Musings of the Chronologically Challenged™ Fourth Generation
Sunday, August 31, 2003
September Blogroll Coming Soon!
Everyone knows by now that I got my computer education on the Isle of Crete. Everyone who reads my meager meanderings, even occasionally, knows that my Blogroll disappeared some months back and is still lost in space somewhere until I can engage a hired geek. Sporadic readers will also tell you that Indigo Insights keeps a pseudo running blogroll for that purpose. Since the first of August blogroll was published, I've added some new sites. One of these, Alphecca, I just found a few days ago and added to my running, hidden blogroll. When I visited Alphecca late tonight, lo and behold, that fine writer, Jeff Soyer, had written the most gracious introduction to Indigo Insights, and had even blogrolled me. He is a silver-tongued devil, that Jeff, and I thank him. OK, so he called my blog Indigo Sights -- he meant well!!! LOL He may be a bit psychic too, since he mentioned that there was no email addy listed and I had already typed in the addy on the new blogroll, which I'll try to get up right after midnight, so it'll be on September 1st.
Excerpt from Stars 'n Stripes
The war in Iraq, and the war on terrorism, are not over yet. We still have many battles to be fought and many very brave soldiers may still lose their lives. We must take the time to say thanks to these brave people that are putting their lives on hold back home, and risking their lives, to give us the chance to live how we do. America is the greatest country on God's Green Earth, but we cannont forget how we became so great in the first place. Many great patriots before us lost their own lives because they believed in something greater than themselves. Please, take the time this Labor Day weekend to say thank you to any man or woman you see in uniform, and remember that as you enjoy your peaceful backyard bbq, that some poor soldier in uniform overseas is still laboring away to make you safe.
God Bless America
Saturday, August 30, 2003
Worth a Look
One of the nicest pet stories I've ever seen in the Blogosphere was linked yesterday by Jay Solo. This was once when following the link was very rewarding. If you're an animal lover, especially of cats, go to Jeff Soyer's Alpheccalink and read About Our Pets. This special essay will help dull the memory of the Ravenwood's Universe piece, in case you saw that and are still as horrified by it as I am.
Thanks to Ocean Guy for linking Allah Is In the House - a new blog that you really must see to appreciate. Hysterical!!!
Two men meet on the street. One asks the other: "Hi, how are you?"
The other replies: "I'm fine, thanks."
"And how's your son? Is he still unemployed?"
"Yes, he is. But he is meditating now."
"Meditating? What's that?"
"I don't know. But it's better than sitting around and doing nothing!"
[In the Mail Box from Don of Swansboro, NC]
More Great Quotes from the Denny Wilson archives
Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.
- Douglas Casey, Classmate of W. J. Clinton at Georgetown U.
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.
- P.J. O'Rourke, Civil Libertarian
Government is the great fiction, through which everybody endeavors to live at the expense of everybody else.
- Frederic Bastiat, French Economist(1801-1850)
Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.
- Ronald Reagan
If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it's free.
- P.J. O'Rourke
Friday, August 29, 2003
>^..^< Denny got ahold of another memo from Barbra. Did you see it yesterday?
>^..^< Betsy directs us to "The Five Commandments" - a must-read.
>^..^< Thanks goodness Chuck's back. Withdrawals were driving me to re-read his Tales.
Ark Building in 2003
The Lord came to Noah, this time in America, in the year 2003. Earth was wicked and overpopulated. The Lord instructed Noah to build another Ark and save two of every living thing along with a few good humans. "Here's the blueprint," said the Lord. "Hurry - in six months I start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights."
Six months later the rain started. The Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his flooded yard -- and no Ark. "Noah," He roared, "where is the Ark?"
"Forgive me, Lord," begged Noah. "Things have changed. I needed a building permit. I've been arguing with the inspector about the need for a sprinkler system. My neighbors claim that I have violated the neighborhood zoning laws by building the Ark in my yard and the height limitation being exceeded. We had to go to the Development Appeal Board for a decision."
"Then Transportation Department and the Department of Highways wanted a bond posted for the future costs of moving power and other overhead obstructions, to clear the passage for the Ark's move to the sea. I argued the sea would be coming to us, but they would hear nothing of this."
"Getting the wood was another problem. There's a ban on cutting local trees in order to save the spotted owl. I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the owls. No go! I gathered the animals, but then I got sued by an animal rights group. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will. As well, they argued the accommodation was too restrictive and it was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in so confined a space."
"Environment Protection Agency decided that I could not build the Ark without filing an environmental impact statement on your proposed flood. I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the Human Rights Commission on how many minorities I'm supposed to hire for my building crew. The trades union wants me to hire only Union tradespeople with Ark building experience."
"To make matters worse, Immigration Service and the Internal Revenue Service seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country illegally as well as with endangered species."
"So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least ten years to finish this Ark."
Suddenly the skies cleared and the sun began to shine. A rainbow stretched across the sky. Noah looked up in wonder. "You mean you're not going to destroy the world?" he asked.
"No," sayeth the Lord. "Your Government beat me to it ."
