tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85656825685587432192024-03-05T23:09:51.972-08:00Living, With Wallace ( Reid ) LockhartMusings, memories and more.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-15222623881421171272011-02-22T13:17:00.000-08:002011-02-22T18:57:05.172-08:00Iron is Master of Them All<blockquote>Gold is forthe mistress -- silver for the maid -Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade." <br />
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"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall, "But Iron - Cold Iron -- is master of them all." <br />
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~ Rudyard Kipling<br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: helvetica, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">BEIRUT, Lxebanon, Feb. 22 (UPI) -- Amid a reported bloodbath in Libya and the Arab world in turmoil amid much Western hand wringing about selling weapons to dictatorial Arab regimes, the world's arms dealers are touting their wares at the Middle East's biggest defense exhibition in Abu Dhabi...<a href="http://www.upi.com/Business_News/Security-Industry/2011/02/22/UPI-84581298409611/?fb">more</a>...</span><br />
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There are those who hold private conversations, publicly on the cell-phones. They may be close enough to hear my private conversation, and I might inadvertently hear bit's and pieces of one side of that conversation. It's only reasonable that we tune each other out and go on with our own business. But there's another party, lurking passively in my conversation that I'm not comfortable with; the person on the other end of the cell-phone conversation...<br />
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How do I address that <i>other person</i> as an intruder? I can of course go silent, when someone with a cell-phone gets close. But to do anything more would get close to intruding on another person's reasonable expectations. Clearly, we need a new standard, or etiquette in this new digital age.<br />
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If We, as a People don't establish some code of behavior concerning privacy and free speech the Government is going to do it for us. And we better do it quick, because there are some really confusing laws on the books ( varying from State to State ), and it would seem that many of those laws were crafted in an age where these problems weren't anticipated. Many have noticed that there are some double standards as well.<br />
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How did it come about, that the police can eavesdrop, wire-tap and otherwise over-ride an individuals reasonable expectation of privacy while <a href="http://www.chicagonewscoop.org/eavesdropping-laws-mean-that-turning-on-an-audio-recorder-could-send-you-to-prison/">prosecuting</a> those who use common cell-phones to record common activities involving the police? It seems that the Rights addressed in the Constitution have been perverted, with the effect of limiting the individuals freedoms and at the same time nullifying the restrictions put on Government.<br />
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I can only guess that Law Enforcement has for a long time enjoyed a comfortable measure of control of conversations they have while performing their routine duties, such as a traffic stop. If you add a cell-phone to the situation, they may feel much like I do when a person is standing close ( as I mentioned above ). I can understand that, and I suspect the police officers themselves aren't as hostile to the presence of recording equipment ( cell-phones ) as their superiors seem to be. I think the officers just want their tickets to stick in court.<br />
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This issue is going to be argued in the Court of Public Opinion for quite a while before it gets to the Supreme Court. In the meanwhile, I'm taking a hard look at my own cell-phone habits looking at what's reasonable ( or not ) in the way I behave privately, in public...<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-49590495554359566292011-01-23T00:36:00.000-08:002011-01-23T00:36:18.155-08:00Billy Should Have Kept His Mouth ShutBilly got a surprise visit from the local police the other day, just before he clocked out at the Noodle Factory. Apparently someone took his words a bit more serious than he would have liked, or perhaps they reacted different than he expected.<br />
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"If I don't get that promotion to lead man, I'm come in here and shoot a bunch of folks!"<br />
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The next morning, everyone was watching to see if Billy showed up for work, whether he was fired, or maybe even in jail. He showed, and the plant has something to talk about for quite a while. It's not been but a few days since a man took a gun and shot a lot of people down in Arizona, and with those stories still playing in the News Media folks were really wondering how the local law was going to deal with threats of mass violence.<br />
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Is Billy a nut? No, he's a blow-hard. Is he dangerous? No, not unless you walk behind his fork-lift while he's busy. Is he going to lose his hunting privileges? Quite likely.<br />
