Obama: U.S. will not send ground troops to Libya
I’m not opposed to protecting the interests of the seriously vested but what is the definition of “ground” because I’m pretty sure I know what the word “troops” means.
Take a wait-n-see approach ’cause my weight and sea attack approach is…
Wait and see. 😉
It’s one world.
All is all.
What is that LHC doing?
A clean bill of a healthy state of mind.
Thoughts drifting.
Sitting on the elementary schoolyard swing set again, singing “Jeremiah was a bullfrog” with my two schoolmates, Renée and Rita, while we saw who could swing the highest without getting the teacher’s attention.
After recess, returning to the fourth grade classroom and hanging out with the guys who challenged everyone to memorisation games, using pulldown maps of countries, states and land features.
Talking about a new literature one of the guys had discovered, called “science fiction.”
Passing love notes to Renée in class, getting caught and reprimanded by Mrs. Tallman, who threatened to tell my mother, a first-grade teacher in the same school, down in the modern pod section where the open classroom concept was being tested on teachers and students, whether they wanted it or not.
Renée dead a year later from a blood disorder that I assume was leukemia.
Some thoughts repeat themselves, overshadowing memories that might have been important at one time, including spelling, grammar, math, history, social studies and geography.
How many politicians who want to make teaching a minimum-wage job with no benefits have children in public schools?
Could you be convinced to vote for a real person like yourself whose lifestyle matches most of the ones in your voting district and is not tempted by wealth?
That is, if you have the right and privilege to vote, which you exercise, seriously considering the ramifications of your decision.
If such a person would register as a candidate for public office.
Renée’s lively personality left my life when we were ten, 20.8% of my current life.
Now, news of friends’ parents dying is growing common.
In middle age, these are the days of my life.
My parents just called to inform me Mrs Abernathy had died.
John, Carol, Beth and Don – my thoughts and prayers are with you as you begin the grieving process for the death of your mother. She was a sweet lady, the consummate Mom for all children, loving the neighbourhood kids, church kids, and school kids without showing favourites.
I sit here, remembering her influence on me as I grew up in Colonial Heights – hosting church youth socials in the backyard, supporting Sing Out Kingsport and school musicals – knowing Renée never had the attention from Mrs. Abernathy that I enjoyed throughout my teenage years.
Neither will I have been the type of parent to provide that community support for my children and their friends/schoolmates.
From one end of life to another, death is a constant.
Yet, as much as we know about the whys and wherefores…the loss, the end of forming new memories and absence of wisdom, love and insight from deceased family and friends, young or elderly, change our perspectives.
How does it change my perspective?
Renée has been gone almost 40 years. Mrs. Abernathy just died. Mr. Guinn died 10 days ago. At least one of my schoolmates is dying of metastasised/terminal cancer.
Where is my sense of humour today?
It showed itself in the gift I made for and gave to Dr. Brown this morning, an electronic “Cat of the Year” calendar/video of our cat, Merlin, who has recovered from dental surgery, thanks to the professionalism and joy that Erin and her staff bring to their veterinary occupations.
Humour is an outlet for pain, among other expressions of relief from daily concerns, frustrations and ennui, including relief that pain/worry has ended.
Humour is what I pretend to believe that defines a separation of me from everything else (although I know I am a combination of everything that has passed through this dense set of states of energy called me in this moment).
Merlin ran out of the cage when we got home and looked for dry food to eat, the sign to me he was ready to get away from wet food after a week of healing sore gums.
Debbie and Neal plan to be grandparents in June.
Our oldest nephew marries in July.
Chestney graduates from high school soon.
Our days are numbered – we count up because we never know when to start the countdown.
Renée died at a point that I called 100% of my life up till then. When I die, I will have lived 100% of my life.
Math.
I will have died somewhere.
Geography.
I will have lived with others in a specific time period.
History.
My name will be recorded in both official birth and death certificates.
Spelling.
I might get an obituary to go along with my birth announcement.
Grammar.
I contributed to sub/cultures during my life and learned from others’ sub/cultural clues.
Social studies.
That’s all I know.
All I need to know.
