The yellow peril

I thought you might like a look at our world right now. The tree pollen is so thick you leave footprints in it. Everything has a funny greenish yellow glow to it. I wrote the word Hi on my Navy Blue boat cover.

Iran

So now we witness another mis-step by the Britons. one would think that by this time they would know how to deal with a bully. The fact that Iran has fifteen of your troops precludes you from dealing from the position of strength. It's time to kiss a lil ass until you have your people back. The correct way to handle these matters is to get your people back and then send a message that this will be met with a very strong response in the future. (don't see that kind of shit happening to the Russians) You back your threat with a strong slap in the face. I would sink a large ship of war. Be ready for the retaliation, and be willing to escalate to the point you win! If it means leaving a big smoking hole in the ground then so be it. One must remember the reason for their strength is our weakness; so don't be weak! Ohh and as for the rest of the world? nanny nanny boo boo, I'll stick yer face in doo doo! Or to put it another way... Piss off buggers!

What is Character

I’ve noticed a number of college athletes in the news lately for legal troubles. It seems that even on the better teams and at the better schools there is a problem. You see things like a kid that’s never been in trouble before stealing things from another student. Two incidents of that along with a quarterback that got drunk and then a couple of days later keyed a car over some road rage slight. I wonder what of their character? We know that they know right from wrong in the traditional sense, but what were they thinking? Good character doesn’t mean always doing the right thing. I couldn’t stand up to that harsh light any more then the rest of you, but what of intent? I was watching Bill Oreilly the other night and saw a young woman ranting on about all the nonsense that the left has to offer, even to complaining that we on the right are responsible for a baby getting his testicles crushed. As a conservative Republican I can assure you that I not only wouldn’t crush any testicles but also would work to protect what testicles might be in my vicinity. What was her intent? Did she really believe the shit she was slinging? What did her folks teach her? I’m all for honest dissent as well as honest mistakes. I’m also for forgiveness of mistakes when ones debt is paid but what are people thinking? Does character require thought or do you just perform a certain way because of it? What role does intellect play in character? I’ve known some very stupid people that had a strong moral compass but made mistakes based on a lack of intellectual horsepower. I’ve known some geniuses that didn’t give a damn and everything in-between. I believe the thieves have a chance to redeem themselves, as does the drunk that keyed the car. With age comes wisdom even to the dumbest of us. If it didn’t then you would die; something about natural selection. The young woman spewing her propaganda on the other hand is too sure that she is right. As long as her mouth is open her ears are shut. Character is the combination of what you are taught mixed with experience built over a lifetime. Character is the final measure of your life’s work.

For Don

About this time last year our friend Don told me that spring was when the Bradfords bloomed. Well they have been white for a week now Don. Time to come home.

Changes

Spring has arrived here on my lake O the woods home. The cycle begins anew with buds on the trees and grass turning green. Temps by the middle of the week will be in the seventies, and I'll have an extra hour of light after work. One thing about change is it's constant. I've been going through some changes lately my self. It seems that my one remaining eye has decided to let me down. As most know from my pic I am nearsighted. With those big glasses I could see well enough to drive and get along in this world quite well. To borrow a phrase from Glenn Beck, now "not so much".
It begins to look like my seventy mile a day commute isn't going to continue, so I look for ideas that can keep me close to home yet alow me to make a living. Just another bump in the road. As I contemplate where I'm going and what I'm doing next I found a stupid question. Some folks think there is no such thing as a stupid question but I found it. Here it is..... "If you had it to do all over again, would you?" It doesn't matter what you apply it to the question is still stupid, and here's why. The future of any course we take is not known. The future of any course we don't take is not known. You might have time to reflect on that as you take your last breath, but maybe not. This line of reasoning also affects the question, "Do I dare?" The bigger the risk the bigger the reward, but what of the unknown outcome?

OOPS wrong car

Here is the proto 2009 ZO6 Blue Devil Corvette.

Corvette

Ya know, I get so damn tired of hearing America doesn't make great cars anymore. This leggy beauty would fit nicley in my garage. With 600 horsepower it might have to stay in the garage but what the heck.

Daughters

K so I was watching Fox news tonight and what did I see? almost nonstop Anna And Brittney and Lindsey, ect ect. Some of you know that I have two daughters and that one is a mile of bad road. I love and have loved my daughters equally and with all my heart. As proud as I am of the oldest, my heart breaks for the youngest. The oldest is now a Navy Corpsman on her way to her first post. The younger moves from man to man looking for god only knows what. One of the guys at work showed me the limo photos of Brittney. Yep I saw the money shot! Also saw the C section scar. I'm reminded of a guy I used to know many years ago. I would call him and ask whatcha doin? He would reply, "F*ckin someones daughter, you?" I was young and he was the cool street wise black guy, but one day I asked him what if someone referred to his daughter that way? He replied, "I'll put a foot up his ass!" So the next time you see Lindsey or Paris act out remember, she's someones daughter. And if you've got a spare prayer or two, these girls can use them. So can the dads.

Shrillary and the flag

Pics are of the African American Monument and the Confederate Battle flag on our State House Grounds. Follow up to Indigo Red As most of you know, The Yankee Bitch was here this week. One of the first things she did was to call for the removal of the Confederate Battle Flag from the SC State House grounds. It really isn't my issue but hey, whats one more Yankees opinion. When I first arrived in SC I noticed that they flew the Battle flag on the dome of the state capital. It was tucked under Old Glory and the state flag so I had no problem with their pride in heritage. Also I'm a fan of more states rights and that is what the flag represents to me. In a battle with the NAACP the flag was taken down from the dome and moved to a small flag pole on the main entrance. It now flies in front of the statue of Strom Thurmond. This was a compromise between the state and the NAACP. This compromise was never truly accepted by the NAACP, and they fight to this day for the removal of the flag. In an effort to get the minority vote every Democrat presidential candidate also calls for its removal. The confederate heritage folks have a saying about all of this. So you've made it about race. Now it's off the dome and in your face! While I don't agree with that I do understand how they feel. A compromise was reached so live with it. That flag is their heritage, their monument. Blacks have their own flag that for a while flew on their monument. It's bad enough that the blacks are always using the race card, now we have Hillary too! Outsiders like Hillary And I and the national NAACP have no dog in this fight.

Politicians

I was visiting my buddy Tom at Toms Common Sense. It seems there is a lot of trouble in my former state. They have a Democrat Governor once again, and it reminded me of a time I got to see the great Governor James Blanchard at a function. The function was the appointment of the first Black woman to head the Michigan Dept of Public Health. The appointee was a very large woman named Gloria something or other. I was surprised at her appointment. Not because she was Black, but because she was a Nurse not a Doctor. I in my capacity as employee of the man that ran the concession stand, provided the coffee for the event. ( No I wasn't always the worlds greatest mechanic) I had seen many pictures and video of Jimmy as we called him. He seemed to be a big wide chested man with not one unruly hair on his head. In his blue suit he was right purty!
This was to be my first face to face encounter with a powerful politician. I went into the room where the event was taking place to get a look at Jimmy. What I saw was the State Police body guard carrying a small set of steps into the room. Soon Gloria and a short lil guy that looked like a miniature Jimmy walked up. The lil Jimmy got on the steps and faced the news people while Gloria stood next to him on the floor. On the top step lil Jimmy was taller then Gloria. When Jimmy wasn't on the steps he wasn't taller then a fire-hydrant! No pics were taken of Jimmy without the steps. I began to laugh and was asked to leave.

Things that move me

I don't think I've lost anything in Hawaii, but there is one thing I wish to see before I die.

This is the first of an irregular group of posts titled things that move me. If my friends wish to contribute I'll give you the keys to the blog for this subject.

A nation at war

At this time last year my son in law was representing his country and the U.S. Navy In the super bowl. He was a member of the color guard, carrying the flag of the United States Navy. While I got to see everything from scantily clad girls to Tony The Dancing Bear, the faces of our honor guard were hidden behind the flags.
They had about three seconds of air time. Less time then it took the jets to fly over. Somebody needs to remember that these young men and women are more then just decoration and dressing on the plate of America. Not once or twice but every time you see a young person in uniform you must understand the sacrifice that goes into it. The many hours away from Moms and Dads Sisters Brothers Husbands Wives and Children. The many people that love them. The potential to serve and be killed in a foreign land for people that we don't understand is ever greater. I for one find their few moments of fame to be far too fleeting in the face of all that they do. While I will not rail against the masses for their complacence, I will feel it and do what I can to ensure that every service member knows that someone gives a damn and is watching. We give to you o world the best that springs forth from our being. Our flesh and blood, our beloved. Children with our courage and vision. They will try to guarantee the future for one and all upon this planet. To you that are awake to their plight I ask a prayer. To you that are not, I pray for you!

