Sunday, December 31, 2006

Out with the old........ with the New Year.

It's 10:52 on the eve of the New Year.

No racous parties here at the kdzu homesite. Well, Young Frankenstein is on the tube. I love the scene where while holding Terri Garr, whatisname says what huge knockers. And she titters (sorry) and says "why thank you".

I guess I should be thinking of how I need to change things for the new year. Sorry, I tend to do most things on the spur of the moment. No forethought. Very little planning.

Neal Boortz is fond of saying that continuing to do the same thing, over and over, and expecting to get a different result is the defination of insanity. Well there are some who have had doubts about my sanity for many years. Some would include me. They even pay me a little based on that.

Boortz has had some influence on my libertarian leanings over the years. All right, I confess that I did vote for Regan and Bush I & II. The alternatives scared the living hell out of me and still do. But I'm on medication and am doing much better now . They've cured me of thinking that any of the members of our two national parties are worthy of a vote, even to keep out the demons at the door.

I often said that we should have Jimbo Peanut, so the country and economy could collapse and we might be on the path back to constituiional protections of our God give rights. A pipe dream I guess, but at least we wouldn't be actin insanely every four years.

But as is my wont, I digress. This post is supposed to be about how I want to change things inso far as I have power in the coming New Year.

I will not stoop to making resolutions. Those are quickly forgotten or ignored. I'll simply state a few of my goals. All the so called self improvement gurus say you must write them down for you to have a chance of keeping them. Let this be considered my list for 2007.

I will endevor to loose 20 lbs this year. Maybe by next christmas I'll be able to wear a 34 waist pants again.

I will make time to tell those important to me that I love them.

I will save more money. Cutting out the soft drinks and candybar every time I pass a convenience store would help quite a bit there.

I will give service to someone I don't know who needs it.

I will take the steps outlined in all the courses and classes I have paid good money for over the years. Just the money back that I paid for them would come to a tidy sum.

After denying for years that money does not interest me, I confess that it is a strong driving force in my life. I will not be a slave to the pittance that social security claims awaits me in the next 10 years. I might not live that long.

I will strive to better the lives of those I come in contact with.

I will speak out about the insanity that I see around me. Who cares if people are offended. "Stupid is as stupid does", according to Mister Gump. If you can't poke fun at the emporer once in a while, who will tell them their walking around without any clothes? If they can't take a little laughter what good are they anyway?

There are many things that need changing, but let's take it a little slowly at first shall we.

Anyway, a start on some goals for the New Year.

First I've got to clean out a little of the kudzu patch and see where I'm standing. It might be that I'm not on a hill but in a bog.

Happy New Year. And as Tiny Tim said, "God Bless us Everyone", and especially bloggers, many of whome have been very kind to me.

Or was that "Tiptoe thru the Tulips"

Blame it on the drugs.

Friday, December 29, 2006

Prayer Call

Hey Guys, lets send a few prayers up for LL and th’ kiddies OK?

I mean she's always asking for other people. Why not her and th' monkeys for a change.

Can't hurt. Now come on, you know it doesn't.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006


..........what a feeling.

To wake on a beautiful winter morning. Get dressed, and step outside onto the back deck.

The leaves have all fallen and create a brown blanket on the ground. The sun is just coming up in the east. The sky is that beutiful tourquise blue you only get on a crisp winter day, without a cloud in the sky.
The air is clean and breath deeply.......satisfied all is right in the world.

You step out confidently, head up, shoulders back, ready to meet what ever life throws at you. Nothing can mar this feeling........


.......your foot reaches the ramp and the frost formed during the night, and..... wind up with both feet and both arms up in the air as you lay there on your back like a whore at a gangbang, wondering how in the hell did I get down here?

In slow motion you feel your head bounce off the plywood.....once.... twice. Your heels thud to the floor and you say to I OK? and the answer comes at once, unbidden........No! Then thankfully as your body does a quick systems check, quicker than thought, the second answer..........but, I will be.

Thankfully, my head is harder than my ass, which by tomorrow will sport, I'm sure, the beginnings of a nice bruise.

Black ice. It'll get you quick as kudzu, or quicker.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Let sleeping dogs lie.......

.....a comment on one of Eric's posts reminded me that when I was small my mother related an old wives' tale. Supposedly if you would go up to a sleeping dog when you could see it dreaming, by the whimpering and jerking of legs, and touch it without wakeing it up, you would dream what the dog had dreamed that night.

She told us of how, when she was a small girl she had opportunity to touch a sleeping dog not too long after the annual hog killing and butchering.
Supposedly that night she dreamed of pulling hog guts thru a cattle wire fence with her teeth. Whee!, wouldn't that make you wake up in a cold sweat?

At that time (I was probably 9 or 10 yrs of age) I had a dog named frisky, part collie and part mutt. I loved that dog. She went everywhere I went. I can remember falling asleep in the hay shed with her cuddled up beside me. An inseperable companion except when I was in the house. Mom and Dad had very strict rules about dogs in the house.

One sunny day, late in the summer, I spied Frisky asleep in the grass on the circle in front of the dairy barn, as I left the barn heading to the house to have supper.

Somehow I got the bright idea that it would be great fun to sneak up on Frisky and suprise her and wake her up by shouting and leaping upon her, to which I anticipated a friendly game of chase to ensue.

I know.........
...A little unaware of the ways of the world, and sleeping dogs......., suddenly awakened.

As I shouted and leapt upon her.....

..........she, startled out of a nice sound sleep, and probably dreaming of protecting the farmstead, rolled on her back and struck out with both back feet, raking them from my nipples to my jeans, snarling and growling like she was attacking a bear.

Let me assure you. Most of the time it is best to let sleeping dogs lie. Or wind up like me bleeding profusely and carrying the scars for many years.


The Fat Man has sung, and I survived all the feasting and gifting.

Oh boy, did we eat. From the time I arrived Sunday afternoon till after dark last night. Sugar cookies, crab dip and puffs, turkey from the rotisserie, ham from the oven glazed with Coke_a_Cola, cranberry relish, cream corn tasted fresh off the cob. We had banana pudding (homemade not out of a can) cakes, pies. There was a beautiful ginger bread house, and many more goods than I had room to eat or remember.

I received a gentle hint (not intentional, I'm sure) to loose weight, when I received several pair of jeans 34 in waist instead of 36.
An ergonomical key pad which I'm using now and trying to get used too. may have to rearange the desk drawer and the keypad shelf so it will fit. An executive Parker pen befitting my status as man of the world and blogging fool.

But most of all, I was blessed to be surrounded by the love of my family, All of them I'm so happy to report, even if some had to be visited on Sunday, which made it a most memorable and merry Christmas.

Now to begin the annual diet regime of pistachio nuts and too much chocolate to eat untill all gone. Pistachio nuts will clean you out like a coffee enema. After which perhaps I'll get serious about getting into those pants.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Merry Christmas

Well, perhaps this will put to rest the rumors of my demise.

Nothing much to report on. Hence no blogging. I promise to try to do better.

Had a birthday yesterday. I'm now officially..........

...........wait for it.......

........old enough to know better.

Wish I did. I seem to make the same old mistakes over and over.
Like trying to train a full grown mule. First you have to get his attention by whacking him between the eyes and knocking him to his knees. Then the lessons can begin.

Where does middle age begin now?? Used to be forty, but now maybe 60. Sure hope so.

Looking forward to the Christmas get together at my daughters. Lots of the family and friends will be there and we'll all eat too much.

Till then; to all my friends both old and new.

Merry Christmas and Prayers sent that you'll all have a very happy NEW YEAR!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Sometimes your heart..........

........wants to burst with pride at the concern and love of your fellow countrymen.

Stolen with appreciation from This Guy go and read : This

see if you don't agree.

Thursday, December 14, 2006


Hear yea, hear yea! Blogger Beta is not allowing people to comment to my rants. This just purely irks the living hell out of me.
Supposedly they are working on it. Whoever the hell they are.
Ya think you would get better service when you don't have to pay for it.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Read this and pass it along

I know how THIS guy feels. And this one . Hopeless, hamstrung, ignored and most of all dishonored by those who sent him.
And they wonder why we come back full of rage, hatred, blind and burning disgust, and an urge to cause harm to worthless REMF's.
We wonder why most people can't see what is as plain as the fists you clench in viscous rage.
We hold in our tears, we make jokes about it, but we don't forget. We can't. We won't.
I think the epitath I'd like put on my tombstone is........


That way, someone 200 or 300 years from now, if not sooner, will see it and say, "He wasn't quite as crazy as he looked".

Someone, I wish I knew who said, "those who will not learn from history, are doomed to repeat it.

If you're my age and participated in the late great Southeast Asia War Games, my sympathies for your having to relive history. If you're to young to understand that, find a Viet Vet. If they be of any intelligence, and have a modicum of communication skills, perhaps you'll come away changed. Perhaps you'll begin to see things with wiser eyes.

I'd weep if I thought it would do any good. I'd blow my brains out or set myself on fire, if I thought it would wake a sleeping giant up.

But I'm only a small speck upon this revolving bit of mud in a vast creation. In the long run.........what will it have mattered?

