The fat guy escaped up the chimney...but I was able to get his hat!
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Happy Procrastination Days to all
I love Christmas. So don’t get me wrong on what I am about to say…
This country is off its’ rocker. I guess that could be said in a broad sense, but is when it comes to Christmas and New Year’s, we really are out of control. I’m not even going to get into the fact that we generally miss the whole point of Christmas. I won’t discuss ( not in this post) my irritation with this whole “holiday tree” vs Christmas Tree debate. Let’s not talk about commercialism, or even misguided “traditions”, or competitive “holidays” that seem to have come out of nowhere…
No, I want to address the fact that from Thanksgiving until sometime around January 4 nobody wants to do anything but prepare, celebrate, and recover from “The holidays”. Like I said, I love Christmas. I enjoy decorating the house right around Thanksgiving and listening to Christmas music. I love the whole “holiday tradition thing”. What I don’t get however is the lack of ambition that the holidays bring on to the rest of the country. Suddenly Christmas has become an excuse for inactivity and non-decisiveness.
Look around you, at work no one answers their phones, everyone who can arrives late, sneaks out early, takes a little longer for lunch and generally procrastinates everything until “after the holidays”. Socially, no one can make a commitment to do anything until “after the holidays”. People who generally are willing to volunteer for tasks at churches, schools, hospitals, etc, suddenly can’t make a decision or a commitment until “after the holidays”.
What the hell are people doing that they are so shut down and unable to focus on anything else? How many cookies can you bake? How much gift buying and wrapping can you do? My God, even if you get drunk on eggnog and rum every day, there is still time between hang-over and next pour to return a few phone calls.
I will wager that Mary and Joseph didn’t do as much planning for the birth of Jesus as we do today to celebrate that birth. (Oh yeah… The birth of Jesus is the reason for the celebration, in case you forgot. ) In fact, there is biblical evidence that they waited until the last minute. Remember…they got to Bethlehem on time to answer the census, but they forgot to call ahead for hotel reservations. Consequently, the Bethlehem Ritz was sold out and they ended up sleeping and giving birth in a barn. While we like to think that Mary was ok with that, I’ll bet Joseph was in plenty of hot water over his procrastination. I would like to do some research on that whole episode, but I think I will wait until after the holidays.
This country is off its’ rocker. I guess that could be said in a broad sense, but is when it comes to Christmas and New Year’s, we really are out of control. I’m not even going to get into the fact that we generally miss the whole point of Christmas. I won’t discuss ( not in this post) my irritation with this whole “holiday tree” vs Christmas Tree debate. Let’s not talk about commercialism, or even misguided “traditions”, or competitive “holidays” that seem to have come out of nowhere…
No, I want to address the fact that from Thanksgiving until sometime around January 4 nobody wants to do anything but prepare, celebrate, and recover from “The holidays”. Like I said, I love Christmas. I enjoy decorating the house right around Thanksgiving and listening to Christmas music. I love the whole “holiday tradition thing”. What I don’t get however is the lack of ambition that the holidays bring on to the rest of the country. Suddenly Christmas has become an excuse for inactivity and non-decisiveness.
Look around you, at work no one answers their phones, everyone who can arrives late, sneaks out early, takes a little longer for lunch and generally procrastinates everything until “after the holidays”. Socially, no one can make a commitment to do anything until “after the holidays”. People who generally are willing to volunteer for tasks at churches, schools, hospitals, etc, suddenly can’t make a decision or a commitment until “after the holidays”.
What the hell are people doing that they are so shut down and unable to focus on anything else? How many cookies can you bake? How much gift buying and wrapping can you do? My God, even if you get drunk on eggnog and rum every day, there is still time between hang-over and next pour to return a few phone calls.
I will wager that Mary and Joseph didn’t do as much planning for the birth of Jesus as we do today to celebrate that birth. (Oh yeah… The birth of Jesus is the reason for the celebration, in case you forgot. ) In fact, there is biblical evidence that they waited until the last minute. Remember…they got to Bethlehem on time to answer the census, but they forgot to call ahead for hotel reservations. Consequently, the Bethlehem Ritz was sold out and they ended up sleeping and giving birth in a barn. While we like to think that Mary was ok with that, I’ll bet Joseph was in plenty of hot water over his procrastination. I would like to do some research on that whole episode, but I think I will wait until after the holidays.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Generations
Tomorrow ( Dec. 6 ) is Melissa’s 25th birthday. The same age by the way, that we were, when she was born.
I’ve said it before as has probably every other parent in the world; “where did the time go”? I guess it was gobbled up by work, and school, church commitments, family obligations, yard work, car repairs, and bill paying. But it also was consumed with holiday traditions, school plays and concerts, coloring books, re-runs of M*A*S*H and Dragnet, ( Melissa and I watched those shows together faithfully when she was 2, every night after dinner ), reading Dr. Seuss, vacations to the Smokey Mountains, raking leaves, sledding, learning to drive, and mourning fallen gold fish.
Melissa moved to her new home in Cleveland Heights recently. It didn’t take long to move her in. At 25 most people don’t own that much. The few pieces of furniture she took with her needed to be refinished first. So we took her chest of drawers and dresser to a sandblaster who removed the old varnish, stain, dust, crayon marks, finger nail polish, and make-up.
The furniture originally belonged to Robin’s Grandparents. They gave it to her parents, who then placed it in her room when she was a child. She grew up with the furniture and it came with us when we got married. When we moved to “the new house” we put it in Melissa’s room. It is now in it’s 6th assignment.
Since it was being moved to Melissa’s house, we decided to refinish it as her 25th birthday present. It is amazing how different it looks. She chose a dark cherry color stain, and I used tung oil instead of varnish to finish it. She is picking out new hardware in order to “update” these fairly old pieces of very well made furniture.
As I finished it yesterday, I wrote a birthday greeting inside one of the drawers... Then I loaded it with a bunch of memories.
I’ve said it before as has probably every other parent in the world; “where did the time go”? I guess it was gobbled up by work, and school, church commitments, family obligations, yard work, car repairs, and bill paying. But it also was consumed with holiday traditions, school plays and concerts, coloring books, re-runs of M*A*S*H and Dragnet, ( Melissa and I watched those shows together faithfully when she was 2, every night after dinner ), reading Dr. Seuss, vacations to the Smokey Mountains, raking leaves, sledding, learning to drive, and mourning fallen gold fish.
Melissa moved to her new home in Cleveland Heights recently. It didn’t take long to move her in. At 25 most people don’t own that much. The few pieces of furniture she took with her needed to be refinished first. So we took her chest of drawers and dresser to a sandblaster who removed the old varnish, stain, dust, crayon marks, finger nail polish, and make-up.
The furniture originally belonged to Robin’s Grandparents. They gave it to her parents, who then placed it in her room when she was a child. She grew up with the furniture and it came with us when we got married. When we moved to “the new house” we put it in Melissa’s room. It is now in it’s 6th assignment.
Since it was being moved to Melissa’s house, we decided to refinish it as her 25th birthday present. It is amazing how different it looks. She chose a dark cherry color stain, and I used tung oil instead of varnish to finish it. She is picking out new hardware in order to “update” these fairly old pieces of very well made furniture.
As I finished it yesterday, I wrote a birthday greeting inside one of the drawers... Then I loaded it with a bunch of memories.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Growing Up ( Part III )
I have a personal tradition. Whenever someone important to me passes from this earthly life into eternity, I play a recording of the Faure’ Requiem. I especially love to listen to the "In Paradisum” movement and imagine the recently departed entering paradise and being greeted into eternity by God.
On November 20 I listened to the Faure’ Requiem.
Lee Chidsey, was N. Royalton official
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Alana Baranick Plain Dealer Reporter
North Royalton - Lee Chidsey, who directed finances for the city of North Royalton and choirs for several churches, died Saturday at Hospice Services of Southwest General in Strongsville.
The 86-year-old North Royalton resident served as finance director from December 1969 until retiring in 1986. For most of those years, she also was the city's tax administrator.
Chidsey, who was born Leonore Saunders in North Royalton, graduated from North Royalton High School in 1937. For two years, she attended a Cleveland business school that was a forerunner of David N. Myers University.
In her first finance-related job, she kept books for the Northern Ohio Food Terminal in Cleveland. She later was a payroll clerk for the North Royalton schools.
As a young woman, she directed the choir at Bennett's Corners Community Methodist Church in Hinckley Township near the North Royalton border. In the early 1940s, she lived in Wake man in Huron County, where she led a Congregational church choir.
She stayed with her sister in Brooklyn, while her husband, Harold "Hal," served overseas with the Army during World War II. After the war, the Chidseys lived at Hal's parents farm in Brunswick until buying a farmhouse in North Royalton.
Chidsey conducted the North Royalton PTA Mother Singers for 10 years. When her husband was band director at North Royalton High School in the 1950s, the mother of four sewed outfits for the majorettes and cheerleaders.
She served as choir director at North Royalton United Methodist Church, started its bell choir and played piano for Sunday school classes. She also wrote, directed and made costumes for holiday pageants.
On Christmas Eve, she led choristers at two services. Between sessions, she fed the singers at her house. Chidsey's relatives traditionally gathered at her home at dawn for Christmas breakfast.
The choir director celebrated Thanksgiving with a family jam session of seasonal tunes. All of her offspring play musical instruments. Those too young to have mastered an instrument play triangles or tambourines, so nobody feels left out. The tradition will continue the day after Chidsey's funeral.
In addition to her husband of 64 years, who retired as band director at Brecksville High School, survivors include her daughters, Joanna Haberbusch of Burbank and Janet Doty of Mentor; sons, Robert of North Royalton and Ronald of Brunswick; eight grandchildren; and three great-grandchildren.
Services will be at 11 a.m. Wednesday at North Royalton United Methodist Church, 13601 Ridge Road, North Royalton.
Arrangements are by Babitt Funeral Home of North Royalton.
At the funeral, I saw Jan for the first time in 21 years. For the moment that we hugged each other it was 1963. It was a moment to be close to Mrs. Chidsey one last time.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine. Et lux perpetua luceat eis.
On November 20 I listened to the Faure’ Requiem.
Lee Chidsey, was N. Royalton official
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Alana Baranick Plain Dealer Reporter
North Royalton - Lee Chidsey, who directed finances for the city of North Royalton and choirs for several churches, died Saturday at Hospice Services of Southwest General in Strongsville.
The 86-year-old North Royalton resident served as finance director from December 1969 until retiring in 1986. For most of those years, she also was the city's tax administrator.
Chidsey, who was born Leonore Saunders in North Royalton, graduated from North Royalton High School in 1937. For two years, she attended a Cleveland business school that was a forerunner of David N. Myers University.
In her first finance-related job, she kept books for the Northern Ohio Food Terminal in Cleveland. She later was a payroll clerk for the North Royalton schools.
As a young woman, she directed the choir at Bennett's Corners Community Methodist Church in Hinckley Township near the North Royalton border. In the early 1940s, she lived in Wake man in Huron County, where she led a Congregational church choir.
She stayed with her sister in Brooklyn, while her husband, Harold "Hal," served overseas with the Army during World War II. After the war, the Chidseys lived at Hal's parents farm in Brunswick until buying a farmhouse in North Royalton.
Chidsey conducted the North Royalton PTA Mother Singers for 10 years. When her husband was band director at North Royalton High School in the 1950s, the mother of four sewed outfits for the majorettes and cheerleaders.
She served as choir director at North Royalton United Methodist Church, started its bell choir and played piano for Sunday school classes. She also wrote, directed and made costumes for holiday pageants.
On Christmas Eve, she led choristers at two services. Between sessions, she fed the singers at her house. Chidsey's relatives traditionally gathered at her home at dawn for Christmas breakfast.
The choir director celebrated Thanksgiving with a family jam session of seasonal tunes. All of her offspring play musical instruments. Those too young to have mastered an instrument play triangles or tambourines, so nobody feels left out. The tradition will continue the day after Chidsey's funeral.
In addition to her husband of 64 years, who retired as band director at Brecksville High School, survivors include her daughters, Joanna Haberbusch of Burbank and Janet Doty of Mentor; sons, Robert of North Royalton and Ronald of Brunswick; eight grandchildren; and three great-grandchildren.
Services will be at 11 a.m. Wednesday at North Royalton United Methodist Church, 13601 Ridge Road, North Royalton.
Arrangements are by Babitt Funeral Home of North Royalton.
At the funeral, I saw Jan for the first time in 21 years. For the moment that we hugged each other it was 1963. It was a moment to be close to Mrs. Chidsey one last time.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine. Et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Growing Up ( part II)
She was the prettiest girl in the school. Maybe even the whole world (at least in the world of a five-year old boy).
She was my first love. We held hands at church. But now there was a bigger universe, kindergarten. There was competition everywhere. It didn’t take long before our relationship changed. But then at five years old, what is time? It may have been the first day of school; it may have taken weeks, or months. But the “romance” was over and we were relegated to friends. We ice-skated together on the flooded field behind her house with our older brothers. We collected old newspapers for the church youth group fund-raisers, again with our older brothers. We sang in the choir together and learned to play hand-bells.
Like most third graders my social world was limited. In my case there were two; school and church. School was a nightmare. Mrs. Cochran, the third grade teacher, the witch, was up to her misguided attack. For six hours each day Monday through Friday, I was miserable. Weekends were a refuge and a time to forget. It was also a time to heal. I found healing from family, and church activities. Church and home…places where I could be me. Don & Janet were at church, and the absolute and complete opposite of Mrs. Cochran was Janet’s’ Mom; Mrs. Chidsey.
Mrs. Chidsey was the church choir director. She was everybody’s mom at church. She had the warmest most caring smile. She knew everything about music. She knew how to make everyone feel important, and feel good about ourselves. She directed the adult choir, she directed the teen choir, the children’s choir and the hand-bell choir. She taught us not only about music but also about performance. She put her soul into our performances and taught us how to put our souls into those performances as well. She wrote the special holiday plays and pageants. She made the costumes, she fed us, she loved us, and she made me feel special. She smoothed over the damage of the third grade teacher.
I knew at the time that she was a special person, but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how much she meant to me. As I began performing and directing performances I realized just how much Mrs. Chidsey taught me. She taught me how to be professional. She instilled in me a love for sacred music.
