a proud memory

 I really enjoy history and the telling of it. Even when that history involves a bit of speculation I find it fascinating. It has been said that history is written by the victors and truer words were never put to paper, although it may have been papyrus that was used. Whatever the time and era history has been recorded in that fashion. Only years later, after anomonisty or sheer hatred has subsided will an alternative history be offered. The alternative history involves motives more than facts in most cases. Usually a bit of an apology is involved as well. Justification and explanations abound in the context of time. We are surely seeing this today in America. But that isn't what I am occupied with this morning. I'm thinking of a bit of history from my past. It  was inspired by what I wrote yesterday regarding my great grandmother, time, wars and the mementos of those wars. I wrote of a personal memento and how it related to myself. And today I find myself wanting to explain a war memento of my own, an explanation of what it is.
 I was stationed aboard the USS Nitro AE-23 homeported at Earle, New Jersey. The Nitro was an ammunition ship. That is, her mission was to carry ammo for the other ships in the fleet, and she also had the capability to refuel other ships. Thanksgiving was just a few weeks away, we were docked at the pier, doing maintenance, relaxing a bit and looking forward to the holidays. That was in 1990 and I had three more years until I reached retirement. I had made several Med cruises, been to the Caribbean, sailed the North Sea, the Bering straits, the Black sea, crossed the equator and the artic circle. Yes I had done a lot over the last seventeen years. And then the word came down, Iraq had invaded Kuwait! We were to make immediate preparations for deployment. All leaves were cancelled, we would leave within the week for the Persian Gulf. No time to go home, no time to brood about any of that. In 1990 there were no cell phones, no e-mails or FaceTime. I went to the phonebooth on the pier to make a phone call. A text message would require postage and about three days to get there.  The message, We're deploying before Thanksgiving and expect to return before the fourth of July. And that is exactly what took place. It was called Operation Desert Shield.
 We sailed to the Persian gulf with our cargo holds stocked with ammo of all description. The tanks were full of fuel for the ships and helicopters. Basically we were a floating bomb and fuel platform, one without armaments' of our own. Oh a couple of fifty calibers had been hastily mounted on the superstructure as a defense against aerial attack. I wasn't feeling too secure about all of that but laughed it off. We arrived in time for the initial assault on the Iraqi's. The object was to drive them out of Kuwait and back into their own country. On January the 17th, 1991 it began, naval and aerial bombardment of the Iraqi forces. It lasted non-stop for about 100 hours! It was described as shock and awe. I was in the engine room of that ship, Machinist Mate of the Watch was my duty station. In between watches I did get to go on deck and look off in the distance. In the evening hours you could see the flashes of light signaling an explosion of some type. I could hear the boom of the big guns! But we were well back from the action, they was no real danger for us. Following that phase the assault continued but the code name was now Desert Storm. Desert Shield/Desert Storm are forever linked in history as a single action but that isn't the truth of it. Desert Shield was the first half, the softening up if you will, Desert Storm was the ground troops that moved in to expel the Iraqi's. The success was amazing and as with previous actions, we quit at the border. Our orders would not allow us to continue the assault and unseat Saddam Hussein from power. I was retired by then, but in 2003 US forces led the invasion of Iraq that unseated Hussein.
 Now the USS Nitro AE-23 has long since been scrapped. I have long since been retired. I have a photograph of her, an old ball cap with her name embroidered on the crown and some memories. In the shadow box that was presented to me upon my retirement are my ribbons and medals earned during my twenty years of service. Not all medals and ribbons are equal however. I didn't earn any medals for heroism or some meritorious action. Nothing like that. I got the generic National Defense Ribbon and medal that is issued to anyone that served a minimum of 90 days of service, while the country is at war. Mine has a star indicating I did that twice. I have the good conduct ribbon with two stars. That indicates I was a good sailor for at least 12 continuous years. I have a couple others that escape me at the moment. But there is one that I most admire. It is " The medal for the liberation of Kuwait " issued by the government of Saudi Arabia. A medal issued to me by a foreign government. That is what makes it a rather special award to have. This particular medal was only issued to those that were there, Desert Shield/Desert Storm between the 17th of January 1991 and February 28, 1991. That makes that medal a rare one to have because of the short time period. There are other medals issued for Desert Shield/Desert Storm that cover a longer time period issued by other governments, and by our own. The Southwest Asia service medal is one and I have that as well.
 The medal in that shadow box is the one I was issued. At the time of my retirement you could not purchase a replica of that medal as there were none. Normally the ribbons and medals in a shadow box are purchased by the ones presenting you the box. The " personal " medals are held by the service member. I'm certain replica's are available today for collectors. I expect the number of us actually entitled to wear that medal are fewer in number now. That medal will have been in that box 27 years this October.
 I record this in the hope that it will continued to be valued in the future. I suspect my grandson will become the custodian of that one day. I've told him on numerous occasions about that medal and the significance of it. It can't hurt to write it down. I have my Dad's medals but no story to go with them. What I know of them I have read on the internet. Old battles fought, victories achieved. I was awarded a medal, by a foreign government as recognition for my contribution, however small that may have been. And that's pretty cool in my book. Something to take pride in. A small piece of history that I was a part of and witness to. Just one is a sea of faces, but I was there. Victorious I get to write the story!
 Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures but the reflection off the glass messed me up. :)  Anyway. that's my shadow box and the medal is,  The medal for the liberation of Kuwait. ( official name )

Lucy, in the sky

 Lucy sat rocking gently back and forth as the needle passed through the thin silk material in her fingers. Her practiced movements were almost machine like in their precision as her thoughts wandered to the past. Twenty years had passed , twenty years that seemed on one hand the briefest of times and on the other, a lifetime. She was thinking of her youngest daughter Clara. Dear sweet Clara, such a fragile soul that had left this world at so early an age. Clara was just twenty when she had given birth to her second child. She had had difficulty with her first, a boy she had named Elwood after the father. She had rested, waited before having another, hoping to build strength. The doctor had warned her of the dangers. But Clara did so want to have more children, to be a good wife and mother.She had agreed if it was a boy, he would be named Austin Bennett. Austin Bennett was the name of her husbands best friend and mentor. Clara passed just three days after the birth of her second child, a boy named Austin Bennett.  The needle kept passing through the material as her mind worked on the past.
 She thought of the wedding that had taken place, right there in the front parlor, as they called it. The Reverend Stokes of the Methodist church officiating the nuptials. Elwood, the groom, lived in Greenport, due north of Clara's home on the south fork of Long Island. The grandson of a German immigrant he seemed a bit strange and different. Back in those days fishing boats frequently crossed the waters separating the forks of Long Island. These days automobiles and trucks had replaced boats for such travel. Clara had met him on one such journey. Elwood cut a dashing figure, a house painter and fisherman by trade. He painted to pay the bills but fished more for the love of it, than the profits to be made. If he could, he would have fished exclusively. After a brief courtship they were married and began their family. All that seemed so long ago now. Clara was gone, Elwood her husband was also gone, having passed of a ruptured appendix on a trip tp Florida in search of employment. Elwood had been overwhelmed by the passing of Clara, left alone with two small children. Lucy had taken those grandchildren as her own and raised them. And now those boys were off to war. The youngest, Austin Bennett just twenty years old. The year was 1944 and the second worlds war was reaching a crescendo. Elwood and Austin both called up, both answering the call to duty.
 Lucy glanced down at her needlework and said a silent prayer. Her needlework was taking shape now, the pattern becoming clear. It was a copy of the unit patch that Austin wore upon his uniform. It was the emblem of the 65th Heavy Bombardment Squadron, Eight Air Force, in the European campaign. This same symbol could be seen painted on the tail of B-24 Bombers as they took to the skies over Germany. It depicted a set of dice. The number eleven on top and seven underneath. The Lucky Dice squadron. And that was the prayer, that the squadron would enjoy good luck. She was all too aware that 71% of those assigned to bomber crews would never return! The assignment was that dangerous, that mortal. Austin had turned twenty, that very September. Another incidence of twenty. And she knew that he had to complete 25 bomb runs before his tour was over. That was the rule. If you survived twenty five runs, you were incredibly lucky and sent back home to finish your service in safety. Lucy prayed for twenty five.
 Twenty years. Clara had been born in 1904, the youngest of her three children, all girls. Her sisters Sarah and Jesse had married and moved away. That was shortly after the first world war, the war to end all wars. Her own father, James B Terry had served in the civil war, 127th New York Volunteers. He was there, at Fort Sumter when the confederates surrendered the fort back to the union forces. He had been too old, too infirm to serve in WW1 and her husband Floyd had registered for the draft but spared the call to duty. She thought she had been lucky then, the first world war was going to be the last, until Hitler and then the Japanese attacked.
 Lucy laid her needlepoint aside, it was getting near dinner time and Floyd would soon be home. She reached for her Bible that was her constant companion in times of trouble. She leafed through the pages of that dogged eared book and found the place were she had left off. This wasn't her first reading, not by a long shot, there were notes in the margins and circled passages that comforted her. Reading a favorite verse with a reverent mind she could only pray.
 Lucy finished that handkerchief with the logo prominently displayed in the center. She had added a little fancy work in one corner, the feminine touch required in all such sentimental objects. She was Grandmother and Mother to Austin. She mailed that to him along with her prayers and well wishes. Austin carried that handkerchief with him on every mission, folded neatly beside the Blood Chit and Map in the inside breast pocket of his flight jacket. He returned in January of 1946 having completed his service. It was tucked away with his other war mementos as he tried to forget what he had experienced.
 I know this because I am his son, also Austin Bennett. Lucy is my great grandmother. I have her bibles, a few faded photographs, and no memory of her. Floyd, great grandfather, I knew well as a child. I inherited a bit of Dad's things, old photographs from the war, his ribbons and medals. I also have that handkerchief. I have decided to frame it. It was 76 years ago that Lucy put that thread through that cloth and bound the luck into the fabric. Love was that binding. And I'm lucky to have it.