If there is a God, I wonder what he's thinking about his creation man, who stands only a little below the Angels.

The Kudzu is lush and green tonight. At least the velvety leaves can be used to dry my old, red eyes.

Monday, December 11, 2006

A little.........

..........Giggle at the end of the day.

Stolen from.......Anglelove

Two elderly friends, Bill and Sam, met in the park every day to feed
the pigeons, watch the squirrels and discuss world problems.

One day Bill didn't show up. Sam didn't think much about it, figured maybe
he had a cold or some such.

But after Bill hadn't shown up for a week or so Sam really got worried.
However, since the only time they ever got together was at the park, Sam
didn't know where Bill lived so he was unable to find out what had
happened to him.

A month had past and Sam figured he had seen the last of Bill, but one day
Sam approached the park and lo and behold there sat Bill!

Sam was very excited and happy to see him and told him so. Then he said,
"For crying out loud Bill, what in the world happened to you?"

Bill replied, "I have been in jail."

"Jail?" cried Sam!! "What in the world for?"

"Well," Bill said, "you know Sue, that cute little blonde waitress at the
coffee shop where we sometimes get coffee?"

Yeah" said Sam, I remember her. What about her?"

"Well one day she charged me with rape and I was so proud that when I
got into court, I pled "guilty" and the judge gave me 30 days for

I've always........

......loved Kirk Douglas. As as actor, and a man.

just reaffirms that he's a pretty good ol' boy who learned a few lessons on his journey.

He's right of course. The current generation with the most influence and power has the responsibility to act not only in their best interests but the intrests of the next.

If this country would stop trying to micromanage the moment and plan more for the future, we'd be better off.

Course just look at the a**holes we elect.

Question do we get the government we deserve????

Love to get some response from a few of the 10 or so people who pass thru here each day.

If you don't......

........the Kudzu will get you!

Sunday, December 10, 2006

If you don't..........

.......write for a week does that make you less of a blogger.

Lately it seems that some few of the regulars I have been reading have slowed down on their production quite a lot.
Yours truly included.

I could blame it on the rush and hassle of the holidays and the season and all.

It's not like there is nothing going in on the hill lately. The kudzu continues to grow apace. Some days more growth than others. Lately its been coolish hereabouts and the days are shorter so not so much.

Of course I could blog about the lack of decency shown by some of our pop idiots, er I mean idols such as Brittney’s latest. I wonder what old Walt Disney thinks about this?

The nude human form is infinite and varied. I don't give a rats ass if you choose to go around naked all day. If Sophia Loren in her prime walked by naked as the day she was born, all I'd do is admire for a moment and ask if she needed a coat or anything. Unless of course she made it plain the she had amorous designs on my person. Then of course out of courtesy and lust I'd have to try my best to oblige. (Yeah, like that would happen). But, even in my younger days I was able to control the one-eyed pajama snake, or the old velvet headed dragon. Probably due to my protected upbringing, or perhaps seeing the cows and bull, the dogs, the cats and all of nature doing it and thereby testifying to the time and the place being appropriate.

But the sheer audacity of using a shaven puss as a way to grab media attention and hopefully another shot at the lime light is obscene in the ultimate sense.

There must be something left to the imagination to keep your interest. If it's all revealed for the world to see and laught at it looses its value and should and ultimately will be discarded as yesterdays newspaper. Fit only to wrap fish entrails in to be tossed into the garbage can of life.

Such a shame. She, a beautiful girl, with a modicum of talent, has been seduced by the dark side.

Bet the kudzu is green and lush in her mind and soul.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Look ma. No Hands

Stolen from GOC.

href=>What military aircraft are you?

F-15 Eagle

You are an F-15. Your record in combat is spotless; you've never been defeated. You possess good looks, but are not flashy about it. You prefer to let your reputation do the talking. You are fast, agile, and loud, but reaching the end of your stardom.

Personality Test Results

Click Here to Take This Quiz
Brought to you by quizzes and personality tests.

Reaching the end of my stardom.........WTF. What do they know.

Do they know where the wild kudzu grows?

Sunday, December 03, 2006

What a weekend........


leave at 7:30 am to go pick up a used Jag at a pawnshop. Hope I don't wind up burned on this one. Good price though. Should be able to turn for about 100% or so.

........Then carefully drive to gas station for gas (did you know these SOBs have to have premium gas. Thank goodness gas has come down from the highs. $2.28 at WalMart in Commerce.

Race up to former post office where they were holding important mail.....

.........To the bank at Ingles ( don't you love the convenience).......

......Pick up 11.5 lb sirloin tip sliced 1/2 nches thick.........

.........Back home to put the computer in the shop for virus and software problems (couldn't access HP director to download pictures from camera card).

........hurry home to begin chopping sirloin into 1/2 in sq. cubes......

.....Gonna make ......
.............World famous, Championship chili for company in evening. Two of my sisters and one brother-in-law with his daughter.

Now if I were (I'm not) to give out the recepie for this chili, I'd have to kill you and then commit ritual sepku, in atonement. But I will let you know that the sirloin is one ingrediant, then 5 large yellow onions, chopped (depends on how much meat your cooking), 2 large cans Roteil (white label) chopped tomatoes and peppers.

Cooking time.....till done.

Notice I did not mention any water, or beans.
Nor did I give any hint at super secret spice ingridents. So your safe for the moment.

Race back to the Computer store to pick up fixed computer and printer......
.,..back home to check on Chili, mix up and fry (in a skillet with bacon grease, which is the only way real should be fixed)cornbread.....
....welcome guests and show off Jag to brother-in-law. Engage in plesant conversation until the Chile is ready......

.....Then to table, to listen with modest pride to chorus of appreciation of culinary skills. At which table we also solve all the worlds problems, to include, wars, politics, child rearing, religous disssention, and how to win friends and influence people.

A most pleasant time had by all, but I was the most lucky. I didn't have to drive 40 minutes home.

.......and that was just Saturday. Maybe later I'll get to Sunday.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Just go.................

............Here and read.
I know that most of my readers already read *Denny* but if you don't, at least read this one.
If you disagree, I would love to have a respectful discussion of it in my comments.

And if you agree, maybe you would consider passing it along.

It is a forgone conclusion of mine (IMOA) that change will have to come thru the people. Our elected scumbags, er, uh, I mean elected servants are too far gone down the primrose path to be of any use except as backstops.

The life has almost been choked from the once mighty oak. will we stop the spread of the kudzu in time?

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

I wish.............

..................I could say it like this

Why in the world..........

............did these idjits complain when they were escorted off the plane? They knew exactly what they were guilty of and what the expected reaction would be.

Had I been one of the other passengers on the plane I'd have sworn out a warrant for terroristic threats on their asses and tried my damnedest to see they at least served a night in jail.

And now they have the gall to protest and hold prayer-ins to complain of discrimation?

Common sense would tell a sky marshal to shoot them all. Only political correctness prohibits the use of a little common sense.

OOOhhhh the tangles are thick.

Monday, November 27, 2006

What is your idea............

......of Retirement?

What would it take for you to hang up the old J. O. B. and tell them to kiss where the sun doesn't shine?

I've held exactly three public jobs in my life after the Army. I hated them all.
I hated to be held to a schedule, to be expected to meet quotas, to bow at the alter of Mammon.

Don't get me wrong I like having money and the things you can do with it. I just would prefer to gather it in my own way and time.

Has this caused some weeping, wailing and gnashing of theeth around the old campfire. Oh hell yes, many times.

I'm not too many years away from that magical day when the government in its infinite wisdom has decreed they will give me a little stipend in return for being a good little worker bee for at least 10 quarters.

I know none of you gentle readers are so dumb as to think you might be able to survive on their largess.

But how do you intend to survive and prosper into your dottage. Will we be at the end a burden on our children? Huuuuummmmm?

Truly it is written:

A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children:
and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just.

Any way, it would be interestin' to learn what your dream of retirement consists of.

Mine would be to continue to use what little grey matter between my ears as long as I can.

The Comment line is open...............

Don't let the kudzu hold you back.

It came.......... my mind today, that I have a vicious burning hatred for left-wing, liberal moonbats.

Those who spout the retoric of anti-americanism, anti-war even if you were attacked first, because of course we have treated the rest of the world like our playground and never done any good for anyone we've come in contact with, anti good old captalist free enterprise, all men are created equal but after that it's up to you to pull your own weight and hate like hell anyone wanting to take what you've created, built up, earned on your own, and give it to those less foortuunut, just because they don't want to give out of their own pocket, if they can get the government to take it from some one else just to make them feel good.........Them, Those, those f**kers.

It's a damn good (for them) thing that I choose to restrain myself from unleashing unholy hell on them. I'm sure my lust for destruction would overwhelm me, and I would only stop when stopped by even more overwhelming violence (from my prospective).

I just need to get that out in the open, so as to see what it looks like in the light of day, to see if examination would change my opinion.


Saturday, November 25, 2006

With Friends like these.....

.........who needs Enemies.

Ungrateful Bastards!

Friday, November 24, 2006

Thanksgiving having officially come..........

.........and gone, we can all have a day off. A day to eat leftovers, get rid of all the excess, let our bodies have a rest from the frenzy of cleaning up for the guests, planning the meneu, preparing the food, and eating ourselves into a stupour.

