Don't Talk to Me Like That

Somewhere along the line I got older. Maybe even old. Well at least that is what Metropolitan Life Insurance Company thinks. I got my yearly statement and because I turned 60 my life insurance rate went up. My monthly premium was no longer covering the cost of my insurance. As a result it was eroding my accumulation fund. Welcome to the world of whole life policies. I reviewed my annual statement and located my local office's telephone number on the paperwork. Local office is somewhat of a misnomer since they have my Illinois address they provided me with a number there. Since I prefer to deal with local offices rather than giant corporate bullshit I tried the Illinois office. I got an answering machine with the usual "you've reached the office of...blah, blah, blah...." I heard enough and hung up. Didn't want to leave a message. I got my paperwork out again and found the customer service 800 number. I took a deep breath and dialed the number. Who answers? A computer generated voice. Here is your list of options. Press one for this. Press two for that? Here is option 3 and 4. None really fit what I wanted to do. I chose one option hoping for the best. Maybe a real person would answer. No such luck. The computer gave me the option to enter my policy number. After I did so it started to tell me what I already knew from the annual statement I was holding. The computer then asked if I was done or wanted to hear more options. I went with more options hoping one of them would be a real person. Once again MetLife thwarted my attempts and only gave me more machine options. I had used option one the last time so I tried option two. More crap I had in front of me. The machine again asked if I was done. "No!" Here are more options. I listened to another 5 options and didn't hear anything I wanted so in total frustration I said: "I want to talk to a real person." The computer replied: "Would you like to talk to a customer service representative?" I responded: "Yes!" A nice lady named Melinda came on the line then and in less than two minutes addressed my issues and emailed me the forms I needed to complete and send back to MetLife. I hate talking to computers. When I call a business I want to talk to a person. Even someone having a bad day who provides inadequate customer service is better than a computer generated voice. It is highly likely that I will NEVER call MetLife again. It wasn't Melinda's fault and I told her how pleased I was to get off the computer voice circuit. The two minute call with Melinda was actually about 8 minutes because of the computer bullshit. It would seem to me it would have been better and more efficient to have Melinda and her coworkers answer the telephone and address real people's concerns with real people.
MetLife- after today DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. I WANT A REAL PERSON.

Quick Side Trip

Sometimes when you are out driving you turn down a road just to see where it goes. It is one of the great things about living in the United States. If you stay on public roads and obey the law, no one cares where you are going. Yesterday we were in Savannah and decided to go for a drive on Skidaway Road. It takes you, of all places, to Skidaway Island. That was not our destination. Carol had heard about some houses on Isle of Hope so we thought maybe there was something worth looking at down that direction. Along the way we saw the entrance to Wormsloe Historic Site. Well, you know me and history so we took a side trip. This is the entrance to Wormsloe.

Wormsloe was the estate established by Noble Jones. It would be reasonable for you to ask who the hell is Noble Jones? He lived from 1700 to 1775 and was one of the founders of Colonial Georgia. Noble Jones obtained a grant for 500 acres on the Isle of Hope in 1736. He constructed a fortified house on the southeast tip of the island overlooking the Skidaway Narrows a section of the Skidaway River about halfway between the Atlantic Ocean and downtown Savannah. The house was one of a series of defensive structures designed to protect Savannah from a potential Spanish invasion. During his lifetime Noble Jones was able to amass a vast real estate holding amounting to 5,500 acres and 5 town lots in Savannah. The Wormsloe estate was donated to the State of Georgia and opened as an historic site in 1979. The descendants of Noble Jones still own the Wormsloe House and its surrounding acreage. After you enter the gate pictured above to arrive at the historic site you drive down this mile and a half road lined on either side with live oak trees.

When you look at this does it somehow seem vaguely familiar? It should. In the movie Forest Gump this is the road Forest and Jenny were walking on when Jenny yelled those famous words. "Run Forest, run!" It is where Forest ran out of his braces as the boys in a pickup truck were chasing him.

So, when the opportunity arises, take a turn down a road. See what you find. Maybe it isn't Noble Jones' estate but there is something worth seeing and remembering down many roads in America.

