The Time He Said It?

My youngest granddaughter, Miss M, is a beautiful young brunette with lots of smarts (she’s in advanced classes at school), but there are days when I swear that she has a ditzy blonde caught somewhere in her head. Example?

My daughter A related this story to me and it’s so precious that I can’t wait for her to blog it so I will. Apparently a friend of Miss C’s, my oldest grand child, gave her one of those “Jesus” cards with the Bible quote “For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son…” Miss C brought the card home to show her family and after reading the quote Miss M grabbed the card to read it herself.

Now under the quote the card gave the book, chapter and verse as John 3:16. The blonde in Miss M leapt out and asked “Is this the time he said it?”

I’m still rolling on the floor! You just have to love Miss M’s M-ism’s!

Mr. Socks Dies

Socks, the First Cat in the Clinton Whitehouse, died Friday, 20 February 2008. A stray rescued in Alabama by Chelsea Clinton, Socks was 20 years old. He died in Hollywood, Maryland, of throat cancer. He had spent his last year’s in the home of Betty Currie the personal secretary of Bill Clinton while he was president.

Socks was probably America’s most famous cat. During his White House years many famous figures had their photo’s taken with Socks. I am sure that he will be remembered by many American’s.

So here’s to Sock’s! Have fun chasing mouse angles in Kitty Heaven!

Bloody Valentines

Bechca didn’t known that Valentines Days has its roots in a Roman feast celebrated on the Ides of February (15 February) called the feast of Lupercalis. On that day those old Romans celebrated a rite of fertility by having naked men run through town carrying the skins of newly sacrificed goats dipped in blood. The women of the town would present themselves to be gently slapped by the strips and marked by the blood to improve their chances of conceiving in the coming year. Uck! Want to be my bloody Valentine?

(No wonder that Al Capone picked Valentine's Day to off his seven enemy type buddies in that Chicago garage thus creating the “Saint Valentine‘s Day Massacre“.)

But then came the Christian’s who just couldn’t have naked young men running around town so in 496 Pope Gelasius officially declared February 14 to be the feast day of two Roman martyrs, both named Saint Valentine, who lived in the 3rd century. Neither Saint Valentine seems to have an obvious connection to courtship or lovers. So out with the naked guys.

But you just can’t get rid of a good thing so despite attempts by the Church to sanctify the holiday, the association of Valentine’s Day with romance and courtship continued through the Middle Ages. In medieval France and England it was believed that birds mated on February 14, and the image of birds as the symbol of lovers began to appear in poems dedicated to the day. By the 18th century it was common for friends and lovers to exchange handwritten notes on Valentine’s Day. Printed cards had largely replaced written sentiments by the 19th century. Today, Valentine’s Day is second only to Christmas as the most popular card-sending holiday.

But, Hey, I’m all for bringing back the naked guys running in the streets, but without the goat skins. Maybe, we could add naked girls too?

Happy Valentines Day ya’ll.

Baked Plank Anyone?

It’s winter in Virginia so the Chesapeake Bay is full of Scoters (also called Coots on the East Coast). Scoters are a stocky Sea Duck that summer in Canada and Alaska, but winter on the Pacific and East Coasts of North America. In Virginia you can see Surf Scoters, White Winged Scoters and Black Scoters all along the Chesapeake Bay looking for a nice mollusk dinner.

Oyster, clam and mussel eating birds sound kind of tasty, but Mama Nature has a way about her, just check out these two New England recipes from a 1924 edition of Field and Stream:

Put the scoter in a large pot of water and place a flat iron or anvil on top or the duck. Boil for a goodly time and when you can stick a fork into the flat iron or anvil the Scoter is ready to eat. Or,

Nail the duck to a large plank, place the plank in the sun for a week. Carefully remove the Scoter from the plank and toss to your cat. Cook the plank.

So all you guys and gals who “shoot only to eat,” get your shotguns out and go shoot some Scoters. I’m sure your families will enjoy the anvil or the plank.

