Loose Laces

Gathering at the river

2012-01-27T08:45:00.000-05:00

Looks like I am going to have to upgrade my Windows OS from a 2002 edition of WinXP Home up to Win7 Professional. XP is giving me a lot of problems but before I shell out $139 for the OEM I am going to attempt to allow CCleaner to unclutter the Registry. I’ve used registry cleaner-outers before and always ended up with an unbootable or unstable PC on which I had to reinstall the OS. I have to use Win7 Pro because I have one program that will not run on Win7 Home edition and I have to have it; it is the accounting program for Carolyn’s business stuff. Win7 Pro has a built in XP “virtual machine’ which allows my 2005 copy of Quickbooks (QB) to work. Win7 Home—if I could use it—costs $89. Microsoft knows how to make money. Of course, I could buy an upgrade of QB to the latest edition but it has a price tag of $159. I would then reinstall XP and hope for the best. Intuit, the makers of QB, also know how to make money. Linux doesn’t have a decent single-entry accounting software package; if it did, I would never use Windows again. If I go missing for a few days pretty soon; you will know I an cussing my way through a Windows and needed software install or reinstall. I have Linux on my Droid and on my laptop which will allow me to access the net when I need a fix of compassion from you, my friends.

I am still working on taxes and will try to keep XP limping along until April 15.

Has anyone seen the movie Avatar? I got a Blu-ray copy just to see how good a picture the player and TV have with that format. I’ve never viewed a Blu-ray movie before but I have read that the improvement in video quality over a DVD is remarkable; we shall see.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Thursday recess

2012-01-26T08:08:00.000-05:00

From Hávamál–Old Icelandic poem

Cattle die, kinsmen die,
And each man too shall die.
I know one thing that never dies,
A dead man’s reputation.

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Wednesday's breaking wind

2012-01-25T12:24:00.000-05:00

Crap like this has allegedly happened three times this winter in and around Johnson City. What the hell are these parents thinking?!
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We are expecting Jeremy and Courtney to be here this weekend; have a safe trip home to East Tennessee, young’uns.
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There is only one reasonable reason wealthy Americans place a lot of money in offshore banks like Republican nominee candidate Mitt Romney has in the Cayman Islands; he must be hiding a lot of it. I don’t trust American banks either, but I would surely use them unless I was hiding my loot from someone or something … something like the IRS. Mr. Romney, you have no idea whatsoever as to what it means to be an everyday, working, middle class American. Have you ever been not wealthy or were you, like Ann Richards said of G. H. Bush, born with a silver foot in your mouth?
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Have a pleasant Wednesday!
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Tuesday morning

2012-01-24T10:45:00.001-05:00

This winter has me totally confused. Yesterday and this morning the yard was full of robins, both male and female. Carolyn says she has occasionally seen a flock in the yard ever since winter began. Migrating robins usually do not get here until mid-February (early February last year) and the males are always here for a few weeks before the females begin to arrive. My theory is that a mixed-gender flock has wintered in the area but I have never known it to happen before. If so, it sure is going to crap up the old “I just saw the first robin of spring” ritualistic saying. Weatherman says we may have a bit of snow this weekend coming.
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I didn’t think Sammy was going to be with us today, but Carolyn has gone to pick him up. Things are changing more rapidly in my life than my simple hillbilly mind can keep up with.
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Be sure to check out and “Like” Mark’s Fading America Facebook page. He has been and will be posting photos from his travels around the country, each a story of the way America was just a few years ago.
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The body shop called and said the Escape is ready. They pulled the bottom part of the air ducting out and cleaned it. Maybe the insurance company held the body shop to its estimate and refused to pay more to clean the entire A/C system. This all leaves me with a bad feeling; what if one of us is later on hit in the eye and blinded by a shrapnel of flying glass?
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Have a Tuesday!
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Monday + Rain = Monday

2012-01-23T11:26:00.000-05:00

Another rainy Monday, however the temps are mild and should reach near 60°F (15.5°C) this afternoon. I don’t recall a January being this mild, but then, I try not to remember any January.
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Spastic; my word of the day is “spastic”. Spastic is a word my friend used often, but not enough to wear it out. He used the word to comically describe someone who was acting more out of control than was usual for our circle of friends. We were all spastic at times and he never failed to include himself when needed. I used to go spastic when I caught him cheating in a card game but I soon got over it; dealing from the bottom of the deck was the same as breathing or eating to him. At times, innocuous spasticity was rampant at our Friday night poker games. It was nickel-dime-quarter stuff therefore no one got too mad when my friend was the usual weekly winner. It was best not to play deuces wild when he was at the table; he seemed to be able to conjure deuces from the nether regions. He had a nice little library in his house and among his books were several about poker strategies which included chapters on how to catch a cheat. I think he reverse-engineered a few chapters and used them against us. In the end, it was all good fun. He used a lot of good words; he was very intelligent. Somehow, spastic is one of his words that stuck with me over the years and I don’t think I’ve heard it since he left us in 1980; I would surely love to hear him say it again. Spastic.
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Sammy was with us all day Friday and again Saturday; he is with us again today and is in the process of refusing to eat his baby cereal. Can’t say as I blame him.
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I am dedicating the video Southern Man to those who claim the New South as home yet would have us return to days of Jim Crow and total segregation of the races.
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Hey! The sun just popped out! Have a good Worshday, my friends.
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2012-01-22T12:01:00.000-05:00

Splitting sinus headache today; I thought I could do some taxes while Carolyn is at work and Sammy isn’t here to hog my attention. I’ll have to wait until my forehead quits throbbing.
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Cortez The Killer song was at one time banned in Spain; maybe still is. Mr. Young is a great song writer as well as a superb performer. I like him best when he is with his band Crazy Horse as he is in this video. Yes, I know; the audio is atrocious here.
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The body shop manager called and said they had all the repair work done to the Escape except that when the AC/Heat blower is turned on small missiles of glass come flying out of the vents. He said he would contact the insurance adjuster and see what he wants to do about it. The repairs done so far, including a new windshield, have been a bit less than $2000; not bad really. I wonder why the body shop didn’t take shattered glass into consideration from the get-go? The first place the glass would have fallen is into the inside windshield defroster vents and into the outside cowl air intake (and Carolyn’s face and hair). I expect the insurance company is going to be pretty pissed about that much extra work; removing the entire dash and sucking out all the glass fragments and then having to clean up the inside of the vehicle again. I hope they don’t give up and consider the car to be worth less money than what it takes to fix it.
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Have a good Sunday afternoon and evening.

Spring???

2012-01-21T12:53:00.000-05:00

Sammy was here until 11:00 last night; we had a good time playing and watching cartoons. He is back today and came in wearing his bib overalls and a red shirt; much like some of the old farmers I wrote about a few days ago.
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We had thunderstorms last night and today is nearly continuous rain. Thursday I saw a fat, male robin in the yard and he acted like he may stay for awhile. I also saw a pair of rufus-sided towhees this week and a mockingbird has set up his territory around the suet feeder; he is constantly on guard against any suet thieves; the smaller birds are upset but the big peckerwoods pay him no mind.
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I am sleeping better every night since I stopped taking the Ambien.
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Have a great Saturday and weekend!

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Put your right foot in
Take your right foot out
Put your right foot in
Then you shake it all about
And then you do the hokey pokey
Turn yourself around
That’s what it’s all about

Etta

2012-01-20T11:58:00.000-05:00

Etta James
January 25, 1938 – January 20, 2012

Negative Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

2012-01-19T10:51:00.002-05:00

Three hours sleep last night so no blog today. Dammit!

Bloodhound chew

2012-01-18T14:59:00.002-05:00

Farmers may seem like and independent lot, and in many ways they are because there is no other industry to remotely compare to large-scale food production. Even the small family farms which used to dot the rural landscape and were the backbone of America until Ronald Reagan put them out of business in the 1980′s were extremely self-reliant. One thing nearly all of them had in common though was the uniform trousers they wore. You could just about bet that any owner of a small farm would pull on a pair of bib overalls as soon as his feet touched the floor when he got out of bed in the wee morning hours. He might place one of several various types of shoes or boots on his feet, and the type of shirt he wore changed with the seasons, but it was usually long sleeved and made of soft, absorbent cotton. On his head would go a comfortable, disreputable looking, sweat stained, manure spotted, old Stetson hat, or its equivalent. This basic attire was worn by those men born before World War Two; later generations wore Levis, sneakers, tee shirts, and baseball caps. But even they had at lest one thing in common with the old-timers; chewing tobacco. As I remember, chewing tobacco came in three basic types: loose leaf, packaged in a foil lined pouch; twist, usually wrapped in cellophane; plug, also wrapped in cellophane.
I was never a tobacco using person outside of hateful cigarettes, but like most country boys, I did try various things the adults used. I learned early on that any kind of tobacco I put in my mouth which generated a plethora of juice and that no matter how much spitting I did, there was always some of the vile liquid would trickle down my throat. The first response was gagging and then as my skin rapidly changed colors like a chameleon in a crayon factory–white, red, blue, green, and back to bloodless white–I started dry-heaving just as a drunk does after a big night out with the boys when he confronts a fried breakfast egg leering back at him. I always wound up laying on my belly and hoping how soon I would die. Fortunately, the effects quickly wore off and mostly all that was left of the honor was a bad memory which was soon forgotten, and the guffaws of any of my friends who were around to witness my misery. For some reason, most of them never got sick from wayaward tobacco juice.
There were two basic types of plug users; one was the gentleman chawer and the other was the regular, uncouth chawer. It was never “do you want a chew?” but always “d’yer want a chaw?” It was ‘chawing terbaccy’ and not ‘chewing tobacco’. The uncouth , regular Farmer Joe chawer might remove the wrapper from his plug of Bloodhound®, offer it around, gnaw off enough for a chaw, and drop it in one of his bib pockets until he was ready for another refreshment. He generally didn’t get a lot of takers on his second offer of sharing; plenty of tooth marks and general dirt from his pocket almost always insured he would have the rest of the plug to himself.
The gentleman chawer would begin the process by first taking his folding knife from one of his trouser pockets. A lot of story tellers did it this way and by the time the plug was ready to serve, he had drawn a crowd of store porch-sitters and they wound up either laughing at some funny anecdote he had told while opening the blade of the knife or sadly shaking their heads about something that had happened somewhere in the community or about the latest misdeeds of the government as he was retrieving the plug from a bib pocket. He would top off his tale by slowly and carefully peeling back the cellophane wrapper so as not to tear it and just as slowly cut himself a piece of the black tobacco and then passing it around as his latest revelation was discussed. When he got the plug back, it was usually with the cellophane wrapper carefully refolded on the plug and the knife blade refolded back into the handle. When I was hanging around the store, I kept an eye out for the story telling chawers; to this day I still draw information and inspiration from their stories and the gleam in their eyes as they related them. There is much more to my tobacco chewing stories, but I will wait until allergies and taxes aren’t preying on my goodwill.
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Have a fine Wednesday, every body!
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Thanking you ...

2012-01-16T16:14:00.000-05:00

I just realized something… I began posting on Blogger on January 7th, 2006. I’ve been doing this longer than I thought. Alice was my first reader and Robin was my first commenter. Thank you everyone who has read my silliness and kindly encouraged, critiqued, and kept me going through six enlightening and wonderful years. For those of you who I have disappointed in some way with my words, please know that it was not done on purpose to hurt you or anyone. In the case of politicians and fat-cat preachers, I never intended to hurt you either for your own words and actions were all that I was repeating. For those of you who I have pleased with my words, maybe some of it was done on purpose because I like each one of you and many of you have become family to me, but most of these thousands of sentences and paragraphs were merely me being myself. I like to tell stories and I like to be the brunt of any joke I spew over the net scape. The likes of Mark Twain, Will Rogers, and especially Walt Kelly have been my inspiration for many, many years.

I would like to say all your names in this posting and tell you how much you have meant to me as a friend and an individual, but like I said in the last post, my eyes no longer make many tears and I am afraid it would bankrupt me to buy all the bottled tears I would need to portray to you my honest, loving emotions about you.

Thank you, my gentle children.

“I have a Dream.”

2012-01-16T12:24:00.000-05:00

Martin Luther King, Jr. His dream is yet to be fulfilled.
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I read a recent blog where a 50 year-old man was concerned about being old. Reminds me of the things I wrote about when I was the same age. But to write about being or becoming old, a person should have some experience and being 50 is not akin to being old. I suppose the guy was showing more angst than anything.
I am definitely getting old. There is now more hair growing from my ear canals than there is atop my head. My eyebrows look like two hungover wooly worms having a bad hair day. The bags under my eyes have become full fledged sacks. My eyes no longer make their own tears; I have some extra-virgin tears imported from Italy. Trimming nose hair is a twice-weekly annoyance. My chin was once fairly prominent; now it and all its folds gradually meld into my chest. My jowls flap and are difficult to shave. My ears and the corners of my mouth sag. I see a chocolate commercial on television and a tooth falls out. My chest hair is suddenly becoming all white. My little man-boobies are now larger than those of many women whom I lusted after in my youth. I can’t suck in my gut enough to see if I have any pubic hair left and I have to floss between the fat wrinkles on my belly. My scrotum is sagging to the size where I wanted it to be back when it was useful for something. About five years ago, my sex drive was spotted crossing the border into Tijuana, Mexico and hasn’t even bothered to send me a postcard. I have to wear Velcro strap shoes because I can’t bend past my belly to tie laces. I suppose I should rename my blog to “Loose Straps”. I need a new pair of sneakers but I have these which I have worn for eight years stretched to fit my bunions and hammer-toes. My separate crutches work under either arm and I cannot figure out whether they are bi-sexual or bi-polar. I sometimes have senior moments when I think I am a Conservative. I used to fret about which brand of condom was best but now it is worrying about brands of adult diapers that takes up half my day.
Well, at lest I am still here to write about it.
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Have a fantastic Worsh Day!
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13

2012-01-13T10:12:00.000-05:00

Eye allergies again today so I will make it short.
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Snowed again last night.
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Have a great weekend.

