I totally forgot to write in my blog yesterday. I could blame that I wasn't feeling well, and that I went to bed at 8 pm last night and slept to almost that same time today. Another thing that I have herd writers say is to write about the same time, in the same place. Don't know if I can do that. If I was a real writer, as in that was my only job, yeah. But I will try. I also often just write when the mood strikes.
So far I have had three of my blog entries appear on MyMissourian.com, and one was even in print; before the Saturday edition was discontinued.
Considering that I had a couple, and yes I can almost remember them dreams last night, the definitely means I am not feeling well. Now if I can only remember them long enough to write them down and see if they sound as good aloud as they did in my head.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Day 56
You gotta love when old friends get together and reminisce. Especially after having a few. And then thinking they need to reach out and touch another via the phone. Or that they are easily distract from having imbibed too much. Technology! Love hearing from Old Boys even if they are in Boca Raton, and having a great time....wishing I was there with them!
As I have said; even after not seeing these guys in over 24 years, it doesn't make a different. We are still family. And to hear they are doing well, warms me. To be brought up to date one some others; like one who has passed, is a sad duty. But a necessary one. Its a briefing. And then the lifting of spirits to absent comrades is another.
Great talking to you guys!
As I have said; even after not seeing these guys in over 24 years, it doesn't make a different. We are still family. And to hear they are doing well, warms me. To be brought up to date one some others; like one who has passed, is a sad duty. But a necessary one. Its a briefing. And then the lifting of spirits to absent comrades is another.
Great talking to you guys!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Day 55
It has been a while since I ordered pizza, and I guess some things have changed. Oh well, everything changes I guess.
67 was the high for today, and suppose to be nice tomorrow; until it rains.
Going through an old series that I had; its cheese, but for some reason its what I need. Feel very much drawn and compelled to read them. One thing I have noticed about books. 30 years ago, books were cheap, thin and yet the type was small, so that you really got your money's worth. These days, paperback are thicker, cost more and are bigger type than those in the old days. Oh well, another mystery.
67 was the high for today, and suppose to be nice tomorrow; until it rains.
Going through an old series that I had; its cheese, but for some reason its what I need. Feel very much drawn and compelled to read them. One thing I have noticed about books. 30 years ago, books were cheap, thin and yet the type was small, so that you really got your money's worth. These days, paperback are thicker, cost more and are bigger type than those in the old days. Oh well, another mystery.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Day 54
Long day, tired, depressed, lonely, scared. All the things for the mid-winter blahs and an approaching birthday. Age doesn't mean anything to me. And I do have two friends coming in for the weekend, but still. Would be nice to have someone special. That's the bitch about being single; holidays, birthdays, etc.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Day 54 - Oscar Who?
I remember when it happened. I was at home on the farm, at night watching TV. It was either Miss America or Miss Universe or something like that. I was sure the one I like was going to win. She had answered the questions great, she looked good, etc. I was so sure. And then someone else won. How could they? You had to be kidding me! After that, I have had no desire to watch any contest like that ever again. Yeah, no American Idol. And definitely no Oscars.
Since I like older movies and older Hollywood, I looked at how Oscar got started and this whole business. And the movies, from the Golden Days of Hollywood, for the majority, I liked. The actors and actresses also were great. Now, there are Oscars for things I have never heard and to be honest, don't care. I remember when movies had short credits, BEFORE the movie started. When The End showed up, it was the end. Or maybe a two screen recap of the actors/actresses.
Lately there has been very little that I would consider Oscar worthy, and the ones that did win, I never saw. I had no interest in most of them. A few I will probably catch on dvd. And the funny thing is, like The Dark Knight, which is supposedly right up my alley, as I like Batman, I have NO desire to see. How many times and how many re-makes are we to endure? The original Superman was good. But after a few sequels it went down hill. How many different Batmans have we had? And don't even get me started on The Hulk or even Spiderman. Yeah I got an opinion on them also.
But, as a friend and I were having pizza and discussing movies and the books they came from, he had a point that you can only put so much in a movie from a book. Also, that you had to jazz it up a bit. True, but then it changes what the movie is all about, in my opinion.
So to those who watch the Oscars and all the, ahem, movies that they watch, if you got them all right is akin to picking all the right guys on your fantasy football league. While you may laugh at me for playing a video game and getting 80th level, my only comment is, that I actually did play that to that obscene level. What did you do? Spend $8.50 and 2 hours of your time to guess what movie will win? Here it is: find the most outrageous movie about something that, until now, you didn't know about-be a social stigma or foreign country, with stars that you had never heard of or were so sick of hearing from, and those are potential winners.
Am I stuck in the past? Maybe. Do I know what I like. most definitely. I made the comment recently about a movie with Carey Grant. I think the student knew who I meant, but had never seen the movie. You still can't beat Wizard of Oz or Gone With the Wind, (GWtW beat out OZ for the 1939 Best Picture). Clark Gable, John Wayne and others.... no one today can hold a candle to them. Sound like I should be in my 60's huh? Nope, just 45. I just know what I like.
Hey, it is people's opinion. Am I trying to bring down Oscar or get a re-vote? Nope. I just go to see what I want, knowing that any movie that I really like, that I would pay a ridiculous amount to see in the theatre and then buy on dvd, will never get so much as a nod from Oscar. I can live with that. Just don't ask me to watch a show like that; which it seems reality tv has also taken over verses good tv. Luckily there is cable with USA and other network that have good shows that don't involve anyone being voted off an island or their singing and dreams being put down. Do we really like seeing people destroy other people's dreams? I guess so, as the number of people who watch those shows are sure high.
So no more remakes please! Cut down on the artsy stuff. Some of us are just simple country boys from the farm who, while it maybe inspirational in another country, would like to see something I can relate too. Is it too much for a simple western these days? And for the so called stars these days; none of you are like the giants, whose shoulders you stand on. They stood for something. Nowadays, you stand for whats convenient. You raise money for your causes, go on talk shows and talk, talk & talk. But I have seen very few actually open their checkbooks. One notable exception is Denzel Washington, who made a sizable donation to a military hospital.
So have I already started to chase kids out of my yard and need a walker? Nope. Am I out of step? With the music today, short of using a Twister map, I would be hard pressed to find it. Again, that's just not my thing. And is it too loud? No, except at 2 am when I am trying to sleep.
What I am saying is that everyone has an opinion. I have learned that mine, these days, just never seem to be what everyone thinks-or at least that's what they say. Have I gotten to the conspiracy stage? Hmmmmm... could be. Some of these movies, shows and music, I think, would only be enjoyable by someone from another planet. Maybe we should check the judges and reviewers of these shows. Who knows? Where exactly IS Simon from?
Since I like older movies and older Hollywood, I looked at how Oscar got started and this whole business. And the movies, from the Golden Days of Hollywood, for the majority, I liked. The actors and actresses also were great. Now, there are Oscars for things I have never heard and to be honest, don't care. I remember when movies had short credits, BEFORE the movie started. When The End showed up, it was the end. Or maybe a two screen recap of the actors/actresses.
Lately there has been very little that I would consider Oscar worthy, and the ones that did win, I never saw. I had no interest in most of them. A few I will probably catch on dvd. And the funny thing is, like The Dark Knight, which is supposedly right up my alley, as I like Batman, I have NO desire to see. How many times and how many re-makes are we to endure? The original Superman was good. But after a few sequels it went down hill. How many different Batmans have we had? And don't even get me started on The Hulk or even Spiderman. Yeah I got an opinion on them also.
But, as a friend and I were having pizza and discussing movies and the books they came from, he had a point that you can only put so much in a movie from a book. Also, that you had to jazz it up a bit. True, but then it changes what the movie is all about, in my opinion.
So to those who watch the Oscars and all the, ahem,
Am I stuck in the past? Maybe. Do I know what I like. most definitely. I made the comment recently about a movie with Carey Grant. I think the student knew who I meant, but had never seen the movie. You still can't beat Wizard of Oz or Gone With the Wind, (GWtW beat out OZ for the 1939 Best Picture). Clark Gable, John Wayne and others.... no one today can hold a candle to them. Sound like I should be in my 60's huh? Nope, just 45. I just know what I like.
Hey, it is people's opinion. Am I trying to bring down Oscar or get a re-vote? Nope. I just go to see what I want, knowing that any movie that I really like, that I would pay a ridiculous amount to see in the theatre and then buy on dvd, will never get so much as a nod from Oscar. I can live with that. Just don't ask me to watch a show like that; which it seems reality tv has also taken over verses good tv. Luckily there is cable with USA and other network that have good shows that don't involve anyone being voted off an island or their singing and dreams being put down. Do we really like seeing people destroy other people's dreams? I guess so, as the number of people who watch those shows are sure high.
So no more remakes please! Cut down on the artsy stuff. Some of us are just simple country boys from the farm who, while it maybe inspirational in another country, would like to see something I can relate too. Is it too much for a simple western these days? And for the so called stars these days; none of you are like the giants, whose shoulders you stand on. They stood for something. Nowadays, you stand for whats convenient. You raise money for your causes, go on talk shows and talk, talk & talk. But I have seen very few actually open their checkbooks. One notable exception is Denzel Washington, who made a sizable donation to a military hospital.
So have I already started to chase kids out of my yard and need a walker? Nope. Am I out of step? With the music today, short of using a Twister map, I would be hard pressed to find it. Again, that's just not my thing. And is it too loud? No, except at 2 am when I am trying to sleep.
What I am saying is that everyone has an opinion. I have learned that mine, these days, just never seem to be what everyone thinks-or at least that's what they say. Have I gotten to the conspiracy stage? Hmmmmm... could be. Some of these movies, shows and music, I think, would only be enjoyable by someone from another planet. Maybe we should check the judges and reviewers of these shows. Who knows? Where exactly IS Simon from?
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Day 53
Cold, but sunny today. This weather is really affecting me. I take more naps and sleep more than I used too, but feel no different. Energy isn't as high as I would like it. What has been happening is that I have had old friends come out of the woodwork on facebook. I mean people I haven't seen or heard from in 25 years. That's so great.
I will touch more on that later. But as you can guess, yeah I am talking about people from Kemper.
I will touch more on that later. But as you can guess, yeah I am talking about people from Kemper.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Day 52
Not much going on. Cold today, but clear. Perfect for hibernation. So, that's what I think I will do. Nitey nite...... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Friday, February 20, 2009
Day 51
A funeral usually brings people back together, and Chief's was no exception. I heard that there were many there, and I am glad for that. I had already said my good-byes, and had even written about it. For those who hadn't had the chance yet, this was theres. It was also a chance to re-connect; and I had a few calls from people that were there. They laughed that there were a lot of brass there. Again, people not familiar with military rank will not understand; but since many of these former cadets had put in 15, 20 and some are still in, you had a lot of full bird colonels and a one star general there. That speaks highly of Chief. My friends, some whom I have not seen or heard from in 25 years calling me, and us picking up where we left off speaks highly of our relationship.
If you haven't figured it out, or if I haven't mentioned it, I am very proud and glad that I went to Kemper. I would not be the person I am today without that experience of the good, good friends I have. Kemper is my family. Outside of a few that I can count on my hands, all my dear friends, who are my family, come from there. When I mention to one of them that some friend who I know is like Kemper, that means they would have done well there. Its a shame that money problems had to lead to Kemper's closure. I had mentioned to someone that they wanted to film the movie "Taps" there, but our president at the time, a retired 2 star general declined. Stating that the move "portrayed the military school as a radical." The ironic thing is that had something like that had happened when I was there along with the others, who know. I do know that after the movie we lost our armory. Coincidence? Read my book (when I write it and it comes out.)
