%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  My second blog. What you get are pieces of me; my humor, my memories: be welcome. |
|
MY BOOK! http://www.lulu.com/davidmac73 This picture was in the header of my first blog and I wanted to bring it back. Me and my sweetie on our wedding day....it is my favorite picture. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This is my second Blog on WDC. The first Blog, Random Thoughts, is finished and done and I loved almost every minute I spent doing it. This blog will be somewhat different than the first because I want to use this space for my humor and my memories. The humor may sometimes fall flat and the memories may, at times be boring, but isn't that the way it is with life. Please join me here and partake in these pieces of me and if sometimes you find the jokes unfunny or the memories dull, then please come back another day and maybe you will find something to your liking. After all, like my daddy always said: "Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you." Thank you, vivacious   for this neat new logo for my blog! Yup, this about says it all, I think!** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I thought that Independence Day was the appropriate day to put this great new siggy in my blog....Thank you sultry ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please check out Scarlett's Newsletter for Bloggers: The Blogville News
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Thank you, Startiara  for this lovely Siggy!! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| My fellow Blogvillians (yup, that's a word now), I come before you today to officially announce my candidacy for the office of President of the United States. Now I am aware that many of you may have already heard rumor that I may throw my hat in the ring by reading the popular blog of Anyea . I am the candidate of choice of the Bullfrog party. For those of you unfamiliar with this brand new political party, the Bullfrogs are neither democrat, or republicans, Libertarians or Socialist. No sir, we hold to absolutely NO political ideology. What we are is Flexible....we have the ability to JUMP either to the Left or the Right at a moment's notice. Bullfrogs believe that the majority rules (now that's new), and depending on what the majority of the people want....that's what we stand for! As my party's first candidate, I am here to tell you a little about who I am, what my credentials are, and what I will do if elected. First of all I must apologize as I have had to cobble together this first speech myself. I received word from my most able Campaign manager, Anyea that my dang speech writer had quit to take a better paying job with the Buzzard Neck Sanitation department as a garbage truck driver. She also let me know that my Social Secretary had run off with one of my campaign fund raisers who, sadly FORGOT to make a deposit of funds before they took off for some unnamed beach on the Mexican Coast. So, you see, I am left to muddle along on my own but I am accepting applications to fill these vacant spots in my organization.Now where was I? Oh yeah.....who am I? Well I am a blogger, for God's sake, who did ya think I was? Geeze, keep up people! I was born and raised in the great state of Texas (gentlemen, remove your hats), and I have worked in many, many widely diverse fields of endeavor. No matter what job I have undertaken in the past, I always enjoyed a meteoric rise to mediocrity before moving on to a new experience! Now as to what experience I bring to the table when it comes to running the country.....NONE! Dang, haven't you been listening? No, and I am proud of the fact that I have absolutely no experience in being a politician. In fact, no Bullfrog will ever admit to having any experience in government...we don't need more politicians, we need people who are willing to work for a living. Over the coming months I will be unveiling my different plans, both domestic and foreign. For now I can tell you that the first thing I would do, if elected would be to declare Labor Day a national holiday for every working man and woman, EXCEPT those in management. I would decree that all working folks get the weekend off and their place be taken by executives and middle management geeks from all the home offices of each company! Bout time those turds got their hands dirty! I can also tell you that one of the first new bureaucracies I will form is the Department of Blame. This department will be responsible for taking the blame for every single thing that ever goes wrong in any Americans life. We already know that no one is to blame for anything, we just don't have anyone or anything to take the blame....I will change that. Don't worry, the Department of Blame will not be a huge, money-sucking, monster complete with jungles of red-tape. No, this department will consist of only one worker/supervisor/director......ccstring. He will officially take the blame for every damn thing that happens to each and every American! Can you imagine the wonderful freedom this will afford each of you? Okay, that's it for today. In the days and weeks that follow I will try to unveil my other programs and answer any of your questions that you may have.   |
| Today I need to spend some time tidying up around this place. My personal Blogville storefront has become rather littered with snippets of information and news that I should have long since cleared away by sharing them with you, the reader. I can't help it, I tend to put things off...like spring cleaning. You see I try not to do many Blogville centered blogs anymore cause it's an easy way to get sucked into drama. We have enough experts in that field so I usually try to just do my entries about Life and stuff. Anyway, I figured that today I would sweep off the front walk and maybe even the entry-way to my little cyber domicile. Let me start by giving a big ole public THANK YOU to Deelyte- Chillin' who presented me with a very beautiful Merit Badge last week. Thanks to this sweet lady's generosity, I have drawn one badge closer to the Great Merit Badge Collector, Nada . Also, a few weeks ago, before we left on vacation, I received a very nice surprise in my email; gypsy4evermore had written to me. I am sure there are still quite a few people out there who remember Gypsy and like me, you have been missing her something terrible. Well stop worrying, Bonnie is doing okay, actually better than okay, bordering on great. She has been traveling and just living life to it's fullest which is what every kid her age should try to do. She mentioned Spain as one of the places she has visited since last we spoke. She asked me to convey to all of you, her friends, that she misses you terribly and loves you all to death and that sometime, soon, she will try to get out of the "little name league" and join us here in Blogville once again. She ended her email by telling me she was about to head out for a SKYDIVING adventure!! Ah, to be young again! I was also fortunate enough to receive an email from another old timer here in Blogville, one I have missed reading and have missed his comments....pwilli contacted me. He just wanted to touch base and he too, sends his love to all of his old friends here. He also gave me a contact number which I plan on using today...now that things have more or less settled down from the vacation. I will try to have more news of Patrick within the next few days.I would also just like to send another THANK YOU to that little sweetie, Anyea . Some of you might remember my blog yesterday where, at the end, I mentioned very tongue-in-cheek, that I was going to run for President. Well Anyea sent me the cutest email with this dang slogan and graphic on it that I am unable to reproduce here...mainly cause I am a dufus. The thing was made using a ton of emoticons and it was really great. I can't believe she went to so much trouble. Thanks hon! All this stuff are things I have been meaning to share with you all, but I just kept procrastinating....so now you get it all at once. Oh before I go...please stop by The Literary Penguin 's blog and check out his quasi-contest called "Dinner with the Penguin". It looks like a lot of fun and I have to try and come up with an entry while I am off the next two days.Okay...that's it...the place looks pretty clean now, I think I will spend the rest of the day reading some you who really DO write great blogs. May you be in heaven a week before the Devil realizes you're dead! |
| Tuesday was my first day back at work after a wonderful ten day vacation and I gotta tell you, as much as I love my job and the people I work with...Tuesday was the pits. Of course it didn't help that I was enjoying the bright sun beaming down on me as I sat in a boat in the middle of the Current River. I was catching big ole catfish as I floated down the river....spotted the Swedish Bikini Volleyball team frolicking on a sandbar.... Dean Koontz was in the back of the boat pestering me for tips to make his books better.....THEN THE DAMN ALARM CLOCK STARTED RINGING!! Four-thirty in the damn morning and I lay there with my eyes squeezed shut, trying to mentally silence the clock-racket and at the same time, get back into that wonderful dream. Finally Mel elbowed me in the ribs and threatened to break a major bone if I didn't get up and shut that damn clock off. I tell you, the mere act of dragging my arse out of bed, getting dressed and heading out the door was almost more than my body and spirit could handle. I find it hard to express the particular feeling of returning to work after ten days off...words fail me. I think the closest I could come to what it felt like is....Think about having a enema of hot salt water the same day you find out you have inflamed hemorrhoids...yeah, that's about right...that describes the feeling pretty closely I think. To be honest though, it was kind of nice to get to see my friends at work again. One of the first people I ran into when I walked in the door of Wal-Mart was the lady who had been pulled off the cashier line, and tasked with the job of working the door while I was on vacation. "Thank God you are finally back!" She said as soon as she saw me. "You have no idea how tired I am of listening to customers complain because YOU were not at the door to greet them. Then I had to explain that you were on vacation." Now I have to admit...that was nice. Some of the customers actually noticed I was gone. Sure enough, I was welcomed back all during the day as my regular customers came into the store...it made the day pass rather quickly. The thing is, somehow, somewhere along the way, Society got all screwed up. This whole vacation-work thing is just backwards, you know. In a perfect world, we would all have three weeks a year WORK TIME intermixed into the rest of the year which would be taken up with VACATION TIME. Yup, elect me your President and I promise....Fifty Weeks of Vacation a Year!! Don't worry, I plan on paying for it by taxing non-smokers. Hey, what's good for the goose is good for the gander, as the old saying goes!  |
