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 |  They say:"Third time's a charm". We shall see. Welcome to my third blog on WDC, |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The above picture has graced both my other blogs and of course I had to have it here...Me and my sweetie. This is my third blog here on WDC. This is, in effect, my house. So please come on in and make yourself at home. Please don't mind the mess because this part is still under construction and I will be adding stuff in the next few weeks until I get it the way I want it. About the Title: "Tor's House"....Well in a way, this is what a blog is to many of us. It is our way of inviting the world into our personal space. Just like in real life, I will endeavor to be the best host to my guests that I can be, but you must understand...in my house I tend to speak my mind. I apologize in advance for any who may feel uncomfortable. What will you find here? Oh that's easy....Humor, strong opinion, and even some philosophical musings....or what passes for that with a dumb ole country boy. So I welcome everyone...come in and let's sit and chew the fat awhile. Let's talk about stuff and see if we can figure out the answers to the world's problems....or what to make for lunch...whichever. |
| This will be my last blog entry......of 2008. HEY! STOP APPLAUDING!!! I thought that I would do one of those mandatory "Year In Review" sort of things that all the Networks are so fond of doing during this season. So, let's recap the year, shall we.... 1. January 1, 2008....GLOBAL WARMING IS A DAMN MYTH!! I spend this month sitting on a heater while vainly trying to attempt to save frozen extremities. On New Year's Eve I had made roughly 79 resolutions...all dealing in one way or the other with getting the hell out of this frozen wasteland and back to TEXAS! By the end of this month Mel had quashed every one of those resolutions, not to mention my head, with her dang Whooping Stick. 2. February, 2008....Earth still frozen. I spend my days refusing to venture outside. I sit at the front window and stare outside, convinced that the next creature I see wander by will be a Woolly Mammoth. 3. March and April, 2008....see previous entry. 4. May, 2008....WARMTH HAS RETURNED! I rush outside in my underwear and frolic in the cold-damaged grass of my front yard.....BLESSED HEAT! Startled goats stampede through the fence and out the back pasture. Takes Mel three days to coax them back up to the barn. I am banned from going outside without being completely covered.....geeze. 5. June, July and August, 2008.....The temperatures soar all the way up to 90 degrees or what we in Texas like to refer to as "Autumn Weather". I get to laugh at all the natives who are collapsing of heat stroke while I wear a light sweater and complain of a slight chill! Bunch of WUSSIES!! 6. September through December....Cold returns. I begin to compose another list of at least 79 resolutions all dealing with returning to Texas. Mel gives me "The Look". I tear up my list, put five more blankets on the bed, and resume my station by the front window....that damn Mammoth will be coming by any time now..... HAPPY NEW YEAR MY FRIENDS! |
| Well Christmas is done and the year is stumbling to its close...right on time. A sure sign that the Christmas season is done is the fact that Wal-Mart is now busy putting out EASTER merchandise. I had not planned on blogging for the rest of the year but I decided that I could not let Christmas end this year without telling you about Mel's special Christmas gift she received and not from me either. As all of you who read this space know, Mel is a great lover of nature. All animals are considered her personal "babies", and there has never been a better fed bunch of wildlife in this state than those who live near our little farm. I have told you before that she runs a dang restaurant for animals..."Che Mel" is open 24/7 and offers a menu well suited for both furry and feathered customers alike. Feathered fowl of all descriptions are served in our cozy dining space...better known as MY FRONT YARD, while the mammal contingent is served in our spacious side yard. At any given time you can find Blue Birds, Robins, Finches, Doves and various groups of small sparrows shouldering each other for dining space just off our front door. The Mammal diners are usually found enjoying an offering of sweet meal and corn after the sun goes down. Deer, Coon, Rabbit, and possum happily intermingle in epicurean delight every night. As for the chef, well Mel is never happier than when she is sitting and observing the diners of both areas. Of the Mammal contingent, Mel's deer diners are her favorites. She has one group of two another group of three, and a group of four that regularly come by to feed....never at the same time though. Yes, each group will come in, eat, then leave to make room for the next group. It seems they don't like to mix with each other. Mel hates that because some of the groups will come in very late and she doesn't get to watch them. Then came Christmas Eve. Late that evening Mel was out in the side yard spreading the evenings bounty on the ground. She then came back inside and kept an eye out for her deer to start to arrive, and arrive they did.....first two, then three, then four, then one or two new single diners wandered into our yard. She called to me excitedly to come look. When I got to the back porch and looked outside I was treated to quite a view. The side yard was completely full of deer! It was dark and hard to count them, but I did manage to count ten for sure and I could see movement in the shadows that was probably two or three others. This was the very first time that all the deer had arrived together and since Christmas eve, it hasn't happened again. Yup, God gives good gifts doesn't he. Mel enjoyed watching her deer feed, play, jump and run in the ice and snow for over an hour and the smile on her face was enough to warm the whole house for the rest of the night. This was a perfect Christmas at "Che Mel"....just ask the diners. |