If you haven't figured it out, or if I haven't mentioned it, I am very proud and glad that I went to Kemper. I would not be the person I am today without that experience of the good, good friends I have. Kemper is my family. Outside of a few that I can count on my hands, all my dear friends, who are my family, come from there. When I mention to one of them that some friend who I know is like Kemper, that means they would have done well there. Its a shame that money problems had to lead to Kemper's closure. I had mentioned to someone that they wanted to film the movie "Taps" there, but our president at the time, a retired 2 star general declined. Stating that the move "portrayed the military school as a radical." The ironic thing is that had something like that had happened when I was there along with the others, who know. I do know that after the movie we lost our armory. Coincidence? Read my book (when I write it and it comes out.)
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Day 50 - Chief
I hope you were lucky enough to have a teacher that you kept in contact with and who you respected and admired and were friends. I have had some like that, and want to share some thoughts and memories on one right now. The reason for the now is that he will be buried at Arlington National Cemetery today Februaury 19th. No, he didn't die from our war in Iraq; he had already been through a few of them by now. Time marches on, and some do pass and are buried there who do not fall from enemy action. This is about A.K. Ignacio. To those who knew him from Kemper Military School & College and from his time in the Army, he was "Chief"; to the civilians he was "Iggy." In his Life Story, they call him "Piccolo." Never in all my years of knowing him did I hear that, but the comment to me from others was that he did play that instrument and someone probably took poetic license. Chief would have probably just smiled.
The reason he was Chief, was that he held the rank of Chief Warrant Officer 4. It would take too long to try and explain that rank to those not familiar with military structure, so let me just say this; it is a rank higher than enlisted, and lower than commissioned officers. It is usually for those of a specialized nature; helicopter pilots, bandsmen.... and Chief was a consummate bandsman.
He was also a Pearl Harbor survivor, since he was also a Hawaiian and was there when it was bombed. He went through Korea and Viet Nam, putting over 20 years of service into the United States Army. After he retired from the Army, he became the bandmaster for Kemper Military School & College, in Boonville, Missouri for another 20 years. And that's where I encountered him.
There are stories, many, many stories about Chief. Memories, laughs and so much more that I could write so much and hopefully, no one would be bored. But I will try and keep the ones I am going to share with you brief as Chief would probably be embarrassed; not by the stories but by being in the spotlight.
When you were in the band, Chief was your boss, your father, your friend, everything. The reason was simple; Chief took care of his band. He did when he was in the Army and that translated to Kemper. I did more things with the band that I ever even thought was possible. A parade or road trip once a month was not uncommon. And that was in addition to our normal playing at every mess (three times a day), band practice in the afternoon during the week, and then a pass in review parade at school on Sunday. I remember marching in the American Royal parade, concerts at the Chase Park Plaza in St. Louis, Mizzou homecoming parade in Columbia; we were the 'voice' of Kemper. And we had Chief. To say you would do anything for him would be such a vast understatement. As I said, we went places because we were the band and we were good. Sounds like I am bragging? You're right. I can't talk just about Chief without mentioning some of the others who were in the band. These were young men and women from all over, who were some of the most professional musicians short of the United States military bands I have ever had the privilege of playing with. Their reasons for being at Kemper were their own, but their ability to play music was something else. Couple that with Chief's style and our band had a sound and dedication that was limitless. Example:
As I mentioned, we went all over to play; and not just in this state. We marched at the Cherry Blossom parade in Washington, DC, the Worlds Fair in Knoxville, TN, and we were the official band of the Dallas Grand Prix. But one parade that will always stand out is when we played a division review at Ft. Riley, KS.
A division is approximately 10,000 people with equipment. A division review is what most people think of as a parade around the post or a 'pass in review.' It is a way to show the soldiers and their equipment off. Everything looks good, the band plays, the soldiers march in rank and file and generally show off their shiny things. Their division band also plays. Now, since it takes a while for 10,000 people to march pass one point, the band will usually play at the beginning and then close to the end (this was the way it was in the 80s, so if its changed, forgive me). The First Division band, which I have heard on many occasions, along with ANY military band, are some of the best musicians and the best sounds I have ever heard, is also a large unit. They put out a fantastic sound. We were about a 25 piece band. But we had Chief. And we had trained, for almost anything. So when we were invited to play this review, we did. We played the whole review. Oh we went to drums in between the pieces we played, but we played. This again, is in no way unusual or disrespectful. It just showed that we were as professional as our regular Army counterparts. And had the sound. The one thing Chief always said, if you make a mistake make it loud. So we were never afraid not to play loud. Ok, that in itself is pretty good, but here's the kicker to this story. As we boarded the bus to head back to Kemper, we were told we going to have to play a parade upon our return. Come on now! We had just played a division review! We griped, we complained, we bitched! But Chief said we had to do it. Luckily we had about 4 hours til we got home. And when we got back, we played the parade. There is an old saying that complaining is a soldier's right. It is. But the mark of true professionals is how they handle things. So we bitched. Chief knew what we had gone through; we were tired, our chops were shot. So we did what we always did; we figured a way to do it. Our lead chairs would play some, the seconds would do this, we figured out how to do it, without sacrificing our sound or making Chief look bad. If Chief said it had to be done, it was.
This next one I heard when we honored him at our last reunion weekend. I am so glad we got the chance to really bestow the honors and love he has always known we have had for him. We all got the opportunity to stand up and tell a Chief story. This is from a full colonel who was a cadet at Kemper and from the islands. He said that when he was a new boy, Chief called to see him. He explained how things were and that his final remarks from that meeting was don't embarrass us. Now, fast forward about 20 years later. This cadet has long since graduated, got his commission and was a Army Colonel working at the Pentagon, when he gets a call from Chief.
This Colonel said, when he got the call, he immediately stood up went to attention. You may think that is some poetic license there, but I doubt it. Anyway, Chief was calling him as he was going to be in a Seniors Golf tournament in Virginia. Chief LOVED golf, period. All the time, this former cadet was saying "Yes Chief." And since he was close, he needed him...as a caddie. Without a hesitation, "Yes Chief."
He said, when he hung up the phone, how wondered how he was going to explain to his boss, a two-star general, that he needed time off to go and caddie for a retired CW4.
Chief was a Pearl Harbor survivor, a veteran of the Korean War, the Viet Nam war, 20 years in the US Army, going all over the world, 20 years at a military school going all over the US, a friend, a father, a grandfather, a surrogate father to many cadets, etc. etc. This was Chief A.K. Ignacio.
One last thing; after we would play before a crowd and were getting the applause, Chief would always make sure that the band got the recognition, but he also said with a smile, "Don't applause, throw money."
Chief what you gave us was worth so much more than mere money. Thank you doesn't even begin to cover it.
The reason he was Chief, was that he held the rank of Chief Warrant Officer 4. It would take too long to try and explain that rank to those not familiar with military structure, so let me just say this; it is a rank higher than enlisted, and lower than commissioned officers. It is usually for those of a specialized nature; helicopter pilots, bandsmen.... and Chief was a consummate bandsman.
He was also a Pearl Harbor survivor, since he was also a Hawaiian and was there when it was bombed. He went through Korea and Viet Nam, putting over 20 years of service into the United States Army. After he retired from the Army, he became the bandmaster for Kemper Military School & College, in Boonville, Missouri for another 20 years. And that's where I encountered him.
There are stories, many, many stories about Chief. Memories, laughs and so much more that I could write so much and hopefully, no one would be bored. But I will try and keep the ones I am going to share with you brief as Chief would probably be embarrassed; not by the stories but by being in the spotlight.
When you were in the band, Chief was your boss, your father, your friend, everything. The reason was simple; Chief took care of his band. He did when he was in the Army and that translated to Kemper. I did more things with the band that I ever even thought was possible. A parade or road trip once a month was not uncommon. And that was in addition to our normal playing at every mess (three times a day), band practice in the afternoon during the week, and then a pass in review parade at school on Sunday. I remember marching in the American Royal parade, concerts at the Chase Park Plaza in St. Louis, Mizzou homecoming parade in Columbia; we were the 'voice' of Kemper. And we had Chief. To say you would do anything for him would be such a vast understatement. As I said, we went places because we were the band and we were good. Sounds like I am bragging? You're right. I can't talk just about Chief without mentioning some of the others who were in the band. These were young men and women from all over, who were some of the most professional musicians short of the United States military bands I have ever had the privilege of playing with. Their reasons for being at Kemper were their own, but their ability to play music was something else. Couple that with Chief's style and our band had a sound and dedication that was limitless. Example:
As I mentioned, we went all over to play; and not just in this state. We marched at the Cherry Blossom parade in Washington, DC, the Worlds Fair in Knoxville, TN, and we were the official band of the Dallas Grand Prix. But one parade that will always stand out is when we played a division review at Ft. Riley, KS.
A division is approximately 10,000 people with equipment. A division review is what most people think of as a parade around the post or a 'pass in review.' It is a way to show the soldiers and their equipment off. Everything looks good, the band plays, the soldiers march in rank and file and generally show off their shiny things. Their division band also plays. Now, since it takes a while for 10,000 people to march pass one point, the band will usually play at the beginning and then close to the end (this was the way it was in the 80s, so if its changed, forgive me). The First Division band, which I have heard on many occasions, along with ANY military band, are some of the best musicians and the best sounds I have ever heard, is also a large unit. They put out a fantastic sound. We were about a 25 piece band. But we had Chief. And we had trained, for almost anything. So when we were invited to play this review, we did. We played the whole review. Oh we went to drums in between the pieces we played, but we played. This again, is in no way unusual or disrespectful. It just showed that we were as professional as our regular Army counterparts. And had the sound. The one thing Chief always said, if you make a mistake make it loud. So we were never afraid not to play loud. Ok, that in itself is pretty good, but here's the kicker to this story. As we boarded the bus to head back to Kemper, we were told we going to have to play a parade upon our return. Come on now! We had just played a division review! We griped, we complained, we bitched! But Chief said we had to do it. Luckily we had about 4 hours til we got home. And when we got back, we played the parade. There is an old saying that complaining is a soldier's right. It is. But the mark of true professionals is how they handle things. So we bitched. Chief knew what we had gone through; we were tired, our chops were shot. So we did what we always did; we figured a way to do it. Our lead chairs would play some, the seconds would do this, we figured out how to do it, without sacrificing our sound or making Chief look bad. If Chief said it had to be done, it was.
This next one I heard when we honored him at our last reunion weekend. I am so glad we got the chance to really bestow the honors and love he has always known we have had for him. We all got the opportunity to stand up and tell a Chief story. This is from a full colonel who was a cadet at Kemper and from the islands. He said that when he was a new boy, Chief called to see him. He explained how things were and that his final remarks from that meeting was don't embarrass us. Now, fast forward about 20 years later. This cadet has long since graduated, got his commission and was a Army Colonel working at the Pentagon, when he gets a call from Chief.
This Colonel said, when he got the call, he immediately stood up went to attention. You may think that is some poetic license there, but I doubt it. Anyway, Chief was calling him as he was going to be in a Seniors Golf tournament in Virginia. Chief LOVED golf, period. All the time, this former cadet was saying "Yes Chief." And since he was close, he needed him...as a caddie. Without a hesitation, "Yes Chief."
He said, when he hung up the phone, how wondered how he was going to explain to his boss, a two-star general, that he needed time off to go and caddie for a retired CW4.
Chief was a Pearl Harbor survivor, a veteran of the Korean War, the Viet Nam war, 20 years in the US Army, going all over the world, 20 years at a military school going all over the US, a friend, a father, a grandfather, a surrogate father to many cadets, etc. etc. This was Chief A.K. Ignacio.
One last thing; after we would play before a crowd and were getting the applause, Chief would always make sure that the band got the recognition, but he also said with a smile, "Don't applause, throw money."
Chief what you gave us was worth so much more than mere money. Thank you doesn't even begin to cover it.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Politics of Gaming
A good friend stopped by last night as he was up here for a funeral. We ate at Shakespeare's, like we usually do when he is up here from Florida. He is a Mizzou grad and a die-hard football fan; he had to go to the Team store and stock up. This got me thinking about, what I like to call, the Politics of Gaming.Now I am not talking true politics, as far as I know, I have never been concerned with that when I play. My only concern is that they are a good gamer. The same goes for race, sex, religion, sexual orientation or any of the other multitude of things that people get upset about in the "real" world. The only concern when you role play is that the person is a good player. But that does not mean that jokes and rivalry doesn't exists. Let me tell you about this one time at Gen Con; A newly minted National Guard 2nd lieutenant, I in my Star Trek uniform, 6 others and a Jayhawk sat down at a table at Gen Con....sounds like a good set-up, huh?
