Time

So I've now had the whole summer off, and live at the lake. Cool huh? Not so much.
Having the summer off is great if you have the money and ability to do things that interest you. I spent mine reading. I read until I could no longer see books, and then I modified my puter so that I could read online. (and y'all thought I spent the summer looking at naked pictures) I read anything to occupy the time. If a subject came up, I'd google it. So I learned that a Transman is a woman that becomes a man. (don't ask) I learned that they can function in their own best interests, if you know what I mean.....
I learned that sometimes we don't come out with the right stuff to match who we are. (in my case it was Dale Earnhardts eyes) I learned that from a genetic view, I don't have it so bad.

surgery

Surgery went well this morning. So well that I'm posting this myself. Danger of a detachment for a couple weeks but then lessening over time. Doc says the things that could have gone wrong didn't I now need reading glasses... Not sure what I see yet but it is better then the best I've ever seen before. Thanks again for all the thoughts and prayers.
Tom

This is it

Well my week has finally come. I'm to have surgery Thursday. Don't have much to say but thanks to all that have called, e mailed, posted and prayed for me. I sure hope it's only gonna be one, but it's his will. No matter what happens I'll have my wife update the blog. Thanks again for being with me.
Tom

Update: Surgery scheduled for 9:45 Thursday morning.

The pick

So the Senator from Arizona has made his choice. Most that know me know that I'm a conservative, better known as a republican. So I'm watching the race unfold and wishing for my guy, Duncan Hunter, of San Diego. I get John McCain and....... What the hell? Sarah Palin? Who the hell is this broad? So the Russians and Iranians are going nuts, and I want Reagan, and I get Palin. Awww Shit! She can't even name her kids something that makes sense. Track? Trig? What the hell? She is going to have a nuke football? Awww what the hell? Barry O has no experience, and is a Muslim. Sarah has no experience and is a nut. Guess who just got screwed! Yep..... You and Me!

Continued

I want to know what her tax stratagy will be. She raised taxes to the tune of 6 billion dollars on big oil so she could give all Alaskans a check for energy help. Check was for twelve hundred bucks. I wonder who the oil companies passed that cost onto? More later.

More...
Most folks that read this blog know that we have an Alaskan cop that checks in now and then. He says Palin was a good choice, though she is under investigation for firing his friend. Hmmm
My comment about the names of her kids might seem a bit low blow but it speaks to her judgement. Think about it. A kid with downs syndrome. Geez that's tough. Being a handicapper myself I feel for her. So who is going to give the kid all the extra care he needs over his life?
All of this doesn't mean shit against the fact that she has less experience then Barry O. So all the adds that were run the last month are now null and void. We needed lots of help in the Midwest. Romney. Doesn't matter if you like it or not, it is what it is. Will she get my vote? Absolutely. Will I like it? No.

Georgia

Anyone paying attention to the Red Bear? The thing with Georgia is a civil war, that Russia had no business getting involved in. They don't seem to be leaving either. No reason to. The Georgian army made several mistakes, including not blowing the damn tunnel through the mountains. Once again Vlad the bad wants to back things up thirty years. Yep they are some deadly mofos. We need our assets out of the middle east so we can deal with Vlad and his broken down army. Newsflash, no one is scared of su 25 ground attack planes here. My neighbors would lunch on them. Armour is another matter. If I were in charge, I would sink the lone carrier at Poti, and anything else they had there. No need to try and go back to the Ukrain, they don't want you! One carrier group would eject the Russian Armour from Georgia in a week. The kill rate of an F22 is 6 to 1 against F15's. The 15 has never been beaten by an enemy. Base em somewhere around there. Nukes? Use em if you dare! Will they get out of the silo's? Hell we don't even know if ours will! We do know for a fact that we can knock at least some of their stuff down. Can you hit ours? Stay within your borders, or be put there! Right now it's about the oil that flows through Georgia. They want to comtrol it, and the flow of money. Remember that we broke them a few years ago with a huge economy, They think we can be had with oil. Don't forget to shoot the first Democrat that advocates opening up the strategic oil reserves. We need them to fight a war, not lower Bubba's gas bill. Bottem line, eject these thugs, they won't pull the trigger unless we enter Rissian territory.

Storm

We had a bit of a blow last night. Trees down everywhere but my house. Couple of docks damaged and a house hit. Lots of trees snapped off. I feel fortunate that I had one limb come down, but it hit the neighbors fence. Cleanup begins tomorrow.

Friends

So we got a card in the mail yesterday. Thought it was a very early birthday card. Turns out it was an anniversary card. Ours! We seem to have forgotten it along the way. Thanks to the friend that remembered.
We were talking the other night about family and friends. With D and I so far away from family, it falls to friends to help with life's little crises. Thank god for them. Our neighbors are our family. We have a great group that takes care of one another as only family would. If I could give my daughter one bit of advice it would be to hold your friends close. Polish them as you would fine silver, and you will have everything you need.

Old 2

Pic is of a deer walking along the water at my dock.
So I went to a party at TT's house on the fourth. We ate lots of BBQ and listened to a band. The lead is family to friend and reader, "That Man". I like horns in my rock. The band was Modern Disruption. I'll load a song if the CD ever comes my way. So we seem to have a bad neighbor, they are renting their house out by the night or week. Some idiot put a sound system out on the dock.... and all the renters abused it. The music would start around six some mornings, and end around nine that night. I must be getting old. When younger I would just go turn it off for them, now I get the law. I'm going to try and stop the rental of the houses in here on a short term basis. We had a bunch of drunks running up and down the street in a golf cart tossing empty cans. Later that night a neighbors for sale sign got knocked over, and the brochures in it scattered. Tommy wishes he could still see! The summer is dragging by. I wish I could be at work.

Old

Pics are of some of the plumbing that Anthony and I installed, and Anthony wiring the pump, and of the new grass.
So whats been going on round here.
Since having to leave work a couple of months ago, I find I'm not ready to be retired. Not even close. When we bought this property some years back, I had a vision of what it would look like when finished. When my neighbor built the house, I told him to leave the lawn to me. I used to be a landscaper some years back, and thought I could make many things happen, and fast. Enter twelve hour days in the heat and things didn't.... happen. With the help of my neighbors John Deer, I put a front lawn in.... and the drought took it.... again and again and once more. The lake side was burnt clay, aka white rock here. Well, no job to go to, it was time for a lawn. My neighbor, to be referred to as TT for Trusty Ted stopped me. Not without irrigation you don't! So with the help of his right hand man, and my eyes for a week.... Anthony Tyler, the trenches were dug and the pipes buried. A pump was installed. One week later we got grass. By this time my vision was too bad to do the work by my self, so I hired the same people that contoured the land to help lay the sod. Ten and one half pallets of grass, damn near killed me. The grass makes the retaining walls I built years ago stand out. I did good work then. The grass gave me a backache for a week. I used to be able to do all of this in a week by myself. continued

Emory

So I'm back from Atlanta. I saw the two surgeons that will be working with me. The guy that is going to do my cataract surgery is their version of Dr. House. I was told time and again that I was to ignore his personality, and know that he is more then brilliant. He is very abrupt and confident. He told me of the risks and then told me he would do his very best to make me see again. I found him to have a sense of humor that the others don't see. He sighed and said to me "I wish I could just get the easy ones." I laughed and said I felt the same in my job some days. So the deed will be done on the fourth of September.
Day two I was seen by the retina doc. He told me that sometime after cataract surgery I would have a retinal detachment that will require more surgery. Sorry to be the pessimist, but it will happen. He then said "I will fix it." So the road is a lil harder then I first thought it would be. It's ok though as I have faith and friends.

Update on Daughter.
The Navy has delayed my girls deployment to Kuwait a couple of weeks. In the mean time, she got an email asking for volunteers to go to Iraq for a year to work with spec ops out in the field. She wanted to switch to the longer deployment in Iraq to work with Iraqi women and children. She was told it was to late to stop the Kuwait deployment. She leaves for training on Sunday. Oldest, it doesn't matter where you go. You're the best.

