Posted on August 15th, 2014 No comments
I am in a major selling mood. This car is going on Sunday and I will finally start to own fewer things. I have this vision of only having one blank room and a chair when I finish getting rid of things that take up space and arent either useful or wanted. OK I love old cars but how many can you drive or even work on or enjoy?
I’ve got ‘em and haven’t written much lately, just don’t feel like it. This may be a relief for my friend Richard, a famous comedian, who lives in Los Angeles and claims to love my blog before his head drops down and he goes to sleep. I wish his comedy had the same affect on me but I have to admit he is a genius (of sorts).
Anyway I do get a lot of contributions most of which I don’t post so I will post a few below. I get two poems a week, one from my older brother and one from a close friend who took early retirement from IBM to become a writer and now a poet. My brother’s tend to be reminiscences of periods long gone. He is ten years older than I am, and Frank’s poems are often very dark and not depressing but sadly realistic. I will post the poems I received this week.
My rival blogger seems to have cooled down also. The last blog had to do with his tick bite and his sunburned hands on his fishing boat because he forgot that you can’t go in the sun when you ore on Doxiciline. He does have a new boat which looks impressive but not to me.
Lauren, who is a friend, and yes invented reality TV!!! has a weekly news blog on woman’s issues which seems to be going from good to better and she is piling up readers by the thousands. Her blog address is lzsundaypaper.com and I recommend it for great and interesting reading on the subject of woman’s issues, tech issues and a whole lot of other subjects. She’s not fooling around.
are a simple, convenient, fast
method of sending a message
by actually writing it
(using a pencil, marker or pen)
on a stiff paper card
on which you glue a ‘stamp’
then dropping that card
into a metal box
from which a person in blue
will pick it up
and send it by physical means
to its destination
The Century’s Wars
I’m not good at birthdates
but have always remembered my stepfather’s,
for his was the day
the Great War ended.
We have a photo of him in France,
on a hill overlooking the Rhine,
a tall, clean shaven, young marine
in breeches, boots and campaign hat
hands on hips, legs spread,
seeming to tower like a monument
over the river’s far bank.
There’s another photo of him,
carbine in hand,
soiled battle fatigues,
helmet with chin strap hanging open,
looking smaller than I’d ever seen him look.
That was the day
his friend’s son died there,
a friend he’d carried
from a battlefield in France.
My loyal readers might remember a few years ago when I thought I lost my cell phone, only to later find in in a cooler along with some frozen birds.
Well a few weeks ago i had to go to California for one day. I was pretty well wiped out when I got back on the plane to come home and somehow my Blackberry disappeared in the plane seat. I waited until the plane emptied and a mechanic and the cleaning crew tried unsuccessfully to find it. For the record they did find all sorts of trash that was never cleaned but no cell phone. Fast forward two weeks. I decided to fly up to the iPhone get all the latest apps and finally give up on the Blackberry company which is barely surviving.
Well I don’t like it, the keyboard touch pad is small and fine if you are a mandolin player, but my fingers can’t get used to it. I can or rather could have returned it for a modest restocking fee until this morning when once again I was on a plane. It slipped from my pocket and once again it disappeared into the seat.
This time I was sure it was somewhere under the seat but couldn’t find it until I brought the seat up from the reclining position and heard a crunching sound. I found the iPhone. It still works but the glass and case are pretty well smashed. This may be the answer for me.
Our local minor league baseball team is called the Harlem Valley Renegades. When they arrived here there was a contest for the name and I submitted the Harlem Valley Dutchmen, which I guess was considered politically incorrect.
Anyway the town built a beautiful stadium over in Fishkill and although it is in deep financial trouble, I fully intend to support the team by attending a game this year, preferably on a hot summer afternoon.
Here is a minor league donnybrook or as Red Barber used to call it, a “real rhubarb.”
My cousin and maybe our farthest regular reader who lives on the Red Sea in Elat, sent the below follow up on the old man who has recreated a Western town on his property:
“Looks like I’m in line for a free year’s subscription.
Kenneth White, the builder of Whiskey Creek Village lives in Elgin, South Carolina.”
I have to make a correction we have reader (s) in Kuala Lampur, Malaysia.