Unless you live here, where we'll be thankful on Saturday.

Thankful that all the children and grandchildren, even Joy and her family from Charolotte, NC, will be here, which will be the first Thanksgiving dinner we've ever shared with them, which makes me really thankful.

Yesterday for dinner I had 2 pineapple and cheese sandwichs on whole wheat bread with a surfit of mayonaise spread upon them and then I licked the knife clean.
A sure artery clogger.

Our neighbor had a lot of her children, sons and daughters-in-law home for a big meal.
This morning I hear crying and wailing, as the children frantically bundled her into a car. She fell to her knees sobbing and crying no, no, no as they did so.

Makes you think that someone passed before their time.

If you would say a little prayer for Miss Ava. That everything will turn out alright, or at least that she may be able to bear up under whatever burden is placed upon her shoulders.

I have much to be thankful for. Much of which I have voiced in prayer. Every day in which we can open our eyes and be glad to see that day, is something to be grateful. And I hope that if my eyes do not open someday, that I'll be just as glad.

I'm really grateful for the few who comment on this blog. You bouy me up with your comments and your own blogs. Keep on blogging.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I have a question.

I know there are more than two readers out there. I see you.

In an effort to get some comments going, I'd like to pose the following question.
Not trying to be smart ass or anything here. Although that's a given for me generally speaking.
I'd really like some serious, or not so, answers to this.

If as Christians believe, and I count myself amoung those, Jesus sits on the right hand of God,.......

Who sits on the left hand??

Or is this a subject totally taboo on the web?

Sunday, November 19, 2006

My Grandfather............

..........loved to hunt what we called in my youth, "Birds". Birds being defined in particular as 'Quail' or , more precisely 'Bob White Quail'.

In the area around Lawrenceville, Ga in the '50s and '60s, there were plenty of places you could go to hunt. We were related to practically every body in the county in one way or the other. At least the ones that mattered to us. So even though 'grandpa' lived on his own 100+ acre dairy farm, and My dads farm just 3 miles away was 300+ acres and we could find birds most any time on both farms, there were plenty of places to go hunting on land of relatives or friends, of which he had so many.

Pa,(pronounced Paw)loved English Springer Spaniels, for his bird dogs. Trained to search over a field or woodlot until picking up the scent of a bird or Covey of them preferably, then track the scent to where they were roosting or feeding. They are a beautiful sight to behold in the fall among the colors of the turning leaves.

When the dogs would get close to the birds they would go on point. If you've never experienced the joy and excitement of walking up behind a bird dog on point, you've missed out on one of the great joys and excitions of all time.

A good dog, on a crtain for sure covery of quail just ahead of them, will point with his nose at the birds, stretch his body out, sometimes lowering himself in attempt to not spook the birds, raise one front foot, almost as if ready to take one more step, then stretch out his tail in a straight line, almost like an arrow ready to fly from the taut stretched bow.

Hardly daring to breath you walk up behind the dogs, trying to position youself for a shot in the direction you expect them to go, speaking softly to the dogs, as you draw even with them, you urge them forward.....'easy, easy, move up, where are they?.

Slowly the dogs will, one step at the time, ease forward to where their quarry is supposed to be....

...........SUDDENDLY, They explode off the ground, flying desperately in differant directions so as not to run into each other, some high, some low.

Startled by the expected eruption, you try to aim your 16 ga. Fox/Savage double barrel at a down.........identify another.....Boom.......hopefully if you're good another down.

You quickly eject the spent shells and reload, in case a straggler rises..........

......then, call to the dogs, which took off like a flash toward the birds as soon as they broke cover. Here Pepper........Dead bird, dead bird. If their good they immediatly start searching for a bird on the ground. You guide them into where you saw the prey fall they locate the dead or wounded birds and gently pick them up in their mouths and return them to you, to lay them in your outstretched palm.....Goood dog........Good girl.....good boy. Not even a tooth mark on them. Good dog.

A few years before Pa's death, my wife and I gave him for Christmas one year a ceramic statue of a female Bob White Quail with a chick at her side. What do you buy a 75 yr old man anyway. He kept it on his gun case. After his death it came back to me. I'm looking at it now.

I miss hunting with my Grandfather. I hope where ever he is........

On a beautiful fall day, he'll arise, eat one of my grandma's hearty breakfasts, and then head out to a day of hunting, calling to his dogs, 'Let's go get some birds.

And there are no briars and kudzu for him to have to struggle thru.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

A rainy nite ....... Georgia, Such a rainy nite in Georgia.

Who was th' guy that had a hit with that song????

It sure applies tonight. Coming down like a cow pissin' on a flat rock.

Can you think of any other phrases to describe 'raining lika sonofagun'?
Let me know.

Gonna cool down after this. Be close to 35 in the mornings and 50s in the daytime. At least it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow.
It's raining so hard that I didn't even feed the dog tonight, because I didn't want her to come out in the rain and get wet and be cold and wet all night. Not all of us let them in to sleep in our bed like Livey . Of course we don't have the cold and snow that she has already experienced.

I'm so glad I live in the south. Snow and freezing might be nice to visit if you're so inclined, although for the life of me I can't see the attraction. Maybe if you were stranded in a cabin in the mountians with plenty of victals, firewood and a loving and sexy woman who found you mildly attractive. Hint; Money or a large crank would probably help guys.

Back to the outside dog. She's a 3 yr of Dalmation, with one blue eye and one brown eye. I have never seen a dog that sheds as much hair as she does. I'd almost be willing to wager that if you could gather up all the hair shed by that dog, there would be enough to stuff a king size mattress. Probably wouldn't itch any more than the corn shuck matteress' our forefather would sleep on.

She reminds me of the little boy on the Penuts cartoon script *Pigpen* rub your hand down her back and it looks like a little white cloud.

Well, since I'm not stranded as in 3rd para. above, rainy weather will at least make for good sleeping.

Forget the kudzu for a while.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Oh how I hate........

..............having to enter data into quick books.

It's especially hard when you are new to quick books and have slightly less than optimal use of the left hand.

Slower than the proverable molasses I am

On a bright note the Grandchild #6 came to visit last night. We'll be watching her till saturday. On a brighter note, at least her mother will be staying here for 3 0f those nites after she gets off work.

Now 5 months old, Callie knows how to push away with her arms and legs and how to grab eyeglasses and hair. Thankfully nanny can take care of most of the work with occasional help from me to put her to sleep.

A beautiful fall day outside. The leaves are just past their prime and falling like dominos at a japanese basketball court. And I'm stuck inside. Maybe I'll take a picture to remind me of what I'm missing.

Oh poor baby. Feel sorry for me.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Now that the pain pill has kicked in........

......I'll post this Veterans piece I saved at some point in time for just such a day..

Veteran's Day
Several PEOPLE have up the poem "In Flander's Fields". Analog Kid has a PHOTO PICTORIAL.

Everything that we have in this country, we have because of those who have gone before us to protect us. Nobody in their right mind wants to die. Nobody in the miliary goes out in battle thinking "Gosh, if I catch a bullet then people will love me because I'll be a veteran!"

Soldier's, sailors, airmen and Marines, who would rather be sitting at home having meals with their families, celebrating the holidays with their loved ones, are doing what they do because they understand that this country is worth fighting for. This country is worth protecting. The rights and freedoms that we have are worth fighting for.

Nobody wants to die, but those men and women in uniform understand that it is better to die fighting for what you believe in rather than live in a world where freedom is just a wishful dream. So to all veterans, I say Thank You. I only hope that I can live up to your expectations.

There are more Veteran's Day links at WINDS OF CHANGE and POWERLINE.

However, I think the best discription of all is from MAD OGRE.

Just a word to you cake eating civilians out there… You don’t say Happy Veterans Day. You don’t say Merry Vets Day. But just because you don’t have a meaningless Seasons Greetings for it doesn’t mean you don’t say anything. This isn’t some fat bunny in a sled passing around Jack O’Lanterns because it’s Santa’s birthday… This isn’t about some old fable-become-tradition. Veterans Day is a day for those that are still alive, and for those who are dead… those who died for your freedom to flip soldiers the bird and to call them baby killers and spit on them in the airport. Veterans Day is for the guys that died fighting for your personal independent liberty… It’s for that Veteran that walks with just a slight limp and seems otherwise fine, but he doesn’t have a spleen because an enemy of our country blew it out his back with an AK-47 so you can get 15% Off that new leather fat-ass reclining couch that your going to sit on to mock the President from while watching your 42 inch plasma TV flipping through the channels trying to find some Friends rerun. Veterans Day is for the guy that came home while all his friends didn’t. Veterans day is for the woman who gave up the best years of her young adulthood so she could press her hands over the sucking chest wound of some guy from her own home town 6 thousand miles away from home. Veterans day is for that old woman over there that raised 2 kids alone because when she was young she sent her handsome young husband off to fight for your freedom and came back as a flag folded into a triangle. That’s what Veterans day is for… and what do you say to those people who served? You just say “Thank You”.

VETERANS DAY...... always a day of mixed emotions for me.

