a song by Paul Simon

Father And Daughter Lyrics

If you leap awake in the middle of a bad dream

And for a fraction of a second you can't remember where you are

Just open your window and follow your memory upstream

To the meadow in the mountain where we counted every falling star

I believe the light that shines on you will shine on you forever

And though I can't guarantee there's nothing scary hiding under your bed

I'm gonna stand guard like a postcard of a golden retriever

And never leave til I leave you with a sweet dream in your head

I'm gonna watch you shine

Gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign

So you'll always know

As long as one and one is two

There will never be a father loved his daughter more than I love you

Trust you intuition

It's just like goin' fishin

You cast your line and hope you get a bite

But you don't need to waste your time

Worry'n bout' the marketplace

Try to help the human race

strugglin to survive it's harshest night

I'm gonna watch you shine

Gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign

So you'll always knowAs long as one and one is two

There will never be a father loved his daughter as much as I love you

I'm gonna watch you shine

Gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign

So you'll always know

As long as one and one is two

There will never be a father loved his daughter as much as I love you

For My Daughter who just turned 34.

Tuesday’s Trials

It's the end of a month already and I think I blew myself out with yesterday's items. The rain is pouring down rather hard, the traffic was dicey this morning, Dennis Weaver died yesterday and I can't find anything relevant to write about yet today. I may get inspired later in the day.

...and finally, the Portland Trail Blazers

Mr. Billionaire, cut the malarkey and sell the team

This was John Canzano's read on Paul Allens request for help from the city to finance the team. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Shooting in Roseburg

As promised, here's the rest of the story.

Suspect in school shooting charged

EDWARD WALSH and DAVID AUSTIN

edwardwalsh@news.oregonian.com

davidaustin@news.oregonian.com

Despite Roseburg, school violence is down

Steven Carter

stevencarter@news.oregonian.com

These were the stories that appeared in the Oregonian plus this Editorial;

Another skinny boy with a grudge and a gun

And here is my letter to them all:

Re: Shooting in Roseburg

You're all missing the point, and asking the wrong questions.
Let's examine the five "Ws".

WHY did he choose a gun as his weapon of choice to settle this dispute? Why not just a fist or a baseball bat?

WHERE did he get access to a gun and where did the idea come from to use the gun? A friend? A relative? Video games? Paint Ball games?

WHEN did he get it into his head to show up at school with a loaded gun? That morning or had he been brooding about the idea for quite some time?

WHO else knew about his tendency towards violence? Or was this the first indication of violent behavior?

WHAT are we, parents, going to do about it? All you could talk about was the heightened security at the schools when the problem is not to put a band-aid on the wound but go to the source of the problem. Violence is tolerated without any checks or balances all around us from the nightly news that hones in on drive-by shootings, to violent video games to Paint Ball. The bottom line is that the security businesses are getting fat as well as the video game makers.

OSU Student's Forestry Research

This has been one hell of a week-end for news and there are three items that really got me frosted on Saturday Morning. I will list them here and give you my responses as the day progresses.

Firstly, OSU researcher defends forest findings was an article that appeared in the Oregonian by michael milstein (michaelmilstein@news.oregonian.com)

I wrote the following letter to Rep. Brian Baird:

U.S. Representative Brian Baird-D-Wash.
O.O. Howard House750 Anderson Street, Suite BVancouver, WA 98661Phone: (360) 695-6292Fax: (360) 695-6197

Dear Rep Baird,

Subject: OSU Student's Forestry Research

Who are you to question a researcher’s research? Are you among those that believe that Government funded research ought to conclude what it is the Government wants to hear?

The questions you are asking of the researcher are those that ought to be asked by the publisher of the journal to whom the paper was submitted. I doubt very much that the researcher had an axe to grind although it is obvious that you do have an interest in what the research didn’t support.

I commend the young man for even coming to answer your slanted questions. Could you stand up to that sort of questioning?

Peace,


My second item were the articles written about the shooting in Roseburg.

And thirdly was the nerve of Paul Allen to ask for the city's help in paying for the Blazers.