Demon Power

My grand son J has decided that his grand dad’s power company is the Demon Power Company. At least that what he told Miss A last night when I needed the telephone number for Dominion Power my REAL power company during a power outrage down at the beach. You have to love how those little ones of ours can mess up the simply easy things in their little lives.

Go for it J. You’re probably right anyway!

Three and a Half Hours!

The events are real, the time lines have been adjusted for readability purposes!

I have a teenage grand daughter, Miss C. She is bright, articulate, smart as a whip and a sassy spoken lassie. But, she has a flaw, a flaw I guess a lot of today’s teenagers are starting to exhibit.

I’m hell on wheels about this new flaw, your not allowed to practice it when your alone with me. I call it the “cell phone texting syndrome.” It is exhibited by the need to be constantly texting friends, animals, Martians and anyone else in the known Universe who has a cell phone whose number you know.

Miss C comes home from school and disappears into her bedroom not to be seen until dinner, then disappears again not to be seen until the next morning (which is fine with her siblings). Ask any member of her family what’s she is doing and you’ll be told she’s texting. And, I thought she was doing homework -- I knew she wasn’t cleaning her room.

I really didn’t known until recently how much she texted on her cell phone until her Mother, Miss A, told me that Miss C’s cell phone bill listed over 14,000 incoming texts and a little over 13,000 outgoing texts. That’s about 433 outgoing texts a day and if you give each text message 30 seconds to compose and send that’s approximately 216 minutes or 3 ½ hours a day. Since Miss C has kept her grades up and meets most of her household commitments, that 3 ½ hours is coming from somewhere else and she admits that time is from sleeping. No wonder she’s been looking so hollow eyed. If you ask me that’s a bit much (I have 22 outgoing calls on my cell phone from the last three months!).

It’s a bit much for her mother too; so she grabbed up the cell phone and limited it to use for when Miss C is out of the house. Then I watched Miss C go into cell phone withdrawal. You could see her walking around the house with a vacant look on her face and her hands constantly reaching back to her back pockets looking for her cell phone. She said her fingers itched and she couldn’t keep them still. After an hour without her phone she was screaming at her mother “OK! I’m addicted to my cell phone, I need it back!”

Of course she didn’t get it back but it shows how much our kids can get hooked on the damm things. Her Mother will be working on limiting Miss C’s phone usage but I think I’ll stay away for a while. Things could get tough at my daughters for a while, twitching fingers and all.

Abecedarians

Sometimes you run into a new word, for you, that makes so much sense that you can’t help but admire the English language for its beauty. I found just that word this morning on my daily word list widget - Abecedarian (a·be·ce·dar·i·an) or A B C darian. Now I’m sure you’ve guessed it already, but, a Abecedarian is someone learning the basics of literacy or a subject. In other words, learning their A B C’s.

So give your little, or big, Abecedarians a hug and tell them how good Abecedarians they are and enjoy using the English language a little more than before.

Cat Herding

When I grow up I want to be a Cat Herder just like these guys.



Believe it or not this was a Super Bowl commercial for EDS. Even football geeks can like cats I guess. Get along little Kittie!

Stupid Decisions

While watching the Obama Inauguration Special on HBO this afternoon I listened to all the allusions to the past and future events of our county. So being born and raised in California I of course began to think of the stupid things that happened in that great state in the past that affected it’s future.

So here’s today’s lesson from California, the "Stupid Decision State."

Stupid Decision Number One: San Francisco Cable Car System. The decision to let the system go from 12 lines down to three during the 1930's. You can bet that San Francisco's present municipal government would love to just shoot those guys running the city then. What a tourist dollar loss! Ding Dong Dumb!

Stupid Decision Number Two: Venice, California Canals. The decision to fill-in 14 of the original 16 miles of Venice, California's canals, leaving only two miles of the canal system in 1929. I can double, triple guarantee that today's Los Angeles city fathers would love to have those 14 miles back considering what the tax value would be today. Never fill-in a water way you might need later to drown your stupid ass.

Stupid Decision Number Three: Pacific Electric Railway. The 1954 decision to eliminate the "Red Cars" which at it's high point had over 1000 miles of track, connecting Los Angles, Orange, Riverside and San Bernardino counties with a real rapid transit system. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. All those rails and land rights gone. I bet that every time today's Los Angeles area politicians look at the cost of land, rails and construction they could just cry. Never, ever, let a good thing die, you might need it in the future!