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"The survey says ..."

2012-01-12T13:14:00.001-05:00

Sammy Bunny

The following conversation would have been funnier if I was telling it just after it happened which was mid-1980s. My friend Steve–Bro Hill–and I were sitting in my living room drinking beer and playing Atari; we were actually pretty bored. Later, I made a few notes about the happenings and from them I give you this telephone conversation. Be aware, it did not happen exactly like this and some of the conversation is slightly altered and I cannot remember all of it, but the fact is that it did happen.
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Ring-g-g-g-g!
“Hello?”
“Good evening sir; I am Lori and I am calling from Johnson City Specialty Hospital. We are taking a short survey of area residents to see how they use our hospital. Would you be interested in answering a few questions for us?”
Lori sounded like a very young woman. “Hi Lorie and I don’t mind at all; this is from the new maternity hospital, right?”
“Yes sir, I am happy you have heard of us. Could you tell me how you came to know about the hospital and its services?”
“I’ve heard the radio ads and read an article in the paper about it. It is located where the eye hospital used to be, I think.”
“You are correct, sir. We renovated the eye hospital and it now serves the community for other purposes. May I ask if your wife is present?”
“Sure you may but my wife isn’t here right now.”
Ok, sir, I will just ask you a few short questions if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
“You say you are married; is that correct.”
“No, I am not married.”
“But you just said your wife isn’t presently at home?”
“That is correct; he is not home right now but I expect him at any moment.”
Pause … “Your wife is a man?”
Me chuckle … “Yes, my wife is a man and his wife is a man; also, we both have husbands.”
In the background I could hear the young caller saying to someone else “you should hear this!” That meant I had an audience so it was time to put on my best show. Luckily, Bro Hill came in just before the conversation began and I winked at him and whispered to him to be ready. I heard several clicks on the line as other people where Lori worked began eavesdropping on our conservation and at the same time Bro Hill was listening on my extension phone.
“I better explain, Lori. Steve is my wife and I am Steve’s wife; he is also my husband and I am his husband and that is the way we live.” I heard a half-squelched snort and a few giggles come across the line; the snort was Steve’s as he was about to break up laughing. I quickly shushed him.
Lori said “Oh- h-h … I think I see.” I could tell she was still trying to put it all together.
I said “Hold on just a minute, Lori; I hear my wife coming in right now.” Half covering the transmitter with my hand, I said, “Stevie, honey, there’s a young lady on the line taking a survey; would you be kind enough to say hello to her … her name is Lori?”
Says Steve “I sure will , Sweetheart”; he clicked the phone as if he was just picking it up. In his most demure effeminate voice he said, “Hello dear Lori; this is Stevie, Kenny’s partner and lover; we are happy you could call us this evening.”
Lori said, “Um … ah … hello Stevie … it is nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, darling,” crooned Bro Hill. “is there anything I can do for you?”
“Ummm, maybe I should ask you the survey questions?”
“Well, either one of us is as well equipped to answer them as is the other, but you began with Kenny and I will let you have him back; please forgive me but I must undress and take a shower. I just came in from work and am not very dainty at the moment. Kiss-kiss, Lori.”
I said to Bro Hill, making sure Lori and friends could hear me, “Stevie honey, give mama a big kiss before you go to the shower.” Steve placed a loud, wet smooch on the back of his hand. More giggles from her end of the line. Steve had to leave the room to laugh.
“I’m back Lori; forgive Stevie for running but he has a thing about his hygiene. Do you have anymore questions for me?”
“Just a few” she said. “If you ever need the services of a specialty hospital, would you consider Johnson City Specialty Hospital?” By now Lori was flustered trying not to laugh every time she said a word.
“Well, I keep telling Stevie we should have a baby and we keep trying, but so far we haven’t been blessed. I sure would be glad to use your hospital; wouldn’t it be so wonderful if he and I both got pregnant at the same time? I bet that would be a “first” for the hospital!” The echoing giggles from across the phone lines broke into outright guffaws and I was wondering how soon someone was going to catch on that they were being shucked.
Lori was now laughing outright; she said “I’m going to finish this survey if it kills me!”
“Just go ahead and ask your questions, honey; I’ll make sure we aren’t interrupted on this end.” I let her hear me slam a door shut.
“It looks like it will be difficult for Stevie or I to ever make use of your hospital, but I tell you what Lori honey, if you will come over to my house sometime when Stevie is at work, I will try to fix you up to where you can use it. I bet you will even get a discount because you work there. You do work there, don’t you?”
“Oh, my god!,” she said. The uncontrolled laughing was coming from her and her entire crew. “Yes, I work here; I am a nurse in training. I will have to take a rain check on your offer and my supervisor who has been listening in says to tell you we all appreciate the entertainment but to please use someone else’s hospital if you get pregnant. Goodbye, sir.” She was still laughing.
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Have a good pre-Friday 13th, y’all!
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Rainy Days

2012-01-11T11:21:00.001-05:00

Rain again; looks and feels much like an early spring day but I know Mom Nature is just feeling playful. The temp. is 50°F (10°C) but another cold front is on the way. Good news is that we are gaining more than a minute of daylight each day.
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Carolyn has gone to take Ashley to work and Sammy will be here to spend most of the day.
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The Escape is at an auto-body shop; Carolyn drove by and gave it a quick once over. She said the deer left a deep dent from its hoof just at the outside mirror; a few inches higher and it would have been through the side window and could have done her much damage. I still don’t think she realizes just how bad it could have been for her.
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I love the song Rainy Days and Mondays by the Carpenters. With the exception of Patsy Cline’s unparalleled presentations, I think Karen Carpenter had the most beautiful singing voice I’ve heard. Both of these ladies died at the height of their careers.
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Have a brolly-free Wednesday, dear friends.
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Monday reflections

2012-01-10T12:23:00.001-05:00

Keegan has left Korea and returned to Japan; we’re hoping he can get a come-home pass and visit us.
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Jeremy and family are planning to come visit before the end of this month. Looking forward to some time with them.
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We are in the process of rearranging the furniture so we can have an extra room for guests. Chris will be coming back to stay with us for awhile and maybe Mark will mosey across the hill one of these days. I will be giving up my office and returning it to a bed room like it is supposed to be; my office will share the living room and will be downsized a lot. I have too much junk anyway.
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Yesterday morning, Carolyn fixed each of us a bowl of sweetened rice. She carried mine to the office and as she reached to set it down in front to me, she lost her grip on the bowl and the hot, overly-sweetened grain with extra-hot liquid spilled; half in my lap, half and my keyboard and half on my Droid phone-cum-book reader. I naturally grabbed the Droid and began wiping it while all the good stuff in my straddle finished cooking my noodle. I dumped the keyboard as quickly as possible and only then got the scalding food off my legs and out of my crotch. A 67 year-old man has different priorities than does a 60 year-old man. We both tend to save the things which will be used the most in the order of importance: Droid; keyboard; gonads in my case. Together, we got the electronics back in working—yet sticky—order. Fast cleaning work on the phone saved it; the old Logitech keyboard keeps doing its thing without a sign of a sticky key but there are still a few rice grains deep inside I need to fish out. I was having a pretty rough RA flareup, but I was able to help Carolyn a bit with cleaning the mess. She never once offered to clean me. I will have to live with my sticky butt until Saturday when I will take my weekly shower; when you are old you don’t break any routines unless absolutely necessary. Wednesday is “change underwear” day; I am looking forward to it. When I change underwear in midweek, it isn’t always fresh, clean stuff I change into; I dig through the pile of dirty of clothes until I find some that look and smell less foul than the ones I have on. However, Saturday always finds me with a clean and fresh springtime smell down below.
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I seem to have begun my recovery from the sinus infection; it feels to be about 50 percent of original. I think this is the worst I’ve ever had it and there is still a lot of drainage.
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A right pretty day in the hills, but rain is supposed to return this evening and then turn cold.
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Have a Tuesday!
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Another rainy Worshday

2012-01-09T13:58:00.002-05:00

Lots of rain! Fog! Monday!
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This day had gone to hell in a hand basket by noon; hope the rest of it settles down to normal, barely bearable Monday.
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Hope Mark got through his leg surgery ok.
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Have a decent Worshday, my friends.
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Boston

2012-01-08T10:28:00.001-05:00

Mark’s blog video of Boston got me into a Boston frame of mind.

When the band came out with their signature album in the mid-70′s, some critics called them the East Coast Eagles on steroids. They certainly did bring a new electricity to the guitar playing and they had a superb vocalist, too. Although the band was continuously wracked with personal and business problems, they managed to create three excellent albums before New Wave, MTV, and hair bands replaced traditional rock ‘n’ roll music with all new genres by the mid-80′s. I have more than a feeling that Boston’s place as an innovative and top band in musical history is secure. Great album art, too.

Don't Look Back

2012-01-07T16:13:00.000-05:00

Weekend update

2012-01-07T15:54:00.000-05:00

Been feeling better most of day but now my headache is back; so far no nausea.
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Carolyn just found out that she will lose another building in mid-March; in fact she will probably lose two buildings then. By losing the first one, she will have to raise the price on the second one and I don’t think they will pay it. She has been working for the same money since 2007 and it will not be profitable without the other job to share the gas expenses.
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The video of Sammy yesterday is the first time he has laughed; he laughed himself sick and then wore himself out laughing at everything.
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Carolyn has gone out to eat and I am sitting home having an apple, but as apples go, it is a pretty good one.
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For the past few days while laid-up, I’ve been reading an interesting and entertaining book by Patrick deWitt titled The Sister Brothers. If you are into Old West adventures, this one might be for you; for one thing, it certainly is different in about every aspect than any Wild West novel or story I have ever encountered. Please read the linked review for a good synopsis.
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Have a good Sunday, Y’all!
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Sammy laughing

2012-01-06T15:33:00.000-05:00

First Friday

2012-01-06T10:23:00.000-05:00

Uncle Wallace

Sinus infection has a good hold on me today; I’m taking antibiotic but it hasn’t started working yet. This too shall pass.
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Carolyn was coping with the deer incident until yesterday when she passed the place where it happened and saw buzzards picking the poor critter’s bones.
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Sammy is coming over to spend the afternoon; I will be staying away from him so I won’t infect him. Drat!
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The pic is the only known existing photo of my uncle Wallace (my mother’s brother); he died from a head injury long before I was born. Seems like he was playing in the yard and a pig knocked him into a cellar door. He seemed ok but after a while began losing his ability to speak and then he lost his ability to walk and feed himself. My grandparents took him to doctors early on, but they said there was nothing could be done for him; the injury was causing bleeding deep in his brain and surgery of the type that might save him these days was unheard of in the late 1930′s. Wallace Richard Phillips — January 4th, 1925 – March 8, 1939. He died in his mother’s loving arms.
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Have a good weekend, everyone.
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Ten Yeas After

2012-01-05T11:58:00.001-05:00


Dorothy Mae Phillips Anderson September 27, 1919 - January 5, 2002

It would appear that Iowa Republicans don’t like any of the scruffy politicians the Party has presented them. The next election will be another shameful blot on America’s slide into the status of “just another greedy country”. Conservatives have no one whom is likeable and has any fresh or realistic ideas to help the nation wean itself from the clutches of the almighty dollar. The Democrats have Obama who is a proven spineless lawyer and politician who will sell out his people for a drop of oil. Really no choice for the future in the presidential arena and congressmen and congresswomen continue to prove that their own self interests are placed above the good of We The People.
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My Mother passed away ten years ago today. I still sometimes on sleepless nights or during quiet periods during the day wonder if there was something I could have done to prolong her beautiful, delicate life. She placed her trust and faith in her only son to make sure she would be as comfortable as possible and to receive the proper care she required and deserved. Somehow I feel I let her down by not raising enough hell with the medical professionals who were supposed to be helping keep her alive with some semblance of dignity and optimism. Instead, I feel my own tardiness in making them do what was right eventually led to her death; a death not brought on by not by her infirmities, but by the negligent use of drugs used to treat her. She died of potassium poisoning.
Dot, I and nearly everyone you touched in your 82 years were blessed by your presence. You were a mother to Carolyn and I, to our children, and for our grandchildren and I know little Sammy would have adored you. I love you, Mama …
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Have a good Thursday, my friends.

Gack!

2012-01-04T11:27:00.002-05:00

Carolyn is ok if a bit sore. She finally got all the glass picked out of her hide.
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I am down with sinus infection, waiting for the doc to call in a ‘script’ to the pharmacy. Gack!
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Have a wunnerful Wednesday!

I resolve to never again …

2012-01-03T10:38:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning there was a huge flock of robins in the yard; I suppose today’s frigid weather explains whey they were there. I hope they made it far enough to the south to miss some of the killer temperatures and wind chill we are now having. We got only a skiff of snow but every flake stayed on the ground. The far mountains are gleaming like diamond dust when the sun pops out for a moment.

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Sammy was here yesterday but he was very ill; He kept poking all his fingers in his mouth, slobbering, and crying a lot. I think the new teeth are giving him fits. I tried to make some videos but he wasn’t up to it. Sammy is six months old today. Happy one-half Birthday, Little Buddy.
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Sinus is screwing with me more than anything right now; my head bone feels like a churn. Welcome to winter, old man!
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Hope Mark is getting along better today. Jola is still recovering from a serious illness and exhaustion; I hope she too is getting better. If any of the rest of you are suffering winter-related miseries, I also hope you soon get over them; the daylight is becoming noticeably longer and spring time is waiting in the wings.
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Have a Tuesday, Dear Ones.
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In the beginning ...