Spring

I think the Canadians are responsible for this.

Yes that's my boat, and yes thats my dock. Guess it's my snow too! Think Spring gang! Please!

Test

I have not been able to post anything new since the upgrade. One would think one would check it to see if it would work before sticking it to those of us that have to use it!

Heroes once more.

A couple of days before Christmas we had house guests for the evening. My wife's good friend came along with her husband and spent a lil time with us on their way to family for the holidays. The husband is Chief Dave, a twenty year veteran of the U.S. Navy. He recently served on the USS Wasp.
I had the opportunity to chat with him about what he did on board ship, and thank him for his service. I came away with the understanding that this man was all business about his job, and the people under him. What they do on a daily basis can get you dead in a hurry with a mistake. Dave doesn't do mistakes. One of the things he did was to make fresh water for New Orleans after Katrena. One hundred thousand gallons a day! That was half the production of the ship! She stays at nintyfive percent or above ready for action at all times! They can provide fresh water to a city, or land Marines by air or sea as needed. Dave and the people that sail with him are also Heroes. My Daughter, though she doesn't know it is another hero of mine. She signed up for the Navy, and was let go for a medical reason. She went home and to school for two years while getting her waiver, and went at it again! She got hurt in basic but fought through it. Now she is a corpsman. Her perseverance and fight make me proud of her no matter where her road leads. She is my hero. Her new husband, a Navy man of ten years. He takes good care of her, and is my hero. My cousin Joe, twenty two years in Navy intelligence. Enough said. One more tonight...My friend Don who served at a time when it wasn't cool to do so. Thanks Buddy!

Heroes Two

As I've said earlier I'm blessed with many heroes. Either that or I'm badly misguided. Another of my Heroes is My Dad, Tom C. SR. Not because of his Korean war service, though he is the genuine article as Heroes go. Personally I think anyone that jumps out of perfectly good airplanes is nuts, but to each his own. He is my hero for all the time he spent with me and all of the kids in the neighborhood teaching us to catch and hit a ball, and show good sportsmanship. He did this at the end of ten to twelve hour days over many years. He would pull into the driveway and drop his lunch box at the steps as he walked on past the house to the vacant lot next to our house, calling for the ball as he picked up his mit that was already out and waiting for him. In the fall he would teach us to run button hooks and slant pass plays in backyard football. He would throw those passes till every kid had his fill. It must have been a real thrill to have all those kids yelling his name and asking if he would stay out with them. He took the time to teach me the same as all the other kids, never mind that I was blind in one eye and not good in the other. He taught me to shoot a gun as well as I could see. I won the first Turkey shoot I entered in South Carolina. I sent him the paper target to show him.
I was reading the Detroit News the other day. I read an article about three young football players that play for the Michigan Wolverines. All were stars. They spoke of the great privilege they had been given. They spoke of their stardom, and their degrees. They spoke of trips to C.S. Mott Childrens Hospital to visit the kids that help to keep things in proper perspective. When I was eight years old I went blind in one eye. I got a month in that same hospital, confined to bed. I had surgery four times before they gave up. It was too far from home to have Mom and Dad there much. As the Christmas season drew near we got a real treat! Some Michigan players took the time to come and see us. It had been three weeks since I had been allowed to stand or walk without a nurse physically holding onto me. If I had to use the toilet they would seat me before giving me any privacy. So this big and I mean real big man comes and chats with me. He knew I couldn't walk because of fear of a blow to the head. He asked me if I was tired of sitting in the room. When I said yes he picked me up and carried me. We even went outside for the first breath of fresh air I'd had in three weeks. Yep even now the Wolverines are my Heroes. When he brought me back to my room he left me with a Michigan sweatshirt as a Christmas present. Continued

Heroes

I wonder if we take the correct amount of time to think about our Heroes. I'm 44 years old and still have Heroes. Some are obvious, and some are not. I'm fortunate in that my life is full of Heroes.
I'm going to list some of my Heroes and why they are. I'm not going to list them in an order from first to least because Heroes can't be categorized that way. I'm simply going to try to tell you a lil about them and why I hold them in such esteem. To begin this journey you must first understand a lil bit more about me then most folks know. I am the son of the son of a Michigan dirt farmer. I think but am not sure that my Dad finished the tenth grade. There was no eleventh. My Mother was a native of Chicago, her father a carpenter. She was a lady! I am their son. In my Grandfathers house was a picture of John Kennedy, and just a lil ways away the sacred virgin Mary. Kinda odd for a protestant home but I was raised a Catholic. By most standards I'm a spoiled child, even to the point of having at one point seven dirt bikes at one time as a child. Not bad for the son of an auto worker. What most didn't understand or care to look into was that I earned what I got! The hard way! I worked! Dad worked for GM most of my life building Oldsmobiles. I remember getting to watch him in the early years unload the trucks by pulling on a heavy chain, thus dragging the partial bodies off several at a time. He did this twelve hours a day seven days a week to feed and cloth us. It was a helluva long way from his beloved upper peninsula home. Yep that's right! We're Yoopers. My first hero is his Father, William John. As his friends and enemies called him...Jack. Jack was the most respected man in the county for a number of reasons. The Man could do anything! If he chose to fly past on the strength of his arms alone no one would have thought anything amiss. He worked in a rock quarry by day and farmed by night. He was a veteran of the great war, ww1. He spent his time as a cook. To him the thing was he served. All of his sons would serve as well, some with great distinction. One of Jacks friends had an episode with too much booze one night and ended up on his front porch with a rifle, staring down the State Police. They were going to shoot him. Jack walked up to him and asked him to put the gun down. He refused. Jack then told the man he was coming to take the gun, and help the man get through this trouble. The man told him...."Jack, I'll shoot you if you come near. One must remember that Jack was the deciding authority in that county at that time. He told the police to stand down. He then walked up to his friend. Half way between the road and his friend, the man put a round from his .22 rifle through Grandpa's right calf. Jack stopped and said, "Don't do that again! Don't make me loose my temper with you! He then went on and dis armed the man. That same man was with my family the day we buried Jack many years later. He echoed the words of my own Father; The greatest man I ever knew. There are a thousand stories about Jack, and if Super man was 5'6 and 140 pounds Jack was him. Continued...

Christmas Eve

Today is Christmas Eve. The wife and I went out to run some errands and pick up a few last minute items. Also stopped to deliver a present to the barn. I see the Horses are ready for Santa. On the way back home I noticed the crowd was getting bigger at our neighborhood tavern. Wife and I got to talking about that. It seems they will be open tomorrow afternoon. She then told me about the Gay men that she has known for many years. It seems that on Christmas they often get together for potluck suppers at their bars. It has to do with many of them being disowned by family, so they get together with the only family they have. Each other. It’s not going to be so different at the tavern down the street. The reasons one might find them alone on the holiday are as many and varied as the people you will see there. In our lil tavern everyone knows someone else there, and there is no shortage of Christmas spirit. As my good friend Don once said to me, “Evil lurks in the heart of man, not the haunts of man.” Over the years we have had many guests over for Christmas dinner. Friends that had nowhere else to be and no one to be there with them. They have always been a welcome addition to our table, especially with both of us being so many hours from our families. Tomorrow when you get together with your families, remember those that are close to you that might not have a place to be, or someone to be with. As for me, I think I’ll pop in to the pub and have a round with the folks in there. Just to share a Merry Christmas.

Colin Powell

I wonder if anyone else caught any of that interview that Colin Powell gave I think Bill Schieffer? He sure sounded like a surrender monkey to me. I don’t mean that I disagree with everything he had to say, but it was close!
I remember a time when as a young boy my class went on a field trip to the lake that was set aside for our school. It was a day trip in the fall so there was to be no swimming. We were there to work planting trees and doing other conservation type things. It was during a time of goofing off just before lunch that a bunch of us had gathered on the old rickety dock to look into the water of the lake. One of our number, a kid named John had gotten careless with a brand new compass that his mom had bought him just for this trip. We heard KE plunk! And I watched the compass sink down to the bottom of the lake. Now at this time the water was quite cold and we had no change of cloths so going in wasn’t an option. Also John was terrified of the water. He became very upset over the loss of his new toy. I wanted that compass and devised a way to get it. I then stated my intentions to John. He was less than thrilled that I was going to go get the compass and keep it for my own. I explained that I was the only one that could get the compass and if I didn’t then no one would have it. He then said to me that if I would get the compass for him that he in return would give or do some other great thing. I agreed. I then went and got a stick wit a three-twigged fork in it. I stripped to the waist and leaned into the water as far as I could go while having two other boys hold my legs. I took the stick and very gently snagged the compass and brought it up. When I gave it back to John he then asked me what might he have to do for it? I told him that because we were friends he should thank me. Had I been of less then honorable intentions I would have kept it because I wanted it.
Back to Colin. I’m sure he was a good soldier and seems at times to know a great deal. So here he was talking about us losing in Iraq. Lets define our goals before we us the losing word. He said more troops wouldn’t help. On that point we agree. He then says we need to get involved with Iran and Syria so that they will help us win this thing. General, if I may be so blunt…… They …..Want to keep the compass and they’re not our friends and they are certainly not honorable!