What the real patch looked like 

listening

 I have taken about a week off from writing or posting any blog. The desire to do so came upon me as unexpectedly as those that look for my ramblings. It wasn't a medical issue, it wasn't anything special. I suppose you could say it was a mental issue. I didn't stop thinking, I stopped speaking for a while. Even now I am hesitant to post anything having a feeling that perhaps that has run its' course. I will say it has a been a " hobby " longer than most things I take an interest in. I did play with a guitar for thirty years or so and never became proficient at that, nor popular. Well, we can't all play instruments and sing. It was an amusement I enjoyed with the hope of being mildly successful, I wasn't. But with this blogging, the original intent was just to share thoughts and stories. It has morphed over a decade of writing into something else. What that something else is, is what I have been thinking about for about a week now. The biggest question to be answered is, does it have to be anything? I've always said I was writing it more for myself than anyone else but has that been the truth of it? Of that I'm not quite so certain, but I can say I have always been honest in my writing, even when my thoughts weren't in the popular domain. I ran across a statement made by Bene Brown, had to look up who she is, not being an avid reader of self help books. But I read this quote and thought it was insightful. " When we own our own stories, we avoid being trapped as characters in stories someone else is telling. " It is a condensed version I what I was saying ten years ago when I first began my blogging. Of course I didn't say it as succinctly or with such clarity, but the thought was the same. I want to leave my story in my own words so as to avoid others telling it. It was just a validation of a thought I often repeat, there is little one can say that hasn't been said before, or apparently after. I didn't research what year Ms. Brown published that quote.
 I often hear about finding your calling. Everyone has a calling to do something. I think the challenge there is deciding which voice to listen to. I can't speak for anyone else but I hear a lot of voices calling. I don't mean literally, I not hearing voices but metaphorically speaking. I have pursued the things that interested me, I have pursued the things that others say I have a knack or talent for, but I haven't found that one thing to be passionate about. And isn't that what we are told, that we should pursue that which we are passionate about regardless of any outside influences negative or positive. I see others doing that, I figure they must be oblivious to what others are doing or saying as they display no hint of being self conscious. I marvel at that ability, I can't decide if that is a good thing or narcissism. I've been listening but no one voice speaks above the rest.
 Having taken a hiatus from social media and composing/posting this blog I do feel a bit more of a calm than in the past. I guess that is why the ostrich sticks his head in the sand. Well that's just a myth I'm aware of that but the intent is the same. They are hiding from perceived danger. I wasn't hiding from danger, just distancing myself from politics for a bit. Just existing requires a bit of politics! Society is controlled by politics, not necessarily elected officials either! The politics of socialization are just as dangerous, just as fraught with missteps, as any campaign for office. One has to decide if they are running on principle or popularity. It is unnerving when your principles aren't popular. It seems I have run short on stories to tell, that's the memories part and the default has been those random thoughts. It is those random thoughts that I consider organizing into some form of book. It appears that it would be some sort of philosophy. Philosophy is just a theory and perhaps that is why it appeals to me so. It can't be proven right or wrong. It's a safe discipline. But it is a discipline that relies upon popularity. You are correct when people agree, incorrect when they don't. I wonder what a psychiatrist and philosopher would have to say about all of that? Either one may hold PhD's in their respective field, and neither one can be proven right or wrong.
 So I'm back at this keyboard once again, the discussion continues. I've decided to talk to myself once again. I was angry with myself for a while. Now I've decided to begin again and see where the path leads. I guess you just have to decide to keep walking, even when you have to walk alone. Is that it? Is the voice you hear your own? That could be it, I can say with authority I wish I had listened to myself more than once. Taking your own advice, isn't that what they say? Harder to do that than  what one would think. I mean I give great advice, taking it, not so much. It all goes back to the voice thing. Who are you listening too? 

Juneteenth

 Should we add another National holiday to the list? Juneteenth, June the 19th to commemorate the reading of field order number three in the state of Texas, declaring all slaves are free. It's certainly an event to celebrate and commemorate, I don't think anyone would deny that. A national holiday is to be celebrated by everyone, so everyone gets the day off, with pay. Unfortunately, for that reason alone I'm certain this idea will gain support. The last federal holiday created celebrates Dr. Martin Luther King. Back in 1968 the Uniform Monday holiday act was passed. We still celebrate Lincoln and Washington's birthdays, just not on their actual birthdays, always on Monday.  It's the same thing with Dr. King, it isn't celebrated on his real birthdate , just the Monday closest to it. So that begs the question, when to celebrate Juneteenth? Would it be on the 19th of June every year or just the closet Monday? Will it make a difference? That Uniform Monday Holiday act attempted to move Veterans day, and did for a short time, it was restored to the actual day the war ended. It took ten years for that to happen but the significance of the date finally won out over convenience.
 I'm not opposed to adding an observance of such a mementos act. I would argue that perhaps the dates of the 13,14 and fifteenth amendments to our constitution should also be remembered, many seem to have forgotten the significance of that legislative action. And what of the civil rights act of 1964? In the area of civil rights there are many steps that could be applauded. Those steps continue until the present day. But what about Juneteenth? It is the date that the abolition of slavery in America was not only declared, remember Lincoln had issued the Emancipation Proclamation in Septemeber of 1862 to take effect 1 January 1863. We have to remember however that in reality Lincoln held no legal authority over the confederate states and so the order was nothing more than political posturing at that time. But on Juneteenth the union had been restored and the full weight of the federal government would be used to enforce that order! Yes, all the slaves were freed, effectively immediately. It applied to all slaves, not just black ones, although they were certainly in the majority as far as enslavement at that time in history.
 I do support making June the 19th a national holiday. But I feel like it should be more of a remembrance than a celebration. It was a day that freed everyone in bondage in the United States of America. It is a date to remember. We should remember what was gained as a nation. No longer would portions off our nation embrace an ideology that enslaves there fellow man. And that is what should be remembered, lest we ever allow that to happen again, in any form whatsoever. We the people in order to form a more perfect union did engage in mortal combat to make this land the home of the free! Brother fought brother! Yes, it's true men do not easily surrender their ideologies, even when those ideologies are just plain wrong! For that reason all the follow on legislation became a necessity. It's sad to say, the need continues. But I think we should remember what was gained and continue to build upon that. Progress has been slow. But let us not be weighed down with what was, let us remember.
 You know following the Civil War a day was set aside to remember. It was called decoration day. The intent was to remember those that had fallen. It wasn't one side or the other, no it was North and South, the widows mostly that started this practice. The intent was to remember and commemorate those brave men. As the years moved forward, people began to forget. The name was changed to Memorial Day and eventually celebrated on a Monday, to take advantage of having a three day weekend! That's what happens when you go from remembrance to celebration. On Juneteenth are we to remember and commemorate, or celebrat an occasion? To commemorate means to show honor and respect for a person or event. Now to remember is to recall, what is it we wish to remember? On Juneteenth are we to remember the reading of a field order, or all of those that suffered over the centuries in slavery? A milestone for a Nation or is it something else? Do we remember or just celebrate. In my experience much is often forgotten in celebration, consider Memorial day as an example of that. To remember, to teach future generations is a solemn obligation. When we fail to do that, we fail our children and the future. 

