Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the Mobile East Wing.
One of the neat things ‘bout going on a trip is the anticipation and excitation which comes along as the time of departure approaches. Your world fills up with questions, so many questions, so little time. When ya leaving? Who’s going? What ya taking? Who’s gonna take care of the 2girldogs? More importantly, what ‘bout that Republican Cat? Who’s gonna tell Sophia I’m going away? Will she kill the 2girldogs while I’m gone? What ‘bout the office cats?
In due time all issues are resolved one way or another. By now ya are starting to feel there’s no place like home, but alas, it’s not Dorothy and the Scare Scow or the Tin Man or the Cowardly Lion. It’s John & Jaimie, Regina and BobbyRay and as we step onto the Yellow Brick Road at 800 South, we’re off to see the wizard.
Not even 10 minutes into the trip and we’re south bound and down, loaded up and trucking.
Corn fields as far as ya can see. Empty corn fields from a recently completed harvest. Machines bigger than houses pick over corn fields like chicken bones and when they’re done, only memory of corn remains.
Not too long ago it was not uncommon to see many people in corn fields after the harvest. People with 5 gal. buckets picking up whole ear corn to feed their pigs. There was a family at Toto, when I was a kid, that picked enough ear corn to raise a pig each year. Sometime in the winter they would kill a pig, right there in their yard, kill the pig, cut it up and do all the other stuff ya do with a killed pig. They had a neighbor who would do the same thing with chickens and ducks. Don’t think too many people do that sort of thing in the front yard any more.
Just north Brookston IN we encounter a wind mill farm. Wind turbines producing electricity. Wind mills as far as the eye can see to the west. Hundreds of wind mills, Massive towers atop with sets generators with blades of fiberglass 40ft long, three blades per tower. Electricity from the wind. A site to behold. The man from La Mancha would have met this match in Brookston IN.
Cracker Barrel Restaurant at Lafayette is the place for lunch this day after Christmas. Spent two hours in Lafayette, first having lunch, the looking for a GPS replacement program for my laptop. Lost my GPS uplink device from last year. Don’t know how I lost it, but just did. Course if I did know, it wouldn’t be lost.
Went to three different stores looking for the GPS program. John went into Best Buy, found the program, they had two different ones, $10.00 difference. John got the cheaper of the two. It did not come with the down link device to connect the computer to satellite. But all is not lost, we will swap it out at a Best Buy somewhere down the road.
We leave Lafayette in the snow as the shades of nighttime roll over the day light. The snow’s now completely covering the world as the daytime has gone away. We laugh as we pass a car with all four blinkers going, traveling about 15 mph in the light snow. His licenses identified the car as being from Alabama. We wonder if he may be thinking he is in an Indiana Blizzard.
As we merge into traffic on Interstate 65 it reminds me that this is a part of the Federal Highway System first envisioned by President Eisenhower in his first term in office. His military experiences taught him the importance of being able to move men and material in a most expeditors manner. It was at the insistence of the President that the Federal Highway System came into being. The interstate system was build to move armies and their equipment across this land we call America. One of the little know facts of the Interstate System is in the original laws that created the system was a provision that one mile in every ten be straight. A possible landing strip for military use. Pray to God that need will never arise.
What has occurred with the Interstate System is it allows us to go anywhere at any time in the fastest possible time. It takes us to grandma’s house, on vacation, to town, to visit, to go play, to Wal-Mart.
Every great society has survived a great deal in part due to the fact that they developed a road system within their country. From time to time you’ll see reference to the great engineering feats of the Egyptians, but the one thing ya never see is any reference to Egyptian road building. It seems odd to me that these people could build such complex things as pyramids and not build roads. I’m not sure they built the pyramids it they were too dumb to build roads. How’d all those slaves get to work every morning without roads?
The real road builders were the Romans. A part of Roman Road Technology still exist to this day in our society. The Romans built roads of stone to all ends of their empire. The empire was controlled much in part by the ability of the Roman Army to march unimpeded to wherever they needed to be. Along with the foot solders rolled the chariots on this road of stone.. After hundreds and hundreds of years the chariot rims wore an impression into the stone. This impression measured 4 ft. 6 1/2 inches.
When railroads first came into existence a standard unit of measure was needed to keep the rails the same distance all over the world. The most widely recognized unit of measure of this type distance was the distance between the Roman Chariot wheels, 4 ft 6 ½ inches. Used to this day on every standard size railroad in the world. It’s called the “gauge” the distance from center to center of the rail. There’s a narrow gauge railroad system, but it’s very limited in use and not well known outside railroad circles.
Midway between Indianapolis and Louisville, the snow has ended with no prospect of snow in front of us. Not much fun traveling at night, but out of necessity ya do what ya gotta do. If I wasn’t such a wimp we could fly down to Hilton Head Island in three hours or so, I am, so we drive. I don’t fly well, figured if God wanted me to fly, I’d have feathers, I don’t, so I don’t.
Now I know that some of you will laugh at me for my fear of flying. So don’t quote me statics that it’s is so much safer to fly than drive, that many more people die driving than flying. Ya know, statics can prove or disprove anything. An example being that more people have died on this earth than are now alive. So I want to go with latter more so than the former.
In the East Wing we open presents late on Christmas Eve. For Christmas this year, my son John , got his sister, Angela, an Obama Lava Lamp. Angela loved the Lava Lamp. She turned it on and after a short warm up, the lava rolled. Everyone enjoyed the lamp except, as you may expect, Sophia The Republican Cat. She cussed it out in cat. She brought up her contention that Obama had visited her Cat House in Chicago looking for a good time. Made reference to his friendship with Tiger Woods, and how they used to hang out, Then I suspect, sometime in the night she may have peed on the Lava Lamp. Now I’m not sure ‘bout that but she sure smiled a lot on Christmas Day when anyone said anything ‘bout the Obama Lava Lamp. Sophia has that little smile that seems to say “I got ya, and ya don’t even know it……..yet” I did notice this morning the base of the lava lamp seemed a little different color than last night, but maybe it’s just the different light, yet she sure is smiling a lot today, every time someone says lava lamp. Until today, I didn’t know that cats could chuckle. Damn Republican Cat.
One of the things that always crosses my mind when I travel on the Interstate Highways is where are all these people going. Then I wonder if they think the same thing ‘bout me. It just seems I’ve always had such good justification for my being here on the road, while I wonder ‘bout the justification of those coming toward me, not to mention those I pass going the same way as me.
Louisville at night for a country boy looks like a living Christmas Tree. All big cities are pretty in the dark, with all the lights. Not so much in the daylight. Too much social decay, warts and bumps to be pretty in the daylight.
Darkness tends to make pretty , not only to big cities, little cities as well, darkness works it’s magic in the country side also. Often the most enjoyable time of the day in the East Wing is after the shades of evening are drawn. It’s the time of day that Pup Baby likes me to tell her stories. Her favorite story is the Lady and the Tramp. The Pup Baby likes romantic romance stories.
Sophia’s favorite story is Ole Yellow, she particularly likes that part where the old dog dies. She always ask that I tell that part twice. Cats do smile when they’re happy.
Kentucky is being traversed in the darkness this cloudy night. As we prepare to complete our journey cross the Blue Grass side of Kentucky, Mammoth Cave appears on the information road signs, and just as quickly disappears behind me into the night. Even though we are on the west side of Kentucky, with much less mountains than eastern Kentucky, in the darkness we’re unable to even see the rock on the sides of the road. Ya miss a lot when ya travel at night.
We spent the night along the way in a nice little motel somewhere in southern Tennessee. Upon leaving the motel in the morning I was so surprised to find we were on the top of a mountain. No sooner did we get on the interstate than we see a sign saying 6% grade for the next 5 miles. Now those who may not be familiar with mountains and steep roads. I’m telling ya a 6% down grade is steep. A 6% grade going up is just as steep.
It’s Sunday morning and we’re approaching Chattanooga TN 25 miles in front of us on Interstate 24. Last night we were talking ‘bout the Interstate Highway System, one easy way to tell which general direction you’re going is that all even number interstate roads run east and west, while all odd numbered roads run in the general direction of north and south.
As I went through Atlanta this afternoon, I gawked with the best of ‘em. Pretty big city, Atlanta GA, from the Interstate at 70 mph. Traffic jam north of Atlanta took some of the fun out of the trip, but only as long as we sat in traffic. We are now on our way from Atlanta to Savannah. Interstate 16 closely parallels General Sherman’s march to the sea during the Civil War after he had pretty much destroyed Atlanta.
I have always been interested in General Sherman as a historical figure, and as such have read a great deal of what has been written about General Sherman. Contrary to what happened in the movie Gone With the Wind, General Sherman did not burn Atlanta to the ground. What his army did do was to destroy the rail way system in Atlanta. Not only did they burn the railroad ties, they bent the rails over the fires so they could never be used again. I’m a little disappointed that part of this section of the trip’s in the darkness, ‘cause this is really good country to gawk at.
Got to Hilton Head Island late Sunday night, much too late to do anything except crash, and so I did. I’m excited about the upcoming week. I’ll walk in the ocean tomorrow. I’ll let ya know.
Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan
I wish you well
BobbyRay, Wondering if Sophia peed on the Obama Lava Lamp, Leaving Home in the Snow, Arriving at Hilton Head Island NC
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
From the East Wing in the Tropics, Capricorn & Cancer, Twelve Different Days of Christmas, The Fat Czar
Greeting and welcome to my new friends in the East Wing.
As the days continue to grow shorter, and the official start of winter is rapidly approaching, I’m looking forward to that precise moment of the 2009 Winter Solstice. It’s tomorrow, Monday the 21st at 11:47 PM CST.
Ya’d think something as important as the official start of winter would have a special allotted amount of time so everybody could get into the festivities, but nooooo! A slice of time, only a slice of time so thin ya can’t even see it. So thin, by the time it takes to say winter, it’s occurred and spring, summer and fall are all forever frozen into the back roads of the memories of 2009. An interesting note on winter is that it’s the only season stretching across into a new year. Winter can correctly be referred to as the winter of 2008-2009 or this upcoming winter of 2009 – 2010.
The real noticeable thing ‘bout winter starting up is what happens with the sun’s path across the sky. The winter solstice occurs either December 21 or 22, when the sun shines directly over the tropic of Capricorn. The summer solstice occurs either June 20 or 21, when the sun shines directly over the tropic of Cancer. In the Southern Hemisphere, the winter and summer solstices are reversed, so the folks in South America are getting ready to start summer as we get ready to start winter. The reason it’s not the very same day each year like Christmas is the 25th of December, or your birthday being the same every year, has to do with the earth’s rotation round the sun and that trip not being exact 365 days each and every time. So very once in a while we have to use a makeup day. That Feb. 29th thing is a makeup day.
There are three imaginary lines running across the surface of the earth. The equator, the Tropic of Cancer, and the Tropic of Capricorn. While the equator is the longest line of latitude on the earth (the line where the earth is widest in an east-west direction), the tropics are based on the sun's position in relation to the earth at two points of the year.
The equator is located at zero degrees latitude. The equator runs through Indonesia, Ecuador, northern Brazil, the Congo, and Kenya, among other places. Another way to remember the equator is, that if the earth had a belly button, the equator would be right ‘round there. It’s just a 100 miles or so shy of 25,000 miles all the way around the earth. Now that’s a long way, I could go from the East Wing to Chicago and back over 100 times and still not get that many miles. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’ve been to Chicago one too many times already and I’m not going another hundred times, that’s for sure.
On the equator, the sun is directly overhead at noon on the two equinoxes, in March and September. The equator divides the earth into the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.
The Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn each lie at 23.5 degrees latitude. The Tropic of Cancer is located at 23.5° North of the equator and runs through Mexico, the Bahamas, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, India, and southern China. The Tropic of Capricorn lies at 23.5° South of the equator and runs through Australia, Chile, southern Brazil.
The tropics are the two lines where the sun is directly overhead at noon on the two solstices. In June and December. The sun is directly overhead at noon on the Tropic of Cancer on June 21 (the beginning of summer in the Northern Hemisphere and the beginning of winter in the Southern Hemisphere) and the sun is directly overhead at noon on the Tropic of Capricorn on December 21 (the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere and the beginning of summer in the Southern Hemisphere).
The area bounded by the Tropic of Cancer on the north and Tropic of Capricorn on the south is known as the "tropics." This area does not experience seasons because the sun is always high in the sky. Only higher latitudes, north of the Tropic of Cancer and south of the Tropic of Capricorn, experience seasonal changes in the weather. Such a pity, but ya can never make snow angels in the tropics. Maybe they do ‘em in sand. Bet they don’t even know ‘bout snow angels. Maybe they don’t even know ‘bout snow.
Now after all that whooptee do explanation ‘bout the Tropics, Capricorn and Cancer, it’s not like these lines I’ve described are laid out with a chalk line or painted by one of those line striping trucks spraying that yellow paint down the middle of the road. Did ye ever see one of those idiots who just had to pass that paint truck before the yellow paint dries, and sure enough they mess up the paint, ‘n get it all over the road. I hate when that happens.
These are invisible lines, ya can’t see ‘em, ya either measure with instruments designed to do just such calculations using stars and stuff, or close your eyes and act like ya see ‘em. But all ya really need to know is when the sun gets as far north as it’s gona go, that’s Tropic of Cancer, when the sun gets as far south as it’s gona go, that’s Tropic of Capricorn, and the equator is the line in the middle. Like if the earth had a belly button the equator would run right ‘round there. All that other stuff, well I threw it in there just in case ya thought I’d spent all my time studying foreign languages, and learning to cuss in cat.
With what’s said about the latitude lines and how it’s used to reference the movement of the sun across the sky to identify the change of seasons, it just seems right to say a little something ‘bout longitude. I’m sure someone’s gona say “oh well, here he goes again off on some more crap that don’t makes sense. But I’m telling ya, the longitude lines are like the latitude lines, ‘cept they go east – west rather than north – south. There’s a spot on the world that all time is measured from, it’s on one of those longitude lines. Now that line is real important too, but we’ll save that story for another day.
An easy way to understand latitude and longitude is it’s kinda like the 911 address systems. All such systems have division lines, both north-south and east-west. Once ya learn the division lines, the rest just kinda fills in by its self.
All those little GPS screens ya got plugged in and setting on your dash, looking just sooo cool, well without latitude and longitude as universal units of measuring distance on the Earth, that little toy on the dash would not be there and ya’d still be lost.
Bet the little brown eyed friend of mine, that hummingbird from summer past, she has built in GPS and went to South America for their summertime. Either way, come spring time in the valley, she’ll be back to the East Wing. ‘Cause once in the East Wing, forever destined to return, so she’ll be back, when it’s spring time in the valley. I’m sure if her GPS got her down there, it’ll bring her back. I’m already looking forward to seeing her.
Did ya ever wonder how leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have anything to do with Christmas?
Well there was about a 300 year period that Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. It had to do with the English King getting mad at the Pope. Now when you’re the king ya can do mean things to people and get away with it. Somebody during that time wrote a carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.
-The partridge in a pear tree is Jesus Christ.
-Two turtle doves are the Old and New Testaments.
-Three French hens stand for faith, hope and love.
-The four calling birds are the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.
-The five golden rings represent the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.
-The six geese a-laying stand for the six days of creation.
-Seven swans a-swimming represents the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.
-The eight maids a-milking are the eight beatitudes.
-Nine ladies dancing are the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.
-The ten lords a-leaping are the ten commandments.
-The eleven pipers piping stand for the eleven faithful disciples.
-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.
So there’s your history lesson for today. This little goodie was shared with me and I found it both interesting and enlightening, and now you too know how that strange little song became a Christmas Carol.
We don’t sing that carol at SS Cyril & Methodius Catholic Church in North Judson, but I think we’re more Bohemian than English. I think there’re some Pollock’s in there too. Plus the hillbillies, Wow ! A universal church right here in town, who’d thought it, and a Catholic Church at that. Oh, that’s right “Catholic” means universal church, now I get it, that’s the way it was meant to be all the time.
Before we talk again Christmas will have come and gone for this year 2009, and I’ll be on my way to Hilton Head Island SC. The day after Christmas, my son John, his wife, Jamie, the 1wife and I are off for a week or so into warmer surroundings. We will walk beside the ocean, pull off our shoes and step into the water, even if it’s cold, we still will, ‘cause when you’re hillbilly and walk beside the ocean, that’s just what ya do. We went to Hilton Head last year, and been looking forward to going back for a year, come next Saturday, we’re on our way. I’m looking forward to hugging my sisters, spending time with my family, leaving footprints in the sand.
Think I’ll take my laptop and write along the way, so ya may hear from me come next Sunday somewhere between here and there sounding like a travel brochure. One of the fun things ‘bout traveling any distance is stopping at the Cracker Barrels. Love those places. Same food every time, no surprises there, ya always know what it gona taste like. I’m not big on eating stuff I don’t know on a first name basis.
One thing ‘bout us hillbillies, we tend to be meat and potatoes eaters. But I do draw the line on some things, examples being, I don’t eat anything that swims, filters, pumps, thinks, or reproduces. I’m a carnivore and damn proud of it, but some things are just not right for me to eat. Now I’m not speaking for all hillbillies, but for me, I just never added those things to the list of what for supper. It won’t surprise me at all if this week I get a dozen receipts for my banned menu items.
Talk ‘bout meat eating reminded me of an article I read recently which identified the latest research on weight gain and the consumption of fat in the diet. Folks that love fat, gona love this. Eating fat has no real impact on the amount of weight gain over a period of time. So all ya fat lovers who visit the East Wing, “getter dun” So fat not bad, not good, but not bad. This sounds like something the Federal Government needs to get involved in. I can just see it now, the President appoints a Fat Czar. Which we probably need with those fat cats in Washington and all.
Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan.
From the East Wing, In the Tropics, Capricorn and Cancer, Twelve Different Days of Christmas, The Fat Czar
I wish you well.
BobbyRay
As the days continue to grow shorter, and the official start of winter is rapidly approaching, I’m looking forward to that precise moment of the 2009 Winter Solstice. It’s tomorrow, Monday the 21st at 11:47 PM CST.
Ya’d think something as important as the official start of winter would have a special allotted amount of time so everybody could get into the festivities, but nooooo! A slice of time, only a slice of time so thin ya can’t even see it. So thin, by the time it takes to say winter, it’s occurred and spring, summer and fall are all forever frozen into the back roads of the memories of 2009. An interesting note on winter is that it’s the only season stretching across into a new year. Winter can correctly be referred to as the winter of 2008-2009 or this upcoming winter of 2009 – 2010.
The real noticeable thing ‘bout winter starting up is what happens with the sun’s path across the sky. The winter solstice occurs either December 21 or 22, when the sun shines directly over the tropic of Capricorn. The summer solstice occurs either June 20 or 21, when the sun shines directly over the tropic of Cancer. In the Southern Hemisphere, the winter and summer solstices are reversed, so the folks in South America are getting ready to start summer as we get ready to start winter. The reason it’s not the very same day each year like Christmas is the 25th of December, or your birthday being the same every year, has to do with the earth’s rotation round the sun and that trip not being exact 365 days each and every time. So very once in a while we have to use a makeup day. That Feb. 29th thing is a makeup day.
There are three imaginary lines running across the surface of the earth. The equator, the Tropic of Cancer, and the Tropic of Capricorn. While the equator is the longest line of latitude on the earth (the line where the earth is widest in an east-west direction), the tropics are based on the sun's position in relation to the earth at two points of the year.
