random thoughts

We are in for a thrill of a ride.  When was the last time a political party was taking office with the express purpose of removing the leader of the other party?  It’s not even the unspoken under the radar impression that they want to “win” in the field of politics.  They are combined with a cheering squad fully shown as the propagandists they are.  I will continue to call them the MSP – main stream propagandists.  I haven’t seen anything to deter me from that description.

On the plus side, we have troops returning from areas we probably shouldn’t have been in the first place.  Call me old fashioned, but if we are in a war, how about we just carpet bomb until the opposing side cries uncle?  If they don’t, we just carpet bomb until they are silent.  Problem solved.  If anyone remembers world war 2, note that approach works.  We didn’t get the surrender of Japan until we flattened the place.  You can tell I wouldn’t be an appreciated defense secretary…

Well, things are going around the homestead.  I have projects in need of time and having a day off work provides just that opportunity.  The problem comes with trying to decide which project to tackle first.  There are Christmas decorations begging to be placed back in their homes for this coming Christmas, children’s play area in need of serious attention, ubiquitous house cleaning, Round Up application on the continuously growing weeds, cleaning out the van – it’s amazing how just a little time with kids produces a cyclone appearance, some more sound blocks to be glued in the music room, and kidinbox to entertain throughout this time.  I’m almost tired thinking about it.  Well, as I type, the parade is playing on the TV and kidinbox is relatively well behaved, so I have no complaints.  We are off to a decent start of this year.  Now if there was just some way to get those so in so’s in Washington to leave us alone, things would be really fine.


Siblinginbox and I had a very active father.  Who taught us how to scan and got the fish?  Dad.  Who taught us to shoot a 22 rifle with sites or scope? Dad.  Who taught us how to hammer a nail?  Dad.  Who taught us to take apart a screaming fan, oil the bearings, then reassemble?  Dad.  Who taught us working when the job was not fun but did need to get finished?  Dad.  ” Variety spice of life, but monotony brings home the paycheck.”  Who taught us the parts of the engine and that which required continual maintenance?  Dad.  Who taught us how to run a lawnmower, how to tie a knot, how to lash things onto your vehicle?  Dad. who taught us a truth Congress does not know, that if your money is spent for item “a,” you cannot buy item “b” with that same money because it is no longer available?  Dad.


What could a boy do whose dad was not available?  There used to be a couple alternatives for any boy in that position.  In some cases, grandpa was available.  In some cases there was an uncle.  From 100 years there were were the scouts.  When I was young, scouts taught skills, gentle competition, provide incentives for creativity using tools, and maintained a positive atmosphere around things masculine.  Scouts had a pledge that they used to say at every meeting.  All the boys stand with scouting salute and recite;

On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight.

Look at this pledge.  “On my honor”, what is honor apart from a quality in an individual?  “Do my best” has the active verb “do”.    What is more male than activity?  The associated  nown with this is duty.  Right here is noted that activity is associated with requirements or expectations and then these expectations are the associated with the general, the organization, the culture, and finally the self.  Certain of these expectations are specified, and those specified are associated with the personal. Physically strong is related to activity and not becoming a couch potato.  Mentally awake advises active brain activity and not passive reception that is trained and encouraged in media and education.  Morally straight was fought and won all the way through the Supreme Court. The former Boy Scouts maintain their integrity up to the early 2000s that immorality was not provided a place.


Homosexuality is immoral.  Period.  I have on occasion heard an argument from the homosexual advocate how the Bible condones their activity under the guise of love.  What is given, is the very definite clear description of judgment provided any who partake in homosexual activities.

 Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men[a] 10 nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.

While the Boy Scouts managed to maintain their integrity from outside attacks, they lost war from the inside.  Their protected right of keeping the immoral out of leadership was given up.  They have now given up their basic identity.  Where is a boy supposed to go? Are there any more male only institutions?  Who is going to give male instruction to these boys such that they will become men? I pity those who do not have fathers and the next generation that will be trying to raise children without the necessary background skills.  Boys are not simply girls with a different set of genitalia.


Boys learn differently, behave differently, interact differently, and mature differently than girls.  Physical differences are numerous.  The mental and emotional differences are profound.  That is why consistently and hundred percent against any mixed combat troops.  Men will always behave differently with the female then with each other.  There’s already a comic out on the web showing pregnant teenage girl in a scout uniform saying how she enjoyed the camping trip. Therefore, even comics note there is no doubt the result of such a decision.  Siblinginbox and myself are blessed to grow up when we did.  I would wish our opportunities extended to future generations, but it looks like those chances are slowly being removed.

