Lipstick, I Guess??????

I can blame George Takei for this one. Mr. Sulu from the Star Trek series of televisions shows and movies. You know for an older man he is quite the internet sensation. Anyway I followed a Facebook post of his to Amazon and learned things I didn't want to know. In the spirit of making you share my pain you get to learn new things too.

Here is the product description from Amazon.

"My New Pink Button (tm) is a temporary dye to restore the youthful pink color back to your labia. There is no other product like it. This patent pending formula was designed by a Paramedical Esthetician after she discovered her own gential color loss. While looking online for a solution she discovered thousands of other women asking the same questions regarding their color loss. After countless searches revealing no solution and a discussion with her gynecologist she decided to create her own. Now there is a solution!"

This raises so many questions. Where do I begin? First what in the hell is a Paramedical Esthetician? Women really are concerned about the color of their labia? They ask questions about this? To whom? Why? Are women really out there going: "You know Marge my labia has just lost its youthful pink glow. How about yours? How do you fix that? Does your husband Bob care? Has he noticed?"

I enjoyed the customer comments.

Birdhouse stated: "I bought this product as a special surprise for 10 year wedding anniversary. The pink did NOT stay on my button! My husband's smile is a lot rosier..."

RP and DM stated: "This product was difficult to apply evenly and quite frankly boring to use. I think I would get a better and longer lasting result if it came with a vibrating applicator."

Harris Ellesberg wrote: "First, does it work on other areas downtown, or is this really a ladies only product? I'm not saying I need it repackaged in a "My New Balloon Knot" tin, I'm just curious if it works chemically. Second, what is the brightest color they make? Somehow I suspect "Audry" is pretty refined. Classy. I'm looking more for something along the lines of "Enraged Baboon" or "Fleet Week".

As far as being the only product of its kind, well Amazon also offers the following.

That concludes today's public or perhaps pubic service announcement.

Solutions? Didn't Realize There Was a Problem

Sometimes you get things in the mail and you don't know how or why you got them. This one landed in our mailbox on Tuesday the 25th.

 Seems like a good idea. Who doesn't want products that make life easier.

 Battery powered beauties. Teddi and Lilly might like a little mood lighting to pee by.

 Pest control seems like a good idea. Keep those damn mosquitos away.

Solid hardwood, should have seen this as a warning about was was ahead.

Did not see that on the hoirzon. Flip the page in the catalog and they want to put you in a happy place. I like how they start the page off with "It's all about options." Move quickly to "Bends so you can reach new levels of pleasure." They can't be talking about us old people. Bending. Please. Bubbles massager! Is that her name? Vibrating, rotating, waterproof. Instant delivery. How could an old man compete with that? I'm not even sure what to say about item E. Does that come with an instruction manual? Somehow sex education in the 1960's missed all this. Let your inner flower bloom? WTF. In case you get curious be careful what you google.

Carol is 59

Today is Carol's birthday. She turns 59 today. It is a wonderful occasion. We started dating when I was 17 and she was 16. It is getting to the point where I don't remember life without her. She has always been there keeping me company. Guiding me when I try to do something stupid. Encouraging me when a stumble and reminding me that setbacks are temporary. Loving me at times when I was sure no one should or could or would. She is the mother to our three wonderful children and a grandmother to six of the greatest young ladies in the world. She is the reason I get up in the morning and the woman I want to sleep with at night. We have grown older together. Grown closer as the years go by. There are less days left ahead then there were behind so we treasure the days we have left.

 The picture above was taken in 1978. Carol is holding Jeremy. I appear dazed. As a 24 year old with two children I should have looked that way.

 This is Carol and I at my graduation from WIU in 1976. If she had not been willing to work so I could go to school this never would have happened. She is pregnant with our daughter Tamara.

This one is about 6 years ago. The youthful look is off both of us. Still, any day I can sit with my sweetheart out here in BFE is a great day.

Times Change

It seems nothing changes in the world faster than digital technology. The picture below is a 250 megabyte hard drive from about 40 years ago.

 

The next picture is a personal computer from the 1980's. Note the price and the size of the hard drive. You couldn't do anything with that machine now. Well maybe a paperweight.



The next picture is two flash drives. One from 2004 and the other from 2014. Roughly the same size but 64 megabytes of storage vs. 64 gigabytes.

How many of the following storage options have you used? The answer will reveal clues about your age.

The final picture is all too true. I watch our granddaughters with facination as they do things with computers that I won't attempt. They have no fear of technology. They aren't worried about losing data or programs. They click and swipe and type and play with abandon. I don't remember being two years old but I'm sure this is what I was doing.

Traveling

It would seem a good idea to gather some information if you are traveling to the United States from another country. The items listed below are from a Japanese site that advises visitors or customs in the U. S.

1. Dinner Plates. Be prepared to be disappointed. In Japan a person eating gets as many individual plates as needed for the meal. In America a large bowl may be placed in the middle of the table and you take as much as you want from there and place it on a big dish called a dinner plate. In Japan you eat because you are hungry. In America it is a time to build relationships. There may be decorative tableware that has been handed down generations especially at holiday meals. American food is flat in taste. There are no little secret ingredients. There is no U.S. cuisine and almost nothing special to eat based on the season. Americans like food that is sweet, high in fat, and high in calories.

2. Rough Areas. In Japan hip hop clothes are considered stylish. In America it is wise to avoid them as you may be mistaken for a street gang member. Rough areas are where there are less people on the street, lots of graffiti, windows and doors fitted with bars and young people wearing hip hop clothes.

3. Alcohol. Americans do not have a sense of superiority about how much you can drink or how much you have to drink to get drunk. If you drink a lot there is a sense that you cannot control yourself. Non-smokers are also thought superior to smokers.

4. Free time. Americans make room for leisure time on weekdays and weekends. During the week the time is used for activities like watching movies, bowling, reading or volunteering. They enjoy even more leisure on weekends. In Japan we believe there is no free time during the week, only the weekend.