2012-01-02T12:54:00.001-05:00

It has been a few days since I blogged and there really hasn’t been much happening in my life worth writing about. I suppose you all have heard by now that 2011 is past and 2012 is here; it’s in all the newspapers. I planned to be awake when the ball fell in Times Square but somehow I completely missed it. I haven’t seen Sammy since Christmas, but he is coming to spend the afternoon with us today.
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Mark is broken. He seems to be the man who knows how to finish a year off with a slam-bang. While practicing the art of a self-powered flying furnace repairman, a seven-foot ladder with a sense of humor skedaddled from beneath him and before he could flap his wings, his head hit concrete and he thought about becoming an astronomer as the sky was suddenly filled with stars, meteors, and shooting comets; in the background he could hear Lady Gaga singing “I Like It Rough”. He eventually realized his head was more pliant than his leg; he had broken his tibia near his knee. He and I both are riding crutches but for the most part I can get by on just one stick; bet he can’t do that yet. I hope he doesn’t have to undergo surgery and have pins or screws or rods or plates placed in the break; it is near the knee and may be troublesome to heal properly without some mechanical aids. He is itching to go to France this year; I can think of nothing more recuperating than for him to spend a week or two on one of the Riviera’s famed totally nude beaches.
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Have a great Worshday, everyone!

1%’ers Rule … literally

2011-12-30T12:10:00.002-05:00

“What is clear is that members of Congress are getting richer compared not only with the average American worker, but also with other very rich Americans.
The median net worth of members of Congress jumped 15 percent from 2004 to 2010, the net worth of the richest 10 percent of Americans remained essentially flat. For all Americans, median net worth dropped 8 percent, based on inflation-adjusted data from Moody’s Analytics.” ~ excerpted from Dvorak Uncensored.
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We are thinking of removing the office from the front bedroom and returning the room to what it is supposed to be; a bedroom. We will have to store much of the living room furniture so that my desk and junk will have room. We darn sure need an extra bedroom; Sammy will be wanting one of his own soon enough.
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Have a good weekend!
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Mice, television, and wild, crazy sex

2011-12-29T11:12:00.002-05:00

Two mouse-free nights; two nights with no lamp on beside the bed; two nights without “them beady-eyed bastards” (Carolyn’s words) rattling around in the trash can.
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I gotta do something about a bedroom TV; SHE is driving me nutty. Carolyn was as happy with the 11 local channels as she was the 200 channels on Directv; but now all she has is Netflix and all she wants to watch there is old-old westerns which she is getting bored with and she is driving me nuttier. Ah, I remember the good old days when her just getting in bed with me provided a full night’s worth of entertainment. Time marches on … and takes no prisoners.
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Have a Thursday to remember … in a good way.
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Life is a Gas … don’t strike a match!

2011-12-28T12:55:00.000-05:00

As threatened, here is my Sammy post-Christmas update. Our jolly little Elf enjoyed opening his presents; in fact he took more enjoyment from the colorful wrappings than from the presents themselves. He now has two teeth all the way through his gums, therefore there will be no more using my knuckles for further teething. He was a bright spot for all of us on Christmas day.
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RA doc appointment went as expected. She said my blood work was showing hardly any signs of RA which is very unusual for someone who has it as bad and has had it long as have I. She claimed the blood was more like a healthy 20 year old man than a decrepit 67 year old geezer. She also had my last heart doc tests and said my heart was like that of a healthy 40 year old man. I have also lost another four pounds in the past four months. All this together is too much encouraging news; must be something wrong somewhere. We wound up talking about my mental health and we both agreed there was much room for improvement in that area. She wrote me a prescription for a different sleeping pill, Ambien, and took me off my Xanax. I still have a order for Xanax tucked away in case of emergency. Maybe the mouse wars will not be so disturbing if the new pill works well.
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Carolyn 2; mice 0! No mice disturbed Carolyn last night and she didn’t disturb me.
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Have a wise Wednesday, my friends.
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Post-Yule mutters

2011-12-27T11:32:00.000-05:00

No internet for most of the day yesterday; somehow my router got hacked and I could not access it to fix it. Took a long time just to figure out the router was physically ok but had been tampered with.
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Have to go to RA doc later today; no wonder I am grouchy.
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The Escape is still not fixed; it did good for a few days but is back to the same problem once again.
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Both our TV’s are broken; the one in the living room seems to overheat or something and cuts itself off and the one in the bedroom no longer shows our eleven local channels. That leaves us with nothing but Netflix and that is why it was imperative to get the router back into working order; no router = no Netflix. God, I would hate to have Comcast cable TV again. They are the most uncaring and arrogant company I have ever dealt with. I wish Charter had cable out where I live. Our local power board is supposed to have internet plus TV in the near future but I don’t know how near future.
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Sammy was over Sunday afternoon and my blahs and blues magically disappeared. I hope to write more about his first Christmas later.
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The mouse wars continue.
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Have a Tuesday!
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A day may be a lifetime

2011-12-25T10:32:00.002-05:00

I am hoping everyone is having a wonderful Christmas.
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I am trying not to be sad today, but as I think about holidays of the past and the people whom were so familiar and are no longer with me, my eyes are moist as my soul openly weeps my thoughts. Family, friends, and special acquaintances are smiling through the ages as a flood of beautiful Christmases of yesteryear sweeps by; each of them continuing to lighten my heart and brighten each day.

I also miss Jeremy and Courtney and Remy and Bubba; I miss Keegan in faraway South Korea. I also miss not having an opportunity to see baby Sammy open his presents on his first Christmas eve. There will be more Christmases I suppose, but as the years string out behind me I more and more realize that a day may be a lifetime.

I am dedicating this Christmas blog to Sammy, hoping he will continue receiving the love he needs and giving all the love he has. Merry Christmas, my little friend and may they be merry for plentiful years to come as you live a full and happy life.

Mouse wranglers wanted

2011-12-23T12:20:00.000-05:00

Sammy and Sock Monkey from Tammy

Thursday 1:45am: The mouse (mice) renewed his attack against Carolyn's sanity. I tried my best to be an innocent bystander but when one of the critters is only inches from her nose, Carolyn is not going to let me be. She left an empty snack wrapper on her nightstand and little mouse was investigating it; loud enough to wake her up and make her lay awake for three hours with the light on. Of course, I wasn't allowed to go back to sleep until after she finally dozed off. Yesterday, she bought and set eight traps, four of them in our bedroom. To compound that, she left her nightstand light on all night. I took two Xanax and was able to get through the night undisturbed. Apparently, little mouse didn't show up in the bedroom but I noticed this morning that he left a calling card on my desk.

The world will surely miss former Czechoslovakian President Vaclav Havel. He was a true Freedom Fighter for Eastern Europe and an inspiration to the world. Hopefully the next generation of Havels will rise from the Arab Spring movement and the Occupy Wall Street Movement.

Mark, if your garden area is close to deciduous trees, try adding some lime to the soil to sweeten it; the leaves and tree sap are highly acidic and some lime will help the balance. Best to work it into the ground in fall or early winter but adding in spring will help.

Have a good weekend and Merry Christmas, my friends.

The Christmas Mouse

2011-12-21T11:04:00.000-05:00

Headboard

I don’t sleep well most nights but last night began as an exception; I put my book down at 11:30 and was soon gone. Suddenly, I felt something hit my knee a good, hard blow. I quickly awakened to find a bedside light on and the missus sitting up in bed. “Wayne? Wayne! There’s a mouse in the trash can!” When she came in from work, she made herself a sandwich and brought it to the bedroom to eat. It must have not been a good meal because she stuffed half of it into her nearly empty potato chip bag and and told me to toss it into the trash can which is on my side of the bed. The mouse must have appreciated her generosity. “What time is it?” I asked. She replied it is one twenty-five and time for me to get up and catch or kill the mouse. I listened for awhile and never did hear anything from the trash can so I grabbed my huggy pillow and put it over my head, intending to go back to sleep. “Wayne! I can’t sleep with that mouse in here!” Apparently I can’t either,” I replied. After nearly a half hour of listening–I damn sure wasn’t going to inventory the trash can; I’ve been mouse bitten before–I convinced her to turn the light off so I could go back to sleep. In a few minutes I heard “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Go!”, says I. “I’m afraid I’ll step on the mouse,” says she. So we both turn lights on and she tiptoes to do her thing and makes a mad dash back to the safety of the bed, in as much as an out of shape old woman can dash. She eventually turned her light out and dozed off, leaving me wide awake and staring at the ceiling. When I did go back to sleep, I had a nightmare about a giant red-eyed Christmas mouse wearing a Santa hat between its antlers and sporting huge, gnashing canines chasing me through some woods. I woke up in a sweat and tossed around for awhile before once again snoozing. I didn’t wake up again until the alarm went off at seven-thirty. Every bit of the sandwich she did not eat was missing from the chip bag in the trash can, along with the chips.
Carolyn has gone to the hair dresser and is threatening to buy some mouse traps on the way home; I hope she doesn’t until after Christmas; even a mouse should be respected and tolerated during this holiday season of good will toward men. Maybe a nice tiny red ribbon on a piece of sharp cheddar cheese behind the tree where Carolyn can’t see it? Merry Christmas little mouse; Merry Christmas everyone!
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Today is the shortest day of the year in our earthly hemisphere; at 30 minutes past midnight tonight local time, the sun will begin its slow return toward the equator, eventually carrying spring and summer along with it.
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Have a great last Wednesday of Autumn, 2011!

For the birds

2011-12-20T11:31:00.002-05:00

Our bird feeders are attracting a decent crowd of small diners. Plenty of chickadees, tufted titmice, white breasted nuthatches, hairy and downy woodpeckers, and finches are using the facilities. On the ground are mourning doves, cardinals, blue jays, and starlings. The fringes support sparrows, mocking birds, and wrens. There are probably more which I haven’t seen yet, and there will surely be some additional varieties come spring. There are also the ubiquitous squirrels; we are now up to at least four head roaming the back forty.

Except for sore knees and some foot swelling, I feel better today than I have in a week or more. Late Sunday and part of the day yesterday I had chills, a bit of nausea, and a lot of quality time on the throne. I suppose I am just acting my age like my granny always told me to do when I was a little boy acting like a littler boy.
Life consists of three distinct sections: Optimism of youth, caution of middle age, and W.T.F. of the elderly.

Have a good Tuesday all over the place.

Lover excerpt

2011-12-18T11:37:00.000-05:00

Another piece of my Lover story:

I made quite a bit of money during harvest time, and the work left me strong, tanned and a bit wiser, ready to face whatever the winter months decreed. I gave the money to Mama, but she refused to take it for herself. She instead deposited in a savings account she had opened when Daddy first left home and until then, she hadn’t told me about. I returned to school that eighth-grade year a different man. I was myself beginning to find a few scraggly hairs under my armpits and down below where I thought nothing would ever grow, but growing was happening there and all over my body as muscles began to replace baby fat and my voice almost overnight went from a squeak to nearly baritone; I found I could carry a tune but vowed no one would ever hear me sing it. Instead of looking much like an oft-used soap stick, I had broadened my shoulders and was beginning to resemble an adult human. I wanted so much for Darla to be there so I could show off my muscles to her. During all that time, I heard nothing about her and didn’t know if she was well and as happy as possible or if she was pining away for the lights of Paris, or worse, found another boyfriend which was a soul shattering thought. Then one day in mid-September as I returned home from school and checked the mailbox, in it was a postcard addressed to me. On it was a pretty photo of Virginia Beach and the Atlantic Ocean. It was postmarked in Salem, Virginia, the town they had moved to. On the back Darla simply wrote ‘Wait for me. xoxoxo’.

Five days until midwinter solstice

2011-12-17T12:05:00.000-05:00

There was a puddle full of bathing, fat and sassy looking robins across the street this morning; probably late south-migraters. Anyway, I was happy to see them.

Finally got the Escape engine problem fixed; it needed spark plugs. It is doing ok now but it has some other age problems that have to be dealt with.

Carolyn is going spastic; she has lost or misplaced her key and remote door lock for the Escape. Also the mailbox key is with it. It will cost $50 or more to replace the car key and remote; I can do without a remote but she constantly loses the car in the Wal-Mart parking lot and has to toot the horn with the remote so she can find it. I told her the best cure would be to stay away from Wal-Mart and any other place that has “Mart” or “Mall” as part of its name.

I didn’t sleep well and lay awake reading a Perry Mason mystery: The Case of the Runaway Corpse.

Have a splendid weekend!

December-ish

2011-12-15T12:59:00.001-05:00

Sammy was here yesterday; he tried to smile and laugh but I think the new teeth are causing him problems. It doesn’t take much to set him to crying. I hope he gets to feeling well enough to make a Merry Christmas video so I can post it on Youtube.
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I spent the morning working on business stuff but my brain is still out of gear and its motor only idles. ‘Tis the Season … tax season.
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We’ve been having our December warmup where the temps moderate to near shirt-sleeve tolerable; now a cold front is about to move through.
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Ten years ago, I celebrated my last Christmas with my Mom and 40 years ago I celebrated my last Christmas with my Grandma. You will find them both in my stories from time to time and you can always find them in my heart.
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Have a thankful Thursday, dear Friends; all of you are in my heart, too.
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Jingle

2011-12-14T12:13:00.000-05:00

Jingle bells ring and small coins ting
Birds don’t fly when baked for a king
It’s Christmas time and I ain’t got a dime
Broke in The Season is so a crime
Trees hardly shiver
When cold winds come hither
Hams don’t bake and chickens don’t fry
Pecans are just nuts in a gooey pie
Santy ain’t here; never has been
The manger is took by a laying hen
Beasts of the fields and birds of the air
All they got is feathers and hair
Place your orders ’cause the day is Black
Havin’ a sale for the lord’s haystack
Peace on earth and good will to men
Totin’ a gun to cast out sin
I was wrong; Santy is back
In the chimney with his big ol’ sack
Bendin’ over the tree is a timeless fact
“Dude, you’re showin’ your crack”

Rambles

2011-12-14T09:35:00.000-05:00

Mark's Christmas Porch

I suppose Donald Trump now realizes just how unpopular he is; even his gobs of filthy money can buy but two Republicans. Buy me Donald; I have no scruples whatsoever.

Love Facebook? Read this.

I read that 49 percent of Americans think President Obama is a dud. The myopic electorate is finally catching on to what many of us have known since before he supported Bush’s and Geitner’s T.A.R.P. I hate to think that Obama and whatever slime ball the Republicans come up with is our only choice until 2016; déjà vu all over again.