This too goes with the series for John.

Remembering the face of a liberator
By CHRISTY M. COX
Guest columnist
OTTAWA — Encouraged by his beautiful wife of 56 years, he proudly rolled up his sleeve to show me what time cannot erase.
I asked him if I could touch his arm, run my fingertips across the number burned into the skin: 725858. Under the middle “5” a roughly etched triangle identifies him as a Jew.
David Shentow spent his teenage years in Hitler’s concentration camps. He was born in Poland, raised in Belgium and long ago emigrated to Canada, where he met and married Rose.
They are a handsome couple, passionate about each other and life, perhaps in a way one can only be after you’ve lost everything you’ve ever loved, when you’ve faced years waking up in anticipation of your own death.
Something else the Shentows have an almost holy reverence for: the United States of America.
It’s interesting how reality offers meaningful perspective.
While some of our own elected officials, various national media and pundits, as well as the usual Hollywood bright lights, accuse our country, our president and our troops of everything from greed and stupidity to torture and murder, here is a marked survivor of real evil who calls the United States a “great liberator.” I guess when you’ve been to hell and back, you’re not given to hyperbole and hysterics.
On April 29, 1945, David Shentow thought he was dead. He had somehow managed to survive years of abuse and starvation first at Auschwitz and then at Dachau, but now, with nothing left of him, there was no way death would wait as an enraged Nazi beat him mercilessly with a club. He doesn’t know how many hours he lay unconscious.
He was surprised when he did wake and found himself as he says, “still clinging to life.” But the camp was different. Except for the moans of his fellow prisoners, all was quiet. The SS guards were gone, their sentry boxes abandoned.
And then music to his ears: the rumblings of a tank headed toward him. When the tank stopped and the turret was opened, Mr. Shentow looked upon a smile that would hold his imagination and his heart for the rest of his life. It belonged to a young African-American soldier.
“Hi, young fella!” the American GI said, “How are you doing?” He then threw the bewildered captive the only thing he had on hand at the moment — a stick of gum.
“This was the moment of my liberation!” Mr. Shentow tells me. “The day of my birthday. I had just turned 20 years old.”
The Nazis murdered Mr. Shentow’s parents and his two sisters, along with his youth. But “an American soldier gave me back my life,” he says.
Yes, the American soldier.
The same who now stands on the front lines in Afghanistan and Iraq.
The one who fights for the same cause of freedom as those American patriots who went before, who volunteers to protect us from an enemy bent on nothing less than our obliteration.
Mr. Shentow’s arm: 725858. That crooked triangle. For me, forevermore, it is now, also, the symbol of the policy of appeasement.
The world hoped for the best in 1938 and looked away while Hitler marched on.
Today, the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad calls the Holocaust a “myth,” wants Israel wiped off the map and says that “anybody who recognizes Israel will burn in the fire of the Islamic nations’ fury.”
I’ll take him at his word. We’ve been down this road before. Only now our expectations are different.
We expect instant satisfaction, demand immediate victories. CNN and The New York Times stand ready to dub any U.S. military operation a “quagmire” within the space of days.
There are no instant fixes for what we face in Iran, Syria, Iraq, North Korea.
We all want — indeed pray for — diplomatic solutions. But “solutions” must not include appeasing evil, “feeding a crocodile, hoping it will eat you last,” as Winston Churchill put it. It must not include abandoning the battlefield when the war has not yet been won. It must not demand instant victories; only a steadfast commitment to success.
It’s lonely at the top. But the bottom line is that the United States has the resources and moral fortitude to fight — and defeat — the forces now conspiring against the Western world.
Certainly much of the world resents this fact, and the more tragic fact is some Americans who think peace should come at any cost now view our country as the aggressor — a country they work to bring to its knees.
I wish they could see Mr. Shentow’s arm.
Ms. Cox served as director of communications for the S.C. House from 1998 to 2005 and as chief of staff for Speaker David Wilkins. She currently serves at the U.S. Embassy in Ottawa. The views expressed here do not represent official U.S. policy.

Illusion or delusion.

The story I'm about to tell you is true. As with everything else here if it weren't I'd tell you so. The reason I tell this and maybe more story's is for the benefit of John so that he may be something more then an atheist.
We begin by getting in the truck to go to work on a clear summer day. I'm not in my big Blue Ford with the monster tires this day. I have had a breakdown and am left with using my Mother in laws GMC four wheel drive to get to work till I get some time to fix mine. For background her truck is a 1978 GMC 1500 with a 350cid engine. The truck is white with a white shell on the back. At the time I worked as a mason tender, stacking block and mixing mud to make basements and brick walls. I had gotten my lil bro Craig a job with my company. We took turns driving to the town we worked in. At that time we worked in a town called Okemos Michigan. It is a bedroom community of Lansing and East Lansing. Yes I even did some landscaping for the head coach of Miami Dolphins Nick Sabin. He was the defensive coordinator of Moo U in those days. (otherwise known as the Michigan State Spartans.... See the green hat on Michael Moores fat head)
One must understand that I'm very nearsighted in the one eye that I have left. I've always had Coke bottle glasses and made up for it with cat fast reflexes. I'm also going to give real street names for those that choose to view the rout I took that a.m.
I had picked up my lil bro and headed north on Cedar st to Jolly road. I turned right onto Jolly and headed east. The next road was the last semi major in town that went north south. It was called Aurelius road, and was about a half to three quarters of a mile away. Jolly went from four to two lanes about the time it got there. We were running late as I had left late from getting the kids up. I was speeding, about 50 in a 45 mph zone. An odd feeling came over me that I've had a time or two before. As I was driving I saw superimposed on my vision a sight that wasn't there. I saw the death agony of a young Black woman! As I pulled back from the scene, I saw that I had hit a Chevy Chevette broadside with the truck. The woman inside didn't stand a chance. I saw her face as I hit her. I saw her eyes open and looking at me in shock. I saw her neck break.
As fast as I'd seen this terrible vision it was gone. Replaced by the real vision of the road..... and a lil white car in the turn lane ahead of me. As I got to the intersection I slammed on the brakes and swerved to the left. A lil white Chevette turned left into the path of my truck. My Bro Craig impacted the windshield. I missed her! I missed her by the hair on my young chinny chin chin! I saw the terror in her eyes as we went by. We had ten or so miles to go to get to work so I kept driving. After a while Craig asked how I knew? He said that I made my move a split second before she turned in front of us, and had it been him with his perfect vision she would be dead. I just knew, and I don't know any more.

I found this plate on the front of a late sixties era Chevy truck. A yellow dog in the Carolinas is a very common sight, We grow them wild down here. They are related to the Dingos and Russian step dogs. It is believed that they came over on the land bridge that used to exist. The saying as told to me by Daddy Bob was that this fool would vote for a Yellow Dog if the dog was running as a Democrat. Some peoples problems are very evident.

Vicky's page

On the day I met Bill's sister nothing much out of the ordinary happened. I had gone to his house and there she was. End of story.... So I thought. A few chance encounters later and I realized that she didn't shy away from the kid with the massive glasses, even made a point of starting a conversation. It didn't take long before I thought she was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. Most of the guys used to make fun of her because she was like nothing any of us had ever seen. Jet Black hair to the middle of her back, and lil wire glasses offset by a black leather bikers jacket and her own dirt bike. The Fonz wasn't going to do any better. I don't know how it happened but we became friends, then good friends, and then something more. She was my first real girlfriend. It was she that taught me the finer points of how to bury a bike into a berm low and get a good holeshot coming out. She took over my paper rout while I went off to wrestle for school glory and a couple of medals along with two blown knees. When I couldn't walk she would come see me. We had part of a summer and on through the next. Then she gave me the news that she was going back to California to live with her mother. It seemed that dad was moving and she didn't want any part of being a farm girl. I was at the time crushed. We said our goodbyes and moved on. Over the years she was never more then a step or two away from my mind. When I was racing motocross I thought of her often, and wondered if I would ever see her again. As time went by I was about to take a new job working for an old friend at a huge office complex. About a day or two before I was to start my new job I went to my Mothers house to pick up what then was my only daughter. I got to the house and found Mom softly weeping. When I asked her what was the matter she gave me that days paper. It told of a young woman that worked at the complex I was about to go to work at. She was killed in a jeep rollover while out four wheeling with friends. I knew for sure it was her when I read the names of her two brothers and where they lived. She had at that time a husband and child. I don't know what the plan is but there must be a plan. This sort of thing doesn't happen without a reason. She and her friendship are to this day a treasure of mine. There was one more Jeep incident but I survived it.