The equator is located at zero degrees latitude. The equator runs through Indonesia, Ecuador, northern Brazil, the Congo, and Kenya, among other places. Another way to remember the equator is, that if the earth had a belly button, the equator would be right ‘round there. It’s just a 100 miles or so shy of 25,000 miles all the way around the earth. Now that’s a long way, I could go from the East Wing to Chicago and back over 100 times and still not get that many miles. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’ve been to Chicago one too many times already and I’m not going another hundred times, that’s for sure.
On the equator, the sun is directly overhead at noon on the two equinoxes, in March and September. The equator divides the earth into the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.
The Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn each lie at 23.5 degrees latitude. The Tropic of Cancer is located at 23.5° North of the equator and runs through Mexico, the Bahamas, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, India, and southern China. The Tropic of Capricorn lies at 23.5° South of the equator and runs through Australia, Chile, southern Brazil.
The tropics are the two lines where the sun is directly overhead at noon on the two solstices. In June and December. The sun is directly overhead at noon on the Tropic of Cancer on June 21 (the beginning of summer in the Northern Hemisphere and the beginning of winter in the Southern Hemisphere) and the sun is directly overhead at noon on the Tropic of Capricorn on December 21 (the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere and the beginning of summer in the Southern Hemisphere).
The area bounded by the Tropic of Cancer on the north and Tropic of Capricorn on the south is known as the "tropics." This area does not experience seasons because the sun is always high in the sky. Only higher latitudes, north of the Tropic of Cancer and south of the Tropic of Capricorn, experience seasonal changes in the weather. Such a pity, but ya can never make snow angels in the tropics. Maybe they do ‘em in sand. Bet they don’t even know ‘bout snow angels. Maybe they don’t even know ‘bout snow.
Now after all that whooptee do explanation ‘bout the Tropics, Capricorn and Cancer, it’s not like these lines I’ve described are laid out with a chalk line or painted by one of those line striping trucks spraying that yellow paint down the middle of the road. Did ye ever see one of those idiots who just had to pass that paint truck before the yellow paint dries, and sure enough they mess up the paint, ‘n get it all over the road. I hate when that happens.
These are invisible lines, ya can’t see ‘em, ya either measure with instruments designed to do just such calculations using stars and stuff, or close your eyes and act like ya see ‘em. But all ya really need to know is when the sun gets as far north as it’s gona go, that’s Tropic of Cancer, when the sun gets as far south as it’s gona go, that’s Tropic of Capricorn, and the equator is the line in the middle. Like if the earth had a belly button the equator would run right ‘round there. All that other stuff, well I threw it in there just in case ya thought I’d spent all my time studying foreign languages, and learning to cuss in cat.
With what’s said about the latitude lines and how it’s used to reference the movement of the sun across the sky to identify the change of seasons, it just seems right to say a little something ‘bout longitude. I’m sure someone’s gona say “oh well, here he goes again off on some more crap that don’t makes sense. But I’m telling ya, the longitude lines are like the latitude lines, ‘cept they go east – west rather than north – south. There’s a spot on the world that all time is measured from, it’s on one of those longitude lines. Now that line is real important too, but we’ll save that story for another day.
An easy way to understand latitude and longitude is it’s kinda like the 911 address systems. All such systems have division lines, both north-south and east-west. Once ya learn the division lines, the rest just kinda fills in by its self.
All those little GPS screens ya got plugged in and setting on your dash, looking just sooo cool, well without latitude and longitude as universal units of measuring distance on the Earth, that little toy on the dash would not be there and ya’d still be lost.
Bet the little brown eyed friend of mine, that hummingbird from summer past, she has built in GPS and went to South America for their summertime. Either way, come spring time in the valley, she’ll be back to the East Wing. ‘Cause once in the East Wing, forever destined to return, so she’ll be back, when it’s spring time in the valley. I’m sure if her GPS got her down there, it’ll bring her back. I’m already looking forward to seeing her.
Did ya ever wonder how leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have anything to do with Christmas?
Well there was about a 300 year period that Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. It had to do with the English King getting mad at the Pope. Now when you’re the king ya can do mean things to people and get away with it. Somebody during that time wrote a carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.
-The partridge in a pear tree is Jesus Christ.
-Two turtle doves are the Old and New Testaments.
-Three French hens stand for faith, hope and love.
-The four calling birds are the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.
-The five golden rings represent the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.
-The six geese a-laying stand for the six days of creation.
-Seven swans a-swimming represents the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.
-The eight maids a-milking are the eight beatitudes.
-Nine ladies dancing are the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.
-The ten lords a-leaping are the ten commandments.
-The eleven pipers piping stand for the eleven faithful disciples.
-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.
So there’s your history lesson for today. This little goodie was shared with me and I found it both interesting and enlightening, and now you too know how that strange little song became a Christmas Carol.
We don’t sing that carol at SS Cyril & Methodius Catholic Church in North Judson, but I think we’re more Bohemian than English. I think there’re some Pollock’s in there too. Plus the hillbillies, Wow ! A universal church right here in town, who’d thought it, and a Catholic Church at that. Oh, that’s right “Catholic” means universal church, now I get it, that’s the way it was meant to be all the time.
Before we talk again Christmas will have come and gone for this year 2009, and I’ll be on my way to Hilton Head Island SC. The day after Christmas, my son John, his wife, Jamie, the 1wife and I are off for a week or so into warmer surroundings. We will walk beside the ocean, pull off our shoes and step into the water, even if it’s cold, we still will, ‘cause when you’re hillbilly and walk beside the ocean, that’s just what ya do. We went to Hilton Head last year, and been looking forward to going back for a year, come next Saturday, we’re on our way. I’m looking forward to hugging my sisters, spending time with my family, leaving footprints in the sand.
Think I’ll take my laptop and write along the way, so ya may hear from me come next Sunday somewhere between here and there sounding like a travel brochure. One of the fun things ‘bout traveling any distance is stopping at the Cracker Barrels. Love those places. Same food every time, no surprises there, ya always know what it gona taste like. I’m not big on eating stuff I don’t know on a first name basis.
One thing ‘bout us hillbillies, we tend to be meat and potatoes eaters. But I do draw the line on some things, examples being, I don’t eat anything that swims, filters, pumps, thinks, or reproduces. I’m a carnivore and damn proud of it, but some things are just not right for me to eat. Now I’m not speaking for all hillbillies, but for me, I just never added those things to the list of what for supper. It won’t surprise me at all if this week I get a dozen receipts for my banned menu items.
Talk ‘bout meat eating reminded me of an article I read recently which identified the latest research on weight gain and the consumption of fat in the diet. Folks that love fat, gona love this. Eating fat has no real impact on the amount of weight gain over a period of time. So all ya fat lovers who visit the East Wing, “getter dun” So fat not bad, not good, but not bad. This sounds like something the Federal Government needs to get involved in. I can just see it now, the President appoints a Fat Czar. Which we probably need with those fat cats in Washington and all.
Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan.
From the East Wing, In the Tropics, Capricorn and Cancer, Twelve Different Days of Christmas, The Fat Czar
I wish you well.
BobbyRay
Sunday, December 13, 2009
From the East Wing, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, The 2 cat Christmas Tree, and The Flu Bug
Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.
My friend in Mississippi who bragged a few days about getting snow this year before I did, is now bragging that he doesn’t have temperatures in the teens and wind chills below zero. That guy’s gona make me mad one of these days, but ya gotta watch out what ya say ‘bout those folks in Mississippi ‘cause they’re all pretty much related. Say a bad word ‘bout one and make ¾ of the whole state mad at ya. Kinda clannish down there. Tight gene pool in Mississippi. Maybe too much cotton, OxyContin, that is.
The white Angel continues to sit either in my lap on in front of the monitor at all times when I occupy the East Wing. It seems any other location and she’s exposed to sudden and unprovoked attack from Sophia. Sophia just can’t get over the idea that the Angel has gone to the “dark side” as she puts it.
Sophia is spending much of her time working on her Red Cat Republican Email Listing. Says she’ll have more emails in her list than those who read my ramblings from the East Wing. Told her I didn’t know there were that many republicans left. Boy did that make her mad.
I can always tell when I’ve made Sophia mad. She hisses at the Pup Baby, slaps at the Angel, tries to bite my ankle and stomps out of the East Wing looking much like the back side of Richard Nixon. She always ends up at the same place, in the Cat House, where she sits in front of her autographed picture of Herbert Hoover and meditates. (damn republican cat)
Last week in the course of a conversation with a client he used a phrase I had heard before but for some reason it seemed to perk my curiosity this time, so I decided to see if I could track down its’ origin.
The phrase "between the devil and the deep blue sea" has been used at least 400 years by the men who sail the ships. The "devil" referred to one of two seams that ran the length of a ship's wooden deck. One was on the inside, closest to the ship's railing, and the other was on the outside, near the waterline of the ship's hull. Those seams, like the rest of the ship's planked deck and frame, had to be regularly caulked to prevent leaks. In high seas, this job could be deadly, with sailors in terrible danger of being washed overboard. Being "the devil to caulk," the seams therefore earned their nickname. The choice "between the devil and the deep blue sea" soon came to mean a selection between two really bad choices.
Knowing nothing about the sailing of boats, I should have asked my brother-in-law Ed, he knows all ‘bout sailing, even had a sailing boat, the kind that goes on the ocean, not the kind that goes on Bass Lake. The number of times I’ve been in a boat can be counted on one hand with fingers to spare. Don’t know how to swim, never lived near any water worth swimming in. The only time I ever spent any time in the water was with Lou when I would be at South Fork. We all played in the waters of South Fork. As a child, South Fork was the best of times.
A couple weeks ago we were talking ‘bout weather watching and forgot to tell ya about how ya can forecast the coming winter weather using a persimmon. Heard this one when I was just a kid, and for some reason it always stuck in my mind. I always wanted to try this one, never did.
All ya need do is cut open a persimmon seed and look at the shape of the kernel inside. If the kernel is spoon-shaped, lots of heavy, wet snow will fall. If it is fork-shaped, ya can expect powdery, light snow and a mild winter. If the kernel is knife-shaped, icy, cutting winds will occur for the next few months.
Now that little ditty is all well and good except one thing, when was the last time ya saw a persimmon? Yap, know what ya mean, me too. It’s been a while. I think there was a Persimmon Tree growing north of Toto when I was a kid, seems like it was owned by a friend of my dad, a man by the name of Green Scutchfield.
One time Green Scutchfield and my dad decided to grow tobacco, there just north of Toto. Now these were two mountain men from southeastern Kentucky who smoked cigarettes so it just seemed natural to grow tobacco. The thought never crossed their minds to see if it was legal to do so.
I don’t remember all the details but do remember hearing them talking ‘bout what a pity it was a man can’t grow his own tobacco without the government telling ‘um what to do. It sure would be interesting to get their prospective on the current state of this country and the socialistic direction the current administration has taken the nation. We the people voted for change. Our nation changed. Did we get what we voted for?
If my memory serves me right, persimmons are ‘bout the size of plums, if ya bite into it before it’s ripe, ya’ll know. The pucker factor is high with unripe persimmons. I know, I did. Ripe, they taste like chicken, no I’m joking, they taste somewhere between plums and dates. When they’re ripe they taste really good, before they’re ripe, they’ll pucker ya to death, almost.
Persimmons were called the “Fruit of the Gods” by the Greeks, but we all know ‘bout the Greeks and their Gods, like they had a God for damn near everything. Kinda reminds me of President Obama and his Czars. As I typed that line, Sophia, from the back of my chair, with her little calico paw patted my shoulder as if to say “good boy”. It doesn’t take a lot to get back into the good graces of a Republican Calico Cat. I love the way that cat smiles when she’s happy.
A few days ago a lady called my office and asked me how I kept my cats out of my Christmas Tree. Told her I don’t, I get the Christmas Tree they sell for people with cats. She’d never heard of that kind. I said “oh sure, I get that kind every year”. Told her I get the 2 cat kind, but they make ‘em all the way up to a 10 cat tree. Said she had 4 cats. She wanted to know where she could get one, I told her most any place that sells Christmas Trees have ‘em but they don’t advertise ‘em so ya gotta ask for it special, ‘cause they usually keep that kind in the back. Just tell ‘em ya want the 4 cat tree. She left the office excited over the prospect of a 4 cat Christmas Tree. Tis the Season.
From the way Sophia handled the Christmas Tree last year I wasn’t too far off. After removing all the ornaments she could reach from the floor, Sophia climbed the tree. Once she discovered the joy of Christmas Tree climbing, it became a daily obsession, each morning, noon and night, run up and down inside the Christmas Tree. We became used to it and hardly paid any attention to Sophia climbing the tree, that is until the Christmas Tree was found, one day after work, tipped over. Just came home one day and the tree was on its side with Sophia wondering ‘round in the branches. Sophia said she didn’t do nothing! It was Mustina! I could tell by looking at Mustina, she didn’t knock over anything, she’s a democrat bird dog, not a tree climbing calico republican cat.
I think this year I will get the 2 cat kind, I’m sure the Angel will have an interest in Christmas Tree climbing this year, it being her first Christmas and all. So I might as well be ready with the 2 cat kind. Maybe the Angel will find something in common with Sophia, politics didn’t work out for them.
It seem the Swine Flu, or the H1N1, or the regular flu or who know what, came to visit both me and the 1wife in the last 48 hours. Tough two days. We continue to be under the weather so to speak. I have spent most of my time in close proximity to the bathroom while Regina is more lucky in that regard and spends her time lying on the couch. When the 1wife’s lying on the couch in the daylight, I know she’s sick.
Mustina must somehow feel compelled to take care of me during this spell of illness, maybe as a payback for the times I’ve devoted the her in her times of need. This little dog has not left my side since Friday at 11:30 PM, when the first symptoms appeared. She’s never followed alongside me every step the way, as she has these last two days. A special friend of me, that Pup Baby James.
I just decided that me and the she must have the regular flu, ‘cause the government said we were too old to get the H1N1 flu, so no shot for you.
Even with a little flu to break up the routine, life is good in the East Wing, the Gray Lady is fast asleep on her couch, Sophia occupies her high spot in the room, that being the back of my chair, the white Angle is in my lap, and the Pup Baby is lying at my side, while the fire place keeps us warm this second Sunday of December.
Your company has been the highlight of my day, as always, thanks for coming by.
Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan
From the East Wing, Between the devil and the deep blue sea, the 2 cat Christmas Tree, The Flu Bug.
I wish you well
BobbyRay
My friend in Mississippi who bragged a few days about getting snow this year before I did, is now bragging that he doesn’t have temperatures in the teens and wind chills below zero. That guy’s gona make me mad one of these days, but ya gotta watch out what ya say ‘bout those folks in Mississippi ‘cause they’re all pretty much related. Say a bad word ‘bout one and make ¾ of the whole state mad at ya. Kinda clannish down there. Tight gene pool in Mississippi. Maybe too much cotton, OxyContin, that is.
The white Angel continues to sit either in my lap on in front of the monitor at all times when I occupy the East Wing. It seems any other location and she’s exposed to sudden and unprovoked attack from Sophia. Sophia just can’t get over the idea that the Angel has gone to the “dark side” as she puts it.
Sophia is spending much of her time working on her Red Cat Republican Email Listing. Says she’ll have more emails in her list than those who read my ramblings from the East Wing. Told her I didn’t know there were that many republicans left. Boy did that make her mad.
I can always tell when I’ve made Sophia mad. She hisses at the Pup Baby, slaps at the Angel, tries to bite my ankle and stomps out of the East Wing looking much like the back side of Richard Nixon. She always ends up at the same place, in the Cat House, where she sits in front of her autographed picture of Herbert Hoover and meditates. (damn republican cat)
Last week in the course of a conversation with a client he used a phrase I had heard before but for some reason it seemed to perk my curiosity this time, so I decided to see if I could track down its’ origin.
The phrase "between the devil and the deep blue sea" has been used at least 400 years by the men who sail the ships. The "devil" referred to one of two seams that ran the length of a ship's wooden deck. One was on the inside, closest to the ship's railing, and the other was on the outside, near the waterline of the ship's hull. Those seams, like the rest of the ship's planked deck and frame, had to be regularly caulked to prevent leaks. In high seas, this job could be deadly, with sailors in terrible danger of being washed overboard. Being "the devil to caulk," the seams therefore earned their nickname. The choice "between the devil and the deep blue sea" soon came to mean a selection between two really bad choices.
Knowing nothing about the sailing of boats, I should have asked my brother-in-law Ed, he knows all ‘bout sailing, even had a sailing boat, the kind that goes on the ocean, not the kind that goes on Bass Lake. The number of times I’ve been in a boat can be counted on one hand with fingers to spare. Don’t know how to swim, never lived near any water worth swimming in. The only time I ever spent any time in the water was with Lou when I would be at South Fork. We all played in the waters of South Fork. As a child, South Fork was the best of times.
A couple weeks ago we were talking ‘bout weather watching and forgot to tell ya about how ya can forecast the coming winter weather using a persimmon. Heard this one when I was just a kid, and for some reason it always stuck in my mind. I always wanted to try this one, never did.
All ya need do is cut open a persimmon seed and look at the shape of the kernel inside. If the kernel is spoon-shaped, lots of heavy, wet snow will fall. If it is fork-shaped, ya can expect powdery, light snow and a mild winter. If the kernel is knife-shaped, icy, cutting winds will occur for the next few months.
Now that little ditty is all well and good except one thing, when was the last time ya saw a persimmon? Yap, know what ya mean, me too. It’s been a while. I think there was a Persimmon Tree growing north of Toto when I was a kid, seems like it was owned by a friend of my dad, a man by the name of Green Scutchfield.
One time Green Scutchfield and my dad decided to grow tobacco, there just north of Toto. Now these were two mountain men from southeastern Kentucky who smoked cigarettes so it just seemed natural to grow tobacco. The thought never crossed their minds to see if it was legal to do so.
I don’t remember all the details but do remember hearing them talking ‘bout what a pity it was a man can’t grow his own tobacco without the government telling ‘um what to do. It sure would be interesting to get their prospective on the current state of this country and the socialistic direction the current administration has taken the nation. We the people voted for change. Our nation changed. Did we get what we voted for?
If my memory serves me right, persimmons are ‘bout the size of plums, if ya bite into it before it’s ripe, ya’ll know. The pucker factor is high with unripe persimmons. I know, I did. Ripe, they taste like chicken, no I’m joking, they taste somewhere between plums and dates. When they’re ripe they taste really good, before they’re ripe, they’ll pucker ya to death, almost.
Persimmons were called the “Fruit of the Gods” by the Greeks, but we all know ‘bout the Greeks and their Gods, like they had a God for damn near everything. Kinda reminds me of President Obama and his Czars. As I typed that line, Sophia, from the back of my chair, with her little calico paw patted my shoulder as if to say “good boy”. It doesn’t take a lot to get back into the good graces of a Republican Calico Cat. I love the way that cat smiles when she’s happy.
A few days ago a lady called my office and asked me how I kept my cats out of my Christmas Tree. Told her I don’t, I get the Christmas Tree they sell for people with cats. She’d never heard of that kind. I said “oh sure, I get that kind every year”. Told her I get the 2 cat kind, but they make ‘em all the way up to a 10 cat tree. Said she had 4 cats. She wanted to know where she could get one, I told her most any place that sells Christmas Trees have ‘em but they don’t advertise ‘em so ya gotta ask for it special, ‘cause they usually keep that kind in the back. Just tell ‘em ya want the 4 cat tree. She left the office excited over the prospect of a 4 cat Christmas Tree. Tis the Season.
