RED OR WHITE?

It's 6: 09 a.m. Patrick is outside and it's Grey out.

They've been telling us a little red wine per day is good for your heart, so I've been taking a few swigs of a rather good Cabernet Sauvignon, my wine of choice, each night. It's a california grape from Winking Owl vinyards that I get from the cut rate market Aldi's for $2.99 a bottle, complete with foam cork. For the price, it can't be beat.

Which brings me to my wine story. This took place in late seventies or early eighties, when I worked in South Carolina. I had this fiery petite little southern redhead for a girl friend. Everyday at the job, I would tell Kim about her and what happened the previous night. Finally he got tired of my whining. "All you do is complain about her! Why are you even with her if she makes you so miserable?" A light bulb went off in my head. He was right. I loved her dearly, but we just didn't get along. No future. So I broke up with her. Anyway, we remained good friends, friends with benefits, as they say,oddly enough, and found ourselves on a road trip, I don't remember what the occasion was or where we went. We decided we would treat ourselves to this very exclusive expensive restauarant for dinner. I called and made reservations and when they arrrived, the Maitre de greeted us with a large green matchbook with my name imprinted on it in gold ink. If that was meant to impress us, it worked and I started to get real worried about prices. Anyway, when we got to our table, to my delight, the food was affordable. Long story short, I ordered a mid-priced bottle of red wine to go with our meal. The waiter served the wine. I noted that the label didn't seem to be exactly the same as what was listed on the menu, but it was the same type of wine, and not wanting to make waves, ( A bit intimidated by the surroundings) I approved it. It was good, the dryest wine I ever tasted. A bit later, a guy comes to the table, intorduces himself as the Wine Steward, I forget the french term he used, and asked us if we were enjoying the wine. I said yes, but that I was no connieser(sic), joking. He said they don't have much occasion to open a bottle of that particular vintage. I joked, why, Is it a bad choice. No, he said. Then he did a rather stange thing. He asked us if he could taste it. We said yes, he did, thanked us and left. Curious. When the bill came, it suddenly all made sense. The wine was $200.00! Now remember this was the Seventies. I don't know exactly, but I'm sure that would work out to over $500.00 at least, adjusted for inflation, in terms of our dollar today.

I told the waiter their was a mistake, and he brought me the menu. There it was. But Twilight Zone sank in: There it was--Number Eleven at $200.00 (I had ordered by the number) . But the menu had CHANGED (Play eirie music). I insisted this was not the menu I had ordered from ( sound like a pretty weak defence, huh?) Anyway, after a long while, the waiter comes back, seems they had NEW menus, exactly like the old, except for some textual changes, and some of the old ones were mixed in with the new, and I was in the right, and would be charged only the ten dollars listed for Number Eleven. Whew!!

I don't know if that was a bait and switch they used on the rubes, but I don't think so. I hope some peon busboy didn't get in trouble--but we had the bottle of wine of a lifetime that I'll never forget!
-30-

POT 'O GOLD

It's 5:37 a.m. and Patrick is on the side porch.

Metal detected the front yard yesterday and found five Lincoln cents, one Rossevelt dime and a quarter, and a half ton of junk. The elusive pot 'o gold was not found. The yard has rusty metal in literally every square foot next to the house. Found harness rings, diecast car, nails, carriage bolt, fuse, shotgunshell, auto light bulb, beer cans and etc. ad nauseum.

I have a theory that the leaders of the Democrat Party are genetically flawed. I think we should do a DNA test on them. I don't think they have the same number of chromosomes as the rest of us. Just one way of trying to explain their bizarre behavior...-30-

HERE COMES Katrina

It's 6:46 a.m. 64 degrees out and slightly foggy and bright. Patrick got up and went back to bed with Junior.

It looks like Hurricane Katrina, now downgraded to category four, is poised to fill New Orleans, one of my many home towns, with water. As a teenager growing up in Florida in the 60's I lived thru many fringes of hurricanes and of course tropical storms and literally hundreds of summer thunderstorms. In those days they were all named after women. Only one was a direct hit, and I can't remember her name. I DON'T think it was Donna, tho. Any way, It came thru Clearwater, and I rode the storm out at a buddy's house, we sat up all night having a little huricane party watching and listening to the storm. Alan's mother had a '64 mustang and it was parked in their drive way. A tree fell right behind it, and would have fallen on my car where I usually parked it, only luckily I had parked on the street for some reason or other. Anyway, I've always enjoyed watching violent storms. In Huntington, not too many years ago, I watched a tree fall on the house across the street. It fell in slow motion, iluminated by flashes of lightning. The top big branches broke thru the second story bedroom window landing on the mom and dad's bed. I ran over there in the rain, and the Dad came out and met me--They and the kids were all OK, in the basement. It was never clear to me why they were riding the storm out in the basement. Did they hide there during every thunderstorm? Maybe there was a Tornado warning in effect, I don't know. Anyway on this occasion the practice probably saved them from injury. Their front Porch roof was obliterated. So it goes. -30-

SPITTING TIME?

iT'S 6:57 A.M., bright out and Patrick's on the side porch.

