Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas !!
- GrandPa Chuck

Looking at the Camera

When you look at the camera, say for the "Family Reunion" photo, or the holiday snap from Aunt Rose, or just an interview by the national press because of something that you are involved in... whatever it is...

Once you look at the camera, don't look at the camera.
Instead look THROUGH the camera, and see all the other people who are looking at you. They are looking at you Now, They are looking at you a week from Now, They are looking at you 40 or 50 years from Now. They are your friends, your relatives, your spouse(s), your enemies, and a lot of no-body's and some-body's. All those people are looking at you. So Smile at them like you know something that They Don't.
You know... You KNOW that they are looking at you.
So Smile that little smile.
- GrandPa Chuck

North Daklota humor? or just us Peterkas?

You may remember Marilyn [Peterka] Schmitz.
She was one of my older cousins.
She died out in Colorado, where Joanne [ My Sister ] and her hubby live.
Anyway, Marilyn was 79, and was totally aware to the end. She had the family in the ICU on her last day and looked around the room, looked everyone in the eye as she scanned the room, and then said,
"So, what's everyone gonna be on Halloween ?"

They all hemmed and hawed and talked about the various projects and 'family events', etc and that they hadn't really had time to think of it.
Then Marilyn put both her arms up in the air and said,
"I'm gonna be a Ghost!"
..
Wow, us North Dakotans are a bunch of demented folks.
Funny, ... hell yes... It really happened.
Got the news from Joanne.

What went down last week...
It all started on Tuesday morning, finished up on Saturday around 1:00 PM.

and I was back at work on Monday.

====

Yea... I got ambushed big time.

Around 8:25 AM on Tuesday

On Tuesday morning I was going through my Emails and had just gotten one ready to go out when my vision became blurry.
Instantaneously.

No other symptoms... No headache, no other pains, no dizziness, no nothing... Just blurry vision
that settled quickly to effect the Upper Left area of my vision field, both right eye and left eye.

I though it was,
A. Greasy Glasses ?? ... so I cleaned them, but the blur remained.

B. Detached Retina ?? ... but when I leaned my head back, the blur remained...
[ Yea... even then I knew I would need about a 5 G turn to pop it back in place, but figured I might get lucky.]

C. Then I did some more troubleshooting: Left Eye Closed... Still Blurry,
Right Eye Closed... Still Blurry,
Poop... that means it's not the Eyes... but the Optical Processing Unit... aka in the Brain.


So I estimated where the "Send" button was and got the email off, then did a
CTRL-ALT-DEL, and I could see on the extreme right, so I found the drop down menu and choose
blah-blah-blah-n [ as in shutdown ] that ends in an "N" on that menu, and hit enter.
It shut down.

I then locked up my desk, grabbed my keys, and went down two cubes to Pat Ellis' cube.

"Hi Pat. You busy right now?"

"Naw... what's up?"

"My vision is messed up, can you take me to the ER at Paoli Hospital?"

"Sure"

So we wandered out to the parking lot, transferred the soda's and paper plates for our DBA picnic to his car,
and he drove me to Paoli in his car, and dropped me off at the ER.

Two Cat scans, 5 days, One MRI and various DR's and Pills and pokes and prodding and being stuck with needles and Stuff later...
I was finally able to leave the hospital on Saturday afternoon.

It was a small leak in the lower right area of the brain that does optical processing,
so , since the eyes are upside down and backwards, it was the Upper Left area of my vision that was out of commission.

Around 2:00 or 3:00 PM my vision came back on Tuesday, so it was only out for about 6 hours,
but they kept me through Saturday for tests, Blood Pressure adjustments, and Cat Scan's,
an MRI, and lot's of blood tests... with REAL Blood !

I finally got released Today ( Saturday ) around 1:00 PM and will be back in on Monday for work.

I can't drive for a week, just a precaution, so we'll miss a friends wedding up in Jersey cause the 2+ hours of driving up there,
and then when we're tired, after the wedding, Nancy would have to drive back again by herself, with me as a passenger..

I really, really wanted to go to the wedding, but.... Stuff Happens.
- Forest Gump.

History.... Real History

Another story from history.
From MudFlats
http://www.themudflats.net/2009/08/21/nazis/

On my 21st birthday, I woke up in the morning and drove to Dairy Queen. I got soft serve vanilla ice cream with strawberry topping and I ate it for breakfast. Why? When I was a child I asked once if I could have ice cream for breakfast, and my mother said, “You can have ice cream for breakfast when you’re 21.” And so I did.

My father spent his 21st birthday in a prisoner of war camp. Deaf in one ear, and completely flat-footed, he could have easily been a “4-F” and escaped service for medical reasons. He was a peaceful man but he, like so many of his generation, felt the need to serve his country, and to fight againgst the fascism that was threatening to engulf the democratic nations of Western Europe, and had even attacked the United States.

When he was 20 years old, he’d been taken prisoner by the Germans at the Battle of the Bulge, was marched for miles, imprisoned, and starved. Like many men of his generation, veterans of World War II, he didn’t talk about it much. He held his memories close to his chest. If he talked to anyone about them, I didn’t know. It was only many years after his service and just before his death that he shared some of those memories with me.

Starvation does strange things to people. He told me that after a while in the camp, he had the same recurring dream, every night – a stack of pancakes topped with two fried eggs, sunny-side up. He’d dream that dream over and over, a still frame, a picture of a breakfast that never came. He told me that his fellow prisoners got so hungry that once they had killed and eaten a cat that had strayed into the camp. You don’t forget a story like that.

Or the story of the man in the camp, who snapped. In peace time, we’d have called him a boy. Suddenly and without warning in the middle of the day, out in the yard, his mind went. He ran for the fence in a desperate effort to escape. There was nowhere to go, and in broad daylight with armed guards everywhere, he didn’t stand a chance. My father, who was quick to pick up languages, had learned some German. “Don’t shoot! He’s crazy! He’s lost his mind! He doesn’t know what he’s doing!” my father called out to the guards as he ran out in the yard waving his arms. The man kept running for the fence, and he climbed, and the guards didn’t shoot. They waited until he reached the top. And then they shot him. They left him there for three days as a warning to anyone else who might have been thinking about escape.

Any survivor of World War II has stories. Millions were never able to tell them. Their lives ended on battlefields, and in gas chambers, at the hands of the Nazis. My dad was able to tell me some of his experiences, but most of those memories died with him, like they died with many vets and victims of the war. I didn’t even know he’d received a Purple Heart until after his death. But he survived. He survived to marry the girl he left at home, to buy a house, to get a college degree, to start his own company, and to raise a family of five children.

