Someone To Watch Over Me

He sensed adventure...but somehow overlooked danger

Air Force Intelligence Badge

It was the mid-60's
He was attending Air Force Intelligence School
Lowry Air Force Base, Colorado
Sandwiched between Denver and Aurora

Lowry would later be noteworthy (at least in his mind)
For its close proximity to the bars of Colfax Ave
And the famous( ?) "Zanzibar" nightclub
Of Clint Eastwood's 1978 movie,
"Every Which Way But Loose" fame

Note: But Colfax Avenue and the Zanzibar... is another story with a little more detail (click here) Ben and Jack
Another note: the old Zbar location is now a Walgreen's
The "Starbucks" of drugstores... wouldn't you know?!

At Lowry, he was studying two separate but related Intelligence technician skills.

The first; air (current) intelligence was somewhat like gathering tidbits of news from different government spy agencies and passing relevant parts to air crews... keeping them up on the latest. Analysts were also responsible for tasks like building strike charts (maps) for aircrews to use on bombing missions, drawing radar predictions and teaching them fighter aircraft recognition... "This here's a photo of a Russian MIG. You either want to shoot them down, observe them or stay away from them...depending."

The second skill was photo interpretation. This involved using the techniques of photogrammetry to analyze (mostly) aerial photography and identify bombing targets. When finished, he could be assigned to jobs in either skill. Either way, it was all interesting so he was enjoying school - a rare experience for him in his young life.

One day, in class there was an announcement. "We are looking for volunteers for training as Air Intelligence Airman Parachutists." Since he was 21 at the time and feeling the same sense of immortality that infects most folks of that age he quickly volunteered.

First, there was physical conditioning testing at the base gymnasium. He was asked to do rope climbs to the rafters, push-ups, sit-ups and other tests of strength. He handily passed all. Next step was a physical exam and that is where he had trouble. His eyesight was 20/200 correctable to 20/20 and that was "outside the acceptable limits" for parachute training. He wasn't too happy about that, particularly since he played wide receiver in a lot of sandlot tackle football and had majored in billiards in high school... all without glasses (he was pretty content, and successful at playing the blurs).

Anyway that was that.

Shortly thereafter, he learned most of those accepted for training ended up in Viet Nam and South America, participating in and teaching counterinsurgency... at that time a job with an extremely high fatality rate.

Right there and then someone was watching over him. You know who.

(For more detail on Intelligence activities following this adventure click here: Randal C - You've Been Found!)

Janice E, David A, Jim N, Jack S and David Claud

1972
The Forum in Los Angeles, California
There was a concert
Iron Butterfly and Canned Heat

Julieann and I were almost 3 years into this 41+ year marriage

Working and slaving our lives away in nearby Riverside

We didn't go to many concerts (as in none)

But loved the music
My brother was visiting from Seattle
So we decided to go as a special event for all of us

We decided to buy the best seats we could get
That purchase put us in folding chairs on the floor of the Forum
About 15 rows from the stage

The sound engineer
Orchestrated the whole event
From a few rows behind us

It was a great concert made more interesting by the
Smell of marijuana that permeated the building
And by the fact that the engineer had the music dialed in to penetrate everything in its path

The sound seemed to be focussed right in the center of my head
When we walked out my ears were ringing
Almost 40 years later, they still are

I have told this story dozens of times
For folks who are puzzled by my lousy hearing
And wondering why I don't wear my hearing aids
(they don' work very well - as in, at all - for tinnitus)

What I have rarely mentioned it that it was probably cumulative
Air Force buddies David A, Jim N and I had gone to drag races in Amarillo, Texas 
In the early 60's where you could literally lay in the grass 
And take photographs just a few feet from the track
David A and I had also made many short and long hauls in his '58 Chevy
Music turned up as loud as it could go
Singing at the top of our voices 
Through the prairies of northern Texas and New Mexico
Back then folks were pretty clueless about the effects of hazardous noise


This morning, on her Facebook page, pal Janice E happened to mention
She had heard the long version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" on the radio
And loved it.
That is what has prompted this little story
I will send the link to all five pals mentioned here today


Also Jack S... who mentioned in the earlier post that he too 
Had attended the Forum way back when 
And his ears rang for three days after
And he now has one gone with one to go


I can't help but wonder how many ears
Have been destroyed in the Forum?
Let's 'hear' it if you have!!! (bad joke) 

The Bag

The Bag - about to begin its third life.
(Harley tags will adorn it once again.)

