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 |  They say:"Third time's a charm". We shall see. Welcome to my third blog on WDC, |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The above picture has graced both my other blogs and of course I had to have it here...Me and my sweetie. This is my third blog here on WDC. This is, in effect, my house. So please come on in and make yourself at home. Please don't mind the mess because this part is still under construction and I will be adding stuff in the next few weeks until I get it the way I want it. About the Title: "Tor's House"....Well in a way, this is what a blog is to many of us. It is our way of inviting the world into our personal space. Just like in real life, I will endeavor to be the best host to my guests that I can be, but you must understand...in my house I tend to speak my mind. I apologize in advance for any who may feel uncomfortable. What will you find here? Oh that's easy....Humor, strong opinion, and even some philosophical musings....or what passes for that with a dumb ole country boy. So I welcome everyone...come in and let's sit and chew the fat awhile. Let's talk about stuff and see if we can figure out the answers to the world's problems....or what to make for lunch...whichever. |
| And so it begins....the Holiday season, or as we in retail like to think of it...Custer's last Stand, if Custer was unarmed. As a result of this "Joyous" time, there is very little left of me by the time I get a day off so it is rather difficult for me to put two sentences together to make any sort of sense....yeah I know, it's pretty hard for me to do that at ANY time of year....shaddup. So anyway, here I sit with a day off and I am left in a musing frame of mind. Maybe that should be: Bemused....whatever. No one particular subject comes to mind, just a number of small things are bumping around in my head, wanting out so I might as well let them free....right? In the "Lipstick on a Pig" category.....A couple of weeks ago Mel went on a garage sale safari with her sister and she came back with three or four pairs of pants for me to wear to work. Now she didn't just go to any old garage sales, no siree, my girl went to the more affluent section of town.....you know....where all the trailers are double-wides and less than three years old...we call that Sob Hill. So yesterday I happened to wear one of those pair of pants she got at a garage sale. I put them on then happened to walk through the living room where Mel was sitting. "Oh baby," she said as I walked past. "I like those pants on you, they make you look like you have a butt." Well I was shocked. You see all McClain men are cursed with a terrible affliction; We have no ass. Yup, flat as a board. If you look at any of us from behind, its like staring at a board fence...flat. I turned quickly and looked over my shoulder...damned if she wasn't right, those expensive, designer style pants did make it look as though I have an ass! I HAVE SEEN DA LIGHT! It came to me in a flash of insight, in that moment....da pants DO make the man! You women just think about that for a minute. The next time you catch yourself staring at ole Brad Pitt's backside just remember....he is probably just as flat-assed as this ole boy; he can just afford them ass-enhancing pants. I smugly told Mel that I would have to put a little extra giggle in my walk at work, just to give the girls a thrill. That is when she came up with that "Lipstick on a pig" remark....dang smart-butt. On the Financial front.....I have decided, since the government has gotten into the bail-out business, to send a letter to Washington requesting they BAIL ME OUT! Hey, it might work, after all it will cost them a hell of a lot less to bail me out than it would cost to do the same for the auto industry. I think I will merely ask for a sum equal to what I would normally make in three years, that should just about cover it. After three years I will be able to get on the permanent government dole with Social Security...you know, that's where they allow you to draw a portion of the money you have paid over the past forty years or so....money they have used for their own purposes...it's only fair. After all, it was reported today that the government is poised to PLEDGE 7.4 TRILLION dollars to bail out EVERYTHING in case the economy collapses. 7.4 trillion? Hell all I want is less than a hundred thousand...I'M A DEAL! Okay, that's about all I have today, but I would like to leave you with a little joke about the auto industry. I got a laugh out of it and I hope you do to....we gotta laugh don't we? This is a Golden Oldie, but very up to date now. A Japanese company ( Toyota ) and an American company (GM) decided to have a canoe race on the Missouri River. Both teams practiced long and hard to reach their peak performance before the race. On the big day, the Japanese won by a mile. The Americans, very discouraged and depressed, decided to investigate the reason for the crushing defeat. A management team made up of senior management was formed to investigate and recommend appropriate action. Their conclusion was the Japanese had 8 people rowing and 1 person steering, while the American team had 8 people steering and 1 person rowing. Feeling a deeper study was in order, American management hired a consulting company and paid them a large amount of money for a second opinion. They advised, of course, that too many people were steering the boat, while not enough people were rowing. Not sure of how to utilize that information, but wanting to prevent another loss to the Japanese, the rowing team's management structure was totally reorganized to 4 steering supervisors, 3 area steering superintendents, and 1 assistant superintendent steering manager. They also implemented a new performance system that would give the 1 person rowing the boat greater incentive to work harder. It was called the 'Rowing Team Quality First Program,' with meetings, dinners, and free pens for the rower.. There was discussion of getting new paddles, canoes, and other equipment, extra vacation days for practices and bonuses. The next year the Japanese won by two miles. Humiliated, the American management laid off the rower for poor performance, halted development of a new canoe, sold the paddles, and canceled all capital investments for new equipment. The money saved was distributed to the Senior Executives as bonuses and the next year's racing team was out-sourced to India . Sadly.............. The End. Here's something else to think about: GM has spent the last thirty years moving all its factories out of the US , claiming they can't make money paying American wages. TOYOTA has spent the last thirty years building more than a dozen plants inside the US . The last quarter's results: TOYOTA makes 4 billion in profits while GM racked up 9 billion in losses. GM folks are still scratching their heads. IF THIS WEREN'T TRUE, IT MIGHT BE FUNNY. |
