Beware of Goat Profiling

Another offering from my friend Tracy Farr... He really has a goat fetish...

I, like many of you, watch television whether or not there is anything good on, not because there isn’t anything better to do, but because it’s our God given American right to do it. But to be honest, I spend most of that time thinking about an epidemic that is sweeping the nation – an epidemic so profound, it could change the world as we know it. I’m talking about Goat Profiling.

Do you have any idea how many men and women have lost jobs just because their employer discovered they were raising goats? Me neither, but it’s bound to be huge. And what business is it to them anyway? Does raising a goat in the back yard solely for the purpose of getting rid of a few shrubs indicate that a person is a sub-standard worker? Of course not.

But word is out that some employers are outright asking in job interviews whether or not we have goats. Just ask Harold Bright.

“I went on a job interview the other day, everything was going great, and then the employer asked if I have goats,” said Bright. “When I indicated that I did, you could tell in his eyes that the interview was over. I never had trouble getting a job before I owned goats.”

In a recent survey, people who have a few goats in the back yard are half as likely to get a job than non goat owners, but it’s very hard to prove goat discrimination said Lawyer Judith Best.

“Every day we hear stories about men and women who are denied a job solely because they have goats,” Best said. “But in most states, it’s not illegal for employers to ask the goat question just as long as they ask it of all job applicants.”

And that’s what gets Harold Bright’s goat.

“Does the fact that I have a few goats make me a less-dependable worker? I don’t think so,” said Bright. “But until Congress passes a law stating that goat profiling is illegal, we goat owners will forever be passed over for employment.”

Do you believe you have encountered discrimination at work because you have goats? If so, call the I Have A Goat But No Job Hotline, and voice your concerns.
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Stinky Creek Texas -- An equal opportunity employer

Accidental Millionaires

I just read an item on CNN news online about a couple in New Zealand who have been dubbed the "Accidental Millionaires" after a bank employee mistakenly gave them NZ$10 million when they applied for a loan of just NZ$10,000.

This happened early in May, and apparently the couple have absconded with the money. New Zealand authorities have now asked Interpol to assist in locating the couple, who are believed to come from the resort of Rotorua and wanted the loan to buy a station there.

Wow! On a level of pure greed, I can understand this duo taking off to someplace where they can live in the lap of luxury with this windfall. The temptation is strong. Who hasn't dreamed of winning the lottery or inheiriting a fortune and planned all the wonderful things we could do with the money?

I've even been tempted on a smaller scale when given the wrong change at the grocery store. It would be nice to keep the few extra dollars. What could it hurt?

Well, it hurts the person who made the mistake. They will have to pay the shortage.

But it also hurts me if I'm dishonest. It takes a chink out of my character. And that is what this is about. I am dismayed that this couple did not have the strength of character or a sense of morality that could override the greed. Did they really think it was okay to take the money and run? Can they look at themselves in the mirror and feel good about what they did?

What about you? What would you do in the same situation?

But on another level, I'm dismayed that some sense of morals did not override the greed.

The Best Laid Plans

The power went out here for a couple of hours this afternoon, which sure messed with the plan I had for today.

We have had such beautiful weather the past few days, I have been outside in the mornings taking care of the gardens and picking berries. Then I come inside and start my day in the office about 10 0r 11. I schedule an hour or so to update WinnsboroToday.com and then I work on my latest book for at least an hour. After that, I try to update this blog, do some promoting, or prepare something for The Blood Red Pencil blog.

This afternoon, the minute the power went out and my computer sighed to a close, I was adrift. What can I do? I can't write without my computer.

I know, I know. Haven't I heard of pen and paper?

Actually, I have, and I even started out as a writer with notebook paper and a pencil. Then I graduated to a pen. But I have become so acclimated to writing directly on the computer that I'm stymied when I can't.

Kind of weird when you think about it. Tolstoy wrote War and Peace with a quill pen. You'd think we modern writers could suck it up and get out a ballpoint.

Miracle Cat Update

Orca, our injured cat I wrote about the other day, had his surgery and came home yesterday afternoon. He is already hobbling around and using that leg. Unbelievable. The leg is pinned with an apparatus on the outside that the veterinarian calls a Tinker toy. It looks ungainly and certainly has to be uncomfortable, but Orca doesn't seem bothered by it.

The other cats, however, are extremely bothered by it. They both - including Orca's mother -- hiss at him whenever we let him out of the bathroom where he is confined. We have to do that periodically just to save our sanity.

Orca is not thrilled with being locked up in a small space and lets us know in loud protests. That cat has the loudest meow I have ever heard, and when he's upset, he really cranks it up. He yowled most of the evening yesterday, and I had visions of him keeping us up all night, but thank goodness, he went to sleep and we didn't hear from him until early this morning.

Then he really wanted to go outside. I let him come out of the bathroom while I got his food and the pill I had to shove down his throat. Orca went to every door and meowed to go out. I think he wanted to use the great outdoors instead of the litter box -- he's always preferred that -- but he finally gave in when I put him back in the bathroom. A little later I checked and the box had been used.

He just gave me a look that said, "Okay. I did it. I didn't like it, but here it is. Are you happy? And who's going to clean up this mess. Certainly not me."

At least I think that's what he said. Cat speak is so hard to discipher.

Let's Sit Around and Do Nothing

Another piece of nonsense... er... great writing ... from my friend Tracy Farr:

People like Oprah are always busy, always doing something, always in the middle of whatever is going on because that's what they do, and to NOT do it would mean the end of civilization as they know it. To them, doing absolutely nothing is a fate worse than death.

Well, I've done absolutely nothing (many times), and I kind of like it.

It's not that hard to do absolutely nothing. You just get out of bed, fix yourself a huge cup of coffee (which sounds like you're doing something, but isn't), then find a comfy place to relax (a couch or wing-back chair would do fine) and concentrate! Yes, to do absolutely nothing requires concentration because what you'll WANT to do is think about what you SHOULD be doing -- and we can't have any of that!

In your mind you've got to forget about mowing the yard. Forget about paying the bills. Forget about calling your parents so they'll know you're still alive. Forget about the economy and Swine Flu. Forget about how good Marylou looks now and how you wish you'd dated HER in high school instead of Imagene. Forget about digital TV and iPhones. Forget about all the things that drive us absolutely bonkers but we put up with them anyway because "that's progress."

Yes, indeed. Doing absolutely nothing is not for wimps. And that's why you'll never see Oprah doing it!
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Stinky Creek Texas -- Where we're experts at doing nothing!

The Miracle Cat

We have this cat named Orca -- for obvious reasons -- and he has had a tough life for only being three years old. Of course, out here in the country the lifespan of a cat is much shorter than that of their city cousins. But we try to give them as much help as we can.

When Orca was just a kitten, he got into the engine of my husband's truck to take a nap and got caught up in the fan belt when my husband started the truck. Orca survived that, to the amazement of the farmer next door who came to help us get the cat out and to the vet who repaired the broken leg.

Last week, Orca disappeared late Monday afternoon. Well, actually we didn't know he had disappeared for sure until late Tuesday when he still had not come back to eat. He likes to go outside - preferring that to a litter box - and then there are all the moles and gophers and mice to hunt. But he doesn't often miss the feeding times with the other cats, so we started to worry that he met up with a coyote or a truck speeding down the road.

For three days we tried to keep the worry at bay and hold out a small hope that he might come back, but, by Friday, had to admit that probably wasn't going to happen.

Then late Sunday, we heard a mewing on the front porch, went to the door, and there was Orca. He sauntered in - as best he could saunter with a broken leg - went right to his food dish and asked for supper. He ate, then went to take a nap on our bed, as if nothing had happened.

We were in a state of shock for an hour or so, taking turns looking at him on the bed to make sure we weren't dreaming.

We weren't dreaming. Somehow he managed to suvive six days out there and didn't even look too malnourished. We couldn't see any other injuries, either, and he didn't seem to be in much pain so we didn't do an emergency vet visit, opting to take him in this morning.

Orca has a nasty, splintered break below the knee and a dislocated knee, so it is going to cost a lot to repair all that. We briefly considered not repairing it, but then we figured if this cat could survive a truck engine, another car accdent, and then being out in the wild for 6 days and avoiding coyotes and other predatory animals, he deserves the other seven lives he's got left.

That may not be practical, but sometimes it feels good not to be practical.

Happy Mother's Day

In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I would dust off a column I wrote when my children were young and I was writing for a Dallas publication. The sentiments are just as true today as they were those many years ago....

Chocolates all around. Enjoy!!!!

“Sunday is Mother’s Day and in this time of feminism and ERA it’s hard to decide what to write about. Do I mention all those hart-tugging gifts I’ve received over the years, like the dead tomato plant in a tin can and the wilted dandelions clutched tightly in a grubby little hand?