Posted on July 16th, 2014 No comments
Posted on July 14th, 2014 No comments
I watched the World Cup and really enjoyed it. There is the issue of flopping, pretending you are tripped, injured and roll on the field in pain.
Key and Peele are very funny comedians. Here is their version of flopping”
Posted on July 14th, 2014 No comments
I received the following story from one of our readers. I get many comments but because much of it is spam e.g. “I love your blog please buy this vacuum cleaner,” I don’t get to read most comments unless they are emailed to me and not posted on the blog. Enjoy this one.
He is engraved in stone in the National War Memorial in Washington, DC-
Back in a small alcove where very few people have seen it.
For the WWII generation, this will bring back memories.
For you younger folks, it’s a bit of trivia that is a part of our American history.
Anyone born in 1913 to about 1950, is familiar with Kilroy.
No one knew why he was so well known- but everybody seemed to get into it.
So who was Kilroy?
In 1946 the American Transit Association, through its radio program,
“Speak to America ,” sponsored a nationwide contest to find the real Kilroy,
Offering a prize of a real trolley car to the person who could prove himself to be the genuine article.
Almost 40 men stepped forward to make that claim,
But only James Kilroy from Halifax , Massachusetts , had evidence of his identity.
‘Kilroy’ was a 46-year old shipyard worker during the war who worked as
a checker at the Fore River Shipyard in Quincy . His job was to go around
and check on the number of rivets completed. Riveters were on piecework and
got paid by the rivet. He would count a block of rivets and put a check mark
in semi-waxed lumber chalk, so the rivets wouldn’t be counted twice.
When Kilroy went off duty, the riveters would erase the mark.
Later on, an off-shift inspector would come through and count the rivets a second time,
Resulting in double pay for the riveters.
One day Kilroy’s boss called him into his office.
The foreman was upset about all the wages being paid to riveters,
and asked him to investigate. It was then he realized what had been going on.
The tight spaces he had to crawl in to check the rivets didn’t lend themselves
to lugging around a paint can and brush, so Kilroy decided to stick with the waxy chalk.
He continued to put his check mark on each job he inspected, but added ‘KILROY WAS HERE’
in king-sized letters next to the check, and eventually added the sketch of the chap with
The long nose peering over the fence and that became part of the Kilroy message.
Once he did that, the riveters stopped trying to wipe away his marks.
Ordinarily the rivets and chalk marks would have been covered up with paint.
With the war on, however, ships were leaving the Quincy Yard so fast that there
wasn’t time to paint them. As a result, Kilroy’s inspection “trademark” was seen
by thousands of servicemen who boarded the troopships the yard produced.
His message apparently rang a bell with the servicemen,
Because they picked it up and spread it all over Europe and the South Pacific.
Before war’s end, “Kilroy” had been here, there, and everywhere on the long hauls
to Berlin and Tokyo . To the troops outbound in those ships, however, he was
a complete mystery; all they knew for sure was that someone named Kilroy had
“been there first.” As a joke, U.S. Servicemen began placing the graffiti wherever
they landed, claiming it was already there when they arrived.
Kilroy became the U.S. Super-GI who had always “already been” wherever GIs went.
It became a challenge to place the logo in the most unlikely places imaginable
(it is said to be atop Mt. Everest , the Statue of Liberty , the underside of
The Arc de Triomphe, and even scrawled in the dust on the moon.
As the war went on, the legend grew. Underwater demolition teams routinely
sneaked ashore on Japanese-held islands in the Pacific to map the terrain for
Coming invasions by U.S. Troops (and thus, presumably, were the first GI’s there).
On one occasion, however, they reported seeing enemy troops painting over the Kilroy logo!
In 1945, an outhouse was built for the exclusive use of Roosevelt, Stalin,
And Churchill at the Potsdam conference.
Its’ first occupant was Stalin, who emerged and asked his aide (in Russian),
“Who is Kilroy?”
To help prove his authenticity in 1946, James Kilroy brought along officials
from the shipyard and some of the riveters. He won the trolley car, which he
gave to his nine children as a Christmas gift and set it up as a playhouse in
the Kilroy yard in Halifax , Massachusetts .