A few years ago, at the end of a concert with the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus, I had a chance to speak with the great choral director; Robert Page. I thanked him for allowing me the opportunity to sing in his chorus. I said that I remembered my audition as being atrocious and that I appreciated his taking a chance on me. He told me that he remembered my audition as well and confirmed that it was pretty bad. Then he went on to say that he accepted me in the chorus because he believed I had the vocal talent, but more importantly he saw that I had "music in my soul". I thought at that moment; "God gave me the gift of voice. Mrs. Chidsey opened it."
She was my first love. We held hands at church. But now there was a bigger universe, kindergarten. There was competition everywhere. It didn’t take long before our relationship changed. But then at five years old, what is time? It may have been the first day of school; it may have taken weeks, or months. But the “romance” was over and we were relegated to friends. We ice-skated together on the flooded field behind her house with our older brothers. We collected old newspapers for the church youth group fund-raisers, again with our older brothers. We sang in the choir together and learned to play hand-bells.
Like most third graders my social world was limited. In my case there were two; school and church. School was a nightmare. Mrs. Cochran, the third grade teacher, the witch, was up to her misguided attack. For six hours each day Monday through Friday, I was miserable. Weekends were a refuge and a time to forget. It was also a time to heal. I found healing from family, and church activities. Church and home…places where I could be me. Don & Janet were at church, and the absolute and complete opposite of Mrs. Cochran was Janet’s’ Mom; Mrs. Chidsey.
Mrs. Chidsey was the church choir director. She was everybody’s mom at church. She had the warmest most caring smile. She knew everything about music. She knew how to make everyone feel important, and feel good about ourselves. She directed the adult choir, she directed the teen choir, the children’s choir and the hand-bell choir. She taught us not only about music but also about performance. She put her soul into our performances and taught us how to put our souls into those performances as well. She wrote the special holiday plays and pageants. She made the costumes, she fed us, she loved us, and she made me feel special. She smoothed over the damage of the third grade teacher.
I knew at the time that she was a special person, but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how much she meant to me. As I began performing and directing performances I realized just how much Mrs. Chidsey taught me. She taught me how to be professional. She instilled in me a love for sacred music.
A few years ago, at the end of a concert with the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus, I had a chance to speak with the great choral director; Robert Page. I thanked him for allowing me the opportunity to sing in his chorus. I said that I remembered my audition as being atrocious and that I appreciated his taking a chance on me. He told me that he remembered my audition as well and confirmed that it was pretty bad. Then he went on to say that he accepted me in the chorus because he believed I had the vocal talent, but more importantly he saw that I had "music in my soul". I thought at that moment; "God gave me the gift of voice. Mrs. Chidsey opened it."
Growing Up (part I)
I had a pretty normal childhood, at least from outside appearances. My family was terrific. We all got along great and mom & dad always provided for us even when money was tight. I wasn’t abused or mistreated…at least not at home.
Actually life was pretty good until the third grade. I ran into a very sick individual who happened to be my third grade teacher. She was married to a fairly prominent local business owner and was purported to have been an ordained minister. All I know for sure is that she was twisted and should never have been allowed near children. For some unknown reason I became her target. She never touched me or abused me physically she did however launch an emotional psychological attack that took me years to come to grips with.
On a daily basis she stood me up in front of my classmates as an example of “stupid”. She nicknamed me “bump on a log” and would call on me by that name. If I performed poorly on a test or assignment she would not only show my work as a bad example, but would share the information with other teachers. What hurt the most however was how she systematically turned my classmates against me. She actually targeted other kids who continued to be my friend until they too would turn against me.
I said she never touched me, but there was one day where she manipulated an “April Fools Day” activity so that I was dared to kiss the teacher. Ultimately it was not the other kids who goaded me, it was her. I remember vividly being humiliated into pressing my lips against the cheek of this vile person as the class watched. I literally went home and vomited. I told my mother I thought I ate a bad hot dog in the cafeteria.
My parents never could comprehend that what I was reporting to them was the truth. I guess they thought that I had an active imagination and was using it to defend my poor performance at school. It wasn’t until after the year ended that they came to realize what damage had been done.
By the end of the school year I had no friends except for Don and Janet. They were my friends from church. Don was my buddy no matter what. When the teacher discovered this, she started picking on him. Fortunately for Don, it was pretty late in the school year so she didn’t have much time to work on him. Janet was sparred because her family was also very well known in the community. Her dad was a teacher and her mom was the city Finance Director and the choir director at the local Methodist Church. I would bet that they both suffered some humiliation on my part, but they stuck it out.
Socially, I didn’t fully recover from this until the ninth grade. Mentally I still deal with it. In fact, despite my outward appearance of self-confidence, I still find myself dealing with self-esteem issues. I chose to mask these feelings by being the jokester and acting like a guy with a huge ego. Evidently I am a more talented actor than I or anyone has ever given me credit for.
Actually life was pretty good until the third grade. I ran into a very sick individual who happened to be my third grade teacher. She was married to a fairly prominent local business owner and was purported to have been an ordained minister. All I know for sure is that she was twisted and should never have been allowed near children. For some unknown reason I became her target. She never touched me or abused me physically she did however launch an emotional psychological attack that took me years to come to grips with.
On a daily basis she stood me up in front of my classmates as an example of “stupid”. She nicknamed me “bump on a log” and would call on me by that name. If I performed poorly on a test or assignment she would not only show my work as a bad example, but would share the information with other teachers. What hurt the most however was how she systematically turned my classmates against me. She actually targeted other kids who continued to be my friend until they too would turn against me.
I said she never touched me, but there was one day where she manipulated an “April Fools Day” activity so that I was dared to kiss the teacher. Ultimately it was not the other kids who goaded me, it was her. I remember vividly being humiliated into pressing my lips against the cheek of this vile person as the class watched. I literally went home and vomited. I told my mother I thought I ate a bad hot dog in the cafeteria.
My parents never could comprehend that what I was reporting to them was the truth. I guess they thought that I had an active imagination and was using it to defend my poor performance at school. It wasn’t until after the year ended that they came to realize what damage had been done.
By the end of the school year I had no friends except for Don and Janet. They were my friends from church. Don was my buddy no matter what. When the teacher discovered this, she started picking on him. Fortunately for Don, it was pretty late in the school year so she didn’t have much time to work on him. Janet was sparred because her family was also very well known in the community. Her dad was a teacher and her mom was the city Finance Director and the choir director at the local Methodist Church. I would bet that they both suffered some humiliation on my part, but they stuck it out.
Socially, I didn’t fully recover from this until the ninth grade. Mentally I still deal with it. In fact, despite my outward appearance of self-confidence, I still find myself dealing with self-esteem issues. I chose to mask these feelings by being the jokester and acting like a guy with a huge ego. Evidently I am a more talented actor than I or anyone has ever given me credit for.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
First homes
I remember... My Mom was washing dishes and not saying much.
I shouted a quick "see ya later" and I carried the last load of my worldly possessions out to my car, and I was off to my first apartment. My wedding was still a few weeks away, but we were anxious to get settled in our new home.
It wasn't much of a first apartment, just one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and gold sculptured carpet. Oh yeah, it was a basement apartment because it was ten dollars a month less than the second and third floor units. Since between the two of us we were only making $60 a week, that extra ten bucks was a big consideration.
Mom & Dad gave us most of our furniture. I gave Robin a rocking chair for Christmas the year before. Then we bought a kitchen table and chairs. Robin wrote the check and dated it for the wrong year!. The furniture store called like they were trying to round up Bonnie & Clyde.
We lived on that $60 a week until I landed my first stage management job. That paid me $100 a week. We thought we were rich.
That first apartment was small, and we were broke, but we were adults now, free to make our own decisions and mistakes. Responsible for our own debts. We had to pay bills, and repair broken things, and buy groceries, and take out garbage. It was "our house" though and so we were excited. We didn't notice that our parents weren't talking much.
I found it pretty hard to talk last night. I ate dinner in relative silence. After dinner, I rounded up some boxes and gathered up some "essentials" for a new home. We talked about moving the furniture over the weekend. We're hoping it isn't raining or snowing.
I had to leave for a meeting at the church. When I came home, I went upstairs to the bedroom in the back of the house. It was empty except for some items that were not important enough to take yet. We'll get that stuff when we move the rest of the furniture.
It started snowing today. I called her at her office. She answered the phone very professionally. I said; "It 'nowing Mewissa". She laughed.
She won't come home from work tonight. She'll be going to her house instead. I know now, why my Mom didn't say much that day.
I shouted a quick "see ya later" and I carried the last load of my worldly possessions out to my car, and I was off to my first apartment. My wedding was still a few weeks away, but we were anxious to get settled in our new home.
It wasn't much of a first apartment, just one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and gold sculptured carpet. Oh yeah, it was a basement apartment because it was ten dollars a month less than the second and third floor units. Since between the two of us we were only making $60 a week, that extra ten bucks was a big consideration.
Mom & Dad gave us most of our furniture. I gave Robin a rocking chair for Christmas the year before. Then we bought a kitchen table and chairs. Robin wrote the check and dated it for the wrong year!. The furniture store called like they were trying to round up Bonnie & Clyde.
We lived on that $60 a week until I landed my first stage management job. That paid me $100 a week. We thought we were rich.
That first apartment was small, and we were broke, but we were adults now, free to make our own decisions and mistakes. Responsible for our own debts. We had to pay bills, and repair broken things, and buy groceries, and take out garbage. It was "our house" though and so we were excited. We didn't notice that our parents weren't talking much.
I found it pretty hard to talk last night. I ate dinner in relative silence. After dinner, I rounded up some boxes and gathered up some "essentials" for a new home. We talked about moving the furniture over the weekend. We're hoping it isn't raining or snowing.
I had to leave for a meeting at the church. When I came home, I went upstairs to the bedroom in the back of the house. It was empty except for some items that were not important enough to take yet. We'll get that stuff when we move the rest of the furniture.
It started snowing today. I called her at her office. She answered the phone very professionally. I said; "It 'nowing Mewissa". She laughed.
She won't come home from work tonight. She'll be going to her house instead. I know now, why my Mom didn't say much that day.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
With apologies to one armed wall paper hangers...
I haven't posted in awhile, because I have been busier than a one armed wall paper hanger!
As you know from my last post, we started rehearsals for a Christmas musical. Since I am the author, director, and one of the leads I have a lot to think about. In addition, we have decided to move the show into another venue, which means it has to be re-mounted... new lights, new sets, sound, blocking, everything that makes a show a show... anyhow, my life is not suppossed to be boring.
As you know from my last post, we started rehearsals for a Christmas musical. Since I am the author, director, and one of the leads I have a lot to think about. In addition, we have decided to move the show into another venue, which means it has to be re-mounted... new lights, new sets, sound, blocking, everything that makes a show a show... anyhow, my life is not suppossed to be boring.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Christmas season starts today!
Tonight was the first rehearsal for our (almost) annual Christmas musical; "Sarah Wesley's Christmas Tree". I wrote this show several years ago and performed a leading role in it at its premier. Since then, the very talented Todd Stuart had the role. He took a powder to Philly last year and isn't available to do the part anymore. So we held a moment of silent prayer in memory of Todd... and on I go...
Pleasant Hills United Methodist Church
13200 E. Bagley Road
Middleburg Heights, Ohio
In cooperation with Mark Foster Music Company and Shawnee Press
Presents
Sarah Wesley’s Christmas Tree
A Christmas Musical in Three Acts
With Dinner!
Book by James F Szakacs and Ann Montz
Musical Arrangements by Herbert Bielawa, Ginger Cover-Colla, Bradley Ellingboe, Z. Randall Stroope, Rene’ Clausen,Richard Donohue, James McKelvy, and Jerome Wright
Directed by James F Szakacs
Musical Direction by Bruce R. Giles
Friday, December 2, 2005 - 7:00pm
Saturday, December 3, 2005 - 7:00pm
Sunday, December 4, 2005 - 6:00pm
Thursday, December 8, 2005 - 7:00pm
Friday, December 9, 2005 - 7:00pm
Saturday, December 10, 2005 - 7:00pm
Sunday, December 11, 2005 - 6:00pm
Reserved Seating $28.00 includes dinner
roast pork with dressing, potatoes, vegetables, salad, rolls, dessert and beverages
Call: 440-234-5229 for tickets
Pleasant Hills United Methodist Church
13200 E. Bagley Road
Middleburg Heights, Ohio
In cooperation with Mark Foster Music Company and Shawnee Press
Presents
Sarah Wesley’s Christmas Tree
A Christmas Musical in Three Acts
With Dinner!
Book by James F Szakacs and Ann Montz
Musical Arrangements by Herbert Bielawa, Ginger Cover-Colla, Bradley Ellingboe, Z. Randall Stroope, Rene’ Clausen,Richard Donohue, James McKelvy, and Jerome Wright
Directed by James F Szakacs
Musical Direction by Bruce R. Giles
Friday, December 2, 2005 - 7:00pm
Saturday, December 3, 2005 - 7:00pm
Sunday, December 4, 2005 - 6:00pm
Thursday, December 8, 2005 - 7:00pm
Friday, December 9, 2005 - 7:00pm
Saturday, December 10, 2005 - 7:00pm
Sunday, December 11, 2005 - 6:00pm
Reserved Seating $28.00 includes dinner
roast pork with dressing, potatoes, vegetables, salad, rolls, dessert and beverages
Call: 440-234-5229 for tickets
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
More monday morning quarterbacking
Recently a 15 year old male was shot and killed by Cleveland Police Officers conducting a search of his home. It seems he was suspected of multiple cases of robbing pizza deliverymen at knifepoint. The officers went to his home with a search warrant and while conducting their search, were "allegedly" attacked by the young man wielding a knife.
Of course the community is outraged that these two officers found it necessary to protect themeselves by shooting this fine upstanding citizen.
This morning, Cleveland Plain Dealer Reporter Regina Brett raised several issues surrounding this incident. Following is a copy of an email I sent her. Since it will never make it to the paper, I publish it here...
Regina...
You really disapointed me today. You are usually level headed, fair, and right on point. Today however I think you are WAY out...
Near the end of your article you asked the question; "Did it take 10 shots to stop him? Couldn't armed police wearing bulletproof vests disarm a boy with a knife?"
Please Regina consider the following...
1) Bulletproof vests are NO protection from knives. This is primarily due to the fact that they do not cover arms, hands, faces, necks, legs, groins, etc.