Ps to Mike Andrews and my neighbors, Ted and Judy. It meant a lot to me to hear your voices on my answering machine when I got home.

Ronny's page 2

There was so much that I wanted to share about Ronnie Roberts, but I find that I can't. I don't have the eyes, or patience for it. I will tell you a story or two though.
As I lost vision, I tried to keep up with the classes Mike paid for. It was I that asked for a certain type of training, and I didn't want to let him down. The training was about thirty five miles from my home, and ended about ten at night. Ronnie would always offer to drive me home. The trip would add about an hour and a half to his night. When I would tell him that, he would say, "Meho, you are more important to me then sleep. I'll keep my phone on an extra hour cause you're so hardheaded." Love you too Meho.
In between being ornery and mean, causing trouble, and headaches, Ronnie would pull peoples butts out of whatever fire they found themselves in.
One night in late fall while driving down a rain soaked two lane he passed a young woman walking along the side of the road. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and only a light blouse. The lack of shoes on a cold rainy night bothered him enough to make him turn around and go back. He pulled up alongside her as she was walking and asked her if she wouldn't like to get in the truck and at least be warm and dry. She accepted and as he drove off, she told him that she had had a relationship-ending fight with her boyfriend and he had thrown her out in the rain dressed like that. Ronnie went to Wal-Mart, asked her her shoe size and went in and bought her some shoes and socks and other essentials, came back out to the truck and gave them to her. He then drove to the Embassy Suites. He had a voucher for three nights and so he checked her into the Embassy Suites and said, "Hon, you got three days to figure out what you want to do and where you want to go." He left her his number and then went home.
A mutual friend of ours found himself living under a bridge for awhile. When he went back to work and had a place to stay, he had no ride. Ronnie would pick him up and take him to and from every day, even though it was out of the way. When I asked him if it bugged him, he said, "No, he needs to get back and forth." With Ronnie, it was just that simple.
I hope that God finds his soul as beautiful and valuable as I do.

Ronny's page

This is a pic of one of my MEHO's. MEHO is a cross between my hero and my homey. Otherwise known as one of my buds. The pic is of him riding his motorcycle in his work uniform. This is the first of two pics of him in the local paper this month. The second was the pic his family used for his obituary. His page is one of the most complex I've ever tried to type. Ronnie was 53 when he died, and not more then a couple of months removed from his latest bar fight. He was a sudden man, one with the bark still on! Ronnie didn't pick fights, he welcomed them. He reminded me of my dad that way. Daddy slapped his last bar bully around at the age of seventy four. Ronnie said he would kick my ass about once a week. He also said the reason he didn't was cause he was afraid I wouldn't stay down when knocked there. He also said he loved me. Good thing too, cause I wanted to kick his ass too, but I loved him. He was a whistler, and to me that sounds like fingernails on a blackboard. I used to get him back by cutting loose with my air hammer when he was hung over. We used to try and do lunch about once a week. We would vent, and try to help each other fix cars. Ronnie and I didn't hang out after work much, to many miles. We did however stay close with work and the phone. He is one of the guys that has called me several times since my having to leave work. He got moved to a different location that my boss Mike owned, and it was good for both of us. I could miss him without his damn whistling, yet we could still be close. Continued....

Again, Angle Oak

I got a call from one of the guys that I work with today; that makes all but one. He was just checking up on me, hoping I'm ok. He wanted to tell me the latest news, I already knew. I had been out the night before with two other guys from work.
I got to thinking about old friends, kids that I grew up with. Sometimes it's hard to be a thousand miles from home. When I first came to the south, it seemed like a foreign land, one that I would never fit into. More then ten years have gone by, and I hardly recognise the world I came from. I have offered silent prayers that Phillips girlfriend would beat the cancer in her breasts, and become his bride. I've watched Bruce try to hold it together while his wife Kitty seemed to wither away. I've seen "That Man" live through a bad wreck that ended a football dream, but then drank at his wedding. I remember putting my faith into friends and neighbors to take care of my Dad as he had hip replacement a couple of months ago, while I couldn't get to him to help. I came to realise that my life spread out like the Angle Oak, covering a large place and being touched by many other souls. There isn't much garbage in my life, the people are real. The love can be touched. Seems I'm not so far from home after all, but then I've known that all along.
For all that call, or wright to me on blog and off. To those that think of me, and pray for me, to those that simply hope for me. I love you too.

The worm turns again

The pic is a sunset on Lake Murray, taken from the south side of Bombing island.
News all over the place. Daughters deployment is back on. I'm going to Emory to see a couple of Doc's on Jul 2 and 3. I don't mind telling you that I'm nervous, but also hopeful. The idea of not having these big thick glasses is exciting.

When good news is bad, or when bad news is good.

Pic is of some goofy girl on a tube behind my bouat.
Got a call from my daughter the other day. Seems when she got home from her pre- deployment leave, she found out she wasn't going. The person she was to replace decided to stay for another tour. It would have been nice if this happened while there was still time to re-enroll in school. Daughter will try and go out with the November group. Yes John, she is seeking the deployment. You don't move up if you don't move out. She has always been special to me, and with hard work she will be special to many others as well.

Update

The pic is of my Son-in-law. No you can't see him but he is there. He is hidden behind the splash of water that he is making as he fell off the tube. I thought it fitting to use that pic at this time. Now you see what I sometimes see!
Surgery update is as follows: No real word out of Emory yet. We are supposed to hear something today or tomorrow. Next option is Charleston.
I had a great time with the kids this week, even sharing in the joy of my daughters promotion to Petty officer. My Son-in-law brought me a hoodie with the insignia of his unit on it. He is with a group that my friend A.J calls " the bump in the night". It's cool as it is the one they wear, and not the one you can buy.
I did pass on the message from John, that they should refuse to deploy, and write poetry instead. John, they were amused but respectful. I have asked for a pic of my Son-in-law with a camel, and for their safe return.

A special note of thanks to Bruce and A.J. from work for calling to check up on me. The gift of your friendship is more prescious then gold!

Monday night

First pic is standing on my dock looking out to the ski cove. Second pic is my Doberman guarding the sleeping dog behind her. If something were to comeup she would turn and wake him before running for the house!
So I've been off work for a week now, and am starting to run out of things to do. I find I miss being at work and the banter back and forth of the guys. I was with them for ten years, and even the new guys (Bill and Michael) I've grown fond of and miss. I don't worry much about going blind, as I already am.
My records have been sent to Emory to be looked at by their big gun, meanwhile I wait.
In other news, my daughter is going to be here for this week on her pre-deployment leave. My son in law is coming also. The news I didn't tell you is that he will be deployed to Iraq just before she comes home.
Newlyweds apart for a year and a half. (sucks to be them!)
I'm going to smoke a turkey like at thanksgiving so we can have a holiday meal together.
Remember when we were kids? I do. We used to play softball every day. We all had the Huffy bikes with the Banana seats and the high rise handlebars. You could put the bottom of your bat in the rear forks, and it would stick out the side. A glove could go on the handlebars or the bat. We would ride down to the elementary school two blocks from my house to play ball every day. Back then I didn't know I was blind. My friends never told me.

Tuesday Morning

It's Tuesday morning. I've just come in from watching the sun come up over the lake while drinking my coffee. My wife took me into town yesterday, so that I might put the rest of my tools away. It might be awhile before I can pick them up again. In little more then a years time I've gone from having the beginning signs of a cataract to needing surgery. My doc tells me that she will find "the experts expert" to fix my one remaining eye. A team. People with skilled hands to fix whatever damage might occur during the procedure. People that have been down this road before. The odds of a good outcome in normal people is around 98%, but I'm sure reader and friend John from Canada wouldn't be impressed. He landed in the 2% group.
The only odds of success I've found for people with my problems is around 25%.
It's Tuesday morning, and I'm going outside to be in the sun.

