Saturday, December 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
True Friends
I'll be danged...here it is! Old Ben said that last one was a little too morbid...thought I'd give this one a try, just couldn't get it loaded on here so I went through YouTube. It worked!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Something else?
Had a hell of a love affair with this lady for 30 odd years and I had to remember with this song I wrote for her...but then seems I wrote all my songs for her! She gave me 4 beautiful, smart girls before she left and they in turn have given me grandbabies so I guess I been blessed a lot. Thanks Ma!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
New Vets clinic
Well, had a nice ride on the old Harley this morning. Went to the open house for the new Veteran's clinic that opens in Fort Worth on Monday. Damn, lots of old farts there. I think this is great, don't have to go to Dallas or Waco for what ails me. Nice facility for taking care of those who took care of us. Headed into Fort Worth tomorrow for the Veteran's Day parade. Ought to be a hoot. Liable to be a lot of old farts there too. After the parade we get to have some lunch at some BBQ place that has some good food as well a some eye candy! I might be old, but I ain't blind. Besides, that and a cold beer would probably kill me anyway!
Ain't too danged smart!
Well, ya' know how it seems fiascoes seem to go hand in hand with just plain livin'? If so, I got one for ya'. Television went out Sunday morning. Wasn't unexpected, had a little yellow light show up on the front panel saying that the projection lamp on my DLP tele had run out of its life expectancy and was time to replace. Well, it kept right on a workin' so I saw no need to replace it till it died. Bought a new lamp in August, hedging the inevitable and waited. Wow, how did that inanimate object know it was due to die? Amazed me. Anyway she passed and so I replaced that bulb and turned the contraption on. Nothing, except for that same little yellow light. The instructions said you had to reset the timer (so that's how it knew) on the lamp and to please see the owners manual. Did that...nothing, no mention of a timer reset in the manual, anywhere. Pulled the lamp back out. Waited 5 minutes and put it back in. Same result. Then I noticed the little yellow light was gone. Hooray! Now the little yellow light was red! Drats. Technology reared its ugly head at this point...so I bought a new tv. Nice one too. But none of the stuff I had plugged in to the other one works now. Ain't fiascoes grand!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Additionally!
Got a little premature in the congrats dept. Some things just didn't work (I have that problem too sometimes). So I'm back to square one and holdin' my breath. At least everything came back this time. Will have to work on it some more if I can pry Ben loose later. If his memory holds he can be a whiz with this stuff.
Its all his fault!
Well that old Ben has been messin' with me again wantin' me to change this and edit that...so I did! Like it but I lost my intro on several things...that it worked at all surprised me! But I'm movin' and any day above ground I count as a blessing! Thanks Pard, for shovin' me in the right direction. Couldn't sleep so I rolled out at 7:45 this mornin' only to remember that "spring forward, fall back" thingy and realized it was only 6:45! Oh well, maybe I'll get to church on time. Fixin' stew and homemade french bread for supper for the kids and grandkids...yeah I still remember my way around a kitchen. Guess that time on the chuckwagon finally paid off! Still like cookin' in that old cast iron skillet. Pretty much have it down to a science and ain't too bad in the cleanup department if you remember to not use dish washing soap on it. Leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Well I guess I'll close for this time and load up for church. Ya'll be good, bye!
Monday, November 1, 2010
The Lord of the Dance
A couple of weeks ago my grandson and his "cousin" were baptized and myself and a couple of ladies in the church wanted to sing to commemorate the occasion so we sang this song and I think it came out well. Being the Lord of the dance and nothing to do with Michael Flatly it still made a nice statement.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Okay, so we didn't go to Sunday school...but we didn't go fishin'!
At the pistol range, Ashlea liked the 9mm while Abby liked the .45(that's my girl), okay I'm kinda partial to the 1911 .45 myself. Neither cared for the .357 or the .380 one was too much and the other not enough, but that's okay. At the rifle range both enjoyed the 1942 Winchester M1 Carbine. Both girls made me proud and hit what they was aimin' at! They passed on the AR-15 and the 30.06 and I can understand why, last time I shot the ought 6 I hit the paper at a hundred one time and said that's enough for me!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Funnies
At a school in the USA, the girls in their early teens had just discovered lipstick.
They would go into the female toilets to apply it.
Then, giggling, they’d leave the imprint of their lips on the large mirror.
This made a lot of extra work for the cleaning staff.
The head teacher asked the girls to stop.
Of course they ignored her.
So she took the girl’s to the female toilets for a demonstration.
She said, “It takes a lot of work to clean the lipstick off the mirror.”
She said to the janitor, “Please show the girls how much work it takes.”
The janitor put the mop in the toilet, squeezed off the excess water and washed the mirror.
Then put the mop in the toilet again, and repeated the process.
From that day on there was no more lipstick on the mirror.
These have been around before but still funny.
Having served his time with the Marine Corps,a man became a school teacher and before school started he injured his back. He was required to wear a plaster cast around the upper part of his body. Fortunately, the cast fit under his shirt and wasn't even noticeable. On the first day of class, he found himself assigned to the toughest students in the school. Walking confidently into the rowdy classroom, he opened the window wide and sat down at his desk. When a strong breeze made his tie flap, he took a stapler and stapled the tie to his chest. He had no trouble with discipline that year...
They would go into the female toilets to apply it.
Then, giggling, they’d leave the imprint of their lips on the large mirror.
This made a lot of extra work for the cleaning staff.
The head teacher asked the girls to stop.
Of course they ignored her.
So she took the girl’s to the female toilets for a demonstration.
She said, “It takes a lot of work to clean the lipstick off the mirror.”
She said to the janitor, “Please show the girls how much work it takes.”
The janitor put the mop in the toilet, squeezed off the excess water and washed the mirror.
Then put the mop in the toilet again, and repeated the process.
From that day on there was no more lipstick on the mirror.
These have been around before but still funny.
Having served his time with the Marine Corps,a man became a school teacher and before school started he injured his back. He was required to wear a plaster cast around the upper part of his body. Fortunately, the cast fit under his shirt and wasn't even noticeable. On the first day of class, he found himself assigned to the toughest students in the school. Walking confidently into the rowdy classroom, he opened the window wide and sat down at his desk. When a strong breeze made his tie flap, he took a stapler and stapled the tie to his chest. He had no trouble with discipline that year...
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Inspiration
Emotion sometimes breeds creativity. Last night I was watching a movie that touched off a fit of inspiration/creativity. Half way through the words started to flow and pen and paper weren't that far away so I started jotting them down. If you don't at that precise moment they tend to get lost forever. So this was the result. It ain't cowboy but it is poetry.
Those Things
All those things I never got done,
The impossible things, the improbable things,
The things that I had just begun.
Those things for which I always seemed to never have the time,
The incredible things, the regrettable things,
Those things I selfishly thought were mine.
The things I found in myself that I lacked,
Those perceivable things, those retrievable things,
The things I would break or crack.
The things that seemed like they came from above,
Those adorable things, those deplorable things,
Those things that you brought me with love.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
October, 2010
Those Things
All those things I never got done,
The impossible things, the improbable things,
The things that I had just begun.
Those things for which I always seemed to never have the time,
The incredible things, the regrettable things,
Those things I selfishly thought were mine.
The things I found in myself that I lacked,
Those perceivable things, those retrievable things,
The things I would break or crack.
The things that seemed like they came from above,
Those adorable things, those deplorable things,
Those things that you brought me with love.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
October, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Lotsa time between words!