An AOL news poll had 47% supporting President Bush and 46% supporting Traitor Cindy in Crawford. Yes, I called her a traitor, because she has called the terrorists "Freedom fighters" and Bush a "terrorist" and claimed he's fighting a war of "genocide" among many other outrageous statements not reported by the MSM, which in itself is becoming dangerously close to being justifiably called sympathizers with our enemies.. She has revealed herself for what she its. I had thought previously that she was just a crazy old lady driven to madness by grief. No, she is a genuine America-hater ala Jane Fonda. But the AOL poll surpised me, I thought Bush would have had slightly higger numbers, considering the MSM DID cover, altho only slightly, the "We don't agree with Cindy" tour. Unfortunately, War is a terrible thing and it's impossible to combat a well organized anti-war effort--The American people fall for it every time. There is an element of war protestors that oppose all war, even if the war is the only way to stop their own enslavement or their own genocide. They would have counselled the residents of the Warsaw ghetto to just die, not resist, even if it meant the end of their race. Any way, I believe we are just months away from soldiers returning home to be spit upon, just like these traitors did to the Viet Nam war Vets. The American people won't have the stomach to stick it out. So, I guess it's time to abandon the Iraqui people to whatever fate awaits them, fold up our tents and come home. Too bad for them, too bad for us. It WILL embolden the terrorists, who, unfortunately may prove to be the most formidable foe America has every had to face. The SIns of Cindy will doom us all, I'm afraid...Too bad a few bad apples have to spoil it for the rest of us, eh? Maybe we need some stronger sedition laws...-30-

CHEST OF GOLD

Day 17,809 on this planet. It's 6:57 a.m., 71 degrees out, and a slightly foggy, cloudy Saturday. We just had a short but intense cloudburst that soaked everything pretty good. I have no idea where the little white dog is. Sat up with Junior last night as he had this excruciating severe pain- itching episode associated sosmehow with his tubing sunburn. We covered him in hydrocortizone and watched several episodes of Earth2 with Rebecca Gayheart, into the wee hours.

The front yard, just next to the house was metal detected yesterday , descriminating for copper, silver and gold coins, to a depth of ten inches. Found were two pennies, two quarters and a dime. No silver or gold. But there is an area we found with modern coins to a depth of 2-3 inches which we didn't bother to excavate, and another area with something either too big or too deep for us to bother with yesterday. Today I will investigate these sites with my toy Wal=mart 99-dollar detector--What I am anticipating is finding a cache of pirate gold that's value will be life altering for me, Junior and the little dog. It will be a large oak chest with brass fittings, filled with 15th century pirate gold and silver coins and jewels. Now, how it came to be in Indiana will be a mystery that we will solve, soon to be made into a major motion picture, starring Johnny Depp in the flashbacks as the Pirate, and Angelina Jolie Voight as my love interest--I'll be playing myself...Anyway, that's the plan. If not, oh well. ( the only hard part will be getting myself in shape so I can woo Lara Croft away from Bradley Pitt . I know he's much better looking than me, but is he nearly as charming?). -30-

DISHWASHER GOES PRO

It's 8:43 a.m., seventy degrees out, partly cloudy. Patrick is licking my breakfast dish.

We ran out of paper plates, so I had to use a china plate to prepare my breakfast salad on. Now this means I'll have to wash it, something I don't want to do.

My first professional dishwashing job was washing dishes by hand after suppers at fellowship hall at the First Methodist Church in Clearwater, Fla. as a teenager, for which they paid me under the table. In college, I was a member of Gamma Theta Chapter of Tau Kappa Epsilon, at the University of Florida, the fraternity that was immortalilzed in the classic film "Animal House".I was one of the two dishwashers there. If you washed dinner dishes by hand for Cook you got your meal free.

When I worked as shift manager at Krystal in Clearwater (a White Castle clone) that used china, I must have washed my share of dishes and frying pans, but I have no clear memory of it.)

When I flunked out of Florida, I traveled down to Lido Beach and stayed with a Klan buddy. I got a real job at the Azure Tides Motel kitchen washing pots and pans, the worst thing ever. But you did get a free supper on your shift. (There was no such thing as Teflon in those days.) In short order I worked my way up to Dishwasher, and then dishwasher Prep guy-- My job was to receive the plastic tubs of dirty dishes and silverware from the busboys, and spray them off with a shower hose thing to prewash them before they went into the dishwasher. On Easter Sunday morning, in April of 1969, I personally washed over 1,000 brunch dishes, forks, spoons knives and glasses, my personal best as a Pro Dish Washer.

Anad of course my last cherished memory of dish washing occurred in 1971, KP duty at a Ft. Lewis Washington Mess Hall...

-30-

DISHWASHER GOES PRO

It's 8:43 a.m., seventy degrees out, partly cloudy. Patrick is licking my breakfast dish.

We ran out of paper plates, so I had to use a china plate to prepare my breakfast salad on. Now this means I'll have to wash it, something I don't want to do.

My first professional dishwashing job was washing dishes by hand after suppers at fellowship hall at the First Methodist Church in Clearwater, Fla. as a teenager, for which they paid me under the table. In college, I was a member of Gamma Theta Chapter of Tau Kappa Epsilon, at the University of Florida, the fraternity that was immortalilzed in the classic film "Animal House".I was one of the two dishwashers there. If you washed dinner dishes by hand for Cook you got your meal free.

