The off-season is dead, long live King Football!

I write this knowing that millions of women everywhere will groan.
Some of them actually like the game as much as their men, others cheerfully endure it because they love their men.

I liken it to myself watching what I call "Darling darling" movies on TCM with my beloved.
You know the ones.  Old black and whites where every person is addressed with "Dahling!"
All of the actors may be from Pittsburgh or Buffalo, but they sound like they were raised in the better parts of London.

I have learned to keep my eyes open, and limit my smarmy, smart alecky comments to a minimum.
She has learned about the nickel defense, the blitz package, and she actually knows the difference between Peyton and Eli Manning, and she  really likes Peyton.
Who doesn't?  The dude can flat play, and he's in the same group as Tim Tebow.
All around good guy.

My son the Captain and I were in our football glory this weekend past.
My home town Miami Hurricanes played a tremendous defensive game, and beat the hated Florida Gators 21-16 in Sun Life Stadium.
The place was full to capacity, and rocking like I have never seen it.
Coach Al Golden has endured much from the, ahem, idiots at the NCAA.
He stuck it out when many men would have bailed on the program.
The results are starting to show.
He's not only recruiting quality players, he's recruiting quality young men.
No longer does he need a team bail bondsman, like Florida does.
They had five players in some sort of trouble before the game.
They "Cleared" four of them in time for the game.
The Canes still kicked their reptile behinds.
We have high hopes they will win the ACC for the first time, and go on to a BCS bowl for the first time in many a year.
Their Soph running sensation, Duke Johnson is a legitimate candidate for the Heisman trophy, signifying the best college football player in American.
Reports are that he would rather stay home and play Monopoly with his family than run the streets.
Like for instance last year's winner, Johnny "Football" Manziel.
I'll take Duke over Football any day.

And my Miami Dolphins look like they will be good this year, potentially very good.
Their defense swarmed over the Cleveland Browns on the road Sunday.
Six sacks, three take aways, and they made life absolutely miserable for Brandon Wheedon, the hapless Brown QB.  His line more or less threw look-out blocks all day.
You know, "look out kid, here they come!"
They also scored several touchdowns.
Something they seemed totally unfamiliar with the last few seasons.

It's good to be a Miami football guy this week!

Hope springs eternal until opening day, as they say.
I don't know who they are, but sometimes they really tick me off.

A closing note, I saw a recent picture of Coach Don Shula.
Coach is a man who was a great role model for the young men of South Florida.
He's also the winningest coach in NFL history, and the only coach to have a perfect undefeated season.
And he was born and raised in Painesville, Ohio, same home town as Irma Wheeler, my late mother in law.
It's hard to see him looking so old, but he's well into his eighties.
Rock on Coach!
I fully intend to!

The Odyssey Continues.

This week, I had yet another experience with the health care industry.
My third wonderful experience with the procedure known as a colonoscopy.
You know the one, if you are over fifty.
Starve yourself for a day, then drink five liters of a nasty solution that tastes like seawater, spend 12 hours in the bathroom, and then your reward is getting a long stainless steel tube.........

Well to put it mildly, it stinks, but it beats the alternative of perhaps having undiagnosed Colon Cancer.

I did find out I have severe diverticulitis.
Antibiotics for 20 days, and a high fiber diet may stave off surgery.
But if it takes surgery to be accepted by the transplant lab, so be it!

The difference between competence and sloppiness is sometimes startling.

My first two procedures were with our former GP, a product of the Canadian Health Care System.
He had no earthly business doing that type of procedure.

This Doctor was a GI specialist.
The last thing I remember was the nurse putting the syringe into my IV, and I woke up with Phyllis in the room.
No discomfort, and I found out later he only took 15 minutes to complete the procedure.
Everyone was pleasant, reassuring and extremely professional

He even showed me pictures!
Totally disgusting, and I will not post them here.

I sincerely hope that when our own National Health Care Act is fully implemented, that it does not degrade our level of care to that of our former Doctor.

Too few physicians trying to do too much with too little time and resources.

We shall see, as I fear we are stuck with it for the duration.

Here follows a picture of Ariel's dog Charlie.

It seems Charlie is a very popular Canine name these days.

And yes, he is spoiled!  He expects a treat every week when Ariel get's his package of cookies from his Mom.

Welcome back, me!