From the way Sophia handled the Christmas Tree last year I wasn’t too far off. After removing all the ornaments she could reach from the floor, Sophia climbed the tree. Once she discovered the joy of Christmas Tree climbing, it became a daily obsession, each morning, noon and night, run up and down inside the Christmas Tree. We became used to it and hardly paid any attention to Sophia climbing the tree, that is until the Christmas Tree was found, one day after work, tipped over. Just came home one day and the tree was on its side with Sophia wondering ‘round in the branches. Sophia said she didn’t do nothing! It was Mustina! I could tell by looking at Mustina, she didn’t knock over anything, she’s a democrat bird dog, not a tree climbing calico republican cat.
I think this year I will get the 2 cat kind, I’m sure the Angel will have an interest in Christmas Tree climbing this year, it being her first Christmas and all. So I might as well be ready with the 2 cat kind. Maybe the Angel will find something in common with Sophia, politics didn’t work out for them.
It seem the Swine Flu, or the H1N1, or the regular flu or who know what, came to visit both me and the 1wife in the last 48 hours. Tough two days. We continue to be under the weather so to speak. I have spent most of my time in close proximity to the bathroom while Regina is more lucky in that regard and spends her time lying on the couch. When the 1wife’s lying on the couch in the daylight, I know she’s sick.
Mustina must somehow feel compelled to take care of me during this spell of illness, maybe as a payback for the times I’ve devoted the her in her times of need. This little dog has not left my side since Friday at 11:30 PM, when the first symptoms appeared. She’s never followed alongside me every step the way, as she has these last two days. A special friend of me, that Pup Baby James.
I just decided that me and the she must have the regular flu, ‘cause the government said we were too old to get the H1N1 flu, so no shot for you.
Even with a little flu to break up the routine, life is good in the East Wing, the Gray Lady is fast asleep on her couch, Sophia occupies her high spot in the room, that being the back of my chair, the white Angle is in my lap, and the Pup Baby is lying at my side, while the fire place keeps us warm this second Sunday of December.
Your company has been the highlight of my day, as always, thanks for coming by.
Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan
From the East Wing, Between the devil and the deep blue sea, the 2 cat Christmas Tree, The Flu Bug.
I wish you well
BobbyRay
Sunday, December 6, 2009
From the East Wing making Snow Cream, Bûche de Noël, and Cussing with Sophia the Republican Cat
Greeting to all and Welcome new friends to the East Wing.
Wow! Did I ever get comments about Marsha Yockey! Seems some people take exception to my claim of having seen the ugliest woman ever. Some of those even provided photographic evidence to support their case. Strong cases indeed, ugliest damn pictures I ever saw.
Based on the photographic evidence, I’ll yield the title of having seen the ugliest woman in the world. Of the pictures I’ve seen, Marsha Yockey is not in the top 10. Still ugly, mind you, but not in the top 10. Not even in the top 10 of ugly, and that’s saying a lot.
The emails had several inquires as to what I was talking ‘bout, “Snow Cream” Ya could just tell they weren’t coal miners’ babies, ‘cause if they were, they’d know ‘bout Snow Cream.
Now in southeastern Kentucky, at TipTop, ya don’t get a lot of snow in the winter time. Rain a lot, considerable ice, fog a lot, but not a lot of snow like here in northern Indiana. So when it did snow in the mountains, it was special.
The most beautiful site I’ve experienced in the mountains was a night drive from Prestonsburg to Paintsville on a 4 lane high speed super highway carved through rock mountains. With a December Full Moon overhead, and an inch of fresh snow on mountains. The whole world appeared as if you had stepped inside a white neon light. Ya could drive at midnight without the lights. Few things in nature can compare to beauty of snow on the mountains in the full moon light. It’s beyond sparkle. A spectacular site to behold. A special treasurer to those who are blessed to see how God decorates his mountains for Christmas. We decorate a tree, he decorates the mountains. I am forever grateful to have seen it one time.
With snow being somewhat scarce, having enough snow for Snow Cream is even more scarce, or scarceser, as any good hillbilly boy would say. In order to make Snow Cream ya had to have at least 5 -6 inches of fresh snow. I don’t know why ya had to have 5-6 inches, that’s just what my mama said. One time I wanted her to make Snow Cream, “No, there’s not enough snow”. Must have been 3-4 inches, but not enough.
But when we did get enough, mama sends me outside into the new snow with the big dish pan and instructions to scoop up the snow but don’t get closer than 2 inches to the ground, and don’t you dare bring in a single speck of dirt in the snow or out it goes, and ya gotta do it again. The excitement is high but ya just know that ya gotta get it right, else I got not only my mama yelling at me, but keep in mind, I live in a family of sisters, so I got them yelling at me too. So I got it right, and the place I got it right is always on Flat Rock.
Flat Rock was a special spot kinda close to the school house, an unusual place, a place that is almost perfectly flat. It’s about maybe a third the size of a football field. There’s no trees, no grass, no dirt, just rock, flat, smooth, granite rock. Smooth from millions and millions of years of mountain rains washing over the surface of Flat Rock. It’s so flat there a marble won’t roll off if ya lay it down, so hard ya can’t break it with a hammer, I tried. We played at Flat Rock a lot. One of the very few places at TipTop that did not go either up or down.
The big dish pan I brought had a one inch brim around the top. It’s the ideal thing for scooping the snow at Flat Rock. Never a worry of scooping too close to the dirt. Just touch the brim to Flat Rock and one giant scoop then off to home. One time running downhill carrying the pan of snow I fell and all the snow flew out, so it’s back to Flat Rock for a second dip of the day. Got that done so fast they didn’t even know I had trouble along the way.
When I got home my mama took the big pan of snow, added some real cold milk, sugar, love, and vanilla then mixed it all up and put it into the freezer to “set”. Now I’m wanting to eat it right then and there but it had “set” I don’t know why, but it had to “set” in the freezer for two hours. That maybe was the longest two hours in the history of the State of Kentucky, waiting for Snow Cream to “set”.
Sometimes I’d go back outside and play in the snow. Go to Flat Rock and make Snow Angels. Play with my dog in the snow. Go play with my cousins, the Cole Gang, Pinto, Paul, and Jr. Just ‘bout every time my mama made Snow Cream all the cousins found out the Snow Cream was setting up in the freezer, and by the time the Snow Cream had “set” there was most always a house full of kids & cousins.
When the two hours finally passed, my mama would count heads, then scoop out the Snow Cream. The most amazing thing was that no matter how many heads were counted, we all got Snow Cream and there was always just enough.
The taste of Snow Cream is so special, remembered to this day. The taste is a combination gift from God, blended with my mama’s love. It’s Snow Cream. When ya were coal miner’s babies ya just didn’t have a lot of material things in life, but ya had Snow Cream and it was enough. We did not want, we had love in our family. We still do.
Good thing Christmas is in December or else it would be a very drab month indeed. Days getting shorter and shorter almost right up to Christmas. Cold and windy, the world has turned gray waiting for the snow to put its white magic blanket over us all. This year the magic blanket is yet to come. While at the same time it snowed last Friday in Mississippi. Got an email from a guy in Mississippi bragging that he got snow before the East Wing. Told him he was two up on me, I didn’t get Katrina either, so I’m glad he’s two up.
Forever people have been determined to brighten this darkest month of the year, December, by creating festivals of light and ceremonies of renewal and stuff like that. This is the month that the sun starts back north, and not a day too soon in the minds of many. For a lot of people it’s not as easy to get excited about cold weather as warm, but oh well, it’s winter that makes spring so special.
December has long since lost its original meaning of “ten” (decem), for the old Roman calendar’s tenth month, and now is more synonymous with “decorate.” The Yule log, evergreens, colored glass ornaments, wassail bowl, and now electricity has crept into Christmas, big time.
Wassail is a hot, spiced punch often associated with Christmas. Particularly popular in Germanic countries, the term itself is a contraction of the Middle English phrase wæs hæil, meaning "be healthy". The practice of wassailing is just going ‘round to everybody’s house and drink this stuff. In Kentucky they did pretty much the same thing, just pronounced it a little different, not Wassail, Moonshine.
A Yule log is a big wooden log which is burned in the fireplace as a part of traditional Yule or Christmas celebrations in several European cultures. It can be a part of the Winter Solstice festival or the Twelve Days of Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or Twelfth Night.
The closest I come to having a Yule Log is my remote controlled, gas fed fireplace in the East Wing. It seems to work out ok so far. This way I don’t have to go out in the cold and chop trees and all that, just push the button and fire happens. I set the fireplace on automatic so the 2girldogs don’t get cold when I’m gone. I think the Gray Lady could work the remote with a little instructions.
The expression "Yule log" has also come to refer to log-shaped Christmas cakes, also known as "chocolate logs" or "Bûche de Noël". I just threw that little tiddy in there just in case anybody wondered if BobbyRay knew a foreign language. So now ya know. For many years my daughter and I made the Bûche de Noël (there I go again) each Christmas Eve day, maybe we’ll make it again this year. It was a fun thing to do with my daughter, Angela.
Another really interesting old English tradition similar to the Yule Log is the Ashen Faggot. Ya may never have heard of this as it’s not nearly as well know at the Yule Log but somewhat similar. The Ashen Faggot thing is where people make a big bundle of sticks and twigs, they go to each other’s house, make a big bond fire, throw in the bundles and drink Wassail. Lots of traditions are associated with this one, has to do with the way the bundle is tied, which tie burns thru first, who in the community will be the next to marry. Now all these traditions have antecedents lost in time and all share a common goal, to make the season bright.
Sure seems like people a long time ago got more information from watching a fire then than we do today, now it seems, we just wonder if a Meth Lab burned the place down.
The more I think about the old Romans jerking ‘round with the calendar, the more I think they must have been democrats, to do something like that. I think the original Monday Holiday idea may have come from Nero, I understand he was a party animal extraordinary, and also big on fireworks. A guy like that would look forward to a three day weekend every chance he got.
This time of the year the 2girldog democrats are about as active as stamps on an envelopes. I think Sophia the Republican Cat has to wake ‘em up to go eat ‘n pee. Good thing Sophia isn’t in Washington, else she’d just let ‘em pee in their sleep.
I thought Sophia and the Angel were becoming the best of buds. That relationship has not yet blossomed. Turns out the Angel wouldn’t convert to the Red Cat Republican Party, so Sophia continues to slap her around from time to time, just to stay in practice, and the cat wars continue. The Angel has figured out that her proximity to me is in direct proportion the her health and safety and overall wellbeing.
When I sit at my computer the Angel lays between my wireless keyboard and the monitor, while at the same time Sophia continues to occupy her favorite spot, that being the back of my chair and when I push back from the keyboard the Angel relocated to my lap. It is from this position that they continue the verbal combat. The war is not as much physical as it used to be, it’s now more verbal and mental.
What I’m noticing, much like the Rosetta Stone System of learning a Foreign Language, I’m becoming most proficient in cat hissing. I think I’ve learned to cuss in cat. That’s language number three right in there with Bûche de Noël.
I think these two cats are using me as a demilitarized zone, but I can’t speak Korean. Just cat cussing and Bûche de Noël.
Such a beautiful winter type day this first Sunday in December 2009, waiting for the snow to come to the East Wing and all the while enjoying your fine company by the fireplace.
Stay Safe in Bagdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing making Snow Cream, Bûche de Noël, and Cussing with Sophia the Republican Cat
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Wow! Did I ever get comments about Marsha Yockey! Seems some people take exception to my claim of having seen the ugliest woman ever. Some of those even provided photographic evidence to support their case. Strong cases indeed, ugliest damn pictures I ever saw.
Based on the photographic evidence, I’ll yield the title of having seen the ugliest woman in the world. Of the pictures I’ve seen, Marsha Yockey is not in the top 10. Still ugly, mind you, but not in the top 10. Not even in the top 10 of ugly, and that’s saying a lot.
The emails had several inquires as to what I was talking ‘bout, “Snow Cream” Ya could just tell they weren’t coal miners’ babies, ‘cause if they were, they’d know ‘bout Snow Cream.
Now in southeastern Kentucky, at TipTop, ya don’t get a lot of snow in the winter time. Rain a lot, considerable ice, fog a lot, but not a lot of snow like here in northern Indiana. So when it did snow in the mountains, it was special.
The most beautiful site I’ve experienced in the mountains was a night drive from Prestonsburg to Paintsville on a 4 lane high speed super highway carved through rock mountains. With a December Full Moon overhead, and an inch of fresh snow on mountains. The whole world appeared as if you had stepped inside a white neon light. Ya could drive at midnight without the lights. Few things in nature can compare to beauty of snow on the mountains in the full moon light. It’s beyond sparkle. A spectacular site to behold. A special treasurer to those who are blessed to see how God decorates his mountains for Christmas. We decorate a tree, he decorates the mountains. I am forever grateful to have seen it one time.
With snow being somewhat scarce, having enough snow for Snow Cream is even more scarce, or scarceser, as any good hillbilly boy would say. In order to make Snow Cream ya had to have at least 5 -6 inches of fresh snow. I don’t know why ya had to have 5-6 inches, that’s just what my mama said. One time I wanted her to make Snow Cream, “No, there’s not enough snow”. Must have been 3-4 inches, but not enough.
But when we did get enough, mama sends me outside into the new snow with the big dish pan and instructions to scoop up the snow but don’t get closer than 2 inches to the ground, and don’t you dare bring in a single speck of dirt in the snow or out it goes, and ya gotta do it again. The excitement is high but ya just know that ya gotta get it right, else I got not only my mama yelling at me, but keep in mind, I live in a family of sisters, so I got them yelling at me too. So I got it right, and the place I got it right is always on Flat Rock.
Flat Rock was a special spot kinda close to the school house, an unusual place, a place that is almost perfectly flat. It’s about maybe a third the size of a football field. There’s no trees, no grass, no dirt, just rock, flat, smooth, granite rock. Smooth from millions and millions of years of mountain rains washing over the surface of Flat Rock. It’s so flat there a marble won’t roll off if ya lay it down, so hard ya can’t break it with a hammer, I tried. We played at Flat Rock a lot. One of the very few places at TipTop that did not go either up or down.
The big dish pan I brought had a one inch brim around the top. It’s the ideal thing for scooping the snow at Flat Rock. Never a worry of scooping too close to the dirt. Just touch the brim to Flat Rock and one giant scoop then off to home. One time running downhill carrying the pan of snow I fell and all the snow flew out, so it’s back to Flat Rock for a second dip of the day. Got that done so fast they didn’t even know I had trouble along the way.
When I got home my mama took the big pan of snow, added some real cold milk, sugar, love, and vanilla then mixed it all up and put it into the freezer to “set”. Now I’m wanting to eat it right then and there but it had “set” I don’t know why, but it had to “set” in the freezer for two hours. That maybe was the longest two hours in the history of the State of Kentucky, waiting for Snow Cream to “set”.
Sometimes I’d go back outside and play in the snow. Go to Flat Rock and make Snow Angels. Play with my dog in the snow. Go play with my cousins, the Cole Gang, Pinto, Paul, and Jr. Just ‘bout every time my mama made Snow Cream all the cousins found out the Snow Cream was setting up in the freezer, and by the time the Snow Cream had “set” there was most always a house full of kids & cousins.
When the two hours finally passed, my mama would count heads, then scoop out the Snow Cream. The most amazing thing was that no matter how many heads were counted, we all got Snow Cream and there was always just enough.
The taste of Snow Cream is so special, remembered to this day. The taste is a combination gift from God, blended with my mama’s love. It’s Snow Cream. When ya were coal miner’s babies ya just didn’t have a lot of material things in life, but ya had Snow Cream and it was enough. We did not want, we had love in our family. We still do.
Good thing Christmas is in December or else it would be a very drab month indeed. Days getting shorter and shorter almost right up to Christmas. Cold and windy, the world has turned gray waiting for the snow to put its white magic blanket over us all. This year the magic blanket is yet to come. While at the same time it snowed last Friday in Mississippi. Got an email from a guy in Mississippi bragging that he got snow before the East Wing. Told him he was two up on me, I didn’t get Katrina either, so I’m glad he’s two up.
Forever people have been determined to brighten this darkest month of the year, December, by creating festivals of light and ceremonies of renewal and stuff like that. This is the month that the sun starts back north, and not a day too soon in the minds of many. For a lot of people it’s not as easy to get excited about cold weather as warm, but oh well, it’s winter that makes spring so special.
December has long since lost its original meaning of “ten” (decem), for the old Roman calendar’s tenth month, and now is more synonymous with “decorate.” The Yule log, evergreens, colored glass ornaments, wassail bowl, and now electricity has crept into Christmas, big time.
Wassail is a hot, spiced punch often associated with Christmas. Particularly popular in Germanic countries, the term itself is a contraction of the Middle English phrase wæs hæil, meaning "be healthy". The practice of wassailing is just going ‘round to everybody’s house and drink this stuff. In Kentucky they did pretty much the same thing, just pronounced it a little different, not Wassail, Moonshine.
A Yule log is a big wooden log which is burned in the fireplace as a part of traditional Yule or Christmas celebrations in several European cultures. It can be a part of the Winter Solstice festival or the Twelve Days of Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or Twelfth Night.
The closest I come to having a Yule Log is my remote controlled, gas fed fireplace in the East Wing. It seems to work out ok so far. This way I don’t have to go out in the cold and chop trees and all that, just push the button and fire happens. I set the fireplace on automatic so the 2girldogs don’t get cold when I’m gone. I think the Gray Lady could work the remote with a little instructions.
The expression "Yule log" has also come to refer to log-shaped Christmas cakes, also known as "chocolate logs" or "Bûche de Noël". I just threw that little tiddy in there just in case anybody wondered if BobbyRay knew a foreign language. So now ya know. For many years my daughter and I made the Bûche de Noël (there I go again) each Christmas Eve day, maybe we’ll make it again this year. It was a fun thing to do with my daughter, Angela.
Another really interesting old English tradition similar to the Yule Log is the Ashen Faggot. Ya may never have heard of this as it’s not nearly as well know at the Yule Log but somewhat similar. The Ashen Faggot thing is where people make a big bundle of sticks and twigs, they go to each other’s house, make a big bond fire, throw in the bundles and drink Wassail. Lots of traditions are associated with this one, has to do with the way the bundle is tied, which tie burns thru first, who in the community will be the next to marry. Now all these traditions have antecedents lost in time and all share a common goal, to make the season bright.
Sure seems like people a long time ago got more information from watching a fire then than we do today, now it seems, we just wonder if a Meth Lab burned the place down.
The more I think about the old Romans jerking ‘round with the calendar, the more I think they must have been democrats, to do something like that. I think the original Monday Holiday idea may have come from Nero, I understand he was a party animal extraordinary, and also big on fireworks. A guy like that would look forward to a three day weekend every chance he got.
This time of the year the 2girldog democrats are about as active as stamps on an envelopes. I think Sophia the Republican Cat has to wake ‘em up to go eat ‘n pee. Good thing Sophia isn’t in Washington, else she’d just let ‘em pee in their sleep.
I thought Sophia and the Angel were becoming the best of buds. That relationship has not yet blossomed. Turns out the Angel wouldn’t convert to the Red Cat Republican Party, so Sophia continues to slap her around from time to time, just to stay in practice, and the cat wars continue. The Angel has figured out that her proximity to me is in direct proportion the her health and safety and overall wellbeing.