The rest is a joke waiting to be told from a curious perspective while walking down that Blue Highway I call my life.
This time of year, at least in this part of the country, nasal/chest congestion complaints fill the air.
So, with that in mind, I’m moving my imaginary international troops into Libya and declaring a global free-trade zone; also, sending UN troops to Bahrain to protect against invading Saudi forces.
Oh wait. I’m sorry, skip that last part. I forgot I eliminated political borders in this realm. Everything goes, doesn’t it?
Let’s fight Saudi forces with U.S. forces and pit American fighting weaponry against itself. I’m sure the Iranian leaders would love to see that! I’d love to see it spill over into Iranian airspace, a simple excuse for taking care of paramilitary cyberwarriors hiding behind computer screens.
Are we a behind-the-times species acting like it’s still a few packs of primates running from large predators?
My network demonstrated its power in Chile, China, New Zealand, and Japan. Time to stir up the sands of the Middle East and show how fleeting oil power really is, isn’t it? One scientist suggested twisting the magnetic poles out of shape a little faster, breaking apart the mantle and sucking raw oil reserves down into the core.
Is there not another planet to play with? Is Carlos Slim the best the world has to offer?
This, there, another.
Word trails trailing off into infinity…
Infernal internal combustion engines.
The shadow of a car making an outline of the Penn State Litany Nylon logo.
A mother in-law needing emotional support more than a cat needs dental work.
Ants roaming the house while the yard gets soaked with rain.
Giving over to randomness to prove that randomness is the variation in predictable patterns.
Watching family members insist the mother/grandmother must give up her way of life for their love and support (and their convenience, coincidentally), not the other way around.
Hearing so many others in nursing homes tell the same story – “my [family relation] felt it was in my best interest to move closer to him/her.”
I want to die where I was most comfortable, not where it was convenient for those taking care of me who’ll end up inevitably extending my life in strange surroundings which I’ll never enjoy as much as I enjoyed my comfort zone. Do us both a favour – put me in a wheelchair and push me into the woods behind my house on a cold winter’s night, with a beer in one hand and a tall glass of whiskey in the other.
Bumper sticker on Honda CR-V near Alabama A&M campus – “My karma ran over your dogma.”
I can’t imagine having to worry about a slow decline or sudden weakness in my old age and afraid to tell my family relations I don’t feel well, knowing they’re just waiting for an excuse to move me to their comfort zone, thinking little of what “home” means to me, not them.
I gave in to temptation today. Yes, my flesh is weak. I bought my wife and me six, count them, SIX cupcakes decorated in green and white for St. Patrick’s Day, courtesy of Publix and David (customer service team leader) and Nathan, bagger supreme.
During a walk up and down the street, I played chase with a neighbour’s little boxer puppy and had fun like a kid again.
Do you manage the IT department of your company? If so, do you read or have an employee read/scan the emails of employees/executives for company security purposes? Do you archive IM sessions and SMS text messages sent from company smartphones? Do you monitor IP traffic passing through the airwaves of company property? Do you use GPS trackers in company cars and company credit cards? Are you part of a larger network paid to keep tabs on specific individuals for a purpose that may or may not coincide with company policy? Do you secretly pay car rental companies to provide tracking data and private investigators, when off-the-books recordkeeping is absolutely necessary?
Thank goodness, no one wants to keep me alive for his/her sake, except my wife, of course, most days, anyway. 😉
Otherwise, as my sister says, it’ll just be a matter of managing my monetary resources to stretch them as much as possible to provide me the comfort and care that is as humane as I would choose to treat my aging pets.
Vanna, I’m glad you still have that smile.
Claire, sorry to hear about your transportation vehicle.
Holding seven billion people and the supporting global ecosystem in my hand, I ask myself what tearing down and rebuilding the system to my specifications (with guidance by the Committee, as always) will bring to future generations unaware of invisible hands directing their ancestors’ actions.
Thank goodness, I’m not the only one.
It’s all about the paradigm of the network in today’s pallid parlour parleying parlance.
If you can’t harness the Sun, then grab le règne by the horns.