In my last Air Force assignment as a Medical Service Corps officer
I used to work a lot of hours
No problem... I loved the job

But there was one who always worked harder
He was always there when I arrived early
And always there when I stayed late
Always there

I approached retirement before he considered it
I was anxious to start a new life
And he at the time was content with his

One day just before I left, in a moment of candor and admiration
I told him he was the "hardest working sonofabitch
I had ever met."
And he was.
And he still is.

A few years later... as a consultant
With business in health care contract initiatives
I had the good fortune
To bring him on as an independent contractor
To assist my clients in pursuit of two extremely difficult
Billion dollar plus contracts (TRICARE)

My clients loved him... for good reason
And hired him for projects far beyond
Our work together

I have now been a consultant for almost 20 years
I have worked with and hired
Several hundred different independent contractors
To assist with consulting work

In that time there is only one who has
Given me a gift as a token of appreciation
For the work we did together

It was the same person...
The hardest working SOB
One of the finest gentlemen
I have ever known

It was uncalled for
And for that reason
All the more appreciated

He did it twice.
The second time it was a beautiful Tumi bag
Something I had never thought to purchase myself

I have used it off and on for years
While traveling hundreds of thousands of miles
I have retired it twice in favor of the newer model wheeled bags
To lighten my load...while on the road

But now, with lighter laptops
And ebooks
My  load is getting light enough

L-R; Bill Grinstaff, Bob Bunker, Yours Truly
Here is a link to a testimonial about Bob:
http://tomcampbellsworld.blogspot.com/2009/09/ashtray.html

I am thinking about bringing the bag
Out of retirement for the third time
That is what prompts this tribute

It is now well-worn with years of character
But otherwise bullet-proof
I love to hang Harley related tags of various kinds on it
So those who see it know
While I may be traveling with a high-end bag
I am still somewhat off center... right where I want to be

Harold W. (Bill) Grinstaff, Colonel
United States Air Force (Retired)
I salute you

You make an old road warrior proud to have worked for you,
with you and to have known you as a close friend.
For over 25 years now.

10/18/2015 update:  Bill passed away a couple of years ago now. I am grateful I was able to share this tribute with him before he passed.  I miss our frequent email exchanges on topics of all kinds and what he called "rocking chair memories" the most.  We travelled to Boston this spring and while there, met Bill's wife Sharon, his son Mark and daughter-in-law Fabienne for dinner. Terrific people all and it seemed as if Bill was there with us, beaming with gentlemanly hospitality.

"Minimally Invasive" - The Sordid Details

She is waiting... for Meeeeeeeeee

One week prior:
It was a bad day in Black Rock
He was feeling low... and scared
It was cold out and rain was drizzling

He had aches and pains where there usually weren't any
He was considering the worst of possible outcomes
Instead of the best
Things like hospital acquired infections and what not...

Not like him to think that way.
It cost him a lot of sleep that night

He was hitting his 65th
A point where it seemed to him
Birthday celebrations became more for the observors
And much less for the 'observee

To add insult to injury
He was about to become patient # (pick one)
Of the more than 200,000 in the US who receive
Hip replacements each year

His work often called him out of state
And, the economy being what it is
He had earlier decided he would postpone the surgery to take work
It didn't happen as he suspected - work that is
And that meant it would happen - surgery that is

He saw his Doc the Friday before
It was his hand-picked surgeon
He had inside info that the Doc was the "best"
In their large community
That was from a fake hip factory sales rep close to his circle of friends

The surgeon practiced the new "minimally invasive" procedure
Using an incision roughly half the size of the older method
Resulting in "faster healing with less pain"
"Oh really?!"