When I worked as shift manager at Krystal in Clearwater (a White Castle clone) that used china, I must have washed my share of dishes and frying pans, but I have no clear memory of it.)

When I flunked out of Florida, I traveled down to Lido Beach and stayed with a Klan buddy. I got a real job at the Azure Tides Motel kitchen washing pots and pans, the worst thing ever. But you did get a free supper on your shift. (There was no such thing as Teflon in those days.) In short order I worked my way up to Dishwasher, and then dishwasher Prep guy-- My job was to receive the plastic tubs of dirty dishes and silverware from the busboys, and spray them off with a shower hose thing to prewash them before they went into the dishwasher. On Easter Sunday morning, in April of 1969, I personally washed over 1,000 brunch dishes, forks, spoons knives and glasses, my personal best as a Pro Dish Washer.

Anad of course my last cherished memory of dish washing occurred in 1971, KP duty at a Ft. Lewis Washington Mess Hall...

-30-

THE BIG HAIRY SCARY GUY

Day 17, 807 on this planet. It's 5:48, partly cloudy, 58 degrees out and Patrick is sleeping peadefully with Junior.

Sadahm Sindy is back in Crawford, the Darling of the MSM. She gave HER Mom, who just suffered a stroke, the pleasure of her company for a few days, then back to work being our nations current No. 1 asshole. Finally the MSM is giving some minor play to other Gold Star Moms (the vast Majority) who don't agree with Shehan.

Randall "Tex" Cobb was a heavyweight boxer who retired with a 43-7-1 record. He fought some of the best in his time, and is most noted for going 15 rounds in a title bout with Larry Holmes, around 1981 or so, losing every round, but never backing up, and never going down. At one point in the fight, he turned to the Ref and said, "You're white, help me." The Ref didn't, and Howard Cosell, ringside, was so horrified by the brutality of the fight, retired and never covered boxing again, a thing of which Cobb is very proud to this day.

Cobb was and is a colorful character, and had a career in Hollywood, appearing in about two dozen feature films as the lovable comic BIG HAIRY SCARY GUY kicking people's ass's.

I met Cobb in L.A. around 1983, give or take a year. I saw him in a night Club on PCH. He was leaning up against a bar, with his back to it looking like a huge ugly cave man, with his massive knuckles almost scrapping the floor, very recognizable. I took a very diminutive girl in our group with me, for protection, to go meet him. I said, "You're Tex Cobb, right? I just wanted to shake your hand." We shook and he looked at my slight companion and commented, "I bet she likes to be on top." I mumbled something like, "Uh, yeah, thanks." and we beat a hasty retreat. He definitely was an intimidating figure, and an authentic Western American Hero. So it goes.
-30-

ANOTHER PRESIDENT

It's 5:39, 56 degrees out, dark, and Patrick is in bed with Junior.

The fifth president I saw was Jerry Ford. Missing LBJ broke my string of seeing all the Presidents in my lifetime. I saw him at the same place I saw Nixon, and he was President at the time, at the St. Pete Airport. One of the crowd, behind a low fence, I thrust out my hand and he shook it. He had yellow teeth. He was the only man, that I know of, that served as President of the United States, never having been elected by the people. He stumbled through his presidency and bumped his head alot. He may have been a fair college football player, but he was in over his head at the whitehouse. Thank goodness THEY didn't choose his watch to leave the Mother Ships and invade us.... So it goes.

By the way, Cindy Sheehan continues to dishonor her son's service. The real tradgedy here is that she probably will never realize the error of her ways, but I guess that's a blessing for her. Her son will forgive her. She's just a crazy old woman, beat down by life's injustices...
-30-

I AM NOT A CROOK

Day 17,805 on this planet. It's 5:51 am, clear out and 54 degrees F. The sesquipedalian got up, then went back to sleep with Junior.

The fourth President I saw during the early days was Richard Milhouse Nixon, a Quaker, and a brilliant weirdo. I shook his hand in St. Petersburg, at the Airport; there was a small contingent of people there to greet him. He had sunk to the bottom of his political career. Defeated for President and defeated for Governor of California, everybody had given up on him, but not us. He was a short dude with an enormous head. He was the first president whose hand I shook, and he would have gone down in history as one of the best, had it not been for a few bad decisions regarding trying to cover up Watergate. Had Clinton been president in Nixons's time, he would not only have been impeached, he would have been removed from office and ridden out of town on a rail, tarred and feathered. Such does the mores and culture of a great civilization decline into the muck of Godlessness on the downhill curve of the cycle... Thus it is, ever. -30-

IT'S STARTING AGAIN

well now, it's 4 :54 a.m., dark out and chilly! at 53 degrees. EArthdog Patrick got up with me and promptly crawled into bed with Junior, so as not to break his record of getting at LEAST 20 hours of sleep a day.

It's starting again. Baghdad Cindy or whatever her name is, down in Texas was the catalyst. The same moron-types responsible for our defeat in Viet Nam, have started their siren call to the dumb masses to pull out of Iraq. Bush better change his tactics soon, or all will be lost. Nation building with white-people Christians probably will work. But not with these heathen primitive sub Humans in the Middle - East. They have a few more milleniums to go before they can be trusted with self-government. It's a shame that traitors in our midst will cause our defeat, but there it is... We need to exit on our terms, honorably, GW, and soon, or it will dissolve into another deal like what happened to us in the Orient. It's one thing defeating Communism, but defeating a Religion that teachs and Glorifies Murder of Innocents--let's give it up... Sorry, that's the way it is--But that does not in any way shape or form mean we condone the Cindy-America haters--they should be hoisted on their own pitards and left to rot in the sun. Just my opinion. -30-

WHO KILLED JFK?