When I sit at my computer the Angel lays between my wireless keyboard and the monitor, while at the same time Sophia continues to occupy her favorite spot, that being the back of my chair and when I push back from the keyboard the Angel relocated to my lap. It is from this position that they continue the verbal combat. The war is not as much physical as it used to be, it’s now more verbal and mental.
What I’m noticing, much like the Rosetta Stone System of learning a Foreign Language, I’m becoming most proficient in cat hissing. I think I’ve learned to cuss in cat. That’s language number three right in there with Bûche de Noël.
I think these two cats are using me as a demilitarized zone, but I can’t speak Korean. Just cat cussing and Bûche de Noël.
Such a beautiful winter type day this first Sunday in December 2009, waiting for the snow to come to the East Wing and all the while enjoying your fine company by the fireplace.
Stay Safe in Bagdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing making Snow Cream, Bûche de Noël, and Cussing with Sophia the Republican Cat
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Sunday, November 29, 2009
From the East Wing Remembering Ugly, and Sophia Gets Mad
Greeting to all and welcome my new friends to the East Wing.
On the way home last Monday after work, I realized, from the position of the moon, that I may be able to view the moon from inside the East Wing. Now any time ya can look through your telescope and not have to go outside in the cold, well it don’t get any better than that. Only had about 12 minutes of viewing time till the moon moved outside the view from the East Wing. I could have taken the show on the road, moved the telescope to the north deck and continued to view, but too lazy, and after all, I had just had a very unusual stargazing experience, looking at the moon from inside the East Wing. It was kinda cool, will be something to remember.
Another hobby of mine is weather watching (predicting?) Now unlike stargazing, ya don’t have to wait for a clear night to do the weather thing. It’s a go every day, any day . Most of the weather stuff I look at is old school forecasting based on what ya see in the sky, how animals act and things in nature. This type weather watching was used long before weather came to TV.
Kinda got into the weather watching by accident, when Regina (1wife) and I got married, my first job was at the Tell City Medical Clinic, Tell City Indiana. Tell City sits on the Indiana side of the Ohio River and we got our television signal, only one channel, from Evansville IN, just down river ‘bout 30-40 miles. We were on a high bluff 200 feet up the river bank. One time the river came within 10 ft. of our house. Soon after that water passed, we moved to Chicago, but I’m getting off the track here, the story’s ‘bout the weather watching.
As part of the 10 O’clock News each evening from Evansville was, of course, a weather segment. Too bad we only had one channel, ‘cause the weather was presented by a woman whose name was Marsha Yachkay and she was ugly.
She was the ugliest woman I’ve even seen to this very day. No matter what I say to describe her ugly, I’m not doing it justice. She was so ugly it hurt to look at her. I couldn’t understand why the TV Station had her on air, but later did figure it out. When ya see something that ugly, ya gotta go back and look again to just make sure you’re not going blind.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse ugly than looking at Marsha Yachkay doing the weather. On the 4th day of July 1965, Marsha Yachkay comes on air to do the weather wearing a bikini, honest to God, this ugliest woman ever, came on television wearing a bikini. Ugly had, in fact, gotten worse.
Keep in mind that Regina and I had been married only six months and five days, but I was so traumatized from having to see ugly Marsha Yachkay in a bikini, I thought I would not want to look at my wife for a year, if ever. But that thought passed. I think maybe that same night as I recall.
I had always believed in the saying that “ya can’t improve on ugly, till I saw Marsha Yachkay in a bikini. That girl was living proof that ya can improve on ugly. I’ve always thought that maybe Marsha Yachkay had ugly she didn’t even have to use, you know, kinda like backup ugly, just in case. To this day I get a cold chill just thinking ‘bout that 4th of July Weather Forecaster.
As a way of coping with my traumatic weather experience, and to flush my mind of ugly, I turned to studying the weather, and found a lifelong hobby, Weather Watching.
Many old saying of weather do work, and they work ‘cause there are scientific reasons why the work. Such an example is “Rainbow in the morning gives you fair warning”. A rainbow in the morning indicates that a shower is west of you and you will probably get rained on shortly. Over 90% of the time when you see a rainbow in the morning, you will get rain where you are in less than one hour.
“The higher the clouds, the finer the weather” When ya see delicate, thin clouds way up where jet planes fly, expect some nice weather for a few days. I watch this one in the winter. This one has more to do with wet or dry than warm or cold.
“Clear Moon, frost soon” When the night sky is clear, Earth's surface cools rapidly—there is no cloud cover to keep the heat in. If the night is clear enough to see the Moon and the temperature drops enough, frost will form. This one is an October no brainer.
“When clouds appear like towers, the Earth is refreshed by frequent showers.” When you see large, cauliflower-like clouds that look like castles in the sky, there is probably lots of energetic weather stuff going on inside those clouds. These are the clouds ya can see ‘em grow. Peaceful clouds look like cotton balls, ya don’t see cotton balls grow in the sky.
“Ring around the moon? Rain real soon.” A ring around the moon usually indicates an advancing warm front, which means precipitation. Under those conditions, high, thin clouds get lower and thicker as they pass over the moon. Ice crystals are reflected by the moon's light, causing a halo to appear. Now this ring ‘round the moon deal is good for both summer and winter weather watching.
“Rain foretold, long last. Short notice, soon will pass.” If you find yourself carrying an umbrella around for days "just in case," rain will stick around for several hours when it finally comes. The gray overcast dominating the horizon means a large area is affected. on the other hand, if you get caught in a surprise shower, it's likely to be short-lived and over almost as fast as it came.
“Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.” A reddish sunset means that the air is dusty and dry. Since weather in North American latitudes usually moves from west to east, a red sky at sunset means drive weather—good for sailing—is moving east. on the other hand, a reddish sunrise means that dry air from the west has already passed over us on the way east, clearing the way for a storm to move in from the west or southwest. This is the weather one most everybody has heard about, but few know what it means. This one is extremely accurate year round. It happens more often in the summer time, late summer time, when it’s not rained for a while over much of the country.
Some of my favorite, and most fun ways to predict weather is watching the 2girldogs and Sophia The Republican Cat. The Gray Lady James knows when it’s gona rain every time. The Pup Baby (Mustina) sometimes and the Republican Cat knows before everybody. I’m not sure how she knows early, she just does. By her actions I can expect a distinct change in the weather within 24 hours and she is right almost every time I notice. I’ve not yet been able to predict the weather by any actions of the 1wife, but I still look for signs.
One thing for sure, Sophia the Republican Cat is having a field day with the Health Care Reform Issue. She is laughing at the democrats and republicans. Told me that as long as this mess don’t spill over into her Vet Care. Oh Well. Kay Sara Sara.
Sophia Tells me she’s thinking ‘bout joining Sarah Palin on her book tour. Asked if I read the book, said no. If I wanted to read the book, said no. Why not? Just don’t want to. Just for fun I told Sophia I didn’t like to read fiction. Well ya would’ve thought I’d insulted Herbert Hoover, the way the cat carried on. Accused me of being un-American, a dog lover, a cat hater, and a damn democrat. I’m telling ya that cat don’t jerk around when it comes to Herbert Hoover. Said she wished I would run for public office, just so she could vote against me.
I asked Sophia if she thought Sarah Palin would run for President. She said “is Barack Obama Muslim? (Damn Republican Cat) and then she smiled. It’s hard to be mad at a smiling Republican Calico Cat. It’s turning out to be much harder to get the Angel into the Red Cat Republican Registry than Sophia first thought. Said she thought that maybe the Angel was in a union or something like that. Or maybe all angels are just democrats, either way it’s not yet a done deal.
Sophia has been visiting the Blue Cat Democrats to the east of us. She may be trying to organize another demonstration or something. I know the 2girldogs want nothing to do with demonstrations if Sophia is involved. They learned their lesson well, those 2girldogs.
For all holidays, it seems the anticipation is much too long and the holiday is much too short. So it was with Thanksgiving past. We had family over for Thanksgiving Dinner. It was such a time, a good time, a good and very special day. Thanksgiving 2009.
If I’ve been asked once I’ve been asked a hundred times, how do ya tell the difference between a cold and the flu. Rather than make it 101 times, here is a web site that will tells ya the same thing I’d tell ya only looking a lot more professional than me. http://www.tamiflu.com/about/coldflu.aspx Sure hope the flu stays away from you and yours this season. It turns out that so far this H1N1 Flu has been more scare than problem. Oh well, better safe than sorry.
The thing that worries me on the flu issue is with all the publicity and dire warnings being made on this flu and then such dire warnings not coming about, the next time such warnings are issued, the Chicken Little Syndrome kicks in and all hell breaks loose.
A cold wet dark dreary day of the year, this last Sunday in November. I predict that before we talk again the snow will come, the weather will turn to the dark side in the eyes of many. Not for me.
There’s always something good to be had if ya look for it. Snow Angels, the 2girldogs and Sophia along with the Angel are all looking forward to the Snow Angels. We’ve all been practicing on the oak floor of the East Wing, but just not as much fun as having the snow. We look forward to watching it snow while setting by the fire, telling stories in the blizzard. Making Snow Cream. Lots of fun things are coming up in the winter time.
This time of the year the night time is here before I even start to say hello. The evenings are long and dark. Maybe ya think better on long dark evenings. Much less to see, and more time to just ponder on anything and everything that may flow across the back roads of my memory. Ya sure don’t set and watch that little brown eyed friend of mine, that hummingbird this time of the year. I hope she’s safe. I’m sure I think more often of her than she does of me. But that’s ok, she’ll be back and we’ll pick up where we left off. In the spring time next.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq, and Afghanistan
From the East Wing Looking at the Weather, Remembering Ugly, and Sophia Gets Mad
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
On the way home last Monday after work, I realized, from the position of the moon, that I may be able to view the moon from inside the East Wing. Now any time ya can look through your telescope and not have to go outside in the cold, well it don’t get any better than that. Only had about 12 minutes of viewing time till the moon moved outside the view from the East Wing. I could have taken the show on the road, moved the telescope to the north deck and continued to view, but too lazy, and after all, I had just had a very unusual stargazing experience, looking at the moon from inside the East Wing. It was kinda cool, will be something to remember.
Another hobby of mine is weather watching (predicting?) Now unlike stargazing, ya don’t have to wait for a clear night to do the weather thing. It’s a go every day, any day . Most of the weather stuff I look at is old school forecasting based on what ya see in the sky, how animals act and things in nature. This type weather watching was used long before weather came to TV.
Kinda got into the weather watching by accident, when Regina (1wife) and I got married, my first job was at the Tell City Medical Clinic, Tell City Indiana. Tell City sits on the Indiana side of the Ohio River and we got our television signal, only one channel, from Evansville IN, just down river ‘bout 30-40 miles. We were on a high bluff 200 feet up the river bank. One time the river came within 10 ft. of our house. Soon after that water passed, we moved to Chicago, but I’m getting off the track here, the story’s ‘bout the weather watching.
As part of the 10 O’clock News each evening from Evansville was, of course, a weather segment. Too bad we only had one channel, ‘cause the weather was presented by a woman whose name was Marsha Yachkay and she was ugly.
She was the ugliest woman I’ve even seen to this very day. No matter what I say to describe her ugly, I’m not doing it justice. She was so ugly it hurt to look at her. I couldn’t understand why the TV Station had her on air, but later did figure it out. When ya see something that ugly, ya gotta go back and look again to just make sure you’re not going blind.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse ugly than looking at Marsha Yachkay doing the weather. On the 4th day of July 1965, Marsha Yachkay comes on air to do the weather wearing a bikini, honest to God, this ugliest woman ever, came on television wearing a bikini. Ugly had, in fact, gotten worse.
Keep in mind that Regina and I had been married only six months and five days, but I was so traumatized from having to see ugly Marsha Yachkay in a bikini, I thought I would not want to look at my wife for a year, if ever. But that thought passed. I think maybe that same night as I recall.
I had always believed in the saying that “ya can’t improve on ugly, till I saw Marsha Yachkay in a bikini. That girl was living proof that ya can improve on ugly. I’ve always thought that maybe Marsha Yachkay had ugly she didn’t even have to use, you know, kinda like backup ugly, just in case. To this day I get a cold chill just thinking ‘bout that 4th of July Weather Forecaster.
As a way of coping with my traumatic weather experience, and to flush my mind of ugly, I turned to studying the weather, and found a lifelong hobby, Weather Watching.
Many old saying of weather do work, and they work ‘cause there are scientific reasons why the work. Such an example is “Rainbow in the morning gives you fair warning”. A rainbow in the morning indicates that a shower is west of you and you will probably get rained on shortly. Over 90% of the time when you see a rainbow in the morning, you will get rain where you are in less than one hour.
“The higher the clouds, the finer the weather” When ya see delicate, thin clouds way up where jet planes fly, expect some nice weather for a few days. I watch this one in the winter. This one has more to do with wet or dry than warm or cold.
“Clear Moon, frost soon” When the night sky is clear, Earth's surface cools rapidly—there is no cloud cover to keep the heat in. If the night is clear enough to see the Moon and the temperature drops enough, frost will form. This one is an October no brainer.
“When clouds appear like towers, the Earth is refreshed by frequent showers.” When you see large, cauliflower-like clouds that look like castles in the sky, there is probably lots of energetic weather stuff going on inside those clouds. These are the clouds ya can see ‘em grow. Peaceful clouds look like cotton balls, ya don’t see cotton balls grow in the sky.
“Ring around the moon? Rain real soon.” A ring around the moon usually indicates an advancing warm front, which means precipitation. Under those conditions, high, thin clouds get lower and thicker as they pass over the moon. Ice crystals are reflected by the moon's light, causing a halo to appear. Now this ring ‘round the moon deal is good for both summer and winter weather watching.
“Rain foretold, long last. Short notice, soon will pass.” If you find yourself carrying an umbrella around for days "just in case," rain will stick around for several hours when it finally comes. The gray overcast dominating the horizon means a large area is affected. on the other hand, if you get caught in a surprise shower, it's likely to be short-lived and over almost as fast as it came.
“Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.” A reddish sunset means that the air is dusty and dry. Since weather in North American latitudes usually moves from west to east, a red sky at sunset means drive weather—good for sailing—is moving east. on the other hand, a reddish sunrise means that dry air from the west has already passed over us on the way east, clearing the way for a storm to move in from the west or southwest. This is the weather one most everybody has heard about, but few know what it means. This one is extremely accurate year round. It happens more often in the summer time, late summer time, when it’s not rained for a while over much of the country.
Some of my favorite, and most fun ways to predict weather is watching the 2girldogs and Sophia The Republican Cat. The Gray Lady James knows when it’s gona rain every time. The Pup Baby (Mustina) sometimes and the Republican Cat knows before everybody. I’m not sure how she knows early, she just does. By her actions I can expect a distinct change in the weather within 24 hours and she is right almost every time I notice. I’ve not yet been able to predict the weather by any actions of the 1wife, but I still look for signs.
One thing for sure, Sophia the Republican Cat is having a field day with the Health Care Reform Issue. She is laughing at the democrats and republicans. Told me that as long as this mess don’t spill over into her Vet Care. Oh Well. Kay Sara Sara.
Sophia Tells me she’s thinking ‘bout joining Sarah Palin on her book tour. Asked if I read the book, said no. If I wanted to read the book, said no. Why not? Just don’t want to. Just for fun I told Sophia I didn’t like to read fiction. Well ya would’ve thought I’d insulted Herbert Hoover, the way the cat carried on. Accused me of being un-American, a dog lover, a cat hater, and a damn democrat. I’m telling ya that cat don’t jerk around when it comes to Herbert Hoover. Said she wished I would run for public office, just so she could vote against me.
I asked Sophia if she thought Sarah Palin would run for President. She said “is Barack Obama Muslim? (Damn Republican Cat) and then she smiled. It’s hard to be mad at a smiling Republican Calico Cat. It’s turning out to be much harder to get the Angel into the Red Cat Republican Registry than Sophia first thought. Said she thought that maybe the Angel was in a union or something like that. Or maybe all angels are just democrats, either way it’s not yet a done deal.
Sophia has been visiting the Blue Cat Democrats to the east of us. She may be trying to organize another demonstration or something. I know the 2girldogs want nothing to do with demonstrations if Sophia is involved. They learned their lesson well, those 2girldogs.
For all holidays, it seems the anticipation is much too long and the holiday is much too short. So it was with Thanksgiving past. We had family over for Thanksgiving Dinner. It was such a time, a good time, a good and very special day. Thanksgiving 2009.
If I’ve been asked once I’ve been asked a hundred times, how do ya tell the difference between a cold and the flu. Rather than make it 101 times, here is a web site that will tells ya the same thing I’d tell ya only looking a lot more professional than me. http://www.tamiflu.com/about/coldflu.aspx Sure hope the flu stays away from you and yours this season. It turns out that so far this H1N1 Flu has been more scare than problem. Oh well, better safe than sorry.
The thing that worries me on the flu issue is with all the publicity and dire warnings being made on this flu and then such dire warnings not coming about, the next time such warnings are issued, the Chicken Little Syndrome kicks in and all hell breaks loose.
A cold wet dark dreary day of the year, this last Sunday in November. I predict that before we talk again the snow will come, the weather will turn to the dark side in the eyes of many. Not for me.
There’s always something good to be had if ya look for it. Snow Angels, the 2girldogs and Sophia along with the Angel are all looking forward to the Snow Angels. We’ve all been practicing on the oak floor of the East Wing, but just not as much fun as having the snow. We look forward to watching it snow while setting by the fire, telling stories in the blizzard. Making Snow Cream. Lots of fun things are coming up in the winter time.
This time of the year the night time is here before I even start to say hello. The evenings are long and dark. Maybe ya think better on long dark evenings. Much less to see, and more time to just ponder on anything and everything that may flow across the back roads of my memory. Ya sure don’t set and watch that little brown eyed friend of mine, that hummingbird this time of the year. I hope she’s safe. I’m sure I think more often of her than she does of me. But that’s ok, she’ll be back and we’ll pick up where we left off. In the spring time next.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq, and Afghanistan
From the East Wing Looking at the Weather, Remembering Ugly, and Sophia Gets Mad
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Sunday, November 22, 2009
From the East Wing with The Important People, Friends of Mine, Bozo, Ray Rainer and Dr. Gill
Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing
By the time we talk again Thanksgiving will have come and gone. So it’s with that thought in mind that I invite one and all to join my family and me for our FREE THANKSGIVING DAY DINNER AT GRAND CENTRAL STATION in Beautiful Downtown North Judson. The dinner will be served starting at 12 Noon – 4:00 PM. Hope I to see ya there.
Last week’s email brought, from New Hampshire, two suggestions, one was I visit New Hampshire, which I would like to someday do, and the second suggestion was that I write about any important people I have met in my life. Now that just sounded like a swell idea, so I decided right then and there to do so.
When it was time to talk from the East Wing, I sat at the computer waiting for all the things I was going to say about these important people I’d had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing came to mind, no names, no faces, no words. I waited for the words to just flood over fingers to keyboard. Nothing came to fingers, the keyboard was blank, and so was the brain. Why couldn’t I say nice things about the important people I’d met? It took some time to figure it out, but I finally did.
I couldn’t say anything about the important people I’d met ‘cause I’ve never met an unimportant person. Every person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting is important to me. If ya come across my path in this life, then you’re important to me. Now there is good important and not so good important, there may even be a couple bad important, from time to time, but important none the less.