Life's people still

So it’s the season again. I always have a hard time about this time of year. The reasons vary from the simple to the complex. They range from the people and places that are no longer in my life to the ones that still are but are very distant. It is the one time of the year I don’t like living in the Deep South, something about the power of snow falling to cleans the soul. For whatever reason cold rain doesn’t suffice. It was a December about eight years ago that I experienced my toughest year, but that is another story. I got an e-mail from my sister Kate; she sends me mail by the score. This one told about there being three types of people in everyone’s life. It had to do with time frames that one interacted with others. Said something like a reason, a season, or a lifetime. It got me to thinking about even more of my life’s people, and what might have been or should never have been. About a million years ago, when I was about thirteen or fourteen I met a couple of people that were only to be there for a season. I use the term season a lil bit loosely because I believe God has longer seasons then we. Anyway to begin the story, I used to collect Baseball cards. Along with my wrestling, it was my passion. I had Mickey Mantle and a Babe reprint, and a Mark Fydrich; the man that talked to baseballs. The friend that got me started in all of this had long since gone God only knows where. My collection was getting kinda stagnant. One day a friend told me that a new boy had moved into the last house on our street two blocks away, and he was a collector. It was my first ever meeting with a kid from California. He didn’t seem different to me, but they aren’t at that age. He was just a slight bit older and a lot more confident about most everything. It was Bill LeFever that convinced me that it was worthwhile to ride the city bus an hour to another city and spend the day in dusty old bookstores looking at Baseball cards and old books. I had no idea such places existed, but when I found out! I would forget to eat while searching out Edgar Rice Boroughs Books or the rare Mantle card. Bill and I were never real close. We had our time, but it was when we could squeeze each other in. Never the less, I’m grateful for the things he taught me in the year we had together. I am most grateful for the introduction to his sister. Continued.

Family

With yesterday being Thanksgiving here in America, I took the time to reflect on the holiday. It's a celebration of family, as much now as it ever was. My wife and I didn't travel this time, work got in the way. We spent the day together cooking our feast and watching the Lions lose another football game. It's a tradition.... with the Lions that is. Never have so many sucked so badly for so long. Bill Ford ought to get a lifetime achievement award. Ahh I digress...
Anyway I got to thinking about my family and what they mean to me. As most of you know I have two kids, an ex wife, and a wife. I include the ex because you can never be rid of them when you have kids. My mother once told me that when you marry someone you marry the whole family. She was telling me I was making a mistake. I did much better the second time around. My oldest was taking her boyfriend to her moms family's house for the meal, I recommended that they stop and get him a bottle. He has no Idea what he is in for. So after to obligatory phone calls to the relatives I had time to think of my extended family. A bottle isn't needed with them in most cases. My family was blessed to have a small weekend cottage on a lake. Every once in a while we could get all of the friends I had to come and spend some time. That was special time for family. I liked to get up early and walk down to the water with a cup of joe just to watch God work his magic upon the coming day. It was just such a morning when I was joined by my lil brother Craig. He had brought his wife up for one last time. He broke the news of their divorce to me on that dock. I hugged him and told him we would get through it together as we had everything else. On another morning I was joined by brother Mikes daughter Rae. She was the first to hug me and wish me a happy fathers day that year. I can think of many people that I consider family from that place and time. My family is always growing, it now includes people that I've never actually met. I have a friend in Minnesota that I've never met, yet she always sends me cards and thoughtful notes that remind me that I'm important in her life. A couple more in Washington State, a bunch in Canada, Texas, and on the road. (Don)
I have a neighbor couple that I'm so close to that they just have to be kin! D and I along with Ted and Judy would sometimes spend the whole evening and half the night just puttering around the lake and chatting about everything. Ted is one of only two or three people that I would ask for advice on this earth, and is my only older brother. It is because of these people that the ship of my life can weather the storms that blow in from time to time. To all of my family, know that I think of you with love and hope the best for all of you during the coming Holiday season.

Blog that Bird

I got mine, how bout you?


Ten fortyfive AM The bird went on with lots of Hickory. Dinner will be in about three hours. Out door temp is 61 and sunny on its way to 70' F. Lake is going up and I'm happy!

Bird update! YUM!

Lifes people #5

Well as you can see I'm still here so that means I didn't get up and start swinging. I did however get up and ask him what the hell he did that for! Turns out that while he was at Paris Island becoming a Marine his girl was seen with the neighbor boy....The one with glasses! Well dude I hate to break it to yah but you got the wrong one. I aint dating her! Period! Now seeing as your kinda new in the neighborhood, (only a couple of years) you might not have noticed that we all grew up together! Your girl and I have been friends since kindergarten! "Ohh sorry! Say, you wanna punch me in the face to make it even?" "No, I think I'll pass for now. They started to get in their cars when Richey came back. He came running down the street waving a three foot piece of pipe and screaming that he was gonna kill somebody! I then sent Craig to stop him while I reminded Jeff the Marine that we all were in the middle of a road and he was drunk! He and crew got into cars and split. We took a sec to get our wits about us when I heard the sound of hot Oldsmobile come skidding to a stop. Mike outs with a 16 gauge shotgun and starts looking for someone to shoot. Richey says "ohh yeah I went and called Mike." We then took Rich and Craig home and went to have round two with Jeff. Remember I don't use my fists when in a fight. Backing up a few years we have the event that shaped us as friends and neighbors for all time. Tom C had managed to get a date to the Junior High prom with the prettiest girl in school. (yes even a blind squirrel gets a nut once in a while) My hobby then was riding my dirtbikes and racing anyone that wanted a whuppin. One afternoon I had Rich and Craigs lil brother on my bike riding him around the field behind my house. He was six and kinda the neighborhood pet. He pestered me like all lil brothers do till I took him for a ride. I would put him in front of me so I could hold his helmet in place with my chin and off we would go. I then saw my Dad waving to me to come home, it was time to go get my shoes for the Prom. I dropped "Putt Putt" (we called him that because that was the noise he made when playing with cars) off and told him I would give him a longer better ride when I got back. He thanked me and trundled off on his bike making motorcycle noises. After getting my shoes we drove past the house to get some Burger King. Coming home the road was closed with emergency vehicles. I ran as fast as I could to see what was the matter. When I got to the scene Craig came running over to me crying that Putt Putt was dead. I looked out to see the sheet someone had covered him with and then I saw his shoes in the road. It seems he snuck off to follow big brother Rich to the convenience store across the busy highway. Rich had to turn and face the highway as he was going into the store. It was then that he saw Putt ride out into the first lane of a forty five mph highway. He had just enough time to yell for him to get back, then the truck hit him. To this day I wonder what kind of a man you would have grown into Dennis.

Lifes people #4

As bad as it seemed, rollovers and jeeps would have a place in my life at least once more. I was lucky. I remember being the kid with the self esteem problem in Junior high. It effected almost every facet of my life then. Girls were no different, though lord knows I tried. For some reason I was never able to see what others saw in me, only what I saw. What I saw was a scrawny half blind kid scared half out of his mind about everything. Most of the kids that were on my street were a year or two younger then me, least the ones that lived close. We were an exceptionable close group and will always be, even though we seem to have lost touch. I remember hanging out and partying one night after bowling league when one of the guys asked me for advice about something kinda personal in his life. I had no answer and told him as much. The dumbest of the bunch then piped up and said " What do you mean you have no answer? Your the big man! You're supposed to have an answer!" I've always thought of myself as one of a group and never knew how much I was counted on. "You never know just how you look through other peoples eyes." Again the song Pepper. A little about the one with the question I couldn't answer. He was the younger brother of two boys that lived down the street. We were always together, the three of us till the event. After the event it was mostly the younger and I till we grew up. We shared some awful and traumatic moments Craig and I. I love and miss him to this day. One of the first things I remember was him and a bully named Richard (I also knew) at the elementary school on a Saturday. Richard was going to kick his six year old ass just because he could. When I got there Craig was in tears and scared out of his mind. Richard was bigger then me but a year younger. I told him to go away before I kicked his ass. He listened, thank god! Craig was my lil brother ever more. It was him that skipped school and walked four miles to be with me on the day I had my worst fight. It was his voice I heard the day I had another bully in a Judo sleeper hold and was saying goodbye! Matt you owe your life to someone that you never even knew. One Friday night we went walking to the lil park not far from our houses when a car skidded to a stop and a guy got out and asked if I knew him, he then told me his name and punched me in the face, knocking me on my ass. I didn't know him from Adams house cat. Here we were, me on the ground with Craig on top of me whispering in my ear. He had seen my glasses go flying, and knew I couldn't see a damn thing without them. What he said to me..."Dude there's about ten of them and some have knives. Richie ran (his older brother) and its just you and me. Your boy is a damn U.S. Marine! If you get up were both dead but I'll put my back against yours as long as I can. He meant it! Continued.