I asked my dad if he ever got his stack of pancakes with the fried eggs on top. I imagined it being his first meal after the Russians had liberated the camp. The Germans had heard that the Russians were coming, and they left quickly in the night. The prisoners hadn’t known what was happening until two days later when the Russian army came and let them out, confused and near death. No, he told me, he never did have the pancakes and eggs. It took months in the hospital to build his system back up to where he could eat normally. He began at 5′11″ weighing less than 100 pounds, and started with an IV, then a liquid diet, then cream of wheat, and finally solids. A fellow prisoner, he said, on his way from the camp to the hospital in France had managed to get a hold of a box of donuts and had gorged himself. He died a free man, but still a victim. By the time my dad was able to eat that stack of pancakes and eggs, the desire had passed.

I remember as a child I was not allowed to watch Hogan’s Heroes. It wasn’t a joke in my house. There was nothing funny about prisoner of war camps. There were no handsome well-fed prisoners with secret tunnels under their bunks, and pirate radio equipment who always managed to play their captors for the fool. There were frightened, emaciated young men whose minds and bodies were broken an ocean away from home, who were shot on fences , and who ate cats, and watched their friends die. There was nothing to laugh about. Those were Nazis.

I am tired of people comparing Obama to Hitler. I am tired of seeing signs with swastikas and nazi symbols at health care rallies. I am tired of people saying that a health care plan designed to uplift millions of Americans to give them dignity, and choice and the ability to care for their families, is like Naziism. I am tired of Rush Limbaugh.

As time passes, and as the greatest generation becomes a memory, passing into history one soul at a time, it is up to the generations that follow them to keep “Hitler” and “Nazi” out of the clutches of those who would make them political buzzwords for people they don’t like, or policies they don’t understand. Those words remind us of the worst that people can be. There is nothing horrible about Germans in particular that caused them to do these things. This is humanity’s dark potential, and something that we all need to remember, whether we were there or not, or whether our family was affected or not, because this is what people can do to each other. To strip those words of their power and meaning in order to create political fear for self-gain is inexcusable and needs to be confronted and refuted whenever it arises, by all of us, whether we support the current health care bill and the current president or not.

On Jack and Maggie...

A progress report on Jack and Maggie.

OMG... Maggie is crawling like a GI under the barbed wire. Awesome for 7 Months !

Jack can run an IPhone like it was an extention of his hands. Pick the app, run the camera, save the photos, put them into the Harry Potter application, view photo's, bring up YouTube video's of the "Bear Necessities"... and on and on. Not bad for 2 1/2 !!! Such Awesome Kids. Love ya !!

-GrandPa Chuck

The Toughest Jobs

A story about war. Not all stories are about 'taking the hill', or saving lives or the nation. There are many jobs, done by many people, during a war. There are many, many jobs that are tougher, with no glory, but must be done. This is one of the tougher jobs.

===========

Tough duty then, as it is now.

"Burial at Sea" by LtCol George Goodson, USMC (Ret)

In my 76th year, the events of my life appear to me, from time to time, as a series of vignettes. Some were significant; most were trivial.

War is the seminal event in the life of everyone that has endured it. Though I fought in Korea and the Dominican Republic and was wounded there, Vietnam was my war.

Now 37 years have passed and, thankfully, I rarely think of those days in Cambodia, Laos, and the panhandle of North Vietnam where small teams of Americans and Montangards fought much larger elements of the North Vietnamese Army. Instead I see vignettes: some exotic, some mundane:

*The smell of Nuc Mam.

*The heat, dust, and humidity.

*The blue exhaust of cycles clogging the streets.

*Elephants moving silently through the tall grass.

*Hard eyes behind the servile smiles of the villagers.

*Standing on a mountain in Laos and hearing a tiger roar.

*A young girl squeezing my hand as my medic delivered her baby.

*The flowing Ao Dais of the young women biking down Tran Hung Dao.

*My two years as Casualty Notification Officer in North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland.

It was late 1967. I had just returned after 18 months in Vietnam. Casualties were increasing. I moved my family from Indianapolis to Norfolk, rented a house, enrolled my children in their fifth or sixth new school, and bought a second car.

A week later, I put on my uniform and drove 10 miles to Little Creek, Virginia. I hesitated before entering my new office. Appearance is important to career Marines. I was no longer, if ever, a poster Marine. I had returned from my third tour in Vietnam only 30 days before. At 5'9", I now weighed 128 pounds - 37 pounds below my normal weight. My uniforms fit ludicrously, my skin was yellow from malaria medication, and I think I had a twitch or two.

I straightened my shoulders, walked into the office, looked at the nameplate on a Staff Sergeant's desk and said, "Sergeant Jolly, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Goodson. Here are my orders and my Qualification Jacket."

Sergeant Jolly stood, looked carefully at me, took my orders, stuck out his hand; we shook and he asked, "How long were you there, Colonel?" I replied "18 months this time." Jolly breathed, "Jesus, you must be a slow learner Colonel." I smiled.

Jolly said, "Colonel, I'll show you to your office and bring in the Sergeant Major. I said, "No, let's just go straight to his office." Jolly nodded, hesitated, and lowered his voice, "Colonel, the Sergeant Major. He's been in this Godd@mn job two years. He's packed pretty tight. I'm worried about him." I nodded.

Jolly escorted me into the Sergeant Major's office. "Sergeant Major, this is Colonel Goodson, the new Commanding Office. The Sergeant Major stood, extended his ha nd and said, "Good to see you again, Colonel." I responded, "Hello Walt, how are you?" Jolly looked at me, raised an eyebrow, walked out, and closed the door.

I sat down with the Sergeant Major. We had the obligatory cup of coffee and talked about mutual acquaintances. Walt's stress was palpable. Finally, I said, "Walt, what's the hell's wrong?" He turned his chair, looked out the window and said, "George, you're going to wish you were back in Nam before you leave here. I've been in the Marine Corps since 1939. I was in the Pacific 36 months, Korea for 14 months, and Vietnam for 12 months. Now I come here to bury these kids. I'm putting my letter in. I can't take it anymore." I said, "OK Walt. If that's what you want, I'll endorse your request for retirement and do what I can to push it through Headquarters Marine Corps."

Sergeant Major Walt Xxxxx retired 12 weeks later. He had been a good Marine for 28 years, but he had seen too much death and too much suffering. He was used up.

Over the next 16 months, I made 28 death notifications, conducted 28 military funerals, and made 30 notifications to the families of Marines that were severely wounded or missing in action. Most of the details of those casualty notifications have now, thankfully, faded from memory.

Four, however, remain.

MY FIRST NOTIFICATION

My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters 20 Marine Corps. The information detailed:

*Name, rank, and serial number.

*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.