Ya' know...I ain't one to just go slobberin' off at the mouth if I ain't got something good to say. That kind of palaver just wastes my time and yours. So I guess I'll just refrain unless something really excitin' comes along. Just hang in there with me and I'll try to make it interestin', even if it ain't every day!
How about this then!
Well, I'll give this a try...ain't got too many comments on my other junk so maybe this will draw some. Or...might be that I'm the only one who really cares, about my junk. Can kinda get that somehow! Oh well, we keep tryin'...perhaps!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Story lines
Okay so I promised I might produce a few lines from one of my books, so here goes, hope you enjoy.
Jack Johnston, Private Dick
I awoke with the taste of “urinal cake” in my mouth. Don’t ask how I knew. The smell of stale vomit and fresh urine invaded my nose. Upon checking, both were mine. Fingers on both hands had made the discovery about the same time. Thought about trying to get up, was having difficulty making the legs work. Someone or something had worked me over pretty good. Must have asked the wrong questions somewhere. Swell, the day was starting pretty much like all the others had recently. Aside from that missing front tooth my tongue had found, the others seemed in tact. I groaned, vocal chords still worked. Shoved up with the elbows and came to a semi-sitting position. Worked better than I thought. Well, the stomach contents were already spilled so that didn’t bother me when I gagged on the stench. Nothing left to come up, or so I thought. Funny how these things never go as planned. Oh well, the shirt was in need of dry cleaning anyway. What’s a few more chunks more or less? “Hey, the Sox won again”, I perused as I wallowed in the trash. My bookie would be pleased, I could finally pay him what I owed him and get him off my back.
Legs were still wobbly but trying to seek an upright stance. “Come on, you can do it.” The drain pipe was handy so I used it to help my rise. Leaning gave me stability and kept my legs from buckling. Hoped that brick wall was in better condition. Gazed up and down the alley. Wasn’t one I recognized and I knew plenty. Rather dark where I was, more light at either end. Opted for the closer of the two. Pushed off hard in that direction. Stumbling was a way of life for the time being. I got used to it. Glad my feet kept up with my vision of “the way” and didn’t redeposit me onto the asphalt again.
Hailed a taxi at the curb. Took a minute to check if I still had my wallet. Still there. Not much folding money and I knew he wouldn’t take a check. Hoped it was enough for the ride, I didn’t feel like playing rabbit. Wasn’t too worried about it. Gave the guy the address and leaned back into the cushions for the ride.
Whoever she was had left a pleasant calling card imbedded in the head rest, Channel #5. That fragrance seemed to change with the particular body part that it was applied to. Inside the elbow was definitely a different aroma than the backside of the knee. It may have been due to the proximity of the prize. Body heat sent the smell to another level. The hotter she got, the more she smelled. I had tasted every one. Well, I must be feeling better, those thoughts were back again. Began to recognize some things whizzing by the side glass just as we pulled to a stop in front of my building. I had a buck left after the fare. Stumbled up the stoop and into the foyer. Hoped the elevator worked, my legs couldn’t take the stairs.
Nice lady got in on the third floor. Same perfume as the cab. Thoughts were rambling again, but the wall I was leaning on held most of my attention at the moment. The fifth was mine and I bid her farewell. Two doors down and on the right. Fumbled for the keys…the keys…found them. Went through a half dozen before “bingo” and the tumblers fell into place. The door swung open as priorities fell into place, first more whiskey and then the couch. I heard the first snore then blackness.
Must have laid there motionless till I stirred with a full bladder, was sore with some parts still asleep. Left arm was numb and didn’t work very well. Found the john and let her rip. Felt good just to have a decent whiz. Mind wandered as the toilet splashed. Must remember to let Mrs. Waverly know her husband was “not” fooling around with another woman. That’s what she paid me for. Wondered if she wanted to know that he was fooling around with a junior exec, who was rather effeminate. Oh well, take the money and run. Guess she would pay for another insight into her hubby’s dealings on another occasion. That would put beans on the table. Never had let ethics stand between me and my wallet. “Damn, peed on my shoe!” Rubbed it on the back of my pant’s leg. Shook it twice and flushed. Was careful not to zip certain things up in the zipper. Could get bloody.
Couldn’t quite shake a certain aroma. It wasn’t the pee on the trousers leg. The closet held a couple of choices that hadn’t quite made it to the cleaners yet. Grabbed the blue pinstripe and a fresh shirt. Would save a shower for later. Belly said it was time.
Pizza box on my desk didn’t hold anything too enticing for breakfast so I turned my thoughts to the diner across the street. Cute little red headed waitress was always teasing me with something or other. Two could play that game.
I slid into my favorite booth as she brought a menu after working it over with her pencil.
“I just scratched what you like,” she sassed.
“Well, wash your hands and bring me ham and eggs anyway,” I told you two could play.
She stomped off in a huff and yelled back over her shoulder, “Coffee?”
I just smiled and she just shook her hips menacingly as she ducked behind the counter. "Might have to give that a try sometime.”
After I gobbled down the goodies I found the rumpled pack and the last cigarette. I lit it and eyeballed the red head.
She caught my gaze and strutted over for the perfunctory “Anything else?”
I decided to push my luck and see if the waters ahead would be smooth sailing or rough seas. I shoved my hand up her skirt. She smirked and turned so my hand came to rest on the prize. After an inappropriate pause, I gave her a little pinch and she cleared the table and shot me a grin from ear to ear. Guess that meant calm waters and full steam ahead.
The morning paper lay in the booth beside me so I gathered it up for a read. Lots had happened overnight while I lay indisposed. The headlines were a mix of “fashion faux pas” and penny ante hoodlum games. Was still garnering the printed word when she returned to fill my coffee cup from across the table. Then the words struck a chord.
Mrs. Jonathon Waverly III had come to a rather unexplained end last night. She was found stuffed in the dumbwaiter at the Waverly estate. “Strange.” The kitchen help and the rest of the staff were being questioned but had all been released. Mr. Waverly, the third, was nowhere to be found and the police were also seeking the whereabouts of a certain junior executive who had frequented the estate as of late. “Wow, how interesting…and a shame!” She had been my bread and butter for several months now, must look into another “cash cow” in a hurry. Nice lady, rather naïve.
Smiled at the red head and headed for the door. After adding to my tab, she ambled that direction too and when I opened it she said “I get off at three.”
“I’ll be back.”
Jack Johnston, Private Dick
I awoke with the taste of “urinal cake” in my mouth. Don’t ask how I knew. The smell of stale vomit and fresh urine invaded my nose. Upon checking, both were mine. Fingers on both hands had made the discovery about the same time. Thought about trying to get up, was having difficulty making the legs work. Someone or something had worked me over pretty good. Must have asked the wrong questions somewhere. Swell, the day was starting pretty much like all the others had recently. Aside from that missing front tooth my tongue had found, the others seemed in tact. I groaned, vocal chords still worked. Shoved up with the elbows and came to a semi-sitting position. Worked better than I thought. Well, the stomach contents were already spilled so that didn’t bother me when I gagged on the stench. Nothing left to come up, or so I thought. Funny how these things never go as planned. Oh well, the shirt was in need of dry cleaning anyway. What’s a few more chunks more or less? “Hey, the Sox won again”, I perused as I wallowed in the trash. My bookie would be pleased, I could finally pay him what I owed him and get him off my back.