On the other hand, maybe it’s unfair to offer only one side of motherhood. Maybe I should say a word of two about all the daily frustrations that threaten to make me seek cover in the nearest rest home. The cleaning; the car pools; the laundry; the endless sibling infighting; more cleaning; and cooking and….

Who’s the joker who started the myth that housewives spend endless hours in front of the television eating chocolates? Not that it’s a bad idea. But let’s get real. The last time I watched daytime television I was sick with the flu and couldn’t have eaten a chocolate if Godiva herself brought me one.

While I’ve been trying to sort out all these things associated with motherhood, I keep wondering why there is so much unrest among women today, even those who have had a satisfying career outside the home before deciding to become full-time homemakers. Then I realized the unrest comes out of a loss of pride. Modern thinking has managed to strip us of any glimmer of the kind of pride our mothers could feel for their role.

It’s true that modern ideology still advocates free choice, but somehow the choice of full-time homemaker doesn’t garner the same respect and interest as choosing to be an astronaut. When was the last time an anecdote about your five-year-old drew a crowd at a cocktail party?

Under the circumstances, it’s no wonder women are in such turmoil. Society has force-fed us its version of the “modern woman” -- exciting, sophisticated, fulfilled, and working outside the home. So when a woman finds her fulfillment at home, she automatically starts questioning and comparing. That is especially true of the women who had a different career first.

As someone who has managed to straddle the fence for a number of years, I don’t feel qualified to advocate one over the other. I’ve managed to have the best of both worlds, and I must admit that my early success with writing came as a balm at a time when I felt like I was drowning in custodial duties for the family. But a painting class the year before had been just as therapeutic.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m a mother and homemaker first. And somewhere down the line when I may be sitting in a rocking chair looking back over my life, I think the dead tomato plant will mean more to me than my first paycheck as a writer."

I'm not dottering yet, but I do have a rocking chair, and the dead tomato plant does mean more to me than the first paycheck I received as a writer.

Wishing all the other mothers out there a day destined to be remembered with such fondness.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

I saw this report on CNN Online and couldn't believe it....

"Wal-Mart has agreed to pay nearly $2 million and take extra safety precautions after a stampede killed a store employee in Long Island, New York last year. It happened as the store opened on the day after Thanksgiving last November, which is traditionally among the busiest day of the year for retailers.

Wal-Mart agreed to pay $1.5 million for community programs in Nassau County and another $400,000 to compensate people who were injured in the incident and repay them for out-of-pocket expenditures.

The retailer will implement a crowd management program at each of its 92 stores in New York for after-Thanksgiving shopping. The plan was developed by experts who have worked on crowd management at Super Bowls and Olympic Games. ...."

Okay, so a bunch of people act like maniacs to get into a store ahead of everyone else and the store has to pay? I remember when this was first reported last November and hints were given that it would go to litigation. Why not? Wal-Mart has deep pockets. But part of me was hoping the case would go in front of a judge who would see that THE STORE WAS NOT AT FAULT. (Pardon the shouting, but is this not ridiculous?)

Deep breath.... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Okay. Better now. Back to your regularly scheduled program.

Back Home Again

I returned from my long trip late yesterday afternoon, exhausted and glad to be home. The trip to Michigan was wonderful, and the birthday party for my mother was great. Everyone had a nice time, especially Mother who enjoyed visiting with children, grand children, great-grandchildren, other assorted relatives and friends.

One of the highlights of the party was a bag of old photographs my cousin brought. She and mother had a good time going through pictures and remembering. Later, some of the rest of us got to see the pictures, too. There were a number of pictures of my mother and her sister when they were young, as well as some shots of her parents and grandparents. They were cool to see.

It is always so nice to connect to the past that way, and sometimes I don't think we do enough of that. Or if we do, it is by dredging up past hurts and problems.

My sister and I tried to avoid that while I was there. We did spend some time reminiscing about our childhood while the three of us were sketching one day, and Mother commented that Nita and I were only talking about the good things. I don't think either one of us made a conscious decision to do that, and we certainly don't do it all the time, but it was healthy I think to focus on the pleasant memories.

At least it sure felt good to me.

The Secret to Staying Young

Here's more fun from my friend Tracy Farr....

That’s right, I have the Secret To Staying Young. It doesn’t come in a bottle, it doesn’t come in a pill, and you don’t have to torture yourself with Richard Simmons tapes and Veggie Drinks. And, because you are my friend, I’m letting you in on the secret Absolutely Free!

And here it is: Get Off Your Buttocks And Do Something Different, Out Of The Ordinary, Something So Totally Unexpected That Your Friends And Neighbors Will Think You’ve Lost Your Ever-Loving Mind!

“But Tracy, how is THAT going to keep me looking young?”

Well, it won’t. You’re getting older and some of your parts have already packed up and moved south without you. But I didn’t say my secret would keep you LOOKING young. I said it will keep you STAYING young.

Researchers have learned that as you grow older, if you keep your mind active by learning new things and trying something different every now and then, you can keep your mind from turning into mush and squirting out your ear. And as far as I’m concerned, having my brain squirt all over my living room is not my idea of a good time. So, that’s why I’m learning to play the fiddle.

“Oh Holey Moley, Tracy, that’s what you told us LAST week!”

I did? You mean I’m repeating myself? Oh no, my mind is already turning to mush! I feel the squirt a comin’. It’s comin’ round the bend. And I ain’t seen the sunshine since....

Oh no! Now I’m quoting Johnny Cash songs! It’s too late for me. I’m all mush. Save yourselves! Go bungee jumping! Skydiving! Learn to speak Chinese! Do anything to keep your mind strong and active as you approach old age and beyond.

Just do me one favor. Remember me. Remember me as the guy who kept your brain from squirting all over the place. Remember me, because Heaven knows I won’t be able to.

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Stinky Creek Texas -- Where we don't have mush

Help For Addicts

There is an interesting article on CNN Health about new medications to help treat addictions. It's well worth the read for anyone who has dealt with addictions or knows someone with an addiction problem. This new treatment sounds promising.

However, one statement in the story caught me up short:

These findings highlight what's become increasingly clear: Addiction is a brain disease, not just a failure of willpower.

Are there still people who don't realize that? It has been scientifically proven for decades that addiction is an illness, not a human weakness. Sure, it does take some strength of character to acknowledge the illness and seek help, but it is still an illness.

The article describes two drugs that have been used successfully to curb the urge to drink. The drugs, naltrexone and topiramate, block the release of brain chemicals that are linked to pleasure., and people in the research study known as COMBINE report that they no longer even have the urge to drink.

Traditional rehab programs such as AA and Betty Ford advocate behavioral therapy combined with a spiritual component but don't use drugs. Experts there say the drug therapy doesn't address all those component, so maybe a combination of approaches would have the most success.

Whatever path is chosen by an addict, it is important that the people he or she meets along that path treat understand the disease and treat the patient with dignity.

Well, fiddle-dee-dee

Here's another piece of nonsense from my friend Tracy Farr....

This story is going to be short. I’m working on a plan to train my cats. I want them to scatter whenever I come into the house, and I don’t want them to re-appear until I leave. To accomplish this, I went out and rented the best “Cat Away” device ever invented by man – a fiddle.

That’s right, I’m going to learn how to play the fiddle, and at the same time teach those cats to FEAR me!

The man at the store wanted to rent me a violin, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I stood my ground until he rented me a fiddle. And I decided to RENT one because I knew if I walked into my house with a paid-for fiddle, my spouse would have thrown a skillet at me and those things aren't made of plastic, don’t ya know!

Yep, going to learn how to fiddle. That way, when I’m done piddling around the house, I can fiddle for awhile, and become the best piddling fiddle player in the neighborhood.

And speaking of neighbors – I have no idea what they’re going to think of me when I start screeching and scratching all hours of the day and night, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it sooner or later.

Well, got to go now! I see a cat – and I’d rather not!

_________________________________

Stinky Creek Texas -- Where we love to fiddle

A Little Quiet Please

Recently in the Dallas Morning News, I read a wonderful column about the benefits of meditation. Erin Goldman of Dallas, a high school senior, wrote the piece and it touched me on many levels.

First, I could relate to what she wrote, "Meditation is more than sitting cross-legged on the floor in quiet darkness; it's an instrument for heightening awareness. My mind is perpetually churning. Thoughts, worries and fears pour into my head like a furious thunderstorm and leave me drenched. Meditation provides an umbrella."

I read that section several times, reminding myself that the words were written by a teenage girl, not a seasoned columnist who spent years perfecting a pleasant, engaging writing style.