My advice to Europe’s sovereign countries; unless you are going to become a united nation of nation-states, get as far away as possible from the Euro standard currency. The Euro was created to support the European and international banking industry and resulting in the general populace receiving only trickle-down benefits. Ask the average American worker how well ‘trickle down economics’ works.

Have a good’un!

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me — A partridge in a pear tree.

2011-12-13T12:34:00.000-05:00

Jeremy sent me several photos of him and Courtney and I will post some of them on the blog from time-to-time. They are both photogenic as all get out.

Thank you Alice for the lovely Christmas card. Thank you Tammy for the soap for my yearly bath, cards, pistachios, and the sock monkey for Sammy. Thank you Jola for the beautiful cards and coaster from Warsaw. I will try to make photos later on. These cards and gifts mean a lot to Carolyn and me.

I’ve been dealing with an RA flareup for several days and have been on the net but little. I am behind on blog reading and writing. I am feeling a bit better today and need to get back to Lover; I am at more than 11,000 words into it and have a lot to add yet. I’m nowhere near half-way through with unedited text.

Sammy may come over today; I hope so.

Have a Tuesday!

Happy Birthday, Maggie!

2011-12-12T12:42:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday, Maggie!
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Mark placed some of his photos in a gallery and he has announced via his blog that some of them are selling. Congratulations, my friend.
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Have a good Worshday!
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Happy Weekend!

2011-12-09T10:40:00.001-05:00

Sammy was over yesterday; he has two teeth coming in. We thought there was only one until he nipped the end of Carolyn’s nose.
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Didn’t sleep well last night; Carolyn and I both have scratchy throats and coughs. Of course, eye allergies are making the day miserable for yours truly.
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I am trying to find a Christmas present online for Carolyn; it is difficult to buy for a woman who wants everything.
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Time for more eye drops; have a great weekend!

Thank You

2011-12-08T10:12:00.000-05:00

V.F.W. Honor Guard preparing to fire 21-gun salute for Carolyn's uncle Haskel

Carolyn and I thank everyone for the kind condolences. The graveside service had to be held inside at the cemetery chapel; it was raining when we got there and snowing when we left.
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Carolyn and I have been sick for several days; we are following Sammy’s lead. He has already had everything we are experiencing but unlike we old fuddy-duddys, he keeps on smiling.
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I ain’t trusting Russian politics anymore than I trust United States politics. Just beneath the surface of Russian power lies the vestiges of communism which seems to still be fairly strong and a Putin dictatorship is a possibility, too.
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Thursday already? Have a good one.

Mourning

2011-12-07T11:38:00.000-05:00

Just this morning found out Carolyns nearest relative died Monday. We will be at the cemetery in Bristol, Virginia this afternoon.

Sammy’s first tooth is coming through.

Have a good day, my friends.

In Passing ...

2011-12-06T12:37:00.001-05:00

Spots of age blemish once youthful green
gray skies crown waning days
The year has become long in the tooth
its life quietly passing away

Heavens cry in cloudy multitudes
though not with tears of grief
As days hastily conclude
embracing a last falling leaf

Rains are as jewels of renewal
when new beginnings near
Nature sings her timeless hymns
hinting of an awaited new year

Virgin is the wakening world
ripe with fertile seed
Bursting with life unspoiled
which naught may impede

Life may go on without us
fragile humans which we be
All things become a distant chorus
in this universal symphony

Dodge Charger R/T 440 vs. Ford Mustang 390 GT 2+2 Fastback = Bullit Fun

2011-12-03T11:46:00.000-05:00

If you watch this clip. notice that during the chase the cars pass the same green Volkswagen Beetle at least three times: @ about 4:12 then @ about 4:40 then again @ about 4:50 into the chase. Don’t tell me I’ve nothing to do.

Fa-la-la-la-la-–la-la-la

2011-12-02T12:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Carolyn took two of her prescriptions to the new Walgreen’s Pharmacy in Jonesborough; she had been using Wal-Mart Pharmacy in Johnson City but Walgreen’s is closer to our new abode. Fortunately, she asked the price before buying at the new place and it was $225 for three months supply of generic medicine. She told the man that she could get the same thing at Wal-Mart for less than $25 and he only shrugged and handed her prescription orders back to her. She drove the extra three miles to Wal-Mart where, for the inconvenience of having to go into the store and wait for a few minutes instead of using Walgreen’s drive-thru, she got both prescriptions filled for $20.
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I was listening to National Public Radio yesterday when they interviewed an award winning poet. Well, I liked her work ok, and I figured if she is an award winning poet, then I am a pretty damned good one too.
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I have almost decided to incorporate myself. My entity will be known as The Mother Duck Project and I have already begun using it to watermark my photos on Megashot. The corporation will cover my photos and writing efforts.
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Will Santa bring Tammy a white peacock for Christmas?
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Have a great weekend!
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Red Clay Ramblers

2011-12-01T08:52:00.000-05:00

One of the Best Bands in the USA

Seems like both Iran and Great Britain are itching for a fight. Have a good one, boys and girls.

I still say Obama is a hypocrite and more than likely will be a worse president than W. Bush. I wish the Democrats had someone to put up against him but it looks like politics as usual will win again. I can’t see any Republican who is now running that can beat Obama; J. Bush might have a chance in the hunt because he is pedigreed with papers, blue ribbons, rabies and distemper vaccination, and all other conservative requirements.

Sammy spent much of the afternoon gnawing an arthritis knot on my knuckle; all I could do was grin and bear it. For a man who has never had a tooth in his head, he has some mighty hard gums.

I’m officially done with winter for another year; come on Spring!

May your Thursday thrum be insignificant.

Cold

2011-11-30T12:20:00.002-05:00

I officially went over 10,000 words on Lover and most of it has had a first edit. Pardon me for crowing so much about this story, but I think it is a decent one so far. Cock-a-doodle-doo!
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We had a few snow flurries last night; supposed to get down to 22°F (-5.6°C) tonight.
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I was about to blog some more when Sammy came in, soooooo …
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Have a welter-free Wednesday!

Happy Birthday, Jerry!!!

2011-11-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

Happy 45th, JoJo!

As for your wondering why I didn’t have turkey on my plate for Thanksgiving dinner; I only eat turkey when a Republican president is in office. Eight straight years of Bush foundered me. I had a piece of Democrat ham for supper.

The Thanksgiving leftovers are all gone; gosh, I miss them. I gained only one pound over the long weekend.
Congressman Barney Frank is the first big-name rat to abandon the sinking ship of American government. I hope more will walk the plank behind him. We need to eclect newer and fatter rats. Now, if we can convice three or four Supreme Court justices to die and get out of the way …

Sammy is sick; Carolyn has gone to China-Mart to get a vaporizer for him; last one we bought was for Tabby more than 20 years ago. I will forever remember that time because Carolyn was having a stiff neck and she kept confusing the word “vibrator” with “massager”. When she got out of the truck, I told her to be sure to ask for a “massager” and you can guess what she asked for. She came back out and her face was redder than the K-Mart sign. She didn’t get a massager of vibrator, but the difference between them seems to have stuck with her. She did get the vaporizer for JoJo’s baby girl.

I can see! Xanax is a wonder drug!

Have a Tuesday, my friends!

Monday is the thud of the door opening on a new week

2011-11-28T11:41:00.000-05:00

It’s Monday once more; I suppose the Thanksgiving weekend is officially over and it is back to the grind for most Americans. I didn’t sleep very much last night and today my eyes are furious with me and have pulled a wildcat strike. Xanax tonight and the world will be all right tomorrow … except for the fact it is supposed to snow.

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OWS seems to have quieted somewhat but I have a feeling it is a lull before the storm; at least I hope so. At present, American shoppers are fulfilling the happiest wishes of Wall Street by spending money they don’t have and if they do have it, they should be saving some of it. Bah! Humbug!

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Carolyn is talking about taking Sammy to Bristol recetrack to see Speedway In Lights, an annual charity event. Ten dollars or there-abouts per car allows you to drive around the famous half-mile raceway which will be filled with millions of lights for Christmas. Sammy won’t remember it, but Carolyn isn’t getting any younger so I told her she should go for it.

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I case I don’t answer your comments today, it is because I cannot see well enough to do so; however, I have read and appreciate them and will try to do better tomorrow.

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Have good Worshday!

Windy with a chance of winter

2011-11-27T10:53:00.002-05:00

High winds all last night and this morning, with thunderstroms expected this afternoon; the air is rather warm. Yep, it is time; we are changing over to winter. Twenty-five more days until winter solstice, the most importand day of the year on Ken's Krazy Kalander.
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Our Escape is still broken and I don't know how long it will be before we can have it repaired. The washing machine is misbehaving, too, but we will use it until it dies. I need to work on my scanner; I've some docs and photos I want to get transferred to the computer. Everything else is nominal for the moment, as far as I know.
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Carolyn has begun putting out Christmas decorations; that cool Coca-Cola jazz playing bear is again on my desk and I have my Santa hat within easy reach.
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Have a good Sunday, everyone.

2011-11-26T11:21:00.001-05:00

Saturday! Mine eyes have seen the glory of too many words that I’ve written for Lover. I have taken a few days away from the work and can see somewhat better now. I hope I don’t have a problem getting back into the story; there is so much yet to write and I can perceive it becoming novel length.

The weather is becoming so screwy and I’ve read that it directly affects people’s mood, personality, and interaction with other folks. It surely affects Republicans more than anyone else because they will not even admit that the weather patterns are changing because of global warming and they are hands down the screwiest lot I know of.

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Lyrics for the America video:

Oh my sun and father have gone
Are you leaving me
my love
Is that what you promised me
Oh America, I know
So what do u say when your love is fading away
Do you run or do you stay
Or do you wait for the better day
She broke my heart in America
And I want to know
I lost my home in America
And i need to know
Sweet murderer
Sweet murderer are you
So why’d you go and run away
You’ll always go where the money grows
to see the things inside this life
With answers you already know
MMM mmm…
I guess i got lost in Arizona,
Where a blind man lost his shoes
Pretty world pretty wild winds were blowing now
You never like to lose.
Sweet murderer
Sweet murderer are you
Don’t tell me that you’re happy
Don’t tell me that you feel all right, I know
30 seconds, 25 years of throwing things around
I’m growing up
I’m waking up
You’re walking out that door
And even though in fairyland
You’re burning down our home
My heart in this world will save me
Oooh, save me
I’m all out of love
In this movie show
Staring ahead in the back row
Thinking about all the things you said
Knowing our life
In our movie’s dead… dead..
So, why’d you go and run away
You’ll always go where the money grows
To see the things inside this life
With answers you already know
what do u say
when your love is fading away
fading away
fading away
Oh my son and father have gone
Are you leaving me
my love
Is that what you promised me
Oh America, I know

Thanksgiving dinner 2011

2011-11-25T12:44:00.000-05:00

I ate at my desk

Hope my American friends had a great Thanksgiving Day and for friends in other countries who didn’t celebrate the holiday, I hope your day was exceptionally nice.

Carolyn had a so-so day of cooking, but the end justified a bit of angst she endured. First, her macaroni and cheese stuck and scorched in the pot. Then she brought me a sample of my favorite part of the holiday meal, dressing, and said it didn’t taste right. I tried it and was gracious in agreeing; it basically wasn’t finished baking because the onions and celery was still somewhat hard. Back in the oven it went and came out tasting much better. The day was good except that Jeremy, Courtney, Keegan, Jerry, and Tammy could not be with us. The eleven guests who were here had plenty to eat, and no fights broke out. Sammy provided entertainment.

Carolyn tried a new green bean casserole; it had mushroom soup as an ingredient and she feared no one would like it. It was delicious.

I had a vegetarian dinner; no turkey.

Carolyn is at Ashley’s where, along with Chris, they are putting up Sammy’s first Christmas tree.

My apology for the low sound volume on Sammy’s video; I think I must have had the microphone partially blocked with my finger. The flick was made with my Droid X.

Have a great weekend, my friends!
----

"Happy Thanksgiving" says Sammy!

2011-11-24T16:32:00.000-05:00

The Getting Old Handbook

2011-11-22T11:42:00.000-05:00

Rožňava, Slovakia

A thought about getting older.
The day you turn 50 you will become very sick all over and you will stay that way for a year or more but the symptoms will begin to slowly ease until you turn 60 when the real hurts start coming. On or before your 50th, A.A.R.P. invitations will begin flooding your mail box and you will realize you are a geezer, you are a half century old, your life has passed you by (whether it has or not), and you will be lucky just to live until the next day and have no doubt that you will never get out of bed again. Instead of remembering where the bars are located, you will be thinking about where the nearest emergency room is located, along with doctor offices and pharmacies. You won't travel streets where you know a funeral home is situated. You will start reading obituaries each morning, hoping none of your friends or old classmates are listed but if one of them is you think 'better he than me'. But, like I said, most of that slowly fades from your mind until you become 60, you have become a senior citizen entering your golden years and suddenly instead of seeing the Hammer and Sickle lurking as the great Red menace, you begin seeing the sickle in the skeletal hand as the ultimate Dark enemy and constantly looking over your arthritic shoulder to see if he has sneaked within striking distance. You may not actually see him, but you know he is there; he is is a constant dark spot at the corner of your eye which grows larger as the years go by. Your doctor says it is cataracts, but you know he is only trying to take your mind away from the impending end. You Know! Then is when Wisdom drops by for a quick beer and sandwich. Wisdom is something that comes to most people after they no longer need it. Wisdom consists of one word and that is 'oh, shit!'. Whoops, that is two words; I forgot to mention that your memory has become porous and is mostly made up of things that happened 30 years ago and those things which happened yesterday apparently didn't. You will remember the first time you had sex but probably not the last time ... unless it was 30 years ago. Life in the fast lane is trying to get to the toilet in time; your life dashes on in its headlong pursuit of comedy, error, and nap time.
----
Supposed to be near 70°F today; I am feeling much better, Sammy was here yesterday, great food and Sammy will be here Thursday, and I need to elucidate some syllables by way of the magic computer keyboard, expanding Lover.
----
Thanks to Jola for the photo; the mountains remind me much of my Unakas.
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Have a Tuesday!
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Mundane Monday

2011-11-21T11:07:00.000-05:00

Didn’t feel well enough to do any creative writing yesterday, but I was able to do a small bit of editing on Lover.