Legs were still wobbly but trying to seek an upright stance. “Come on, you can do it.” The drain pipe was handy so I used it to help my rise. Leaning gave me stability and kept my legs from buckling. Hoped that brick wall was in better condition. Gazed up and down the alley. Wasn’t one I recognized and I knew plenty. Rather dark where I was, more light at either end. Opted for the closer of the two. Pushed off hard in that direction. Stumbling was a way of life for the time being. I got used to it. Glad my feet kept up with my vision of “the way” and didn’t redeposit me onto the asphalt again.
Hailed a taxi at the curb. Took a minute to check if I still had my wallet. Still there. Not much folding money and I knew he wouldn’t take a check. Hoped it was enough for the ride, I didn’t feel like playing rabbit. Wasn’t too worried about it. Gave the guy the address and leaned back into the cushions for the ride.
Whoever she was had left a pleasant calling card imbedded in the head rest, Channel #5. That fragrance seemed to change with the particular body part that it was applied to. Inside the elbow was definitely a different aroma than the backside of the knee. It may have been due to the proximity of the prize. Body heat sent the smell to another level. The hotter she got, the more she smelled. I had tasted every one. Well, I must be feeling better, those thoughts were back again. Began to recognize some things whizzing by the side glass just as we pulled to a stop in front of my building. I had a buck left after the fare. Stumbled up the stoop and into the foyer. Hoped the elevator worked, my legs couldn’t take the stairs.
Nice lady got in on the third floor. Same perfume as the cab. Thoughts were rambling again, but the wall I was leaning on held most of my attention at the moment. The fifth was mine and I bid her farewell. Two doors down and on the right. Fumbled for the keys…the keys…found them. Went through a half dozen before “bingo” and the tumblers fell into place. The door swung open as priorities fell into place, first more whiskey and then the couch. I heard the first snore then blackness.
Must have laid there motionless till I stirred with a full bladder, was sore with some parts still asleep. Left arm was numb and didn’t work very well. Found the john and let her rip. Felt good just to have a decent whiz. Mind wandered as the toilet splashed. Must remember to let Mrs. Waverly know her husband was “not” fooling around with another woman. That’s what she paid me for. Wondered if she wanted to know that he was fooling around with a junior exec, who was rather effeminate. Oh well, take the money and run. Guess she would pay for another insight into her hubby’s dealings on another occasion. That would put beans on the table. Never had let ethics stand between me and my wallet. “Damn, peed on my shoe!” Rubbed it on the back of my pant’s leg. Shook it twice and flushed. Was careful not to zip certain things up in the zipper. Could get bloody.
Couldn’t quite shake a certain aroma. It wasn’t the pee on the trousers leg. The closet held a couple of choices that hadn’t quite made it to the cleaners yet. Grabbed the blue pinstripe and a fresh shirt. Would save a shower for later. Belly said it was time.
Pizza box on my desk didn’t hold anything too enticing for breakfast so I turned my thoughts to the diner across the street. Cute little red headed waitress was always teasing me with something or other. Two could play that game.
I slid into my favorite booth as she brought a menu after working it over with her pencil.
“I just scratched what you like,” she sassed.
“Well, wash your hands and bring me ham and eggs anyway,” I told you two could play.
She stomped off in a huff and yelled back over her shoulder, “Coffee?”
I just smiled and she just shook her hips menacingly as she ducked behind the counter. "Might have to give that a try sometime.”
After I gobbled down the goodies I found the rumpled pack and the last cigarette. I lit it and eyeballed the red head.
She caught my gaze and strutted over for the perfunctory “Anything else?”
I decided to push my luck and see if the waters ahead would be smooth sailing or rough seas. I shoved my hand up her skirt. She smirked and turned so my hand came to rest on the prize. After an inappropriate pause, I gave her a little pinch and she cleared the table and shot me a grin from ear to ear. Guess that meant calm waters and full steam ahead.
The morning paper lay in the booth beside me so I gathered it up for a read. Lots had happened overnight while I lay indisposed. The headlines were a mix of “fashion faux pas” and penny ante hoodlum games. Was still garnering the printed word when she returned to fill my coffee cup from across the table. Then the words struck a chord.
Mrs. Jonathon Waverly III had come to a rather unexplained end last night. She was found stuffed in the dumbwaiter at the Waverly estate. “Strange.” The kitchen help and the rest of the staff were being questioned but had all been released. Mr. Waverly, the third, was nowhere to be found and the police were also seeking the whereabouts of a certain junior executive who had frequented the estate as of late. “Wow, how interesting…and a shame!” She had been my bread and butter for several months now, must look into another “cash cow” in a hurry. Nice lady, rather naïve.
Smiled at the red head and headed for the door. After adding to my tab, she ambled that direction too and when I opened it she said “I get off at three.”
“I’ll be back.”
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Procrastinator
Okay...I have been a little remiss in my blogging of late. Between my kids, my grandkids, writing a little poetry, writing on my books (got 3 started), playing a little guitar and singing, my days seem to get spent. When I was a kid time dragged by from Monday till the weekend, now it speeds by before I even know its gone. Oh well, old age ain't for sissies! Picture is of me feeding the ostrich, hungry little devil too. I took the family camping down at Dinosaur Valley State Park in Glen Rose, Texas this past weekend. Saturday morning we headed to Fossil Rim Wildlife Park to gawk at some critters and feed a few. Got a video i might try to upload of the grandkids feeding the giraffe. Hi-larious! Might even share a page or two of some of my books. Some of the stuff ain't half bad!Wednesday, September 8, 2010
I need a screw.
Well, ain't done this in a while (thought retirement meant I could slow down some) so I figure I'll spout a few words about my glasses. I wear them! From a foot or so to 6 foot or so I'm good, its up close or far away that I need 'em. Well, me and the bike ('06 Dyna Wideglide Harley Davidson motorcycle) took a jaunt the other day and were tooling around enjoying ourselves and I went to adjust my goggles (wear them over my glasses) and to my shagrin one of my lenses fell out inside my goggles. That was exciting till I could get her shut down and over to the side of the road. Sure enough the little tiny screw had fallen smooth out and disappeared into the nether regions somewhere. I really needed those spectacles so I decided to stop in at a neighborhood eyewear place and see if they could help. Walked in looking like the biker trash I probably am and a cute young thing asked if she could help me. Without hesitation I spoke right up and said "I need a screw"! The lady getting her glasses fitted cracked up with the biggest guffaw I had heard. The older lady waiting on her piped up with "I have a headache"! The cutey who asked to help simply said "honey, so do I"! After the laughter died down she helped out quite a bit and screwed me right on the spot. I thanked them for the screw and proceeded to back out and they hollered an invite to come back anytime, most fun they'd had in a week!
Windy
Windy
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Lost Battalion
Well, I was given the honor of providing the M1 Garand rifles for the Honor Guard for the reunion of the survivors of the Lost Battalion. I will also place a military cross for those who can no longer attend. (The military cross is a rifle with bayonet stuck in the ground with a helmet on top, a pair of boots in front and dog tags hanging.) The Lost Battalion were those men who labored in Burma and other places to build railroads through the jungles. Don't know how any survived but they did. Best example would be the movie Bridge over the river Kwai, that was the Lost Battalion, called so because they were moved around so much no one knew they were even alive. Their efforts were called the Death Railroad because so many died to build them. It will be my honor to honor these brave men who gave so much for this nation. Their numbers have dwindled but they still stand tall. Thank you gentlemen, for your sacrifices.
Windy
Windy
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Hot enough for ya'?
