This really is a confession because I wanted to write early this morning as usual, but then I got sidetracked by the Senate Judiciary Committee hearing on the Kash Patel nomination as FBI Director. We are on a 30-minute break, and then more questioning after lunch.
I’ll try to remember what I originally wanted to write about, but honestly the downright dishonesty of the witness is staggering. Committee members are quoting him directly, but then he claims not to have said and done things that they question him about. In this day and age of appearing on podcasts, I think these political lackeys should be very afraid of making their ongoing lies even worse by appearing under oath and denying their own words.
My reading material has been very worthwhile, though. I finished Justice Jackson’s memoir, Lovely One, and would recommend it highly to anyone who is interested in a quintessential American story. And now I have started Dr. Fauci’s memoir, On Call, and particularly like that his story starts as a “Brooklyn Boy.” My darling Mum married another Brooklyn Boy, and the tales of Tony’s childhood there make me remember more about her husband, Jack.
I am also reading Fiddlers the last of the 87th Precinct police procedurals by the author Ed McBain (who had many pen names) and who was another City boy. Within my pile of books, I also found one that he wrote describing his bout with cancer called Let’s Talk, which he dedicates to the love of his life who he met when he was 68. The hard copy I have was published in England, and I haven’t had a chance to check out whether there is an American version. Having had cancer myself, I look forward to reading about his journey (although he died at 78).
And now I had better have a bite to eat before this afternoon’s dissembling.
RESIST ALWAYS
TTFN
Ah yes, we belong to the lucky IHCC... "I had cancer club." In December 2011, my doctor at the VA advised that my blood reading was suggesting there might be prostate cancer. It took the VA seven months (July 2012) to do a biopsy. Sure enough, cancer. I was 61 years old. I attended one or two classes about 'watchful waiting" which made me wonder... as long as the cancer was still in the prostate and had not metastatized, what on earth is the point of watching it spread to the spine, the lungs, the brain, etc? The head of urology in fact went against the program and muttered privately, amid a cluster of us at the class, that she would opt for operation. That's all I needed to hear. My wife and I were just reminiscing about this. She is a retired RN and was there at the operating theater when the team were gathered around me, early in the morning, while I was starting to go under anaesthesia. The attending specialist said to me, for benefit of all twelve or more of us in the room including surgeons, nurses, and techs: "So, Mr. Cullen, what organ are we operating on today?" I was able to say in a clear, audible voice: "The Wurlitzer." Everyone in the room had a good laugh, including the surgeon, a Navy admiral and best in the region at DaVinci operations (they don't cut, they poke with needle thingies...) Long story short, we had a good laugh, and then I passed out. I woke up toward evening with no more prostate. That was in 2012. Ten years later, my VA physician sent me a note in July saying "Congratulations on 10 years cancer free." Yes, and that is a breath of freedom, let me tell you. It's now going on 15 years. The rest is just trivia. I feel very lucky and blessed. Thanks for bringing the topic up!
John T. Cullen JTC Sheep Heil!
johntcullen.substack.com
https://www.johntcullen.com
https://www.galleycity.com
MARA Make America Real Again
I have seen a recording of Sen Klobuchar in which she quotes Patel back to him only to be greeted by a wall of amnesia. Then in response to Sen Schiff he redefined the word “we” to mean something that did not include the speaker of the word.