Then I went outside, where I do my best meditating, content in the knowledge that the world of journalism is safe in the hands of young people like Erin. Not only is she bright and articulate, but she knows how to keep a balance in life. If we are never quiet, where do the profound thoughts come from?

Going on Vacation

Tomorrow morning I leave for a long drive to Michigan, but the miles are worth it. I'm going to see my mother and help celebrate her 90th Birthday.

There was a time many years ago when we weren't sure she would make it to 70, let alone 90, but thankfully she is still with us, and still in relatively good health.

I'm really looking forward to this trip. It will be nice to kick back and relax, and if the weather is nice we can take our sketchpads out on the deck overlooking the river at my sister's house. That is one of the things we enjoy a lot, and the first thing I packed was the bag with my art supplies.

If the weather doesn't cooperate, we can sit inside and knit. That is another thing we share in common. We like to do all kinds of hand crafts, although Mother is much better at it than I am. :-)

But the most important thing will be just being there. Talking, looking at pictures. Talking some more. Visiting with my sister and all her family.

I thought about bringing my laptop computer and keeping up with e-mail and maybe doing some work, but as this day has progressed, I've thought less about that and more about how nice it will be to have 10 days away from all that and just immersed in family.

So that is what I am going to do. I will disappear from the blogosphere and the Internet for about ten days. Will the earth stand still because of my absence?

Ha! I don't think so.

But thanks to a function with Blogger that allows us to schedule blogs, I have a few posts ready for certain days so readers still have something fresh now and then.

Who Are The Best And The Brightest?

According to Judith Warner who writes the Domestic Disturbances blog for the New York Times, those terms have been used to describe the top dogs on Wall Street. The men and women who study the market, buy and sell, and make tons of money.

In a recent blog, she questioned why those Wall Street honchos are considered the best and the brightest. She wrote that the best and the brightest used to mean the people who were supposed to be the smartest, not who made the most money.

Amen to that.

Before reading her blog, I was not aware that we looked on the folks on Wall Street with such esteem. I certainly did not. My esteem was reserved for educators, doctors, some journalists, nurses, social workers, some members of clergy, and people like my father and grandfather who did not have a lot of formal education, but thought reading the entire set of encyclopedias was a good idea.

A Job Saved

I know Mondays are usually reserved for Tracy Farr's nonsense, but I couldn't resist putting this one up early. Enjoy.....

Links fixed

In last week's Stinky Creek Newsletter, none of the links worked because of the downturn in our economy. We instituted a new process for linking which had a few bugs. But NOW, hopefully, all those bugs are fixed. Here's the story that started it all:

Economic stimulus package saves job at Daily Spittoon

For awhile it looked like The Daily Spittoon was going to take a hit from the downturn in the economy, but not anymore.

The recent multi-billion dollar stimulus package has made it possible for Joel Ramón, the Spittoon's Link Manager for 20 years, to keep his job instead of being laid off.

"This is a happy day for me," Ramón said. "I just knew I was going to be the next victim of this economy, but I guess I got lucky."

Ramón came to the Spittoon in 1989, at a time when "links" on web pages were painted by hand. Each link was painted in three different colors and had to work independently of all the other links.

"It was a very technical process," Ramón said. "There had to be a color for a link that hadn't been opened, an underlying color that showed up when a user's cursor hovered above it, then the third color to show that the link had been opened. And this all had to be done by hand -- with oil-based paint and brush. It was a demanding job, but very satisfying."

Things changed for Ramón when the economy took a turn for the worse. Costs had to be cut, and it made more sense to paint links with a computer application than by hand.

"It seemed like overnight I was out of a job," Ramón said. "One day I was happily painting links, and the next thing I know some college kid with a degree is doing it all on computer -- without even getting paint on his fingers. I guess I could have learned how to do it digitally, but I refused. Painting links is an art form in and of itself. You can do it on computer, but it's just not the same."

Luckily for Joel Ramón, the stimulus package came just in time to save his job.

"I am now the Spittoon's District Paint Application Manager," Ramón said. "I make sure the walls are painted, the trim is decorative, and keep tabs on any touchups that need to be made. Not only that, but twice a year I get to pick a wall and paint a mural on it.

"When one door closes, another door opens," Ramón added. "I'm now having the best time of my life."

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The Daily Spittoon - – Sometimes progress sucks.

A Photographer

I keep saying I'm not a professional photographer. And I must admit I am a long way from being a good professional photographer. But since I take the majority of the pictures for WinnsboroToday.com I guess I am a professional.

Plus, I can hardly pass up an opportunity to take a picture of our animals or some flowers. If I stop what I am doing so I can get this kind of shot, I guess that must mean I am a photograper. :-)

Are They Trying to Tell me Something

Does anybody but me think it is funny that just below the picture of my book are all the Google ads for trash cans?

That's It, I've Had Enough

Another wonderful bit of nonsense from my friend, Tracy Farr. Enjoy.....

I just wanted you to know that this past Tuesday I was so fed up with work that I finally decided to quit and find something better to do – maybe drive a big rig to California and deliver eggs or something.

So with that in mind, I started cleaning out my desk because that’s what you do when you’re tired of a place and you’re going to hit the road – you clean out your desk. And do you know what I found in there? Things that I’ve been missing for years. All this time they’ve been stuck in a bottom drawer and I never knew they were there. I placed them in my “clean out my desk” box so I won’t lose them again.

With the top of my desk spotless, and my drawers almost completely emptied, I turned to my filing cabinet.

There’s not many things more satisfying than chunking files into the trash. Eating a beef burrito comes close, but not quite close enough. So, I pulled out a file that I haven’t used since the 80s, chunked it in the trash, then pulled out another file. Checked to make sure it wasn’t important, then chunked it in the trash, too. In no time at all my filing cabinet was all in order, my trash bin was overflowing, and I started on my bookshelf.

Yep, won’t need that pamphlet any more – throw it in the trash. Nope – I’ll never be thumbing through that book again – just slam dunk it. Why, looky there – there’s an entire stack of magazines full of lots of good things – throw them all in the trash where they belong. Clean, clean, clean. Chunk, chunk, chunk. Find another trash can, fill it up, too. Don’t stop until you’ve cleaned up your entire life and are ready to ride off into the sunset. Then, and only then, sit back and relax with your newly found feeling of freedom.

And do you know what I found when I sat back and relaxed with my newly found feeling of freedom? My office doesn’t look half bad anymore. In fact, it looks quite inviting and comfortable.

Hmmm. Maybe I’ll stick around a little bit longer.
___________________________________________________
The Daily Spittoon – It’s better to clean up than to give up!

Happy Spring

Some of us are celebrating Easter this weekend, and even though we have no little ones to hunt for eggs or hidden Easter Baskets, my husband and I have gotten into the spirit of the season. I dug out a basket and he shopped for some goodies to put in it. Then I decided to make a pineapple upside-down cake.

And since we don't have any other adults around us to tell us we couldn't, we decided to eat some of the cake yesterday - Friday - even though the cake was supposed to be for Easter Sunday.

Today has felt like a holiday, too. We went out to breakfast, as we can't do that on Sunday because of church duties. Met some friends in town and had a nice visit with them.

I know lots of people join us in this Easter celebration, but I also know that some of the people who may wander by this blog do not. Jews are celebrating Passover this weekend, and it is not a coincidence that it happens the same time as Easter. After all, Jesus was a Jew.

There are people of many other faiths who don't celebrate either Easter or Passover, but almost all religions have some kind of observance to mark the beginning of new life in the spring. And it is such an exciting time for us all as we watch the earth come back to life after the desolation of winter.

Sometimes it feels like we come back to life, too. And maybe we do.

Old Friends

Old cars can be a source of unlimited frustration and anxiety for their owners, and yet they can hold a certain amount of charm and sentimentality. While most old cars are barely held together with chewing gum and rubber bands, and they threaten to die at each stop sign, many people would rather get rid of the family dog than part with a cherished old car.

My friend in college had a battered old Plymouth, and its only redeeming quality was the fact that it would get us where we wanted to go, and most of the time it would get us back again. One of the most interesting features of this car, besides the fender that I would have to pick up from the pavement every time we stopped at a traffic light, were the two-by-fours across the frame that supported the seats.

Not having a floor in the car gave us a false sense of security, in that we figured if the brakes ever gave out, we could still stop the car by dragging our feet. It also provided an unlimited source of ventilation which was terrific in the summer, but a little uncomfortable in the winter, especially in a snowstorm.

Then there was my sister's dottering Chevy that could go almost forever on a tank of gas, but needed a quart of oil every other mile. If we forgot the oil, interesting things would start to happen under the hood, and we were sure that the engine was about to throw pistons and rods all over the road.