5. Sarcasm. If you are going to communicate with Americans you must know how to use sarcasm.

6. Laugh. In Japan a woman covers her mouth when she laughs so she does not show her mouth. In America you do not turn away. You open your mouth and laugh in a loud voice.

7. Grocery shopping. Cashiers are slow. Very slow compared to Japan. Be prepared for things to be slow and talk to other shoppers in the line to pass the time.

8. Vending machines. Vending machines in America only dispense carbonated beverages. Even the things you think are juices are carbonated beverages.

9. Optimism. Americans are weirdly optimistic. In Japan there is a great fear of failure in front of other people. It is better to do nothing than to be criticized for failure. In America you can make mistakes and it doesn't matter. They feel it is better to try and see what happens.

Well the Japanese have some strange ideas about us. All I can say is that I have never met a foreigner who understood sarcasm. Humor is such a cultural thing and the language nuances in humor just fly by most who do not have a very strong background in American English and culture.

Small Towns- America's Heart

Not far from where we live is a small town called Abingdon, Illinois. We lived there for a brief period of time when I worked at the Mary Davis Home. When you enter town from the north or south there is a sign that tells you Abingdon was the home town of two Congressional Medal of Honor recipients. One is perhaps familiar to you as it is Admiral James Stockdale. He was awarded the Medal for his actions as a POW during the Vietnam war. This will be the story of the other man who earned this award for his valor.

Robert Hugo Dunlap was born on October 19, 1920 in Abingdon. He graduated from high school there in 1938. He had an active high school career participating in football, basketball, track and school plays. Following graduation from high school he attended Monmouth College in Monmouth, Illinois. He was treasurer of the student body as a senior and majored in economics and business administration. On March 5, 1942 while still a student he enlisted in the Marine Corps Reserve. He was promoted to private first class and placed on the inactive list until he graduated in May 1942. He was then called to active duty and transferred to Officer Candidates School at Quantico, Virginia. On July 18, 1942 he was commissioned a second lieutenant. He requested and was granted parachute training and was designated a parachutist on November 23, 1942. In April 1943 he was promoted to first lieutenant and participated in the invasions of Vella Lavella and Bougainville during late 1943. At Bougainville on December 9, 1943 his platoon was pinned down by heavy Japanese machine gun fire. He exposed himself to the heavy fire and was able to rally his platoon and get it into position ot reoccupy the lost ground. His actions resulted in a letter of commendation from Admiral William F. Halsey.

He returned to the United States in March 1944 to join the 5th Marine Division and became a machine gun platoon leader in Company G, Third Battalion, 26th Marines. He was shipped overseas again and promoted to Captain on October 2, 1944. On February 19, 1944 during the Iwo Jima campaign he lead his company through a hail of artillery, mortar, rifle and machine gun fire determined to advance from the low ground to steep cliffs. When enemy fire got too heavy Captain Dunlap held up his company and crawled forward alone about 200 yards forward of his front lines. From his postion at the base of the cliffs about 50 yards from the Japanese front lines he was able to spot the enemy gun positions. He returned to his lines and relayed the information to supporting artillery and naval fire units. He then placed himself in an exposed position to more accurately direct the supporting fire. He worked without respite for two days and nights under constant enemy fire. He directed a smashing bombardment against almost impregnable enemy positions. His company suffered heavy casualities but his inspiring leadership and fighting spirit encouraged his men and the enemy in his sector was decisively defeated.

He was wounded in the hip by a bullet on February 26, 1945 and evacuated from Iwo Jima. He was hospitalized for 14 months at hospitals in Guam, Pearl harbour, San Francisco and Great Lakes, Illinois. He was presented the Medal of Honor by President Harry Truman at the White House on December 18, 1945. He was discharged from the hospital on April 20, 1946 and went on inactive duty September 1946. He retired as a major on December 1, 1946.

He died March 24, 2000 and was buried in the Warren County Memorial Park in Monmouth, Illinois.

The Presidential Citation reads as follows:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Commanding Officer of Company C, First Battalion, Twenty-Sixth Marines, Fifth Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese forces during th seizure of Iwo Jima in the Volcano Islands, on 20 and 21 February 1945. Defying uninterrupted blasts of Japanese artillery, mortar, rifle and machine-gun fire, Captain Dulap led his troops in a determined advance from low ground uphill toward the steep cliffs from which the enemy poured a devastating rain of shrapnel and bullets, steadily inching forward until the tremendous volume of enemy fire from the caves located high to his front temporarily halted his progress. Determined not to yeild,he crawled forward alone approximately 200 yards forward of his front lines, took observation at the base of the cliff 50 yards from Japanese lines, located the enemy gun position and returned to his own lines where he relayed the vital information to supporting artillery and naval gunfire units. Persistently disregarding his own personal safety, he placed himself in an exposed poeition to direct more accurately the supporting fire and, working without respite for two days and two nights under constant enemy fire, skillfully directed a smashing bombardment against the almost impregnable Japanese positions despite numerous obstacles and heavy Marine casualities. A brilliant leader, Captain Dunlap inspired his men to heroic efforts during this critical phase of the battle and by his cool decision, indomitable fighting spirit and daring tactics in the face of fanatic opposition greatly accelerated the final decisive defeat of Japanese countermeasures in his sector and materially furthered the continued advance of his company. His great personal valor and gallant spirit of self-sacrifice throughout the bitter hostilities reflect the highest credit on Captain Dunlap and the United States Naval Service.

So there you have the best and the brightest of small town America. Called to duty he did his best and led his men. As an interesting side note Robert Hugo Dunlap and James Stockdale are cousins. It must have made for interesting family reunions.

Man's Best Friend

Signs that your dog is your best friend.

1. Lilly and Teddi share my meals. They sit next to me. Lilly on my left and Teddi on my right. They watch intently as I eat and stare in wonder as the fork goes to my mouth and not one of theirs. A meal does not go by where they are shut out of the food. I buy bologna and hot dogs just for them to eat. They sit near me because they instinctly knew I was the easy mark.

