This past week I had the privilege to work overnight from 9pm-7am with the overnight stocking crew. I have to give it up to those folks. Working overnights is just not natural. I believe you body needs to sleep when it is dark outside & you work when it is light out. But, I have a really good group of folks that work overnight all the time.
Talking to several of the associates I have one that goes home & sleeps for 2 hours then gets up so he can take care of his 2 little kids (a 4 year old & a 2 year old) while his wife is at school. Then when she gets home he goes back to bed from 3pm-8pm. WOW. I have got to give it up to him.
Sometimes some of the daytime associates complain that "not enough was done on overnights" but, they don't realize what a hard job these overnight associates have to do. It's amazing how we can get blown out during the daytime & our night crew works it's magic & gets the club back up & running. The day time associates have to deal with different situations themselves. They have to multi-task all day long from resetting an aisle, running a register, spotting a forklift, test scanning aisles, answering phone call questions & most important taking care of our members during the daytime.
It's not rocket science, but you have to be a self starter & be able to have a strong sense of urgency to exceed in this job.
Great job to the team!
Until Later,
XX
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
2012 A New Year
Alright, I know I haven't blogged in over 15 months. I could say I have been busy, but I know everyone else is as well. So I am going to attempt to have some New Years Resolutions this year.
- Be stronger in my faith. Not going through the motions, but actually study God's word & work on applying it in my daily life.
- Be a better Husband to my wife & a better father to my 4 kids.
- My wife & I have already decided to have a family devotional every night following dinner. Then have each night where we have activities (ex. Monday Night reading night etc...) I close the Club down on Tuesdays so they will be on their own.
- Be a better boss to my co-workers. I work for the greatest company in the world & I believe it is a blessing to do so. In order to help make my Club more successful I am going to need to be a better boss this year. Contrary to some folks belief I do care about my associates. I just need to be better at letting them know this.
- Stretch goal is to get to 190 pounds by the end of the year. Minimum goal is to get to 200 lbs. Currently I am at 215 lbs
- In order to accomplish #5 I will need to exercise. Not exercise MORE...because I currently don't do much other than lift my remote up with my right arm & run to the dinner table when my wife yells "dinner". I'll admit sometimes I run away from the dinner table in order to not do dishes. (isn't that what the 4 kids are for?) :)
- Read more & watch less Television. My kids & I enjoy watching a few TV Shows: Hawaii Five-O, Person of Interest, Terra Nova with upcoming shows like Alcatraz & The Firm waiting in the wings. I also watch a lot of sports, so I am going to attempt to NOT purchase the MLB package from DirecTV so I can spend more of my summer working on the above goals. Football season is about to come to an end so I won't be watching much sporting events on TV until September (of course I did buy the NBA Ticket this year so I can watch my favorite NBA team the OKC Thunder play basketball). I would like to read one book a month. I know some might think "ONE"? But, I figure going from one every 2 years to one a month is an improvement.
- Attempt to Blog more. I would like to do it daily like some, but I don't see that happening. So I will attempt once a week for now & hope to improve & see if I should change it by July 1, 2012.
- Change my Blog name from "Double X" to something else. My wife says it sound like an X rated movie. Obviously it has nothing to do with that. It has everything to do with one of my favorite MLB players of all time Jimmie Foxx aka "Double X" copy & past this link ---> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimmie_Foxx
- Stop & Smell the Roses. Enjoy life & live each & every day to the fullest!
Until Later,
XX
A father, daugher & dog
"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" .
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.."
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad 's troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?"
"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad . He's staying!"
Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad ?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
Dad 's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw.Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees, hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together, he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad 's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night, I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made, filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.
And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this, some have entertained angels without knowing it."
"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ...his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
And if you don't send this to at least 4 people ---nobody cares? But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
God answers our prayers in His time........not ours.
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.."
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad 's troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?"
"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad . He's staying!"
Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad ?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
Dad 's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw.Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees, hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together, he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad 's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night, I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made, filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.
And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this, some have entertained angels without knowing it."
"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ...his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
And if you don't send this to at least 4 people ---nobody cares? But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
God answers our prayers in His time........not ours.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Nostalgic
I'm on a much needed vacation this week. This is the last official week we (managers & associates) are allowed to take before all the holiday fun begins. I take the same week each year & find myself enjoying it more & more each year.
During this last official week each year I seem to feel very nostalgic. I don't know if it's because it gives me more time to relax, but this is the week that does it too me each time.