First of all, I always get a greeting and rememberance from my sister Joyce. She's always thankful for my service and for the fact that I came home. She's also the only one to always remember and let me know that she remembers.

Then I always remember the ones who didn't return. Carl, John, Walter, Nick, Lt. Hunter, and so many others I can't remember and over 58,000 that I never knew.

I remember one scout pilot, a 1st Lt. whos name for the life of me I can't remember. For some reason he and I took to one another. Probably because we were 2 shy southern boys, who didn't go in for the drunken hell raisin', drink and be merry for tomorrow we die crowd.

We both were fans of a young British rocker call Rod Stewart, and were looking for some reason and purpose to our lives. Our lives revolved around flying. We loved it, and were, for some reason good at it. If being involved in the Southeast Asia War Games was the cost of getting to fly, so be it. It was.......

Lt. was a fan of a Florida guru/con artist popular at that time. Sort of a Tony Robbins of the '60s and 70s by the name of Glenn Turner. He taught some thing called the power of positive thinking. Lt would try to explain some of the teachings of Turner and the power of the mind. He was a slight built young man. Probably about 130 lbs, 5'9' or so. He was the only guy at that time I knew who could take a beer or coke can, place it on his forehead, holding it with only his palm, and crush it absolutely flat, suddenly, with no apparent effort. Mind you, this was before the switch to aluminium cans. I, of about the same size, couldn't even crush one between my two hands, exerting all my strength. There must have been something to what he had studied.

As things happen, people are killed, wounded or simply rotated home and Lt. was made the Scout Platoon leader. He took to it like a fish to water. A natural leader, and motivator of his pilots and crews.

We were assigned to fly hunter/killer teams in an area we called the tri/border area. Northwest of Kha Sahn, where North and South Vietnam and Laos came together.

One team, 1 scout ship, 2 cobras and 1 huey for cover, ran into a group of NVA on and around a small hill there. The scout ship was shot out of the sky and crashed, no apparent survivors.

All of the teams could hear what was going on. All quit whatever they were doing and prepared to give assistance. In the hope that there might be survivors another scout tried to sneak in with rocket cover from the cobras to check the wreck site. Another burning and crashing bird. Bell jet rangers, known for their inability to survive a crash.

Lt. was now on the scene in his scout ship. Appraised of the danger and the evident superior firepower of the NVA, he was warned and ordered to stay out of the area of the hill, since to attempt to rescue any survivors would surely result in another bird down. The conversations between birds was heated and intense, with Lt. adament that he was going to try to get his guys back, that he was positive he could succeed....

.........he and his crew died.

Their bodies never to be recovered.

Nine Men died that day. And I can't even remember their names.

But in Washington, D.C. their names are inscribed on a black wall in a hole in the ground, for the ages to remember as are so many names of so many men and women, from all the conflicts that this country has felt it necessary to order them to go.........

...............and die.

The tears always come, but never a catharisis, and never a release from the Kudzu.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

You get exactly what you deserve

..........every time. Where you are in the universe and especially on this pitiable ball of mud is justly the result of all the decisions, good and bad, that you make over a lifetime.

And when a group of people get together as a large group you may be sure that the result of their group dynamic will produce something exceedingly stupid.

I didn't vote yesterday. I'll use the excuse that for most of the day I was too doped up to be allowed to go near a voting place because nothin in this world could have stopped me from pontificating on the stupidity of all those there, whether they intended to vote for the donkeys or the elephants.

We always get exactly the government we deserve as long as people believe we are a democracy.

Where are our statesmen. Where are those who really want to have and help make this a better country and hopefully a better world.

Harrison Ford was once asked if he believed in "The Force" ...
...his answer "the force is within you, Force Yourself.

When we as a people realize that we as individuals have charge of ourselves and don't want the government to lump everyone in to a Group.
, which has to have a leader because as a group individuals are the same as anyone else, they want someone to lead, be incharge and take the heat for all the dumb things the group does, then we might start using our heads to create more liberty, and freedom and not less.

Welcome to the New Reality.

Find some Kudzu to hide in.

I survived

Some would say that putting ones self at the mercvy of the VA hospital is a grave miscalculation.......

........I did just that yesterday, and awoke with all my appendages still attached.......

.....working, remains to be seen.

actually only carpal tunnel procedure. I've cut myself worse.. Still hurts a bit, however done. Between the meds already taking and this new pain killer I've quite a buzz on today.

I quit drinking back in '75. the wobble came as a bittersweet memory.

Differant party in charge of house in D.C. Same ol' Bullshiate. I REpeat previous advice. keep your guns and ammo in a dry and secure location, a surplus of money, both hard and phoney, squirraled away, and plenty of food & water put aside....

.....and keep your head down below the radar.

Else the Kudzu will get you. REMEMBER.........

......It's not paranoia, if they really are out to fuck you over.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Change...... good. Right??

In an effort to make things easier for me to type, you will note please that I have changed my ID to kdzu. No longer do I have to reach for the shift key and then remember to put in the .'s and spaces.

I hope this will make things easier for the 2 or 3 people who do read and comment.
I know that it will for me, as long as I can remember that I changed it.

Today was a b.e.a. utiful day hear in the peach state (yes I know that S.C. produces more peaches than we do). 80 degrees in Toccoa as we passed the bank. How in the world did banks decide to put the time and temp on their signs. You'd think that we know if its cold or hot, and if we're riding past in our autos or trucks we're probably already aware that we're late.

I have also today switched to Blogger Beta. It let me post my mountain post and pictures, but now they tell me that I can't comment on a blogger site. If you wonder where I am, I'm sitting here pulling my hair out trying to figure how to post to a couple of favorites. Soon they tell me. I don't want soon, I want now.
Instant gratification. Isn't that the american way. Especially if I can't afford it now. Let's just use that marvelous thing called credit, shall we.

Better go, I feel the kudzu crawling.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Off to the mountains.........

.....To see what I can find. The first American Gold Rush happened here some number of years ago. We even had our own mint. If you happen to own a genuine Dahlonaga Gold piece then you problbly have something valuable.
Me I prefer not to get all wet and dirty playing in the creeks looking for the yellow stuff. I'll let others do that for me. They pay big bucks for jewelry for themselves and loved ones, and then sell it for .10 cents on the dollar.
Folks, to me the other metals in the piece and the workmanship mean squat.
But, still people believe that whatever they paid for something is what it's worth, even a new car.

UPDATE; Back from the mountains. Nice trip shared with the better half. She wanted to get out of the house and see the fall leaf colors. We also bought some sorghum syrup and a bag of mtn. grown apples.
I did find one treasure. If anybody is interested in a very nice 3/4 ct round diamond, which may grade as good as VS1 or better, at a very reasonable price, let me know.

Update; Pictures of contented cow and a few shiney rocks.

Thursday, October 26, 2006


Go on. Go to........

And read all of it. See if any of your opinions take a shift.

.....There will be a TEST

A view from the front

I think that every one who has read much here knows that I am 110% behind our troops either stationed in a combat zone or where ever they may be serving.
Perhaps it is time for us to hear more from the people who have actually been deployed on the ground and have seen it up close and personal.
In Vietnam we called those who sat back in the rear and supposedly ran the war REMFs. That's Rear Eschelon Mother F****rs. The military is different now that it's smaller. Many of those running the troops are either with them or communicate in real time with them so they have a better idea of what's going on. My suggestion is to get the word out to as many people as possible so They can actually see the good (of which there is quite a bit) as well as the bad (of which there is also plenty).

I have bookmarked . Look him up. This is a letter from a colonel who is soon leaving Iraq and some of his thoughts. I think they're worth considering.

What do you think?

Sunday, October 22, 2006

As Promised

I'd love to know how to put my pictures mixed in or down below the text of the blog. Maybe I'll figure it out at a later date. I tend to jump in and do the easy stuff and if it works well enough, then OK by me.

The Pic above is of two maple leafs I bought to resale the other day. One is .999 fine and the other is .9999 fine. Any thing that is more pure than Ivory soap is pure enought for me.

It's nice to pick up pretties like this. Mostly what I buy is scrap jewelry that has been broken or people just don't want any more. Amazing thing guys, sometimes when the lady is angry or scorned, they just want to get rid of whatever reminds them of you. Even if they get very little for it. Maybe shows what they think of you at the time.

I pick up a few nice diamonds that way sometimes.
Just had 5 sets of earings made up from about 1/4 cttw to almost a carat tw.
I'll try to sell them, but people tend to shun an individual, even with GIA training, and go the the established stores where because of overhead they have to triple the price just to come out a little ahead.

There is a fever like disorder that attracts you, once you start dealing with it.
Something about taking an adulterated item and render it to .999 pure gives a satisfying sense of accomplishment. And as Robert Service says so well, sometimes it's in the finding, more than the having.

I wanted the gold, and I sought it,
I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy -- I fought it;
I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it --
Came out with a fortune last fall, --
Yet somehow life's not what I thought it,
And somehow the gold isn't all.

Robert W. Service, The Spell of the Yukon

"There's gold, and it's haunting and haunting; it's luring me on as of old. But it's not the gold that I'm wanting, so much as just finding the gold."-Robert Service, 18-th century miner/poet.