Gen Con is the largest gaming convention in the world. It is the super bowl, world series and the Stanley Cup, along with premiering all the new role play games and accessory coming out on the market. This is where the creme de le creme go to play and see who is the best. And its not all about winning; for some its all about who is the best role player. This was when it was held in Milwaukee.
As I have mentioned, I am a Gamer. I am also a Trekkie... yeah I know, big stretch. So I signed up for a Trek game, and decided to wear my uniform to the game. Well imagine my surprise when I found that our Game Master was wearing a Jayhawk hat! I immediately identified myself as a loyal Mizzou son. Now a bunch of kidding ensued before we started the game. In spite of the rivalry or maybe because of it, we became fast friends.
Since I had been to Gen Con a number of times, and this was his first time there, I invited him to come and try some of the local hang outs that the thirty thousand plus gamers went to, when they weren't locked in gaming. I took him to The Safe House.
You are not cleared to receive all the information about that location (it is a Great Place-themed in spy motif. I highly recommend if you are anywhere near Milwaukee to check it out). But once we made it in, we ordered the house special called "Spy's Demise." You get the drink in a theme glass, the drink is then discounted and you get to take the glass with you. The drink looks like Kool-Aid. Trust me, its not.
Well my Jayhawk friend walked around, checking things out, seeing people he knew and generally exploring. I had been here before so I stayed close to the table. And since we were both having the same thing, I thought I would be a good friend and friendly opponent and give him some of my drink, often. He never saw me do, and could never quite figure out why his drink was always more than mine.
After awhile we decided to grab something to eat, so we moved from the bar to a table. As we sat down, he had just gotten a fresh drink. He said he was going to the bathroom and for me to not touch his drink. I replied, I had no idea what he was talking about. As he stood up, he looked at the large table next to us, people we had no idea who they are, and said, "Make sure he" meaning me, "doesn't mess with my drink." He then left.
As he was out of sight, I took his drink, poured most of it into mine, and sat it back down. The table just watched me. He then came back. He inquired what happened to his drink. I stated that I didn't know what he meant as he had drank most of it before he left. He said no, he had just ordered a new one. A woman at the table then piped up and said that I had poured most of his drink into my own. He then turned back to me, and went on to say that he knew that I had been messing with his drink all night, that I was the one, etc. Well, about this time the woman who had spoken got up and left her table. He then concluded the accusations, stating that he even had a witness and that woman had seen me mess with his drink.
I looked at him and asked, "What woman?"
"That woman right there at that table!" He looked at an empty chair. He then turned and asked the table what had happened to the woman that had been sitting there.
This table, with people who we had never met, had never seen before; one man with a perfectly straight face looked at him and replied, "What woman?"
I wonder if that guy was from K-State?
Day 49 - Parents
An old and dear friend came into town for his grandfather's funeral, he lives in Florida now, so we had dinner at Shakespeare's, a local pizza place, that is great! the slogan is, "Have you had a piece, lately...." or it was. Nowadays I think it's just Have you had a piece. Anyway.
We sat there, ate pizza, talked about the old days, Mizzou-since he's a grad and a BIG time Mizzou football fan as I am also, the days since we last talked, his family and his daughter, who is a teenager and has a boyfriend. I told him he had done a great job, she is a great girl and not to worry. But of course, he's a dad, and of course HE remembers what he was like at that age. LOL. It is true it seems; a lot of the guys who were....very free with their affections on the ladies, now have daughters. The old, "Wait til you have children of your own" curse.
I am lucky in this sense, he can't be their friend. Because I don't look or act my age (is that good or bad?) the off springs of my friends can talk to me. I told them as long as its not illegal or life-threatening I wouldn't say anything to their parents. Since the majority of them are female, and teenagers, I always give them this advice: whatever they do, they want to do. No one forces them to do anything. Don't drink and drive or get in a vehicle being driven by someone who has been drinking , and whatever you do, be safe in doing it.
Luckily all the daughters have been good, as in, there has been no serious problems come up. I haven't been told anything that I had to tell mom or dad. These parents have raised good kids. But, as my friend pointed out, and as my mother always said, Even when the parent is 90 and the child is 50, they are going to worry. I think the curse is a good one to pass on, as its kinda of a payback, but in a good way. The parent who was a teenager or young adult remembers what they did when they were younger and try to make sure their offspring don't do what they did. They might go so far as to selectively not remember things they did and be hippocritical of others, even though THEY were that way in their youth. They now say, oh that's when I was younger, as if its an excuse that can be used to be forgiven. Sorry, I'm not buying what they are selling.
Richard Pryor or Bill Cosby, some comedian said about parents as they get older, they try and 'buy" their way into Heaven. They don't want to remember they way they were. I haven't been perfect, but what I did has shaped who I am, good or bad. They should remember that also. Not pendulum swing all the way from partier to Born Again. Don't get me wrong, when a person finds the Lord, that's great! But did they find it, or did they realize that they need to build up some Good Karma to balance out everything they had done previously? Maybe I'm over thinking or over analyzing. It just gets me that there are some who don't want to remember the way they were. Or like my friend, who does remember and that's why he worries.
In this day and age, it is extremely difficult to raise kids. And kids are becoming parents at obscene ages: I saw an article about some kids over in the UK, the boy was 13 and his girl fiend at the time was 15, and they had a kid. My God! Then there is the web site I mentioned before "People You Will See In Hell." More child abuse, murder, etc. We should put personal locator beacons in all kids until they are 18 or 21 so we can locate them. If I had a kid, every toy, clothing, etc he would have a gps in it. And if I could, I would implant one in his skin. I would also not do 'Time Outs' as growing up, for me, a spanking, which I had a few, worked. Not a beating, but the time I had the dog run the cows through a barbed wire fence I got spanked, actually I got 'switched' with a switch (small tree branch) and not on the butt, but on the lower legs below my butt. THAT made a believer out of me. I deserved it. I never thought my parents didn't love me. I heard that growing up, said it before going to bed, or when I left the house. My actions on the other hand at times...
In closing, parents have a rough time. They worry. Sometimes they have the right to worry sometimes they don't. But as a parent, that goes with the job, like breathing. I salute those that have kids. And the ones that do, and are turning out well, should get the Congressional Medal of Parenthood. Those good ones are the ones that pass on the good legacy. Not going to waste time, space on words, on the parents that abuse, neglect or kill their own. No amount of psycho bable, post parteum b.s. is ever going to make me believe they were sick or anything else. From what I have seen in animals and in humans, it is hard wired into you to take care of babies, even if they are not your own. So am I saying these people are not human? And that they are animals? Of course not! Even animals take care of babies, so that would make them worse. yeah, but have no idea what category they fall into. Just evil. As I mentioned before; I think anyone ever convicted of crimes like that should be sterilized, neutered or whatever and never allowed to be around kids EVER again. They should have a registry like you have for sex offenders. And like that web site, I do hope they spend their time in Hell.
We sat there, ate pizza, talked about the old days, Mizzou-since he's a grad and a BIG time Mizzou football fan as I am also, the days since we last talked, his family and his daughter, who is a teenager and has a boyfriend. I told him he had done a great job, she is a great girl and not to worry. But of course, he's a dad, and of course HE remembers what he was like at that age. LOL. It is true it seems; a lot of the guys who were....very free with their affections on the ladies, now have daughters. The old, "Wait til you have children of your own" curse.
I am lucky in this sense, he can't be their friend. Because I don't look or act my age (is that good or bad?) the off springs of my friends can talk to me. I told them as long as its not illegal or life-threatening I wouldn't say anything to their parents. Since the majority of them are female, and teenagers, I always give them this advice: whatever they do, they want to do. No one forces them to do anything. Don't drink and drive or get in a vehicle being driven by someone who has been drinking , and whatever you do, be safe in doing it.
Luckily all the daughters have been good, as in, there has been no serious problems come up. I haven't been told anything that I had to tell mom or dad. These parents have raised good kids. But, as my friend pointed out, and as my mother always said, Even when the parent is 90 and the child is 50, they are going to worry. I think the curse is a good one to pass on, as its kinda of a payback, but in a good way. The parent who was a teenager or young adult remembers what they did when they were younger and try to make sure their offspring don't do what they did. They might go so far as to selectively not remember things they did and be hippocritical of others, even though THEY were that way in their youth. They now say, oh that's when I was younger, as if its an excuse that can be used to be forgiven. Sorry, I'm not buying what they are selling.
Richard Pryor or Bill Cosby, some comedian said about parents as they get older, they try and 'buy" their way into Heaven. They don't want to remember they way they were. I haven't been perfect, but what I did has shaped who I am, good or bad. They should remember that also. Not pendulum swing all the way from partier to Born Again. Don't get me wrong, when a person finds the Lord, that's great! But did they find it, or did they realize that they need to build up some Good Karma to balance out everything they had done previously? Maybe I'm over thinking or over analyzing. It just gets me that there are some who don't want to remember the way they were. Or like my friend, who does remember and that's why he worries.
In this day and age, it is extremely difficult to raise kids. And kids are becoming parents at obscene ages: I saw an article about some kids over in the UK, the boy was 13 and his girl fiend at the time was 15, and they had a kid. My God! Then there is the web site I mentioned before "People You Will See In Hell." More child abuse, murder, etc. We should put personal locator beacons in all kids until they are 18 or 21 so we can locate them. If I had a kid, every toy, clothing, etc he would have a gps in it. And if I could, I would implant one in his skin. I would also not do 'Time Outs' as growing up, for me, a spanking, which I had a few, worked. Not a beating, but the time I had the dog run the cows through a barbed wire fence I got spanked, actually I got 'switched' with a switch (small tree branch) and not on the butt, but on the lower legs below my butt. THAT made a believer out of me. I deserved it. I never thought my parents didn't love me. I heard that growing up, said it before going to bed, or when I left the house. My actions on the other hand at times...
In closing, parents have a rough time. They worry. Sometimes they have the right to worry sometimes they don't. But as a parent, that goes with the job, like breathing. I salute those that have kids. And the ones that do, and are turning out well, should get the Congressional Medal of Parenthood. Those good ones are the ones that pass on the good legacy. Not going to waste time, space on words, on the parents that abuse, neglect or kill their own. No amount of psycho bable, post parteum b.s. is ever going to make me believe they were sick or anything else. From what I have seen in animals and in humans, it is hard wired into you to take care of babies, even if they are not your own. So am I saying these people are not human? And that they are animals? Of course not! Even animals take care of babies, so that would make them worse. yeah, but have no idea what category they fall into. Just evil. As I mentioned before; I think anyone ever convicted of crimes like that should be sterilized, neutered or whatever and never allowed to be around kids EVER again. They should have a registry like you have for sex offenders. And like that web site, I do hope they spend their time in Hell.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I'd Like To Have Two Armies...
I'd like to have two armies: one for display with lovely guns, tanks, little soldiers, staff, distinguished and doddering generals, and dear little regimental officers who would be deeply concerned over their general's bowel movements or their colonel's piles: An army that would be shown for a modest fee on every fairground in the country. The other would be the real one, composed entirely of young enthusiasts in camouflage uniforms, who would not be put on display, but from whom impossible efforts would be demanded and to whom all sorts of tricks would be taught. That's the army in which I should like fight.
Jean Larte`Guy
Jean Larte`Guy
Day 47 & 48
I actually DID write something yesterday, but it was for a submission to MyMissourian.com, about my Polar Bear plunge experience. So I have been true to my New Year's resolution. Although I almost broke it yesterday with soda; it was just a bleck! day, and wanted that sugary sweeteness. BUT I overcame! My only resolution that I have broken was taking a picture everyday. Being in an office all day and then getting out when the sun is going down does not make me want to take any pictures. But still, I will keep trying on that. If and when that article gets published I will let you know here.