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So, what to do now? Is it the Company's duty to point this red-neck to a shrink? Should his friends get closer, and try to figure out what's going on in his head, at home, or in his life that would push him to be so...stupid? Or should everyone at work shy away, and let him deal with this on his own? I like the guy, and really like the venison he shares with his friends so I think I'll keep him as a friend....<br />
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You probably will never read about the incident in the papers. I suspect this sort of thing goes on a lot around the world, and goes unreported.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-15028839354295404122011-01-22T22:14:00.000-08:002011-01-22T22:14:22.863-08:00Tax Returns, It's the Stimulation Stupid!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTt6z-4sPi2TqIsdYKhNeytf8G1ZtDlaU4LLgBrLUvVbh0tKD6TK5oLhnVWhmZhz3N8yZfrzQMQPoM0Y6LTi5KRqlInD2vPRINRocEvKVutUBhBWM-zik91o_8uC1GuR0pMR6KISJb0Rj/s1600/300px-IRS.svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTt6z-4sPi2TqIsdYKhNeytf8G1ZtDlaU4LLgBrLUvVbh0tKD6TK5oLhnVWhmZhz3N8yZfrzQMQPoM0Y6LTi5KRqlInD2vPRINRocEvKVutUBhBWM-zik91o_8uC1GuR0pMR6KISJb0Rj/s200/300px-IRS.svg.png" width="200" /></a></div>A low fire has been burning in me for nearly a year now. It's been that long since I last filed my Federal Taxes.<br />
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Things have changed a lot over the decades that I've been filing. I started forty years ago, when I was in High-School. I can remember taking a class that taught us about all the forms, starting with the simple 1040. Today, I still file that simple form because...well...my taxes and income pretty damn simple to figure.<br />
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I give the Guberment a chunk of my money each week, they hold onto it ( sorta like a loan ) until they figure out that I don't owe them very much because...well I don't earn very much! So what's the point? Stimulation Stupid..<br />
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I know I'm stimulated, I get this way every January. Just thinking about all my bucks coming back ( well...most of them ) gets my blood pumping. Even though I know most of the Return will go to paying bills and such, I know there's going to be enough this year to buy something I've wanted for several years.<br />
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I want a knew computer! And that's the attitude that stimulates the National Economy. I know I'm not the only one anticipating an opportunity to walk into a high-dollar retail store and flop down some big bucks on the latest and greatest appliance. Half the Nation is going on a spending bing in the next month or two. That's got to help the economy a little bit.<br />
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And I'm more than happy to do my small part...being a good citizen and all that...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-79648284750396555252011-01-09T17:02:00.000-08:002011-01-09T17:02:39.379-08:00Back to Work in a New YearI'm leaving for work at the Noodle Factory in a few hours, and I am actually looking forward to seeing those folks. Vacation was just what I needed to pump my motivation up. More than a week idle has given me new energy and even new hope that this New Year will be better than the last. I surely hope so.<br />
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I don't expect to be very busy for the next few months at the Noodle Factory, as we have just finished our busy season. Now is the time to check the inventory, pull maintenance and clean, clean clean! It takes a lot of cleaning to keep a food processing plant running.<br />
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My wife will no doubt be happy to see me leaving the house, we've both been shacked up for most of the last week or so. She is used to having the place to her self for eight or nine hours every day, and me being at work lets her do all those wonderful and important thing she enjoys like; watching Oprah, The View and such. Blah...<br />
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She'll also enjoy using her computer while I'm gone, as mine broke last week and she's been kind enough to let me use her lap-top. Now she can play all those on-line games with her inter-net buddies for hours on end! Go girl! You know you love it!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-15056545274931115192011-01-06T03:26:00.000-08:002011-01-06T04:54:06.064-08:00He Didn't Burn Wood Anymore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZaxqXK7-DLM4ooH1VCZm125I7TzWSIuwwFXYAWC2ZJMRnufh7eji3B-QGx-JVvA9x9fKp6AQs_Be-cA3jLyPFXIxsrI-ONFOP3BeuhU8f8cDMUs371fWSS2JsDuzlkMsNCRk_6nPteY/s1600/IMG_1313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZaxqXK7-DLM4ooH1VCZm125I7TzWSIuwwFXYAWC2ZJMRnufh7eji3B-QGx-JVvA9x9fKp6AQs_Be-cA3jLyPFXIxsrI-ONFOP3BeuhU8f8cDMUs371fWSS2JsDuzlkMsNCRk_6nPteY/s320/IMG_1313.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We cut this wood from trees that once stood along the lane to his old pasture, and stacked it along the fence. We would have stacked it outside of his door, but he didn't burn wood anymore.<br />