Yep, it was another scorcher yesterday and I took the Harley out to a funeral. Man, there just was no shade to hide under...wouldn't have mattered, it was hot in the shade too! Made it as far as the National Cemetery and then the heat took over and I got a instant headache and the black spots started appearing in front of my eyes...not good to say the least. Decided it was a lot better out on that motorcycle so I left. There was a breeze on the back of that Hog at 70mph. That helped, so I decided to stop and check in with Philip Ray and the hospital. I got a little shaky on the walk in so I stopped and grabbed a bite to eat at the hospital cafeteria. Diabetes and the heat don't mix too well! He had had a third surgery on his elbow that morning and was not really feeling up to visitors so I stepped next door and met a gentleman he had worked with at Lockheed who had gone done on his bike by the name of Dick Freeman. He told me he had over 750000 miles on motorcycles and never been down. Only takes one! He said the white lines all came together and he blacked out at 60mph. Ain't good! The lady behind him told him later that he crossed the median and barely missed the front end of an 18 wheeler. He ended up in the ditch straddling a metal pipe fence. It didn't move an inch. Well, I guess all us riders have realized that these things could be dangerous but I could slip on a bar of soap in the bathtub and be just as dead! Beside, the bugs taste better at midnight, or so I've heard. Just be careful out there...cages will get you killed too!
Windy
Windy
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Patriot Guard Rider down.
North Texas Rider Down. Philip Ray of Burleson was involved in a single vehicle accident this Thursday morning while traveling to a PGR mission in Waxahachie, Texas. Philip was exiting 287 onto I-35E and his bike lost traction when taking the exit in Waxahachie. Philip was following a fellow PGR (me) who was not involved in the accident but was able to summon emergency services and stayed with Philip until he was taken by Care Flight to Harris-Methodist Hospital in Fort Worth. (Would like to commend here those kind folks who stopped to render aide, thanks to all.) It appears neither speed nor weather were a factor in the accident; he was wearing his helmet (which took heavy damage) but not his gloves or jacket. Philip sustained the following injuries: Fractured right Clavicle, fractured right elbow, fractured ribs, collapsed right lung, possible fractured right hand and right foot. He also sustained numerous cuts, contusions and abrasions on his hands, face, arms, knees and upper torso. He will be undergoing surgery in the morning at Harris-Methodist Hospital in Fort Worth. Philip’s spirits are high and he has not lost his smile or his sense of humor. He was laughing and joking with the trauma team as they worked on him. Please keep Philip and his family in your prayers.
Its never good to see a fellow rider go down. (I really mean that, I saw him and the bike not make the curve and both slide across the road and into the grass on 35.) He doesn't remember exactly what happened. He told the medics the rear end tried to swap places with the front end. It can happen quick sometimes. Always heard it said that it was not if you were going to go down but rather when! Quick recovery Philip.
Windy
Its never good to see a fellow rider go down. (I really mean that, I saw him and the bike not make the curve and both slide across the road and into the grass on 35.) He doesn't remember exactly what happened. He told the medics the rear end tried to swap places with the front end. It can happen quick sometimes. Always heard it said that it was not if you were going to go down but rather when! Quick recovery Philip.
Windy
Friday, July 23, 2010
Who are the Patriot Guard Riders?
Who are the Patriot Guard Riders?
There were zero PGR 5 years ago. As of now, there are over 190,000. This growth has not come easy, and it is not perfect. And in case anybody misunderstands, I thought I should make it clear who the PGR are to me.
The PGR is the Hell's Angel that has held a flag for three hours in honor of a fallen solider.
The PGR is the Christian Motorcyclist Association rider that is standing next to him.
The PGR is the elderly lady with a flag draped over her walker that is standing next to him.
The PGR is the biker that will rider over 300 miles, praying to God to give him strength, so he can make it in time to have the honor of standing the flag line for the wake of a hero…Alone.
The PGR is having 250 bikes show up the next day in a town of 3500 people: Some riding hundreds of miles, staring at 0400…In the rain.
The PGR will be humbled when the color guard comes out to shake his hand for standing there alone, and tell them with confidence there will be more tomorrow.
The PGR is spending hours in a flag line in 90 degree heat, only later to find out the son of the guy standing next to you had committed suicide 6 months after returning from Iraq.
The PGR are the couple that served lunch to 286 bikers, refusing all donations. They are the grandparents of the solider that killed himself.
The PGR is “freebird57” from IL who drives around in his van, loaded with 135 flags and coolers of water and supplies for those standing the line along with him.
The PGR is the Viet Nam vet that was spit on when he returned, or the lady next to him whose brother was in the Battle of Bulge. Or it is 12 year old Taylor Batten, who had her first heart surgery at the age of 6 months. Taylor has had many surgeries in her past and will have many more in her future, which may not be that long. She is now a PFC USMC, and an honorary MI PGR Ride Captain.
The PGR is not a service group, we are not lobbyists. There are many fine organizations that do this work, and we heartily encourage your support.
The PGR is the biker that will ride over 200 miles in rain so bad he can barely see, and rides only by the taillights of those ahead of him, because the protestors will be at the funeral of PO1 Jerry Tharp in Galesburg IL. And he will not only consider it a privilege to have protestors scream in his face, shielding them form the family, but will consider it one of the proudest days of his life. And there are 329 people standing next to him feeling exactly the same way.
The PGR is the rider who could not think of any place he would rather be at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, than to stand at the gravesite of a friend’s father, on the anniversary of his passing. A father who earned the Silver Star in Korea for gallantry above and beyond the call of duty: A father whose family had no ideal what he had done and the award he had won, until they went through his belongings after his death.
If you do not fit in anywhere in the above, or you have another agenda, you might reconsider if you are in the right place. If you do, it will be my honor to stand with you anytime, anywhere.
And when the organizers of this parade ask how many PGR will be there, I will tell them there might be 100, but I will only guarantee one.
And if there is an Honor Mission for a fallen hero that I should attend, I will not be there either.
Being a PGR is not fun. It may well be one of the hardest things you will ever do.
You may have the mother of a fallen solider cry on your shoulder, thanking you for being there.
You may have a Marine, who has escorted his buddy from Afghanistan, stand at attention and salute you, with tears streaming down his f ace.
Being a PGR may not be fun, but you will never stand with better people. It may be one of the most rewarding things you will ever do, and without a doubt, it will change your life forever.
There were zero PGR 5 years ago. As of now, there are over 190,000. This growth has not come easy, and it is not perfect. And in case anybody misunderstands, I thought I should make it clear who the PGR are to me.
The PGR is the Hell's Angel that has held a flag for three hours in honor of a fallen solider.
The PGR is the Christian Motorcyclist Association rider that is standing next to him.
The PGR is the elderly lady with a flag draped over her walker that is standing next to him.
The PGR is the biker that will rider over 300 miles, praying to God to give him strength, so he can make it in time to have the honor of standing the flag line for the wake of a hero…Alone.
The PGR is having 250 bikes show up the next day in a town of 3500 people: Some riding hundreds of miles, staring at 0400…In the rain.
The PGR will be humbled when the color guard comes out to shake his hand for standing there alone, and tell them with confidence there will be more tomorrow.
The PGR is spending hours in a flag line in 90 degree heat, only later to find out the son of the guy standing next to you had committed suicide 6 months after returning from Iraq.
The PGR are the couple that served lunch to 286 bikers, refusing all donations. They are the grandparents of the solider that killed himself.
The PGR is “freebird57” from IL who drives around in his van, loaded with 135 flags and coolers of water and supplies for those standing the line along with him.