Maybe not everybody looks at life that way. BobbyRay does, and if ya don’t, maybe ya should try it, ya may like it. The same thing holds for ordinary people. There’s no such thing as an ordinary person. There are no two of us the same, and as such, we are each special. No ordinary people here. Whatever our roles in life, we are the masses, but not ordinary people by a long shot. We may not stand out in the crowd, yet we are forever special on an individual basis. We don’t stand out in the crowd because we are the crowd, and crowds can’t stand out even if they wanted to, and we don’t want to.
We do have persons in our society who we the people allow to hold positions of authority, rule making and enforcement of such rules. These are not important people, rather those filling jobs at the pleasure of we the people, the crowd.
One of the problems of public service for the people who we allow to fill the jobs, is the self importance which many of these people attach to themselves. We didn’t make ‘um important, they tried to make themselves important. They are not any more important than you or I. It seems a quirk of human nature that given a little bit of authority, then self importance creeps into just about everything these people do.
You’ve seen that side of public service as well as I have. Had a County Commissioner right here in Starke County Indiana one time tell me “less than 10% of the people in Starke Country know what’s good for this country”. I asked how he got so smart, ‘cause we went to high school together, and back then he was dumb as a post. The statement was made early in an election year. He lost the election, dumb post. I knew he would lose, ‘cause he was to self important to win.
Self importance, is shows, it grows, it glows, it sparkles in the sunshine, it smells, it does not serve we the people well. When we get too tired of self important public officials, we replace the person and hope the cycle doesn’t start over. Most of the time it does.
Those of us who can control this monster, self importance, do rise above the crowd. Sadly to say such individuals are rare amongst us. Self importance seems to forever flourish here in Starke County Indiana. We somehow seem to always have more than our fair share of those type public servants here in Starke County. Maybe we’ll publish a top 10 list some day. Since most of the elected office holders in Starke County are democrats, I’m sure Sophia The Republican Cat will be more than willing to assist with that project when it’s time. Everybody knows that water and oil don’t mix, as don’t self importance and public service. Now self importance and dumb public servants do mix, often.
From time to time we see where bad things come to those who have bathed themselves in self importance, who put themselves above we the people. The professional athlete who fought the dogs, sent to prison to have time to reflect on how important he really is to our society. A congressman from Illinois, considered at one time to be one of the three or four most influential men in this nation, sent to prison, where he could ponder on his importance, stealing postage stamps from his congressional office, another dumb post. A President resigned. A President impeached.
The Office of President of the United States is truly important, the person holding such office is truly transient. When such self importance reaches the President of the United States it’s actually sad. Self importance haunts every level of public service, few public servants escape its clutches. Some are destined to live out their lives in disgrace as a result.
With that being said, it is no wonder when I write about the important people I’ve met in my life, it’s easy. It’s my family and it’s you. I’ve yet to meet any one more important than you, you read my stories. You visit the East Wing, You know the 2girldogs, 2cats, and 1wife. We visit. We talk. We keep each other company. We share hopes and dreams. We get along, we just get along. In life, it don’t get more important than that. I’m glad I think you’re the most important people I have ever met.
Now I can write all day about people I’ve met and admire. Admiration and importance are not one and the same. Ya can admire things such as social skills, communication ability, and overall charm when dealing with people either one on one or a group. Some people just have a God given ability to deal with others better than some. Admiration is different from putting importance on the individual for possessing such skills.
Those I admire include a fellow I met who knew Bozo The Clown, this same fellow knew Ray Rainer. Now just stop and think about knowing someone who knew both Bozo and Ray Rainer. WOW ! As proof of knowing both Bozo and Ray Rainer, this guy carries a picture of him and them. He worked for many years at the Brookfield Zoo in Chicago. He was the guy who brought the animals to the TV Shows. I admire that guy. Ya gotta admire anybody who carries a picture of Bozo The Clown in his shirt pocket.
I admire a 10 year old who has a better command of the language than some people I know. He demonstrates logical thought processes at a higher level than many adults. I also enjoy playing with this kid. He and I are buds, we have Godzilla Collections. While playing air hockey with him for the first time, after he scored the first four points he said “Mr. Howard either I am extraordinary good at something I’ve never done before or you’re trying to let me win. I just don’t believe I’m this good at air hockey the first time I’m playing”. I won 21 – 4, I admire this 10 year old.
I admire a collage professor from many years ago, Hiram Gill, PhD. Dr Gill taught me many things of life while he taught me organic chemistry. Dr Gill was a friend of mine. The first day in Dr. Gill’s chemistry class he asked a show of hands those who had taken high school chemistry. In a class of 120 I was one of about 25 who raised their hand. Dr. Gill asked those who raised their hand to stand up. Now I’m thinking this is kinda cool, he’s gona say something nice about us having had high school chemistry and all. Well Dr. Gill says “ I want all those seated to look at this group real close, as they will be the ones giving me problems this semester”. On that remark I sat down, whereupon Dr. Gill said “Mr. Howard could you please stand up again, I don’t think everyone is done looking at you yet”
Dr Gill informed the class on day one that no person would get an “A” in his class due to the fact that no one is perfect. The last perfect man on this earth was crucified. I studied more for Dr. Gill’s class than any other. I wanted to prove the old man wrong. He gave a test every day. I never missed a single question on every test he gave, including the final. When the grades were posted, I received an “A-” on my final paper he wrote “Mr. Howard, you came close” At the time I wanted to chock him, I was so mad! It was some time later in life that I started to realize just how important Dr. Gill had been to my overall education. Dr Gill shaped in part much of the way I look at life to this very day.
Spent a summer session with a guest professor, Peter Drucker, at The Ohio State University back in the 70’s. A fun summer session, maybe the best of them all. Peter Drucker was a friend of mine. He was a pioneer in the field of management. He developed a managerial theory that is to this day taught as the best management style around. He said such things as “Management is doing things right; leadership is doing the right things.”
I spent many long summer evenings learning in his company while discussing anything and everything. We, Peter Drucker and I, sat on a Holiday Inn outdoor patio overlooking the Ohio State Foot Ball Stadium and drank beer and talked about management stuff for a whole summer session. It was the best of times.
I admired Peter Drucker. He died in 2005. He was a friend of mine. Peter Drucker had the ability to take a complex issue and state it in minimum words which everybody could understand. He once said “Upward progression within the corporate workplace is much the same as a monkey climbing a tree. The higher he goes, the more his ass shows”, Peter Drucker.
You may have heard of Peter Drucker, one of the many, many books he has written is called “The Peter Principle” it talks about rising to a level of non productive state in the work force. It’s a fact that can be demonstrated in every work force.
The 1wife had a birthday today. The family went out to dinner, Kelsey’s Stake House in Valparaiso IN. Not all my family, some too far away, but they were there in spirit, we missed ‘em. Important people, my family.
The beautiful Sunday Weather of this day has turned into an equally beautiful cool evening, as the nighttime comes early this time of the year. Setting warm with my back to the fireplace, looking at the yard light to the south, wondering when will I see the first snowflakes between me and the light. The time is short, it’s known only to the one that moves the wind, the leader of the band. The snow will come, I just don’t know when.
As always, your company has been a pleasure here in the East Wing this Sunday, one month short of winter, we’re glad you came. As the 2girldogs go to sleep early, the Republican Cat curls up in front of the fireplace, as I enjoy the sound of silence in the nighttime, while looking forward to seeing you at Grand Central Station on Thanksgiving Day at high noon.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan.
From the East Wing with The Important People, Friends of Mine, Bozo, Ray Rainer and Dr. Gill
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
By the time we talk again Thanksgiving will have come and gone. So it’s with that thought in mind that I invite one and all to join my family and me for our FREE THANKSGIVING DAY DINNER AT GRAND CENTRAL STATION in Beautiful Downtown North Judson. The dinner will be served starting at 12 Noon – 4:00 PM. Hope I to see ya there.
Last week’s email brought, from New Hampshire, two suggestions, one was I visit New Hampshire, which I would like to someday do, and the second suggestion was that I write about any important people I have met in my life. Now that just sounded like a swell idea, so I decided right then and there to do so.
When it was time to talk from the East Wing, I sat at the computer waiting for all the things I was going to say about these important people I’d had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing came to mind, no names, no faces, no words. I waited for the words to just flood over fingers to keyboard. Nothing came to fingers, the keyboard was blank, and so was the brain. Why couldn’t I say nice things about the important people I’d met? It took some time to figure it out, but I finally did.
I couldn’t say anything about the important people I’d met ‘cause I’ve never met an unimportant person. Every person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting is important to me. If ya come across my path in this life, then you’re important to me. Now there is good important and not so good important, there may even be a couple bad important, from time to time, but important none the less.
Maybe not everybody looks at life that way. BobbyRay does, and if ya don’t, maybe ya should try it, ya may like it. The same thing holds for ordinary people. There’s no such thing as an ordinary person. There are no two of us the same, and as such, we are each special. No ordinary people here. Whatever our roles in life, we are the masses, but not ordinary people by a long shot. We may not stand out in the crowd, yet we are forever special on an individual basis. We don’t stand out in the crowd because we are the crowd, and crowds can’t stand out even if they wanted to, and we don’t want to.
We do have persons in our society who we the people allow to hold positions of authority, rule making and enforcement of such rules. These are not important people, rather those filling jobs at the pleasure of we the people, the crowd.
One of the problems of public service for the people who we allow to fill the jobs, is the self importance which many of these people attach to themselves. We didn’t make ‘um important, they tried to make themselves important. They are not any more important than you or I. It seems a quirk of human nature that given a little bit of authority, then self importance creeps into just about everything these people do.
You’ve seen that side of public service as well as I have. Had a County Commissioner right here in Starke County Indiana one time tell me “less than 10% of the people in Starke Country know what’s good for this country”. I asked how he got so smart, ‘cause we went to high school together, and back then he was dumb as a post. The statement was made early in an election year. He lost the election, dumb post. I knew he would lose, ‘cause he was to self important to win.
Self importance, is shows, it grows, it glows, it sparkles in the sunshine, it smells, it does not serve we the people well. When we get too tired of self important public officials, we replace the person and hope the cycle doesn’t start over. Most of the time it does.
Those of us who can control this monster, self importance, do rise above the crowd. Sadly to say such individuals are rare amongst us. Self importance seems to forever flourish here in Starke County Indiana. We somehow seem to always have more than our fair share of those type public servants here in Starke County. Maybe we’ll publish a top 10 list some day. Since most of the elected office holders in Starke County are democrats, I’m sure Sophia The Republican Cat will be more than willing to assist with that project when it’s time. Everybody knows that water and oil don’t mix, as don’t self importance and public service. Now self importance and dumb public servants do mix, often.
From time to time we see where bad things come to those who have bathed themselves in self importance, who put themselves above we the people. The professional athlete who fought the dogs, sent to prison to have time to reflect on how important he really is to our society. A congressman from Illinois, considered at one time to be one of the three or four most influential men in this nation, sent to prison, where he could ponder on his importance, stealing postage stamps from his congressional office, another dumb post. A President resigned. A President impeached.
The Office of President of the United States is truly important, the person holding such office is truly transient. When such self importance reaches the President of the United States it’s actually sad. Self importance haunts every level of public service, few public servants escape its clutches. Some are destined to live out their lives in disgrace as a result.
With that being said, it is no wonder when I write about the important people I’ve met in my life, it’s easy. It’s my family and it’s you. I’ve yet to meet any one more important than you, you read my stories. You visit the East Wing, You know the 2girldogs, 2cats, and 1wife. We visit. We talk. We keep each other company. We share hopes and dreams. We get along, we just get along. In life, it don’t get more important than that. I’m glad I think you’re the most important people I have ever met.
Now I can write all day about people I’ve met and admire. Admiration and importance are not one and the same. Ya can admire things such as social skills, communication ability, and overall charm when dealing with people either one on one or a group. Some people just have a God given ability to deal with others better than some. Admiration is different from putting importance on the individual for possessing such skills.
Those I admire include a fellow I met who knew Bozo The Clown, this same fellow knew Ray Rainer. Now just stop and think about knowing someone who knew both Bozo and Ray Rainer. WOW ! As proof of knowing both Bozo and Ray Rainer, this guy carries a picture of him and them. He worked for many years at the Brookfield Zoo in Chicago. He was the guy who brought the animals to the TV Shows. I admire that guy. Ya gotta admire anybody who carries a picture of Bozo The Clown in his shirt pocket.
I admire a 10 year old who has a better command of the language than some people I know. He demonstrates logical thought processes at a higher level than many adults. I also enjoy playing with this kid. He and I are buds, we have Godzilla Collections. While playing air hockey with him for the first time, after he scored the first four points he said “Mr. Howard either I am extraordinary good at something I’ve never done before or you’re trying to let me win. I just don’t believe I’m this good at air hockey the first time I’m playing”. I won 21 – 4, I admire this 10 year old.
I admire a collage professor from many years ago, Hiram Gill, PhD. Dr Gill taught me many things of life while he taught me organic chemistry. Dr Gill was a friend of mine. The first day in Dr. Gill’s chemistry class he asked a show of hands those who had taken high school chemistry. In a class of 120 I was one of about 25 who raised their hand. Dr. Gill asked those who raised their hand to stand up. Now I’m thinking this is kinda cool, he’s gona say something nice about us having had high school chemistry and all. Well Dr. Gill says “ I want all those seated to look at this group real close, as they will be the ones giving me problems this semester”. On that remark I sat down, whereupon Dr. Gill said “Mr. Howard could you please stand up again, I don’t think everyone is done looking at you yet”
Dr Gill informed the class on day one that no person would get an “A” in his class due to the fact that no one is perfect. The last perfect man on this earth was crucified. I studied more for Dr. Gill’s class than any other. I wanted to prove the old man wrong. He gave a test every day. I never missed a single question on every test he gave, including the final. When the grades were posted, I received an “A-” on my final paper he wrote “Mr. Howard, you came close” At the time I wanted to chock him, I was so mad! It was some time later in life that I started to realize just how important Dr. Gill had been to my overall education. Dr Gill shaped in part much of the way I look at life to this very day.
Spent a summer session with a guest professor, Peter Drucker, at The Ohio State University back in the 70’s. A fun summer session, maybe the best of them all. Peter Drucker was a friend of mine. He was a pioneer in the field of management. He developed a managerial theory that is to this day taught as the best management style around. He said such things as “Management is doing things right; leadership is doing the right things.”
I spent many long summer evenings learning in his company while discussing anything and everything. We, Peter Drucker and I, sat on a Holiday Inn outdoor patio overlooking the Ohio State Foot Ball Stadium and drank beer and talked about management stuff for a whole summer session. It was the best of times.
I admired Peter Drucker. He died in 2005. He was a friend of mine. Peter Drucker had the ability to take a complex issue and state it in minimum words which everybody could understand. He once said “Upward progression within the corporate workplace is much the same as a monkey climbing a tree. The higher he goes, the more his ass shows”, Peter Drucker.
You may have heard of Peter Drucker, one of the many, many books he has written is called “The Peter Principle” it talks about rising to a level of non productive state in the work force. It’s a fact that can be demonstrated in every work force.
The 1wife had a birthday today. The family went out to dinner, Kelsey’s Stake House in Valparaiso IN. Not all my family, some too far away, but they were there in spirit, we missed ‘em. Important people, my family.
The beautiful Sunday Weather of this day has turned into an equally beautiful cool evening, as the nighttime comes early this time of the year. Setting warm with my back to the fireplace, looking at the yard light to the south, wondering when will I see the first snowflakes between me and the light. The time is short, it’s known only to the one that moves the wind, the leader of the band. The snow will come, I just don’t know when.
As always, your company has been a pleasure here in the East Wing this Sunday, one month short of winter, we’re glad you came. As the 2girldogs go to sleep early, the Republican Cat curls up in front of the fireplace, as I enjoy the sound of silence in the nighttime, while looking forward to seeing you at Grand Central Station on Thanksgiving Day at high noon.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan.
From the East Wing with The Important People, Friends of Mine, Bozo, Ray Rainer and Dr. Gill
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Sunday, November 15, 2009
From the East Wing with Galileo, Indian Summer and the Red Cat Republicans
Greetings to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.
It was with some interest that I read last week the Catholic Church is convening a conference to explore the concept of alien life. Now being both a Catholic and a stargazer, I’m excited at that prospect. It seems the Catholic Church has been on the wrong side of this question for some 400 years. Not everybody remembers, but the church almost kicked a guy out one time for even thinking stuff like that.
Back in 1633 there was a fellow by the name of Galileo Galilei . Now Galileo was not your everyday Italian be any means, he had an idea and with that idea created the telescope. Galileo became the very first stargazer.
At this time, 1600’s the official position of the Catholic Church was that the earth was the center of the universe. Galileo looked at the stars and had a different point of view. He concluded the earth was not the center of the universe, and said so in public. Well, Galileo must’ve not been a democrat, else he would have taken a poll to see if that was the right thing to say in public, anyway when the Catholic Church got hold of this crap from Galileo they gave him a choice, either eat his words or hit the road
Now getting kicked out of the Catholic Church in 1633 was a big deal. Sad to say but many look differently on the same thing today. Galileo chose to recant on this statements that the Earth revolves around the sun. From that point on in Galileo’s life things went downhill. He died almost completely blind. Blinded by the sun, the sun through the telescope. Galileo looked at sun spots. He also was the first to see the moons of Jupiter.
In 1992, Pope John Paul II declared the church ruling against Galileo’s statements of fact was an error resulting from "tragic mutual incomprehension." So ya know who got the last laugh on that one even though Galileo had to wait a while to laugh.
The Vatican Museums opened an exhibit last month for the 400th anniversary of Galileo's first celestial observations. I can only imagine what Galileo Galilei would think if he could see my telescope today. But I’d have to explain why my telescope moves by itself. And of course that would lead to having to explain about computers and global positioning satellites and how that all works. Wow ! I can see right now it’s gona take some time to bring Galileo up to speed before he can look into my telescope for the first time.
Galileo Galilei was an Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher, he played a major role in the Scientific Revolution of his time. He was most famous for the telescope but his many other inventions were even more important than the telescope. Now not only did Galileo create the instrument to look into the sky, he also created the microscope, the instrument to look at the unseen world right here on Earth. It would be hard to say which has served mankind more, the telescope or microscope. Having looked at both for a long time, I could not choose.
I really don’t think it’s gona take Galileo much time to be ready to look through my eyepiece to the sky. And unlike many he already knows where a lot of the sky stuff is. Has been there, seen that, although the locations would have shifted a little by now, but Galileo could find ‘em with my scope. Seems it took me forever to remember where things are at up there, and I just know a little bit of star stuff. But it sure would be fun to visit with Galileo in the East Wing and then go out on the North Deck to look at the stars. I hope he likes the 2girldogs. I think Sophia will get along fine, 2 republicans and all.
As the night temperatures cool down stargazing heats up, but only on clear nights. There have been some really good nights in the last two weeks. But not tonight, rain on and off all day, with a heavy overcast means no stargazing this night. All is not lost I am going to realign my smart finder on the telescope. That’s a way to allow you to easier find star positions when the telescope is not being directed by computer. It’s kinda like when ya had to write with a pencil to put words on paper.
