Lengthy diatribe, but somewhat cathartic

For many years, my email inbox seemed to be filled with a lot of junk.

Since I have been with Hotmail, and Google, I have not been aware of receiving very much spam.

Well, tonight, I am going through my inbox, and attempting to purge a lot of the stuff I don't think I need anymore.

I am seriously having a difficult time with some of the emails...

"My Heart on the Line By Frank Schaeffer The Washington Post

Before my son became a Marine, I never thought much about who was defending me. Now when I read of the war on terrorism or the coming conflict in Iraq , it cuts to my heart. When I see a picture of a member of our military who has been killed, I read his or her name very carefully. Sometimes I cry.

In 1999, when the barrel-chested Marine recruiter showed up in dress blues and bedazzled my son John, I did not stand in the way. John was headstrong, and he seemed to understand these stern, clean men with straight backs and flawless uniforms. I did not. I live in the Volvo-driving, higher education- worshiping North Shore of Boston. I write novels for a living. I have never served in the military.

It had been hard enough sending my two older children off to Georgetown and New York University . John's enlisting was unexpected, so deeply unsettling. I did not relish the prospect of answering the question, "So where is John going to college?" from the parents who were itching to tell me all about how their son or daughter was going to Harvard. At the private high school John attended, no other students were going into the military.

"But aren't the Marines terribly Southern?" asked one perplexed mother while standing next to me at the brunch following graduation. "What a waste, he was such a good student," said another parent. One parent (a professor at a nearby and rather famous university) spoke up at a school meeting and suggested that the school should "carefully evaluate what went wrong."

When John graduated from three months of boot camp on Parris Island, 3,000 parents and friends were on the parade deck stands. We parents and our Marines not only were of many races but also were representative of many economic classes. Many were poor. Some arrived crammed in the backs of pickups, others by bus. John told me that a lot of parents could not afford the trip.

We in the audience were white and Native American. We were Hispanic, Arab and African American and Asian. We were former Marines wearing the scars of battle, or at least baseball caps emblazoned with battles' names. We were Southern whites from Nashville and skinheads from New Jersey, black kids from Cleveland wearing ghetto rags and white ex-cons with ham-hock forearms defaced by jailhouse tattoos. We would not have been mistaken for the educated and well-heeled parents gathered on the lawns of John's private school a half-year before.

After graduation one new Marine told John, "Before I was a Marine, if I had ever seen you on my block I would've probably killed you just because you were standing there." This was a serious statement from one of John's good friends, an African American ex-gang member from Detroit who, as John said, "would die for me now, just like I'd die for him."

My son has connected me to my country in a way that I was too selfish and insular to experience before. I feel closer to the waitress at our local diner than to some of my oldest friends. She has two sons in the Corps. They are facing the same dangers as my boy. When the guy who fixes my car asks me how John is doing, I know he means it. His younger brother is in the Navy.

Why were I and the other parents at my son's private school so surprised by his choice? During World War II, the sons and daughters of the most powerful and educated families did their bit. If the idea of the immorality of the Vietnam War was the only reason those lucky enough to go to college dodged the draft, why did we not encourage our children to volunteer for military service once that war was done?

Have we wealthy and educated Americans all become pacifists? Is the world a safe place? Or have we just gotten used to having somebody else defend us? What is the future of our democracy when the sons and daughters of the janitors at our elite universities are far more likely to be put in harm's way than are any of the students whose dorms their parents clean?

I feel shame because it took my son's joining the Marine Corps to make me take notice of who is defending me. I feel hope because perhaps my son is part of a future "greatest generation." As the storm clouds of war gather, at least I know that I can look the men and women in uniform in the eye. My son is one of them. He is the best I have to offer. He is my heart."

Interesting article, if it is true, what does it say about the "elite" of this country who are proud of their snobbery toward our military?

Back in the 60s, I hated hearing that the country's best and brightest were not going to Vietnam because they were enrolled in college.

And today, these "best and brightest" make up a large percentage of what is sitting in the halls of academia and gummint.

My former sister-in-law sent me:

"Veterans Vs Civilian Friends

When a good Veteran leaves the “job” and retires to a better life, many are jealous, some are pleased and yet others, who may have already retired, wonder.

