SPRING/SUMMER 2020 AND BASEBALL

Oh my how the year 2020 just does not seem right.  Now we are all looking for some normalcy to return and the biggest thing that can return us back to a normal summer is baseball.

The meme showed up on my Facebook feed a few days ago.  It was simple enough but carried a message that usually ends during the first weekend of April every year.  Here is what it looked like:

This was placed on Facebook by my cousin Dawn.  Dawn lives in St. Louis (which you think would be bad enough) and she carries on the tradition of the rivalry between the Cardinals of St. Louis and the Cubs of Chicago.  It is all in good fun and we each have a laugh at each others expense every baseball season.  At the same time we do play nice when at the end of the season one of the two clubs are in the play-offs.  This means I play nice a lot more often than Dawn does because chances are the Cardinals are in the play-offs three years for every one year that the Cubs make the post season ... and that is being conservative.

However, Dawn did show a lot of class in 2016 when the Cubs finally won the World Series for the first time in over a hundred years.  I received a pair of socks that proclaimed the Cubs as World Series Champions.  I always pull for the Cardinals during post season as the represent the state of Missouri in a very fine and classy manner.

This year has been different though.  Thanks to a virus that has the American economy shut down, there is not any baseball.  If Tom Hanks theory of "There's no crying in baseball" holds true, then there is a lot of crying around the thirty ballparks that serve as home to the thirty clubs because there is no baseball.

Dawn's meme was correct, if not slanted, as we begin to see the first of May approaching without a single ballgame being played.  Even spring training was cut short.  All major league sports are suspended for an undetermined amount of time.  I am just thankful that the Chiefs were able to get that Super Bowl victory and the Blues won the Stanley cup before things went completely bonkers in the sports world.

How many of us have ever had the thought cross our mind of there being no sports.  Chances are that if we did think that thought it would be for a positive outcome. Well, folks here we stand, absolutely no competitive sports being played around the world.  There is not any soccer.  There are no auto races anywhere from local Saturday night dirt races on up to NASCAR, Indy and Formula 1 racing.  There is not a golf tourney every weekend.  We did not have "March Madness" for college basketball and the college softball and baseball teams did not even make it though half a season and so there was not a College World Series.

The televised sports networks do not know what to show.  They spent a week showing the old "Home Run Derby" show from the late 50's to early 60's.  After 3 or 4 hours of that it is snooze time.  I have taken to watching Full baseball games from previous years from both the regular seasons as well as some of the old World Series classic games.  I watched a game the other day from a couple of decades ago where the Phillies beat the Cubs 23-22.  Chances are we would not have seen a game like that this season.  I have watched Bob Gibson pitch the first game of the 1968 World Series, a pitching masterpiece,  again.  It has been awhile since I have even saw highlights of that game.

Now the question is starting to bug me about when the Major League baseball season finally gets underway?  What will it look like when it does.  It could be close to the All-Star break before they even start the season.  Will there be a Kentucky Derby this year?  An Indianapolis 500?

Let's face it though.  The biggest thing missing this summer is baseball.  From the 7 year olds playing t-ball all the way to the major leagues.  It is not around and we miss it.  You might not want to admit that you do, but I have a feeling that somewhere deep down you feel its absence.

We drive through the neighborhood past ball field complexes that are usually filled with kids of all ages in filthy uniforms drinking a post game coke yet now the parking lots at the fields are empty.  The glow over the houses from the lights at the ball fields every  night is now dark.  The wiffleball games in the middle of the street joining all the neighborhood kids into a fun time of socialization are not to be found.

I Googled baseball 2020 and there is now a passionate discussion on whether to go back to 1960 when the season was only 154 or try to squeeze in the full 162 game season

I mean, is this discussion even needed?  Are we missing baseball so much that the only baseball arguments that are being made is whether to eight fewer games than normal?  This is sad indeed.

I read an article proposing that Major League Baseball commence in empty stadiums.  Not the usual regular season stadiums though, like Fenway, Wrigley or Yankee, but rather in the teams spring training stadiums.  Empty spring training stadiums.  This way the teams would not have to fly all over the country but a short drive around Arizona or Florida to play the game.  The problem with this idea, of course, is that between Florida and Arizona. the leagues intertwine terribly.  We would have a one season realignment of baseball with the champions from Florida playing the champions from Arizona is a World Series played in, oh I don't know, Midland, Texas maybe?

