It’s dawn Sunday morning here in East Texas, and foggy like it gets in England's London Town. I'm sitting here at the keyboard Reminiscing about old friends and old times in Reno Town, so long ago. I spin my imaginary Ferris Wheel and you came up, old golfing buddy Kenny Ogle. You and I were a pair to draw to. So I decided to peck out a message to you, and send it by Pony Express. No, wait a cotton picking minute. They stopped delivering mail by Pony Express seventy years before I was born. Get out your store bought Chinese made calculator and you can figure out how young I am.

So why didn't you buy an American made calculator instead of that cheesy Chinese made one? That one costs less because it was made by almost slave like labor over there. Buy America made, like Sam Walton did when he founded WalMart. This would help Trump in his attempt to bring jobs back to America. Trump is going to fix all the unfair trade imbalances America has with every country we trade with. And did you see where Mexican president Enrique whatever his last name is threatened to retaliate against Trump and America, if he attempts to fix the huge trade imbalance with Mexico? Trump better not "Mess With Mexico", or Enrique might stop sending his out of work workers up here illegally to work illegally and send all that money back to Mexico, legally.

Old Friend Ken, do you remember all the golfing antics we are guilty of doing? The one early Sunday morning (That was before I became a Christian, folks) when we teed off at Stead Air Force Base north of Reno, the fog was so dense we could not see where our golf balls went, after we clobbered them.

We found some of them after the first hit, but never found one after the second hit. I hit a great fairway wood shot, it went a long long way. I heard glass break, but never knew what happened. Maybe it hit Enrique's Palace window, in Mexico. Say, did you know by Enrique sending his out of work workers here illegally to work, contributes greatly to Mexico's economy? Trump better not Mess With Mexico, or they won't pay for the wall that's going to keep out the workers Enrique sends north to work for money that greatly supplements Mexico's economy.

You remember the day we went golfing up by Truckee California, at Jackie Jensen's new golf course? One green was situated up on the side of a very steep mountain. There was a concrete stairway up to the tiny green. It was so steep to get up there you had to tee off with a Wedge. And if you missed the green, the ball came tumbling back down to you, stopping in the tee box. You lucked out and hit the green, but I had to use a bunch of my Mulligans to get there. From up on that high perch, we could see Enrique's palace, and he was throwing a temper tantrum, screaming at Trump, saying “I'm not going to pay for your %^(*%$()& wall that's going to ruin my big industry of sending my unemployed workers up there to work and send the money back down here where its needed.”

Trump said, fine, I will let the U.S. taxpayer pay for the $3,000,000,000,000 wall, and tell the masses I will collect from you later. Enrique was heard screaming, “Trump, Trump Fence Company is rich enough already.”

Besides, Enrique said, you build the wall that I'm not going to pay for, and it will take my guys less than a minute to cut a big hole through it with their cutting torch. That wall will look like Swiss cheese from San Diego to Brownsville. That brought a big famous impish Trump smile on Trump's face. “All bases are covered," smirked Trump. “I will get rich by starting a Trump Cutting Torch Company. And my new plant will be built north of the Rio Grand. So poo on you.”

Enrique may have gotten in the last word. “Trump,” he said, “Your Trump Wall will be as useless as a rubber bill on a woodpecker.”

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“Man is so stupid, he sacrifices his health in order to make lots of money. Then he sacrifices his money to try and recuperate his health Then he is so anxious about the future he doesn't enjoy the present. The result he doesn't live in the present or the future. He lives as if he will never die. Then he dies having never really lived.” — By Dalai Lama

Roy Bale can be reached at roybalemail@yahoo.com.