Some times life is like that. A constant searching for something, we know not what.
We shift from partner to partner,
home to home,
job to job,
Church to church.

Always looking for that next big deal,
That next opportunity that's going to make you rich, and you never stop to think that, if you just save a little as you go along, after a while you can stop searching.

But as the poet says, sometimes it more about the looking than finding.

Read the whole poem here if you wish.

For Thirty years I been looking just over the next horizon, and now the horizon is not as far as it once was, and I'm afraid to look over it because I fear what might, or might not, be there.

But at least for a little while I can look at the lady above, and see her as she once was and as she later became. And get a sense of stability from her.

And still, I know, that there is kudzu around her soul, too.

Thanks to for leading me to Services' poems. I once heard that there is a scottish saying that 'money is flat and meant to be stacked up'. Maybe Eric can ask his bride if that's true.

Saturday, October 21, 2006



A girl just wants to be held in the arms of an older more experienced man.

Some of you.......OK 1 of you (thanks Jean) wanted to see an updated picture of the grand daughter.

What can I say. I just seem to have the knack of putting pretty girls to sleep.

Probably my bubbling personality.

Or my ability to find pure gold.

Pictures of that lady tomorrow.

Thursday, October 19, 2006


This will make you think

Your alarm goes off, you hit the snooze and
sleep for another 10 minutes.

He stays up for days on end.
You take a warm shower to help you wake up.

He goes days or weeks without running
You complain of a "headache", and call in

He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps
moving forward.
You put on your anti war/don't support the
troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends.

He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.
You make sure you're cell phone is in your

He clutches the cross hanging on his chain
next to his dog tags.
You talk trash about your "buddies" that
aren't with you.

He knows he may not see some of his buddies
you walk down the beach, staring at all the
pretty girls.

He walks the streets, searching for
insurgents and terrorists.
You complain about how hot it is.

He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take
off his helmet to wipe his brow.
You go out to lunch, and complain because
the restaurant got your order wrong.

He doesn't get to eat today.
Your maid makes your bed and washes your

He wears the same things for weeks, but
makes sure his weapons are clean.
You go to the mall and get your hair redone.

He doesn't have time to brush his teeth
You're angry because your class ran 5
minutes over.

He's told he will be held over an extra 2
You call your girlfriend and set a date for

He waits for the mail to see if there is a
letter from home.
You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you
do everyday.

He holds his letter close and smells his
love's perfume.
You roll your eyes as a baby cries.

He gets a letter with pictures of his new
child, and wonders if they'll ever meet
you criticize your government, and say that
war never solves anything.

He sees the innocent tortured and killed by
their own people and remembers why he is fighting.
You hear the jokes about the war, and make
fun of men like him.

He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of
the wounded.
You see only what the media wants you to

He sees the broken bodies lying around him.
You are asked to go to the store by your
parents. You don't.

He does exactly what he is told.
You stay at home and watch TV.

He takes whatever time he is given to call,
write home, sleep, and eat.
You crawl into your soft bed, with down
pillows, and get comfortable.

He crawls under a tank for shade and a 5
minute nap, only to be woken by gunfire.
You sit there and judge him, saying the
world is probably a worse place
because of men like him.

If only there were more men like him!

If you support your troops, re-send this to
everyone you know,

If it gets to another veteran who hasn't
received it yet, it will bring back memories.

Only two defining forces have ever offered
to die for you, Jesus Christ and the American G I.
One died for your soul, the other for your

Bruce Cherokee Perry

Shamelessly stolen from and email my sister sent me.

I will be emailing Mr. Perry to make sure it's ok.

As I came out of the Franklin County, Georgia courthouse today my eyes were drawn to the marble obolisk outside which pays homage to those who died for their country in all the wars since WWII. There was a wreath of red and white roses placed before it.

I thought of the approximately 70 - 80 soldiers of all ranks killed in my unit in the short 1 year in Vietnam, and the thought came to me that I can only name a handful of them. Those I was close to or spent some time with. And I remembered seeing their names engraved for the ages on the Vietnam memorial in Washington, D.C.
and I felt ashamed that I could name so few.

But I'll never forget that I came home to my family and they didn't.

I was raised to believe that a man doesn't cry. I didn't shed public tears at my fathers casket. But, to see those names on that wall and to think of their sacrifice is more than the kudzu can hide.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Wherein I have been blessed

Behind a Fathers Mask

To a small infant child, behind the mask of a father
is a person who is never wrong

He seems to know answers to all of her questions and
he is powerful and strong.

With a kiss to a boo-boo or a pat on the back, he
takes pains of the body away.

He makes pains of the heart disappear with a hug
and the words "I'm here to stay".

As the child grows older and independent, she also
grows away from the man she calls dad.

A relationship with him is just something she
holds in her heart that she once had.

Now a rebellious teenager who claims to know all
Dad never seems to be right.

And the long talks they once had now take the
form of a never ending fight.

So she leaves the masked mans arms to see the
world on her own

And learns too quickly life could have been easy
had she only known.

After fighting the battles with him and saying
things that weren't meant

Thru all of the madness and tears only his
love was being sent.

And now a full grown woman, independent and

It is understood he was trying to be what she needed
him to be.

So she no longer tries to see behind her
fathers mask

Now answers come without effort about a good and
bad past

And she sees him thru different eyes than a young
infant child and his identity comes thru

He is not just my father, nor is he my enemy,
he is my dearest friend - forever true.

Written by; My oldest Child
on 6 -17 - 90

I have 4 children and 6 grandchildren, and they are all, and each, my favorites. Completley different and each unique. I am in awe that they are on loan to me.

I thought for a moment the kudzu had cleared from my vision.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Well, I've ...... all of my favorite blogs tonight.

We finally got all of the grand children to sleep.

I am amazed at how many fine writers there are out there. They all mostly, put yours truly to shame.

This is just a sort of stream of consciousness type of blog for me. I read & see some many things and topics to write about but, if someone else blogs better about it than me, why should I try to exceed their lofty heights.

I trying a CPAC machine tonight in an effort to reduce my snoring. We'll see if I feel less tired in the morning.

Wish we had broadband of some kind. I have to download a couple of things tonight thast will prob take all night. breath.......perchance to dream.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Where is the wisdom?

Brush your teeth after each meal.. Floss after every meal. Use this toothpaste or the other to never have a cavity. See your Dentist twice a year.........

...Oh! By the way. Be sure to have your wisdom teeth extracted as soon as they come in.

Every body hears these messages from the time their young. Toothbrushes are one of the most highly advertised items in the world.

They put flouride in the water to strengthen teeth.

Does any of it do any good if you don't heed their advice (whoever THEY are)?

I've been fairly lucky with my teeth over the decades. A few cavities. One or two crowns from trying to open bottles or crack nuts with my teeth. I brushed, rarely flossed. And never had my wisdom teeth all pulled. One came thru the gums, and three are impacted, but never gave me any real problems....

.....until now.

Whoa boy can those puppies hurt. Inflame the gum. Bleeding when brushed. Very sensitive.

May have to bite the bullet and find a cheap jawbreaker to pull it out.

Their called wisdom teeth, because if your smart you'll have them yanked out when your young.

Need to chew some kudzu to see if it has any medicinal properties.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Just sitting here.......

having read all my favorite blogs, commenting on a few. Mostly lurking.

The motivation to write seems to be weak, but a guy once told me that if you didn't feel like praying, thats the time to get on your knees.

Perhaps the same with blogging.

We have the newest grandchild for the next two days. Boy is that a shock to our old selves. Thankfully tonight I had taken my medication before she got the colic and started screaming, so I was reasonably calm about it. But, Lord that child has a set of lungs on her. The world champion hog caller of 2020 is going to have a run for the money if she enters.

Finally she has drifted off to dreamland where hopefully she'll have pleasant dreams, while I stand watch with garlic, a silver cross and Browning Hi-power to ward off any boogymen.

Need to put together a flyer for our business to take to a luncheon tomorrow.

550 realtors, hopefully a few of them will be babes so as to make the rubbery chicken go down a little easier.

For a shy retiring type such as my self it'll be a trial, but somebody has to do it and there is no one better than me for buttering up the ladies.


to work

to help hold the kudzu down to managable levels.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Helping one another

LL just helped me recover my temporarily lost archives. Don't you just love it when they can immediatly see and know the answer to the problem.

This brings me thought that have been running thru my head for a while. (They run because there are no chairs there, so they can't relax.)

Years ago, I had a vision.

In the middle of the night, a person stood at the end of my bed and told me to believe and be baptised.

I did, but always felt that there was some reason that wasn't revealed to me then.

Years later a man told me, in response to my question of, 'what did that person in the vision want of me? "He wants you to attend church." I have for the past 12 years.

But I still feel as if there is more that I should be doing. Some way to make a big difference in a lot of peoples lives. But I have not a clue.

Is this a common thing. Are we desirious of being much more than we currently are?
Are People willing to expend the effort that it would take? Am I???
And in what direction should that effort be directed?

11:45 pm and the kudzu seeks to draw me down.
To Bed

Saturday, September 30, 2006



Why am I typing in all caps?