2) This "boy" is 15 years old. a man by physical standards.
3) "armed police"; these are key words. Police are armed to protect themselves and society from "clear and present dangers". When an officer draws his/her weapon it is because either they, their partner, or another individual is in grave danger. These decisions must be made in split seconds. I believe that even the most liberal of liberals would have to admit that a knife wielding man lunging at you would be considered a clear and present danger.
4) Consider "split seconds"; How large was Brandon's bedroom? Let's assume it is a larger than normal bedroom, say...15'x15'. Do this experiment; either at home or in the comfort of your office have someone lunge at you from 15' away. How long does it take them to cover that ground and be on top of you? Now have your "attacker" pick up a knife ( how long of a knife? Use something the length of the one Brandon was caught with previously. Oh wait, that's not fair we don't know if it was that large. Let's make it only 3" instead of 8".) Now, have your "attacker" lunge at you brandishing that knife. Still not convinced? Replace your "attacker" with someone you don't know. Replace him with someone who is known to have used a knife on multiple occassions to rob other people. Is the scenario getting more intense?
5) Consider that even with 1 or 2 fatal shots in a lunging body, death does not come fast enough to protect you from attack in the final few "split seconds" before life ends. The attacker will continue to move toward you and most likely still be in attack mode. ( Shooting to wound would not be an option either now would it?)
In those few "split seconds" you consider the safety of yourself, your partner, anyone else in the vacinity. You consider your loved ones who you might be leaving behind... You don't have a taser because they have not been approved yet by your department because somewhere someone on crack-cocaine with a pre-existing heart condition might die if they are tasered... ( sorry this is another topic all together.)
Now ask yourself Regina... How many times would you pull the trigger?
Of course the community is outraged that these two officers found it necessary to protect themeselves by shooting this fine upstanding citizen.
This morning, Cleveland Plain Dealer Reporter Regina Brett raised several issues surrounding this incident. Following is a copy of an email I sent her. Since it will never make it to the paper, I publish it here...
Regina...
You really disapointed me today. You are usually level headed, fair, and right on point. Today however I think you are WAY out...
Near the end of your article you asked the question; "Did it take 10 shots to stop him? Couldn't armed police wearing bulletproof vests disarm a boy with a knife?"
Please Regina consider the following...
1) Bulletproof vests are NO protection from knives. This is primarily due to the fact that they do not cover arms, hands, faces, necks, legs, groins, etc.
2) This "boy" is 15 years old. a man by physical standards.
3) "armed police"; these are key words. Police are armed to protect themselves and society from "clear and present dangers". When an officer draws his/her weapon it is because either they, their partner, or another individual is in grave danger. These decisions must be made in split seconds. I believe that even the most liberal of liberals would have to admit that a knife wielding man lunging at you would be considered a clear and present danger.
4) Consider "split seconds"; How large was Brandon's bedroom? Let's assume it is a larger than normal bedroom, say...15'x15'. Do this experiment; either at home or in the comfort of your office have someone lunge at you from 15' away. How long does it take them to cover that ground and be on top of you? Now have your "attacker" pick up a knife ( how long of a knife? Use something the length of the one Brandon was caught with previously. Oh wait, that's not fair we don't know if it was that large. Let's make it only 3" instead of 8".) Now, have your "attacker" lunge at you brandishing that knife. Still not convinced? Replace your "attacker" with someone you don't know. Replace him with someone who is known to have used a knife on multiple occassions to rob other people. Is the scenario getting more intense?
5) Consider that even with 1 or 2 fatal shots in a lunging body, death does not come fast enough to protect you from attack in the final few "split seconds" before life ends. The attacker will continue to move toward you and most likely still be in attack mode. ( Shooting to wound would not be an option either now would it?)
In those few "split seconds" you consider the safety of yourself, your partner, anyone else in the vacinity. You consider your loved ones who you might be leaving behind... You don't have a taser because they have not been approved yet by your department because somewhere someone on crack-cocaine with a pre-existing heart condition might die if they are tasered... ( sorry this is another topic all together.)
Now ask yourself Regina... How many times would you pull the trigger?
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Who else can we blame?
Why do we find it necessary to find blame for everything that happens on this earth?
The Democrats are screaming that the current administration is doing a lousy job of responding to what we know is the worst natural disaster ever to occur in this country.
If the Democrats were in control, the Republicans would be doing the same thing.
Personally, it all makes me sick. To think that anyone could have responded any faster or better is preposterous. Wake up America!
Could the government possibly be better prepared? Of course they could. In fact, if we as a society were willing to increase our taxes to ridiculous levels, the government could fund research and preparation for virtually every conceivable and inconceivable tragedy that could occur. But that wouldn't be reasonable now would it?
Monday morning quarterbacking in this country has become an artform.
How about this... Democrats, Republicans, whites, blacks, hispanics, Christians, Jews, Muslims, MEDIA... let's start thinking like rational, caring human beings and band together to overcome this tragedy instead of spending energy and resource to point fingers and promote personal and political agendas.
The Democrats are screaming that the current administration is doing a lousy job of responding to what we know is the worst natural disaster ever to occur in this country.
If the Democrats were in control, the Republicans would be doing the same thing.
Personally, it all makes me sick. To think that anyone could have responded any faster or better is preposterous. Wake up America!
Could the government possibly be better prepared? Of course they could. In fact, if we as a society were willing to increase our taxes to ridiculous levels, the government could fund research and preparation for virtually every conceivable and inconceivable tragedy that could occur. But that wouldn't be reasonable now would it?
Monday morning quarterbacking in this country has become an artform.
How about this... Democrats, Republicans, whites, blacks, hispanics, Christians, Jews, Muslims, MEDIA... let's start thinking like rational, caring human beings and band together to overcome this tragedy instead of spending energy and resource to point fingers and promote personal and political agendas.
Friday, September 02, 2005
100% of your contribution will go to hurricane relief
UMCOR: Hurricane Relief
Hurricane Katrina carried heavy rains and high winds that wrought catastrophic damage to the Gulf Coast. UMCOR is there, responding to the needs of the thousands of people affected by this disaster. UMCOR will continue to provide assistance to the people left most vulnerable by this storm for years to come.
Donations to the United Methodist Committee on Relief's (UMCOR) Hurricanes Global (Advance #982523) response can be made online through UMC.org's secure server.
www.umc.org
Your tax-deductible gift may be placed in United Methodist church offering plates or sent directly to: UMCOR, PO Box 9068, New York, NY 10087-9068. Checks should be made out to: UMCOR. Please list in the memo area of your check "UMCOR Advance #982523, Hurricanes 2005 Global". Donations are also being taken by phone at 1-800-554-8583.
Hurricane Katrina carried heavy rains and high winds that wrought catastrophic damage to the Gulf Coast. UMCOR is there, responding to the needs of the thousands of people affected by this disaster. UMCOR will continue to provide assistance to the people left most vulnerable by this storm for years to come.
Donations to the United Methodist Committee on Relief's (UMCOR) Hurricanes Global (Advance #982523) response can be made online through UMC.org's secure server.
www.umc.org
Your tax-deductible gift may be placed in United Methodist church offering plates or sent directly to: UMCOR, PO Box 9068, New York, NY 10087-9068. Checks should be made out to: UMCOR. Please list in the memo area of your check "UMCOR Advance #982523, Hurricanes 2005 Global". Donations are also being taken by phone at 1-800-554-8583.
Friday, August 19, 2005
I don't know where all of that time went. I have an increasing appreciation for Bob Segers' "Like A Rock".I still feel like I'm 25 or so, but that can't be because my oldest daughter is 24.Life is good. When I was 16 I was convinced that I would meet with some tragic early death and never see 18. So every year after that has been a gift.
Stood there boldly
Sweatin’ in the sun
Felt like a million
Felt like number one
The height of summer
I’d never felt that strong
Like a rock
I was eighteen
Didn’t have a care
Working for peanuts
Not a dime to spare
But I was lean and
Solid everywhere
Like a rock
My hands were steady
My eyes were clear and bright
My walk had purpose
My steps were quick and light
And I held firmly
To what I felt was right
Like a rock
Like a rock, I was strong as I could be
Like a rock, nothin’ ever got to me
Like a rock, I was something to see
Like a rock
And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams
Thirty years now
Where’d they go?
Thirty years
I don’t know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they’ve gone
And sometimes late at night
When I’m bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin’ a ghostly white
And I recall
Recall
Like a rock. standin’ arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin’ from the gate
Like a rock, carryin’ the weight
Like a rock
Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock
Bob Seger
Stood there boldly
Sweatin’ in the sun
Felt like a million
Felt like number one
The height of summer
I’d never felt that strong
Like a rock
I was eighteen
Didn’t have a care
Working for peanuts
Not a dime to spare
But I was lean and
Solid everywhere
Like a rock
My hands were steady
My eyes were clear and bright
My walk had purpose
My steps were quick and light
And I held firmly
To what I felt was right
Like a rock
Like a rock, I was strong as I could be
Like a rock, nothin’ ever got to me
Like a rock, I was something to see
Like a rock
And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams
Thirty years now
Where’d they go?
Thirty years
I don’t know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they’ve gone
And sometimes late at night
When I’m bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin’ a ghostly white
And I recall
Recall
Like a rock. standin’ arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin’ from the gate
Like a rock, carryin’ the weight
Like a rock
Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock
Bob Seger
Friday, August 12, 2005
Differences
A Marine from our town was buried today…He was 25 years old. The same age as my daughter and her friends…He wanted to be a policeman.
There were several thousands of people at the service. The funeral procession went on for miles. It included relatives, friends, acquaintances, representatives of every branch of the armed services, politicians, dignitaries, representatives from at least 50 police departments, two motorcycle clubs, and hundreds of people who never met this young man; they just wanted to pay their respects and say thank you and goodbye to a hero.
As a Reserve Police Officer, I had the honor of playing a small role in this dramatic farewell. I worked all night then spent a long hot morning assisting with traffic and security. It was the least I could do.
Two things occurred to me;
First, as more of our son’s and daughter’s come home in boxes, there will be less and less attention…
Second, if the people who hate the U.S. so much were right about us, we would have approached the terrorism situation much differently… Instead of sending our son’s and daughter’s as liberators, we would have sent our bombers until the mid-east were nothing but ashes. Then we would have sealed our borders, and deported, imprisoned, or executed anyone who matched the profile of our enemies.
We don’t think that way however. As a country we never enter war as conquerors but as defenders and liberators. As citizens, despite our differing political views we support our troops as they defend the principals of freedom, wherever they are sent.
And unlike the terrorists who embrace and welcome death…we value life, and we mourn.
There were several thousands of people at the service. The funeral procession went on for miles. It included relatives, friends, acquaintances, representatives of every branch of the armed services, politicians, dignitaries, representatives from at least 50 police departments, two motorcycle clubs, and hundreds of people who never met this young man; they just wanted to pay their respects and say thank you and goodbye to a hero.
As a Reserve Police Officer, I had the honor of playing a small role in this dramatic farewell. I worked all night then spent a long hot morning assisting with traffic and security. It was the least I could do.
Two things occurred to me;
First, as more of our son’s and daughter’s come home in boxes, there will be less and less attention…
Second, if the people who hate the U.S. so much were right about us, we would have approached the terrorism situation much differently… Instead of sending our son’s and daughter’s as liberators, we would have sent our bombers until the mid-east were nothing but ashes. Then we would have sealed our borders, and deported, imprisoned, or executed anyone who matched the profile of our enemies.
We don’t think that way however. As a country we never enter war as conquerors but as defenders and liberators. As citizens, despite our differing political views we support our troops as they defend the principals of freedom, wherever they are sent.
And unlike the terrorists who embrace and welcome death…we value life, and we mourn.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Bitten again.
Integrity, honesty, and loyalty. Three attributes that everyone should appreciate in their friends, relatives, and business acquaintances. Why is it, that despite my committment to these qualities, I keep getting bitten on the ass?
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Rain
It’s raining today. It feels good.
It has been very hot and humid lately, only threatening to rain during the day with an occasional shower at night. Sometimes, I just feel like I need a rainy day. It relieves me of my “responsibilities” to work in the yard and be productive. It gives me a day off to relax and think.
We’ve had a lot to think about lately. My Dad discovered he had all five major arteries to his heart blocked anywhere from 90 to 100%. This caused damage to his mitral valve.
All week, I felt like it should be raining.
At 79 it could have been the end. But Dad is tough. He survived the South Pacific in WWII. This wasn’t going to bring him down.
One full week of tests and waiting for surgery culminated with 5 hours of surgery. It’s been almost two full days since the surgery was completed. He had a minor bout with his blood pressure, but in general he is cruising to a renewed life of energy and life.
We go though life thinking that “things” will always be the same. Then one day, something dramatic happens and you realize that anyone of us could experience anything at anytime that could change our patterns of life forever. This was one of those experiences. The thought of losing my Dad had me terrified.
I took inventory of all the things he has meant to me. He taught me how to fix things around the house. He taught me how to work. He taught me how to have a sense of humor. He taught me how to be a husband, and how to be a father. As he ages and talks more about his WWII experiences, he has taught me about bravery, sacrifice, honor, and faith. I doubt that he realizes this because he is not a man of ego.
As I visited him in the hospital yesterday, I told him he was my hero. He just smiled through his pain and looked a little embarrassed at the possibility that he could be a hero. But as I watched him face this difficult surgery and begin his recovery, he demonstrates once again just how tough he is. No complaints, just determination to get through it and not inconvenience anyone while he does.
It’s raining today. The sky is dark and there is the ominous sound of thunder. At some moments it is so dark it seems like the Sun is gone forever. The thunder is deafening and sounds treacherous. Finding out that you or a loved one is seriously ill is kind of like that. Everything sounds scary and treacherous. The world becomes tenuous. At moments you feel like the Sun has disappeared forever. The rain comes, harder at some times than others. Then after a time, the rain stops, the thunder ends, and Sun returns. The effects on the Earth are immediately apparent. The grass has grown; the garden shows immediate signs of increased yield. The pond looks refreshed and clean. The air smells clean again, and we have all been refreshed and restored.
It’s raining today. It feels good.
It has been very hot and humid lately, only threatening to rain during the day with an occasional shower at night. Sometimes, I just feel like I need a rainy day. It relieves me of my “responsibilities” to work in the yard and be productive. It gives me a day off to relax and think.