an early start

 Today is the first day of summer. It will last ninety three days until we reach the autumn equinox. I read somewhere that the celebration at Stonehenge is to be televised for the first time. It almost escaped me as I was expecting summer to arrive on the 21st. I know the actual equinox varies from year to year. Astronomy isn't a strong point for me and I have difficulty identifying stars and such. I guess I was just never fascinated by any of that having decided there isn't anything I can do about it. It is what it is. If I were lost, at night, under a starry sky, I'd still be lost. Well I never was a boy scout. Yes I was in the Navy but I was in the engine room, no stars down there. I went to a lot of foreign places but never saw how I got there. Well the fact is, all oceans look the same.
 Something tells me this is going to be a long hot summer. I'm thinking this is going to be especially true in the  cities this year. Under otherwise normal conditions crime and violence in the city increases with the temperature. This year there are so many other factors it gives me pause to think. Not that I go into the city, any city, very often but I'm afraid this summer will be memorable for all the wrong reasons. I do hold out some hope for change. There is a movement afoot, let's all hope more people get on board with that. Peaceful protest is a good thing, needless to say, rioting and looting are not! We all have to wait and see which way the mob goes. What becomes the popular movement? It really does boil down to the same old struggle, good vs evil. It's an unfortunate reality that good is usually only adopted when it comes with some tangible benefit.
 I don't have any school age children and the grandkids are in there late teens but I'm thinking this has to feel like a different summer to those that do. There were no graduation ceremonies in the traditional sense to mark the end of the school year. The younger children have felt like they were on vacation for a while now. There wasn't the routine of getting up, having breakfast and catching the school bus. In Maryland that began in March. You could say summer vacation began then, although distance learning continued. I'm certain obtaining a passing grade was made easier by all of that. There are some educators that are saying it will take a year or more for the children to catch up. If school reconvenes in the fall it will certainly be different. Masks and social distancing, staggered days in actual attendance in the classroom, and what of the extracurricular activates? Can you have a band with the musicians sitting six foot apart?  What about plays and clubs? Two assemblies for the same topic? Yes, it'll be different alright.
 Well it's getting time for me to begin my summer. I'm planning on starting by hanging wallpaper for my granddaughter. She is redecorating her bedroom. I have to say wallpapering is a lot easier than painting. I have painted that room several times over the years. Well, that's what grandpa's are for. I get to spoil those kids and then complain about it when they aren't around. I don't have any big plans for this summer, truth is I haven't made plans for summer any year that I recall. I just go with the flow. Never have been  much on planning vacations and such. I do hope to go clamming at some point. I did manage to go once last year. It's a bit of a drive from my house to get somewhere to do that. Last year I did scratch up one clam. Yes, just one, but it was a chowder and delicious. I cut it into pieces and made believe it was three clams.
 Whatever your plans are enjoy your summer. It started early this year. A lot of things have started early this year. I won't go into any of that though. To be honest I'll be happy when it's over. This whole year as a matter of fact. So far 2020 has been a mess.  
  

The enablers

 Remember when we were told, God helps those who help themselves? Remember when we were taught accountability? Remember, you made your bed now lie in it? Remember when we were told, no use in crying over spilled milk! Well I remember all of those lessons and more. Those lessons instructed us in real life, in the reality of living in this world. It really was up to us to succeed, to make the correct choices and decisions. We were " pushed " from the nest, just as baby birds are, and expected to fly. If you didn't fly, you fell to the ground. It's an interesting thing, the Robin, among other species of birds do that, and do that as soon as possible. Why? It gives the fledgling bird the best chance at survival on its' own. They need to learn at an early age to get by on their own. Parents today could take a lesson from nature in that regard. And that brings me to todays thought, enablers.
 Enabler is a term we hear used to describe those that encourage, or at the very least allow, inappropriate behaviors in others. How do they do that? By being nonjudgmental. That's right, by not telling the person what they are doing wrong, why its' wrong, or reassuring that person that, even if it is wrong, it isn't their fault! Sounds like a liberal Democrat to me. In fact in my way of thinking the Democratic party should just change their name to that, The Enablers! Their agenda appears to be complete dependence instead of independence. You can't do it on your own. Didn't the " enabler in chief " Barack Obama clearly state that when he said, " if you have a business, you didn't build that. Somebody else made that happen. " In fact he said it twice. What party is the champion of social programs? The Democratic party. What do social programs ultimately lead too? A socialist government is the answer. Yes, it sounds great when someone wants to give you something, for free. Thing is we all know nothing is really free, there is a price to be paid. If not with our money with our freedom. Dependence is not independence! That's exactly why the mother bird pushes that baby from the nest, so the baby bird learns independence! Was a time we called it tough love, back when we still had a grasp on reality and acknowledged that. Today the Democrats want to substitute the word empathy for discipline. It's not your fault, as long as you understand it is someone else's fault and can find some reason for that, doesn't matter if that something happened a few centuries ago, it's not your fault! For that reason you mustn't judge. You should already know; it's not your fault. Your only responsibility is to enable that person to continue doing whatever they choose to do! Well as long as it benefits you that is, as long as it reinforces your power, position or wealth. Should they interfere with that, well then, we'll help them to death! They will submit no matter what.
 How will the enablers accomplish that? Simple really, say whatever they want to hear, promise whatever it is they want, and normalize their behaviors. In the end they will become dependent upon the enabler. They will come to understand they will collapse without them and agree to whatever terms the enabler demands. No different than an alcoholic or drug addict, they will debase themselves to get that fix, get that need satisfied. Pride becomes a word applied to justify debauchery. I'm proud to be dependent! After all, it's not my fault.
 Consider this: there is a deadly virus, we should all shelter in place. close the small businesses and restaurants, if this virus spreads it will be your fault! Doesn't matter if you actually have the virus or not, wear your face covering and stay six feet away from others. But we won't close the liquor stores or pot dispensaries. No, they are essential. Why? To enable those that are alcoholics and pot heads to continue doing that. To make them stop is dangerous, it could kill them!  After all, it's not their fault.
 Consider this: a couple of bad cops kill a black man. Riots ensue. The police are then vilified for being racists and any attempt to control the rioting is met with cries of racism. Liberals close down a police station. they set up an autonomous zone! What is the response from the Democrats? The enablers say, defund the police! They will restore order by what means? Tolerance, just allow them to do as they please. If that isn't a description of enabling I don't what is. And the main stream media keeps feeding the message, all white people are racists, except for the Democrats, except for the enablers, they are wearing Kente scarfs and taking a knee! Yes, for now they are, until they gain control. Then things go back to the old ways. The only answer will be, more social programs! In the end you have what? A socialist government run by the enablers.
 The real problem in all of that is eventually the enablers become dictators. They grow weary giving after they have given away everyone else's money. The story changes when it is their own money they have to give away. When they have to actually make good on their promises they will falter. The enablers will abandon those not contributing to their cause. They will demand complete loyalty to the party. You either comply or be eliminated. You become a slave to the state. Just what the enablers wanted all along.   

In the past

 In a conscious effort to avoid talking about current events, some of which are just too ridiculous to even waste my time on, I look to the past. It was on this day two hundred and eight years ago, that James Madison signed a declaration of war against Britain. The War of 1812 was officially on! The war hawks in Congress had applied a lot of pressure on the President to do so. The British were busy fighting with Napoleon and thought of this conflict as a part of that. The war hawks in America didn't feel that way at all, they thought of it as a separate war altogether. The British had blockaded French ports and it was taking its' toll on commerce. Yes, like most wars and conflicts it involves making money on some level.
 The first major battle of that war was the Battle of Queenstown Heights. That happened in October of 1812. We tried to invade Canada. That's right the United States attempted to invade Canada. We lost the battle. The British waged a defensive war. All they really did was repel our attempts and left it at that. The British hired some native Americans to fight for them as well. That's because they shared a common desire, to halt the western expansion of the United States. The fighting continued for nearly three years ending with the Battle of New Orleans. Most of us older folks know the song or have at least heard of it sung by Johnny Horton." We fought the bloody British in the town of New Orleans " It was a hit song in 1959 and one I remember well. Probably because of the part about grabbing an alligator and powdering his behind, pretty funny stuff you are eight years old. The British were driven to the gulf and surrendered. That was the end of that.
 The War of 1812 is mostly forgotten about. You hardly ever hear anything about it. The government did issue land grants to those that served in the war. That land was mostly in the new western territory that fought the war over. We won, we now controlled that land. The Natives couldn't mount an effective defense of their lands. Perhaps if all the tribes had banded together the outcome would have been different but we'll never know. I have ancestors that were granted land for their service. As far as I can tell no one ever went there to actually live on or claim that land. My ancestors weren't part of that pioneer stock you hear so much about. At least not to my knowledge they weren't. But they are veterans of that war. It was a real war, with real people being killed! But how did we come to just forget about that? That I can't say. It was after a battle on Lake Erie that Oliver Hazard Perry sent this message, " We have met the enemy and they are ours. " Pretty famous saying wouldn't you say? Captain James Lawrence, mortally wounded and lying on the deck of the USS Chesapeake uttered these words, " Don't give up the ship. " They didn't and went on to defeat the HMS Shanon.
Another interesting fact from this war is that about 3000 slaves escaped and went to Nova Scotia where they fought for the British. Others escaped as well. After the war, the British paid the United States 1,204,960 dollars to compensate slave owners for their loss. All of that is mostly forgotten now. Two thousand two hundred and sixty Americans died in that war with four thousand five hundred and five wounded. More died from disease than from battle.
 Oh, one more thing. The Star Spangled banner was written during the war of 1812. Key was being held aboard a British ship moored off of Baltimore and witnessed the shelling of Fort McHenry. That is were he wrote those words. I guess if anyone knows something about the war of 1812 it is that. There are few memorials to that war. The most prominent one is located in Ontario, Canada. It sits on Parliament Hill there. The Canadiens are quite proud of that and view the war of 1812 totally different than we do. To them it marked the beginning of their nation, they were still a colony of Britian in 1812. So yes, it's a big deal to them. Strangely, when the United States invaded Canada to fight the British the Canadiens helped the British! That's correct they weren't happy about that. Did you know it wasn't until 1982 that Canada obtained full independence from Britain?
 There, no current events just the past. We shouldn't forget about the past. And before I go any further, I'll stop with that statement. 