| Christmas morning and the house is quiet. The smell of turkey in the oven and pies cooling on the kitchen counter permeate the rooms as I relax in front of my computer. In a few hours my sister-in-law and mother-in-law will arrive and we shall all sit down for dinner. In a few moments I will begin making phone calls to touch base with absent children, children scattered all over the country, from Texas to Washington state. This has been a good Christmas; one full of peace and quiet and a house full of love and contentment...what else could a man ask for. I hope each of you have a good day, a day full of love and happiness and a day which gives each of you a chance to say: "Happy Birthday Jesus." |
| As many of you who have followed my blog for the past four years know, I have a particular curse that follows many men my age...dreams. They use to be constant companions, these reminders of a time long ago, but over the past few years they have come to me less and less. Last night was the exception. Over and over again last night I was thrown awake, screaming and fighting. Mel would gently stroke my face and arms until I was fully conscious and back into the real world, a world of no violence, no killing, no hatred. After about the fourth of fifth time I could take it no more and I got out of bed and staggered into my darkened living-room. I sat here at my desk in a stupor, my head pierced by a pain not unlike a knife blow to the temple and I wondered...why. Why, on the day before the most holy day of the Christian calender, was I tormented by visits from these ghosts? Then it came to me; I looked around at a house devoid of any Christmas decorations. No tree brightly lit, no presents, no mistletoe and no garland were in evidence but there was something else here. There was peace. It was then that I knew why God allowed me to be revisited by the memories of a Christmas 40 years in the past. He wanted me to know what I have now. I have peace and I have love...what else can a man want? I think he wanted me to be aware of the greatest gift a man like me can ever receive and that is the gift of forgiveness which He has given me freely. Forgiveness for those things that are now just memories in an old man's sleep. I am reminded that it was He who allowed me to live, allowed me to grow old, allowed me to find a mate who loved me unconditionally, and He allowed me to find a measure of redemption. Yes, the horrible night I just went through served to remind me of what tomorrow is really all about and it is not about gifts and spending money, or outward signs of Holiday Happiness. It is about the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Happy Birthday Jesus....and thank you for my life. |
| It is one o'clock in the afternoon and I should be at work but guess what.....it's freezing outside and the roads are iced over. I am saddened to say that this inclement weather means I am unable to make it into work today...I am crushed. Did that sound sincere enough? The silver lining to this particular dark cloud is that tomorrow is Christmas Eve and for the first time in ten years, I have Christmas Eve OFF, and of course we are closed Christmas Day. So you see, because of this horrible, terrible, untimely, {answer to a prayer) weather I am now going to have three days off. It also means that I have once again survived another Christmas season at Wal-Mart. Yesterday was bad enough to make up for anything I might miss by not being there today. Let me see if I can describe yesterday for you.... Have you ever attended any professional sports championship game, like the Superbowl or the World Series and at the end of the game, tried to fight your way out of the parking lot? Well that is what our own parking lot looked like. Fights were breaking out in said lot over parking spaces and there was at least three accidents....and that was OUTSIDE the store. Inside the store, to take the sports analogy a bit further, pretend for a moment that you are at that championship game, it is half-time, and there is a NICKLE-BEER special. Now imagine that YOU are the only person in charge of selling that beer....you get the picture? That was pretty much my day yesterday, but now it is over. My Christmas looms ahead and promises to be a quiet and peaceful time, a time for me to rest and reflect upon the year that has passed and begin to plan for the year to come. I have decided that my next project that I want to start work on this next year is a book about my experiences at Wal-Mart. I have a working title for the thing...what do you think: My Journey to the Door Chronicles of a Wal-Mart Wage Slave Of course my first thought for a title was a little more colorful: Don't Tell Ma I Work at Wal-Mart, She Thinks I'm a Piano Player in a Whorehouse! I dunno, that second one sort of sings too doesn't it.  |