2. They go to the bathroom with me. I don't like an audience when I'm in the bathroom but they don't seem to care. They must be my best friends because at almost 60 and overweight a naked me is not a handsome sight. In addition if you are a long time reader you may remember a blog post about the power of a dog's nose. Without going into detail let's just say that sometimes I am in a hurry to get out of that room. What the hell did I eat that caused that odor?

3. Time. If I am gone for 10 minutes Teddi and Lilly are excited to see me come back in the house. Hell, I've walked out the door, forgotten something in the house, gone back in and there they are tails wagging happy to see me. They come running when we get home and are looking for some attention or maybe a snack. McDonalds double cheeseburgers are on the menu for them once in a while.

4. Mind reading. Most of the time I can look at Lilly or Teddi and know what they want. Often enough to worry me, they can read me as well. If there is a heaven dogs will be there. If they aren't it won't be heaven. Maybe then they can talk and let us know they actually can read minds. I am already sure of it but I want them to say it.

5. They sleep with us. Lilly is the queen of the bed. She lets you get all settled then picks the spot she wants and makes you move. Teddi starts the night under the bed. When she is sure everyone is asleep she jumps up on the bed and cuddles up against your legs. When the alarm goes off Teddi is the one in your face licking you back to reality.

I Wasn't Done

This is not the post I had in my head to write today. It was going to be something different. Something soft and fluffy. One of those feel good pieces. Then I did my normal morning reading and this story just eats away at my soul like a cancer. Yesterday I wrote about Michael Dunn and maybe today I will finish my thoughts on him and his crimes. He really is a sideshow to what I am trying to say today but the story starts with him. While in jail awaiting trail Mr. Dunn had a number of telephone conversations with his girlfriend. Transcripts and recordings of some of those calls have been released. Keep in mind I worked for over 20 years in an adult prison. All the telephone calls are recorded. It is not a secret. It is clearly posted by the phones and inmates are advised. Special arrangements are made for them to have confidential telephone calls to their attorney if it is requested by the attorney in writing. So, I begin with two thoughts. First, Mr. Dunn is an idiot for making the comments he did on a telephone line he knew was recorded. Second, he's an idiot for so doing and thinking it would garner him any sympathy. Mr. Dunn on several occassions refers to himself as the victim in this incident which resulted in the death of Jordan Davis. I cannot begin to express how delusional I think his statements are. His idiotic rantings are not what caught my attention. It was the statements made by Jordan Davis' parents.

His father Ron Davis stated:

     "Michael Dunn should understand that the victim was the one that had a bullet go through his lungs, a bullet tear through his aorta. The victim was the one that was choking on his own blood and was gasping for air. The victim was a 17 year old teenager that should have had his whole life in front of him that was seeing his life go away in seconds, and he was probably so fearful- and his friends were looking on watching their best friend die in a monent of seconds- that's the victim."

I can't watch the video of the interview this quote was taken from because even in print it is so raw. The emotions so on edge. As a parent I think about my sons and daughter. How that kind of death would weigh on me. Nothing that they could do to Mr. Dunn would be sufficient to ease an ounce of my pain. It would haunt the remainder of my life.

His mother Lucia McBath stated:

     " What I would say to him is that not only did you take Jordan's life but you took my future. I won't have any grandchildren, I will never have a daughter-in-law. I don't have those things anymore, but what he'll need to understand is that in some way, shape or form, he will pay- even if we don't ever receive the verdit for Jordan. He will pay because he is going to spend the rest of his life in prison."

I have been blessed with a wonderful daughter-in-law who has, with our son, blessed us with three amazing granddaughters. I cannot imagine our lives without them. A life where instead of Jordan it was our son. The complete emptiness of never knowing the joys of what could have been. Watching the days go by and wondering, would he be graduating from high school now? College? Married? Children? The hollowness of birthdays he is not there to celebrate. A moment in time and so many victims. Jordan, Ron and Lucia, their friends and family. Everyone that has been touched by a senseless shooting empowered by a stupid law. There are many victims here but Michael Dunn NONE of them is YOU!

Zimmerman and Dunn

Florida doesn't appeal to me as a place to live. It is now rapidly falling down the list of places I want to visit. When George Zimmerman shot and killed Travon Martin there was some part of the average person who could see where a scuffle occurred and maybe there was a small chance that Zimmerman had to defend himself. Could a jury in those circumstances find reasonable doubt? I personally think they could have found doubt but that the doubt was not reasonable. It seems that the Michael Dunn case which resulted in the death of Jordan Davis shows the real problem with Florida's stand your ground law. If I have the relevant facts correct Jordan and several of his friends were listening to loud hip hop music in the parking lot of a convenience store. Mr. Dunn did not like the "thug" music and started an argument with the boys. Words were exchanged and Mr. Dunn determined he was in fear for his life and defended himself resulting in the death of Jordan Davis. In my mind all Mr. Dunn had to do was either make his purchase and leave or just leave without making a purshase. He instead chose to start a confrontation with a group of black teens. After starting the incident he gets to claim he got scared and starts shooting. I have a problem when Zimmerman and Dunn both seem to start the confrontation, get scared and someone else, someone unarmed, ends up dead.

It seems like too many people want to run away from the race issue here. It seems to me that the offense committed by Jordan Davis and Travon Martin is being black. It wasn't hoodies or hip hop music, it was being a young black male. It seems that society is all too willing to accept the fear of whites as an excuse to shoot young black males. Travon Martin and Jordan Davis both came from two parent homes. They were and are from all outward appearances good families. Yet in both cases their sons did not live to see their 19th birthdays. In both cases their killers were not convicted of murder. Our system has brought justice to neither family. I worked in an Illinois prison for over 20 years. The population was over 70% black and predominately young, generally under 30. Young black males don't scare me. They are of no special concern to me when I see them on the street. I feel no need to provoke a confrontation with them any more than they want one with me. It would be easy for them to make assumptions about me. I have lots of tattoos and a shaved head. I look like a biker. They may look and see someone they think has Aryan Brotherhood leanings. I never get that vibe. Maybe because I am not making assumptions about them they aren't making any about me. I just keep looking at these cases and seeing nothing but a couple of idiots creating a situation where they have an excuse to use their gun and figuring a jury of their peers will see it as standing their ground. It isn't and it wasn't. It was racism and prejudice that got two young black men killed for the offense of being black. It is wrong and it must stop. Ask yourself this. If the two victims had been white and the shooters had been black would we being talking about the killers walking free? White boys their age wear hoodies and listen to hip hop music. They wear their pants low and their attitudes can be threatening. What would the verdict be in those cases?