My worst torture – being the eldest male at a funeral and filling up my thoughts with more and more new comedy sketches about the dead but mentally shutting down and going into automaton mode while having to play the part of the serious wise elder, not the wise guy.
Celebrate living by having fun – there’s plenty of time to be dead serious.
Most of us grew up some place we call local and probably “home.” Don’t feel sorry for everyone else – just treat them like good family members, with a little love and gentle humour to help lighten the burden of daily living.
Besides, Earth is home to all of us, no matter how we treat it or each other.
Hard to believe the Bristol race track is as old as I am. My father says he took me not long after I was born so the speedway is just about my oldest memory other than my parents’ loving faces. Let’s go racing, shall we?
Glad the Kingsport track is running.
Time to put Claire Lynch back on my Internet tunes and swing to her sweet bluegrass voice.
2011 is not the worst year in my life (or my species) but it sure is a big one. Good thing I know all about the big picture and the circles, cycles and spirals that make everything new all over again.
Thanks to at&t for getting ADSL syncing up again, whatever they did (and to Steve at at&t high-speed Internet customer care this morning for processing the Internet outage credit of $3.80 for this month).
From my father:
http://digital.olivesoftware.com/olive/ODE/KingsportTimesNews/, 13Mar2011, p. 1C.
Brother outlines attorney’s part prosecuting infamous Vietnam rape/murder case
‘I grew up that you do the honorable thing. And I think he did the honorable thing.’
— Ralph Yelton.
By REX BARBER
NET News Service
James Yelton was taught to always do the honorable thing.
He carried that sentiment with him to Vietnam, where he was sent by the Army’s Judge Advocate General Corps in the 1960s. One of the cases he prosecuted as a JAG lawyer there was the basis for a Hollywood movie about the rape and murder of a young Vietnamese woman by U.S. soldiers. That movie, “Casualties of War” starring Michael J. Fox and Sean Penn, was released in 1989. Hollywood producers came to Yelton’s home to consult with him on the facts of the case.
Yelton died in his sleep at his Kingsport home in late February. He was 76. James’ brother, 85-year-old Ralph Yelton, a World War II and Korean War veteran who became paralyzed by machine gun fire fighting in Korea and who also went on to serve 14 years in the Tennessee General Assembly, recalled his brother during an interview this past week.
“James was a very interesting person,” Ralph said as he showed various photographs of his brother. “He had a very high IQ. He was smart. He could talk about anything. He had a grasp, you know, of knowledge in a lot of areas of discussion.”
James graduated from Tipton Hill High School in Bakersville, N.C. He went on to get a doctorate of jurisprudence from Wake Forest U n i v e r s i t y.
With his degree in hand, he began practicing law in Burnsville, N.C., for about a year before opening his own practice in Bakersville. Soon James decided to join the Army because positions were open in the Judge Advocate General Corps.
His first assignment as a JAG officer was at Redstone Arsenal in Alabama. This facility, which is still operational, was opened in World War II to produce munitions.
“He was in charge of all the procurement contracts,” Ralph said of James’ responsibilities at Redstone. “The contracts for all of the material they needed to build those missiles there at Redstone Arsenal.”
James was eventually stationed around the globe, winding up in Vietnam in 1966, where he met a soldier who told him about the infamous kidnapping, rape and murder. Ralph said that soldier’s conscience was weighing heavily on him about the incident. That meeting was depicted in the movie, as Fox’s drunken character confides in a chaplain about the Vietnamese woman’s torture and death.
“They show it in the bar, in the movie, where my brother was talking to (the soldier with a guilty conscience). He could tell that he was really distraught, and James got to talking with him, and he told him what happened,” Ralph said. “He told him every bit of it, exactly what happened.”
Just like in the movie when Fox’s character had trouble getting superiors to act on the rape and murder, so did James, Ralph said.
“Well, James went, you know, to the company commander at first. Company commander said, ‘Shut it up. We don’t need that.’ He went to the battalion commander. … Battalion commander didn’t want it,” Ralph said. “But James went ahead with the case. He said that shouldn’t be. That was a crime that shouldn’t be allowed in the military.”
Four soldiers involved in the crime were sentenced to spend varying lengths of time in prison.