It's 4:54, dark out, 67 degrees and Patrick got up with me and then crawled into bed with Junior.

The third president I saw and the second sitting President was John F. Kennedy, several days before he was assassinated. He was making his southern tour and scheduled to speak at one of the Ball Parks in Tampa. I was a junior in high school, and a member of an outlaw group who liked to operated slightly, just slightly, outside the parameters of the High School's rules--but that's another story. We happened to be politically aware, members of the Citizens Council, but again that's another story, and fellow travelers of the John Birch Society, another story yet. We went to the Office, about five us and an entourage of ten or so hangers on, and whined and debated about wanting the afternoon off to drive to Tampa to see the President for "educational" purposes. TPTB finally relented, (After all, we had beat them at their own game on several occasions) with the proviso that we call our parents and get permission from them. So we all used the Office phone, calling time and temp, and pretending to talk to our parents. Long Story short, we saw JFK arrive in a helicopter and listened to his speech. I was, at this time already a leader in our local Youth for Goldwater organization, a year before the election of '64. This was about four days before Kennedy would be shot by Oswald & Company in Dallas.

Nobody that lived thru those days can forget where they were when they learned JFK had been shot, just as they remember what they were doing when Armstrong touched his boot on the Moon, or when they first heard about 9-11. I was in the crowded Hall at school, in between classes going to my next class, when a girl I didn't know passed me saying to me "The president's been shot". I could tell by the look in her eyes she was serious. That moment was a turning point in my life as well as the life of our nation. The age of Innocence died with those bullets in Dallas that morning.

On the blackboard in homeroom was one of the "Bon Mots" as the teacher called them, one-liners that I wrote every morning. Still up there for everyone to see were the words "What this country needs is another good ex-president". Definitely not the way I meant it. Senator Barry Goldwater's campaign was doomed from that moment, even tho we were to fight the good fight. I remember what my thoughts were when that young girl told be Kennedy was shot and they were:" If Kennedy is dead, God help us if Lyndon Johnson is President now." He was, and it would mean I would be going to Viet Nam in a few years.... So it goes. -30-

GREASY KID STUFF

It's 4:46 am , dark out and Patrick is with Junior downstairs playing Grand Theft Auto.

Yesterday Junior was putting some goop in his hair, and it reminded me of the Brylcreme TV jingle of the late 50's-early 60's:

Brylcreme, a little dab'll do ya,
Use more, only if you dare!
Brylcreme, the girls'll all pursue ya,
They'll love to get their fingers in your hair!

Ad of course that reminded me of cool teanage hearthrob Edd "Kookie" Burns of "kookie, Lend me your Comb" fame, the beatnik-percurser-to-Fonzie parking lot jockie from the TV show "77 Sunset Strip". I missed the first few original seasons of that classic show, because our local ABC station was one of these new-fangled UHF stations, that our TV set didn't pick up. We could've bought a converter box to sit on top of the TV, but they were expensive. (our old TV was a piece of FURNITURE, it had wooden doors that closed over the screen). And of course that reminded me of the TV theme song--how can I remember the lyrics after all these years?

77Sunset Strip! (snap! snap!)
77Sunset Strip!
77Sunset Strip!
You meet the highbrow and the hipster,
the starlet and the phoney tipster,
You meet just every type of guy and gal,
Including a Private Eye!

Don't worry ,I know the lyrics to many TV shows, mostly western, I'll eventually bring all of them to you. Remember Effrem Zimbalist Junior and Roger Smith? I think Roger Smith was Ann-Margaret's husband, who became an invalid in later days. So it goes. -30-

PRESIDENT NUMBER TWO

It's 5:17 a.m. dark out, 72 degrees and Patrick got up and crawled into bed with Junior.

The second President I saw, after Harry S Truman, was Ike in 1960 at the 50th Anniversary Boy Scout Jamboree in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He was the first sitting president I saw. He drove thru the encampment in a convertible. Our patrol was the Beachcombers, comprised mostly of scouts from my home troop, Troop 37, Clearwater, Florida, of which I was the Patrol Leader. The other patrol of Jamboree Troop 58 was the Trojans, a bunch of Greek Scouts from Tarpon Springs. (In those days, Tarpon Springs was a Greek Sponge fishing community on the Gulf. The colorful sponge boats were a favorite of artists, including my Dad. There was a market in the middle of town where the sponges were auctioned off. There was a Greek orthodox Church and much of the Greek heritage was preserved, including an Epiphany celebration where the young Greek boys would dive into the harbor to retrieve a silver cross thrown by a priest. The boy who got it was feted as a hero of the parade that followed. There was a fancy Greek Restaurant in town, with the best REAL Greek salads and those black olives that are so salty, feta cheese and potato salad on the bottom. There was a cafe that had a rotisserie in the window with lamb on it, where I ate, in the 60's, my first Gyros (pronounced YEAR-ose) and it was so good, I thought they should mass market them in a fast food chain and make a mint. Eventually somebody did -- So it goes. There is a movie starring a young Robert Wagner set in Tarpon. Wagner is cast as a deep sea diver in the bulky canvas suit and big metal helmit, attached to the boat by an umbilical air hose and tether, picking sponges off the sea bottom with a rake... ) Ike was a beloved old character, our Hero of WWII, a Strong Leader , who played Golf a lot during his relatively calm presidency of the 50's. That was then... -30-

EXODUS

iT'S 5:24 A.M. , 63 DEGREES OUT, and dark and Patrick is outside.

