Mind Over Matter

When they were young, my cousins Linda and Nancy hated to take cod liver oil from a spoon. They hated the taste. So their parents found a store that sold cod liver oil capsules and brought some home for the girls to try. Of course, they didn’t tell the girls what was in the capsules. It turned out that they loved them! What they would do is bite a small hole in the capsule and suck out all the cod liver oil. That was great fun to them. I don’t know how long their parents kept from telling them what was in the capsules, but they grew up to be healthy young ladies.

The Knife Strikes - Again!

It seems as though I wasn't diligent enough in my younger days about using sunscreen. I need to go under the knife again for another basal cell carcinoma. The biopsy was positive, so it's in to see the knife wielder on Thursday.

BOOK REVIEW

There has been much misinformation about the fates of the men who signed the Declaration of Independence. To set the record straight, Denise Kiernan & Joseph D’Agnisi have written “SIGNING THEIR LIVES AWAY: The FAME and MISFORTUNE of the MEN WHO SIGNED The Declaration of Independence.” The book is organized by colony, beginning with New Hampshire and moving south to Georgia, so one is able to go quickly to a favorite colony. Information includes each signer’s birth and death date, age at signing and occupation(s). Some of the sub-headings under the names are: The Signer Who Fought for Freedom with His Slave, The Signer Who is Two Degrees From Kevin Bacon, The Signer Who Slept in Caves, The Six-fingered Signer and The Signer Who Started Out as an Indentured Servant. Do you know which signer was a cobbler? A cooper? Which one used part of a statue of King George III to make bullets? Also, why do we celebrate the signing on July 4th and not July 2nd or August 2nd? Well, just open the book and all the information is right there. An interesting read, recommended for the curious, as well as history buffs.

Why Write?

Why write? Well, we know about our history because those before us wrote down their folklore, what they remembered of what they saw, and what they wished they would see. So I’ve tried to write down things as I remember them. Perhaps someone will read them and have some incident brought to mind that happened to them, and decide to write it down. Too often in this day and age of e-mail, instant messaging, Facebook, Twitter and such, we have lost the ability or desire to record our thoughts and actions on paper. Thus, our descendants will not be able to understand the world in which we lived except through the words of other people and, perhaps, even other cultures. So write it down to let others know of your own personal folklore. Write about your parents, their lifestyle, how yours differs from theirs. Write about your plans and dreams for your descendants. Not very many of us have that “greatest novel of the century” within us, but we each have at least one story begging to be put down on paper. Right? Write!

ACTION NEWS

There was an obituary in the morning paper for a gentleman you’ve probably never heard of, but who has had a major impact on the way you view television - that is, the news on television. His name is Frank Magrid and he developed the concept called “Action News” which resulted in “co-anchors who chatted between stories, fast-paced graphics, sports tickers and live shots, and a heavy reliance on crime coverage and feel-good segments.” Now I have no quarrel with the man or his idea, however, I do have a quarrel with the way it has been implemented around here (here being the Valley of the Sun). Mostly, it has to do with the time wasted broadcasting meaningless videos to support a story. “Fast-paced graphics," indeed!

As an example, a driver loses control and the vehicle plunges into a building; simple enough, except while listening to a description of the accident, which drones on and on, we are shown videos of the rear of the vehicle, then a shot of a nearby undamaged shrub, then a group of police cars parked on some street, followed up by a tow truck. Good grief! Please stop it! Just tell me succinctly that the accident occurred, whether or not anyone was hurt, the extent of the damage, if traffic is impeded in the area, show me one picture of the scene, and then get on to the next story. And please, please, please use the past tense when describing something that has already happened.

One channel here has the annoying habit of announcing “Weather Alert” when there is a thunderstorm in Minnesota or the threat of a tornado in Oklahoma. “Weather Alert”! Give me a break. That’s like the boy who cried “Wolf” in Aesop’s Fables, or wherever. If it’s not local, why should I go on the alert?

Co-anchors? Who stumble over who has the next line? Who needs them? Certainly not me. Please, one or the other of you just tell me the news in plain English. No inside jokes, no “pleasant” banter, just the news.

Thank you in advance for your consideration of my request.