We wonder if he knows what they are leaving behind, because we already know. We know, for example, that after a lifetime of camaraderie that few experience, it will remain as a longing for those past times. We know in the Military life there is a fellowship which lasts long after the uniforms are hung up in the back of the closet. We know even if he throws them away, they will be on him with every step and breath that remains in his life. We also know how the very bearing of the man speaks of what he was and in his heart still is.

These are the burdens of the job. You will still look at people suspiciously, still see what others do not see or choose to ignore, and always will look at the rest of the Military world with a respect for what they do. . . only grown in a lifetime of knowing.

Never think for one moment you are escaping from that life. You are only escaping the “job” and merely being allowed to leave “active” duty.

So what I wish for you is that whenever you ease into retirement, in your heart you never forget for one moment that “Blessed are the Peacemakers for they shall be called children of God,” and you are still a member of the greatest fraternity the world has ever known.

Civilian Friends VS. Veteran Friends

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Get upset if you’re too busy to talk to them for a week.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Are glad to see you after years, and will happily carry on the same conversation you were having the last time you met.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Have never seen you cry.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Have cried with you.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few days then give it back.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Keep your stuff so long they forget it’s yours.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Know a few things about you.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Could write a book with direct quotes from you.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that’s what the crowd is doing.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will kick the crowds’ ass that left you behind.

(Most) CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Are for a while.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Are for life.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Have shared a few experiences.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Have shared a lifetime of experiences no citizen could ever dream of.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will take your drink away when they think you’ve had enough.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will look at you stumbling all over the place and say, “You better drink the rest of that before you spill it!!” Then carry you home safely and put you to bed.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will talk crap to the person who talks crap about you.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will knock them the hell out OF THEM..... for using your name in vain.

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will ignore this.

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will forward this.

A veteran - Whether Active Duty, Retired, or National Guard or Reserve - is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check made payable to “The United States of America,” for an amount of “up to and including my life.” It is an honor to be a Veteran!"
I was a Marine on active duty when we met: she became a very close friend, and was very instrumental in bringing me to Jesus Christ, and getting me sober.

Perhaps I am getting old and senile...I spent about half of my life on active duty in the armed forces of this great country, because I believe in this country.

I believe in what she stood for when she was founded; I believe in individual freedom; I believe in individual's owning private property; I believe the majority of the people in this country still hold to the ideals that formed this country.

I also believe that there are people who disdain individual freedom, and wish to lord it over everybody else.

I have spent time in many countries of this world...Philippines, Hong Kong, Korea, Japan, Australia, Guatemala, Ecuador, Panama, Guam, Singapore, Guyana, and though there was much beauty there, they still were not the country I volunteered my life to protect.

How truly sad, that we are willing to allow ourselves to be cast aside for the betterment of a class of elites.

Our ancestors left Europe (My dad's mother's parents were from Sweden. My dad's predecessor from England. My mother's dad, often told me he was French German extraction) to get away from gummint overeaching into individual's lives, from oppressive taxation, from Marxist-Lenninist governing.

And now, three, four or more generations later, we are in the throes of returning this great country to the mess they all escaped from.

I would demand Scotty beam me up, but I know it ain't gonna do no good!

A good part of what has brought us to this point in history has been the misfits that inhabit the halls of con-gress; and now all the candidates for the office of the President are members of that despicable gaggle of misfits.

Skool days, skool days, good ole fashioned skool days

Rachel gots a super post up about skool kids in our gummint skools, and their parents' demands.

Gotta agree with Rachel, kids at skool shood be learnen the three R's. Parents shood be supporting the skools in teaching their chillrun the three R's, not fighting the skool admin and teachers every step of the way.

Perhaps a good idea?

Sigmund, Carl and Alfred have come through with a pretty interesting post.
WOWSER!!!!

I love the way these guys' minds work, and I really appreciate the effort they put into their posts.

The way to a man's heart

Well, it looks like
Katherine has come through with a dynamite post that appears to be the one that will endear her to me forever.

Her recipes for today and yesterday look to be WOWSERS... I can't wait to get in the kitchen and whup em up.

She really knows that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, with a trip past the tongue to get it all started. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

Thanks Katherine, you are the B.E.S.T!

Saturday nite feed

Brown 3 lbs of hamburger and drain off excess liquid.

Dice up 6 chicken thighs, fry in EVOO with Emeril's Essence.