a common cat

 Yesterday afternoon I built my very first catio. Yes, a catio, a patio for my cat. Morris, like all cats is a very curious creature always running from window to window chasing whatever. I made him a few window seats for that purpose. Now with the windows open I have seen him sitting inside the window as close to the screen as he can get. It's obvious that he wants to be outside, but Morris is an inside cat. That's the reason they call them house cats you know, they stay in the house. My wife had suggested I get a harness and walk him. Well that's as likely to happen as seeing me riding a bicycle with a helmet on! No, just no. Walking a cat? Really, I understand my testosterone levels drop after the age of forty, Frank Thomas filled me in on that, but I've still got testosterone! No, no estrogen in this system, not one bit! But Morris does deserve a taste of the outdoors, so a cation seemed like the best solution.
 I live on the second floor but there is a small roof on the backside of the house that covers the downstairs utility room. So the cation door is in the window at the end of hall and rests on that roof. I purchased a pet door and fitted that into a " wall " that fits into the window opening. That will allow Morris to enter and exit the cation whenever the mood strikes. On the outside is a screened in patio that measures 16 by 24. Completely enclosed in wire he is safe in there from other critters. It's not that much room but enough that he can sit of lie down and enjoy nature. I enticed him to go out there yesterday evening. The birds were singing, the squirrels running in the trees, and Morris was sitting upright on his patio. I'm thinking he felt like the Lion king! They may have taken the animals out of the cages on those boxes of animal crackers but not Morris, Morris is still caged. I figure I'm doing all the animals outside a favor, holding him back.
 I finished building it yesterday evening. Today I need to do some finish work on it. I figure a little paint, maybe a piece of indoor/outdoor carpet and a little dressing it up. I do want it to have a good appearance. I showed him how to go in and out . This morning he has done so several times already. Seems he has learned quickly. I'm quite pleased with that. It's supposed to rain today, it'll be interesting to see what he does then. I don't think he has ever been outside in the rain. And I wonder about the snow and cold. I read were cats enjoy heights and he does have a commanding view from his catio. I like it because it does have that pet door. I don't have to worry about the a/c or heat. He can just come and go as he pleases. The fresh air and sunshine has to be good for him. It's just a small catio but who knows, maybe an addition will be in order one day. I do plan on putting up a flag by his catio, Morris is, after all, an all American cat. He's a tabby. Did you know that's not a breed but merely describes the coat? He does have the distinctive M shape on his forehead and the attendant stripes. As far as breed, he's just a common housecat, with a private catio.

another Grandma

 The past few mornings I have written about how things change over time. I was talking about fashion to a degree. But mostly I was just reflecting upon the past and how things seemed to be. They weren't always what I thought they were. Our perceptions change over time as well as fashion. Our perceptions are altered with each bit of new information that is added to our experience. And isn't that what life is, an experience? We all wonder what the next life will be like, what will that experience be? I thought I had exhausted that train of thought for a while when a Facebook posting caught my attention. My niece became a grandmother yesterday morning. Well now that'll take some of the wind out of your sails. I remember when that niece was born, I remember holding her as a baby. Now, she is a grandmother? Just what has happened in the meantime?
 I probably need to explain. You see, this niece is the daughter of my eldest brother. Shortly after she was born I joined the Navy. I stayed in the Navy for twenty years and my brother and his family went on living there lives. Seldom did we get together over the years. In fact the last time I remember seeing my niece, Karen, she was still just a child. I think she may have been ten or twelve. Back in the day there was no such thing as social media and I wasn't a letter writer. We lost touch and track of each other. I wasn't aware that she had married, had children or anything. It isn't that she was forgotten about, just not in my sphere, inside my little world. Then Facebook comes along. I begin to make connections. Just a few years back we make that connection. Of course we don't know much about each other. It's all a very cordial thing. We are family. But Uncles and Nieces that haven't seen or spoken to one another in probably forty plus years just don't have a lot to talk about. It's only a natural thing. Yes there are skeletons in the closet and at times it is best to leave that door closed.
 Anyway my whole point is simple enough. I read that proud announcement about the birth of a grandchild. I'm well aware of the feeling having experienced it myself on three different occasions. Thing is I was expecting it. I wasn't expecting to read, my niece, she's just a little girl, is now a grandmother? Just how did that happen? Well now that changes my perception just a bit. When I'm looking back it's a bit farther than I seem to remember, must've glossed over a year or two here and there. It doesn't make me feel older, it makes me feel more experienced. My degree in life just went from Masters to a PhD! Imagine that, my niece is a grandmother. That makes me a great grand Uncle. Hmm, I wonder what else I am? Yeah I probably am. Congratulations go out to all. A new history began yesterday morning at 8:29 am. And the world gained another Grandma. Did I mention that she was my niece? 

in blue jeans

 Yesterday as I wrote about Grandma I thought, in my memory, she looks like a Norman Rockwell painting. A little old lady, slightly bent over,  hair up in a bun, a big apron with big pockets, stockings, rolled on the top, and what looked like bedroom slippers on her feet. I remarked to my wife how Grandma's don't look like that anymore. Today Grandma might be wearing spandex, be blonde and wearing heels! Not an apron in sight. Then I thought, well Grandpa's don't look the same either.
 I only knew my great grandfather and so only have him as a direct reference. He wore a three piece suit, white shirt and tie, carried a cane ( walking stick ) and smoked a cigar. On warm days, he would go without the suit jacket, around the house anyway, if he left his home the jacket was on!  He wore a vest ( a waistcoat is what he called it )  and sleeve garters on his shirt. Oh, and a hat, a fedora to be exact.  A retired gentleman he wasn't wearing work clothes, he was dressed for the day. Life for him was a bit more of a formal occasion than what we think of today. And that is the image I have of my great grandfather.
  Now grandfathers I thought of as wearing a cardigan sweater, slacks of some description, a button down shirt, open at the collar and laced up shoes, mostly wingtips. But not today. Today grandpa is in blue jeans! I know, I'm a grandpa and I'm wearing blue jeans and I'm definitely not alone. Now that I'm retired I seldom wear work boots, preferring the comfort of sneakers. Yes, I still call them sneakers. I can usually be seen wearing a tee shirt, not a white one though, or a polo shirt. Button down shirts are a bit dressy for me. Well, they don't really go with blue jeans unless you are a cowboy. And that is where jeans really got their start, in the old west among miners and ranchers. In the 1950's when James Dean and Marlon Brando wore jeans in their movies it made an impression. You want to be a tough guy, you want to be cool, wear jeans and stick it to the man. Be a rebel without a cause! Roll a pack of cigarettes in the sleeve of that white tee shirt and grease that hair back. Yes, jeans became a symbol of rebellion. You know what's an interesting fact? Levi Strauss was the first clothing company to put a designer label on their clothes. Yup, that little red tag that became an icon. So men were actually the first to wear designer clothing. The women didn't start wearing jeans until the sixties, Jordache hit the scene in 1969 making quite a splash. Grandma's are still wearing jeans today. Of course they are Mom jeans these days. LOL. For Grandpa, they are relaxed fit.
 It's really a funny thing if you think about it. Growing up we figured grandparents were pretty darned old. Most were in their fifties for Gods' sake. There days had come and gone and they were just stuck where they were. That's why they listened to that funny old music and dressed funny. Hey at that age what difference could it make? They certainly weren't looking for love or anything remotely like that. It didn't matter to them what they looked like. They weren't cool and looked ridiculous when they tried to be. No grandparents either stayed home all the time and worked in the yard, read books or went to bingo. They  spent their days complaining about the " kids of today."  Funny thing about that was, it was their own kids they were talking about. Well, that generation anyway, their kids were different, unless they weren't. Know what I mean?
 Grandparents today are quite a different breed altogether. Grandparents today might be found at the skateboard park, not watching, boarding man. They might be riding bicycles, engaging in some sporting activity, streaming a video or checking out " our time " on the internet! They could be wearing the very latest in fashion, driving the coolest cars, or in the street protesting! Why grandparents today act just like regular people. And the products available to them today, well, I'm not even going to mention all of that. Let's just say it is all designed to at least give grandparents the illusion of youth. I guess you could say, life is what you perceive it to be. Todays grandparents, that includes me, have a bit of a different perception of time. Personally I figure I'll grow up when I become a great grandfather. Then I'll be dressed a bit more formally.  Until then, I'm in blue jeans. Wasn't it Neil Diamond that wrote a song about that, forever in blue jeans? But I think the song was really about something else, I can't say for sure, wasn't a big fan of his. At that time I wanted to wear leather pants, not blue jeans. I'd still wear leather pants if I thought I could pull that off. Maybe when I am a great grandfather I will. Won't matter a bit will it? I plan on being cremated so it won't make any difference what I'm wearing when the times comes for that. But I still want to be dressed for the occasion, and that is a formal occasion! Well, first impressions and all.
 What will the next generation of grandparents wear? Look at what the kids are wearing today. And by kids, I'm talking about our kids, the ones in their forties and fifties today. That's what they'll be wearing. Short pants and work boots, lots of camo and ball caps on backyards. The grandma's, well I'm not going to comment on the grandma's. Remember life is what we perceive it to be and many times our appearance is the same. We call it confident instead of denial, but as long as we are comfortable it doesn't matter. I'm just happy my generation didn't wind up as grandparents in leisure suits! At least we were smart enough to get past that disco crap! I expect I'll remain, forever in blue jeans.  
   