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He had acres and more acres of wood, and an excellent stove that he had burned his own wood in for decades. But no more, as his insurance company pretty much forbid him to keep a fire. They said it was too risky.<br />
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An old man without a fire, and with wood to burn.<br />
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My Grandfather didn't live long after that, no wood to cut, carry and stack. No ashes to spread over the garden on those snow covered winter days. His axe was a part of him, and his woods were a part of his life too. And that old stove was surely the center of his existence.<br />
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Grandma had her chair, and sat at a distance from the stove that was comfortable for her. The grandchildren, and their children had their on comfortable spots too. We played at our Grandparents feet, and learned to respect that old man's authority over his stove, that farm and our family. It was a most natural order of life. And it's end seemed so unnatural, when he was forbidden to have a fire in his own home.<br />
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Our home, and our family lost it's flame soon after.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-1692497524967378622010-12-24T12:23:00.000-08:002010-12-24T12:23:55.615-08:00Merry Christmas!I'm going out into the snow today, it's Christmas Eve. It's a very special day people.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-73791169596781768732010-05-13T15:12:00.000-07:002010-05-14T08:15:43.561-07:00Take Her Out to the Ball Game<span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://monodogamous.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/1M/397"><img border="0" class="alignleft" src="http://images.monodogamous.multiply.com/image/ejhK2fNuJqEre-Um60LVLQ/photos/1M/300x300/397/Matt-Holiday-in-the-outfield-St-Louis-Cardinal-game.jpg?et=0l9mZPp0xeNL0JrRFrtG%2Bw&nmid=0" /></a></span><br />
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<span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://monodogamous.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/1M/397"></a>My sister Graduated from the Southern Illinois University this week! We're really proud of her, especially because she decided to go back to school so many years later.</span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto">Melissa attended the SIU over thirty years ago, and we shared a trailer for a semester. I studied math and and science, she studied English. Life has a way of side-tracking us from our goals, she went her way and I went mine. Neither of us got our degrees...</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto">But, when she bought a home near the campus, she decided to finish what she had started so long ago. And now she's done it! Caps, gowns and all of that!</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto">Our niece decided to celebrate the event by taking Melissa to baseball game in St Louis. Both are huge Cardinal fans. This is a pic my niece posted on Facebook ( ok, I snagged it ! ). The Cards lost the game, but that didn't bother the girls too much. </span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="insertedphoto">Congratulations Melissa!</span></div><div class="multiply:no_crosspost"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-47994230500988607722010-04-19T05:51:00.000-07:002010-05-14T08:17:14.275-07:00Passing the Hat for RogerThe hat made it's way from table to table in the break area, half filled ( or half empty? ) with dollar bills. It was payday and several whispered remarks echoed the sentiment, "I wish I had more but I haven't cashed my check yet, will you be doing this again next week?" I put my dollar in the hat as my thoughts drifted back to the many days Roger and I had worked together.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>He enjoyed working, and his attitude was encouraging to all of those around him. Rare was the day that I didn't see him in the break area or the parking lot with his hands full of cd's, t-shirts or something to sell. The man was forever busy, and looking to make a dollar. And he was honest.</div><div><br />
</div><div>They found Roger <a href="http://www.thesouthern.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_ab3637ca-4848-11df-8971-001cc4c03286.html">face down in a ditch</a> last week, with a bullet in the back of his head. The police have found the van he used to shuttle workers from Jackson County to the Pasta Plant were he had worked until he started his own shuttle company. No one heard the shot, no one in the neighborhood knew Roger. Those who live in that Housing Project are tight lipped. </div><div><br />
</div><div>He was a Family Man, Christian, Conservative and black. I didn't capitalize the word black, because I don't think Roger would have liked that. Roger was a Business Man that just happened to be born black in a white community. </div><div><br />
</div><div>There's a big hole where Roger used to stand. No one is sure how this happened ( yet ), but we all know there will be hell to pay when the truth does come out ( and it will ). It's going to be a long hot summer here. The heat is on.</div><div><br />