We’ve had a lot to think about lately. My Dad discovered he had all five major arteries to his heart blocked anywhere from 90 to 100%. This caused damage to his mitral valve.
All week, I felt like it should be raining.
At 79 it could have been the end. But Dad is tough. He survived the South Pacific in WWII. This wasn’t going to bring him down.
One full week of tests and waiting for surgery culminated with 5 hours of surgery. It’s been almost two full days since the surgery was completed. He had a minor bout with his blood pressure, but in general he is cruising to a renewed life of energy and life.
We go though life thinking that “things” will always be the same. Then one day, something dramatic happens and you realize that anyone of us could experience anything at anytime that could change our patterns of life forever. This was one of those experiences. The thought of losing my Dad had me terrified.
I took inventory of all the things he has meant to me. He taught me how to fix things around the house. He taught me how to work. He taught me how to have a sense of humor. He taught me how to be a husband, and how to be a father. As he ages and talks more about his WWII experiences, he has taught me about bravery, sacrifice, honor, and faith. I doubt that he realizes this because he is not a man of ego.
As I visited him in the hospital yesterday, I told him he was my hero. He just smiled through his pain and looked a little embarrassed at the possibility that he could be a hero. But as I watched him face this difficult surgery and begin his recovery, he demonstrates once again just how tough he is. No complaints, just determination to get through it and not inconvenience anyone while he does.
It’s raining today. The sky is dark and there is the ominous sound of thunder. At some moments it is so dark it seems like the Sun is gone forever. The thunder is deafening and sounds treacherous. Finding out that you or a loved one is seriously ill is kind of like that. Everything sounds scary and treacherous. The world becomes tenuous. At moments you feel like the Sun has disappeared forever. The rain comes, harder at some times than others. Then after a time, the rain stops, the thunder ends, and Sun returns. The effects on the Earth are immediately apparent. The grass has grown; the garden shows immediate signs of increased yield. The pond looks refreshed and clean. The air smells clean again, and we have all been refreshed and restored.
It’s raining today. It feels good.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Check out my zucchini
The weather here has been perfect for the garden. Hot, humid, periods of rain. Consequently we are being overun by zucchini. In two days, we have harvested over 2 dozen. There are at least that many to be picked tomorrow and more coming up. We have already had zucchini omelets. Tonight we are frying zucchini sticks. The bread will start later this week. We are thinking zucchini parmesan... If you have any zucchini recipes send them our way before we are buried in them.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Water World
If you are wondering where I have been...
Check out my new backyard pond shown above.
This also explains my sore back.
Check out my new backyard pond shown above.
This also explains my sore back.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Where did everybody go?
About a week ago, a name from my youth popped into my head, and I wondered "whatever happened to Russ?" I went online and put his name into the smartpages search and nothing came up. I got busy with something else and didn't do any further research. Then two nights ago my wife and I walked into a local ice cream shop. As we moved away from the counter, Russ was standing there with his family. It's probably been more than 20 years since we last saw each other. I live in Ohio, he lives in Florida. He just happened to be visiting the area, and there we were...Buddies from high school both amazed at the chance meeting, and both looking "exactly the same" as we did back in '73.
Time is a strange science. Our memories stand still for us so that we can call upon them anytime. But time marches on. We leave high school graduation vowing to stay in touch. Then a lifetime later we run into each other by chance and wonder...where did it go? Why didn't we stay in touch.
The strangest part of this occurance with Russ, is that it is second time this has happened. Back in 1984 I found myself wondering what he was up to, then ran into him working in a retail store in New Philidelphia, Ohio a few days later.
I really think we are supposed to stay in touch, so through the miracle of email, I will do my best. If however for some reason we don't, Russ will live on in my memory banks to visit anytime, just like Steve, Kathy, Marty, Lee, Janet, Jeff, Dean, Mona, Loretta, Jill, Dan, Glen, Bill, Mark,Laurice, Bob, Alex, Lucy,Denise........
Do something cool for yourself... Make contact with an old friend that you haven't seen in a long time. It will refresh your soul.
Time is a strange science. Our memories stand still for us so that we can call upon them anytime. But time marches on. We leave high school graduation vowing to stay in touch. Then a lifetime later we run into each other by chance and wonder...where did it go? Why didn't we stay in touch.
The strangest part of this occurance with Russ, is that it is second time this has happened. Back in 1984 I found myself wondering what he was up to, then ran into him working in a retail store in New Philidelphia, Ohio a few days later.
I really think we are supposed to stay in touch, so through the miracle of email, I will do my best. If however for some reason we don't, Russ will live on in my memory banks to visit anytime, just like Steve, Kathy, Marty, Lee, Janet, Jeff, Dean, Mona, Loretta, Jill, Dan, Glen, Bill, Mark,Laurice, Bob, Alex, Lucy,Denise........
Do something cool for yourself... Make contact with an old friend that you haven't seen in a long time. It will refresh your soul.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Lives, Fortunes, and Honor
I am posting the Declaration of Independence. You might think I am trite and uncreative. Go ahead. The document gives you the right. You might think I am opinionated and overzelous in my patriotism. It's ok. The document gives you the right. As you read my previous posts, you might think I am over critical of the media. That's ok, the document gives me the right. I could go on but I think you get the point.
The Declaration of Independence gives us the right to be humans. Free to be who we are and who we were meant to be. It gives us the right to write, to speak, to have voice in the government of our country. It gives us the right to work, to be educated, to marry who we choose, to live where we want, to create wealth, to keep our wealth, to bear arms, to worship our God, and to be happy. It gives us these rights as long as we don't trample on the rights of others.
The Declaration of Independence is a remarkable document the we don't read often enough. The men who crafted it and had the courage to sign it, risked everything they had to do so. Many suffered great loss because of their defense of this document.
It's way too easy for us to forget why we celebrate various holidays. In the hustle and bustle of each we get focused on the celebration and not the cause of the celebration.
It is fourth of July weekend. Before you eat your hot dogs and drink too much beer, take a moment and read the Declaration. Be sure to read the names of each man who signed it. Reflect upon their gift to you. Give thanks for those who died to preserve it, and pray for those who are still fighting to defend it.
The Declaration of Independence of the Thirteen Colonies
In CONGRESS, July 4, 1776
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. —Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain [George III] is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.
The signers of the Declaration represented the new states as follows:
New Hampshire
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton
Massachusetts
John Hancock, Samual Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery
Connecticut
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott
New York
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris
New Jersey
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark
Pennsylvania
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross
Delaware
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean
Maryland
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton
North Carolina
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn
South Carolina
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton
Georgia
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton
The Declaration of Independence gives us the right to be humans. Free to be who we are and who we were meant to be. It gives us the right to write, to speak, to have voice in the government of our country. It gives us the right to work, to be educated, to marry who we choose, to live where we want, to create wealth, to keep our wealth, to bear arms, to worship our God, and to be happy. It gives us these rights as long as we don't trample on the rights of others.
The Declaration of Independence is a remarkable document the we don't read often enough. The men who crafted it and had the courage to sign it, risked everything they had to do so. Many suffered great loss because of their defense of this document.
It's way too easy for us to forget why we celebrate various holidays. In the hustle and bustle of each we get focused on the celebration and not the cause of the celebration.
It is fourth of July weekend. Before you eat your hot dogs and drink too much beer, take a moment and read the Declaration. Be sure to read the names of each man who signed it. Reflect upon their gift to you. Give thanks for those who died to preserve it, and pray for those who are still fighting to defend it.
The Declaration of Independence of the Thirteen Colonies
In CONGRESS, July 4, 1776
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. —Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain [George III] is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.
The signers of the Declaration represented the new states as follows:
New Hampshire
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton
Massachusetts
John Hancock, Samual Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery
Connecticut
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott
New York
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris
New Jersey
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark
Pennsylvania
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross
Delaware
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean
Maryland
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton
North Carolina
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn
South Carolina
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton
Georgia
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Friday, June 17, 2005
Pomp and Circumstance
It's graduation season. We know alot of people who are graduating from high school and college. In their honor, I am posting these words from Bill Gates...I couldn't have said it better myself;
11 rules for living:
Rule 1: life is not fair – get used to it!
Rule 2: The world won’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be vice-president with a car until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait ‘till you meet your boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for flipping burgers – they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault. So don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way by paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parents’ generation, try delousing the closet in your bedroom.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not. In some schools they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: TV is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are, you’ll end up working for one.
11 rules for living:
Rule 1: life is not fair – get used to it!
Rule 2: The world won’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be vice-president with a car until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait ‘till you meet your boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for flipping burgers – they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault. So don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way by paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parents’ generation, try delousing the closet in your bedroom.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not. In some schools they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: TV is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are, you’ll end up working for one.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Memorial Day
A day off work to picnic, party, swim, boat and celebrate summer…
I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s. It wasn’t a time to be patriotic. Our nation was involved in an “armed conflict” of questionable merit. It wasn’t like WWI or WWII. Even our troops weren’t sure why they were in Nam. I spent most of my teen years worried that my big brother would have to go over there. Then I spent my late teens worrying that I would have to go there. I was in the last draft lottery. I pulled a 27. If the draft hadn’t ended I would have been on my way.
Now that I am older and wiser, I am sometimes remorseful that I didn’t go. Even though the cause was unclear, I know now that it is important to serve and protect the interests of this great country. I have taken to reading about the civil war and WWII. It’s kind of weird to realize that the Civil War was really not that long ago. The last veteran of that war died within my lifetime (1958). WWII vets are still all around us, but their ranks are thinning. Now I watch The History Channel and see Vietnam Vets interviewed and they look old.
I think about my dad and my uncles serving in WWII. I think about friends of mine who served in Nam. I think about the kids of my friends who have served or are serving in the Mid-east. I remember the day I visited “The Wall”. I sat on the ground and cried. I cried out of grief for the 58,000 who died in Nam. I cried for the 600,000 who died on our own soil so that all could be free in this country. I cried for the WWI & II vets who never came back from places like Normandy, and Sarabachi. I cried for the Korean vets. I cried for those who did come home, but left part of their souls in those dark and dangerous places. After a time, I felt a sense of calm and peace. I realized I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by veterans and non-veterans all feeling the same wave of emotions. The calm and peace I felt was the souls of those departed telling me that they were alright, and that their sacrifice was not in vain. I gave thanks for their patriotism, commitment, bravery, and sacrifice.
I lowered my flag to half-staff this morning…I prayed that God would continue to bless this land, that God would protect this great country, and that God would comfort the families of those lost in battle to preserve our freedom, and that God would make his presence known to those who live with the haunting memories of war, and that God would grant eternal peace to those who died in service so that we might picnin, party, swim, boat and celebrate summer.
I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s. It wasn’t a time to be patriotic. Our nation was involved in an “armed conflict” of questionable merit. It wasn’t like WWI or WWII. Even our troops weren’t sure why they were in Nam. I spent most of my teen years worried that my big brother would have to go over there. Then I spent my late teens worrying that I would have to go there. I was in the last draft lottery. I pulled a 27. If the draft hadn’t ended I would have been on my way.
Now that I am older and wiser, I am sometimes remorseful that I didn’t go. Even though the cause was unclear, I know now that it is important to serve and protect the interests of this great country. I have taken to reading about the civil war and WWII. It’s kind of weird to realize that the Civil War was really not that long ago. The last veteran of that war died within my lifetime (1958). WWII vets are still all around us, but their ranks are thinning. Now I watch The History Channel and see Vietnam Vets interviewed and they look old.
I think about my dad and my uncles serving in WWII. I think about friends of mine who served in Nam. I think about the kids of my friends who have served or are serving in the Mid-east. I remember the day I visited “The Wall”. I sat on the ground and cried. I cried out of grief for the 58,000 who died in Nam. I cried for the 600,000 who died on our own soil so that all could be free in this country. I cried for the WWI & II vets who never came back from places like Normandy, and Sarabachi. I cried for the Korean vets. I cried for those who did come home, but left part of their souls in those dark and dangerous places. After a time, I felt a sense of calm and peace. I realized I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by veterans and non-veterans all feeling the same wave of emotions. The calm and peace I felt was the souls of those departed telling me that they were alright, and that their sacrifice was not in vain. I gave thanks for their patriotism, commitment, bravery, and sacrifice.
I lowered my flag to half-staff this morning…I prayed that God would continue to bless this land, that God would protect this great country, and that God would comfort the families of those lost in battle to preserve our freedom, and that God would make his presence known to those who live with the haunting memories of war, and that God would grant eternal peace to those who died in service so that we might picnin, party, swim, boat and celebrate summer.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles....
The wierdest thing happened yesterday...
I bought a new Ford Truck. I negotiated the whole deal online and over the phone. What was wierd was that when I went to pick it up, the deal didn't change. The dealer was not only helpful and honest but get this... they found me a better interest rate and the price/payment came down...not only that, they added in windshield breakage coverage and wheel/tire damage insurance AND gap insurance.
I have purchased a lot of cars in my life, I think this is the first time I have been treated with so much respect and honesty...
Congratulations Mullinax Ford in Amherst and specifically Pete Tobias ( internet sales guy ).
I bought a new Ford Truck. I negotiated the whole deal online and over the phone. What was wierd was that when I went to pick it up, the deal didn't change. The dealer was not only helpful and honest but get this... they found me a better interest rate and the price/payment came down...not only that, they added in windshield breakage coverage and wheel/tire damage insurance AND gap insurance.
I have purchased a lot of cars in my life, I think this is the first time I have been treated with so much respect and honesty...
Congratulations Mullinax Ford in Amherst and specifically Pete Tobias ( internet sales guy ).
Friday, May 20, 2005
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
A little help from your friends
Dear Wendy:
I am so sorry to hear about all the problems you are having ever since that nasty woman in California accused you of putting fingers in your salads. I know that you have lost a lot of sales because of this. I am so glad she was caught and I hope she is punished appropriately.
I am writing today in order to offer some assistance in rebuilding the Wendy’s business and reputation.
Since I do have a background in marketing and advertising I try to offer my services whenever possible to organizations like yours that are in the midst of a crisis. To that end, I have developed a creative promotional campaign that I believe will not only put you back on top of the salad dispensing world, but will allow you to turn this unfortunate incident into something that will get you free, positive media exposure…
Picture this… a simple ad campaign titled… “Wendy is giving you the finger”, or “I got the finger at Wendy’s”. Either one will work.