He and the Doc went through the usual information exchange
The Friday before the Monday surgery
And the Doc closed with a convincing, "We'll take good care of you."

That reassurance pulled him him out of the doldrums
And helped him focus on the positive outcomes of the surgery rather than the opposite.

Day one (December 13, 2010): In the hospital Monday morning at 6:15AM
Surgery scheduled for 8:15
He was already checked in and had worn his admitting wristband through the weekend
Yeah, you can pretend it is a band for admission to a rock concert if you want....

A short wait then, into a small room to prep
His two favorite ladies of all time were with him... wife and daughter
The OR nurse visited
"We are going to get you into this gown, get some socks on you,
 Start an IV and a few other things."

The Gasser stoped by and said "hi" and talked a little about the epidural and
Other potions being mixed to reduce his patient to a vegetative state
The OR nurse stopped in and explained a little more
He nodded his head continuously while scanning the area for the exit door
Finding none he resigned
He was wheeled into the OR...

The OR nurse said "Sit up on the edge of the table.
"Hold this pillow and stick your chin into your chest."

The Gasser sneaked up behind him (that's how they are),
found his spot and poked a needle to start the epidural
It was pretty uncomfortable but didn't last long
"Now, lay down on your back here..."
Seconds later it was lights out.

They said he came to thrashing in the recovery room
So they turned up the juice, conked him out again
And brought him back slower

Woke again in regular room with a wedge strapped between his legs
"To keep you from crossing them."
Not much pain
Okay okay - he was pretty ecstatic to still be alive...
"Just relax the rest of the day.
Tomorrow we will get you up and about".

Family was there visiting
Nurses and techs attentive
All was good
Typical hospital night
PA system came on repeatedly announcing various codes

Day two:  More dialed in to the present tense now...
Rehab folks show and he walks... with assistance of aluminum walker
Everyone makes sure his 'jammies' stay closed
He retains his dignity
The walks and such go well

Day three: He is ready to go home!
Doc shows up and agrees
The walker and the patient are outta there!

Days 4-7: A lot better each day
Home health nurses and physical therapists keep showing up at home
And checking to be sure he is doing okay
He likes (nah, loves) the attention

Day 8: He sheds the walker, moves to cane

Day 9-14: He starts, stops, then starts again... quitting the pain medication that is
The cane disappears too
On day fourteen the staples are removed
What a relief... it was beginning to feel like little piranhas nibbling on my _ss!

The love of his life says his limp is almost gone
"Better than it has been in years."
Damn... that's it for the sympathetic remarks he figures.

Day 15 - 21: The pain meds are long gone.
Everyone keeps warning him not to overdo it
But he feels like he is taking it slow
Even though he is way ahead of schedule
Even went back in the gym on day 16

He calls the doc's assistant
"Get me off the blood thinner!"
"Let me start driving again!"
He loses the first request but wins the second
(Providing I don't violate restrictions on movement of leg.)
"I'll take that!!!"

Day 26 (January 7, 2011): First follow up visit to Doc
He is hoping to get license
To begin tormenting the world again
Very little waiting time

Some x-rays
Radiology tech said he "couldn't believe"
He had already returned to the gym last week
His head started swelling

Doc said;  "Two more weeks of limitations on movement
Then he could return to normal
"Me?!  Normal?!  Little does he know..."

So the limitations are:
No splits while jamming on the dance floor
No high hurdles and
No parachute landings
"Okay I can live with that."

Or did he say;
"No crossing your legs,
No bending more than 90 degrees at the hip and
No inward torque on the fake hip?"
Yea that was it...

The miracles of modern medicine
And a damn good doc
He's a Happy Camper.