| I am not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, while working and striving to just live my life, I forgot why I write. Indeed, I seem to have forgotten the joy of telling the story. Well, yesterday I was reminded of these things in a most unlikely way. At my store we have a young man, about twenty or so, and he asked me the other day if he could read my book. I politely told him that he could BUY the book online and he shook his head sadly and told me he didn't have a computer or access to one. I am nothing if not a soft touch for these young kids; all of them remind me of my own youngest son and I have kind of un officially adopted them all. So of course I gave him a copy of my book and told him sternly that I wanted it back in a month or so. You see I have lent this young man books before, trying to get him interested in reading and he always keeps them for months before returning them unfinished. He keeps telling me he would rather wait until they make a movie from a book.....he gets more from the movie than trying to read the book. I held no expectations that this would prove any different from the other times I had lent him books and I told him so, but he still wanted to read it so I gave him the book. Yesterday he sought me out at the door and was all excited. "Dude, that Arwen Hawken really ROCKS!" He exclaimed. This brought some funny looks from customers who were passing by where we stood but it caused me to smile. Arwen Hawken was the main character in one of my stories in my book. He then proceeded to tell me about a few other characters in other stories in my book and he even discussed the different plots involved. This from a boy who hates to read! Later in the day I caught him in the break room telling everyone in there how they HAD to buy my book and HOW GOOD it was! It suddenly reminded me of what I love about writing....sharing the story, showing the adventure to strangers, taking them to another world and involving them in my tale. I was also reminded of how much I love engaging young minds and getting them excited about reading the written word....there are very few things better than that. Yes, it took this simple young man and his child-like enthusiasm to remind me that, when it is all said and done, what I am at my very core is a Storyteller, a Keeper of the Word. He reminded me again of the one thing that truly brings my soul peace and my mind ease. This is what writing is all about to me. I owe the boy a debt of gratitude. |
| I've been angry for more than a week now and I can't get through it. Over a week ago now, we had a lovely visit from Mel's son, his wife and our beautiful grandson. It was a good visit; we talked, we laughed, we played with the baby...it was all good. Then I find out that Richard has put in for duty in Germany. No big deal right, after all, it's been over sixty years since we had a quarrel with those folks. Well it seems that the freaking army has this little rule....you go to Germany, you automatically get at least a one year paid vacation in either Iraq or Afghanistan. Rich is a Black hawk pilot...he will be out front of everyone. That news hit me like a ton of bricks. He doesn't know what he is going into. Oh he has been trained and trained well, and he understands that he is going into combat but the boy has never heard a shot fired in anger....I have. I know. Then, a few days later, after they have gone home, I am sitting and watching the news and there is Mr. Ayers, pontificating before a group of newsmen, giving his oh so glib, smart, off-the-cuff answers and pausing for the polite chuckles of his entourage....I lost it. How is it that this man is allowed a public forum to speak his venom and American boys and girls are dying while doing their duty. Why isn't America not standing up and saying: "OH NO YOU DON'T". The same goes on this site.....the lack of outrage over Ayers is absolutely heartbreaking to me. Have we become so polarized here that outrage is only acceptable when it is aimed at Conservatives or Republicans? Is free speech only celebrated when we are not questioning a friend of the new President? I put my blog on Private for a little while and was not sure I would make it public any longer....but what the hell....I have always given my honest opinion on all matters, why should I stop now? I understand that taking such a stand will cost me readers and that's okay too. One thing which I don't want to see affected though is the Blogville News. I started that newsletter three years ago and Scarlett  did a wonderful job building the readership so I will do whatever it takes to see it continue as a success. With that in mind, I now offer the Newsletter to anyone who wants to do it. I do feel that it would suffer with me as its editor....readership would drop like a rock.So anyone out there feel they can do the job and produce the newsletter, please email me and I will send them all the files and they can be up and running in no time at all. As for me....well I need to get rid of this anger before I even think about blogging. |
| The past day or so I have remained fairly silent on the blog page; I've been watching, reading.....waiting for someone else to bring it up, but no one has. I can only surmise, by your collective silence, that you have all decided to leave it up to this old, dumber-than-a-box-of-rocks, hillbilly, redneck to broach the subject that has been flashed over the news shows the past two days. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Well, there's no need to shout. I am speaking, of course about the different "interviews" of William Ayers. I think he has written another book or something....go figure. Allow me to keep this simple....William Ayers was, and is, a terrorist; the leopard can not change his spots. In fact, I will go a step further and say that he is the worse kind of terrorist; he is that special kind of animal that has learned to use the system he once tried so hard to destroy with bombs. What makes this even worse is the fact that he has been accepted by and large by the college intelligentsia of America. Nowadays he makes his money teaching our children in one of the ivory towers of education we call College, but forty years ago he was planting bombs in buildings and statues in Chicago. And this is the sort of man you highly educated Liberals embrace? Shame on all of you! As much as I detest William Ayers and everything he stands for, I have even less respect for the mewling, milk toast, lap-dog, liberals who make excuses for him. Is that clear enough, do I need to expand upon that theme? In 