Now, here is the premise of the promotion. Since the finger was planted, and there never was a slip up on your part, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You should take advantage of the whole finger in the salad thing, by running a nationwide promotion in which you encourage people to buy a salad in the hopes of discovering a finger in their salad. (The finger would of course be plastic ). Any one finding a finger in their salad would automatically win a prize matched to the “finger print” on the finger. Since all the fingers would have to have a different print, you could encourage people to collect all the fingers of the same print. When they get an entire hand, they would get a free trip to Palm Springs! Of course for anyone to get a full hand you will have to throw in a thumb once in awhile. You could call this the “thumbs up winner! Perhaps just getting a thumb could get the recipient a one night stay on some roadside motel somewhere along Route 66. Other prizes could include free manicures and acrylic nails, “Isotoner” gloves, “Palm Pilots”, free chicken fingers at your restaurants…etc.
I can see people really getting excited about the whole thing. Wendy... you could end up on Letterman!
I would be happy to coordinate this effort with your existing ad agency. (Quite frankly, I am rather disappointed and surprised that they have not already thought of this. You might consider a new agency.) You may contact me through the email address listed below.
Finally, I recommend that you get going on this before Kohl’s Frozen Custard in North Carolina steals the idea. It has already been reported that a customer found a finger in his custard…It is only a matter of time. Damn, nobody has original thoughts anymore.
Your friend,
Jim
I am so sorry to hear about all the problems you are having ever since that nasty woman in California accused you of putting fingers in your salads. I know that you have lost a lot of sales because of this. I am so glad she was caught and I hope she is punished appropriately.
I am writing today in order to offer some assistance in rebuilding the Wendy’s business and reputation.
Since I do have a background in marketing and advertising I try to offer my services whenever possible to organizations like yours that are in the midst of a crisis. To that end, I have developed a creative promotional campaign that I believe will not only put you back on top of the salad dispensing world, but will allow you to turn this unfortunate incident into something that will get you free, positive media exposure…
Picture this… a simple ad campaign titled… “Wendy is giving you the finger”, or “I got the finger at Wendy’s”. Either one will work.
Now, here is the premise of the promotion. Since the finger was planted, and there never was a slip up on your part, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You should take advantage of the whole finger in the salad thing, by running a nationwide promotion in which you encourage people to buy a salad in the hopes of discovering a finger in their salad. (The finger would of course be plastic ). Any one finding a finger in their salad would automatically win a prize matched to the “finger print” on the finger. Since all the fingers would have to have a different print, you could encourage people to collect all the fingers of the same print. When they get an entire hand, they would get a free trip to Palm Springs! Of course for anyone to get a full hand you will have to throw in a thumb once in awhile. You could call this the “thumbs up winner! Perhaps just getting a thumb could get the recipient a one night stay on some roadside motel somewhere along Route 66. Other prizes could include free manicures and acrylic nails, “Isotoner” gloves, “Palm Pilots”, free chicken fingers at your restaurants…etc.
I can see people really getting excited about the whole thing. Wendy... you could end up on Letterman!
I would be happy to coordinate this effort with your existing ad agency. (Quite frankly, I am rather disappointed and surprised that they have not already thought of this. You might consider a new agency.) You may contact me through the email address listed below.
Finally, I recommend that you get going on this before Kohl’s Frozen Custard in North Carolina steals the idea. It has already been reported that a customer found a finger in his custard…It is only a matter of time. Damn, nobody has original thoughts anymore.
Your friend,
Jim
Monday, May 02, 2005
Big Fish
One of my favorite recent movies is “Big Fish”. If you aren’t familiar with it, it is about a young man’s perception of his father’s “fish stories”. I am especially fond of the movie because my kids never believe the stories I tell them about the things I have done and people I have met.
In a nutshell…A friend of mine and I saved Hal Holbrook from getting hit by a New York Taxi. I met privately with Bernadette Peters in her dressing room. I once drove Della Reese to an eastside Cleveland drug store at 2:00 in the morning. I partied with Martin Mull. I was on stage once with Bruce Springsteen (see my post from Dec. 15, ’04). I pushed jazz great; Woody Herman around in his wheelchair after his car accident. I helped create the original marketing plan for the soft-drink “Mello Yellow”. (That one really gets them going) I got into an argument with magician Harry Blackstone. I once told Liza Minelli’s manager to “shove-it” and got yelled at by Mickey Rooney and Jerry Lewis.
I won’t even get into how I may have saved President Bush…
Someday, when Variety Magazine reports: "J Zak Drps Ded", the kids will know, that I didn’t make this stuff up!
In a nutshell…A friend of mine and I saved Hal Holbrook from getting hit by a New York Taxi. I met privately with Bernadette Peters in her dressing room. I once drove Della Reese to an eastside Cleveland drug store at 2:00 in the morning. I partied with Martin Mull. I was on stage once with Bruce Springsteen (see my post from Dec. 15, ’04). I pushed jazz great; Woody Herman around in his wheelchair after his car accident. I helped create the original marketing plan for the soft-drink “Mello Yellow”. (That one really gets them going) I got into an argument with magician Harry Blackstone. I once told Liza Minelli’s manager to “shove-it” and got yelled at by Mickey Rooney and Jerry Lewis.
I won’t even get into how I may have saved President Bush…
Someday, when Variety Magazine reports: "J Zak Drps Ded", the kids will know, that I didn’t make this stuff up!
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Nothing happens without first, a dream
My wife and I ran into a friend of mine from my days with the Cleveland Opera. It was a chance meeting in the Orlando airport. The last time I saw Laura was about three years ago while I was escorting six Radio City Rockettes to a TV interview at a local station in Cleveland. Laura was the featured guest on the evening “soft” news hour. She had become an international opera star.
When we saw her at the airport she was on her way back to Cleveland from spending time with her vocal coach. It was great to spend time with her and learn about her career and the success she has had. We exchanged contact information and have already communicated by email.
What I found interesting is that when I first contacted her by email, I expressed my excitement and happiness at her success. When she responded, she thanked me and said that it was nice to have someone be genuinely happy for what she had accomplished. She went on to explain that not everyone was happy for her. I found that distressing. Distressing because she pointed out something about society that is really troubling…
In general, humans (especially in the U.S ) are negative about the success of others. The average person views the success of others as somehow taking away from their own opportunities. How sad. I wrote back to Laura and told her that I view the success of others as an indication that all is right with the world and that anyone/everyone can succeed in whatever endeavors, as long as they believe in themselves and are willing to work. Further, the average person stops dreaming about their own potential somewhere around 24 years of age. Just about the time that they get into the full-time work force. I believe the correlation is bad management and poor treatment of the workforce. I guess that is why entrepreneurs make more money than employees. If you don’t believe me, take a walk around the Bahia Mar Yacht Club in Fort Lauderdale and do what I did…ask the yacht owners what they do for a living. You will never hear the words; “ I work for…” You will instead hear the words “ I own…”
In a sense, my friend Laura is in business for herself. She owns and operates a one-person operation focused on providing exceptional soprano vocal services to the opera industry. She dreamed it could happen. She believed in herself. She surrounded herself with people who believed in her. She did not accept a world where the boss could make or break her. Today, she gets paid for doing something she truly loves; singing.
I am really proud to know Laura, and am really happy to have re-acquainted with her. She reminded me to dream.
When we saw her at the airport she was on her way back to Cleveland from spending time with her vocal coach. It was great to spend time with her and learn about her career and the success she has had. We exchanged contact information and have already communicated by email.
What I found interesting is that when I first contacted her by email, I expressed my excitement and happiness at her success. When she responded, she thanked me and said that it was nice to have someone be genuinely happy for what she had accomplished. She went on to explain that not everyone was happy for her. I found that distressing. Distressing because she pointed out something about society that is really troubling…
In general, humans (especially in the U.S ) are negative about the success of others. The average person views the success of others as somehow taking away from their own opportunities. How sad. I wrote back to Laura and told her that I view the success of others as an indication that all is right with the world and that anyone/everyone can succeed in whatever endeavors, as long as they believe in themselves and are willing to work. Further, the average person stops dreaming about their own potential somewhere around 24 years of age. Just about the time that they get into the full-time work force. I believe the correlation is bad management and poor treatment of the workforce. I guess that is why entrepreneurs make more money than employees. If you don’t believe me, take a walk around the Bahia Mar Yacht Club in Fort Lauderdale and do what I did…ask the yacht owners what they do for a living. You will never hear the words; “ I work for…” You will instead hear the words “ I own…”
In a sense, my friend Laura is in business for herself. She owns and operates a one-person operation focused on providing exceptional soprano vocal services to the opera industry. She dreamed it could happen. She believed in herself. She surrounded herself with people who believed in her. She did not accept a world where the boss could make or break her. Today, she gets paid for doing something she truly loves; singing.
I am really proud to know Laura, and am really happy to have re-acquainted with her. She reminded me to dream.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
We're back...
The bad news is that Letterman did not call. The good news is that we missed all the snow that fell in Cleveland this past weekend...
Spent Sunday at Epcot visiting the UK, Germany, Norway, Mexico, China, Japan, France, and Mars.
Spent Sunday at Epcot visiting the UK, Germany, Norway, Mexico, China, Japan, France, and Mars.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
I'm going to Disney World
Now that the new Pope has been chosen and it wasnt' me...Now that my taxes are filed...I have checked my email, my voice-mail, my snail mail, and the missed call directory on my cell phone, I am fairly certain that I have once again NOT received an invitation to dinner with the President... Now that "NYPD Blue" is off the air, I am certain that I am not getting that guest appearance...Now that "24" is finished taping for the season...I can safely take some time away from the computer, the phone, and the mail box.
I'm going to Disney World. I am only taking calls from David Letterman.
I'm going to Disney World. I am only taking calls from David Letterman.
Monday, April 18, 2005
End of round one...
Well, it is official. The first day of the conclave is over, and the smoke is black. Evidently, I have not yet been elected as the new Pope.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
St. Peter look out!
...Terry Schiavo, Pope John Paul II, and Frank Perdue all arrive at the pearly gates together... I hate to say this, but there are going to be some jokes about this...
Thursday, March 24, 2005
The worm turns
There was an article in today's paper reporting that mountain lions are migrating east. It is predicted that soon, they may be populating states like Ohio.
I can't wait for the day when mountain lions are roaming around our back yards. I will be especially interested in how the animal rights people who are currently protesting the culling of deer in Solon, will react.
I can't wait for the day when mountain lions are roaming around our back yards. I will be especially interested in how the animal rights people who are currently protesting the culling of deer in Solon, will react.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
The Blessings
My secretary was not the brightest crayon in the box. I was out with a client most of the day. Upon my return to the office I asked if anything was going on. Her common answer was; “A little of this, and a little of that.” I went into my office and began sorting through my phone messages. After about 15 minutes, my private line rang. It was my wife. She asked why I had not returned her earlier call. I explained that I had just returned to the office and hadn’t seen it. She went on to say, that she had called about 30 minutes ago, and really needed me to come home. She had left that message with my soon to be unemployed secretary. (This was pre-cell phone days.) It seems that she had sneezed, and her water broke. The twins were on their way. Without discussing her future, I informed my secretary that I was leaving to take my wife to the hospital…
Just a few months before we had been surprised to find out that we were expecting twins. From the time we first discussed marriage, we had debated; she wanted four children. I wanted one. On a cold December afternoon in 1983, we found out that God had other plans. The ultra-sound technician showed us the baby’s head, and "the other baby’s head". I don’t remember much else about that afternoon. I know that we had driven separately, and ended up forgetting one of the cars at the hospital.
Now it was March 22, 1984. The babies weren’t due for at least another month. Robin hadn’t been able to breath or move well for a few weeks, so the early delivery wasn’t a surprise, but it was a concern.
Stefanie came out first. Evidently she had broken her water. Most likely in an attempt to get away from her brother who was next in line. Stef looked like a small but full term baby. She had good color. Tim…he looked really premature. His skin was still kind of transparent. So it was really surprising when all of a sudden there was a commotion around Stefanie…she had stopped breathing. After a few scary moments, she started breathing on her own again, and my attention turned back to Tim. The doctor indicated that while Stef was a month premature, Tim was 2 months premature. Robin never heard him say that…it was four years later that she finally asked the doctor and he confirmed what I had been telling he all along.
They came home when both were over 4 pounds. It took them a long time to eat. Since they both ate at different times,I don’t think we slept for the first three months. After that, raising them was no different than raising single birth children. Just more expensive, and with no breaks!
Tim is about 6’ and around 210 lbs. Stef is 5’3”. If they are seated next to each other you can see the resemblance. Standing however, there is an obvious difference. Their personalities are vastly different as well.
When we found out we were having twins, we wondered if we were going to be able to cope. We wondered if we could be good parents to multiple children. We were kind of scared. I remember our friend Phyllis from church telling us that God chose us to be parents of twins because he knew we could handle it. She told us we were blessed.
Tim is spending his birthday at work. I am sure he will celebrate like most new 21 year olds celebrate. (Be careful T…) Stef is celebrating in Vegas…(Be really careful Stef…)
We’re really proud of both of them. The last 21 years went way too fast.
Phyllis passed away a few years ago. She was however right on. We were blessed.
Happy Birthday Tim and Stef.
Just a few months before we had been surprised to find out that we were expecting twins. From the time we first discussed marriage, we had debated; she wanted four children. I wanted one. On a cold December afternoon in 1983, we found out that God had other plans. The ultra-sound technician showed us the baby’s head, and "the other baby’s head". I don’t remember much else about that afternoon. I know that we had driven separately, and ended up forgetting one of the cars at the hospital.
Now it was March 22, 1984. The babies weren’t due for at least another month. Robin hadn’t been able to breath or move well for a few weeks, so the early delivery wasn’t a surprise, but it was a concern.
Stefanie came out first. Evidently she had broken her water. Most likely in an attempt to get away from her brother who was next in line. Stef looked like a small but full term baby. She had good color. Tim…he looked really premature. His skin was still kind of transparent. So it was really surprising when all of a sudden there was a commotion around Stefanie…she had stopped breathing. After a few scary moments, she started breathing on her own again, and my attention turned back to Tim. The doctor indicated that while Stef was a month premature, Tim was 2 months premature. Robin never heard him say that…it was four years later that she finally asked the doctor and he confirmed what I had been telling he all along.