2/16/2011 Addendum:

It has now been precisely, exactly (about 8 weeks) since my doc took a frickin' sledge hammer and drove a titanium stake into my body.  Rumor was he was going for the heart "Twilight" style but missed and nailed my femur instead. 

I visited him last week and, shortly after he missed me twice (again) with two ill-timed swings of his "just checking reflexes" hammer, we sat and talked.  He opened with, "You can jog if you want although we don't encourage it."  Now, what the hell was that?!  I didn't even bring the subject up but in retrospect it was a nice nonsensical sort of thing for him to say.  He also said other stuff like "Let your stretching exercises come along naturally, don't try to force it."  I took that to mean don't do it at all which fits nicely into my regimen.  

He also liked the fact that I have already resumed golf, riding the HOG and hitting the gym so I scored a lot of points there I figure.  We then lapsed into a conversation about riding bikes (turns out he is a fanatic too) so I needle poked him in the finger and made him a blood brother. 

He closed with, "I don't want to see you for your next checkup for a year."  Musta pissed him off.  Then he said;  "When you show up then, I will be lurking in the shadows somewhere in this clinic and will nail you when you least expect it you Bloodsucker."  I think he has been watching too many movies...

"Vision"

The video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHZ_BkkB1Tk&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

Album Proof:

© 2010 

Verse:

Sing like you mean it

Live like there’s only one way to die

And you know there is a meaning

And there's only one way to ride

Yo this is Ty say hi not why,

Every other brotha get chips on the side

Get so nasty Otis goes wild

Get so noticed that's that life

Give another mother heart attack on site

Any other song I would sing this line

But this one’s different why uplift it

Any other time I'd oblige no fight

Get so lifted forget lines

Bring another hook just for old times

This one here goes down like

Verse:

Don’t waste all your time on go decide where you belong

Always on your mind is your safe life so comfortable

And even when you step your lonely mind to breathe how others do

You would rather not be bothered than discovered by the cold hard truth

Verse:

The end of the line will define your worth

Gotta leave a legacy behind on earth

For the sea for the sky for the trees for the birds

For those here now and long after

Just a play button with no rewind

Don’t get another try just one life

I don’t need to live too long just right

Always got another soundtrack in mind

To leave another mark on the man mankind

Bring another hook just for old times

This one here goes down like

Breakdown:

Sing like you mean it

Live like there’s only one way to die

And you know there is a meaning

And there's only one way to ride

Verse:

Don’t waste all your time on go decide where you belong

Always on your mind is your safe life so comfortable

And even when you step your lonely mind to breathe how others do

You would rather not be bothered than discovered by the cold hard truth

The Christmas Tree From Hell

The "Christmas Tree From Hell" - 2010.

In the early 90's, we were still holding out for real Christmas trees each year. You know, the ones that are freshly cut and smell so good? Plus, I was a little snooty in thinking fake trees were just that...fake. The idea of having one seemed like it would be taking a lot out of the Christmas experience for our family.

But then somewhere around the mid-90s the wonderful world of allergies kicked in with both Julie and I and we lost the fight. We decided it would be a lot more comfortable, sneeze-wise in our house if we had a fake tree.

A measly few hundred dollars later we had her up in all her glory. 800-900 built-in lights, all hand wound with authentic looking fake branches; she was the works in all her artificial glory! I even bought a huge molded plastic storage box to keep her safely contained in our mini-barn during the off season.

Then, over the next few years I was 'fortunate' to discover first hand how fragile the lighting system was. Those 800-900 lights on the Tree From Hell were in a string of eighteen independent plug-in sections, each of which would go dark if two or more of its lights went out. Back then, as now, I was and am pretty clueless about lights. I also found out, no matter how careful I was in handling the tree, dozens of lights would go out each year.