| When I was a teenager, growing up in rural Texas and working on a ranch, often I would find myself too far from home to make it back before dark. When the weather was fair, this posed no real problem for me. I would just make camp wherever I was when the sun went down. Sleeping out under a roof of stars was one of my favorite things to do. But, on such times that the weather turned sour, when a sudden Spring thunderstorm would pop up, or one of those "Blue Northers" would blow in, pushing storms ahead of it, then I would have to resort to my emergency pack. The pack always went with me whenever I rode my horse any distance. It consisted of a medium sized tarp and full saddle bags. I would stop for the evenings and if I saw weather coming, I could take a small hatchet from my saddle bags, cut three saplings and tie them together at the tops with the ends braced in the ground in a tripod fashion. Then I would take my trusty tarp and wrap it around the poles and tie it off securely. Within minutes I could have a nice, cozy, three-sided shelter from the rain and wind. Then all I had to do was build a fire, boil some coffee, and sit and watch the storm roll in. That old tarp kept me safe and warm in a lot of Texas storms and was one of the handiest things I ever owned. I was reminded of that old tarp the other day while watching the news on TV. Those old boys were discussing the TARP Fund. Troubled Assets Relief Program (Tarp) was set up by Congress to aid the failing banks....you remember that don't you, the banks were going to go belly up and Congress rode to the rescue to the tune of 700 Billion Dollars. Well it seems that the first half of that money was sitting in an account, minding its own business when along came the Auto Industry crying for help. So what was Congress to do? Well of course they had to rescue THEM as well. About that time, while Congress was wringing its collective hands and wondering what to do for those poor Auto people, they suddenly remembered: "Hey, we got 350 billion dollars sitting over here doing nothing....let's just give em a chunk of that." So Congress has whupped out that old TARP and measured it carefully. Happily they figured out that there was enough room in that ole thing to cover not only those poor bankers, but also those poor Auto boys who had already sold their private jets after all. Now both of them are warm and comfy under that TARP while the economical storms rage around them. Here's the deal....That's an awfully big tarp and I'm looking at some damn dark looking clouds overhead about now. So I wonder what's the chance that this old cowboy might crawl under that dang TARP one more time. You think those ole boys would scoot over and make room for me? Hell I wouldn't take a lot of room under that thing. I figure 30,000 dollars would do it. Yep, that is a bit more than I would make working my present job for the next two years and in two years time I would safely be able to draw my Social Security...you know...that's all that money I have paid in for the last forty years. During those two years I could live on that money and devote myself to writing the Great American Novel, selling it, then selling the rights to Hollywood and have them make the movie starring a lot big stars. Of course, when that happens I would pay back my part of that old TARP. My plan is at least as sound as what the Auto boys have come up with to use TARP for. As for the Banks....they ain't talking, they got their spot under the TARP and they don't want to lose any more, I guess. What do you think, should I give Bush a shout-out and ask him to make room for me, or should I just wait Barak to ascend to the throne. Maybe I should wait on him, he has promised everything to everybody....that ought to cover what I need. Hell this might even make me a Democrat....okay....that was a joke. "My hypocrisy goes just so far" as Val Kilmer said in Tombstone. |
| I got up this morning with the best of intentions. I planned on sitting down here at the computer and writing a deep and meaningful blog entry...something to do with history; a subject I love and more importantly, that I understand. That was the plan. I opened up the page for "blog entry" and was about to begin to type when my eyes fell upon two blurbs to the left of the page...under "Sponsored Links". It said: Would you rather....?: (nw) An interactive story thats not a story at all. Epic Adventure: (nw) An interactive story of epic scope told entirely in Haiku and Limericks. All genre welcome. Damn folks, I know this is a writing site and as such, the place is just chock full of "creative" folks, but these two items just struck me as rediculous to the point of being sublime. Think about it for a moment if you will....They are asking you to write a story that ISN'T a story and the other touts itself as an epic adventure, including all genres, but written in Haiku and Limericks. I am now envisioning Larry McMurtry's Pulitzer-prize winning novel: Lonesome Dove written in Haiku and Limerick form......REDICULOUS! Why is it that some people's idea of being a writer is in direct proportion to how many mental gymnastics one can perform with the written word? Whatever happened to just telling a good story? Oh I know, there are some out there who will look down their noses and declare that these are two examples of true "Art", well I happen to disagree. The art of writing is the ability of an author to paint a believable landscape of words that draws a reader in and lets them experience the adventure and the drama of the tale. The Art comes in how believable the story