It's been over two years since I've posted anything.
There are a lot of reasons for that, mostly concerning my health.
I lost it, simply put.
But as the old man in Monty Python put it "I'm much better, really!  Don't put me on the wagon!"
A year ago this coming Saturday, my kidney's failed me.
The steady progression back to good health is a blessing.
I still have to hook up to my trusty PD Cycler every night, but that is a small price to pay to stay healthy, and off of Hemodialysis.  Which I hate.
Imagine sticking two ten penny nails in your arm, three times per week, and laying flat on your back for five hours.
Then pray for the poor souls who have no other option.

Recently, since I now have more time on my hands than I really wanted, I started scribbling again.
If you've ever tried to read Klingon, then you have some idea of just how bad my hand writing is.
But the point is, I'm writing again.
I've been told by family and people I trust that I have some small iota of talent.
And from what I heard repeatedly at a Writers Digest conference I attended last spring,
"Writers write!"
So get off my back, I'm writing!

Most of it will be middling/piddling to bad, but maybe some of it won't make you sick.

So each and every day I will try to write something.

You may not see much of it, as I am my own worst critic, as most writers are.

Nonsense to good sense, funny to pathetic to pathos.

I will most likely run the gamut.

And fair warning, truth in advertising and all of that.

I am a Redneck, Red State, Red Meat eating Reagan conservative!

Although I do not plan to address the political with any regularity.

Sometimes it just happens.

So here goes.

Two really cornball, bad limericks I penned sitting on our deck Sunday night with Pippi, the love of my

life.  You know her as The Queen, Felicia, the lovely Phyllis!  (Greenbough in the Greek)

     Ode to Pippi

There once was a girl named Pippi,

Who never was a Hippy,

When she was asked why,

She said "My, oh My!'

"I never was very trippy!"

Gag.  I know.  She laughed anyway.

Bad effort number two

    Ode to Csonk

There was was a dog named Csonk,

Who was a big old lump,

He napped all day

And people would say,

"Why don't you just have him stuffed?"

Bleeah!   I know.   The dog liked it!

Summer Southern gardens, Gee-Gaws and the Queen

We had a relatively mild Spring, and it has been hot the last couple of weeks.

Everything green is simply exploding, and we are in full bloom.

The Queen lives up to her name, which means "Greenbough" in Greek.

Gardening is her passion, and if I don't watch her, we'd have no lawn left at all, and palm trees would be growing in our driveway!

Here are some random images of her many projects, and The Queen Of The Manse herself, in all of her feminine glory.

Enjoy!

Not the best Saturday

As all of you must know by now, yesterday (16 April) we were bombarded by the storm system that spawned tornados from Alabama to North Carolina.

Our local weather guys were admittedly speechless when the severity of the system became apparent.

It's not a comforting thought to see concern bordering on panic on the faces of professional TV sorts.

God blessed us. We were right in the middle of two severe Tornados, and came out virtually unscathed.

One went to the east of us over our county seat and caused severe damage before heading on it's destructive way towards Virginia. Another was further east, passing over Greensboro, and Seymour Johnston AFB before hitting Greenville and heading North.

And one went just to the west of us.

All we had was vertical rain. Not a branch came down at our place.

The Western one followed US 1 all the way through the middle of the State and into downtown Raleigh, leaving a trail of death and destruction in it's wake.

People lost everything they had in some cases.

And the poor and lower class suffered the most.

Many lived in mobile home parks, which looked like bombs wiped them out.

A lot of these folks had no insurance to replace their losses.

Saturday night, almost 200,000 had no power, including 19,000 here in Johnston County.

My heart went out in particular to one man about my age in the county.

He had lost a beautiful farm that I had viewed many times while driving up I40 not far from here.

Every one of his 11 Turkey buildings were destroyed, and the roof of his home was pretty much gone.

He had yet to even find his horses, as their barn was blown away.

Ditto his pigs and their enclosures.

Neighbors said "He's the hardest working man in Johnston County. He built that farm up from nothing over decades."

I saw the face of a broken man, whose soul had been crushed in the span of 10 minutes.

I put myself in his place, and my soul ached for him.

He and his wife were alive, and they were thankful.

As most Americans do, I know he will pick himself up, dust himself off, and like a true Southerner probably cuss a bit.

Then he will go back to work.

I also so a marked departure from some of the images I remember after Hurricane Katrina hit.

As they interviewed people who had suffered, their neighbors were in the background stretching covers over the holes in their roof.

