September, 2009

If you’re out there somewhere and you can read this…I still miss you so much. I love you.

Dad

… “At halftime of our game with Hermantown on Saturday the players, coaches and friends of Jordan will dedicate and retire the number 23 jersey that Jordan wore,” explained CEC coach Archie Clark. “Jordan was our goalkeeper and was All-Conference and had a great all-around senior year, but we will remember him for his great wit, friendship and his enjoyment of sports and all who participated.”…

Article on the ceremony

Meaning of Flag Draped Coffin

All Americans should be given this lesson. Those who think that America is an arrogant nation should really reconsider that thought. Our founding fathers used GOD’s word and teachings to establish our Great Nation and I think it’s high time Americans get re-educated about this Nation’s history. Pass it along and be proud of the country we live in and even more proud of those who serve to protect our “GOD GIVEN” rights and freedoms.

I hope you take the time to read this….. To understand what the flag draped coffin really means….. Here is how to understand the flag that laid upon it and is surrendered to so many widows and widowers.

Do you know that at military funerals, the 21-gun salute stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776?

Have you ever noticed the honor guard pays meticulous attention to correctly folding the United States of America Flag 13 times? You probably thought it was to symbolize the original 13 colonies, but we learn something new every day!

The 1st fold of the flag is a symbol of life.

The 2nd fold is a symbol of the belief in eternal life.

The 3rd fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing the ranks who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of the country to attain peace throughout the world.

The 4th fold represents the weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance
The 5th fold is a tribute to the country, for in the words of Stephen Decatur, “Our Country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.”

The 6th fold is for where people’s hearts lie. It is with their heart that They pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States Of America , and the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.

The 7th fold is a tribute to its Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that they protect their country and their flag against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of their republic.

The 8th fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day.

The 9th fold is a tribute to womanhood, and Mothers. For it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great has been molded.

The 10th fold is a tribute to the father, for he, too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of their country since they were first born.

The 11th fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon and glorifies in the Hebrews eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

The 12th fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the Christians eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.

The 13th fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding them of their nations motto, “In God We Trust.”

After the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat, ever reminding us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and the Sailors and Marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who were followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for them the rights, privileges and freedoms they enjoy today.

There are some traditions and ways of doing things that have deep meaning. In the future, you’ll see flags folded and now you will know why.

Share this with the children you love and all others who love what is referred to, the symbol of ” Liberty and Freedom.”
MAYBE THE SUPREME COURT SHOULD READ THIS EXPLANATION BEFORE THEY RENDER THEIR DECISION ON THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE. FORWARD IT; MAYBE SOMEONE WITH THE NECESSARY POWER, OR POLITICAL AND FINANCIAL INFLUENCE, WILL GET IT TO THEM.

IN THE MEANTIME, MAY GOD PROTECT US ALWAYS.
ONE NATION, UNDER GOD, WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL

(a blast from the past)

First of all, thanks for checking up on me. I didn’t realize so many people actually checked my site to see if I’d written any new blogs. I actually thought my blogs and the thoughts they contained would have the opposite effect – all the liberal foliage consumers would flame me for believing society has turned men into absolute wussies and what’s wrong with a society of submissive sycophants?
But I digress.

Two months ago I told my 12 year old daughter I would agree to take her and her friend to their dance competition in the Twin Cities. I can only imagine that my thought process was very similar to the thought process that the owners and builder of Titanic must have had as they stood on the boat deck and uttered “Naw, we don’t need all those unsightly lifeboats on the deck, let’s leave them out of the design, what could go wrong?…” – they probably thought they weren’t being stupid either.
The sheep (that would be me) was led to the slaughter last weekend. In case you’re wondering what a sheep looks like going to slaughter, apparently they drive a duramax diesel and have two pre-teen girls in the back of the cab. The first warning sign I had that I was being led to hell was my daughter’s friend came packed for a long, sustained voyage with roller suitcase and enough electronics to make a third world nation jealous. DVD players, iPods, cell phones, palm pilots, I seriously thought about telling her not to fire it all up in the cab of my truck so that I didn’t develop a tumor. Her mother told her several times to be good for me or I had her permission to wallop her. That was warning sign number two which I blindly ignored. Actually, reality was this child had never felt the much-needed corrective hand at high velocity on her little spoiled behind but needed it. I came to realize that the geographical center of the universe was now riding in the back of my cab, I have always wondered where the center might be. For those that are wondering, the center is named Melissa and stands about 5’5″ and isn’t as old as you probably thought as she’s only 12. I always thought the center of the universe would be like 50 or so.