The PGR is the Viet Nam vet that was spit on when he returned, or the lady next to him whose brother was in the Battle of Bulge. Or it is 12 year old Taylor Batten, who had her first heart surgery at the age of 6 months. Taylor has had many surgeries in her past and will have many more in her future, which may not be that long. She is now a PFC USMC, and an honorary MI PGR Ride Captain.
The PGR is not a service group, we are not lobbyists. There are many fine organizations that do this work, and we heartily encourage your support.
The PGR is the biker that will ride over 200 miles in rain so bad he can barely see, and rides only by the taillights of those ahead of him, because the protestors will be at the funeral of PO1 Jerry Tharp in Galesburg IL. And he will not only consider it a privilege to have protestors scream in his face, shielding them form the family, but will consider it one of the proudest days of his life. And there are 329 people standing next to him feeling exactly the same way.
The PGR is the rider who could not think of any place he would rather be at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, than to stand at the gravesite of a friend’s father, on the anniversary of his passing. A father who earned the Silver Star in Korea for gallantry above and beyond the call of duty: A father whose family had no ideal what he had done and the award he had won, until they went through his belongings after his death.
If you do not fit in anywhere in the above, or you have another agenda, you might reconsider if you are in the right place. If you do, it will be my honor to stand with you anytime, anywhere.
And when the organizers of this parade ask how many PGR will be there, I will tell them there might be 100, but I will only guarantee one.
And if there is an Honor Mission for a fallen hero that I should attend, I will not be there either.
Being a PGR is not fun. It may well be one of the hardest things you will ever do.
You may have the mother of a fallen solider cry on your shoulder, thanking you for being there.
You may have a Marine, who has escorted his buddy from Afghanistan, stand at attention and salute you, with tears streaming down his f ace.
Being a PGR may not be fun, but you will never stand with better people. It may be one of the most rewarding things you will ever do, and without a doubt, it will change your life forever.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Another thought
He is a cute little rascal, guess we'll keep him.
Everett Archer Wilkins...try that 3 times real fast!
Quick thought
Thought I might share some pics...
Don't know what they did but he didn't like it much!
Life goes on!
Well, got a new roof this week and they did it for no out of pocket expense for me! Even absorded the insurance deductable and threw in a new chimney (wood was pressed wood and it had started to rot). While they were up there I had them install a power roof vent. It had a thermostat on it and I had them set it on 90 degrees. Can already tell a difference. Hope it stays that way when I get my next electric bill! Will also get some gutter for the front porch/garage...sounds good anyway! Daughter brought home the latest addition to the clan this week also. And we now have a name...Everett Archer. Sounds kinda highbrow to me but maybe he'll grow into it. Well it must be lunch time so I'll give a break and take a break. Thanks for listening.
Windy
Windy
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Another piece of cowboy wit!
Cookie
The cowboys all called him "cookie"; it was an appropriate dub,
'Cause he had been the one in charge of cookin' up the grub.
His day would start before sunrise, he'd be up and mixin' batter,
Them pancakes would stay with you, for these boys not much else would matter.
'Cause they had a hard day in the saddle to keep them cattle herded,
And they would try real hard not to spook 'em, 'cause they was mean if they got disconcerted.
Ol' "cookie" would break camp and then he'd leave 'em in his dust,
He'd find another campsite; to be ready for 'em was a must.
He'd have a Dutch oven full of biscuits and some gravy chocked with meat,
And when dinnertime was finally on 'em, they'd always have enough to eat.
After he'd clean up and load the chuck wagon, the routine would start again,
And he'd be off down the trail lookin' for sunset to begin.
The last meal of the day would find "cookie" goin' flat out,
He'd have steaks and beans and cornbread, he was really cookin', there was no doubt.
Now just how he managed to find new ways to fix that same ol' mess of beans,
Would always keep 'em guessin' but to complain would be downright mean.
After supper, they'd relax a bit around the ol' campfire,
'Cause the cows would all be bedded down, to keep 'em calm was their desire.
Now seems the quiet of the evenin' would get broke by a "musical interlude,"
But ol' "cookie," he'd just smile, he thought they was complimentin' his food.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
The cowboys all called him "cookie"; it was an appropriate dub,
'Cause he had been the one in charge of cookin' up the grub.
His day would start before sunrise, he'd be up and mixin' batter,
Them pancakes would stay with you, for these boys not much else would matter.
'Cause they had a hard day in the saddle to keep them cattle herded,
And they would try real hard not to spook 'em, 'cause they was mean if they got disconcerted.
Ol' "cookie" would break camp and then he'd leave 'em in his dust,
He'd find another campsite; to be ready for 'em was a must.
He'd have a Dutch oven full of biscuits and some gravy chocked with meat,
And when dinnertime was finally on 'em, they'd always have enough to eat.
After he'd clean up and load the chuck wagon, the routine would start again,
And he'd be off down the trail lookin' for sunset to begin.
The last meal of the day would find "cookie" goin' flat out,
He'd have steaks and beans and cornbread, he was really cookin', there was no doubt.
Now just how he managed to find new ways to fix that same ol' mess of beans,
Would always keep 'em guessin' but to complain would be downright mean.
After supper, they'd relax a bit around the ol' campfire,
'Cause the cows would all be bedded down, to keep 'em calm was their desire.
Now seems the quiet of the evenin' would get broke by a "musical interlude,"
But ol' "cookie," he'd just smile, he thought they was complimentin' his food.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
Saturday, July 17, 2010
New arrival
Well we added another to my growing list of grandkids today. His mama, daughter Autumn, went to the hospital this morning to see if they could turn the little rascal cause he was "breech", that's butt down or butt first. Well they had a little problem with that regard cause his little umbilical cord was wrapped around his little neck or was knotted up or something like that and so at 10:41am they took the little darlin' C-section. I think mama was relieved just to get on with it. Anyhow, everything worked out well for mom and kid. He's 19 1/2 inches long and weighs in at 7 lb. and 13 oz. That's heftier than big brother Lincoln was at birth but Lincoln got him by 2 inches at 21 something. Nice dark hair and long nails. Mama was drifting in and out when we were there, theys some nice drugs floating around in them hospitals, so we ain't got no name yet but whatever it is will be a doozy! Can hardly wait. Thank you Lord for prayers answered.
Windy
Windy
Friday, July 9, 2010
Interesting History
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 couldn't
even afford to buy a pot......they "didn't 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 and 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 whiskey. 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.
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 couldn't
even afford to buy a pot......they "didn't 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 and 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 whiskey. 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.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Politics?
Whether its real or not, I liked the sentiment.
April 17, 2009
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Washington, DC 20500
Mr. Obama:
I have had it with you and your administration, sir. Your conduct on
your recent trip overseas has convinced me that you are not an adequate
representative of the United States of America collectively or of me
personally.
You are so obsessed with appeasing the Europeans and the Muslim world that
you have abdicated the responsibilities of the President of the United
States of America . You are responsible to the citizens of the United
States . You are not responsible to the peoples of any other country on
earth.
I personally resent that you go around the world apologizing for the United
States telling Europeans that we are arrogant and do not care about their
status in the world. Sir, what do you think the First World War and the
Second World War were all about if not the consideration of the peoples of
Europe ? Are you brain dead? What do you think the Marshall Plan was all
about? Do you not understand or know the history of the 20th century?