Thursday, August 28, 2003
The following ad is reported to have appeared in the personals of The AtlantaJournal-Constitution newspaper: Only the Grouchy Old Cripple knows for sure!
SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant.
I'm a very good looking girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. Rub me the right way and watch me respond. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Kiss me and I'm yours. Call (404) 875-6420 and ask for Daisy.
Over 15,000 men found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society about an 8 week-old black Labrador retriever.
If human beings are perceived as potentials rather than problems, as possessing strengths instead of weaknesses, as unlimited rather that dull and unresponsive, then they thrive and grow to their capabilities. - Barbara Bush
Live all you can; it's a mistake not to. It doesn't so much matter what you do in particular, so long as you have your life. If you haven't had that, what have you had? -Henry James
As long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there to hold him down, so it means you cannot soar as you otherwise might. -Marian Anderson
Sympathy is never wasted except when you give it to yourself. -John W. Raper
The self is not something that one finds. It is something that one creates. -Thomas Szasz
>^..^< This guy cracks me up. But, if I could get an appointment with him, he could fix it, since he's a practicing physician.
>^..^< Keep this under your hat: Tuesday is her birthday!!!
>^..^< MIA - Memorial services to be announced after Labor Day.
IS MY TIME UP?
A middle aged woman had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital. While on the operating table she had a near death experience. Seeing God she asked "Is my time up?" God said, "No, you have another 43 years, 2 months and 8 days to live."
Upon recovery, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and have a facelift, liposuction, and a tummy tuck. She even had someone come in and change her hair color.
Since she had so much more time to live, she figured she might as well make the most of it. After her last operation, she was released from the hospital.
While crossing the street on her way home, she was killed by an ambulance. Arriving in front of God, she demanded, "I thought you said I had another 40 years? Why didn't you pull me from out of the path of the ambulance?"
God replied, "I didn't recognize you."
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Pass the Butter, Please
Several years ago it was my pleasure to work with a woman who authored scientific text books. We had lunch together frequently, and although she was truly rotund with extra pounds, she never missed butter with her meals. Butter was categorized as "killer food" in the 80s, and I, of course, obeyed my doctor! Vera, however, enjoyed butter in gigantic portions and poo-poo'ed my reluctance to consume it. She told me her scientific background convinced her that real butter had nutrients absent in margarine, and was an excellent source of Vitamin E. In fact, margarine was downright unhealthy! She could really yada, yada, yada on the blessings of butter. She's 88 now and still enjoying the gift from cows. When I received the following email, I thought "Vera, you are validated!!" (maybe) There was no citation, reference, or any hint of the origin of the "buttery" email, but if authentic, it would seem the pendulum has swung back. It's been my observation that a lot of medical holy writ seems to be reevaluated about every couple of decades. Consider:
DID YOU KNOW... in the matter of Butter v. Margarine:
* Both have the same amount of calories. Butter is slightly higher in saturated fats at 8 grams compared to 5 grams for margarine.
* Eating margarine can increase heart disease in women by 53% over eating the same amount of butter according to a recent Harvard Medical Study.
* Eating butter increases the absorption of many other nutrients in other foods.
* Butter has many nutritional benefits where margarine has a few only because they are added.
* Butter tastes much better than margarine and it can enhance the flavors of other foods.
* Butter has been around for centuries while margarine has been around for less then 100 years.
Now for Margarine...
* Very high in Trans Fatty Acids.
* Triple risk of Coronary Heart Disease.
* Increases total and LDL cholesterol (this is the bad cholesterol).
* Lowers HDL cholesterol and this is the good one.
* Increases the risk of cancer by up to five fold.
* Lowers quality of breast milk.
* Decreases immune response.
* Decreases insulin response.
And here is the most disturbing fact....
* Margarine is but ONE MOLECULE from being PLASTIC... (This fact alone was enough to have the author avoiding margarine for life and anything else that is hydrogenated, i.e., hydrogen is added changing the molecular structure of the food )
You can try this yourself: Purchase a tub of margarine and leave it in your garage or a shaded area. Within a couple of days you will note a couple of things, #1, no flies, not even those pesky fruit flies, will go near it (that should tell you something) and #2, it does not rot, or smell differently. Because it has no nutritional value, nothing will grow on it, even those teeny weeny microorganisms will not a find a home to grow. Why? Because it is nearly plastic.
Would you melt your Tupperware and spread that on your toast?
>^..^< From Woo-Woo Land, here's the world's weirdest clock.
>^..^< Remember the Merck Manual? Well, it's online now. Sort of.
>^..^< In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. ~ Coco Chanel
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Thou Shalt Not
The Mulatto Advocate has posted his thoughts on the Ten Commandments and the Constitution. Some will disagree, but I don't see how. With Constitutional citations, it's Ipso Facto.
Quotations to Ponder
Mahatma Gandhi on Prayer
~ Let everyone try and find that as a result of daily prayer he adds something new to his life, something with which nothing can be compared.
~ Prayer is not an old woman's idle amusement. Properly understood and applied, it is the most potent instrument of action.
~ Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.
~ Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience. -George Washington
~ People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within. -Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
Great Quotes from the Denny Wilson archives
~ Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner. -James Bovard, Civil Libertarian
~ I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the fact -Will Rogers
~ No man's life, liberty, or property are safe while the legislature is in session. -Mark Twain
And this favorite of the day from TacJammer:
The activist base of the Democratic Party today strikes me as demonstrably more paranoid and irrational about George Bush than even the most "obsessed" of my conservative brethren ever were [about Bill Clinton]. And to Bush's credit, he's not biting his lip and whining about it. ~Jonah Goldberg
One particular four-year-old prayed, "And forgive us our trash baskets as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets."
Monday, August 25, 2003
MAY THE FLEAS OF A THOUSAND AFGHAN CAMELS INFEST THE CROTCH OF THE PERSON WHO SCREWED UP MY MONITOR FOR FOUR DAYS AND MAY THEIR ARMS BE TOO SHORT TO SCRATCH
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Mail Box - Karl, Hubert, NC
This came to me in email from a friend. It should be shared in a blog, I thought, so I responded back to Karl and asked if he had a source. Answer: No. Only the friend who had sent it to him, whom he contacted and was told it had not been validated. After researching, I came up with nothing. No reference anywhere that I could find. With that disclaimer, whether authentic or not, here is a warm and fuzzy vignette.
I sat in my seat of the Boeing 767 waiting for everyone to hurry and stow their carry-ons and grab a seat so we could start what was sure to be a long, uneventful flight home. With the huge capacity and slow moving people taking their time to stuff luggage far too big for the overhead and never paying much attention to holding up the growing line behind them, I simply shook my head knowing that this flight was not starting out very well.
I was anxious to get home to see my loved ones so I was focused on "my" issues and just felt like standing up and yelling for some of these clowns to get their act together. I knew I couldn't say a word so I just thumbed thru the "Sky Mall" magazine from the seat pocket in front of me. You know it's really getting rough when you resort to the over priced, useless sky mall garbage to break the monotony.
With everyone finally seated, we just sat there with the cabin door open and no one in any hurry to get us going, although we were well past the scheduled take off time. No wonder the airline industry is in trouble I told myself. Just then, the attendant came on the intercom to inform us that we were being delayed. The entire plane let out a collective groan. She resumed speaking to say "We are holding the aircraft for some very special people who are on their way to the plane and the delay shouldn't be more than 5 minutes.
The word came after waiting six times as long as we were promised that "I" was finally going to be on my way home. Why the hoopla over "these" folks? I was expecting some celebrity or sport figure to be the reason for the hold up... Just get their butts in a seat and lets hit the gas I thought.
The attendant came back on the speaker to announce in a loud and excited voice that we were being joined by several U. S. Marines returning home from Iraq!! Just as they walked on board, the entire plane erupted into applause. The men were a bit taken by surprise by the 340 people cheering for them as they searched for their seats. They were having their hands shook and touched by almost everyone who was within an arm's distance of them as they passed down the aisle. One elderly woman kissed the hand of one of the Marines as he passed by her. The applause, whistles and cheering didn't stop for a long time.
When we were finally airborne, "I" was not the only civilian checking his conscience as to the delays in "me" getting home, finding my easy chair, a cold beverage and the remote in my hand. These men had done for all of us and I had been complaining silently about "me" and "my" issues. I took for granted the everyday freedoms I enjoy and the conveniences of the American way of life. I took for granted that others paid the price for my ability to moan and complain about a few minutes delay to "me". Those Heroes were going home to their loved ones.
I attempted to get my selfish outlook back in order, and minutes before we landed I suggested to the attendant that she announce over the speaker a request for everyone to remain in their seats until our heroes were allowed to gather their things and be first off the plane. The cheers and applause continued until the last Marine stepped off and we all rose to go about our too often taken for granted everyday freedoms...
I felt proud of them. I felt it an honor and a privilege to be among the first to welcome them home and say Thank You for a job well done.
I vowed that I will never forget that flight nor the lesson learned. I can't say it enough, THANK YOU to those Veterans and active servicemen and women who may read this and a prayer for those who cannot because they are no longer with us.
PLEASE GOD, BLESS AMERICA AND TO OUR RETURNING HEROES, WELCOME HOME AND THANKS FOR A JOB WELL DONE.
Great Quotes from the Denny Wilson archives
~~ Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself. --Mark Twain
~~ We contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.
~~ A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul. --George Bernard Shaw
A Sunday school class was studying the Ten Commandments. They were ready to discuss the last one. The teacher asked if anyone could tell her what it was. Susie raised her hand, stood tall, and quoted, "Thou shall not take the covers off the neighbor's wife."