"This Land is Mine--God gave this land to me!" Lyrics to the movie theme song "Exodus" --written by a Christian Evangelical--Pat Boone. Well, I guess the Gaz strip is not their land. The images of Israel soldiers, with tears trickling down their che-30-eks as Jewish settlers shout at them is poignant indeed....-30-

ISLAMIC JIHAD

It's 5:35 a.m., dark and foggy out and 64 degrees. Patrick got up and jumped into bed with Junior.

It is important to some members of the MSM to repeatedly tell us that Islam is a wonderful peaceful religion, it's just that their leaders are off base, calling for the slaughter of innocents, and glorifying death by suicide - murder, the seventy virgins, et.al. but there's got to be something to it. The witch trials by the Puritans and the Inquisition and the destruction of Mayan culture by the Catholics pales in insignificance to the potential evil that is being perpetrated today in the name of Islam. Unlike the excesses of Christianity, today's lunatic leaders of Islam are in danger of causing the extinction of their race. If it comes to that, the Civilized world will not hesitate to eradicate them and all traces of them. That's just the way it is.

Note to the GAZA settlers who are resisting their withdrawal (One even cried into a camera "We have nothing! We're on the street!") If our government would pay ME $400,000. I'd move in a New York Minute!!! -30-

SOLDIER'S MOTHER DISHONORS HIS SERVICE

It's 6:18, cloudy, foggy and 63 degrees out. Patrick got up, then went back to bed with Junior.

This stupid woman who is camping out in Texas by GW's ranch with her entourage of 60's style peaceniks has overplayed her hand and exposed herself for the self-serving glory hound leftist she reallly is. I question her motives and sincerity now that she has started using her MSM platform to expound on other subjects besides the Iraq War (Isreal). She has played the grieving mother card one times too many. She trivializes and dishonors her dead son's service to his country. It's all about HER now. She woke up one morning and said to herself: "Now that my son has been killed, I've got STANDING, I'm going to be a MEDIA STAR for my peace cause." In other words, she's not a mother turned pacifist. She's a pacifist turned media star with special cachet. This may sound harsh and mean spirited, but hair stylists giving her a new doo at her Texas peacenik trailer park? Her husband just filed for divorce; he's had enough of crazy woman.
Her "you killed my son!" statement to the president is sick. I wish the MSM would reiterate more often that SHE HAS ALLREADY HAD FACETIME WITH THE PRESIDENT as well as his top advisors. Does she think SHE should have instant access to him whenever she wants it? This whole episode is just another sad example of the MSM's devotion to an agenda, as opposed to devotion to unbiased journalism. Otherwise, they would just dismiss her as a nut-case kook and ignore her instead of giving us hourly udates on her antics. They don't cover every naughty child that threatens to hold it's breathe or throws a fit... She's a disgrace and so is the MSM. If this happened during World War II, she's be stoned. Hope none of that neighbor's bird shot falls on her head while she's in her porta-potty. Where's Hanoi Jane when you need her? -30-

MEAN PEOPLE

It's 6:51 a.m., 76 degrees out, cloudy and misty. Patrick is still in bed.

Why are some people just plain Nasty? Why do they treat others with malice for no reason? Part of it is they are really, really stupid. part of it is ignorance. The ignorance MIGHT go away, but they wil ALWAYS be stupid. It's sad. They must be very unhappy. We're talking about a fellow geocacher, GERBILMAFIA. His soul is tarnished with searing hatred. I hope he gets better. Ah, so it goes. -30-

THE GREATEST RACEHORSE

It's 6:15, Patrick got up and went back to bed with Junior, it's foggy out and overcast. We had our first BIG thunderstorm /rainfall of the season yesterday, so maybe the drought of '05 is broken.

In the early seventies, I lived in Fitchberg, Leominster, and Gardner in Massachusettes with Harmon. In those days we were Racing afficianadoes and visited the harness tracks and dog tracks with some regularity. When, in 1973 , Secretariate was poised to win the Triple Crown, we decided to become witnesses. The wonder horse had set the record at the Kentucky Derby, a disputed record at the Preakness, and was to set the record at the Belmont stakes, and set the record for the North American Mile, all of which stand to this day, over thirty years later.