dreams

 When I woke up this morning I was thinking about my grandmother. Well, not so much about her as about what her dreams and aspirations may have been. I say that because I really have no idea. As a small child I spent a good deal of time at her house when my own mother went to visit her mom.  Funny how when you are a kid you sometimes forget that connection. I mean you know it, but forget it. Anyway, grandma's house was a great place to be, lots to do and a little mysterious. She had that big old cook stove in the corner with the wood box right next to it. Coal sat in the bucket by that wood box as well. Everything revolved around that kitchen. She had a dining room with an old table covered in oil cloth. Against the far wall was a tall cabinet with a tiny black and white television on it, rarely did I see that turned on. Grandma had raised ten children in this home and I knew a few of them, the majority however were just names to me, my mom's brothers and sisters. And somehow that didn't equate to be my Aunts' and Uncle's. At least in the mind of a child it didn't. And grandma, grandma washed and ironed other peoples clothes to earn a living. Grandpa had passed before I was even born and was rarely mentioned. No, it was just grandma that lived in that house now, alone with work and her memories.
 I woke up thinking about that and wondering what it is that she would have liked to be doing. Maybe that is what she wanted to do? I just don't know. I suspect she wasn't really any different from any of us there must have been other things besides having babies, keeping house and doing laundry. I honestly can't remember her ever  saying or talking about doing anything else. Did she like to draw, paint, sew, knit, or write poetry? What were her interests? She had gone to culinary school and was a pastry chef. But that was before she was married. Did she choose that profession because she enjoyed that? I wonder. Back in her day young ladies didn't get a whole lot of choice about things. She was sent to America, Sweden was her home, to care for a sick aunt. She did that for a number of years. After her aunt passed she went to that school, or was sent, I don't know which. None of that matters though, the past is the past.
 I never thought to ask her anything about any of that when I was a kid. Grandma was always busy, always working, and you don't disturb people working. She would give me chores to do, " helping " is what she called it. The truth is it was just stuff to keep me busy. A favorite was nailing down that strip of metal covering the seam in that linoleum floor in the kitchen. A small tack hammer and a box of small nails, entertained for a good hour or so. When I was older, chopping wood or making kindling was a fun thing to do. Maybe Grandma didn't want to talk about any of that, maybe she just blocked her dreams out. I don't know why but I feel a sense of sadness when I think about that. I wish I knew. Now that I'm 66 I do understand that grandparents have dreams too. Imagine that, old people having dreams.
 As a teen I didn't have much time for Grandma. Oh I would stop some days after school to say hello. Especially days when I had heard she had baked some Swedish pastries. I never spent any time just sitting and talking with her though. Grandma, nana as I called her, was always there. She didn't drive, she rarely left her house. I don't know of any friends she may have had, no neighbors visiting, nothing like that. Aunt Edna got her groceries and other supplies for her. I never heard of her going to a doctor, for anything. She fell at home one day and broke her hip. Then she fell off a gurney at the hospital and had a head injury. She spent her last years in a nursing home, not remembering most of her adult life from what I've been told. I never went to see her there, too young. Of course that was back in the day when parents didn't take their children to such places not wishing to expose us to that. I remember when you had to be 16 to visit someone in the hospital, it was no place for children. Nana passed and I didn't attend the funeral. Her memory remains with me, a warm kitchen, a gentle and kind old lady with a bun and an apron. But she must have had dreams, I wonder what they may have been.  

the old way

 Yesterday I went back to my roots. I was replacing the right front strut on my car. A return? Yes it is in a manner of speaking as it the way I grew up. In my house you either fixed what you had or did without. That's the way it worked with most things. Purchasing something new or hiring someone else to fix it was a very rare occurrence. The big exception being a television. Sure we would look at the tubes when the thing didn't work, pull any that were suspect and test them at Maltasanttes' (sp ) store. If that didn't fix the problem, the repairman would be called. I can honestly only recall that happening on one occasion. It wasn't a tube, Dad had purchased a new television, A Quasar, works in a drawer model, pretty high tech stuff. No tubes in that baby, all transistors. Then a circuit board failed, the repairmen was called, the price was crazy! Had to wait for the part too. That modern stuff was alright when it worked but you can't fix it yourself.
 It was the way I was raised and I always thought everyone did the same. I learned the basics of plumbing, electrical, carpentry and auto repair. If something needed repair, you fixed it. Over time it became a matter of pride, the ability to do it yourself. It wasn't until I was fifty or so that I paid someone to change the oil in my car or truck. Pay to have your brakes done? Pay to have a plumber replace a kitchen faucet? No that was something rich people do. they don't know how to do anything. Growing up my father was always fixing or building. It was expected that you should know what was what. Whatever tool he asked for you had better know, whatever he instructed , you had to understand. I grew up answering questions like, is it plumb? If told to ground something I was expected to comply instantly. Well truth is, you were to comply instantly to any directive in my house. That sometimes led to friction, impatient and yelling!
 I'd say in the last ten years or so I have paid others to do those things I could have done myself. I make excuses at times. I don't have the right tools, the time, or I feign I really don't know how. That has gotten easier over the years because there is a lot I don't know about this modern stuff. Mostly it is all the electronics that throw a wrench into the works! That's strange because you don't need a wrench to fix electronic stuff. Take modern automobiles as an example. You can know all about the mechanical parts, replace them, rarely are they repaired these days, but the electronics will not allow the engine to run, or the brakes to work, or the seat belts, or something! Very frustrating. I understand now how my father felt with his new television. You just can't see the problem. And the problem is electricity, in some form or another. Energy. Energy is something we can neither create or destroy. All we can do is attempt to direct it.
 Today I will replace the strut on the left side of the car. I'm working in the driveway, a gravel drive. I do have the luxury of a hydraulic jack, a far cry from the bumper jacks of old. and a fine set of jack stands. Safety first! That's something that has changed over the years, things weren't always quite as secure back in the day. But I'll jack it up, pull the wheel and begin. I'll complain about my back hurting, mutter words I'm surprised I even know, and get the job done. Yesterday I smashed my thumb so I'm feeling relatively unscathed. The whole time I am involved in this I am reminded of days gone by. It is a rather satisfying feeling knowing you can still get the job done yourself, independent. I'm grateful for you tube videos, they are quite helpful. I find them better than the old Clintons manual. So the new is helping the old. If only I had you tube in the sixties, I would probably know a lot more about electronic stuff. Thing is, as far as I can tell you just replace components though, you don't actually fix the problem. The knowledge you need to know is what component to replace. Guess it's sorta the same thing. Kinda the difference between building a stick built house and a prefab. The prefab one is easier but not quite as satisfying, in my opinion. Well, time to get going. I can direct my energy into replacing that strut, you can't repair it. At least there is no electronics to worry about with that. A simple straightforward mechanical device. I like it. Old fashioned, like me.
And then what do we say? As good as new. That's right, we will say, it's as good as new.         