Been hearing from old friends on myspace and facebook. And these are older people, not the youngsters that supposedly are what its targeted it for. Also, these oldsters don't have to worry about anything posting stupid stuff that they did, because they did it when they were young, there were not cell phone cameras or Internet, so the episodes are safe. I always remember what my dad said, be careful, it may come back to haunt you some day.
Been hearing from old friends on myspace and facebook. And these are older people, not the youngsters that supposedly are what its targeted it for. Also, these oldsters don't have to worry about anything posting stupid stuff that they did, because they did it when they were young, there were not cell phone cameras or Internet, so the episodes are safe. I always remember what my dad said, be careful, it may come back to haunt you some day.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Day 46
Well I survived yesterday's Polar Bear Plunge for Special Olympics. Its always a nice time, and this is my second one in a row ('08, now '09). I wear my thermals and since the lake is kinda in a valley, not much wind. The only other people that I knew there were Grant and his wife came down to see me plunge. That was really nice of them. I was talking with another plunger and said that I'd wear crazy costumes or something, but just not feeling it for doing it by myself. Always like to have someone to play off in these cases.
Not much else going on. This cold weather makes me want to hibernate, so been taking naps when I can. I have no idea why. It just must be the weather.
Not much else going on. This cold weather makes me want to hibernate, so been taking naps when I can. I have no idea why. It just must be the weather.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Day 45 - R.W.
I want to talk about someone that I never met until after he passed away,and yet I feel as if I know him as well as I know myself. And no, as far as I know, he never went to Kemper.
About 10 years ago, while I was working as manager of the local Hobbytown, I was approached by someone to appraise some stuff. They said it was small figures and some games. A man had passed away a year before and his possessions were now going to auction through the bank. He didn't have any relatives around, and they need to know what some of his stuff was worth. I asked the name, as if he was in gaming there was a good chance I knew him. They told me, but I did not. They gave me the address of his house and we arranged a time.
I pulled up to a house in a neighborhood of Columbia I had never been too before. As the person lead me to a back room where the stuff was, I noticed it was a nice place, and there were some great pictures on the walls. Obviously who ever lived here also loved space exploration.
The back bedroom had been converted to an office/workshop. Normal for a gamer and hobbyist. As I started to examine the small figures, I realized this guy was a war gamer, and his work on the figures were exquisite and accurate as he had a ton or reference materials. I should know as I had the majority of the same stuff; only I was coming at from a military history angel. Then they showed me the closet where he had boxes and boxes of games. A lot of the same games I had. Then his books... need I say that I had some of the same, and what I didn't have, he did of series that I liked. I was speechless. I tried to tell the person who brought me here that if he could wait, I knew people who would pay a lot for this stuff; primarily for two reasons I thought. One: this was great stuff. Things that only came around once in a blue moon for any hard corps gamer/hobbyist/collector. And two: At that time, and to an extent now, the ones are passionate about this, who "paid their dues" are saddened when one of us leaves this mortal coil. So we try and rescue what we can from the auction vultures who only see what they can get for it. Not the value of the item/book/game/etc. I was told that there was no way they could wait, as the auction was the next day, and everything had been arraigned. Luckily I was off the next day. Unfortunately, my bank account was in an iron lung as I was still reeling from my first divorce and my funds were limited. But I know I had to get a hold of some people who would love to get their hand son this stuff. And I would get what I could with what I had.
I made sure I was there early to see what was going up and to make notes of what I wanted. Only two others could make it, as it was during a weekday, and most people had to work. I was lucky; it was my day off.
I will not bore you with the details of the auction. Only to say, that my opinion of people who go to auctions are now spilt. In one group you have the people who truly appreciate what is being sold and want it for themselves, as they value the item as much as the person who had the item did. The second are the ones that should be confined to the deepest gates of Hell. No, I don't mean the fire and brimstone; but, for a year, they should be made to sit next to someone who is knitting something with nothing. The most blatant of examples is when a group of games were going up for sales. These were board games from companies that were no longer around. They were not new, they were well used and loved. And yet, these bottom feeders were bidding against myself and others. We wanted them as we knew the games, knew they were out of print and wanted them as we couldn't find them anywhere, short of E-Bay and even that w as stretch. So we were outbid on some. Ok, fair enough. But then these "antique dealers" and I use that term loosely had the gale to ask us later, how much did they think someone would pay for those games? I had to walk away before I became abusive.
I got a couple of framed prints, a lot of books that completed some collections and others that turned me onto authors I had never heard of, or always wanted to read, but never picked up their books. These were all well taken care of, and had his initials in the front of the books.
These books have become part of my library, and I treat them with respect when I pull one and see those initials. The reason is that I found out only a little more about this person. It seems he kept to himself; or at least none of the people that were gamers knew him. Only one person I knew, knew him, and then only casually. He liked military history, military gaming, role playing, science fiction and fantasy, and from a picture I saw at his house, he went to Space Camp. He wasn't old by any means, and died around the same age I was.
Every time I have pause to reflect on him, I do so with a mirror. I don't know what kind of person he was other than what I saw of his possessions. And yet, I feel that I know him. I feel I am him on a lot of levels. And where we are the same, I know him.
It amazes me that I never crossed path with him. I might have, but have no recollection of ever meeting anyone by his name. I wish I could find out more about him, to clarify my illusion that I have of who he was; and to an extent who I am.
I only hope that he knows that he will not be forgotten as I have told this story to many; and some of his more intricate books I have given to others who I know appreciate them as much as I or he did. And the story goes with them, so his memory lives on.
The only picture I ever saw of him has faded from my memory with the exception that he was in a NASA shuttle jumpsuit. So I hope that where he is, is also with my dear friend that passed a few years ago, who would be a great companion for him. He too left this world too soon. I hope they are enjoying each other's company. And when my time comes for me to leave, they are some of the first to greet me. I look forward to shaking his hand for the first time, even though I have known him far longer than that initial meeting.
Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.
About 10 years ago, while I was working as manager of the local Hobbytown, I was approached by someone to appraise some stuff. They said it was small figures and some games. A man had passed away a year before and his possessions were now going to auction through the bank. He didn't have any relatives around, and they need to know what some of his stuff was worth. I asked the name, as if he was in gaming there was a good chance I knew him. They told me, but I did not. They gave me the address of his house and we arranged a time.
I pulled up to a house in a neighborhood of Columbia I had never been too before. As the person lead me to a back room where the stuff was, I noticed it was a nice place, and there were some great pictures on the walls. Obviously who ever lived here also loved space exploration.
The back bedroom had been converted to an office/workshop. Normal for a gamer and hobbyist. As I started to examine the small figures, I realized this guy was a war gamer, and his work on the figures were exquisite and accurate as he had a ton or reference materials. I should know as I had the majority of the same stuff; only I was coming at from a military history angel. Then they showed me the closet where he had boxes and boxes of games. A lot of the same games I had. Then his books... need I say that I had some of the same, and what I didn't have, he did of series that I liked. I was speechless. I tried to tell the person who brought me here that if he could wait, I knew people who would pay a lot for this stuff; primarily for two reasons I thought. One: this was great stuff. Things that only came around once in a blue moon for any hard corps gamer/hobbyist/collector. And two: At that time, and to an extent now, the ones are passionate about this, who "paid their dues" are saddened when one of us leaves this mortal coil. So we try and rescue what we can from the auction vultures who only see what they can get for it. Not the value of the item/book/game/etc. I was told that there was no way they could wait, as the auction was the next day, and everything had been arraigned. Luckily I was off the next day. Unfortunately, my bank account was in an iron lung as I was still reeling from my first divorce and my funds were limited. But I know I had to get a hold of some people who would love to get their hand son this stuff. And I would get what I could with what I had.
I made sure I was there early to see what was going up and to make notes of what I wanted. Only two others could make it, as it was during a weekday, and most people had to work. I was lucky; it was my day off.
I will not bore you with the details of the auction. Only to say, that my opinion of people who go to auctions are now spilt. In one group you have the people who truly appreciate what is being sold and want it for themselves, as they value the item as much as the person who had the item did. The second are the ones that should be confined to the deepest gates of Hell. No, I don't mean the fire and brimstone; but, for a year, they should be made to sit next to someone who is knitting something with nothing. The most blatant of examples is when a group of games were going up for sales. These were board games from companies that were no longer around. They were not new, they were well used and loved. And yet, these bottom feeders were bidding against myself and others. We wanted them as we knew the games, knew they were out of print and wanted them as we couldn't find them anywhere, short of E-Bay and even that w as stretch. So we were outbid on some. Ok, fair enough. But then these "antique dealers" and I use that term loosely had the gale to ask us later, how much did they think someone would pay for those games? I had to walk away before I became abusive.
I got a couple of framed prints, a lot of books that completed some collections and others that turned me onto authors I had never heard of, or always wanted to read, but never picked up their books. These were all well taken care of, and had his initials in the front of the books.
These books have become part of my library, and I treat them with respect when I pull one and see those initials. The reason is that I found out only a little more about this person. It seems he kept to himself; or at least none of the people that were gamers knew him. Only one person I knew, knew him, and then only casually. He liked military history, military gaming, role playing, science fiction and fantasy, and from a picture I saw at his house, he went to Space Camp. He wasn't old by any means, and died around the same age I was.
Every time I have pause to reflect on him, I do so with a mirror. I don't know what kind of person he was other than what I saw of his possessions. And yet, I feel that I know him. I feel I am him on a lot of levels. And where we are the same, I know him.
It amazes me that I never crossed path with him. I might have, but have no recollection of ever meeting anyone by his name. I wish I could find out more about him, to clarify my illusion that I have of who he was; and to an extent who I am.
I only hope that he knows that he will not be forgotten as I have told this story to many; and some of his more intricate books I have given to others who I know appreciate them as much as I or he did. And the story goes with them, so his memory lives on.
The only picture I ever saw of him has faded from my memory with the exception that he was in a NASA shuttle jumpsuit. So I hope that where he is, is also with my dear friend that passed a few years ago, who would be a great companion for him. He too left this world too soon. I hope they are enjoying each other's company. And when my time comes for me to leave, they are some of the first to greet me. I look forward to shaking his hand for the first time, even though I have known him far longer than that initial meeting.
Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Day 44 - Disney and books
I was talking with a student here at the paper, and we were discussing our favorite rides at amusement parks. I told her I loved Disney World, and that the Haunted Mansion was my favorite. Also It's Small World, Hall of Presidents and of course the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. She made the comment to me that I must have been there recently. I told her no, it had been about 12 years, and she argued that the movies hadn't been out that long. I smiled at her and told her that the movie was based ON the ride, not the other way around.
That got me thinking about things like that. We have had movies from real life, movies from books, movies from songs, movies from TV shows, movies from rides and movies from video games. And some of those movies from TV shows they should not have done. I am very skeptical about this upcoming movie from the kids show Land of the Lost. I LOVED that show growing up. And even though Wil Farrel is suppose to be in it, I wish they would quite screwing with our original things. Its like when they screwed with the Coke formula. New Coke bombed, thats why we went back to Classic Coke.
Sigh.
And another favorite was the cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas. With Boris Karloff doing the telling. I will lay money that the kids these days have no clue who he was or how scary he really was without having to use excess blood, gore or DGI affects. Lights, sounds and your imagination were enough.