The Dream Becomes Reality

It started in 1964. It was the year I learned to love the St. Louis Cardinals and hate the New York Yankees. The Cards and Yanks played in the World Series that year. I was in the fourth grade. It seemed every boy in Wataga Grade School was a Yankee fan. Well, all except the one farm boy who wanted to be contrary. It was an epic seven game World Series. The Yankees were headed up by the likes of Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Clete Boyer, Al Downing, Whitey Ford and Joe Pepitone. The Cards fielded players like Ken Boyer, Lou Brock, Curt Flood, Tim McCarver, Mike Shannon and Bob Gibson. Everyone knew Mantle and Maris and every boy in Wataga wanted to grow up and play for the Yankees. They were winners and everyone loves a winner. Well, almost everyone. Bets were made and lunch money traded hands. When the dust cleared and Bob Gibson won game 7 for the Cards, lots of quarters came my way. It was back in the days when a quarter was worth something. You could go down to the local grocery store and get a bottle of pop and a full size candy bar. The bonus being that you would still get change back from your quarter. So a Yankee hater and a Cardinal fan was created that youthful October. Fast forward to yesterday.

Last night Derek Jeter played his last professional baseball game at Yankee Stadium. In an era of free agency Derek Jeter has played his entire professional career for the damn New York Yankees. When you are a boy growing up in the heartland of America the summer brings only thoughts of baseball. When you play with your buddies you want to play baseball. You dream of being the hero. The guy who, when the chips are down, makes the BIG play. The Baltimore Orioles are going to the playoffs. The Yankees have three games left, all on the road, then their equipment is packed away for the season. Derek Jeter will empty his locker for the last time and move away from a life of playing ball. So what has Derek Jeter done in his 20 seasons with the Yankees? 14 times- All-Star, 5 times World Series champion, American League rookie of the year 1996, World Series MVP 2000, 5 times Gold Glove award, 5 time Silver Slugger award, 2 time American League Hank Aaron Award, 2009 Roberto Clemente award, and from 2003 to 2014 captain of the New York Yankees. No one would have said anything negative if Derek Jeter went quietly into retirement last night playing his final game in front of the home crowd. It wasn't Derek Jeter's plan. He came up in the bottom of the 9th inning with the score tied and a Yankee runner on second base. The crowd is cheering and hoping for one more game winner from the Yankee Captain. It is THE DREAM every boy has playing ball on any level. Tied game, at bat, bottom of the last inning. Will your name go down in history or will you hang your head and take a walk of disappointment and shame back to the dugout? So Derek Jeter came to the plate last night living every boy's dream. The first pitch comes his way and he hits a line drive between the first and second basemen. The runner rounds third headed for home and slides in safe ahead of the tag. Once more Derek Jeter is the hero at Yankee Stadium. One last glorious time. He has lived every boy's dream of what his final at bat would be in front of the home crowd. Congratulations on a great career and a special final appearance in front of the fans who clearly love and adore you. If any kid out there wonders if dreams can come true, Derek Jeter showed them the answer last night.

Big Bird

Lily and I went for a walk yesterday and we saw this big fella.

Not the best picture. Still learning with the new camera. I tried to move closer and get a better shot and this was the unfortunate result.

He flew around the end of the tree line where I couldn't get another picture of him. So much for getting a closer shot. Maybe next time.

When I got back to the house I took a picture of our front yard.

It clearly is not an Illinois scene. Weather was unseasonably cool that day with a high of only 80. Late September in the south can be tough to take.

It Should Be a Joke but It Isn't

President Obama got off the helicopter the other day with a cup of coffee in his hand. The other hand was holding his suit jacket closed. He raised the hand with the coffee cup and saluted the two Marines at the bottom of the stairway.

Here is a picture of what happened.

You would think from what is happening on the right wing that this is the most disrespectful thing President Obama has ever done. That it reveals his callous disregard for the men and women who serve in the United States military. Does anyone bother to ask the question why our civilian leader salutes the military men when he gets off the helicopter?

The modern tradition starts with Ronald Reagan. President Reagan served in the Army Air Corps during WWII and he liked to salute. His aides advised him it was not proper protocol for a civilian president to salute military personnel in uniform. President Reagan asked General Robert Barrow, at the time commandant of the Marine Corps if it was appropriate for the president to salute military personnel in uniform. According to sources General Barrow answered: "Sir, you're the goddam president and you can do any goddam thing you want." So a tradition starts.

It might be good to look a bit farther back in American presidential history. If you wanted a president who clearly understood military protocol you should look at President Eisenhower. He never saluted the Marine detail assigned to the White House. He didn't think it was proper. There are some who claimed Ike never saluted troops when he was president. He did on rare occasion for example when dedicating the Marine Corp War Memorial or when presenting medals. No president going back to George Washington routinely saluted military personnel. It was an issue of military protocol and showed we have a civilian head of state not a military leader.

