A post for me

I was on vacation yesterday and I went to the cemetery to visit my grandson. A couple of plots over a young woman was sitting on a blanket beside a fairly recent grave. She was crying gently. 

I cleaned up some twigs and leaves around my grandson’s place and had a short one-sided conversation with him and said a little prayer. 

As I turned to leave I felt the need to acknowledge the woman’s grief. It was clear the grave was someone close, a husband, a child. I did not want to intrude but I was compelled. “Ma’am,” I said, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. I see yours was only one day old.  My little girl only lived three days.” My heart broke. 

I wanted to tell her the pain would never go away but in time scar tissue would form on her broken heart. It wasn’t my place, besides I never lost a child, how can I know? Instead I told her “He was my grandson.Again, I’m really sorry.”  I left her to her to spend her private time with her baby. 

As I climbed in the car I wish I had asked her little girl’s name. Too often we overlook infant death as if they weren’t real persons. I should have acknowledged the baby. Told her mom she chose a beautiful name. 

The next time I go visit Sawyer, I will stop by the new grave and say hello to the baby girl lost too soon and call her by name. 

Cloudy with a chance of boredom

 It is weird. It is above 80F outside, but the sky is overcast and there is a definite feel of fall in the air. I guess it is because for weeks it has been hot and humid and the change seems more drastic than it really is. Yet in another month we just might pine for weather like today. 

I wish I had something of more interest to entertain you. I don’t. 

Soporific Monday

My weekend was fine and uneventful. The weather is typical August. Work is spreadsheets and conversations with customers. My sports teams are participating. In politics the usual suspects are in outrage over Trump because Trump, and the sycophants on the other side support anything because Trump. I am rapidly falling into the “I don’t care” faction. 

I bought some new battery operated pruning shears that might be the best tool I ever purchased. I naught the Chinese knock/off, so we shall see how long they last, but after one use I’m pleased. If they fall apart I’ll spend the bucks for the good DeWalt version. 

Really, it should be obvious I have nothing yet again today. 

Hippy Music Saturday

 

A rather benign hippy song. Groovy, Man.

What?

 

So I was at my local drug emporium picking up yet another of my plethora of medications. 

As is my wont, I wandered the aisles looking at “stuff”. You never know what you will find there. I once grabbed a nifty folding beach table for like five bucks. Often, we can get stuff deeply discounted based on the foot long receipt coupons. 

In my “window shopping”, I ran across this grill. It appears to be made out of heavy cardboard ( or maybe pressed sawdust). In any case it is certainly one-time use. More importantly, how do you keep the whole thing from cooking right along with your burger, grates and all? 

Somehow I doubt this was a winner on Shark Tank. But then it may work great. I’m skeptical by nature.

My Very Excellent Mother

 I don’t care what the experts say, for me,  Pluto will always be the ninth planet. 

Musical interlude

 

With modest success on the British charts, The Pretty Things never hit it big in the States. Perhaps they were too much like the Stones?

Reserved to the States or the People

I am a little disturbed over the Federal takeover of policing the nation’s capitol. It is of course Federal land, so I can see it. I’m a little uneasy using National Guardsmen as police. It is one thing to protect Federal buildings from rioters. It is another to see a guardsman on every corner. And when the president threatens the same for other cities with a high crime rate, I have a serious issue. 

Many of you think Trump can do no wrong, and if makes things better, it is worth it. 

You should have spent a little more time in history class.

 If this opinion makes you think I’ve become a squishy liberal, you better spend some time in the archives. 

Listen to the music

Music has always been my refuge. The Amazon spy machine is playing tunes as I hunt and peck this post on my tiny iPhone keyboard. My tastes are eclectic by any standard. If you were to look at my music library you find a wide range of tunes.

There is a world where Hank Williams, the Bee Gees, and the Talking Heads, Sinatra and Yes, Marty Robbins, Tommy Dorsey,  and Led Zeppelin all co- exist. It is in my music library. 

I listen to music when I am happy, when I am sad, when I’m bored and often just as background noise. I play music quietly at night as I drift to sleep. As a teen I would lay between the speakers and let the sound wash over me, often getting lost in the music, at least until I had to get up and turn over the album. 

I love almost every kind of music. Except the Steve Miller Band. 

Man, I hate that shit. 

Let’s all sing the chorus

It’s a catchy tune. My kids all learned the words since it was a bathtub sing-a-long favorite. 

I was a strange parent. 