Speaking of stargazing, the Vatican has its own observatory. Founded in 1891 by Pope Leo XIII in Castel Gandolfo, a little town in the hills outside Rome. They also do star stuff research at the University of Arizona in Tucson. It’s interesting to note that the Vatican Observatory has also been at the forefront of efforts to bridge the gap between religion and science, and its meteorite collection is considered one of the world's best. Never much press about the stargazers of the Vatican, but they’re there, have been for a long time, and even picking up the space rocks wherever they can find ‘em. What would really be interesting is the history behind the meteorite collection. How did the church get so many? Was it a penance ? Maybe there was a time that when, as a Catholic, ya went to confession, it ya had sinned (and Lord knows there’s a lot of that going on) and ya had a meteorite, then for your penance the priest told ya to send your meteorite to Rome. Looking back, I sure wish I had had some to send. Could still use some from time to time. I wonder if I sent just a really neat rock?
How did ya like Indian Summer? It officially starts on November 11th each year. St. Martin’s Day is considered the beginning of Indian summer, that period of warm weather following a cold spell or hard frost. An old saying is “If All Saints’ brings out winter, St. Martin’s brings out Indian summer.” Indian summer can occur between St. Martin’s Day and November 20. Now if we don’t have some really good weather between now and November 20th, oh well! No Indian Summer. But this year we did have Indian Summer, a few days of 60°+ temperature. On the way home from work the other day, I heard the weather on the radio saying the temperature was 12° above average for the day, I thought Uh Oh, Indian Summer.
This Indian Summer thing goes back a ways, way back to the Indians before Tonto. Now these ole boys thought Indian Summer was just warm wind sent from their southwestern god, Cautantowwit. We find out much later that Cautantowwit was just a smart Indian who left the cold country of Northern Indiana to spend the winter in Arizona much like some Hoosiers do to this day, but they don’t send back warm weather. Come January we’ll be looking for it.
The 2girldogs have started to settle into their winter mode. Gray Lady James doesn’t stay outside very much anymore. 10 – 15 minutes tops and it’s back to the East Wing for that dog. The pup baby, Mustina, continues to stay outside in dry weather. But does not spend any long time outside after dark, and now it’s dark by the time I get home.
With last Wednesday being Veterans Day, I’m surprised that some dumbo in Washington hasn’t tried to change Veterans Day to a Monday. The democrats are saving that one for the second Obama Presidency.
She sets on the back of my chair as I write. When I wrote the “second Obama Presidency”, she just reached over and sunk three little sharp knives into the back of my neck, saying “wash your fingers out with soap for writing such things”.
After Sophia somehow got on that White House email listing, her email address continues to circulate to this day. She gets anywhere from 4-10 emails a day. Last Thursday she got one looking for a sexy single republican calico. She spent two days washing up. Don’t know if she answered or not, but she sure looks extra clean to me. It’s hard to tell ‘bout that cat, with that perpetual smile and all. Too bad she can’t read a teleprompter, with her looks she could be a darling democrat in a heartbeat.
With that base of Red Cat Republicans Sophia has put together I don’t see her going to the dark side anytime soon. It now appears that Sophia has convinced the Angel that she has a position in the Red Cat Republicans, ‘cause last week the Angel helped lick the envelopes for the Red Cat Republican Newsletter that goes out bimonthly. And today she was helping Sophia write a speech Sophia will give somewhere, have no idea where, but she did ask me did I know Mitch Daniels, and then she smiled, she and the Angel just smiled and walked away. (Damn Republican Cats)
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing With Galileo, Indian Summer, and Red Cat Republicans
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
It was with some interest that I read last week the Catholic Church is convening a conference to explore the concept of alien life. Now being both a Catholic and a stargazer, I’m excited at that prospect. It seems the Catholic Church has been on the wrong side of this question for some 400 years. Not everybody remembers, but the church almost kicked a guy out one time for even thinking stuff like that.
Back in 1633 there was a fellow by the name of Galileo Galilei . Now Galileo was not your everyday Italian be any means, he had an idea and with that idea created the telescope. Galileo became the very first stargazer.
At this time, 1600’s the official position of the Catholic Church was that the earth was the center of the universe. Galileo looked at the stars and had a different point of view. He concluded the earth was not the center of the universe, and said so in public. Well, Galileo must’ve not been a democrat, else he would have taken a poll to see if that was the right thing to say in public, anyway when the Catholic Church got hold of this crap from Galileo they gave him a choice, either eat his words or hit the road
Now getting kicked out of the Catholic Church in 1633 was a big deal. Sad to say but many look differently on the same thing today. Galileo chose to recant on this statements that the Earth revolves around the sun. From that point on in Galileo’s life things went downhill. He died almost completely blind. Blinded by the sun, the sun through the telescope. Galileo looked at sun spots. He also was the first to see the moons of Jupiter.
In 1992, Pope John Paul II declared the church ruling against Galileo’s statements of fact was an error resulting from "tragic mutual incomprehension." So ya know who got the last laugh on that one even though Galileo had to wait a while to laugh.
The Vatican Museums opened an exhibit last month for the 400th anniversary of Galileo's first celestial observations. I can only imagine what Galileo Galilei would think if he could see my telescope today. But I’d have to explain why my telescope moves by itself. And of course that would lead to having to explain about computers and global positioning satellites and how that all works. Wow ! I can see right now it’s gona take some time to bring Galileo up to speed before he can look into my telescope for the first time.
Galileo Galilei was an Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher, he played a major role in the Scientific Revolution of his time. He was most famous for the telescope but his many other inventions were even more important than the telescope. Now not only did Galileo create the instrument to look into the sky, he also created the microscope, the instrument to look at the unseen world right here on Earth. It would be hard to say which has served mankind more, the telescope or microscope. Having looked at both for a long time, I could not choose.
I really don’t think it’s gona take Galileo much time to be ready to look through my eyepiece to the sky. And unlike many he already knows where a lot of the sky stuff is. Has been there, seen that, although the locations would have shifted a little by now, but Galileo could find ‘em with my scope. Seems it took me forever to remember where things are at up there, and I just know a little bit of star stuff. But it sure would be fun to visit with Galileo in the East Wing and then go out on the North Deck to look at the stars. I hope he likes the 2girldogs. I think Sophia will get along fine, 2 republicans and all.
As the night temperatures cool down stargazing heats up, but only on clear nights. There have been some really good nights in the last two weeks. But not tonight, rain on and off all day, with a heavy overcast means no stargazing this night. All is not lost I am going to realign my smart finder on the telescope. That’s a way to allow you to easier find star positions when the telescope is not being directed by computer. It’s kinda like when ya had to write with a pencil to put words on paper.
Speaking of stargazing, the Vatican has its own observatory. Founded in 1891 by Pope Leo XIII in Castel Gandolfo, a little town in the hills outside Rome. They also do star stuff research at the University of Arizona in Tucson. It’s interesting to note that the Vatican Observatory has also been at the forefront of efforts to bridge the gap between religion and science, and its meteorite collection is considered one of the world's best. Never much press about the stargazers of the Vatican, but they’re there, have been for a long time, and even picking up the space rocks wherever they can find ‘em. What would really be interesting is the history behind the meteorite collection. How did the church get so many? Was it a penance ? Maybe there was a time that when, as a Catholic, ya went to confession, it ya had sinned (and Lord knows there’s a lot of that going on) and ya had a meteorite, then for your penance the priest told ya to send your meteorite to Rome. Looking back, I sure wish I had had some to send. Could still use some from time to time. I wonder if I sent just a really neat rock?
How did ya like Indian Summer? It officially starts on November 11th each year. St. Martin’s Day is considered the beginning of Indian summer, that period of warm weather following a cold spell or hard frost. An old saying is “If All Saints’ brings out winter, St. Martin’s brings out Indian summer.” Indian summer can occur between St. Martin’s Day and November 20. Now if we don’t have some really good weather between now and November 20th, oh well! No Indian Summer. But this year we did have Indian Summer, a few days of 60°+ temperature. On the way home from work the other day, I heard the weather on the radio saying the temperature was 12° above average for the day, I thought Uh Oh, Indian Summer.
This Indian Summer thing goes back a ways, way back to the Indians before Tonto. Now these ole boys thought Indian Summer was just warm wind sent from their southwestern god, Cautantowwit. We find out much later that Cautantowwit was just a smart Indian who left the cold country of Northern Indiana to spend the winter in Arizona much like some Hoosiers do to this day, but they don’t send back warm weather. Come January we’ll be looking for it.
The 2girldogs have started to settle into their winter mode. Gray Lady James doesn’t stay outside very much anymore. 10 – 15 minutes tops and it’s back to the East Wing for that dog. The pup baby, Mustina, continues to stay outside in dry weather. But does not spend any long time outside after dark, and now it’s dark by the time I get home.
With last Wednesday being Veterans Day, I’m surprised that some dumbo in Washington hasn’t tried to change Veterans Day to a Monday. The democrats are saving that one for the second Obama Presidency.
She sets on the back of my chair as I write. When I wrote the “second Obama Presidency”, she just reached over and sunk three little sharp knives into the back of my neck, saying “wash your fingers out with soap for writing such things”.
After Sophia somehow got on that White House email listing, her email address continues to circulate to this day. She gets anywhere from 4-10 emails a day. Last Thursday she got one looking for a sexy single republican calico. She spent two days washing up. Don’t know if she answered or not, but she sure looks extra clean to me. It’s hard to tell ‘bout that cat, with that perpetual smile and all. Too bad she can’t read a teleprompter, with her looks she could be a darling democrat in a heartbeat.
With that base of Red Cat Republicans Sophia has put together I don’t see her going to the dark side anytime soon. It now appears that Sophia has convinced the Angel that she has a position in the Red Cat Republicans, ‘cause last week the Angel helped lick the envelopes for the Red Cat Republican Newsletter that goes out bimonthly. And today she was helping Sophia write a speech Sophia will give somewhere, have no idea where, but she did ask me did I know Mitch Daniels, and then she smiled, she and the Angel just smiled and walked away. (Damn Republican Cats)
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing With Galileo, Indian Summer, and Red Cat Republicans
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Sunday, November 8, 2009
From the East Wing, Talking on the Thunder Base, Sophia and the Spin Doctors, and Stargazing
Greeting to all and welcome first time visitors to the East Wing
On behalf of my family as well as myself, thank you one and all for such kind words and expressions of sympathy on the loss of our beloved Mother, Mother in-law and Grandmother. She will remain a part of all of us forever. Your words and precious thoughts toward my family and I shall never be forgotten. I could never have anticipated the extent of such outpouring of sympathy from around the world. I’m truly humbled by just the thought. From the start of my ramblings from the East Wing, I have never received such a volume of email. I thank you so.
With the coming of November all hope of warmer weather is all but lost when ya live in the cold county of Northern Indiana, even though yesterday and today are exceptional to say the least. From now until March or so we will tend to see more gloomy weather than that connected with the 4th of July. I love gloomy weather as much as I love 4th of July weather.
When I typed “cold country” it reminded me of when I used to talk on the CB Radio Frequency of the public air ways. On long cold winter nights, before computers, there was just not too many toys to play with. Ya can only watch so much television, then ya become a slug. I didn’t want to be a slug, so I decided to talk.
Now this was back in the day when ya had to apply to the FCC and pay, yes pay for a CB Radio License. The application had your name, address, age, sex, DOB and all that stuff. It cost $25.00, I think the price was so high to keep out the riff raff. It didn’t work. I joined the party.
With a new FCC License in hand, I sat out to purchase my radio station. The first stop was the Radio Shack, it just made since to me as a good place to start. Looking at all the radio stuff they had won both my heart and checkbook. Now this was before credit cards. If ya bought something, ya paid for it. If ya didn’t have the money, ya didn’t buy it till ya saved up the money, or ya didn’t get it. WOW !! such a novel idea, wonder if that would work today? I wonder if the Obama people have ever heard of that idea? Probably not.
In no time at all I had my radio station installed in a corner of my living room (this was a long time before the East Wing was even thought about) and with trepidation flipped the switch, the lights came one and I sat in amazement that I could hear people talk. I listened for a long time gathering enough courage to press down on the microphone and speak my first words on the air way. When fear was conquered, the magic button was pressed and I spoke the gospel according to BobbyRay.
The FCC License limited the radio station to 4 watts broadcasting power. Using the original capacity of the licensed transceiver I was able to talk to other people 10 to 12 miles away maximum. That seemed a rather short distance to me. I decided to enhance that broadcasting power ability somewhat by the use of additional electronic equipment attached to the radio. Equipment not readily available at the Radio Shack Store. Ya had to make this equipment yourself or know somebody who could, or they knew somebody who could.
I made my own, of hammers and nails and puppy dog tails, that’s what little boys make stuff of. It worked better than I expected. In fact it worked so good I decided to build a bigger, better one. So I did. It worked so good, I decided to build a bigger, better one. So I did, four times. Each time I sold the one being replaced as soon as I got the new one built. I thought about going into the radio manufacturing business, but too lazy, rather talk than work, and besides ya couldn’t sell this stuff until the sun went down.
Now with the additional equipment made of hammers and nails and puppy dog tails I was able to talk a little farther away, like South Florida and even Cuba, to New York State like it was across the road. The FCC tended to frown on that type equipment being used on the assigned Citizen Band Frequencies, so we built equipment to modify the frequencies which the radios would broadcast. That little business enterprise produced a revenue stream also.
One winter night when there were men walking on the Moon, I turned my antenna toward ‘em and said hello from the cold country of Northern Indiana, but they didn’t answer back, now ya got to understand they were real busy at that time and were probably just too busy to visit with me. But there’s no doubt in my mind they heard me if they were on the same radio frequency as the Thunder Base Broadcast, or even close frequency to where the Thunder Base was broadcasting.
While talking on CB Radios everybody had a nick name, mine was The Medicine Man, ya didn’t get to choose your nick name, someone else did. I never liked mine, it reminded me of an old Indian with a big black hat and pig tails. But it worked, and so I was The Medicine Man.
Now during the day and early evening when I talked on the CB Radio, I was just the same Medicine Man that everyone talked to. It was after prime time TV that things changed. Changed a lot. A few flipped switches and a couple turns of knobs, and things started to heat up. Now this was the old days of radio, still had tubes inside things and it did take time to warm up. But when it did, WOW! IT WAS HOT !
The Thunder Base went on air as “Radio Free Indiana, the voice of the Cold Country”. Talking long distance radio is kinda dependent on the weather. It take certain weather conditions to do the best job. Winter tends to work better than summer. Clear night skies work best. On clear, cold winter nights, under full power, the Thunder Base was a fun toy to play with, AND THE THUNDER ROLLED!
The only downside of the Thunder Base was its capability to interrupt television and radio reception in the neighborhood, total wipe out for one mile, extensive interruption for two miles, considerable disruption at three miles, noticeable disruption at four miles. But by the time ya got to Toto from my house ya hardly even noticed the Thunder Base was broadcasting, just thought that interference was the weather or something. Back then a lot of electric motors produced interference on the television frequencies, some more so than others. So a lot of times when the Thunder Base spoke on air, the neighbors thought a local farmer was just wielding or something.
Thinking about it, talking on CB Radios in the late 60’s through much of the 70’s was much like facebook today, except no faces. I’ve done both, I have spoke from the Thunder Base, and I’m on Facebook. Well, after seeing some of the faces, I prefer the Thunder Base. Pictures in your mind can serve ya well. Pictures on facebook can scare ya, early and often.
One of the amazing transformations which has taken place in the East Wing as a direct result of the arrival last June of the Garage Cats, is Sophia the Republican Cat’s attitude toward things, everything. As ya remember only one of the small cats survived the “Night of the Wild Dogs” and Regina named her Angel. Well, because of that Angel, Sophia is now an inside / outside girl. She goes outside with Mustina and comes inside when Mustina comes in. She still slaps the Angel around every once in a while just for the fun of it.
The one thing that has not changed is her politics. Last Tuesday evening as two gubernatorial races went Republican, I thought that cat was gona have kittens she was so excited, bouncing off the walls, got in the 2girldogs face and never shut up all night.
Wednesday Morning when the White House put the spin out that the election results in both Virginia and New Jersey had nothing to do with the policies of the President, or the Democratic Agenda in Washington, I thought the cat would bust a gut laughing out loud. Then to top it all off, Nancy Pelosi comes out with her statement that the Democrats really won last night. I’m telling ya the cat was doing hand stands, back flips and standing on her tail. This cat was so excited that she, herself, could have easily been one ring of a three ring circus.
Now I’m use to seeing Sophia smile, but that standing on her tail thing, I’d never seen that before. The Sophia tail stand may be the single most impressive cat trick in the history of hearth. When I asked her to do it again so I could take a picture, she said “did I really do that?” She tried and tried, to no avail. But she did once, just once, in jubilation over Nancy Pelosi’s most embarrassing moment yet, trying to pretend that the loss of two governor seats did nothing to reflect the country’s attitude toward events in Washington.
Sophia is starting to look ahead to the next local election, She may be working in the background already, laying the groundwork, just getting ready. Not sure what office she may be looking at, but would not be surprised if she decides to get actively involved in local politics next time around. She had compiled an extensive email list of Red Cat Republicans within the last several months, and I can only surmise that something is up. (Damn Republican Cat)
Did anybody get that letter last week from President Obama asking your financial support for the Democratic National Committee. Wanting donations to assure his agenda of change is implemented in our society? Strange letter, poorly written. It left me cold, and I’m a democrat.
The letter made assumptions about me and my life and my home and family that were so far away from reality that I decided to respond to the letter and offer the DNC to write a better letter.
Said he wanted to come and sit at my kitchen table and talk with me about the needs of our country, and hear my thoughts on issues concerning me and my life. Now the President’s writing me this personal letter and all, and he doesn’t even know that I don’t have a kitchen table. That just don’t seem right. After reading that letter several times, I’m not too sure he wrote it himself.
But if the President wants to come by anyway, even without the kitchen table, that’s ok. I’m sure Sophia the Republican Cat would be more than happy to entertain the President. Maybe she’d be able to do another one of those cat tail stands. So far the DNC hasn’t gotten back to me yet about me revising the letter.
Went stargazing last night, me and Johnny, looked at star stuff. One of the thrills ya get with stargazing is knowing that most wherever ya look in the heavens, you may be the first human ever to see that spot in the sky. Ya could spend a life time just looking at the Milky Way and never see 1/1000 of 1% of 1%. I don’t care who ya are that’s a small amount, the Milky Way’s just that big. Now the Milky Way is not even a bump on a log when it comes to the whole universe, and I’m not even talking ‘bout the universes’ outside ours, yes, outside ours. It’s kinda like, just outside Chicago, there’s a place called Illinois. Stargazing-----it’s such a cool trip.
Surly yesterday and today have been special weather gifts from God. It’s not too often we see mid seventies in November, Uh oh, mid seventies in November, Al Gore is gona start that global warming crap again. The fact that this summer past was the coldest since 1947 does not play into the formula, nor the fact that the average worldwide temperature has declined every year for the last ten years. It’s mid seventies in November, the sky’s falling….Chicken Little.
As usual we have enjoyed you company on this second Sunday in November. We thank you for coming to visit.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing,With The Thunder Base, Sophia laughing at Spin Doctors, and Stargazing.
I wish you well
BobbyRay
On behalf of my family as well as myself, thank you one and all for such kind words and expressions of sympathy on the loss of our beloved Mother, Mother in-law and Grandmother. She will remain a part of all of us forever. Your words and precious thoughts toward my family and I shall never be forgotten. I could never have anticipated the extent of such outpouring of sympathy from around the world. I’m truly humbled by just the thought. From the start of my ramblings from the East Wing, I have never received such a volume of email. I thank you so.