Then there was the friend who had an ancient Rambler that barely limped from mile to mile, but which sported a brand new set of seat covers. Since the car had over a hundred thousand miles on it, it is understandable that my friend hesitated to invest in new seat covers, but the choice was taken out of his hands when the springs started poking through the seat and tearing up his good suits.

Closing the doors in his car required more than just the usual wrist motion, as the driver's window had to be rolled all the way down before the passenger door would close. But at least the doors opened and closed and the windows went up and down.

The window on the driver's side of the Pinto we once owned didn't go up or down, and when I pulled up at the drive through window at the bank, I would have to get out of the car to do my banking.

I would get some strange looks from people waiting in line, but maybe most of them understood. Surely there was an interesting old car somewhere in their background too.

What about you? Do you have a story about an old car you'd like to share?

Testing

Something seems to be wrong with Blogger today. Can't get my post to show up.

Ranting Again

Okay, I thought I could maybe go a whole week or so without a rant, but a story on Sixty Minutes this evening got to me.

The story was about an oncology clinic in Las Vegas that was closed because of the tough economic times. The hospital CEO was interviewed and she said that the state budget is decimated because of the loss of tax revenue from gaming and construction, and the hospital lost millions of medicare funding.

That wasn't what was so upsetting. What was difficult to watch was the interviews with patients who were no longer going to be able to receive chemotherapy. They all said that without treatment they will die.

The people featured in this story have no insurance. Many of them have lost their jobs and therefore their health coverage. Yet, they do not qualify for some kinds of social assistance since they are not among the poorest of the poor. So they are out there in some terrible medical limbo with no hope in sight.

I'm not faulting the hospital for having to make this tough decision, but I do wonder if that hospital CEO and other administrators have taken a pay cut to help balance their budget. And what else have they done to streamline costs before taking this drastic step? Like any other business, there is so much administrative waste in a large hospital, that a couple of million dollars could be found so a few more people don't have to die.

Easy Does It

Okay, I'm off my high-horse and much more mellow today. It is an absolutely gorgeous day and there is no way I can be strident with such a beautiful view out my office window.

The trees are leafing out, and the berry vines are covered in white flowers. Not too long now and I will be out picking berries and having them with my breakfast. That is if the birds leave me enough to harvest. There is a small flock of little sparrows already eyeing the vines. And a few robins are keeping watch from the branches of a sweet gum tree.

It is also a warm day with bright blue in the sky and bold sunlight cutting through the trees. I think I would much rather be outside than inside. In fact, I can't even count how many times I've made up an excuse to leave my office.

Whoops, I feel another one coming on....

Can the President Really do This?

The other day President Barack Obama told Rick Wagoner, CEO of General Motors, to step down. First of all, I couldn't believe that the president would actually do that, and I was shocked that Wagoner agreed. And I can't help but wonder what happened behind the scenes to lead to this.

Wagoner's tenure as CEO of General Motors occurred during a recession and high gas prices that led to a sharp decline in GM stock value, and inthe last four years GM lost $82 billion. Even so, the federal government has no authority to dictate to businesses.

There is some talk that there are more measures proposed by the government that will impact workers, unions, suppliers, shareholders, retirees and the communities where plants are located.

I suppose that the White House is justifying the interferance because of the millions of dollars that have been loaned to General Motors and Chrysler in recent months. The taxpayers are asking for accountability and transparancy as to how this money is being used. But I haven't met a taxpayer yet who supports the president telling people how to conduct business.

We are swiftly moving toward a socialistic absolutism, which is a form of government in which a single leader or party exercises absolute control over all citizens and every aspect of their lives.

I don't know about you, but I like to control my own life, thank you very much.

Meeting the Public

A number of people came to the library in Tyler to meet the authors and it was fun to talk to folks about books. The children provided the most fun as they marveled at us "real writers." I guess some of them have no concept of what is behind their favorite book. Sort of like many kids think hamburger originates in the supermarket packaged in shrink wrap.

The other great thing about attending an event like this is the opportunity to meet other authors. There are a few that I have gotten to know from sharing other venues, and it is always fun to see them again, as well as meet new friends. Sharon Ellsberry writes the cutest books featuring spaniel dogs, and Jan Mathew has written haiku and prose about cats with very nice ink illustrations.

There were authors with self-help type books, including Elizabeth Baker who has written for WinnsboroToday.com for a number of years. Liza Ely was there with her book, Conscious Acts of Grace, which deals with end-of-life issues is a truly positive, uplifting way. Vina Lee is a life coach and has an interesting book titled, Get Out of Jail Free.

I enjoyed visiting with these authors, as well as Joe Lansdale and James Olson who both write fiction. We shared a panel discussion in the afternoon and the audience seemed to appreciate what we had to say about the wacky world of writing.

I always come home from an all-day event like this exhausted, yet energized by spending time around so many people who love books and love to write.

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Here are links to Web sites of some of the featured authors in case you are interested in checking out their books:

Linda Ayers www.lindaayers.com

Sharon Ellsberry www.gospaniels.com

Joe Lansdale www.joerlansdale.com

James Olson www.booksbyolson.com

Vina Lee www.freewebs.com/alcoachacademy/

Elizabeth Baker www.elizabethbakerbooks.com

Jan B. Mathew janbmathew.com

Liza Ely centerofwellbeing.com

Random Thoughts

This has been a disjointed day for me as I have a lot of things going on. Started this morning when I decided to plant beans. Seemed like a good thing to do since we are getting a lot of rain here in East Texas over the last few days.

While I was out working in the garden, I discovered that something ate my peas. I had several coming up and had just put up a trellis to support the vines. Too late to replant now. Drat. Guess I will plant a few more beans and hope something doesn't eat them, too.

I am getting ready for an all day event at a library tomorrow, so I am working down a to-do list to make sure I have everything else taken care of. I will have to leave early in the morning to drive almost two hours to the library in Tyler.

If any of you reading this live near Tyler, do stop by from 10 until 4:30. There will be a number of authors there with a wide variety of books.

This event is called "Azalea Tales" and is running in conjunction with the annual "Azalea Trails" that takes place when the flowers are in their full glory.

I have a few azaleas blooming, but they are not as full and lush as the ones in this picture. I guess I need to add more compost for them.

Guest Blog

Here is your weekly dose of humor from my friend Tracy Farr. Enjoy.....


The Beckster

I betcha you’ll never guess where I am right now as I’m writing this. Go ahead, give it a shot. You’ll never guess. Not in a million years. Giving up so soon? Gosh, you didn’t even try. Okay I’ll tell you. I’m in downtown Ft. Worth, sitting in the Ft. Worth Convention Center watching the 2009 Marching Auxiliaries National Dance Championships.

That’s right – DANCE! And I’ve been here since 6 a.m. By the time I get home to edit all this, I will have spent 14 hours in a perfectly-good arena and not seen one hockey game.

Fourteen hours of nonstop estrogen-induced bust-a-move dance performed by little girls wearing a whole lot of practically nothing. No Red-Blooded American “Old Guy” should EVER be caught in a place like this when he could be out on the lake or watching NASCAR! But my little girl, Becky, is on one of the dance teams and that’s what makes it okay – so they say.

Becky is 11 and in 5th grade. Her full name is Rebecca Michelle, but we call her Becky. Sometimes we call her The Beckster, other times Beck, Becca, BeckBeck, Booster, Bebop, and for some odd reason, Parker. (Don’t ask me why because I don’t know.)

Beckster has been dancing for eight years, but she’s not your typical “dancer girl.” She likes to ride on my motorcycle. She’s the only one in my family who has had the nerve to go flying with me. She doesn’t mind watching me skin a squirrel. And she can belch better than you and me put together. Yep, she’s gonna make a good catch for some guy out there. But not just ANY guy. In fact, let’s just forget about guys for now. I’m sorry I even brought up the subject.

ATTENTION ALL GUYS: Yes, my Beckster can bust a move on the dance floor, throwing her hips around in such a way you’d bet money they were about to fly off, hit someone in the head, and give them a concussion – but, that does NOT mean she’s interested in YOU!

In fact, if you even THINK about coming over to my house to pick up my little girl, you better know something in advance – I have weapons. They’re loaded, and I know how to point and click! So, it might be best for you to go and pick on some other daddy’s little girl. I cannot be held responsible for what might happen if you don’t.

Just remember – goats eat everything.
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The Daily Spittoon - – Not as good as a nap, but close.

Old Friends

Old cars can be a source of unlimited frustration and anxiety for their owners, and yet they can hold a certain amount of charm and sentimentality. While most old cars are barely held together with chewing gum and rubber bands, and they threaten to die at each stop sign, many people would rather get rid of the family dog than part with a cherished old car.