So ends the lesson.

Mean Mama's

“Mean Mama’s” permeate our culture in art, literature, music, theater, film and I belive the meanest has to be music's the Queen of the Night from the “Magic Flute.”



Edda Moser sings "Der Holle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen ("hell's vengeance boils in my heart") from Mozart's Magic Flute

Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen,
Tod und Verzweiflung flammet um mich her!
Fühlt nicht durch dich Sarastro Todesschmerzen,
So bist du meine Tochter nimmermehr.
Verstossen sei auf ewig,
Verlassen sei auf ewig,
Zertrümmert sei'n auf ewig
Alle Bande der Natur
Wenn nicht durch dich Sarastro wird erblassen!
Hört, Rachegötter, hört der Mutter Schwur!

Hell's vengeance boileth in mine heart,
Death and despair flame about me!
If Sarastro does not through thee feel the pain of death,
Then wilt thou be my daughter nevermore.
Disownéd be forever,
Forsaken be forever,
Destroyed be forever
All the bonds of nature
If you do not make Sarastro turn pale!
Hear, Gods of Vengeance, hear a mother's oath

The Bible has Herodias, who convinces her daughter Salome , to ask Herod to "Give me the head of John the Baptist on a big plate". Then there is Faye Dunaway in her role as Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest. Now Joan Crawford comes off as one of films great “Mean Mama‘s” (who can ever forget the “No more wire hanger” moment?).

Of course we don’t want to forget the Internet’s current “Mean Mama” who advertised "OLDS 1999 Intrigue. Totally uncool parents who obviously don't love teenage son, selling his car. Only driven for three weeks before snoopy mom who needs to get a life found booze under front seat. $3,700/offer. Call meanest mom on the planet."

But the meanest “Mean Mama” has to be the Queen of the Night form Mozart’s opera “The Magic Flute.” Her aria "Hell's vengeance boils in my heart", depicts a fit of vengeful rage, in which the Queen of the Night puts a knife into the hand of her daughter Pamina and exhorts her to assassinate Sarastro, the Queen's rival, on pain of denying and cursing Pamina if she does not comply. How would you like to be disowned forever, forsaken forever and destroyed forever by your loving Mommy? Now if you ask me that’s one mean Mama!

Besides the lyrics, which were written by Mozart’s friend Emanuel Schikaneder, the music in mean too. The aria is considered to be one of the most famous opera arias, highly memorable, fast paced and menacingly grandiose. It is widely renowned for being a demanding piece to perform well. The artistic demands of the dramatic context, a vengeful demand for murder, put a heavy demand on even the well-qualified voice.

Sung well you can’t help get the general idea that this Queen of the Night is one really mean piece of work. So let’s hear it for my nomination of music’s “Mean Mama”, the Queen of the Night!

p.s.
By the way I think Edda Moser is the BEST Queen of the Nignt and has a truly "well qualified voice". On the other hand... Listen if you dare to Florence Foster Jenkins who made a good living as the "worse" opera singer ever (she said she never sang badily - oh yeah?.

Feast of the Holy Innocents

For this blog entry I am going to to take a serious religious tone - for of all the Anglican feast days the “Feast of the Holy Innocents” has always had special meaning for me. For some reason it hits me the hardest for it truly shows how much man’s hatred can be, even to the children of man.

After the visit of the Magi, Herod, in rage and jealousy, slaughtered all the baby boys in Bethlehem and surrounding countryside in an attempt to destroy his perceived rival, the infant Messiah. These "innocents" are honored by the Church as martyrs. On, this day, in our own times, it is appropriate to recall the vast host of children who suffer innumerable forms of violence which threaten their lives, dignity and right to education.
Matthew 2:13-18
Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Rise, take the Child and His mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there till I tell you: for Herod is about to search for the Child, to destroy Him." And he rose and took the Child and His mother by night, and departed to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, "Out of Egypt have I called My Son."

Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, was in a furious rage, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time which he had ascertained from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:

"A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation: Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled because they were no more."

My Prayer for the Feast of the Holy Innocents

O God, whose praise the martyred innocents did this day proclaim, not by speaking, but by dying: Destroy in us all the malice of sinfulness, that our lives may also proclaim thy faith, which our tongues profess. Through our Lord. Amen.

Christmas Numbers

It’s the day after Christmas, Saint Stephen’s Day (the feast day of the first Christian martyr), and it’s time to take a look at the Christmas numbers from yesterday. The big numbers:

Number of batteries put in use was probably enough to run a household with all lights on for a year;

Number of first time calls made on brandy new cell phones was, I’m sure, enough to jam a cell tower or two nation wide;

The number of Chocolate covered Cherries eaten, and not eaten, could probably circumnavigate the globe a few times;

The number of Fruit Cakes turned into door stops was surpassed only by the number of Chocolate cherries above;

Hopefully the number of gift cards given out was enough to make up for the really bad pre-Christmas sales the retailers said they had this year;

The number of “I didn’t get what I wanted” was bigger than “I got what I wanted” and “I got what I wanted” was sure bigger than “I got what I deserved.”

The other big numbers:

Number of unwanted ties given was probably second only to the number given on Father’s Day;

Total number of long distance telephone calls made was second only to those made on Mother’s Day;

Number of Turkey’s and Hams eaten can only be surpassed by the number of Turkey’s eaten on Thanksgiving Day and Hams by the number eaten on Easter Day.

The littlest number: The number of times someone took the time to say “Happy Birthday Jesus!”

Say a prayer for Saint Stephen and remember that tomorrow is the “Feast of the Holy Innocents.”

And, Happy New Year!

Five Christmas Don'ts

Every year around the 20th of December I seem to need the Kleenex truck to back up to my door and deliver a thousand boxes of tissues to last me the rest of the month. All because I always break my five Christmas Don’ts!

Don’t watch Christmas movies. I haven’t found a Christmas type movie yet than won’t bring me to tears;

Don’t look at old Holiday photos, especially if they include my departed sweetheart, Miss J;

Don’t watch the movie “Fiddler on the Roof,” it doesn’t have a thing to do with Christmas by itself, but, Miss J and I saw it in Manila at Christmas, ‘72 (our first together) and it was always her favorite;

Don’t get caught up in other peoples Holiday angst, I have enough of my own to deal with; and,

Don’t listen to “Silent Night,” “Over the Rainbow,” or “When You Wish Upon A Star.” I have enough trouble with these darn three songs during the rest of the year - I don’t need to stress myself even more at Christmas.

Five easy Christmas Don’ts, but by the middle of every December I’ve broken them all at least once and that darn Kleenex truck needs to make it’s annual visit. Oh well, there’s always next year. Waaaah.

Merry Tacky Christmas

No other American holiday season can be more tacky than Christmas, except maybe our commercial conception of Easter. The tackier the better and I truly embrace this lovely tacky Christmas we have today, especially outdoor decorations. Nothing expresses tackiness as well.

I’m not talking about those all white electric hangings a lot of people are doing now-a-days, these I think are our way of praying for the icicle look of winter. No, I’m talking about the wild blends of colored electric lights and electric lit miscellany that comprise our tackier outdoor scenes. Christmas allows us to take outdoor decorations to real tacky extremes.

A good example takes in the whole house and front yard, must double you monthly electrical bill and be bright enough to rival a fully lit up airport:

White icicled eaves, windows and doors framed in colored lights are just the start. Now electrify all those winter bare trees with blue lit trunks and red lit branches. Wrap up the holly bushes with red, blue and yellow. Add electrified candy canes along the drive-way and garden paths and don’t forget to make a fence of them along the front perimeter. Now put a penguin on top of the camel; have Santa cavorting with the Three Wise guys; and mix up the Reindeers with the Holy Family. A electric pink flamingo adds Florida class and a Santa waving Merry Christmas helps. We’re getting there, but we’re not tacky enough just yet. For real tacky we need to add a few of the newest additions to Christmas - inflatable plastic! Add a Snoopy riding his snow covered house, a plastic globe with a snowman inside, a couple of inflatable Christmas trees and we have it. Real Tacky!