2001, during an interview in Chicago, when asked about being a 'Domestic Terrorist' here is what Mr. Ayers said...."We weren't terrorists," Ayers told an interviewer for the Chicago Tribune . "The reason we weren't terrorists is because we did not commit random acts of terror against people. Terrorism was what was being practiced in the countryside of Vietnam by the United States." This was in 2001....does it sound like he has been "Rehabilitated" to you? That is what our President elect thought of him...he had been rehabilitated. That says a lot for Mr. Obama's judgement doesn't it. The arrogance of the man knows no bounds. He has such a low opinion of the common folk of this nation, that he actually thinks we will believe such reasoning as he put forth in that statement. The only ones swallowing that line of crap are his fellow Intellectuals. The rest of us are able to see him for what he is. Like our President Elect once said about someone else....." You can put lipstick on a Pig, but he is still a Pig." Mr. Ayers IS a terrorist.....Lipstick and all. |
| In his latest blog, my good friend posed the question to his readers: "What do you do, hotshot? Well? What.. do.. you… do?" He was, of course, talking about what decision we would make if we were faced with the choice of whether or not to bail out the big American Auto makers. As usual in Ken's blog, he laid out very clear pros and cons for either bailing them out or letting them sink and again, he invited each of us to put ourselves in the place of the man who makes that choice...."What would you do, hotshot?" Well okay Ken, I shall take up your challenge and put myself in the place of the Man who makes the decision. It is now January 21st. and I have just been sworn in as the very first President elected by a third party....the Bubba Party...and I now have to make the hard decision of what to do about all these bail-outs. The scene opens with a wide shot of the Oval Office. The new President is sitting at the large desk. His feet are up on the desk and crossed at the ankles and he is staring out the window at the traffic passing to and fro on the street beyond the historic building. His new Chief of Staff, ccstring is sitting in an overstuffed, high back chair in front of the desk and he is pulling on a tall long-neck beverage. Suddenly, as if coming to a decision, the new President sits up straight, swings his feet off the desk and addresses his Chief of Staff... "Okay CC, show the 'suits' in and let's get this over with. If we play this right, we may still have time to go fishing this afternoon." CC jumps out of his chair, drains the last of his beverage, and tosses the empty bottle in a trash can. He strides over to the door of the Oval Office and opens it, sticks his head out and yells... "Hey, you guys can come in now and hurry up; we got important stuff to do later!" As CC holds the door open, the heads of the big three auto makers troop into the office, followed by the head of the Auto worker's Union. All four take up seats in front of the President's desk. Tor does not greet the men but merely stands behind his desk and stares at them, a frown drawing his mouth down. The silence stretches out to an uncomfortable length and the four men begin to squirm, much like kids called into the principle's office. Finally Tor walks around his desk and stands in front of the group. He begins to speak... "Boys, the boat is sinking and no matter how much we bail...it's gonna go down like a rock. What we have to do is fix the leak AND bail out the water at the same time." "Sir if you will allow us....." Tor cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "No. I will not 'allow' you. You are hear to listen, not to talk; the problem is, you have been 'allowed' for way too long. Now sit there, shut up, and get your marching orders." The four men looked shocked and angry, but they remained silent. "As I was saying....the boat has a hole in it and is sinking, now we got to fix it. You will get your money for a bail-out but there are strings attached. Effective immediately, Executives in each of your companies will have a restructured salary. None of you will make more than 50% more than your workers in your factories. All bonuses, from now on will be applied to paying back this LOAN I am about to give you. In addition, you will be forced to sell 75% of the stock you have been given as a bonus and that money will also be used to pay back this loan. I suggest that if any of you have not already paid off your home, you might look into moving into one more affordable for the foreseeable future." The three auto makers looked stunned, their faces white as sheets as they considered their future. The Union leader, on the other hand was smiling. He liked what he was hearing...bout time the fat cats had to pay, he thought. The new President noticed the Union leader's smug look. "If I was you, Bubba, I wouldn't look so happy. Those same rules will apply to you and all the union bosses in your organization. Besides that, your workers will now look forward to ONE raise a year and that raise will be no more than .30 cents an hour and only if their job performance merits that raise. No more bonuses for you folks either. Your workers will receive a paycheck for the work they do and they better by God learn to live within that paycheck until the industry is back on its feet." The Union leader looked as though someone had shot him. In fact he was wondering if that might not happen when he brought this news back to the rank and file of his Union. The President gave him a moment to think about what he had said, then he continued. "Gentlemen, like I said before, this boat is sinking and we not only have to fix the hole, we are BY GOD, going to fix that damn hole. Everybody concerned is going to have to learn to live on less, to tighten their belts, and 'GET ER DONE' to quote one of my favorite philosophers, Larry the Cable Guy. There will be no more feeding at the hog trough for anybody and everyone involved will now have to sacrifice until the boat is fixed....do I make myself clear?" The room is silent. The Union leader and the three Auto makers can do nothing but stare in disbelief. The President smiles. "Good, I'm glad you understand. CC would you mind showing these 'Gentlemen' out then call in those damned bankers....we got to have us another Come-to-Jesus meeting with those ole boys too." FADE TO BLACK....... So in answer to your question Ken...Yes I would bail them out, but only if they agreed that it would not be "business as usual". Like the rest of the people in this world, when faced with financial problems, belts have to be tightened and things have to be done without. Things would have to change drastically. |