My friend in college had a battered old Plymouth, and its only redeeming quality was the fact that it would get us where we wanted to go, and most of the time it would get us back again. One of the most interesting features of this car, besides the fender that I would have to pick up from the pavement every time we stopped at a traffic light, were the two-by-fours across the frame that supported the seats.

Not having a floor in the car gave us a false sense of security, in that we figured if the brakes ever gave out, we could still stop the car by dragging our feet. It also provided an unlimited source of ventilation which was terrific in the summer, but a little uncomfortable in the winter, especially in a snowstorm.

Then there was my sister's dottering Chevy that could go almost forever on a tank of gas, but needed a quart of oil every other mile. If we forgot the oil, interesting things would start to happen under the hood, and we were sure that the engine was about to throw pistons and rods all over the road.

Then there was the friend who had an ancient Rambler that barely limped from mile to mile, but which sported a brand new set of seat covers. Since the car had over a hundred thousand miles on it, it is understandable that my friend hesitated to invest in new seat covers, but the choice was taken out of his hands when the springs started poking through the seat and tearing up his good suits.

Closing the doors in his car required more than just the usual wrist motion, as the driver's window had to be rolled all the way down before the passenger door would close. But at least the doors opened and closed and the windows went up and down.

The window on the driver's side of the Pinto we once owned didn't go up or down, and when I pulled up at the drive through window at the bank, I would have to get out of the car to do my banking.

I would get some strange looks from people waiting in line, but maybe most of them understood. Surely there was an interesting old car somewhere in their background too.

What about you? Do you have a story about an old car you'd like to share?

BWL Scavenger Hunt

Just read on the Books We Love Readers group on Yahoo that the Scavenger Hunt contest has been extended and incorporates a membership drive. I was busy all weekend so I didn't see that things had changed until today.

Books We Love (BWL) is a great place to find new authors and new books to read. On the actual BWL site readers can meet the authors and read excerpts of books. On the new BWL Readers group, people can join in daily discussions about books, read more excerpts, and get to know more about the BWL authors than maybe you want to know. :-)

So, here is the info on how the Scavenger Hunt contest is going to run.


Scavenger Hunt/New Member Drive

From now through the end of April, the BWL Reader's loop is having a grand opening Scavenger Hunt and new member drive. The events promise to be fun. Twenty authors have put up prizes, many of them autographed print copies of their books. The "travel/road map" for the Hunt will be posted daily on the BWL readers list. Answers to the questions are clearly displayed in excerpts, teasers, and descriptions on the designated websites on the travel/road map. Come and play, join the loop, you might get doubly lucky!

Please fell free to pass along the information.

To join: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BWL_Readers

Fun Scavenger Hunt

Tomorrow on Books We Love Reader's loop at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BWL_Readers

we'll be hosting a grand opening Scavenger Hunt. It promises to be fun. Twenty authors have put up prizes, many of them autographed print copies of their books, including me. A copy of Play It Again Sam is one of the prizes.

The answers to the questions you'll be given are clearly displayed in excerpts, teasers and descriptions on the designated websites on the travel map. Come and play.

This was organized by Ginger Simpson, who is terrific about promoting fellow authors as well as her own work.

The "road map" will be posted on the loop tomorrow morning and you'll have until Sunday at noon to email your answers to Ginger. Her e-mail is listed on the group.

The winners will be announced Sunday evening there. Hope to see you.

Why men like dogs and women like cats

As a change of pace from the last entry, here is another bit of humor from my friend, Tracy Farr....

Have you ever given much thought to why a majority of men prefer dogs and a majority of women prefer cats? I have. Not that I really care. But last Tuesday, having nothing better to do, I sat down and gave the question my undivided attention. Thirty minutes was just about all I could stand.

I believe men prefer dogs because dogs behave exactly the way a man wishes his woman would behave, but never will because women are smarter than that.

Dogs will fetch without complaining. They come when they’re called. T hey don’t mind rolling over to have their tummies scratched. And they’re always happy to wag a bit of tail. They don’t need extra time to “put on their face. ” They never grumble about how much football you watch. You can train them to do just about anything, and they never complain about how much more Debbie Howard’s husband makes compared to you.

Dogs have a one-track mind – they want to please. Women on the other hand are multi-faceted creatures that want to please up to a point – and if you don’t take out the trash, you’ll never get to that point.

Men would marry dogs if they could, but I think it’s illegal.

I have no idea why women prefer cats. I think it’s because cats purr. But other than that, cats and men have practically the same qualities – all of which are hated by women.

Cats stay out late at night and never tell you where they’ve been. They never come when called (unless it pertains to food), and they’re always spitting up globs of gunk that shouldn’t have been able to survive in their digestive system in the first place.

Cats leave hairs all over the place. They bring dead animals home and expect you to be impressed. They disappear whenever work needs to be done, and they expect you to clean up their poop because heaven knows they won’t do it themselves.

Women would never marry cats because that’s stupid. Besides, how would a cat support a family? On dead birds? I think not!

I told my man/woman, dog/cat theory to a good friend of mine. She said it was all bunk. She prefers dogs and her husband prefers cats.

As for me, I prefer goats. Goats aren’t like men or women. Goats are like goats. And as long as they eat my grass so I don’t have to mow, the more the merrier.

Another Absurdity

Joe Deshotel, a Texas state lawmaker, filed a bill this week that would create a pilot program designed to pay cash to students at low-performing schools for good grades in core subjects.

Freshmen could earn $50 for each "A," $35 for each "B," and $20 for each "C" in English, math, science or social studies. They would get half their money at the end of each grading period and the other half at graduation. They would also receive college and career counseling through the program.

Funding for the bill would come from $6 billion in federal stimulus money the state is planning to use on education.

At first glance, that might seem like a good idea. And I'm sure students are all for it, as are the parents who are already paying their kids for grades. Now they won't have to foot that bill.

But is it really a good idea?

Some argue that the kids need the incentive. Those on the "pro" side, also say that this helps kids prepare for the working world in which their pay will reflect their effort.

Those on the "con" side believe that education should be on a different level. That kids should learn for the sake of learning. That education is about so much more than performance and test scores and grades that could earn them a few bucks.

This debate has been going on for several years now, and there are other states already using some kind of payment reward for students. There isn't a consensus about whether it is the best approach or not, and there may never be a consensus.

I'm on the con side of the issue. Where do you stand?

Read an E-Book Week

In celebration of "Read an E-Book Week" there is a lot of buzz around the internet about e-books. Some blogs are offering contests, free books, and lots of other fun stuff.

On Charlotte Phillips blog, she has a list of e-books that have received good reviews and might be worthy of a look-see. Check it out HERE This is a book review site, and many of the books listed are ones that Charlotte has read and recommends.

Enjoy!

The Dead Horse

This is a joke making the rounds on the Internet, and it is just so timely I figured it was worth posting here. Enjoy...........


Young Chuck in Montana bought a horse from a farmer for $100, and the farmer agreed to deliver the horse the next day.

The next morning the farmer drove up and said, "Sorry son, but I have some bad news. The horse died."

"Well, then just give me my money back," Chuck said.

The farmer said, "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."

"Ok, then, just bring me the dead horse."

The farmer asked, "What ya gonna do with him?"

"I'm going to raffle him off," Chuck said.

The farmer said, "You can't raffle off a dead horse!"

"Sure I can," Chuck said. "I just won't tell anybody he's dead."

A month later, the farmer met up with Chuck and asked, "What happened with that dead horse?"

"I raffled him off," Chuck said. " I sold 500 tickets at two dollars apiece and made a profit of $998."

The farmer said, "Didn't anyone complain?"

"Just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back."

Chuck grew up and now works for the government. He's the one who figured out how this "bail-out" is going to work.

New Interview

I don't know about you, but I enjoy reading different interviews of authors to find out more about them, their books, and their approach to writing. We all do some things pretty much the same way -- sit our butts down in the chair and write -- but we all have little idiosyncrasies and rituals that differ.

For a while now, Suite 101 has been doing a series on writer's rituals, and I am the guest author today. If you are interested in what my office looks like and what can distract me from writing, you can read my interview HERE

If you do go over to read the interview, I hope you stay for a while and read some of the others. Interesting, fun stuff there.

Free Books

This was posted on one of the groups I belong to, and I thought, who doesn't like free books? So let's all see what treasures we can find this coming week.

Just to let you know that we'll be helping to celebrate Read an eBook Week next week by having some eBooks available to download for free. The week starts on Sunday, so if you could spread the word, that would be great.