| First off I would like to apologize for all those who stumbled in here and read yesterday's blog entry; I don't normally delve into things of such a extreme personal nature in this format. I also want to thank those of you who were thoughtful enough to leave a comment; your words meant a lot to me and, in fact has helped me along in the decision making process. It was pointed out to me that I was being a bit cryptic yesterday and that was not my intention. Sometimes I just find it hard to put some things into plain, blunt, words, but I guess I really should give it a go; I owe you guys that much....and more, really. As most of you know, we just returned from vacation in Doniphan, Missouri. We went there to visit Mel's sister and mother, along with numerous cousins and the uncle I wrote about. Now here's the deal. Mel's mom is not doing real well and Mel's sister needs help with her. She wants Mel and I to come there to Doniphan to live. Well she has been really pushing for us to make the move and now Mel's cousins have joined the push...the pressure is intense. Mel really wants to be near her mom and the rest of the family, especially for what is sure to be her mom's last years. She and her sister get along really well and enjoy each other's company and she has missed that these past six years so that is another reason for her to want to make the move. On the other hand, it will mean she has to give up her job, move to a strange place and begin the search all over again for employment. Like she says: "I just don't know if I want to go through that again." The plus side for me is simply being able to do something that makes Mel happy. I will, in the end, do whatever I can to insure her happiness. The downside, for me is a little more complicated than it is for Mel. First of all I am not 100% that a transfer will be possible. Both store managers have to agree to it and my store manager was not happy when I mentioned that it was possible that I would be seeking a transfer. He flatly said: "I don't want you going anywhere." Now the OTHER store manager...in Poplar Bluff (thirty minutes from Doniphan) may or may not have an opening for a Greeter and if he does, he may not want to take my salary into his payroll. I have been with the company nine years and am fully vested. The man could hire two people off the street on what I make a week. I have not contacted this manager yet so I really don't know what his needs are or if he will be willing to pay my wage. Secondly, this move will mean I will be uprooting and moving from a place I have lived my entire life in. I know dang near everybody and they know me. Not only will I be moving from my hometown, but I will be leaving Texas. Now I have spent all my life in Livingston with the exception of a few years in the service and five or six years living in Houston, working. But, I have NEVER lived in any state except Texas....that's just scary to contemplate. Fifty-eight years is a long time to grow roots and it is scary in the extreme to think of severing those roots. Now for me, if the transfer is not possible, I will have to give my notice and leave Wal-Mart. Which means I will arrive in Missouri looking for work....that is another very, very, scary thing at my age. This is something that Mel and I have been hashing out, discussing, ever since we began the drive home the other day. The thing is, we are not arguing one side against the other, but we are merely trying to weigh all our options and look at all the scenarios. The bottom line is that if and when Mel decides what she wants to do....THAT is what I will move heaven and earth to do. All I really care about is her happiness anyway and if it means being a stranger in a strange land, so be it. Eventually we will decide and eventually we will make a choice and we will be happy with it no matter what we do....as long as we have each other. It is just that at this moment, it is worrisome to say the least. Now all this crap I have just told you led me to question whether or not I was a writer or a pretender...funny how that happened. You see in exploring different employment options, I considered trying to get a job with the small, local newspaper in Doniphan. Now that would really ease a lot of my fears about the big move...to be able to write and get paid for it! Well I got together a few examples of my essays to send to the editor of that paper as an example of my work along with a query as to the possibilities of employment. Before I could send it though I got cold feet...I doubted myself. I thought about how silly it might look to this professional for some yahoo to assume he could walk off the street and do a column or report local stories when he has no background in the Newspaper business, no college education...nothing. I did not send it. Instead I sent it to a friend of mine who is the publisher of a Medium market newspaper (about 50 times larger than the Doniphan paper) and I asked his opinion of the stories I was going to use as an example. I also asked his honest opinion as to whether or not I should even try this venue, given my lack of experience and education. Now Donnis is honest and very serious and he will give me the unvarnished truth no matter how much it might hurt...we have always done that for one another. He is gone on vacation until Sept. 5th but will answer my query sometime after that. The thing is, even sending it to him...a man I have known for thirty years or more, I felt really inadequate, like a pretender. Even though Donnis has always been in the newspaper business, I have never asked him to read my stuff nor have I ever tried to get a job with his paper. There are two reasons I never did this. First I could not bring myself to assume on our friendship and secondly, I have never felt worthy to ask for that kind of position. So you see, when push comes to shove, I doubt myself as a writer. I thought about it yesterday as I wrote my blog.....am I a writer or am I pretender who hides behind this simple format because he hasn't the talent nor the drive to put his work before the public. So all of this is an explanation of what I wrote yesterday...see, what kind of crap I was trying to spare you from reading yesterday. Well, that's my story and that is what it's all about. Now the bottom line is, whatever will happen, will happen and we will make the best of it. We will live here or we will live there.....but we will live. We will live and we will love and at the end of the day, we will always have each other and the comfort of our love...so why do I even bother worrying? Thanks for letting me sound this stuff out....you can wake up now! DANG!  |
| Vacation is almost over, I go back to work tomorrow and sometime in the next month or so I have some monumental decisions to make, life changing decisions. Do I remain within my own, personal, comfort zone or do I step out onto a trail untraveled? Do I stay nestled here among the East Texas Pines where I know everyone and everyone knows me, or do I uproot myself and move into a place that is totally strange to me? I am about to be faced with radical change and I hate change, no matter how slight. The final question I must ponder: Am I really a writer or just a pretender? That question too, must be answered. |
| Forgive me for changing the tone of my "travelogue" today, but for my last entry on the trip, I would like to introduce you to a man I had the great good fortune to visit one last time. I met Beryl Duncan on our first trip to Missouri, not long after Mel and I were married and getting to visit this man one more time was one of the highlights of the trip for me. I hope you enjoy getting to know him as much as I have..thank you. Each and every country boasts a certain type of man who, by his very existence and the way he lives his life, comes to define that country and their values. I had the great pleasure to visit one such man while in Missouri. The man’s name is Beryl Duncan and he is my wife’s uncle, her mother’s brother. Beryl is 92 years old and lives alone in a small house across the road from the ranch his father started and until a few years ago, he ran himself. His youngest son now runs the ranch. Last Tuesday, we all loaded up at my sister-in-law’s house and drove out in two cars to pay our respects to a family patriarch. I was looking forward to this trip for many reasons; I loved visiting the ranch for it reminds me of my own childhood, but most of all I looked forward to once again visiting with Burl. I first met him about four years ago, the first time Mel talked me into this trip. At that time Beryl was a very active 88 year old who still cut his own fire wood and planted a garden every year. He lived alone, his wife having died years before, and was still very self-sufficient. It was on that first trip that I learned a little bit of Beryl's history and some of what made him such a special man. Burl Duncan was one of twelve children...seven girls and five boys born to John and Pearl Duncan. Growing up, Beryl and his brothers and sisters lived the normal life of children of the time, the early twentieth century, in rural America. As the children grew older, they either worked the farm and ranch, or as Mel’s mother chose, they left home and went off to school and pursued a life in far places. Beryl and two of his brothers stayed at home and happily worked the farm until that fateful day; Dec. 7, 1941. After that day the lives of the three boys were changed forever. Beryl, Bob, and Paul. Beryl and Bob enlisted in the Army and because Paul was the only remaining son (two had died as children) he was exempt from service and stayed home alone to care for the family farm. Bob found himself storming ashore on D-day and fought all the way to Germany, taking part in the Battle of the Bulge as part of Patton’s Third Army. Beryl was sent to the Pacific theatre and fought in IwoJima among other island battles. Finally, with the end of this great conflict, both brothers returned home to Doniphan. They quietly packed away their uniforms and medals and proceeded to melt back into society. They joined their other brother back on the farm and picked up their lives as if nothing had happened. Time, like the slow current of the Black river which runs near the