Again lifes people.

So we've come a long way since then. There was a gun involved on that day, lucky for me it was a replica .44 semi auto .177 caliber bb pistol. Had it been real I'd be dead from a chest wound. As it was we were both kicked out of school. Him to return after an exam with a shrink because of the gun, me after my mandatory three day rest. I was asked if I might not be happier going to school somewhere else.....Please. I would rather have my testicles removed with a spoon than go back to school there, so off I went. First stop was a place called re-entry school. There were only four weeks left of the first semester and I needed credits. It was learn at your own pace which helped me to get the time I missed skipping school and getting high in the woods. In that four weeks I believe I read every thing William Shakespeare wrote! It was years before I could ever stomach the theater, but don't miss the Scottish play if anyone has the balls to perform it.
After Re-entry was a highschool for kids that got into lots of fights, and drugs, and alcohol, ect ect. It was run by of all things a Canadian, I think his name was Brian. We were in an old two story elementary school in the very center of town. (the ghetto)
The neat thing about this place was pretty much everything. You had to get past an interview with the Canadian to get in. Once in it was learn at your own pace and you could test through any class without taking it. At seventeen and working a full time job I was right where I wanted to be. It wasn't church. We had dope and whisky some mornings to start our day. We then went in and went to work. Real work. Everyone was on a first name only basis, teachers too. I find it interesting that for a bunch of thugs our chess club was full of the finest I've seen play the game. I was on the lower rungs of that ladder. One of the oddest things about the place was even our nerds could whip your ass. In the time I was there I never got into a fight. I never even saw a fight. I did see and help to defuse a situation or two, but never a fight. The leader of the kids in school was a Mexican (i think) named Bob. Big Kid with long black hair and a body the gals all admired. I remember him as the man that made the soup. On my first day there I got out of my car across the street and heard my name yelled along with a heads up! I looked up to see a football coming right at me from about fifty yards away. I caught it and then walked toward the guy that threw it. I threw it back when I was close enough not to embarrass myself. I then asked how he knew my name. He told me that Brian, the Canadian had told him I'd be coming that morning. He never let anyone enter the building without feeling welcome, every morning. One morning early in my senior year I got to school and there was no Bob. We were met by Brian and asked to go to the student lounge. It was there that we learned that he had been killed in an accident over the weekend. He and friends were out getting high and four wheeling and rolled a Jeep. Bob was in the back without a seat belt. He fell out and was crushed. The whole damn school played football that morning, and cried. Continued

More of lifes people

I remember leaving the small confines of our little school for a major high school. Went from a class of less then twenty to a class of over 1200 kids. With that many people it takes time to work your way around the pecking order. What I found out was one hundred fifteen pound half blind kids are pretty low on the order. I could hardly stand to go to school because every day was going to be a fight. If you didn't stand and fight you simply got beaten for the fun of it. Anyone that knows me knows I don't back down even when scared so I gave some lumps as well as got. One day in the locker room a kid threw a stick of old gum that hit and stuck under my left eye. It's the only eye I got left so I went over to have a word of prayer. He was a good bit bigger then me and willing to have at it right then and there. Some of his friends intervened, telling him I would be to easy and not to hurt me. It pissed me off to be thought so lightly of but hell I didn't have to fight that day. Turns out he used to run a small gang uf hoodlums in Junior High. No body with sense messed with him. I don't remember how it happened but we somehow became best friends. Our friendship has had many ups and downs over the years, I even worked for him on a few occasions. Almost thirty years I've known him, sharing our hopes dreams fears and tears. In a couple of weeks He and his wife will drive the thousand miles to spend a lil time with my wife and I over Thanksgiving. I love you Mike.
Some of the kids I fought with were never going to be friends, they were mean and way beyond cruel. I can remember how badly I wanted to kill some of these jerks. One day I got into a fight with one of these clowns for stealing a purse from one of the girls that used to hang around Mike and I. Mike as usual asked me if I wanted him to handle it. I said no. One must remember that after breaking my hand on Rodney's head years before I didn't hit people with a fist. I let him start it and then damn near killed him. That started another phase in my life with some real characters. Continued

Lifes people

I don't mind the sun sometimes. The images it shows. I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes. Cinnamon and sugary like softly spoken lies. You never know just how you look through other people's eyes.
Words from the song Pepper. By the Butt Hole Surfers.
I got a letter from an old school mate today. Got me to thinking about my distant past and some of the people that inhabited my circle then. I went to school with this person in Junior High. I was the boy your mom always warned you about back then. Second best wrestler on the team, (I wrestled High School in Junior High) Smoked a lot of tobacco and weed. Drank what I could get my hands on. Spent a lot of time around second and third base. I don't remember having been much of a humanitarian in those days. Hell I even remember going after those that annoyed me because I could. I remember one kid in particular that used to pick at me and then run like hell. He made a fool out of me many times. He had my help. One day I finally caught him and made him face me. I told him I wasn't going away til he made me. He said "Alright but you've forced me!" He then knocked me on my ass and ran. I was up and caught him in about four steps (don't know how that happened) spun him around and laid a haymaker on what was supposed to be his nose. He ducked his chin and I heard my right hand break against the top of his head. I think about him on and off over the years, and remember the lessons he taught me. Some I didn't understand til years later. When last I heard from him he greeted me as a friend. I'm grateful for his forgiveness cause it was more then I deserved. Knowing what I know now, I'd have found another way to deal with his obnoxious behavior. There was something wrong between his ears and I didn't take the time to deal with it. Rod I'm sorry. Wish I had it to do again, I'd have left smaller footprints on your lawn. Hindsight is hell. So I get this letter from a gal I went to school with, and in it she thanks me! Thanks me for the kind words and support I gave her when things weren't good for her. I remember some of our talks, but god knows there should have been more. She hung out with among others the boy I mentioned earlier, and a few other kids that were at best weird and at worst nuts. Looking back on it I could have been a better friend. I'm sorry to you as well Beatrice. Continued.....

Chicago

As many of you know I went to the windy city for the weekend. Winds were 35 mph and about 38 f with some light snow. My main reason for going was to see my oldest daughter graduate from the Navy boot camp.
A secondary reason was to meet our friend Diane, and see some art.
My daughters graduation was a nice event made even better because she was in the performing division carrying one of the state flags. She starts out her Navy career as an e 3, two notches ahead of many because of her determination to go to school and earn enough college credits while waiting for her turn to serve. Members of my family have served in every generation and conflict since ww1 except panama. That would have been my turn had I been physically accepted to serve. I am proud of all our service and dedication to keeping watch through the night, and it is now my daughters turn. She is a good person, and a brave young woman that I've a lot of respect for.
The second thing about the trip was the art show. The show was held in the Hispanic area of Chicago, and had I a few days more I'd still be there eating from all the local restaurants. My wife and I got to meet some of the artists, and had a nice chat with Diane and Maryam Hashemi. I would like to thank Diane for the tour, and opening the cage to let me see and touch the exhibits. I am no art connoisseur but with Diane's help I was able to see the many facets of the work which they do, and why they do it. I came away impressed with these people and their skills, but mostly their minds. One of the things I've noticed over the last 20 years is that we are all in a fight of some kind. Some choose to stay in the shadows and some choose to step up and confront. Diane and her compatriots step up in a big way. As a man with daughters I thank you. To Miss Hashemi...... "I don't trust the parrot!" :)