We looked on the map, saw "Belmont Park" on Long Island, and off we went. It turns out that wasn't the Track. OOPS! But we did make it, with only mere minutes to spare, arriving after the third race of the day. We were in the grandstands. At the post parade, no one had to point out the favorite. He stood out from the rest, big and red and magnificent.They're Off! At the far turn, I could no longer see the field. Everyone was standing, and The crowd caused Tunnel Vision for me. Here comes Secretariate! He crosses the finish line. But where are the other horses? They weren't there. Had some catastrophe befell ALL of them at the last turn? Where ARE they? Finally, here they came, THIRTY lengths behind the winner... This one was of the greatest moments in Sports History, and Harmon and I witnessed it. Two minutes of Glory we will never forget. And I've got the two dollar win ticket to prove it! Later, we traveled to Saratoga Springs to watch the great one in a shorter race. We were at the rail, so we got a good close up of this magnificent champion, Lafitte Pincay up. He was beat in his race by a nondescript speed horse whose name is indelibly etched on my brain: Onion. Many years later, when the great horse died, they did an autopsy and found his heart to be MUCH larger than average. Sort of like Lance Armstrong. So it goes! -30-

DIE, ENGLIUSH, DIE!

It's 5:39 a.m., Patrick crawled into bed with Junior, it's 73 degrees out and humid and dark.

One of the things that separates us from the animals is our Language. It is what allows us to think abstractly and communicate difficult subjects like philosophy or quantum physics. But certain foolish elements in our society are allowing our language to deteriorate into a gutteral slang fit only for monkeys. MSM is one of the big criminals in this activity." Preventative Maintenance" has long been one of my biggest irritants. And of course "irregardless" is on the top of anybody's list that realizes that English is being methodically reduced to the common denominator suitable for idiots. The latest ridiculousness takes the form of "warrantee" used as a verb or used to mean "guarantee". Who is the idiot ad-man who thunk this up? And who are the evil sheep-monsters who followed his lead? "The company will warantee this product.." NOT! The word they're so desparately searching for is simply "warrent". Warantee is the PERSON to whom you GIVE the warrant or warranty. Did some genius Ad-Man make this up and figure "our customers will fall for this new word assuming it's somehow newer and better than "guarantee". Or was he just an illiterate Boob? These are the same kind of morons that steal millions of dollars from honest folks because they try to drive and drink hot coffee at the same time, or want to sue gun manufacturers because some criminal shot them...I tell you true, I am living in a world I did not make, inhabited by twilight-zone zombie people....And, unfortunatly, that's the way it is....-30-

LOST

Well, it's 5:39 a.m., 75 degrees outside, and dawning. Patrick got up, crawled into bed with Junior.

I just had an inspiration about the TV show "LOST" which they've been repeating at ten o'clock on Wenesday nights. Maybe they are giving us more clues than we think. The famous white polar bear that has attacked them twice, the second time attacking Walt, and who is shown in the Spanish language comic book--has been made to come to life by walt himself--remember the bird that flew into the window in Australia, that he conjured up? Hmmm...First Season DVD comes out next month. Stay tuned. -30-

GRAND THEFT AUTO

It's 5:52 a.m., 68 degrees outside, and light haze in the distance. The little white dog is on the fron porch.

Junior rented the latest version of Grand Theft Auto to play on his X-Box. It's really sick. This is the version that you can reportedly make XXX rated with a download from the net to your X-Box hard drive. He played it for about five hours--you can run over people with a combine and watch their bloody remains being discharged from the chute. Has this civilization gone over the edge? Seems like it may be time for the pendulum to swing back the other way...-30-

WOMEN DRIVERS

Well, it's 6:25 a.m., Patrick is outside, and it's hazy at three quarters of mile, and 70 degrees.

If I see ONE more woman driver with a cell phone plastered to her ear or her head up her ass, speeding thru a parking lot full of pedestrians, my head will explode! 'nuff said. -30-

WOWO

iT'S 5:39 A.M. and Earthdog Patrick is outside. It's 68 degrees and outside the window there is slight ground fog.

STS Discovery is due to land shortly in California, at least that's what they say on WOWO, 1190 AM in Ft. Wayne Indiana, an all-talk radio station. I used to listen to WOWO almost 50 years ago growing up in Clearwater , Fla. I had an old wooden table radio by my bed and late at night I would pick up WOWO, then a 50,000 watt clear channel station to listen to top forty rock and roll. Could also pick up KAAY in (Little Rock?) and WLS, the Dick Bianati(sic) show in Chicago-- it seems all the clear channel station's frequencies ended in 90 in those days, the 60's--the still night of our ranch-home neighborhood, newly coverted from a grapefruit grove, punctuated only by the lonesome wail of the Orange Blossom Special... who knew then I would end up thirty miles from WOWO's transmitter?So it goes.
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THE REAL-LIFE UNDEAD

It's 5:38, Patrick got up and went back to bed with Junior. It's 67 degrees out, visibility about ten miles.

It is our fervent hope that the middle eastern societies' leaders wake from their drug-induced slumbers and view clearly the state of affairs that has consumed them. They must exterminate the vermine in their midst, so that the civilized world won't be forced to turn their medieval culture into a minor footnote of history.

When I was in the U.S. Army, we hated our enemy, but we respected his abilities. He waged a ruthless and brutal war against his own civilian population, just as out present-day enemy does. But at least he had an inkling of what he was fighting for, and had some vision, however misguided,for the future.


Today's enemy is comprised of mindless zombie-puppets of the souless minions of Evil. That's just the way it is.

