Such perfect words for our imperfect society today…
Monthly Archives: April 2013
A Smoldering Butt
Just thought that was a catchy title…albeit a bit misleading like our media. Just a tad misleading…’cuz the butt’s the other end.
I guess the news guys are finally rubbing off on me after all.
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But as I watched my kids and their friends play in the front, I felt like playing around with my new, fancy-schmancy Canon point and shoot – specifically hand held close-ups of the business end of a nice cigar.
It was amazing that an inexpensive camera such as this could take such equally amazing (yuk to some!) close-ups:
I did switch to my standard Canon DSLR to snap these fun snapshots of my kids. Little Brooke likes the distortion that erupts with this Canon 10-22mm lens…although a certain pro photographer buddy of mine will likely BBQ me over a slow but hot flame for using it.
The Hard Part About Being American
Some sincere feelings posted by a good American…
It’s been a rough week for many Americans. The bombing of the Boston Marathon, the explosion in West, Texas, the natural disasters of weather destructions.
America will deal with these things. We always do.
Last night they caught, alive, the second suspect in the bombing of the Boston Marathon.
Many wanted him dead.
Many hoped to catch him alive.
The persons who chose to set a bomb off at this public event played jury and judge and sentenced to death:
And then:
And sentenced to a life time of suffering and mourning hundreds of others, a city, a state, a country. And a world full of people who don’t understand acts of violence on innocent people.
The persons who took these actions immediately stripped all rights from all individuals who were affected. Stripped the rights and inflicted punishment.
For what crime?
To…
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Widdle Wabbits
A precious little girl walks into a PetSmart store.
She asks with the sweetest little lisp between two missing teeth, “Excuthe me, mithter. Where do you keep the widdle wabbits?”
As the shopkeeper’s heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he’s on her level and asks, “Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy, bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?”
She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice:
“I don’t think my python weally gives a thit.”
Boston: I Pray For You.
Bravo…
Before the assumptions take over the facts…
I hope we all take time to ask our God, our Higher Power, our Deity, our God by another name, forgive me for not knowing them all and I don’t want to leave anyone out so I say “our” God, whatever term is yours. Our Light. If your belief is not Higher Power based but compassion based, let us all pull our beliefs together: to please help us through this.
I hope the assumptions are withheld so the news can be reported factually.
If they don’t know, don’t report.
I hope that we keep our focus that once again, human beings have set a trap for fellow human beings. With the intent to kill. Harm. Maim.
But why are we surprised.
As human beings we have been hurting one another every single day.
Forever.
Will we be the ones who self destruct.
Or…
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A Family of Patriots
Our real heroes need to be honored here in private sector posts…as our media fails us tremendously.
This morning while I listened to eulogies describing former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher as “A great Briton” and a patriot, my thoughts turned to my classmate Dorothy Mahaffy Steel, a great American and patriot. Like Thatcher, Steel knows what it like to be a woman in a traditionally male arena. While many of us women in the Class of 1980 focused, at least some of the time, on breaking boundaries for females, Dorothy (Dee) completely focused on serving her God and country — and varsity gymnastics.
After graduation, in addition to her own Air Force obligations and remaining active in gymnastics, Dee married a like-minded USAFA graduate and together they raised a family of patriots. On April 3, Dee made a sacrifice that she readily understood and accepted as part of her family’s moral code. Her son died while landing his F-16 in Afghanistan.
The loss of Captain…
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gpcox – When Making a Car Was Illegal
Notsofancynancy, you may particularly enjoy reading this guest blog…unless you have already!
This is the latest Guest Post from gpcox all about the vehicles in service during World War II and a little about what the American Family had to sacrifice back home.
When Making a Car Was Illegal
After Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt ordered all car manufacturers to cease the production of private automobiles and convert the factories to produce military
vehicles, weaponry, airplane engines, parts, etc. But, this would not put an end to man’s love affair with the automobile. A car manual became priceless to a private owner and a truck manual was an absolute necessity for a farmer or businessman. With the rationing of gasoline in the U.S., the “National Victory Speed” was 35 mph and driving clubs were encouraged. (Our modern day car-pools).
Automobiles were produced in massive quantities before the Great Depression and this brought the price down considerably. Then, the stock market crashed and many…
View original post 853 more words
A Humbling Easter Sunday
Easter Sunday turned out to be a tough day – emotionally for me, at least.
But it was even tougher for a 90 year old widow of the Greatest Generation.
Marge.
Marge Johnson.
We went to visit her husband’s grave site…
Mr. Doreston “Johnny” Johnson. Sergeant, United States Marine Corps. World War II.
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As I was cutting down trees and chipping the cuttings in the backyard this past Good Friday, Marge’s caretaker drove Marge up to see me. What a pleasant surprise – besides, it gave me a great excuse to stop working. I hate yard work.
After chatting, she brought up her husband. It had been a year since his funeral with full military honors and that she hadn’t been back to see him.
She didn’t need to say anything more.
We agreed I would take her to see him two days later – Easter Sunday.
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Mostly, I will let the few pictures and short videos speak for themselves.
She loved and missed him so much, she struggled out of her walker to kneel down and kiss his gravestone. I offered to help and she said, “This is something I have to do on my own…” Such fortitude.
After I DID help her back up (she said I could help her now), she reminisced with me at graveside before we departed:
On the way back to the car, we took a break (in the hot sun) as her legs are weak now. As any great lady from that great generation does, she thanked me over and over for taking her to see her husband, especially on Easter Sunday, while crying. I said to her that Mr. Johnson and Old Man Jack could never forget the horrors from combat but they were the greatest human beings – because they learned to forgive – and that it was an honor she asked ME… an American of Japanese descent, to escort her to visit with her husband.
These Americans from back then gave their all for our country… and nearly all of them have outlived their friends. They are now alone – after all that sacrifice that you nor I will EVER weather.
I think they deserve better.
We should all try to return the favor, no matter how small the gesture, when the opportunity presents itself.
Indeed, a humbling Easter Sunday.
Masako and Spam Musubi 