I am anticipating a family event later this summer and purchased a couple battery powered amplifiers for the venue.  One of the attractions of these was the presence of Bluetooth.  The plan is to sync the phone and play music for the crowd present.  That is the concept.  It does need to be tested.  I charged the battery, managed to sink the unit with my phone, then looked up YouTube on my phone as I had no saved music there.  While I was trying to think of some music group to use for testing, the name Merle Womach  came to mind.  I had seen Mr. Womach in concert back when I was in high school.  The man had an incredible voice.  If memory serves me, he had about a four octave range.  During the concert, he talked about the airplane crash that burned him and left him with all that scarring that you see in the pictures.  Amazingly, his voice was untouched. I decided to play the song “Happy again” which happened to be the first to show up on the potential list.  It’s quite a pleasant song as you listen to it and the message seems, may I say, a little simplistic.  I was walking around messing with the amplifier settings well the song was playing.  So it wasn’t until little bit later that I started taking a little time to watch the video that accompanied the music.

Seeing injured men in an old-time hospital ward didn’t seem to troubling at the time.   Actually, it sort of fit.  I noticed that the video did not accent Mr. Womach’s face.  Back when I heard him in concert, he mentioned awaiting to more eye surgeries. I sufficed myself on the set up of the amplifiers, then once satisfied there, started looking underneath the video at the comments to the same.  Many of those comments were absolutely brutal.  Me being me, had to contemplate the mindset that would place the comments like I observed.  What I have considered, is that song needs to be taken in context with the character singing.

Consider “I’ve been happy before, I’ll be happy again” sung by the likes of Miley Cyrus.  The last picture I saw of her begs application of eye bleach.  The message of the song, especially in this case, needs to come in coordination with the individual delivering it.  Mr. Womach had been through incredible pain and rebuilding of his face.  During the concert, he talked about being in a vision where he he went down a hillside towards a river.  A man was waiting there with a boat.  The man asked him whether he was ready to cross the river.  He informed the man not now, he still had work to do.  That’s when he came out of a coma.

The impact of the song is not because the words are anything spectacular, but because of the history of the one singing them.  That’s why having him sing those words in the presence of patients in the midst of treatment makes sense.  This is not a song for people without issues.  It is an encouraging word that there is a light at the end of the tunnel from somebody who has been through a tunnel.

As a musician, there is a difference in getting a complement from Joe 8-track versus a first chair cellist.  As a patient, there is a difference in hearing a canned response versus hope from a survivor.  I am a nurse.  I started nursing in an oncology ward.  I have it ministered pain meds and spoken with patients during many of our planet’s revolutions around the sun.  However, certain things can only be best appreciated by experience.  I assure you that this past year has given me the incredible appreciation for patients with chronic pain.  There is a constant level of apprehension whether, for example, pushing on the wall mounted soap dispenser will hurt too much.  Should I turn the doorknob with my other hand?  Shaking hands with the patient post office visit is an almost dreaded experience because you never know if you have a simple goodbye or you’ll have an aggressive handshaker that leaves you feeling like knives going down the arm for the next hour.  This last year given the experience that has changed my impressions from that which I previously read or spoken, to a different part of my psyche.

Back to the commenters: I’m left with the impression that they fall into one of two camps. The initial would be those who have had no experience. It’s commenting without life’s education.  The second group would be those who do have problems and are so cynical they can no longer hear any end to them.  I would not surmise which camp would reply in which fashion, just admit that’s my interpretation of their comments.

The place where I took my first breath was upstate New York.  it is known for HillS, tall trees, liberal intrusive government, and snow.  In reaction to the snow, and to keep some semblance of friction between the car tires and the ground, the cities apply salt to the roads.  It helps somewhat.  It has other effects though.  Cars from that section of the country are notorious for rust.  The salt plays havoc with the paint job and metal of the car and quickly deteriorates the lower seems of doors under carriages and drive train.  Its effects are not limited to the mobile machines.  There are many metal supported bridges in the area.  One of these has created a mental picture.  This bridge was designed to support a train across three lanes of road.  there were vertical supports set in sets of four diagonal attachments between each of the four these legs were supported to each other by vertical I-beams designed similarly.  We would drive under that train bridge since I was a kid not griping, I noted the rust on the structure of this bridge.  Over time, I noted how some of the small diagonal pieces would rust through.  On that rare occasion, some individual would actually have a rate of sense and believe it a good idea to fix the bridge structure. So once, maybe twice in the years I was there some new metal structure was applied and some of the rust and decay was cleaned and the metal structure repainted.

There was another obvious incident.  We were driving under the bridge and I noted this nice straight vertical column was no longer straight.  It was bent in with a sharp curve about 18 inches above the ground.  Since it was a structure, and not a single piece, the metal corners nearest the outside were compressed more than the inside corners.  These obvious marks of somebody running into the bridge.  The bridge still stood doing the job for which it was placed even though showing rust, decay, and accidents.  It continued to be used even in this state of repair, or disrepair as the case may be.