SMOKING

In 1949, while a freshman at Oklahoma A & M College, I roomed with Nelson C., who was a smoker. I was eighteen at the time and it seemed to be the right thing to do, so I asked Nelson to teach me how to smoke. My brother had started a few years before, and my father also smoked, so it wasn’t a new and revolutionary idea in the family. I learned how to tap the pack before opening and how to light up, but instead of inhaling, I was taking a mouthful of smoke and trying to swallow it. Well, as you all may not know, that’s not how it goes. After a few fitful tries, I did manage to get the smoke inhaled, and continued the practice for the next eighteen years. At times, I was burning up two packs a day, between the frustrations of earning a living and the joys (and the few frustrations) of raising a family.
During the eighteen years, I had toyed off and on with the thought of quitting. There were some times when I switched to cigarillos and cheroots, even a pipe, but always migrated back to the beloved/damned ciggies. One thing that was always visible in my doctor’s office was an ash tray with pictures of a healthy lung and a smoker’s lung; when he and I talked about smoking, he suggested switching to a pipe, which he used. The idea was that one could never keep a pipe lit, so there was no danger of damage to one’s system; he always punctuated the point by trying to keep his pipe lit.
Toward the end of the eighteen years, I kept vacillating between quitting and not. It began to get on my nerves, so I finally said to myself: “Self, you’ve got to decide whether or not you’re going to quit; the indecision is making you a nervous wreck.” So the decision was reached to continue smoking. At least the pressure was gone. However, after another three months, I said, finally: “That’s it, self, we’re giving up the habit!” And into the trash went all the accoutrements. To this day, forty-some years later, I’ve been true to that declaration.

Re: Sick, Sick, Sick

The weekend that our great-grandson visited, we went down to the Garden Cafe on Saturday for breakfast. After we, ordered, Grandma just reminded me, the waitress said she had to go look for the cook as he was sick. So that could have been the source of the bug that hit us. So breathe easy, Gabe, it might not have come from you.

Sick, Sick, Sick

Grandma and I are fighting colds and sore throats for almost a week now. We're so full of Zyrtek, Extra Strength Tylanol and Apple Cider Vinegar that it'll take a year to get it all out of our systems. And where oh where does all that mucous come from? Our sinuses are turning it out as though there's a world-wide shortage and they're going to overcome it on their own! We've been holed up here and haven't been out in days. Luckily, there is a food delivery service so we're not in any danger of starvation. If anyone has any good ideas about fighting colds, let us know.

Django

Today is the 100th anniversary of the birth of Django Reinhard, a jazz guitarist legend. If you've never heard him play, I recommend "Mano" for a start. Here's a good article about him: http://www.dw-world.de/dw/article/0,,5157547,00.html. I like his style and have 10 or 12 of his recordings on my iPod. Well worth the time to look up his records and listen. Enjoy!

Mosaic Watercolors?

I've been playing around with magic markers lately and decided to try something a little different for me. In the library, I was browsing the Art section and a book on mosaic tile caught my eye. After looking through a few books, I decided to try to "paint" a mosaic tile design. So I hauled out my magic markers and tried this horse. It looked decent enough so I did another one with watercolor paints. I don't have a photo of it yet, but will try to remember to post it later.

Ah, Winter

For my relatives and friends trying to survive the current cold spell:

A Middle English song celebrating summer starts:
Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu!
Growep sed and blowep med ...

This piece was parodied in "Ancient Music" by American Poet, Ezra Pound (Lustra collection, 1913-1915):
Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you; Sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.

Eh?

Some folks rant, others rave,
Some shudder, some look brave
As I convey my thought
On how Congress ought
To behave.

A Son's Tribute To His Father

Charles Barnhart, brother to my wife, died on October 23, 2008. His son, Claude, writes a newsletter for the residents of the lake on which the family has a cabin. This is part of the article that Claude wrote last spring; it was lurking in a nook or cranny on my computer that I just ran into and thought it was worth sharing. Here it is:

“Fishing Bits and Bites”

