Thursday, November 23, 2017

A Thanks Giving Message



Thanksgiving Message

Where does it come from......

Kennedy was dead, I saw it again and again on the TV in the college dormitory lounge.  The endless card games continued on, I did not sit in.

I did not come for a mandatory Bible History course, thought it kind of strange at a State University, neither did I sign up for Calculus 101 when I enrolled, but it was required in my major, in the second trimester I was trying to get these two obstacles out of the way.
I had aced Bio 101, an honorable 3.0 from an English teacher who really desired to be a chef, survived a chemistry professor who kept talking about the "mullterials", found out it really was MATERIALS by week three and, never could forget Miss Sweet,  Anthropology 101 who I thought wore the ugliest sheer stockings ever, no not stockings, living with the natives of somewhere she had given up shaving her legs, use your own imagination. Four courses instead of five like most colleges where I had full scholarships.  Each professor had added at least four books since we only had such a lite load.
Ah! but the other two schools were home on Long Island, and I wanted to escape, cross the bridge, feel some freedom.

You could call that a mistake, I was lonely, much seemed pointless, the Vietnam War raged on and I had a high number in the draft, they would never get to me, no college deferral even necessary.  In suicidal fog, the jungle seemed like a greater escape, and possibly an end to it all.

So I drove my Chevy Corvair Ramp-Side Pickup Truck (look it up on google) directly to the Army Recruiting Office.
sales effort needed by the spiffy Master Sargent, and his trusty Private aide de camp.
I signed on the dotted line and got a ticket to the Syracuse Base where fodder was being loaded into the War Machine.
It was to be a three-day adventure all expenses paid bye Dear Uncle, "We NEED YOU!" 
They used comfortable commercial cruise busses for the trip and we filled all the seats, seems I was not the only lonely person on the planet.  Sitting next to me was a plaid shirt, blue jeans and really worn boots, with a smile that would not quit, not lonely I guessed, and we began one of those conversations.
I don't think it even occurred to either of us to exchange names. If we did there is no memory of it other than the boots at the youngest age possible, I was a big three years his elder, marched away from a farm somewhere over several hills, leaving his Mom and Dad, young sister and pet dog.
"What yer goin to do in the Army?", I said there was not a plan even though of, and he puffed up his considerable chest, stretched, and flexed his arms, and announced: "My High School recruiter told me and my mom that I would be a heavy equipment operator and would be a great help on the farm with that exceptional skill.

The bus pulled up at a low-end hotel where we would have a two-night stay while we were tested and poked and prodded in every imaginable way.  No worries, all meals included, and a nearby USO for excitement.

I lost track of Worn Boots.
Walked to the USO after a dinner you can imagine,
 a block from the hotel, and descended the stairs to the dull painted room that smelled of cigarettes, but not booze. No conversations, no music, no dancing girls, no free shelled peanuts, just chairs, and tables, and a coffee maker, paper cups, and a box that must have held cookies for the bus that came yesterday.

Sit for a battery of tests, something I was always good at, especially the multiple choice, and how does this look when folded from flat into a solid shape, along with math through algebra, (no calculus), I always knew to be useless, now confirmed my feeling since the Army did not think it worth a page or two out of dozens of sheets of questions.
I guess some did not pass the tests since the group standing in line for physicals was considerably shorter than the line up going into the testing room.
We were allowed to keep our modesty undershorts on, carry all other clothing, seems everyone wore them in the 60's.  The army must have had an excess of Doctors since there was one for every part of your anatomy except your mind, I guess the psychiatrist was busy with the written tests from the day before. I seemed to be a shoe-in for transport to the humid land of Vietnam. We edged along the line of Doc's, in a kind of crab walk, except to spin around to get our lowest orifice invaded.  At last, I smiled at the final examiners.
"Lift up your feet", he barked, and one at a time he looked.
"You're out kid, you'll get a medical excuse. Got a case of fungus on both feet, and you would rot up to the knees in a couple of weeks if we sent you along with all your friends."
 On the bus back to college Boots sat next to me again, with the biggest smile on his face, even wider than on our trip up.
"So it looks like you are going to be that heavy equipment operator by how happy your look?" and he replied, "No, even better, I'm going to be a cook."

At least the Army made it look like a great choice, and did not tell him he failed math, science, mechanical aptitude, and IQ parts of the written exams.  Who would think they had feelings, for the kid.