Another School Shooting in Oregon

Police identify suspect in Roseburg school shooting.


We had another school shooting here in Oregon yesterday. I wish I could find the letter I wrote last year to a Church Youth Pastor that thought it was character building to take his kids to a Paint Ball activity. I have a real problem with a game that is based on aiming a gun at another human being and “killing” them by hitting them with a paint-ball. In my closing comment to the aforementioned Pastor I remarked that I hoped one of his charges didn’t go to school with a loaded gun and shoot someone. I would be curious to know if this 14 year old from Roseburg ever played Paint Ball.

Have you met Sarah Vowell?

I haven't either BUT I have put her books on my "Wish List". Here are a couple of samples of her writing from the NY Times;

A Pat on the Back


Our Faith-Based Train Rides

Czech Republic ends Slovakia's Olympic run

As I had feared, badly played hockey leads to losing games. Neither North American Team is in the Medal Round of the Olympics, which has two teams from Scandanavia and two teams from Eastern Europe. Yesterday’s Czech vs Slovakia game was the best one I’d seen all week.

The OHSU Tram Budget Fiasco

I have the solution. After watching the Olympics for a week and a half I got the idea of doing away with the proposed Gondolas for the OHSU Tram and just providing four people chairs. Canopies could be provided for rainy days but the chairs have got to be a whole lot cheaper than the Gondolas.

Check out this link, The Onion, Americas finest news source. The White House knew about the Cheney Threat.

Joe Pack

Sad Day!!! Joe Pack didn't make the finals in free-style aerials. Nothing left to do but give you a little Kipling.

"Angutivaun Taina"

Our gloves are stiff with the frozen blood,
Our furs with the drifted snow,
As we come in with the seal--the seal!
In from the edge of the floe.

Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!
And the yelping dog-teams go;
And the long whips crack, and the men come back,
Back from the edge of the floe!

We tracked our seal to his secret place,
We heard him scratch below,
We made our mark, and we watched beside,
Out on the edge of the floe.

We raised our lance when he rose to breathe,
We drove it downward--so!
And we played him thus, and we killed him thus,
Out on the edge of the floe.

Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood,
Our eyes with the drifting snow;
But we come back to our wives again,
Back from the edge of the floe!

Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!
And the loaded dog-teams go;
And the wives ran hear their men come back,
Back from the edge of the floe!

Rudyard Kipling

Monday’s Moanings

The Olympics dominated the weekend without a great deal of satisfaction. The USA Hockey team lost twice and the Swedes beat the Canadians and the whole tournament is the NHL sliced and diced and re-invented but not very good hockey. In the games I saw there were just great goal tending but not really good hockey. Maybe the next round will be better. It’s not like it was before the NHL took over.

I sat through the figure skating because my wife likes that BUT my dislike was just reinforced by the constant talking of the experts during the performances. Two words for you people, SHUT UP! I hate to sit watching a movie with someone that has seen it already and they say, “…watch this”, “…here it comes…”. Who cares that he was supposed to do a triple and only did a double? “SHUT UP”. Explain before, Analyze after, Shut-up During.

How diverse is the Olympics getting when they pick-on the only “African-American” for not being a “Team-player” in a sport loaded with individual attitudes. The Olympics lost the “Spirit of the Olympics” when the Media started reporting the medal count for each country.

Retirement???

It's a cold windy morning here at the PDX Airport and I was reminded about a letter I wrote back in 2004 to my Alma Mater with reference to "What are you doing now that you're retired?"

Friday, January 30, 2004


Retirement? What does that mean? A few years ago I heard a song about the fact that life ought to be run backwards. We should be born old and go to school as we get younger and then go to work until we are young enough to retire and at that point we can enjoy not having to work.

I guess I just must have figured that out long before the song. After leaving WPI in June of 1957 I headed West to get into the rocket business and then headed overseas for three years to install a weapons system and then got out of the weapons business and got into the rocket space business and then came east again. 14 years after graduation I finally settled down and got married BUT up till then I did anything I wanted to do, that I could afford, and went anywhere I wanted to go. Retirement. I raced cars, traveled throughout Europe, raised horses, trained horses and competed in horse shows, and chased women, while I was still able to run. Retirement!