Stolen from Indigo Red

Desire No Shackles
Diane Carriere, our artist/blogger friend in Canada, and fellow artists are presenting a new show in Chicago at the d'Last Studios and Gallery at 1714 S Ashland, Chicago, Oct 7 - Nov 11, 2006. The show, entitled "Desire No Shackels", features the work of Amir Normandi, Maryam Hashemi, Marcia Middleton Kaplan, Tim Arroyo, Rosy Torres, and Diane.Diane has focused her work in the last few years on the conflict between the forces of fascism and Islamic fundamentalism, and the strong desires for Freedom and Liberty. Of particular interest has been the plight of women and children, the bringers of life and the most vulnerable.The current show has been planned for many months, but recent censorship events have placed an additional importance on the work of the assembled artists. As Diane has written:
Even in the Age of Information, it would seem that not all information is created equal: the closure of a successful 3-year-old production of Mozart's opera 'Idomeneo' because, said Berlin police, it posed 'incalculable risk' of inciting Islamic fundamentalists to violence is a stark reminder that censorship throbs with power while the lifeblood of art is wrung dry. Last year, outrage from Muslim students led Harper College, located just outside Chicago, to remove an exhibition of works by Amir Normandi depicting the oppression women suffer in many Islamic countries. Partly in response, Normandi, himself an Iranian-born Muslim, has curated a new exhibition of works by local and international artists, 'Desire No Shackles/ Imagine No Borders', to examine oppression and the notion of borders in Islam and other contexts.The work of Amir Normandi, an Iranian, is often none too subtle. The images are forthright and unapologetically confrontational. One cannot ignore the crossing of boundaries as in "Women's Rights by the Book". The woman holds a book, presumably the Qur'an. The holy book of Islam gives permission to men to break the barrier of human decency by beating their wives, daughters, sisters, and mothers, treating them as meer objects. The woman in the image crosses the boundary between being the object on display and being a real human being by reaching out through the picture frame.In another, we are shown what lies beneath the all concealing black shroud of the burqa that holds women in a portable prison. The same rigid religious ideas that keep women in thrall to the will of men also envelopes the entire state of Iran, Islam, and all who submit their freewill to the god, al'Lah. No matter what is used to hide, shield, cover, or mystify our outter selves cannot even begin to shackle what is inside, the glory that is our 'self'.In "Rose", Tim Arroyo demonstrates the ephemeral quality of reality and life. He has created a beautiful red rose in a vase using smoke and digital photography. The image slowly wafts into oblivion as all matter must, reabsorbed into the greater connectivity of the cosmos.Diane presents a stark fact of life of life under fascist Islam. The execution of women is a common occurrance in Iran. Tradgically, it is too often the only way a woman can escape the prison of the burqa and the shackles of Islam as depicted here in another masterwork. Seemly two women have been hanged - one clothed in a burqa with eyes blindfolded, the other naked with eyes closed, but unblinded. Are they really different women, or the same woman - one a body in death, and the other as the freed spirit. As with all of Diane's work, the layers can be peeled like an onion revealing far more than is evident at first glance.I would encourge anyone in the Chicago area to stop into d'Last Studios and Gallery, 1714 S. Ashland Avenue, 1 p.m. - 5 p.m., Phone: 312/922-1400.

The answer

What I've shown you is a water treatment plant for a small community. The very earth we live on filters and cleanses the water. The plants catch and hold things that might be harmful such as heavy metals. At the end of this stream is a river and a medium city. If we were attacked with a dirty bomb or god help us a nuke, I wonder what the mothers response will be? How long will it take her to clean up after us? What can we do to help? How much can she absorb?

The pic is a praying Mantis we caught at work and put outside.

Lake # one below the dam

This is the last lake I'll show you from here though there are I think two more in the chain. The answer in a couple of days.

Below the Dam

Pretty country if I do say so. On this day in the thousands of acres I was on I saw about ten people camping. Stay tuned because there is a mystery here, just not what Don expects.

This is on the upper side of the dam.

Once again Haymarsh Dam

K I'll use a different pic. Over the next week I'll show you what is on both sides of the dam. Be patient as I only have dial up.

Another of my favorite places. I like to retreat to a place where nut jobs aren't threatening to kill the Pope. Answers anyone?

Home

Michigan is known for more then just Michael Moore. It is also the land of my birth and a place of raw beauty. You are looking west toward Minnesota along the shore of Lake Superior. To the right and on the bottom is the Edmond Fitzgerald. Farther to the right is Canada. Behind me is Whitefish Point. To the left is land that was timbered by my Grandfather.

My name is Queenie

My name is queenie.
My name is queenie, and I served a man. I died today, but before I went into that dark night I got to tell a small segment of a story. It is the story of my owner and my love, the man I served for over thirty years. The man who would not give me up even though my bones were old and brittle, and I ached in every fiber of my being. As you can see I'm a vintage Ford LTD. I was bought by a man as a new car many years ago, 1971 I believe. My man is a very powerful and well thought of man though I believe I was proceeded in death in some ways by my man. My man was a Football Coach at a major southern university where he compiled the best winning percentage of all that had coached there. He then retired and became a state senator that represented his people as only a southern gentleman would, with only their best interests at heart. It was my duty to ferry the Senator back and forth to work, and his many engagements including family activities. I have been very fortunate to have had the best care by mechanics that loved me, and my man. As the years rolled by and parts became impossible to get, my mechanics made and improvised parts to keep me alive. I've always been proud to be the Senators Queen, and He always proud of me. Time is a friend of no man, or car and we both have aged. My beloved man, the one I've shielded lo these many years is ill with the most foul of the devils work, Alzheimers. I know that I'm his memory train, storing thirty years of thoughts and memories but I grow weary. It is time now for me to pass and so I shall among friends that have cared for me these many years, only to await you dear Senator.
My name is queen, and I served a man.

All men are created equal

I had noticed that one of the posters on ITM had made light of one of our friends. Said she was the most childish person he had ever seen post. I was remiss in answering right away but decided that it had occupied too much of my time. Here is my response to you and those that think that way.

Ole Abe had it wrong when he spoke of all men being created equal, woman too! We come from many backgrounds that define us. Some of these things are economic, some are race, and some are class. We don't all get dealt the same deck of cards as one another nor the same means of dealing with the cards. The simple truth is that some of us are idiots. Lets not get a big head and think NO NOT ME!!! Yes You and Me and the guy next door!!! Wanna talk about intellect? gotta see the bell curve before we judge. I hate to call a person a dumbass under any circumstance because of life experience. I have passed the test and failed the test depending on who was administering it. Lets not forget cultural differences and the time of day can have a role in what we all think and perceive. Somewhere along the way we seem to have lost sight of the fact that some are more powerful then others, and with that comes some responsibility. The responsibility to act like a gentleman would be a good place to start. Don't worry I see the log in my eye as well.

Okey doke. Here it is.

1... Things that scare me.
a. The prospect of a long, lingering, degenerative death. I'd rather make my exit real quick, thank you very much.
b. Losing my eyesight and my brain before I can read all the books on my bookshelf.
c. The big crash when oil runs out. (I won’t be here, but my kids will be.)

2...People who make me laugh.
a. My staff at work. Coffee breaks are a riot.
b. Stephinkeln (aka, da 12th Anon) at ITM
c. My totally free-spirited daughter and her free-spirited friends.

3..Things I hate the most.
a. Political correctness.
b Apologists and appeasers
c. Arrogance.

4...Things I don't understand.
a. Why time passes very, very slowly when you’re young and at warp speed when you get old.
b. Lefties. (I guess I covered them in # 3)
c. People who are sour and negative all the time. (I’d put this one in # 3, too, but you won’t let me have four.)

5...Things I'm doing right now.
a. Answering Tom’s tag.
b. Hunched over my keyboard. (No wonder my back hurts.)
c. Thinking about the long day I have to put in tomorrow.

6...Things I want to do before I die.
a. Write a book.
b. Get fit.
c. Help my kids grow spiritually by doing that myself.

7... Things I can do.
a. Take risks.
b. Lay back and enjoy the journey.
c. Let go the things I cannot change.

8... Ways to describe my personality.
a. Analytical.
b. Funny.
c. Accepting (of most things).

9...Things I can't do.
a. Run a mile.
b. Any math more complicated than grade school arithmetic.
d. Vote democrat. (I can’t vote Republican, either. Hehehehehehe. ;-))

10...Things I think you should listen to (in no particular order).
a. The sounds of nature on a warm summer evening, far out in the country.
b. Children playing.
c. Your conscience.

11...Things you should never listen to.
a. Whiners and complainers.
b. Yourself, when you’re in a bad mood.
c. Self-righteous jerks, like Snot from Oregon and Leech from the Institution.