The right reverand Wright

Enough of nightmares and distant storms, it's time to get back to what it is we do here.
I've been watching The reverend Wright, and his effect on the candidacy of Barrack Obama. Seems whitey has misunderstood him. Turns out he wants a diverse but equal society. Heck he even wants equal education! You can read his latest drivel here . I as some of you know but others don't, was a student of The Michigan School for the Blind. Funny thing about blind folks: color doesn't matter much. I would never presume to tell you that they're not prejudiced because they are. They don't like certain tones of voice, and accent. Color? Nope, don't even understand the concept. So back to education. I went to school with a bunch of black kids. We went to class, smoked, played sports, hung out, and learned about life together. Some of us were close! How close? Close enough to spend the weekends together in each others homes. Close enough that my brother Michael Baily carried my butt off of the mat when I blew a knee wrestling out of town. It hurt so bad, all I wanted was my mama. All I had was Mike! Some days I miss you so much I weep. Everyone should have a big brother like Mike.
So back to Reverend Wright, and his ilk Reverend Al, I don't know what you want?
The world moves at it's own pace, and we are all judged on our character, even you.
I don't like to hold any man to a pedestal because all flesh is suspect if not rotten but there are at times flashes of wisdom. One of my favorites is from a man that used to run around on his wife. He had a dream, something about being judged on the content of your character nad not the color of your skin. I think I'll leave the judging to someone that can see your character, and yours too Reverend Wright! Meanwhile would you kindley get out of the political process and go back to your flock!

Storms

As you can see in the pic, there is a storm close to my home. I took the pic because I've been feeling unsettled. Not yet angry but you can see it in the distance. My energy is widespread and I'm unable to focus. It seems that every time I write something I let it sleep a day and then I can't stand to read it. It isn't that I've nothing to say, but I've plenty to say. Just not sure what it is. I can't seem to get angry.

Lines

The pic is of Bob and Betty Mallard. I think they have a nest in the bushes to the right.
It's been a tough week for my family this week. My Dad had hip replacement surgery and none of us could get there to help him. He is a very private person and didn't tell me until I couldn't do anything for him. He preferred it that way. He is an old wolf that I believe still could walk through hell on Sunday. He spent his time on the line. My Great Grandfather came to this country around eighteen eighty. Ireland to England to Canada, and then the UP. His son, my Grandfather was a cook for a while in Europe. The time was WW1; that's how he spent his time on the line. He would come home and raise four sons that would take their place on the line. Dewey, would dive for the Navy, and blow things up in WW2. Edward would fight at Iwo Jima with the ones that raised our flag. William, would be a member of the 11Th Airborne, and earn three purple hearts in Korea. Lenard would get as far as Japan on his way to Korea. They along with their sons and the sons of their sisters stood the line. Some didn't get recognised and some did. Cousin Wayne whose name should be on the wall but agent orange killed after the war. James who was supplying the Marines in Lebanon. Remember Beirut? Yep the Navy was there too. James died not too long ago after a long battle with HIV. Some folks stand the line a bit different than others. (chuckle)
I saw in our paper this week that the 218TH SC National guard is coming home. The first group got to N.C. this week. I read where a man spent the night at the airport to greet his wife when she got home after her time on the line. She had been gone a year to Afghanistan as a Chaplin. It would be five more days before she got home so her husband came to her. They had about an hour together. I remember when she left. Don't remember who they relieved. I think it was a group of folks from the NY National Guard. The line goes on forever, and it includes Cooks and Generals, Chaplins and Soldiers, and people from every walk and profession. This week I found out that the line will now include my Daughter. It is her turn to take the place of someone that hasn't been home in a while. As a father I'm a bit apprehensive but I couldn't be more proud.

Where did quality go?

I've been noticing that I can't get anything done well lately. Had a flat over the weekend and had to go to a tire store and buy some skins. I had to re balance them at work that week. Bought a dishwasher from Sears a while back. Nine hundred bucks and eight months later the motor went out. Warranty fixed it and eight months later.... you got it; the motor again. This time no warranty. Thanks Sears and Whirlpool for a great product. Next time it will be Bosh or someone else.
So we decide to put concrete under our deck instead of using decorative rock. So we got a couple of estimates and took one. Big company with five crews. Work is short so the price was good, and I was excited to get this done. Tom C was in the business of finishing concrete and doing masonry work for near ten years so I wasn't too concerned about the job. Slam Dunk; right? So after waiting a week we got a team of Mexicans with a truck load of trash that came to prep the site.They needed to put some fill down to build up the site. I had a pile of sand clay mix for that purpose at the side of the driveway. Next to their truck. After much leveling and such they needed product. Run up to the pile and get some right? NO! Lets instead take it out from behind the retaining wall next to the site of the slab! Ohh and we need more so we'll get some by digging a hole in the side of a small hill near by! Thus moving the dirt that I had put down over many hot days, compacting and seeding. Stay tuned for the conclusion of Where'd the yard go?

I win

Once again here on Lake Murray spring has sprung. The pic is of a stand of Bradford Pear trees in full bloom. The white flowers turn to green leaves in about a week.
Don I don't know if you're home or out west but it's time to get the clubs out here in Carolina.

Ruths page

I walked across the street to come around behind her, the feeling I'd been fighting all day starting to get the better of me. All the neighbors were with her, sitting in her driveway on lawn chairs watching the days proceedings. I put my arms around her neck and said,"I wish.... I wish" then my voice broke, leaving me the little boy that had always needed her. "I wish you didn't have to go!" She lived across the street and one house to the left, she and her husband Woody, when he was alive. They lived in a house that he built himself. It was red brick and neat as a pin, with a single car garage.
I remember helping Mr. Woody with his camper when he put it up for the winter. He liked to have it level, and resting on several points to hold through the long winters. He paid me in change and Diet Pepsi. I still think of him every time I have a diet cola.
She, was my own real life guardian angel. As a child I was all boy, and too rowdy to survive. She was a retired surgical nurse; she had other ideas.
As a young child I used to get sick every winter with a high fever that would require a trip to the hospital for a shot. I remember my mothers worried voice on the phone to Ruth, and then her hands with a cool cloth. I remember the time I jumped/fell off the top bunk of my brother and I's beds to land and gash my eyebrow. She patched me up before sending me to the hospital for stitches. She later pulled them out in her bathroom. I was born to fix things. I spent my summer days when not playing ball fixing lawnmowers, and then putting engines in cars. Ruth watched me do all of this from the picture window in her house. Every time I got tangled up in a piece of equipment she would fix it. Me that is! One day the top part of our garage door came loose and swung down just as I was passing under it. The door hit me in the back of the head, sending me to the ground. I saw the black as they say when you're about to go under. She was right there checking the lump on my head and calling my mom.
As I got older the trouble got worse. The point finally came when she had to run my butt to the doctors, covered in blood.
I as a typical teenager had stolen my dads bad ass dirtbike and went racing. At over eighty miles an hour a dog ran out infront of me while I had a friend on the back. I layed it down and lost most of a leather jacket and all the skin on my forarms and left knee. The knee was also broken and swollen like a basketball. the kid I had on the back was ok but for a skinned kneee so he picked the bike up and then me. I got the bike to start but couldn't drive it the block and a half home. The kid I was riding and the kid I was racing got me on the bike facing the wrong way and one rode me home.The other went for Ruth. good as gold she put me in her car and took me to my Dr. Yep she knew him! They cleaned me and stitched me while Ruth took great delight as Dr. gave her the syringe to administer the tetanus shot. So here we were on a warm summer day watching people pick through her things as she cleaned out a lifetime of memories, in preporation to going to live with her son. "I wish you didn't have to go" I said. She reached up to hug me and replied, "Me too, but it's time."

Protection?