In fairness let's go back to 2001 when George W. Bush gave this salute as he exited his helicopter ride.

Where was the outrage then as George Bush held Barney and gave a half hearted salute?

Don't we have more important issues at the moment? Bombing raids in the Middle East, Ebola in Africa, immigrants on our southern boarder, unemployment, crumbling infrastructure, rampant poverty, unfair taxation to list just a few. It seems that the media wants to keep us focused on little petty shit like salutes while the big problems we are facing go unaddressed and unresolved.

Special Day

This is our granddaughter Audrey. Today is special because 8 years ago we welcomed her into our family. She is a kind, loving young lady with a heart of gold. If her current dreams come true someday she will be a teacher. She loves to learn and read. She tries, from time to time, to teach us things. Unfortunately Papa has flashbacks to his days in school and he is a very bad student. She tries her best to control his behavior but never has too much success. He excuses his conduct by claiming it is preparing her for a future with real students. Her Nana is probably closer to being correct when she says: "Papa is being an ass."

Audrey we hope all your days are filled with happiness and all your dreams come true. Enjoy being 8 years old, it only happens once and it should be lots of fun.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

Russian Beer????

Disappointing news on the beer front as Pabst Brewing has been purchased by the Russian brewer Oasis Beverages. Pabst was sold for an estimated 700 million dollars by C. Dean Metropoulos which purchased the brewer for 250 million dollars in 2010. Not a bad profit for owning a company for about four years. Pabst was founded in 1844 and started winning competitions before the American Civil War. It marked those victories by placing a blue ribbon around every bottle until 1916. The brewer was going though about 1,000,000 feet of blue ribbon each year. In the 1940's Pabst started sponsoring sporting events. That was industry leading at the time. By 1977 when they reached their peak Pabst was selling 18 million barrels of beer per year. In 1985 Paul Kalmanowitz bought Pabst for 63 million dollars and decided to do no advertising. He wanted the beer to speak for itself. Sales slowly came back and in the last 10 years sales have more than doubled. Many of America's popular brands at the time were experiencing declining sales. Last year Pabst sales were 6 million barrels. It isn't just our beloved Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer that is involved. Pabst produces all of the following.
Pabst Blue Ribbon
Jacob Best
Schlitz
Old Milwaukee
Colt 45
St. Ides
Stroh's
Old Style
Lone Star
Olympia
Rainier Beer
Schmidt Beer
National Bohemian

So now we will be drinking Russian beer. Old Glory may fly proudly on the flag pole but the Red, White and Blue label of Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer will have lost a bit of its American heritage.

Carol Doesn't Quilt These

Holly Stewart of Kansas City has an art exhibit at the University of Missouri- Kansas City called "Local Grandmother Quilts Giant Penises". Holly reports she got her interest in the art form from her time working at a sex toy factory. She was looking for a job on Craigslist and saw an ad for a position that was "sex positive". When she looked at the ad it was for a de-molder in a dildo factory. She knew she wanted to be able to tell her grandchildren she had applied for the job. Getting the job, in her view, was even better. If I could perhaps editorialize for a moment. My grandmothers Harriet and Byrdis: THANK YOU! I cannot picture either one of them working that job or creating fabric penises. I am thankful that picture cannot form in my head. Back to Holly. She started a Kickstarter campaign to bring her creations to the gallery. She had a goal of raising $250 but ended up raising $308. Her pledge levels were: Schlittle, Chub, Schlong, Hard On, and Throbber and featured rewards like "a small bag of sequin semen". On to the pictures.

 A penis mandala.

Holly with one of her creations. I don't think this is how you get a compact car.

For Your Consideration

There is an unfortunate truth in the caption. When you are shopping take a moment to see where the product was made and buy something made here if available.

The older I get the more truth I see in this.

It shouldn't cost that much more. The important question to ask is why. I doubt the one done here is $33,000 better.

We need more discussion.

Perhaps diplomacy would have a better chance if we weren't teaching our children to refer to our enemies as goat fuckers. You will, however, pardon my finding it extremely funny.

Theodore

Today's post is about a boy. A young man I never met. Everything I know about him is summed up in seven words and two dates. Those words: Theodore Prendercast, Papa's sweetheart, Our Darling Boy.
February 25, 1902 and May 9, 1909. Theodore lies in eternal rest at Bonaventure Cemetery.