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EARLIEST MEMORIES

Well, it's 5:55 and Patrick's outside because Junior got up and went to work early today. It's 67 degrees and there is light ground fog out the window.

My earliest memory is of falling out of a gimongous black sedan onto gravel and cutting my knee. After more than fifty years the scar is still faintly visible. Another early memory is studying about Red wing blackbirds at a group meeting of kids run by a neighbor mom. I think it was a regular thing but not part of an organized group. Another early memory is confessing to my mom that I had a girlfriend, and needed a gift to go to her birthday party. That was probably second grade, I would have been seven. I entered the University of Florida in the fall of 1965 at age seventeen. I guess that's when all my women problems began...For those of you wondering, there will be no invasion by ET's this year. I have it on the highest authority. -30-

EARLIEST MEMORIES

Well, it's 5:55 and Patrick's outside because Junior got up and went to work early today. It's 67 degrees and there is light ground fog out the window.

My earliest memory is of falling out of a gimongous black sedan onto gravel and cutting my knee. After more than fifty years the scar is still faintly visible. Another early memory is studying about Red wing blackbirds at a group meeting of kids run by a neighbor mom. I think it was a regular thing but not part of an organized group. Another early memory is confessing to my mom that I had a girlfriend, and needed a gift to go to her birthday party. That was probably second grade, I would have been seven. I entered the University of Florida in the fall of 1965 at age seventeen. I guess that's when all my women problems began...For those of you wondering, there will be no invasion by ET's this year. I have it on the highest authority. -30-

NCAA OUTLIVES USELFULNESS

Well, it's 7:07 am, 66 degrees out the window and clear. Patrick got up and of course drdagged his little dog ass into bed with Junior.

I'm incensed at the shear stupidity of the NCAA in its latest effort to force schools to change their mascot's name from Native American to something else. Schools such as FSU, Illinois and Utah will not be allowed to host tournaments or display their mascots in post-season play. This is PC gone insane! (The Seminoles, it may be noted, have permission from the Florida tribe to use the name). I just wonder exactly WHAT these weirdos are in the NCAA that have taken up this silly childish cause. What country did they grow up in? Aar they even from this planet? What happened to their tortured souls to twist their minds into blubbery piles of excrement? I have no problem with opinions different my mine, but this whole "Braves is degrading" thing is just sick thinking--it's insane! Politican Correctness is going to destroy America and our cherished freedoms. I would hope that FSU would lead a crusade to overhaul the NCAA and it's present leadership, or set up a rival organization, one not now tainted with the stench of pointy hatted dumbness. And that's the way it is. -30-

MOVIE REVIEW: THE PUNISHER

It's 5:14 a.m. and still dark out the window. Patrick got up and promtly got in bed with Junior. He needs his 20 hours sleep per day. It's 71 degrees out.

Junior took me to the video store last night and he rented "The Punisher" with John Travolta and Rebecca Romain (sic). I wanted to see what she looked like and whether or not she could act, after seeing her in the X-men movies. She looks fine nekkid and all blue as "Mystique" but as a human all we got was a short scene as Grace.

Punisher is another Marvel comics hero brought to the big screen and is a good watch if you like plenty of shooting and racing vintage GTO's, which we do. There ARE some places where you have to suspend all belief, which you shouldn't have to, as this is an action adventure, not a super hero or science fiction flick. For example the assassination team blows everybody away on the beach, and eventually Punisher in a very unprofessional anad sloppy manner. Ditto, the assassin from Memphis, who alerts his prey with his twelve string and a song...Un, don't think so. Anyway, I give it two thumbs up, but I think Becky is under-utilized. I'm not sure WHY she was cast. Certainly not to give her cache as a Super-Model to the film's credits--It's already got Travolta for Box office appeal. And they dress her in the most unflattering of costumes and don't exploit her sensuality at all--There's no love scene, not even any flirting, frankly we don't get it. She does a creditable acting job, but she's not asked to give much. Maybe she just wanted to do a film in which she could say, "Look, I can do a movie in which I'm plain and boring, unattractive and understated." Donno. So it goes.

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MY FIRST PRESIDENT: Truman

It's 6:10 a.m., Patrick's still in bed. It's 73 degrees and clear, but cloudy out the window.

I've seen most of the presidents in person, in the early part of my life. Harry S Truman was President when I was born. In 1960 I had the priviledge of attending the 50th Anniversary BSA National Jamboree in Colorado Springs. I was the Patrol Leader of Jamboree Troop 58's Beachcomber Patrol, comprised mostly of scouts from my own hometown Troop 37, Clearwater, Fla. Our campsite was on the very edge of the Jamboree, and my tent was on the edge of our campsite. So when I got up every morning, and pulled the tent flap aside, I had a magnificent unobstructed view of Pike's Peak and its early morning clouds hovering over it.(Today's photo is of Patrick burying part of his bone collection)

We got to the Jambo 0n a train, that picked up cars on the way. In Independence , Mo. we debarked to visit the Truman Library, and he was there to greet us and give a little speech. He was the only American President, indeed the only Leader of any country, to ever conduct Nuclear Warfare. So it goes.

POLITICAL ASSASSIN #1

It's 5:32 a.m. and 66 degrees and foggy otside the window. Patrack got up with me, then promply scooted to Junior's room and crawled into bed with him. Yesterday was third day in a row of 95 degree heat.