I have always had this mini movie in my mind where you have Jason, Freddy and all those other blood and gore and these modern day vampires that are either punk rockers or suave and sophisticated (just the bad ones, not the good ones like Angel of course.... ) and have them go against the classics; the REAL Dracula, Wolfman, Mummy, the Thing, Creature from the Black Lagoon. and as the upstarts and their egos snorted that the old folks would have no chance, you see how sound and lights and imagination work... no DGI, no big FX, the illusion, the simple raise of an eyebrow or twitch. How your own thoughts worked against you. Of course the classics won in my scenario. But that's me. Now-a-days it seems that people have to be spoon feed, verses using their own imagination. Perfect example would be The Lord of the Rings movies. How many know that there was a book called The Hobbit before? Or there was a movie of the same name long before these new ones were made? My friends and the people who are into sci fi and fantasy, long before it was fashionable, read all of Tolken's stuff. You had to read The Hobbit and the trilogy as a rite of passage of sorts. Anyone who tells you they read them and found them great and 'oh this' and 'oh that.' They are not an easy read. Don't get me wrong, they are great books; but you read them to understand, to know where a lot of the fantasy now a days comes from. Its the equivalent of having to teach ancient history to see where we are now.
I have learned that I stumble upon things that I find that I love. Like this series of books by Jack Vance. I remember I was pulling OD Duty once at Kemper and on my night shift, there was this book in the desk in the OD's office. Since there was nothing else to read I started reading it. I loved it! I didn't understand some of it, but it transported me to another planet and to different cultures.
I eventually found the other books to that series and found other books by Vance. Classic science fiction, that I would bet, would mostly go unappreciated by today's sci fi fans and audiences, unless there were explosions, blood, boob and sex. Again, just my opinion. I just know what I like. I have read that series over and over. It is one of my favorites and I even found that GURP's put out a reference manual for it. Anyone that's interested can research what Jack Vance wrote and discover his works. I have given you his name, so anyone who wants a recommendation for an author, here it is. Trust me, I have many more, and I know a few and their autograph copies in my library. So its not like I am limited. I hope you enjoy!
That got me thinking about things like that. We have had movies from real life, movies from books, movies from songs, movies from TV shows, movies from rides and movies from video games. And some of those movies from TV shows they should not have done. I am very skeptical about this upcoming movie from the kids show Land of the Lost. I LOVED that show growing up. And even though Wil Farrel is suppose to be in it, I wish they would quite screwing with our original things. Its like when they screwed with the Coke formula. New Coke bombed, thats why we went back to Classic Coke.
Sigh.
And another favorite was the cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas. With Boris Karloff doing the telling. I will lay money that the kids these days have no clue who he was or how scary he really was without having to use excess blood, gore or DGI affects. Lights, sounds and your imagination were enough.
I have always had this mini movie in my mind where you have Jason, Freddy and all those other blood and gore and these modern day vampires that are either punk rockers or suave and sophisticated (just the bad ones, not the good ones like Angel of course.... ) and have them go against the classics; the REAL Dracula, Wolfman, Mummy, the Thing, Creature from the Black Lagoon. and as the upstarts and their egos snorted that the old folks would have no chance, you see how sound and lights and imagination work... no DGI, no big FX, the illusion, the simple raise of an eyebrow or twitch. How your own thoughts worked against you. Of course the classics won in my scenario. But that's me. Now-a-days it seems that people have to be spoon feed, verses using their own imagination. Perfect example would be The Lord of the Rings movies. How many know that there was a book called The Hobbit before? Or there was a movie of the same name long before these new ones were made? My friends and the people who are into sci fi and fantasy, long before it was fashionable, read all of Tolken's stuff. You had to read The Hobbit and the trilogy as a rite of passage of sorts. Anyone who tells you they read them and found them great and 'oh this' and 'oh that.' They are not an easy read. Don't get me wrong, they are great books; but you read them to understand, to know where a lot of the fantasy now a days comes from. Its the equivalent of having to teach ancient history to see where we are now.
I have learned that I stumble upon things that I find that I love. Like this series of books by Jack Vance. I remember I was pulling OD Duty once at Kemper and on my night shift, there was this book in the desk in the OD's office. Since there was nothing else to read I started reading it. I loved it! I didn't understand some of it, but it transported me to another planet and to different cultures.
I eventually found the other books to that series and found other books by Vance. Classic science fiction, that I would bet, would mostly go unappreciated by today's sci fi fans and audiences, unless there were explosions, blood, boob and sex. Again, just my opinion. I just know what I like. I have read that series over and over. It is one of my favorites and I even found that GURP's put out a reference manual for it. Anyone that's interested can research what Jack Vance wrote and discover his works. I have given you his name, so anyone who wants a recommendation for an author, here it is. Trust me, I have many more, and I know a few and their autograph copies in my library. So its not like I am limited. I hope you enjoy!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Day 43 - More from Chicken Soup for the Soul
I found this in one of the many volumes of the series. I thought it was very appropriate on how you should look at the love of your life. And hopefully be looked at in return.
Then I googled the islands and found the original story. Here it is:
WHEN I sailed to Kiniwata, an island in the Pacific, I took along a notebook. After I got back it was filled with descriptions of flora and fauna, native customs and costumes. But the only note that still interests me is the one that says: "Johnny Lingo gave eight cows to Sarita's father." And I don't need to have it in writing. I'm reminded of it every time I see a woman belittling her husband or a wife withering under her husband's scorn. I want to say to them, "You should know why Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for his wife."
Johnny Lingo wasn't exactly his name. But that's what Shenkin, the manager of the guest house on Kiniwata called him. Shenkin was from Chicago and had a habit of Americanizing the names of the islanders. But Johnny was mentioned by many people in many connections. If I wanted to spend a few days on the neighboring island of Nurabandi, Johnny Lingo could put me up. If I wanted to fish, he could show me where the biting was best. If it was pearls I sought, he would bring me the best buys. The people of Kiniwata all spoke highly of Johnny Lingo. Yet when they spoke they smiled, and the smiles were slightly mocking.
"Get Johnny Lingo to help you find what you want and let him do the bargaining," advised Shenkin. "Johnny knows how to make a deal."
"Johnny Lingo!" A boy seated nearby hooted the name and rocked with laughter.
"What goes on?" I demanded. "Everybody tells me to get in touch with Johnny Lingo and then breaks up. Let me in on the Joke."
"Oh the people love to laugh," Shenkin said, shrugging. "Johnny's the brightest, the strongest young man in the islands. And for his age, the richest."
"But if he's all you say, what is there to laugh about?"
"Only one thing. Five months ago, at fall festival, Johnny came to Kiniwata and found himself a wife. He paid her father eight cows!"
I knew enough about island customs to be impressed. Two or three cows would buy a fair-to-middling wife, four of five a highly satisfactory one.
"Good Lord!" I said, "Eight cows! She must have beauty that takes your breath away."
"She's not ugly," he conceded, and smiled a little. "But the kindest could only call Sarita plain. Sam Karoo, her father, was afraid she'd be left on his hands."
"But then he got eight cows for her? Isn't that extraordinary?"
"Never been paid before."
"Yet you call Johnny's wife plain?"
"I said it would be kindness to call her plain. She was skinny. She walked with her shoulders hunched and her head ducked. She was scared of her own shadow."
"Well, I said, "I guess there's no accounting for love."
"True enough," agreed the man. "And that's why the villagers grin when they talk about Johnny. They get special satisfaction from the fact that the sharpest trader in the islands was bested by dull old Sam Karoo."
"But how?"
"No one knows and everyone wonders. All the cousins were urging Sam to ask for three cows and hold for two until he was sure Johnny'd pay only one. Then Johnny came to Sam Karoo and said 'Father of Sarita, I offer eight cows for your daughter.'"
"Eight cows," I murmured. "I'd like to meet this Johnny Lingo."
I WANTED FISH. I wanted pearls. So the next afternoon I beached my boat at Nurabandi. And I noticed as I asked directions to Johnny's house that his name brought no sly smile to the lips of his fellow Nurabandians. And when I met the slim, serious young man, when he welcomed me with grace to his home, I was glad that from his own people he had respect unmingled with mockery. We sat in his house and talked. Then he asked "You come here from Kiniwata?"
"Yes."
"They speak of me on that island?"
"They say there's nothing I might want that you can't help me get."
He smiled gently. "My wife is from Kiniwata."
"Yes, I know."
"They speak of her."
"A little."
"What do they say."
"Why, just...." The question caught me off balance. "They told me you were married at festival time."
"Nothing more?" The curve of his eyebrows told me he knew there had to be more.
"They also say the marriage settlement was eight cows." I paused. "They wonder why."
"They ask that?" His eyes lighted with pleasure. "Everyone in Kiniwata knows about the eight cows?"
I nodded.
"And in Nurabandi everyone knows it too." His chest expanded with satisfaction. "Always and forever, when they speak of marriage settlements, it will be remembered that Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for Sarita."
So that's the answer, I thought: vanity.
And then I saw her. I watched her enter the room to place flowers on the table. She stood a moment to smile at the young man beside me. Then she went swiftly out again. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The lift of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, the sparkle of here eyes all spelled a pride to which no one could deny her the right.
I turned back to Johnny Lingo and found him looking at me. "You admire her?" he murmured.
"She...she's glorious. But she's not Sarita from Kiniwata," I said.
"There's only one Sarita. Perhaps she does not look the way they say she looked in Kiniwata."
"She doesn't. I heard she was homely. They all make fun of you because you let yourself be cheated by Sam Karoo."
"You think eight cows were too many?" A smile slid over his lips.
"No. But how can she be so different?"
"Do you ever think," he asked, "what it must mean to a woman to know that her husband has settled on the lowest price for which she can be bought? An then later, when the women talk, the boast of what their husbands paid for them. One says four cows, another maybe six. How does she feel, the woman who was sold for one or two? This could not happen to my Sarita."
"Then you did this just to make your wife happy?"
"I wanted Sarita to be happy, yes. But I wanted more than that. You say she is different. This is true. Many things can change a woman. Things happen inside, things happen outside. But the thing that matters most is what she thinks of herself. In Kiniwata, Sarita believed she was worth nothing. Now she knows she is worth more than any other woman in the islands."
"Then you wanted-"
"I wanted to marry Sarita. I loved her and no other woman."
"But-" I was close to understanding.
"But," he finished softly, "I wanted an eight-cow wife."
Patricia McGerr
Condensed from WOMAN'S DAY, November 1965
READER'S DIGEST pp. 138-141, February 1988.
On the web there are many, many listing of this story. In many, many different languages. Whether this is a true story or an urban legend, the moral of the story remains.
I had seen this happen at Kemper, in a different way. Kids who never had love, respect or true friendship, learned what it meant. Truly amazing what happens when a person really believes in themselves and the one they care for.
Then I googled the islands and found the original story. Here it is:
WHEN I sailed to Kiniwata, an island in the Pacific, I took along a notebook. After I got back it was filled with descriptions of flora and fauna, native customs and costumes. But the only note that still interests me is the one that says: "Johnny Lingo gave eight cows to Sarita's father." And I don't need to have it in writing. I'm reminded of it every time I see a woman belittling her husband or a wife withering under her husband's scorn. I want to say to them, "You should know why Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for his wife."
Johnny Lingo wasn't exactly his name. But that's what Shenkin, the manager of the guest house on Kiniwata called him. Shenkin was from Chicago and had a habit of Americanizing the names of the islanders. But Johnny was mentioned by many people in many connections. If I wanted to spend a few days on the neighboring island of Nurabandi, Johnny Lingo could put me up. If I wanted to fish, he could show me where the biting was best. If it was pearls I sought, he would bring me the best buys. The people of Kiniwata all spoke highly of Johnny Lingo. Yet when they spoke they smiled, and the smiles were slightly mocking.
"Get Johnny Lingo to help you find what you want and let him do the bargaining," advised Shenkin. "Johnny knows how to make a deal."
"Johnny Lingo!" A boy seated nearby hooted the name and rocked with laughter.
"What goes on?" I demanded. "Everybody tells me to get in touch with Johnny Lingo and then breaks up. Let me in on the Joke."
"Oh the people love to laugh," Shenkin said, shrugging. "Johnny's the brightest, the strongest young man in the islands. And for his age, the richest."
"But if he's all you say, what is there to laugh about?"
"Only one thing. Five months ago, at fall festival, Johnny came to Kiniwata and found himself a wife. He paid her father eight cows!"