Sammy had his portrait made again Saturday. I’ve seen one of the proofs and it is pretty good.

Looks like all the Arab Spring bloodshed in Egypt was in vain; it seems to have resumed because the military wants to run things.

I still feel poorly so I will shut up. Have a good Worshday!
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Weekend

2011-11-20T13:19:00.000-05:00

Resting my eyes for a day seems to have helped immensely. I wrote 2,000 words of text for Lover yesterday; on Friday I did none. I now have 9,660 total words in computer memory. I still have to fix the mess I made with Thursday’s attempt. I think this story has some potential; it is a bit Forrest and Jenny, a bit Romeo and Juliet and lot of Baron Munchausen.

Last night I finished the book A Tale of Love and Darkness written by Amos Oz and recommended by Jola. It is well worth reading but be forewarned, it sometimes drowns itself in words and some page skipping may be in order for most readers.

I seem to be having a reaction to one of the immunization shots I got Thursday. Swollen neck and saliva glands. Don’t feel too good, either.
Hope to be back here tomorrow.

Have a Happy Sunday!

Flush me up, Scotty!

2011-11-19T11:23:00.000-05:00

Hizzin and Hern

Today is World Toilet Day! I love my toilet. I remember many of the ones which through the years made my life better. Most were dear friends who allowed me to take a load off my mind and were always open to share my urgent needs. A few of them became indispensable on Saturday nights during and after hardy partying; I loved hugging their cool enamel as I lay prone on the floor with my head or chin resting on their rims. However, I think they are being slighted a bit by having their special day before Thanksgiving. I believe the day after Thanksgiving would be a better salute to our loos. On that day we could share our turkey and trimming discards with them thus preparing them for the remainder of the long, holiday season where they will be heavily used by squatters, grunters, groaners, gassers, strainers, squirters, and the beloved huggers. We should all join hands and have a petition drive to delay this memorable day of celebration until Black Friday.
In the meantime, Happy Toilet Day dear friends!
—–
When Jola was vacationing on the Polish Baltic Sea back in early September, wrote me a note telling me she sent Carolyn and me a couple of postcards. After nearly two and one-half months in transit, they came in the mail yesterday. I will soon post copies or photos of them.
—-
Happy Saturday!

Shoe

2011-11-18T10:14:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I have fallen into a bit of a funk; I was ok until I went to doc yesterday but have been lethargic since I got back home. Perk up Shoe; you got work to do! Shoe (short for Tennis-shoe but I won’t get into that story) is one of my many nicknames; most of my closest offline friends refer to me as Shoe … except for Fly who calls me Shoody-doody; Gawd! Alice still calls me Ken and my family and people I know from my school days call me Wayne. My tramping friends called me Slim or Tennessee. I am a coat of many colors; add your own hue if you like.
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Hard frost this morning. Carolyn is working and later today will keep Sammy while his mom works.
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The new Krispy-Kreme donut shop opened earlier this week and still cars are lined up along the streets as people try succumb to their delicacies. I like their donuts, but I intend to keep buying from the local mom-and-pop shop as long as it is open.
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I got a flu shot along with a pneumonia shot at doc’s yesterday and I’ve lost two pounds more weight. Carolyn got her flu shot day before yesterday and is complaing of a sore arm; she is such a wuss. My arms are fine.
----
I wrote only a few hundred words for Lover last evening and what I turned out isn’t quality prose. Anyway, I got the idea down and will work to improve it as I go along. Shucks, I am still periodically editing the first paragraph of the story. So far, I have nearly 8,000 words typed out and I should easily get 2,000 more even before I begin expanding my ideas. I don’t want to drown the story in words which seems to be the norm these days. I suppose some of those authors are being paid by word output and others just don’t know when to shut up. I like writing pure fiction, if there is such a thing; I can’t help but put a bit of my personality along with that of others I have known into it. Fiction mimics life.
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Have a great weekend!

Getting pricked

2011-11-17T09:45:00.000-05:00

I have a late appointment for doctor checkup and to get a flu shot. Talk to you’uns later.

—-

Another short hunk of Lover; this is what I was writing last evening before my weary body failed me and my eyes dimmed. This will probably be the last update for awhile because I am still putting ideas together and typing is slow.

The remainder of my day was spent in mostly mental fog; the past two weeks my emotions had run a gamut from mundane daydreaming boyhood to supreme elation to yearning near-manhood to near terminal fear to impending doom and now into a deep purple funk springing from relief of some of my fear and onto even direr fear of upcoming loneliness and hurt. Was I in love with Darla? That was a conundrum that puzzles me to this day many years after the fact. Can a 13 year old boy whose gonads had yet to fully mature possibly be in love? Could a kid who thought that the main differences between a boy and girl were physical attributes, be in love? Could the forlorn feelings of sorrow and the hurt in my breast not be love? Was sitting along a country lane beneath a dusty apple tree longing for dusk to settle in so I could once more be with her while tears streaked my cheeks with little rivulets of mud; was that love? Does love hurt? If so, I was probably in as much love as my limited years allowed.

Ship of Dreams

2011-11-15T12:32:00.000-05:00

Another excerpt from Lover:

We met that evening between the same rose bushes as before and when her dad finally called her inside, Darla asked me to once again come to her bath the next Monday because she had something important to tell me. Being a bit dim witted in her presence, the possibilities of what she thought was important eluded me as her lips once more teasingly brushed mine.

As I moseyed toward home with sky rockets shooting between my ears, one profound probability of her meaning hit me like a mule kick, sending the light show inside my head to the farthest depths of unknown space; Darla was pregnant–I was going to be a papa!
—–
A legal fight is now happening in New York City, testing the merits of the American Constitution and the fabric of our capitalistic society. Will the haves with their unlimited access to money win out or will We The People with our desire for fairness prevail? Under cover of darkness, armed soldiers of the ruling wealthy removed unarmed protestors and their belongings from NYC’s Zucotti Park. With openness and acting within the bounds of our Constitution, lawyers representing the protestors obtained an injunction allowing people free access to the park, along with their temporary housing and belongings.
—-
Rainy dampness is saturating my bones today, and my joints have been hurting since yesterday. It is ludicrous to be able to predict the weather through pain; what the hell is the TV weatherman good for?
—-
Have a Tuesday!
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Lonesome Tonight?

2011-11-14T11:02:00.000-05:00

A small step forward.
—-
The story excerpt I posted yesterday has and is changing dramatically. It now looks like it will be a lengthy process because I am changing it from a simple story of young lust into a more complicated story of life itself. I have a notion I can adapt an older story I wrote as to become the ending of this one. I shouldn’t need a lot of changes to get that part done, however, my style of writing has changed over the years and it may cause some problems to keep a flow. As it stands now, the new one has 3,000 words and the old one has 3,000 words. I believe I can can come up with enough pertinent additions to have at least 10,000 words. Hell, I don’t have much else to do besides hobble around on a crutch. Thank you all for reading the excerpt and for your comments.
—-
The “Man” is cracking down on the horrible gangs of peaceful Occupy protestors. Cops and handlers be warned; a day of reckoning is coming and it will be sooner than later. You will be victims of your own stupidity because the same methods you use to track, identify, and harass innocent citizens will work against the machine the same as it has against We The People. You cannot hide.
—-
Tomorrow is blood work day for Carolyn and me. She has a doctor’s appointment Friday and mine is Thursday, bot for regular checkups.
—-
Have a splendid Worsh day, my friends.

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Lover

2011-11-13T15:00:00.003-05:00

This is an unedited portion of a story I am writing.

Lover

Part 1

Our little community was spread out below my all-seeing gaze; a few houses, barns, pens, and sheds but mostly family farmlands of pastures, meadows, and crops all interspersed with clumps of trees ranging in area from just two or three dotting the open lands on up to several acres of woodland on the larger homesteads. A winding road, sometimes graveled, sometimes mostly dirt, and many times squishy Tennessee brown mud, wound away between farms and from my vantage point of the high hill just east of the homes, looking much like a westerly snaking, tan stream as it crawled over low hills and through small valleys on this mid-summer day. An occasional vagrant breeze would kick up a small puff of dust from between the apple and black cherry tress grew along fence rows on each side of the road. On fewer occasions, a car, truck, or farm tractor would mutter through the curves, raising a huge cloud of smothering powder which seemed to have a mind of its own and headed unerringly for the nearest house to settle on freshly hung Monday wash. I was a 13 year-old boy who was left to my own affairs much of the time and who had the deep pleasure of a world-encompassing imagination. No, I had a universal imagination; the planets, stars, and galaxies were merely places I knew well but I just had not lived long enough to visit them. I knew that someday I would be a famous space explorer, conquering far away worlds and bringing alien species into the light of the American way of life; at least as I knew the American experience such as consisted of all my years spent living in a small farming valley.
On this day, I was seeking another type of alien life form; one that lived in the community and had been underfoot for most of my years. She was Darla, a girl of 12 years whose clothing was beginning to push out in pleasing directions from the body of a skinny and freckled tomboy pest to that of a maturing young woman. Suddenly she had become pretty as her boyish short, brown hair had turned to blond during the past year. Like me, she was an only child and was my closest neighbor on the south side of the road, but in the country, living close by is a relative thing. Actually, she lived nearly a quarter of a mile from me in a small house with her parents. Her mom and dad worked at different textile mills in Booneville; her mom had gone to work when Darla reached 10 years old, and the girl was left to herself during the weekdays until they came home from their jobs. In the 1950′s, it was safe; nothing ever happened in our backward part of the Appalachian foothills but she was sternly warned not to allow anyone into the house; no one. Of the few boys in the community, she lived closest to me and for that reason I knew I should have first dibs on her.
I was astride my new Western Flyer bicycle (only sissy city boys called them “bikes”) which my dad had surprised me with on my just-past birthday, sitting in the mid-day shade of a huge oak tee which my imagination figured probably had been growing there when the pioneers pushed across the mountains 300 years ago. Darla’s Monday tasks were to wash the family clothes and pin them on the line to dry in the sun. Like most locals, they didn’t have a lot of clothing to wear but her task still took up all of the morning as she built a fire in the cook stove, hand-pumped water from the cistern, and heated some much of it in the steamy kitchen. The hot water went into the ringer washing machine which was located in the converted smokehouse near the back door of the house, and the remainder of the water went into galvanized tubs where “delicates” were hand washed.
Being thoroughly interested in her budding anatomy and from weeks of careful observation, I found that Darla always carried more hot water to the smokehouse after she finished with the laundry, where she would shut the door and not emerge until about an hour later wearing a robe with a towel wrapped around her hair, and going directly to the clothesline to pin the clothes which she had been wearing and had just washed. It took a couple of secretive days of detecting, but I finally figured out that she was taking a bath while shut away behind the smokehouse door.
Smokehouses being what they were in this part of the world—places not to smoke and cure meat, but rather places to hang salt-cured or sugar-cured hog meat in sacks until it was needed for winter food by the family—airy from all the cracks and spaces between the siding and floor planks, soon led me to achieve an idea which turned out to be one of the best conceptions that would ever wind it’s snaily way through my convoluted brain; I would peek at Darla while she bathed.

Part 2

As luck would have it, Darla’s house was built alongside a patch of old woods with a separating hog-wire fence that was thickly covered in vines and tangles. When I figured it was about time for Darla to finish the washing chores, I rode nonchalantly past her house the same as I did a few times nearly everyday on my shiny red bike but this time I hid it is some brush along the road and about 50 yards from the smokehouse which was my target. I eased into the woods in a roundabout way, making toward the shed, easing from tree to tree. Soon, I was at the fence between the smokehouse and the outdoor toilet where I knew the wire had been mashed down by a long-ago heavy limb falling from a storm-wrenched tree. The fence and its burden of vines pushed against the unpainted planks and I had to get on my hands and knees to crawl to a place where I thought I could see without being seen. Easing along on the perpetually dank and moldy-smelling ground, I worked my way through spider webs and across decaying remains of whatever had decided to die there over the ages and was soon at my goal. I found a likely spot which offered a view inside through a small crack between boards where I figured if I was very quiet, she would not likely know of my presence.
I a short while, I heard the back screen door creak open and saw the smokehouse interior go dark as she closed its front door. In a moment, Darla came into view as both her eyes and mine became adjusted to the weak light streaming through the cracks and crevices in the siding. She poured two buckets of steaming hot water into the long, metal bathtub which she had previously partially filled with cold cistern water. She then turned to directly face my peephole, lifted her top off her shoulders, and and pulled off her shorts and panties. In a few seconds when my mind decided to re-register my whereabouts, she was saying as she turned and stepped into the bath, “I know you’re there, Billy Goins and I’m going to tell on you!”
To be continued …

Dry Bones

2011-11-13T11:05:00.002-05:00

Another tune remembered from my childhood.

Dream A Little Dream

2011-11-12T13:48:00.002-05:00

Happy Saturday, everyone.