</div><div>It's Monday, and I've had time to think about all of this. I'll be talking to Marge, she was the last passenger Roger dropped off, and one of the last to speak with him. She will have the hat, and I'll have a few more dollars to send to his family. She may also have some news. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="multiply:no_crosspost"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-60925396392099407232010-04-09T14:29:00.000-07:002010-04-09T19:11:57.733-07:00Junior Has a New Home There was a knock at the door about an hour ago, and now one of my pups has left for his new home. Not far away, but not close by either.<div><br></div><div>Junior was the second of four to go, and I know the remaining two will go sooner or later. There just isn't room here for them. Room in our hearts, space in our fenced yard, but the house just isn't big enough. He'll be going to an older couple's home just outside of town, where he'll have the room and love he deserves and needs. That's all good, but I miss him already.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm not going to pick favorites anymore, and I'm not going to name them either. They're whelped here, weaned here, and then they go away. They don't usually go far, and we nearly always keep in touch with their new owners. That's what brought the knock to our door, a lady with one of our pups brought an old friend of hers to us because her friend's husband had lost his dog the other day ( he doesn't know that he's getting a puppy yet ). I hope he keeps the name <i>Junior.</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>I'm going to find out her husband's name tomorrow ( probably Bubba, Boo, or Billy-Bob ). I have no idea why some hulking, red-neck, back-hoe driving dude would ever want a wiener dog...but it doesn't matter because I'm not doing this anymore. Two more pups, and that's it for me. <div><br></div><div> </div></div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-75374214370198742732010-01-23T16:59:00.000-08:002010-01-23T22:27:14.567-08:00A Marvelous Game I've been playing a marvelous game on-line for the last month or so. <a href="http://tribalwars.net/">Tribal Wars</a> seems to be all about conquest, exploitation and domination. Marvelous! <div><br></div><div>Starting with a village that supplies you with resources ( wood, clay and iron ), and building an army to pillage the resources of neighboring barbarian villages ( those that aren't blessed with a tyrant such as myself ) so that you can research and develop more and better soldiers and weapons to explore and exploit more distant villages. Marvelous!</div><div><br></div><div>When you're secure in your military strength, feel free to attack other tyrants! Or, if your not so secure join them in a larger quest against even larger groups of villages ( Tribes ). Marvelous!</div><div><br></div><div>I did well in the first several weeks, exploiting, building and researching to the point where it seemed worthwhile to join a tribe and take the game to a higher level. It took about a week for the tribe and I to get to know enough about each other, and then wham, they turned on me and decimated my original village. Not so Marvelous...</div><div><br></div><div>But that's ok, I've learned a valuable lesson; it's not by honorable conquest and subjugation of barbarians alone that elevates a tyrant. One needs to treacherous and conniving as well. I suspect that the greatest reward from this marvelous game will be the opportunity to slip a dagger in the back of my closest ( and most powerful ) ally. Marvelous!</div><div><br></div><div>All things considered <a href="http://tribalwars.net/">Tribal Wars</a> provides a marvelous provides a marvelous alternative to reading the news about the real world, and real people. Damn Marvelous! </div><div><br></div><div><br></div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-15531674633281923652010-01-16T17:04:00.000-08:002010-01-16T22:55:09.164-08:00A Stew Without Onions I've been following several conversations on several Multiply Groups that remind me of a story I heard years ago; A lady wanted to make a stew, so she set off to the Grocery Store with a list; <ul><li>potatoes,</li><li>tomatoes,</li><li>onions,</li><li>carrots and </li><li>stew meat.</li></ul> She found nearly everything with no problems, but could not find any onions. She asked the kid that was stocking the shelf in the Produce Section if there were any onions.<div><div><br></div><div>The polite young man shook his head and told her the truck wouldn't be in till the next day. Disappointed, the lady took everything ( minus the onions ) to the check-out counter and asked the clerk the same question.</div><div><br></div><div>She got the same polite answer, with the advice that she should come back the next day. She went home disappointed and very frustrated. On a whim she called the Grocery Store on the telephone and was connected with the manager of the store, and asked him about the onions.</div><div><br></div><div>Although the manager was having a very bad day, with trucks being late and customers complaining, he was very diplomatic in his response to the lady's repeated question. </div><blockquote>Q: "Ma'am, if you take the <b>Po </b>out of <b>potato</b>, what do you have left?"