With the coming of November all hope of warmer weather is all but lost when ya live in the cold county of Northern Indiana, even though yesterday and today are exceptional to say the least. From now until March or so we will tend to see more gloomy weather than that connected with the 4th of July. I love gloomy weather as much as I love 4th of July weather.
When I typed “cold country” it reminded me of when I used to talk on the CB Radio Frequency of the public air ways. On long cold winter nights, before computers, there was just not too many toys to play with. Ya can only watch so much television, then ya become a slug. I didn’t want to be a slug, so I decided to talk.
Now this was back in the day when ya had to apply to the FCC and pay, yes pay for a CB Radio License. The application had your name, address, age, sex, DOB and all that stuff. It cost $25.00, I think the price was so high to keep out the riff raff. It didn’t work. I joined the party.
With a new FCC License in hand, I sat out to purchase my radio station. The first stop was the Radio Shack, it just made since to me as a good place to start. Looking at all the radio stuff they had won both my heart and checkbook. Now this was before credit cards. If ya bought something, ya paid for it. If ya didn’t have the money, ya didn’t buy it till ya saved up the money, or ya didn’t get it. WOW !! such a novel idea, wonder if that would work today? I wonder if the Obama people have ever heard of that idea? Probably not.
In no time at all I had my radio station installed in a corner of my living room (this was a long time before the East Wing was even thought about) and with trepidation flipped the switch, the lights came one and I sat in amazement that I could hear people talk. I listened for a long time gathering enough courage to press down on the microphone and speak my first words on the air way. When fear was conquered, the magic button was pressed and I spoke the gospel according to BobbyRay.
The FCC License limited the radio station to 4 watts broadcasting power. Using the original capacity of the licensed transceiver I was able to talk to other people 10 to 12 miles away maximum. That seemed a rather short distance to me. I decided to enhance that broadcasting power ability somewhat by the use of additional electronic equipment attached to the radio. Equipment not readily available at the Radio Shack Store. Ya had to make this equipment yourself or know somebody who could, or they knew somebody who could.
I made my own, of hammers and nails and puppy dog tails, that’s what little boys make stuff of. It worked better than I expected. In fact it worked so good I decided to build a bigger, better one. So I did. It worked so good, I decided to build a bigger, better one. So I did, four times. Each time I sold the one being replaced as soon as I got the new one built. I thought about going into the radio manufacturing business, but too lazy, rather talk than work, and besides ya couldn’t sell this stuff until the sun went down.
Now with the additional equipment made of hammers and nails and puppy dog tails I was able to talk a little farther away, like South Florida and even Cuba, to New York State like it was across the road. The FCC tended to frown on that type equipment being used on the assigned Citizen Band Frequencies, so we built equipment to modify the frequencies which the radios would broadcast. That little business enterprise produced a revenue stream also.
One winter night when there were men walking on the Moon, I turned my antenna toward ‘em and said hello from the cold country of Northern Indiana, but they didn’t answer back, now ya got to understand they were real busy at that time and were probably just too busy to visit with me. But there’s no doubt in my mind they heard me if they were on the same radio frequency as the Thunder Base Broadcast, or even close frequency to where the Thunder Base was broadcasting.
While talking on CB Radios everybody had a nick name, mine was The Medicine Man, ya didn’t get to choose your nick name, someone else did. I never liked mine, it reminded me of an old Indian with a big black hat and pig tails. But it worked, and so I was The Medicine Man.
Now during the day and early evening when I talked on the CB Radio, I was just the same Medicine Man that everyone talked to. It was after prime time TV that things changed. Changed a lot. A few flipped switches and a couple turns of knobs, and things started to heat up. Now this was the old days of radio, still had tubes inside things and it did take time to warm up. But when it did, WOW! IT WAS HOT !
The Thunder Base went on air as “Radio Free Indiana, the voice of the Cold Country”. Talking long distance radio is kinda dependent on the weather. It take certain weather conditions to do the best job. Winter tends to work better than summer. Clear night skies work best. On clear, cold winter nights, under full power, the Thunder Base was a fun toy to play with, AND THE THUNDER ROLLED!
The only downside of the Thunder Base was its capability to interrupt television and radio reception in the neighborhood, total wipe out for one mile, extensive interruption for two miles, considerable disruption at three miles, noticeable disruption at four miles. But by the time ya got to Toto from my house ya hardly even noticed the Thunder Base was broadcasting, just thought that interference was the weather or something. Back then a lot of electric motors produced interference on the television frequencies, some more so than others. So a lot of times when the Thunder Base spoke on air, the neighbors thought a local farmer was just wielding or something.
Thinking about it, talking on CB Radios in the late 60’s through much of the 70’s was much like facebook today, except no faces. I’ve done both, I have spoke from the Thunder Base, and I’m on Facebook. Well, after seeing some of the faces, I prefer the Thunder Base. Pictures in your mind can serve ya well. Pictures on facebook can scare ya, early and often.
One of the amazing transformations which has taken place in the East Wing as a direct result of the arrival last June of the Garage Cats, is Sophia the Republican Cat’s attitude toward things, everything. As ya remember only one of the small cats survived the “Night of the Wild Dogs” and Regina named her Angel. Well, because of that Angel, Sophia is now an inside / outside girl. She goes outside with Mustina and comes inside when Mustina comes in. She still slaps the Angel around every once in a while just for the fun of it.
The one thing that has not changed is her politics. Last Tuesday evening as two gubernatorial races went Republican, I thought that cat was gona have kittens she was so excited, bouncing off the walls, got in the 2girldogs face and never shut up all night.
Wednesday Morning when the White House put the spin out that the election results in both Virginia and New Jersey had nothing to do with the policies of the President, or the Democratic Agenda in Washington, I thought the cat would bust a gut laughing out loud. Then to top it all off, Nancy Pelosi comes out with her statement that the Democrats really won last night. I’m telling ya the cat was doing hand stands, back flips and standing on her tail. This cat was so excited that she, herself, could have easily been one ring of a three ring circus.
Now I’m use to seeing Sophia smile, but that standing on her tail thing, I’d never seen that before. The Sophia tail stand may be the single most impressive cat trick in the history of hearth. When I asked her to do it again so I could take a picture, she said “did I really do that?” She tried and tried, to no avail. But she did once, just once, in jubilation over Nancy Pelosi’s most embarrassing moment yet, trying to pretend that the loss of two governor seats did nothing to reflect the country’s attitude toward events in Washington.
Sophia is starting to look ahead to the next local election, She may be working in the background already, laying the groundwork, just getting ready. Not sure what office she may be looking at, but would not be surprised if she decides to get actively involved in local politics next time around. She had compiled an extensive email list of Red Cat Republicans within the last several months, and I can only surmise that something is up. (Damn Republican Cat)
Did anybody get that letter last week from President Obama asking your financial support for the Democratic National Committee. Wanting donations to assure his agenda of change is implemented in our society? Strange letter, poorly written. It left me cold, and I’m a democrat.
The letter made assumptions about me and my life and my home and family that were so far away from reality that I decided to respond to the letter and offer the DNC to write a better letter.
Said he wanted to come and sit at my kitchen table and talk with me about the needs of our country, and hear my thoughts on issues concerning me and my life. Now the President’s writing me this personal letter and all, and he doesn’t even know that I don’t have a kitchen table. That just don’t seem right. After reading that letter several times, I’m not too sure he wrote it himself.
But if the President wants to come by anyway, even without the kitchen table, that’s ok. I’m sure Sophia the Republican Cat would be more than happy to entertain the President. Maybe she’d be able to do another one of those cat tail stands. So far the DNC hasn’t gotten back to me yet about me revising the letter.
Went stargazing last night, me and Johnny, looked at star stuff. One of the thrills ya get with stargazing is knowing that most wherever ya look in the heavens, you may be the first human ever to see that spot in the sky. Ya could spend a life time just looking at the Milky Way and never see 1/1000 of 1% of 1%. I don’t care who ya are that’s a small amount, the Milky Way’s just that big. Now the Milky Way is not even a bump on a log when it comes to the whole universe, and I’m not even talking ‘bout the universes’ outside ours, yes, outside ours. It’s kinda like, just outside Chicago, there’s a place called Illinois. Stargazing-----it’s such a cool trip.
Surly yesterday and today have been special weather gifts from God. It’s not too often we see mid seventies in November, Uh oh, mid seventies in November, Al Gore is gona start that global warming crap again. The fact that this summer past was the coldest since 1947 does not play into the formula, nor the fact that the average worldwide temperature has declined every year for the last ten years. It’s mid seventies in November, the sky’s falling….Chicken Little.
As usual we have enjoyed you company on this second Sunday in November. We thank you for coming to visit.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing,With The Thunder Base, Sophia laughing at Spin Doctors, and Stargazing.
I wish you well
BobbyRay
Sunday, November 1, 2009
From the East Wing with Mechanically Separated Chicken and Watching an Angel Fly
Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing,
One of the true pleasures in my life is to set at the same table each week and talk to you from the keyboard, and one of the perks of that task is looking at my favorite tree in the yard, the large Maple Tree standing directly between my computer and the road, 800 South. Watching this tree every week at pretty much the same time allows for me to observe things that ya just wouldn’t see if ya just looked once in a while.
Setting here in the East Wing by the warmth of the fireplace, this day after Halloween, while the outside temperature hovers at 48°F my beautiful Maple Tree gave up the last gleaming rays of summer past, as a sudden northwest breeze pulled the final leaves of my favorite tree. Much the same way as that unseen mechanical monster referenced in the very, very small print on most packaged meat products. “Mechanically separated chicken.”
Now what the hell is mechanically separated chicken? Imagine, if you will, a Rube Goldberg type machine, four stories high, no windows, just one small door on the front, with an even smaller door on the other end of the building, and painted Snow White, with chickens, as far back as the horizon, marching up to and stepping on a conveyer belt that takes them into this enormous, growling, light blinking, steam blowing, dials turning, motor humming, smoke puffing, gurgling, pulley spinning, vibrating, environmental polluting, Ozone depleting machine. On the far end of this chicken receiving apparatus, delivered by conveyer belt, chicken pot pies, in unison with the step of the chickens. While all the steps between walking chickens and pot pies, are shrouded in mystery. A flip of a switch and the conveyer delivers McNuggets, Hot Wings, Drum Sticks, or even hot dogs, all from one magic switch.
An inconspicuous spigot on the side of the machine is right next to a white Styrofoam Cup Dispenser. Over both spigot and dispenser, a sign which appears to be painted with a black spray paint can and a stencil says “Chicken Soup”
Mechanically separated chicken. I wonder what else is mechanically separated that they don’t even bother to tell us about. There surely must be more, my best advice is read the labels. Labels don’t lie but liars label. They try to sneak that stuff in on ya ever time they can.
Wow! After seeing one of those machines that do such unthinkable things to those poor chickens, it’s easy to mistrust the government. Now you can see why there was so much hate and mistrust of the Bush Administration, (damn republicans) allowing such atrocities to occur in our society and keeping it from the American People. Having Dick Chaney run all over the place, shooting people and all, trying to cover up the real mess they created by their industrialization of the hand feather picking profession.
One need look any farther than your local newspaper to see page after page of job wanted ads of feather pickers advertising for chickens to pick. That workforce is idle, doomed forever to be included in the government projected number of total unemployed workers. Professional Chicken Feather Pickers do not retrain into new job skill easily. It’s hard to learn to weld after ya’ve plucked the down.
No wonder the new Attorney General is looking into giving chickens the same legal rights as the illegal aliens. After all something has to be done, these helpless chickens deserve to have fair housing, food stamps, health care, and education in their native language, and to have legal counsel, the Lord knows we have enough lawyers to go around. We brought ‘em here from Africa, no not Africa, they came from the egg. I don’t know who brought the egg.
The fact remains that the survivors of chickens who so bravely faced the mechanical separator and lost, deserve recompense. Untold generations have suffered at the hands of the chicken owners. Through no fault of their own they find themselves underprivileged , undereducated, disadvantaged, and without food or shelter, except that provided by the chicken masters. Just living from day to day, not going to school, and talking that chicken coop ghetto rap, and doing crack (corn).
Unable to take their rightful place in society this group was secretly wooed at night as the chicken owners slept in their warm beds, enjoying dreams of pot pies, chicken soups, chicken breasts, dumplings, thighs, and other abominations against the chicks.
Under the cover of darkness, coops throughout the land were infiltrated with professional Chicken Organizers who had been specifically trained in the fine art of chicken organizing, down to the detail of instructing receptive hens in the fine arts of clucking. While the roosters were tutored in the social skills necessary for the correct public cock-a-doddle-doing and the overall chicken community self esteem was lifted to a new height due solely to this invasion of the Community Organizers Chicken Organizers.
But like so many things in life, this too had a price, a sinister side, a dark side, the side exposed to the shadow of the valley of death. There was secret evil intent on the side of the Chicken Organizers. They had not come to the chicken communities for the good of the chickens, rather to do the bidding of their own masters. WWCCOA, it was carried by the wind on the fears of the feathers.
After gaining the Chicken Community trust, the World Wide Chicken Community Organizers Association (WWCCOA) set about doing their dastardly deeds. The chickens being dumb and honest provided all the personal information requested by WWCCOA, after all they were all in the same coop.
When the questioners were completed, name, date of hatching, sex (h or r) coop address, feather color and comb style were all the items needed to pull off the largest identify theft since the history of the egg.
In no time at all, WWCCOA had millions of identifies, all computerized by zip code. Social Security Numbers were received, Credit Cards were obtained, Medicare Claims were filed. Federal Housing Subsidies for coops were a major source of income. As the money rolled in WWCCOA found new avenues of producing income streams. Selling the chicken database.
Then National Democratic Party bought 40 million chicken identifies and included them in the 47 million American without health insurance. The democrats registered 14 million chickens to vote.
Not to be out done. The National Republican Party bought 50 million chicken identifies, after being told by WWCCOA that the democrats had bought 50 million, and promptly announced that only 12 million of the chickens didn’t have health insurance. The republicans registered 15 million chickens to vote.
It turned out the chicken registration in Chicago was being held back to see if it was needed. It was.
Mayor Dailey announced that 2 million additional registrations had been overlooked when the original count was concluded, so it boosted the democrats chicken registration to 16 million.
With income from Medicare Fraud, Credit Card Fraud, Federal Housing Subsidies Fraud, Social Security Payments Fraud ya would think there would be enough for all. All this paled compared to the real purpose of WWCCOA. WWCCOA was created for the sole purpose of supplying the demand. The demand had to be met, forever the demand had to be met. Whatever it takes is the motto of WWCCOA.
And so the line never ends, all day all night, every day, every night. At night the big machine is illuminated with such bright spot lights its white color seems to glow.
Should ya stand by that line of chickens stretching back to the horizon, and ask one why they’re in line. The same answer is always given,“Oh the Chicken Organizer gave me a ticket, I’m going to get to see the inside of the White House”.
As you start to turn away from the line of chickens, in the corner of your eye ya may see someone pull down a white Styrofoam cup, turn the spigot, and sure enough, Chicken Soup. Mechanically Separated Chicken Soup.
There is a time for every ting, a time to laugh , a time to cry, a time to live and a time to die. Last week I lost a friend, a girl friend, a mother-in-law, and so, so much more. It was a time to cry.
The first time I saw her, she was Lucy Griffo. On a warm Saturday Morning in mid September, 1960 I knocked on her back door. She came to the door and asked “Can I help you?” I said “is Regina home?”
Lucy looked at me as only an Italian Mother with a beautiful 16 year old daughter can look, when a 16 year old hillbilly boy from Toto knocks on her back door. She looked into my soul. She got Regina. Regina invited me inside. She introduced me to her family. They were different people than my family. They were Italian.
A few weeks after that I introduced Regina to my family. They all fell in love with her at first site. ( We’d never seen an Italian before, and she was the prettiest girl we’d ever seen)
It was not too long after that, that I was once again setting in the swing on the front porch on a Sunday Evening with my dad. My dad and I sat a lot in the swing on the front porch on Sunday Evening, just about every Sunday Evening. We talked man to boy stuff. Sometimes we didn’t even have to talk. As we swung that evening I said “I got a girl friend”. My dad said “I’m not surprised. She’s a pretty girl”. I said “Yep”.
We swung for a long time and didn’t say anything. Then my dad said “BobbyRay don’t ever do anything with your girlfriend that will make me not be proud of you”. I said “Ok” And I kept my word, ‘cause when ya said something while setting in the swing with your dad, ya had to keep your word. My dad always kept his word and so did I.
When Lucy decided I was not going to go away, no matter what, she decided to just love me instead, and she did. She told me so and showed me so for 49 years. I loved her as my mother. I’ll miss her forever.
To resolve my feeling of loss, I finally concluded it was just time that Lucy stop being a Grandma and start being an Angel. The time had come. I believe in Angels.
Thank you so much for this first day on November visit. I along with 2dogs, 1cat, 1Angel and 1wife do so appreciate your visit and enjoy your company in the East Wing.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing with Mechanically Separated Chicken and Watching an Angel Fly
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
One of the true pleasures in my life is to set at the same table each week and talk to you from the keyboard, and one of the perks of that task is looking at my favorite tree in the yard, the large Maple Tree standing directly between my computer and the road, 800 South. Watching this tree every week at pretty much the same time allows for me to observe things that ya just wouldn’t see if ya just looked once in a while.
Setting here in the East Wing by the warmth of the fireplace, this day after Halloween, while the outside temperature hovers at 48°F my beautiful Maple Tree gave up the last gleaming rays of summer past, as a sudden northwest breeze pulled the final leaves of my favorite tree. Much the same way as that unseen mechanical monster referenced in the very, very small print on most packaged meat products. “Mechanically separated chicken.”
Now what the hell is mechanically separated chicken? Imagine, if you will, a Rube Goldberg type machine, four stories high, no windows, just one small door on the front, with an even smaller door on the other end of the building, and painted Snow White, with chickens, as far back as the horizon, marching up to and stepping on a conveyer belt that takes them into this enormous, growling, light blinking, steam blowing, dials turning, motor humming, smoke puffing, gurgling, pulley spinning, vibrating, environmental polluting, Ozone depleting machine. On the far end of this chicken receiving apparatus, delivered by conveyer belt, chicken pot pies, in unison with the step of the chickens. While all the steps between walking chickens and pot pies, are shrouded in mystery. A flip of a switch and the conveyer delivers McNuggets, Hot Wings, Drum Sticks, or even hot dogs, all from one magic switch.
An inconspicuous spigot on the side of the machine is right next to a white Styrofoam Cup Dispenser. Over both spigot and dispenser, a sign which appears to be painted with a black spray paint can and a stencil says “Chicken Soup”
Mechanically separated chicken. I wonder what else is mechanically separated that they don’t even bother to tell us about. There surely must be more, my best advice is read the labels. Labels don’t lie but liars label. They try to sneak that stuff in on ya ever time they can.
Wow! After seeing one of those machines that do such unthinkable things to those poor chickens, it’s easy to mistrust the government. Now you can see why there was so much hate and mistrust of the Bush Administration, (damn republicans) allowing such atrocities to occur in our society and keeping it from the American People. Having Dick Chaney run all over the place, shooting people and all, trying to cover up the real mess they created by their industrialization of the hand feather picking profession.
One need look any farther than your local newspaper to see page after page of job wanted ads of feather pickers advertising for chickens to pick. That workforce is idle, doomed forever to be included in the government projected number of total unemployed workers. Professional Chicken Feather Pickers do not retrain into new job skill easily. It’s hard to learn to weld after ya’ve plucked the down.