This is the view looking out the gate where I work. The large tree in the pics isn't usually lying on top of that truck, and it's not usually snuggled around that van. I and another person had just come back from lunch and gone back to work when Mike came by and asked if I had seen the fallen tree. It was like having the elephant in the room suddenly come into view. We cut the van out, but the truck was holding the tree up so we left it for folks with better equipment. The tree kept trying to roll in the gusty winds while we were cutting the van out, and I was reminded of something I'd read.
It seems many christians believe that we are all here for a purpose and that we will not be harmed until we achieve that task. By the standards of my life this wasn't a close call, not even on the same book. I nearly pissed myself when stuck on a cliff once because moving meant falling some seventy feet into a rocky river. I wonder though if I've a task; what is it? Did I do it already? Will I? If I don't, will someone else do it?

Slavery, the human condition

As stated below, Mrs. C and I went to the low country oyster festival on Sunday the twenty seventh. The festival is held at
Boone Hall plantation
I've been to the plantation many times and have often wondered about the past inhabitants of both the big house and the slave quarters. I was raised to know that slavery was a bad thing; but did you ever wonder why? If it was so bad then why did many slaves stay on as servants of the same people? I remember reading stories in a book called "When I Just Can Remember". It was full of accounts of the lives of slaves before and after freedom. I don't really know what life was like for most Africans before slavery, but I presume it to be much like the American Indians. I do know something of the lives of the slave though, and thought I might compare it to the not too distant past of my family. Before I walk along on this journey though I must answer a question that I have wondered about over the years while always knowing the answer. Why did they stay? They stayed for the same reasons that you and I stay in jobs, marriages, homes, and other situations that might not be best for us. They were comfortable! Some days were good and some bad, but they were do able! They also had value! Even as slaves they had value, and were proud of that value. Value is as important to us as air! The amount varies, but fact remains. The slaves at Boone Hall had it better then some, I'm sure. They had housing with a fire place and tile roofs. They also had garden space to grow the plants that would spice their food and nurse their health. They also supplemented their food by fishing and hunting. They had medical attention to help them stay healthy.(though not good even for the times) They had a school to learn to read and write. By contrast my Grandfather had a wife and seven children in a small one room wooden shack in the northern Michigan climate. The old place didn't even have a solid door for a large part of the year! Heat came from a wood stove, as did the heat for cooking. Water was brought in from a pitcher pump in the yard, same as what watered the animals. Medicine was what you grew or knew, and cuts were stitched by Grandma with a needle and thread. Whiskey was the Betadine of the day as well as the sedative. I remember seeing a pic of my Dad as a bit more then a toddler wearing what looked like a flour sack with the arms and head holes cut into the bottom. Grandpa worked a shift at the quarry, and then tended the farm at night and on Sunday. Grandma did the hunting to put meat on the table because she was around home and the best shot. Ammo was a need that couldn't be wasted at that time. The farms first tractor came on a down payment by my Dad, with his Airborne jump money. This meant that Dan and Molly the draft horses could semi retire. School was about a mile up the road, but the cash crop paid for new shoes for the kids once a year. No school if your chores weren't done. Even as a child myself we were poor. We rented from Black people to have a place to live, and grew lots of food to see us through the winters. Mom made the bread that we ate each other day. How poor were we? I grew up fifty feet from the boyhood home of Malcolm Little, also known as Malcolm X. He could tote a gun and hate whitey. We had to work to live. What I would say of slavery is that its evil is in the creation of dependence, and an inability to make ones own way. Welfare is just another form of it. With few exceptions we are all slaves to something or some ideal.
One of my favorite memories is of helping my mom to make the bread for that nights meal. I was just four, but already kneading the dough.

Angel Oak

The pics are from Johns Island South Carolina. The wife and I went down to the coast for the low country oyster festival this past weekend and I thought we would visit this grand old tree. It is a Live Oak; scientific name is Virginia oak or something like that. This tree is the oldest living thing east of the Mississippi at one thousand four hundred years plus. It is twenty five feet around at the base with its longest limb at something like eighty five feet in length. The branches are so heavy that they grow low and sometimes rest on the ground. I've seen some that have taken root where the branch touched the ground and lived after the tree was dead and gone. Here in the deep south the tree isn't deciduous. I think it loses some but not all of its leaves. To stand under the great branches is to know that God is in his heaven.

Election Day

K so here it was the Saturday that we've all been waiting for, Election Day!
The day was wet; bigtime wet! Cold like up north too! So I was talking to a buddy that just happens to be the GOP Chair for our state. I asked him who he was going to vote for. Two days before the election and niether of us knew where we were going to put our vote! After a bit of comiseration we parted ways still not sure. I've a friend in Detroit that keeps sending me Ron Paul stuff to the point that I had to tell him that I thought Ron was a nut case. I hurt his feelings for sure because the emails started to fly. As stated my guy is and was Duncan Hunter. Don't know what is so hard about that but he had no chance. Non! I didnt take the time to debate my friend on the merits of Dr. Paul versus Dunc, or Huck, or anyone else. I was sure I'd ruin a friendship that is worth more then gold to me. After taking the advice of fellow reader Don, I had attended a rally in support of the Fair Tax. We were across the street from the first GOP debate when I got to hear from Duncan, and Mike , and Tom Tancredo. I knew then that Mccain was'nt my guy even though I believe him to be an honest and thoughtful person. Sorry once again John, but there is more to the pic then just the war. Sorry to Ron also but there is a reason to have troops over seas, and some of it is to spread american money in certain areas. Get over it!
So the wife and I go to the polling place in the rain; it's about 1:30 and there is a line but we don't have to wait outside the building like we do on the weekday votes. It was a steady line to get to the three voting machines, but no problems. After the vote we had a flat on the way home that caused me to change a tire in the cold rain before getting my car home. I don't think it was devine intervention though, even though I voted for Huckabee. What I would tell my friend in Detroit is that ideas and ideals are great; but we have to work within the real world. This means that if MCcain wins the nomination he will get my vote! The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

I scored first

This is going to seem like whining and I apologize but every once in a while....
I'm a good Irish Polish lad, I work hard I drink harder, and I compete with the best of them; but this latest thing....
What's it like to lose your vision, and know that there is scant reason to believe that you will get it back? Let me give you a brief overview of what I'm looking at.
I have a disease called Sticklers syndrome. It is a hereditary disease that affects Collagen and the connective tissue in my body. The outward signs are bad hearing and severe nearsightedness. We as young people can do things with our joints that others can't. We seem to be double jointed, and can bend in directions most can't while we are young. Things that will break your bones are dislocations to us. Our eyes on the other hand have severe nearsightedness along with glaucoma and cataracts, we also have retnal detachments. We don't hear so well either. We get osteoarthritis as young people and have a high rate of joint failure; mostly hips and knees. I've had a dozen dislocates on each knee before I was thirty. I used to wrestle against high school kids when I was in junior high. While I won a lot, and set records for pins I also took a beating in the knees. I exacerbated the damage by racing Moto Cross on the weekends. At that too I was exceptional. I don't have any way to know if the extra flexibility of my joints helped and gave me an advantage or not, but I beat folks that had very much better equipment than I. Folks that know me know that I have one eye that I see with, the other being artwork by a clinic in Grenville SC. At fourtyfive I'm losing the vision in my eye due to a cataract. The symptoms are loss of acuity and a haze around everything during the day. I am a mechanic by trade and a good one in my field of expertise. As of now there are many jobs that I cannot undertake because I can't see well enough to perform. Soon I will lose my ability to drive and then my job. The future at this point looks bleak indeed, so I try as I did on our trip to see as much as I can. One never knows when the end of a thing is upon them. I looked at the palm trees in California like I would never see the likes again, because I might not. I looked at the nearly bare breasts of the bartender at the Sweetwater Saloon the same way. I looked at the faces of my daughter and her family knowing that I might not see them as clear again ever. I am ever grateful for what I have, but I worked hard all my life; I've fought with everything I have, and dammit I scored first! I'm way behind at halftime but dammit I scored first!

