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Ramblings about the world and myself |
I have never really been able to write every day. I probably won't be able to do it now. I would like to write on a more regular basis. This blog is an attempt to develop a more regular writing habit. I can't guarantee an entry every day.
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| 1Blogging Circle of Friends prompt: It's been 20 years since 9/11 . Do you feel the battle against terrorism is better off or is it worse? Do you think we've got a handle on far-right extremism or are we in over our heads? 20 years ago today we were attacked in the worst act of war by a terrorist organization on our own soil. Since then many new security measures have been implemented. We also have military drones that can reach out and attack terrorists where they live and congregate. These things make it much harder for foreign terrorists to attack us here at home and at our embassies and other places. Though effective,drones have their disadvantages. The risk of civilian casualties is high. There is also the problem of faulty intelligence causing innocent people to be targeted. I believe that extremism is a serious danger. The prompt asks about far right extremism. The far right is attracting more attention right now. Far right extremists are getting bolder. There is a history of far left extremism in this country as well. There is always a chance that they could become more active. Some examples of far left extremism include The Weather Underground  in the US, and the Red Army Faction , or Baader-Meinhoff Gang, in Europe. These groups were most active during the early 1970s.Though I am personally more liberal than conservative, I see danger from both extremes. I find it interesting that the Weather Channel gave one of its shows the same name as a terrorist organization. Was it to make a statement, or did they just not realize it? ---------------------- I wrote a short dystopic piece a while back about what might happen if right-wing militant groups got out of control. Somebody got offended within 15 minutes. I ended up making it private in order to keep from causing arguments. If anyone wants to read it, let me know in a comment here, or email me. I will give you the passkey. It really isn't All that controversial.
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| I saw something on CBS Mornings and on the local news this morning that together really burned my hide. According to CBS Mornings, there was a disturbing statistic. There were 232,000 new pediatric Covid-19 cases during the past week. In an interview on News Channel 11, in Johnson City TN, a woman was complaining about mask mandates in schools. She said something along the lines of “We just want to get back to normal.” I thought “Honey, what the hell is wrong with you?” I’m sorry to break it to all you people. This ain’t normal. People like that who act like it’s normal are exactly the ones who are keeping things from getting back to normal. If everybody did what they should, I believe that we would all be much closer to normal than we are now. I have a stake in the masks in schools debate. Several schools in Northeast Tennessee have mask mandates. Unfortunately our wonderful Governor Bill Lee, in his infinite wisdom, signed an executive order requiring mask mandates in Tennessee schools to have an “opt-out” option. This allows people like our “normal” friend to allow their children to go to school maskless. It must be remembered that this is the same Governor that declared Covid-19 a “controlled public health issue” a couple of months ago. My son has two stepdaughters. They are 8 and 11 years old. They are our granddaughters in every way. Justin and Maggie are meticulous about doing the right thing about Covid. They both still work from home and have groceries delivered. They are both vaccinated. In spite of their parent's best efforts, both children are in isolation because of positive Covid tests. Who knows? Maybe they would have caught it anyway without the "opt-out". I can't help but believe that they would have stood a better chance of avoiding it if all students were masked. They aren’t seriously ill, thank the Lord. Still, we have to worry about Multisystem inflammatory syndrome now. I pray that enough people will do the right things going forward so that we can finally get to a real normal. |