| I had planned on writing this entry for Veteran's day but time constraints forced me to change my plans so I have decided to go ahead and do it this morning. By its very definition, Veterans mean someone who has lived through a particular event or experience. One can be a "veteran" of many different things and we, as a nation, pay homage to one type of veteran....the war veteran. Now this, I believe is well and good and has a rightful place in our yearly holiday observances, but there is another type of "Veteran" I would like to pay homage to today. I began to think about this subject during the last election, when I observed the youth of this nation being energized by the words of the young, charismatic, Democratic candidate for President. I was rather bemused to realize that I had seen all this before. That's what happens when you live too long as I have done....you see history start to repeat itself. I watched on TV as college students took to the streets to proclaim their advocacy for Obama and I watched those young faces in the crowds when he spoke.....hanging on every word and I was transported back to another time. I was twelve years old and sitting in front of our tiny black and white television on January 20, 1961 when another young, charismatic, politician was being sworn in as the new President of the United States of America. I listened to words that moved even a twelve year old and I was in awe of the man as he uttered those fateful words: "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country." I do not believe that even Kennedy had any idea how those words would resonate with a whole generation of American youth. I don't think he ever dreamed of how those words would mold and guide so many young people even years after his death at the hands of an assassin in Dallas, Texas. So it was that at the age of 18, with those words still ringing in my mind, I chose to serve my country in the only way in which a poor, uneducated youth is able to serve...as cannon fodder in the military. But that is not the type of veteran I think about today. No, today I am remembering those other veterans; the young men and women who took to the streets during the turbulent 60's and 70's in the name of "Change". So any of my younger readers out there who have made it this far in the entry, fear not. I am not babbling again of that old war like some one-trick pony. I want you to stop and think a moment about those brave young people who came before you, who marched for equality for all men and women, who took to the streets to demand justice for the poor and disenfranchised among the population. When you consider changing the world, think for a moment of the accomplishments of those other youths....young people who are now middle-aged members of the establishment you tend to dismiss so easily. Think about the CHANGE which they brought about... Change such as the Equal Rights Amendment, the historic court case of Roe vs. Wade and Miranda. Think about the change brought about in Equal Rights for Women. In short, think about what this country was like before they took to the streets for change. The decades of the 60's and 70's saw great change in this nation and a lot of it was because of the words of a dead man who never saw the changes take place. The changes took place because of the dedication and the passion of young people who demanded change. There is no "Veteran's Day" for these people. They live, for the most part, anonymous lives now alone with their memories. The thing is, though I did not always agree with their tactics and at times I found myself on completely opposite sides with those protesters and even the subject of some of their protests....in spite of all that...I have the utmost respect for what they accomplished. So I beg of you...please.....the next time you feel the need to pay lip-service to Veterans of war, give a moment to think about those other veterans. Give a thank you to those youthful warriors for change from bygone days who did so much to change the country and make it a place where you can feel comfortable in your protests today. To you veterans who took to the streets so long ago....I salute you. There is one I know of for sure on this site, who was a part of that army of youth and that is Carolina Blue   . I salute you, sir. We stood on different sides back then, but I know your heart was in the right place and you did so much more to serve this country than this ole cowboy ever dreamed of doing. You and all your compatriots deserve their own day.....maybe that will be a part of the "Change" these young ones are going to bring to us. |
| And so it came to pass that on the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, the guns fell silent over the blasted landscape of Europe and the "War to end all Wars" came to an end..... Until, twenty-one years later Europe exploded into war again and five years later the guns fell silent again..... Until five years later and America and the United Nations found themselves embroiled in Korea....three years later the guns fell silent again.... Until twelve years later and American marched into Vietnam and the maelstrom raged....eight years and 58,000 American deaths later, America's part was done and two years after that the guns fell silent once more..... Until seventeen years later and the first Gulf war followed over a decade later by the second......and the guns continue. The only war that there will ever be truly the "War to end all wars" will be the war in which no man survives. Until that time men will answer the bugle's call and when the guns fall silent they will take on the title of "Veteran". So here's to those who came before and to those yet born who will one day wear the title......When next the guns fall silent, let there be a longer time before they waken again. |