Add 2 cans of diced tomatoes, 1 can of diced green chiles (I spose you could replace with 1 can of ROTEL), 2 cans of V-8 juice, 1 bell pepper diced, one-half large red onion diced, and one can of water chestnuts diced to the browned hamburger.

After the chicken browns, add that to the mixture also.

Then run 1 lb of Andoullie sausage and two good sized Italian sausage links with 2 table spoons of Rosemary through food processor; then fry completely.

When the sausage mixture is browned, add to the hamburger/chicken mixture.

Stir well, and allow to simmer.

While mixture is simmering, place four cups of elbow macaroni in water laced with EVOO and salt.

When macaroni is done, drain and mix into the hamburger/chicken/sausage mixture.

Then spoon it out onto a plate or bowl, and enjoy.

I am surprised at how good it tastes.

Yeah, it is quite a bit for one person, but I also get to freeze part of it to heat and enjoy later.

I don't think this is anybody's recipe, but then, I don't know alot about recipes, and generally try to cook what I think I am hungry for. Yet, in all honesty, I do love southern cooking and look forward to Katherine's Smoky Mountain Cafe.

Cognitive Dissonance to the Maxx

Standing Outside The Fire lyrics - Garth Brooks lyrics

Standing Outside The Fire Video - Garth Brooks Music Videos

Music Videos by VideoCure

Last night I was watching a Garth Brooks DVD and once again viewed this video.

I was immediately reminded of the brouhaha currently being expressed over Governor Palin's Down Syndrome son.

To my military mind, I sure would appreciate these "hate" pundits, having at least the respect, or consideration, or even the mental appitude of any one of the Down Syndrome individuals alive today.

Then again, I would not be adverse to place all the "hate" pundits in an asylum somewhere, so they can yell at the walls, and commiserate over all the things going wrong in our world.

No BO; no BS! none of the time

Two elitist voices hover above the crowd...voices that demand attention, but are devoid of any real meaning.

How cognitively dissonant are the words of B Hussein O, that as president he will increase taxes on the wealthy.

Is not Barbara Streisand wealthy? Or am I missing something here? Does it not seem axiomatic that if Babs had the least little inkling that someone in the government was going to go after her wealth, she would find some way to avoid them?

Did not Babs make the statement some time ago that if Bush was elected she would leave the country? How come she hasn't left yet?

No, B Hussein is not going to tax the wealthy, as least not the ones who share his socialistic ideology.

I find it truly sad that there are people in this country, who consider themselves to be above any common denominator.

Is it too much to believe that the ones who are supporting the socialist agenda rapidly taking over this great capitalistic country have dreams of being part of the ruling class?

If we were to go back in history and look at each and every socialist takeover of a country, what would we find happened to the wealthy?

We know that when socialism, communism, dictatorship takes over a country, one of their first priorities is to remove anyone who presents a possibility of undermining the ruling class.

One of the very first things that happens is to confiscate, or make null any and all wealth. Yeah, you got mega bucks stored away, just change the medium of wealth.

Since socialism, and probably all "isms" require the governing body to have all assets, so they may be more equitably doled out to the masses, there can be no personal property ownership.

One of the early events in any "ism" taking over a country is to silence the "media". That means only the official newspaper, radio or tv stations will be available.

Sadly, Rush is correct in his estimation that the most expensive commodity we have in this country is ignorance. I would simply state that closely aligned in perhaps second place would stupidity. But, stupidity cannot be fixed. So, how do we rectify the ignorance running rampant in this country?

Education has been woefully dumbed down to encourage ignorance, the media has been enlisted to reinforce the need for an ignorant population.

A free people, make daily decisions as to how they will live..."isms" take away the right to decide for yourself.

No, no BO and no BS will be my song of lament.

This country has been blessed by God Almighty, to be a shining city on the hill; far too many people want to crush and dissolve this great country, just because they think they have a better idea.

In the Marine Corps, we had a saying that really is appropriate here: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

Ah, now that brings up another thought.

Iatrogenic identifies a, mostly fatal, disease that was introduced by the doctor or health facility.

Universal health care, to my military mind, is iatrogenic, since, many people will not have any health care because of their status.

Socialism, whenever and wherever it has been tried has always been a failure...why are we now even considering implementing it in this country?

God help us!