And, you would have thought that after “settling down” that my life would have acquired some sort of regular pattern. Wrong! After four years of marriage and two kids I went west again to cowboy on a large cattle ranch in Oregon. That one year was enough for us to get the Pacific Northwest Bug and so one more child and a few years later we sold the farm in Connecticut and moved to Oregon, (right after Mt. St Helens blew her top) so that I could go to graduate school towards a Veterinary Degree. It is easier to get struck by lightening then to get into Vet School especially for a 44-year-old male with a degree in a physical science. However, my interest in the biological sciences lead me to a degree in Environmental Engineering from Oregon State University which eventually lead to a teaching position in New Hampshire.

Getting back to that song, boy was Graduate School at 44 a lot different than WPI at 19. When I left WPI I never looked back in fear that I would see someone from the school saying, “Wait, we made a mistake, you didn’t deserve the degree.” All of a sudden I was making grades I had never seen before. A? B? Unreal! I had a wife and three kids and a house and I had somehow acquired study habits that lead to good grades. The song was right; youth is wasted on the young.

Teaching! Boy did I find my niche. I was teaching drafting and associated ME type courses at a Voc-Tech in Manchester NH during the day and a Statics & Strength of Materials course at three other colleges in the evenings. It’s really hard to make a living teaching but the rewards are great. Unfortunately, I had to leave the area after three years for personal reasons and went back to Oregon and the engineering world. While I was in NH I did visit WPI often and even looked up some of my classmates so that I could bring my students for plant visits in Worcester.

Needless to say, I am still working. I’m an Application Engineer for York International in the Custom Air Handler division working on the design of HVAC equipment. It’s not Rocket Science. After a 20-year marriage and three children I am now with wife #2 and between the two of us we have five children and nine grand children. Just to keep our lives interesting we are also the legal guardians for our five-year-old granddaughter. Since I’ve worked for this company through three ownerships and long enough to warrant three weeks vacation I have already made plans to request time off to go to Worcester in 2007.

Back in 1994 I fulfilled a lifelong dream and bought my first Corvette. We now have two, our pride and joy being a 1995 Pace Car. After the 1953 Chevrolet, the 1957 Austen-Healey, the Mark V Jaguar, the 1959 Porsche, the 1938 SS100 Jaguar, the DB2-4 Aston and various and sundry “family” cars, I finally got “America’s Car”.

In order to stay within the modern era I am E-mailing this missile. I promise, the check is in the mail. See you all in 2007.

Peace,

Michael ‘57

Oh by the way, three!

Since I couldn't get a link to the Oregonian, David Sarasohn was kind enough to send me the article to share with you:

The vice president's office: Scooter and the shooter

David Sarasohn

And so, after all these years in the dark, we now know where to go to find out what's going on in the Bush administration:

The Corpus Christi Caller-Times.

Can't wait to see what they've got on the wiretapping lists.

The Caller-Times, of course, broke the story on Vice PresidentCheney's blasting a hunting buddy under the impression that he was aquail, or maybe a Democrat. The news became public only 18 hours later,when the owner of the hunting farm called the Corpus Christi paper to casually mention it - "You know, the darnedest thing happened out here today" - and ever since, the administration has been expressing astonishment that anyone would think that wasn't the standard way to release the news of a vice presidential shooting.

Word of Aaron Burr shooting Alexander Hamilton got out faster, even though in 1804, the Internet was down.

The first explanation was that everyone around Cheney was looking after the Harry Whittington, the wounded hunter, although nobody has ever had an injury that would benefit from the attention of a press spokesman. By Monday, White House press secretary Scott McClellan was insisting stoutly, "the vice president's office was working to make sure information got out."

It was not, apparently, working very hard. Not only was the press not notified for 18 hours, but it seems there was a delay before the president himself was told the vice president had shot a major contributor.

Bush political adviser Karl Rove, however, was told immediately, and spoke with the owner of the farm before she thought the episode might be worth mentioning to the Caller-Times.