farm, inevitably carried them along as it does all of us. Their father passed away and the boys ran the farm. They married and began to raise families. Then, after a time, Beryl bought out his brother’s interest in the old home place. Life was good for this quiet man. He was married and spent his days caring for the farm he loved so well. He and his wife had three children and he raised them all to work and love the land. This man, who had fought so many battles, had earned the peace he now lived in, but that peace was soon shattered. In the 60’s another war loomed on the horizon and soon engulfed another generation of young Americans into the meat grinder of armed conflict. This is when Gary, Beryl's oldest son came to his father and asked his blessings; Gary was determined to join the Army and do his duty, just as his father had done over twenty years before. Now under normal circumstance, Gary would not have been drafted. He had suffered polio as a small child, but he had recovered and overcome his physical problems, for the most part, though he remained small and somewhat weak in body. But Gary wanted to go, wanted to serve his country and he asked his father’s help in joining the Army. Beryl thought long and hard on this request, but finally he gave in and helped his son become a soldier. Today, if you happen to pay a visit to Burl Duncan in his small, neat home in which he resides all alone, one of the first things you will notice when you walk into his living room is a large framed picture hanging on one wall. It is a picture of Gary, in his uniform and surrounding that picture you will see the seven different medals he won in Vietnam, including the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. Gary died earning those last two medals. When I heard Beryl's story, I was touched to the depths of my heart. This strong, quiet man, who had given so much for his country and managed to survive one of the greatest conflicts of our history had, like so many thousands of others, returned home and silently went about living his life. He had wanted nothing more than to live in peace and enjoy his family, his farm. He ended up sacrificing his oldest son to yet another war. He is alone now. His wife has long since died, his youngest son has taken over the farm. His daughter comes by each day to check on him as does the other son, but basically he is living out his last years, teetering about an empty house...empty of everything except ghosts now. Beryl’s body is frail and weak, he walks only with the help of a walker. His short term memory is bad and his hearing is worse. But, the thing is, when I look at Beryl Duncan, I do not see these things. Instead, I see the inner-strength which still shines from his eyes. I see an indomitable spirit, held prisoner by an age ravaged body. I see everything that is strong and good about this country. Beryl Duncan is a part of that Great Generation who took on all comers, who endured the Great Depression, a World War and triumphed over both. He and the others simply endured everything which history could throw at them and continued to live their life, raise their families, and silently make this country strong. In a way this small, frail man reminds me of the mountains he lives among. Time and circumstance has worn him down, much like the wind and rain wear down the mountains, but what is left is still awe inspiring for those who take the time to look. What more could you expect from a simple man of the land? Where will we be, what will we do, when all such men are gone from this earth? I think we are smaller, and weaker for each one that passes. Thank you Beryl Duncan for all you did and all you gave for this country, and may you live out your life in the peace you so deserve. |
| "ROAD TRIP!" Remember when, as a teenager, this phrase always brought loads of excitement to your day? Ah on the road to adventure! Well about five a.m. tomorrow, me and Mel are going to hit the road for our own little adventure. It has just been too long since she and I have set out on one of these road trips, we are well and truly overdue some "us" time. We use to have really good road trips/adventures/battle royals and I look forward to this one being just as exciting. It is nice that, at this stage of my life, I can still look forward to hitting the road with my wife. It's her fault you know; she sees everything, each day, as an adventure and her point of view has rubbed off on me it would seem. Me and her....we are partners in every sense of the word, but on these trips we are more like Hope and Crosby in those old "Road" movies. I have no idea what will transpire during our outing, but I know one thing with certainty....We will spend most of our time laughing. I look forward to that more than anything else...I need to laugh and she always brings it out in me. So anyway my friends, come five a. m. we shall be "On the Road to Doniphan". I want to tell you guys how sorry I am for not visiting as many blogs as I usually visit, but we still have a ton of stuff to do and time is running short. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we travel and I look forward to having some great fodder for future blogs by the time we return. Message from Mel and me to all of you who read this: WE LOVE YOU GUYS! Take care and I will be seeing you sometime next week! |
| Well isn't this lovely! This week we were visited by Tropical Storm Aaron...the big wussy! I was all set for some relief from the heat via the rain that was sure to come from this storm because we are on the "dirty" side of it...you think that happened? Hell no! As I write this, we have received not so much as a damned SPRINKLE of rain! Of course the good folks in Houston...a mere 75miles from me...are getting hammered by the rain. In fact there are flash-flood warnings out for most of the counties south of us right now...go figure! So we missed a little mild relief from this Tropical Storm, well we still have Hurricane Dean out in the Caribbean. The thing is, Dean is serious and his timing sucks big weenies! I say that because it is due to be a real monster by the time it comes ashore...think Rita and Katrina...and it is quite possible that when it does come ashore, yours truly will be up in Missouri, trying like hell to get home! In fact, at this time, after watching the weather gurus all morning, I figure we might just make it home about the same time Dean arrives for his visit. My only hope is that it stays well South of us....LIKE MEXICO! Now normally...I mean before Mel came into my life....I would not worry that much about a damn hurricane. If I was out of town, I would merely hunker down and return well after the thing had passed us by. Not now though...no sireee. Now we have more responsibilities than some young couple with a houseful of children. WE GOT ANIMALS! House animals....Pasture animals....acres of fur! We have arranged for their care while we are away and that alone was a feat of some note. A friend of Mel's, for a nominal fee, has agreed to come by the house daily and feed the three dogs, four cats, two cockatiels, 15 Gerbils, 47 fish and anything else that shows up. The dogs and cats have access to the outside and are trained to relieve themselves there. We have someone else who will daily feed and care for the pasture animals...one horse, five goats and any deer, squirrel, coon, possum, or armadillo which happens to stop by the place for a bite to eat. The thing is, when you throw a Hurricane into the mix, all the planning goes out the window! If Dean is as big and mean as his sister from two years ago, Rita, then the pasture animals could be in jeopardy. The pens and barn could be damaged or lost altogether, trees could fall, or lightening strikes could harm any of them. If that wasn't bad enough, the animals at home will be in a panic due to our own neurotic black Lab, Mollie. Every time it even rains this dog goes into a full fledged panic attack. She is convinced the mean old Thunder Monster is going to tear break into the house and eat her for dinner. Each time it rains Mollie hides either under my desk, or beneath the covers of my bed and she shakes like a dang leaf until the storm passes. Now if Dean beats us here, I fear that there will be little left of the house after Mollie goes into panic mode. She will see that we are not there and she will chew her way into our bedroom to hide...she has tried this before when it rained while we were both at work. Of course the other two dogs will probably be infected by this fear and the mob scene will be truly ugly! So now I am going to have to stay glued to the weather channel right up until we leave on Sunday afternoon. If the storm speeds up, or if it turns more to the north, we may just have to cancel our trip. I hope to God we don't have to change our plans, it will just kill Mel. She hasn't seen her mother and sister in two years. Her son and daughter-in-law will be there and she hasn't seen them in almost three years. Hell her brother is coming in from Colorado and I HAVEN'T EVEN MET THE MAN YET! We have been married six years and in all that time she has not seen her brother....I can't even think about missing this trip! ********************************************************** On another subject...last night I finally saw "300" and I am glad now that I resisted the impulse to buy the DVD when it came out the other day; I watched it on Direct TV pay movies. It's not that it was a bad movie...it was okay, but it could have been so much better had they stuck more to history. One of the biggest problems I had with the movie, and really with all movies such as this, is the fact that they used such stylized fight scenes that the entire battle looked like some great choreographed dance number in a bloody, Broadway musical. Trust me when I tell you that fighting and killing a man with a blade, up close is a far cry from what you see on the screen. Problem number two: The whole inclusion of war elephants, battle rhinos (no such thing) and Calvary. Though the Persians had a sizable Calvary, it was not deployed at Thermopylae because of the limitations of the battlefield. Problem number three: There is little mention of any other units in that battle save the Spartans and the Persians. The Greek forces were drawn from 70 various City States and numbered about 7000 men. When it became clear to Leonidias that the Persians had surrounded them, he sent the bulk of the force away while he and his 300 Spartans stayed as a rear guard. Along with these 300 were 700 Thespians who also chose to stay and fight and most amazing of all, 900 Helots (Spartan serfs or slaves). If you want some interesting reading, google Helots and read about their life under the yoke of Sparta. It amazes me that they chose to fight at all. I guess my biggest problem with this movie was the fact that it was taken from a dang comic book! I should not be surprised that history was largely ignored, I guess. If any of you want to read a really good book on the subject, please get a copy of Gates of Fire, by Stephen Pressfield. This was one of the best books ever written about the battle of Thermopylae. |
