It is Sunday and the Media is in full Posture. They are ambushing kith and kin...even the Govenor got a "Are you SURE that the guns were obtained legally?" "If the Mother bought them for the son, there could be a problem." Yes, and if the reporter can read the mind of that dead woman, she would get her answer. Sorry I just want to slap the ---- out of some reporters. It started with Dan Rathers treatment of VP Bush.
I agree "something needs to change"; is this something legislation can do ? If so, let's explore the idea. Will a 20 million dollar committee help? Let's have 3 of them. This is probably the most complicated society in the world. We still have portions of the country that sees the U.S. Government as an occupying foreign power. No, you say ? Ever been to Guam, Porto Rico, Hawaii...talk to an Inuit or almost any other Native American living on a Reservation. World wide, Believers in Islam often see the U.S. as an extension of the Crusades...The Big Satan. We are at war in the Baltics, Asia Minor, North Africa, and Korea. Not even half of our citizens exercise their right to vote and those won't/can't read the ballott. They only pull or mark one position....Democrat/Republican. They never who/what they voted for/against.
In the words of Hank "I promise not to kill any women or children, can I go deer hunting ? Who will promise to keep the women quiet ?"
Those were the days my friend We thought they'd never end...
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The MASS media report on murder at Sandy Hook
I was up all night listening and watching the news feeding frenzy that the Sandy Hook tragedy has spawned. Morgan on CNN is already calling for new gun laws to stop the killing. The only way to stop the killing is to put the killers away. Unfortunately we have not found a way to reliably confine a felon BEFORE they commit the crime. One way to help holding it down is to STOP glorifying every one that happens. Can anyone convince the media that the coverage is harmful. There are those that attack the movies as bad example for kids. What about the real thing ? They are already getting the excuses ready. The killer was sick, heneeded treatment, it was his mother's fault for not seeking help. Our socity has become so twisted that we cannot tell right from wrong.
Thanks for reading,
Saturday morning,
0518.
Thanks for reading,
Saturday morning,
0518.
Friday, March 30, 2012
A Penny for Your Thoughts ??
I found the base cause of our financial woes. A country that uses the logic used in the production of the penny cannot possibly be financially sound. Our goverbment, yes I mean both parties, squander our hard earned cash in places where there should never have been a question. This is a constitutionally mandated area. There is no need to ask "John and Mary Smith" what coins they want to carry. The Treasury and the Congress need to carry out their mandated functions.
'Nough said ?
The following is from Wikipedia:
"The United States one-cent coin, commonly known as a penny, is a unit of currency equaling one one-hundredth of a United States dollar. The cent's symbol is ¢. Its obverse has featured the profile of
President Abraham Lincoln since 1909, the centennial of his birth. From 1959 (the sesquicentennial of Lincoln's birth) to 2008, the reverse featured the Lincoln Memorial. Four different reverse designs in 2009 honored Lincoln's 200th birthday and a new, permanent reverse - the Union Shield - was introduced in 2010. The coin is 0.75 inches (19.05 mm) in diameter and 0.061 inches (1.55 mm) in thickness.
The U.S. Mint's official name for a penny is "cent"[2] and the U.S. Treasury's official name is "one cent piece".[3] The colloquial term penny derives from the British coin of the same name, the pre-decimal verison of which had a similar value. In American English, pennies is the plural form, other plural forms pence and pee (standard use in British English) are rarely, if ever, used.
As of 2012, it cost the U.S. Mint 2.41 cents to make a cent because of the cost of materials and production.[4] The loss in profitibility due to producing the one cent coin in the United States for the year of 2011 has been officially released. The cost is a loss of $60,200,000. This is an increase from the 2010, the year before, which had a production loss of $27,400,000.[4]"
President Abraham Lincoln since 1909, the centennial of his birth. From 1959 (the sesquicentennial of Lincoln's birth) to 2008, the reverse featured the Lincoln Memorial. Four different reverse designs in 2009 honored Lincoln's 200th birthday and a new, permanent reverse - the Union Shield - was introduced in 2010. The coin is 0.75 inches (19.05 mm) in diameter and 0.061 inches (1.55 mm) in thickness.
The U.S. Mint's official name for a penny is "cent"[2] and the U.S. Treasury's official name is "one cent piece".[3] The colloquial term penny derives from the British coin of the same name, the pre-decimal verison of which had a similar value. In American English, pennies is the plural form, other plural forms pence and pee (standard use in British English) are rarely, if ever, used.
As of 2012, it cost the U.S. Mint 2.41 cents to make a cent because of the cost of materials and production.[4] The loss in profitibility due to producing the one cent coin in the United States for the year of 2011 has been officially released. The cost is a loss of $60,200,000. This is an increase from the 2010, the year before, which had a production loss of $27,400,000.[4]"
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
R.I.P. Sergeant Major of the Army William O. Wooldridge
I lost my cousin Bill recently. He was quite a star in my mother's family. Cousin Bill was her contemporary, not mine. By the time I joined the Air Force, he was a Sergeant Major serving in the Pentagon. I got the notice from Cousin Mary this morning. The Old Guard is passing. I wonder if we will serve their memory as well as they served to make our lives what they are today.