Where do you get off telling a Muslim country that the United States
does not consider itself a Christian country? Have you not read the
Declaration of Independence or the Constitution of the United States ? This
country was founded on Judeo-Christian ethics and the principles governing
this country, at least until you came along, come directly from this
heritage. Do you not understand this?
Your bowing to the king of Saudi Arabia is an affront to all Americans. Our
President does not bow down to anyone, let alone the king of Saudi Arabia ..
. You didn't show Great Britain , our best and one of our oldest allies, the
respect they deserve yet you bow down to the king of Saudi Arabia .. How
dare you, sir! How dare you!
You can't find the time to visit the graves of our greatest generation
because you don't want to offend the Germans but make time to visit a mosque
in Turkey ...... You offended our dead and every veteran when you give
the Germans more respect than the people who saved the German people from
themselves. What's the matter with you? I am convinced that you and the
members of your administration have the historical and intellectual depth of
a mud puddle and should be ashamed of yourselves, all of you.
You are so self-righteously offended by the big bankers and the American
automobile manufacturers yet do nothing about the real thieves in this
situation, Mr. Dodd, Mr. Frank, Franklin Raines, Jamie Gorelic, the Fannie
Mae bonuses, and the Freddie Mac bonuses. What do you intend to do about
them? Anything? I seriously doubt it.
What about the U.S. House members passing out $9.1 million in bonuses to
their staff members on top of the $2..5 million in automatic pay raises that
lawmakers gave themselves? I understand the average House aide got a 17%
bonus. I took a 5% cut in my pay to save jobs with my employer. You haven
t said anything about that. Who authorized that? I surely didn't!
Executives at Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac will be receiving $210 million in
bonuses over an eighteen-month period, that's $45 million more than the AIG
bonuses. In fact, Fannie and Freddie executives have already been awarded
$51 million not a bad take. Who authorized that and why haven't you
expressed your outrage at this group who are largely responsible for the
economic mess we have right now?
I resent that you take me and my fellow citizens as brain-dead and not
caring about what you idiots do. We are watching what you are doing and we
are getting increasingly fed up with all of you.
I also want you to know that I personally find just about everything you do
and say to be offensive to every one of my sensibilities. I promise you
that I will work tirelessly to see that you do not get a chance to spend two
terms destroying my beautiful country.
Sincerely,
Every real American
April 17, 2009
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Washington, DC 20500
Mr. Obama:
I have had it with you and your administration, sir. Your conduct on
your recent trip overseas has convinced me that you are not an adequate
representative of the United States of America collectively or of me
personally.
You are so obsessed with appeasing the Europeans and the Muslim world that
you have abdicated the responsibilities of the President of the United
States of America . You are responsible to the citizens of the United
States . You are not responsible to the peoples of any other country on
earth.
I personally resent that you go around the world apologizing for the United
States telling Europeans that we are arrogant and do not care about their
status in the world. Sir, what do you think the First World War and the
Second World War were all about if not the consideration of the peoples of
Europe ? Are you brain dead? What do you think the Marshall Plan was all
about? Do you not understand or know the history of the 20th century?
Where do you get off telling a Muslim country that the United States
does not consider itself a Christian country? Have you not read the
Declaration of Independence or the Constitution of the United States ? This
country was founded on Judeo-Christian ethics and the principles governing
this country, at least until you came along, come directly from this
heritage. Do you not understand this?
Your bowing to the king of Saudi Arabia is an affront to all Americans. Our
President does not bow down to anyone, let alone the king of Saudi Arabia ..
. You didn't show Great Britain , our best and one of our oldest allies, the
respect they deserve yet you bow down to the king of Saudi Arabia .. How
dare you, sir! How dare you!
You can't find the time to visit the graves of our greatest generation
because you don't want to offend the Germans but make time to visit a mosque
in Turkey ...... You offended our dead and every veteran when you give
the Germans more respect than the people who saved the German people from
themselves. What's the matter with you? I am convinced that you and the
members of your administration have the historical and intellectual depth of
a mud puddle and should be ashamed of yourselves, all of you.
You are so self-righteously offended by the big bankers and the American
automobile manufacturers yet do nothing about the real thieves in this
situation, Mr. Dodd, Mr. Frank, Franklin Raines, Jamie Gorelic, the Fannie
Mae bonuses, and the Freddie Mac bonuses. What do you intend to do about
them? Anything? I seriously doubt it.
What about the U.S. House members passing out $9.1 million in bonuses to
their staff members on top of the $2..5 million in automatic pay raises that
lawmakers gave themselves? I understand the average House aide got a 17%
bonus. I took a 5% cut in my pay to save jobs with my employer. You haven
t said anything about that. Who authorized that? I surely didn't!
Executives at Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac will be receiving $210 million in
bonuses over an eighteen-month period, that's $45 million more than the AIG
bonuses. In fact, Fannie and Freddie executives have already been awarded
$51 million not a bad take. Who authorized that and why haven't you
expressed your outrage at this group who are largely responsible for the
economic mess we have right now?
I resent that you take me and my fellow citizens as brain-dead and not
caring about what you idiots do. We are watching what you are doing and we
are getting increasingly fed up with all of you.
I also want you to know that I personally find just about everything you do
and say to be offensive to every one of my sensibilities. I promise you
that I will work tirelessly to see that you do not get a chance to spend two
terms destroying my beautiful country.
Sincerely,
Every real American
Monday, June 28, 2010
Just a little food for thought.
All I’m Teachin' Ya'
Son, I think its time to tell ya' about some things ya' need to learn,
Like don't never stick yer tongue to ice 'n' how the sun can sometimes burn.
'N' about how you'll get a headache drinkin' too fast from the well,
'N' how it is that a woman looks so 'n' how she's built so’s you can tell.
When to tip your hat to a lady 'n' when to whomp one on the behind,
'N' how to get yer point across when she cain't read yer mind.
How to pick ya' out a nice spot when ya' take yerself a sot,
'N' to remember to remove yer spurs afore you decide to squat.
Just remember to pick a good ’un 'n' look her over with yer good eye,
'Cause it ain't agoin' to go too well if you recline on a cacti.
'N' while we're on this here subject; I’m tellin' ya' best scout around near 'n' far,
'Cause once ya' been snakebit down there, you'll soon find out who yer friends are.
Lord knows they're ain't no dadgum limit on the things I’m atellin' you,
So just pay attention to me till I tell ya' that we're through.
Now when it comes to workin' them horses lots of things they can occur,
Just make sure that the only thing under yer saddle is yer blanket 'n' not an old burr.
'N' make sure to count yer fingers 'n' maybe whisper a little prayer,
After ya' take a turn on yer dally rope ya' better hope that they're all there.
Now they're ain't no two ways about it, this bein' a cowboy can be a good life,
But if ya' don't learn all that I’ve taught ya', ya' better hope you find a “good
wife.”
Robert Lea Lovejoy

Son, I think its time to tell ya' about some things ya' need to learn,
Like don't never stick yer tongue to ice 'n' how the sun can sometimes burn.
'N' about how you'll get a headache drinkin' too fast from the well,
'N' how it is that a woman looks so 'n' how she's built so’s you can tell.
When to tip your hat to a lady 'n' when to whomp one on the behind,
'N' how to get yer point across when she cain't read yer mind.
How to pick ya' out a nice spot when ya' take yerself a sot,
'N' to remember to remove yer spurs afore you decide to squat.
Just remember to pick a good ’un 'n' look her over with yer good eye,
'Cause it ain't agoin' to go too well if you recline on a cacti.