| Pages crystallizing into chapters, chapters morphing into books: The story-telling, spell-casting, truth-telling work of a writer seems to be a life-long purpose. Writers who believe in God see their talent as a gift from Him and that writer feels he/she has a sacred obligation to explore the gift with energy and diligence, to polish it, to use it to brighten the landscape of their reader's hearts. Sometimes I forget all that stuff. Sometimes I forget why I write and I lose sight of the ultimate goal....not being published, though that would be nice..no the ultimate goal is to do the best I can do with the written word. I sometimes must stop and remind myself that I am like the artist who sits before a blank canvas and strives to bring his vision to life; instead of paint, my brush spreads words. At times like these I ask myself: "What have you done with your art lately?" Today I asked myself that and the answer was quick and sure in coming: "Nothing worth the showing, my friend." There was a time when this blog was used strictly to hone what few writing skills I possess. I would try new ways to structure a phrase, to put forth an idea, to paint a word picture that folks could read and actually "see" the scene through the words. Lately though I have noticed that I have become more cognizant of the social aspect of the blog. I pull back from writing on subjects which might offend, I hold in reserve critical views which may make others uncomfortable; the word pictures I paint are just too simple and bland...I really should be doing better. It seems that lately I have become more concerned with who is reading and who is commenting. If, God forbid, some regular fails to leave a comment, I obsess over why...how silly is that? Now in case you are wondering where this subject sprung from, well it was inspired by the blog of Carolina Blue . Now if you are not familiar with Ken or his blog: "Invalid Item"  you really should do yourself a favor and go read his entries. Here is a guy who writes blog entries every day, any or all of which could be lifted and placed in the New York Times and be wildly successful. He is one of the most intelligent, talented writers of the blog format on this site and he is worried that he isn't getting many views.In a perfect world, this man's blog would be far ahead of my own blog in the "most viewed" standings. He writes today and muses aloud as to what he should do to bring in more readers. It is a sad thing that a man this talented and who writes this well, must consider changing what he does to get more people to view his work. So after reading his blog, I began to consider my own poor offerings and what I need to do, not so much to bring in more readers, but to improve the painting I am placing on the canvas of the blog. I am glad I have this family trip coming up soon. It will afford me time to consider what I should do next or if I should do anything at all. If and when I do return, I hope to be able to offer you, the reader, something worth reading. Now, on a lighter note, if you haven't noticed, my sweetie's diet is really working...look how skinny she has become: Mel aka Mrs Tor !!She looks downright fetching don't she! She's gonna kill me for that one! |
| I got reacquainted with someone from my past the other day and it was nice. A lady in her early 40's was among a group of new employees who were being given a tour of the store and as they passed my work station I noticed her in the back of the crowd...there was something vaguely familiar about her and I noticed that she was staring at me with that same question on her face...did she know me? Later in the day I ran into her when I was on my lunch break and I introduced myself to her. "Hi, my name is David. I hope you don't mind me asking, but have we met before?" "I was thinking the same thing," she said. "What is your last name?" I told her and she smiled. She then told me her maiden name and it all fell into place. The last time I had seen this lady I was oh about sixteen or so and she was a small child...one of a dozen children, the offspring of John Allen Henley. Even back in the mid-sixties John Allen was something of a living anachronism. The man lived as though it were the 1860's not the 1960's. His home was a log house which had been built by his grandfather who had cut those logs himself and built the house with his own hands. John Allen had no in-door plumbing nor did he have electricity. He did own a rickety old truck but only drove it to church on Sundays with all twelve of his children loaded in the back! He had a wheel, press, and vat in his backyard where he made sugar cane syrup during season. The press was turned by one of his two mules, the same mules he used to plow forty acres of bottom land that he used to raise a huge garden. When the vegetables were in season he would harvest them by hand and would take his crop to the local farmer's market in the back of his wagon...again the two mules got him there...he never liked driving the truck that much. John Allen owned probably 200 acres of bottom land near the Trinity River, land which had been passed down to him from his father, grand father, and great grand father. I will never forget the first time I saw the Henley spread. I was about sixteen and I had gone with my father to see if John Allen would join us on a round-up for Mr. Hood, the rancher I worked for. John Allen, my dad said, owned three of the best cow dogs in the state so we were anxious to have him and his dogs along on this venture. The cows we were after had been running wild for over a year in the deep piny woods and we would need all the good dogs we could get to herd them back to the ranch. I remember how shocked I was when we pulled up in John Allen's front yard in dad's truck. That yard had not a sprig of grass in it...solid dirt which, dad assured me, Mrs. Henley swept clean every day. The yard did have something in it though....KIDS! There were a dozen bare-foot, yelling, laughing, running and playing children from the age of 14 to 1 all over that front yard...the noise was something to behold! The next thing that drew my attention was the house all these people lived happily within. I swear there were chinks between those logs you could have tossed a cat through. No lights, no running water...nothing really but a roof over their head. Well we visited awhile...dad talked to John Allen while I was quickly enlisted in whatever game the kids were playing. I don't remember the game but I do remember being mobbed by the little ones who took it upon themselves to charge me en masse and wrestle me to the ground amid gales of laughter and squeals of delight...I have to admit..it was fun. We visited with them for maybe an hour before heading back home...I was exhausted from all the roughhousing. On the way home I was talking to dad about the Henleys. "How can they live like that dad?" I asked him. "How can anyone live without running water and electricity, are they really that poor?" "Son, John Allen is about the richest man I know. He lives how he wants to live. He is free and nobody tells him how to live his life. All that other stuff is just window dressing. The man buys no meat or vegetables at the store. He raises or hunts everything they eat. His wife makes their clothes. They rise with the sun and go to bed when it's dark. I think they are pretty damn lucky, myself." I mulled over that answer awhile and I decided to get to know them better and find out for myself what they were really like. John Allen came and helped us with that round-up the next day and when we were done I asked dad if I could go back with Mr. Henley and spend the night. I wanted to see the kids again. Dad knew why I wanted to go. He said sure, if it was okay with John Allen. It was. What I discovered is that I had never before seen a happier bunch of people and I never again saw any family even close to having what they had. They ate like kings with vegetables from their garden, meat from the forest, and milk from their cows. They laughed and enjoyed family time together with no radio or tv to distract them, no outside noise, except for the crickets in the evening. I had never seen a family as close as this one was and I began to understand why dad thought John Allen was such a lucky man. He lived life on his terms alone...not a bad way to be. Now fast forward a bit....1969-70 saw Lake Livingston Dam completed on the river and the lake beginning to fill up. A funny thing happened then... John Allen Henley's two hundred acres of bottom land, when the lake completely filled up, would make up a large stretch of LAKE FRONT PROPERTY!! He was offered a fortune for the land by land developers....and he took it! Dad was surprised that John Allen would sell his land..I wasn't surprised at all. You see the main thing I learned when I stayed with them was that John Allen loved his children above all else...you could just see it in the way he was with each of them. He did exactly what I figured a man who loved his children so much would do. He sold that land and he put enough in the bank to see that each of those twelve children had their college education paid for and that was his one hard and fast rule...every one of them had to go to college. He used the rest of the money to buy a simple frame home on a dozen acres close to town. He made sure the house had electricity and running water...plumbing. This he did for his wife, who he thought deserved a break from fetching water from the well. He lived in that simple house until he died...sometime around 1995. Every one of his kids went to college. Some of them made doctors, one or two were lawyers, some were teachers...all were happy. The lady who I met the other day at the store...well she and her husband had just moved back to town. He was successful and though she was a teacher at one time, she didn't have to work. She said she stayed home as long as she could then decided to come and work part-time at Wal-Mart. We talked, I reminded her of that day in her front yard when the kids piled on me. She smiled and said she remembered that very well, she had been about five or six then. We talked about her dad and she told me she had always wished she could have given her kids the same childhood she had had, without all the modern day convinces but she knew that was a bygone time...sad really...kids today miss so very much. Oh and one more thing about John Allen....he never sold those mules and though he bought his wife a new car....he continued to take his wagon to the farmer's market and sell his crop! There's some things money can't change I guess. |