Pvt Williamm O Wooldridge
Sergeant Major of the Army William O Woodldridge & wife Patty in Saigon (1969)
Sergeant Wooldridge at "Wooldridge Day" in Brownwood Texas
At the Sgts Major Academy in El Paso.
William O. Wooldridge, who was the first man chosen as Sergeant Major of the Army and lived in retirement in the El Paso area, died at Beaumont Army Medical Center, a Fort Bliss official said today. Wooldridge was 89.
Sergeant Major of the Army is the Army's highest enlisted rank and a Pentagon-level position.
Sgt. Maj. Raymond F. Chandler III, the current Sergeant Major of the Army, offered his condolences on his Facebook page.
"SMA Wooldridge was a one of a kind Noncommissioned Officer, selected to be the first Sergeant Major of the Army because of his initiative, intelligence, experience and drive to excel," Chandler stated. "His lasting impression lives on in the United States Army Sergeants Major Academy, the centralized NCO promotion system, and our professional NCO Corps . He was an innovator, a true inspiration to soldiers, and the epitome of a professional warrior," he wrote.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Golden Age of Teachers 1954-1964
Do you remember when a teacher was treated as a real professional. Doctor, lawyer, teacher....those were what many parents wanted their offspring to become. Do you remember those wonderful ladies of elementary school days ? There weren't many men in the lower grades. They tended to gravitate towards the upper grades of junior high and high school. Unto this day, I swear I was taught by the most brilliant women that ever walked the earth. I'll be most of my contemporaries agree. They were firm but fair. You always knew the limits. I do not recall how many times; in answer to my question, I heard, "Norm, look that up in the library and you can tell the class this afternoon." The librarian, a Miss Crooms, became a real savior. I thought they were just making me do extra work, but by the tine I hit the fourth grade....nothing stumped me.
I was musing yesterday about those that made me what I am today and just how much I owed to their efforts. Let me share a little with you. My 1st Grade teacher, Mrs Robinson, spent a whole year trying to keep me busy enough to let her teach the class. I was doing 4th Grade work at home and "hated the kiddie stuff." She was unsuccessful in getting my mother's OK to move me to the 3rd or 4th Grades. During 2nd and 3rd Grades, I helped in her yard on weekends. She let me have a Coke and listen to classical music on her porch afterwards. I can close my eyes and smell the new mown grass, feel the tingling of the cold drink while Beetovoven's 5th raged in the background. Ta, Ta, Ta, DA !
In the 3rd Grade, Mrs. Riley, taught me compassion. I was an absolute hellion to those I did not like. Mrs. Riley insisted I face those I mistreated. I will never forget the day I reduced Caroline Peterson to tears during recess. Mrs. Riley saw the whole thing. She kept us both after class. She got Caroline to tell me how she felt about what happened. By the time she blubbered through the story....I was blubbering with her. I still think about that day. I an better for it. Not angelic, you understand, but better.
Well...enough for now. I love your comments...far and few as they are.
I was musing yesterday about those that made me what I am today and just how much I owed to their efforts. Let me share a little with you. My 1st Grade teacher, Mrs Robinson, spent a whole year trying to keep me busy enough to let her teach the class. I was doing 4th Grade work at home and "hated the kiddie stuff." She was unsuccessful in getting my mother's OK to move me to the 3rd or 4th Grades. During 2nd and 3rd Grades, I helped in her yard on weekends. She let me have a Coke and listen to classical music on her porch afterwards. I can close my eyes and smell the new mown grass, feel the tingling of the cold drink while Beetovoven's 5th raged in the background. Ta, Ta, Ta, DA !
In the 3rd Grade, Mrs. Riley, taught me compassion. I was an absolute hellion to those I did not like. Mrs. Riley insisted I face those I mistreated. I will never forget the day I reduced Caroline Peterson to tears during recess. Mrs. Riley saw the whole thing. She kept us both after class. She got Caroline to tell me how she felt about what happened. By the time she blubbered through the story....I was blubbering with her. I still think about that day. I an better for it. Not angelic, you understand, but better.
Well...enough for now. I love your comments...far and few as they are.
Friday, February 24, 2012
On being where I belong....
If you aren't without close family ties, this piece may make little sense. If you are alone, as I am, I think my feelings will be crystal clear. I have spent much of my life in search of my physical place in the world. For 20 years, I sought the right assignment in the Air Force. I planned and plotted assignments almost constantly.
I always felt that I was a fifth wheel. When November came calling and Halloween was done with; all my fellow Sergeants talked of turkeys and visiting in-laws left me speechless. I always back pedaled away from the conversation as quickly as possible. I knew that I would be spending the holidays alone. I tried excepting invitations. It was worse watching others glow than sitting home dreaming. I tried travel. Christmas shopping in London over Thanksgiving is great, but what do you do at Christmas ?