'N' while we're on this here subject; I’m tellin' ya' best scout around near 'n' far,
'Cause once ya' been snakebit down there, you'll soon find out who yer friends are.
Lord knows they're ain't no dadgum limit on the things I’m atellin' you,
So just pay attention to me till I tell ya' that we're through.
Now when it comes to workin' them horses lots of things they can occur,
Just make sure that the only thing under yer saddle is yer blanket 'n' not an old burr.
'N' make sure to count yer fingers 'n' maybe whisper a little prayer,
After ya' take a turn on yer dally rope ya' better hope that they're all there.
Now they're ain't no two ways about it, this bein' a cowboy can be a good life,
But if ya' don't learn all that I’ve taught ya', ya' better hope you find a “good
wife.”
Robert Lea Lovejoy

Saturday, June 26, 2010
Ben, this one is for us!
Hopes and Memories
We never got to do those things we always talked about,
How you loved those dreams left little doubt.
Those pictures that you conjured up made my joy flow too,
Log cabins in the mountains were just you.
All the trips we planned to take like that Alaskan RV cruise,
You never even had the right to choose.
To travel on together was what I had counted on,
Not this shelf that I’ve been mounted on.
Your glue held me together and kept me coming home,
You never even caused my eye to roam.
I’ve cried myself to sleep now more often than I’ll admit,
Somehow your spirit won’t let me quit.
I promised that I would take good care of all your girls,
But I ain’t been too good with the curls.
They don’t really need me anymore they all act real grown up,
But sometimes that means I get shown up.
They are all real smart, you knew that, and all are pretty too,
But I’m tired I just want to go home to you.
So don’t you hold it against me if someday soon I knock on your door,
We’ll walk hand in hand again, forevermore.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
July, 2003
We never got to do those things we always talked about,
How you loved those dreams left little doubt.
Those pictures that you conjured up made my joy flow too,
Log cabins in the mountains were just you.
All the trips we planned to take like that Alaskan RV cruise,
You never even had the right to choose.
To travel on together was what I had counted on,
Not this shelf that I’ve been mounted on.
Your glue held me together and kept me coming home,
You never even caused my eye to roam.
I’ve cried myself to sleep now more often than I’ll admit,
Somehow your spirit won’t let me quit.
I promised that I would take good care of all your girls,
But I ain’t been too good with the curls.
They don’t really need me anymore they all act real grown up,
But sometimes that means I get shown up.
They are all real smart, you knew that, and all are pretty too,
But I’m tired I just want to go home to you.
So don’t you hold it against me if someday soon I knock on your door,
We’ll walk hand in hand again, forevermore.
Robert Lea Lovejoy
July, 2003
Travails of the open road
Well, took the grandkids to the park today and let them ride the train! One of the boys was wide eyed, the other fell asleep before the end. Oh well, I think they enjoyed themselves anyway. Gave it a ride (the train) early this morning before the heat settled in for the day. Was still warm but enjoyable. I rode the Harley and greeted a lot of people with a smile and a wave. Even had a couple that I think would have come for a ride. Seemed to enjoy the "hog". Had a run in the other day with a "cage" who wanted my lane. Went for the air horn to let her know this lane was occupied and she was gone...the air horn! Replaced it pretty quick, like being heard out there! I was on my way to the National Cemetery for the funeral of a kid killed in Iraq that had only been there for 20 days when he stepped on an IED. Noticed when she passed me that her car was what the military calls Killed in Action, they call it a Kia! Thought that if she couldn't be a little more mindful of what she was doing on the roads she might end up killed in action herself! Had another funeral yesterday before the rain. We were on the hiway when a "honey wagon" pulled in front of us. That's a septic system pumper! About that time we started getting spit on and my first thought since I didn't know if it was rain or a leaking pumper truck was don't lick your lips!
Well, have a nice day and be careful out there!
Windy
Well, have a nice day and be careful out there!
Windy
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Scratching deep in the grey matter
I've had a few jobs in my lifetime...so don't begrudge me my memories, that's all I got!
I…got a job working for a road construction company in Dallas off Industrial Blvd. near downtown. It was a summer job, I was going back to school in the fall, so I thought. My buddy Doyle got me the job, he had worked there for several summers. Knew I was gonna be in trouble on the first day when they put me on an asphalt laying crew and told me to go broom off the water on the side of the road so they could lay some asphalt there. I kinda wondered why everyone else had grungy boots covered in caked on asphalt and I only had tennis shoes. Got my feet wet brooming the water and then they put me to shoveling hot asphalt…it comes out of the cooker at 2 hundred and some degrees. Hot stuff! I jumped right in and shoveled with the best of them. My shoes started steaming from being wet but they dried out soon. Didn’t discover till that evening when I pulled off my shoes just how blistered my feet were. Bought some boots! Never did work the asphalt crew again.
They sent me down south to work on a freeway system there. Watched a steam roller get loose and barrel down an off ramp toward the bottom. Then we noticed a kid hanging on for dear life and riding her to the bottom. They gave me a pickup truck that had a gas operated power broom hitched up to it. I was to broom off the shoulder of the road so they could shoot some tack and spread gravel down on it. (Tack is what they called the hot tar they spread). Was doing alright till the danged thing died. I had a 55 gallon drum of gas in the back of the pickup and so I filled the broom’s gas tank and prepared to start it again. You had to straddle the tire and give the hand crank a might twist. This thing was so old that it had a gravity fed glass bowl above the carburetor that had to fill with gas before starting it. Well, I hadn’t shut off the valve so the glass bowl was into overfilling and dumping all that overflow into the carburetor. I cranked and cranked to no avail because, I assume now, that that carburetor was flooded. Well I finally got some reaction from the piece of junk when the crank hung, then the engine backfired, pitching me off the tire and into the dirt on my back causing all my breath to be knocked right out of me.
Well, I was busy nurturing myself and hadn’t notice that the backfire through the carburetor had caused a fire! I grabbed some rags from the back of the pickup and began flailing them at the growing flames. All I did was catch the rags on fire and begin spreading the fires to several different locations with each swat. I then tried stuffing various rags in amongst the flames in hopes of denying oxygen and snuffing out the flames…wrong. The tenacious blaze simply engulfed my offerings and rekindled to new heights. Lastly, in final desperation, I heaved a couple of handfuls of dirt at the worsening flames and then turned my thoughts to disconnecting the pickup from the inferno that was growing when I remembered the full gas tank I had just filled. Didn’t want to lose a second piece of equipment and my ride. I left the blazing broom sending plumes of smoke skyward and headed back to tell the tack truck guys what had happened.
I pulled up on the opposite side of the road facing the opposite direction and one of the crew yelled for me to back up and give the tack engine some gas. I crammed her into gear and started back. Some idiot had picked that particular time to pull to a stop right behind me with his snack truck. My pickup had a load of sand in the back with the tailgate down. I crumpled the front end of that truck with the tailgate. They sent me to the house driving a old flatbed truck that had all kinds of equipment in it. This thing had some problems as well. You couldn’t dim the lights with the dimmer switch on the floor or the whole electrical system would shut down. So in order to operate with the bright lights on all the time and not offend other drivers some genius and simply duct taped half the headlights so it would still function. It was late, I was tired. I had noticed that broom handle sticking out way too far beyond the bed of the truck but I paid it no more attention until I traveled across the white line on a long sweeping left curve as a Greyhound bus approached. I thought I had come to enough to retreat back to my lane when I heard the whack. When I looked in the rearview mirror the broom handle was gone and the bus was pulling over onto the shoulder. I floor boarded it meaning I stomped the accelerator.