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
McGehee calls it "A Politically Incorrect Blog Title for a Politically Incorrect Blog", but
The Mulatto Advocate has an interesting rant under The Equality Equation. He warms up with:
"There are those who would try to scare folks into thinking that this will somehow spell doom for their chances to get decent jobs, homes and an education, but in reality that's all a smokescreen. What they are really interested in protecting is not the interests of people of color, but their own cushy jobs in the race pimping business. There is no good reason for the state to collect racial data. The race pimps and their buddies in the Democratic Party have created a new plantation; one that folks are all too happy to stay on because they believe their needs are being met. As long as a few jobs and spots in school are set aside, everybody's happy. What a joke."
And concludes with a quote from Booker T. Washington, that proves Washington was a prophet:
"There is a class of colored people who make a business of keeping the troubles, the wrongs and the hardships of the Negro race before the public... Having learned that they are able to make a living out of their troubles, they have grown into the settled habit of advertising their wrongs -- partly because they want sympathy and partly because it pays. Some of these people do not want the Negro to lose his grievances, because they do not want to lose their jobs."
Catch him while you can. The Mulattoboy (as his blog is called) is an endangered species in California. Yes, he's from California!!!
Acidman posted this yesterday. Please read the whole thing and follow-up if you feel the need. I did, because it's just plain anti-American and I wish millions would respond to our Postal Service.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Today's North State Blogs
Check 'em out. Follow the links and get the whole thing! (just like a banana split!)
Via Betsy's Page
This is almost as smarmy as Edwards himself. Probably a moot point anyhow, since it seems he's toast in NC.
Yeah. When pigs fly!
Via Ed Cone
"I used to think that furniture was too bulky and heavy to import in large quantities. Wrong. The US furniture industry is getting creamed."
IN THE MAIL BOX
Don't miss Fred Reed's essay from yesterday: The Two Cultures. It's inconceivable to me how anyone could fail to see the good, common sense of this piece, regardless of political affiliation.
Monday, August 18, 2003
Out! Out, Damn Doldrums. Out, I Say!
Some of my Non-Blogger friends and readers do not always follow the links. Therefore, again I purloin from Misha, with profuse thanks to him and LC Ironbear. This is too priceless! It brought me out of my funky doldrums laughing. (for more background, see Misha's lead-in of August 17.)
"Mouldering Away in Anti-Semiteville"
Sorry 'bout this one, Jimmy Buffet, but when LC Ironbear sends us a masterpiece like this one, we just have to share.
Take it away, LC "Buffet" Ironbear:
"Was heading to Starbucks
When I chanced on some dumb clucks
At the "Saint" Rachel Corrie Day hullabaloo
See the nine of them whitter
Blase passerby's ignoring their chitter
Spitting on placards of flattened St.Corrie 'sans clue.
And now she's mouldering away in Anti-Semiteville.
Searching for her lost semblance of clue -
And some people say that she's a Martyr today -
But I suspect...
She's just stuck to some 'Cat driver's shoe.
They can't see the reasons...
They've been dwindling all season
To less than a dozen at the Shrine of St.Corrie 2D
Oh now she's a real doozie -
A flat idiotarian floozie
And why people keep snickering they just can't quite see
For now she's mouldering away in Anti-Semiteville.
A wonderin' why she's spread out thinner than glue -
And some people claim that there's Zionism to blame...
But I think that we know...
She's just stuck to some 'Cat driver's shoe.
Well she charged under a tractor
Couldn't be seen - and it whacked her
Woke up in Hell screaming this just isn't fair!
Now she's spread flat on the griddle
Just a bit thin in the middle....
Sign reads: St. Rachel tortillas - line starts over there.
And now she's sizzling away in Anti-Semiteville.
Searching for her lost semblance of clue -
And some people say that she's a Martyr today -
But I suspect...
She's being served up with refries down on Level Two.
And some people still claim there's Zionism to blame...
But I think we all know...
'Twas just her own damned fault."
Posted by Emperor Misha I at 07:43 AM | Comments (15) | Trackback (0)
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Jay Solo says it's his turn to ask for your list! He wants to know what actor you'd like to see be governor of your state. To quote Jay:
"I am looking for: Top 10 Actors You Would Like To See Be Governor
"That's governor of your state or any state, residency not being an issue.Send me between one and ten choices. I am going to use the RWN standard, in which number of mentions determines order of the results. Feel free to give reasons, comments, or hypothetical platforms, and I might publish the most entertaining ones. Send to jaysolo [at] elhide [dot] com through Sunday, August 17. I'll publish the results on Monday or Tuesday."
>^..^< Without discipline, there's no life at all. ~ Katharine Hepburn [who would have been a great governor]
>^..^< Kid's Prayer -- 3-year old: "Our Father, Who does art in heaven, Harold is his name. Amen."
>^..^< You are not stuck where you are unless you decide to be. ~ Dr. Wayne Dyer
>^..^< Hip-Hop Holds Blacks Back ~ John H. McWhorter
Monday, August 11, 2003
DOWNWIND FROM FLOWERS
By Lee Paton
Several years ago in Seattle, Washington, there lived a 52-year-old Tibetan refugee. "Tenzin," as I will call him, was diagnosed with one of the more curable forms of lymphoma. He was admitted to the hospital and received his first dose of chemotherapy. But during the treatment, this usually gentle man became extremely angry and upset. He pulled the IV out of his arm and refused to cooperate. He shouted at the nurses and became argumentative with everyone who came near him. The doctors and nurses were baffled.