*Date of and limited details about the Marine's death.

*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.

*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.

The boy's family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina, I stopped at a small country store / service station / Post Office. I went in to ask directions.

Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Storeowner walked up and addressed them by name, "Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper." I was stunned. My casualty's next-of-kin's name was John Cooper!

I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, "I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Copper of (address.)

The father looked at me-I was in uniform - and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion. I think I caught her before she hit the floor.

The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The storeowner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving.

I returned the storeowner to his business. He thanked me and said, "Mister, I wouldn't have your job for a million dollars." I shook his hand and said; "Neither would I."

I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone.

My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification.

THE FUNERALS

Weeks passed with more notifications and more funerals.. I borrowed Marines from the local Marine Corps Reserve and taught them to conduct a military funeral: how to carry a casket, how to fire the volleys and how to fold the flag.

When I presented the flag to the mother, wife, or father, I always said, "All Marines share in your grief." I had been instructed to say, "On behalf of a grateful nation." I didn't think the nation was grateful, so I didn't say that.

Sometimes, my emotions got the best of me and I couldn't speak. When that happened, I just handed them the flag and touched a shoulder. They would look at me and nod. Once a mother said to me, "I'm so sorry you have this terrible job." My eyes filled with tears and I leaned over and kissed her.

ANOTHER NOTIFICATION

Six weeks after my first notification, I had another. This was a young PFC. I drove to his mother's house. As always, I was in uniform and driving a Marine Corps staff car. I parked in front of the house, took a deep breath, and walked towards the house. Suddenly the door flew open, a middle-aged woman rushed out. She looked at me and ran across the yard, screaming "NO! NO! NO! NO!"

I hesitated. Neighbors came out. I ran to her, grabbed her, and whispered stupid things to reassure her. She collapsed. I picked her up and carried her into the house. Eight or nine neighbors followed. Ten or fifteen later, the father came in followed by ambulance personnel. I have no recollection of leaving.

The funeral took place about two weeks later. We went through the drill. The mother never looked at me. The father looked at me once and shook his head sadly.

ANOTHER NOTIFICATION

One morning, as I walked in the office, the phone was ringing. Sergeant Jolly held the phone up and said, "You've got another one, Colonel." I nodded, walked into my office, picked up the phone, took notes, thanked the officer making the call, I have no idea why, and hung up. Jolly, who had listened, came in with a special Telephone Directory that translates telephone numbers into the person's address and place of employment.

The father of this casualty was a Longshoreman. He lived a mile from my office. I called the Longshoreman's Union Office and asked for the Business Manager. He answered the phone, I told him who I was, and asked for the father's schedule.

The Business Manager asked, "Is it his son?" I said nothing. After a moment, he said, in a low voice, "Tom is at home today." I said, "Don't call him. I'll take care of that." The Business Manager said, "Aye, Aye Sir," and then explained, "Tom and I were Marines in WWII."

I got in my staff car and drove to the house. I was in uniform. I knocked and a woman in her early forties answered the door. I saw instantly that she was clueless. I asked, "Is Mr. Smith home?" She smiled pleasantly and responded, "Yes, but he's eating breakfast now. Can you come back later?" I said, "I'm sorry. It's important, I need to see him now."

She nodded, stepped back into the beach house and said, "Tom, it's for you."

A moment later, a ruddy man in his late forties, appeared at the door. He looked at me, turned absolutely pale, steadied himself, and said, "Jesus Christ man, he's only been there three weeks!"

Months passed. More notifications and more funerals. Then one day while I was running, Sergeant Jolly stepped outside the building and gave a loud whistle, two fingers in his mouth.... I never could do that... and held an imaginary phone to his ear.

Another call from Headquarters Marine Corps. I took notes, said, "Got it." and hung up. I had stopped saying "Thank You" long ago.

Jolly, "Where?"

Me, "Eastern Shore of Maryland. The father is a retired Chief Petty Officer. His brother will accompany the body back from Vietnam."

Jolly shook his head slowly, straightened, and then said, "This time of day, it'll take three hours to get there and back. I'll call the Naval Air Station and borrow a helicopter. And I'll have Captain Tolliver get one of his men to meet you and drive you to the Chief's home."

He did, and 40 minutes later, I was knocking on the father's door. He opened the door, looked at me, then looked at the Marine standing at parade rest beside the car, and asked, "Which one of my boys was it, Colonel?"

I stayed a couple of hours, gave him all the information, my office and home phone number and told him to call me, anytime.

He called me that evening about 2300 (11:00PM). "I've gone through my boy's papers and found his will. He asked to be buried at sea. Can you make that happen?" I said, "Yes I can, Chief. I can and I will."

My wife who had been listening said, "Can you do that?" I told her, "I have no idea. But I'm going to break my ass trying."

I called Lieutenant General Alpha Bowser, Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, at home about 2330, explained the situation, and asked, "General, can you get me a quick appointment with the Admiral at Atlantic Fleet Headquarters?" General Bowser said," George, you be there tomorrow at 0900. He will see you.

I was and the Admiral did. He said coldly, "How can the Navy help the Marine Corps, Colonel." I told him20the story. He turned to his Chief of Staff and said, "Which is the sharpest destroyer in port?" The Chief of Staff responded with a name.

The Admiral called the ship, "Captain, you're going to do a burial at sea. You'll report to a Marine Lieutenant Colonel Goodson until this mission is completed."

He hung up, looked at me, and said, "The next time you need a ship, Colonel, call me. You don't have to sic Al Bowser on my ass." I responded, "Aye Aye, Sir" and got the hell out of his office.

I went to the ship and met with the Captain, Executive Officer, and the Senior Chief. Sergeant Jolly and I trained the ship's crew for four days. Then Jolly raised a question none of us had thought of. He said, "These government caskets are air tight. How do we keep it from floating?"

All the high priced help including me sat there looking dumb. Then the Senior Chief stood and said, "Come on Jolly. I know a bar where the retired guys from World War II hang out."

They returned a couple of hours later, slightly the worst for wear, and said, "It's simple; we cut four 12" holes in the outer shell of the casket on each side and insert 300 lbs of lead in the foot end of the casket. We can handle that, no sweat."

The day arrived. The ship and the sailors looked razor sharp. General Bowser, the Admiral, a US Senator, and a Navy Band were on board. The sealed casket was brought aboard and taken below for modification. The ship got underway to the 12-fathom depth.

The sun was hot. The ocean flat. The casket was brought aft and placed on a catafalque. The Chaplin spoke. The volleys were fired. The flag was removed, folded, and I gave it to the father. The band played "Eternal Father Strong to Save." The casket was raised slightly at the head and it slid into the sea.