on repeat

 Apparently we are back to tearing down statues. That and Nascar bans Confederate battle flags. Well, because those flags don't represent anything but racism. Whereas I don't agree with that, I can see the reasoning behind it. The civil war was fought over a number of reasons. The one most often cited by modern historians is States rights. The war was fought defending the right of each state to govern itself without federal intervention. Yes that's true, of course the issue was just what right they wanted to keep. The right to enslave human beings was that right! And what was the reason for that? Economic considerations is the short answer. It could be argued, and has been, that the institution of slavery was fading away anyway, as mechanical means became available to replace human labor. Think Eli Whitney and the cotton gin. The quest to replace human labor with machines continues until this very day. It's all around us. Machines are always cheaper in the long run.
 Now I'm hearing about defunding the police departments. Joe Biden says he doesn't support that but does support withholding government subsidies' should they not perform according to government standards. In short he doesn't support defunding them, just withholding funds. I guess I'm missing something there as I don't see the difference. But whatever it takes to get votes I suppose. It's like all the Democrats suddenly wearing Kinte scarfs. Pandering? Yeah, I'd say so. Strangely a short time back there would have been an uproar about that citing cultural appropriation! Guess not this time. In Seattle the people have taken over a police station and renamed it a people station. I say let them have it, let nature take its' course as they say. I feel bad for the ones that don't support any of that, surely there are a few sane people in Seattle, they can't all be liberals. Guess none of them ever read Lord of the Flies or if they did, understood the message. They soon will is my feeling. But maybe it is related to this common core education our children have been subjected too, not too many moral lessons in any of that as far as I can tell. It's all touchy feely stuff these days, let's avoid the realities whenever possible. Have an unwanted baby? Just kill it, your choice.
 Mr. Floyd was eulogized for two weeks. The unrest continues following what can only be seen as a homicide. There is no disputing that fact. Now that he has been laid to rest, his brother testifying before Congress on the injustice, some legislation will follow.  Just what will that entail? I hear Police reform is on top of the agenda. The banning of choke holds, already illegal in the majority of police departments, and other procedural measures. A look at history will show that the Police departments have responded to the actions of the criminals. Back in the 1920's the police carried a service revolver and may or may have a long gun. The gangsters, think Al Capone, Scarface Nelson and others all had " tommy " guns. When confronted by the police they opened fire! The police were vastly outgunned and in defense began arming themselves in response to that. The escalation has continued to the point where police have to wear bullet proof vests, helmets, and full tactical gear. Why? Is it because the police want to dominate the streets, they are a military force? No, they are trying to stay alive while protecting you and your rights. The criminals don't care about laws and legislation. Now I'm not saying Mr. Floyd was a criminal and deserved to be placed in a choke hold. The Police officers responsible for that have been arrested and face charges for their actions, as they should. But are we now to handcuff the police in effecting an arrest whenever the subject resists? Are we going to insist the police only bring a knife to a gun fight? Should we just allow criminals to flee unchecked? Keep in mind I'm not talking about Mr. Floyd.
 I wonder, does it not occur to anyone else that by allowing violence, destruction and rioting to change the laws, that it what will be employed every time? It's like dealing with a child really. If you give them the toy every time they cry and throw a fit that is what they will do every time. Yes there are those that stage peaceful protests, a right guaranteed to us by the Constitution. I don't have an issue with any of that. What I do take issue with is rioting, looting, destruction of property and all of that. That's not a protest, that's a riot! A society without law and order is not a society at all. Are we now to restrict law enforcement to the point it is ineffective? Yes there are bad people in the police department, yes there are instances of injustice and abuse. Yes, there is bias and prejudicial treatment. Bottom line however, you can't legislate morality or ethics! There is no test for that. I hear one thing being discussed is that all Police personal records should be public information. I should be able to see and read any Police officers personal work history, personal file, on demand. I ask, would you agree to that? If you do can I read all your personal files, everything anyone ever wrote down about you? Would that be alright? You want a loan from the bank, I should be able to examine any and all personal files you have, not just ask the people you provided as a reference. No, I want to ask the boss that fired you from that job when  you were 18, or the person you still owe ten bucks to on a lost bet. Yes, I should be able to access any of that information, on demand, at any time, for any reason. As an employer I should have access to everything, you know, to make an informed decision about you. After all, what if you are just a troublemaker, your last employer said so, I wouldn't want to hire you. Were you involved in a physical altercation years back? You might snap again, at any moment, better not hire you. What about any tattoos you may sport, are they offensive? I wouldn't want to offend anyone that comes into contact with you, even if I don't mind those tats. I could get sued!
 Well, all I can do is wait. What's next? No one knows what the future holds. A study of history isn't a bright and shining star. It is that that troubles me the most. Seems like so few learn from the past. That's why they want to tear it down, take down any reminders of that past. In that way we can, at some point, say once again, let's try that. We have forgotten. The one that do remember will be dismissed as old fashioned, out of touch and dismissed. Yeah, all that was a long time ago, it couldn't happen today! Well, except history does have a way of repeating itself.       

when that happens

 I've been saying it for a while now, there can be no discussion. As I listen to the news and all the pundits chattering that is being confirmed. A discussion requires the exchange of ideas and there is no exchanging of ideas today, it is just one side screaming, and the other side expected to listen in total agreement. Indeed I see the shaking of heads, the mumbling and murmurs of, I'm sorry, and meaningless gestures. There can be no discussion because one side has already decided all the answers. Any deviation from those answers will be construed as a concession. It will be just further evidence of the inequality! That's because the only way equality will be achieved is when the balance has shifted. Everyone wants equality until they have it. Whenever equality is achieved that is the point where injustice breeds. The feeling begins to fester, someone else has an advantage over us. It isn't fair. It makes no difference what is being measured, race, creed, religion, wealth, power, influence, talent or whatever, it makes no difference. Once you perceive yourself to be equal, you begin to look for the ways you are better, that's human nature. The one feeling oppressed, the one feeling slighted in some fashion, will find an excuse for that failure. It ain't my fault, that's also human nature. There can be no discussion about that. 

 The proof of that is in my writing of this at all. I have dared to mention this, to point something out. I'm quite certain I will be labeled for doing so. I will be told that I don't understand, I lack empathy, and in short, I'm just wrong. Further more I will be told I'm the problem. Why is that? Because I'm not agreeing with all the answers that's why. I am not assuming the blame for what is wrong in the world. I am not professing I can change all of that, by agreement. No, I'm not listening! Thing is, I hear you, I hear the cries the justice, I hear the cries, I just want to be treated like everyone else, but I'm not everyone else. I deserve special treatment! Let me tell you why. That is where the list begins, the search for the reason. I wrote a blog some years back concerning this same topic, long before all this unrest that we are experiencing today. I called those people looking for those reasons. BUTIMAHS. Pronounced, But I'm Ah. And we have all meet those folks, they are everywhere, in every walk of life. Whenever they want anything, they should receive that because, butimahh. Butimah veteran, police officer, emt, school teacher, handicapped, short, tall, skinny, fat, black, white, Hispanic, rich, poor, in a hurry, a senior citizen, younger, older, whatever. There is always a reason.
 Can you have a discussion with those folks? No, you can't. You may stop them from going to the head of the line but it won't be through reason, through discussion. Consider I'm in a hurry. Can you convince that person through calm and reasonable discussion that you are as equally in a hurry? No, their emergency is always going to come first! Yup, human nature. Consider also when you do capitulate, give in to the other person. What feeling does that give you? A feeling of superiority is the answer. Yes, I'm the better person. I could have treated you equally, but I allowed you to get special treatment. You got something a little extra. I allowed that. So you see I am the better person. You're happy because of that. Equality? Yes we all want to be treated equally, until we are. Don't you hate it when that happens?  Need proof of that? Read the United States Tax Code.  

something special

 There are times when I just sit here in the morning with nothing particular on my mind. I wonder what to write about. I get tired of commenting on the obvious. Like today there is talk of defunding the police departments. I'm assuming we are going on the honor system. I'm certain that'll work out. Joe Biden was asked if he supported defunding the police. He said no, I don't support defunding the police department BUT if they don't meet certain standards government funding would be withheld. At first I was puzzled by that answer, then I realized, he was talking about government money and government money is different from other money. You can withhold that without withholding funds! Okay, that's cleared up now. Nothing more to talk about. The weather is getting hot! That's what the weather man reports. I'm not really surprised, I've been around for a while and noticed something, it gets hot every summer. But, that's always a topic of conversation. Don't hear a lot about global warming these days though, guess Greta has been defunded.
 As I sat here just thinking I was looking around. You know how you do sometimes? You see those commercials on television about going nose blind, I get that. You also go blind to all the little things in your home. Now I'm one that has lots of things sitting around. Knick knacks is what I call them. Some are mementos, and some, some my wife just calls junk. No matter, I enjoy having them around. It's not like a decorator came in and selected certain items, no it's what they call an eclectic mix. It's a philosophy of life as well. Eclectic and eccentric are easily confused, I'm a little of both! But these items often go unnoticed for quite a period of time. They are just there. This morning I took notice of my chicken butt coaster. It's been on my desk for a while now. You could say the novelty has worn off a bit. But for whatever reason, whatever force acts upon us at such times, I noticed it once again, and smiled. It is gaining a permanent place. What I mean is a novelty that will retain that quality over years. At least that is my feeling. A while back I started a catalogue of my stuff. I admit to not having followed through as diligently as I should but we all get excited about things, then the interest fades a bit. The purpose of this catalogue is to explain to others what that stuff is, why it means something to me and hopefully make it more difficult for whoever has to clean out my stuff to just discard it. It's something that has always bothered me, personal items thrown in the trash. You see old photographs, old knick knacks and I've even seen military medals, trophies, and certificates in the trash. What an inglorious end to items that once held some special meaning, some sentiment, for someone at some time. Memories and mementos discarded. It's a sad thing. But I've wandered off a bit. What I'm trying to say this morning is simply, today I'm ignoring the news, ignoring all the gloom and doom, ignoring the weather reports and I'm just going to enjoy my chicken butt. It was hand crafted by my wife just for me. It's not just any old chicken butt, it's special.