In May this year Carol and I along with our friends Mike and Nancy walked through Bonaventure Cemetery. It is an amazing place. There are some stunning works of art throughout the grounds. None of those touched me in the way this one did. Five words. Just five words. They said everything you needed to know about Theodore and his parents. He was his Papa's sweetheart. You can see Papa going off to work in the morning, perhaps to the docks at the port of Savannah. Maybe to the cotton exchange. Off to the sea to fish. Returning after a day's work to be greeted by his loving son Theodore. Our darling son. The loss wasn't just Papa's. It was a loss to his family. Brothers, sisters, mother, grandparents, we don't know aside from the word "our". I tried to find out. Spent hours on the Ancestry web site. As far as Ancestry goes Theodore Prendercast never existed. No records. Even the extensive records in Find a Grave show nothing. No census records. Theodore was born after the census of 1900 and died before the census of 1910. We don't know how Theodore died. We do know that it was a tragedy. It clearly impacted his family. Papa's sweetheart, their darling boy, barely seven years old was gone. The dreams they had for him. The love they shared. The time they spent together. Somehow cut short. The love, their pain, all conveyed to us in five words. There are more beautiful pieces of art work at Bonaventure. There are longer quotes on tombstones. None spoke to me with the power of those five words. Certainly there were others who lost loved ones. Who placed them for eternal rest at Bonaventure and suffered as greatly at Theodore's family. Somehow, in their pain and grief Theodore's family told us everything we needed to know about him and them. We walk away to our day and our lives knowing over 100 years ago a young boy died. He was loved and he left behind a family devastated by the loss of their "darling boy."

If you wonder about the beauty of Bonaventure Cemetery,

Please take a minute to go to my friend Mike's blog and read his post today which is also about dear Theodore. It is existinginbfe.BlogSpot.com

Something New for Someone Old

Art is like magic. You know it when you see it but not everyone can make it. My dear friend and fellow blogger Mike saw Carol's first painting probably since she was in high school and encouraged her (us) to give it a try. When we were back in Northlandia (Mike's term- fortunately not trade mark protected) we went to the Dick Blick outlet store. Brushes, paint, easel and $100+ later they let us out the door. It had languished forlorn and ignored in the laundry room for a month. Mike would prod on occasion. He would ask when or if we had started. I finally told him it would be this week and I am a man of my word. We painted yesterday afternoon. I have much to learn but why not take on a new challenge. Before I share some photographs I want to relay a couple of things I believe are true about artists. There are those individuals out in the world (my favorite tattoo artist Jim Hawk) who are truly gifted. They live in the same world as us but they see it in a completely different way. There is a texture and a pattern to the world that is invisible to the rest of us. They can see it and somehow move it from perception to paint or ink or sculpture or paper or any other medium of their choice. It is unfortunate that we venerate people who can run fast, jump high or shoot a basketball or play baseball above this exceptional individuals. It is often after they leave this world that we see what a marvelous gift they left behind. A vision of the world we could not see without their assistance. I marvel at their talent. I am and always shall be a hack. It is okay because I understand after yesterday what Mike was trying to tell me. I made some art and it made me happy. It doesn't matter if it makes you happy. I didn't make it for you. I made it for me. So if you take anything away from this go do something today that makes YOU happy.

 Carol took this picture while I was distracted and trying to mix colors.

 

 

The finished product. A view from my prison cell toward the pile of rocks I will break in the hot sun.

 

Carol's painting from yesterday. Sunflowers.

I Have Questions

President Obama told us a few nights ago that the United States would work with coalition partners to attack ISIL. The plan is for the United States to provide air strikes in support of Iraqi, Kurd and Syrian rebel forces while providing those groups with weapons and training.

Is it the right thing to do? It seems all too frequently these days we are willing to use force to impose our will on others. Then we act surprised when they don't appreciate having American values dropped on them 500 pounds at a time. President Obama feels he has the authority to act on his own. It seems like a stupid thing to do. Have an open debate in both houses of Congress. Force a vote before we act especially in Syria. Make members of Congress on both sides vote to authorize use of American forces of any kind. Many on both sides are calling for military action but (and it is a huge but) when this goes wrong they will suddenly claim they were never in favor of the use of military force. They will claim (correctly) that they never voted for the use of force and given the opportunity they would have voted no.