The first year I recall noticing this problem I was lucky(?) to hit the local hardware store and purchase a pen-like device that would test an individual light after it was removed from the string. Each light on our tree was secured by a small clasp that required a fingernail maneuver to open and the tightness of the connection required another fingernail maneuver to get it out.  Easy enough for a couple of lights but after a dozen or so the process made fingertips mighty tender. (yeah i know, a "wimp")

Oftentimes, I would attempt to locate the beginning of a string then remove, check, and if needed, replace each light independently until the string had enough gumption to come back on. It was enough to bring small utterances of the blue kind on occasion. One year (the worst) I had to remove, check and replace several hundred of the lights...a process that took me most of the day and had me searching for new cuss words to loudly spread throughout our home.

Along the way I also found out once you have found and purchased replacement lights the battle is far from over. While those tiny lights all appear the same there are literally dozens of different plug-in bases and the diameter of the base will sometimes vary.   There is also some form of electrical variance (ohms?) that can cause perfectly fitting replacements lights to burn out instantly when they are inserted in your string. This all made working replacement lights very hard to find.

I usually had so many lights burned out I didn't want to buy the individual packs of 5 or so replacements they typically sell. It was and is a lot cheaper to buy an entire string of lights and pop them out individually for replacements.

All of these developments served to have me dreading Christmas as I knew the Tree From Hell would kick my ass again. I also knew the experience would start me on a dark cussing streak that would cause Julieann's blood pressure to rise and generally spoil a day or so of our holiday season.

Then, a few years ago, I found a wonderful device.  A pistol shaped contraption that you hook to a light string to restart it. You pull its trigger a few times and it jump starts the string so you can immediately see which lights are out. This meant I no longer had to remove and check lights individually to find out where the weak ones were.

Most recently, as in last year, I had finally found an effective replacement light at Ace hardware and was so proud of that I bought four boxes of 200 light strings. I figured that would last me at least three years considering how many seemed to burn out each year. When I started replacing them this year though, I found out the bases were just slightly smaller than those on our tree and they would be so loose they would fail to make the connection needed to get the whole string working again.

At that, I was ready to give up. I had been to so many stores.  I had tried and bought so many lights that looked like they might work, replaced so many bulbs and had so many tender fingers I was ready to cash it in. Julie witnessed all that and, much to my surprise seemed to agree. In fact, she said, "We just won't have a tree this year." I was with her on that notion and stashed the entire three piece contraption along our fence for later disposal. Then I hit Google to see what replacement trees might cost. I was figuring (hoping) the technology might have improved and we might get a better model. What I quickly found out was that getting a comparable tree would cost us roughly a thousand dollars. That represented a fair amount of chrome for my Harley so I quickly decided to hit the replacement bulb circuit again.

I found Phillips lights at Target and was encouraged. I brought them home, removed and plugged one into our tree and it instantly burnt out. Deja vu? Yes. No problem though as I am a veteran light-replacer of many years. I hit the road again... nothing different at Ace hardware but two promising possibilities at Orchard hardware including GE and some generic brand. The GE's worked and now we have a bag full of several boxes of replacements.

The Christmas Tree From Hell is working too.  But I know, deep down inside her fake branches she is thinking of ways to torment me next year. Inside that Beauty is a true Beast.  I will be ready though.  I will have two (yes two) diagnostic guns and several boxes of tried and true GE bulbs. Bring it on Tree!

"Greater Love...

"Reflections in the Wall" Artist Unknown

hath no man...
That he would give up his life
For his (country)." ***

Yesterday our nation commemorated its veterans
For the 91st time (give or take)
Since it was originally called "Armistice Day"
At the end of WWI on November 11, 1918

That same month my Father was born
He would go on to serve in the Navy during WWII
He was assigned to a tanker ship, the USS Cimarron
He never saw combat

I would follow with service in the Air Force
For 24 years starting around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis
And ending many years after the War in Viet Nam.
I spent two years in Thailand during the war and never saw combat

Wife Julieann would serve with me as a military spouse
For 18 of those years (that's 11 PCS moves for her in military parlance)
Many would argue that she did see combat
And that was possibly what she contemplated
On various occasions when she was trying to
Get me to do the right thing.