They came home when both were over 4 pounds. It took them a long time to eat. Since they both ate at different times,I don’t think we slept for the first three months. After that, raising them was no different than raising single birth children. Just more expensive, and with no breaks!
Tim is about 6’ and around 210 lbs. Stef is 5’3”. If they are seated next to each other you can see the resemblance. Standing however, there is an obvious difference. Their personalities are vastly different as well.
When we found out we were having twins, we wondered if we were going to be able to cope. We wondered if we could be good parents to multiple children. We were kind of scared. I remember our friend Phyllis from church telling us that God chose us to be parents of twins because he knew we could handle it. She told us we were blessed.
Tim is spending his birthday at work. I am sure he will celebrate like most new 21 year olds celebrate. (Be careful T…) Stef is celebrating in Vegas…(Be really careful Stef…)
We’re really proud of both of them. The last 21 years went way too fast.
Phyllis passed away a few years ago. She was however right on. We were blessed.
Happy Birthday Tim and Stef.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Perfect
You never know what to expect on a domestic violence call, or what might jump off. We rolled up in front of a house that was worth somewhere around half a mil. There was a Hummer in the drive and a BIG BMW in the garage. The house was decorated beautifully, and nothing was out of place…except the residents. The husband was threatening to beat his wife to death. She called 911 from a downstairs bathroom, while he retreated to the upstairs bedroom to feign innocence. Their 20-year old son, sat on the couch indifferently watching “Gladiator” on TBS.
Outside the house, the neighborhood probably thought these folks had it all together. Beautiful home, nice cars, good looking people… who wouldn’t want their perfect life?
At the end of the shift, he was in jail. She was filing her formal complaint.
I drove home in my 3-year old Impala, parked in the garage of my still mortgaged home, and gave thanks for my perfect wife, my perfect kids, and my perfect life.
Outside the house, the neighborhood probably thought these folks had it all together. Beautiful home, nice cars, good looking people… who wouldn’t want their perfect life?
At the end of the shift, he was in jail. She was filing her formal complaint.
I drove home in my 3-year old Impala, parked in the garage of my still mortgaged home, and gave thanks for my perfect wife, my perfect kids, and my perfect life.
What a difference a day makes... or does it?
Two of our kids are turning 21 years old this week. ( Yes, twins. More about that in a later post )
On Sunday ( yesterday ) we planned on having a birthday celebration dinner with them. Our family tradition is of course to have them plan the menu. Since they are twins, they split the decision. One was to choose the type of cake, the other was to choose the entrée’.
Tim chose the cake; banana with chocolate icing. He made that decision very quickly. Stef spent several days choosing the entrée’ It went from grilled hot dogs, to Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. In the 11th hour it became chicken fingers, asparagus, and cheesy potatoes.
That’s 21 years old. It is neither hot dogs, or Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. It ends up being chicken fingers and cheesy potatoes; Too old to be allowed “childish” errors, yet too young to always make the right decisions.
Yesterday, you couldn’t legally consume an alcoholic drink without dire consequence because you weren’t old enough to be responsible. Today you are totally responsible.
What an amazing 24 hours.
On Sunday ( yesterday ) we planned on having a birthday celebration dinner with them. Our family tradition is of course to have them plan the menu. Since they are twins, they split the decision. One was to choose the type of cake, the other was to choose the entrée’.
Tim chose the cake; banana with chocolate icing. He made that decision very quickly. Stef spent several days choosing the entrée’ It went from grilled hot dogs, to Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. In the 11th hour it became chicken fingers, asparagus, and cheesy potatoes.
That’s 21 years old. It is neither hot dogs, or Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. It ends up being chicken fingers and cheesy potatoes; Too old to be allowed “childish” errors, yet too young to always make the right decisions.
Yesterday, you couldn’t legally consume an alcoholic drink without dire consequence because you weren’t old enough to be responsible. Today you are totally responsible.
What an amazing 24 hours.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
St. Patrick is rolling in his grave...
I find it fascinating that for 364 days a year, the media, and most governmental officials spend volumes of time and countless dollars discouraging excessive drinking. Then on March 17, those same individuals are on TV/Radio joining in the excessive drinking that occurs on this day.
A day that is supposed to be a religious celebration of the introduction of Christianity to Ireland. How did this become a day where it is OK to be a drunken ass?
A day that is supposed to be a religious celebration of the introduction of Christianity to Ireland. How did this become a day where it is OK to be a drunken ass?
Saturday, March 12, 2005
"The man who came in with a cold...
I went to a trade show on Weds. of this week. Hundreds of people crammed into too small a space, pretending to be nice to each other in order to get business. Everybody shaking hands and passing out materials and logo emblazoned trinkets.
All I got out of it was a cold.
All I got out of it was a cold.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Oh "Deer"...
There has been an uproar lately in the local media about the City of Solon, Ohio, and their “deer culling” program. Like most cities in N.E. Ohio, the area is overrun with an uncontrolled deer population. Across the area there are literally thousands of car vs deer accidents occurring each year. Some local governments are attempting to correct a problem that they created years ago when they banned deer hunting, and allowed developers to build homes and businesses on every square inch of available land. Now the deer have no where to go except grandmas garden and I-271. So the city fathers of Solon and other ‘burbs” have decided to hire sharp-shooters to cull the deer population.
I don’t have a problem with this. I do have a problem with the morons who are interviewed on the local news whining about how cruel it is to shoot the deer. They bemoan their fears of their children being mistaken for deer and shot to death in their beds by the hired guns. They cry in fear for their horses that might also be mistaken for deer. After all, the sharpshooters are just bloodthirsty cave dwellers who only want to pull the trigger. They have no intelligence or ability to distinguish deer from any other warm target.
Give me a break. I could only hope that the sharpshooters might take aim on a couple of these idiots who are also the first to complain when the deer run out in front of them on the road, or destroy their flower beds, or jump through their front windows.
Don’t get me wrong, I think deer are beautiful. I love to watch them feeding in the fields. It is still a thrill to see them crossing through my yard, or playing with each other in a meadow. I’m not a hunter. I don’t know if I could pull the trigger on one. But I see the need to “cull the herd” because overpopulation can be dangerous to humans and to the deer themselves.
Now, we go to Independence, Ohio…that city is attempting to prosecute a man for feeding the deer. It seems that Independence has a law against “putting out animal feed in proximity to private property”. His neighbors have complained so he faces criminal charges.
The bottom line is there is no bottom line…shoot them, don’t feed them, don’t hit them with cars, or don’t shoot them, keep feeding them, hit them with cars. Keep cutting down the trees, paving the meadows, and building homes where the deer used to live, or stop taking their homes. Man has created quite a conundrum. ( I love that word, and I’m glad I finally found a forum in which to use it.)
I do have a solution to give us some relief from the topic… Let’s enact legislation making it a felony for any media type to interview anyone else from Solon.
I don’t have a problem with this. I do have a problem with the morons who are interviewed on the local news whining about how cruel it is to shoot the deer. They bemoan their fears of their children being mistaken for deer and shot to death in their beds by the hired guns. They cry in fear for their horses that might also be mistaken for deer. After all, the sharpshooters are just bloodthirsty cave dwellers who only want to pull the trigger. They have no intelligence or ability to distinguish deer from any other warm target.
Give me a break. I could only hope that the sharpshooters might take aim on a couple of these idiots who are also the first to complain when the deer run out in front of them on the road, or destroy their flower beds, or jump through their front windows.
Don’t get me wrong, I think deer are beautiful. I love to watch them feeding in the fields. It is still a thrill to see them crossing through my yard, or playing with each other in a meadow. I’m not a hunter. I don’t know if I could pull the trigger on one. But I see the need to “cull the herd” because overpopulation can be dangerous to humans and to the deer themselves.
Now, we go to Independence, Ohio…that city is attempting to prosecute a man for feeding the deer. It seems that Independence has a law against “putting out animal feed in proximity to private property”. His neighbors have complained so he faces criminal charges.
The bottom line is there is no bottom line…shoot them, don’t feed them, don’t hit them with cars, or don’t shoot them, keep feeding them, hit them with cars. Keep cutting down the trees, paving the meadows, and building homes where the deer used to live, or stop taking their homes. Man has created quite a conundrum. ( I love that word, and I’m glad I finally found a forum in which to use it.)
I do have a solution to give us some relief from the topic… Let’s enact legislation making it a felony for any media type to interview anyone else from Solon.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
All the news, that's fit to ignore..
Well, here we go again…the TV News reported last night, that there is a serious potential danger that your cell phone might blow up. Of course by the time the story was over, they revealed that there have only been 115 instances in the last three years nationwide. Of course each of those instances had to do with mitigating circumstances, like the user shorting out the battery connections, a faulty charger shorting out, or the user leaving the phone on the stove. Of course, the news reporters conducted their own tests. They were able to cause several cell phones to short out. Oh, did I mention that this was only after they removed the safeguards from the battery, placed it on a hot stove, or purposely shorted out the battery terminals.
What is going on with TV News and the cell phone industry? First it was unfounded accusations that using cell phones would cause brain damage. When that didn’t work the media attempted to create a panic insinuating that cell phone usage is a leading cause of traffic crashes. That has petered out, so now they want you to believe that your cell phone might explode for no apparent reason.
I may be oversimplifying things, but I tend to look at the world through my own experiences…
I have been using cell phones since their inception in the early 80’s. I have never had an accident because of my cell phone. You might disagree, but I have not yet suffered any brain damage. My cell phone has never spontaneously combusted.
I don’t know anyone with brain damage from cell phone use. I know plenty of people with “brain damage” from watching TV News. In 14 years of experience ( although limited ) in law enforcement, I have NEVER worked an accident scene where the cause was attributed to cell phone use. I don’t know anyone who has been in an accident because they were on their cell phone. I do know people who have had accidents because they were applying make-up, changing a CD, reading the paper, or just driving with their head up their butts. I don’t know anyone who has had their phone catch on fire, or explode.
Part of me wishes that cell phones could easily explode. In fact, I wish there were a trigger mechanism that I could control remotely…Because I happen to know that virtually every TV News Reporter carries a cell phone…
What is going on with TV News and the cell phone industry? First it was unfounded accusations that using cell phones would cause brain damage. When that didn’t work the media attempted to create a panic insinuating that cell phone usage is a leading cause of traffic crashes. That has petered out, so now they want you to believe that your cell phone might explode for no apparent reason.
I may be oversimplifying things, but I tend to look at the world through my own experiences…
I have been using cell phones since their inception in the early 80’s. I have never had an accident because of my cell phone. You might disagree, but I have not yet suffered any brain damage. My cell phone has never spontaneously combusted.
I don’t know anyone with brain damage from cell phone use. I know plenty of people with “brain damage” from watching TV News. In 14 years of experience ( although limited ) in law enforcement, I have NEVER worked an accident scene where the cause was attributed to cell phone use. I don’t know anyone who has been in an accident because they were on their cell phone. I do know people who have had accidents because they were applying make-up, changing a CD, reading the paper, or just driving with their head up their butts. I don’t know anyone who has had their phone catch on fire, or explode.
Part of me wishes that cell phones could easily explode. In fact, I wish there were a trigger mechanism that I could control remotely…Because I happen to know that virtually every TV News Reporter carries a cell phone…
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Loyalty
I had lunch with an old friend today. This is a guy who started out as a business acquaintance, but over time became a buddy. I think one of the reasons for our friendship is that we are both “high D” personality types that relate on many levels and have the same work ethics. More importantly, he understands and appreciates loyalty.
When I left my career two years ago, I discovered many people who had appeared to be friends, were merely using me for the connection to my company. I found this out, when they stopped calling me, and/or stopped returning my calls when I was no longer in a position to give them business, or provide them with show tickets. I guess I shouldn’t have been so naïve’.
My friend Mark, on the other hand continued to help me network and he hired me on for some special projects. He appreciated me for my talent and ability. More importantly, he kept in touch with me when all I had to offer was friendship.
On my way to meet Mark for lunch, I received a call from another business acquaintance. I will spare you the details, but this guy wouldn’t know loyalty if it bit him, and he proved it today.
When it all jumps off, life and business are about integrity, honesty, ethics, and loyalty. Without those attributes you get Enron.
Mark will probably read this. I didn’t necessarily write this for him to read. But I’m glad he will, because people should know they are appreciated. Loyalty deserves honor.
When I left my career two years ago, I discovered many people who had appeared to be friends, were merely using me for the connection to my company. I found this out, when they stopped calling me, and/or stopped returning my calls when I was no longer in a position to give them business, or provide them with show tickets. I guess I shouldn’t have been so naïve’.
My friend Mark, on the other hand continued to help me network and he hired me on for some special projects. He appreciated me for my talent and ability. More importantly, he kept in touch with me when all I had to offer was friendship.
On my way to meet Mark for lunch, I received a call from another business acquaintance. I will spare you the details, but this guy wouldn’t know loyalty if it bit him, and he proved it today.
When it all jumps off, life and business are about integrity, honesty, ethics, and loyalty. Without those attributes you get Enron.
Mark will probably read this. I didn’t necessarily write this for him to read. But I’m glad he will, because people should know they are appreciated. Loyalty deserves honor.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
A "chance" meeting
She was 12. He was 13. He watched her from across the street and wished he had the guts to cross over and introduce himself. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Unbelievably, she was the exact person he had seen in a dream when he was ten years old. Now, she was within 30 feet of him.
From the next block he could see his best buddy walking toward him. As his friend approached, he said; “you see that girl over there, I know her… you want to meet her? The boy could hardly believe his ears. Before he could answer, his friend has already called to her. He crossed the street and began talking to her. The boy crossed over and waited until his friend would make the introduction. Finally, it happened. They were formally introduced, the boys buddy then took off to do something else.
The boy and the girl began talking and walking. He learned that she was a minister’s daughter. She was in this resort town with her grandparents and would be leaving in just a few hours. They walked together for a while until they arrived at her grandparent’s summer trailer. It wasn’t more than 10 minutes before she had to leave. He didn’t think to get her phone number. As quickly as she came into his young life, she was quickly gone…
It was summer. Three years had past since he met her. He thought about her all the time. At sixteen, he had dated other girls, but he always wondered about the girl he met at Lakeside. He and his best friend were once again roaming the streets of the resort town. They checked out all the girls that walked past them. They knew they would meet someone this week.