Seasons

2011-11-11T14:00:00.000-05:00

Dipping flights of leaves, brown, orange, green, and yellow returned to the soil from whence they were born, patiently metamorphosing and awaiting spring’s rebirth. Spindly forest skeletons drowse in shifting autumn sunshine, momentarily awakening to shiver their bones as transient north winds mockingly speed by. At evening time when chill descends from cold stars above, trees huddle in clumps with loners left to idle the night with solitary thoughts; only evergreen pines and cedars are left to while away the dark moments, whispering in secretive tones. Deep seasonal divisions cleave the world as haughty winter gales tease the countryside from lowering gray clouds along peripheral horizons. We must follow the example of the leaves and nestle ourselves back to our wombs of warmth and comfort while preparing for the coming rebirth that is spring.
—-
Please take a look at Jeremy’s latest blog post and follow the link he has provided. He took my dream sequence and changed it into poetry of the soul. Thank you, my son.
—-
Happy Veteran’s day, America!
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Happy Independence Day to Jola and all the people of Poland!
—-
Have an inspiring weekend, my friends.
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Flying High

2011-11-10T11:44:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Tammy for the video. Her husband Mike and his father are featured as passengers on this WW-2 era B-17 Flying Fortress bomber nicknamed the Nine-O-Nine. I like all the planes of that war. The B-17 was used mostly in the European theater and had a lot to do with the defeat of Nazi Germany. I love the planes but would never fly in one of them or any other airplane; I have a back problem that prevents such activity. The most famous B-17 is the Memphis Belle which flew 25 raids over occupied Europe and Germany during the war and always brought her crews back to her home base in England, one of the few bombers with such a record. Fortunately, I was able to see some WW-2 planes at a local air show in the early 1950′s and there was a B-17 on display but I was not able to board it or any of the other planes. Congratulations Mike, his dad, and Tammy (I think) who were able to enjoy such a once in a lifetime moment. The video was put together by Mike’s brother and is very well done with great complimentary music.
—-
Rained last evening and has turned cool; should warm again by Saturday. Screwy weather.
—-
Joe Pa certainly should have resigned as Penn State’s football coach, but he should have been allowed to finish the season. I hope the rectums who fired him on a knee-jerk reaction are forced to grab their hats and follow him to the unemployment line.
—-
Presidential hopeful Herman Cain has apparently been caught in a lie and Rick Perry has been caught being himself. The Republican duh machine rolls on. Meanwhile back at the ranch, Barack Obama is continuing his quest to be the most disappointing president in recent history; he could well be the worst chief executive if George W. Bush hadn’t sealed up that title for all time.
—-
Have a happy Thursday, gentle people.
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2011-11-09T09:59:00.000-05:00

An early surprise this morning to find out that women in Mississippi still have some respect from the voters; the state was trying to do away with abortions by making it a law to recognize fetuses as human beings. I have mixed feelings about abortion, but I do believe in a woman’s right to choose.
In Ohio, voters decided not to limit collective bargaining thereby protecting worker”s rights,
In Maine, same day voter registration was restored. It was another form of disenfranchisement for many people.
All these bad laws were enacted or supported by Republicans whom will probably pay the slap-downs little attention and march on with their heads stuck up corporate asses. Voters failed to get rid of the conservative governors who oversaw and approved the tyrannical laws, however.
—-
My how the world is changing so quickly. When I was born, Hitler’s Germany was on the defensive yet still slaughtering as many Jews, Poles, and Gypsies as he could round up. It is now 67 years on, and even though life’s landscape has enormously changed, people are still people and there are wannabe Hitlers born everyday.
I think I should write about all the major changes that have come to the world since I was born but I won’t be so vain as to say they would not have happened if on that blessed August day in 1944 I had not been presented to the cosmos for the betterment of mankind. I won’t say it but I know it is true.
—-
Have a wonderful Wednesday!

Lyrics for Cowgirl In The Sand.

Words

2011-11-08T11:17:00.000-05:00

In the past few days I’ve realized something I should have known for the past 60 years and why I wasn’t told this in school I do not know: All the words in the English language do but one thing; they describe. Nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives, pronouns, and dangling participles all do the same thing in different ways; they describe people, places, and things either directly or by describing simple relationships. Why am I just now realizing this simple fact? I always thought there was a grand, universal theme and scheme with words. I feel as if I am emerging from my personal Dark Ages. Now I must decide if I am too old to care about the implicated mundanity or if I am just a ninnyhammer.
—-
A local Exide battery plant is dismissing 500 workers and moving elsewhere; no one has said exactly why it is being done but I figure it is probably another case of corporate greed. Employees be damned.
—-
I am reading A Tale of Love and Darkness by Israeli writer Amos Oz as recommended by our friend Jola. I just finished chapter three and so far it is a very entertaining book about growing up in Jerusalem. It is difficult to set a time line because he speaks of the British Mandate and Neil Armstrong which are many years apart. All I know is that I am seeing through the eyes and mind of a little Jewish boy and I am guessing he was born before Israel became a state.
—-
What a great bunch of musicians was Lynyrd Skynyrd; Ronnie Van Zant was a super lyricist and front man. Too bad one song lowered their esteem in the eyes of many, including myself.
—-
Have a Tuesday, y’all! Are Tuesdays recyclable or should they be tossed?

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Indian Summer is here

2011-11-07T11:07:00.000-05:00

Why is Italy the fourth largest debtor nation in the world yet is only the eighth largest economy in the world? Instead of penalizing debtor nations like Greece, Italy, and Spain, maybe the big European nations who control the purse strings should reassess just how much they allow the subsidized mega-banks to be free-wheeling entities.
—-
Had another flat weekend; didn’t even bother to sit on the porch and enjoy Indian Summer. Indian Summer is a warm spell during early November that we enjoy in many years. Carolyn was out running here and there both days; she had to buy some diapers for Sammy yesterday. He is ill from the one of the shots he got last week.
—-
We have birds and squirrels out the ears at this house. We’ve seen all the normal critters one would expect except for deer; I suppose they will show up sooner or later. Hopefully, we are a bit too far from the mountains for roaming and hungry bears.
—-
Occupy Johnson City has a permanent encampment home near downtown and along the much traveled State of Franklin Rd. The movement here seems to be growing fairly rapidly and other nearby cities are inquiring about how it all works.
—-
Have a good Worshday, my friends.
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It's me!!!

2011-11-05T10:19:00.000-04:00

'ello

Sammy got a couple of shots yesterday and Ashley said he didn’t cry. Instead, he gave the nurse a look of “what the hell did you do to me?” He did manage to pee straight up in the air when the nurse removed his diaper; good boy!
—-
This morning arrived dressed in a shroud of heavy, gray fog. She also had an icy stare as the temps were below freezing.
—-
I finally feel like getting back on Megashot for at least a few minutes each day. I am once more doing my ‘meets and greets’ and writing a few comments here and there. The site is undergoing an influx of new members once again since Cyrus and crew placed the new and fast cloud servers online. When version 2.0 of the site goes online, I believe it will draw in many more photographers and artists because it will remain high quality and be much easier to use, especially for new members. It is and will remain a teaching and learning site for shooters at all levels.
—-
I’m doing a bunch of writing; the new story I began about the harem is expanding into other universes and looks like it can become book length if my mind and fingers hold up long enough. I need to be writing about fifteen-hundred edited words each day, but that figure is a bit unrealistic; I like to loaf a lot … a whole lot.
—-
Rest in peace, Andy Rooney. You were a true journalist.
—-
The photo is typical of my being any morning before coffee except I did shave a bit of the scruff from my face. Isn’t Carolyn lucky to wake up with this beside her?
—-
Have a good Saturday!
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Sammy and Billy

2011-11-04T10:54:00.002-04:00

Sammy is now eating solid food and loving it. He is having a doctor checkup this morning.
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Cold and rainy; low ceiling and the visibility is less than one mile. November has set in and it is time for us to have some snow flurries in the lower hills.
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I am using Google Chrome browser this morning; Firefox is crashing on startup. I uninstalled it, reinstalled it, and it still won't run. I am now running a rookit finder to see if I have been invaded by aliens from the planet Orch where computer maladies are compiled by naked geek co-eds.
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Civilized Americans set their time back tomorrow night.
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The Republican nomination circus is getting good. Allegations and allegories are flying between all the talking heads. No matter how guilty the candidates are of being complete jerks, the press will eventually get the blame for their troubles.
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A couple of years ago I gave CNN's Anderson Cooper some grief in my blog. Actually, I have come to realize he is a pretty good reporter and probably doing the best he can under the circumstances of working for a network where profits are more important than real news. Mr. Anderson, I apologize for my disparaging remarks and hope that you will keep on giving us your best.
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Have a good weekend, dear hearts!

Secret

2011-11-03T11:16:00.000-04:00

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
Thus states the Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution. This week, the Supreme Court will begin deciding how this applies to the digital age of electronic surveillance. I fear that a conservative ruling will lead to further erosion of the Constitution and there is no reason to think that there will be a liberal outcome protecting the rights of individuals. There will be no secrets as Orwell’s Oceania creeps closer.
—-
The Occupy movement will be seen by the public by the bad things that happen during a protest. Yesterday’s vandalism in Oakland doesn’t bode well for gaining public sympathy. The hell of it is, no one knows whether it is out of control protestors, common street vandals, or stooges sent in by the one-percent (cops, etc.) who are destroying public and private property.
—-
Nothing worth talking about going on in my life, so I will bid you a good Thursday.
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Mid-week mumblings

2011-11-02T09:47:00.001-04:00

I see that the Cheney/Bush inspired torture of suspected terrorists who have been accused of no crimes is ongoing in our subsidiary state of Afghanistan. Under his facade, Obama is just as bad or worse than Bush in many, many ways.
—-
Women’s college basketball season has once again begun. I won’t see many games on TV this year, but I was able to watch the Lady Vols play an exhibition on the net last evening. It was coach Pat Summit’s first game since she was diagnosed with dementia–an early onset of Alzheimer’s Disease–earlier this year. I look for this season or maybe next season to be her last as coach, but I know she will continue on the job as long as she feels that she can perform up to her own high standards.
—-
Hooray for Greece, her Prime Minister Papandreou, and her people. Whether his decision to have a national referendum was a political measure or his having the guts to place democracy above finance, is laudable. The European Union wasn’t bailing out Greece from financial trouble; it wants to provide relief for huge financial institutions who made bad financial decisions, much like the Wall Street bailout of 2008. If other nations, including the USA, would follow Greece’s lead, we could have a new breath of freedom around the world. It would be much like the Arab Spring in that we would be rebelling, but this uprising would be against a tyrant which restricts the livelihoods of every person on this planet; out of control capitalism.
—-
Israel is pushing its luck by spitefully annexing more Palestinian land for its own use. American’s are becoming tired of being protective puppets and money cows for Zionism. Israel has the right to exist as a sovereign nation and so does Palestine if it so wishes.
—-
Have a great Wednesday (except for Mark who is having a foggy Thursday) my friends!

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2525

2011-11-01T11:26:00.000-04:00

Lyrics for In the Year 2525

In the year 2525
If man is still alive
If woman can survive
They may find

In the year 3535
Ain’t gonna need to tell the truth, tell no lies
Everything you think, do, and say
Is in the pill you took today

In the year 4545
Ain’t gonna need your teeth, won’t need your eyes
You won’t find a thing chew
Nobody’s gonna look at you

In the year 5555
Your arms are hanging limp at your sides
Your legs got not nothing to do
Some machine is doing that for you

In the year 6565
Ain’t gonna need no husband, won’t need no wife
You’ll pick your son, pick your daughter too
From the bottom of a long glass tube

In the year 7510
If God’s a-comin’ he ought to make it by then
Maybe he’ll look around himself and say
Guess it’s time for the Judgement day

In the year 8510
God is gonna shake his mighty head
He’ll either say I’m pleased where man has been
Or tear it down and start again

In the year 9595
I’m kinda wondering if man is gonna be alive
He’s taken everything this old earth can give
And he ain’t put back nothing

Now it’s been 10,000 years
Man has cried a billion tears
For what he never knew
Now man’s reign is through
But through the eternal night
The twinkling of starlight
So very far away
Maybe it’s only yesterday

In the year 2525
If man is still alive
If woman can survive
They may find

In the year 3535
Ain’t gonna need to tell the truth, tell no lies
Everything you think, do or say
Is in the pill you took today …

Happy Bisrthday, Colleen!!!

2011-10-31T10:49:00.000-04:00

Boo!!!

Thanks to Tammy for the jack-o-lanterns photo. The sour-puss dude–second from right–is definitely me this morning. Tammy’s pumpkin carvings show some of her artistic abilities.
—-
The Occupy movement seems to be getting more attention each day as protestors from around the country are being jailed for any minor offenses–real or imagined–which the elected and appointed officials can think of. Although city and municipal leaders highly desire to keep their well paying and prestigious positions, they don’t care one iota about the rest of us. Cops, as usual, are nothing more than willing puppets of the master race who want some innocent blood on their hands.
—-
Didn’t do a damn thing this weekend. First time in years that I didn’t get some decent autumn leaf photos; first time in years I didn’t get to Buck Mt. to shoot the Christmas trees all in a row; first time in years I didn’t get photos of the old church on Walnut Mt.
—-
Here is a piece of a tale I’ve been thinking about expanding into a short story:

With his surgically created sardonic grin, naked and corpulent Badi the Castrato and his enormous scimitar shaped phallus guarded the Teaching Harem of Alim the Kind. In other kingdoms Alim the Kind was known as Alim the Coward or Alim the Blamer or Alim Who Leads from Behind for he was not loved anywhere but by his own people and their affection was mostly in his imagination.

Badi the Castrato had once been a king of a rival country but had fallen upon hard times and come begging to Alim his Brother. Alim kept him as jailer for one of his harems, annexed his kingdom, and became powerful; too powerful for many of his other royal rivals and they were constantly looking mover their shoulders.

The older women of the Teaching Harem were misty-eyed dreamers of memories who were, by various means, taught to believe themselves as aged and no longer fit for the attentions of His Highness or even for his guests. Most were no more than thirty years of age.

The trainees were taken from their parents when they first showed signs of maturity and many of the nubile youngsters were happy to be away from the drudgery of their poverty laden lives. After each day”s instructions, they sat twittering about how they would be the ones to really teach the king the finer points of making love.

—-

At least it is now Monday–have a great Worshday, y’all ,and a Happy Halloween too!