He was happy as an un-caught clam at spawning season.

Me, I was still lonely.

All this happened over a Thanksgiving weekend, the first time I missed the family turkey and trimmings. and an afternoon snooze.

A fungus had probably just saved my life, and I hope that becoming a cook behind the lines saved the life of Really Worn Boots.
Easy on the Turkey it is an Amazing Life full of Surprises.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Since My Brother Gun Post Thousands Have Died at the Hands of Gunmen.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Brother Gun

Out of a family where as kids we were not allowed to even have a BB gun or a pen knife, my brother became the hunter. No problem there, I don't have a gun but I understand the need for hunters in the maintenance of our forests, and for many people a supplement of great protein.

My only experience with hunting was with my brother in law, and his friends in Nicaragua, when we went out to hunt birds for the nights dinner. They were small birds and did not provide a great feast.
Tasty though.

My brother loves his guns and tries to convert me to his mind set. Recently he must have subscribed to a NRA house organ for me. I actually read the fear filled articles, with there defense of the gun as a necessity of life.  It is amazing that they call gun ownership "the first right". I do not know what happened to " Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."

In the Liberty magazine that my brother is sending to me I read the following.
"All of the mass shootings in America except one have been done in gun free zones."
True nonsense. They obviously forget all the in home shootings where a husband wife or other concerned citizen wipes out his whole family and then kills himself while trying to kill the police on the site.

They  also forget that all the mass shootings in the United States have been done with a gun or a number of guns sometimes including automatic weapons that have no use except to kill people in great numbers as quickly as possible. They are not legal for hunting in any state that I am aware of. If I am wrong on this point I am sure my brother will offer a correction. It seems crazy to have to say "all mass shootings have been done with a gun." This is so obvious and horrible that the NRA refuses to see the truth.

I am amazed that our citizens cannot look at the statistics around the world in developed countries and say to  themselves that something is seriously wrong at home. Perhaps we ought to stop killing our citizens in numbers greater than we did in the second world war.

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Eulogy for a Friend

Just how close can  you be to a friend?

When your friend is a small and not a very powerful one what do think of her presence?

In your troubled times that friend has been there not leaving your side for weeks at a time, and paces the floor and moans when you are not in her presence.

Every greeting is, "So glad to see you, where have you been all this time?", even if you have only gone to the grocery store and back.

I cannot ever remember a correction of my actions or a cross word, when I act out of character.

We wake together, and often feel the need for a nap at the same time.

We met by chance at work of all places. An appointment in the lake area brought us together.  Only one quick glance back and forth gave us the need to be together.

It is just shy of 16 years and the connection has been one that goes beyond the normal senses.

Morgan fades a little each day. Staring off into the distance, I wish I could communicate in words, and hear what she sees that is not visible to me with my limited vision.

At my age I have said good buy to too many friends, but perhaps Morgan released from pain can join them over the Rainbow Bridge. 

So Long my good friend.

Foot Note: We could not let Morgan go. She is still with us. She has some problems but seems to have her own schedule. Keeping us busy with a little more care. Stubborn about what she wants to eat. We will see how it goes for the time being.

2. Time finally caught up with her number of lives. We had to send Morgan over the Rainbow Bridge on Monday 10/19/2015. She gave it a try for the last couple of weeks but what ever tumor or trouble inside finally took her down and we could not see her suffer any more.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Summer is gone and the Silly Season is winding down.

 

  This was to avoid a political blog. That was the reason for starting. Unfortunately recent events make it impossible.

 Seeing so many Republicans wanting to be President should give us a reason to think that the Republic is in good shape, and there are a good number of candidates who want to guide us to further heights of greatness and wonder. If only that were true. A panoply of regressive and worn ideas are presented again in two debates and weird advertisements.

Watching the clown car of last Presidential election year turn into a total circus train with a ring master on every car. As the train hurtles toward disaster crossing a weakened bridge over the mouth of a volcano. Each Ring Master thinks he is in control of the engine, but in each car is only a percent or two of the circus people. The people in the cars are deluded, having their brains shrunk by too much exposure to Fox radiation. The applause is strong as the Circus Ring Masters call out one proposal after another. Each proposal is a bridge between the other, the poor, intelligence, science, women, children, education, peace, and any other positive direction you could take.  