The heavy casket plunged straight down about six feet. The incoming water collided with the air pockets in the outer shell. The casket stopped abruptly, rose straight out of the water about three feet, stopped, and slowly slipped back into the sea. The air bubbles rising from the sinking casket sparkled in the in the sunlight as the casket disappeared from sight forever.

The next morning I called a personal friend, Lieutenant General Oscar Peatross, at Headquarters Marine Corps and said, "General, get me the f*ck out of here. I can't take this sh_t anymore." I was transferred two weeks later.

I was a good Marine but, after 17 years, I had seen too much death and too much suffering. I was used up.

Vacating the house, my family and I drove to the office in a two-car convoy. I said my goodbyes. Sergeant Jolly walked out with me. He waved at my family, looked at me with tears in his eyes, came to attention, saluted, and said, "Well Done, Colonel. Well Done."

I felt as if I had received the Medal of Honor!

=====================================

God bless you, Colonel !!

Maggie and Jack

Sorry for the big break... busy with life and living and watching Maggie and Jack grow up and gain capabilities. Two AWESOME Kids !
Awesome, Full of Awe !!
Jack is looking more and more not like a baby, but more like a growing boy! Got that "Dennis the Menace" appearance.
Maggie is becoming more and more aware of her surroundings and when you hold her, she LOOKS at you, and LOOKS at you, and SMILES !! What an aware human she is becoming.
Oh, and for when the kids get much older, here's one of my favorite authors and scientists at an awards ceremony in 1989. [ Yes, there was life before 2000 ]


Isaac Asimov on Global Warming
from a speech in 1989.

Part 1 in high format
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO0sCs8jI4k&fmt=18

Part 2 in high format
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpHPQCnHHl4&fmt=18


Love ya,
GrandPa Chuck

Dash and Time

which leads me to something a Gold Star mom recently shared with me:

"There'll be two dates on your tombstone
And all your friends will read 'em
But all that's gonna matter is that little dash between 'em..."

Norwegian Traditions

Baby Kittens that really kick butt. see http://tinyurl.com/fxom

Stocks, Bonds, Nice Guys and loss

Once I bought 101,000 shares of a nice company, run by nice guys and gals, and they had a nice product that made people's lives nicer and was good for Mother Nature.
Then some ( dare I say it..?? ) asshats ( I don't dare. ) came along and took their big bucks and forced it into bankruptcy and it went away.

Oh well, we all learned something special.
I learned about some nice people and it only cost me $20,000 or so.
Well worth the price.

Why did it have to be Orcs?

-- There are two novels that can change a bookish fourteen-year old's life: The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with its unbelievable heroes, leading to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, unable to deal with the real world. The other, of course, involves orcs.

courtesy of http://kfmonkey.blogspot.com/2009/03/ephemera-2009-7.html

E.T. Phone Me

John Wayne

The final movie that John Wayne did had to do with an ageing gunfighter who was dying of cancer. John Wayne was also dying of cancer at the time.

He stars alongside Lauren Bacall who plays a widow who rents rooms in her house, and Ron Howard as her son and Jimmy Stewart as the town doctor. John just wants to pass away his last few months and die, but when news breaks out that the legendary gunfigher, J.B. Books (Wayne) is in town everyone is iching to be the one who guns him down and become a legend as the person who killed J.B. Books.

Things change as it is discovered by the public that he has cancer and then Ron Howard learns how cruel people can be.


So, one day early in the film, John Wayne is walking along and talking to Ron Howard and talking about Life and some of the rules of civilization and the rules of interactions amongst people.

He says,

"I won't be wronged, I won't be lied to, I won't be laid a hand on."
And then more importantly he said,
"I do this for others and I require the same for myself."

TIME for Everyone

To all my family & friends I want to say,
THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

ONCE YOU READ THIS, YOU'LL UNDERSTAND.

A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, 'Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday.' Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

'Jack, did you hear me?'

'Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago,' Jack said.

'Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over "his side of the fence" as he put it,' Mom told him.

'I loved that old house he lived in.' , Jack said.

You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stopped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life.' she said.

'He's the one who taught me carpentry,' he said. 'I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral,' Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.

'What's wrong, Jack?' his Mom asked.

'The box is gone,' he said

'What box?' Mom asked.

'There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'' Jack said. It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

'Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him,' Jack said. 'I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom.'

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. 'Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days,' the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. 'Mr. Harold Belser' it read.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

'Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life.' A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
'Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser.'

'The thing he valued most was...my time'

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days.

'Why?' Janet, his assistant asked.

'I need some time to spend with my son,' he said.

'Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!'

'Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away ,'

Think about this.
You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.

1. At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.

2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

3 A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

4. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

5. You mean the world to someone.

6. If not for you, someone may not be living.

7. You are special and unique.

8. When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you trust God to do what's best, and wait on His time, sooner or later, you will get it or something better.

9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it.

10. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world.

11. Someone that you don't even know exists, loves you.

12. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

13 Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy

14. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.

Send this letter to all the people you care about, if you do so, you will certainly brighten someone's day and might change t heir perspective on life...for the better.

To everyone I send this to
Thanks for your time !

RIGHTS OF ALL BEINGS

In this very eloquent speech to the full Congress, President Lyndon B. Johnson used the phrase "we shall overcome," borrowed from African-American leaders struggling for equal rights.

The speech was made on March 15, 1965, a week after deadly racial violence erupted in Selma, Alabama, as African-Americans were attacked by police while preparing to march to Montgomery to protest voting rights discrimination.

Discrimination took the form of literacy, knowledge or character tests administered solely to African-Americans to keep them from registering to vote.

Civil rights leader Rev. Martin Luther King and over 500 supporters planned to march from Selma to Montgomery to register African-Americans to vote. The police violence that erupted resulted in the death of a King supporter, a white Unitarian Minister from Boston named James J. Reeb.

A second attempt to march to Montgomery was also blocked by police. It took Federal intervention with the 'federalizing' of the Alabama national guard and the addition of over 2000 other guards to ensure protection and allow the march to begin.

On March 21, 1965 the march to Montgomery finally began with over 3000 participants, under the glare of worldwide news publicity.
========

I speak tonight for the dignity of man and the destiny of Democracy. I urge every member of both parties, Americans of all religions and of all colors, from every section of this country, to join me in that cause.

At times, history and fate meet at a single time in a single place to shape a turning point in man's unending search for freedom. So it was at Lexington and Concord. So it was a century ago at Appomattox. So it was last week in Selma, Alabama. There, long suffering men and women peacefully protested the denial of their rights as Americans. Many of them were brutally assaulted. One good man--a man of God--was killed.