| I see major life changes on the horizon for this old dog. Did I ever tell you how much I HATE change? Yeah, well I do. It seems that in spite of our best intentions and our frugal attitude, I continue to have too much month left over at the end of each check. You know....that really does suck. It has taken us quite some time to reach the delicate balance in which we now live our lives and it pains me to think of having to make even more changes as the teeter-totter of financial well-being keeps rocking down as well as up. I get paid every two weeks and Mel gets paid every month. If we are very careful and if we don't buy red meat more than once a week, I can usually have a few dollars left at the end of a pay period. If, on the other hand, something comes up and we have some unexpected expense...BAM! So I have decided that when we return from our trip to visit Mel's mom and sister in Missouri, I am going to search out a second job. The way I look at it, sleeping is a very overrated activity in any event so I might as well make better use of some of that time. Oh yeah...I guess I haven't shared that news have I. Mel and I will be gone starting Aug. 19, through the 24th. Mel has not seen her mother and sister in two years and seeing as how her mom is 89 years old, we may not get too many more chances to spend time with her. Seven years before I can retire....damn, early in my life that seemed like an absolute impossible goal to reach....65. Now, I have never been so close, and I will be damned if it seems even further away than ever. For the first time in my life, I am actually looking forward to reaching that goal. But that is in the future...right now I have to consider what kind of second job I can get.... I think I would make a fairly good bank robber; guns don't scare me and it makes for fairly large paydays. I don't think I like the down side of the job that much though....getting thrown in a cell with some three hundred pound redneck who is lonely is not my idea of a perfect date night. I also gave some thought to being a hit-man. Of course I would only hire out to do needed executions of politicians who had lied and misled the people. The down side to that is that there is no way I could make any profit....all the money would be used to buy ammo for the thousands of targets out there. There could be an opening for an over aged pool boy in some of the more affluent neighborhoods in and around Houston. Of course that probably wouldn't work...can you imagine looking out your window and seeing ME cleaning your pool? Hell that would be enough to make you fill the dang thing in with dirt and plant a crop in the space. Well there's always photography. I have a natural knack for that art and I have always coveted that one job with Sports Illustrated....no not the photographer of the Swimsuit Issue; I want to be the guy with the little brush whose job it is to brush the sand off the model's boobs and buttocks before each shot! ' Yeah...I can do that. Anyone know who I have to send my resume in to? |
| It seems that everyone in the world knows about the infamous date...9/11/01; the day the twin towers came down in a terrorist attack. Well one month and two days before this terrible event took place, my own world changed in a deeply fundamental way and for the better. August 9, 2001 I married my wife. Melinda and my life changed dramatically. Before that day, I had spent the previous 12 years alone. I raised three of my five children alone and at the time of our marriage, two of those children still lived with me. I was a single father whose whole life revolved around going to work, coming home, and taking care of kids...that's it. When I first met Mel, I had not even gone on a date in over five years and I had stopped even looking for someone to share my life with. Then one fateful night a friend of mine was talking to me on Messenger IM and she mentioned that she had a friend she wanted me to meet. She then invited this lady into the conversation. I still remember it today. I remember sitting there at my computer, my son's were tucked into bed and it was getting late. I was about to end the conversation with the friend when she asked to bring this person into the convo for me to meet. I said Okay, but I was really wanting only to make it short, get offline and go to bed. Then Melinda popped into the window. I still remember those simple words she typed: "Hi, my name's Melinda. It is so nice to finally meet you." That's it....that's all it took...I was toast. We started talking...just little stuff, back and forth; getting to know each other. Somewhere along the way, my friend who had brought Mel into the convo left...still not sure at what point she left...I didn't even notice until Mel laughed and said: "Looks like we're alone." WORKS FOR ME! We talked for hours that first night and each and every day after that, we talked. We talked on the computer, we talked on the phone. she talked to my kids, she talked to my brother and sister-in-law....we got to know each other, over the next four or five months, better than I had ever gotten to know another human in my life. Finally, after almost six months, we decided that it was time to meet face to face. What followed was a great, continuous, North-South, South-North migration. She came down to Texas, I came up to Michigan. There were some really funny stories which came out of those trips, but that's not the subject today. Today it is all about the two of us...growing to know each other and growing to know what love was all about. It was on her last trip down to Texas that I finally popped the question. She was supposed to spend a week of her vacation with me. She asked me, when i picked her up at the airport, what I had planned for the week. I said the first thing on my mind and my heart. "Why don't we just get married and stop traveling." I know, I know...I am such a romantic devil. Well, thankfully she said "Yes". I was just going to go down to the courthouse, get the license and stand before a justice of the peace and get married. I mentioned my plans to a couple of ladies at work the next day. They both bopped me on the head, then went and planned a whole wedding from start to finish to take place on the next Saturday...one week to plan and pull off a wedding! It was probably a comedy of errors to an outsider, but to me and Mel it was absolutely perfect. Two days after the wedding, I put her on a plane back to Michigan. She had a lot of stuff to do, loose ends to tie up, before she came back down here to live with me. We made plans for me to fly up to Michigan Sept. 13th so I could help her pack up and then drive her back to Texas. Then 9/11 happened. For the first couple of days after that attack it seemed as if the country was about to come apart at the seams.....and my wife was across the country from me. The tale of my trip to Michigan two days after the attack is an adventure best left for another blog. Suffice it to say, I made the trip and she met me in the airport in Detroit. We ran together and held each other tightly. The world might be coming undone, but we had each other...we needed nothing else. It has been that way ever since. Now tomorrow, August 9, 2007 is our sixth wedding anniversary and although a month and two days later we will commemorate the sixth anniversary of the twin towers falling, tomorrow I will celebrate an even more important event in my own life....the day I FOUND life again. Thank you sweetheart. |
| You know there are days when it just doesn't pay to get out of bed...today was one of them, I fear. On most days I can make it through on just two pain pills, no problem, today was different. I stopped after three, anymore would have just been wasted, they were not working. So today was one of those days when my usually sunny disposition was somewhat dampened and my tolerance for bull shit was at an all time low. Not the most perfect of moods for a man who deals with the public, or as I like to refer to customers on days like this...Poster children for Birth Control. My morning started out on a bummer note when I found an email waiting for me from a member here at WDC. Seems one really good writer has decided to move on and will probably be followed by the one who authored the email....sad business indeed. This is a subject that will be addressed more fully at a future date though. I got to work still grumbling and took up my post at the door and wouldn't you know it...our town must have been hosting a Asshole convention and every time I looked up, I had another of their Keynote speakers in my face! It started early this morning when some lady comes stomping into the store. She stops in front of me, her face red as a beet, looking like she is about to stroke out, and she YELLS at me: "I LOST FIFTY CENTS IN YOUR COKE MACHINE. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?" Now with all the misery and grief in the world, with all the wars and rumors of wars going on, with children starving in third world countries...this woman is THIS upset over the loss of her fifty cents? I decided that she must have other issues and this has just served to set her off, so I thought that it would be best to use all the tact and diplomacy I could muster, and try to deflect some of her anger...you know...try to help her out. "Lady," I replied in a calm, measured tone. "Do you see a register here at my side? Do you see ANY form of receptacle from which I might bring forth money to give you? Or, did you just figure that BECAUSE I AM OBVIOUSLY ON THE WALMART BOARD OF DIRECTORS I WOULD SHELL OUT FIFTY CENTS FROM MY OWN POCKET!" Okay, there at the end, my voice had raised about twenty octaves, but I was trying! The upstart of it was, that my outburst acted kind of like a slap in the face. She got quiet, the redness faded from her face, and she let out a sudden laugh! "Uh, you're right," she said sheepishly. "Where do I go?" "Customer Service. Oh and they will also take any complaint in case you want to report me...name's David." Well she didn't report me, but today I would have welcomed that. You see there are days...like today, when I can't keep it all safe and sound behind lock and key and I end up spoiling for a fight...any fight...matters not at all with whom it's with. Maybe it's just a leftover byproduct of my misspent youth, who knows Later in the afternoon, about the time I had decided that I was in fact going to make it through the day without getting fired or having a fist fight, I had a man and woman...well the man anyway....stomp on my very last nerve. Now they had gone through the register and paid for a small television which they had in their cart. As they approached the door, I stepped up and told them I would like to deactivate the security device on the television so it would not set off my door alarm. The box is too big for the cashier to do it so I normally just use my hand-held device to deactivate them. The woman was very nice. She stopped and allowed me to run the wand over the box and deactivate the security tag. The husband, however was growling under his breath the whole time...insulted at being stopped. I ignored him...see I was trying to be nice. However, when I finished and stepped back so they could leave the husband said: "Well if the damn door goes off anyway, we'll just run." "Go ahead sir," I quipped with a smile. "I haven't shot anyone since '68. I'm curious to see if I'm still a good shot." His eyes widened in surprise and he said: "You're kidding....right?" "Yes Sir." I said sadly. "they won't let me have a gun anymore." Well at least I gave him something to think about as he hurried out the door, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. So that was how my day was...not the best, but by far, not the worse. The thing is, it will get better. Tomorrow the pills may work, and I will have some of my regular NICE customers, and all will be sunshine and light again. Or I may get to kill something....either way is okay, really. Now let me leave you with a bit of fun: HOW SMART IS YOUR RIGHT FOOT? Let's do a little exercise, shall we and test how well your right foot can carry out an order from your brain. Assuming you are sitting as you read this.....stick out your right foot. now start to move the foot and leg in clock-wise circles. Good....so far it's working..right..... Now, while the leg and foot are describing the circles your brain has commanded they do, take your right arm and extend it out in front of you. Now trace a large number: 6 in the air.....LOOK...DID YOUR FOOT CONTINUE IT'S MOTION OR DID IT GET CONFUSED AND TRY TO TURN TO THE LEFT???? Just a little exercise to maybe show you that your foot ain't as smart as you thought! |
| As I have mentioned before here in this blog, in the year prior to my father's death he was very intent upon telling me some stories from his youth. I have always believed that he felt that his time was growing to a close and he wanted to pass down those stories to another generation. He shyly suggested at one point that I might even want to write something about these stories. This was a milestone in our relationship because until that moment, my father had never acknowledged the fact that I loved to write, at least not to me. Years later my mother confided in me that he use to brag to his friends that his son could sure write a dang good story! I was humbled by that fact and in fact it can still almost bring tears to my eyes. I never knew the man cared about what I did....such is life I suppose. Anyway, one of the stories he told me was one which his own father had relayed to him; The story of Tom Quinlan and Mary Lee. This story took place years before my father's birth, probably about 1900 in the small farming community Groveton, Texas. Tom Quinlan was an Irish lad of about seventeen who had only recently come over from the old country. He was an orphan, his parents had died when he was only a small child and he had lived most of his life on the streets of Dublin, or at least that was the accepted gossip of the time. It was fact that Tom had been a young deck hand who had jumped ship in Galveston, Texas and had decided to make America his home. Tom became one of a dying breed at the time: the itinerant cowboy. He made his way across the state working for different ranches, never staying in one place very long. Tom's speciality was breaking horses. My Grandfather said the boy had a special touch with a horse and could have them saddle-ready quicker than anyone he had ever known. Tom finally settled in Groveton and landed a job with one of the largest cattle ranches in the area as a wrangler in charge of a large remuda of horses used by the cowboys on the ranch. Now maybe the trouble started because Tom hardly talked at all and he did not make friends easily. People in and around the community thought Tom a bit slow in the head even if he was a whiz with a horse and they tended to look down at him. Tom never seemed to notice the snubs nor mind being alone most of the time except for the horses he loved. One of the few people who did get to know Tom,. was my Grandfather who had hired him to gentle some horses for him in Tom's free time from his ranch duties. Grandpa said that Tom could work next to you all day and not utter five words but he wasn't slow of wit....just quiet, and Grandpa liked that in a man. It seems that as Tom grew to know and trust my grandfather, he confided in him to some extent about his past. All Grandpa would say about Tom's life in Ireland was: "Somethings are better left in the past." Now life would have probably been quiet for Tom had it not been for Mary Lee, the youngest daughter of Capt. James Lee, the owner of the ranch where Tom worked. Mary was fifteen and, according to Grandpa, she was a beauty, with fiery red hair and green eyes and was the apple of her father's eye. Unfortunately, it was love at first sight between these two kids and Capt. Lee saw it right off and determined to put a stop to any foolish thoughts that slow, Irish, vagabond might have of marrying into a rich family. The first time that Mary's father caught the two of them together talking, he took a bull-whip to Tom and run him off the ranch. Tom, instead of leaving, moved into an abandoned squatter's shack a few miles from the ranch and began to take odd jobs from farmers and ranchers in the vicinity; there was always a need for a man who could work with horses. This infuriated Capt. Lee for he was pretty sure his head-strong daughter was meeting Tom on the sly...and she was. My Grandfathers small farm was between the ranch and Tom's place and the two lovers would meet in the evenings in the woods between the ranch house and my Grandpa's farm. Mary Lee loved Tom, that was for sure, but she was afraid of her father and her four older brothers and seemed unable to break with them. It was her four brothers who caught up with Tom late one night as he rode home from one of those meetings with his sweetheart. They demanded that he leave the county, if not the state, and never return to which he simply said "No". Then, as he sit his horse and faced the four brothers, one of them pulled a shotgun from his saddle scabbard and shot Tom. There had been about ten or fifteen feet between the two and when the gun was aimed at him, Tom had wheeled his horse in an effort to escape. The pellets took him in the right side, right arm, and right leg. He clung to his saddle horn and the horse bolted into the woods. My grandfather was awakened some time later by the dogs barking furiously. When he came outside, he found Tom laying in the yard covered with blood and barely breathing. Grandpa quickly woke up the rest of the family, took the door off the hinges and placed Tom on it. Then he, Grandma, and one of his brothers carried Tom into the barn where he and grandma took turns picking out the shot they could reach and stopping the bleeding. Grandpa's brother saddled his horse and rode to fetch the doctor. It was decided to keep the boy's whereabouts a secret and the doctor went along with that. Tom was lain up for almost a month, but he survived. When he finally got better and was able to walk, Tom simply told my Grandpa: "It's time. I'm going to get Mary Lee." With that he saddled his horse and rode toward the country church. It was Sunday and he knew where the whole family would be...in church. When the doors of the church opened, and the men and women walked into the bright sunlight, there stood Tom Quinlan with a pistol in each hand! My grandfather stood behind him, holding his old shotgun and the reins to two saddled horses. True to his quiet manner, all Tom said was: "Mary, will you come with me and be my wife?" "Yes, Tom, I will." she said it simply and with much feeling then she bolted down the steps of the church and joined Tom at his side. Tom then turned to the one brother who had shot him and fired one bullet which took the man in the shoulder and dropped him. Tom figured that made them even. Grandpa's shotgun covered the other men as Tom and Mary Lee mounted their horses and rode out of the church yard and were never seen in those parts again. Of course, when my dad told me this story, I peppered him with questions: "What happened to them? Did they live happily ever after? Did her father and brothers follow them?" Dad said that his father told him that no one ever heard from the two, nor did the other Lee men try to follow them. As to whether they lived happily ever after, well Grandpa just smiled and said..."I think so, son, I think they did." I hope you all enjoyed this little story from the turn of the century Texas, thanks for stopping by. |
| A couple of months back some of you may remember that I did an entry on me and Mongo's big adventure in flight; "Invalid Entry" . You may also remember that I happened to say that the four of us on that little trip looked like a group from a Colombian Cartel, ready to smuggle in dope....well I now have proof. Yesterday, Dennis Clifton, who figured prominently in that story, emailed me a picture taken just before the take-off of that little adventure so I figured I would post it here and give you guys a feel for what it was really like. Here is a picture of "The Three Amigos and the deranged pilot". If any of you need a refresher on the whole story, click the link to the blog entry above and give it a read. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** See what I mean....does that not look like four fugitives from the law or what. Dennis Clifton is the one on the far right and he is the one who sent me this picture...Thanks Dennis. I have to also report that getting that picture seems to have made Mel's day, she has been laughing ever since I showed it to her...dang wimmen!! |
