About what?
Daddy and Nixon in
Venezuela
A
CNN video on the Kennedy horse named “Macaroni” started this recent research
when I realized, “That’s not in Missouri.” Daddy was tossing Billy in the air
in the same spot as John Kennedy was tossed. It’s on a visit to see Ike, I
fear. To a three year-old, a park is a park, and where is my family film? Charlie
was in the doghouse early for communists rocking Nixon’s world as Vice
President, or was it a planned stunt to make Dick look good? I’m not writing
more on the possibility it was the latter, and as I should at least say on
MSNBC: “Only a Hughes can do that.” Twelve Secret Service guys pulled out guns
and Nixon himself took charge by ordering them not to shoot anyone. My own mother watched on TV and said, “Oh,
that’s terrible.” The word “terrible” is some sort of “code word.” Charles
himself thought me to be “horrible”—an even higher compliment. ONE CLUE:
Allende in Chile was a suicide. Not according to Charlie! He gave me a book
titled Ike and wrote an inscription? I can hear a terrorist’s nuclear
weapon ticking. Can’t you? Deaf? This
is all “bad,” not “good.”
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