Then Tenzin's wife spoke to the hospital staff. She told them Tenzin had been held as a political prisoner by the Chinese for 17 years. They killed his first wife and repeatedly tortured and brutalized him throughout his imprisonment. She told them that the hospital rules and regulations, coupled with the chemotherapy treatments, gave Tenzin horrible flashbacks of what he had suffered at the hands of the Chinese. "I know you mean to help him," she said, "but he feels tortured by your treatments. They are causing him to feel hatred inside - just like he felt toward the Chinese. He would rather die than have to live with the hatred he is now feeling. And, according to our belief, it is very bad to have hatred in your heart at the time of death. He needs to be able to pray and cleanse his heart."
So the doctors discharged Tenzin and asked the hospice team to visit him in his home. I was the hospice nurse assigned to his care. I called a local representative from Amnesty International for advice. He told me that the only way to heal the damage from torture is to "talk it through."
"This person has lost his trust in humanity and feels hope is impossible," the man said. "If you are to help him, you must find a way to give him hope." But when I encouraged Tenzin to talk about his experiences, he held up his hand and stopped me. He said, "I must learn to love again if I am to heal my soul. Your job is not to ask me questions.Your job is to teach me to love again." I took a deep breath.
I asked him, "So, how can I help you love again?" Tenzin immediately replied, "Sit down, drink my tea and eat my cookies." Tibetan tea is strong black tea laced with yak butter and salt. It isn't easy to drink! But that is what I did. For several weeks, Tenzin, his wife, and I sat together, drinking tea. We also worked with his doctors to find ways to treat his physical pain. But it was his spiritual pain that seemed to be lessening.
Each time I arrived, Tenzin was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reciting prayers from his books. As time went on, he and his wife hung more and more colorful "thankas," Tibetan Buddhist banners, on the walls. The room was fast becoming a beautiful, religious shrine. When the spring came, I asked Tenzin what Tibetans do when they are ill in the spring.
He smiled brightly and said, "We sit downwind from flowers."
I thought he must be speaking poetically. But Tenzin's words were quite literal. He told me Tibetans sit downwind so they can be dusted with the new blossoms' pollen that floats on the spring breeze. They feel this new pollen is strong medicine. At first, finding enough blossoms seemed a bit daunting. Then, one of my friends suggested that Tenzin visit some of the local flower nurseries.
I called the manager of one of the nurseries and explained the situation. The manager's initial response was: "You want to do what?" But when I explained the request, the manager agreed. So, the next weekend, I picked up Tenzin and his wife with their provisions for the afternoon: black tea, butter, salt, cups, cookies, prayer beads and prayer books. I dropped them off at the nursery and assured them I would return at 5:00.
The following weekend, Tenzin and his wife visited another nursery. The third weekend, they went to yet another nursery. The fourth week, I began to get calls from the nurseries inviting Tenzin and his wife to come again. One of the managers said, "We've got a new shipment of nicotiana coming in and some wonderful fuchsias and oh, yes! Some great daphne. I know they would love the scent of that daphne! And I almost forgot! We have some new lawn furniture that Tenzin and his wife might enjoy."
Later that day, I got a call from the second nursery saying that they had colorful wind socks that would help Tenzin predict where the wind was blowing.
Pretty soon, the nurseries were competing for Tenzin's visits. People began to know and care about the Tibetan couple. The nursery employees started setting out the lawn furniture in the direction of the wind. Others would bring out fresh hot water for their tea. Some of the regular customers would leave their wagons of flowers near the two of them. It seemed that a community was growing around Tenzin and his wife.
At the end of the summer, Tenzin returned to his doctor for another CT scan to determine the extent of the spread of the cancer. But the doctor could find no evidence of cancer at all. He was dumbfounded. He told Tenzin that he just couldn't explain it.
Tenzin lifted his finger and said...
"I know why the cancer has gone away. It could no longer live in a body that is filled with love. When I began to feel all the compassion from the hospice people, from the nursery employees, and all those people who wanted to know about me, I started to change inside. Now, I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to heal in this way. Doctor, please don't think that your medicine is the only cure. Sometimes compassion can cure cancer, as well."
Sunday, August 10, 2003
Summer vacation time has been so busy, I have relied too much (I thought) on pasting material on my weblog. But response to the email you sent me has been very enthusiastic and gratifying. Guess the lesson learned is sort of like "if you build it, they will come" -- or in this case, if you paste it AND IT'S GOOD, they'll visit. A couple of nice guys from the Blogosphere, here and here, picked this up and more people read it than otherwise would have. Following are some of the comments, as I promised you:
Your Attention Please
Go read Indigo. Now.
Be sure not to miss this one in particular, but there's more than that worth checking out.
Posted by McGehee
August 09, 2003 go read this post
And I mean right now.
If the Blogger bug screws up the link, just scroll down to "Mailbox." You won't regret it.