| I Do Not Talk SLOW!! The above was written in rebuttal to a certain blogger on this site, thank you very much! Seems said blogger called me on the phone last night....her cell, my land-line....and as is my habit whenever we talk, I put her on speaker-phone so that Mel could join the conversation as well. I must say, last night, this unnamed blogger (who has a shoe fetish) and Mel had a high old time making fun of the way I talk....that just wasn't right! Oh yeah, they were all laughing and giggling at how I talk and I gotta tell ya....I TALK PERFECTLY NORMAL! It's them that talk like a couple of machine guns rattling off a full clip. You don't have to believe me...ask PlannerDan and he will tell you, I talk just like him...NORMAL!Now it was bad enough that Mel and the UB (Unnamed Blogger) spent the better part of an hour laughing at me, but the UB also spread this untrue story about my speech patterns to another blogger. The UB actually told zwisis that if she were to ever speak to me via the phone, she would be able to fix a nice cup of tea for herself while I was trying to say: "Hi, how are you?" Then she said that if Sarah happened to take a good seat, in front of a window with a view, she would be able to watch the seasons change while I was trying to finish the conversation!!!! Yes, she shared all these little gems with Mel and they both had great chuckles at my expense. Even after the phone convo, later in the evening, Mel was still laughing...I was not! Now I ask you......do I talk slow? How long did it take you to read this? I bet it takes you no longer to read my blog than it does any other blog, does it. MEMORY OF THE DAY Low clouds sailed silently and slowly across the face of the full moon. The heat, even at midnight, was stifling as the four of us lay on our stomachs in the tall grass near the wire. This was my first mission and as the newest member of the team, I was tasked to bring back a captive. As a particularly large cloud covered the moon and my surroundings was bathed in a deeper shade of darkness, I started crawling under the wire while the other three members of my team spread out to serve as over watch and look-out. I progressed at a quick crawl to the spot where my victim lay somnolent in the darkness. Quick as a cat, I pounced on my quarry and after a short struggle, removed it from its resting place. With both arms wrapped around my captive to make sure escape was impossible, I made my way silently back under the wire and joined my team members. Ahhh, I can still taste the sweet meat of that watermelon as we gathered under a tree close by the fence surrounding the Mellon patch and quickly cut and devoured that big watermelon that had reached just the right stage of ripeness. There is nothing like the feeling of being 13 and just pulling off your first successful raid of a watermelon patch!!! |
| LOL...I think I may have skeered a few of you with my last entry. I promise, from now on I will leave the scholarly, well written history pieces to my buddy, Carolina Blue , Gawd knows he does them better anyway. Today I revert to my more standard, disjointed, making-no-sense-whatsoever, entry. In the "It's the Internet, not real life" department: I caught the tail end of a news report a few days ago. Seems this bubba from somewhere around Austin was outraged at being referred to as a "Geek" by someone in their blog. Well the Bubba decided to take matters in his own hands and he jumped in his car and drove 1300 miles to where this person lives...found his house and...BURNED IT TO THE GROUND!!! There is a good lesson for all of us in here. Don't call anyone a Geek in your blog unless you have some really kick-arse fire insurance on your house. Now onto another matter.... It seems that our dear Ms. Scarlett has decided that she wants more stuff from Dr. Bubba in her Blogville News newsletter. Well I thought it might be a good time to give you all some background on the good doctor. First of all I must dispel a popular myth...Dr. Bubba is not ME. No, dear readers, I am merely a go-between, passing questions to the doc and printing his answers. So, no sending me any hate mails after some of his stuff shows up in the newsletter. Dr. Bubba's real name is Billy Bob Rabinowitz and he was born and raised in Buzzard Neck, Texas. Besides being famous in his own town for being the only Jewish Cowboy in Buzzard Neck, Billy Bob is also a graduate of Buzzard Neck University. He first earned a bachelor's degree in Chicken Sexing, then went back to school and earned his masters degree in psychology. His master's thesis, entitled: "I'm Okay, You're Okay....Everybody else SUCKS" won acclaim in at least a four county area around Buzzard Neck. Billy Bob, aka Dr. Bubba decided to cash in on the popularity of that other doctor, Dr. Phil, himself a good ole Texas boy, so he began an advice column in the Buzzard Neck Carrion, his local paper. However, since the Carrion has a circulation of slightly fewer people than survived the sinking of the Titanic, Billy Bob decided to branch out and take questions and do a column in our own Blogville News. He asks that anybody out there who has serious questions pertaining to relationships, etiquette, writing, The Hollywood Scene, or any other damn thing that is just bothering you, please send your questions to me and I will forward them to him. He would get on the computer and do it himself but, as he explained it to me, he is kept from the Internet as a condition of his early parole....that's a whole nother story. The one Caveat he wanted me to pass on though is that even though you send serious question....DO NOT EXPECT ANYTHING SERIOUS FOR AN ANSWER!!! The man is genetically incapable of being serious, so be warned! |
| General John Bell Hood was not a Texan, but Texans loved him. Sometimes that’s all it takes to carve out a niche in history. John Bell Hood was born in 1831 in Owingsville, Kentucky, the son of Doctor John W. Hood and Theodosia French Hood. He graduated from West Point in 1853 after a less than stellar four years, 44th of a class of 52. Even then, Hood exhibited a trait that would make him a first class leader of a small fighting unit. He was almost expelled numerous times for fighting. Upon graduation from West Point, Hood was sent as a brand new second lieutenant to California where he served with the 4th Infantry. But it was not until he was sent to Texas and the Second Infantry that John Bell Hood found men best suited to his brand of aggressive leadership. The commander of the Second Infantry at the time was Colonel Robert E. Lee. It was while he was in Texas, serving with the Union Army that Hood received the first of what would be many wounds in his career. He took an arrow through his hand from a Comanche bow at Devil’s River, Texas. Like a large portion of Southern officers and men serving in the Union army, Hood resigned immediately after the battle of Fort Sumter and, dissatisfied with the neutrality of his native Kentucky, decided to serve his adopted state of Texas. He joined the Confederate army as a cavalry captain, but by Sept. 30, 1861 was promoted to be to Colonel in command of the 4th Texas Infantry Regiment, part of the Texas Brigade, which was formed in Montgomery, Alabama. Once again Hood found himself in command of a bunch of fiery, independent Texans who were spoiling for a fight. This time though, instead of going up against the finest light Calvary in the world, the Comanche warrior, Bell knew he and his Texans would be facing green troops of the mainly untested Union Army. The famed Texas Brigade was first organized by the Confederate War Department on October 22, 1861. The brigade was composed of the First, Fourth and Fifth Texas Infantry Regiments, and was originally commanded by Brigadier General Louis T. Wigfall. Initially, the First Texas was commanded by General Wigfall and Lt. Col. Hugh McLeod; the Fourth Texas by Col. Hood and Lt. Col. John Marshall;, and the Fifth Texas by Col. James Archer and Lt. Col. Jerome Robertson. In November of 1861 the Eighteenth Georgia Infantry (which became affectionately called "The Third Texas") under the command of Col. William Wofford was attached to the Texas Brigade, and in June of 1862 the eight South Carolina infantry companies of Col. Wade Hampton, known as Hampton's Legion, joined the Texas units, followed by Col. Van Manning's Third Arkansas Infantry in November 1862. Although the Eighteenth Georgia and Hampton's Legion would be transferred from the Texas Brigade during army reorganizations later in the war, the Third Arkansas would remain with the brigade until Lee's surrender at Appomattox. On March 7, 1862 Hood was notified of his promotion to Brigadier General, and his appointment to command of the Texas Brigade, replacing its original commander Brigadier General Wigfall, who, recently elected to the Confederate Senate, had resigned from the Confederate army. The Texas Brigade was attached to the Confederate army defending Richmond, then under the command of General Joseph E. Johnston. Major J. W. Ratchford of the Texas Brigade said of General Hood, "Few generals have possessed the warm personal love of their men as Hood did. This attachment was something different from any feeling I have ever known to exist between men and commander Even though General Hood participated in many, many battles and though he was highly successful as a Brigade and Division commander he was misused later in the war by being asked to lead a whole army. Hood was never a strategist, he was first and foremost a tactician who excelled in leading a smaller force from the front, closing with the enemy and destroying him. Now even though as a leader of a whole army, Hood was less than successful and his Tennessee campaign was an unparallel disaster. I would like to highlight his first major battle and one in which he showed a glimpse of what was to come from him in the next two years. The Battle of Gaines’ Mill The Confederate attack at Gaines' Mill began in the late afternoon, after a diversionary movement by Whiting and General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson. The Texas Brigade, originally held in reserve, was called upon by Lee to attack Federal infantry and artillery positions at the site of Gaines' Mill, on McClellan's right flank. The Federals held a virtually impregnable position, taking advantage of terrain that included exposed approaches, and a swamp that the attackers would have to cross. Lee, realizing that the Gaines' Mill ridge was the key to victory, asked Hood if he could take the heavily fortified Union position where earlier attempts had met with disaster. Hood replied "I will try." According to Private Val Giles of the Fourth Texas, Hood calmly addressed the troops with instructions, and reminded them that he had promised to personally lead their first major assault, declaring, "The time has come and I am