There is no cause for pride in what has happened in Selma. There is no cause for self-satisfaction in the long denial of equal rights of millions of Americans. But there is cause for hope and for faith in our Democracy in what is happening here tonight. For the cries of pain and the hymns and protests of oppressed people have summoned into convocation all the majesty of this great government--the government of the greatest nation on earth. Our mission is at once the oldest and the most basic of this country--to right wrong, to do justice, to serve man. In our time we have come to live with the moments of great crises. Our lives have been marked with debate about great issues, issues of war and peace, issues of prosperity and depression.

But rarely in any time does an issue lay bare the secret heart of America itself. Rarely are we met with a challenge, not to our growth or abundance, or our welfare or our security, but rather to the values and the purposes and the meaning of our beloved nation. The issue of equal rights for American Negroes is such an issue. And should we defeat every enemy, and should we double our wealth and conquer the stars, and still be unequal to this issue, then we will have failed as a people and as a nation. For, with a country as with a person, "what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?"

There is no Negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem.

And we are met here tonight as Americans--not as Democrats or Republicans; we're met here as Americans to solve that problem. This was the first nation in the history of the world to be founded with a purpose.

The great phrases of that purpose still sound in every American heart, North and South: "All men are created equal." "Government by consent of the governed." "Give me liberty or give me death." And those are not just clever words, and those are not just empty theories. In their name Americans have fought and died for two centuries and tonight around the world they stand there as guardians of our liberty risking their lives. Those words are promised to every citizen that he shall share in the dignity of man. This dignity cannot be found in a man's possessions. It cannot be found in his power or in his position. It really rests on his right to be treated as a man equal in opportunity to all others. It says that he shall share in freedom. He shall choose his leaders, educate his children, provide for his family according to his ability and his merits as a human being.

To apply any other test, to deny a man his hopes because of his color or race or his religion or the place of his birth is not only to do injustice, it is to deny Americans and to dishonor the dead who gave their lives for American freedom. Our fathers believed that if this noble view of the rights of man was to flourish it must be rooted in democracy. This most basic right of all was the right to choose your own leaders. The history of this country in large measure is the history of expansion of the right to all of our people.

Many of the issues of civil rights are very complex and most difficult. But about this there can and should be no argument: every American citizen must have an equal right to vote. There is no reason which can excuse the denial of that right. There is no duty which weighs more heavily on us than the duty we have to insure that right. Yet the harsh fact is that in many places in this country men and women are kept from voting simply because they are Negroes.

Every device of which human ingenuity is capable, has been used to deny this right. The Negro citizen may go to register only to be told that the day is wrong, or the hour is late, or the official in charge is absent. And if he persists and, if he manages to present himself to the registrar, he may be disqualified because he did not spell out his middle name, or because he abbreviated a word on the application. And if he manages to fill out an application, he is given a test. The registrar is the sole judge of whether he passes this test. He may be asked to recite the entire Constitution, or explain the most complex provisions of state law.

And even a college degree cannot be used to prove that he can read and write. For the fact is that the only way to pass these barriers is to show a white skin. Experience has clearly shown that the existing process of law cannot overcome systematic and ingenious discrimination. No law that we now have on the books, and I have helped to put three of them there, can insure the right to vote when local officials are determined to deny it. In such a case, our duty must be clear to all of us. The Constitution says that no person shall be kept from voting because of his race or his color.

We have all sworn an oath before God to support and to defend that Constitution. We must now act in obedience to that oath. Wednesday, I will send to Congress a law designed to eliminate illegal barriers to the right to vote. The broad principles of that bill will be in the hands of the Democratic and Republican leaders tomorrow. After they have reviewed it, it will come here formally as a bill. I am grateful for this opportunity to come here tonight at the invitation of the leadership to reason with my friends, to give them my views and to visit with my former colleagues.

I have had prepared a more comprehensive analysis of the legislation which I had intended to transmit to the clerk tomorrow, but which I will submit to the clerks tonight. But I want to really discuss the main proposals of this legislation. This bill will strike down restrictions to voting in all elections, federal, state and local, which have been used to deny Negroes the right to vote.

This bill will establish a simple, uniform standard which cannot be used, however ingenious the effort, to flout our Constitution. It will provide for citizens to be registered by officials of the United States Government, if the state officials refuse to register them. It will eliminate tedious, unnecessary lawsuits which delay the right to vote. Finally, this legislation will insure that properly registered individuals are not prohibited from voting. I will welcome the suggestions from all the members of Congress--I have no doubt that I will get some--on ways and means to strengthen this law and to make it effective.

But experience has plainly shown that this is the only path to carry out the command of the Constitution. To those who seek to avoid action by their national government in their home communities, who want to and who seek to maintain purely local control over elections, the answer is simple: open your polling places to all your people. Allow men and women to register and vote whatever the color of their skin. Extend the rights of citizenship to every citizen of this land. There is no Constitutional issue here. The command of the Constitution is plain. There is no moral issue. It is wrong--deadly wrong--to deny any of your fellow Americans the right to vote in this country.

There is no issue of state's rights or national rights. There is only the struggle for human rights. I have not the slightest doubt what will be your answer. But the last time a President sent a civil rights bill to the Congress it contained a provision to protect voting rights in Federal elections. That civil rights bill was passed after eight long months of debate. And when that bill came to my desk from the Congress for signature, the heart of the voting provision had been eliminated.

This time, on this issue, there must be no delay, or no hesitation, or no compromise with our purpose. We cannot, we must not, refuse to protect the right of every American to vote in every election that he may desire to participate in.

And we ought not, and we cannot, and we must not wait another eight months before we get a bill. We have already waited 100 years and more and the time for waiting is gone. So I ask you to join me in working long hours and nights and weekends, if necessary, to pass this bill. And I don't make that request lightly, for, from the window where I sit, with the problems of our country, I recognize that from outside this chamber is the outraged conscience of a nation, the grave concern of many nations and the harsh judgment of history on our acts.

But even if we pass this bill the battle will not be over. What happened in Selma is part of a far larger movement which reaches into every section and state of America. It is the effort of American Negroes to secure for themselves the full blessings of American life. Their cause must be our cause too. Because it's not just Negroes, but really it's all of us, who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice.

And we shall overcome.

As a man whose roots go deeply into Southern soil, I know how agonizing racial feelings are. I know how difficult it is to reshape the attitudes and the structure of our society. But a century has passed--more than 100 years--since the Negro was freed. And he is not fully free tonight. It was more than 100 years ago that Abraham Lincoln--a great President of another party--signed the Emancipation Proclamation. But emancipation is a proclamation and not a fact.