| "Blogging Circle of Friends " [E] Prompt: Write about your favorite pet. If you don't have a favorite pet write about an unusual pet someone you know has. I have had quite a few pets that I love very much, God rest their souls. I am petless right now. It would be hard to pick a favorite. For this prompt, I will write about two canine friends. Brothers really. Lonnie (Lonzo) and Milburn were two dogs I had back in my wilder days. I named them after two brothers who lived near me. I partied hard in those days. I didn't have a car at the time, so I hitchhiked nearly everywhere I went. When I left the house, the critters would follow me. I worried that they would follow me till I got a ride, but not find their way home. I tried every way to run the stubborn critters back to the house. I finally gave up. It didn't take long for me to realize that I didn't need to worry. I could walk for miles before I got a ride. When I got home, the beasts always were waiting for me. I would sometimes be off partying for days. The faithful ones welcomed my bedraggled hide home every time. Don't worry. I always left them plenty of food and water. Lonzo liked to sing. Try to imagine a bunch of people in various states of mind singing with a hairy dog. "Show me the way to go home" "Aawoo woo woowoooo" "I'm tired and I want to go to bed" "Aaawwooo woo Woooo Wooooo!" "I had a little drink about an hour ago" Aaawwooo woowoo" "And it went right to my head"* "Aawoo wooo woooo woo!" And so on. Unfortunately Lonzo got poisoned. I found him in the yard one day, too late to help him. I don't know if somebody had something against me and took it out on Lonzo, or if it was random. Milburn lived quite a while longer. He eventually went nearly blind. He almost ran off of a cliff once. It scared me very badly. During the Blizzard of 1993, he blindly ran off a bank into over six feet of snow. I had to slide down the bank into snow over my head to get the poor critter out. I ran into some hard times and had to leave Milburn in the care of some friends. I fortunately picked good people. They took good care of my old friend until his dying day. He had the habit of running his head under my arm. I still remember him doing that the day I had to leave him. It hurt. It still does. *I wrote this song in just because I can't remember any specific examples. He would do it to any song. |
| I wrote this while I was working on my story "Ailurophobia" . It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, so I didn't want to make it an item in my portfolio. I kind of like it, so I'm putting it here. While doing research for my short story 'Ailurophobia', I stumbled upon something dangerous. I now know the real truth about cats. Unfortunately, the cats know that I know. In search of a good story, I found myself in extreme danger. Because she lives with me, my wife Lesia is in danger too. The cats have formed a conspiracy to make sure that what I know never gets out. I first noticed that our own cats won’t let me out of their sight. They follow my every step, with malignant stares. Then strange cats began to gather outside. There are always always at least three strange cats at each door. The guard changes about every four hours or so. They want to be sure that the guards are alert. More and more cats are gathering in the yard. There are fifty or sixty out there right now. When I went to the mailbox, they kept pushing closer to my legs, and trying to get their claws in me. I know that as soon as they have gathered enough troops, they will storm the house. I don’t expect to last more than a few days. In case we don’t make it, I have put my story and research notes in a secure location, with instructions to publish my report. I hope that this report is taken seriously. If not, it could mean the extinction of humanity itself. Update: The siege continues. The ravenous beasts may be a divinely evolved version of us. They would want us to think so. I tend to think that they are an evolved version of something else. They had me recruited until I started looking into the issue. Like Philip K. Dick, I hit too close to reality. The numbers of the critters have increased to a few hundred, and continues to grow. It looks like a sea of beast backs extending from the edge of the porch to the road. Our neighbor from across the road braved this outfit to check on us. I asked her to call Animal Control, as we have no contact with the outside world (yes, I am online. I never said that this would be logical). She agreed. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it home. A wave of feline fIesh overtook her before she reached the road. I saw one of the enslaved dogs, a Great Dane, drag her remains into the garage under the apartment next door. I haven’t seen the neighbor from the apartment. His car hasn’t moved in days. I fear the worst. This collection of critters seems to be led by an especially large one that I suspect may have some lynx in his lineage. We're hanging on to the last of the hope that we can manage to muster. |
| This entry started with a comment on Robert Waltz's blog entry "By Any Other Name" . I realized that if I worked at it a little, it would make a reasonable answer to the prompt. Prompt May 23 Write about nicknames. What nicknames do you have for people in your life? What nicknames do others use to refer to you? Do any of these names have an interesting story for how they came to be? The trouble with nicknames, as I see it, is that they get hung on people without them having any say in it. More often than not, the nickname is something embarrassing, or at least, unflattering, for want of a better word. I have known a 'Blowfly' and a 'Rat', a ‘Moose’ a ‘Mouse', a 'Tad' (Moose's brother - that family is full of nicknames) and a 'Speck’. Keeblers and Pooh Bears and Boarcats, oh my! I helped hang the name 'Pud Powell' on a friend. I didn't make it up. That dubious honor goes to Speck. I did help spread it. I regret that very much. I was young and didn't think about the consequences. The poor dude still has to put up with it years later. Around the same time, this same group of friends hung the name 'Tred' on me. I usually go by my middle name Fred. 