The drive down went fine. Melissa’s creator had packed enough junk food for her to prevent scurvy during our long 2 hour voyage to the big city.Thus she began crunching almost immediately. In my pasture we call it grazing. She of course wasn’t disturbed by her open-mouthed broadcasting of her culinary experience because she and my daughter had headphones on because to be without a movie for even part of the trip would be to lower their standard of living apparently.

I had been instructed to wake her up before everyone else because she was “a little slower than everyone else to get ready.” It took primadonna 2 hours to get ready in front of that mirror. She started at 5am. My daughter took 30 minutes. I took the 4 1/2 minutes it usually takes me to shower, brush, put on deoderant and pull on my jeans and t-shirt.

We drive the 30 minutes to their dance competition, I find the dressing rooms where it is expressly posted NO MEN everywhere – fine with this dad, no way I wanted to go back into estrogen hell….and Melissa runs out to tell me that she wants me to go back to the hotel to get her purse because she forgot it despite my thrice repeated litany “do you have everything? Check again”…”do you have everything? Check again…” well you get the picture. I tell the little primadonna “no.” And then realize I’m standing in the midst of competitive dance moms, all of whom are now living vicariously through their protege’s and I stand no chance of surviving this. So decide to drive back to the hotel and get their purses because it provides the opportunity to light up a cigar, drive my truck and not be there.

Get back, get their purses back to them, to find out Melissa has determined she doesn’t want to stay in the Twin Cities at the expensive hotel I am now stuck paying for for two nights. She didn’t know we were staying two nights. Her mom wants her home today. Forget it, we’ll figure that out later….

I watch my daughter dance, she’s of course wonderful, all of the other children are mere distractions and nobody could hope to top my flesh and kins performance. She rocks. She’s great. She’s adorable. Enough said? Obviously she gets her talent from her father.

Daughter helps father lighten his wallet by $55 buying pictures of her on stage from the racket that sells over-priced pictures of daughters on stage. Dad is hero for about 11 minutes.

Melissa tries to help her friend’s father lighten wallet by more money to buy her pictures as well. Melissa is not successful because her friend’s father by now despises her and instead vows to write a book on parental discipline and how you’re not doing children a favor by giving in to their every whim and you’re not their buddy. They have buddies. Many of whom are apparently more mature than the parents. But I digress.

My favorite quote from the dictator moms herding captive classes of costume-clad children was “You’ll smile whether you like it or not!!!” I tried to blend with the brickwork of the wall as much as I could. I was the only dad for much of the time and when there were other dads, they were rabid dance dads, much like hockey parents if you’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing any who push their children like all civilization rests on them accomplishing what the parents never did. I dated a hockey parent – never again, they need meds. Dance dads are meeker versions of dance moms. They take their orders from dance moms. Dance moms are older versions of the dancers only they don’t have fun and they want their daughters to do what they didn’t. Win. To their credit, the young dancers have adapted to this maniacal world and still seem to be having fun. My daughter said the trick is to ignore the dictator parents, only pretending to listen when their screaming has reached a fever pitch. So much like her dad, did I mention she was the best dancer ever?