I could probably handle all of that but there is one thing that could change the face of baseball for a very long time.  If this "Florida/Arizona" model is accepted this year, what happens to the designated hitter rule?  You might smirk at this but it is a huge question.  For REAL baseball fans, the designated hitter was what George Steinbrenner sold his soul to the devil for.  He couldn't make the deal for both leagues but he got it in place in the American League.  A Faustian type conspiracy that would bring the Yankees a few more World Series titles, plenty of more post season appearances and the added bonus of not having to watch your pitcher look like a third grader at the plate every three innings swing lazily at pitches the he had no chance of making contact with.

This "Florida/Arizona" model for the 2020 season would be the final movement in the conspiracy to get rid of any semblance of puritanical baseball.  This is the biggest danger that the 2020 season faces, it is the largest risk that could possibly be taken.  The conspirators goal is to make their final move on placing the designated hitter rule into place for all of baseball.  My heart aches at the thought of that happening.  The next step would be replacing managers with robots as all strategy would more or less be taken from the game.  No longer would we see a full roster of a team being utilized in one game.  No more double substitutions to keep the pitcher at the bottom of the line up.  Pinch hitters and runners would become even more scarce than they are now.

I wonder, if it is possible, that some high roller money men in the Bronx, New York financed this virus and paid off news outlets to spread alarm.  Will President Trump step in to save the day by pushing for an amendment to the Constitution outlawing forever the designated hitter rule from the National League or is he also part of the conspiracy to bring the designated hitter into full force through out baseball.

Could this truly be the reason for this virus being unleashed on the world in 2020?  If so, I fear for the future of our country for when the designated hitter rule becomes the new norm for baseball, baseball as we know it will no longer exist.

Okay, so I got a little silly with this post.  I should be able to do that from time to time, don't you think?  When My cousin Dawn posted that meme about the Cards being undefeated while the Cubs have yet to win a single game I wrote to her that it was typical liberal spin on facts to which she replied  "We have to joke this year. We have nothing to watch. I’m rewatching the Stanley Cup now.".  
My cousin Dawn is correct.  Right now at this point in time, we do need to keep a good disposition and make the best of what we are dealt.  Grab fun and laughter wherever you can.  It could be the only things that keeps us all sane.

Good luck dear readers as we work our way through this summer of 2020.

God bless all of you.

ROSEANNE VS FERGIE

There once was a time, a long long time ago, when performers sang the national anthem as it was written and it was good.  Then we were forced to endure a couple of decades of these singers creating their own arrangements of The Star Spangled Banner that left the listener wondering if it was indeed the national anthem they were listening to.  It was horrible.

One of these performances stood out as worse than any other public performance of the song and it was sung with the original arrangement.  In July of 1990, Roseanne Barr performed the song before a Padres/Reds baseball game in San Diego.  Now, Roseanne is a comedian, not a singer.  She went out and more or less yelled the song with a bit of a tune to make it recognizable and upon finishing the song, she grabbed her crotch and then spit before walking off the field.

There have been a lot of bad performances of the song but Roseanne's became known as the absolutely worst ever and a case could be made for that opinion.  Here is what Roseanne's version sounded like on that day:

So for 28 years Roseanne bore the title of the worst national anthem singer of all time... that is, until yesterday.

Roseanne received some competition for the title at the NBA All-Star game.  Fergie, of Black Eyed Peas fame, brought back the old self arrangements of the song and brought the bar to a new high for the title.  As Fergie sang The Star Spangled Banner, you could see not only fans at the game, but the players themselves trying very hard not to break out in laughter.  See if you can keep from at least a little chuckle while listening to her performance:

To compare an example of a great performance of the national anthem, one has only to look a year after Roseanne butchered it.  It was the Super Bowl when the late Whitney Houston set the bar for one of the greatest public performances of the song of all time.  To many, it is the standard by which all other performances should be compared:

So I decided to try to decide which version was worse,  Roseanne or Fergie.  This was not an esay excersize to work through.   For one thing, I put my brain through listening to each version several times.