is to the reader. The Art comes at the end of the tale; the last sentence, the last word, when the reader heaves a sigh of regret that the story is done....that, my friends is the Art of writing, not how many different styles and genres you can mash together on the page. Of course I could be wrong. Maybe it is because of my advanced age, or my lack of formal education that I do not see the "Art" in crap like this. Let's face it, Picasso leaves me cold while Rembrandt stirs my soul. When I look at a painting I want to be able to identify what I am looking at. Any fool can throw globs of paint on a canvas and call it "Art" but a true artist can show you a world you can identify and become a part of. The same with writing. The thing is, this world would be a pretty dull place if everyone agreed with me. Of course there is room for all kinds of "Art" and interpretation of what makes up art and if stuff like those two items are what you consider writing, then God bless you...just don't be surprised when some old crumudgeon like myself thumbs his nose at it. I just don't get it. |
| Global Warming my sweet aunt Gerty! I wanna see some of that damn global warming around here. Any of you tree-huggers want to know where the glaciers are, do you think they are disappearing? WRONG. They aren't disappearing they just moved to freaking Missouri! Want to take a picture of a glacier just come to my house. I have ten miles of ice in any direction from my front door. Go ahead, ask me what I was doing as the sun went down yesterday. Glad you asked, I'll tell you what I was doing; I was spreading CORN on the ground for the deer and seed across the front yard for the birds. Mel strikes again! She wouldn't even listen to my argument. I tried to interject some common sense into the equation...boy what a mistake that was. I argued that they were WILD animals for god's sake, they were use to the weather, they lived for generations untold without someone feeding them during winter....WHY NOW? As a result, I soon had a side yard crowded with fat, well fed, deer and a front yard covered with fat, well fed birds. So, in the spirit of feeding the animals, I asked innocently...."What's for dinner?" "I didn't get a chance to go to the grocery store before the ice storm hit, so I guess you can fix yourself a baloney sandwich." Mel said. "WHAT? I know you went to the store, my billfold is empty." "Well yes I did go to the store....the FEED store. I was out of DEER corn and BIRD seed. I ran out of time and forgot to stop at the grocery store." "DOH!" So here I sit...more or less frozen...with nothing in the house but COLD CUTS! I am going to be forced to resort to Plan B. This evening, at dinner time, I shall be out there in the side yard competing with the freaking DEER for a few mouthfuls of CORN! I'll say it again....GLOBAL WARMING, MY SWEET AUNT GERTY!!!! |
| I KNOW, I KNOW.....two entries in one day. Yeah, well I'm bored and I have nothing to do so you get to suffer. Besides, my first entry was kind of serious and I KNOOOW how much you people hate serious during your festive, manic, go broke, holidays so I figure I would lighten the mood a bit and maybe make you smile. CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE PSYCHOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED... * 1. Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear? * 2. Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Kings Disoriented Are * 3. Dementia --- I Think I'll be Home for Christmas * 4. Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me * 5. Manic - Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and..... * 6. Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Town to Get Me * 7. Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire * 8. Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why * 9. Attention Deficit Disorder --- Silent night, Holy oooh look at the Froggy - can I have a chocolate, why is France so far away? * 10. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - - - Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle.......etc. What? You mean that didn't make you smile? Look people, just get on the damn happy wagon will you. Let's face it, if you give any credence at all to the ancient Mayan calendar, you would know that the world will end in the year, 2012....that's just three years away. So why not just get happy in the meantime? On the other hand, maybe the Mayans were full of crap. After all, their world ended pretty much with the arrival of the Spanish and they didn't see that one coming did they. So, maybe the world won't end....of course if it goes on, we will still face a few bumps in the road. Our dollar is quickly becoming worth about as much as monopoly money, Industries are going broke, Wall Street is going belly-up, all the other countries hate our guts, foreign reporters throw shoes at our leaders (that was about girly), while here at home we got Barak about to ride to the rescue and make it all better. I say to hell with it all. Let's just nuke em, then take over what's left and then HAVE OURSELVES A HOLLY, JOLLY, DAMN CHRISTMAS! |