I attempted yesterday to add a link to one of my favorite blogs and now my archives are GONE/

Help from any talented Tech type person.

And I just commented to Jean that I could follow directions. None of them had a very techie bent to them.

Just damn!

Friday, September 29, 2006

Why I love my dogs

Someone probably sent me this in an email a while back, and I present it for your consideration.........

Dog philosophy.

The reason a dog has so many friends is that he
wags his tail instead of his tongue.

Don't accept your dog's admiration as
conclusive evidence that you are wonderful.
-Ann Landers

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die
I want to go where they went.
-Will Rogers

There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy
licking your face.
Ben Williams

A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you
more than he loves himself.
Josh Billings

The average dog is a nicer person than

the average person.
Andy Rooney

We give dogs time we can spare,
space we can spare
and love we can spare.
And in return, dogs give us their all.
It's the best deal man has ever made.
M. Acklam

Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies,
quite unlike people, who are incapable of
pure love and always have to mix love and hate.
Sigmund Freud

I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members
of a weird religious cult.
-Rita Rudner

A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance,
and to turn around three times before lying down.
Robert Benchley

Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes
like never washed a dog.
Franklin P. Jones

If I have any beliefs about immortality,
it is that certain dogs I have known
will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.
James Thurber

If your dog is fat, you aren't getting
enough exercise.

My dog is worried about the economy
because Alpo is up to $3.00 a can.
That's almost $21.00 in dog money.
Joe Weinstein

Ever consider what our dogs must think of us?
I mean, here we come back from a grocery
store with the most amazing haul -- chicken,
pork, half a cow.
They must think we're the greatest hunters
on earth!
Anne Tyler

Women and cats will do as they please,
and men and dogs should relax and
get used to the idea.
Robert A. Heinlein

If you pick up a starving dog and make him
prosperous, he will not bite you; that is the
principal difference between a dog and
Mark Twain

You can say any foolish thing to a dog,
and the dog will give you a look that says,
'Wow, you're right! I never would've thought
of that!'
Dave Barry

Dogs are not our whole life,
but they make our lives whole.
Roger Caras

If you think dogs can't count, try putting three
biscuits in you pocket and give him only two of them.
-Phil Pastoret

My goal in life is to be as good of
a person my dog already thinks I am.

....A man once told me that if you have 5 true friends in your whole life, that you could consider yourself lucky.

This same man, a man I considered my best friend in the world, today severed that friendship. It seems that lucre is more important.

Pardon me while I pull the kudzu up over my head for a while. My dalmation will dig me out eventually, licking on my chin and whining.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006


Dee yam nanny. Didn't they teach you how to make the water warm?

Prayers needed

My sister in Maine just sent her second son to Iraq this week.

His older brother has been there for a little while now.

Zack (the older) is a 1st lt. The picture is of him (on the right), his CO and his sargent.

So far no pictures of the 2nd son, a medic.

Please keep These young men in your prayers as well as their parents and youngest brother.

This is a little too much like the kudzu I'm trying to get out of.

I'm very proud of my nephews, although thankfully they are nothing like me.

Fine Belgium milk chocolate

LL, and some few others ridiculed my version of the reason for my "galloping trots" a week or so ago. Now I'll admit that I may have slightly exaggerated the severity of the malaise, but take a look at this box of chocolate.

I only today tried any more of this tasty treat, and will admit that after eating about 4 ozs just a few moments ago, I have not yet experienced any ill effects.

Perhaps after another small piece I'll call it a day.

Any one who eats that much chocolate with 3/4 of a glass of milk at 11:30 PM should have sweet dreams...

...Or nightmares.

Researchers have determined that chocolate act on the same brain receptors as sex. Perhaps if I had more sex I would have less a craving for chocolate. Or more chocolate, less a craving for sex. With the help of those magic pills from the VA, I hope to put that theory to the test at least one more time before I die. Or if the wife predeceases me, more than once if I'm lucky and should live so long.

Perhaps all those days of wanting and getting it 2 or 4 times a day have caught up with either her or me. Or perhaps after so many years she's tired of my wrinkly ol' ass.

Does anyone else feel out of sync sexually with the one they desire.

Oh well maybe it's just a matter of mind over matter.......if you don't mind it don't matter.

But I never would mind anyone. How did I get here from writing about chocolate

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Old Dogs

Almost done.

Only one more load to go tomorrow. Get the final payment and then no more 73 acres to ramble on and wish that I had done more with it. Feel a little bit like the unrightous servant who was not a good steward of the one talent he was given so the ruler took it away from him.

I guess I'm just having a bit of the 'coulda', woulda', shoulda's going on in my head.

We were headed home in the truck this afternoon with the next to last load.. Mostly filling the back was this big ol' obsolete big screen projection tv of wifes dad. Needs repair but we moved it like it was of some value.

Wife in the passenger seat with the big dalmation bitch up in ( I mean litterly in her lap) lap. Crazy dog is like the proverable Camel with his nose in the tent. Pet this dog while sitting in a chair and she will climb right up onto your shoulder if you let her.

I got to waxing philosophical, as I do sometimes, and I got to thinking about what of the stuff we moved is really essential to our lives. I mean, the computer for the internet and the fridge for the food, a bed to sleep in, my pills that keep me from trying to use the 10 inch dagger under the console in the truck. Many of the things we have define us instead of we our selves doing the defining. We need the new car, or the bigger tv. But it's somehow a little too hard to live a life that's worthwhile just on it's own.

This led me to try to remember the old Tom T. Hall song. You know the one. Old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Old Dogs and Children and Watermelon Wine

"How old do you think I am," he said?
I said, well, I didn't know.
He said, "I turned 65 about 11 months ago."
I was sittin' in Miami, pouring blended whiskey down
When this old gray, black gentleman was cleaning up the lounge.
There wasn't anyone around, except this old man and me.
The guy who ran the bar was watching Ironside on TV.
Uninvited, he sat down and opened up his mind
On old dogs and children and watermelon wine.
"Ever had a drink of watermelon wine," he asked.
He told me all about it, though I didn't answer back.
"Ain't but three things in this world that's worth a solitary dime,
But old dogs and children and watermelon wine."
He said, "Women think about themselves, when men-folk ain't around.
And friends are hard to find when they discover that you're down."
He said, "I tried it all when I was young and in my natural prime,
Now it's old dogs and children and watermelon wine."
"Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes.
God bless little children while they're still to young to hate."
When he moved away I found my pen and copied down that line
About old dogs and children and watermelon wine.
I had to catch a plane up to Atlanta that next day.
As I left for my room I saw him picking up my change.
That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime,
Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Kinda puts things in perspective, doesn't it??

Might go sit in the kudzu and ponder for a while.

Bowed but unbroken

Who would have imagined that one family (read mostly yours truly) could have accumulated so much junk and useless stuff in only 16 yrs at one place.
Blogging has had to take a back seat to the neccessity of hauling all that junk off. Either to the dump, to the recycling place (9 loads to the metal yard alone, and to our new residence or to the storage building.
Can anyone give me a good reason to have so much that you don't want to get rid of that you will pay $90.00 a month to store it. And I know that most of it will only sit moldering there until the next move (God forbid).
I have however been able to lurk in the evenings. Hopefully things will get to normal (what is that?) soon.

'dja ever notice how fast grass and Kudzu will grow as fall and winter get closer?

Monday, September 11, 2006

9/11 HEROS

You can call them all heros if you want to. To me some of them were mere victims. Lives snuffed out in and instant when the planes struck the towers.

Some were simply lucky by where they were and able to make their panic stricken way out of the buildings. I was sure as I watched the planes strike the buildlings that the death toll would be much higher. Probably less than a 10th of the possible # that could have been killed if the building had collapsed quicker.

Certainly the firemen and police were heros that fateful day. But, they were simply doing what they had been trained to do. Which makes them heros in my book.

But let's look at just one individual hero on that day 5 years ago.

911 Remembered: Rick Rescorla was a soldier
Note: This post is originally from September, 2003.

Have you seen the movie We were Soldiers?

A good one, in my opinion. Given just a couple hours to tell a tale I think all in all the folks involved did a commendable job.

Perhaps it's hard to go wrong, given the source material. We Were Soldiers Once, And Young is an account of the battle at Ia Drang Valley, fought in the still early phases of the war in Viet Nam. The book was written by Hal Moore, who was then a Lt Col and commander of the American troops in the valley, and Joe Galloway, a reporter who was at the battle. Their collaboration is a truly human account of men at war- including the enemy viewpoint, as Galloway and Moore's efforts at capturing the battle on paper were thorough enough to include interviews with survivors from the other side.

Take a look at the cover. The prominent figure is Rick Rescorla, described thusly on the LZ Xray web page:

No sleep for 48 hours.
Grimy, unshaven, filthy uniform.
Canteens loose, dogtags hanging out, pocket unbuttoned, helmet strap hanging.
No insignia of rank, sleeves up.
Dirty fingernails.
His bayonet is fixed; trigger finger alert and ready for action.
Lt. Rick Rescorla, Platoon Leader, B Co 2/7 Cav in Bayonet Attack on the morning of 16 Nov 1965(1)

This is not a posed shot; this is a man moving forward into combat. Eyes forward. Ready.