<br>A: "Well young man, I suppose you'd have <b>tato</b>."</blockquote><blockquote>Q: "That's right ma'am, and if you took the <b>to</b> out of <b>tomato</b> what would you have left?"<br>A: "I suppose you'd have <b>mato</b>..."</blockquote><blockquote>Q; "That's correct ma'am, just one more question. If you took the <b>F</b> out of <b>Onion</b>, what would you have?<br>A: "Well...I really don't know young man, there's no <b>F</b> in <b>Onion</b>..."</blockquote><blockquote>Q: "Now do you understand? There ain't no <b>F' n Onions</b> ! " </blockquote>And that's how many of the conversations go in the Help Groups I belong to. I just thought I'd share that...</div><div><br></div><div>So...if you take the <b>Pe</b> out of <b>Petition</b>, and the <b>Se</b> out of <b>Seditio</b><b>n</b>...what happened to the <b>F</b> in <b>Revolution </b>? </div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-42098378400753241852010-01-07T02:56:00.000-08:002010-01-07T08:32:14.677-08:00Out, Into the World This week, home alone with the wife and dogs has been the best week for a long time. I took the trash out Tuesday Night, other-wise I haven't been out of the door! I'll be going out today, but just to the Pasta Plant to pick-up my paycheck ( I'm on vacation ), a carton of cigarettes and maybe some hooch if the wife doesn't complain too much. <div><br></div><div>The snow started falling late yesterday while I was obsessively following the flame war that erupted several days ago here among some of my on-line buddies. Such a contrast, cool flakes falling silently in the night while hot tempers raged on my monitor. Weird really, watching out the window to see the natural wonder of winter, and watching my monitor to see equally natural heat of human passions. I've been a total voyeur this week, not going out into the former and not really getting involved in the latter. </div><div><br></div><div>I woke this morning to find both the outer world and this inner, virtual world at peace, cool and silent. I'm gonna take the camera I think. Just to show some of my on-line buddies that the world abides.</div><div><br></div><div>The main roads are clear, though the side streets probably won't get plowed for a day or too. No matter, it's just a few miles to the Pasta Plant. Those folks will be rushed, running and hollering at each other in their efforts to produce, produce produce! Another contrast, me at peace at home and them struggling so. Come next Monday, I'll be back in the thick of that world made so brutal by our own passions and frustrations. But not today...</div><div><br></div><div>I'll be back in a few hours. So you folks try to enjoy your world(s) while I'm out there. </div><div><br></div><div> </div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-84064339580886590012010-01-03T20:18:00.000-08:002010-01-03T20:18:36.671-08:00Gallatin County Sheriff, Wife, and Son Indicted for Solicitation of Murder for HireIt's getting hot here in Southern Illinois. It may be January, and the ground may be frozen but if you stand next to the jail in Murphysboro you may feel the heat that the Feds have brought to the Heartland. A neighboring Sheriff selling drugs from his squad car and his family plotting to kill witnesses, now that's hot news!<br /><br />WJBD - Salem ( IL ) has the story:<br /><blockquote><a href="http://www.wjbdradio.com/?f=news_single&id=19790">Gallatin County Sheriff, Wife, and Son Indicted for Solicitation of Murder for Hire</a>: "The Gallatin County Sheriff along with his wife and adult son have all been arrested on Jackson County warrants charging solicitation of murder for hire. The sheriff, 47-year-old Raymond Martin, was already in the Jackson County Jail at Murphysboro on federal indictments for distribution of marijuana and carrying a firearm during and in relation to drug trafficking.<br /><br />The new indictments also charge Martin's 36-year-old wife Kristina and 20-year-old son Cody. They were arrested when they came to visit the former sheriff at the Jackson County Jail on Saturday. Each is being held on one-million dollars bond apiece.<br /><br />The charges accuse Raymond Martin of conspiring with his wife and son of plotting to have witnesses murdered who were expected to testify at his upcoming drug trial. The witnesses allegedly involved have not been identified.<br /><br />The solicitation of murder for hire charge is a Class X felony and carry a sentence of 20 to 40 years in prison. Martin has not resigned his job as sheriff in the far southeastern corner of the state."</blockquote>This story can only get more interesting. I just hope no one gets hurt ( or burnt ) as the drama unfolds.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-65181190795975795282009-12-31T15:16:00.000-08:002009-12-31T22:03:42.404-08:00Your Ancestors Are With You And some times it gets really spooky. I've had several encounters with the dear departed in the last decade, and for better or worse each was a life-changing event. I'm not writing about ghosts or goblins, or troubled spirits that linger in our world. This is about real events, real people and the effect they have long after they are gone.