A century has passed--more than 100 years--since equality was promised, and yet the Negro is not equal. A century has passed since the day of promise, and the promise is unkept. The time of justice has now come, and I tell you that I believe sincerely that no force can hold it back. It is right in the eyes of man and God that it should come, and when it does, I think that day will brighten the lives of every American. For Negroes are not the only victims. How many white children have gone uneducated? How many white families have lived in stark poverty? How many white lives have been scarred by fear, because we wasted energy and our substance to maintain the barriers of hatred and terror?

And so I say to all of you here and to all in the nation tonight that those who appeal to you to hold on to the past do so at the cost of denying you your future. This great rich, restless country can offer opportunity and education and hope to all--all, black and white, North and South, sharecropper and city dweller. These are the enemies: poverty, ignorance, disease. They are our enemies, not our fellow man, not our neighbor.

And these enemies too--poverty, disease and ignorance--we shall overcome.

Now let none of us in any section look with prideful righteousness on the troubles in another section or the problems of our neighbors. There is really no part of America where the promise of equality has been fully kept. In Buffalo as well as in Birmingham, in Philadelphia as well as Selma, Americans are struggling for the fruits of freedom.

This is one nation. What happens in Selma and Cincinnati is a matter of legitimate concern to every American. But let each of us look within our own hearts and our own communities and let each of us put our shoulder to the wheel to root out injustice wherever it exists. As we meet here in this peaceful historic chamber tonight, men from the South, some of whom were at Iwo Jima, men from the North who have carried Old Glory to the far corners of the world and who brought it back without a stain on it, men from the east and from the west are all fighting together without regard to religion or color or region in Vietnam.

Men from every region fought for us across the world 20 years ago. And now in these common dangers, in these common sacrifices, the South made its contribution of honor and gallantry no less than any other region in the great republic.

And in some instances, a great many of them, more. And I have not the slightest doubt that good men from everywhere in this country, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, from the Golden Gate to the harbors along the Atlantic, will rally now together in this cause to vindicate the freedom of all Americans. For all of us owe this duty and I believe that all of us will respond to it.

Your president makes that request of every American.

The real hero of this struggle is the American Negro. His actions and protests, his courage to risk safety, and even to risk his life, have awakened the conscience of this nation. His demonstrations have been designed to call attention to injustice, designed to provoke change; designed to stir reform. He has been called upon to make good the promise of America.

And who among us can say that we would have made the same progress were it not for his persistent bravery and his faith in American democracy? For at the real heart of the battle for equality is a deep-seated belief in the democratic process. Equality depends, not on the force of arms or tear gas, but depends upon the force of moral right--not on recourse to violence, but on respect for law and order.

There have been many pressures upon your President and there will be others as the days come and go. But I pledge to you tonight that we intend to fight this battle where it should be fought--in the courts, and in the Congress, and the hearts of men. We must preserve the right of free speech and the right of free assembly. But the right of free speech does not carry with it--as has been said--the right to holler fire in a crowded theatre.

We must preserve the right to free assembly. But free assembly does not carry with it the right to block public thoroughfares to traffic. We do have a right to protest. And a right to march under conditions that do not infringe the Constitutional rights of our neighbors. And I intend to protect all those rights as long as I am permitted to serve in this office.

We will guard against violence, knowing it strikes from our hands the very weapons which we seek--progress, obedience to law, and belief in American values. In Selma, as elsewhere, we seek and pray for peace. We seek order, we seek unity, but we will not accept the peace of stifled rights or the order imposed by fear, or the unity that stifles protest--for peace cannot be purchased at the cost of liberty.

In Selma tonight--and we had a good day there--as in every city we are working for a just and peaceful settlement. We must all remember after this speech I'm making tonight, after the police and the F.B.I. and the Marshals have all gone, and after you have promptly passed this bill, the people of Selma and the other cities of the nation must still live and work together.

And when the attention of the nation has gone elsewhere they must try to heal the wounds and to build a new community. This cannot be easily done on a battleground of violence as the history of the South itself shows. It is in recognition of this that men of both races have shown such an outstandingly impressive responsibility in recent days--last Tuesday and again today.

The bill I am presenting to you will be known as a civil rights bill. But in a larger sense, most of the program I am recommending is a civil rights program. Its object is to open the city of hope to all people of all races, because all Americans just must have the right to vote, and we are going to give them that right.

All Americans must have the privileges of citizenship, regardless of race, and they are going to have those privileges of citizenship regardless of race.

But I would like to caution you and remind you that to exercise these privileges takes much more than just legal rights. It requires a trained mind and a healthy body. It requires a decent home and the chance to find a job and the opportunity to escape from the clutches of poverty.

Of course people cannot contribute to the nation if they are never taught to read or write; if their bodies are stunted from hunger; if their sickness goes untended; if their life is spent in hopeless poverty, just drawing a welfare check.

So we want to open the gates to opportunity. But we're also going to give all our people, black and white, the help that they need to walk through those gates. My first job after college was as a teacher in Cotulla, Texas, in a small Mexican-American school. Few of them could speak English and I couldn't speak much Spanish. My students were poor and they often came to class without breakfast and hungry. And they knew even in their youth the pain of prejudice. They never seemed to know why people disliked them, but they knew it was so because I saw it in their eyes.

I often walked home late in the afternoon after the classes were finished wishing there was more that I could do. But all I knew was to teach them the little that I knew, hoping that I might help them against the hardships that lay ahead. And somehow you never forget what poverty and hatred can do when you see its scars on the hopeful face of a young child.

I never thought then, in 1928, that I would be standing here in 1965. It never even occurred to me in my fondest dreams that I might have the chance to help the sons and daughters of those students, and to help people like them all over this country. But now I do have that chance.

And I'll let you in on a secret--I mean to use it. And I hope that you will use it with me.

This is the richest, most powerful country which ever occupied this globe. The might of past empires is little compared to ours. But I do not want to be the president who built empires, or sought grandeur, or extended dominion.

I want to be the president who educated young children to the wonders of their world. I want to be the President who helped to feed the hungry and to prepare them to be taxpayers instead of tax eaters. I want to be the President who helped the poor to find their own way and who protected the right of every citizen to vote in every election. I want to be the President who helped to end hatred among his fellow men and who promoted love among the people of all races, all regions and all parties. I want to be the President who helped to end war among the brothers of this earth.

And so, at the request of your beloved Speaker and the Senator from Montana, the Majority Leader, the Senator from Illinois, the Minority Leader, Mr. McCullock and other members of both parties, I came here tonight, not as President Roosevelt came down one time in person to veto a bonus bill; not as President Truman came down one time to urge passage of a railroad bill, but I came down here to ask you to share this task with me. And to share it with the people that we both work for.