They were going door to door making certain everyone was OK.

They were already clearing fallen trees off of driveways and roads.

Those that had power were asking in those that had none.

Supplies were on the way while the winds were still swirling.

Our pastor told us this morning that the North Carolina Baptist Men were already on the scene with tools and strong arms to help.

They were also the first in New Orleans from outside, and one of the first groups in Haiti and Japan.

This one was at home, and their appearance was immediate.

The absence of people screaming for FEMA and the Federal Government was noticeable.

Before the storm even hit, I got a call from FRG (Family Resource Group) from Ariel's unit, Delta Company of the Second Battalion.

They assured me that "Your soldier is OK. But there was an incident yesterday." A young Specialist, 25 was lost, and two more soldiers were severely wounded.

We knew that he was OK, but the call was still terrifying.

It's the kind of call every parent of a combat Soldier or Marine dreads.

Ariel was able to call us today, after they lifted the Comm block.

He was lifting weights after his duty day, and heard the firefight.

It was an ambush very close to the FOB on another platoon's patrol outside the wire.

One soldier is so seriously wounded he will be sent home. The other will probably be back at the FOB in a month or so to resume his duties.

He kind of knew the young man that we all lost, but in a company of almost 200 men you don't know everyone personally.

But they are truly a Band of Brothers, and each and every loss affects all of them.

If our politicians won't let them fight, then we all need to start a relentless fight to bring them home and out of Afghanistan.

We are in yet another Vietnam, with no political will to win, no distinct military objective, and no strategic reason to be there that affects our National Security or interests.

We also have no plan, and no exit strategy.

Ten years is enough!

Please pray for the young man's family that gave his all for his country and for those who bled for it.

And pray for the poor souls here in the Southeast who were devastated by the Tornado's of yesterday.

Who is steering the ship?

I refer of course, to the ship of state.
Ours being the United States of America.
Emergencies and drastic situations are all in the job description of President of The United States, regardless of who he or she may be.

I remember now Secretary of State and former Senator and First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton airing a particularly effective campaign ad when she ran in the Democrat primaries against then Senator Obama.
The gist of this was, when the phone rings at 3:00 AM, will my opponent be able to answer it?

Lately it seems that his response now that he is President is to let the answering machine catch the call. Or perhaps he tells Michelle "Ah, tell them I'm not here! I'm walking the dog!"

So far this year, we've had Egypt in turmoil, now with a military government that is somewhat friendly to the U.S.
According to CNN and other media outlets, President Obama learned of former Egyptian President/dictator for life Hosni Mubarak fleeing Egypt while he watched TV in the Oval Office.

During the same time period, Algeria, Yemen and Tunisia were both caught in uprisings of their own.
We had a chance, with some skillful and direct leadership from the top to insure that all of these aggrieved people were protected from violence.
We also needed to insure that Islamic militants like the Muslim Brotherhood or some Iranian front didn't turn these nations into a Sharia state.

Our response from the White House was to sit and wait, and let events unfold.
The results were the results, we had virtually no input to shepherd these people in the direction of peace and democracy on some level.

And now we have Libya. Her poor people have been terrorized for decades by one of the worst lunatic tyrants in modern history, "Colonel" Mohamar Quadafy.
A man who also has the blood of many Americans on his hands through his direct and overt terrorist activity over the last thirty years.
Ronald Reagan dealt with him rather harshly , but every other President has been content to keep him penned up, instead of dealing with his crazed treatment of his own people, and his continued threats to the rest of the world.

Had we a strong leader, he could have been "coaxed" into leaving the country and going into exile very early on in this crisis. A live idiot with several millions of his peoples oil money in France beats having him committing genocide on his subjects in revolt.
Chances are strong assurance from the U.S. that we would bring down the wrath of God on his miserable head (and that of his son) ala' Ronald Reagan if he did not vamoose would have accomplished his removal without bloodshed.

Instead, we waited.
Depending on the ineffective and perennially weak U.N. to finally act in the Security Council was a disaster.
After placating the tyrannical Chinese government for over two weeks, the council finally passed a resolution last night for a no fly zone. 10-4 for, 5 nations too spineless to vote that abstained.
Yes, the same Chinese government that locks up Nobel Prize winners, and places his family under house arrest rather than let them attend the award ceremony for fear of world humiliation.