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2011-10-27T11:55:00.000-04:00

Wilbur 2007

Leaf color is nearing its height as we go into the weekend which is supposed to be cold and sunny after showers today and tomorrow. I hope to get to Wilbur no later than Sunday and see if the colors there are as spectacular as they were in 2007.
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Ok, let’s say that Occupy works well and we begin getting the country back for the benefit of all. Will Occupy members run for high public office in next few elections, say state legislatures and maybe even Congress of the USA? Will these people be sincere? Will the sincere ones be corrupted by power? The reason I ask these questions is because I’ve seen this scenario before; when hippies–mostly young–persuaded he government to reduce the voting age from 21 years to 18 years. Many very young people ran for office and some of them were elected and a significant lot of those turned out to be worse than the greedy fat-cats whom they had replaced. Power corrupts.
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Have a good Thursday!
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Train-Train part 2

2011-10-26T09:11:00.000-04:00

Jola's photo; I thank her for allowing me to use it

Last night was quiet ... too quiet considering I live very near railroad tracks. There were no trains rumbling by to harass my sleep until 6:05 this morning when a southbound came chugging through. The local rag is reporting that a couple of wild boxcars broke away from a previously unknown herd and rampaged back and forth through three counties before wearing themselves into exhaustion and finally coming to a rest near the town of Watauga. Fortunately no innocent track-crossing persons were killed or injured during the dangerous escapade. The cold and confused escapees were finally caught and sent to a homeless shelter for lost and abandoned machinery before being spayed, neutered, and further processed. Hopefully they can be reunited with the remainder of their herd or placed into loving homes. If anyone knows the whereabouts of the feral locomotive that lost the runaways, call your county train dispatcher and if anyone is interested in having a loving boxcar for a household companion, call your local boxcar shelter, junkyard, or the Tennessee Department of Mental Health.
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It is more than a bit disconcerting to me to learn that New York City has an internal affairs division of 1,000 cops hired to investigate the the crimes of the remainder of the police force.
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If ever a coward there was ...
It has been reported that N.Y.P.D. officer Anthony Bologna who sneaked up on peaceful Occupy Wall Street women protestors that were cordoned off from the public and then blasted pepper spray directly into their unsuspecting eyes, has been harshly disciplined by having 10 days of vacation taken away from him. If you view the video, watch Bologna, a supervising officer in a white shirt, slink away and act the innocent after his aggravated assault on the women. Very cowardly! No wonder I have trouble respecting "officers of the law". Is this the "Rule of Law" which Mr. Obama touts when he speaks of exporting democratic ideals to the lawless world? Phooey!
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Otherwise, have a great Wednesday, my friends!

Happy Birthday, Cathy!!!

2011-10-25T10:15:00.000-04:00

Everyone please keep Dear Alice and her family in your thoughts; her sister’s husband passed away in West Virginia. She will be journeying there as soon as she finds out what the arrangements are. Peace to you and all of your loved ones, my friend.
—-
Time may be an undefinable invention of abstraction, but you will come to know that it is in fact as extant as anything which we can realize with our physical senses. Time definitely has weight and as you grow older its increasing mass relentlessly presses down on your shoulders until you feel the burdens of all the world are being carried by you alone.
—-
In yesterday’s dream sequence, the tibbets I referred to is Paul Tibbets, the pilot of the plane which dropped the A-bomb on Hiroshima, Japan in the summer of ’45. The manson family was a cult of cold-bloodied killers lead by Charles Manson in California during ’69.
—-
I had a very tough weekend with plans to go to Walnut Mt. and the old, abandoned church and then on to the Christmas tree farms and apple orchards on Buck Mt. Instead, it was a weekend of much discomfort caused by a huge buildup of fluid in my chest. First bout I’ve had with that malady since July. I finally feel well enough today to get caught up on a few things.
—-
Have a Tuesday.
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night

2011-10-24T12:49:00.001-04:00

northbound freight trains rumbled by shaking me out of warm bedding and onto the frosty steel deck of one empty flatcar where light rain was stinging brightly my naked body through a wintry mist and passionless stars aglitter as tibbets droned overhead and wobbling beams of locomotive search lights looked to be miles ahead where the screech of air horn blasts were little more than a single toot through the onrushing darkness which was broken in places by industrial fires and lights of many large and small towns along the tracks and children and manson families romped noisily at school playgrounds under cold and weak winter sunshine which wasn’t sufficient to produce electricity from weedy solar farms dotting hillsides sporting bright spring buttercups and skeletal families waved from lichen encrusted concrete crypts as four of us rode the open car through farms of amber waved plenty and ancient detroit suburbs where pungent scents of newly mowed hay was cocktail blended with the stinks of big cities decaying beside a moonlit riverside just as the train crashed into the station awakening me with a startled spasm lifting me back into my warm place and the night remained quietly normal
—-
There were a few robins in the back yard Saturday morning. JJ and Todd found a large black snake on a tree out back; maybe it will catch the mouse who has so graciously decided to share our home with us.
—-
Have a wonderful Worshday!
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2011-10-21T13:00:00.000-04:00

So much for Obama’s highly touted “Rule of Law” in Libya. Moammar Gadhafi was captured, tried, found guilty, and executed in the blinking of an eye by a New York Yankee’s fan. It says a bunch for the glorious export of Western-style democracy … and commercialism. Which foreign leader wants to be next in the sights of America’s freedom rifle?
—-
For the past two evenings, I’ve tried to watch the baseball World Series. It was the first time I’ve watched a full inning of baseball on TV—except for a few college games—since the ’89 earthquake series and will probably be the last time. I don’t know why I even tuned in to the game last night or the night before. I suppose it is something like watching a teeny-bopper titty flick; sometimes I feel compelled to do so and always end up wishing I hadn’t. Baseball is so boring, especially on TV. Nine players run into the playing field and then try to make three players on the opposing team wish they were somewhere else. The opposing players try to make the field team look like fools. The problem is that it is almost entirely in slow motion; you’d think they were getting paid by the hour for their efforts instead of the multimillion dollar salaries they each receive, win or lose.
The only way I could possibly become interested in baseball again would be for them to have some excitement between innings. How about a few downs of football, something like the colleges have in their overtime games between the first and second inning? How about a dirt track World of Outlaws auto heat race between the fourth and fifth innings. For that all important seventh inning stretch, they could play a couple holes of pro golf in the outfield. Between the top and bottom of the ninth, they could have a music concert. At least people would get their money’s worth of entertainment throughout the event. Maybe they could cut the baseball game to four innings so people could get home at a decent hour.
In my youth, I loved baseball and the Brooklyn Dodger’s first baseman Gil Hodges was my favorite player. However, the New York Yankees were my favorite team. I liked many players from other teams, too. Back then they had real men who were players first, very much the opposite today’s coiffed automatons who play the game only for the money. When Pete “Charlie Hussle” Rose was forced out of the game in 1989 by its commissioner of betting, I lost all interest in the sport and realized it was no longer a game but instead it had become just another big entertainment business, much like a Madonna concert. The fan’s wants have been removed from the game except for the money they generate for team owners and players.
You da Man, Pete!
—-
Rant’s over … Have a great weekend!

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Train train

2011-10-20T10:06:00.000-04:00

JJ found one reason the trains are so loud in the back of the house; my bedroom is smack above the basement drive-under garage and the garage door is acting like a drum head; amplifying the rumble, the rattle, and the roar. We are also half-way between two grade crossings and we get horn-blasted coming and going.
—-
I can see what looks like snow covering the upper flanks of Unaka Mt. this morning. The sight does nothing for my perpetually grumpy disposition.
—-
Where did I learn anything about kissing a woman’s hand, you ask? After all, you are but a mere hillbilly and probably married your mother or your sister or your first cousin, you say. Did I kiss the cow’s foreleg before I stump-broke her, you ask?
I’ll answer the last question first. ‘No’.
First cousins, mothers, and sisters desire to be kissed and pampered, too.
I learned what little I think I know from movies, mostly. Rudolf Valentino was very good at on-screen woman wooing, and many other leading men of pre-WW2 romantic films were pretty darned good at hand and arm kissing, although I think most of them were somewhat clumsy at lip smooching. Clark Gable was known as a pretty good lover of and for the ladies—off-screen and on-screen—and he did most of his hand kisses very well.
Anyway, I learned that keeping eye contact is the most important thing in hand kissing. If you are suave enough, and the lady is in a receptive mood, a lot of messages of intent and interest can be made with the eyes from the time your gazes meet through your picking up her hand and slightly leaning into it and on to the soft kiss and maybe a gentle stroke or two of her wrist before you release her. You are the charming snake and she is the your pretty little bird victim. Her eyes will tell you how well you did and your eyes can tell her you want to do a lot more.
Stuff like this comes natural to some men, but there is no way I could ever pull it off. Too bashful am I and I ain’t keen to being slapped. To say the actual flat truth, I have no real idea of what I am writing about when it comes to matters of intimate interpersonal male-female relationships. Truth! I’m just a hillbilly.

Have a lip-smacking Thursday!

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Mid-week mutterings

2011-10-19T10:59:00.000-04:00

No Occupy and no politickin’ in this blog today… maybe later.
—-
Didn’t get any decent shots of Sammy yesterday; I was using my fast f/2.8 105mm portrait/macro lens but even at that, I was using natural window light and hand-holding the camera.
—-
Raining and turning cooler with possible snow showers in the higher hills tomorrow night. Another four months before robins return. We still have not had a hard frost and it is affecting leaf color.
—-
For men only; women please do not read this. Thank you.
Never leave the company of a woman without presenting her with a kiss … if possible. If she gives you her hand, gently lift it to your lips and place a kiss on the back of it; not just a chicken peck but let it dwell for a second while looking into her eyes. If she doesn’t panic, kiss her wrist before slowly releasing her hand. Keep eye contact! If her body language makes you think she liked your effort, smile and lean slightly toward her; if she does nothing, you are free to place a small kiss on her cheek, but first, whisper something sweet to her before your lips touch her skin. Again look into her eyes, smile and turn to walk away. Odds are that you will (A)-Get an invitation to come in for a few moments (B)-Get a hug and possibly a kiss on the lips (C)-Get an invitation to call her. Or you could get an offended slap or even a knee to the straddle.
Being terminally shy, I have never tried any of this but it sounds like it ought to work.
Disclaimer: I am not responsible for broken egos or smashed scrotums … kiss at your own risk.
—-
Have a wonderful Wednesday!

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Squeak

2011-10-18T15:25:00.000-04:00

We have a mouse in the house and I have a suspicion I know where it came from.
—-
Sammy is coming over today so I can attempt to make some photos of him in his Halloween-themed clothes. I am a lousy people photographer and I don’t have much faith that anything I make will be acceptable.
—-
Have a Tuesday!
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Another war for Holy Oil

2011-10-17T14:24:00.000-04:00

I read where there has been a sizable oil discovery in Central Africa. Obama is sending some fully armed troops into Central Africa. For a president who declares he is going to get us out of such conflicts, doesn’t this seem a bit strange? Well, no. If major oil companies want troops sent, then there will be troops sent. Remember Kuwait and Iraq? Another tip that it is being done for Big Oil is the fact that Congress is not raising hell about the deployment of more troops in harm’s way. When big oil owns the government, things get done and most of those things are detrimental to freedoms of the ninety-nine percent. It is disquieting when government is so hush-hush about something as serious as getting more of our troops killed in the name of Holy Oil.
—-
Did you see the video clip of the undercover cop pushing a protestor inside CitiBank just so he could arrest her for trespassing? Is this Your America?
For years I have been challenging America to wake up to the underhanded shenanigans of our politicians whom have become prostitutes to big business. Seems like with the occupy movement, some of us are suddenly climbing out of our dreamworld and realizing the financial, cultural, and educational nightmare this nation has become. We must awaken many more and show them the truth so that they may become active in the effort before the one-percent slips us a Mickey and sends us back to the sandman of complacency. In high school, I had to take a half-credit course concerning the problems of democracy. Not for one minute did it cover any of this kind totalitarianism. Wake up America!

Songs of the hills

2011-10-17T10:14:00.000-04:00

Two nights; two songs. Didn’t sleep well the past two nights so I sent my mind down a heretofore untrodden path. In my thoughts I composed lyrics for two songs, both bluegrass and both gospel (ok; so I’m a hypocrite). One is tentatively entitled ‘My Golden Crown’ and the other is ‘Aunt Mary in the Kitchen’. Hillbilly/bluegrass is what I call innocent music; there are no long, foreign, or high-education words; most are only four or five letters long and deal with the things familiar to hill people. It is a simple music for a simple way of life.
Iff’n I had a banjer, I’d play one of them thar tunes fer you’uns … iff’n I knowed how to play a banjer.
—-
I think I have the Escape problems narrowed down to the transmission overdrive; on an educated hunch, I took the car out of overdrive while we were cruising along yesterday and it smoothed out and didn’t miss any more. We were almost home so I didn’t get to give it a good test but I think I am on the right trail. It will still have to go to a mechanic if I can find one I can trust. I’d rather deal with a shady lawyer than with a shade-tree mechanic who claims to know it all.
—-
Occupy is picking up steam worldwide. The powerful one-percent are bound and determined not to allow the other ninety-nine percent of us to share in the wealth by giving us a chance to make a decent living and have a happy life.
—-
Mark for Alderman of Gibsonville, North Carolina! Gotta start somewhere.
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Have a good Worshday!
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Uneasy weekend

2011-10-16T17:32:00.000-04:00

Breaking in Warsaw's 'Old Town'

I’ve been a bit under the weather the entire weekend. I didn’t make it to the Occupy, but I understand it was a success with between one-hundred and two-hundred marchers of very diversified backgrounds making the trek from E.T.S.U. to downtown JC. I was planning on being there, but got voted down by Sammy; he decided he wanted to go shopping for Halloween outfits therefore he went and I sat at home. Hope I can get some decent pics of him in his new duds.
—-
Didn’t sleep well last night, so I stayed in bed until late this morning. I rode with Carolyn to clean the little bank, and then we went driving through the countryside and finally ended up in the mountains. I am guessing that next weekend will be best color for hills at around 4,000 ft. and the next weekend will be good at 3,000 ft. and lower. Hope the weather is good on next Saturday or Sunday.
—-
Thanks to Jola for the fine ‘breaking’ photo. The kid’s attires are as interesting as the dance.
—-
Have a great new week!
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Pill poppin'

2011-10-14T10:43:00.000-04:00

Carolyn went to pharmacy yesterday to get refills on her RA med and on my Xanax. When she got home she needed to take one of her capsules but couldn’t find them. She searched the car, called the pharmacy to make sure they had given her the meds, called Wal-Mart—she went there after leaving the pharmacy, and called the gasoline station because she went there after leaving the store. No sign of our drugs anywhere. She searched the car once more and went through the grocery bags from Wal-Mart; by then she was very perturbed. She once more checked the car and found nothing but a very old french fry from McDonald’s which, I might add, was still as fresh-feeling and tasty as ever after I brushed the lint, dust, and a hair off of it. She came into the office and sat down; I was feeling sorry for her because I knew she was hurting and needed her pill. After a few minutes, she struggled to her feet and went into the kitchen and presently came back with a chastened grin and carrying the pharmacy bag with the pills. Where did she find it? In the dry foods cabinet with our cereals.
—-
“The hearts of the rich are hardened. The existence of the poor is a reproach to them.”
~ Murray Lenister
Cities around the country are attempting to put the hurt on Occupy protestors by failing to issue permits for certain activities in certain places, and for other grievous sins of peaceful rebellion. New York City is threatening (by proxy) to out the protestors from the park where they have been camped, saying it needs to be “cleaned up”. Big money is apparently becoming frightened by the populous uprising and is fighting back the only way it knows how; by buying the municipal governments. Look for more confrontations with excitable police as the movement solidifies.
—-
Have a good weekend.
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Happy Birthday, Jeremy!!!