| For the past two hours I have struggled to write this entry. I wanted to use the above title and introduce you to a man who became a member of my family through marriage to my niece, the daughter of my older brother. That brother died when I was twelve and he left behind a two year old daughter....my niece. The man I wanted to tell you about was a Coon-Ass. For you sensitive types out there and for the Politically Correct among you...a Cajun. Even though Big Frank, as he was known by all who knew him, was ten years my junior, he quickly became like a kid brother to me. He was a big man, as his nickname suggests. Though only about five foot, ten inches tall, he was built like a solid chunk of granite. He weighed over two hundred and twenty pounds in his prime and was a force to be reckoned with. Even though Frank was a phonically intimidating figure, he always sported this warm, genuine smile that welcomed all who came around him. I was going to show you...with my words....how the title of this entry so exemplified the man Big Frank was: "Laissez les Bon Temps Roulez"....Let the Good Times Roll! Yes, he loved to party and he loved to laugh but most of all he loved his wife and his family. I was going to recount some of the crazy things Frank and I did when we first met. He was in his "wild phase" and I was coming to the end of my own. I was going to make you laugh, or at least smile. I tried, I really did. But, tell me, how does one make another laugh or smile when inside one is numb? I got home at almost midnight last night and was greeted at the door by Mel who gave me a big hug and then broke the news to me...."Honey, Big Frank died yesterday." So there you have it....a good man is dead at the unholy age of 49. Another chunk of me has left this earth and I set here and wonder...why? Why, God do you keep me on this earth while you allow men I love and respect to be cut down decades before their time? Well hell, if I had the answers to those damn questions I wouldn't be making a living working as a People greeter at a freaking Wal-Mart would I. Frank Tomlinson....age at death 49, left behind his wife Donna, three children and three grandchildren....and friends who loved him. Rest in Peace my "little brother" and save me a seat at whatever heavenly fishing hole you find. |
| Have you ever tried to find the humor in the world around you? I mean....really, where did all our humor go? I have been sitting here this morning and trying to think about things that make me laugh, that brightens my spirits, or just causes me to smile a little. On the National Scene.....With the election of Barak Obama as President of the United States, the doors of Diversity have been thrown wide open. I got to wondering what this will mean for future elections. I can foresee the day...maybe in four years...when we will have a Mexican-American with an American-Indian, female running mate, pitted against an Arab-American candidate with a French Midget as a running mate. Now that would be interesting! A thought just came to me.....Now wouldn't it be interesting to have a Deaf-Mute win the election. Even if he doesn't win, just think how different his campaign speeches would be. Standing there on a stage in Ohio before thousands of people, he would be using sign language while off to the side an interpreter would be translating into a microphone. The audience would have no need to cheer, since the candidate couldn't hear it anyway....they would just all hold up signs saying: CHEER!! Now can you imagine what would happen if the deaf-mute won the election. Six months after taking office, there would be a crisis over his proposed tariff on Vodka from Russia. The Russian leader would threaten war, the American leader would panic and try to reach his Russian counterpart via the "Hot Line". "RING....RING...RING..." "Hello. Vladimer Punchapumkin speaking, how may I help you today?" "ARRAUGH, OOKHALA, ARGHULA." Vladimer quickly covers the mouth-piece and turns to his assembled generals who are standing behind him. "MOTHER OF LENIN, THE MANIAC IS GOING TO LAUNCH HIS MISSLES," he screams. Yes....something was lost in translation. Yup, it is important for us to find and keep our sense of humor about us now isn't it. I hope you all find something to laugh about today, and if you don't, well just come in here and laugh at me......I don't mind at all. |
| I was not sure I would blog this month, indeed I was not even sure I would be blogging again period, but how could I possibly let such an historic day pass by without making comment. Yes, yesterday was historic and that is a good thing. No, my candidate did not win, but hell, that isn't the first time that ever happened either. Let's set aside the "historic" part of the night for a moment and dwell upon how wonderful it has been to see the youth of this nation once again energized and engaged in the election process. This has not happened in this sort of scale since JFK and I applaud the fact that high school and college students have embraced politics without it being made first into a video game. I seriously hope and pray that their enthusiasm stays with them for the rest of their lives. I truly wish I could experience that sort of evangelical zeal myself but, alas, age has taken its toll and I can no longer buy into the rhetoric of a candidate. The truth of the matter is, that historically a candidate will tell the public whatever it takes to get elected but once they gain ANY office, those campaign promises usually fall by the wayside. I do hope this is not the case with Mr. Obama....I really do. Skimming down the blog page this morning and using the "Blog Peeker", I ran across statements like: "I am so happy!" "I am so proud, I am crying!" "Yah,Yah, Yah!" I hope all of you are able to remain this happy for the next four years. Yes, it was a historic day indeed. I even read where the folks in Britain were just pleased as punch that America has entered a new enlightened era by electing a black president and they applaud us. Well it just made me giddy all over that we have finally done something that has met with Europe's approval and I await with great expectations, the time when Britain follows us into that "enlightened circle" and elects a black prime minister, then we Americans can sound just as condescending in our congratulations of them. And now a final, personal word about this election. As historic as the day was, the truth of the matter is that the man I voted for did not win.....but that's okay, it's what America is all about. Mr. Obama, though I disagree with him on almost every topic, is now MY president and I will respect him as the holder of that office. I learned many years ago that although I may disagree with my officer, I salute the uniform, not the man, though on a few rare and wonderful occasions, I was able to salute both. So you will never see me calling the man names or being personally nasty and for those of you out there who have spent the last four years or more calling our last president every name in the book, I ask you to remember your behavior during that time. When others, over the next four years,. begin to do the same thing to your president I hope you will understand that they are doing the same thing you did.....exercising their freedom of speech. So the historic day has occurred and now we all await the coronation in January. I figure that by March all our problems will be over...right? I am glad I got to live long enough to see this day, and I look forward to everything that will follow in the next four years. I love America. |