12...Things I'd like to learn.
a. Tai Chi.
b. How to do more on the computer. (No, I didn’t forget to change this one. I just want to do this, too.)
c. More about history.

13...Favorite foods.
a. Anything that I don’t have to cook myself.
b. Old fashioned Sunday dinners, with a roast of some dead farm animal.
c. Anything with a gazillion calories in it. Why is that?

14...Beverages I drink regularly.
a. Milk.
b. Orange juice.
c. Ice cold water

15...Shows I watched as a kid.
a. Bonanza.
b. Gun Smoke.
c. The Ed Sullivan Show.

16...People I'm tagging.
a. Sorry. Don’t know enough bloggers to feel comfortable doing this.

Anyway, thanks Tom, for giving me the keys to your blog. You may live to regret it. ;-)

Your friend, Louise.

I got tagged.

Time to get to Indigo Reds tag.

The MEME of three.
1... Things that scare me.
a. Losing a child.
B. Losing my wife.
C. Liberals.

2...People who make me laugh.
a. Andrea H.
B. The folks at Zipperfish.net. (Reginald)
C. My Dad.

3...Things I hate the most.
a. Cancer.
B. Bullies.
C. Arrogant people.

4...Things I don't understand.
a. How all the smoke gets inside electronic devices.
B. Why some people beat someone just because they can.
C. Why I can't let that pass.

5...Things I'm doing right now.
a. Answering Indi's tag.
B. Sipping a good Michigan red wine.
C. Waiting for the cloths to dry.

6...Things I want to do before I die.
a. Feel the breast of a female body builder.
B. Feel the breast of any other woman that's ok with it! :)
C. Fly an ultra light.

7... Things I can do.
a. Fix almost anything mechanical.
B. Speed read.
C. Listen.

8... Ways to describe my personality.
a. Outgoing.
B. Funny.
c.Tough.

9...Things I can't do.
a.Spell
B. Surgery.
C. Vote democrat.

10...Things I think you should listen to.
a. Wind and rain in the trees.
B. The sound of a fish jumping on a cool quiet morning.
C. Your conscience.

11...Things you should never listen to.
a. Rap
B. Liberals.
C. Nay sayers.

12...Things I'd like to learn.
a. How to ignore idiots.
B. How to do more on the computer.
C. How to write.

13...Favorite foods.
a. Filet Mignon with Garlic potatoes and snow peas.
B. Pork tenderloin.
C. Pizza.

14...Beverages I drink regularly.
a. Good Beer.
B. Wine.
C. Gatorade

15...Shows I watched as a kid.
a. The Night Stalker.
B. The Al E Cat show.
C. Wild wild West.

16...People I'm tagging.
a. Louise at Search. http://researchforafd.blogspot.com/
B. The educated Shoprat. http://gluxian.blogspot.com/
C. Bandit.http://bandit36.blogspot.com/

Pat Tillman

I will edit and have something to say in a day or two.

Time off

I'm going on vacation. Be back in a week. Peace all!

Are you ready?

Are you ready for the changing price of transportation? I believe the price of gas is going to near double in the next year and a half. I don't really need to get into the details of why I think this, just look at the middle east today. What I want to do is give you some knowledge about the new technology from a mechanics point of view. Remember that knowledge is power. I finally got out of my lil suv, (Jeep Cherokee) and into a newer Honda Civic. Country of origin is United States, and it gets 38 mpg on the highway. I chose this car over some other forms of transportation that are very fuel efficient. (Jessie the horse) In today's world there is a lot of (MIS)information about how to save energy when traveling, and what car to travel in.I'll try to give you the skinny on some of the popular choices. First let me say that we will not run out of oil any time soon. The reason is that as the price of a gallon of gas goes up the usage goes down. Sooner or later alternate sources will be cheaper. Is there a magic bullet that we can use now and keep from having to support the terrorists in the middle east with the purchase of their oil? No there isn't, but we do have many little sticks we can and should throw at them. My very efficient Honda is one of them. I noticed a man commenting on ITM about electric cars and how great they are. I too am a fan but know that half the things he said were not true of most electric cars. We have all heard about the Hybrid cars from Honda Toyota and Ford. Sound to good to be true? It is too good to be true, and I know why. GM has been making cars that can burn ethanol for years, and they work very well but is that the answer? Stay tuned.

Picking your battles.

I had an experience at work the other day that went beyond the normal. This says a lot because what is normal for my life is kinda out there. (reference the five foot grinch in the post last week)
I went next door to purchase some Gatorade to combat the high heat and humidity we have been having. While standing in line I heard a commotion behind me. I turned and saw the manager of the gas station yelling at a young black man to drop em and get the hell out! Also yelling for the man behind the counter to call 911. When I turned around I saw the man in question carrying three eighteen packs of Bud Light with a large black woman pulling on him and yelling. (she was the manager) He got out the door and was running across the street in seconds. On that day the place was being cleaned by a crew from the corporation that owns the station. I then saw a large overweight white male go tearing hell bent for leather after the thief. He chased him into the ghetto across the street. I've been in this neighborhood for about ten years now, and know a few folks around. I know it's no place for a white man to be fighting a black man over some Bud, especially Bobs Bud. Yes I know the owner of the corporation, slightly. We drink at the same bar sometimes. He would have a fit if his guy got hurt doing this so I elected to get involved. I thought it would be better if the man following had some help. It was about nine in the AM and the temps were about eighty two already with about ninety percent humidity. I had too much to drink the night before. This day was going to hell fast! We followed the thief about a block up the road and then a left turn into a side yard of an apartment building. We asked repeatedly for him to stop, saying we would continue following until he stopped. He stopped! He then set his beer down while we began to catch our breath. (not lying here) He then pulls a full sized ball bat out of his pants! Saying I wish you would!!! He comes at the man I was with. I circled around to get behind the thief. The thief, at a distance of about three feet does a Willy Mays imitation and tries to knock this mans head slam off! For a fat guy he could really move! He ducked the blow (barely) and jumped back. I, at that time, should have tackled the thief but was too far away! I couldn't make up the fifteen feet between us in time. I wasn't in a real hurry to close the gap as these guys have all kinds of things in and on their person that you don't want to touch. Needles an such. I feinted towards him to take the pressure off the other man, causing the thief to turn and run into a large mass of Kudzu. Kudzu is a vine that grows up to ten feet a day and can stop a battle tank! I, at this time, was talking to the police and asking them to hurry! I turned to follow the thief into the Kudzu. About four feet in I lost sight of him and everything else! They had a room carved into this stuff! It was dark and he was not where I could see him. I could hear the other man and several people from the neighborhood yelling at me to get the hell back out where they were. At that time I decided the beer wasn't worth all this. It was after all Bobs beer. I backed out and went back to work. What I didn't know was that I'd chased him right into the arms of the law as they came up the next street. I chose not to get into a fight and he got caught. Picking your battles! I won't be doing anything like that again.

Page two

So now we wonder what the solutions are to these, and other problems we are faced with. Can't say I'd do the right thing but here is what I'd do. Iraq: Hang Muqtada from a public lightpole and leave him there for no less then three months. Anybody wanna come get him? Shoot them. Shoot on sight anyone caught carrying a weapon in public. Use metal detectors (hand held) at check points to find weapons. Set up check points at random, no more then one hour in any single spot. Any foreign fighters found would be shot on sight and their bodies shipped back to the country of origin and dumped from ten thousand feet. Run all schools in Iraq according to American standards. Close down any mosque or madras preaching violence. Lebanon: Give an ultimatum to disarm Hezbollah and secure the border with Israel or face an invasion to protect the border by establishing a permanent buffer zone. Don't like it? Tough shit, come and do something about it. You'd rather face us then Hezbollah? Don't think so. Syria: Massive air bombardment of all government and military targets along with anyone else that stickes their head up and bitches about it. It's time Syrians died for their little war instead of leaving that part to others. Iran: Give them about one week to get rid of the nuke technology. If they even so much as say one damn thing take em out hard. I'm talking Nuke bunker busters followed up with conventional bombardment of all military targets. KSA and Egypt. You have one year to hold democratic elections and let the people decide their own fate. Said fate will be meted out by the U.S. military. All madrases to be destroyed. And now the bonus round. North Korea: You have taken far too many American lives to just let you off the hook. Bury small battlefield nukes along the border with South Korea. Tell China it's their baby to control, then starve them. One more missile launch will be met with a high value target being destroyed. No-body gives a damn how big their army is if kept in a small area. Think about killing Fire ants. Pakistan: Shut down the madrases and educate the people in something else besides Islam. Any high level terrorists caught to be hung by the neck and left on public display until the bodies have ceased to be offensive. This act is meant to inflame. Fire ants again. Kick a mound and get them out in the open.

