Ted’s essays

fell off the wagon

I strayed.

I behaved so well for so long.

I suppose it was inevitable. Nobody could keep it up forever.

I spent May 29th as a 97%-er.

I worked like the dickens for political solutions. I pulled The Libertarian Party of Idaho out of the dark corner in a Boise pub and into a world with a growing number of enthusiastic activists… only to find myself dragging the rowboat across the desert while people jumped on board to cheer me on.

I ran for governor of Idaho twice, comported myself very well on state-wide televised debate… to get about 6,000 votes or roughly the same as Marvin Pro Life who ranted at the audience that they were all going to hell.

I ran for Ada County Sheriff, offering the salvation of a constitutional sheriff, widespread citizen posses and a bastion against the looming police state. Nearly an unsupported solo effort shocked us all with 41,000 votes… but it would have taken over 80,000 to win… and to have useful support in the community to pull off the dream.

Okay, I can’t fix Metropolis, even an Idaho metropolis. So we retreat to very rural Montana. Let’s at least work to save ourselves. We begin building a pantry with the little discretionary funds we have.

… and I dive in again. I’m in my second term as Bitterroot Amateur Radio Club president.. and have seen growth in membership and meeting attendance, but way too little in radio activity participation, emergency planning and community communications support.

Close friends throughout all of this have frequently suggested I back off. Let somebody else lead. Take care of myself. Quit working so hard to save the world. Etcetera.

In the world of preparers, sheepdogs, oath keepers, informed jurors and other activists, we know ourselves as the III%-ers. That is the rough estimate of the number who are paying attention and willing to take whatever actions necessary when the fight for liberty goes full-on. It is also the estimated number who won liberty from King George’s most formidable army in the world 245 years ago.

So I stay focused, practical, pragmatic with my eye constantly checking the far horizon. Live for tomorrow. Today is too important to squander on inconsequential gratifications.

My reference group exists primarily online at The Mental Militia, Oath Keepers, Survival Blog and places like that, along with a small amateur radio network.

Nose to the grindstone.

Long view.

All while the 97%-ers live like tomorrow can bring no surprises, the excrement cannot possibly hit the rotating ventilator and if our trusted rulers were going to do bad things their news media partners would surely tell us all about it.

For the last half-year I have been vaguely promising myself that if The End Of The World As We Know It (TEOTWAWKI) has not happened by the closing day of Jade Helm 15 this September, I would treat myself to some stuff that I would enjoy in the everyday, regular world.

All the while, people around me who COULD EASILY afford truckloads of beans, rice, wheat, dried vegetables, seasonings, canned meat, solar systems, radios, hand-tools, post-emp vehicles, and so much more are all counting on the stores, electronics and energy running uninterrupted for the rest of their lives.
That may turn out to be literally quite true, but a whole lot shorter span than they anticipated.

I was doing fine constantly chipping away at, and continually refining my priority list…

Atlas ShruggedUntil a half-price deal on the BMW R1150RS came along at a moment when I was tired of working to hold up the weight of the world and happened to have just enough cash to buy the bike… instead of some really important stuff.

We are all wondering “What happened?”

I’m still trying to figure it out.

I mean I really did want some emergency radio gear.

Our pantry would have LOVED a boost.

There is A LOT of food we don’t have and should.

The Beast is a few hundred bucks from READY.

The solar system needs upgrading.

I think it is a lot like love.
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Timing.

Pheromones.

Instinct.

Emotion.

Last Friday I followed my heart.

Regrets?

Sure. A lot of little stuff I can’t do now.

Wish I had chosen otherwise?

Heck No.

I’m gunna party with the grasshoppers for a while.