'Tred' doesn't sound too bad unless you're familiar with the slang of Cove Creek TN. Trust me, it ain't nice. I will admit that it's funny. It was fair. I should be able to take it if I dish it out. Fortunately most people seem to have forgotten about that. There is a chance that the wrong person might see this and revive the ungodly name. Since I have told about the unfortunate Mr. Powell, it is only fair that I own the terrible Tred. Occasionally a nickname is something that the person likes. Speck is known far and wide. Very few call him Richard. One of my best friends went by the nickname Bigfoot.. He's deceased now. At the bottom of his headstone it says "They Call me Bigfoot". Rest in peace, old friend. Note (Nov 12 2022): Unfortunately I recently learned that Junior Powell (that's what he really wanted to be called) has passed on. Moose and Pooh Bear also passed on before that. May they all rest in peace. Note: A conversation with Tad that I had tonight made me realize that I needed to revise this entry. |
| This story is based on a tale from Shell Creek Tennessee, where I was raised. It is about Uncle Virgil, a locally famous character who lived there. I changed his name to protect the guilty. I didn’t create the story. It is from the oral tradition. This is my version of it. I really don’t know if there is any truth to it. Uncle Virgil really did live on Shell Creek. Uncle Virgil was a smart man. He was known as a talented weather witch. Weather witches aren’t witches in the sense of someone who uses magic. Weather witches can forecast the weather by reading the signs. For example, if the woolly worms are more black than brown, there will be a lot of snow during the coming winter. If the yellow jackets nest in the ground and not in the trees, look for a very cold winter. Uncle Virgil was respected for his weather skills. He was looked down on for his love of moonshine. Uncle Virgil took his white liquor seriously. He loved it more than he loved himself. He was never without a quart. When he had a quart, he had his nose in the jar. Sometimes he would lay drunk for a week or longer. One Saturday Uncle Virgil was up in the New Ground drinking. He didn’t want to go home and listen to his wife. She nagged him unmercifully when he was drunk. Since he was drunk most of the time, nagging was like a full time job for her. Uncle Virgil got an early start that day. Along about four o’clock he finished off his first quart and opened the second one. He found a comfortable spot to lay down on a flat rock behind a brush pile. He took a couple more good slugs and passed out. Three of the local teenagers were walking around through the woods and fields. They came upon Virgil. These three had a vicious sense of humor. It wasn’t a good thing for them to find you passed out. George, the ringleader, suggested that they have some fun out of old Uncle Virgil. They rearranged the dry brush around Virgil in a big circle and lit it on fire. It wasn’t close enough to him to burn him. They weren’t that mean. It was close enough for him to feel the heat, and for the smoke to get in his eyes and lungs. The fire was making Virgil uncomfortable enough that he woke up. He raised up coughing and gagging. “What in God's green Earth is going on?" He asked. He wiped the tears from the smoke out of his eyes and got a look at the flames. Understanding crept into his soul. “Oh.” He said. “Dead and in Hell. Just as I expected!” |
| Covid-19 "It takes no prisoners, it has no heart, and it will come for you... if you deny it, it will come for you." Joe Anderson Mayor of the City of Liverpool England United Kingdom https://www.wjhl.com/news/fighting-skepticism-of-pandemics-severity-regional-lea... The link above is to an article about scepticism about Covid-19 in the Tri-Cities TN/VA region where I live. We went for the first two or three months here in Carter County Tennessee with daily new confirmed cases under ten. I hoped and prayed that we would stay that way. When I would go grocery shopping, I would see many people without masks in spite of mask mandates. I knew that it was only a matter of time. Now there are thousands of cases in the three cities and surrounding counties. The positivity rate is over 30%, which is the highest in the state and one of the highest in the country. Johnson City Tennessee is number 7 on a New York Times list of places where new cases are growing the fastest. A friend who I've known since childhood calls me occasionally. He kept saying "I don't know about this pandemic. I can't see that it's all that bad." He kept that up till his sister, her husband and several of their grandchildren tested positive. He changed his tune quickly after that. One of our neighbors lost his