To celebrate Read an eBook Week, March 8th – 14th, BeWrite Books will be giving away a selection of eBooks to download for free. Please follow this link to download your free copies. Each day will have a different genre of books to chose from including Crime, Adventure, Fantasy etc.
More details on Read an eBook Week can be found here:
http://www.ebookweek.com/index.html

To download your copies visit BeWrite Books:
http://www.bewrite.net/bookshop/download.htm

Great Contest Coming

YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THIS! In celebration of the grand opening of the new Books We Love Reader's Group at yahoo, BWL_Readers@yahoogroups.com, we're asking you to get acquainted with some of our authors by participating in a fun scavenger hunt. We promise it isn't hard. You just have to follow the provided links listed on the loop the morning of March 20th and answer some really easy questions. The answers are all there...you just have to find and collect them all to be entered into a drawing for one of eighteen books. Some will even be personally autographed. You'll have two days, with the contest ending Saturday at midnight. All entries must be received by Ginger Simpson at mizging@gmail.com by noon on Sunday, 3/22. Winners will be announced shortly after.

Whether you come to play or not, we hope you will join us in celebrating the beginning of what we hope will be a stimulating and pleasant group experience. If you aren't familiar with us, please visit http://www.bookswelove.net and get an idea of who we are and what we're about. I'm sure you may have already played in a contest or two there. Jude Pittman has assembled a wonderful group of talent, but without readers, we don't have much purpose. Come join us, won't you. Remember, Friday, March 20th.

Join us in welcoming Spring!

The Epitome of Absurd

I just read this little tidbit of news on CNN news online. It seems the absurd lawsuit -- $54 million over a missing pair of pants -- just won't go away:

"The District of Columbia Court of Appeals denied Roy Pearson’s “voluminous” petition to rehear his case, attorney Christopher Manning said in a written statement Tuesday. Manning represents the family who owns the dry cleaners Pearson sued.

In December, the court denied Pearson’s initial appeal. His final option is to ask the U.S. Supreme Court hear his case.

The saga began in May 2005, when Pearson took several pairs of pants to Chung’s Custom Cleaners for alteration as he prepared to start a new job. Pearson said one pair of pants was lost and the Chungs tried to give him another instead."

I remember when this case was first filed in 2005, and I couldn't believe that it even got past the first judge. Talk about frivolous lawsuits. Not that $54 million is frivolous, but over a pair of pants?

It is fitting that the DC Court of Appeals denied this latest appeal, and I hope Pearson does not take it to the Supreme Court. There are more important things for the Justices to consider than giving a man millions of dollars because his pants were lost. Or even because the owners of the dry cleaners tried to pass off a replacement pair and not tell him.

If I remember correctly, once the duplicity was proven, the owners offered to replace the lost pants and apologized, and that should have been sufficient.

In fact, I thought it was, way back then in 2005, and breathed a sigh of relief that the case was settled and gone. So I was shocked to see the news this morning, and I only have one thing to say," Stop wasting the courts' precious time, Mr. Pearson."

Too Cold For Ice Cream?

Here's another funny one from my friend, Tracy Farr.... Check him and the band out at Stinky Creek


Someone actually said to me the other day that it was too cold to have Ice Cream. In that instant, I no longer doubted that space aliens have visited Earth; that they have conducted vicious and vile experiments on members of our population; and those experiments have turned normal, intelligent people into completely useless slugs.

Too cold for Ice Cream? Is that even proper English? Isn’t there some rule about not ending a sentence with “ice cream” unless it’s preceded by the phrase, “Would you like a bowl of...”?

Saying it is too cold for Ice Cream is like saying it’s “too hot to go swimming,” or saying you’re “too sick to go to the doctor,” or saying “I’m too cheap to buy a new digital TV that televises the same old junk but in high-definition.” (Hmmm...I’ll cogitate on that one for a moment while you go look up the word “cogitate”)

You may think I’m nuts – join the club; they have monthly meetings – but I totally believe that Ice Cream will be the No. 1 commodity that will keep our economy afloat.

Point No. 1 – American auto executives have spent quite a bit of time in front of congressional hearings asking for money to help keep their companies viable. Have you seen Ben & Jerry knocking on White House doors, begging for cash? Heavens no!

Point No. 2 – Viacom has let go 850 employees; Target 1,500; AT&T has slashed 12,000 jobs. How many Jersey Cows have you seen standing in an unemployment line because Blue Bell gave them the pink slip? Zippo!

Point No. 3 – Goodies has recently closed stores; Starbucks is scaling back; Circuit City has filed for bankruptcy; and banks all over the world are scrambling to keep their doors open and their investments sound. Has Baskin-Robbins made any announcements about reducing the number of flavors they offer? C’mon, you know the answer to that one.

Everything from electronics, to cars, the housing market, retirement plans, travel, and pizza delivery has been affected in one way or the other by the recent downturn in our economy. It’s Ice Cream that has remained strong and growing, and it is Ice Cream that is now the safest investment in these troubled times.

So, my fellow Americans, you can sit on your duffs and let your life savings burn off like morning fog if you want to, but as for me, I’m cashing in my portfolio and sinking my dividends right smack in the middle of a gallon carton of Double Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream. It might be a bit messy, but I’ll know my money is in the safest place on the planet.

The Daily Spittoon -- We'll never ask for a government bailout!

The Great Monkey Debate

Unless you've been lost on a desert island for the past week, you have heard about the furor over the NY Post cartoon that has raised the ire of many African Americans. The NAACP has called for the firing of the cartoonist and protesters said that Rupert Murdoch, owner of the Post should be put in jail.

The cartoon showed a gunned-down chimp and one police officer says, "They'll have to find someone else to write the next stimulus bill."

Immediately it was decided by all the protesters that the cartoonist meant this as a jab to President Obama and likened him to a chimp. A reference to monkeys that has, in the past, been an intentional slap in the face for blacks.

My question to all the folks who made that synaptic leap, is why? Assuming what someone else meant is not often correct. When we assign motives, we keep alive all the negative stereotypes that have plagued us for centuries.

Quite frankly, I'd forgotten that referring to black people as monkeys had once been used to insult and humiliate them. When I first read the cartoon, I thought the connection the cartoonist was making was to the advisors who helped draft the stimulus package: That some of them did not have the brains of a chimp. I never made the connection to President Obama until the protests started.

Last Friday, two Dallas Morning News columnists, James Ragland and Steve Blow, debated the issue in a combined column. The writers, one black and one white, have a continuing series, Talking Race, in which they tackle current issues. James ended his section by saying that he doesn't think folks should tell black people to "just get over it" when they are upset about a broad slight.

If I can be so bold -- without getting crucified -- maybe they should.

Reacting to slights only gives them more power. This is something I learned when "getting over" things that were emotionally harmful to me. We cannot allow the past to control us. We have to make conscious decisions not to act out of the bitterness or sense of defeat that comes from getting mad because of a percieved insult.

Which doesn't mean I advocate sitting back and letting racism happen. On the contrary, when it is a clear case of racist behavior, then we all -- black and white and red and brown -- need to voice our objections and work toward eradicating bigotry. We just have to make sure it is an intentional act, and not just a knee-jerk reaction to something.

Feline Friends

Our dog needs a canine friend. Seriously, what would her family think if they saw her cavorting with all these cats? Poppy is half Border Collie and half Australian Shepard. She should be herding sheep, not cats. But I guess in the absence of sheep, cats will do.

Poppy likes to play with John -- the big cream colored cat. But with Misty, pictured here, she just likes to lie down in the sun and maybe trade a few licks. Misty likes to rub all over Poppy before settling down for a nap.

The only cat Poppy doesn't have much to do with is Orca. Maybe because of his name? Which is too bad because Orca really is a sweet, loving cat.

I wish these pictures had turned out better. I was taking them through a window --- obviously -- and didn't notice how bad the reflection was until I loaded the pictures on my computer. By then, the animals had moved so there was no way to get another shot.

Oh well....

Liar, Liar, Pants on fire...

Here's another guest blog from my funny friend Tracy Farr. If he ever stops writing these, I will be in trouble when I don't have anything to blog about.


I hate to admit it, but I’m a liar. I would say I’m a big, fat liar, but that would also be a lie. I’m more of a short and chunky liar – not that there’s much difference.

What have a lied about recently? Well, it’s possible that a couple of weeks ago I implied that I might have taken down my Christmas tree, packed it away, never to be seen again until Christmas ’09, and I did it during halftime of the Super Bowl. Well, I didn’t actually watch the Super Bowl, and I didn’t actually take down my tree.

Actually, there’s no “actually” about it. I didn’t do either.