Our Trip

Sorry for the delays but it's bowl season, and I can't think until my Wolverines play. (Loved the smackdown on a man and a team I don't like)
I'm reminded of that John Denver song, It really is a long way from Charlotte to San Diego, and made worse by some child kicking the back of my seat all the way. Mom and two little ones were continuing on to India, god help the folks on that plane! I now know what jet lag is, and I'm not a fan; I was tired all week. This was the first Christmas We've had as a family in about five years I think. It was the first Christmas at the home of my daughter; This moved my wife more then me for some reason. One of my favorite treats is the lil Biscoff cookies that you get if you fly Delta Airlines. I've never found them in a store, but when I got to Daughters house there was a whole sleeve of them waiting for me. The trip just kept getting better after that. While there we went to the USS Midway Museum. This was my first time on a navy ship, and it was kinda cool to be on one that I had built a model of as a child. So now you know something about me that you didn't, I used to build model Navy war ships. My Son in law (jeez it seems weird to say that) was kind enough to indulge us by driving us and taking us anywhere we wanted to go, and knowing where Mrs C could find the things to complete her Christmas shopping. Thanks T. We also went to T's uncles house for a family lunch on Christmas eve. Uncle Cliff's wife is Vietnamese, and so was lunch! What a treat! We had chicken soup though I used a fork for the noodles and meat. Sorry but I would have starved if I had to use the sticks. :) I had my first shrimp chip (I could eat them for hours) and a mint salad. We had Vietnamese egg rolls that were to die for, and took a bag home with us. Mrs C and I snacked on them while waiting on Christmas dinner. Uncle Cliff is retired from the Navy, and so we had some of his stories. I wonder if I might be able to get an invite for next year. I have a step grand child that is a sweet human being, and Dad and step Mom are going to keep her that way I'm sure. Daughter cooked both Christmas eve and Christmas dinner; they had a couple from home over for the eve dinner that were new to the area. It was a bit tough seeing my lil girl all grown up with a life and a family of her own but I sure am proud of her and T. The pics are of a swift boat that I took at the Vietnam monument on base at Coronado, and the beach at same base called seal beach; where the bad men train. Last is the flight deck of the Midway. I had almost forgotten that we got to chat with a survivor of Pear Harbor from the Utah on the Midway. He told me that when they abandoned ship the Japs were strafing the water so they would dive under when they saw a plane until it passed thus avoiding the bullets.

Home

Thought I'd let everyone know that I'm home again.
We had a wonderful Christmas, and I found out my daughter can cook.;)
More later.

Happy Holidays

I was talking to some extended family the other day. It’s time to get the Christmas cards in the mail, and I needed some addresses. We spent some time catching up and reminding each one another that we do indeed love us all. In the course of conversation I did mention that I’m having trouble with my eyesight. My uncle asked what I would do? I said that I didn’t know but that I wasn’t going to lie down and die over it. I believe that problem can keep til after the first of the year. My friend and a fellow blogger Bea Furman is dealing with the death of her Mother, she passed on the tenth of December. I remember my Mother telling me that Christmas time was the worst time to die and should be avoided at all costs. Seems she remembered some kids she grew up with that lost a parent near Christmas, and they were a long time getting over it. I know what Bea is going through as I lost my mother on 12-21-98. She was right about it taking some time before the holiday spirit returns. This year the wife and I are going to fly out to California to spend a few days with my Daughter and her Husband. We’ve already mailed some cheer and hope to have a good Christmas as a family. It will be our first in years. I look forward as well to seeing another new place that I’ve never been. It might surprise some of you to know how often you are in my thoughts and as the holidays approach, my prayers as well. Sorry John, I don’t have time to pray for you the rest of the year! ;) Due to the trip we won’t be putting up a tree this year so I’m putting up the picture of the one we had last year. I doubt that I will find the time to write again before we return so let me say it now. Merry Christmas and may God bless you each and every one!

Home again

I grew up in Lansing Michigan, a solid blue collar town with solid Midwestern values, and lots of water. I am the son of a Upper Peninsula hillbilly. (otherwise known as a dirt farmer) I got a call from my ex wife the other day, (yes when I have to) she fills me in on things that she thinks might be important to me. She got a call from an old friend that thought he had seen me on the street. He wondered if I was home and would I be looking for a job. She then told me of the big changes in the town since I was last there. I got on Google maps and took a look around my old home town and remembered. I remembered childhood friends I haven't seen in ten years, and old girlfriends. I remembered family that has passed on, and some that haven't, and my special places in the woods where I went to think and be close to my god.
I remember that you can't go a mile in any direction without finding a tree I planted or a basement I helped build, or the sidewalks I poured and finished with a loving hand. Both my Dad and Uncle Len were concrete people too, teaching me to sign my work with the quality I put into it. I walked to school each day on sidewalks that my uncle built, while my ex walked on sidewalks that my Dad built. My first kiss first job first love happened in that town. I've friends that mean more then life, that I met in that town.
The auto plants where we all thought we would work are gone, leaving acres of concrete and asphalt in the center of town, and the kids are driving rice burners rather then the Olds Cutlass's that we grew up with. Some of the woods that I used to roam are now houses and more. Some of us are already gone to whatever awaits at lifes end.
I had one of my best friends visit the other weekend. I met him in that town though he also doesn't live there anymore. I was proud to show him the wonderful color and warm days of fall in my home, and as we went out to eat breakfast on the shore of the lake I realised the places don't matter if the people are important to you. I have a neighbor that I love with all my heart. We do so many things together, and I think of him as my big brother. Every project I get into I know I can complete because he has my back. Every problem too, he has my back. I can't even think of a time when he won't be there next door. I love him as much as I've loved anyone, cept my wife and so this begs the question...What and where is home?
for me it is where I am loved and can love back.

Old Sins

I was thinking about old sins the other day. Not the kind that Christians would think about but much bigger and deeper then the crap that the ten commandments deal with. Everyone knows not to lust after your neighbors wife or cow etc etc. Doesn't stop a damn soul from doing it anyway. The kind of sin I'm talking about is the mistakes that we make on the road we call life. simple misjudgements and bad decisions along the way. These are the things that we and others live with sometimes for many years with bad effect at some points. If I'm driving too fast and get in a wreck I might get hurt or hurt someone else. The results might be minimal or far reaching but soon apparent. What if I pick the wrong job? How long will it take me to change? What are the effects? What if I pick the wrong girl? How many years before I make a change? What then? What of my political choices? Can that affect me? It's funny how much we take for granted about the future, never believing in the long term effects. Sometimes I've seen the effects of some decisions twenty thirty even forty or more years later on some people. The reason? Hindsight! Hindsight is the only way one can see an old sin, and judge it for what it was.

Bendable minds

“Minds are like books, sometimes open and sometimes shut, and not always when they are supposed to be.” The quote as you know is mine, I've used it a bunch. Some here know that I have a brother, what most don't know is that I don't speak to him. It isn't because I don't love him because I do very much. The problem is, he has a bendable mind. I'm not talking about someone that can see the errors of his ways and learn another direction, I'm talking about someone that can see any ones point of view and follow along blindly. I lost my brother to the seventh day Adventist church. Most that know me well know that I'm a very spiritual person though not in ways that most Christians could ever understand. While I believe I have inside information I don't profess to be right. I don't choose to bend minds. I instead choose to look for wisdom. I get it from knowledge coupled with experience.
I told you about the warning I got about an up coming movie, The Golden Compass.
The warning came from a mind bender. The author of the book the movie is based on is a mind bender. Each in their own right believe that they are correct and thus have something of value to say. I took the time to see the movie trailer, and to read up on the author. Looks like another fun story written by another whack job. (see Dr Seuss)
I've got some friends that read this blog that are special to me for the very reason that they aren't bendable. I was thinking of John and Dcat for sure. I don't always agree with what they think and say but I love the strength that they have about them. Indigo red is a searcher of wisdom as well and not a mind bender. I have some friends that twist in the wind unable to confront their own wonderful minds, unable to step where the water is deep and you can't see your feet! I've always tried to guide people not to my point of view but to use that which they have to see the fuller picture. So this night I wonder which is worse, to be a leader and wrong or a follower and wrong? I don't have the answer but you can bet I'm going to be leading the parade!