Now you sit here on a cloudy afternoon

 

No hippy music today. We need some classic midwestern rock and roll. 

You will listen. You will like it. 

How you know groceries are expensive

I’m not surprised to see a Ferrari here in Mudsock. 

I am surprised to see one in the Walmart parking lot. 

Unsung hero

 David Allen was an ordinary man of his times. His life was extraordinary by our standards. Born in Clinton County Indiana on March 15, 1843, Allen was 18 when he enlisted in the 10th Indiana Infantry at the beginning of The Civil War. He served through the three-month call-up and then reenlisted for the duration in the same regiment.

Allen served as an aide-de camp to Generals Steadman, Scoefield, and Brannon. He was severely wounded at Chickamauga as a second lieutenant of Company C, 10th Indiana.

The next 30 years saw Allen succeed in business; he helped found a bank and a railroad. He dabbled in politics. When the War with Spain loomed he began organizing the men of Clinton County. They formed a militia and then got themselves assigned to the 2nd Regiment, Indiana National Guard. When the telegram was sent from President McKinley calling out the National Guard, Allen was ready; his men jumped aboard the Monon train to Indianapolis by 6:00 am, arriving at Camp Morton (the current State Fairgrounds) before anyone else. The men climbed the fence and were setting up their tents when the Colonel of the 2nd, Harry Smith, arrived. The Unit was mustered into US service as the 158th Indiana Volunteer Regiment. Allen was named captain of Company C. The troops were sent to Camp Thomas at Chickamauga. The 158th were slated for the invasion of Puerto Rico, but scrubbed at the last minute. The troops mustered out and went home when the Spanish surrendered. 

Less than a year later, as the Philippine Insurrection continued, Allen led 200 men from his native county to Jefferson Barracks in St. Louis. There he was told that the long-standing practice of forming regiments and companies from geographical areas was being abandoned. Allen was livid, he made a nuisance of himself until a company of his contingent was mustered as Company I 38th US Volunteers. This was the last time a company would be formed from local men. Those from AllenÂ’s group of more than 200 men enlisted in other regiments or companies. Many were sent to China to quell the Boxer Rebellion.

Allen and the 38th Infantry saw significant action in the Philippines. They fought several actions around Batangas Province, and battled insurgents  and guerrillas. Allen and the rest returned in 1901. Major Allen died in 1911, a veteran of three wars. David F. Allen of Frankfort, Clinton County, Indiana was a true hero.

My great-grandfather, whose portrait in his Span Am uniform graces the wall of my office, was one of the men who traveled with Allen to St. Louis and served in Company I, 38th United States Volunteer Infantry.

Another rerun from August 2005

Public Service Announcement

DEER TICK WARNING

I hate it when people post bogus warnings ... but this one is real, and it's important. 

If someone comes to your front door saying they are conducting a survey on deer ticks and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, DO NOT DO IT!! 

IT IS A SCAM; they only want to see you naked. I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid now.

Yet another from August of 2005

I’m not superstitious

 There are certain rules we all should adhere to: left sock, left shoe, then right sock, right shoe for instance. Only a fool wears stripes on the day of a test. 

It is just common sense and an understanding of what is right and proper.

What is the problem?

 In the many internet lists of shocking things kids did growing up in the 1960’s or 1970’s, one thing always gets listed: drinking from the water hose. 

Where I grew up and where I live now the water in my hose is the same as comes out my tap. I fail to understand the issue. 

I guess it’s because I drank from the hose more times than I could count as a kid. 

Back to School

 A man and a woman were driving down the road, arguing about his deplorable infidelity when suddenly the woman reached over and sliced the man's penis off. Angrily, she tossed it out of the car window.

Driving behind the couple was a man along with his 6-year-old daughter. The little girl was chatting away at her father when all of a sudden the penis smacked their car windshield, stuck for a moment, then flew off.

Surprised, the daughter asked her father, "Daddy, what the heck was that?"

Shocked, but not wanting to expose his little girl to anything sexual at such a young age, the father replied, "It...it was only a bug, Honey."

The daughter sat with a confused look on her face, and after a moment she said... "Sure had a big dick, didn't it?"

Yet another one from August of 2005. I clearly published a lot of jokes back then

Hippy Music Saturday

 

I must be offended by something

 Let me see if I have this correct, any talk about jeans as a play on words for “genes”, is a reference to Nazis and eugenics. 

We should boycott snd cancel American Eagle.

Ok, one of the leading proponents of eugenics was Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood. 

Let’s cancel the baby killing machine…