No wonder the new Attorney General is looking into giving chickens the same legal rights as the illegal aliens. After all something has to be done, these helpless chickens deserve to have fair housing, food stamps, health care, and education in their native language, and to have legal counsel, the Lord knows we have enough lawyers to go around. We brought ‘em here from Africa, no not Africa, they came from the egg. I don’t know who brought the egg.
The fact remains that the survivors of chickens who so bravely faced the mechanical separator and lost, deserve recompense. Untold generations have suffered at the hands of the chicken owners. Through no fault of their own they find themselves underprivileged , undereducated, disadvantaged, and without food or shelter, except that provided by the chicken masters. Just living from day to day, not going to school, and talking that chicken coop ghetto rap, and doing crack (corn).
Unable to take their rightful place in society this group was secretly wooed at night as the chicken owners slept in their warm beds, enjoying dreams of pot pies, chicken soups, chicken breasts, dumplings, thighs, and other abominations against the chicks.
Under the cover of darkness, coops throughout the land were infiltrated with professional Chicken Organizers who had been specifically trained in the fine art of chicken organizing, down to the detail of instructing receptive hens in the fine arts of clucking. While the roosters were tutored in the social skills necessary for the correct public cock-a-doddle-doing and the overall chicken community self esteem was lifted to a new height due solely to this invasion of the Community Organizers Chicken Organizers.
But like so many things in life, this too had a price, a sinister side, a dark side, the side exposed to the shadow of the valley of death. There was secret evil intent on the side of the Chicken Organizers. They had not come to the chicken communities for the good of the chickens, rather to do the bidding of their own masters. WWCCOA, it was carried by the wind on the fears of the feathers.
After gaining the Chicken Community trust, the World Wide Chicken Community Organizers Association (WWCCOA) set about doing their dastardly deeds. The chickens being dumb and honest provided all the personal information requested by WWCCOA, after all they were all in the same coop.
When the questioners were completed, name, date of hatching, sex (h or r) coop address, feather color and comb style were all the items needed to pull off the largest identify theft since the history of the egg.
In no time at all, WWCCOA had millions of identifies, all computerized by zip code. Social Security Numbers were received, Credit Cards were obtained, Medicare Claims were filed. Federal Housing Subsidies for coops were a major source of income. As the money rolled in WWCCOA found new avenues of producing income streams. Selling the chicken database.
Then National Democratic Party bought 40 million chicken identifies and included them in the 47 million American without health insurance. The democrats registered 14 million chickens to vote.
Not to be out done. The National Republican Party bought 50 million chicken identifies, after being told by WWCCOA that the democrats had bought 50 million, and promptly announced that only 12 million of the chickens didn’t have health insurance. The republicans registered 15 million chickens to vote.
It turned out the chicken registration in Chicago was being held back to see if it was needed. It was.
Mayor Dailey announced that 2 million additional registrations had been overlooked when the original count was concluded, so it boosted the democrats chicken registration to 16 million.
With income from Medicare Fraud, Credit Card Fraud, Federal Housing Subsidies Fraud, Social Security Payments Fraud ya would think there would be enough for all. All this paled compared to the real purpose of WWCCOA. WWCCOA was created for the sole purpose of supplying the demand. The demand had to be met, forever the demand had to be met. Whatever it takes is the motto of WWCCOA.
And so the line never ends, all day all night, every day, every night. At night the big machine is illuminated with such bright spot lights its white color seems to glow.
Should ya stand by that line of chickens stretching back to the horizon, and ask one why they’re in line. The same answer is always given,“Oh the Chicken Organizer gave me a ticket, I’m going to get to see the inside of the White House”.
As you start to turn away from the line of chickens, in the corner of your eye ya may see someone pull down a white Styrofoam cup, turn the spigot, and sure enough, Chicken Soup. Mechanically Separated Chicken Soup.
There is a time for every ting, a time to laugh , a time to cry, a time to live and a time to die. Last week I lost a friend, a girl friend, a mother-in-law, and so, so much more. It was a time to cry.
The first time I saw her, she was Lucy Griffo. On a warm Saturday Morning in mid September, 1960 I knocked on her back door. She came to the door and asked “Can I help you?” I said “is Regina home?”
Lucy looked at me as only an Italian Mother with a beautiful 16 year old daughter can look, when a 16 year old hillbilly boy from Toto knocks on her back door. She looked into my soul. She got Regina. Regina invited me inside. She introduced me to her family. They were different people than my family. They were Italian.
A few weeks after that I introduced Regina to my family. They all fell in love with her at first site. ( We’d never seen an Italian before, and she was the prettiest girl we’d ever seen)
It was not too long after that, that I was once again setting in the swing on the front porch on a Sunday Evening with my dad. My dad and I sat a lot in the swing on the front porch on Sunday Evening, just about every Sunday Evening. We talked man to boy stuff. Sometimes we didn’t even have to talk. As we swung that evening I said “I got a girl friend”. My dad said “I’m not surprised. She’s a pretty girl”. I said “Yep”.
We swung for a long time and didn’t say anything. Then my dad said “BobbyRay don’t ever do anything with your girlfriend that will make me not be proud of you”. I said “Ok” And I kept my word, ‘cause when ya said something while setting in the swing with your dad, ya had to keep your word. My dad always kept his word and so did I.
When Lucy decided I was not going to go away, no matter what, she decided to just love me instead, and she did. She told me so and showed me so for 49 years. I loved her as my mother. I’ll miss her forever.
To resolve my feeling of loss, I finally concluded it was just time that Lucy stop being a Grandma and start being an Angel. The time had come. I believe in Angels.
Thank you so much for this first day on November visit. I along with 2dogs, 1cat, 1Angel and 1wife do so appreciate your visit and enjoy your company in the East Wing.
Stay safe in Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing with Mechanically Separated Chicken and Watching an Angel Fly
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
Sunday, October 25, 2009
From The East Wing Trick or Treating With The Toto Volunteers
Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.
The biggest holiday, hands down, in Downtown Toto when I was a kid was Halloween. Now ya had the other important stuff like Easter, 4th of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Jefferson Davis’s Birthday (some habits were hard to turn loose) but none of these holidays could compare with Halloween.
It was the time of independence from family, the time to test your courage, to face your fears of the nighttime knowing they were out there and not knowing who or where. A time to be both horrified and happy all in the same heartbeat. A time to scare little sisters. A time to step into the shadow of the valley. A time to march, to prowl the darkness in the company of the band of brothers, the Toto Volunteers.
The Halloween Bounty seemed unlimited, so much so that we, the Toto Volunteers, never made any attempt to control its access. We could have, we chose not to. Toto could have become the model Trick or Treat Community for the National Standard of Trick or Treat, had we choose to make it so. We could have, we chose not to.
The reason for such actions on the part of the Volunteers is as valid today as when the War Council deliberated on that very issue. There was a fraction within the ranks who wanted to do to Halloween what we had been so successful in our summer campaign. Just the summer past, we had collected more pop bottles then most of the army thought existed in the world. We’d won the Pop Bottle Wars of Toto.
The issue of the Halloween Candy was brought to the War Council not by inexperienced people with no knowledge of war, but from people seasoned by fire on the front lines of the Pop Bottle Wars. People who were even as old as 11 and one even held the rank of sergeant.
Now in the Toto Volunteers we had a little different ranking system than the regular army. Ours was more simple. I got to be the General, there were two sergeants, and everybody else got to be a private. That way we didn’t have to spend a lot of time trying to figure out who was in charge. Besides, we didn’t have different uniforms so it was a lot easier to just remember a few to salute, otherwise everybody would be saluting each other all day long for nothing.
The Halloween Options as they would become know to the Volunteers were quite simple, two different options. The first option being the Toto Volunteers go Trick or Treating the night before the real Halloween and then go again the next night, that way everybody gets twice as much stuff. The second option would be for the Volunteers to just charge everybody Trick or Treating in Toto, and not a member of the Volunteers, a nickel. It was just two weeks till Halloween and the council wanted to make a decision right there, but I told ‘em the decision was too important, it’d have to wait for a while. I had to think this one out.
One of the things I learned by being the General of the Toto Volunteers was when I didn’t know what to do, I could always ask my dad. I’d act like I was just a little kid asking a dumb question, not like the general seeking consultation on an issue of possible war. When I talked to my dad about such important matters we usually done our man to boy talks on the porch swing, even in late October man to boy talks worked better in the swing.
As we sat swinging I said “Did ya ever go trick or treating?” My dad said “Yep” “Did ya ever go trick or treating the day before Halloween?” My dad said “Nope” I said “why not?” My dad said “Did ya ever have a birthday party a day before your birthday? Could ya have the 4th of July Picnic the day before? What would happen to Christmas if ya didn’t have the 25th of December, not the 24th but the 25th?” I was starting to see my dad’s point of view on this issue of trick or treating one day early as we swung together on the front porch in the crisp autumn air just nine days before Halloween.
I said “Ya think a person could make somebody pay to go trick or treating” My dad said “Not in Toto, cause everybody that tricks or treats in Toto don’t have any money to start with, and besides who would be dumb enough to even try to get somebody to pay to go trick or treating?” I didn’t say nothing. One of the good things about talking with my dad in that swing was he didn’t make me say anything if I didn’t want to, and right then I didn’t want to.
So there is was. Ya can’t go the night before ‘cause that’s dumb, and nobody’s got any money and if ya even ask someone to pay that’s dumb too. My dad imparted a great deal of wisdom from the confines of that swing. He made my job of generaling a lot easier on more than one occasion.
Well, I had my answers now I only had to deal with the Toto Volunteers. I spent most of that night trying to figure out a way to get the War Council on my side. I knew what I had to do but wanted the them to tell me, not me tell them. Somewhere in the darkness, about the time today turned into tomorrow and became yesterday I finally figured a way to present my views to the Council. The next day I called an after school meeting of the War Council of the Toto Volunteers. We met on my front porch.
Now one of the downside products of victory on the battle field is the overwhelming desire to repeat the same feat over and over again. I was not about to let that happen to the Toto Volunteers. As soon as everybody was present I presented my plan. The plan was simple. I couldn’t choose which one I liked best so we would do ‘em both.
But for the trick or treat the night before Halloween we’d all have to have get our moms to sign a letter saying we could go out after dark just in case someone wanted to know why we were there at their house a night early for trick or treat, so we could tell ‘em our moms said we could come trick or treating early. Also everyone had to ask their mom if she thought it would be ok to charge people for trick or treating in Toto.
I had printed out a letter to give every member. Because I ran the mimeograph machine at California Township School I ran off copies of the letter. I had printed it on a stencil and it looked really professional. As the volunteers read the letter, ya could still smell the mimeograph ink, it was blue kind. I could tell by their looks that they were gona have a hard time getting their mom to sign that letter. I know I sure would not ask my mom to sign that letter.
One kid said “my mom will kill me if she sees this letter, I’m not gona take it home”. He brought his letter back and reached it to me saying “let’s just go regular trick or treating”. Some of the others thought we could still do both options. My faith was in the letter.
The next morning at the bus stop not a single volunteer who took the letter home wanted to talk about it. One guy said “I might not even want to go trick or treating this year, I don’t know if I do or not. I’ll just have to wait till Halloween an see”. The plan was working. Two days later the War Council of the Toto Volunteers made a decision to do regular trick or treating in Toto and to make sure nobody would ever do anything except regular trick or treating in Toto forever in the future.
We, the Toto Volunteers, took a solemn oath to forever protect the unbridled right to trick or treat in Toto Indiana on Halloween without interference from anybody forever and ever. That right to trick or treat in Toto has been protected to this day.
And then came the politicians, regulations trick or treat hours. I think it was a republican thing first, probably too damn tight to buy candy for little kids. Then the democrats jumped on the band wagon, probably with a bribe of some sort from the republicans. A pox on both their houses, to even think ya can regulate Halloween.
Next thing ya gona hear is some smart ass in Washington will propose to make Halloween a federal holiday and place on the last Monday in October, in order to bring it in line with the other fake Monday Federal Holidays. It wouldn’t surprise me if Obama tries to move Easter to the day after. Easter Monday does not have a good sound to it, but one less work day for the democrats.
Now towns announce the time to go trick or treating. Trick or treating at 3:00PM is like kissing your sister at high noon in public park, it’s just not that much fun. The question that comes to mind is what ya gona do if some little monster tricks or treats before or after the set deadlines?
Now if ya shoot ‘em all ya get the guilty. I think we need a Halloween Czar. Hey Sophia!!!
As the fall season really kicks in on this last Sunday in October, we have enjoyed you company as usual this Evening.
Stay safe in South Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing Trick or Treating with the Toto Volunteers
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
The biggest holiday, hands down, in Downtown Toto when I was a kid was Halloween. Now ya had the other important stuff like Easter, 4th of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Jefferson Davis’s Birthday (some habits were hard to turn loose) but none of these holidays could compare with Halloween.
It was the time of independence from family, the time to test your courage, to face your fears of the nighttime knowing they were out there and not knowing who or where. A time to be both horrified and happy all in the same heartbeat. A time to scare little sisters. A time to step into the shadow of the valley. A time to march, to prowl the darkness in the company of the band of brothers, the Toto Volunteers.
The Halloween Bounty seemed unlimited, so much so that we, the Toto Volunteers, never made any attempt to control its access. We could have, we chose not to. Toto could have become the model Trick or Treat Community for the National Standard of Trick or Treat, had we choose to make it so. We could have, we chose not to.
The reason for such actions on the part of the Volunteers is as valid today as when the War Council deliberated on that very issue. There was a fraction within the ranks who wanted to do to Halloween what we had been so successful in our summer campaign. Just the summer past, we had collected more pop bottles then most of the army thought existed in the world. We’d won the Pop Bottle Wars of Toto.
The issue of the Halloween Candy was brought to the War Council not by inexperienced people with no knowledge of war, but from people seasoned by fire on the front lines of the Pop Bottle Wars. People who were even as old as 11 and one even held the rank of sergeant.
Now in the Toto Volunteers we had a little different ranking system than the regular army. Ours was more simple. I got to be the General, there were two sergeants, and everybody else got to be a private. That way we didn’t have to spend a lot of time trying to figure out who was in charge. Besides, we didn’t have different uniforms so it was a lot easier to just remember a few to salute, otherwise everybody would be saluting each other all day long for nothing.
The Halloween Options as they would become know to the Volunteers were quite simple, two different options. The first option being the Toto Volunteers go Trick or Treating the night before the real Halloween and then go again the next night, that way everybody gets twice as much stuff. The second option would be for the Volunteers to just charge everybody Trick or Treating in Toto, and not a member of the Volunteers, a nickel. It was just two weeks till Halloween and the council wanted to make a decision right there, but I told ‘em the decision was too important, it’d have to wait for a while. I had to think this one out.
One of the things I learned by being the General of the Toto Volunteers was when I didn’t know what to do, I could always ask my dad. I’d act like I was just a little kid asking a dumb question, not like the general seeking consultation on an issue of possible war. When I talked to my dad about such important matters we usually done our man to boy talks on the porch swing, even in late October man to boy talks worked better in the swing.
As we sat swinging I said “Did ya ever go trick or treating?” My dad said “Yep” “Did ya ever go trick or treating the day before Halloween?” My dad said “Nope” I said “why not?” My dad said “Did ya ever have a birthday party a day before your birthday? Could ya have the 4th of July Picnic the day before? What would happen to Christmas if ya didn’t have the 25th of December, not the 24th but the 25th?” I was starting to see my dad’s point of view on this issue of trick or treating one day early as we swung together on the front porch in the crisp autumn air just nine days before Halloween.
I said “Ya think a person could make somebody pay to go trick or treating” My dad said “Not in Toto, cause everybody that tricks or treats in Toto don’t have any money to start with, and besides who would be dumb enough to even try to get somebody to pay to go trick or treating?” I didn’t say nothing. One of the good things about talking with my dad in that swing was he didn’t make me say anything if I didn’t want to, and right then I didn’t want to.
So there is was. Ya can’t go the night before ‘cause that’s dumb, and nobody’s got any money and if ya even ask someone to pay that’s dumb too. My dad imparted a great deal of wisdom from the confines of that swing. He made my job of generaling a lot easier on more than one occasion.
Well, I had my answers now I only had to deal with the Toto Volunteers. I spent most of that night trying to figure out a way to get the War Council on my side. I knew what I had to do but wanted the them to tell me, not me tell them. Somewhere in the darkness, about the time today turned into tomorrow and became yesterday I finally figured a way to present my views to the Council. The next day I called an after school meeting of the War Council of the Toto Volunteers. We met on my front porch.
Now one of the downside products of victory on the battle field is the overwhelming desire to repeat the same feat over and over again. I was not about to let that happen to the Toto Volunteers. As soon as everybody was present I presented my plan. The plan was simple. I couldn’t choose which one I liked best so we would do ‘em both.
But for the trick or treat the night before Halloween we’d all have to have get our moms to sign a letter saying we could go out after dark just in case someone wanted to know why we were there at their house a night early for trick or treat, so we could tell ‘em our moms said we could come trick or treating early. Also everyone had to ask their mom if she thought it would be ok to charge people for trick or treating in Toto.
I had printed out a letter to give every member. Because I ran the mimeograph machine at California Township School I ran off copies of the letter. I had printed it on a stencil and it looked really professional. As the volunteers read the letter, ya could still smell the mimeograph ink, it was blue kind. I could tell by their looks that they were gona have a hard time getting their mom to sign that letter. I know I sure would not ask my mom to sign that letter.
One kid said “my mom will kill me if she sees this letter, I’m not gona take it home”. He brought his letter back and reached it to me saying “let’s just go regular trick or treating”. Some of the others thought we could still do both options. My faith was in the letter.
The next morning at the bus stop not a single volunteer who took the letter home wanted to talk about it. One guy said “I might not even want to go trick or treating this year, I don’t know if I do or not. I’ll just have to wait till Halloween an see”. The plan was working. Two days later the War Council of the Toto Volunteers made a decision to do regular trick or treating in Toto and to make sure nobody would ever do anything except regular trick or treating in Toto forever in the future.
We, the Toto Volunteers, took a solemn oath to forever protect the unbridled right to trick or treat in Toto Indiana on Halloween without interference from anybody forever and ever. That right to trick or treat in Toto has been protected to this day.
And then came the politicians, regulations trick or treat hours. I think it was a republican thing first, probably too damn tight to buy candy for little kids. Then the democrats jumped on the band wagon, probably with a bribe of some sort from the republicans. A pox on both their houses, to even think ya can regulate Halloween.
Next thing ya gona hear is some smart ass in Washington will propose to make Halloween a federal holiday and place on the last Monday in October, in order to bring it in line with the other fake Monday Federal Holidays. It wouldn’t surprise me if Obama tries to move Easter to the day after. Easter Monday does not have a good sound to it, but one less work day for the democrats.
Now towns announce the time to go trick or treating. Trick or treating at 3:00PM is like kissing your sister at high noon in public park, it’s just not that much fun. The question that comes to mind is what ya gona do if some little monster tricks or treats before or after the set deadlines?
Now if ya shoot ‘em all ya get the guilty. I think we need a Halloween Czar. Hey Sophia!!!
As the fall season really kicks in on this last Sunday in October, we have enjoyed you company as usual this Evening.
Stay safe in South Baghdad, South Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing Trick or Treating with the Toto Volunteers
I wish you well,
BobbyRay
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