You see, when you’re such a cheapskate like I am – a cheapskate who refuses to shell out big bucks for cable or satellite, just to watch a whole lot of nothing on a 25-year-old analog TV that’s about to die a digital death, and you’re to cheap to buy a “new and improved” TV that will probably only last a couple of years because they don’t make ‘em like they used to – well, people think you’re nuts. And then when you add to the mix not watching the Super Bowl, they KNOW you’re nuts and seem to steer clear of you whenever you’re around.

There’s only one more thing a person needs in order to be eligible for a one-way ticket to the Funny Farm: being the only person alive on the planet who still has their Christmas tree up – in February. So, I lied about it – which makes it all downright pathetic.

And I know exactly what you’re thinking right now. You’re thinking, “I don’t know how his family puts up with that.” “Do you think his kids know they have a nut job for a father?” “It can’t be hereditary because his parents are good people who have cable and have all their Christmas stuff up in the attic.” “I’ve always wondered why Robert’s girlfriend, Rachel, never stops by to visit – and now I know.” “You don’t think it’s catching, do you?” “Most likely not, but I’d wash my hands if I were you.”

Well, you probably won’t believe me (and I don’t blame you), but I spent this past Saturday taking down the Christmas tree – ornaments and all. I’d show you a picture to prove it, but you’d probably think I doctored it somehow.

Anyways, I know this is a lousy excuse for a story, but I’ve heard confession is good for the soul. And now that I’ve confessed, I feel a lot better! Don’t you?

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The Daily Spittoon -- Done completely by hand!

Spring is springing up all over....

Here in East Texas the daffodils are popping up in glorious splendor. Many people have planted the lovely flowers in bright yellows and pale pinks, but they also grow wild in fields and pastures and alongside the road.

Texas is known for the bluebonnets, which will be out in April, but I like the early gift of daffodils just as much. Some fields are yellow as far as the eye can see, and it does make one pause to enjoy.

These pictures were taken about a mile from my house. The flowers are under an oak tree that is about 300 years old.

The Ancient Perils of Writing

Remember writing with a typewriter? Some of us do, and you you younger folks will just have to do a Google search for "typewriter" to see what one looked like.

I unearthed an old column I'd written when my trusty old typewriter gave up the ghost. That was back when I was writing a weekly humor column for a suburban newspaper. Most of the stories were about family life, but now and then I'd write something about the writing life.

This one's good for a chuckle if you have a moment to visit another blog where I was a guest today. http://mizging.blogspot.com/

That is a blog site for author Ginger Simpson. She has started something new she's calling Tourist Thursdays, when she hosts a guest. Ginger is a gracious friend, and I really appreciate how willing she is to help other authors.

A Little Bit of Humor

As we all know, writers are by nature very insecure people, especially in the early years when perhaps the only thing we get published is a letter to the editor and that’s cut from four paragraphs to three lines. In fact, for years basic insecurity was the only thing I had to affirm my credibility as a writer.

But even in my moment of greatest anxiety, I never reached the heights (or should I say the depths) of insecurity as did Glenda Gibberish. She wrote an entire book on squares of toilet tissue and hid each page in an empty roll. When her husband, Harry, asked about all the cardboard cylinders lining the dresser, Glenda told him she was making toys for the gerbils. That worked well until he decided to take an interest in the welfare of the pets. She lost one whole chapter in a single afternoon.

Realizing that would never do, Glenda resorted to stuffing the rolls in her underwear drawer, in the empty cookie jar, and in the springs of the old sofa bed. She figured she was safe since she put her own clothes away and nobody ever bothered with the cookie jar since she never baked. But she forgot about her mother-in-law’s visit. Oddly enough, the other woman said nothing when they unfolded the bed, but Harry gave her one of those looks that we women enjoy so much. Then he surprised the gerbils with new toys.

This ruse went on for years and she couldn’t bring herself to tell a soul that she was writing. Then one day she was hit with this overwhelming urge to “out” herself. It was the same compulsion that drives a dieter to a banana split at Dairy Queen and try as she might Glenda couldn’t shake it. So she had lunch with her best friend and broke the news.

“Oh, no. Is it serious?”

“Not right now, but it could be.”

“How long... I mean, have you been this way forever?”

“Since I was a little girl. But, you know. It isn’t the kind of thing you just drop into casual conversation.”

“Good. Maybe we can keep it from getting around.”

“Don’t worry. I have plenty of editors looking out for me on that count.”

“Have you told Harry yet?”

“No. But he did wonder about the sudden demise of Jake the gerbil. I think he choked on a particularly graphic sex scene.”

“Harry?”

“No. The gerbil.”

“How have you managed to keep it from Harry?”

“Right now, I tell him I’m going into the closet to straighten up a few things. But that’s not going to last long. Sooner or later he’s going to remember that I don’t like to straighten anything.”

“Don’t worry. You can trust me with your secret.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you told a few people. My book comes out next month and I need the publicity.”

Get outta My Space!

Years ago I used to fight with my kids for my sacred space to write in. I had a room that was called my study where I had a desk and a typewriter --- yeah, I started writing in the dark ages. Problem was, the study soon became the room where stuff was stored when nobody knew where else to put it. So I would have an odd assortment of boxes and bins and things stacked in and around the desk and filing cabinet that made finding my space a challenge.

Then if we had company, either the company stayed in the office and slept on the sofa bed or one of the kids did. First obstacle to overcome was finding the sofa bed under the piles of things "stored" in the office. Then came the challenge of figuring out if it was an invasion of a guest's privacy if I went into the study now and then to work.

Now that the kids are grown and out of the house, I have an office all to myself. Or at least I thought I did, until the cats decided they would like to share the space with me.

Wait. Did I say "share?"

The cat's have taken over the space.

This week, John has decided that he will help me with my writing. He has taken over half of my desk, and periodically reaches down to play with the mouse or keyboard.

Misty, our calico, took over my office chair weeks ago, and she does not know the meaning of "share" either. She glowers at me when I move her so I can sit down. Then she jumps up behind me and pushes on my back to get me to move.

The last time one of the kids came to visit, he laughed because my office chair was rolled aside and I had a kitchen chair in front of my desk. When I told him why, he asked why I didn't just move the cat.

I glowered at him.

Winning

I must say I enjoyed yesterday's Super Bowl more than I have others in recent history. Unless the Cowboy's play, I usually don't care a whole lot who wins, but yesterday I was pulling for the Cardinals. There was something endearing about the fact that halfway through the season they were the last team anyone expected to take the field on Superbowl Sunday.

From the storybook history of Kurt Warner to the come-from-behind wins in the playoffs that were reminiscent of vintage Cowboys plays and "Hail Mary" passes, it was exciting to watch this team fight their way to the big game. And it was exciting to watch them fight so hard to make up a first-half deficit and come so close to winning in the last few minutes of the game.

What was evident on the field was teamwork and heart. The Cardinals came to the game knowing they were considered a long-shot to win, but they didn't let that keep them from giving it their all.

We can all take a lesson from that, I think. There are times we all face what seems like insurmountable odds to achieve a goal and give up before we even start. Maybe we'd be better off to just put the blinders on and forge ahead. Sometimes winning doesn't mean having the highest score.

Who ate the candy?

It's been a hectic week and I haven't had time to work, let alone think about blogging. Was dealing with some health issues with my husband, and things are finally settling down just a bit. Hopefully, it will stay that way for a while.

Without wanting to bore readers with details of hospital visits, etc, I thought I would dust off one of my old columns. When our children were young, I wrote a humorous column for a suburban newspaper for a number of years and the following is one of those columns.....

On any number of occasions, mothers are faced with asking their kids a certain type of unanswerable question such as; who ate the last cookie and put the empty package back in the cabinet? Or who took the quarter off the counter? Or who wrote the dirty words on the wallpaper in the kitchen?

Getting a straight answer can prove to be more complicated and frustrating than trying to sort out the Whitewater mess. In fact, when my kids were young, I would have tackled Whitewater any day over "Who took the gum out of my purse?"

When I had to ask the "who did" question, my kids would react in one of two ways. Either they'd be stricken with some kind of mental dysfunction that rendered them speechless, or they'd cast about for someone they might possibly get away with blaming.

I think this is a talent that kids are born with that may hearken back to some instinct for survival and some are much better at it than others.

While I had a certain maternal pride in the abilities of my kids to find a 'scapegoat,' they had a long way to go to match the aplomb of a friend's three year-old. One day he'd been out playing with his older brother, and when he came back in my friend noticed a particular odor as he passed by.

As delicately as possible she asked, "Did you have an accident in your pants?"

"No. John did it."

Now that's quick thinking at its best.

In fact, this kid had such a reputation no one believed him. Not even when he insisted for an entire day that he had not eaten his older sister's candy bar. "It was Mommy. I swear."

"Sure," the sister said. "Like Mom would really do that."