| Yesterday the world outside my windows turned white. A mixture of snow, ice, sleet and freezing rain began to fall. I took one look at the weather radar online and decided that, even if I made it to work, I would probably not make it home so I stayed put. My decision was borne out later in the day when I read the report of a woman who lived down the road from us who died when her car slid out of control into the path of a tractor-trailer rig. She was on the same road I take to work and it happened right about the spot I would have been had I left for work at my usual time. One decision: Go or Stay. Her life ends and mine continues. Ain't life a bitch sometimes. As I sit here I try to remember all the times I have made decisions like that which turn out to be the difference between life and death. The time I chose to go right instead of left on a certain trail, the time I chose to stop and lob a grenade before walking through a door. You weigh the options and make a decision.....sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. So I made the choice that the roads were too dangerous and I am sitting here today in front of a computer screen while a lady who chose differently lays in a funeral home.....How many times do I get to roll the dice and win? Yes, my thoughts have turned to the morbid this morning, but what can you expect....the world is simply white outside my window and white happens to be a foreign color for this warm-weather Texan. Any minute now Mel is going to come bursting through the living room singing the joys of winter and the snow. She will demand that I get out of my chair, put on six or seven pair of pants, shirts, jackets and coats and accompany her outside to frolic in her white wonderland. Another choice for me to make. The only difference is, with this set of choices....I'm screwed either way I go. |
Like my good buddy, partyof5  , I have been walking down previously unexplored streets in Blogville of late and, like Party, I have been underwhelmed at what I have found.When I first started blogging, years ago, Blogville was a place where giants trod. Back in the day, as the saying goes, every blog I opened left me in awe of the talent of the writers. There were people in here who could make you cry with the beauty of their prose or they could make you hurt yourself laughing with their comedic talent. That was then and this is now....things change. Many of that group has moved on. Some are still here but rarely blog any longer and a very few remain as regular blog writers. The watchword today around Blogville seems to be: Conformity. To this end a number of "groups" have sprung up urging bloggers to "Follow the Leader" by offering prompts so everyone can write on the same subject. Whatever happened to originality? I have never followed a prompt in writing my blog and seriously doubt that I ever will. Heck if I ever got the urge to do that then I would just email Carolina Blue and have him write a blog for me. At least then I would be assured of having a good entry.Originality....If you want to read quality, original, blog entries, try catching the Saturday editions of Nada and Scarlett  's blog. These two ladies set aside Saturdays for autobiographical entries that has taken us from 1968 to 1985...so far. Each entry is the story of their lives for that particular year. I freely admit that I could never do what they have done. Now there is real talent for you.If you want original comedy then try reading the blogs of partyof5 and emmyloo. These two writers are the closest you will ever read to Dave Barry and Erma Bombeck and you get to read them for free here on WDC.Of course anyone yearning for Historical and political commentary need only go as far as the blogs of Carolina Blue and Eric Wharton  . These two men are masters of the art.Yes, there are still a few giants walking the halls of Blogville and if you ever want to really enjoy the site you will search these giants out and read their blogs. Or, you can just follow the prompts. I guess it depends on what you want for your money's worth. |
| If I live to be a hundred and fifty years old I will never understand women. Here's the deal.... My wife has been busting my chops for weeks to "Get the lights up!" She has this thing about decorating the outside of the house with those freaking lights and I hate the things. I hate decorating, I hate putting up the tree, I hate all those tacky outward signs of Decking the dang Halls. But I am nothing if not a good husband so I by God put the lights up. Now Mel isn't speaking to me! I can't win for losing...I did what she wanted, I put the lights up. Here is a picture of my handy work. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| The former chairman of NASDAQ has been charged with running an old style Pyramid scheme which defrauded stock holders out of something like 50 BILLION dollars. His victims were not only normal people playing the market, but also big hedge-fund companies, universities, and investment firms. You would think those folks would recognize a scam when they saw one. I had to chuckle. Looks like the Bail-out of the auto industry has about made its last circuit of the toilet bowl and is about to disappear. One of the things that turned off lawmakers from the idea of helping those folks out was the fact that, even though all parties involved were ready to make sacrifices, one group was not. The UAW...that grand ole union of auto workers...refused to give up any of their pay package. That pay, including hourly wage, health care, and retirement, represents a package that averages about $72 per hour. Actual hourly wage starts at about $18 per hour and works up to something like $35 to $40 per hour. They say they can't live on any less. I had to laugh out loud. They can't live on any less? Folks I have little sympathy for people like that. Why? Because I work a forty hour