| Just a quick note here to let everyone know I am okay. I want to thank you all for the phone calls and the concern many of you have shown. Nada, CC, please forgive me for not returning your calls when I got home from work but I was just wasted. I have to get back up at five in the morning and do it all over again as I am in the midst of six straight at work before I get another day off. So I think I will drag what is left of me off to bed. Thank you all again for your thoughts. |
| Don't you hate it when your body rebels; I know I do. Yesterday, while sitting in the break-room, having my lunch, I experienced a pain in my chest which radiated all the way through to my back. It almost knocked me out of my chair, it was so bad, and left me with tears in my eyes. The pain was over within seconds, but it seemed like hours....funny how that works. I finished out the day but by the time I made it home around eight-thirty last night, it was all I could do to stand upright. I went to bed by ten and slept straight through until ten this morning. Now I am telling you all this stupid crap by way of explaining why I may not be around the blog page for a bit. I have tried to read blogs today but my brain is just too fogged over to concentrate. Just writing this few paragraphs has been an absolute chore. So I am going to go back to bed, or to my comfortable chair, and try to get myself together so I can go to work tomorrow. I will see you guys when my body decides to cooperate with my tiny mind once more. |
| I am heading to work early this morning so I decided to leave you with a bit of "Church Humor" just to help you through your day. Enjoy! During the service, the pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise for prayers which had been answered. A lady stood up and came forward. She said, "I have a reason to thank the Lord. Two months ago, my husband, Jim, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know if they could help him." You could hear an audible gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that poor Jim experienced. She continued, "Jim was unable to hold me or the children and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation. They were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Jim's scrotum and wrap wire around it to hold it in place." Again, the men in the Congregation squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Jim. She continued, "Now, Jim is out of the hospital and the doctors say, with time, his scrotum should recover completely." All the men sighed with relief. The pastor rose and tentatively asked if any one else had anything to say. A man rose and walked slowly to the podium. He said, "I'm Jim and I would like to tell my wife, the word is 'sternum'". |
| I find myself in a rather historic position today. I am actually moved to blog about something my baby brother, Mongo did right. That is surely a sign of the Second Coming. Now as many of you who regularly drop into this blog space might know, Mongo's previous claim to fame is the fact that, if you look up the word Stupid in the dictionary, you find an 8X10 glossy of him. All of that has changed now, it would seem. You see, Mongo is the father of three children; two girls, both grown now, and one son who is a mere Sophomore in high school. The boy's name is Jake and he was what you might call an "Oops Baby", who came along rather late in life for Mongo. Of course I have always held that ANY child Mongo manages to father has to be an Oops Baby cause it has to have been an accident that he managed to complete the whole conception process. Be that as it may, my nephew, Jake is now in his second year of High School and he has blossomed into something of a Football phenom. The boy is the starting quarterback of his team. He is a mere 16 years old and already stands 6' 3" tall and weighs in at 215 pounds. Jake has led his team to an undefeated season and is poised to go into the State playoffs as a favorite to win the title. The other night Mongo, the proud, albeit confused parent, sent me a film clip of Jake in action. After watching the aforementioned clip which clearly featured Jake making moves I haven't seen since the last time I watched a Pro game, I had some questions for Mongo. Chief among those questions was: "Okay, who the hell is his real father?" Of course I called Mongo and posed this question to him whereupon he broke up laughing. "That has been a standing joke in the family all year." he assured me. "Whenever the boy makes a great play I always point to it as proof positive that Linda (his wife) has been unfaithful at least once since we were married." "Yeah, well as far as I'm concerned, she must have cheated three times cause both the girls were better athletes than you EVER were." I told him. You have to understand, both Mongo and myself played sports but we never reached anywhere close to the level Jake has already managed. It could of course, be because our off-season weight-training regime consisted mainly of power-lifting 32 oz "Big Boy" bottles of beer and smoking cheap cigars, staying up all night playing poker and chasing skirts. Jake, on the other hand, actually takes this stuff seriously and does none of our own types of training...he actually lifts weights and runs! As if the boy's athletic ability wasn't proof that a stray bull had gotten into Mongo's pasture, we also have to consider Jake's performance in school. The boy is top of his class academically and a member of the National Honor Society! Folks, this is the first time in the long, storied, history of the McClain clan that any one by that name has ever been mentioned in the same sentence with the National Honor Society, much less been a dang member of that organization. So you see, all things considered, the evidence is overwhelming: Mongo's wife did indeed cheat on him. All I have to say to that is: "WAY TO GO MONGO! You finally did something right." Mongo and I put our heads together the other night as we talked it over via the phone and we decided that, in a perfect world, Jake will turn pro, get signed by one of the NFL teams, and then be in the perfect position to introduce his daddy and his uncle to some of them Pro Cheerleaders!  |