He looked down the street to the spot where he had met her three years ago. In that spot were two girls. One of them was her. Before he could say or do anything, his friend was crossing the street calling to her. Before he knew what was happening, his friend made contact and quickly began cementing his relationship with her. He was introduced to her friend, and the four of them were off making plans for the rest of the week.
They hung out for a couple days…he kept thinking that the pairing was incorrect, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She seemed happy with his friend. It was only a week. She probably wouldn’t be interested in him anyhow…after all, she didn’t even remember meeting him three years before…
Parents are perceptive beyond the comprehension of their children...
Late in the week his parents arrived at the resort. They were introduced to both of the girls. His father immediately took him aside and said; “Son, you are with the wrong girl.” He replied, "I know."
...Eight months had gone by since he saw her last. As far as he knew, his friend and her were still dating. Finally one day, he inquired of his friend as to the status of the relationship…”We didn’t have much in common…I haven’t seen her in three months.” It was the reply he had hoped for but didn’t expect.
He called her that night. They spoke on the phone for about an hour and a half. He asked her if he could see her. She said yes.
He was 17. She was 16. It was 1972. They’ve been together ever since.
HER birthday is February 6. He celebrates the day as the most significant day of HIS life.
From the next block he could see his best buddy walking toward him. As his friend approached, he said; “you see that girl over there, I know her… you want to meet her? The boy could hardly believe his ears. Before he could answer, his friend has already called to her. He crossed the street and began talking to her. The boy crossed over and waited until his friend would make the introduction. Finally, it happened. They were formally introduced, the boys buddy then took off to do something else.
The boy and the girl began talking and walking. He learned that she was a minister’s daughter. She was in this resort town with her grandparents and would be leaving in just a few hours. They walked together for a while until they arrived at her grandparent’s summer trailer. It wasn’t more than 10 minutes before she had to leave. He didn’t think to get her phone number. As quickly as she came into his young life, she was quickly gone…
It was summer. Three years had past since he met her. He thought about her all the time. At sixteen, he had dated other girls, but he always wondered about the girl he met at Lakeside. He and his best friend were once again roaming the streets of the resort town. They checked out all the girls that walked past them. They knew they would meet someone this week.
He looked down the street to the spot where he had met her three years ago. In that spot were two girls. One of them was her. Before he could say or do anything, his friend was crossing the street calling to her. Before he knew what was happening, his friend made contact and quickly began cementing his relationship with her. He was introduced to her friend, and the four of them were off making plans for the rest of the week.
They hung out for a couple days…he kept thinking that the pairing was incorrect, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She seemed happy with his friend. It was only a week. She probably wouldn’t be interested in him anyhow…after all, she didn’t even remember meeting him three years before…
Parents are perceptive beyond the comprehension of their children...
Late in the week his parents arrived at the resort. They were introduced to both of the girls. His father immediately took him aside and said; “Son, you are with the wrong girl.” He replied, "I know."
...Eight months had gone by since he saw her last. As far as he knew, his friend and her were still dating. Finally one day, he inquired of his friend as to the status of the relationship…”We didn’t have much in common…I haven’t seen her in three months.” It was the reply he had hoped for but didn’t expect.
He called her that night. They spoke on the phone for about an hour and a half. He asked her if he could see her. She said yes.
He was 17. She was 16. It was 1972. They’ve been together ever since.
HER birthday is February 6. He celebrates the day as the most significant day of HIS life.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
It's a mad, mad world
About an hour before the State Of The Union Address I saw a commercial on TV that referred to "The SuperBowl" as "America's Unofficial Holiday". I immediately thought back to an item that ran in "Mad Magazine" several years ago...
It was right after the concept of the "SuperBowl" was introduced. "Mad" ran an item depicting "SuperBowl Sunday" in the future. It showed a ridiculous scene of special sales at department stores, TV specials, closed businesses, parades in major cities, people hosting/attending "SuperBowl" parties and special activities. They showed churches holding abbreviated services and/or canceling services. Newspapers and magazines were ablaze with headlines about "The SuperBowl". TV and Radio news programs were monopolized by "SuperBowl" features. The country was totally transfixed and focused on "The SuperBowl".
I remember reading the magazine feature and laughing hysterically. I remember sharing the lunacy with family and friends. The writers at "Mad" were really over the top.
It was right after the concept of the "SuperBowl" was introduced. "Mad" ran an item depicting "SuperBowl Sunday" in the future. It showed a ridiculous scene of special sales at department stores, TV specials, closed businesses, parades in major cities, people hosting/attending "SuperBowl" parties and special activities. They showed churches holding abbreviated services and/or canceling services. Newspapers and magazines were ablaze with headlines about "The SuperBowl". TV and Radio news programs were monopolized by "SuperBowl" features. The country was totally transfixed and focused on "The SuperBowl".
I remember reading the magazine feature and laughing hysterically. I remember sharing the lunacy with family and friends. The writers at "Mad" were really over the top.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Paper or plastic?
So once again, "the religious right" has determined that a cartoon character is promoting the gay lifestyle.
First, let me say, that I am religious. I am a Christian. I am also fairly conservative.
Having said that, I would like to make it clear that I believe those who label themselves as the "religious right" are usually neither.
Most who consider themselves the "RR" would say that they have been saved by Jesus, his teachings and his passion. Therein lies the challenge. I have not found anywhere in the New Testament ( which is the inspired word of God, testifying to the teachings of Jesus, Christ) any evidence that Jesus would have shunned gays. In fact, he taught us to love one another, even our enemies and those with whom we differ.
Without getting into that discussion any deeper however, allow me to continue with my original topic...
Dr. James Dobson; head of "Focus on the Family" has determined that "Sponge Bob Square Pants" is most likely gay, and is promoting gay lifestyle to our children. "Bob has now joined the ranks of "Bert and Ernie", and the little purple Teletubby." Wake up Dr. Jim, Sponge Bob and the others are either cartoon characters or puppets.
The real problem facing this country is much worse. It has been with us for over forty years with virtually no attention from the "RR". Only God knows how much damage has been done to children over the years because of it. I refer of course to "Barbie".
"Barbie" and her friend "Ken" have cohabitated in thousands of toyboxes across America without the benefit of marriage. They have spent time alone together in "Barbies Dream House". They have travelled together in "Barbies RV". I am told that on occassion they have been found in the back of "Barbies Corvette". Over the years, I have even caught them naked in my own swimming pool.
Having said all of this, I am not suggesting that Barbie and Ken have had illicit sex. In fact, the problem runs much deeper... Ken and Barbie are both androgenous. What does this teach our children...Are we as a society so sick and twisted that we have allowed our children for muliple generations to be exposed to, and associate with such strange and abnormal individuals. What damage has been done to us? What damage has been done to our children? We have allowed "Barbie and Ken" to promote androgenous lifestyle.
One must ask, what sick and twisted behavior must these two be guilty of? With no sex organs, they have obviously found some other form of deviant gratification to satisfy their carnal instincts. I shudder to imagine. And yet, Dr. Dobson, Jerry Falwell and others have allowed this insidious behavior to continue without comment.
Wake up boys, you are missing a headline.
First, let me say, that I am religious. I am a Christian. I am also fairly conservative.
Having said that, I would like to make it clear that I believe those who label themselves as the "religious right" are usually neither.
Most who consider themselves the "RR" would say that they have been saved by Jesus, his teachings and his passion. Therein lies the challenge. I have not found anywhere in the New Testament ( which is the inspired word of God, testifying to the teachings of Jesus, Christ) any evidence that Jesus would have shunned gays. In fact, he taught us to love one another, even our enemies and those with whom we differ.
Without getting into that discussion any deeper however, allow me to continue with my original topic...
Dr. James Dobson; head of "Focus on the Family" has determined that "Sponge Bob Square Pants" is most likely gay, and is promoting gay lifestyle to our children. "Bob has now joined the ranks of "Bert and Ernie", and the little purple Teletubby." Wake up Dr. Jim, Sponge Bob and the others are either cartoon characters or puppets.
The real problem facing this country is much worse. It has been with us for over forty years with virtually no attention from the "RR". Only God knows how much damage has been done to children over the years because of it. I refer of course to "Barbie".
"Barbie" and her friend "Ken" have cohabitated in thousands of toyboxes across America without the benefit of marriage. They have spent time alone together in "Barbies Dream House". They have travelled together in "Barbies RV". I am told that on occassion they have been found in the back of "Barbies Corvette". Over the years, I have even caught them naked in my own swimming pool.
Having said all of this, I am not suggesting that Barbie and Ken have had illicit sex. In fact, the problem runs much deeper... Ken and Barbie are both androgenous. What does this teach our children...Are we as a society so sick and twisted that we have allowed our children for muliple generations to be exposed to, and associate with such strange and abnormal individuals. What damage has been done to us? What damage has been done to our children? We have allowed "Barbie and Ken" to promote androgenous lifestyle.
One must ask, what sick and twisted behavior must these two be guilty of? With no sex organs, they have obviously found some other form of deviant gratification to satisfy their carnal instincts. I shudder to imagine. And yet, Dr. Dobson, Jerry Falwell and others have allowed this insidious behavior to continue without comment.
Wake up boys, you are missing a headline.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
I, the jury
Last year at this time, I was serving on jury duty. On the first day, upon our arrival we were directed to a long hallway to register. At the end of the hallway was a service counter with two service areas. Above each area was a sign. One sign said; “A through M”, the other sign said; “N through Z”. As we were waiting in our designated lines, a woman entered the area, looked up at the signs and asked me; “What those signs A through M and N through Z mean? I asked her what her last name was, she replied; “Smith”. I told her to get into the line marked; “A through M”. That was just my way of being helpful. How would you like to have her on YOUR jury.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
American Idol
Another season of "American Idol" has begun. Once again people all across the country will gather at the water coolers of American businesses to discuss the relative talents of several talentless fools who hope to become the next "Idol".
Night after night, the TV news devotes several minutes of airtime to discussing the performance of sports teams and players. Many will be held up as "heroes" and people to be idolized. Many of those will turn out to be drug users, adulterors, and sometimes murderers. ( if the glove fits...)
The Grammy's the Emmy's, American Music Awards, the list goes on and on. We are obsessed with idolizing actors, music stars, sports figures, and TV stars. Wby? because they live lifestyles that most can only dream of. In our country oppulent lifestyle is something to dream about and idolize others for. Believe it or not, this is still the land of opportunity and anyone...no, everyone has the same opportunity to rise to the level of their dreams, if only they dare too. That however is not the purpose of this post...
I spent yesterday riding along with and observing a team of people that have devoted their careers to truly serving others. They are the doctors, nurses, and pilots of MetroHealth Centers' Lifeflight. I had a chance to fly with them, and see first hand how they think and perform.
As we flew I observed their compassion and committment. I observed the compassion of the doctors and nurses on the ground.
When we had a break, I went up to the seventh floor of Metro, where my wife is a nurse. It was the first time I had a chance to see where she works. She is on a trauma floor. Her patients usually earn their 15 minutes of fame on the 11:00 news. They are usually not the cream of society. She and her collegues put up with a lot of crap as they tend to the care and healing of these people. Some of her patients are there due to accidents. Many are there due to violence; shot, or stabbed. Some of her patients are average everyday good people caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Regardless of who they are, or how they got there, they get the same treatment.
Like most of society, the patients that are transported by Lifeflight, or who are cared for by people like my wife, will watch American Idol, The Superbowl, The World Series, The Emmy Awards and so on... They are looking for heroes. They are looking in the wrong places.
I found my hero...She works on 7B at MetroHealth Center.
Night after night, the TV news devotes several minutes of airtime to discussing the performance of sports teams and players. Many will be held up as "heroes" and people to be idolized. Many of those will turn out to be drug users, adulterors, and sometimes murderers. ( if the glove fits...)
The Grammy's the Emmy's, American Music Awards, the list goes on and on. We are obsessed with idolizing actors, music stars, sports figures, and TV stars. Wby? because they live lifestyles that most can only dream of. In our country oppulent lifestyle is something to dream about and idolize others for. Believe it or not, this is still the land of opportunity and anyone...no, everyone has the same opportunity to rise to the level of their dreams, if only they dare too. That however is not the purpose of this post...
I spent yesterday riding along with and observing a team of people that have devoted their careers to truly serving others. They are the doctors, nurses, and pilots of MetroHealth Centers' Lifeflight. I had a chance to fly with them, and see first hand how they think and perform.
As we flew I observed their compassion and committment. I observed the compassion of the doctors and nurses on the ground.
When we had a break, I went up to the seventh floor of Metro, where my wife is a nurse. It was the first time I had a chance to see where she works. She is on a trauma floor. Her patients usually earn their 15 minutes of fame on the 11:00 news. They are usually not the cream of society. She and her collegues put up with a lot of crap as they tend to the care and healing of these people. Some of her patients are there due to accidents. Many are there due to violence; shot, or stabbed. Some of her patients are average everyday good people caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Regardless of who they are, or how they got there, they get the same treatment.
Like most of society, the patients that are transported by Lifeflight, or who are cared for by people like my wife, will watch American Idol, The Superbowl, The World Series, The Emmy Awards and so on... They are looking for heroes. They are looking in the wrong places.
I found my hero...She works on 7B at MetroHealth Center.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Why not?
I thought it would be fun to pay the turnpike toll for the stranger behind me the other day. The tollbooth operator wouldn’t let me do it. Go figure.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
In Blue (part three)
The first shot hit his right wrist. His gun dropped to the ground as the second shot hit his right forearm. He took cover behind his vehicle and retrieved his gun with his left hand. As he returned fire, the third shot hit him in the left arm. His gun once again fell to the ground as shot 4 hit him dead center at the heart. Shot 5 went through his badge. He collapsed into his car, and in his last conscious moment, spoke into the radio, “419 to radio…I’m hit…” He could hear the van speeding away, he could hear the sirens, screeching brakes, and whining engines of his backup. He thought…”the Viet-cong didn’t get me…shit…” and then he blacked out.
The ER staff was startled by the alert tones coming from the squad at the scene…”We have a 42 year old white male with multiple GSW to the arms and upper torso… He is semi-conscious with a weakening pulse and even breath sounds. ETA 2 minutes.”