week for $11 per hour. My wife can't work, so we live solely on my check and we are not starving. We pay our bills and we buy food......we live. So why can't auto workers live on less? God knows we are not special and if we can do it, anyone can. The people I really feel sorry for are all those employed by the dealerships and all the small companies that support the auto industry. They make nowhere near the sort of money those Detroit pigs suck down at the pay trough, but they will suffer right along with them and suffer even more. By the way....auto workers for Toyota and Nissan, in this country work for roughly half what the workers for the big three work for. How would you like to be an Illinois politician these days? It is rumored that the local Federal Prison is planning on dedicating a whole wing of their prison to these guys. So what I want to know is, with corruption so wide-spread, why is it that all the other politicians declare complete surprise and none of them will admit that they even KNOW the governor...much less doing any business with them. Makes you wonder don't it. How can you be a Senator for that state and not have any dealings with the Governor? Humm..... |
| "A word to the wise isn't necessary. It's the stupid ones who need all the advice." Bill Cosby This is so Funny & obviously written by a Former Soldier---- New Direction for any war: Send Service Vets over 60! I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35. For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier 'My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry' We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some a$$hole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while. An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the heck. Besides, like I said, 'I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-dog. If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone out run a bullet. An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reason s to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them. If nothing else, put us on border patrol...we will have it secured the first night! |
| I am two months shy of my 60th birthday and as this milestone barrels down upon me like a runaway freight train I find myself looking back and evaluating all those years I have trod upon life's stage. It seems like only yesterday that I was this wide-eyed, optimistic kid eager to charge into adulthood and slay dragons. I was bursting to get on with it...to take on life and put upon it my own stamp. Now I find myself slumped in a chair, in front of a computer and wondering: "What the hell happened?" Where did the time go? It seems to me that as soon as I figured out one thing, three others popped up to leave me totally confused. The only true knowledge that I have gleaned over the past 59 years is the fact that....I still don't know shit. Now that's hardly fair is it. I really thought I would be at a certain level by the time I reached this age, but I'm not. Instead, I find myself following the very same path my father struggled down. On the bright side of that, I have even more respect for the man than I already had and I didn't think that possible. A lot of this was brought home to me this past week as I sat and watched my son during his wedding reception. I realized that now was his time and he was well on his way to forging his own path through life. I feel confident that his path will take him further up the Mountain than mine did for me and that is a good thing. I guess that I thought...all those years ago...that by this time of my life the battles would be behind me and I could rest. I was wrong. All I can do is what I have always done...continue to meet each battle, each challenge, head on...no rest stops... I don't mind walking this path so much, I just wish it was a little smoother in spots. I'm too old for this shit. LOL! |
| I am home again from the latest most exelant adventure. I arrived home at two thirty this morning and was met at the train station by my sweetheart. I must tell you, I have seen movie stars and runway models, I have seen home-coming queens and bathing beauties on the beaches, but I have never seen anyone more beautiful than the woman I love,standing in thirty-degree cold in the wee hours of the morning, waiting for me, with a smile on her face and her arms open in welcome. As for the first time experience of riding a train....It was nice. All in all I had a very pleasant time and I would recommend it for anyone who wants a different travel experience. My only suggestion to you would be....bring a comfortable pillow, that makes all the difference in the world. I am even unable to rant about poor service or surly attendants, or shoddy accomodations...nothing. Well there was the issue of getting lost on the train on the trip down to Texas. I am still trying to figure out how one can get lost when you can only go up or down, forward or backward, but I managed it. Luckily there was this helpful attendant who guided me back to my car and my seat with very little effort. The wedding and the reception went off without a hitch and no unexpected "dramas" which often occur at these things. It was at the reception that I was most effected though. Patrick and Sally had reserved a dining room at the very posh Black Lab Pub down in the Richmond and Montrose area of Houston. It is in the middle of what is known as the Museum district, near both Rice University and St. Johns University....what I have