<div><br></div><div>My Grandmother ( on my father's side ) was a grand manipulator, and at ninety-five the matriarch of a Klan that spanned most of the North American Continent. Her annual family reunions are attended by thousands. But, I never knew the extent of her power till my wife and I visited my sister last Thanksgiving. Grandma blew my mind ( ok, she used my sis to do the work, but it was Grandma pulling the strings from...where-ever... ).</div><div><br></div><div>After my wife, my sister and I carved and ate the turkey, the pumpkin pie and all that...we retired to the living room where Sis had recently put much af Grandma's relics up for display ( crochet hooks and hoops, butter molds, etc ), it was well done. My Sis has an eye for art ( and craft ), and the new additions to her home reflected her respect and affection for her family and culture. She's like that, my Sis is...</div><div><br></div><div>In a casual voice, Sis said, "Hey Wally, listen to this."...and out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed her hand touch the play button on her answering machine....whoa...it was the voice of my dear Grandma, calling Sis from the Hospital several years before;<blockquote>"...Hey sissy, it's me and I'm going home now...Grandpa's not doing well, but we'll talk about that when you visit this weekend. I don't know If I'll be able to lift that big skillet to fry chicken, but oh well...I have a few knick-knacks you'll probably want to look at..."</blockquote>I froze, immobile where I stood. That voice, it shook me and still affects me. Grandma's out there, in a virtual world of her own creation. </div><div><br></div><div>That message ( and more ) have since been transferred to other digital media, and she ( Grandma ) has gone www.com. This is the spooky part, there is no stopping her. And here's the kicker, Grandma was tied deeply into Illinois politics ( Democrat in a traditionally Republican State ). She was a huge asset to our most recently elected Governor, <a href="http://www.google.com/reader/shared/user/03256507980052811175/label/Blagojevich">Rod Blagojavich</a> who has been impeached, ousted, whatever...Grandma's pissed ( ok, this is just my speculation, but I know what angers the old bird ). </div><div><br></div><div>I want anyone that reads this to suspend their dis-belief for just a moment. You don't believe in spooks, you don't believe in ghosts. But, many ~do <i>believe in~ </i>the Internet. You can feel the effect of a voice from the past. Please understand where I'm coming from.</div><div><br></div><div>Some of your departed parents, some of your grandparents and many of your ancestors gave a lot to get you where you are today. A few of them where crafty enough to reach into your <i>present tense. </i>Obama is a master of that hyper-rhelm that you hold so dear.</div><div><br></div><div>It's not about bits and bytes. It's about logic, reason and the desire to affect the world long after you have departed. Like Grandma...( God bless her ).</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div> </div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-85997591958652452052009-11-21T12:03:00.000-08:002009-11-21T17:40:17.328-08:00Shot Gun Season Deer hunting has begun in Illinois, and the woods are full of Shot Guns loaded with deer slugs. Half the men I know preparing to climb a tree to their deer stand in the early pre-dawn hours, hoping to bag that big buck at the crack of dawn. Southern Comfort sales are at a seasonal high, so I would advise everyone to stay out of the woods this morning. <div><br></div><div>And the deer a running everywhere! You can't drive down the road without worrying that one will leap in front of your vehicle. And in the twilight of dawn, obscured by recent fog there have been more than a few road-kills in this area. That's when cell-phones come in handy, drag that doe to the side of the road and call your buddy for a tow and some help loading her into his pick-up. Meat is meat, and times are hard.</div><div><br></div><div>The State calls it a <i>Harvest</i> and several thousand will be taken this week. White Tails are plentiful in Southern Illinois, and many years see an over-population that leads to leaner, smaller animals. Not so this year, they should be well fed by the crops still in the field ( corn harvest has been delayed six or eight weeks by rain ). Many fields will remain unharvested till the ground freezes enough to bare the weight of the heavy equipment required to get it out. That's good news for the survivors of this years harvest. </div><div><br></div><div>A neighbor sent over a large meatloaf she made with venison last week ( road-kill no doubt ), it was fantastic! I have several friends that have promised to sell me <i>Deer Sausage</i> ( it looks like Salami, about two feet long ). Most mix the sausage 50% Venison, 25% Pork, 25% Beef. I like it with Ritz Crackers and hot mustard. I've still got a Deer Heart in the freezer from last year, I suppose I should put in a crock-pot tomorrow to make room for more.</div><div><br></div><div>It's Shot Gun Season, you folks be careful out there!