In the Bush administration, nobody even gets shot without clearing it with Karl Rove.

Three days after the vice president showed he could spin around and hit a lawyer at 30 yards, Cheney had made no public appearance andtaken no questions. After Whittington's wounds led to a mild heart attack, Cheney's office released a statement that "The vice president said that he stood ready to assist," carrying the VP-ER image of Cheney handing the surgeon a scalpel.

By then, the White House was in full change-the-subject mode, with McClellan insisting earnestly, "We're moving on to the priorities of the American people," including "talking about how to make healthcare more affordable and accessible," even for people with medicalproblems other than getting shot by the vice president.

Which, of course, is a way of avoiding the question of how this should have been handled.

"If (Cheney's) press secretary had any sense about it at all, she would have gotten the story together and put it out," commentedMarlin Fitzwater, press secretary for Ronald Reagan and the first President Bush. ".ค.ค. It would have been the right thing to do, recognizing his responsibility to the country as a nationally elected official, to tell the country what happened."
But that's not the way the vice president sees things, inforesight or gun sight. On public information, Cheney's feeling is that if there's something we want you to know, we'll leak it.

That's the message from last week's earlier Cheney story, on the legal defense of the vice president's former chief of staff, I Lewis "Scooter" Libby, indicted in an investigation of leaks of classifiedinformation on CIA agent Valerie Plame to discredit her husband.

Last week revealed a letter from special prosecutor PatrickFitzgerald saying, "It is our understanding that Mr. Libby testifiedthat he was authorized to disclose (classified) information .ค.ค. to thepress by his superiors," Other sources reported that one of thesuperiors involved was Cheney. The two situations sum up the administration's approach to news management: information that should be public will be kept quiet if it's not politically useful, and classified information may become public if there's a political reason.

And sometime, Harry Whittington and Valerie Plame could get together to discuss being targeted by Dick Cheney. Maybe the story will break in the Corpus Christi Caller-Times.

David Sarasohn, associate editor, can be reached at 503-221-8523
davidsarasohn@news.oregonian.com.

Thursday, just plain olde Thursday

It's all of 26 degrees F outside and there is a prospect of even colder temperature tomorrow. There is so much going on from "The Blame Game" to "Scooter and the shooter" that I am too upset to write and there just isn't enough time to write about all that is on my mind, so, I'll just share a Jay Leno with you.

When the Portland Police heard that Nancy Kwan had dropped out of the Olympics because of an injury, they arrested Tanya Harding.

Wednesday’s Woes

This past week-end the Vice President shot a man... I can't compete with what has been said or written so here are a couple of links:

The Daily Show-Monday & Tuesday


The Oregonian Sports Section

David Sarasohn's column today in the Oregonian that isn't on the web yet. I may get it later today.

Also check out "Carl's Letters" on my list of Blogs.

...and the rest of the story!