here." The instructions were to fix bayonets, and charge the Federal entrenchments, not firing until the Federal lines had been reached. The assault involved a charge of approximately one mile over an open field, across the swampy bottom land of Boatswain Creek, and up another exposed slope to the crest of the hill occupied by Union General George Morell's division. A Confederate soldier recalled, "I tell you what,...I got mighty nervous and shaky while we were forming in the apple orchard to make that last desperate charge on the batteries. But when I looked behind me and saw old Hood resting on one foot, his arm raised above his head, his hand grasping the limb of a tree, looking as unconcerned as if we were on dress parade, I just determined that if he could stand it, so would I." Hood launched the attack, personally leading the Fourth Texas in the charge. "Oh the slaughter as we charged" recalled Private Bennett Wood of Company C., "We understood why General Hood wanted us to go...without firing, for in piles all around us were other Confederates, who had stopped to load their guns...dead and dying." Passing over hundreds of their dead and wounded Virginia and Louisiana comrades who had failed on two prior assaults, the Federal infantry was crushed in the tide of screaming Texans, resulting in the capture of sixteen artillery pieces and most of the Fourth New Jersey Infantry Regiment. The Fourth Texas paid a terrible price for their victorious effort, suffering 261 casualties out of 546 participants. During the fight, every field grade officer in the Fourth Texas was killed or wounded. General Hood, who, although a staff officer, personally led the regiment in the assault, was the only officer remaining with the Fourth Texas at the end of the battle. The affectionate relationship between Hood and his troops grew even stronger after the victory at Gaines' Mill. During the night after the battle Hood patrolled the field, assisting his men in the gathering of the dead and wounded. Hood gave his own horse to Private Jake Smilie so that the he could collect the bodies of his two dead brothers, and bury them together. Late in the night, Major James W. Ratchford of D.H. Hill's staff at Gaines' Mill (the Texas Brigade was part of Hill's Division) wrote of a scene immediately after the battle, "Early in the same night, while I was trying to gather up some of our division that had been scattered in the pursuit (of the Federals), I came upon General Hood sitting on a cracker box. As I approached, he looked up at me, and I could see tears streaming down his cheeks. His brigade had lost heavily, and all about him were the dead and wounded. I spoke to him and he replied brokenly, 'Just look here Major, at all these dead and suffering men, and every one of them as good as I am, yet I am untouched.' This would be true only a little longer, for the gallant Hood left an arm at Gettysburg and a leg on the bloody field of Chickamauga." The next morning, Hood learned at roll call that over 60% of the men were not present. According to Chaplain Nicholas Davis "Tears rolled down the General's cheeks as he rode away." General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, upon surveying the field the following day remarked; "The men who carried these positions were soldiers indeed." John Bell Hood and the Texas Brigade thus played the paramount role in Robert E. Lee's first tactical military victory, and a bond had been established that would cause Lee to call upon Hood and his Texans for the most critical tasks at the ensuing battles of Second Manassas, Antietam, and Gettysburg. Now I happen to have highlighted the Battle of Gaines’ Mill for a reason; I knew personally of one of the men who fought that battle. My Great Grandfather was fifteen years old and had followed his father who was fifty-two to Alabama to join up with John Bell Hood and his Texas Brigade. My Great, great grandfather was overcome by fever and was wounded in a small fight before Gaines’ Mill and was mustered out of the Army and returned to Texas but my great grandfather opted to stay with the brigade and not only did he fight at Gaines’ Mill, but he remained with the Texas Brigade until Hood was reassigned and then he fought with the Army of Virginia until the end of the war. Many years ago, while still in school, my aunt showed me a picture of my great grandfather taken shortly after he had joined the Confederate army and except for my glasses, we could have been twin brothers. It was like looking at a faded, old picture of myself. From then on I could never get enough of reading about the civil war. To me, the Civil War is more than just dry history, it was the backdrop upon which my ancestors lived their lives and passed their ideals and their beliefs down to me. So this is why I have a special bond with General John Bell Hood. He was the perfect match for a bunch of rowdy, hell-for-leather Texans and while he lead the Brigade he was a bright star for the Confederacy. |
| This is my Two Hundred and Sixty First entry in my second blog and with this entry I have reached yet another milestone...20,000 views. You readers probably have no idea just how humble and appreciative this makes me. There is no way at all in which I can adequately thank all of you who drop by here on a daily basis expecting to find something of interest to read. I truly am unworthy of the attention you folks have given my writings but knowing this, I am constantly spurred on to do better and that has helped my writings immeasurably. The truth is, coming up with topics for my blog has become progressively harder and harder as this second blog moves toward its end and there are many days when I despair of ever being able to hold to the course and finish this second book. You folks are what keeps me trying. So, in the future, forgive me if I repeat myself and bring up topics which I have covered ad nauseum. Forgive me if from time to time I indulge myself and write about personal stuff that is happening in my life, or things that will probably be of no interest to anyone but me. I think I may have to do that just to have something to talk about for another 239 entries. I have become aware of the fact that in this blog I have a lot of readers who very seldom or never leave a comment and that's okay, I don't mind a bit. I read a lot of blogs myself that I almost never comment to. The thing is, I would love for those of you who don't comment in here as a rule, to please just leave a little "Hello" so I can have the opportunity to thank you for your presence in my little space. So now all I have to do is try and come up with 239 more entries....geeze...anyone got any ideas? Bless you all and I will be seeing you around Blogville. |
| Every time I get to thinking that there is just no hope for us, that man's inhumanity to man has reached its capacity and the world just sucks, something happens to give me a little ray of hope. Yesterday was such a day. I have mentioned before, in my blog that my Wal-Mart store has an outstanding record of helping its own, well yesterday they outdid themselves. You see our store has what they call the B-Fund, or Benevolent Fund. This is money we raise and keep in a bank account which is used any time one of our employees fall on hard times. If there is a sickness or a death in the family, if their house is damaged or destroyed by flood or fire, if they are involved in an accident....the B-Fund and the other employees go to their aid. The B-Fund is not sanctioned by the Corporate office, nor is it helped in any way by them. This is a good thing because THEY also have no say in how we use the money. The donations are raised by having raffles and cooking Lunches. The lunches are offered for $3.00 a plate and usually consist of hamburgers, grilled on a grill outside the store, or soup and salads, and even sometimes, barbeque brisket. Now even though Corporate does not participate in this endeavour, we do have help from our store manager who allows food to be "written off" as a loss and used in the lunches. He also "writes off" merchandise to be used in the raffles. It might make his own bottom line look a little worse than others, but he doesn't care...he wants to help. Well the day before yesterday, fairly late in the day, we learned that a new asst. manager who just transferred to our store needed some help. Her mother suffers from Liver Cancer and on that day, she was told by the doctors that her mother had days....two weeks at the most...to live. Her mother had only one wish and that was to spend one more Christmas with her grandchildren....our new Assistants three daughters. The mother had been released from the hospital so that she could live her last days at home with her daughter....but there was no way she was going to make Christmas. Here is where our B-Fund people comes into play. They checked the balance in the bank, then yesterday they held another lunch event, then they went into high gear! One of the ladies traveled to the next town where there was a Tree Farm. She explained her mission to the farm owner and that owner told her to take her pick of the trees...for free. Our new assistant didn't have any Christmas decorations so everyone pitched in, donated some of their own decorations and BAM, they had a tree and had it decorated. Next they went out and bought Christmas presents for the whole family and wrapped them...just like at a real Christmas time! Finally, and I have no idea where they got them, but they found enough CHRISTMAS CARDS for everyone at work to sign one and then mailed them to the family! That's over 300 cards! They pulled all this off with only about two days notice! So in a couple of days from now, this family will have their Christmas in July and a mother will have her final wish fulfilled. The story will not end there though. When the mother does pass away, the employees of our store will be there for the daughter. There will be large quantities of food brought to her house and there will be two or three ladies of the B-Fund available to do anything she needs doing during that trying time. There will also be a large contingent of workers at the funeral to give their support. All this was done and will be done for a NEW employee none of us really know that well, but we don't have to know her. What is important is that she is one of us now...we take care of our own. So you see, there are good people out there and there are good things taking place and sometimes those good things even outweigh all the bad we experience or read about in the world. Now can you see why I don't mind saying: "I love my job!" |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