2011-10-13T12:04:00.000-04:00

Three days old and the Dreads have begun growing

Dream

2011-10-11T10:56:00.000-04:00

My American Dream was born on Main Street and died on Wall Street.
—-
Rainy this morning; should be sunny and mild for Saturday’s Occupy. The above slogan will be on my protest sign. Protests can work. Remember James G. Watt? He was a part of Ronald Reagan’s conservative insanity. Lost his job as Interior Secretary; even Reagan could not withstand the public outcry against his good friend.
—-
Carolyn is at hairdresser and my world is peaceful.
—-
Looking 10 years ahead seems like a long time. Looking 10 years behind is seeing the blink of an eye.
—-
Have a Tuesday!
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Singin' tha blues

2011-10-10T12:53:00.000-04:00

OCCUPY!
—-
What a lousy weekend it was; thank goodness it is now Worshday. Carolyn mentioned going out for awhile Sunday so I could make some photos, but when Sunday came and I was eager to go, she decided to stay home. It isn’t safe for me to be driving, especially the smallish Escape, which means I am at the mercy of being hauled by someone else; I feel like a forgotten old dog. I haven’t been off the place in nearly two weeks and was very much looking for an outing. This morning, she did take me to Fall Branch with her to clean the building there, but it was straight there and straight back home. I am bored!
—-
Speaking of the Escape, it is broken. Just paid out hundreds of dollars to get the brakes fixed and now it has developed an intermittent miss in the engine. It will soon be not fit to drive. Get it fixed and sell it, I suppose. I hate when cars begin nickeling-and-diming a person to death, especially these days when nickels and dimes have become big bucks.
—-
“We have to have a strong, effective financial sector …”
~Barack Obama
Having a strong financial sector doesn’t mean we have an effective one. Mr. President, would it not be better if we had an effective financial sector based on the needs and strength of the people instead of the wants and whims of the few who own Congress and the White House? Stop playing politics with our livelihoods.
—-
Have a great Worshday!

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Rag Doll

2011-10-08T11:58:00.000-04:00

Marla had no illusions about Greg; to him she's like a cup of coffee from McDonald's drive through. She's fine while hot and steamy but she would soon find herself tossed cold and empty along the roadside.
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Be happy when the baby sleeps ... soon he will awaken as a teen.
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I hope for a global "Occupy" on October 15. Plan on participating in your home town; your presence and voice can make a difference.
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Politicians are beginning to take notice of the Occupy Wall Street movement, and yes, with their lip service pro and con, the protests have become a legitimate movement. Hopefully, it can and will become the We The People revolution which has long been my desire.
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Today I wish I had cable TV; I would love to see the Georgia-Tennessee football game.
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If I were to oversee the selection of the first members of the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, the only two I would pick the first year would be Bill Haley and Elvis Presley. Michael Jackson would never have a place in it.
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The Four Seasons were the first big name musical concert I ever attended ... 1964 ... I think. The opening act was Brenda Lee.
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2011-10-07T09:56:00.000-04:00

Around four decades ago, hardhats--my union brethren--attacked peaceful Vietnam War protestors in NYC; I was appalled and ashamed of my union membership. The marchers were also protesting the Kent State Massacre but the construction workers applauded the Nixon/neo-Nazi Army National Guard for killing the students. Now that the shoe is on the other foot and the union construction industry is in decline and organized labor has all but lost its political influence, they seem to be siding with the Occupy Wall Street movement. Obviously many non-trade unions are supporting the cause, too. My my, hey hey, rock 'n' roll is here to stay!
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If the movement can coalesce, it can turn into something which can change the world. I listened to some of the participants of Occupy Wall Street yesterday, and just all about the people interviewed were protesting for different reasons. That is ok, but I think they need a catchall purpose with strong organizational leadership to make the movement work; if not, I fear many of the splinter protestors will become disillusioned and go home.
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Obama and Biden are giving political lip service to the protests, and Biden even sounds a bit sincere, but until I hear a sincere apology for T.A.R.P. and the damage it has caused for everyday Americans, they may all take a flying fuck at the moon. Even hillbilly I am smart enough to know there is no sincerity in candidate's rhetoric.
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Congratulations to Tawakkul Karman, Ellen Johnson Sirlea, and Leymah Gbowee for sharing this year's Nobel Peace Prize.
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Title quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
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Have a great weekend!
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Talking About A Revolution

2011-10-06T09:07:00.001-04:00

Has the Revolution begun? Even conservative geezerville Johnson City has an Occupy Johnson City clone of the NYC Wall Street groups. I see glimmers of hope for finacial equality everytime I watch videos of cops using riot sticks to beat unarmed protestors. Such police actions in Chicago pretty well killed the hippie movement of the 60′s; maybe this time it will empower more folk to become involved in restoring and safeguarding their liberties.

—-
Disappointed I am; I didn’t win the Nobel Prize for Literature. A Swedish poet won this year; Tomas Transtromer beat out Bob Dylan. Haruki Murakami and myself for the prize. I suppose the fact that Transtromer is Swedish and that the prize is awarded by a Swedish organization is not pertinent. According to CNN, … the academy has had a tendency to pick obscure European writers over the past several years. Maybe I should change my name to something catchy and move to Europe; it is for sure that I am already obscure enough.
—-
Apple’s Steve Jobs has died. I cannot say I liked him personally, but he was definitely a superb leader, innovator, and salesman. He changed the world of personal communications and entertainment along with creating jobs for many Chinese citizens.
—-
I am being disenfranchised as a voter; Tennessee has a new law which forces anyone wanting to vote to show a state or Federal I.D. card with the individual’s photo on it. A driver’s license will suffice. However, Tennessee also has an old law that says people over age 60 do not have to have their photo on their driver’s license. The new law is another Republican sponsored attempt to require every American citizen to have a an I.D. Sooner or later, it is going to happen even though it is most likely unconstitutional. Of course, the Constitution has become a mere piece of history for right-wing extremists to trample upon whenever they have a knee-jerk whim. They have made the document much the same as they have the bible; it means whatever they choose for it to mean.
—-
Have a great … Thursday already?
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Words of no value

2011-10-05T12:29:00.002-04:00

Sammy spent most of the day with us yesterday and he was a bit out of sorts; I think he is cutting his first tooth. He just turned three months old, gnaws his fist, and slobbers like a dieting chef. I tried to make some photos but didn’t have enough light and he wasn’t about to hold still enough for a 1/60 sec. shot.
—-
The squeeze is getting worse as banks create or raise fees on every service affecting the middle class and poor. Maintaining overly-high profit margins is the New America. Bank of America pretty much told President Obama to mind his own business when he complained about the unreasonable increases. He seems to have taken their advice.
—-
I want to do another story but am having a case of writer’s block compounded by memory corruption. I’ve found a couple of places in my last story that need a bit of work, mostly in the important opening paragraph.
—-
Sean Connery or Roger Moore as 007? Best 007 movie?
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I mentioned yesterday that old-time hillbillies didn’t care for classical music. They didn’t much like Shakespeare, either. In fact, they didn’t much care for anything British; after all, they are of Scots-Irish ancestry and there has been bad blood with the English for hundreds of years. They have also been told how the English treated the Watauga settlers during the Revolution by inciting native Americans to attack and kill people who had no interest in supporting either side and that added to the animosity toward the Crown. When Lord Cornwallis threatened to send troops over the mountains to wreck the settlements because they would not side with the English, settlers from the Wolf Hills (now Abingdon, Virginia), the Cumberland Gap area, the Nolichucky settlements, and the Watauga settlements mustered at Fort Watauga and hiked into North Carolina to take their brand of war to the British. They whipped a Red Coat army which had taken defensive position atop King’s Mountain; it is considered by many historians as the turning point of the American Revolutionary War in the south. Personally, I like the British; they are probably the best friends the U.S. has in the world and they gave us Monty Python! History lesson over ... class dismissed.
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Have a good day!

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Soulshine

2011-10-04T11:23:00.002-04:00

I was just thinking …………………………… . . . . . . . .
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Sunday morning I was tuning through the AM radio band just to see if it was still being used and for what it was being used. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find the frequencies being put to use by local, small church preachers; some large city churches were also broadcasting their Sunday sermons to the masses.
Until the late 1960′s, AM radio was about all there was other than shortwave broadcasts from abroad. FM was around, but was not popular among the proletariat; it had the reputation of snobbishness because many of the few available stations aired jazz and classical music, something which made hillbillies sneeze and fart and run screaming for the outhouse. My first real introduction to the FM band was in 1972 when I bought a Dodge pickup truck which had an AM/FM radio. It was love at first listen for me; I remember driving home to Tennessee on Friday evenings from working in West Virginia, and somewhere atop Flattop Mt. on the West Virginia Turnpike, I started picking our local FM station from Johnson City which was WJHL-FM. The good part was that they were playing some album oriented rock and roll and a mix of other genres. By the mid-70′s, the station had changed its call letters to WQUT, boosted its output to 100,000 watts, and was playing only album oriented rock and roll to ex-hippies and cool-dude fans in several states. By the late 70′s, the station had become the most popular commercial FM station in the United States, beating out markets in New York City and Los Angeles. With shows like The Tennessee Midnight Rambler on Saturday nights and Friday afternoon’s Blazing Turntables (Blazing TT’s), along with the uninterrupted playing of a new album each Wednesday night at 12:00 which could be recorded to cassette at home, the local rock scene was booming. Big-name rock bands were begging to play recitals at our small Freedom Hall Civic Center. Then along came—choke-choke—disco and before you could say ‘where’s my coke spoon’, the station became mostly Michael Jackson and other to 40 vomit. Sometime in the late 80′s, it once again tried to recapture the old magic by changing to a hard rock format, but it was too late, new wave country garbage like Achy Breaky Heart was mesmerizing the nation. WQUT is now just another classic rock station, playing repetitive canned fare each day and beating our brains into jelly with The John Boy and Billy Big Show each morning … disgusting!
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Have a Tuesday, my friends.
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Frost!

2011-10-03T09:48:00.002-04:00

Pie

We had patchy frost this morning! Come on robins; come on Spring! Yes, I know; I am wishing my life away but most of my winter life is miserable anyway, so I might as well crave an early grave on a warm, spring day … in about 30 more years.
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Amazon has just released for pre-order their new Kindle Fire tablet which many say will be an Apple iPad killer, at lest in the market place. It is a Google Android based product with a 7″ touch screen and has full net access much like my Droid X smart phone. The killer part is the highly popular Amazon Kindle branding and a price less than one-half of the iPad’s cheapest model: the Fire sells for$200. It has no 3G or 4G access to Amazon’s Whispersync service, but will work on any normal wi-fi network. The units will not be shipped until November 15th, but if you want the versatility of net access in a reasonable sized package and an enticing price for an Amazon Kindle product, it is worth a close look.
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Curly or Shemp?
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Where I last lived, the medical center’s quick response helicopter flew over my house a lot; I lived only two miles from the hospital. The chopper was always low enough over our place to drown out anything and everything; it was extremely loud and annoying. When I moved to my present location, I figured the trade-off of helicopter for trains would be a fair deal, but little did I know that the chopper followed the RR tracks to the hospital. Being situated on a high ridge, my house is now as close to the helicopter as ever when it flies over at least once each day or night, plus the shape of the hill funnels the sound of the trains right into my bedroom window. I wonder if I could use the Patriot Act to justify shooting down the air-ambulance and blow up the train tracks; both terrorize my sleep?
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Republicans! Finally do something good for your country and give us Rick Perry as your nominee for President of the United States! Wubba-wubba!
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Have a great Worshday!
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1st class priority mail

2011-09-30T10:54:00.000-04:00

Save our rural post offices! The United States Congress is on a rampage of rape and pillage throughout the nation—targeting mostly the poor, the young, the ill, and the elderly—and closing 2,600 postal facilities across the country is another slap-down to the people who most need their local offices. The U.S. postal system is a government corporation and is supposed to be self-sufficient but it needs help. Obama, McCain, and most of the rest of Congress busted their asses to bailout Wall Street, so now it is time to serve We The People by saving the oldest public institution in the U.S. Wake up, America!
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The photo of Sammy which I posted yesterday was made by Ashley but she used my camera so I should get some of the credit!
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I think Carolyn may have her old van sold; I hope so because she has little use for it and it is a gasoline hog.
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Gonna get cold tonight and be very wet and chilly tomorrow, more like November than October. I suppose I will have to start wearing long pants, socks, and underwear again.
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Have a pleasant weekend, Dear Ones.
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Sam I Am

2011-09-29T17:19:00.000-04:00