Wisdom and the stinky foot.

First I would like to thank all that thought of my wife and I as we dealt with the loss of her last parental generation relative, her Aunt.
With age comes experience, we hope. Sometimes I think I’m pretty damn smart and other times I am the king of duh. I was reading some mail I got the other day, and in it was a piece warning about a movie that was deemed offensive to the person writing the mail. I guess the movie was by a guy that wanted God dead or something or other. The problem was the person hadn’t yet seen the movie! I saw another person on a list warning against the evils of Harry Potter, the godless little pip-squeak! I expect this kind of thing from the younger more right wing set but these were older people. By this time in life we should know the difference between something that’s bad for you and something that is just entertainment. The first reaction to this stuff is to break out the I word and move on. Problem is I don’t think at least one of these people is an idiot. (yes that I word)
I would like to repeat myself by stating something I said to John recently, “Minds are like books, sometimes open and sometimes shut, and not always when they are supposed to be.” Knowing that we will one day be found with our foot in mouth, lets all try and watch where we put our feet because of the dogs out there.

Pa Jack and Miss Daisy

Today I go back to LA. (Lower Alabama) I had hoped to be spending thanksgiving there but we have to spend the first part of the week instead. The picture is of Pa Jack and Miss Daisy. As you know, we lost Pa a couple of months ago. Now we go to lay Miss Daisy to rest. I believe that sick as they both were they kept going for each other, and lose of one was the lose of both. In any relationship there are highs and lows and times when you just want the other one to be quiet. As time goes by some problems can be quite serious and require a lot of work. I can only imagine what it took to be married sixty seven years. We learn methods of coping, such as selective hearing and maintain private spaces even if only in the mind.
I was having a conversation with a friend yesterday about religion. I’m not sure he is a believer but that is for a future chat. I told him that I believe in the hereafter but wouldn’t want to state just what that entailed. When Jesus said, “In my fathers house there are many mansions” He didn’t tell us what they looked like or contained. We don’t even know where this place is. What I do know is that Pa and Daisy are once again together. I am a member of an Internet list that is comprised of mainly Christians and I thought of them this week. I even thought of asking their prayers in support of Miss Daisy as she fought (maybe) for her life. I then decided that they pray too much and for silly things having lost sight of how and what we were supposed to pray for. My answer came as it always has from the nun that taught me how to pray many years ago.
Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins as we forgive those that have sinned against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen. The line about thy will be done is a statement of fact, an affirmation not a request. I prayed for acceptance of that will.

I'm Back

Well we are back from our weekend in Pigeon Forge Tennessee. I thought we were getting a quiet weekend in the mountains but found myself in the biggest tourist trap for families on the east coast. The traffic was bumper to bumper and stop and go most of the time but we were almost on top of Dollywood the amusement park. The house we rented was very nice but sat between two small hills so it stayed dark late into the morning thus causing Tom to sleep til nine at least.The pic is of a covered bridge that was built in 1875. Yes we drove across it.

John and Jean Paul Sartre

"Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance".

John I want some of what you're smoking! Quoting a Marxist loser with that? Knowing that I'm an inbred savage that never went to university might explain some of my derision, but maybe not. We have some grads that read this blog and I hope someone wants to help out with a discussion. As for the quote above I might agree with the middle "prolongs itself out of weakness" but the rest is trash. Way to godless for me. Having seen the unseen and known the unknowable I have learned there is a reason for every hair on my head as well as every baby that dies. I don't much believe in chance when it comes to death either. I believe in a warm woman on a cold night, and a cold beer on a warm night. I believe that every sunrise was put just where it was just for me by a benevolent being. Yours are a bit different then mine just for you. I believe that when death comes I will have had a part to play in it and that it won't be the end. I don't believe that I have any knowledge of what comes next or who will be there. I know without a doubt that I have seen into the future enough to affect its outcome hence the knowledge that there is one more powerful then me. I believe everyone must live with their own burdens and that we can lighten or increase the loads. I'll give a short example. Yesterday I was sitting eating my lunch in an interior room at work when a young and plump woman came in crying and begging for money for food. My first thought was just another ghetto dweller preying upon the rest of us. I gave her a couple of bucks just to get her out, knowing that she would just go get a beer or two. She got real happy and the tears vanished like magic as did she. I believe she went and got a couple of King Cobras and that is for her to live with. I believe I gave her enough to get a meal at the Hardees and I have to live with that! I don't have to live with having told her no and to get the hell out. I believe there is no such thing as nothing.

The Jena six and racism

I wonder if any of you are following the plight of the Jena six. They are the six young black teens that were arested for beating a white student in Jena Louisianna. They were originally charged with assault with intent to kill I think. They now face lesser charges and the theme of the protests in Jena is to let them go. It seems Blacks don't get equall justice in the south! The blacks and whites have their own seperat stories for sure but I gotta wonder where we are when six people can beat until unconcious using fists and feet, and someone wants us to let them go. I was listening to Reverand Al Shithead saying that the one still in jail wanted a peaceful demonstration, not even any name calling so as not to disparage his name! Uhh disparage his name? Dude I hate to tell you this but this is your second arrest for assault! This makes you nothing more then a thug that needs to be locked up. I saw his mama crying as she left the courthouse when they wouldn't let him out. There comes a point when you switch from socking a guy in the nose to trying to kill him. Seems to me that when you get your feet involved while the person is unconcious you've crossed the line. Had I been that boys Daddy I'd have shot you like the rabid dog you acted. But what do I matter, I'm white.

I've used this picture before, and have chosen to use it again. The reason is simple. This is one of my favorite spots on earth! (so far) This is home turf for me, not where I grew up but where I'm from. This is a lighthouse on the great inland sea, and you are looking toward Duluth Minnesota some four hundred miles west toward the setting sun. Behind you some fifteen miles is Whitefish point with all of its tourists and museum. Notice that there is no one in the pic. We, my wife and I and daughter had the beach to ourselves as far as the eye could see on this August day.
What you don't see is just beyond the lighthouse is a few driftwood logs washed up from some long ago storm or the winter ice cap. Upon one of the logs is a leather chair with the back legs broken off creating a slight reclining pose facing west to the setting sun. I have no idea who put the chair there but I know a bit of what they're thinking. To spend any day on Lake Superior is to commune with the raw power of god. To do so in isolation as can be done here is to recharge the soul. I like to look out at the water here knowing that I'm looking at a graveyard.
This is the shipwreck coast. I've always had an affinity with old graveyards, has something to do with respect for the past and its inhabitants. The person that put that chair on that log was watching the sun set on another perfect day and trying to drag every minute out of it. In the summer there it gets dark very late, about ten or later so there is lots of day to have. One might wonder why I've brought all of this up but there is a point. I have decided not to look west at the setting sun no matter how beautiful, and not to look out upon the past wrecks of many lives but to turn the chair! I have been blessed with a string of beautiful sunsets so long that I've forgotten how bright the dawn. Lets take a look.