The Midle East, my view

Did anyone read the USA Today the other day. It had a picture of an old woman waving a couple of pistols or some such. She was celebrating Hesbollahs attack on Israel.
Funny, she didn't look like an islamofascist to me. She is gonna drown in her own blood before this is over, taking god only knows how many of her begotten with her. I gotta tell ya I'm just about sick of that whole arab/muslim mindset. Never have I seen a people so bent on bloodshed and destruction. I have heard that Israel is over reacting to incidents of late. I dunno, I'd get kinda tired of scraping my friends and neighbors off the sides of buildings and outa the street. I'm also not much on the idea that it was palastinian land before Israel came into being. I could be wrong but I think it was a part of Jordan. What would they do with the land anyway? Sit and bitch cause no-body would feed them? It is my belief that those folks were born to fight, and islam keeps em stupid enough to. On that note we turn to Iraq! I have come to believe that there are some very fine people in Iraq, but by no means a majority. The majority seem islam stupid. They really don't have time for Jew killing, so they kill one another for being the wrong type of muslim. Even through all that they still find time to protest the war Israel is waging for her survival. Bloodthirsty bastards will take shots at our forces or their own people but scream bloody murder when the retaliation takes the lives of their loved ones.
How about them innocents? What innocents? You mean the Lebanese? The ones that won't purge their own democratic country of the terrorists? Makes them as bad as the French during WWll. It's funny to see the Syrians willing to fight to the last Palestinian, and The Iranians willing to fight to the last Syrian.
Geez everyone fallin all over themselves to push the other into a fight. Remember highschool? On that note lets look at The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Sorry gang but any country where one of our fighter pilots has to be escorted around and wear a vail cause she is a woman aint no ally of ours. Don't even get me started on cultural correctness! (my word) More women then men are born in this world, and keeping them under subjugation is never correct. What was that? Islam? Sigh! Continued

Thanks to Louise

Words To Taps
(Note: there are no "official" words to Taps, below are the most popular.)Day is done,gone the sun,From the hills,from the lake,From the skies.All is well,safely rest,God is nigh.Go to sleep,peaceful sleep,May the soldieror sailor,God keep.On the landor the deep,Safe in sleep.Love, good night,Must thou go,When the day,And the nightNeed thee so?All is well.Speedeth allTo their rest.Fades the light;And afarGoeth day,And the starsShineth bright,Fare thee well;Day has gone,Night is on.Thanks and praise,For our days,'Neath the sun,Neath the stars,'Neath the sky,As we go,This we know,God is nigh.

I first learned the words to taps in summer camp as a child.

The Grinch

Well junk week resumed today at work with the arival of a fifty ford flathead, a 70 Toyota land cruisor, and The Grinch. The grinch was set down outside and next to our building by a nut. The man yelled and cursed Grinchy, then left for an hour only to return and yell and curse Grinchy again. He then left for about three hours then returned and took Grinchy with him.

Blackbirds an such

Ohh do you remember these? The black one is for sale...first 25 takes it. Sheesh. The other one is a one owner til death seperates them.

Aint to pretty in the heat of the afternoon. Temps about 100 in my area. Thought I'd mess with my new camera phone. Not a bad pic for such an ugly topic huh? I will get serious next post....Maybe

Life, dreams and yonder the next hill

K it's time to stick my nose in. Everyone has heard that life is short and to live hard, get what you can. My wife is fond of telling me life is an adventure, and with her it is. I was asked by a professional once what I liked best about my wife. I answered, "She takes me along on her adventures!" I moved about a thousand miles from home to be with my wife, leaving kids, parents, sister, friends galore, a business, and a career. Not a day went by that I didn't question myself or my motives. As things didn't go well I was tempted to throw in the towel on many occasions. It's been nine years now and I'm finally feeling at home. In the early months the homesickness was like a fist in the face. I was bewildered and lost. didn't have the social contacts I was used to, and no one to help sort it out. All the more reason I'm amazed at our forefathers coming to this land never to return home. As time goes by you make new friends, gain the respect of new groups. A partial list of problems would include some language issues, behavior issues, (we don't think and act the same under like circumstances) homesickness, and no support group. (who ya gonna talk to when you and the misses are fighting) pluses? Yep there's a few. Self confidence is gained. Financial discipline is a must. New friends, climate, and sites to see. This is just a small sample of what one is up against when one leaves their home space. The best thing I can say is that it's important to know and be comfortable with who and what you are. It's a mighty big apple out there. Make sure you can chew the bite you take.

The fourth

I am the Flag
by Ruth Apperson Rous
I am the flag of the United States of America.
I was born on June 14, 1777, in Philadelphia.
There the Continental Congress adopted my stars and stripes as the national flag.
My thirteen stripes alternating red and white, with a union of thirteen white stars in a field of blue, represented a new constellation, a new nation dedicated to the personal and religious liberty of mankind.
Today fifty stars signal from my union, one for each of the fifty sovereign states in the greatest constitutional republic the world has ever known.
My colors symbolize the patriotic ideals and spiritual qualities of the citizens of my country.
My red stripes proclaim the fearless courage and integrity of American men and boys and the self-sacrifice and devotion of American mothers and daughters.
My white stripes stand for liberty and equality for all.
My blue is the blue of heaven, loyalty, and faith.
I represent these eternal principles: liberty, justice, and humanity.
I embody American freedom: freedom of speech, religion, assembly, the press, and the sanctity of the home.
I typify that indomitable spirit of determination brought to my land by Christopher Columbus and by all my forefathers - the Pilgrims, Puritans, settlers at James town and Plymouth.
I am as old as my nation.
I am a living symbol of my nation's law: the Constitution of the United States and the Bill of Rights.
I voice Abraham Lincoln's philosophy: "A government of the people, by the people,for the people."
I stand guard over my nation's schools, the seedbed of good citizenship and true patriotism.
I am displayed in every schoolroom throughout my nation; every schoolyard has a flag pole for my display.
Daily thousands upon thousands of boys and girls pledge their allegiance to me and my country.
I have my own law—Public Law 829, "The Flag Code" - which definitely states my correct use and display for all occasions and situations.
I have my special day, Flag Day. June 14 is set aside to honor my birth.
Americans, I am the sacred emblem of your country. I symbolize your birthright, your heritage of liberty purchased with blood and sorrow.
I am your title deed of freedom, which is yours to enjoy and hold in trust for posterity.
If you fail to keep this sacred trust inviolate, if I am nullified and destroyed, you and your children will become slaves to dictators and despots.
Eternal vigilance is your price of freedom.
As you see me silhouetted against the peaceful skies of my country, remind yourself that I am the flag of your country, that I stand for what you are - no more, no less.
Guard me well, lest your freedom perish from the earth.
Dedicate your lives to those principles for which I stand: "One nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
I was created in freedom. I made my first appearance in a battle for human liberty.
God grant that I may spend eternity in my "land of the free and the home of the brave" and that I shall ever be known as "Old Glory," the flag of the United States of America.

Page two

In Racing we had a saying that was used at the bars in the winter when we would all get together. "If yer racin yer cheatin, if yer talkin yer lyin." It wasn't really cheatin so much as an intelligent reading of the rules. That's what I used. Some of the teams were blatant about cheating, and the tech inspectors had no clue how to catch them. Enter Billrilla. Bill would wear work cloths and show no affiliation with me or our group in the early days and at any new track. He could wander around and chat with the other teams as they worked on their cars, getting a good look at what they had. He would try to verify what he saw, and then bring me the info. In some cases I would just sit on the info and we would just go out and win. Every once in a while when the cheatin got way outa hand I would wait til we lost and then file a complaint to the tech guy. Usually had to hold their hands while they looked for what I told them. We gave that up after a while when they started shutting hoods at the sight of Bill. Bill called a few on the things he had seen, and some wanted to fight him. I made sure he didn't hurt anyone but let him answer the challenges after the night was over. Funny how everyone had somewhere else to be when the officials were out of the picture. One time we were working on a car in my shop. I was under it and Bill was on top in the engine bay. We were using some heavier then air solvents to clean stuff. I was breathing the fumes and soon noticed the world going black. The last thing I remember was reaching out and hitting Bill on the leg, and then I was out. When I came to, I was outside and on my side with Bill asking me if I was ok. If I hadn't hit him on the leg it might have been five or more minutes before he would have noticed a problem. As it was he had me outa there in seconds. Thanks bro.