Like our newest Supreme Court Justice, I am not a biologist. It might be that none of the Supreme Court Justices are biologists. Most have law degrees. Some might have been English majors. I, personally, was not an English major. However, I did have Mr. Stewart as my 7th grade homeroom teacher and he stressed knowledge about English, including about pronouns, which are, you know, words that are, substitutes for, like names and stuff like that, in the noun category of grammar. Know what I mean? If you did not have Mr. Stewart as a teacher, perhaps some other teacher taught you about pronouns.
Let us brush up on linguistics and even language arts etc. He, she, and it are pronouns for an individual. They and them are plural pronouns. Mr. Stewart explained that plural pronouns are for more than one. Remember? Are you with me? Good, let us move on.
He and him are pronouns for males. She and her are pronouns for females. It is non-specific as to gender.
Here are two examples. He is a bull. I saw him in the pasture. She is a cow. I saw her in the pasture too. Now for the plural pronouns: I saw them in the pasture. They were both in the pasture.
I and me are singular pronouns to use when referring to myself. When I am referring to you without using your name, I say you. Oddly, you may be either singular or plural, like if I say all of you.
Therefore, when asked my pronouns, armed with the knowledge I have, I say I and me. Those are my pronouns but if you want to refer to me, then use he and him.
If an individual woke person says his or her pronouns are they and them, that person is mis-using plural pronouns in my opinion and showing that English was not the college major of such a person.
If y’all have any questions, contact Mr. Stewart at McMillan Junior High School in Omaha, Nebraska. They might be retired. Just kidding. He might be retired.
I don’t like to be a name-dropper, but maybe Ted Turner is one and you already read this story from his perspective. Actually, he might not have caught my name so as to be able to drop it. However, when we met, it was apparent that I made a really big impression.
Here is what happened.
Ted Turner has a chain of restaurants called Ted’s Montana Grill. He also raises bison. The restaurants serve bison meat, among other menu items. Several years ago, Miss Sugar and I attended the National Western Stock Show in Denver and hankered for some bison meat on our way home. We stopped at the Ted’s Montana Grill in Westminster, Colorado, which was very new at the time.
It so happened that on that very day and time, Mr. Turner was at his restaurant having a meeting with several of the ranchers who were raising bison and providing it to Ted’s restaurants. We had not been invited to the meeting but were seated at a nearby table. A good time was had by all.
At one point in the evening, I felt nature’s call to the restroom of the restaurant. (I chose the men’s room because this restaurant did not have a woke unisex restroom. I was glad.)
I won’t go into great detail. You will have to use your imagination to visualize what I am writing about in this particular paragraph. Anyhoo, I was standing at a porcelain thing attached to the wall by plumbing stuff, including a flusher, into which I was, you know, “going.” There was another such thing attached to the wall right beside the one I was using. Then and there, before I could finish, the famous Ted Turner came into the restroom and stood beside me and actually copied the activity in which I was engaged. We were doing the same thing at the same time in the same place. Like a brotherhood.
However, there was one difference. By necessity, I use two hands. Ted, on the other hand, used just one hand for the business at hand and placed his other hand on the wall above the, well, let’s just say it, the urinal.
As I have mentioned, we were not at a Burger King, but as the saying goes, “It takes two hands to handle a whopper.”
My mother sometimes asked me, “Where did I go wrong?”
I know where she went wrong. Willie Nelson clearly warned: “Mammas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys.“
For as long as I remember, documented by photos of me wearing a cowboy hat as a toddler, “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.“
In his movie, An Unfinished Life, Robert Redford was told, “You have watched too many Westerns.” I too have watched too many Westerns. Consequently, I make decisions based on what Roy Rogers or John Wayne would do.
For example, I have intervened to save more than one damsel in distress.
Harken back to the thrilling days of yesteryear, when I was ring-bearer at the wedding of an older cousin, Rox. (My parents were each the youngest in their respective families resulting in me having lots of older cousins).
When Roxie and Mardell got married, I was in first grade, age six. As part of the wedding party, I was invited to a pre-wedding picnic. There was probably a rehearsal dinner too, but this was a picnic in a park. As I recall, Rox was teasing his bride and chasing her around and she was screaming like girls do and he grabbed her. So, I did what I had to do. I socked him. Naturally, he went down, just like when Roy Rogers socked somebody.
Being much shorter that Rox, or Roy, my punch landed lower than punches in the movies land. Rox doubled over in terrible pain.
I was told, too late, that Mardell was not really a damsel in distress. She was just funning about. I think I taught her a good lesson about crying “wolf.”
I wonder how their honeymoon went.
P.S. For those of you who are concerned about permanent injury, Rox was able to father two sons, Rick and Brad. No thanks to me.
P.P.S. For an update on how I matured since age six, I refer you to: https://cowboylawyer.wordpress.com/2013/03/06/a-cry-for-help/
as well as
My hot trophy wife, Miss Sugar, is also known as Miss Texas. I call her that for good reasons.
One reason is that she grew up in The Republic of Texas. Another reason is that she actually was a finalist in the Miss USA pageant.
Therefore, I thought it was fitting and proper for me to order a Colorado license plate that says: MSTEXAS. See photo below.
Miss Sugar told me at the time that she did not want a license plate saying Miss Texas, but I got it for her anyway. She was right. I shouldn’t have done what I done.
A few days ago, Miss Sugar, aka Miss Texas, was driving her vehicle in, of all places, Loveland, Colorado. Turns out that Loveland is not that friendly of a town. Or, maybe it is tooo friendly.
Sugar was driving. I was a passenger. A police officer turned on the lights and beeped the siren on the police vehicle, indicating that Sugar should pull over. That was surprising because another car had just passed us at a high rate of speed, causing us to remark to each other when the police car turned on its lights that it was to go after the speed racer. Alas, we were wrong. The officer of the law wanted Sugar to pull over. We did not understand why the speeder was ignored, nor could we think of a reason to pull Sugar over.
I now believe the reason was curiosity. People speed every day, but the officer wondered what MSTEXAS looks like.
The reason given was that, supposedly, the stickers on the license plate are not fully visible. (I contend that enough is visible for a law enforcement officer to see the expiration is 4 of 24). What do you think? Are partially covered stickers a huge problem in Loveland? Is it such a huge problem that officers have been instructed to prioritize this as a more serious criminal violation than the actual safety hazard of speeding vehicles when a choice has to be made for the good of the community.
As it turned out, the police person did not issue an actual citation for the serious license plate sticker issue. Despite the lights and siren, in retrospect, the traffic stop was unnecessary. Lawyers call that a lack of probable cause.
Enough about Miss Texas. Now let’s talk about me. My modeling agency suggested that I get vanity plates for my 2000 Ford F250 pickup as a way to advance my career by drawing attention of the general public. The suggested plate would say HANDSOM (I can spell handsome but only seven letters are allowed).
No way! I don’t want every female cop pulling me over just to get a better look.
Blaming My Father