Anyone who knows me knows I love football. (I love my faith & family more) I am sure I watched more football before, but the first game I remember was on January 1, 1978 the day the Arkansas Razorbacks defeated the Oklahoma Sooners 31-6 in the Orange Bowl costing the Sooners the National Title (Although I had no idea about the national title). I remember my dad & Jim Chambers watching the game & Jim shaking my dad's hand at the end & saying "we'll I'm going to go home & cry". I remember not long after my parents were adding onto our house & their "old" bedroom was still unoccupied. All left in the room was a queen size mattress that was leaning up against the wall. I can remember playing football in this room & I was Billy Sims ("the man that can fly" as Channel 8's Chris Lincoln put it) & I would dive into the mattress.
The earliest NFL game I can remember is back on January 15th, 1978. That is the day the Dallas Cowboys defeated the Denver Broncos 27-10. Again, I am sure I watched game prior to this one, but it's the one that sticks out. I can remember watching the game before church & then sitting in our vega with my dad waiting for my mom to come to the car after church listening as the clock wound down & Dallas was crowned the champion.
Your probably wondering why I am rambling, but this was a special time in a young 8 year old's life. For many reasons I wish the "simpler" times would come back. I especially wish they would come back in the NFL.
When I was younger the Cowboys, Vikings, Rams, Steelers, Raiders & Dolphins were the dominate teams in the NFL. The players seemed to be larger than life in the late 70's & early 80's. Now they just seem like a lot of "prima donna's. Roger Staubach, Terry Bradshaw, Kenny Stabler, Jim Hart just to name a few seemed so much better than today's players.
Here are some things I wish:
Call me crazy, but I really miss the NFL I grew up with not to mention many other things when I was a kid. Don't get me wrong, I do miss other things. I just felt to write about the NFL today. I miss working at the candy store at the Old Outlet Malls of America in Broken Arrow. I miss the Tulsa Roughnecks & the NASL. I miss hanging out with my friends from high school. But, I would NEVER trade it for what I have today with my family. What about you....what do you miss?
During this last official week each year I seem to feel very nostalgic. I don't know if it's because it gives me more time to relax, but this is the week that does it too me each time.
Anyone who knows me knows I love football. (I love my faith & family more) I am sure I watched more football before, but the first game I remember was on January 1, 1978 the day the Arkansas Razorbacks defeated the Oklahoma Sooners 31-6 in the Orange Bowl costing the Sooners the National Title (Although I had no idea about the national title). I remember my dad & Jim Chambers watching the game & Jim shaking my dad's hand at the end & saying "we'll I'm going to go home & cry". I remember not long after my parents were adding onto our house & their "old" bedroom was still unoccupied. All left in the room was a queen size mattress that was leaning up against the wall. I can remember playing football in this room & I was Billy Sims ("the man that can fly" as Channel 8's Chris Lincoln put it) & I would dive into the mattress.
The earliest NFL game I can remember is back on January 15th, 1978. That is the day the Dallas Cowboys defeated the Denver Broncos 27-10. Again, I am sure I watched game prior to this one, but it's the one that sticks out. I can remember watching the game before church & then sitting in our vega with my dad waiting for my mom to come to the car after church listening as the clock wound down & Dallas was crowned the champion.
Your probably wondering why I am rambling, but this was a special time in a young 8 year old's life. For many reasons I wish the "simpler" times would come back. I especially wish they would come back in the NFL.
When I was younger the Cowboys, Vikings, Rams, Steelers, Raiders & Dolphins were the dominate teams in the NFL. The players seemed to be larger than life in the late 70's & early 80's. Now they just seem like a lot of "prima donna's. Roger Staubach, Terry Bradshaw, Kenny Stabler, Jim Hart just to name a few seemed so much better than today's players.
Here are some things I wish:
- I wish the Baltimore Colts never left Baltimore.
- I wish the Los Angeles Rams never left Los Angeles
- I wish the Houston Oilers would have never left Houston.
- I wish the Cleveland Browns would have never left to go to Baltimore.
- I wish the St. Louis Cardinals would have never left St. Louis
- I wish the St. Louis Rams would go back to their blue & yellow helmet & uniforms.
- I wish the Denver Broncos didn't change their helmet of the 70's & 80's with the D on the helmet.
- I wish the San Diego Chargers would go back to the helmet of the 70's & 80's with the blue helmets & gold lightning bolt.
- I wish the Philadelphia Eagles still had the helmet they wore in the late 70's & early 80's.
- I wish the New England Patriots would have never changed their uniforms of the late 70's & early 80's.
- I wish the Atlanta Falcons would have never changed their helmet from from the late 70's & early 80's with the red helmet. They let Jerry Glanville change it....JERRY GLANVILLE!!
- The only changes I like are the Buccaneers change, the Jets going back to their "old" uniform & helmets, the Giants going back with the NY on their helmets.
- With all due respect I don't like the expansion cities. The Houston Texans, Jacksonville Jaguars & Carolina Panthers. If I had it my way their would only be 28 teams with no teams in Jacksonville, Carolina, Tennessee, Indianapolis or Arizona.