| Did you ever have a day start out in the Crapper and all you had to look forward to is it getting worse instead of better? Well today has turned out to be just such a day. First, a little back story would be in order, just so you can get the full extent of just how crappy today will be for me. I worked until almost midnight last night, then endured the half-hour drive home. Once home, I could not just go directly to bed, but had to unwind. I read blogs, watched a little TV, and played a bit of Xbox. The next thing I know, it is three a.m. and I am finally ready for sleep. Did I mention that today is my day off? Well it is, and I had every intention of sleeping until noon...at least. It was not to be. Nope, didn't happen. Instead I found myself wide awake by eight in the morning. The reason I was awake was because of this horrible dream I was having. I was being chased through the country-side by the dreaded Politically Correct Police. It seems that I was #1 on their most wanted list for High Crimes and Misdemeanors, and attacks upon the Civility and Sensitivity of the nation. My picture was hanging in every post office and Sensitivity Training Center in America. Well, in the dream, every time the PC Police would get close to catching me, I would stop running, turn on my pursuers and begin to yell Politically Incorrect insults at them. "Hey is that your baby brother, or is he a DWARF!" "Yore Mamma is FAT, and yore Daddy is a RETARD!" It worked every time. They would be forced, due to their own stupid law, to stop after listening to stuff like that, and attend a mandatory two hour Sensitivity Seminar. This would give me the chance to escape! So anyway I finally woke up....waaaay too early. The dream had already left me in a foul mood and I staggered into the kitchen and grabbed my first cup of coffee of the day. I took my giant coffee mug and made my way to my desk and opened up WDC to the Blog Page. I must have been into my second or third blog and was just beginning to clear the cobwebs from my brain, when all hell broke loose. The early morning peace and quiet was shattered by a loud and continuous banging on my front door that threatened to shake it from its hinges! I had not seen anyone approach my front porch, nor had the dogs uttered a peep and this sudden banging scared the crap outta me. One minute I am sitting quietly in my undies, reading and sipping coffee and the next instant I find myself jumping straight up out of my chair, knocking over a FULL mug of coffee all over my desk, and yelling like a girl. I swear, the first thing that went through my mind was: "Those damn PC Policemen have found me!" So there I stood, shaking and covered in hot coffee, my desk covered in hot coffee, my computer covered in hot coffee, and two of the four dogs covered in hot coffee...and someone was STILL POUNDING ON THE DAMN DOOR! I lost it. I knocked my chair over, kicked a coffee covered dog out of the way, and stormed into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of pants. I shoved my legs into the pants letting them soak up the excess coffee from my body, turned to Mel and said: "If that is your sister, you are about to be an only child." I stomped back into the living room, grabbed the front doorknob and yanked the door open, ready to rip someones head off and spit down the hole! And there stood little Jessie. All four foot nothing of her, weighing maybe 60lbs, soaking wet with a brick in her pocket...little Jessie. She is nine years old and lives next door. "What Jessie?" My voice trembled with the effort to remain calm and not scream at her as she looked up at me with that sweet, innocent little smile. "Hi Mr. David," she said in that bright little voice of her's. "Did Mrs Melinda decide what candles she wanted to order yet?" This left me completely bumfuzzled....I had no idea what she was talking about. Thankfully, by this time, Mel was out of bed and had rushed into the room....she probably figured she needed to save a life or sumptin. I left her to deal with Jessie and I retreated to the bathroom to get a few dirty towels to use to sop up ALL THE DAMN COFFEE OFF MY DESK!!! So, dear readers that is how my morning began and now it is almost noon and I have to rush around because no one bothered to tell me that the time in which we have to go over to a cousin's house and meet up with a bunch of people I have never seen before HAS BEEN CHANGED FROM THREE IN THE AFTERNOON TO.....NOON!!!! Yup....this day is gonna go to hell in a hand basket. If I live through it without getting hurt by Mel, I will be back. Oh hell, we all know I'm gonna get hurt no matter what. I just can not keep my mouth shut. Maybe she will have to tell you about it. |
| We all do it don't we. We all use the term: "Idiots". The problem with using this term is that it covers so very many people that sometimes one loses sight of just what a real Idiot is. Let me help you with that, if I can. 1. If you believe that if you oppose McCain then you are un-american and not patriotic, then you are an Idiot. 2. If you believe that anyone who opposes Obama is a racist, then you are an Idiot. 3. If you believe that there is ANYONE in Congress that lays awake at night and worries about how they can help their constituents back home, then you my friend, are an Idiot. 4. If you believe that there is more than a nickel's worth of difference between Republicans and Democrats, then you are an Idiot. 5. If you believe that this country is NOT ruled by big corporations, but by an elected officials, then you are an Idiot. 6.No matter who wins, if you believe that things will get better because of their election, then you are an Idiot. 7. And finally, dear reader.....If you believe that age brings wisdom then you are an Idiot. If you do not believe this, just look at this writer...my life proves my point! You see, this is what I hate about the election process. Every four years we are given a choice between Bad and Worse and are asked to choose our own poison. Not once are we given any REAL choice. What this does is causes us to merely highlight our own idiocy when we go along with the process. So in a couple of weeks it will be over and we can remove the "I am an Idiot" sign from our foreheads and go back to pretending we ever really had a choice in the path our country travels. Thank you. |
| My good buddy, PlannerDan did a very deep and thought provoking blog entry today about being rudderless on the Sea of Life. Dan, buddy, it's called Middle-aged Angst...we all get it at a certain age; hell, I am wallowing in it myself. We reach a certain age...mine started when I turned 50....when we suddenly realize that we somehow got shuffled onto the slow lane of Life's traffic. Everything in our life has become predictable and about as much fun as watching paint dry. We begin to crave the excitement of our youth; the uncertainty of driving full speed on a curving mountain road. We yearn for the times when we felt good throwing ourselves into the unknown with a confidence that we could handle whatever came our way. We crave the Challenge youth afforded us at every turn. It is bad enough to have to deal with these issues, at this age, but add to that the dirty tricks our mind plays on us and it is downright discouraging. Yes, the mind can really do a number on us old guys. Let me give you a "for instance"..... 