Between the three of us
Over 45 years of service...
Over 16,000 days of service
To our country

And here...is a fact
The sum of all those years
The sum of all those days
Is not even a drop in the bucket

In comparison to one Soldier, Sailor,
Marine or Airman's day in combat
With precious life at risk
Not one drop.
Period.

These are the ones we hold closest to our hearts on Veteran's Day
The combat veterans who survived
And the ones we lost
The ones who demonstrated the greatest love
The ones who gave us all they could possibly give
God bless them, heroes every one.
I also want to once again commend this song...
To them...our heroes... for you to enjoy:

Il Silenzio

***Attributed to the King James version of the Bible, John 15:13

The Line

Chalk line

(Click to enlarge this puppy and check out the lines...)

Power line

First in line

Center line

Chorus line

Clothes line

The fine line

Jump the line

Draw the line

Cross the line

End of the line

Back of the line

Front of the line

Latest in the line

Middle of the line

Mason Dixon line

I Walk The... (you know)

Queue (the highbrow version)

I’m not li’ne (Nah, not to you anyway!)

Beautiful lines

This is about the last one.

Beautiful lines

See the picture?

See what I mean?

Struck by a tree…not in the literal sense

As in having one ripped out by the roots

And smacking me where I deserve

“Take THAT you pitiful reprobate”!

But more so in the figurative sense

As in gawking at our old oak tree

It is a Western or “Cork” oak

It sits in the far back of our yard

It is noticed mainly at times of the year

When its small leaves make a mess out of

Molly’s own Personal Swimming Pool

And when it’s branches grow too close

To the power lines

So the utility company has to

Give it kind of a brutal trim

With little or no thought to esthetics

I happened to be back there

At the right time for beautiful morning shadows

And noticed she has grown somewhat stately

In the twenty plus years we have been here

So I wanted to give her credit for being around for us.

Look At You Jon Stewart!

I stopped making political posts some time ago, when a close friend pleaded with me to quit.  I thought he made a great case as my writing is intended primarily for two things;  to recollect life for the record and to entertain along the way.

At the Rally

In my mind this entry does not signal a return to politics, it celebrates a plea to restore sanity... yesterdays's Rally hosted by Jon Stewart in our Capital Mall.  I loved his speech at the end, so much so that I am posting it verbatim here.  To me, his is the voice of reason at a time when left and right extremists seem to be the ones taking center stage all too often.

I am fortunate to have a fair number of friends and they come from many persuasions; left... right... between.  Some lean pretty far toward either side of the spectrum but they remain my friends nonetheless.  This post is for them.  This post is for you.

Take it away Jon:

"And now I thought we might have a moment, however brief, for some sincerity. If that's okay - I know that there are boundaries for a comedian / pundit / talker guy, and I'm sure that I'll find out tomorrow how I have violated them.

So, uh, what exactly was this? I can't control what people think this was: I can only tell you my intentions.

This was not a rally to ridicule people of faith, or people of activism, or look down our noses at the heartland, or passionate argument, or to suggest that times are not difficult and that we have nothing to fear--they are, and we do.

But we live now in hard times, not end times. And we can have animus, and not be enemies. But unfortunately, one of our main tools in delineating the two broke.

The country's 24-hour, political pundit perpetual panic conflictinator did not cause our problems, but its existence makes solving them that much harder. The press can hold its magnifying glass up to our problems, bringing them into focus, illuminating issues heretofore unseen. Or they can use that magnifying glass to light ants on fire, and then perhaps host a week of shows on the dangerous, unexpected flaming ants epidemic. If we amplify everything, we hear nothing.

There are terrorists, and racists, and Stalinists, and theocrats, but those are titles that must be earned! You must have the resume! Not being able to distinguish between real racists and Tea Party-ers, or real bigots and Juan Williams or Rick Sanchez is an insult--not only to those people, but to the racists themselves, who have put in the exhausting effort it takes to hate. Just as the inability to distinguish terrorists from Muslims makes us less safe, not more.