always called "Egghead Row." I guess I should have expected this since they both work for the Museum of Natural History and Sally is pursuing a Law degree at St. Johns. I also should have expected that of the fifty or so guests at the party, roughly ;;;;;85% were of the Egghead variety; Professors, Department Heads, Professionals...that sort of thing. That wasn't what effected me the most though. What really floored me was sitting at my table and quietly watching my son mingle comfortably with all these people. I watched as he moved from one table to the other, laughing, talking, sharing insights. He seemed not only comfortable, but actually in his element. Four years ago he was so painfully shy that he rarely spoke in a crowd and never made eye contact with people outside his immediate family. He has blossomed and grown beyond my wildest dreams and I truly believe it is solely because of the love and the guidance shown by his new wife, Sally. She has been a treasure. I knew I was in for a special evening when, as soon as I walked through the door of the Pub, he rushed to meet me, shook my hand then gave me one of his big old bear hugs, then gently took me by the arm and guided me around the room to each table and introduced me to each of the other guests. I was so proud of him, I don't think I stopped smiling all night. Of course the room was just chock full of Left-wing, Liberal, nutcases, but in deference to Pat and Sally, I tried to steer away from crossing any political swords with them....well there was one or two who tried to engage me, but I gave them only gentle slaps and sent them scurrying back to their respective tables...I was on my very best behaviour, after all. That was Saturday night and I got up Sunday morning and was driven to Longview, Texas by my son-in-law, Jason so I could catch my return train. Longview is about a four and a half hour drive from Houston and we made it in plenty of time. I caught the 6:15 train from there and arrived home at 2:30 this morning...I shall leave for work in about an hour and a half. I am thinking now that it will probably take me a week or two just to catch up on my sleep. All in all....a wonderful adventure and one that could have only been made better had I been accompanied by Mel. We seriously intend on making the trip again, or one similar on a train, in the near future. Who knows, maybe to meet up with some of you guys....now that would be a real ADVENTURE. |
| Today it was reported that a seven year old boy pulled a knife on a six-year old and demanded his money while at school. At this same school last year a fifteen year old boy was charged with murder of a fellow student. Silent night, holy night, all is calm. All is quiet..... Today the news reported that a man robbed a convenience store by holding a female customer at knife point and demanding the clerk give him all the money in the register. After his capture, he insisted that he HAD to rob the place because his wife just had a baby. God rest you merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day.... Yesterday it was reported that a teenager, angry that he was not going to get a specific gift for Christmas, picked up a four foot Christmas tree and threw it at his father. When he missed the target, he then picked up the steel stand and attacked his dad. Away in a manger, No crib for his bed, The little Lord Jesus Laid down his sweet head..... During commercial breaks I was bombarded by ads to “Buy Now” “Half Price Sale”, “Buy one-get-one Free!” We just don’t get it do we folks. Christmas has ceased to have anything to do celebrating the birth of Jesus. In truth, it hasn’t been that for years but nowadays there is no pretence of anything religious. Instead it is almost an unspoken command that if we spend enough, if we go into enough debt, somehow everything will be okay with our country. Yesterday, as I stood at my door, a young couple were making their way out when the woman stopped dead in her tracks and started to scream at the top of her lungs....”Goddamn you, you bastard! Just ask your parents for more money so we can give the kids better gifts! FUCK YOU!!!” Near the end of my shift, one woman jostled another one with her shopping cart....an argument ensued. Within seconds the argument escalated into a full blown fist-fight which continued out the door and into the parking lot, where the police showed up and arrested both women. Is this the spirit of Christmas? Is this how the people in this country celebrate the birth of Christ? This rabid pursuit of commercialism sickens me and I see what is happening today as further evidence of the social rot that is eating the heart out of this great nation. Merry Christmas. A short note to the fifteen or twenty so writers whose blog I always read and comment to.....Forgive me for missing yesterday, I was just unable to sit at the computer and read your wonderful blogs. I will try to get around to a few today, but I imagine it will be after my return from Texas before I finally catch up with all of you. Just remember, I believe you are the best of the best on this site and if I am not around for a few days, it doesn’t mean I am not still a fan...I am and always will be. |