Back at the hotel, Melissa’s web of intrigue has grown. We have to go, her mom expects her home. My daughter is saying nothing. I have them pack, we get to the truck, I finally ask my daughter why she wants to go – she doesn’t, this is Melissa’s idea. Melissa had begged to stay two nights and has apparently deigned that she doesn’t like being away from home, which she calls on her cell phone about every 11 minutes or so and if her mother doesn’t answer immediately, greets her with such warm comments as “what took you so long, I had to wait…”

I stop them in the lobby of the hotel, about to load the truck and ask why we’re leaving, Melissa tells me the story of having to go. I suggest we may be staying – she bursts into tears, a panic-stricken look in her eyes that she may actually have to honor her commitment to stay, that somebody may challenge her normal ability to rule us subjects through manipulation. I agree to put her bags in the truck to stop the spectacle in the lobby, she gets in and immediately calls her mom on the cell phone. My daughter is down because she doesn’t want to leave but doesn’t know what to do. I call my ex-wife who tells me “oh yeah, I forgot to mention she’s a spoiled little brat who always gets her way and her mom always backs down – go ahead and keep her there.” I point out the flaw in the plan being I’m now holding a child I don’t know against her will, the law seems to frown on things like that. She says she’ll have the brat’s mom call me. She of course can’t because Melissa is on pleading her case. We stand out there 30 minutes, a mini form of detente witnessed by hotel guests and desk staff who wonder what torture I’m inflicting upon the poor little girl who sits crying in the big mean diesel demon. I call my ex-wife back, ask if she’s talked to the kids mom, she says the mom will support whatever I want to do and not to worry. In today’s society I wonder if I’ll get time off for good behavior…
I finally decide to make her stay. We unload their bags from the back of the truck, she makes more panic-stricken calls to mom as she’s pulled from the cab. I close the doors tell my daughter I’m going to go park the truck, good luck. I debate continuing driving away. Far, far away…and park the truck, realizing I kind of like my daughter.
We go back to the hotel room, they go swimming. Her mom finally calls, apologizes, admits Melissa “has her way a lot.” Thanks for putting up with all this, good luck.
They come back from swimming, my daughter pulls me aside to announce that Melissa is having her first time. Being a guy, the train of thought doesn’t stop at the little gate to be checked before it leaves my mouth and I stupidly ask “first time what? staying at a hotel?” “No dad, her FIRST time….you know….” Awareness hit me like the iceberg met Titanic. I was in hell and I’d been elected mayor. Panicked, I called my ex-wife. This was a crisis men are not suited for. We fix things. We can’t fix this. “Send your daughter down to the gift shop, this is her first time so it won’t be a big deal.” Not having had to experience this with my girls, I later found out this IS A BIG DEAL. Even bigger when the hotel DOESN’T HAVE A GIFT SHOP. I ask the front desk staff where the closest convenience store is – they ask loudly what we’re looking for. My daughter and her friend are dying. The friend’s not talking directly to me anymore, particularly not about this. My daughter serves as interpreter and I’m learning a new language. “Dad, we need to find a store soon.” Hurry and find a store, got that. “Ummm, we need to get some snacks and ummm, supplies, you know…” “What kind of supplies?” (AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH) “Oh you know, just misc. supplies…” They finally cough up the location of the nearest shop like it’s an atomic secret. “Dad, we really need to hurry…” HURRY and find a store, got that.

We survived the trip, I had an unusual interest in frozen foods while they frantically shopped and then purchased their ‘supplies’. We raced back to the hotel. My orders were to ensure the lobby was clean and in order while they went back to the suite. I happily obliged those orders. I told the front desk staff what we were REALLY looking for and shared an embarrassed laugh at how cryptic our conversation had been.
I got the all clear to return to the suite – I ordered so many pizzas and other junk food items that for the first time ever I had to use a credit card to pay for the order. I was taking no chances. Peace would come through pizza.

By the grace of God and another DVD for the ride back…I made it home. I am one of the lucky ones. Others I’m sure have fallen before me, and unfortunately, I doubt I will be the last to have this fate befall them. Let’s all take a moment of silence for the unwitting fathers who, like a deer in the headlights, make a rash decision to take their pre-teen daughter and friend to a dance competition and may not be as lucky as I am to return home in one piece.