mother to an overdose recently. He found her in the apartment. I had to go with him to check if she was dead. He's been coming over a good bit. I think he needs somebody to talk to. I was fine with that until he started talking about how he didn't believe that the virus is all that dangerous, and he isn't worried about masks or keeping distance. I went off on him till he left. Now I'm afraid to let him in the house. My wife has COPD. I have high blood pressure. This thing could kill both of us in a hurry. I am all for personal freedom to do what you want as long as you don't hurt anybody else. Go right on and drink or smoke or anything else you want. I don't care as long as you don't endanger me or the people I love. This disease is different. If you don't wear a mask or congregate in groups without keeping distance, you are putting my loved ones' lives at risk. It doesn't matter if you aren't doing what you are supposed to in other places. If you act irresponsibly anywhere you help the spread. I am sick and tired of worrying about people I love just because people do not want to believe the truth and act like decent responsible human beings. |
| I think about this every year on Thanksgiving. Life is hard. This year has been harder than most. It is very easy to get caught up in the hardships, and forget, or take for granted, all the good things that the Good Lord blesses us with. As the year drags on, I become more beaten down by life, and more cynical. I get more ill natured and grouchy. Unfortunately my poor wife has to put up with my sorry sour attitude. Thanksgiving comes near the end of the year after I have built up months of anger and frustration. It forces me to look for and remember all that I have to be grateful for. Thanksgiving serves as a mental and emotional reset. It enables me to appreciate all the good things in life again, after the distraction of all the negativity of the preceding year. Thanksgiving comes at a good time of the year. It comes after the I have accumulated a year's worth of negativity. It comes just before all the other Winter holidays. It allows me to get my head right in order to properly appreciate Christmas and the rest of the holiday season. If it weren't for Thanksgiving, I would get very little out of Christmas. I would enter the New Year already carrying a year's worth of accumulated anger and frustration. I am very thankful for Thanksgiving. |
| “All the same old cliches, "Is that a woman or a man?”" Bob Seger “He’s got a beard, Marge!” George Carlin Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young: Almost Cut My Hair The Cowsills: Hair Five Man Electrical Band: Signs When my sons were young teenagers, I noticed that their hair was inching its way down over their collars. As I considered myself a proactive, hands on parent, and having some experience in the subject, I realized that it was time to have a talk with them. I would never be such a hypocrite as to forbid my boys from growing their hair out. I did think it necessary to explain to them about what they were letting themselves in for. I told them that when a man wears his hair long, he is making a statement, whether or not he means to. Any man who chooses to do this risks negative assumptions, judgement and treatment. Employers, police and regular people all look at him differently. Both of my sons decided to grow their hair. Adam, my oldest son, has his head shaved on both sides with a long Mohawk hanging like a ponytail almost to his belt. Justin, my younger son, has his hair hanging well past his collar, with a set of sideburns and muttonchops that would do General Burnside himself proud. My seventh grade picture shows a short haired nerdy looking kid with horn rimmed glasses. I got a look at that picture, and knew that wasn’t who I wanted to be. I got a cooler pair of glasses and started to grow my hair. Now I proudly wear my hair over my shoulders and my full beard hangs to the fourth button on my shirt. My hair and beard have caused me some trouble over the years. In school, one of the teachers used to call me “Miss Thomas”. He was mostly alright, so I think he was joking. After I became an adult, I had some trouble from the police. Once I was standing at a bus stop in front of a little bar. All of a sudden, I was surrounded by four cops. One of them asked if I was causing trouble in the bar. They kept me from catching the bus, which put me behind on what I needed to do that day. I remember people staring at me from the bus. It was embarrassing. Finally the bartender stuck his head out of the door and yelled “He’s in here!”. Of course, the police knew that it had to be the long haired hippie causing trouble. I think that the one thing that bothered me the most was when my aunt asked me to cut my hair before going to my mother’s funeral. I didn’t do it. It would have been hypocritical. My mother didn’t mind my hair when she was alive. I am sure that didn’t change. My hair and beard are very much a part of my identity. I plan to proudly wear it to my grave unless it falls out. |
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