A gentle word to our readers:
This very simple message is made due to the recent dust up concerning a collusion involving the Girl Scouts of America, an entity known as Planned Parenthood, and the presence of a newly named woman onto the impressive position of Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States of America. In the mode of the day, Planned Parenthood people…names…who cares?…apparently messaged the Girl Scouts of America that it was not appropriate for the new, improved Girl Scout organisation to send congratulations to a woman who gained her appointment to that High Bench by the act of a man. Planned Parenthood deigned that this newly appointed woman was dangerous to the rights of women to "choose". The Girl Scouts of America's administration immediately retracted their congratulations to Amy Coney Barrett because they had failed to remember that Justice is and apparently has always been an anathema…a reprobate…a backwards step in the effort to finally achieve a Brave New World for the good people who know that abortion is a fundamental right. According to them all civilisation should stop and celebrate and defend that belief. These people, of course, have either knowingly or through ignorance chosen a path of attempting to control civilisations, societies, and cultures so as to become a form of Regency…an assembly of intellectuals, marxists, and compulsive destroyers of any order that does not please them…or which does not serve their need or whim. Jane Fonda, Barbara Streisand, and Cher…and Michael Moore of course, really are not the best barometers for guiding a civilisation, society, or culture.
David Christian Newton, Sr.
______________________________________
From a long time ago, back in 1960, your humble servant was tasked with the duty of travelling with a pack of senior Girl Scouts from a club in Mission, Texas, drawn from the High School where my father was a professor. There were fourteen girls, all senior high level. Six of them were Latinoid and eight were Angloid, and they all looked the same. Especially in uniform. A Mrs. Val Verde, (an Angloid married to a Latinoid) a sacred cow do-gooderoid in Mission (her husband was a med-tech, highly regarded) was the "Head Brownie". She had asked the girls who else should accompany the troop for their two-week Summer excursion to the International Encampment of the Girl Scouts, International in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico. To a person they jumped up and down, demanding that it be "Mr. Newton!! Mr. Newton!!" (that, according to Mrs. Val Verde.)
As things developed it was also determined that Mrs. Newton and their son David should come along as well, as "indirect chaperones". Your humble servant, at that point in the life line, had just turned 14, heading to be a sophomore in September, and full of reasons why he had better things to do than to wander around in Mexico with a gaggle of Green Brownies. But my Father solved that problem by giving me the famous "one-choice choice". My mother was somewhat reluctant…but we had travelled elsewhere in Mexico and it had always resulted something positive. The three of us tagalong people were also fluent in Spanish, and that would help on the way down. So, the time arrived. Departing from Brownsville on a Transportes del Norte bus (quite a nice ride, actually) with it two drivers and impeccable appointments, we considered ourselves ordained with the proper luxuries due a fine group such as ours.
My restoration of sense of self was improved a bit when I went for a walk in the that "Centro" that teemed with humanity of every possible sort, it seemed. I passed through the magnificent "Central Park" and continued to the Great Plaza that marked the political centre of Mexico City. One side the huge and majestic Palace of Government brooded over its bureaucrats, workers, and children. And to the right, exiting that building, the "heaviest Cathedral in Christendom", with "more altars than the Pope's Basilica" and so forth, it was truly amazing. That building on the Great Plaza brooded over its children, as well. Most of the time they were all the same children.
But my adventure started with my ambling about with my fancy boots, and slacks like a civilised gorilla, matching jacket…all very 1960ish…along with my 5X Stetson to ward off the quickly penetrating Solar menace that could sizzle the skin, no matter the ambient temperature (7,200 fasl will do that to a white-skinned Saxon).
 |
| Perhaps there is a resemblance…what do you all think? __________________ |
In the near distance, walking briskly, came a grim faced, grumpy looking, 'Penguina' (a term reserved by Mexican children for "nun"). She was vigorously tapping the sidewalk with her dowel rod and upon reaching the girls, she began whacking them, a little more than gently on their calves, shouting, "Sin verguenzas!!! Voy a informar a la Madre Superior!!! Formanse!!! Haz fila!!! (girls without shame!! I'm going to tell Mother Superior!!! Group up!! Make a line!!).
The girls largely complied, some handling the hat briefly so as to see the gold lettering "David Christian Newton" inside…before they would run off joining the ranks, in step, with the sister-in-charge banging her dowel rod as if she were trying to break up the concrete. I wound up with a picture or two (one with her Reverence the Sister, and the girls filled up their fancy little cameras, but whatever for?). And, of course, my parents had caught it all…giving me stern looks as they came closer.
Some relief came from the store workers and owners who were still laughing, some coming out to shake hands with me. One of the older men advised me, laughingly, …"Be careful with the shepherdess, she is very jealous about her little sheep!!" My mother glowered at me a bit, and advised,"We'll have to talk at supper."
This event was followed a bit, the next day, when one of our uniformed Girl Scouts somehow got stopped at the intersection, a traffic officer pointing the girl back to the curb. She looked like a model in her uniform etc, but we were over on this side of a huge, wide Paseo de la Reforma (10 lanes) and, of course, the girl was on the other. My mother demanded and ordered me, "David, bring that silly girl over here, now!" and I began to follow orders, when suddenly a soldier, a lieutenant, took the arm of our Girl Scout and literally walked her formally across the boulevard detaining massive flows of traffic, but only briefly. Once again, the "audience" cheered and applauded, but this time for the Mexican officer. Some of our girls had pictures of him.
There were thousands of incidents, encounters, pleasantries, that could fill a thick book just on this one excursion. But this time, the story is about and for the Girl Scouts of America, especially from Mission, Texas who gathered the greatest number of awards and citations of the encampment of several thousand attendees. And that was the way it was, 18 August 1960, in a place called Mexico.
Thanks for the attention…and look both ways before crossing the street!
EL GRINGO VIEJO
_______________________________________
