One of my Amish neighbors just opened a harness shop and I was offered a tour. Afterward, I thought he’d be interested in knowing the history of E.L. McClain and his invention of a hinged collar and the manufacturer of collars and horse pads. He said he’d heard that Greenfield’s high school had been built by a millionaire but wasn’t aware of the source of the wealth. We both learned a little something and he sincerely enjoyed the story about McClain’s collars.
A couple of friends recently visited Savannah, GA and posted some food photos on Facebook. They mentioned the names of a couple of restaurants they visited but not Paula Dean’s place. I’ve never eaten at Dean’s and probably never will after her fall from Food Network grace. But, I do have a story to tell.
Sometime in the late ’90s a friend and myself were headed to Florida for a fishing trip. We decided to take I-95 going through Savannah and stopping at Dean’s for lunch. We were in a large van and pulling an 18′ boat making a parking place hard to find. My friend was handicapped and used a modified crutch to get around. So, I drove by Dean’s and dropped him off to secure a place in line while I found a place to park the boat.
Going into the service does lots of things for a young man from small-town America. One of the most important is introducing him to the great variety of humankind we share this nation with.
In boot camp, I met my first person from the state of Washington, learned some of the slang of Italian-Americans from the steel mill towns of Pennsylvania, and had to learn how to pronounce a Polish kid’s name containing almost no vowels.
I’ve recently been scouring through things I’ve written over the years since retiring from teaching. I came across the following that I penned as I neared my sixtieth birthday. Well, In a few days I’ll turn seventy-seven and I decided to reprise this list of seventeen years ago.
As my sixtieth birthday approached I began thinking about what being sixty meant. If anything it certainly means you’ve lived long enough to have reached a few conclusions or truths about life, people, places, government, etc. With this in mind, I took a tape
Several weeks ago a fellow on Facebook was seeking input on what local high-speed Internet ISP services were available, he was still using telephone dial-up. Almost instantly my eyes bugged out and my ears rang with the memories of 56K squealing as they strained to make a connection to AOL (America Online) or some other provider.
I was listening to NPR recently and in the discussion, it was mentioned that much of Trump’s support comes from people who distrust learned people. People who are educated and have some degree of expertise in a field of knowledge. Even people who are not formally educated but who have taken the time to acquire a significant body of information from either reading or experience have experienced this rejection.
I have no problem agreeing with this assertion. Many times I’ve seen people who can’t get beyond their own “gut” feelings or unfounded assumptions and become defensive when they are challenged. Trump himself has exhibited such behavior. We’ve all heard him say that such and such is correct because he just knows it is, his gut tells him it is.
Trump came out in favor of Israel taking sovereignty over the hotly disputed Golan Heights and America’s Secretary of State is all a giggle over the possibility of a new messiah, Donald Trump.
Appearing with the soon to be indicted Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Pompeo was asked if Trump could, with the backing of God, be the savior of the Jews? Pompeo replied…
“As a Christian, I certainly believe that’s possible, I am confident the Lord is at work here.”
This story came out of a chain of events. On Facebook, several of us were talking about the late Mac Wiseman and how his voice was so unique and that led me to think about Texas songwriter Guy Clark, who also had a unique and warm voice. I then went to YouTube and came upon a video of Clark singing “The Cape.” The lyrics of Clark’s song brought back a memory of Tom Rambo and several of us neighborhood kids reenacting something we’d seen in a movie serial.
There was a Saturday matinee serial featuring some guys who flew around in phony looking spaceships wearing something that resembled a two-gallon bucket on their heads and capes that attached to their necks and ran down their backs attaching to the wrists and ankles. When they saw something bad happening on the ground they zoom down in their rocket, open the side door, and leap into the air with their arms and legs spread out akin to a flying squirrel. They’d then swoop onto the bad guys, subdue them, and save the day.
Some of you may recall that at one time the only option we mortals had for home movies was an 8mm silent camera. Other than being the only option, the product sucked. All the neighborhood kids running round in blurry, grainy, flickering black and white globs of motion and dust.
Then came Super 8mm cameras and the quality became… I haven’t a clue. Other than costing more money I can’t say much more without Googling.
Every day there accrues a list of things that piss me off. Unless I keep notes the list is too long at the end of a given day to remember. That is a good thing, however, because it makes starting a new day a little easier. While I didn’t write anything down today here’s what I do recall.
- Donald Trump made a simple slip of the tongue and called the CEO of Apple, Tim Cook, Tim Apple. Instead of just thumping his forehead and saying duh he had to make it look like he intended to call him that. He claimed he called him Tim Apple to save time. Seriously, has this egotistical asshole ever admitted to making a simple human error?
- One of the worst SCOTUS decisions ever was Citizens United. Effectively it threw open the doors to campaign contributions. Mitt Romney just got hit with the biggest campaign violation fine since Citizens. His PAC, Right to Rise, illegally accepted $1.3 million from a Chinese owned corporation and was fined by the FEC $390,000. Don’t be surprised to learn that Trump gets found out for the same things.
The governor of Virginia is under fire for appearing on his medical school yearbook page either in blackface or in the uniform of a KKK member. The date was 1984, twenty years after the signing of civil rights acts and even more years since the murder of Emmett Till, the Montgomery bus boycott, or the beating of Selma marchers. Plenty of years to have learned that blackface and KKK costumes were not appropriate party wear. Plenty of time to learn that many things are offensive and that society, in general, should become aware and adjust their behaviors.
WALKING BY THE TV I heard a guy on Dr. Phil say he was better at telling lies than truths. He just couldn’t tell the truth. If he is 35 he’s now qualified to be president of the US.
During the mid-1960s I was a student at Cerritos College in Norwalk, California. Cerritos had a football team called the Falcons and apparently, they were pretty good at the time. While I never attended one of their regular season games they did win a spot in a small college bowl game in Bakersfield called The Potato Bowl.
For whatever reason, several friends and I decided to make the drive. The Potato Bowl was played in a stadium that was literally a bowl dug into the earth and surrounded by bleacher seats.
The following photo was posted on Facebook by what I assume was a satire group. The claim was made that Ted Cruz spoke with the MAGA teenager about learning to live with “punchable face” syndrome. I’m not going to look it up but I’ll assume there is no such thing in the journals of medicine and it’s a joke. But, take a close look at the side by side photos and tell me you don’t see at least these two things:
- They both have faces that with a couple of Miller High Lifes in you, you’d be tempted to punch.
- MAGA boy could be Ted Cruz’ love child. There is obviously a shared DNA.
People talk about the evils of big business, big tobacco, big pharma, big hospitals and all the other “big” that seem to be monopolizing our lives. After watching my son I have to now add “big latex” to the list.
When I was a kid the only rubber gloves I remember people having in their homes were a pair of thicker yellow gloves with fuzzy liners that some women used to ward off “dishpan hands.” I don’t recall my mother using those or anything other than her bare hands to wash dishes, kill a chicken, mop the bathroom floor, or scrub the tub and toilet.