I want this to be the Congress--Republicans and Democrats alike--which did all these things for all these people. Beyond this great chamber--out yonder--in fifty states are the people that we serve. Who can tell what deep and unspoken hopes are in their hearts tonight as they sit there and listen? We all can guess, from our own lives, how difficult they often find their own pursuit of happiness, how many problems each little family has. They look most of all to themselves for their future, but I think that they also look to each of us.

Above the pyramid on the Great Seal of the United States it says in latin, "God has favored our undertaking." God will not favor everything that we do. It is rather our duty to divine His will. But I cannot help but believe that He truly understands and that He really favors the undertaking that we begin here tonight.

=========
President Lyndon B. Johnson - March 15, 1965

On August 6, 1965 President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act ending the practice of administering literacy, knowledge or other tests which had been used to keep African-Americans from registering to vote.

Racial unrest in the nation continued, however, as a major riot broke out in the Watts section of Los Angeles on August 11, 1965, resulting in the deaths of 34 persons and $40 million in damages.


From: http://www.historyplace.com/speeches/johnson.htm

Thoughts on Prop 8, Germany in 1930's etc...

Came across this quote.
"There is no tyranny so depotic as that of public opinion among a free people."
- Journalist Donn Piatt, in the Myrtle Beach, SC - Sun News

Favorite Things as quick as I can

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens;
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens;
Brown paper packages tied up with strings;
These are a few of my favorite things.

1950 and 1960's muscle cars,
pizza,
cheeseburgers,
chocolate milkshakes,
action movies with a touch of comedy,
chocolate chip cookies,
Nancy,
Christie,
Trisha,
Brian,
Jack,
Maggie,
watching it snow,
reading a book in front of a fireplace,
watching my stocks go UP in price.
watching the moon,
watching comets as long as they don't get too close to my favorite planet.
To Be Continued...

May Cause Crash of the Internet.

Warning... I'm not sure, but this May Cause The Crash Of The Internet.

I have found a web site that will convert a web page to a PDF file.

I plan on listing it here, and then converting this actual web page to a PDF file,
so I'll convert the 'Convert HTML to PDF" HTML page to a PDF that contains
an HTML to PDF converter.

This may hurt.. a lot... but here goes.

See http://html-pdf-converter.com/

I will convert it to PDF around 10:45 PM Eastern time, tonight.

You've been warned... by about 5 minutes lead time.

To Blave !

"If you live to be one hundred, I want to live to be a day beyond your passing,
so you never have to exist without a friend around who loves you."

- Wow, how shmaltzy is that?
But it is a nice thought.

Phone Calls to Information

From Wayne,
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was ‘Information Please’ and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.
‘Information, please’ I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

‘Information.’

‘I hurt my finger...’ I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

‘Isn’t your mother home?’ came the question.

‘Nobody’s home but me,’ I blubbered.

‘Are you bleeding?’ the voice asked.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.’

Can you open the icebox?’ she asked. I said I could.

Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger, said the voice.

After that, I called ‘Information Please’ for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please,’ and told her the sad story She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, ‘Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?’
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.’ Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, ‘Information Please.'

‘Information,’ said in the now familiar voice.

‘How do I spell fix?’ I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. ‘Information Please’ belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.
As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown Operator and said, ‘Information Please.’

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. ‘Information.’
I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, ‘Could you please tell me how to spell fix?’
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, ‘I guess your finger must have healed by now.’
I laughed, ‘So it’s really you,’ I said. ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’
I wonder,’ she said, ‘if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.’
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
‘Please do’, she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’

Three months later I was back in Seattle, a different voice answered,
‘Information.’ I asked for Sally. ‘Are you a friend?’ she said.
‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I answered.
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this,’ she said. ‘Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.’
Before I could hang up she said, ‘Wait a minute, is your name Wayne?’
‘Yes.’ I answered.
‘Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.
Let me read it to you.’
The note said, ‘Tell him there are other worlds to
sing in. He’ll know what I mean.’
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

Lifting you on eagle’s wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.

Author 'Wayne', Last Name Unknown

Found online while listening to President Obama's State of the Union Speech

ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S LETTER
TO HIS SON'S TEACHER

He will have to learn, I know,
that all men are not just,
all men are not true.

But teach him also that
for every scoundrel there is a hero;
that for every selfish Politician,
there is a dedicated leader...

Teach him for every enemy there is
a friend,
It will take time, I know;
but teach him if you can,
that a dollar earned is of far more value than five found...

Teach him to learn to lose...
and also to enjoy winning.

Steer him away from envy,
if you can,
teach him the secret of
quiet laughter.

Let him learn early that
the bullies are the easiest to lick...

Teach him, if you can,
the wonder of books...
But also give him quiet time
to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky,
bees in the sun,
and the flowers on a green hillside.

In the school teach him
it is far honourable to fail
than to cheat...

Teach him to have faith
in his own ideas,
even if everyone tells him
they are wrong...

Teach him to be gentle
with gentle people,
and tough with the tough.

Try to give my son
the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on
the band wagon...

Teach him to listen to all men...
but teach him also to filter
all he hears on a screen of truth,
and take only the good
that comes through.

Teach him if u can,
how to laugh when he is sad...
Teach him there is no shame in tears,

Teach him to scoff at cynics
and to beware of too much sweetness...

Teach him to sell his brawn
and brain to the highest bidders
but never to put a price-tag
on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears
to a howling mob
and to stand and fight
if he thinks he's right.

Treat him gently,
but do not cuddle him,
because only the test
of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage
to be impatient...
let him have the patience to be brave.

Teach him always
to have sublime faith in himself,
because then he will have
sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order,
but see what you can do...
He is such a fine fellow,
my son!

Abraham Lincoln

Beware Of False Friends

A friend contacts you on Twitter, Facebook, Texting on a cell, etc.... anything but In Person.
They need money.
They are probably a hacker who got into that account and it's a scam.
BEWARE.
Ask them.. what happened with Betty on that summer night in 2006.
[bogus question, see if they say.. What?]
First indicator that they might be real.
Then Ask them something that DID happen, and see if they know the answer.
Then ask them to Call you direct... calls are now cheap.
Talk to them .. person to person... and find out WTF is really happening.
But
Be
Skeptical.