Dear DVD and Video Makers,

You know how you like to put all those ominous FBI, Interpol and other warnings at the front of the DVDs most of us humans purchase – well guess what? It’s only on the DVDs of those of us who have legally purchased your movie. Why don’t you just put those warnings on the illegal bootleg copies and let those of us purchasing the videos legally actually get to the movie and maybe put a “thank you” message to us for keeping you employed at the beginning – a very short one without all those tiny words will be enough to thank us. I don’t want to hurt your feelings but the reality is most of us put the DVD in and because we can’t fast forward past your scary warning to the law abiding, we use that time to go to the bathroom or get snacks in the kitchen, so all your impressive writing is going to waste.

Sincerely,
Jeffrey L. Tucker
Legal Video Watcher

Legal disclaimer: The preceding opinion may or may not express the opinions, views, observations or obsessions of me, myself or I. This work is fiction and/or possibly nonfiction and is not intended to bare any similarity or likeness to any entity, living or dead. Hotly contested words may or may not be a source of global warming. Contains over 90% of the US Government’s required daily rhetoric. Not valid in all 50 states. Void where prohibited. Some settling may have occurred during shipment.

How come if we live in a land that values free speech so much we have phone bills?

Dearest Redneck Son,

I’m writing this slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live in Ohio where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address because the last Buckeye family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn’t have to change their address.

This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure about it. I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven’t seen them since.

The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.

About that coat you wanted me to send; your Uncle Billy Bob said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven’t found out what it is yet so I don’t know if you are an aunt or uncle.

Uncle Bobbie Ray fell into a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated, he burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down!

There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.

Your Favorite Aunt,

Mom

Cash for Clunkers

A vehicle at 15 mpg and 12,000 miles per year uses 800 gallons a year of gasoline.

A vehicle at 25 mpg and 12,000 miles per year uses 480 gallons a year.

So, the average clunker transaction will reduce US gasoline consumption by 320 gallons per year.

They claim 700,000 vehicles so that’s 224 million gallons / year.

That equates to a bit over 5 million barrels of oil. 5 million barrels of oil is about ¼
of one day’s US consumption.

And, 5 million barrels of oil costs about $350 million dollars at $75/bbl.

So, we all contributed to spending $3 billion to save $350 million.

How good a deal was that ???

They’ll probably do a great job with health care though!!

(at least they’re giving money to our own citizens rather than handing it out all over the planet to places that hate us and don’t appreciate your generosity)

Back in the 1500s:

They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery…….if you had to do this to survive you were “Piss Poor”
But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldnt even afford to buy a pot………..they “didnt have a pot to piss in” & were the lowest of the low

The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn’t just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June… However, since they were starting to smell . .. . brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the
babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, “Don’t throw the baby out with the Bath water!”

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip an d fall off the roof. Hence the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That’s how canopy beds came into existence.

The floor was dirt.. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, “Dirt poor.” The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.

(Getting quite an education, aren’t you?)

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire.. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, “bring home the bacon.” They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.

Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus,someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a dead ringer…

And that’s the truth…Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !

So . . . get out there and educate someone! ~~~ Share these facts with a friend like I just did ! ! !

September 6, 2009: Wow, is it me or is this weekend FLYING by? Been busy working on a variety of things – created a permanent spot in Helen L’s memory on the Windchill forum site called Helen’s Corner Cafe – A Cup of Smiles. It’s a place to get together over a good hot cup of coffee and share life’s ups and downs and slow down for awhile. To use a famous phrase, it’s a place where everybody knows your name.
Been busy making changes on various websites – the WindChill Legacy website will have some tweaks, the Raindance site will do a better job describing our services as well as listing the horses we have for sale better, building a new website for the Legacy but that hasn’t even hit beta level yet so keeping busy!
I hope you’re all enjoying this beautiful weekend. I’m going outside to enjoy a cigar and hot cup of coffee and enjoy the warmth of the sun while it lasts!