</div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-10357078045001513472009-11-13T06:05:00.000-08:002009-11-13T06:05:58.436-08:00Comic for November 13, 2009<a href="http://feeds.dilbert.com/~r/DilbertDailyStrip/~3/1jWQrVtSsK4/">Comic for November 13, 2009</a><br /><br />: "<img src="http://dilbert.com/dyn/str_strip/000000000/00000000/0000000/000000/70000/3000/400/73435/73435.strip.print.gif" border="0" width="100%" /><p></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/DilbertDailyStrip/~4/1jWQrVtSsK4" height="1" width="1" />"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-21935846789270186872009-10-31T23:09:00.001-07:002009-10-31T23:09:42.668-07:00The Children Did Not Come Out TonightMy wife was disappointed but not greatly, when no kids came Trick-or-Treating on this Halloween. Disappointed because she enjoys handing out treats to all that come to our door, dressed as goblins and monsters. Not greatly disappointed because she was feeling poorly, and I was at work and not able to enjoy the night with her. This leaves us with much candy to enjoy for the next few weeks.<div><br /></div><div>The weather has been foul for weeks, cold and drizzling rain that tends to dampen any festive spirits. And, the flu season is at it's peak so I doubt if many parents were eager to take their children from door to door. Fortunately for the kids, there was an alternative this year. Church.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several local Churches got together and invited everyone to the local school gymnasium to celebrate(?) Halloween. Which seems rather odd to me, as most Churches are dead-set against anything to do with witches, goblins and the like! Oh well, if Jesus can tolerate Easter Egg Hunts and Christmas Trees perhaps a few Zombies would be ok too.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I remember when Halloween was more than a Sugar Rush, better than a Costume Contest. It was an opportunity to get even with Teachers, Preachers and the local cop for all those little things they represent to kids; rules, manners and social graces.</div><div><br /></div><div>Halloween was a night when latent Juvenile Terrorists went out armed with bars of soap to decorate neighbors windows with vulgarities. We waged war on out-houses, tipping them over ( even better if a teacher was in it ). And toilet paper, roll upon roll of tissue to adorn the trees of the grumpiest neighbor. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's kinda sad really, my wife and I with all this candy and those kids at the school with the preachers. It almost makes me wish I'd wake up to find the wind-shield of my car soaped, "Eat Shit Wallace! You Suck!". </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-51977091238425280802009-10-30T10:42:00.000-07:002009-10-30T10:50:48.584-07:00The Rain Came to StayIt's been raining for a week or more, and there is no sign of the sky clearing for weeks to come. The ground is saturated, and the water is backing up in the streams and creeks that feed the rivers. It doesn't happen every year, but often enough to be called normal weather for this land between the rivers.<div><br /></div><div>The farmers' corn and soy bean crops are left standing in the fields. Fields too wet to support the harvest equipment. Farmers may have to wait for the ground to freeze before they can get their crops out. </div><div><br /></div><div>The deer and other animals are moving to high ground, leaving the safety of the brush and moving across the many highways. Driving can be hazardous on rainy nights, and moving deer add to the danger.</div><div><br /></div><div>My roof leaks...drip...drip...drip...</div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-67772471455082463032009-10-02T06:55:00.000-07:002009-10-02T06:56:07.981-07:00google-site-verification: google644b6d51e87d3f13.htmlAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-46740201668846787102009-07-20T23:13:00.000-07:002009-07-21T03:43:26.146-07:00Early Morning Thoughts Again, my mind wanders as I wait for my ride to work in these early am hours. I ponder the nature of Wealth, and Worth and my mind drifts back to memories of my Grandfather who died several years ago. He was a farmer, a Family Farmer which is different from most farmers these days as they own their land, do most of the work themselves and answer to themselves and the market.<div><br></div><div>Grandpa worked till the end, and when he stopped working the end came as he knew it would. His farm wasn't large, as he never intended it to be so. The farm was his retreat. That battle-scarred old man probably never read about Waldon's Pond as he only finished the sixth grade in school. But, he embodied that spirit more than anyone I ever met.</div><div><br></div><div>In the end, the entire family ( except for me, as I knew his <i>secret</i> ) was shocked to find out he had no money, no wealth, and they were not pleased to find that over the years he had been giving it away, acre by acre to my brother who had been working beside him for decades. He knew all along that you can't take Wealth with you, and that if his life was to have any worth he'd have to pass Wealth on.</div><div><br></div><div>What is Wealth? Grandpa knew that there was no way in the world that my brother could ever buy a farm of his own with money he had earned. That's what Wealth is, more than you could ever acquire honestly. And he knew that my brother's dream, and goal in life was to find his own seperate peace, and work that dream for him and his. For them work is the goal, not the means to an end. This definition of Wealth is quite different than what you'll find in the dictionary, or on the Oprah show.