Can you imagine how embarrassing it is to admit to your six year-old that you needed a sudden chocolate fix and hers was the only candy in the house?

Luckily, my daughter never asked what happened to the last piece of candy from her first-grade Valentine's party.

Guest Blog

Another guest blog from my friend, Tracy Farr. This guy needs to do stand-up comedy.

Why all the fuss?

Would somebody please tell me why it is necessary to wash off the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher to be washed? You save all your life for that wonderful house full of modern appliances that are supposed to make your life easier, but you still have to scrub the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher. At least, that’s how it is in my house. And frankly, I think it’s a bit insane.

When I ask my wife why we have to do something so redundant, she gives me that you're-just-a-guy look and points her finger in the “get out of my kitchen” direction. But I think it's a legitimate question.

Do people warm up their leftover casserole in the oven before they heat it up in the microwave? I think not! Do people put their ice trays in the refrigerator to cool the water off before they put it in the freezer to make ice? Hardly! Is there a person alive who holds a piece of bread over an open flame to pre-toast the bread before they put it in the toaster? You’ve got to be kidding! So why do we have to pre-wash the dishes before sticking them in a machine that’s supposed to wash them?

There is no reason why a dishwasher should not be able to do the job it was meant do, unless it's not a dishwasher problem, but instead – dare I say it – it’s a WOMAN problem.

WARNING: The following drivel is pure, 100 percent, male sexist propaganda that may cause my untimely death; but hey, you only live once!

Is it possible that we pre-wash dishes because women feel guilty about having a convenience that their mothers and grandmothers didn't have? Is it possible that women don't trust the dishwasher to get their dishes squeaky clean because it was invented by a man who probably never washed a dish in his life? Or is it possible that women just worry too much about little things like bits of dried food on a supposedly clean dish?

I think all you women folk out there should lighten up and wash the dishes the “I’m Just A Guy” way. Just throw those dishes in the machine, watch some NASCAR or change the oil in your car while you wait. Then when the dishes are done, toss those suckers into the cabinet. And if there is a bit of dried pork chops left on the plate, don't worry about it! Just cover it up with a big spoonful of casserole at your next meal. Nobody will know the difference.

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The Daily Spittoon -- Done completely by hand!

Dying Trees

I spent the morning today burning brush from several trees that were taken down because they were dead. A neighbor took the large pieces of trunk to be chipped for mulch, but I had to do something with all the brush left behind. Started to pile it up to haul to a big pile by my burn pit, then decided to just leave it where it was and have a bonfire.

The tree had come down in a large area of our driveway that is all rock and iron ore. A great place to burn without setting the whole place on fire. Of course, that did make it tricky to back out from the car port. Had to maneuver around a couple of trees and run across the one little patch of grass we call a lawn. But we managed. And now there is nothing left, but a pile of ash.

We have quite a few trees dying and it makes me sad to see them come down. Probably have lost about 30 since we've been here. They have bugs and are also suffering from the years of drought we had.

I do organic gardening and have tried to save some of the trees around the house with some treatment and special care, but there is no way I can deal with all the trees on our property. There has to be a couple of hundred at least.

If any organic gardeners have suggestions, I'd be glad to get them.

The Day After

Just like the changing of the year from one to the next, the changing of a presidential name takes some time to get used to. Several times today as I was updating WinnsboroToday.com with news, I had to stop and remind myself to write "President Obama" as opposed to "President Bush".

I suppose in time I will get used to it. It only took me two weeks to stop writing 2008 and get with the current year.

But Obama is not having trouble getting used to being president. He really hit the floor running today, and it will be interesting to see where he takes us in the near future, as well as for the long haul.

Last night, a group of about 30 people gathered here in East Texas at a coffee shop, Art & Espresso, that is owned by The Winnsboro Gallery We were there to celebrate the inauguration and it was interesting that not everyone had voted for Obama. But everyone came to show their support, which I thought was particualarly nice.

I also thought it was particularly nice that despite the fact that millions of people were crowded into the Mall area in Washington on that freezing January day to watch the swearing in, there was not one outbreak of anger or violence. No protests. No hate. Nothing ugly.

Gosh, could this mean that we are finally learning how to get along?

If Obama accomplishes nothing else in his presidency, the fact that he has set a high standard of personal integrity will be a fitting legacy. Let's just hope we continue to strive to live up to it.

Making History

Tomorrow is an exciting day in history as we witness the swearing in of our new president, Barack Obama. It marks a great milestone for Americans, some of whom refused to let an African American into a school, let alone 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

That we have come this far is a great testament to the willingness of most people to expand their world view and let go of old prejudices and biases.

Not that everyone has done so. I still hear comments that make me stop and check the calendar to make sure we are not back in 1950. But, thankfully, the people who still hold so rigidly to the stereotypes and misconceptions about people different from them are becoming more and more of a minority themselves.

And because of that, America will have its first African American president. Not that everyone who voted for him did so because it was an opportunity to seat a black man. I know I certainly didn't. I voted for him because he was the best person for the job, in my opinion, and the fact that he was also on the threshold of making history was an added benefit.

I hope as we move forward that Obama receives the support he needs from Congress and the general public. And I hope that every American can mark the day, Tuesday, January 20, 2009, in some special way.

Here in my little corner of the Piney Woods of East Texas, we are going to have an Inaugural Bash, where we will gather to watch the festivities from Washington and celebrate.

Age is Just a Frame of Mind

Another guest blog from funny guy Tracy Farr. You gotta love a guy who can poke fun at himself like this......

Whoa, Baby! I just bought one of those iPod Touch things, and it's NICE! Fits in the pocket, it's easy to carry around, I can listen to a gazillion songs without ever having to flip over a tape or change CDs, and I should be over the moon, but I'm not, because I get the distinct impression that "some people around here" think I'm "too old" to have one just because I recently had a birthday.

And why would I say such a thing?

ROBERT (My youngest son): You got WHAT?
ME (guy with no hair and grey beard): An iPod Touch!
ROBERT: And you got it because...?
ME: I can, mister. Because I can!
ROBERT: And what kind of music do you plan to put on it?
ME: All my polka music. I'm going to call it "My iPolka."
I laughed, he didn't
ROBERT: I think an iPod Touch may be too advanced for you. Maybe I should look it over first, set it up for you, maybe even take it back with me to college to give it a thorough going-over! I wouldn't want you to get all discouraged because you paid a lot of money for something you might not be able to comprehend.

You see? I should be happy, but now I'm feeling just plain old. And he's not the only one giving me grief about my age. I recently received the following message from my cousin, Cynda, who lives in Colorado.

"Hey, old man. Isn't today the day you get another year older & (supposedly) another year wiser? How does it feel to be staring the big 5-0 in the eye? Don't worry, just remember I get there before you so I can guide you through. LOL. Happy Birthday TD. Make it a great one!"

Is that the kind of message that's supposed to make one happy about being a year older, but not a year richer? I think not, and neither do you! So, I sent her the following reply:

"Hey old man? What's with that? And did you say another year older...and wiser? Are you implying I was pert near dumber than a rock yesterday, but now that I'm a day older, I'm more intelligent? Doesn't that imply the only thing I have to look forward to in 2009 is that I'll be smarter in 2010? Is that what you're trying to say?

And for your information I am NOT staring the big 5-0 in the eye. I may be looking at its waist (and I must say something needs to be done about it before it crowds out everybody in the room), but I am NOT staring at it in the eye.

And what's with this LOL? Does that mean Lot's of Luck? Licking On Lollipops? Look Out Larry? (which is probably what Moe and Curly would scream). I just don't understand!"

Yessiree! That's what I wrote. But getting back to the iPod, I thought for a moment I was going to have to take it back because I was only hearing the music in mono. It was playing in one ear, but not the other. I was quite a bit upset because I paid all that money to buy a cheap thing that doesn't even work. Luckily, I found the solution to my problem - you've got to use BOTH earphones, and not just one.

Okay, maybe I AM too old to comprehend this thing.

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The Daily Spittoon -- Stooping to any level to bring you the news

Good Friends

Poppy, the dog, and John, having fun on the front deck. Didn't realize until just now looking at the picture, but the cat looks almost as big as the dog. And the dog is a border collie - Aussie mix. She is not a small dog. But then, John is not a small cat.

He is definitely bigger than our other dog, Misha, who is a mix of Pekingese and Dachshund. When we got John, we called him Little John. A variation of Little One, because he was such a cute little kitten.

Ha!

Now he is the king of the castle, intimidating all the other animals. Even Poppy stays clear of his claws, although John swears he is only playing.

Our son captioned this picture: "Aw, someone needs a hug."

Our son- in law captioned it: "Would you quit touching me."

Which caption do you like best?