Unfortunately with all the choice it is sad to look from podium to podium and say to your self please God help The United States of America and keep each of these people away from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

 9/21/2015

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Cool Spring

Not a running brook from a natural spring, just cool weather into May I expect. The rain has been regular and gentle compared with last year torrents. We are still not out of the storm season, just beginning. Ohio, Indians, Oklahoma, and Kansas have had some tornadoes
and the south seems to get it worse. Arkansas, Alabama, Louisiana, and Georgia. Weather patterns seem to be still shifting. Never know what to expect.




 At least my large friends have some turf to turn over with their hoofs and munch on.



 The earth in all her spring colors.

 

 



Friday, December 26, 2014

Surrender Never.

I just deleted all of the information I had accumulated on the perfidy of George W. Bush. That he is free to paint his toes, dogs, and scenery after the murder of thousands has galled me. If his successor will not strike out against his outrages and crimes, my voice seems to just be shouting into a void, where there is not even an echo. History will be the judge, but it seems that history is just a series of fables we use to gloss over our open wounds. The country has fallen in to a dysfunctional malaise, that seems to benefit those with money that now equals speech. Money has always had its way in politics, but now the open flood gates are sweeping away anything resembling a democratic system. We are now truly in the hands of the .07% and they don't seem to like anything but their own security. How does this fit in with Merry Christmas. Well the NY Times had and editorial that asks for the investigation of the torturers above, and even the German Human Rights watch want a piece of Bush and Cheney.  Cheney has canceled a trip to Switzerland just because he might be arrested. That is closing in on them

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Winter hibernation

Back in the pool today. The cold has had me underground and unwilling to dunk into even the heated pool at the community center. Going to take the plunge today.

Friday, January 10, 2014

Picking Up the Pencils Again.

Dry spells some times exist outside the arid lands. Cloud bursts can come out of a winter sky. I reach for the tin of colored pencils and work on projects left by the side of the road forward while trekking off the berm and into the forest. Back on the road what will appear on the page?

Saturday, March 30, 2013

What breed?

 
The question asked most among dog owners and the generally curious is: "What breed is that?" We have had Portuguese water dogs for about 25 years now, and we did not even know what the breed was when we adopted what was advertised as a "lab mix" in a small Dogs for Free ad, in the Baltimore Sun.
 So by accident we joined owners of a rare breed. Twenty five years ago there were less than 3,000 in the world. In the middle of the Portuguese Civil War in the 1970's their population dropped to a low of 27.  Today in America, Portugal, Australia, and Brazil they are a thriving breed no longer on the brink of extinction. If you watch Crofts show in England or any of the American major shows you will see them competing in the working dog group.
 
My story today is really not about rare pure bread dogs. My blog today started with a comment from our veterinarian on our last visit with two adopted mix breed pups.
We were having a general conversation about the treatment of animals and got on to the subject of horses at some point. His face dropped into a sad frown.
  
Fudge our Portuguese Water Dog Sire being pursued by our two latest mix breed adopted pups.

He told us that the market for horses had hit hard times and people who owned them were not giving them the care they required.  If the horse was a $200 buy it had very little chance of good care, but if the horse was a $2,000 buy or better it would probably get care.

The animals were being stratified by their economic status. Both horses could be ridden the same distance, would establish the same connection with a caring owner, yet because of their apparent dollar value they would have much different lives when it came to medical care.

We have had the same veterinarian for fourteen years now and we have the responsibility for 10 dogs.  There care and feeding rivals our mortgage payment. There has been changes in the membership of our pack over the years. New Portuguese Water Dogs and new Found Dogs have made up the mix of our ten.


 
Sebastian found us this past July. We think he is part Bernese Mountain Dog since he loves to lie and roll in the snow..
He needed an operation for some damage that had been done to his hip in a fight or accident before we added him to our group,
 
Dr. B. Paid us a compliment during the visit we just had with our two new mix-breed pups.
He observed over the years we had worked with him that we gave the same attention and care to all of our pack, pure bread or mix breed.  I had never given a moments thought before to treating a dog we had just spent a small fortune (to us) for, any different than Sebastian a mix breed who arrived in our neighbors yard, all bones and covered in burrs, lost and hungry.
 