Posted by Acidman @ 09:37 PM •
Comment: I read it and I applaud her. My husband was in the Gulf War, he was in Somalia when the Rangers were shot down, he was in the Vietnam War and I know exactly how this lady feels.
Posted by Debbi at August 9, 2003 09:58 PM
Comment: That was truly awesome. My son-in-law is leaving for Iraq supposedly this Wednesday, leaving our daughter and two baby sons for perhaps up to a year. He will be missing their 3rd Anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas, both sons' birthdays, his birthday, and our daughter's birthday. However, he is proud to go, it is what he says he has trained for, and he knows that it is what he does for a living. His parents, who live in upstate New York, hold the same sentiments that those two dimwits voiced. So he turns to us for support and encouragement because both my husband and I come from long military backgrounds. I hope people realize that, for every military unit, squadron, ship, etc., coming back, others are taking their place; and that it is not over yet.
Posted by Laura at August 9, 2003 10:00 PM
Comment: Thank you for pointing that out, Rob. Wow.
Posted by stevie at August 9, 2003 10:34 PM
Posted by Pedro the Ignorant at August 9, 2003 10:34 PM
Comment: Thanks for the scoop, Indigo and Acidman. Great story.
Posted by asm at August 10, 2003 06:57 AM
Some of the artists from the 60's are re-releasing their hits with new lyrics to accommodate us . . . good news, for those feeling a little older and missing those great old tunes.
~~ Herman's Hermits - "Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Walker"
~~ The Bee Gees - "How Can You Mend A Broken Hip"
~~ The Temptations - "Papa's Got A Kidney Stone"
~~ Ringo Starr - "I Get By With A Little Help From Depends"
~~ Marvin Gaye - "I Heard It Through The Grape Nuts"
~~ Procol Harem - "A Whiter Shade Of Hair"
~~ Johnny Nash - "I Can't See Clearly Now"
~~ Leo Sayer - "You Make Me Feel Like Napping"
~~ ABBA - "Denture Queen"
~~ Paul Simon - "Fifty Ways To Lose Your Liver"
~~ Roberta Flack - "The First Time I Ever Forgot Your Face"
~~ Commodores - "Once, Twice, Three Times To The Bathroom"
~~ Rolling Stones - "You Can't Always Pee When You Want"
~~ Bobby Darin - "Splish, Splash, I Was Havin' A Flash"
Saturday, August 09, 2003
MAIL BOX - from Ignaty, a/n Atlanta
It Needs To Be Said
by Lori Kimble
It could have been any night of the week, as I sat in one of those loud and casual steak houses that are cropping up all over the country. You know the type - a bucket of peanuts on the table, shells littering the floor, and a bunch of perky college kids racing around with longneck beers and sizzling platters. Taking a sip of my iced tea, I studied the crowd over the rim of my glass. I let my gaze linger on a few of the tables next to me, where several uniformed military members were enjoying their meals.
Smiling sadly, I glanced across my booth to the empty seat where my husband usually sat. Had it only been a few weeks since we had sat at this very table talking about his upcoming deployment to the Middle East? He made me promise to come back to this restaurant once a month, sit in our booth, and treat myself to a nice dinner. He told me that he would treasure the thought of me there eating a steak and thinking about him until he came home. I fingered the little flag pin I wear on my jacket and wondered where at that moment he was. Was he safe and warm? Was his cold any better? Were any of my letters getting to him?
As I pondered all of these things, shrill feminine voices from the next booth broke into my thoughts.
"I don't know what Bush is thinking invading Iraq. Didn't he learn anything from his father's mistakes? He is an idiot anyway, I can't believe he is even in office. You know he stole the election."
I cut into my steak and tried not to listen as they began an endless tirade of running down our president. I thought about the last night I was with my husband as he prepared to deploy. He had just returned from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots and the image of his standing in our kitchen, packing his gas mask still gave me chills.
Once again their voices invaded my thoughts.
"It is all about oil, you know. Our military will go in and rape and pillage and steal all the oil they can in the name of freedom. I wonder how many innocent lives our soldiers will take without a thought? It is just pure greed."
My chest tightened and I stared at my wedding ring. I could picture how handsome my husband was in his mess dress the day he slipped it on my finger. I wondered what he was wearing at that moment. He probably had on his desert uniform, affectionately dubbed coffee stains, over the top of which he wore a heavy bulletproof vest.
"We should just leave Iraq alone. I don't think they are hiding any weapons. I think it is all a ploy to increase the president's popularity and pad the budget of our military at the expense of social security and education. We are just asking for another 9-11 and I can't say when it happens again that we didn't deserve it."
Their words brought to mind the war protesters I had watched gathering outside our base. Did no one appreciate the sacrifice of brave men and women who leave their homes and family to ensure our freedom? I glimpsed at the tables around me and saw the faces of some of those courageous men, looking sad as they listened to the ladies talk.
"Well, I for one, think it is a travesty to invade Iraq and I am certainly sick of our tax dollars going to train the professional baby killers we call a military."