Stupid is as stupid does

I may have a little different perspective on this than most. Saturday night Jamie Coots pastor of the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Jesus Name in Middlesboro, Kentucky died from the bite of a timber rattlesnake. Coots' church believes in the literal interpretation of the King James Bible and bases their belief on Mark 16: 17 & 18 which states the following. "And these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." The folks in these churches believe they are obeying a biblical command when they handle snakes. Jamie Coots was bitten by a 2.5 foot long timber rattlesnake near the base of his right thumb. He quickly became sick and went to the bathroom to throw up. His son went to get car keys to take his father home when Pastor Coots lost consciousness. Five men carried him to his car and his son drove him home. Friends carried him into the house and placed him in his recliner. An ambulance was called but his wife refused to allow treatment saying to go to the hospital was against his religion. People of this faith typically rely on prayer for healing after being bitten. He was bitten between 8 and 8:30 and was pronounced dead at 10:16.

I have seen people claim to be healed by prayer. Were they really sick? They claimed to have been. Were they really healed? They claimed to be. Do some religious folks take advantage of this for monetary profit? I've seen that too. All I can say about Pastor Coots is that his faith was stronger than mine ever was or would ever be. No worries about me getting bitten by a snake in church. There are two reasons. One, I don't go to church anymore. Two, if I did and snakes come out, I am sooooo gone. Part of me wants to say: Pastor Coots, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you stupid or something? The answer is apparent. Bitten by a snake, refuses treatment, dies, stupid. I would offer that it was a success for natural selection. We thinned a slow stupid one from the herd but he did reach breeding age and fathered a son. The son is going to take over his father's duties in the church. Slow learners I guess.

On a related note a study released recently indicates that 25% of the American public believe that the sun revolves around the earth. Do you still wonder why the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans and Indians have more engineers and scientists than us. We have people arguing that the earth is 6,000 years old and that the sun revolves around the earth. Can any of these people read? Folks, the Bible is not a science book. It is a book about faith. It is allegories. It is an extended metaphor. It is not intended to be taken as literally true. Ask Pastor Coots. Oh wait, you can't because his literal beliefs got him dead. He is completely, totally, absolutely fucking dead. The truth is that dead men know nothing anymore about literal truth or allegories or metaphors.

Surprised Me

Surfing the internet from time to time provides you with a surprise or two. I own a motorcycle. I have for many years. There is something about riding that to me is closely associated with dogs. You take a drive in your car and roll down the window a bit and the first thing that happens is your dog sticks his head out the window. I would drive that way in the summer but I'm just not that flexible. Never have been. There may or may not be legal issues involved in driving with your head out the car window. Probably not an area of law I wish to explore.

 There is a happy man and a happy dog.

Just a great film and a great American adventure.

The article I ran across on the internet had to do with the 50 states being ranked for highest level of motorcycle ownership. This is not number of motorcycles but number of persons per motorcycle. As you would expect California and Florida would rank one and two as far as the number of motorcycles. When you look at how many people there are per mototcycle in California it is 47 and in Florida it is 33. In this method their respective ranks were 43 and 24. The states in the top three surprised me. Number 3 was Iowa with one motorcyle for each 18 residents. Coming in at number 2 was New Hampshire with one motorcycle for each 17 residents. The winner was South Dakota with one per each 12 residents. The national average is one motorcycle per 36 residents. While technically not a state the District of Columbia ranked dead last with one motorcyle for each 172 residents. It should tell us a little something. Perhaps we should look at who we are sending to Congress and the White House. Forget things like race and gender maybe it is time for a few bikers in D.C.

OK, I'm immature

Some things strike me as funny. From time to time I try to share a few of them here. When people name things you wonder what they were thinking. It includes the way some choose to name their children.

It does give me some small measure of satisfaction that both the Cubs and Cardinals are represented. I must however admit that my personal favorite has to be Dick Pole. Maybe even better if we could get the bottom two combined. What would be better Stubby Pole or Dick Clapp? Tough call. Dick LaCock seems repetitive.

I'm just not sure about staying at this place. By the way, what in the fuck is a minnow shot? I really don't think I want to have anything to drink that has something swimming in it.

Illinois

We went by our future home on Tybee Island, Georgia and took this picture on Thursday, February 13th in the afternoon.

Personally I think I did an excellent job capturing the potholes in the street. Pretty impressive for an amateur with his wife's iPad. We had decided to stay on Tybee Island due to the big winter storm that was predicted to pass just north of there. They were predicting heavy ice accumulations in central Georgia and South Carolina along with heavy snow in northern Georgia and Tennessee. No offense to those folks down south but they just lack the experience to drive in those conditions. We went to bed at the Dunes Motel knowing we would be leaving for home in the morning. As luck would have it neither of us could sleep much and about 3:00 a.m. we decided it was time to head for home. It is almost exactly 1,000 miles from door to door. At 3:30 a.m. the car was packed and we were on the road. Everything was going well and we hit Atlanta, Georgia during morning rush hour. It surprised us and we were able to zip right through. As we were going through I looked at the traffic and commented on how everything could be going great and one retard could bring it all to a halt. We folks about 20 miles north of the Atlanta downtown area some knuckle dragging, window licking, drooling, slope headed, slack jawed, mouth breathing, crayon eating jackass closed all of northbound I75. We got sent off on an exit ramp, run about 4 miles down the road and put back on the interstate. That 4 mile trip took about an hour. We made great time through the remainder of Georgia, Tennessee and Kentucky. The final leg of the trip is the great state of Illinois. Everything was fine until we got to Mt. Vernon. That is where the freezing rain started. As we headed north on I57 it eventually turned to snow and road conditions went downhill. Now in Georgia freezing rain and snow bring traffic to a standstill. This is Illinois.