What is our objective? Is it the destruction of ISIL? How long will this take? Do we have an exit strategy? Will more U.S. weapons fall into the hands of the terrorists groups? Is there an imminent threat to the United States at this time? If there isn't why are we doing this? Will bombing create more terrorists than it kills? It would seem before we commit troops, including the use of aircraft to bomb terrorist targets, these questions should be asked and answered. What happens if a U.S. aircraft goes down in ISIL territory? Do we depend on Iraqi or coalition forces to rescue the pilot if he or she survived? Are we willing to put boots on the ground in that case and commit American forces?

Take a minute to think about cost. Not in lives of Americans or those living where we are going to bomb. The cost to the American taxpayer in dollars. Before any expansion of the conflict at this time we are spending 7,5 million dollars a day fighting ISIL. Put another way it is $312,500 per hour. So far the war in Iraq has cost the United States taxpayer in excess of 800 billion dollars. If you are willing to take a look back to 2003 President Bush stated the war would be a "lengthy campaign" and estimated the cost to be about 60 billion dollars. We have spent a huge amount of money in Iraq and Afghanistan that could and should have been invested in our infrastructure, or revitalizing our job market or reducing the burden of student loans. What have we gotten for the investment we made in Iraq? The simple and honest answer is ISIL. Our actions in destroying the Iraqi government have left a power vacuum that groups like ISIL and al-Qaeda are using to fan the flames of centuries old religious and ethnic divisions in the area.

Now for the numbers that really matter. United States casualty figures for Operation Iraqi Freedom as of September 17, 2014 were 4,425 killed, 31,947 wounded. For Operation New Dawn 66 killed and 295 wounded. For Operation Enduring Freedom 2,344 killed and 19,987 wounded. For a moment set aside the economic cost. What have we gotten for these dead and wounded? Has it been worth the cost to the country and the families of those killed and wounded? Will the death of even one more American service person make the situation better?

Those my dear friends are the questions we need to answer before we commit more troops and treasure to the chaos in the Middle East.

Now That's Talent

Carol completed another quilt yesterday. Well complete except for the binding around the outer edge. She once again has amazed me with her abilities. I will never be able to understand or duplicate what she is able to do. There are piles of fabrics in her quilting room downstairs. There are books full of various patterns those fabrics can be cut into and sewed back together to create. Somehow she looks at that vast array of fabric colors and patterns and sees something that is beyond my imagination. I made one quilt. The limit of my imagination was using my old jeans to create a denim quilt. So I was able to use various shades of blue. Denim blue. How creative is that compared to this?

Impressive isn't it. She has a gift for this that I do not have and cannot understand. It is just my dumb luck to be married to someone who is so gifted at what she chooses to do.  This quilt was made for the bed it is on and works with the wall color and the décor of the room.

Today's History Lesson

Tybee Island has always held a position of strategic position at the entrance of the Savannah River from the Atlantic Ocean. If you are going to attack Savannah from the sea you are going to pass by Tybee Island. Today we will spend a little time talking about Fort Screven.

Fort Screven is named for General James Screven, a revolutionary war hero who was killed in battle near Midway Meeting House, Georgia on November 22, 1778. The fort is on the north end of Tybee Island. The plans were drawn up in 1872 and land was acquired in 1875. Then in typical federal government fashion, nothing happened. In 1896 with the threat of war with Spain looming construction began on what was at the time call Fort Tybee. The military first referred to it as Fort Graham but the name was soon changed to Fort Screven. The batteries were not completed in time for the Spanish American War but eventually six were completed on Tybee Island. The only one open to the public at this time is Battery Garland which houses the Tybee Island Museum. Battery Garland was completed in 1899 and mounted four 12 inch guns. The fort was initially for the Coastal Artillery Corps but in 1929 it was taken over by the 8th Infantry. In 1932 Fort Screven was commanded by Lt. Colonel George Catlett Marshall who went on to command the entire U.S. military during World War 2. He was the author of the Marshall Plan which rebuilt war torn Europe and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1953. At the end of World War 2 the fort was declared surplus and sold to the City of Savannah Beach (now the City of Tybee Island) for $200,000. The city in turn auctioned the property off to the public.

This is the Fort Screven officer's quarters.

Fort Screven in the early 1900's.

Troops with one of the Fort Screven battery guns.

This was the main guard house at the entrance to Fort Screven.

This marker stands at the southeast entrance to the fort.

One of several local signs marking entrances to Fort Screven.