I knew enough about island customs to be impressed. Two or three cows would buy a fair-to-middling wife, four of five a highly satisfactory one.
"Good Lord!" I said, "Eight cows! She must have beauty that takes your breath away."
"She's not ugly," he conceded, and smiled a little. "But the kindest could only call Sarita plain. Sam Karoo, her father, was afraid she'd be left on his hands."
"But then he got eight cows for her? Isn't that extraordinary?"
"Never been paid before."
"Yet you call Johnny's wife plain?"
"I said it would be kindness to call her plain. She was skinny. She walked with her shoulders hunched and her head ducked. She was scared of her own shadow."
"Well, I said, "I guess there's no accounting for love."
"True enough," agreed the man. "And that's why the villagers grin when they talk about Johnny. They get special satisfaction from the fact that the sharpest trader in the islands was bested by dull old Sam Karoo."
"But how?"
"No one knows and everyone wonders. All the cousins were urging Sam to ask for three cows and hold for two until he was sure Johnny'd pay only one. Then Johnny came to Sam Karoo and said 'Father of Sarita, I offer eight cows for your daughter.'"
"Eight cows," I murmured. "I'd like to meet this Johnny Lingo."
I WANTED FISH. I wanted pearls. So the next afternoon I beached my boat at Nurabandi. And I noticed as I asked directions to Johnny's house that his name brought no sly smile to the lips of his fellow Nurabandians. And when I met the slim, serious young man, when he welcomed me with grace to his home, I was glad that from his own people he had respect unmingled with mockery. We sat in his house and talked. Then he asked "You come here from Kiniwata?"
"Yes."
"They speak of me on that island?"
"They say there's nothing I might want that you can't help me get."
He smiled gently. "My wife is from Kiniwata."
"Yes, I know."
"They speak of her."
"A little."
"What do they say."
"Why, just...." The question caught me off balance. "They told me you were married at festival time."
"Nothing more?" The curve of his eyebrows told me he knew there had to be more.
"They also say the marriage settlement was eight cows." I paused. "They wonder why."
"They ask that?" His eyes lighted with pleasure. "Everyone in Kiniwata knows about the eight cows?"
I nodded.
"And in Nurabandi everyone knows it too." His chest expanded with satisfaction. "Always and forever, when they speak of marriage settlements, it will be remembered that Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for Sarita."
So that's the answer, I thought: vanity.
And then I saw her. I watched her enter the room to place flowers on the table. She stood a moment to smile at the young man beside me. Then she went swiftly out again. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The lift of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, the sparkle of here eyes all spelled a pride to which no one could deny her the right.
I turned back to Johnny Lingo and found him looking at me. "You admire her?" he murmured.
"She...she's glorious. But she's not Sarita from Kiniwata," I said.
"There's only one Sarita. Perhaps she does not look the way they say she looked in Kiniwata."
"She doesn't. I heard she was homely. They all make fun of you because you let yourself be cheated by Sam Karoo."
"You think eight cows were too many?" A smile slid over his lips.
"No. But how can she be so different?"
"Do you ever think," he asked, "what it must mean to a woman to know that her husband has settled on the lowest price for which she can be bought? An then later, when the women talk, the boast of what their husbands paid for them. One says four cows, another maybe six. How does she feel, the woman who was sold for one or two? This could not happen to my Sarita."
"Then you did this just to make your wife happy?"
"I wanted Sarita to be happy, yes. But I wanted more than that. You say she is different. This is true. Many things can change a woman. Things happen inside, things happen outside. But the thing that matters most is what she thinks of herself. In Kiniwata, Sarita believed she was worth nothing. Now she knows she is worth more than any other woman in the islands."
"Then you wanted-"
"I wanted to marry Sarita. I loved her and no other woman."
"But-" I was close to understanding.
"But," he finished softly, "I wanted an eight-cow wife."
Patricia McGerr
Condensed from WOMAN'S DAY, November 1965
READER'S DIGEST pp. 138-141, February 1988.
On the web there are many, many listing of this story. In many, many different languages. Whether this is a true story or an urban legend, the moral of the story remains.
I had seen this happen at Kemper, in a different way. Kids who never had love, respect or true friendship, learned what it meant. Truly amazing what happens when a person really believes in themselves and the one they care for.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Day 42
Just like people watch the Super Bowl for the commercials, I like certain regular commercials, that I think are brilliant. Like I said, I am in Sales, and know the benefit of something sticking with you. The Clydesdale's, the frogs, Joe Camel, the Taco Bell dog and the Geico gecko are great ones. But I love the 'priceless' commercial where the guy gives his wife the paper bag, tissue and trampoline, before he shows her the cars.
But I also love Freecreditreport.com band guys. I found out that the vocals are not from the lead singer in the band. The lead singer is Canadian and the vocal is from someone else. Then we have the Whats In Your Wallet. Both the old David Spade commercials and the ones with the Vikings. I swear that one of those vikings is "Ogre" from 'Revenge of the Nerds fame. Love those guys. And now my new favorite is Flo from Progressive Insurance.
Certain ad campaigns are great. I am glad they are on You Tube and the FreecreditReport.com guys even have their own web site with the videos and the lyrics! Take time to stop and smell the coffee and watch the commercials. Or in some people's case stop and sing Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart."
But I also love Freecreditreport.com band guys. I found out that the vocals are not from the lead singer in the band. The lead singer is Canadian and the vocal is from someone else. Then we have the Whats In Your Wallet. Both the old David Spade commercials and the ones with the Vikings. I swear that one of those vikings is "Ogre" from 'Revenge of the Nerds fame. Love those guys. And now my new favorite is Flo from Progressive Insurance.
Certain ad campaigns are great. I am glad they are on You Tube and the FreecreditReport.com guys even have their own web site with the videos and the lyrics! Take time to stop and smell the coffee and watch the commercials. Or in some people's case stop and sing Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart."
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Day 41
Even though I only have 3 'official' blog followers, I know that others either have read some of my blogs or know about them. One of my friends said that she "hasn't looked at my blog yet, but will" and a co-worker wanted me to know he found a grammatical error in my profile for this blog. Also, that I had an interesting take on Hooter's. Of course he's a sport nut, so Hooter's being a sports bar... and he's a guy. So go figure.
Anyway, its suppose to be 72 today, but then after today its suppose to rain, snow or something to that affect. And on Saturday its suppose to be in the 40s. That would be nice, as I will be doing a polar bear plunger for the local Special Olympics. I guess it is appropriate; I like the cold, have been compared to a bear at times (both physically and socially), have no problem making a fool of myself or laughing at myself and it is for a great cause. I did it last year and they did a temperature count of the water-right at 32 degrees. But there was no wind. So it wasn't bad.
It was interesting. The only thing, last year, I was by myself, and the only one from my work, so no one really to hang out with. They do make it a party there before you go in. I was in the first heat and the first name called. I am pretty sure I was the first one in also. The only problem was that as you run in, the band turns to sand. I wasn't prepared for that and went down knees first and then face in the water. I stumbled a bit more so I could go all the way under.
Coming out, they have people there holding your jackets, towels, glasses, etc. One of the local TV stations were asking how they felt and what they were going to do know. Must have been the cold, but I said loudly, "I'm going to DisneyWorld!"
My only regret was that I don't really have any costume. My thermals are black, so nothing really exciting there. Also, since this time it will be on Valentine's Day, I am sure they will get a lot of that as a theme. Who knows, I still have time. We shall see.
Anyway, its suppose to be 72 today, but then after today its suppose to rain, snow or something to that affect. And on Saturday its suppose to be in the 40s. That would be nice, as I will be doing a polar bear plunger for the local Special Olympics. I guess it is appropriate; I like the cold, have been compared to a bear at times (both physically and socially), have no problem making a fool of myself or laughing at myself and it is for a great cause. I did it last year and they did a temperature count of the water-right at 32 degrees. But there was no wind. So it wasn't bad.
It was interesting. The only thing, last year, I was by myself, and the only one from my work, so no one really to hang out with. They do make it a party there before you go in. I was in the first heat and the first name called. I am pretty sure I was the first one in also. The only problem was that as you run in, the band turns to sand. I wasn't prepared for that and went down knees first and then face in the water. I stumbled a bit more so I could go all the way under.
Coming out, they have people there holding your jackets, towels, glasses, etc. One of the local TV stations were asking how they felt and what they were going to do know. Must have been the cold, but I said loudly, "I'm going to DisneyWorld!"
My only regret was that I don't really have any costume. My thermals are black, so nothing really exciting there. Also, since this time it will be on Valentine's Day, I am sure they will get a lot of that as a theme. Who knows, I still have time. We shall see.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Day 40 - 7:10 am
Here is another old poem that I wrote. Its about when I was in grade school and rode the bus from the farm to school.
7:10 am
Early morning gray dawn light breaks the horizon.
The black ribbon of highway passes my gravel.
I stood here, years ago, waiting for my school bus.
Waiting, I would throw rocks at the open-mouth mailbox
which stood across the road (my bus driver had 2 mailbox "kills" under his belt)
Waiting, waiting my eyes searched.
Glimpses of yellow flash from the horizon's highway;
then, emerging like a rising submarine from the sea,
my bus slowly stops in front of me.
Lights flash, break squeal, door opens.
I bound up the steps
my book-bag and "Wild, Wild west" lunch box in hand.
"Morning Jim Barton."
"Morning Jack."
Doors close as I take a seat on the empty bus.
Looking out I watch the countryside go by in a blur.
The sun rises,
more kids get on,
my memory fades...
black highway, gravel dust smell, yellow school bus
7:10 am
Early morning gray dawn light breaks the horizon.
The black ribbon of highway passes my gravel.
I stood here, years ago, waiting for my school bus.
Waiting, I would throw rocks at the open-mouth mailbox
which stood across the road (my bus driver had 2 mailbox "kills" under his belt)
Waiting, waiting my eyes searched.
Glimpses of yellow flash from the horizon's highway;
then, emerging like a rising submarine from the sea,
my bus slowly stops in front of me.
Lights flash, break squeal, door opens.
I bound up the steps
my book-bag and "Wild, Wild west" lunch box in hand.
"Morning Jim Barton."
"Morning Jack."
Doors close as I take a seat on the empty bus.
Looking out I watch the countryside go by in a blur.
The sun rises,
more kids get on,
my memory fades...
black highway, gravel dust smell, yellow school bus
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Day 39 - To sleep, perchance to dream
I almost went to bed without writing something. I had just turned off the light and was about to get comfortable and remembered that I hadn't written anything today. So here it is. Not much except to say, that this is all I am writing today.
Sweet dreams all.
Sweet dreams all.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Day 38 - 71 degrees and its February!
A good friend stopped by on his way through last night, and we went out to eat at Hooter's. Some may say, 'big surprise there' but its a sports bar, cute girls dressed in shorts and decent burger and fries. As we sit there munching, my friend makes the comment about our waitress's ... um.. 'assets.' He ask me if I thought she knew that people were observing what God gave her. I answered I am sure she does. And I am sure she makes good tips. And not just from her uniform.
In the restaurant business, being friendly is part of it. Just like at Starbuck's. Personality and professionalism. Say what you will about Hooter's but their wait staff is friendly and fun. My friend and I are also old enough to know that its act and we take it as such. But being friendly does make a meal improve in my opinion.
I was in there not long after it open for lunch once. I always bring a book to read when I eat by myself. Any way, the waitress who waited on me was very nice and friendly. And I asked, so what was her major. She told me, and we got talking. It was her and her boyfriend's 1 year anniversary coming up; he was on defense for the Mizzou football team. Well we had a nice chat and I wished her well and told her to tell the bf good luck, as I am a big Mizzou football fan.
See, things like that get her a good tip and me coming back. And yet, I have seen waitresses sat very little, or get crappy service. I know there are a lot of ways to deal with that; notes, low tips, etc. Too bad they can't learn from Hooter's. Again, yeah I know, funny. But since Hooter's is a theme bar, the employees are like actors. And instead of applause we are throwing money on how much we liked what they did. It's an illusion, just like the theatre. If you think its anything else, then you need to come back to earth.