| I'm going home to Texas. Yes, my friends, after over a year here in the state of Misery I have finally got the chance to return to God's Country. Thursday morning I shall board a train bound for Longview, Texas where my son-in-law will meet me. We will then drive five hours to Houston. The blessed event which affords me the opportunity to flee Southward is the upcoming wedding of my son, Patrick. I am scheduled to return here on Sunday and my son-in-law already has four very large friends lined up in the likely case they are needed to THROW me back onto that damn train. I am looking forward to being back in Texas of course and I plan on making a stop in Livingston on my way to Houston so that I can visit all my friends at my old store. In truth the only thing that would make this trip any better would be if Mel could go with me. Unfortunately, she has to remain behind and take care of her sister who is undergoing surgery. Between the sister and her mother, Mel will have her hands full while I am off enjoying the sunshine. Of course I have a suspicion that another reason she is not going with me is that she knows that with her here, I am guaranteed to come back. Damn her, she knows she is the only person who could drag me back here in the Winter! Smart woman. So there you have it....ROAD TRIP! And alone too....you don't think I could get into any trouble do ya? Naaaaa! Thursday morning I shall stand on the platform in the train station and I shall yell out to all those standing around me those famous words of Davy Crockett when he left Washington after losing an election to Congress...... "You can all go to Hell; I'm going to TEXAS!" |
| It is done. I have made it through my tenth Black Friday. As some of you might know, if you caught the news tonight, living through Black Friday is something not all Wal-Mart employees managed to do this year. In a Wal-Mart in Long Island, New York an employee was trampled to death by a mob of shoppers who actually tore the doors off the hinges as they forced their way into the store. The man was trampled to death. Think about that a minute....to end one's life under the feet of a mindless mob of one's fellow citizens made crazy for the chance to purchase a big screen TV at a discount....How sad is that? People love to make jokes about Wal-Mart employees in general and the People Greeters in particular, but all of us...the greeters....know that what happened today in New York is a fate we all face, especally on Black Friday. Every year an employee, usually a greeter, gets trampled, this is the first time one died as a result of that. It usually happens to a greeter because let's face it, we are the closest to the door when the madness begins. We are standing there with nothing between us and the idiots but air....I'm just surprised more haven't died. A few years ago, in my old store in Texas, we had an employee almost suffer the same fate. She had been told to cut the wrappings off a pallet of DVD players we had on sale for some ridiculous low price. As soon as she cut the plastic wrap off the stack of machines a mob of shoppers rushed the pallet, grabbing the DVD players and fighting with each other to get them. She was knocked down and was being stomped on when another employee, a big guy, waded into the crowd throwing people left and right. When he got to the lady, he reached down and pulled her to her feet and then had to literally FIGHT his way clear to take her to safety. These were just everyday people; people we saw every day....our neighbors...they would have killed her had her fellow employee had not seen her fall and come to her aid. What does this say about Americans? Have we degenerated to a level where human life means less than a flat screen TV? I am sure Leno and Letterman will have some really funny jokes about what happened in New York today but when you laugh at those jokes just remember....what does it say about us that we are capable of killing over a bargain? As for my own Black Friday.....it was all good. Yes it was a mad house and there was pushing and shoving...as usual. The thing is every person I dealt with today was more or less pleasant. I usually get called a SOB at least a half-dozen times on Black Friday and have even been spit at....didn't happen today. All in all...not a bad day. Of course I am totally wasted...worn out, and wasn't sure I could make it until my shift was done...but I did. So tomorrow's another day and the beat goes on. People will still be gripped with a buying frenzy. The craziness will continue to build until Christmas day.....then....after about a month's rest...they will start it all over again for the next year. What does that say about us? |
| Today is Thanksgiving Day and I am sure that most of you are, by now, surrounded by family and well into the holiday spirit...not to mention the turkey. That's a good thing. Today is a quiet day around Almosta Ranch. Mel and I are going to spend a peaceful day together, with Mel's sister and her Mom coming over later for a small turkey dinner; nothing compared to the big feasts of the past, mind you. And that's a good thing too. Tomorrow I shall throw myself once again into the Retail Hell knows as Black Friday at Wal-Mart and I will be at my post long before daylight to await the hordes that will over-run us.....that's tomorrow...today is our day. A quiet day. Today I am thankful for this time of peaceful rest with my wife. I am thankful for my friends here on WDC. I am thankful for pumpkin pie. Tomorrow will take care of itself. You guys have a wonderful Thanksgiving and just know that Mel and I love you all and hope all your holidays are peaceful and calm....God Bless you. |
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Sad to see you go, but glad to have kept up with you via OS. 