St. Valentine's Day Massacre
A True Crime Story of Guns and Gangsters
(From the MysteryNet.com)
One February evening in North Chicago, seven well-dressed men were found riddled with bullets inside the S.M.C Cartage Co. garage. They had been lined up against a wall, with their backs to their executioners and shot to death. With the exception of Dr. Reinhardt H. Schwimmer these men were mobsters working under the leadership of gangster and bootlegger, "Bugs" Moran. Within a few seconds, while staring at a bare brick wall, these seven men had become a part of Valentine's Day history: the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.
During the height of prohibition and the never-ending competition between gangster rivals Al "Scarface" Capone and George "Bugs" Moran, bloody warfare was nothing new to the authorities of Chicago. However, investigators on the scene found the Valentine's Day Massacre to be somewhat puzzling. The victims were mobsters, with an endless supply of weapons and well known capability for brutality. Why would they turn their backs and face the wall for anyone without putting up a fight? That was one of many questions to be answered.
Another question came about after an eyewitness gave her account of what happened on that night in 1929. She lived directly across the street and had a perfect view of the garage. She claimed to have seen two uniformed policemen exit the garage while escorting two plain clothed men who held their hands up in the air, as if they were under arrest. Of course, this comforted the shaken woman, thinking that the loud gun fire that she had just heard had been resolved and the parties responsible were being taken into custody. However, the Chicago police had no record of any such activity at 2122 Clark Street until they arrived on the scene to find the horrifying blood bath.
When it comes to suspects, a murder mystery can run the gamut of possibilities. In the case of The Valentine's Day Massacre, the person with the most motive was not difficult to come by. Although he claimed to be in Florida at the time of the murders, Al Capone was, without hesitation, the one and only suspect in this infamous crime. Thanks to prohibition, Capone had become the crime czar of Chicago, running gambling, prostitution and bootlegging rackets while continuously expanding his territories by getting rid of rival gangs. Capones fortune was estimated at $60,000,000. That kind of money gave Al Capone one of the oldest and most common motives in murder mystery history. He had to take down "Bugs" Moran at any cost. But as one of the leading gangsters in Chicago, Moran was not an easy person to get rid of. So in order to get rid of Moran, Capone chose to start at the bottom and get rid of Moran's outfit, leaving him defenseless.
When the bodies were discovered splattered on the floor of the garage, it seemed at first glance, that not one single person could have survived the force of the attack. However, this proved to be untrue, when one investigator on the scene found Frank Gusenberg lying amongst the bloody corpses, breathing heavily and choking on his own blood. Immediately, the unconscious victim was taken to the hospital where investigators waited with anticipation for their only possible lead to wake up and finger the men who were responsible. Their greatest fear was that he would die before they had the opportunity to question him, but eventually he did wake. When he was asked for the identity of the killer, he simply stated "I'm not gonna talk," before he laid his head back and died. Without Frank Gusenberg's testimony and with only a few eye witnesses outside the garage, the investigators had to return to the scene of the crime and try to piece the murder together with what information they had.
After a re-enactment of the crime, authorities concluded that the two men dressed as policemen entered the garage and acted as if they were police on a routine investigation. The Moran outfit automatically assumed that they were policemen on a routine sting. It was obvious that they didnt suspect anything questionable with the two uniformed killers or they certainly would have never been killed without a fight. But as it was, the mobsters seemed to have cooperated with the costumed officers and consequently let the fake policemen disarm them and force them up against the wall. As soon as their backs were turned, the two men in plain clothes entered with guns and shot them down.
Therefore, the eye-witnesses were somewhat accurate when they claimed to have seen two policemen arresting two men. What they had actually seen was four brutal murderers making their cleverly planned get away. If a neighbor or neighbors looked out after such rapid and explosive gunfire, what better way to calm their nerves, by letting them think that everything was under control. And indeed it was under control. The mysterious killers drove away into the night, long before anyone thought to call the police, because the neighbors saw from their windows that the police were already there.
As any mystery lover knows, a murder mystery would not be complete without a clear and well defined conclusion, but in the case of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, it has every element of the mystery, but the ending. Al Capone was never arrested for the crimes; the mysterious gun men were never identified and Capone never graced a reader or interested member of the public with an over dramatic confession. Instead, he was blandly indicted for tax evasion some years later and spent seven years in prison only to be released to retire in Florida, where he died from Syphilis in 1947.
In many respects, the Valentine's Day Massacre follows the perfect mystery blueprint up to the end. Although Capone never went into complete detail on the events of the massacre, perhaps he did allude to his future plans for that bloody Valentine's Day in 1929. A few months prior to the murders, Al Capone mentioned to a fellow "associate" his plan to take down Moran. Capone was told by the "associate" that he would have to kill a lot of people in order to get to "Bugs" Moran. It is rumored that Capone replied by simply saying: "I'll send flowers."