The key,,,,,,it is now plain,,,,,is home. Home as in, "A man's home is his castle." Home as in, "Home is where the heart is." Home as in, "Gee, am I glad to be back home. Home is where I want to be." Homes come in many forms. My good friend, Nell, is surrounded by husband, children, grandchildren, geberations yet to appear. My friend Rick has wife and parents in the same city. While my buddy Cindy has lost her mate and children who have flown the nest.....she lives a few minutes away from her mother and all are in close proximity via wireless. My fav celebrity has a castle full of cats and a celebrity partner to share. It's the partner that makes the house a home. It's the partner that keeps me searching.
I have heard it said that, "there is someone special for everyone". I don't believe it, but I dream it. Several times I thought I had found my match. There was always a fatal flaw or ten. I still remember the fiasco's of my teen years and the heartbreaks of my 20's. By 30 the illusions were mostly gone. I was a hopeless not helpless romantic.
Since I retired I have moved at least once a year and am now contemplating a move to Washington, D.C. Back to the Old Soldier's Home. There, at least, I have companions of a like mind.
I always felt that I was a fifth wheel. When November came calling and Halloween was done with; all my fellow Sergeants talked of turkeys and visiting in-laws left me speechless. I always back pedaled away from the conversation as quickly as possible. I knew that I would be spending the holidays alone. I tried excepting invitations. It was worse watching others glow than sitting home dreaming. I tried travel. Christmas shopping in London over Thanksgiving is great, but what do you do at Christmas ?
The key,,,,,,it is now plain,,,,,is home. Home as in, "A man's home is his castle." Home as in, "Home is where the heart is." Home as in, "Gee, am I glad to be back home. Home is where I want to be." Homes come in many forms. My good friend, Nell, is surrounded by husband, children, grandchildren, geberations yet to appear. My friend Rick has wife and parents in the same city. While my buddy Cindy has lost her mate and children who have flown the nest.....she lives a few minutes away from her mother and all are in close proximity via wireless. My fav celebrity has a castle full of cats and a celebrity partner to share. It's the partner that makes the house a home. It's the partner that keeps me searching.
I have heard it said that, "there is someone special for everyone". I don't believe it, but I dream it. Several times I thought I had found my match. There was always a fatal flaw or ten. I still remember the fiasco's of my teen years and the heartbreaks of my 20's. By 30 the illusions were mostly gone. I was a hopeless not helpless romantic.
Since I retired I have moved at least once a year and am now contemplating a move to Washington, D.C. Back to the Old Soldier's Home. There, at least, I have companions of a like mind.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The last straw!
I was talking to a friend yesterday. The conversation went like this:
She My brother is a real a..h... .
Me Why do you say that ?
She When he takes me and my daughter out to eat; he orders everybody's food.
I almost never like what he orders.
Me He doesn't ask first ?
She Never. All men are like that.
At this point Mt Norm erupted....Vesuvius didn't have a prayer.
I have been helping this friend for 6 years. Men have been helping her all her life. She's 55...no drivers license....only income is Social Security.
I am tired of being put down by women who married young and their choice of mates did not bow quick enough. I am tired of hearing the term "single mother" The only "single mother" I know is Joe down the street who isn't married because he really is an SOB ! Last time I checked; all children had two parents. With a couple of wonderful exceptions, the "single mothers" I have known kept the father at a distance. That includes my own. If a man deserts his children, he deserves what he gets. This is not my gripe. So many men leave marriages because they have no place in them. Low expectations lead to even lower performance. Just the use of the term "single mother" lets the world know that this lady has No Use for a male partner.
I have watched a lot of marriages from the outside. Not many were partnerships. In most happy marriages the organisation was simple. The wife orders. The husband complies. I am very lucky to have a core group of friends that do have partnerships. They are all that keep me from feeling useless. I am certainly tired of hearing that all men are worthless.
Then there is the biggest mythconception of all: Men don't pay child support. In Texas, the women who owe child support outnumber the men. It's Grandma who is carrying the burden.
She My brother is a real a..h... .
Me Why do you say that ?
She When he takes me and my daughter out to eat; he orders everybody's food.
I almost never like what he orders.
Me He doesn't ask first ?
She Never. All men are like that.
At this point Mt Norm erupted....Vesuvius didn't have a prayer.
I have been helping this friend for 6 years. Men have been helping her all her life. She's 55...no drivers license....only income is Social Security.
I am tired of being put down by women who married young and their choice of mates did not bow quick enough. I am tired of hearing the term "single mother" The only "single mother" I know is Joe down the street who isn't married because he really is an SOB ! Last time I checked; all children had two parents. With a couple of wonderful exceptions, the "single mothers" I have known kept the father at a distance. That includes my own. If a man deserts his children, he deserves what he gets. This is not my gripe. So many men leave marriages because they have no place in them. Low expectations lead to even lower performance. Just the use of the term "single mother" lets the world know that this lady has No Use for a male partner.
I have watched a lot of marriages from the outside. Not many were partnerships. In most happy marriages the organisation was simple. The wife orders. The husband complies. I am very lucky to have a core group of friends that do have partnerships. They are all that keep me from feeling useless. I am certainly tired of hearing that all men are worthless.
Then there is the biggest mythconception of all: Men don't pay child support. In Texas, the women who owe child support outnumber the men. It's Grandma who is carrying the burden.
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