Carol took this so I could concentrate on driving. Please note every vehicle in this picture is going at least 60 miles per hour. There is snow, blowing snow, ice and numerous cars and trucks in the ditches and median. As you drive by you give a look and think to yourself- sucks to be them. We drove in this kind of weather from Mt. Vernon to Champaign before turning west and driving I74 in the same crap all the way home. The trip started at the Dune Motel at 3:30 a.m. and ended at Budde's for pizza and beer at 8:00 p.m. Why not celebrate your safe arrival with a couple of cold ones with your regulars at your favorite bar?

As for southern drivers- you guys suck at this kind of driving. Stay down south in the winter and when you get a day or two of this down there do the right thing. STAY IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE!!!!!!!!

New House

This is the future home of Jeff and Carol on Tybee Island. Sorry the picture is not as clear as I would like. It was taken with Carol's iPad and it was a cloudy day here.

Today we went to see about furniture. It is an interesting process try to fill a house in beach style. It is not something us land locked Midwesterners ever think about.

We heard southern hospitality was not what it used to be. I can't say if it is or isn't since I did not know what it used to be. It seems to me everyone we have had the pleasure of working with so far has been extremely cordial. It is a different lifestyle out here on the island with everyone taking a very laid back approach to things.

On a different note we learned that one of the biggest St. Patrick's Day celebrations in the United States is held in of all places Savannah, Georgia. The normal population of Savannah is about 200,000. On St. Patrick's Day weekend this year they expect the city population to be somewhere between 800,000 and 1,000,000. We will not add to the misery that must cause.

We Did It

Well we put in a bid on a house yesterday and after a bit of back and forth today we settled. So after the closing on March 7th we will own a home on Tybee Island. If you want to take a look at things then google 18 Anderson Court Tybee Island, Georgia.

There are some things you learn when you go to a new place. We went to Huc A Poos last night and ordered nachos. They were okay but they weren't Budde's nachos. They will never be Budde's nachos. A couple of nights ago we had pizza from Lighthouse Pizza. It wasn't Budde's pizza. It was okay. We have had several meals at Sting Rays Seafood. This is where Tybee Island kicks back home's ass. You don't get this seafood back home. It was in the ocean yesterday and it is on your plate today. Cooked perfectly. We have been going to a bar called Benny's. The bartender is a very nice lady named Tess. She doesn't know a stranger. We got to meet the owner today. His name is Benny Bob. I said something about that being a southern thing with the two names and got schooled. It is a mountain thing and he wants to be called Benny. The beer is cold but the selection is thin. Craft beer is not a staple on Tybee Island. Maybe we will lead them into a place where beer is not quite so cold and actually has some flavor. The place isn't Budde's but it is a dive kind of place we like.

Change comes to all of us from time to time and for Carol and I it is time for a change. They were complaining about the cold here today. It was 37. STFU. That ain't cold.

Georgia on my mind

We got up this morning (Tuesday) on Tybee Island to a temperature of 50 degrees. You always wonder how things are at home so we checked and it was 16 degrees below zero. Anyone wondering why we are looking at houses down here. We looked at a couple of great houses today but decided they were just too big and honestly a bit out of our price range. It is surprising how much more house $75,000 will buy. We just looked at it as more square footage to clean and maintain. We did put a bid in on a house that we felt was the right size and price for us. We may get a response tomorrow. In the meantime we are relaxing and having a few beers with the locals. They are surprisingly friendly and willing to chat. The average population age here is over 50 so that helps. Over the past we have looked at 19 houses. After a while you walk in and look and think either ok or no fucking way.

House Hunting on the Island

We spent today looking for a suitable place to move to on Tybee Island. It is surprising how many shitholes you have to look at in hopes of finding a diamond. Perhaps I was being too picky but I really don't want to move down here to fix something up. I realize that people want to sell places and wonderif they think it is too much trouble to clean the carpets. While you may not want to fix up the place you are selling, is cleaning too much to ask? I think out of the 10 homes we toured there were a couple that seemed very nice. We are going to see about 5 more tomorrow and then try to make a decision. It is not an easy process.

Last night it was seafood at A.J.'s Dockside. Today it was Stingrays with seafood on the plates again. The scallops, oysters, shrimp, fish and hush puppies were excellent. It is the quality of seafood we never seem to see in the Midwest. I told our realtor today that I don't eat steaks out here because they don't understand steak. That is our midwest speciality. So we will enjoy all the seafood we can out here.

Travel

We attended Carol's sisters wedding yesterday. She is a deeply and fundamentally religious woman and her husband shares her faith. The thing that stuck some at the ceremony was their very personal vows. She promised to love, honor and obey him with the additional statement that she would be submissive to him. I understood what she said and what she meant. It is to be taken in the context of Christ's love for his church. Her husband is biblically admonished to love his wife as Jesus loves his followers. Submission then is not her husband ruling over her but loving her in a manner that always considers what is best for both of them. It is unfortunate that many in fundamentalist churches understand the requirement that their wives be submissive but fail to show them the unconditional love Christ showed his church.

We left Lexington on Sunday morning in the midst of a snowstorm. It was nothing like Illinois snow and we sped along at 70+ mph. When we got into North Carolina the snow stopped. By the time we got to South Carolina the temperature was up to 60 degrees. Eventually we saw a high of 68. Anyone wonder why I'm tired of Illinois? We sped along at 80 to 85 mph during the afternoon and didn't see any police until we got on Interstate 95 in South Carolina. They were out hot any heavy. It did not slow any of us down but from time to time we would sacrifice a fellow traveler to the blue lighted bastards.

Tybee Island was finally made and after securing a room for the night it was off to A.J.'s Dockside for some awesome seafood and some very high alcohol rum punch.

Tomorrow the house hunt begins!

Tybee

If all has gone according to plan Carol and I have spent Friday on the road to Lexington, Kentucky. On Saturday we attended the wedding of her sister Florence. Sunday we got back in the car and headed east to Tybee Island, Georgia.