On that day,

The PAVN Commander knows that he had severely weakened and damaged the defenders in the Charlie Co sector the previous morning. What he does not know is that a fresh company - B Co 2nd Bn 7th Cav, had taken over the position after that engagement. That company, unmolested the previous afternoon, had cut fields of fire, dug new foxholes, fired in artillery concentrations, carefully emplaced it's machine guns and piled up ammunition(1).
Rescorla directed his men to dig foxholes and establish a defense perimeter. Exploring the hilly terrain beyond the perimeter, he came under enemy fire. After nightfall, he and his men endured waves of assault. To keep morale up, Rescorla led the men in military cheers and Cornish songs throughout the night(2).

Rescorla knew war. His men did not, yet. To steady them, to break their concentration away from the fear that may grip a man when he realizes there are hundreds of men very close by who want to kill him, Rescorla sang. Mostly he sang dirty songs that would make a sailor blush. Interspersed with the lyrics was the voice of command: ?Fix bayonets?on liiiiine?reaaaa-dy?forward.? It was a voice straight from Waterloo, from the Somme, implacable, impeccable, impossible to disobey. His men forgot their fear, concentrated on his orders and marched forward as he led them straight into the pages of history.(3)

The PAVN assaults four separate times beginning at 4:22 AM. The last is at 6:27 AM. They are stopped cold, losing over 200 dead. B Co has 6 wounded. At 9:55 AM, a sweep outward is made which results in more enemy dead and the position secured(1).

The next morning, Rescorla took a patrol through the battlefield, searching for American dead and wounded. As he looked over a giant anthill, he encountered an enemy machine-gun nest. The startled North Vietnamese fired on him, and Rescorla hurled a grenade into the nest. There were no survivors(2).

Rescorla and Bravo company were evacuated by helicopter. The rest of the battalion marched to a nearby landing zone. On the way, they were ambushed, and Bravo company was again called in for relief. Only two helicopters made it through enemy fire. As the one carrying Rescorla descended, the pilot was wounded, and he started to lift up. Rescorla and his men jumped the remaining ten feet, bullets flying at them, and made it into the beleaguered camp. As Lieutenant Larry Gwin later recalled the scene, "I saw Rick Rescorla come swaggering into our lines with a smile on his face, an M-79 on his shoulder, his M-16 in one hand, saying, 'Good, good, good! I hope they hit us with everything they got tonight?we'll wipe them up.' His spirit was catching. The enemy must have thought an entire battalion was coming to help us, because of all our screaming and yelling."(2)

"My God, it was like Little Big Horn," recalls Pat Payne, a reconnaissance platoon leader. "We were all cowering in the bottom of our foxholes, expecting to get overrun. Rescorla gave us courage to face the coming dawn. He looked me in the eye and said, 'When the sun comes up, we're gonna kick some ass.' "

Sure enough, the battalion fought its way out of Albany. Rescorla left the field
with a morale-boosting souvenir: a battered French Army bugle that the North
Vietnamese had once claimed as a trophy of war. It became a talisman for his
entire division.(4)

Lt Rescorla survived that engagement and many others.

He had grown up in a village on England's southwest coast and left at age sixteen to join the British military. He'd fought against Communists in Cyprus and Rhodesia. He then came to America, he said, so that he could enlist in the Army and go to Vietnam. He welcomed the opportunity to join the American cause in Southeast Asia. He worked his way up through the ranks to Sergeant before being commissioned.

The epitome of the young warrior, he was the sort that England seems to have bred in abundance for centuries: the type of young man who in times past went forth from Britain and created an empire upon which the sun never set. England happened to be fresh out of wars in the 1960s, so Rescorla became an American and fought in ours.(3)
More stories from Viet Nam:

The survivors of the 7th Cavalry still tell awestruck stories about Rescorla. Like the time he stumbled into a hooch full of enemy soldiers on a reconnaissance patrol in Bon Song. "Oh, pardon me," he said, before firing a few rounds and racing away. "Oh, comma, pardon me," repeats Dennis Deal, who followed Rescorla that day in April 1966. "Like he had walked into a ladies' tea party!"
Or the time a deranged private pulled a .45-caliber pistol on an officer while Rescorla was nearby, sharpening his bowie knife. "Rick just walked right between them and said: Put. Down. The. Gun." recalls Bill Lund, who served with Rescorla in Vietnam. "And the guy did. Then Rick went back to his knife. He was flat out the bravest man any of us ever knew."(4)

After fighting in Vietnam, he returned to the United States and used his military benefits to study creative writing at the University of Oklahoma. Literary minded, even before college he had read all fifty-one volumes of the Harvard Classics and could recite Shakespeare and quote Churchill. He had started writing a novel about a mobile-air-cavalry unit, and had several stories published in Western-themed magazines. He eventually earned a bachelor's, a master's in literature, and a law degree.

Rescorla then moved to South Carolina for a brief teaching career. He left for greener pastures; jobs in corporate security eventually led him to Dean Witter in 1985. He moved to New Jersey, commuted to Manhattan, and rose to become vice-president in charge of security at Morgan Stanley Dean Witter.

And, oh by the way, was still in the Army, as a Reservist, having advanced to colonel before retiring in 1990.

Rescorla's office was on the forty-fourth floor of the south tower of the World Trade Center. The firm occupied twenty-two floors in the south tower, and several floors in a building nearby. In 1990 Rescorla and Dan Hill, an old Army friend, evaluated the security, identifying load bearing columns in the parking garage as a weak point. A security official for the Port Authority dismissed their concerns. On February 26, 1993, a truck bomb exploded in the basement.

Rescorla ensured that every one of his firm's employees was safely evacuated, and was the last man out of the building.

Rescorla met his wife while running barefoot. Still determined to be a writer he had been scripting a play set in Rhodesia, based on his experiences there. Few of the native Rhodesians had worn shoes, which was why, he explained to her, he had to feel what it was like to run barefoot.

Some insight into the man's character:

Rescorla may have told Susan that he was running barefoot as research for a play, but he had already been running barefoot in Africa, and then at Fort Dix, toughening his soles to the point where he could extinguish a fire with his bare feet. He told Hill that if he lost his boots in combat it wouldn't matter. This was something he'd absorbed from his years in Africa. "You should be able to strip a man naked and throw him out with nothing on him," he told Hill. By the end of the day, the man should be clothed and fed. By the end of the week, he should own a horse. And by the end of a year he should own a business and have money in the bank.(2)
Small wonder that the final chapter of the story goes like this:

In St. Augustine, Dan Hill was laying tile in his upstairs bathroom when his wife called, "Dan, get down here! An airplane just flew into the World Trade Center. It's a terrible accident." Hill hurried downstairs, and then the phone rang. It was Rescorla, calling from his cell phone.
"Are you watching TV?" he asked. "What do you think?"

"Hard to tell. It could have been an accident, but I can't see a commercial airliner getting that far off."

"I'm evacuating right now," Rescorla said.

Hill could hear Rescorla issuing orders through the bullhorn. He was calm and collected, never raising his voice. Then Hill heard him break into song:

Men of Cornwall stop your dreaming;
Can't you see their spearpoints gleaming?
See their warriors' pennants streaming
To this battlefield.
Men of Cornwall stand ye steady;
It cannot be ever said ye
for the battle were not ready;
Stand and never yield!

Rescorla came back on the phone. "Pack a bag and get up here," he said. "You can be my consultant again." He added that the Port Authority was telling him not to evacuate and to order people to stay at their desks.

"What'd you say?" Hill asked.

"I said, 'Piss off, you son of a bitch,' " Rescorla replied. "Everything above where that plane hit is going to collapse, and it's going to take the whole building with it. I'm getting my people the fuck out of here." Then he said, "I got to go. Get your shit in one basket and get ready to come up."

Hill turned back to the TV and, within minutes, saw the second plane execute a sharp left turn and plunge into the south tower. Susan saw it, too, and frantically phoned her husband's office. No one answered.

About fifteen minutes later, the phone rang. It was Rick. She burst into tears and couldn't talk.

"Stop crying," he told her. "I have to get these people out safely. If something should happen to me, I want you to know I've never been happier. You made my life."

Susan cried even harder, gasping for breath. She felt a stab of fear, because the words sounded like those of someone who wasn't coming back. "No!" she cried, but then he said he had to go. Cell-phone use was being curtailed so as not to interfere with emergency communications.

From the World Trade Center, Rescorla again called Hill. He said he was taking some of his security men and making a final sweep, to make sure no one was left behind, injured, or lost. Then he would evacuate himself. "Call Susan and calm her down," he said. "She's panicking."

Hill reached Susan, who had just got off the phone with Sullivan. "Take it easy," he said, as she continued to sob. "He's been through tight spots before, a million times." Suddenly Susan screamed. Hill turned to look at his own television and saw the south tower collapse. He thought of the words Rescorla had so often used to comfort dying soldiers. "Susan, he'll be O.K.," he said gently. "Take deep breaths. Take it easy. If anyone will survive, Rick will survive."