Tuesday, the day of Valentine

According to the History Channel;

The History of Valentine's Day

Every February, across the country, candy, flowers, and gifts are exchanged between loved ones, all in the name of St. Valentine. But who is this mysterious saint and why do we celebrate this holiday? The history of Valentine's Day -- and its patron saint -- is shrouded in mystery. But we do know that February has long been a month of romance. St. Valentine's Day, as we know it today, contains vestiges of both Christian and ancient Roman tradition. So, who was Saint Valentine and how did he become associated with this ancient rite? Today, the Catholic Church recognizes at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus, all of whom were martyred.
One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men -- his crop of potential soldiers. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine's actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death. Other stories suggest that Valentine may have been killed for attempting to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons where they were often beaten and tortured.
According to one legend, Valentine actually sent the first 'valentine' greeting himself. While in prison, it is believed that Valentine fell in love with a young girl -- who may have been his jailor's daughter -- who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter, which he signed 'From your Valentine,' an expression that is still in use today. Although the truth behind the Valentine legends is murky, the stories certainly emphasize his appeal as a sympathetic, heroic, and, most importantly, romantic figure. It's no surprise that by the Middle Ages, Valentine was one of the most popular saints in England and France.

Oh by the way, two...

I was also at the 7th birthday party Saturday for my Grandson, check out the details at Andiamo.

I also changed my reply settings to allow just anyone to reply, not just Bloggers.

Monday’s Moirés

Nothing special comes to mind today except that since the Olympics started I'm totally consumed by anything that does not require judging. Women's Hockey is on and the Men's Hockey starts soon and Curling starts today, WOW!!!

Oh by the way...

...I have this 1984 Corvette for sale!!!

Friday’s Friday

The Whores of Academia

Have you been following the events surrounding the report on how forests recover after a forest fire in Oregon?

About-face restores OSU study money
Research - The BLM reverses after lawmakers raise the issue of censorship over findings on logging after fires
Thursday, February 09, 2006
MICHAEL MILSTEIN

I guess I better begin by admitting that I do have an axe to grind because I wanted to teach and I wanted to do it at the college level. I thought that there was a need for good teachers and that I had those qualifications, which included a good sense of humor and an out-going personality. What I ran into, however, was what I called “Academic Arrogance” at the time but I have since learned that it is more like prostitution since money is involved.

Here is the cycle that exists in the college teaching profession;
A PhD is required in order to apply for a teaching position. This is not a PhD in teaching but in some discipline through which the University can acquire research funding.
The graduates from Engineering schools are in such high demand that the salaries offered for just a BS degree are more than one can earn as a teacher after an additional three or four years, so the only ones that seem to go on to graduate school are foreign students that get to stay in the USA on student visas.
These PhDs then have to carry some sort of class load in addition to their research and they, therefore, usually have freshman undergraduate classes with Teaching Assistants that are also foreign graduate students and the net result is that the lowly freshmen are exposed to hard to comprehend Professors that would rather be working on their research.
Whereas, I, a person more interested in teaching has to find employment at the two-year college level with just a Master’s Degree.

The article about the forestry grad student just shows how far the professors are willing to go for their research money because they don’t want to “bite the hand that feeds” them. When the government, the Bushmen, ask the PhDs to write a conclusion that supports their political agenda it goes completely un-noticed. But this grad student had the nerve to conclude otherwise and all hell broke loose with the Professors trying to suppress the publication of the research and then finally, Big Brother said, “We will cut your funding…”. That’s what I call prostituting your profession.

Thursday's Second Thought

Here's a link to an article I found interesting. Scammers do lie!

The Real Lambo

Photos taken at the 2004 Exotic Car Show at Sunriver Oregon. Sue & Letha are standing next to a Ferrari F-360 Spyder and the Lambo was once owned by Jerry Rice.

Thursday’s Thirst

from Andy & Elaine:

NO PLACE BUT TEXAS

Only a Texan could think of this .... from the County where drunk driving is considered a sport, comes this true story.

Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar in Bandera, Texas. After last call the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so intoxicated that he could barely walk. The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes, with the officer quietly observing. After what seemed an eternity and trying his keys on five different vehicles, the man managed to find his car which he fell into. -- -- He sat there for a few minutes as a number of other patrons left the bar and drove off.

Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off (it was a fine, dry summer night) -- -- flicked the blinkers on, then off a couple of times, honked the horn and then switched on the lights. -- He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and then remained still for a few more minutes as some more of the other patron vehicles left. At last, the parking lot empty, he pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive slowly down the road.

The police officer, having patiently waited all this time, now started up the patrol car, put on the flashing lights, and promptly pulled the man over and carried out a breathalyzer test. To his amazement the breathalyzer indicated no evidence of the man having consumed any alcohol at all! Dumbfounded, the officer said, "I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the police station. This breathalyzer equipment must bebroken."

"I doubt it," said the truly proud Texan. "Tonight I'm the designated decoy."

Wednesday’s Woes

It just seems like a good day to vent.

I don’t watch any TV News but I do read the Newspaper, The Oregonian. In today’s paper there was a story about a family whose ten children were taken away from them because the authorities found Meth buried in their back-yard and the house was full of cockroaches and dirt. This segued to memories of Letha and how we, as senior citizens are raising a seven year old. Letha passed her latest swim class and is now in the highest possible level and she is not yet 7-1/2.
I am having a really hard time coming to grips with the Bush-men and their persistence on thinking that “we the people” can’t handle the truth.
The government has put the citizenry in a glass box while they hide behind a veil of secrecy they call “national security”. It’s against the law to show pictures of all the caskets coming back from Iraq.
The Seattle coach made mention of the poor officiating in the Super Bowl and will probably get fined without any attempt on the part of the NFL to improve the system by hiring full time officials.

Tuesday’s Trials

After hearing the latest reasoning behind the illegal wire tapping of US citizen's I'm left speechless so I'll just share another Dylan with you.

MAGGIE'S FARM by BOB DYLAN

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

No, I aint gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I wake up in the morning

Fold my hands and pray for rain I got a head full of ideas

That are drivin' me insane

It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more

No, I aint gonna work for Maggie's brother no more

Well, he hands you a nickel

He hands you a dime

He asks you with a grin

If you're havin' a good time

Then he fines you every time you slam the door

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more

No, I aint gonna work for Maggie's pa no more

Well, he puts his cigar

Out in your face just for kicks

His bedroom window

It is made out of bricks

The National Guard stands around his door

Ah, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

Well, when she talks to all the servants

About man and God and law

Everybody says

She's the brains behind pa

She's sixty-eight, but she says she's twenty-four

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

I aint gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I try my best To be just like I am

But everybody wants you

To be just like them

They say sing while you slave and I just get bored

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.

Monday's Morning Blues

After the week-end of Lance & Sheryl sad news and the Seahawks bad news, all I could think of was:

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll, 1832-1898
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mame raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son,The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious bandersnatch.
'He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought.
Then rested he by the tum-tum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!One! two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snickersnack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjious day! Calooh! Calay!
'He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Friday Too

Did you happen to hear what took place when the House republicans got together to elect a new Majority Leader? Tom Delay resigned his post as Majority Leader because of money laundering allegations so the Republican House Members were determined to project a new image of honesty and to leave behind any taint of corruption. On the first secret ballot more ballots were turned in than there were members in attendance.

Friday's Freeday

The following pictures of a Corvette with “Lambo” doors is by far the most ridiculous after market modification ever promoted to people that have too much money to waste. The name comes from the attempt to simulate the doors of a Lamborghini which comes with these doors as standard. Since no one would know that you spent all this money on modifying your perfectly good Corvette with these doors you have to park with the doors open. While driving or with the car parked with the doors closed, who would know?

Thursday The Ground Hog Day

Groundhog Day

The legend of Groundhog Day is based on an old Scottish couplet: "If Candlemas Day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year."
Every February 2, people gather at Gobbler's Knob, a wooded knoll just outside of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.
Residents contend that the groundhog has never been wrong.
The ceremony in Punxsutawney was held in secret until 1966, and only Phil's prediction was revealed to the public. Since then, Phil's fearless forecast has been a national media event.
The groundhog comes out of his electrically heated burrow, looks for his shadow and utters his prediction to a Groundhog Club representative in "groundhogese." The representative then translates the prediction for the general public.
If Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, it means six more weeks of winter. If he does not see his shadow, it means spring is just around the corner.
Approximately 90% of the time, Phil sees his shadow.
Phil started making predictions in 1887 and has become an American institution.