This did seem to me to be a decent allegory of what has been and what I’m anticipating.  In contrast to the bridge however, when my structure gets altered, I will not be able to support the workloads that I previously had known.  My hope is that the anticipation is, or rather will be, worse than the actual procedure and outcome.  I am standing here on the back side of the bridge watching the misguided car heading towards the upright.   The possibilities are flashing through my mind.  The desire for avoidance is palpable,  though there is an understanding that the trajectory combined with the structural presence makes the outcome inevitable.  Those moments before the accident are the periods of time I have been contemplating for the past many months.  Talk about time expansion!

We live in west Texas.  Things grow small here.  The trees are shorter than anywhere else I have lived.  There are mesquites.  I call them Texas weeds.  Technically, they are a tree.  by appearance, and smell when  being burned, they belong in the barbecue pit.  Other weeds have a wonderful time in my yard.  Even with weed barrier and  a couple inches of rock, they still grow.  Even with application of preemergent, they still grow.  We tried to have a patch of grass in the back yard.  After all, the dogs need a location to run and fertilize.  With careful tilling of the dirt, application of manure and fertilizer, we ended up with more weeds than grass.  I applied weed killer as well as weed and feed and killed a small tree.  The weeds are still there.  The grass has a few tufts.  To save the trees out front, I have only used the preemergent and spent time pulling weeds there.  The weeds are winning.

When pulling the weeds, I have noted a couple of root systems.  There are the single roots which extend through the weed barrier and into the dirt several inches.  The weed barrier doesn’t seem to have any effect on them.  Next are the diverse spread roots which occupy an underground area of sometimes half the size of the upper plant.  These correspond with my earlier education on the subject, namely, monocotic and dicotic plants.  This refers to the seed styles and later to the root systems employed.

No matter the root system, upward pressure of an appropriate amount does have effect on the maintenance of the weeds contact with the soil.  Some respond easily, some break off at the surface only to regrow later.  Others break off under the surface with another future growth at that site.  Some are more easily pulled when young and spindly whereas others are pulled more easily when they are older.  Only experience and practice can elicit the difference.

We have some weeds which try to place flowers and appear like they were desired there as a ground enhancement.  Others place immediate spikes to deter the pulling activity in which I engage.  I have observed that the growth pattern most utilized and noted that the seed sprouts, sends a root to obtain nourishment, then immediately forms a new seed.  It’s like the first thought is to make another.  Any area neglected by my pulling activity will shortly be occupied by mainly a single type of weed with an occasional different which blew into the area.

Is there any application to this rambling?  Weeds are a metaphor to the philosophies growing in our society.  It occurred to me that this is also the fashion to which liberals apply themselves in the marketplace.  They blow in, and immediately look for a source of sustenance.  The next task is to form another of themselves and then begin to grow and remove nutrients from the area.  Removing them is a difficult task and requires effort and much discomfort as the spikes applied are simply there to deter that activity.  If one gets tired of their presence and wants to “nuke” the entire operation, desirable individuals get removed as well.  The only way to have any success is apply germination preventative and slowly remove what has grown.

These are my thoughts while bent in half saying “ouch” in my front yard.

After my last post, I stepped into the tub for a shower and realized an important piece missing.  How does the shower have anything to do with an automatic cat pan?  Well simply the lack of pellets noticed that morning.  The Cat Genie has custom pellets for its operation.  They look like someone took a broom that has those hollow bristles and cut those bristles in 1/4″ lengths.  Those things get everywhere.  I have found them in my bed, through the carpet, even in my sock at work.  I felt like I was walking on a pebble and on removing my sock, found on of those pellets.  One chore was to sweep the bathroom and return the pellets to the machine again.  Did I mention they get everywhere?  Now that the machine is in a closet, the number of pellets in diverse locations has decreased.  Also helping this scenario, I believe, is that I put a scratch pad right at the opening of the closet, so the cats have to walk on it to get in or out.  Here I was standing in the shower and realized that I was not pulling pellets off my feet.  What a nice discovery!

I do have to get into the closet every week and a half, roughly, and sweep in there and return the pellets to the machine, but on the whole, this beats scooping the cat pan every day.

We had kidinbox over for the weekend.  The request was to see Jumanji.  I am leery of sequels.  There are very few I like.  I also note, Walt Disney corp used to be a family friendly organization and one could trust the content.  Now the corporation is the exact opposite.  Let me describe the good of the movie first.  The story was similar to the former with a time lapse character and the bulk of the play being persons lost in the game.  The characters in the game were humorous and contrasted with the teenage characters from the start of the movie.  Comments related to the contrast between the original characters and the game characters kept chuckles going for a period of time.

The contrast is now taken to a new extreme when you have a teenage girl supposedly existing in the body of a middle age overweight man.  This concept is taken to a new level of penis humor I have never seen in a movie.  Yes, the jokes about the man’s appendage are thick in the middle of the flick.  “And remember to aim,” was repeated several times as the characters were instructing the middle aged man how to perform with the new appendage.

Not to be left out of the mix, Disney introduces a homosexual kissing into this with the cover of CPR.  There was no actual CPR going on as all the presentation of that cover was absolutely incorrect.  Completely.  Disney is pushing an agenda.

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