Ralph did not know if his brother ever watched the movie. He knows James did the right thing, though.
“I grew up that you do the honorable thing,” Ralph said. “And I think he did the honorable thing. That’s what we were taught all of our life. And I’m sure he did what he felt was the right thing to do, because in a war or anywhere else that kind of behavior don’t need to be tolerated. It don’t need to be let go on.”
Photo by Ron Campbell [removed from this blog entry]:
Former Tennessee state Rep. Ralph Yelton* holds a photograph of his brother James Yelton receiving the Legion of Merit award from Lt. Gen. Charles Hall.
* long-time member of Kingsport area Optimist Clubs.
Happy 2nd Anniversary, The Melting Pot of Huntsville!
A nod to Stephen Wysock at Aviagen – may you have another 10 great years with the company. Happy Birthday to your better half today.
Tonight, while enjoying the company of our server, Malarie (no, not malady or malaria, but named after the character on “Family Ties“), my wife and I observed the goings-on at the Melting Pot.
Friendly workers, seemingly happy.
The owner, Steve Hagins, and his son David in MBWA mode.
Steve’s proud (but not biased, of course) about his son’s second sense when it comes to customer service, able to detect a problem before it’s a problem and find a solution before his father knows there’s a problem.
Steve is well on his way toward handing the business over to his son in the next few years, allowing himself to take a long-term break, if not retire completely.
We remember the opening two years ago.
So does Steve.
After 19 months in preparation, working something like 125 days in a row, Steve was in automatic mode as the Melting Pot was set to open.
Realising his father was near a breaking point, David recommended he take a couple of days off.
And collapse he did.
We’ve all been there, Steve. We rarely know when we need rejuvenation until someone near and dear points it out.
We’ll be back at the Melting Pot because you put customer Numero Uno.
Speaking of customer service, I am focusing on helping another friend, Gary Shelton, and the product invention he shares with Joe McGinty over at Invetex. If you’re in the computer rack business and want a little extra security and peace of mind for your customers, give Invetex a look-see. An ounce of prevention is worth more than a pound of gold where data and cash flow is concerned.
It’s time for our annual support of UCP during An Irish Evening, hosted at the new Jackson Center. We’ll bid on some Irish gifts to share with our nephew, Jonathan, and his lovely new fiancée, Tammy, who’re planning an Irish-themed wedding soon.
‘Twill be a chilly evening tonight and I ran out of birdseed earlier this week, a mass of sparrows taking over the birdfeeders and cleaning me out. Maybe the raccoon in the attic won’t wake me up in the wee hours of the morning.
But Merlin will be at home tomorrow and the missus and I will have our two feline frolickers back under one roof again.
While the French (the French?) want to bomb Libya and the Germans (the Germans?) want to wait, there’ll peace in this household on the weekend.
Somebody tell that loudmouth at the New York Times to shut his trap so we can spread the love of franchising all over the world.
The new liberal way is to make everyone rich enough we can afford to fund our own social services or cause célèbre – no more depending on government assistance for the underprivileged, only for the companies in power, of course.
Obama tricked everyone (or was he tricked?) – now that he’s a millionaire, he’s a Republican wolf in Democratic sheep’s clothing like all the others on the list of “I’m wealthy and I’m not giving up my hard-earned cash” adherents to Reaganite Randianism – the whole healthcare/welfare thing was a typical politician’s ruse until the purse was full.
And I wonder why my presidential vote is counted but never counts…
Someone suggested we bomb an airliner over Libya and call it Lockerbie’s Revenge – be careful what you wish for ’cause I guarantee your wish will be what you want and not what you need.
If only I could tell you what you don’t really know…
The usual suspects in the lineup.
But we can still break free.
Wild beyond our wealthiest dreams!
Qu’est-ce que c’est, pietism, s’il vous plaît?
Il est guerre, n’est pas?
Correct spelling aside, Queen Margot lived a long time ago and violent uprisings still rule.
Seven billion strong – you will see.
I rule this alternate universe of a blog…now and forever…
Or until it’s time to share or abdicate.
The will of the people will.
Rule the rulers.
Ecoutez bien!
treetrunkdings 