I love it! I couldn’t stand Christmas without outdoor tacky! Love tacky, enjoy tacky, embrace tacky and wait for Easter - it’s even better - it’s tasteless tacky!

The Legends Behind Christmas

I recently came across this little bit of fuff about Angels and Christmas Trees. Enjoy the legend.

How Angels Came To Be Atop The Tree

Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Ms. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had while making the toys. The reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters worse, they had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree.

Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours - all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree!

I sent that stupid Little Angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?"

Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. He says "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"

And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass........

My ship has a nick-name?

Sailor’s often really love their ships and they have various ways of showing their love One is to give the ship an affectionate nick-name, such as, “Connie” for the old carrier USS Constellation, “Mighty Mo” for the battleship USS Missouri or “Robbie for my old destroyer the USS Robison.

The Fleet has nick-names for these ships too - some not so affectionate. Over the year’s I’ve collected a few, some nice, some not so nice. The not so nice one’s are RARELY used by those who are, or have been, crew on the ship in question. So. . .

No Go Maru - the battleship USS Nevada and probably a lot of others known to have barky engines

Shitty Kitty - the carrier USS Kitty Hawk. Only used by those not part of her crew and never in the vicinity of any Kitty Hawk sailor’s if you didn’t want to start a fight

Dirty Ernie - the first nuclear carrier USS Enterprise. The fleet couldn’t resist this one what with her having no stacks spewing smoke and that nice clean atomic power stuff.

Starship Enterprise - the nuclear carrier USS Enterprise. Used by her crew and Navy PR folks. You get the connection, right?

Big E - the first carrier named USS Enterprise and probably by the crew of the present Enterprise.

Big John - the carrier USS John F Kennedy

Big Stick - The battleship USS Iowa and the carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt.

The old Adams class guided missile destroyer’s had a lot of fleet names, a lot of them derogatory. They had 1200 pound steam plants that tended to need a lot of attention and a very high metacentric height which made them top heavy and rough riders in moderate to heavy seas.

Rocking Robbie - USS Robison. Boy could she rock!

Brokenly - USS Berkeley. All the Adams class destroyers had their days when they just didn’t want to go.

Robbie Maru - USS Robison. Used when the steam plant broke down.

Waddling Wally - USS Waddell

Bucking Bucky - USS Buchanan

Shivering Towers - USS Towers

Any many others. . .

Chucky V - the carrier USS Charles Vinson

Connie - the carrier USS Constellation

Sara - both carriers named USS Saratoga

Inch-on - the amphibious ship the USS Inchon. Engine troubles?

Socar - the nuclear missile cruiser USS South Carolina

Sweet 16 - the missile cruiser USS Leahy (her hull number was DLG-16, then CG-16). I’ve also heard Shitty 16. . .

Blocka’ Wood - the amphibious ship USS Bella Wood. Also known more affectionately as Big Dog and Devil Dog.

Naushious - the amphibious ship USS Nassau. USS Naushious was the pet name used by the sailors of her sister ship USS Saipan. Hate to think what they called us.

Bedpan - the amphibious ship USS Saipan. See we had these bedpan washer’s. . ..I’ve also heard Shit Pan - that one started a fight.

Bonnie Dick - the amphibious ship USS Bonhomme Richard

Witless - the command ship USS Mount Whitney. Get this one?

There are more, some older, some newer. Since I’ve been out of the Navy I’ve been out of touch so I don’t know very many fleet names for today’s new ships. Not sure I really want to. If I have offended any ship mate’s from the ship’s I’ve named I’m sorry. It’s part of history, get a grip.

Writing History Again

President-elect Obama wants a massive public works project to repair roads, build rapid transit and make America green. Nice things to do with my tax money but let us not forget the finer things in life. In my last post I wanted Mr. Obama to put some money into some fine art in our modern built Post Offices. Now I want him to also open the money bags to today’s young writers, composers, geographers and cartographers.

