his eyes widened. “You’re…Chuck Norris!” he gasped
“I am,” Norris, no longer a stranger, said.
“You just got up and moved when you could’ve refused and kicked my butt,” the man said. “Why didn’t you do that?”
Norris replied: “What would that have accomplished?”
Norris made a new friend that day.
As for Chuck Norris “Facts,” here’s my all-time favorite: “A cobra bit Chuck Norris on the leg. After writhing in excruciating agony for five days, the cobra finally died.”…
…In 2002 while selling plasma in San Antonio, I encountered one of the most physically beautiful women I’ve ever met in my life. She told me she was originally from Iran; she immigrated to America by way of Germany.
“What made you decide to leave Iran?” I asked.
“Women are treated like dirt in Iran,” she replied.
I suspect that she shed no tears over the Feb. 28 death of Ayatollah Ali Khameini and is eagerly anticipating seeing Iran return to its green, white and red flag with the lion and sun superimposed on top.
[email protected]