Hello everyone I bet you are excited to get back out on the lake and do some fishing, me too. I have enjoyed some ice fishing with average success but am ready to get back in the boat. I am finding this years letter extremely difficult to write for one particular reason. As some of you may know I lost my fishing partner in October. My dad was a great angler and an even greater father. What makes him or any other person a great angler has nothing to do with expensive rods and reels, the latest electronics, or tackle boxes full of lures. To me it has to start with a passion for the sport. When you are just as happy if not happier that your son, daughter, or father caught more or bigger fish than you that day, or you go out fishing in the worst possible conditions imaginable, these are two examples of true passion for the sport. Another thing that is critical in becoming the best angler you can be is knowledge, you all know about reading in fishing magazines for the latest tips and tactics, I’m talking about the knowledge you get from other people. My father taught me so much about fishing as I was growing up, which I still use today in everyone of my fishing adventures, however as years moved on and certain aspects of angling changed, he was willing to listen, learn and adapt to change, that’s the making of a great angler. I could go on for hours and take up several pages of our newsletter with stories about my dad and I fishing, but I won’t. If my father was here today and he was going to make one comment to all of you, I think he would say “Take your kids fishing”. You will make so many great memories that are just irreplaceable, trust me I know. Fishing is a sport best shared with family and friends. In regards to the fish in our lake, the walleyes seem to be doing well. ... Thank you so much for listening to me share my views and opinions. Enjoy the lake and I wish you all success in your angling adventures in the years to come. I would like to dedicate this years letter in loving memory of Charles Barnhart. I love you dad. Claude Barnhart

Senior Moments No More

Many of us have had that experience when someone's name momentarily slips our mind, or the word we are seeking has found a hiding place in our memory bank. We laughingly call it "a senior moment." Well, I was talking with a friend last night who has been diagnosed with lung cancer and pulmonary fibrosis, and has been taking morphine for the pain. During the conversation, he kept pausing, searching for the correct next work, and blaming the pauses on the morphine. So in honor of Large Edward, I'll start calling those pregnant pauses "morphine moments" from now on.

Ah, Rain

I've been sitting on the patio this morning, reading the paper, eating breakfast and having a good cup of coffee. We had a thunderstorm roll through last evening, so got to see the lightning flashing and hear the thunder roll. The rain was a refreshing change from the drought-like conditions during this year's monsoon - or, should we say "non-soon" - for the lack of moisture. Storms here are hit-or-miss affairs. One part of the Valley can receive a torrential downpour and flash floods, while a short distance away, the ground is dry and parched. There was a flash flood in Oak Creek the other day, caused by a local 3" rainfall, that tore through a shopping area and "floated cars around like beach balls" as one witness described it. We have a Stupid Motorists law in Arizona that fines those drivers stupid enough to drive through flooded washes and are washed away, requiring risky rescues. So beware of the washes when driving in Arizona. You, too, could wind up on television as annother good example of a bad driver.

Reading Assignment

Your reading assignment for this month is:

1. "Culture of Corruption" by Michelle Malkin.
2. Chapter 3 of "An Inconvenient Book" by Glen Beck.

Your test will be at the next election.

The Missing Posters

Here are the missing posters.

Freedom

A friend sent me an email with a bunch of World War II posters. I saved two because they reminded me of the fight we Americans are in to remain free. I’m not talking of the fighting going on in other parts of the world. No, I’m talking about the fight going on in this country between those Americans who want to keep their freedom and those politicians in Washington, D. C. who are trying to take our freedom away. The current issue is about Health Care. Americans should have the right to choose whether or not they want to buy a health care plan. However, our President and some members of Congress are proposing legislation that would mandate we participate in some form of health care. There goes our freedom of choice. How many more of these restrictions are we going to stand for? I’ve already written to President Obama and my Congressional Representatives to state my opposition to the proposal. Have you?

(Unfortunately, I can't find the posters.)

Controversy

In January 1996, Rev. Joe Wright was asked to give the opening prayer to the Kansas House of Representatives. His prayer stirred an uproar with some people in the building. Here is his prayer, so you can decide for yourself how controversial it was:

Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask forgiveness and to seek your direction and guidance. We know Your Word says, "Woe to those who call evil good," but that is exactly what we have done. We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values. We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery. We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare. We have killed our unborn and called it choice. We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable. We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self-esteem. We have abused power and called it politics. We have coveted our neighbor's possessions and called it ambition. We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression. We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment. Search us, oh God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and set us free. Amen.

Under the Knife, Again

Last month, during my annual physical, the doctor pointed to a red spot on my shoulder that I hadn't noticed before, and said he would take it off and have it biopsied. So back the next week to go under the knife. It turned out to be a basal cell carcinoma, which is the least worrisome type of cancer. Today, he removed the rest of the cancer cells in the area. He asked if I wanted to see what he had removed and I quickly declined. I'm curious about some things, but not flesh and blood, especially mine!