                                                                                   

    

In agreement

 Aristotle said: Republics decline into Democracies and Democracies into despotism. I think most of us have heard that. But Aristotle also said : Masculine Republics give way to feminine democracies and feminine democracies give way to tyranny. The later statement describes America, in my opinion. There is no doubt we started out as a masculine republic. Yes, the men where in charge, then we went through the whole women's' right thing. Suffragettes and all that. We came to understand that, all men are created equal, should apply to women as well. A bit of a shift in ideology? It was in a legal sense, any married man already knew the women where really in charge. They always have been. And yes, it was a matter of legislation. Now women could belong to the legislative body. That happened in 1916 when Jeanette Rankin was elected to the house of representatives. Yes indeed, the feminine touch came to the house. The government remained a Republic. in fact, it is still a republic. Although you will hear the term democracy used extensively. There is a reason for that.
 What is the principal difference between a republic and a democracy? The limit on power. That is the purpose of the constitution, to limit the power of the government. It is also the reason the constitution has been and continues to be scrutinized, modified, and exercised! There is the talk of it being a living document and that is why it should be changed. But remember this, those wanting to change that living document are also the ones allowing the killing of babies! Yup, same bunch, same train of thought. Are we heading toward a feminine democracy, just as Aristotle proposes will happen? Well given the governments propensity for charity, for leniency, compassion, one could say it is displaying maternal instincts. The government will take care of you. Aristotle made other interesting observations regarding democracies. " In a Democracy the poor will have more power because there are more of them, and the will of the majority is always supreme."  Remember in a Republic, the constitution is the supreme authority. " A democracy is a government in the hands of men of low birth, no property, and vulgar employment. " Whereas that statement is quite uncomfortable, it holds a great deal of truth. If we are going to make the pragmatic decision, do you really want that as your leaders? Benjamin Franklin is credited with saying, " When the people find they can vote themselves money, that will herald the end of the republic. " Yes, that is obvious to anyone that examines the situation. Give a child a key to the piggy bank and you will soon understand the reasoning.
 Feminine democracies give way to tyranny. And just what is tyranny? We instantly think of a cruel and oppressive government. The government is mean! Yes, the government acts like our parents acted when we were children, sometimes they were mean! The reality is parents rule in a arbitrary way, same as a democracy. There is no central document, no contract between them and you enforceable by any outside authority. You know, no constitution guaranteeing your rights. Your rights are arbitrarily decided on an almost daily basis. Nope, majority rules and your parents are always in the majority. I'd suggest that today we are seeing Parents being feminized! There is no balance of power as it used to be. Dad was in charge right? No but he got to issue the final verdict anyway. Dad was the pragmatic Republic and Mom was the Democracy. But now, now the Republic is becoming femininized, the Democracy giving away the store, and the government being accused of becoming tyrannical.
 But just who is leveling the accusations? Those that would abolish the Constitution, those that oppose the rule of law. Those that insist we live in a democracy because they don't want the constraints of a constitution. Are they the poor, the uneducated, those of low birth and vulgar employment? The answer is no, it isn't them. It is just as it was in ancient Rome, the Senate wanting to assume power. They were at odds with the Emperor with no third party to arbitrate disputes. In our Republic we have three branches, you could say the Constitution itself is that third branch! It can only be overruled by the other two. Yes, the politicians. The Congress of the United States of America. The politicians are using the people in their fight for power. But be aware, once that power has been wrested from the hands of the people, tyranny will surely follow. The peoples' power resides in the constitution, in the rule of law, even when those laws aren't exactly what you would like them to be. Have the people found they can vote themselves money? Aristotle and Franklin both knew the deal. I agree with them both. 

Victims

 Aren't we all just victims of circumstance? We may overcome some circumstances, circumstance of our environment, but others we may never overcome. There are things that you can't change. Let's start with the obvious, the color of your skin. You are what you are. Regardless of any attempts to alter that, it will remain. Today we hear about gender identity, an attempt to change that, you can't. Your gender is a matter of circumstance. Yes it's true that science can manipulate that somewhat today through medical intervention but it's a very rare thing. My only point being in 99.99% of all births the sex of the child is a matter of circumstance. How one feels about that when growing up, I mean wanting to change that, I couldn't say. It sounds like a mental issue to me. Perhaps that too is just a matter of circumstance. The circumstances being right to allow that to ferment in your mind.
There are other circumstances as well. How about your height? You can't change that, if you are tall or short or something in-between. To a certain degree your weight is a matter of circumstances. And we have to admit some people are just more physically pleasing to look at. Some folks can sing, dance, play musical instruments, paint, write, any number of " natural " talents. All just a matter of circumstance. In all those cases the circumstance causing those actions was your birth! You had nothing to do with that, no control, no input in the matter, it was just a matter of circumstance beyond your control.
 Now your environment can be changed. You can change that through any number of avenues. We can change for the good or the bad. It is only the vehicle we choose to utilize that determines the results. What we call, the straight and narrow, is the most assured way of reaching the goal. A focused ,lazer like approach! That is how we become " successful. " At least what our society defines as successful. To a degree that is also a matter of circumstance as well. What society where you born into? There are many, many , sub-societies in our society. The choice is yours however, you may choose to leave the society you are in for something different. That doesn't mean that other society will accept you however. Another circumstance beyond our control.
 As humans our troubles begin when we blame others for our circumstance. It isn't out fault. That's an accurate perception, it isn't our fault. The blame has to be placed elsewhere. That is the default mode for humans when things aren't to their liking, blame someone else. We are born with that instinct, if that is what you want to call it, to shift the blame. Even toddlers will do that, it wasn't me, not my fault. We begin to attempt to alter the circumstance. Thing is, you can't change the past, you can't change circumstance. Circumstance relates to the action that occurred. Circumstances created that result. The best one can do is accept those circumstances. That is sometimes mistakenly construed as embracing our culture. In short, just because everyone else is doing it, I should too. I'm sure you heard that one from your mother, I know I sure did. Cultural identity? Isn't that just perpetuating circumstance? I'd say it was the set up anyway. So what do we do?
 Our actions will define our future. Some will become martyrs and some become perpetrators. The vast majority reside somewhere in between. I read somewhere that a martyr is a man who cares so much for something outside him, that he forgets his own personal life. A suicide is a man who cares so little for anything outside him, that he wants to see the end of everything. We glorify the martyr and mourn for the suicide, for what was lost to us, by circumstance. The martyr is held up as an example, someone to emulate, sometimes. At other times we just say, he was passionate. All of that is subject to circumstance. We can't change circumstance the only thing we can change is ourselves. When we learn to quit blaming others for our circumstance we will have taken the first step. I've heard it said, every journey begins with one step. Life is a long journey, get stepping is my advice.
   

A lesson learned

 Seventy six years ago today the Unites States and our allies stormed the beaches of Normandy. Thousands would die. Today there are 172.5 acres of graves overlooking Omaha beach. In those acres are buried nine thousand three hundred and eighty seven American soldiers, including two women. Members of the only all black, all female  Army unit to serve in WW2 Dolores Brown and Mary J Barlow fell on that day. The cemetery also contains a memorial garden, it is a memorial for the missing. Today it is unknown exactly how many American survivors of D-day are still with us. Sadly it is also unknown how many American soldiers lie in foreign soil, buried in mass graves, military cemeteries or private cemeteries. The cemetery at Normandy belongs to America. That land was conceded to us. Yes, in legal terms that land is called a concession. It is not a territory or a possession, it is a concession granted by the French to America! And justly so, there were exactly 176 French soldiers at Normandy that day, three remain today. The total at Normandy? Thirty two thousand eight hundred and seven killed.
 I'm not aware of any family members, friends or relatives of mine that served at Normandy. I know, and have known many WW2 veterans. In some way it could be said I'm a product of that war. I'm a baby boomer. My Dad came home from the war, having flown in B-24 bombers over enemy territory. Rarely did he speak of the destruction he witnessed when those bombs struck. Still I could see it in his eyes when asked, his response was always the same, a bowing of the head and I don't know. It wasn't something that had any control over him but it remained, as a memory he couldn't forget. He has been gone for thirty years now, at peace. For all those men and women that served I did compose a bit of poetry. I offer it now, on D-Day as a tribute to them all.

                                                                  In foreign soil
In foreign soil they lie in silence
their last words have been spoken
defending freedom was their cause
A quest that goes unbroken

They left their land
Their hearth and home
uncertain of return
expending their last breath
the light to discern

Crosses and stars
all in a row
at Normandy they lie
still serving, still waiting
even as time goes by

So today I light a candle
I will light the way
and in my heart
they will return today

return to join their brothers
all those that have fallen
all of those that spoke those words
and heard freedom calling

no matter the year
no matter the war
the gift will be the same
lives taken in payment
there memory remains.

Perhaps the verse, the stanza, the meter is incorrect. I am not a professional poet. I just write the words as they come to me, I do like things to rhyme, that's the best poetry to me. I can't fathom the fear, the anxiety and stress those men and women had to endure. To wade through surf pounding, loaded down with the trappings of a soldier while gunfire, bombs and shells exploded around you! To watch as the front of that transport opened and into the jaws of death itself. If we hadn't succeeded on that day, this day seventy six years ago, we wouldn't be here now. We'd all be speaking German or Japanese. But right prevailed, the cause was just. Our banner held high.
  I once had the honor, the privilege of walking with such men, I've shaken hands with them, laughed with them, and seen them age. The greatest generation? Yes indeed they were. I can only dream, write words of praise. and try to keep their memory alive. But the most important thing, the thing that matters the most is, the battle was won! I'm forever grateful that such men lived, just as George Patton suggested I should. Lesson learned General, lesson learned.