This is the post theater. It is in the process of being restored by a local group. In the Spring Carol and I attended a wine festival held to raise funds for the project. Since tourist season is over the group is having a showing of Jaws this Friday. Island humor, you have to love it.

 The building pictured above was the enlisted troops mess hall from 1924 to 1929. It is now available as a vacation rental.

This building is now the Tybee Arts Center. It was the fort's fire station.

 



This building was the fort's bakery. The southern live oak in front is one of the most beautiful on the entire island.

This is the placard on the side of the bakery.

A better picture of the southern live oak in front of the bakery.

Thoughts for a Monday

I took a couple of days off from blog writing to relax and spend some time thinking. It means that today will probably have more than one post. Time will tell I have a few things to accomplish today and Theodore's post still has to be written for Friday.

Spider update. Friday we had some tree trimming done. We had some branches that were rubbing on the roof and Solomon Tree Service came over to fix the problem. Of course some of the work was above the back door and Charlotte (the banana spider of prior posts) had her web destroyed. We were not sure if Charlotte had fallen victim to falling branches or crushed under the worker's boots. Saturday morning saw Charlotte working on a new web up higher. She has relocated to an area just off the screened rear porch and all is well.

The diet continues and as of today I'm five pounds lighter. Don't get too excited about that because it is like losing one fighter jet off an aircraft carrier. The load is lighter but no one can tell. Carol, Lily and I are walking a mile every morning. In the evening after supper Lily and I go out for another walk that is about a mile and a half. Walking on Tybee Island is interesting. First, no hills. Quite a change from where we can walk in Illinois. Second, there are always other folks out walking, or bike riding or (gasp) jogging. Third, the speed limit on most of the side streets is 15 mph. This is due in part to the fact that there are almost no sidewalks so you walk on the edge of narrow streets. What has been surprising to me is even after driving around town to see the sights there are so many things you miss even at 15 mph. I don't take the camera on walks because Lily just cannot cooperate and hold still. I haven't been able to hold her leash and point the camera with any success. Sometime, hopefully today, I will get out and take pictures of the things I have noticed during my walks. Lots of local history here and I will share some again soon.

Finally for this post, it was a good day in sports yesterday. The Bears won and if you can forget the first half of play they looked pretty decent. The nice thing for me with the Bears game was that it was a nationally televised game so I got to see them play. That is the problem with living out of market and being cheap. I won't pay an outrageous fee to watch the games that are only broadcast in the Midwest. It was nice to see the Bears play and even better to see them win. The St. Louis Cardinals are in first place in their division with a three and a half game lead over the Pirates with 12 games to play.

That will conclude this morning's effort at blogging. Stop by again later today and see what else the day has to offer.

Let's Be Fair

Today's story is plucked from the headlines. Well not recent ones but I'm behind on the news. Besides it's a timeless story about American justice. A teenage boy from Everett, Pennsylvania faces up to two years in juvenile prison after posting pictures on Facebook. Child Porn? Theft? Burglary? Drug Use? Assault? No, the pictures show him simulating a sex act with a statue of Jesus. The statue is kneeling in front of "Love in the Name of Christ" religious organization in Everett. The charge is Desecration of a Venerated Object. Pennsylvania law defines desecration as "Defacing, damaging, polluting or otherwise physically mistreating in a way that the actor know will outrage the sensibilities of persons likely to observe or discover the action." Here is one of the pictures posted by the accused.

I can see where many would fail to find the humor in this. Maybe it should fall into that category of boys will be boys. Two years in juvenile prison seems to be a bit much. In order to insure fairness perhaps authorities in Pennsylvania should go after these folks who are desecrating one of our cultural icons. A figure who represents the United States in countries around the world.

Ronald McDonald is being subjected to similar conduct in all of these pictures. Where is the justice for him? Where is the outrage? It certainly doesn't appear on Ronald's face. The smile on his face should in no way influence our decision to go after his abusers. The pictures clearly show that Ronald gets around as they are taken in various locations. He is being abused by multiple people and both sexes. They are portraying Ronald as a man whore. Why are no charges brought?

I don't think Ronald was asking to see this fellas "McNuggets". The look of appreciation on Ronald's face should not lessen the scorn and outrage we feel.

I know some will attempt to tarnish Ronald's image with pictures like this one. Sully his reputation as a performer at children's parties. But who among us hasn't had our weak moments? Being weak doesn't give others permission to violate us personally or sexually. Stand up and demand justice for Ronald.