Professional baby killers? As I thought about what a wonderful father my husband is and wondered how long it would be before he was able to see his children again, indignation rose up within me. Normally reserved, pride in my husband gave me a boldness I had never known. Tonight, one voice would cry out on behalf of the military. One shy woman would stand and let her pride in our troops be known.
I made my way to their table, placed my palms flat on it and lowered myself to be eye level with them. Smiling I said, "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I am sitting over here trying to enjoy my dinner alone. Do you know why I am alone? Because my husband, whom I love dearly, is halfway across the world defending your right to say rotten things about him. You have the right to your opinion, and what you think is none of my business, but what you say in my hearing is and I will not sit by and listen to you run down my country, my president, my husband, and all these other fine men and women in here who put their lives on the line to give you the freedom to complain. Freedom is expensive ladies. Don't let your actions cheapen it."
I must have been louder than I meant to be, because about that time the manager came over and asked if everything was all right. "Yes, thank you." I replied and then turned back to the ladies, "Enjoy the rest of your meal."
To my surprise, as I sat down to finish my steak, a round of applause broke out in the restaurant. Not long after the ladies picked up their check and scurried away, the manager brought me a huge helping of apple cobbler and ice cream, compliments of the table to my left. He told me that the ladies had tried to pay for my dinner, but someone had beaten them to it. When I asked who he said the couple had already left, but that the man had mentioned he was a WWII vet and wanted to take care of the wife of one of our boys. I turned to thank the soldiers for the cobbler, but they wouldn't hear a word of it, retorting, "Thank you. You said what we wanted to say but aren't allowed."
As I drove home that night, for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel quite so alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of all the patrons who had stopped by my table to tell me they too were proud of my husband and that he would be in their prayers. I knew their flags would fly a little higher the next day. Perhaps they would look for tangible ways to show their pride in our country and our troops, and maybe, just maybe, the two ladies sitting at that table next to me would pause for a minute to appreciate all the freedom this great country offers and what it costs to maintain.
As for me, I had learned that one voice can make a difference. Maybe the next time protesters gather outside the gates of the base where I live, I will proudly stand across the street with a sign of my own. A sign that says "Thank you!"
[Lori Kimble is a 31 year old teacher and proud military wife. She is a California native currently living in Alabama.]
Friday, August 08, 2003
My #1 Daughter emailed an outstanding little piece to me this week. It reminded me of something an older friend told me a long time ago: "Education starts early and continues throughout life. Wisdom comes later." Here's what she sent, along with my reply.
The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready.
As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window.
"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.
"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room .... just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged... it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it .
"It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up.
"I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed, recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.
"Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for this time in my life."
Old age is like a bank account ... you withdraw from what you've put in .. So, my advice would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories . Thank you for your part in filling my Memory Bank. I am still depositing.
Remember the Five Simple Rules to be Happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
Dear Daughter -
Thanks for the email. This one is particularly nice and speaks to several of my personal tenets. Thanks for this very meaningful reminder of what life is really about. Wouldn't it be a wonderful world if EVERYONE lived by the Five Rules?
Thursday, August 07, 2003
If you dropped in to see more about Swartzenegger, Kobe Bryant, gay bishops, or quotes from politicians of both parties hurling insults, may as well move on. There'll be nothing to see here.
Cannibals in the Mail Box
A plane carrying news anchor Dan Rather, the Reverend Jesse Jackson, NPR reporter Cokie Roberts, and a Navy SEAL crashed in the jungle. After burying the pilot who was killed in the crash, the group hiked through the jungle trying to find civilization. Suddenly, they were captured by cannibals.
They were tied up, led to the cannibal's village, and brought before the chief. The chief said, "I am familiar with your western custom of granting the condemned a last wish. Before we kill and eat you, do you have any last requests?"
Rather said, "Well, I'm a Texan; so I'd like one last bowlful of hot, spicy chili." The chief nodded to an underling, who left and returned with the chili. Rather ate it all and said, "Now I can die content."
Jackson said, "You know, the thing in this life I am proudest of is my work on behalf of the poor and oppressed. So before I go, I want to sing
"We Shall Overcome" one last time." The chief said, "Go right ahead, we're listening." Jackson sang the song, and then said, "Now I can die in peace."
Roberts said, "I'm a reporter to the end. I want to take out my tape recorder and describe the scene here and what's about to happen. Maybe someday someone will hear it and know that I was on the job til the end." The chief directed an aide to hand over the tape recorder, and Roberts dictated some comments. She then said, "Now I can die happy."
The chief turned and said, "And now, mysterious one dressed in black, what is your final wish?" "Kick me in the ass," said the SEAL. "What?" the chief replied. "Will you mock us in your last hour?" "No, I'm not kidding. I want you to kick me in the ass," insisted the SEAL.
So the chief shoved him into the open and kicked him in the ass. The SEAL went sprawling, but rolled to his knees, pulled a 9mm H&K P9S from his waistband, and shot the chief dead. In the resulting confusion, he leapt to his knapsack, pulled out his MP5N submachine gun, and sprayed the remaining cannibals with gunfire. In a flash, all the cannibals were dead or fleeing for their lives.