- Me

EXCELLENT ADVICE

From: http://www.brainfuel.tv/dilberts-retirement-plan

Dilbert’s Retirement Plan

This is Scott Adams retirement plan:

1. Make a will
2. Pay off your credit cards
3. Get term life insurance if you have a family to support
4. Fund your 401k to the maximum
5. Fund your IRA to the maximum
6. Buy a house if you want to live in a house and can afford it
7. Put six months worth of expenses in a money-market account
8. Take whatever money is left over and invest 70% in a stock index fund and 30% in a bond fund through any discount broker and never touch it until retirement
9. If any of this confuses you, or you have something special going on (retirement, college planning, tax issues), hire a fee-based financial planner, not one who charges a percentage of your portfolio

Adams boldly states that this is “everything you need to know about personal investing.” In just 129 words, nine simple points, one page you have the unabridged “Unified Theory of Everything Financial.” That’s it. Everything!
Thanks to Adams’ formula, the average irrational investor can ignore Wall Street: “Everything else you may want to do with your money is a bad idea compared to what’s on my one-page summary. You want an annuity? It’s worse. You want a whole life insurance policy? It’s worse. You want to invest in individual stocks? It’s worse. You want a managed mutual fund instead of an index fund? It’s worse. I could go on, but you get the point.”

Source: MarketWatch and The Dilbert Blog.

Tears.

I was thinking of Prop 8... (what? - Google it!)... anyway, I was thinking of Prop 8 and all those people who love their partner like I love Nancy.
Why would someone be so insecure in their life, to want to take away someone else's concept of Love?

I feel so, so sad for those who are in the tug-of-war with the assholes who want to do harm to those who are in Love.

Is that the theory behind the villain in novels ?
Villain: Someone who is an asshole for no good reason.

I hug inside for those in Love, and I cry outside for those poor, demented, insecure assholes. Such a waste of time, effort.

Parents Never Die ( totally )

A friend at work lost one of their parents, and it got me thinking of mine.

I still see my Dad every day when I look in a mirror. I see my Mom when I look in my eyes.
I feel my Father when I help someone out... Financially, Knowledge wise, and I feel my Mother the most when I just give someone a hand, or just with a Smile.

I suppose my GrandFathers amd Gramdmothers are looking back at us, too.
Mom and Dad probably feel them the same way I can "feel" Paul and Corine.

It probably goes all the way back to that tribe in Africa who crossed the Red Sea at low tide.

Wow, what a concept.... I suppose we all look down the long, long, long tunnel of relatives, and think warm thoughts up the other branches to everyone else who's out there now.

Hi World, Chuck Here !!!!
How the hell are you ????
How the hell are you ???
How the hell are you ??
How the hell are you ?
Echo.... Echo... Echo....
Hoo Hoo Hoo
and back comes a Haa, Haa, Haa !

It Wasn't

Watch out for the "Great Opportunities in other Divisions."
It means... we have to cut back and we're willing to lose you to save our personal bonuses.

Good news... seem to be willing to throw other people off the boat first, cause I can navigate better than most. It will take a while longer, and a bit more desperate till they throw me overboard.

Yeeee, Haaaa !
Drop your drawers and slide on the ice.

Listen and Learn

When the boss schedules a meeting for Friday at 3:00 PM,
Mandatory attendance,
It can't be good news.

SMILE !

Smile !
It makes you feel better, and it confuses the enemy.
:-)

A Great Speech on Jan 20, 2009

My fellow citizens:
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans. That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered.

Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land - a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met. On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics. We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction. This is the journey we continue today.

We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions - that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.

The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act - not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage. What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them - that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply.

The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account - to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day - because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control - and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart - not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort - even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet.

We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds.

And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment - a moment that will define a generation - it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.

It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends - hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism - these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood.

At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:"Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it].

"America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come.
Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

God bless you,... and God Bless America.

Lose Lots Of Weight Real Fast

Want to lose a lot of weight real fast ?

http://tinyurl.com/LoseWeightRealFast

Wost Person Ever ???

Who was Thomas Midgley, Jr ?

Only the human who caused the greatest pollution to the Earth.
See these sites... OMG, what a well meaning smart idiot.

http://tinyurl.com/Thomas-Midgley

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Midgley,_Jr.

There's a lesson to be learned here...
It's up to YOU to learn what it is.

Magnetic North, Again

Back to Henry Hudson.... See what magnetic North looks like in 1990.

http://tinyurl.com/9r88pr

Welcome Maggie !!

Maggie Faye Wilson
arrived at 12:13 PM on Jan 13th, 2009.
6 Lb's, 14 Oz's
19 Inches

She's quite the cute kid, and Everyone is doing fine.

You can see her at http://www.tinyurl.com/MaggieFayeWilson

- Grandpa Chuck

Trains

An Old Thought from wayback...

"Be cautious when you're in a dark tunnel and you suddenly see a light. It may not be an exit, it may be an oncoming train."

- Unknown

Red Clay near the Black Hills of South Dakota

An excellent story from the Sioux out by the Black Hills of South Dakota.

The Legend of the Red Clay

My Grandfather once told me a legend about the mystic red clay that surrounds the Black Hills (PAHA SAPA).

One evening as we were having our evening meal, Grandfather was sitting with his eyes closed, and then he began to speak... The Black Hills was considered the center of the universe when it was created by the Great Spirit. All creatures that lived in the sacred hills spoke the same language.

Peace and harmony existed. But as time passed, the creatures realized that the Great Spirit had given them all their own free will. Eventually, greed came to them. Some wanted to rule over the others and be like the Great Spirit. The arguments got worse and even fighting occurred. Peace and harmony was no longer among them.

The Great Spirit saw this and came to speak... I have created and given you all free will. To settle your disputes I have decided that all of you will race around the Black Hills for seven days. The one who wins this race with good intentions will be the leader.

The great race began and all creatures from the largest to the smallest were running, flying, even swimming. And as they ran, some with greed were fighting and blood was flowing. Many ignored their bleeding hooves, paws, gills, and wings as they ran over the broken ground.
As the days passed there was a great red path around the Black Hills from the blood of all the creatures. And as the last day arrived it was the great buffalo who was running first. But the buffalo didn't know that a magpie was riding on its back.

As they neared the end, being rested, the magpie flew on ahead and finished first and cried, "I am the leader!" All creatures saw that the magpie had cheated and squabbling occurred among them, each claiming to be the leader of the race.

The Great Spirit saw this and spoke to them... You have been fighting and showing hate for one another. For this you will go separate ways and you will never speak or understand each other again.

To the magpie he said...you have cheated and were not fair to the others. For this you will forever eat from the droppings of the others.

To the buffalo he spoke...with a good heart you have raced for this. I bestow upon you an honor. From this clay stained with your blood I create man. All creatures but you will be afraid of him. You great buffalo will provide him with food, shelter, clothing, and tools and he in turn will praise and honor you

Once when man returns to the earth, grass will grow from him and you will eat.

~ As told to Leonard Little Thunder in 1957 by his Grandfather, Frank Comes From War, as told to him by his Grandfather in 1900.

From http://www.siouxpottery.com/stories.php