In late 1969 or early 1970 I was stationed at Ft. Leslie J. McNair in Washington, D.C., the only Army installation in the District. It shares, with West Point, as being the oldest continously operating Army installation in the country. It started life as the Washington Arsenal, and was the scene of the trial and hanging of the Lincoln Assassination Conspirators. It features a row of southern type mansions with big columns in front, backing on the Washington Channel for Pentagon Generals not quite important enough to get a berth across the Potomac. A contingent of the 3rd Army (The old Guard) was stationed there, as well, the fellows who Guard the Toomb of the Unknowns and bury people at Arlington. When I was there, there were three government schools there, the Army War College ( not to be confused with the one in Carlisle Barrracks, Pa.), the Inter-American Defence College and one other. There was so much brass on base, that by convention, you weren't required to salute them, unless you were right on top of them...

Anyway for a while I was boss of the VOQ, Visiting Officers Quarters, a world war two barracks, that sheltered tempory old Colonels visiting Washington, who wanted free government housing. It was like a motel, and I took reservations, generally ran the place, and had a colored maid. The best part of it was I had my own room, instead of having to live with the rest of the grunts in the open bay barracks.

Joe Quinn, a private from Ohio, was my best friend in those days, and he was boss of the BOQ, Bachelors Officers Quarters, a modern facility which served as housing for unmarried officers assigned to the base. One of Joe's Tenents was Col. Rosas.

Colonel Rosas was from Bolivia. In South America Colonels are the equvalent of our Generals. He was attending classes at the Inter-American Defense College, where we trained South American military types how to fight communism and overthrow their governments. Joe and I got drunk on cheap Scots Whisky one night with the Colonel.

He told us, in broken English, that he was the commanding officer of the unit that captured and killed Che Gueverra. Gueverra was in charge of exporting the Cuban Communist Revolution to Latin America. Col. Rosas saiad he ordered his sergeant to gun down the captiveGueverra, which he did. The Colonel punctuated his story with a "brrrrrrp" sound he made to imitate a machine gun. Was he telling the truth? I don't know. For all I know ALL Bolivian Colonels tell the same story to unsuspecting foreigners to gain respect. Some drunks lie, others get very truthful. We believed him. He was the first of three political Assassins I've met. So it goes.
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THE RUSSIAN BASTARD

Well, it's 5:58 a.m. and out the window it's 63 degrees and I can see light ground fog in the distance. Didn't finish all the pizza yesterday, so it's cold pizza again today, good! Patrick is outside. He was a little needy last night and actually wanted to cuddle.

I was born on November 11, 1947 in Buffalo, New York. My mother's name was "Brown" and she was staying with an aunt to have a baby.. My name was "Stephen". She gave me up for adoption and I was raised in a foster home(s) until adopted by my parents when I was about a year and a half old. My mother was of Welch extract, which makes me a direct descendant of Alfred the Great, the only English monarch with that designation.. My father was a World War II veteran, a rifle repairman. I don't know his name. He didn't marry my mother. His parents were born in Russia, and emigrated to the U.S. when they were children. That's about all I know or probably ever will know. So it goes.

Way to go, President Bush, for appointing John Bolton to the U.N. representative post. The Unloyal Opposition is grinding their hypocritical teeth over this one....

In the world I grew up in, on the West Coast of Florida, both the Republicans and the Democrats had left wings and right wings. Remember Goldwater and Rockefeller? Now the parties are polarized and it makes more sense: Republicans, Conservative, for limited government, Morality, Capitalism, and Nationalism, and Democrats, Liberal, for Dictatorship, Godlessness, Socialism, and One-Worldness. The difference is, in the 60's, the liberals had ideals and were honest and really believed in the misguided goals they espoused. The leaders of today's modern Democrat Hypocracy Party are devoid of all honesty and flip flop continually because all they really want is POWER. So it goes...

Hanoi Jane

It's 6:22 a.m. and there's left over Pizza Hut bacon pizza in the reefer for breakfast. It's 62 degrees out and heavy ground fog. Patrick is outside.

Hanoi Jane was on the tube yesterday being interviewed by one of the network info-babes , another instance of hawking her latest tell-all book in which she confesses to being a skank and whore. No aploogies this time for her aid to North Viet Nam. She mentions her trip to Hanoi as being a "brave" act. The infamous film clip of her laughing her head off while sitting in an NVA anti-aircfat gun-enplacement was shown. She characterized this as a "lapse in judgement" or words to that effect. She still doesn't get it. She stated that the "statute of limitations " should be up for Veterans hating her for this. Sorry, Jane--History affords no pardon for Traitors--ask Benedict Arnold.

So now she's planning on a soybean fueled Bus Tour to protest the war in Iraq. She hasn't changed a bit. what it is, is --is not so much that she loves America's enemies-- she just HATES AMERICA and all that it stands for. She doesn't have a world view of the U.S. as a modern Rome, not conquering the world, but sacrificing her sons blood to bring civilization and Democracy and prosperity to the world for the last hundred years. Why does Jane hate America? Becasue she hates America's VALUES-- Self government, Christianity, Moraliaty--you name it. We have it on special autahority that the special place in hell that is being constructed just for her, is almost ready...

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