" It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. " George S Patton



  

where confusion begins

 There are things we start doing at a certain age, that age varies with everyone, that are signs of maturity. Strangely these signs of maturity are often labeled by others as just getting old. Things like not opening another box of cereal until the one is empty. Better use this up first, wouldn't want it to go stale. Or you might start breaking down those boxes before putting them in the trash can, they take up less room that way. Some years back I began saying no to another beer! Today I rarely ever drink a beer. There are all sorts of things like that. The little things that we start doing that we once just blew off. I don't leave trash in the car anymore, those wrappers or whatever go into the trash can when I get home. There are times when I clean out the car and put the trash in the can at Walmart! Well, you know I'm going to walk right past it anyway. And when I'm in the store shopping I'll put things back where I found them. Yes, I fold the clothes back up and put them back neatly. I will walk three aisles away to put something back when I change my mind. And yes, the shopping cart goes into the cart corral! Maturity? Or is it early onset dementia?  I call it being responsible. Assuming responsibility  is something I was often cajoled about in my youth, today I get looks for that. It is funny how that happens.
 We start planning ahead. That's weird as we know we have less time ahead than we used to. Then again maybe that's why we start planning ahead, to take advantage of every minute . It's like taking that trash out of the car at Walmart, gonna pass that trash can. It's sorta like when your Mom told you to always wear clean underwear, you know, in case you are in an accident. It's best to think and plan ahead. I find myself doing that when going out. Is there anyplace else I need to go? What route should I take? If I go this why the store is on the right side of the road. What's the right side? The one where you can just make a right turn into it! You know what I'm talking about. It's an annoyance when were you want to go is on the other side of the road. And parallel parking? That ain't happening. Oh I can do it alright, at least I could when my neck and body turned that far. Now I would need an adjustment afterwards. Thinking of driving I now clean the car completely of snow or ice, not settling for a hole big enough to peek out of. Yes I even clean off the plates so the police can see them. Now that's responsible.
 Something I've noticed in recent years are people assuming responsibility for what others are doing or not doing. They are taking on that burden. I've noticed they aren't really doing anything about it though, just complaining about it. They have begun telling me I should be doing it, for them. That's correct I should assume responsibility for what they are failing to do. It's like the whole face mask thing. I'm not supposed to do that for me, I'm doing that for you. That's being responsible. Either one of us could be being irresponsible by going out in public while infected! So instead of demanding responsibility from the one that is infected, the burden falls to the one that isn't. See how that works? Of course the narrative being, you don't know if you are infected or not. In that way no one is really responsible. Like asking the one child in the room who ate that candy. the response will be, it wasn't me. I don't know.
 You know I'm thinking it isn't maturity or responsibility, or even early onset dementia. I'm thinking it is wisdom. We have learned that it's all in the details. That's the reason we plan ahead, take the time to put things away, and clean up. It's also the reason we feel an obligation to share that wisdom with others. The time is running short and others, others have a lot to learn. Isn't that the way we feel about that? Why I remember when, and the wisdom just comes flowing out. You can't help it, you are so full of it, it just spills out. And that, that is where the confusion begins.  
   

Cultural id

 Is culture linked to the economy? That is to say does your income level determine moral actions? If you are among the poor are your choices predicated on income, most notably disposable income? Well I think there is a definite correlation there. The ones that can least afford the " extras " do appear to spend more on those extras. Do they do so as a means of temporary escape? All that is a matter for the psychologists to figure out. Cyndi Lauper said, girls just wanna have fun, but it applies to the majority of the people in the world. People just wanna have fun, it's the escape from the pressures of everyday responsibilities that we seek to avoid. The more money we have, the more fun we can have too.
 As far as the moral choices we make, they are certainly effected by our ability to pay. If your income is enough to pay all of bills but that is all, we begin to make adjustments. Yes we are all aware we should pay the bills first, but we begin to juggle them around in an attempt to get something a little extra. We will find a way to get those items, and those items are usually associated with a " sin " tax. Alcohol and tobacco products top the list. Street drugs are near the top of the list as well. With the legalization of pot and gambling a tax can be extracted from those activates as well. Are they immoral? Apparently not, as long as you can afford it! An awful lot comes down to what you can afford. Setting aside the moral issue those choices just add to the problem. Not only are the bills not getting paid, you are broke, and looking to place the blame. Seldom do we determine it's our fault. It's the same with the poor regardless of race, creed, or religion. It's the culture of the poor.
 So does income make the man, just as in the parable of clothes make the man? I think there is something to be said for that. Having sufficient income makes a big difference that can't be denied. So can we just finance our way out of this cultural divide? And in my opinion that is what we are witnessing, a cultural divide more so that straight out racism. There are some very wealthy hip-hop artists, rappers, and others that profit from maintaining that divide. What is the culture of the ghetto? Is it hard work, nose to the grindstone? Yes for some it is, and some work there way out of there. They are successful. For others it is merely to survive. Survive anyway they can. But I think the prevalent attitude is that they are stuck. No jobs, no opportunities, oppressed by the man. And who is the man? The ones with money. With money comes power. The poor feel powerless and to a great extent they are. Often they are treated just as useful tools, used when needed but otherwise neglected.
 Still I don't think we can just buy our way out. The cultural divide is far more complex than that.  We are talking about a persons identity. Our identity is a very personal thing. Will you change your identity in exchange for wealth? No I don't believe you will. The only thing that will change is the trappings. Having a great deal of money will certainly change your response to a situation. Where you once reacted with indifference, you may help. How many will, give the shirt off their back? Isn't that what we say when someone has very little to offer but gives anyway? I may not give the shirt of my back today, but if I were wealthy tomorrow I just might buy you one. Does that change my identity? No, it only changes my response. Hey, I can afford it. Just as in the story of clothes make the man appearance can help you succeed. Dress for success is what we say today. Will wealth ( dress ) change the culture? Yes I think it would, but it won't change the identity. Cultural identity is at the heart of it all. It sure is easier to be self righteous, making all the " right " choices, contributing to society and living a moral and upright existence when you can afford it. When you can't, adjustments are made. I'm talking about cultural ( id ) you know, like The wizard of Id.
   

Which Ben

 So yesterday it was reported that someone was trying to be me. Hmm, should I be flattered? No, someone is using my identity to try to sell something to others. I'm not certain how all that works but I changed my password. I've been hacked in the past, my information compromised for what I can only assume are nefarious purposes. I can understand why that happens, there are those that are thieves with no regard for anyone else. I do think this is the first time anyone posed as me. My first reaction was, why would someone want to do that? Then I thought, I don't blame them, if I were someone else I'd want to be me too. Well, unless the other Ben was younger and extremely wealthy, in that case I just might give it a try.
 This cyber world that we inhabit can be a confusing place. I rarely look at profile pages as I place little trust in what I read there. I've never looked at any of those dating sites but hear the pictures and people don't always match up. I've also heard that some folks, shall we say enhance, their personal information a bit. I'm certain that happens on Facebook as well. It's amazing how many experts you find on there. Something comes on the news, you make a comment, and three people with PhD's in that particular field respond almost immediately! I knew a fellow in the Navy that was like that. Whatever you had done, would do, or wish you had done, he had already done that. We called him Hero Hill. His last name was Hill. He certainly told of heroic events in his life. Well, some feel the need to exaggerate just a bit hoping to impress. I'm thinking that whoever is trying to use my identity hasn't read my profile page. There is nothing there I'm ashamed of but, it isn't a profile that would afford you much status. What you will find there is the truth. Even the picture is really me, and what's more, fairly recent. Well except for a while I was using a picture of a seagull. That was a sort of homage to my Dad. That's because when I was a teenager and he wasn't pleased with what I was doing, or not doing, he would say, " you're like a seagull, all you do is eat, *hit, and squawk! I have to agree that I do squawk a lot, although I prefer to think of it as informing others. Apparently I got someone's attention.
 This report came from Facebook and assured me they would look into it, checking fake Ben for appropriate use. I was informed they would " take me down " if I violated any of their policies. I'm just wondering how they will know which Ben is which? If it looks like a Ben, acts like a Ben, it could be a Ben! I don't remember having to provide answers to questions only I would know. We all have our secrets. Like I said, all very confusing. Now I'm hoping they don't take down the real Ben, don't take me out Zuckerberg. I haven't been placed in Facebook jail at any time, guess I've eluded that. Well all I can do is tell everyone I'm not trying to sell anyone anything, although everyone is free to give me money if they want to. Hey, it's the only gracious thing to do, right? Wouldn't want to offend anyone. I wonder too, if this fake Ben is wandering around the dark web. I've heard of that mysterious world populated with some pretty seedy characters. We all want to go places we are told are off limits. Isn't that why the girls are drawn to the " bad boys? "  Yeah, you can find me on the dark web, as I roll that pack of cigarettes in the sleeve of my tee shirt. I'm like a shadow, dark, quiet, and can disappear in an instant. Who is fake ben? I'll never know. Don't really care as long as he goes away. The big question is; which Ben?