If you follow this blog then you may remember that Carol and I along with John and his family vacationed there last May. My post earlier in January about surrender was accurate. We do not intend to spend another winter in Illinois. We are going to Tybee Island to look for a place to spend at least half the year. While I am not a big fan of moving anywhere that I can see another house from mine, I have had enough of winter. We woke up this morning to a temperature of -12 degree F. It was 50 degrees on Tybee Island this morning. It is now 2:30 in the afternoon in Western Illinois and the temperature is a balmy 4 degrees F. On Tybee Island it is 3:30 in the afternoon and it is 52 degrees F.

I will keep you all posted on our house hunt. We have been in contact with a realtor there and are looking forward to seeing what the area has to offer. For the geographically challenged Tybee Island is just a few miles south and east of Savannah, Georgia and is one of the barrier islands. The folks down there say that "Changes in latitude are good for the soul." Maybe it will also be true that changes in latitude lead to changes in attitude.

Priorities

This is going to be a very short post. I am going to ask each reader to go do something. Go to your browser and type in:

nationalpriorities.org/cost-of/

Take a look at what the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have cost us. It isn't the true cost in my mind, the true cost is the young men and women who died. Those precious folks who left behind mom and dads, brothers and sisters, spouses and children, friends and coworkers. All of them, every one of them, touched multiple lives. Their lives have ended and those they touched have been irrecocably changed.

See what we spend on national defense, homeland security, education, environment and food assistance. Use your tax payments and see how the money you provided was spent. Make changes in the numbers and see what else those tax dollars could buy. It is like the commercial says, "It's your money."

When you have done all that please take a minute and write a comment. Don't be afraid to be critical. Don't feel obligated to agree with me or try to guess what I will find acceptable. It is just time for a meaningful conversation about our national priorities. Let's grab the steering wheel and see if we can't turn this conversation some other direction if that is where folks want to go. If you have trouble with the comments section here send me an email.

jeffsutor@live.com

Power

It seems one thing that is often underestimated is the power of forgiveness. It is not important for the other person, it is vital for you. It isn't that they deserve forgiveness, it is because you do. Forgiveness will liberate you from your past. It allows you to look forward with home rather than back with bitterness and regret. When you forgive it releases all the resentment you have carried in your heart. It leaves an empty space you can fill with love, hope and compassion.

If someone mistreated you in the past you don't need to continue their work for them. Let it go. All that holding on to mistreatment or abuse does is create unhappiness and bitterness in your heart. Start with something small and realize how much lighter it makes you feel to have set down that burden of mistrust and hurt. You will find you are happier and more at peace with the world around you. It is rather simple, let go of the resentment and pain and fill your heart with love and trust. Stop giving those who have mistreated you power over your life and your thoughts.

It isn't easy to change the way you think. What seems more effective is to change the way you behave. The feelings will follow the actions. If you look around and see someone who needs help then do that. Be a friend or a helper, a person of comfort in their time of trouble. You will likely find that your feelings about your trials and tribulations will change. You will have a new perspective and be less concerned with how you have been wronged in the past.

Not everything will go according to plan. Mistakes will be made. Learn from them. If they cause someone else pain do you best to make them right and seek forgiveness.

Finally, take some time to be outside in nature. Go out at night and look up at the stars in the sky. Realize that everything around you is in some manner a miracle. Take a little time to appreciate them and get away from the nonsense and drama on television. It is a wonderful and joyous world out there waiting for you to participate in its wonders.

Use the power of forgiveness and find a new life.

From Sea to Shining Sea

There has been considerable clamor caused by Coca Colas advertisement during the Super Bowl. The ad was a multi-lingual rendition of America the Beautiful. It seems to offend many that the song was done in a language other than English. Why is that a problem? Isn't one of the most beautiful things about America our cultural diversity? We seem to rejoice in our ethnic neighborhoods. Chinatowns in Chicago, San Francisco, Washington D.C. to name a few places. The Hill in St. Louis is a glorious enclave of Italian culture and heritage. Hispanic neighborhoods are in every large American city and in many smaller ones. Rushville, Illinois is clearly not the cultural center of America yet it has a substantial Nigerian community. Just down the road in Beardstown there is a growing Hispanic community. Both groups have been drawn to the area to work in the meat packing industry. They speak their own language in the comfort of the homes but are working hard to assimilate into our culture. There is no attempt there to remake rural west central Illinois into something else. It is just folks from a far off land coming here and attempting to realize their American dream. My ancestors came to America from Ireland, England and Austria. My great grandfather had his name changed when he entered through Ellis Island because the clerk could not understand my great grandfather's language or could not spell. He spoke whatever language he wanted at home. He worked hard and realized his American dream but assimilation took time.

Glenn Beck stated the following: "You need that to divide us, politically? 'Cause that's all this ad is. It's an in your face- and if you don't like it, if you're offended by it, then you're a racist. If you do like it, well then you're for immigration. That's what this is. You're for progress. That's all this is- is to divide people." You are confused Glenn. It doesn't matter if you like or dislike the commercial. It isn't about progress or racism or immigration. I will admit that Coca Cola does want to get in your face with this ad. They want to get in your face with a big bottle of Coca Cola. They weren't trying to make a political statement. They were and are trying to sell a product that no one has to have to survive. Mankind got along just fine for hundreds of thousands of years without Coca Cola unless you are a religious fundamentalist who believes the world is 6,000 years old. In that case it was about 5,900 years. If there was no Coca Cola tomorrow the world would go on. We would go back to drinking other things, maybe even healthier things and wax nostalgic for the days when we could enjoy a Coca Cola. It was about sales. About appealing to groups on a day when they try to watch and understand a sport that is distinctly American. Football everywhere else in the world is called soccer in America. They watch our championship game and try to understand and embrace something new and unique to our country. The folks at Coca Cola understood this and tried to appeal to them in their own language. They tried to bring them into American culture by encouraging them to buy an overpriced product they don't need and is bad for their health. What could be more American than that?

She's NOT a Witch?