1. Faulty Mind Mirror.....Yup, that's right, the mind will do that to some of us old codgers. We look at ourselves we don't see some middle-aged, old man who has to mind his fiber and get his exercise. Nope, what I see is totally different. I look into that mind mirror and I see this cocky, strong and self-assured 19 year old kid, swaggering down a street in Bangkok or riding his horse bareback at a full gallop; racing his buddy to the swimming hole. I see a young man ready to sweep any woman off her feet and rock her world, or fight any asshole who challenges him. Either one gave equal pleasure. Actually buying in to any one of those faulty images, for any length of time would land this old bird in a world of hurt today and on some level I understand that, and that is what causes the angst, I believe. I see that image of myself and then I look at the reality of the thing....not good. The truth of the matter is, I wouldn't be caught dead now within a thousand miles of Bangkok. As for riding bareback at a full gallop, racing anyone...well I would last about ten feet before I hit the ground....HARD. Oh and as for sweeping anything young and female off her feet...well methinks I would need a pole to trip them first and "rocking her world" would have to be accomplished within the first two minutes or they better have a defibrillator handy! Fighting at a challenge? HA! Nowadays I would have to wait until their back is turned and hit them with a chair...then be prepared to run. So you see, that is the problem; the mind reminds us of who we were and what we did in the past and sometimes gives us a distorted view of ourselves. It is those real mirrors that do not lie. We are old codgers Dan and we are stuck in the slow lane. But, like my buddy Dan, there are times I yearn to strike out into the unknown again, to feel the adrenalin pumping, and meeting a challenge and winning. I guess we can take some solace in the fact that our own particular brand of Angst has that Teenage crap beat all hollow! YEAH! LET'S HEAR IT FOR OLD CODGER ANGST!! |
| ATTENTION: Do you want to be a reporter? Well if you want to be a star reporter/columnist for the Blogville News please contact me via email. The pieces you will be asked to write will be fairly short; maximum of 600 words. For this effort you will receive 10,000 GP's or a Merit Badge....your choice. If I have no responses and if no one wants to contribute to the newsletter, I will conclude that interest in a Newsletter for Bloggers is not enough and I will put said newsletter to bed for good. Its fate is completely up to you, the bloggers. Now, I know I have just broken some sort of blogging rule by blogging twice in one day but.....well...there ya go! I look forward to hearing from all of you and I am eager, if there is interest, to continue the Blogville News. I would like to have an edition ready by Nov. 17th if all goes well. Thank you for your interest and just scroll down for my other entry...Oh, and I promise...no more entries today. |
| From time to time one must be willing to think outside the box, to step over the boundaries of their comfort zone. Being the true Renaissance Man, a Man for all Seasons, I am always ready to leave my own comfort zone and explore new horizons. Thus it was that I found myself wandering down the Wine Isle last night after work. I had decided, while at work, that maybe it was time to change my routine a bit and have a nice glass of wine to unwind after work. Of course, being an hourly wage slave, I was unable to get the really good stuff, the wine with an honest to God cap on the bottle. I had to settle for a little Cabernet Sauvignon by Woodbridge, a nice California wine but instead of a cap on the bottle, they had this cheap piece of wood stuck in the top. On the bright side, the grapes were guaranteed to have only been stomped by Politically Correct feet on a farm outside the People's Republic of Berkley. Mel rolled her eyes at me when I got out of the car, at home, carrying the wine. "Yo, Baby," I yelled at her as she stood on the porch to greet me. "We are gonna up the 'Class' factor around the McClain household tonight." I waved the bottle of wine in her direction. I handed her the wine and was quite proud of myself for remembering: "Oh you need to take that in the house and get that dang chunk of wood out of it....the wine needs to BREATHE." I sounded like one of them dang wine-taster-expert-fellas. "You mean, you want me to decant the wine." Mel said. "No, you don't have to go to all that trouble, just open the bottle."  ----Mel.So after a wonderful meal of Sweet and Sour Chicken and broccoli, I settled back in my easy chair with my trusty plastic mug full of wine and enjoyed an episode of The Unit. I tell you what, I was feeling downright Liberal by the end of the evening and I finally made my way to bed secure in the knowledge that I was capable of stepping outside the box at the drop of the hat! |
| It has been just over a year since I made the move to Missouri from Texas. Wow, a whole year.....how time flies when you're setting on a a nail.....wait...that's not right...well you know what I mean. It was a year of "firsts" for me. This was the first summer in my whole life that I never once turned on the car air-conditioner. The hottest day of the summer, according to the natives, was merely mildly warm to me. I found it somewhat disconcerting that I was able to work outside in the yard all day, in July and hardly break a sweat. Back home, had I lapsed into a moment of insanity and tried to work outside in July, I would have lasted about an hour before Life-Flight landed to rush me to the nearest hospital, or failing that, would have just dropped me into the river in hopes it would stop the advanced MELTING that I would be suffering from. Of course there is a flip side to that coin. For the first time in my life I experienced driving in snow, ice, sleet, and sludge...AT THE SAME FREAKING TIME! For the first time in my life I discovered a new hidden talent which I possessed....I found that I was quite adept at balancing my butt on a space heater, while typing a blog entry. I discovered, for the first time, the true meaning of "A Three Dog Night." as it took three dogs in bed with me just to keep ice from forming on my body. Yes, for the first time ever, I did battle with my nemesis, Cold, and I screamed like a girl and surrendered. Now it wasn't all bad, no indeed. I have also, for the first time, experienced four seasons. Back in Texas we have two....Summer and Pre-summer. Hell, before I moved here, I thought the Four Seasons was a backup group for Frankie Valie...who knew! They tell me that now we are in the middle of the Fall season, but I have my own thoughts about that. This is not really Fall, it is actually PRE-WINTER! Did I mention that I am back, setting on that damn space heater this morning? Well I am...gawd! |
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