Wednesday Wonth of Feb

The following are the lyrics from a Bob Dylan song that keeps coming back to me. At one point the lyrics leave out a word that you will mouth when you hear this song.

Brownsville Girl by BOB DYLAN

Well there was this movie I seen one time
About a man riding across the desert and starred Gregory Peck
He was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself
The town's people wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.


Well the Marshall now he beat that kid to a bloody pulp
As the dying gunfighter lay in the sun and gasped for his last breath
Turn him loose let him go let him say he outdrew me fair and square
I want him to feel what it's like to every moment face his death.

Well I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in
And you know it blows right through me like a ball and chain
You know I can't believe we've lived so long and are still so far apart
The memory of you keeps calling after me like a rolling train.

I can still see the day that you came to me on the pinked desert
In your busted down Ford and your platform heels
I could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet
Ah, but you were right it was perfect as I got in behind the wheel.

Well we drove that car all night 'til we got into San Anton'
And we slept near the Alamo your skin was so tender and soft
Way down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back
I would have gone on after you but I didn't feel like letting my head get blow off.

Well we're driving this car and the sun is coming up over the Rockies
Now I know she ain't you but she's here and she's got that dark rhythm in her soul
But I'm too over the edge and I ain't in the mood anymore to remember the times when I was your only man
And she don't want to remind me. She knows this car would go out of control.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world.
Brownsville girl you're my honey love.Well we crossed the panthandle and then we headed towards Amarillo
We pulled up where Henry Porter used to live. He owned a wrecking lot outside of town about a mile
Ruby was in the backyard hanging clothes she had her red hair tied back. She saw us come rolling up in a trail of dust
She said "Henry ain't here but you can come on in he'll be back in a little while".

Then she told us how times were tough and about how she was thinking of bumming a ride back to where she started
But she changed the subject every time money came up
She said "Welcome to the land of the living dead". You could tell she was so broken-hearted
She said "Even the swap meets around here are pretty corrupt".

"How far are you all going ?" Ruby asked us with a sigh
"We're going all the way until the wheels fall off and burn
Until the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies"
Ruby just smiled and said. "Ah you know some babies never learn".

Something about that movie though well I just can't get it out of my head
But I can't remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play
All I remember about it was Gregory Peck and the way people moved
And a lot of them seemed to be looking my way.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world.
Brownsville girl you're my honey love.

Well they were looking for somebody with a pompadour
I was crossing the street when shots rang out
I didn't know whether to duck or to run so I ran
We got him cornered in the churchyard ? I heard somebody shout.

Well you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune. Underneath it it said:
"A man with no alibi"
You went out on a limb to testify for me you said I was with you
Then when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears
It was the best acting I saw anybody do.

Now I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trepass but sometimes you just find yourself over the line
Oh if there's an original thought out there I could use it right now
You now I feel pretty good but that ain't saying much I could feel a whole lot better
If you were just here by my side to show me how.
Well I'm standing in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck
Yeh but you know it's not the one I had in mind
He's got a new one out now I don't even know what it's about
But I'll se him in anything so I'll stand in line.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world
Brownsville girl you're my honey love.

You know it's funny how things never turn out the way you had them planned
The only things we knew for sure about Henry Porter is that his name wasn't Henry Porter
And you know there was something about you baby that I liked that was always too good for this world
Just like you always said there was something about me you liked that I left behind in the French Quarter.

Strange how people who suffer together have stronger connections than people who are most content
I don't have any regrets they can talk about me plenty when I'm gone
You always said people don't do what they believe in they just do what's most convenient then they repent
And I always said. "Hang on to me baby and let's hope that the roof stays on".

There was a movie I seen one time I think I sat through it twice
I don't remember who I was or where I was bound
All I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck he wore a gun and he was shot in the back Seems like a long time ago long before the stars were torn down.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world
Brownsville girl you're my honey love.