From 1936 to 1943 the WPA and the States sponsored several projects for writers including Folklore Project and the Federal Writers Project. The Folklore Project included the Slave Narrative project and Life Histories Project. The Federal Writers Project included my favorite works: the American Guide Series. Now it’s time to do them all over again - with a few changes.

The Slave Narrative project concentrated on the history of slavery in the South gathering information from wills, slavery related papers and narratives from former slaves. The narratives are most informative because the writers use the exact language of the former slave, for example:

LULA FLANNIGAN Ex-slave, 78 years.
"Dey says I wuz jes fo' years ole when de war wuz over, but I sho' does member dat day dem Yankee sojers come down de road. Mary and Willie Durham wuz my mammy and pappy, en dey belong ter Marse Spence Durham at Watkinsville in slav'ry times."
"When word cum dat de Yankee sojers wuz on de way, Marse Spence en his sons wuz 'way at de war. Miss Betsey tole my pappy ter take en hide de hosses down in de swamp. My mammy help Miss Betsey sew up de silver in de cotton bed ticks. Dem Yankee sojers nebber did find our whitefolks' hosses and deir silver."
"Miss Marzee, she wuz Marse Spence en Miss Betsey's daughter. She wuz playin' on de pianny when de Yankee sojers come down de road. Two sojers cum in de house en ax her fer ter play er tune dat dey liked. I fergits de name er dey tune. Miss Marzee gits up fum de pianny en she low dat she ain' gwine play no tune for' no Yankee mens. Den de sojers takes her out en set her up on top er de high gate post in front er de big house, en mek her set dar twel de whole regiment pass by. She set dar en cry, but she sho' ain' nebber played no tune for dem Yankee mens!"

Disclaimer: I mean no offense by this except, it is from a real historical narrative. Believe me there are a lot worse that this one.

Today instead of Slave Narratives lets do narratives of Native American’s. Let’s fine out how they feel about living in today’s society, life on the reservation, and living their lives in the modern world as Natives.

The Life Histories Project employed over 300 writers who produced thousands of documents - typically 2,000-15,000 words in length, varying in form from narrative to dialogue to report a case history. The histories describe the informant's family education, income, occupation, political views, religion and mores, medical needs, diet and miscellaneous observations. Pseudonyms were often substituted for individuals and places named in the narrative texts. I have a copy of one of these narratives done for my great-uncle C.

Now let’s do the same today and put some young writers to work to collect the narratives of our dying off Korean veterans and our graying Vietnam veterans. I bet they have a lot to say about their times that we should really listen to.

Finally it's time to redo the America Guide Series which were originally written in three parts for the then 48 states and the Alaska territory: state’s history, essays about various subjects germane to the state and a travel/tour section.

Round up today’s writes, geographers and cartographers and let’s redo the whole series. This time we can include Hawaii, Puerto Rico, Guam and the Virgin Islands.

So Mr. President-elect get going and find all those young high school graduates who like to write, all the Writer Academy graduates who can’t find a job, geographers and such and put them to work. We need some new books. If John Steinbeck could do it so can America’s new writers - we might find a new Steinbeck.

Starving Artists - Past and Present

My oldest daughter said that I should put some of my more esoteric knowledge to work on my blog. So here we go:

President-elect Obama has said that he is planning vast public works projects for the unemployed and underemployed. Well I suggest he take a look at the past public works projects, especially the Great Depression era WPA fine arts projects. Employ those out of work writers, artists, actors and dancers in something useful. Especially the artists.

The WPA put over 5,000 artists to work on posters for safety and health programs, cultural programs including art exhibitions, theatrical, and musical performances; travel and tourism; educational programs; and community activities. But, most importantly it put them to work on murals reflecting American life past and present.

Where did a lot of these murals appear? Why the good old United States Port Office! They produced 1,200 murals and 300 sculptures for Post Office facilities between 1934 and 1943. About 1,000 murals and 200 sculptures remain in postal facilities today. Nice!