- The Titans would be the Oilers, Indianapolis would be the Baltimore Colts & Arizona would be the St. Louis Cardinals.
- I wish there was a channel to where you could watch any "old" NFL or college football game that you wanted. You could just order what you want & presto its on & it would not cost $$$.
Call me crazy, but I really miss the NFL I grew up with not to mention many other things when I was a kid. Don't get me wrong, I do miss other things. I just felt to write about the NFL today. I miss working at the candy store at the Old Outlet Malls of America in Broken Arrow. I miss the Tulsa Roughnecks & the NASL. I miss hanging out with my friends from high school. But, I would NEVER trade it for what I have today with my family. What about you....what do you miss?
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Barnyard for the next 4 years....
The Barnyard for the next 4 years....
"Who will help me grow my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the cow.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen, and so she did. She planted her crop, and the wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain.
"Who will help me reap my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the duck..
"Out of my classification," said the pig.
"I'd lose my seniority," said the cow.
"I'd lose my unemployment compensation," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen, and so she did.
At last it came time to bake the bread. "Who will help me bake the bread?" asked the little red hen.
"That would be overtime for me," said the cow.
"I'd lose my welfare benefits," said the duck.
"I'm a dropout and never learned how," said the pig.
"If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen.
She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, "No, I shall eat all five loaves."
"Excess profits!" cried the cow. (Nancy Pelosi)
"Capitalist leech!" screamed the duck. (Barbara Boxer)
"I demand equal rights!" yelled the goose. (Jesse Jackson)
The pig just grunted in disdain. (Ted Kennedy)
And they all painted 'Unfair!' picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.
Then the farmer (Obama) came. He said to the little red hen, "You must not be so greedy."
"But I earned the bread," said the little red hen.
"Exactly," said Barack the farmer. "That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle."
And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, "I am grateful, for now I truly understand."
But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the 'party' and got her bread free. And all the Democrats smiled. 'Fairness' had been established.
Individual initiative had died, but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared...so long as there was free bread that 'the rich' were paying for.
EPILOGUE
Bill Clinton is getting $12 million for his memoirs.
Hillary got $8 million for hers.
That's $20 million for the memories from two people, who for eight years repeatedly testified, under oath, that they couldn't remember anything.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Only in America
ONLY in America
- Only in America...do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.
- Only in America...do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries, And a diet coke.
- Only in America...do banks leave both doors open and then chain the Pens to the counters.
- Only in America...do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.
- Only in America...do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.
- Only in America...do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.
EVER WONDER...
- Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?
- Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed? (Really?)
- Why don't you ever see the headline 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?
- Why is 'abbreviated' such a long word?
- Why is it that doctors call what they do 'practice'?
- Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dish washing liquid made with real lemons?
- Why is the man who invests a ll your money called a broker?
- Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?
- Why isn't there mouse-flavored c at food?
- Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?
- Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?
- You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?!
- Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?
- Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?
- If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?
- If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?
The Burglar
One night, a burglar broke into a house. He shined
his flashlight around, looking for valuables. When he
picked up a CD player to place in his sack, a
strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying,
"Jesus is watching you."
He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his
flashlight off, and froze. When he heard nothing more
after a bit, he shook his head, promised himself a
vacation after the next big score, then clicked the
flashlight on and began searching for more valuables.
Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could
disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he heard,
"Jesus is watching you." Freaked out, he shined
his light around frantically, looking for the source
of the voice.
Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight
beam came to rest on a parrot.
Did you say that?" he hissed at the parrot.
"Yep," the parrot confessed, and then
squawked, "I'm just trying to warn you."
The burglar relaxed. "Warn me, huh? Who in the
world are you?"
"Moses," replied the bird.
"Moses?" the burglar laughed. "What
kind of people would name a bird Moses?"
"The kind of people that would name a
Rottweiler Jesus."
his flashlight around, looking for valuables. When he
picked up a CD player to place in his sack, a
strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying,
"Jesus is watching you."
He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his
flashlight off, and froze. When he heard nothing more
after a bit, he shook his head, promised himself a
vacation after the next big score, then clicked the
flashlight on and began searching for more valuables.
Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could
disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he heard,
"Jesus is watching you." Freaked out, he shined
his light around frantically, looking for the source
of the voice.
Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight
beam came to rest on a parrot.
Did you say that?" he hissed at the parrot.
"Yep," the parrot confessed, and then
squawked, "I'm just trying to warn you."
The burglar relaxed. "Warn me, huh? Who in the
world are you?"
"Moses," replied the bird.
"Moses?" the burglar laughed. "What
kind of people would name a bird Moses?"
"The kind of people that would name a
Rottweiler Jesus."
Cemetery Escort Duty
I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.
I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.
I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.
I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.
'Ma'am,may I assist you in any way?'
She took long enough to answer.
'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'
'My pleasure, ma'am.' Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.