Ramblings Two

Have you ever noticed how many people stay for years in a relationship that is going nowhere and doesn't bring any joy to their lives? I'm not talking about people that put up with run around Ron or Rachel, just normal people that don't really have anything but history going for them. I wonder when contentment turns to just plain tired. I wonder how one faces a gaff like the beauty queens and continues to move forward. It seems to have a good bit to do with the perception of risk and reward that everyone faces each day. Sometimes we can't get moving because we don't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes it's just easier to stay put rather then risk the gains of yesterday for the promise of tomorrow that we can't see. As for our beauty queen, I might not think much of what it is you do and doubt your ability to make it in this world without your looks but I damn sure admire the effort. I remember reading that Henry Hudson while at a dinner function with the movers and shakers of Detroit and the automotive scene said that he was starting his own company with fifty million dollars to get it going. Even then no one said much, but one voice said "give that man one white chip!" He thought he had a kings ransom but couldn't even make it to the second hand before he went bust. Bet he wished that he had stayed pat. No one has seen Steve Fossett in a few days......I think he might should have stayed put. Then there is Bill Gates........ Never mind. I don't know the difference between living life to its fullest and being a damn fool but I hope we do it just the same.

Ramblings

I had been thinking lately about why some people seem to go farther then others. This seems especially true when one applies the Peter Principle. The Peter Principle has it that we promote the stupid in an effort to get them out of the way instead of firing them. I've been wondering why some people seem so contented with their station in life. (This has at times included me) I wonder why we aren't teaching entrepreneurial skills as well as math in school. I wonder when we began to use one point in a life to determine the value of a human being. I wonder how one is to see the value of the people around them, to spot the good with the bad. I live in the great state of South Carolina. Yes even the same county as the latest news maker, Miss Lauren .
I have watched the teachers of our great state take it on the chin for this gals gaff. I will tell you that I know and am friends with five teachers in Lexington County and not a dumb ass in the bunch! Not one! As for the young lady, the jury is still out on your intellect. I'll tell you that I don't think being in a pageant helps you at all! Your comments were not your own, just some PC talking points that came out in a moment of extreme stress. Time to learn a hard lesson about when to shut up. The idea of being a model doesn't seem to me to be much of an ambition but I guess it pays better then being a mechanic. (I like to think I provide a personal service though) So when does a life end? When do we stop reaching and just plug on to the end that awaits us all? At what point do I stop taking classes and stop trying to better my knowledge not only of my trade but the greater world? I spent seven years working in a state (not this one) office complex as a vending machine / counter person. I was going nowhere and loved every day I spent with those people.
Why?
Continued

Pa Jack

I wanted to talk about another kind of Hero. One of the type that didn't get enough recognition for the jobs he had done over the years. He is Pa Jack, or just Pa. I first met Pa about ten years ago at the funeral of my wife's Mother. Pa was her brother in law. Pa's place is on about eighteen acres of red clay in LA. That's Lower Alabama to all you northern folks. In years past he had a junk yard in his back yard but it was mostly gone by my time. I have a set of heavy springs from it that Pa gave me to hang my swing on so that it would be comfortable. Out back of the yard was a gravel pit that he owned. He sold the sand, clay, and gravel out of that hole for fifty cents a yard to any that would come and dig it. Most people would find a hole of several acres in their back yard to be an ugly thing but I loved walking in the pit when I was there. Pa didn't walk with me by then because of his legs. He had lived a hard seventy seven years at that point but he would tell me where the deer were likely to be and ask about any other tracks I might have seen. He and I watched my beloved Wolverines lose to UCLA early in that season. He consoled me with a quick wait til next week, and then we watched his Crimson Tide. I'm a bit ashamed to say I don't remember who won that game! Pa was also a quiet fan of Auburn when his grand daughter went to school there. The reason for the junkyard was that Pa was a mechanic that worked out of his home. He worked on about anything. He didn't have the modern conveniences that I enjoy so if he needed something special he built it rather then bought it. No job was too large either, He told me of changing car body's out in the yard with the help of a tree and a friend!
Pa and his wife (Miss Daisy) raised three beautiful daughters that all turned out to be good decent loving human beings. They also had a part time daughter in the form of a niece. (my wife) He told the husbands of his girls, "You know where you found her! I spect you to remember where to bring her if you have a problem with her!" I got the niece so he was a lil bit softer with me but I knew not to cross him. One day I got to wondering where he had been and what he had done. Like anybody some of it was good and some bad but Pa answered any question I asked. He told me of going all the way to Ohio to work. Living in the cold to make a dollar about a million miles from what a Bama boy calls the real world, he did what he had to do to survive.
He was a proud member of the war effort in WWII. He wasn't a vet like so many were, but he did what he could. He worked on the aircraft. He installed the bomb sights in the Mitchell's. He may even have set up the sights on the planes used by Jimmy Doolittle and his Raiders over Tokyo. I saw Pa about a month or two ago while there on business, and as I went to leave he once again said to me to hurry back cause he wasn't going to hang around forever. I went to see him this week, any time with him warms my heart. As I placed my pallbearers boutonniere upon his casket I remembered, and I wished for one more football game, and one more talk.

Dog Fighting Two

Sorry it took me so long to get back to all of you but I've been busy, what with being herded around by this cat and all! So to continue; I got to my new home and promptly got into a bit of trouble. Dad raised his voice and I took off around the house and found an empty dog house to hide in. Dad tried to coax me out but I wouldn't come. After a bit he crawled in and hugged me and gave me a treat. I knew it was OK to come out. I've since learned that these people and other animals I share my home with are the best family a girl could have. So I was reading the news the other day (don't look at me that way, of course I can read! You see me writing don't you?) and I ran across the indictment of Michael Vick for dog fighting. I read all nineteen pages of it! It looks like they've got some shady characters willing to spill the beans on him. His lawyers may get him off but the deed as they say is done and the cat is at the food dish! Many southern men think of dog fighting as a sport, much like cock fighting and no big deal. Well it is just like cock fighting, but it's a big deal. Folks get hurt and die because of it. Both animal and human. The money for these endeavors come mainly from the sale and use of drugs. I know because I've seen it and can smell it a rabbits run away! Most damning is the knowledge that he had a rape stand on his property! This is a device that allows a breeder to breed females that are far too aggressive to let a male near them. This is only used for fighting dogs because no honest breeder will breed that kind of female! As far as the breed of dog goes I don't think most American Bull Terriers have evolved to the point that they can be considered any thing but fighting dogs. My test is to see if they are aggressive to humans (it doesn't matter the breed) and if so put them down.
In the case of Mr. Vick and his friends the truly heinous thing is what happens to the dogs that lost or refused to fight. As I heard on the radio this week Mr. Vick should be allowed to compete on the football field this year for the Atlanta Falcons. If he looses then it should be his turn to be electrocuted, or hung by the neck, or body slammed till dead. All of gods creatures deserve the love that I have, but not all creatures are gods.

Dog fighting

For those that don't know me, I'm Reeses the Doberman Pincher. I belong to Tom and Mrs C. Tom (my dad) calls me Beans because I'm a Red Doberman. He likes Cajun food and red beans is a favorite. I'm going to tell you a little bit about my life before I was rescued by the C's, I was trained to be obedient and took many a whoopin if I didn't understand what was asked of me. My master put a plastic garbage bag over my head and nearly killed me because I got into the garbage one night. Now I run at the sight of them though Tom tries to console me. Our job, my family and I was to guard a meth lab in Lexington county. The food was scarce and the love was non existent. As soon as I was able to have babies I was made pregnant by a dog named Brutus. I didn't have any choice in this matter. My pups were taken away at an early age and I've no idea what happened to them. One day the sheriff came to the property with a bunch of men and my master let us out of our kennels. I ran and ran. Hunger followed many days until I was picked up and put in doggy jail. I was in a cage with a lab named Bob that wouldn't shut up....ever! I think he barked in his sleep. I heard that I wouldn't likely be adopted out because of my breed. They only let Doberman rescue society members take us and their homes are full of all the dogs that were bred to fight and otherwise be mean and obnoxious. It soon came to my attention that some of the dogs were killed after a period in the kennels. Mostly the ones that can't be adopted out, like me. I learned that tomorrow was to be the day they put me down. All I could do was cry. About lunch time a man and two women came to see us dogs. Everyone got up and started yelling pick me pick me! I just stood there knowing I wouldn't be chosen but then they opened my cage and took me out! They took me out and left Bob in! I heard the old dogs whisper that the older woman was Miss Jo of the Doberman Rescue and she had brought Mr. and Mrs. C to see me! To make a long story short, I went home with Miss Jo spending the afternoon with her two dogs.At about five pm Mr. C came and put me in is car and took me to his house, the place I now call home. continued....