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm of to my job now, a job I really do enjoy because it suits me. And I'll be daydreaming all day, probably thinking about how I no longer have to help my brother take care of those damn hogs...</div><div><br></div><div>Thanks Grandpa, thanks Ed, dream on... </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div> </div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-32548266313013008052009-07-04T18:59:00.000-07:002009-07-04T19:16:51.265-07:00A Rainy Fourth of July<div>Storms moved across the area all day on this 4th of July weekend. Me and mine kept ourselves dry inside all day ( except for a short trip to the local mini-mart in Cutler IL ). Most of the local fire-works displays and festivities were scheduled for this evening, so I imagine a lot of folks will be disappointed.</div><div><br /></div><div>It looks like storms will continue through the weekend, I hope everyone drives safely.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfL8g6Mz7G0Z7gLtJQcGDHwZq9b-ryH_vPb_-LvkhEKGtqdKWvZC6PYhFFpN3Lthayf2JNqylszwABp48ovntjQNB5MWhGw2UFgoSK1-UhMSoL12eZ-hdts0ll7n_ktE7FFjIJ74WaDM/s1600-h/rain.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfL8g6Mz7G0Z7gLtJQcGDHwZq9b-ryH_vPb_-LvkhEKGtqdKWvZC6PYhFFpN3Lthayf2JNqylszwABp48ovntjQNB5MWhGw2UFgoSK1-UhMSoL12eZ-hdts0ll7n_ktE7FFjIJ74WaDM/s400/rain.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354793251193081106" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-75900078774040713132009-06-13T02:08:00.001-07:002009-06-13T13:21:27.446-07:00Blues celebration fills Grant Park - Chicago Breaking News<div> <p>I'm seriously thinking about taking a day off work so that I can go to Chicago. I sure hope somebody takes some video of this event, and posts it on youtube! Let me know if you're in the Chicago area. I'd need a place to crash ( late Saturday night till early Sunday morning ).</p><p></p> <blockquote class="posterous_long_quote"><div><div><span><abbr title="2009-06-12T19:29:30-06:00">June 12, 2009 7:29 PM</abbr> </span> <span>|</span> <a href="http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/2009/06/blues-celebration-fills-grant-park.html#comments">No Comments</a> </div> </div> <div> <div> <p>The 26th annual Chicago Blues Festival is underway this weekend in Grant Park in downtown Chicago, on five stages spread out around the Petrillo Bandshell on the corner of Jackson and Columbus Drives.</p> <p>It's the world's largest free blues festival, and will be held through Sunday. We will be adding to <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-090612-chicago-blues-festival-2009-pictures,0,1000435.photogallery">the photogallery</a> throughout the festival.</p> <p> </p><p> </p><p><img src="http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/BluesFest640.jpg" alt="BluesFest640.jpg" width="100%" /></p> <p><span style="FONT-SIZE: 0.8em">Vince Agwada performs with the Chicago Blues Experience at the Chicago Blues Festival on Friday. (Tribune / Zbigniew Bzdak) <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-090612-chicago-blues-festival-2009-pictures,0,1000435.photogallery">MORE PHOTOS</a></span></p></div></div></blockquote><div class="posterous_quote_citation">via <a href="http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/2009/06/blues-celebration-fills-grant-park.html">chicagobreakingnews.com</a></div> <p></p></div><p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com/">Posted via web</a> from <a href="http://wallace.posterous.com/blues-celebration-fills-grant-park-chicago-br">Wallace's posterous</a> </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-84470066168834013072009-04-26T05:01:00.001-07:002009-04-26T05:03:23.507-07:00Twister<img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/wallace/elXQJZ0o21W4p3oXivhwItzespy1YgiWsXe54M9L44QqCyisD19g4GGMJqrh/gif_tornadao.gif" width="123" height="101"/> <p>A friend of mine's mother sent him a pic of a funnel cloud that <br />crossed the road in front of their vehicle several weeks ago. If <br />you've ever seen a twister, or if you've ever heard one passing near <br />by with the sound of a freight train you'll never forget it. <br /> <br />It's tornado season here in what we call 'Tornado Alley', stretching <br />from Texas to Chicago in a N by NE line. Often, twisters come in pairs <br />and triplets that can devastate entire towns and villages along their <br />path. <br /> <br />At noon, in the village I live in Church Bells chime. In the next town <br />down the road sirens scream at noon. They have memories of <br />destruction, and test their warning system daily. We pray a lot.</p><p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://wallace.posterous.com/twister">Wallace's posterous</a> </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8565682568558743219.post-17449552596017176642009-04-26T02:48:00.000-07:002009-04-26T02:50:09.193-07:00Smooth - Carlos Santana<iframe src="http://beta.friendfeed.com/mikeroblogger/62ce8fa5/carlos-santana-smooth?embed=1" frameborder="0" height="300" width="400" style="border:1px solid #aaa"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02956663857750332865noreply@blogger.com0