As the trauma team cut his uniform off, they saw first hand the value of a ballistic vest. The shots to the arms were devastating but this officer will see his kids grow up. The shot to the heart felt like a baseball bat to the chest. It would leave an appropriate bruise and some broken ribs. The shot through the badge…left a burn…congressmen who lobbied for bullet proof vests for all police officers would call in the coming days and ask if he would speak in support of their upcoming campaigns. The Chief made a couple of token visits. The Mayor came by once. His arms would need extensive surgery and rehab. He would need months of counseling. His wife and kids would need months of counseling. His fellow officers would take extra care in wearing their vests. His service record was hailed in the media and he was called a hero by the local news.
The suspect was caught one week after the shooting hiding in the attic of a home in the southwest projects. He apologized in court and got 15 years. It took 18 months for the officer to recover. On his fourth day back to work…he was chasing a blue Cadillac down the interstate…
The ER staff was startled by the alert tones coming from the squad at the scene…”We have a 42 year old white male with multiple GSW to the arms and upper torso… He is semi-conscious with a weakening pulse and even breath sounds. ETA 2 minutes.”
As the trauma team cut his uniform off, they saw first hand the value of a ballistic vest. The shots to the arms were devastating but this officer will see his kids grow up. The shot to the heart felt like a baseball bat to the chest. It would leave an appropriate bruise and some broken ribs. The shot through the badge…left a burn…congressmen who lobbied for bullet proof vests for all police officers would call in the coming days and ask if he would speak in support of their upcoming campaigns. The Chief made a couple of token visits. The Mayor came by once. His arms would need extensive surgery and rehab. He would need months of counseling. His wife and kids would need months of counseling. His fellow officers would take extra care in wearing their vests. His service record was hailed in the media and he was called a hero by the local news.
The suspect was caught one week after the shooting hiding in the attic of a home in the southwest projects. He apologized in court and got 15 years. It took 18 months for the officer to recover. On his fourth day back to work…he was chasing a blue Cadillac down the interstate…
Monday, January 10, 2005
In Blue ( part two )
The trip back to the station took about 20 minutes. In his mind however, it took about 18 months…
He remembered the first radio transmission: “All Midtown units, an armed robbery has just occurred at the Signature Inn, Interstate and Prospect Street. Suspect is a black male, approximately 5’10” wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans and a blue stocking cap. He showed a blue 9mm, was last seen north bound on the interstate in a white Ford Van, no plate given. “ He had heard this transmission in his mind over and over again, so many times, that he could recite it in his sleep… He didn’t have time to write any of it down, he had already spotted the van and was within 5 car lengths of it. “419 to radio, I have that vehicle in sight, we are north bound on the interstate… “ The dispatcher was calm and collected as she advised the other units and surrounding communities that “One of (her) officers was in pursuit of a robbery suspect, North bound on the interstate, the suspect is armed with a 9mm and traveling in a white Ford van. “ The nearest units were still over two miles away and the gap was widening as the suspect increased his speed.
He thought to himself… in another mile, I will be out of radio range…Against his better judgment, he flipped the switch that would illuminate his light bar and turn on the take down lights. Expecting a chase, he tugged on his seat belt. He advised the radio that he was in hot pursuit, and would be switching to a statewide frequency. As the radio responded… as his back up advised of their ETA… the van suddenly pulled over.
Cars were zipping past. Wind created by the passing trucks was causing the patrol car to shake, and adrenalin took the place of thought… He aimed his spotlight on the van, he opened his car door, and stayed behind it as he exited the vehicle…at the same instant, the suspect exited his van. Without even aiming…he squeezed the trigger as quickly as he could. Approaching sirens grew louder as the bullets flew toward their intended target…
He remembered the first radio transmission: “All Midtown units, an armed robbery has just occurred at the Signature Inn, Interstate and Prospect Street. Suspect is a black male, approximately 5’10” wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans and a blue stocking cap. He showed a blue 9mm, was last seen north bound on the interstate in a white Ford Van, no plate given. “ He had heard this transmission in his mind over and over again, so many times, that he could recite it in his sleep… He didn’t have time to write any of it down, he had already spotted the van and was within 5 car lengths of it. “419 to radio, I have that vehicle in sight, we are north bound on the interstate… “ The dispatcher was calm and collected as she advised the other units and surrounding communities that “One of (her) officers was in pursuit of a robbery suspect, North bound on the interstate, the suspect is armed with a 9mm and traveling in a white Ford van. “ The nearest units were still over two miles away and the gap was widening as the suspect increased his speed.
He thought to himself… in another mile, I will be out of radio range…Against his better judgment, he flipped the switch that would illuminate his light bar and turn on the take down lights. Expecting a chase, he tugged on his seat belt. He advised the radio that he was in hot pursuit, and would be switching to a statewide frequency. As the radio responded… as his back up advised of their ETA… the van suddenly pulled over.
Cars were zipping past. Wind created by the passing trucks was causing the patrol car to shake, and adrenalin took the place of thought… He aimed his spotlight on the van, he opened his car door, and stayed behind it as he exited the vehicle…at the same instant, the suspect exited his van. Without even aiming…he squeezed the trigger as quickly as he could. Approaching sirens grew louder as the bullets flew toward their intended target…
Sunday, January 09, 2005
In Blue (part one)
He gripped the wheel a little tighter than normal but didn’t realize it. The siren seemed louder than usual, he noticed that. Although the world was in slow motion, the cars he passed were blurred in his peripheral vision. There was a slight ache in his right arm. Was it his imagination, or was it still hurting a year and a half later? He wished the car he was pursuing would just pull off the side of the road, but he had already been chasing him for over six miles. It should have been a simple traffic stop, but this was not going to end well.
The chatter on the radio was reverberating in his head, which was now starting to hurt as well. After 14 years of law enforcement, this was not new to him. But it had only been 4 days since he returned to work. Six other units were now involved in the chase. Only one other officer in pursuit was from his department, so they were all trying to talk on the statewide channel, and it was cluttered with activity from several other un-involved departments. One more mile, and there would be another department involved. More noise, more confusion.
“419 to radio…we are southbound on the interstate about to leave the county…contact OSP to spike the interstate…he’s not stopping.”
The answer came back; “419, OSP is closing the ramps in the vicinity and will spike at mile 181.” He thought to himself, “that’s two miles from here, we could be out of radio range”. He was suddenly very aware of the other pursuing units and thankful for their presence.
He glanced at the speedometer then reported to the radio; “419 to radio, we are in excess of 100, he’s still weaving in and out of traffic.” As the radio confirmed his transmission, he noticed his temperature gage crossing into the hot zone. When he looked up, he could just make out the OSP units in the distance on the side of the interstate. Faintly he heard on his radio; “radio to 419, OSP advises spikes are down.” Instantaneously, he could see the blue Cadillac swerve abruptly within a cloud of smoke and dust. Everyone including the blue Cadillac began to slow down. He and three other units began to pull into formation to block in the Cadillac in case the spikes weren’t enough. The spikes worked however and the blue Cadillac careened toward the center strip.
The pursuing units seemed to all arrive at once, lights flashing, sirens still blaring, doors flying open, guns drawn, officers yelling, an overhead OSP chopper kicking up dust and driving the decibel level far beyond tolerable levels. The driver of the blue Cadillac emerged from the car. Despite orders to “get on the ground” the driver leveled the rifle at the first officer. There was one command to drop the gun…shouted by several, from multiple directions. The rifle however was pointed squarely at one officer. He fired once. That was enough. The threat was over.
The adrenalin continued to pump. He reached for a cigarette, forgetting that he had quit smoking while he was in the hospital. The internal affairs shooting team was already on its way. The squad was there checking for signs of life. There were pictures being taken, the chopper went away, the world was suddenly quiet. When the squad left the scene with the suspect in the back, it left without lights or siren.
The supervisor arrived, and asked him to hand over his gun, until the investigation was over. As the measurements and photos were taken, he sat in his own zone car… and he thought about his wife.
The chatter on the radio was reverberating in his head, which was now starting to hurt as well. After 14 years of law enforcement, this was not new to him. But it had only been 4 days since he returned to work. Six other units were now involved in the chase. Only one other officer in pursuit was from his department, so they were all trying to talk on the statewide channel, and it was cluttered with activity from several other un-involved departments. One more mile, and there would be another department involved. More noise, more confusion.
“419 to radio…we are southbound on the interstate about to leave the county…contact OSP to spike the interstate…he’s not stopping.”
The answer came back; “419, OSP is closing the ramps in the vicinity and will spike at mile 181.” He thought to himself, “that’s two miles from here, we could be out of radio range”. He was suddenly very aware of the other pursuing units and thankful for their presence.
He glanced at the speedometer then reported to the radio; “419 to radio, we are in excess of 100, he’s still weaving in and out of traffic.” As the radio confirmed his transmission, he noticed his temperature gage crossing into the hot zone. When he looked up, he could just make out the OSP units in the distance on the side of the interstate. Faintly he heard on his radio; “radio to 419, OSP advises spikes are down.” Instantaneously, he could see the blue Cadillac swerve abruptly within a cloud of smoke and dust. Everyone including the blue Cadillac began to slow down. He and three other units began to pull into formation to block in the Cadillac in case the spikes weren’t enough. The spikes worked however and the blue Cadillac careened toward the center strip.
The pursuing units seemed to all arrive at once, lights flashing, sirens still blaring, doors flying open, guns drawn, officers yelling, an overhead OSP chopper kicking up dust and driving the decibel level far beyond tolerable levels. The driver of the blue Cadillac emerged from the car. Despite orders to “get on the ground” the driver leveled the rifle at the first officer. There was one command to drop the gun…shouted by several, from multiple directions. The rifle however was pointed squarely at one officer. He fired once. That was enough. The threat was over.
The adrenalin continued to pump. He reached for a cigarette, forgetting that he had quit smoking while he was in the hospital. The internal affairs shooting team was already on its way. The squad was there checking for signs of life. There were pictures being taken, the chopper went away, the world was suddenly quiet. When the squad left the scene with the suspect in the back, it left without lights or siren.
The supervisor arrived, and asked him to hand over his gun, until the investigation was over. As the measurements and photos were taken, he sat in his own zone car… and he thought about his wife.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
The sky is falling...again
There they go again… The Cleveland weather forecasters and news anchors are using words like; “treacherous”, "dangerous”, ” threatening”. This is to describe the potential inbound weather. What it really means is, the temperature is dropping and there will be about 3 – 4 inches of snowfall. This is supposed to put Cleveland drivers into a panic.
Here is a revelation. This is Cleveland, Ohio. It is supposed to be cold and snowy. A little ice and snow is not treacherous, threatening or dangerous. Terrorists, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, serial killers, drunk drivers and angry spouses with guns are threatening, dangerous, and treacherous.
Unfortunately for local media, that damned Tsunami is still stealing their thunder, so we are subjected to the ranting of the local anchor trying desperately to make “his story, bigger than their story”. Ratings. Ratings. RANTINGS.
To quote a car commercial… Wake up and drive!
Here is a revelation. This is Cleveland, Ohio. It is supposed to be cold and snowy. A little ice and snow is not treacherous, threatening or dangerous. Terrorists, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, serial killers, drunk drivers and angry spouses with guns are threatening, dangerous, and treacherous.
Unfortunately for local media, that damned Tsunami is still stealing their thunder, so we are subjected to the ranting of the local anchor trying desperately to make “his story, bigger than their story”. Ratings. Ratings. RANTINGS.
To quote a car commercial… Wake up and drive!
Sunday, January 02, 2005
"I'm the tax man."
We built our present home in 1990. We were the first home to go up in our development. One day as we were meeting with the builder to finalize some plans, he mentioned that there would be a water retention area between the properties. This was being mandated by the City. Further, the water retention area needed to be managed since it was common ground for the neighborhood. Consequently, there was a need for a home owners association. I jokingly said; “ I want to be the President.”
There is a lesson here. If you want to be a smart ass, be prepared for the consequences. It’s been 14 years and I’m still the president. My only responsibility is to collect and remit $10.80 each year to the County to cover the property taxes. Now divide that by 26 homes. Yeah… it’s a huge amount of money, but there are still people who I have to chase around for the payment. There is one family that hasn’t paid in three years. I keep hoping they will put their house up for sale so I can file a lien for $1.26 as my way of saying thanks for the cooperation. Anyhow, it’s that time of year again. Wish me luck.
There is a lesson here. If you want to be a smart ass, be prepared for the consequences. It’s been 14 years and I’m still the president. My only responsibility is to collect and remit $10.80 each year to the County to cover the property taxes. Now divide that by 26 homes. Yeah… it’s a huge amount of money, but there are still people who I have to chase around for the payment. There is one family that hasn’t paid in three years. I keep hoping they will put their house up for sale so I can file a lien for $1.26 as my way of saying thanks for the cooperation. Anyhow, it’s that time of year again. Wish me luck.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Turn the page
Well, so far this year has started out pretty much like last year. I don’t say that to be negative, depressing, or to sound disappointed. I just think that your personal happiness has less to do with the changing of the calendar and more to do with your decision to move forward. That is a decision that can be made any time, not just NYE. In fact, I think decisions to change, improve, move forward mean more when they are not made on NYE. It is just too easy on NYE to “get into the moment” and say things that you won’t stick too.
We kept things pretty quiet last night. A shrimp and steak dinner, then we met the Fockers. Got home in time to see the ball fall on Times Square, listen to the neighbor’s blow off some illegal fireworks, then zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
David Letterman tapes at 4pm. Consequently he never does a NYE show. Too bad, because I really don’t care for Leno. His ego has gotten way beyond his talent. I read recently that his ratings are higher than Lettermans’. I am on a personal mission to change that. (How about that guest shot now Dave?)
So what will 2005 bring? Whatever comes, I will view it as a challenge to grow.
Keep praying for the people of Asia.
in the immortal words of Bob Seger..."Turn the page."
We kept things pretty quiet last night. A shrimp and steak dinner, then we met the Fockers. Got home in time to see the ball fall on Times Square, listen to the neighbor’s blow off some illegal fireworks, then zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
David Letterman tapes at 4pm. Consequently he never does a NYE show. Too bad, because I really don’t care for Leno. His ego has gotten way beyond his talent. I read recently that his ratings are higher than Lettermans’. I am on a personal mission to change that. (How about that guest shot now Dave?)
So what will 2005 bring? Whatever comes, I will view it as a challenge to grow.
Keep praying for the people of Asia.
in the immortal words of Bob Seger..."Turn the page."
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