But anyway, my friend and I had a great time just talking. It was stuff we had talked about before and will talk about again. But that's the sign of a great friendship. As I told him today when we talked on the phone, he energizes me. He reminds me of when we were at Kemper and he motivated me to do things, instead of just sitting and playing on the computer. Its good to know there are a few people who don't change. Good or bad, I am glad. Its one of those, 'if you weren't there (Kemper) I can't adequately explain it.'
It just is.
In the restaurant business, being friendly is part of it. Just like at Starbuck's. Personality and professionalism. Say what you will about Hooter's but their wait staff is friendly and fun. My friend and I are also old enough to know that its act and we take it as such. But being friendly does make a meal improve in my opinion.
I was in there not long after it open for lunch once. I always bring a book to read when I eat by myself. Any way, the waitress who waited on me was very nice and friendly. And I asked, so what was her major. She told me, and we got talking. It was her and her boyfriend's 1 year anniversary coming up; he was on defense for the Mizzou football team. Well we had a nice chat and I wished her well and told her to tell the bf good luck, as I am a big Mizzou football fan.
See, things like that get her a good tip and me coming back. And yet, I have seen waitresses sat very little, or get crappy service. I know there are a lot of ways to deal with that; notes, low tips, etc. Too bad they can't learn from Hooter's. Again, yeah I know, funny. But since Hooter's is a theme bar, the employees are like actors. And instead of applause we are throwing money on how much we liked what they did. It's an illusion, just like the theatre. If you think its anything else, then you need to come back to earth.
But anyway, my friend and I had a great time just talking. It was stuff we had talked about before and will talk about again. But that's the sign of a great friendship. As I told him today when we talked on the phone, he energizes me. He reminds me of when we were at Kemper and he motivated me to do things, instead of just sitting and playing on the computer. Its good to know there are a few people who don't change. Good or bad, I am glad. Its one of those, 'if you weren't there (Kemper) I can't adequately explain it.'
It just is.
Friday, February 6, 2009
You Might Be Hooah!
I had seen this in another format when a friend was stationed at Ft. Bragg, NC. But this is essentially the same. For those not familiar with the Army and it's elite groups, you may not understand some of the initials or find it that humorous. For those who are, should find this very funny.
The Chief of Staff of the Army asked his Sergeant Major, who was both Ranger and Special Forces qualified, which organization he would recommend to form a new anti-terrorist unit. The Sergeant Major responded to the General's question with this parable: If there were a hijacked Boeing 747 being held by terrorists along with its passengers and crew and an anti-terrorist unit formed either by the Rangers or the Special Forces was given a Rescue/Recovery Mission; what would you expect to happen?
Ranger Option
Forces/Equipment Committed: If the Rangers went in, they would send a Ranger company of 120 men with standard army issue equipment.
Mission Preparation: The Ranger Company First Sergeant would conduct a Hair Cut and Boots Inspection, while the officers consulted SOPs and held sand table exercises.
Infiltration Technique: They would insist on double timing, in company formation, wearing their combat equipment, and singing cadence all the way to the site of the hijacked aircraft.
Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived, the Ranger company would establish their ORP, put out security elements, conduct a leaders recon, reapply their camouflage, and conduct final preparations for Actions on the OBJ.
Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would be completed within one hour; all of the terrorists and most of the passengers would have been killed, the Rangers would have sustained light casualties and the 747 would be worthless to anyone except a scrap dealer.
Special Forces
Option Forces/Equipment Committed: If Special Forces went in, they would send only a 12 man team (all SF units are divisible by 12 for some arcane historical reason) however, due to the exotic nature of their equipment the SF Team would cost the same amount to deploy as the Ranger Company.
Mission Preparation: The SF Team Sergeant would request relaxed grooming standards for the team. All members of the team would spend a grueling afternoon at a quality spa ensuring physical abilities would be honed.
Infiltration Technique: The team would insist on separate travel orders with Max Per Diem, and each would get to the site of the hijacking by his own means. At least one third of the team would insist on jumping in HALO.
Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived, the SF Team would cache their military uniforms, establish a Team Room at the best hotel in the area, use their illegal Team Fund to stock the unauthorized Team Room Bar, check out the situation by talking to the locals, and have a Team Meeting to discuss the merits of the terrorists' cause.
Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would take two weeks to complete and by that time all of the terrorists would have been killed, (and would have left signed confessions); the passengers would be ruined psychologically for the remainder of their lives; and all of the women passengers would be pregnant. The 747 would be essentially unharmed, the team would have taken no casualties but would have used up, lost, or stolen all the "high speed" equipment issued to them.
The Chief of Staff of the Army asked his Sergeant Major, who was both Ranger and Special Forces qualified, which organization he would recommend to form a new anti-terrorist unit. The Sergeant Major responded to the General's question with this parable: If there were a hijacked Boeing 747 being held by terrorists along with its passengers and crew and an anti-terrorist unit formed either by the Rangers or the Special Forces was given a Rescue/Recovery Mission; what would you expect to happen?
Ranger Option
Forces/Equipment Committed: If the Rangers went in, they would send a Ranger company of 120 men with standard army issue equipment.
Mission Preparation: The Ranger Company First Sergeant would conduct a Hair Cut and Boots Inspection, while the officers consulted SOPs and held sand table exercises.
Infiltration Technique: They would insist on double timing, in company formation, wearing their combat equipment, and singing cadence all the way to the site of the hijacked aircraft.
Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived, the Ranger company would establish their ORP, put out security elements, conduct a leaders recon, reapply their camouflage, and conduct final preparations for Actions on the OBJ.
Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would be completed within one hour; all of the terrorists and most of the passengers would have been killed, the Rangers would have sustained light casualties and the 747 would be worthless to anyone except a scrap dealer.
Special Forces
Option Forces/Equipment Committed: If Special Forces went in, they would send only a 12 man team (all SF units are divisible by 12 for some arcane historical reason) however, due to the exotic nature of their equipment the SF Team would cost the same amount to deploy as the Ranger Company.
Mission Preparation: The SF Team Sergeant would request relaxed grooming standards for the team. All members of the team would spend a grueling afternoon at a quality spa ensuring physical abilities would be honed.
Infiltration Technique: The team would insist on separate travel orders with Max Per Diem, and each would get to the site of the hijacking by his own means. At least one third of the team would insist on jumping in HALO.
Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived, the SF Team would cache their military uniforms, establish a Team Room at the best hotel in the area, use their illegal Team Fund to stock the unauthorized Team Room Bar, check out the situation by talking to the locals, and have a Team Meeting to discuss the merits of the terrorists' cause.
Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would take two weeks to complete and by that time all of the terrorists would have been killed, (and would have left signed confessions); the passengers would be ruined psychologically for the remainder of their lives; and all of the women passengers would be pregnant. The 747 would be essentially unharmed, the team would have taken no casualties but would have used up, lost, or stolen all the "high speed" equipment issued to them.
Hillarious.
If you can read this whole story without laughing, then there's no hope for you. I was crying by the end. This is an actual account as relayed to paramedics at a chili cook-off in Texas.
Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio City Park. Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL. Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3."
Here are the scorecard notes from the event:
CHILI # 1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN'S AFTERBURNER CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
CHILI # 3 - FRED'S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.
Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer.
CHILI # 4 - BUBBA'S BLACK MAGIC...
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. woman is starting to look HOT... just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
CHILI # 5 LISA'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER...
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them.
CHILI # 6 - VERA'S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY...
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.
CHILI # 7 - SUSAN'S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM'S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI......
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
Judge # 3 - No Report
Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio City Park. Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL. Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3."
Here are the scorecard notes from the event:
CHILI # 1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN'S AFTERBURNER CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
CHILI # 3 - FRED'S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.
Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer.
CHILI # 4 - BUBBA'S BLACK MAGIC...
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. woman is starting to look HOT... just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
CHILI # 5 LISA'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER...
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them.
CHILI # 6 - VERA'S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY...
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.
CHILI # 7 - SUSAN'S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM'S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI......
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
Judge # 3 - No Report
Day 37 - Track 9 Almost Home
Since I haven't put a track on there from my Play These Songs At My Funeral section of my Zune, I'd thought I'd put the next one on.
I heard this song when I was moving everything out of the house on the farm. I stopped loading the pick up and just listened, and cried. I remember fields of hay that had just been mowed. Not really jumping in a creek, but swimming in ponds. Smelling home cooking. I remember cane poles and red and white bobbers. I remember it all, just like in the song.
Almost Home - Craig Morgan
He had plastic bags wrapped 'round his shoes
He was covered with the evening news
Had a pair of old wool socks on his hands
The bank sign was flashing "5 below
It was freezing rain an' spittin' snow
He was curled up behind some garbage cans
I was afraid that he was dead
I gave him a gentle shake
When he opened up his eyes I said,"Old man are you ok?"
He said,"I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runnin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
'Cause I was almost home..."
Then he said,"I was just comin' round the barn"
'Bout the time you grabbed my arm
When I heard Momma holler son hurry up
I was close enough for my old nose
To smell fresh cobbler on the stove
And I saw daddy loadin' up the truck
Cane poles on the tailgate
Bobbers blowin' in the wind
Since July of '55
That's as close as I've been"
Yeah, I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
I was almost home"
I said,"old man you're gonna freeze to death
"Let me drive you to the mission
He said,"Boy if you'd left me alone
Right now I'd be fishin'"
"I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runnin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
'Cause I was almost home"
"Man I wish you'd just left me alone
I was almost home..."
I heard this song when I was moving everything out of the house on the farm. I stopped loading the pick up and just listened, and cried. I remember fields of hay that had just been mowed. Not really jumping in a creek, but swimming in ponds. Smelling home cooking. I remember cane poles and red and white bobbers. I remember it all, just like in the song.
Almost Home - Craig Morgan
He had plastic bags wrapped 'round his shoes
He was covered with the evening news
Had a pair of old wool socks on his hands
The bank sign was flashing "5 below
It was freezing rain an' spittin' snow
He was curled up behind some garbage cans
I was afraid that he was dead
I gave him a gentle shake
When he opened up his eyes I said,"Old man are you ok?"
He said,"I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runnin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
'Cause I was almost home..."
Then he said,"I was just comin' round the barn"
'Bout the time you grabbed my arm
When I heard Momma holler son hurry up
I was close enough for my old nose
To smell fresh cobbler on the stove
And I saw daddy loadin' up the truck
Cane poles on the tailgate
Bobbers blowin' in the wind
Since July of '55
That's as close as I've been"
Yeah, I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
I was almost home"
I said,"old man you're gonna freeze to death
"Let me drive you to the mission
He said,"Boy if you'd left me alone
Right now I'd be fishin'"
"I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runnin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
'Cause I was almost home"
"Man I wish you'd just left me alone
I was almost home..."
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Day 36 - Slow Dawn
Believe it or not, I wrote this next piece with no one in mind. It was something inside me that had to come out. Most writers know that, when there is something they have to write; well, this is one of mine.
You woke me at 2 a.m.
Like a ship riding easy at a dock, you nudged me awake.
And though alone, you were everywhere;
I'm sure I woke calling your name.
I breathed you in, I breathed you out.
I felt you watching me through the night,
and your image was burned into me.
Long dormant feelings awoke and I knew;
you had touched my soul and stolen my heart.
The more I tried not to think about you
the more you were there
filling up the room.
I can remember every touch,
like being in the sun;
your fingers - hot on my skin.
I see you so clear before me;
like a beautiful ghost, watching.
I hear your voice whisper in my ear
and I am enthralled.
The more I tell my heart to slow down
the faster it speeds up.
The more I try not to think about you
there you are;
filling up my head, my heart, my soul.
This was more from my own imagination I am sure. I honestly didn't write about one person, but maybe a hodge podge of different ladies. So you tell me; happy or sad? Not sure.
You woke me at 2 a.m.