No one will ever know how many innocent Libyans were slaughtered by this madman and his supporters because we dithered and did nothing.
And it is now likely that the insane Colonel will be in power until he dies.
Then, just as it will be in North Korea his spawn of Satan son will succeed him.
After the first Gulf War, Saddam Hussein stayed in power in similar circumstances.
He slaughtered hundreds of thousands of his own people, using Bio weapons against the Kurds.
George W. Bush finally had him removed, after 17 toothless U.N. resolutions over a 12 year period.

Word is leaking out that Secretary of State Clinton is furious with her boss for his inaction.
She saw the potential to get rid of this nut job with little risk.
It seems she was right about the phone call.

And now we have the natural disaster in Japan, with a Tsunami following a series of devastating earthquakes and nuclear meltdown potential.
Word from the White House "the fallout will have little potency if it hits the U.S. West Coast"
If, how much potency, who cares I don't have to go there etc etc.

Our Commander in Chiefs answer to all of this?
Raise money for his reelection campaign, play golf and fly to Rio for one of his patented political/luxury vacation trips abroad.
Were he to come back from Brazil with a new treaty agreement with them to buy their oil I would think it money well spent.
Their current number one trading partner is Communist China.
It should be us.
They have a booming economy, and are now ranked number seven in the world in that respect.

Heaven forbid, if we give this man four more years in the White House, they will surpass us.

We need someone else available to answer the Red Phone in January of 2013.

The Family Tree

My sister sent me a link to a new website for the State of West Virginia.
"Thanks, now I won't get anything of real value done for the rest of the day!" I told her.
There was a wealth of historical information to be found there.

In just over an hour, I downloaded Marriage "Contracts" and licenses all the way back to my
ggg Grandfather and Grandmother, in 1808.
The listings by the county clerk in the registers for that year were also there.

I learned that in olden days, it was indeed a contract between the groom to be, and his father in law, or the eldest living brother. The contract was with the Commonwealth of Virginia, in the name of the current governor.
The price of said contract? $150.00, serious money in that day.
Instead of receiving a Dowry, as it was in the old country the young husband had to do this in order to show that he was financially stable enough to support the woman.
If he hadn't been working long enough to save the cash, he didn't walk the man's little girl down the aisle, so to speak.

The ages listed on the license normally reflected that.
My ggg grandfather Joshua Harvey was 23, Sarah Swope, the matriarch of my direct line was only sixteen.
Their son James S. Harvey (my fathers name sake) was 22, his bride Eliza Cummins was
only 17. It took a young man that long to save that amount of money in order to marry.

As time marched on, and the contract was now only a marriage license the age of the woman advanced.
In fact, my grandmother Ollie Pearl Garten was 23, and my Pa Pa was only 22!
My great grandmother Louisa Baumgardner Harvey was very young at marriage though.
She was only 30 when she died after a difficult child birth. The child did not survive either.
My great Aunt Liza was only twelve at the time, and she helped with my granddad, who was six, and with his little brother Hobart who was one until she herself married at the age of seventeen.
My great grandfather never remarried, which tells me a lot about his love for his young wife.
It was commonplace for a man to quickly remarry in that day, especially when he had young children.
He raised the boys with the help of his married daughter, and later served as Sheriff in Monroe County. He died just before my father was born in 1921, living to see most of his grandchildren.

Seeing the flowing, formal cursive handwriting on these documents, with the names, ages and witnesses from the family of people I've heard about, and in some cases known as elderly was awesome.
I know the exact dates now of all of their nuptials.
One can easily imagine them as hopeful, excited youngsters, eager to set out on their own, much as we all have done.

Sarah and Joshua had seventeen children who survived to adult hood.
There were several sets of twins.
Most of them lived through the Civil War. Indeed, the men fought in it.
They were both blessed with a long life, even by today's standards.

I once met an elderly gentleman when I was in High School in 1970.
His name was Richard Harvey, and he and my Grandfather were third cousins.
He was a veritable wealth of information, lucid, articulate and engaging.
He remembers as a child meeting James S. Harvey, he knew my ggrandfather John S. Harvey well, and also knew several of his great Aunts and Uncles as very elderly people.
Joshua and Sarah's children and grandchildren!
Some of them were still living early in the twentieth century.
My dad told me later that he was 99 years old when I talked to him!

I have since confirmed everything he told me in his oral family history.
These recent documents added to my paper trail of documentation too.

Ah, but I love family detective work!