When Hill hung up, he turned to his wife. Her face was ashen. "Shit," he said. "Rescorla is dead."(2)

The rest of Rick Rescorla's morning is shrouded in some mystery. The tower went dark. Fire raged. Windows shattered. Rescorla headed upstairs before moving down; he helped evacuate several people above the 50th Floor. Stephan Newhouse, chairman of Morgan Stanley International, said at a memorial service in Hayle that Rescorla was spotted as high as the 72nd floor, then worked his way down, clearing floors as he went. He was telling people to stay calm, pace themselves, get off their cell phones, keep moving. At one point, he was so exhausted he had to sit for a few minutes, although he continued barking orders through his bullhorn. Morgan Stanley officials said he called headquarters shortly before the tower collapsed to say he was going back up to search for stragglers.

John Olson, a Morgan Stanley regional director, saw Rescorla reassuring colleagues in the 10th-floor stairwell. "Rick, you've got to get out, too," Olson told him. "As soon as I make sure everyone else is out," Rescorla replied.

Morgan Stanley officials say Rescorla also told employees that "today is a day to be proud to be American" and that "tomorrow, the whole world will be talking about you." They say he also sang "God Bless America" and Cornish folk tunes in the stairwells. Those reports could not be confirmed, although they don't sound out of character. He liked to sing in a crisis. But the documented truth is impressive enough. Morgan Stanley managing director Bob Sloss was the only employee who didn't evacuate the 66th floor after the first plane hit, pausing to call his family and several underlings, even taking a call from a Bloomberg News reporter. Then the second plane hit, and his office walls cracked, and he felt the tower wagging like a dog's tail. He clambered down to the 10th floor, and there was Rescorla, sweating through his suit in the heat, telling people they were almost out, making no move to leave himself.

Rick did not make it out. Neither did two of his security officers who were at
his side. But only three other Morgan Stanley employees died when their building was obliterated. (4)

However, over 2600 employees of Dean Whitter walked out of the south tower and in to the rest of their lives that morning.

Incredibly, you can "meet" Rick Rescorla via video interview made in 1998. He discusses Ia Drang and beyond, with some chilling words for the world today. Remind yourself as you watch and listen that he was speaking in 1998. Must see. Amazing.

Listen to the man and then you can add your signature to an online petition calling on the President to award the Medal of Freedom to Rick Rescorla.




People who knew Rescorla note that all this is exactly what he wouldn't want.

He shunned public praise for his past heroism, kept his war photos and medals in a closet, and told his wife he didn't want to see the Mel Gibson movie based on "We Were Soldiers" when it came out. To the friends he left behind, his death made a kind of cosmic sense on a day when the universe was out of order: The right man in the right place at the right time. He left in a blaze of glory. With no parade. Rescorla was a man who didn't need to be reminded of the high price of freedom.
However we do.(4)

Perhaps a Shakespeare quote then?

"His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world 'This was a man!'"

The tragedy of 911 was this multiplied by three thousand.

Never forget.

Never, Never, Never, Never, Ever Forget.

I can't. The kudzu runs around my soul and brain as well as my heart. It has become part of me and cannot be removed or I die.

God Bless the little children

The joys of moving from a home of 16 yrs to a new place are many and varied.

You find things you had forgotten you had. You find thing you wonder why you kept. You find boxes of things you had not unpacked since the last move.

And sometimes you find a treasure. I found my stainless steel helical screw. I found the fart fan for the bathroom which was never installed. I found the automated dialing machine which was to be used in a junk phone call program to sell insurance or something. I found the supposedly wonderful fire detectors and alarms which were way over priced, and were never used.

Boxes of receipts and checkbooks looong ago closed out. Forms out of date and useless when new.

But the best treasure I found was a kodak instamatic picture of me holding our youngest child when about 1 year old or maybe just a little more. ( She just had her 25th birthday) and her own child is 3 months old.

I had forgotten how curley and blonde her hair was.

One thing I had never forgotten was how wonderful it was to hold her as she slept.

There's just something complete about having your child fall asleep in your arms. Almost as if they trust you for some strange reason. Little do they suspect the demons that lurk within. All of which were well caged and restrained.. Only now does she have any clue, a small one. One which she respects and is proud of.

A tendril around my heart and soul which I have no desire of removing.

I'm thinking of making this my profile picture. What do you think?

Thursday, September 07, 2006

He's Back

Oh Man! I have internet service again.
Funny how addictive it gets. I was having serious withdrawal pains from not being able to read my favs.

Moved into the new house in Athens Ga. Smaller which means I don't have room for all my very important and necessary stuff . So I sit here surrounded by boxes and piles of papers and other oddities, everything but money. Funny How much it costs move 50 miles.

But, the wife is happy with the 'real floors'. That counts for a lot.

Toby the yorkie doesn't like it so much since he has to be on a leash outside. He's an inside dog, and shy, so it embarasses him to have to "Go" with someone beside him. Well, it would make me a little hesitant too I guess.

Fighting with the kudzu of too much to do and too little time.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Why do we let this go on?

NOW THIS really chaps my ass.

Can you give me one good reason that we have for allowing these bastards to keep their headquarters on American soil?

Soil that our founding fathers fought for. That good men and women worked to turn into productive farm land. That entrepreneurs turned into cities of commerce and industry. Soil that was the scene of bloody struggle for individual rights. Soil that raised sons and daughters who went, and even today go to foreign soil to try to ensure that everyone in the whole world can enjoy the freedoms that we posess. Soil that we today are in danger of losing unless we wake up sufficent people to the dangers from without and within this once great nation.

My roots are deep in the red soil of the foothills of Georgia, and this nation, and like Kudzu will be hard to pull from, but, even Kudzu can be killed if the poison is continuiously applied, or if the goats are allowed to graze all the time.

Friday, August 25, 2006

On the move

We inked the option to buy from our purchaser today. Boy did we get hosed. No one to blame but myself.

Fortunately we will have enough to move into an empty house I was trying to sell.
Maybe even enough to start a new little start up company with a friend from the church unit I used to attend. Keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

Talked to another friend and he and his partner just happen to want to do something near where we'll be going. Some possibilities there also.

Lil' Toni! told me that when God closes a door he opens a window. Praying for that, and greatful for blessings already received.

On the upside, the wife is glad we'll be moving into a house with as she says, "Real Floors".

I know kudzu grows there. Some in the back of the lot.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The love of money is the root of all evil.

Didja ever notice that some people can never have enough?

Didja ever know a person who always has to have their cake and eat it too?

Didja ever see a person who would dump his mothers body out of the casket if he needs it to stack his money in? Or he thought he might get a refund on it.

Why will some people who claim to be good (_________) (insert what ever religion you wish here) forget all about it when they smell blood in the air.

You can't take it with you.

One old mizer loved his gold so much that he begged and prayed to be allowed to carry his to heaven with him. When he got to the customs table just outside the pearly gates and his suitcase was opened, St. Peter asked, "Why'd you bring asphalt with you?

Do you really believe that the size of your mansion in heaven will correspond to the one you left behind?

Did you ever notice that many of our servants in the legislatures come out much richer than when they went in?

Did you ever wonder, 'why do we keep electing them'?

Blogging may be a little sparse, (so what's new) for a while. Moving in the near future. Maybe if I'm a good boy there'll be DSL or Broadband available.

Try to stay out of the kudzu. Little japanese children will go to bed hungry if you trample all over it.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The Night the lights went out in Georgia

Wow boy did the blackness ever get to me last night. May have to up the dosage of a few things.

Just a little self pity party people. Nothing to see here. Move along now.

With the Dawn of a new day hope springs eternal in this old breast. They say when one door closes another opens. I'm looking for that next door. Hope it's not the one to the outhouse.

Now that's something I haven't used in years. When I was a kid it wasn't uncommon at all for people to have an out house. Wooden shanty built over a hole in the ground. Boy, oh boy, is that ever a smell that you remember for a long time.

My parents house had indoor plumbing, but my grandparents eventhough they had running water and a bath room complete with the porcilan throne, kept an outhouse outside. Down past the cloths line where granny hung the washing to dry. She always put those leg formers in my grandpas work pants. She had her own steam ironing press in the sewing room where she would press all their clothes. Grandpa could not go out looking sloopy. Even if it was to go to the dairy barn to milk their herd of 100 holstein, guernsey, and jersey cows.

Just down below us lived a family whose water was drawn from a hand dug well with a bucket let down on a windless. Boy was that water good on a hot summer day.

Their outhouse was about 150 ft below the house just above a gulley which ran down thur the pasture and eventually to a creek. I remember Milton and I playing in that gully pretending to be Jessie James and his gang.

One day we saw his older sister go into the outhouse. I might mention that the sided of that particular outhouse were made of tin. Boy,was it ever hot in july on a cloudless day.
Being the bad and bold Jessie James Gang we snuck closer, closer, gathering fist sized rocks and clumps of red Georgia clay in our hands for ammo.

FIRE!!!! BOOM !! BOOM !! Hell and Brimstone rained down on the tin walls of that outhouse. Open flew the door and that old gal ran out of there scattering Sears and Roebuck Catalog pages and scrambling to pull her drawers up, curses raining down on mine and Miltons heads as we scampered off laughing histerically.

Needless to say we had to stay out until after dark, to escape the beating both of us so rightly deserved.