Like a ship riding easy at a dock, you nudged me awake.
And though alone, you were everywhere;
I'm sure I woke calling your name.
I breathed you in, I breathed you out.
I felt you watching me through the night,
and your image was burned into me.
Long dormant feelings awoke and I knew;
you had touched my soul and stolen my heart.
The more I tried not to think about you
the more you were there
filling up the room.
I can remember every touch,
like being in the sun;
your fingers - hot on my skin.
I see you so clear before me;
like a beautiful ghost, watching.
I hear your voice whisper in my ear
and I am enthralled.
The more I tell my heart to slow down
the faster it speeds up.
The more I try not to think about you
there you are;
filling up my head, my heart, my soul.
This was more from my own imagination I am sure. I honestly didn't write about one person, but maybe a hodge podge of different ladies. So you tell me; happy or sad? Not sure.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Day 35
Like I said in a previous post, an old friend found me online. We chatted and I asked who he had kept up with, and one name interested me. This was another old friend from Kemper. This guy was hilarious. When we wrote stories in English class, this guy always did a great job of being funny. So my friend told me he was in LA doing the Hollywood thing. I googled his name and sure enough, it came up in the IMDB. So when I clicked for a picture, there he was in all his splendor. Just seeing his face made me smile, still makes me smile.
I was also watching some old Frank Sinatra dvds I have about his life. The way he and the Rat Pack of Dean and Sammy worked, I can see Bunch and George and I doing the same. Sammy was Bunch, while George and I alternated between the others. Just like their antics showed the fun they had and the love and respect was always an underscore, I think that's the way it was with us also.
I was also watching some old Frank Sinatra dvds I have about his life. The way he and the Rat Pack of Dean and Sammy worked, I can see Bunch and George and I doing the same. Sammy was Bunch, while George and I alternated between the others. Just like their antics showed the fun they had and the love and respect was always an underscore, I think that's the way it was with us also.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Rose
The last petal from the last rose fell.
It gave freely, but could not see,
as it falls, the rose will cease to be.
If the rose knew then what it knows now
would it do something new?
"The petal would fall" it says.
But why?
"Because that is what I was born to do."
It gave freely, but could not see,
as it falls, the rose will cease to be.
If the rose knew then what it knows now
would it do something new?
"The petal would fall" it says.
But why?
"Because that is what I was born to do."
Throwing Rocks at the Walnut Tree
I will try and alternate anything to sad or down with something not sad or down. LOL. Here is another poem I wrote. While I can remember Kemper and many, many things about those years; my home in Glasgow is also imprinted on me too.
Throwing Rocks at the Walnut Tree
In days gone past, during the fall, I'd go outside in the evening. My feet were tough enough for me to make my way from my back porch to the other side of the gravel road. There I would stand before the tree. It had been big for as long as I could remember. The moon would be bright enough to see by; I'd pick up rocks from the road and throw them at the green clumps that hung from the branches. If I was lucky I would be rewarded with the falling of two or three of the green. After a while I would clear all the lower branches. Then I would make futile throws at the ones higher up. Soon I would loose interest.
The cream colored moon glowed like a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the night sky. Like diamonds being poured onto black velvet, the stars cam out. Other lights, closer to the ground and me, would also begin to appear. Fireflies. Seeing them, I'd run into the house. Mom would fix me an old peanut butter jar with holes in the top. With it clutched in my tight little hands, I would burst through the screen door to the outside, where I'd put some grass in the bottom. Armed with this jar, i was ready to go on the hunt for those elusive fireflies of summer. The music of crickets and frogs the only sounds as I made my way through the fresh cut grass of the lawn, and my young days.
Throwing Rocks at the Walnut Tree
In days gone past, during the fall, I'd go outside in the evening. My feet were tough enough for me to make my way from my back porch to the other side of the gravel road. There I would stand before the tree. It had been big for as long as I could remember. The moon would be bright enough to see by; I'd pick up rocks from the road and throw them at the green clumps that hung from the branches. If I was lucky I would be rewarded with the falling of two or three of the green. After a while I would clear all the lower branches. Then I would make futile throws at the ones higher up. Soon I would loose interest.
The cream colored moon glowed like a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the night sky. Like diamonds being poured onto black velvet, the stars cam out. Other lights, closer to the ground and me, would also begin to appear. Fireflies. Seeing them, I'd run into the house. Mom would fix me an old peanut butter jar with holes in the top. With it clutched in my tight little hands, I would burst through the screen door to the outside, where I'd put some grass in the bottom. Armed with this jar, i was ready to go on the hunt for those elusive fireflies of summer. The music of crickets and frogs the only sounds as I made my way through the fresh cut grass of the lawn, and my young days.
Today
Here is the first poem I ever wrote and was ever published. This might actually be the first crack in my stain glass heart, I don't know. I could say Julie was, but that was a pure love that transcends words, as first loves are suppose to be. I could say Kemper, but that was like an older woman teaching a young boy what it was like to be a man. So, yeah, this would be the first crack; as this one hurt. Alot.
Today
A dream died today. One that had held me for so long flying high and now I come crashing down. A very special dream died today.
A tear fell today. Followed by another and another and another. a lot of tears fell today from my eyes.
A part of me died today. A love gone away, stayed away forever. A part of me died, but a small part will always stay in my heart, forever.
Whoever said, 'It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all' never lost at love. But at times love comes when you least expect it, and goes when you need it most.
Dear Mom & Dad, not much going on today...
Today
A dream died today. One that had held me for so long flying high and now I come crashing down. A very special dream died today.
A tear fell today. Followed by another and another and another. a lot of tears fell today from my eyes.
A part of me died today. A love gone away, stayed away forever. A part of me died, but a small part will always stay in my heart, forever.
Whoever said, 'It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all' never lost at love. But at times love comes when you least expect it, and goes when you need it most.
Dear Mom & Dad, not much going on today...
Day 34 - The question I never asked Mrs. R.
Another school year here at the big MU. Over here at the Missourian we help out a media sales class; so we are kinda like TAs or assistants or something. I enjoy that. In fact, last semester a couple of students sent me some nice e-mails thanking me for everything I had done and helping them. I remember the first time I helped out, I had 4 students. well I had copied some selling materials I had picked up over the years. They said that other students had asked if they could copy what I had given mine. Since then, I always try to have stuff ready to give out. Don't know if it helps or not, but better than just getting words and experience. No matter how experienced, having something in their hands should help. Anyway, what I was thinking was that I have not meet many educators/teachers outside of Kemper that left impressions on me. There have been a couple, but I think the difference is that at Kemper you worked hard to get knowledge from them. They had, you wanted it. You worked for it. After that, I had teachers that tried to give it to you, or just teached. As I said, only a couple stand out. So as I was contemplating this, I thought that of all the questions I asked Mrs R. at Kemper, and I know there was a lot; not to mention the trip to Europe I went with her on, the one I never asked her was, 'What she thought I should do with my life.' Or maybe more correctly, what did she think I would be good at. Unlike parents who would say that you would be good at anything or whatever you set your mind too. She would answer you with a direct answer. In a sea of generalizations, she would give you a straight and direct answer; not meaning to hurt if it did, but honest and thought out. I regret that I never did ask that. I did ask others and have remembered a lot of what she said. She was a walking Internet before there was such a thing. I wish that I had taken more pictures, more notes, etc etc etc. Its always "I wish..." as we get older. But mine are a bit different that a lot. As I said, I had done a lot before my fall from paradise. None of which I regret, because I can say, truthfully, been there, done that. Now, I just want to replace some of those past memories with new ones. But 95% of the people I could do that with are gone, have their own lives, not even in this state or the wrong age or sex; depending on what I want to do... lol.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Day 33
I was amazed when an old friend found me on Facebook. Here is a guy I have not seen or heard from in over 26 years, yeah hes a military school boy, and he drops me a line. His picture looks just like him; granted a few wrinkles. But I could spot him a mile off. Took me back.
And it must be these Chicken Soup books... on the Christian one now. In one entry it talks about that Lucifer was expelled from Heaven for being proud. I think back to that, and I wonder; is that what happened to me? Goes back to what I said once about, oh how the mighty has fallen. Helping a student here reminded me about my two kitties. She made the comment about not being ready and I agree. Granted its been two years, but I worry. I don't want a repeat of what happened.
The weather is nice today; 40s. Although its suppose to be in the 20's tomorrow.
Not much else for now. Was real lazy this weekend, and getting back into the swing of things here and now. Maybe God is 'nudging' me in a direction, I don't know.
And it must be these Chicken Soup books... on the Christian one now. In one entry it talks about that Lucifer was expelled from Heaven for being proud. I think back to that, and I wonder; is that what happened to me? Goes back to what I said once about, oh how the mighty has fallen. Helping a student here reminded me about my two kitties. She made the comment about not being ready and I agree. Granted its been two years, but I worry. I don't want a repeat of what happened.
The weather is nice today; 40s. Although its suppose to be in the 20's tomorrow.
Not much else for now. Was real lazy this weekend, and getting back into the swing of things here and now. Maybe God is 'nudging' me in a direction, I don't know.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Day 32 - Super Bowl Sunday
Well the Super Bowl is here. Honestly, I am excited about it as I am pulling a splinter from my toe. Now that's not exactly true, I am looking forward to seeing the commercials they will have on. But I will watch them online, at another time. I have other things I could be doing. Neither team is one that I root for, so I don't care. For those that do, I hope its a good game for you.
Again, let me say how much I love satellite radio/Internet radio. I have been listening to the Nostalgia station. Specifically the '70s! Love it. They play songs that I had forgotten, and even theme from the TV shows that were on. And they have been playing stuff from the Captain and Tonelle show. Its a shame that variety shows have gone away and we are left with 'reality' shows on prime time. Thank goodness for satellite/cable. Just like education these days; if you want something good, you have to pay for it.
But getting back to those old songs. One that I loved, I had the 45 of it (that's a small record for those who don't know) and wish I could find it to down load it. The song is: Do You Want To Make Love; Or Do you Just Want To Fool Around. Its a cross between a nice love song and a great opening lines to pick up chicks (see how easy it is to fall into the 70's vernacular?) Songs like: Heaven on the 7th Floor and Did You Boogie With Your Baby In The Back Row of the Movie Show. Or groups like Manhattan Transfer. Music now a days... groups and singles, coming from American Idol. I have never watched A.I., I doubt I ever will. I gave up contestant shows like that, when I was watching a Miss America pageant and realized they will never pick the one I like, so why watch.
Now don't get me wrong, I am behind anyone going for their dreams. I do question some of the music these days. Rap being the biggest.
So I will just stick to these stations, my mp3 player. There are a few modern songs that I have heard or seen the music video to I like, so I am not a completely shut door. But like Morris the Cat (remember THOSE commercials) in this case, I am very picky.
Again, let me say how much I love satellite radio/Internet radio. I have been listening to the Nostalgia station. Specifically the '70s! Love it. They play songs that I had forgotten, and even theme from the TV shows that were on. And they have been playing stuff from the Captain and Tonelle
But getting back to those old songs. One that I loved, I had the 45 of it (that's a small record for those who don't know) and wish I could find it to down load it. The song is: Do You Want To Make Love; Or Do you Just Want To Fool Around. Its a cross between a nice love song and a great opening lines to pick up chicks (see how easy it is to fall into the 70's vernacular?) Songs like: Heaven on the 7th Floor and Did You Boogie With Your Baby In The Back Row of the Movie Show. Or groups like Manhattan Transfer. Music now a days... groups and singles, coming from American Idol. I have never watched A.I., I doubt I ever will. I gave up contestant shows like that, when I was watching a Miss America pageant and realized they will never pick the one I like, so why watch.
Now don't get me wrong, I am behind anyone going for their dreams. I do question some of the music these days. Rap being the biggest.
So I will just stick to these stations, my mp3 player. There are a few modern songs that I have heard or seen the music video to I like, so I am not a completely shut door. But like Morris the Cat (remember THOSE commercials) in this case, I am very picky.
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