When I think about his comment, it made me reflect about the 5 going on 6 year conflict on Health Care in the United States.  If you are pure bread with a nice thick wallet for a coat, the best of care is available to you. If you are a skinny stray who had had the misfortune of becoming lost in our economic survival of the fittest jungle, chance are you will have a short miserable life, and medical care will be a luxury you just will not be able to take advantage of.
 
We treat Americans our own citizens just like the horse owners have done. We care for the rich and the poor have a second class place at the medical dining room.
 
So as you read this, think---are you one of the well off with unlimited access to the best care or are you just able to access care on an emergency basis.  Will the next medical event in your life be with out more than the normal amount of worry or will it wipe out all you have worked for in your lifetime? 
 
Both situations are the American Way!
 
Pure Bred or Mix-Breed
 
Door to the Left or Door to the Right
Best of Care or Left to Chance
 
 
 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

What is bound will break free.

We often do not know what binds us....



The moon cut loose of its moorings





Is the monster real?




Come a little closer now and see that I am really
there.



With thrashing arms it wills it self toward freedom.




Fabric shreds and I am free.













Tuesday, March 12, 2013

No Structure those Abstract Nuts- Its in the Details

My halting start into blogdom has had me working on projects long neglected. The room I wanted for a gallery and studio got taken over by other uses. Well I have captured some of the space back again.  The art collection has lingered in hiding and has expanded over the years; my work and the collection of mine and my wife's interests. So here is a venture into abstract structure.


 
Perhaps a meaningless mass of colors
 
 
A little closer and a world begins to spin and move forward.
 


Closer still and the world escapes the canvas edge.
 
 
 


Just stand back for a while.
 

 
Now is there some demon within trying to break out?
 
 
What sins have bound, what bands bind, what pain?
 
 
 
Is there any thought of healing, forgiveness, hope?


 
Or just one more wound, after wound?
 
 
"Now that's Structure"
Is it abstract enough?
Not by me. Billy was the son and brother of a family close to me.
This was an exercise he completed on his way to being an architect.
Quite a bit younger than me, he is gone several years now, but his buildings
are standing in Europe and Asia. He was always on the move.



Is it just a bad exposure?
 


Could they be in this painting?
 
 


Dressed for the ball but where is the carriage?
(three above from the same acrylic collage)
 
 
 
This corner is for another day.
 
The structure is just the sum of minute details
 
Good Night
 
 

















 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Thursday, March 7, 2013

From 17 to 67


Mature





Emerging out of my paintings that are all abstract in some form is myself. A side of me that is always there, spent years in the background just above the gesso on oils, and between the lines on drawings, and a ghost breaking out of the layer of acrylics when I painted in a frenzy of activity.





I guess this is no different than the experience of a thousand or a hundred thousand artists before me.
Each in his own way using light, color, depth, shadow, and stroke to understand and represent the world or a part of the world within and outside.




I wondered when I was younger why an artist could paint one scene after another in the same style, one seeming just a hand done carbon copy of the other. Could it be just a commercial enterprise as some claimed or was there something missing in each painting that forced the artist to come again and again to the same scene as a punishment for not letting his inner self out and on to the canvas.




Perhaps it does take a life time to realize that what you are doing is nothing more than self discovery of different facets of yourself. As one artist paints the same scene in different light conditions, times of the day, facing the weather at its best and worst, and one facet is cut and polished at a time to let the light into himself.



So often we sit shadowed in thought wondering what is next and forgetting to be right here now.  Loving every minute that we have to be ourselves, unique, creative, together with friends, and family, yet in our own world created by the next couple of thoughts, or thoughts long forgotten that left an active impression.





We are the only animal that can change the light that surrounds us at will. What an amazing gift we have given ourselves. We can emerge from darkness with the strike of a match, turn of a knob, flip of a switch, or by just pulling aside a curtain. How often do we chose to change from light to dark, and dark to light? From the moment we open one eye in the morning, to lighting the kitchen to find the coffee maker, pressing the button on the remote, clicking off the led reminder eye of the dishwasher when we empty it of the nights work. Light and dark we change our world every hour of the day.



Saturday, December 15, 2012

Sketchingat1:30AM


I have not figured out how to

move and rotate pictures. You can have a chuckle at this post.

Well now I know the adjustments have to be made before you bring the art work here. I am learning.

Thanks for bearing with me as I learn to navigate this new frontier.