A while back I told the story of the Parsons. They are the family of my great grandmother Mary Emma Parsons Sutor. Today I want to tell the story of Mary Bliss Parsons. Mary Bliss was born in England and immigrated to the new continent where she met and married Cornet Joseph Parsons in November 1646. Joseph was an early settler of Springfield, Massachusetts where he is shown as a witness to a deed of land in 1636 purchased from Indians. He was a founder of Northhampton, Massachusetts and became a substantial landowner there. Mary, his wife, was apparently a very outspoken woman, nervous and haughty in demeanor. She appears to have considered herself a person of considerable importance and was domineering. Rumors began due to the family's success and there were implications that it came at the expense of other families and Mary's dealings with the devil. Her husband Joseph initiated a slander suit in 1656 which he won. Eighteen years later in 1674 Mary was officially accused, tried and aquitted of witchcraft. Mary Bliss Parsons was known to have fits so severe that her husband had to lock her up in the house to keep her from leaving. In August 1674 Mary Bridgman Bartlett wife of Samuel Bartlett died at the age of about 22. There had been a longstanding feud between the Bridgman's and the Parsons. On Spetember 29, 1674 Samuel Bartlett filed a complaint against Mary Bliss Parsons. The Hampshire County court received testimony and on January 5, 1675 conducted a hearing. Mary Bliss Parsons spoke in her own defense and her body was searched for "witch marks". The magistrates decided the case was beyond their jurisdiction and sent the case to the Court of Assistants in Boston. On March 2, 1675 Mary was taken to Boston and presented to the court. She was committed to prison until her trial in May. On May 13, 1675 she was aquitted by a jury of 12 men from the Boston area. It was felt by many that her freedom was purchased by the wealth and high standing of her husband Joseph. Mary's son Ebenezer was killed in September 1675 in a battle with Indians at Northfield. Many felt at the time it was punishment for Mary's dealings with the devil. "Though human judges may be bought off, God's vengeance neither turns aside nor slumbers."
Mary's husband Joseph died on October 9, 1683 leaving her an estate valued at over 2000 pounds. Mary lived nearly 30 years longer and appears to have amassed a considerable fortune with the money he left her.
In a brief side note Mary Bliss Parsons my ninth great grandmother was the seventh great grandmother of Marion Michael Morrison born May 26, 1907 in Winterset, Iowa. So John Wayne and I are very, very, very very, very, very very, very, very distant cousins.

Less Would be Illegal

There is an ongoing debate in Washington and around the country about the minimum wage. A push is on to raise the minimum wage from $7.25 per hour to $10.10 per hour. The economics of it are not as simple as one would assume. Is it time for a change? Maybe these graphics will help you put the issue into perspective.

The graphic at the top telling girls this will be them if they don't study is somewhat misleading. The fact of the matter is given the current job market even study and hard work in school may not be enough. Please note that deadbeat Ken is sold separately. They appear to be trying to feed the fires of a single unwed mother who has no skills and works a minimum wage job while she scams the system for welfare money. There are a couple of problems with this. McDonalds workers are not this pretty. Second what is it with that smile? Fast food workers are not that happy.

We have all heard the stories from our parents and grandparents about the good old days when they worked for .35 cents per hour. A hamburger, coke and a movie were less than a dollar. Not each but for all three. We would complain then that the $1.75 per hour wage was not enough and listen with eyes rolling as they told us how tough it was back then. Walking a mile to school in the snow with bad shoes, up hill going there and coming home. We could all point out how tough we had it at some point. The minimum wage should allow you to purchase the basic things in life. Food, clothing and a place to live. Cars, cell phones and computers are nice but life can go on without them and cable television. So how long do you have to work a minimum wage to have a place to live?

The thing to keep in mind when looking at this graphic is that we still haven't addressed the other two basics in life which are food and clothing. Maybe Hawaii is not paradise since the number of hours you would have to work per week for a fair market apartment is 175. It is a little tough to do when there are only 168 hours in a week. Clearly, most people making minimum wage don't pay fair market rent. They are being subsidized in some manner by tax dollars. Before everyone gets all high an mighty about they aren't getting any break on their housing keep this in mind. If you pay mortgage interest and file with itemized deductions you are being subsidized though lower taxes. The other issue is that large corporations are making huge profits while the taxpayers subsidize the food and housing of their employees.

The problem with the above graphic is that it appears to over state the amount of food money would buy in 1998 and under state the amount it would buy in 2013. There should not however be any disagreement that $20.00 does not go as far at the grocery store now as it did 15 years ago.

Doesn't that seem wrong? Who are these people working for minimum wage?

It isn't who we think, is it? Maybe it's time for the minimum wage to change. Just look at the facts and decide where you want to stand in the debate.

Surround Yourself

The best thing about retirement isn't having all the free time you want. It isn't getting to do whatever you want to do any day and any time of day. The best thing is being able to choose the people you associate with on a regular basis. When you work you don't get to choose your coworkers. The boss or personnel makes that choice for you. Working in a prison you get to work with whoever happens to have broken the law and shows up at the prison that employs you. It was fortunate that I had some great coworkers. People I enjoyed working with every day. I had a boss that was not much fun but that often comes with being employed. It wasn't that she was evil she just ended up being consumed by her abuse of alcohol. My father died in 1999. She and I worked together at the time. She was my boss and my office was literally five steps from hers. She would see me multiple times each day. Sometime in mid to late 2001 she decided to make an attempt at idle conversation. Try to seem more personable and interested in her subordinates. So she asks: "How is your father doing?" I simply replied: "He's still dead." It didn't anger or disappoint me because I understood it was just another sign of her descent into alcoholism. It really wasn't too much longer, perhaps a year or two and it killed her. The point being there was no choice but to associate with her. I was well into my career. Too old to change jobs and too dependent on the money it provided to leave.