As the SEAL was untying the others, they asked him, "Why didn't you just shoot them? Why did you ask them to kick you in the ass?"
"What!?" said the SEAL, "And have you assholes call ME the aggressor?!?"
[Especially for my SEAL friend in New Jersey]
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Hello, Ping Fairy
You didn't like the post of 11:12 AM, nor the one at 12:36 PM. What about this one?
Pet Shop Story
A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"
As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabby or a thoft and fuwwy wack wabby or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabby over there?"
She, in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice, "I don't fink my python weally gives a thit!"
More Mail From Judiu
(who's on a roll this week!)
Here are some conversations that airline passengers normally will never hear. The following are accounts of actual exchanges between airline pilots and control towers from around the world.
While taxiing at London Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going? I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!" Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?"
"Yes ma'am," the humbled crew responded.
Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out in Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: "Wasn't I married to you once?"
A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out after touching down. San Jose Tower Noted: "American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadalupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport."
From an unknown aircraft waiting in a very long takeoff queue: "I'm f...ing bored!"
Ground Traffic Control: "Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!"
Unknown aircraft: "I said I was f...ing bored, not f...ing stupid!"
Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency 124.7"
Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way, after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway."
Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702, contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern 702?"
Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and yes, we copied Eastern... we've already notified our caterers"
The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one's gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign "Speedbird 206".
Speedbird 206: "Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway."
Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven."
The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"
Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944 -- but I didn't land."
O'Hare Approach Control to a 747: "United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o'clock, three miles, Eastbound."
United 239: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this... I've got the little Fokker in sight."
A Pan Am 727 flight waiting for start clearance in Munich overheard the following:
Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"
Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak in English."
Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?"
Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war."
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Thanks, Kevin. AGAIN!
Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.
Judiu sent this email. Da Goddess furnished the "Chronologically Advanced" heading, and it should have TM, but I don't know how to make one!!!
100 Years Ago
YEAR OF 1903: This ought to boggle your mind.
The year is 1903, one hundred years ago... what a difference a century makes. Here are the U.S. statistics for 1903....
The average life expectancy in the U.S. was forty-seven.
Only 14 Percent of the homes in the U.S. had a bathtub.
Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.
A three-minute call from Denver to New York City cost eleven dollars.
There were only 8,000 cars in the U.S. and only 144 miles of paved roads.
The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million residents, California was only the 21st most populous state in the Union.
The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
The average wage in the U.S. was 22 cents an hour.
The average U.S. worker made between $200 and $400 per year.
A competent accountant could expect to earn $2,000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.
More than 95 percent of all births in the U.S. took place at home.
Ninety percent of all U.S. physicians had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and by the government as "substandard."
Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee cost fifteen cents a pound.
Most women only washed their hair once a month and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
Canada passed a law prohibiting poor people from entering the country for any reason.
The five leading causes of death in the U.S. were
1. Pneumonia and influenza
4. Heart disease
The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.
The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was 30.
Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn't been invented.
There were no Mother's Day or Father's Day.
One in ten U.S. adults couldn't read or write. Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.
Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at corner drugstores. According to one pharmacist, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and the bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health."
Eighteen percent of households in the US had at least one full-time servant or domestic.
There were only about 230 reported murders in the entire U.S.
Just think what it will be like in another 100 years. It boggles the mind!
It's hard to believe that our grandparents were teenagers, just starting out in life at times like these. WOW!
It may be necessary for me to reimburse Betsy for the material she so diligently brings to her blog that I need!!! Here are a few notables. Of course, it is recommended that you visit her page and read the entire entries.
~~ A mother in Detroit got in trouble for letting her three year old go topless at the water park. It's okay for boys, but not girls.
~~ A Harvard study shows that conservative papers are more partisan than liberal papers in their editorial pages.
~~ It's amazing that we're still fighting the wars between bilingual education and English immersion when the evidence is so clear that English immersion works and bilingual education doesn't.
~~ Michele at No Small Victory is upset that the Clintons made the John Hawkins list of Worst Figures in American History and challenges list-makers to explain why they included Clinton. Well, full disclosure: I participated in the survey and included both Clinton and Nixon for the same reasons. They damaged the presidency and split the American people in ways that we're still recovering from.
Monday, August 04, 2003
MAIL BOX: Two Stories
Story Number One
Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago. Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.
Capone had a lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie." He was his lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time. To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block. Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocities that went on around him.
Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had the best of everything: clothes, cars and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son: he couldn't pass on a good name and a good example.
One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done. He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al "Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great. So, he testified. Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street. But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he would ever pay.
Story Number Two
World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific. One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank. He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.
As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood cold. A squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding their way toward the American fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger. There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet.
Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent. Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly. Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction. Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier. Upon arrival he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He had in fact destroyed five enemy aircraft.
This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor. A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29. His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man. So the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.
SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?
Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddie's son.
(verified at Truth or Fiction)
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Of course we didn't forget your birthday! We sang Happy Birthday and toasted you with a glass of wine. We love you.