The press is our immune system. If it overreacts to everything, we actually get sicker--and, perhaps, eczema. And yet... I feel good. Strangely, calmly, good. Because the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us, through a funhouse mirror--and not the good kind that makes you look slim in the waist, and maybe taller, but the kind where you have a giant forehead, and an ass shaped like a month-old pumpkin, and one eyeball.

So why would we work together? Why would you reach across the aisle, to a pumpkin-assed forehead eyeball monster? If the picture of us were true, of course our inability to solve problems would actually be quite sane and reasonable--why would you work with Marxists actively subverting our Constitution, and homophobes who see no one's humanity but their own?

We hear every damned day about how fragile our country is, on the brink of catastrophe, torn by polarizing hate, and how it's a shame that we can't work together to get things done. The truth is, we do! We work together to get things done every damned day! The only place we don't is here (in Washington) or on cable TV!

But Americans don't live here, or on cable TV. Where we live, our values and principles form the foundation that sustains us while we get things done--not the barriers that prevent us from getting things done.

Most Americans don't live their lives solely as Democrats, Republicans, liberals or conservatives. Americans live their lives more as people that are just a little bit late for something they have to do. Often something they do not want to do! But they do it. Impossible things, every day, that are only made possible through the little, reasonable compromises we all make.

(Points to video screen, showing video of cars in traffic.) Look on the screen. This is where we are, this is who we are. These cars. That's a schoolteacher who probably think his taxes are too high, he's going to work. There's another car, a woman with two small kids, can't really think about anything else right now... A lady's in the NRA, loves Oprah. There's another car, an investment banker, gay, also likes Oprah. Another car's a Latino carpenter; another car, a fundamentalist vacuum salesman. Atheist obstetrician. Mormon Jay-Z fan.

But this is us. Every one of the cars that you see is filled with individuals of strong belief, and principles they hold dear--often principles and beliefs in direct opposition to their fellow travelers'. And yet, these millions of cars must somehow find a way to squeeze, one by one, into a mile-long, 30-foot-wide tunnel, carved underneath a mighty river.

And they do it, concession by concession: you go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. 'Oh my God--is that an NRA sticker on your car?' 'Is that an Obama sticker on your car?' It's okay--you go, then I go.

And sure, at some point, there will be a selfish jerk who zips up the shoulder, and cuts in at the last minute. But that individual is rare, and he is scorned, and he is not hired as an analyst!

Because we know, instinctively, as a people, that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light, we have to work together. And the truth is there will always be darkness, and sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn't the promised land.

Sometimes, it's just New Jersey."

"S__t Happens"

Or at least that's what my old pal Forrest Gump says.

Cats left... dogs right ("Poop" sign is at bottom of right window)

While we are on the topic I should recount
My visit to our Vet's office this morning
To pick up Molly's thyroid meds

First, I took in the familiar dual entrances
With a different, say "human" perspective
As in; what if they were intended for people?
Cats to the left and dogs to the right... pretty clear
Well, I used to be a Cool Cat so I woulda' went left

Famous "Poop" sign for those who may be in continent...
you know, like... in North America.

But now I am an Old Dog so the answer is obvious.

Then, I took in the 'Poop' sign
From a similar... person's perspective
Don't know about you but I'm grateful they provide bags
And I certainly would need assistance if I were to attempt to use one.

Brake... Down

Julieann Marie - Pattaya Beach Thailand - 1972

Yup its a Brake Down

Want to wash Bertha, the family auto, before picking up
Julieann from the Airport this afternoon
But there is a chance of rain
Today and for the next couple

Should I slow down, or stop
As is my custom?
My approach has always been
Delay things until the last possible moment

Julie's is to do things immediately 
When they surface

A conundrum here
Please pass the...
Container holding
Moments of decision thanks.

Aw I'll just go
Julie will give me an "A+"
For effort the moment
She realizes I did it

She's that way you know.