What brought this all to mind is something that happened yesterday. We were working helping our son's mother in law paint the house she just bought. We also had a club meeting that afternoon. We had decided that helping our friend with her house was more important than the meeting. One of the members called and asked if the meeting was still on due to the weather. She was told it was and decided to go and enjoy the company of the other members. When she walked in the door to the meeting one of the leaders muttered: "What is she doing here?" The group meets once a month for a couple of hours. There are ofter 20+ members in attendance. Carol and I usually don't even have time to have a personal conversation with each person who attends. So, why say something rude and stupid like that? I cannot figure it out. What I have determined is that I am no longer interested in being a part of that group. Not because one person said something stupid but because everyone who heard it did nothing.

Mark Twain once said: "Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the great make you feel that you, too, can become great." So the choice becomes who do you choose to spend you time with? It would seem a better idea to surround myself with positive, cheerful, supportive and loving individuals. I don't have any obligations which require me to do anything else. I don't have to tolerate rude and alcoholic bosses or groups where people can't get along for a couple of hours a month. It just goes to reenforce my belief that I belong out here in BFE. Not joining the herd. Not being a part of a group. Life will go on for those groups without me just as this club will exist even in my absence.

Dogs

Lily, Teddi, Candy, Spud, Bubba, Midnight, Daisy, Sugar, Buffy, Ticky, Ham Bone, Brutus, Paladin and in truth the list could go on much longer. They are some of the dogs that have blessed our family with their companionship. The story of our family could not be told without dogs. It seems no matter how far back you go with pictures they are with us.

The handsome fella in the front is Jack. The folks with him are George and Byrd Oyler my great grandparents. The picture was taken at University Park in St. Louis in 1933. It is interesting that going through photos I have so many with people I cannot name and ones with dogs that I can.

This is my grandmother Byrdis Oyler Sutor with Molasses. This picture was taken at the home farm near Wataga in the mid 1930's.

This is Byrdis again in 1965 on vacation with her dog Surry. Byrdis kept a dog family history from the late 1940's to about 1960. Those records indicate that Surry was born in November 1950 from the union of Mo and Tippy. She was my grandmother's constant companion when I was a youngster. You had to treat Surry with respect or she would take a chunk out of you. Whatever Surry did to you was your fault. At least that is how grandma saw it.

This 1936 picture shows Coley riding a horse with Byrdis looking on. Keep in mind this was back in the day when much of the work on the farm still required the use of horse power. Coley was not just posing for the camera he apparently often enjoyed riding along with the horses. I guess what is missing here is a window for him to stick his head out of as they speed along.

This fine fellow is Fergus. The picture was taken in 1964. Fergus and I both arrived on the farm in March 1954 so when this was taken we were both about 10 years old. He was a wonderful dog and my grandfather John's constant companion.

 This picture was taken in the 1980's and is Grandpa with Phillip.

 This is another picture from 1964 and of the four dogs I can only name Fergus. The others are lost to me in the mists of time.

This I will admit is one of my favorite pictures. In the foreground is Phillip. The fine pooch on the table is Wilbur. This picture was taken in the fall during harvest. The device next to the dog is a moisture tester for grain. We would dry grain on the farm and during the day Grandpa, supervised by Wilbur and Phillip, would run the corn dryer. Wilbur, you can tell by looking, was a bit of a trouble maker. He would from time to time run away to spend a little time with the ladies in Galesburg. This would result in Grandpa going to town to bail him out of "jail". As befitting a criminal he would be hooked to a chain that was screwed into a chunk of railroad tie. Wilbur would drag the tie around for a few days as a reminder that going to town for a piece of ass had its price. He would stick around for a while and then hormones and the call of the wild would send him back to town. The last time it happened Grandpa sat Wilbur down and told him he would not bail him out again. Don't ask me why or how it worked but Wilbur never ran off again.

I close this post with these three. Spud on the left, Midnight in front of Bubba. They were the smartest dogs we ever had. If you ever have the chance to share your life with a Boarder Collie do so. They are absolutely wonderful companions. Just be prepared. Sometimes they know what you want but they refuse to obey. Usually because they have looked a step or two ahead of you and have seen something coming you didn't. They would lay in the yard like this for hours paying no attention to the weather on guard to protect their herd, us.

Form + Function= Magic

My dear friend Mike is a car guy. He has a passion for them that I don't. When we talk about cars, at least for me, it is not the mechanical part that interests me. It is the form. How does the car look. Is it a thing of beauty. It doesn't matter to me if it is a piece of shit to drive because I don't want to own it, I just want to gawk at it. Stare at it with that blank look men give a beautiful woman. We don't want to possess them, make them ours, we are happily married. We are simply admiring the form. It is like this car.

It is beautiful to look at. Could I ever afford one? No. Would I stop and stare if I saw one? Hell yes. Today, as I was trolling the internet I saw one of those things that made me stop and stare. Form and function came together to create something beautiful and to solve a problem. The problem? How does the bicycle cross the road? This is the solution.

This is the world's first suspended bicycle path roundabout. It is located in the Netherlands between Eindhoven, Veldhoven and Meerhoven and is called the Hovenring. The 230 foot tall center pylon uses 24 steel cables to suspend a 236 foot diameter bridge deck.

 This is the street level view. The lighting just enhances the beauty in my opinion.

 The view from a distance at dusk.

Expanded view.

I will admit that this structure would be of little use to me. I would never get anywhere. I would ride up onto the roundabout and then just ride around and around and around and around. Then I would ride away and stare at it a while and repeat.

It is nice to see that mankind still has the ability to take a simple issue like crossing the street with a bicycle and make the solution a thing of beauty.

Why We SUCK

I have from time to time stated that I think the political speech in the United States needs to be carried on by adults acting like adults. It is dismaying when a sitting Congressman is asked what I felt was a reasonable question which he refused to answer. I didn't have a problem with that, just walk away. He, unfortunately, chose to come back and threaten to throw the reporter off the balcony and/or break him in half. What are we trying to teach the public here or any kids that are watching?

I'm going to keep this post brief. While I think Sean Hannity is a douche the above picture was posted on Facebook. I think it does nothing to get the two sides talking, seeking common ground and working together to solve our country's serious problems. Why can't we just talk any more and behave in a civilized manner? We don't need to agree but we need to be respectful. Maybe when that happens we will be more willing to listen and find areas where we can compromise and make some progress.