Didn’t go back on that crew again. They sent me out to run a sheep foot and do some compacting on newly graded roadways. Now a sheep foot is a big heavy round apparatus with feet of steel that tamps down freshly graded dirt in preparation for laying asphalt. I had driven this tractor before and its brakes were shot. You had to stomp on them to get the dumb thing to stop. Well I was doing okay till they hollered its lunch time. They told me to take it down the hill and park it in front of the road grader. Started down the hill with some speed in anticipation of some grub when I remembered the brakes. Began to pump the pedal, began to stomp the pedal, began to apply both feet to the pedal, began to jump up and down on the pedal. Then a flash of brilliance hit me. I’d just steer it around the obstructions and onto the flat and wait for gravity and lack of momentum to slow us. About that time is when the heavy load I told you about began to make itself known. It came to bear on the hitch of the tractor causing the front tire, the steering tire, to suddenly raise off the ground. With steering gone I settled in for the ride and noticed we are headed for the front end of that road grader. Hit with a mighty jolt. Steering wheel just spun having sheered all semblance of remaining mechanisms in the process.
After lunch they assigned me to a road grading crew, probably figuring I couldn’t get into trouble with anymore equipment standing on the ground. My job was to tell the guy running the grader what to do, that is, whether to fill in or grade off the dirt of the roadway. Simple you say. Well, they gave me a folding wooden ruler to take measurements with and told me to be careful with it as that was the only one they had. I promised and then as I walked off the unfolded end somehow got between my striding legs and snapped in two.
They brought me out a pick slip on the spot. I was fired!
I…got a job working for a road construction company in Dallas off Industrial Blvd. near downtown. It was a summer job, I was going back to school in the fall, so I thought. My buddy Doyle got me the job, he had worked there for several summers. Knew I was gonna be in trouble on the first day when they put me on an asphalt laying crew and told me to go broom off the water on the side of the road so they could lay some asphalt there. I kinda wondered why everyone else had grungy boots covered in caked on asphalt and I only had tennis shoes. Got my feet wet brooming the water and then they put me to shoveling hot asphalt…it comes out of the cooker at 2 hundred and some degrees. Hot stuff! I jumped right in and shoveled with the best of them. My shoes started steaming from being wet but they dried out soon. Didn’t discover till that evening when I pulled off my shoes just how blistered my feet were. Bought some boots! Never did work the asphalt crew again.
They sent me down south to work on a freeway system there. Watched a steam roller get loose and barrel down an off ramp toward the bottom. Then we noticed a kid hanging on for dear life and riding her to the bottom. They gave me a pickup truck that had a gas operated power broom hitched up to it. I was to broom off the shoulder of the road so they could shoot some tack and spread gravel down on it. (Tack is what they called the hot tar they spread). Was doing alright till the danged thing died. I had a 55 gallon drum of gas in the back of the pickup and so I filled the broom’s gas tank and prepared to start it again. You had to straddle the tire and give the hand crank a might twist. This thing was so old that it had a gravity fed glass bowl above the carburetor that had to fill with gas before starting it. Well, I hadn’t shut off the valve so the glass bowl was into overfilling and dumping all that overflow into the carburetor. I cranked and cranked to no avail because, I assume now, that that carburetor was flooded. Well I finally got some reaction from the piece of junk when the crank hung, then the engine backfired, pitching me off the tire and into the dirt on my back causing all my breath to be knocked right out of me.
Well, I was busy nurturing myself and hadn’t notice that the backfire through the carburetor had caused a fire! I grabbed some rags from the back of the pickup and began flailing them at the growing flames. All I did was catch the rags on fire and begin spreading the fires to several different locations with each swat. I then tried stuffing various rags in amongst the flames in hopes of denying oxygen and snuffing out the flames…wrong. The tenacious blaze simply engulfed my offerings and rekindled to new heights. Lastly, in final desperation, I heaved a couple of handfuls of dirt at the worsening flames and then turned my thoughts to disconnecting the pickup from the inferno that was growing when I remembered the full gas tank I had just filled. Didn’t want to lose a second piece of equipment and my ride. I left the blazing broom sending plumes of smoke skyward and headed back to tell the tack truck guys what had happened.
I pulled up on the opposite side of the road facing the opposite direction and one of the crew yelled for me to back up and give the tack engine some gas. I crammed her into gear and started back. Some idiot had picked that particular time to pull to a stop right behind me with his snack truck. My pickup had a load of sand in the back with the tailgate down. I crumpled the front end of that truck with the tailgate. They sent me to the house driving a old flatbed truck that had all kinds of equipment in it. This thing had some problems as well. You couldn’t dim the lights with the dimmer switch on the floor or the whole electrical system would shut down. So in order to operate with the bright lights on all the time and not offend other drivers some genius and simply duct taped half the headlights so it would still function. It was late, I was tired. I had noticed that broom handle sticking out way too far beyond the bed of the truck but I paid it no more attention until I traveled across the white line on a long sweeping left curve as a Greyhound bus approached. I thought I had come to enough to retreat back to my lane when I heard the whack. When I looked in the rearview mirror the broom handle was gone and the bus was pulling over onto the shoulder. I floor boarded it meaning I stomped the accelerator.
Didn’t go back on that crew again. They sent me out to run a sheep foot and do some compacting on newly graded roadways. Now a sheep foot is a big heavy round apparatus with feet of steel that tamps down freshly graded dirt in preparation for laying asphalt. I had driven this tractor before and its brakes were shot. You had to stomp on them to get the dumb thing to stop. Well I was doing okay till they hollered its lunch time. They told me to take it down the hill and park it in front of the road grader. Started down the hill with some speed in anticipation of some grub when I remembered the brakes. Began to pump the pedal, began to stomp the pedal, began to apply both feet to the pedal, began to jump up and down on the pedal. Then a flash of brilliance hit me. I’d just steer it around the obstructions and onto the flat and wait for gravity and lack of momentum to slow us. About that time is when the heavy load I told you about began to make itself known. It came to bear on the hitch of the tractor causing the front tire, the steering tire, to suddenly raise off the ground. With steering gone I settled in for the ride and noticed we are headed for the front end of that road grader. Hit with a mighty jolt. Steering wheel just spun having sheered all semblance of remaining mechanisms in the process.
After lunch they assigned me to a road grading crew, probably figuring I couldn’t get into trouble with anymore equipment standing on the ground. My job was to tell the guy running the grader what to do, that is, whether to fill in or grade off the dirt of the roadway. Simple you say. Well, they gave me a folding wooden ruler to take measurements with and told me to be careful with it as that was the only one they had. I promised and then as I walked off the unfolded end somehow got between my striding legs and snapped in two.
They brought me out a pick slip on the spot. I was fired!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Just how I stand.
Well...I was bugged to do this thing, so I guess here goes. I am and ever more shall be...a Texan! I've had all kinds of jobs and enjoyed most of them, from chuckwagon helper to aircraft mechanic. I am a conservative since I figure my right to freedom is given by the constitution and the government of the people, for the people and by the people should not be infringe on that freedom. I guess then that I lean a little toward the Republican slant of things, which to me means less government! I kinda figure them boys ought to be around when you need them and out of your way when you don't. Tried to instill same in my kids...don't know if it stuck or not! Had a beautiful wife and four beautiful daughters, some of whom are off having families of their own. But before this stretches on a bit too far, I'll just save some for later.
Windy Bob
Windy Bob
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