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.