The Dance

Life it seems is one big dance between the predator and the prey. What most people don't realise is whom is whom. When I hold myself up to the mirror I see the prey, but I know the amount of havoc that resides within my soul. To see clearly I'm the predator..... or am I? The answer is the same for me as it is you, we are both. The degrees differ between the souls and the time of life.... (whats going on) but you can eat as well as be eaten depending on the day and the evil brought by said day. This all has to do with how I choose to view the beings that come into and out of my life. (if you aren't watching your fellow man then you're missing the greatest show on earth) I'd like to talk to you about some folks I've met in the ghetto where I work, some are prey and some are not. First up is a white male named Bill (name changed for his sake)that I think is a slightly deranged Viet Nam vet. Bill is about as self sufficient as anyone I've ever known, growing a wide variety of food on an inner city lot feeding himself and many others. Sometimes he has no choice as his watermelons are easy game. I have several fruit trees growing in my yard from his cuttings and whips. He is most definitely prey to those around him and has the bruises to prove it.
I met a man named Andre' the other day, as he wandered into the shop to get out of the rain. It is most unfortunate but any time a black man comes into our shop without a car you know he most likely has no good in his heart. When it is raining we don't give anyone a hard time as long as they stay out of the way and by the door. So in walks Andre' and he just keeps on coming and chatting all the way. I had some time to kill so I spent a few minutes talking to him. He told me that he was from Angola. He had made it to Texas about seven years prior and was now on his way to the upstate where a job was waiting for him. He was riding the big grey dog (Greyhound) but couldn't stay in the bus station due to the thugs and other elements there. I assured him that he would be safe in the shop until it was time for him to board. He then asked me why those black people didn't work. I told him that some were indeed working but that their work was to prey upon the weak. I can't begin to tell you how excited he was to be going on a new adventure and to have a job waiting. I hope god watches out for him as he is most certainly prey. We have a man that comes in to get water out of our water cooler from time to time. He is a black man with no legs, and so uses a chair to get where he wants to go. He has a business cleaning the wheels on cars in the college area by the bars and restaurants. What he is really up to is panhandling. He will sometimes begin to clean a wheel without asking and get you to give him money to stop. This works well on the lil college girls and the prim office ladies. He intimidates the hell out of them. I guess they're afraid he's going to jump up and chase them? So the local merchants got together and tried to have him run off. Said that he had no business license. No but what he had was a big gun lawyer that liked his wheels clean on his car, also liked the mans company at lunch sometimes. He has a license now! What he didn't have was a way to keep the rain off. I saw him the other day coming in from a gully washer. He looked at me and said he thought he'd drown before getting there. I gave him the umbrella out of my car for the next time he got caught out in the rain. I've no idea whether he is prey or predator.

The madman returns

Well after about three lost posts and a very busy time I've finally got a lil time and google working. I didn't get to do a fourth of July post but will mention that we went to a neighbors for a party. While there I got to talk to Sgt Don of the U.S. Army. The host threw his back out and Don stepped in to do the cooking for the whole crew.... about thirty people. Don will be leaving for a second tour in Iraq about the first of the year. I didn't ask very many questions about tour one because I didn't feel it was right. He did tell me that he was in Mosul in 03. I thanked him for his many years of service and wished him well. He did say one thing that I wasn't able to find the time to ask about.... He was glad to be going back to Iraq as opposed to Afghanistan. He did tell me that he tried to soak up as much history while there as he could. I did ask if the uso packs we send were appreciated and delivered in a timely manner. He replied that the packs were a godsend and the phone cards much needed. He went on to say they really depend on the USO.
In other news my Daughter and Son inlaw were in a wreck, totaling his new Ford truck. Both are ok (thank god) though Daughter was out of work for two weeks.
I'd like to mention a few charactors from the hood where I work but that will be for the next post.

Not worth a bullet

Crystal Ferguson was in the news again this week. She is one of the pregnant crack mothers that got arrested in Charleston in the early ninties for delivering crack to her baby. The supreme court agreed that her privacy was invaded with an illeagle search of her urine for drugs. Medical University of South Carolina tested her and found her under the influance of crack twice. The second time was at the birth of her baby Virginia. The hospital shared the results of the tests with the law and Crystal was arrested for child abuse. She sued and she won a settlement thanks to a bunch of female liberal lawyers that made her their poster child. Fast forward fifteen years and another child. Here we find her living in a trailer in Columbia SC getting a new start. She is home with her younger daughter and a house mate. A man comes into the house and throws gasoline at Crystal that hits a lit candle setting the place on fire. Leaving her to burn to death along with her younger daughter he takes the badly burned female house mate outside and rapes her. The liberal media want to portray Crystal as a victim and an all around good girl. The fact that she was a poor single black mother seems to excuse a lot. One would think that the crack and two children (without dads wasn't enough to wake her up about putting herself and kids in bad situations. I don't blame her for what happened to her on the last day of her life but I know what happens when you lay with dogs.
On another note we had three cars broken into at work thursday night. The glove boxes were open and contents scattered. A hammer was found lying near one of the cars. Just another crack head looking for change and something to sell. The cars were in a fenced in lot with razor wire on top and only accessable at the street. Even still we leave all of the doors unlocked so as to prevent windows from being broken. There is a reason it's called dope! Next time try the door handle!!!
It seems too many people out there arn't worth the price of a bullet.

Sy and others from the distance

I guess I should give you a bit of background before telling you this post. As you can see from the picture on my page I have very poor vision. It was decided that I would attend school at the blind school in my state starting with my fifth grade year. With a few exceptions it was a good move. I no longer had to suffer the daily taunts and picking of the other kids. Also as John likes to remind me, "in the valley of the blind the one eyed man is king." So any way.... I was on a Google list of alums from that school the other day and came across something that really cheesed me off. Under the title of "Thugs" someone had written some very ugly things about a man named Sy. Sy was our gym coach during my time there. He was the wrestling coach earlier then that. This person complained that Sy gave him a bad grade because he wasn't able to do a chin up. Claims Sy told him that he made him sick to the pit of his stomach. Fair enough, now it's my turn.
The first time I met Sy was when he dropped my older brother (also blind) off at the house after having been to a wrestling meet. Sy drove him all the way across a major city, then turning around and going back. My brother wasn't a very good wrestler (too slow between the ears) but he gave it what he could and never quit. Sy liked that in people. So we fast forward a couple of years to the fifth grade and I meet Sy on a professional level. One of the very first things he did was to put me in the pool to teach me the magic of swimming. It took him about two years to overcome my fear of water, never once yelling or getting impatient. Before he was done he had me diving and dragging a dummy off the bottom of the pool. I still have my Red Cross advanced swimmers card somewhere. Sy wasn't the first to try and teach me, he was the last. With his help I did a forward somersault off of the single bar. His arms stretched to catch me if I missed the landing. Climbing to the top of a pole we had hanging from the gym rafters and reaching out to grab a rope and crossing over to it and down. Teaching me the basics of wrestling so I might have some success as I got old enough to try it. I remember him lining us up to explain the use of a jock strap. He told us they were Chinese Nose Guards, and waited to see if someone would really try to put the leg straps behind their ears. I remember asking him about his Red Cross cards, he had one for a fifty mile swim. Not bad for a smoker. He told me that I too could get one of those, and I believed him. I know of his sorrows and losses. I know of his hugs after a bitter defeat to a bitter foe. I know of his making me go out and speak to same foe and shake his hand, acknowledging his effort and sportsmanship. I know that he was one of the ones that began to bring my head up and be confident in who I am. Thank you Sy.