Just two examples of their Post Office work:



Luray, VA Post Office
"Luray - 1840" - oil on canvas
by Sheffield Kagy (1939)



Saint Helena, CA Post Office
“Grape Pickers” - oil on canvas
by Lew Keller (1942)



I am for anything that will make our modern Post Office’s a little more art friendly. It’s time to get all those U.S. Post Office posters off the walls and get some good old American art out there. So Mr. President-elect how about a new Fine Arts projects for the United States Post Office. Let’s put America’s out-of-work (if they are any) to work! Find those young starving artists just out of High School, College and Art School - put them to work beautifying America. There are two modren style Post Offices in Virginia Beach that sure could use some nice modren art work. . .

Why Cats are better than Dogs

Cats don’t eat the Mailman. Have you ever seen a “BEWARE OF CAT” sign!

Cats smell better. Nothing is better smelling than a fresh licked cat.

Cats don’t poop all over the yard. Yes, cleaning the litter box is a chore, but it’s a better chore than cleaning up after the Dog!

You don’t have to walk the cat a million times a day if you live in an apartment. Walking the dog is stupid, especially if it’s “Big man, little dog.”

Cats don’t bark at the Moon all night, nor bark at everyone who walks by the house. Cats might meow a bit, but that’s only because they are hungry or want a little attention. Dogs are just noisy.

Cats don’t need to see the Groomer every two weeks for a wash and trim. You can keep you Poodle and spend your own fortune keeping it trimmed.

You don’t see cat owners hauling 55 pounds bags of kibble from the store every two weeks! Even the biggest house cat only wants a cup or so of chow a day.

Cats entertain themselves. They chase their bitsy balls by themselves and it‘s fun to watch them chase imaginary bugs up the wall. They don’t need you to play fetch with them for hours on end.

You can cuddle with a cat easier than you can with a lot of dogs. Have you every tried to cuddle a Bull Mastiff on you lap? You’ll need a new lap when you try that trick.

Cats purr, and, purring calms your soul. Purring is nice, purring is soothing, purring is purr-fect. Cats make nice sounds, dogs don’t. Try to purr dog, just try!

Cats will bring you presents that they catch themselves. How about a nice little mouse or a little bird? Dog’s need some one to shoot the bird first so they can go play fetch!

Cats are just like us -- they’re just little people in form fitting fur coats. I have no idea what dogs are, except that they are smelly, noisy and stupid things on four legs.

So get a cat and send the dog to a nice farm far away from me!

What I Can't Do

Everybody knows what they are good at, right? Have you ever thought to sum up what you can't do? Here's my list:

Trilling the "R's". I can't trill an "R" in Spanish to save my soul. Nope can't do it. This goes way back to a Fifth Grade introduction to Spanish when even my best "White Boy" friend Eric could do it. I should be able to do it; I'm from California with it's HUGH Spanish influence and I have Hispanic blood flowing through my veins. So why can't I trill my "R's?"

Watch the rice fly. I can't use chopsticks! Everybody after just a little training can use chopsticks, even little kids. Not me, doesn't happen. When I go out to eat Chinese food with the kids they automatically say give the old man a fork!

Two hours later and they're still not in. I can't put contact lenses on my eye balls. Don't laugh; even trained technicians have trouble doing it - took one sweet dear 30 minutes to get one in. So after cathartic surgery which improved the sight in one eye and should have allowed me to get rid of my glasses, why I'm I still wearing them? Because I can't get that darn contact lens into my left eye that's why!

It's pronounced "sínnəmən!" Oh yeah? Well I can't say it no matter how hard I try. I'll just stammer away every time, I promise you! So you'll never hear me order a Cinnamon Bun without sounding like a complete fool.

You know how to whistle don't you? Dear Miss Bacall, sorry can't whistle, I have tried and failed. Must be connected to those darn Trilling "R's" that I can't do either.

Splat! Well there goes another pie crust on the wall! I'm a good cook. I make good stews and soups and I can bake bread from scratch. But, I cannot make and roll a pie crust to save me life. I've thrown more failed pie crusts against the wall than you can count. Darn things just won't roll with out tearing into pieces. Thank goodness for Pillsbury frozen pie crusts -- well yeah, there have been a few of those too hitting the wall.