She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'
' Vietnam, ma'am. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'
She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'
I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'
She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time.'
'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'
She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.
She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.
She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.
She paused for a second. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done'
I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'
She looked confused. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'
I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'
'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'
She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out.
'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'
Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'
She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all marines.'
She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.
I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.
'Get to the 'Out' gate quick. I have something I've got to do.'
Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.
'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post.
When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'
I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.
She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice.
I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.
Instead of 'The End,' just think of 'Taps.'
As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: 'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'
Let's all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.
'In God We Trust.'
Sorry about your monitor; it made mine blurry too!
If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under!
Until Later,
XX
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Super Bowl Prediction
Ok I know that I have rotten predictions. I am usually about 50% on my picks. But, my pick for the Super Bowl is the Pittsburgh Steelers 30 @ the Arizona Cardinals 27. I look for it to be a close game. I know a lot of people are rooting for Kurt Warner, but I am rooting for the Steelers. Even though my beloved Dallas Cowboys have 5 Super Bowl Championships as do the Steelers & with a win the Steelers will go to a record 6th Championship.
Doesn't matter to me. I am still rooting for the Steelers. If the Cardinals do wind up winning the game you won't see me crying. It would be a great story if they do win. Who would have ever thought this team would be in the Super Bowl? Not many that is for sure.
My 3 boys & I luckily own Pittsburgh Steeler jersey's and we will be wearing them tomorrow for our Super Bowl "party". Last year was a good game, but it had two teams I despise. This year it isn't a "good versus evil" game like there has been in years past.
Let's just hope for a very entertaining game!
Until Later,
XX
Doesn't matter to me. I am still rooting for the Steelers. If the Cardinals do wind up winning the game you won't see me crying. It would be a great story if they do win. Who would have ever thought this team would be in the Super Bowl? Not many that is for sure.
My 3 boys & I luckily own Pittsburgh Steeler jersey's and we will be wearing them tomorrow for our Super Bowl "party". Last year was a good game, but it had two teams I despise. This year it isn't a "good versus evil" game like there has been in years past.
Let's just hope for a very entertaining game!
Until Later,
XX
Monday, January 26, 2009
School 1957 versus 2007
SCHOOL -- 1957 vs. 2007
Scenario:
Jack goes quail hunting before school,
pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.
1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack's shotgun,
goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2007 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail
and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in
for traumatized students and teachers.
Scenario:
Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins.
Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2007 - Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark.
Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.
Scenario:
Jeffrey won't be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal.
Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2007 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie.
Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state
because Jeffrey has a disability.
Scenario:
Billy breaks a window in his neighbor's car
and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal,
goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2007 - Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse.
Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang.
State psychologist tells Billy's sister that she remembers
being abused herself and their dad goes to prison.
Billy's mom has affair with psychologist.
Scenario:
Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 - Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2007 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations.
Car searched for drugs and weapons.
Scenario:
Pedro fails high school English.
1957 - Pedro goes to summer school, passes English and goes to college.
2007 - Pedro's cause is taken up by state.
Newspaper articles appear nationally
explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist.
ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system
and Pedro's English teacher. English banned from core curriculum.
Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up
mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.
Scenario:
Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July,
puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.
1957 - Ants die.
2007- BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called.
Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents,
siblings removed from home, computers confiscated,
Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list
and is never allowed to fly again.
Scenario:
Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee.
He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.
1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2007 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job.
She faces 3 years in State Prison.
Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.
This should hit every e-mail to show how stupid we have become!
Think about it!
Until Later,
XX
Scenario:
Jack goes quail hunting before school,
pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.
1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack's shotgun,
goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2007 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail
and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in
for traumatized students and teachers.
Scenario:
Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins.
Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2007 - Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark.
Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.
Scenario:
Jeffrey won't be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal.
Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2007 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie.
Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state
because Jeffrey has a disability.
Scenario:
Billy breaks a window in his neighbor's car
and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal,
goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2007 - Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse.
Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang.
State psychologist tells Billy's sister that she remembers
being abused herself and their dad goes to prison.
Billy's mom has affair with psychologist.
Scenario:
Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 - Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2007 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations.
Car searched for drugs and weapons.
Scenario:
Pedro fails high school English.
1957 - Pedro goes to summer school, passes English and goes to college.
2007 - Pedro's cause is taken up by state.
Newspaper articles appear nationally
explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist.
ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system
and Pedro's English teacher. English banned from core curriculum.
Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up
mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.
Scenario:
Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July,
puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.
1957 - Ants die.
2007- BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called.
Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents,
siblings removed from home, computers confiscated,
Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list
and is never allowed to fly again.
Scenario:
Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee.
He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.
1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2007 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job.
She faces 3 years in State Prison.
Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.
This should hit every e-mail to show how stupid we have become!
Think about it!
Until Later,
XX
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