Let's take quick comparison of these two performances.  We can look at Roseanne and say "She is a comedian, not a singer" and we can look at Fergie and say the opposite "She is a singer, not a comedian."  That is all well and good but a strange thing happened.  When Roseanne, the comedian, sang the song the crowd let out a chorus of boos even before the crotch grap and spit.  When Fergie, the singer, was performing the work it took for everyone to not burst out in laughter was quite evident.  Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Roseanne was herself during her performance.  She did not arrange the song differently, but sang it more or less the way it was written (I use the word "sang" loosely here).  Fergie took all of her musical talent and ability to arrange the song to her liking and performed it intentionally to a horrible outcome.  She put a lot of theatrics into her performance in order to make it more dramatic? I suppose.

After the the performance was finished Roseanne grabbed her crotch and spit on the ground.  Fergie on the other hand shouted out "Let's play some basketball!!!"  Now we could take Roseanne's gestures as disrespectful to the anthem and to the country.  I choose not to.  Looking at the two performances, grabbing of the crotch and spitting are an integral part of baseball.  Next time you watch a baseball game, try to count how many times players spit and "adjust" their pants.  I promise you it is a lot.  So I choose to see Roseanne's gestures as her way of saying "Play Ball" which is far more American than the announcer at a basketball game saying "Let's play some basketball".  I don't think I have ever heard that at a basketball game but 99.999% of the time at a baseball game, the umpire or the announcer will say "PLAY BALL".

The booing of the crowd in San Diego makes me think that perhaps the fans were not taking Roseanne as a comedian doing a bit, but rather as someone who was trying to sing the anthem the way it was written and failed miserably.  However the laughter at Fergie's serious attempt at performing the song made the crowd see her as a musician making a fool of herself.

MY conclusion ... congratulations Roseanne,  you are no longer the worst performer ever to sing the Star Spangled Banner in a public forum.  You aren't Whitney Houston of course, but you sure aren't Fergie either.

AS LONG AS WE ARE REWRITING HISTORY

As long as we are rewriting history and destroying monuments and statues that remind us of our past, in particular concerning the slave issue and the Civil War, I think we should take it all the way instead of just those monuments of Civil war participants and Confederate Generals and armed forces.

So my first proposal is to rename any national monuments around the country that honor any president who owned slaves and held slaves which would lead up to the Civil War.  First off lets look at the Presidents of the United States who did own slaves.

01. George Washington owned slaves
02. John Adams did NOT own slaves
03. Thomas Jefferson owned slaves
04. James Madison owned slaves
05. James Monroe owned slaves
06. John Quincy Adams did NOT own slaves
07. Andrew Jackson owned slaves
08. Martin Van Buren owned slaves
09. William Henry Harrison owned slaves
10. John Tyler owned slaves
11. James K. Polk owned slaves
12. Zachary Taylor owned slaves
13. Millard Fillmore did NOT own slaves
14. Franklin Pierce did NOT own slaves
15. James Buchanan did NOT own slaves
16. Abraham Lincoln did NOT own slaves
17. Andrew Johnson owned slaves
18. Ulysses S Grant owned slaves

 Grant was the last President to own a slave.

The obvious first step is to rename the Washington Monument to the Quincy Adams Monument followed by renaming of the Jefferson Memorial to the Adams Memorial.  Give these two early opponents of slavery their due finally.

Next, replace Washington with John Adams on the Dollar bill and the quarter.  Followed of course by Quincy Adams being placed on the nickel and the 20 dollar bill along with Harry Truman or John Kennedy on the 50 dollar bill.

The destruction or removal of all memorials, statues of slave owing Presidents across the entire nation is a must.  Any National Parks or federally owned lands named in "honor" of these Presidents should be renamed to those who did not own slaves with Adams and Quincy Adams getting first chance.  Consideration should also be given to great Americans who did not hold the office of the presidency.  Abolitionists like John Brown, Fredrick Douglas, Harriet Tubman and Rosa Parks in particular.  That is not sarcasm, I feel these Americans have long been over due recognition, particular John Brown, as has President Adams and President Quincy Adams.

The removal from the Register of National Historic Places of the homes, lands, or anything to do with the lives of these Presidents who upheld Slavery should take place.  First stop would be to bulldoze Mount Vernon and turn those lands into a National Park or reserve.  Bulldoze Monticello and all of Jefferson's holdings, again returning these lands to the American people in the way of a National Park or reserve.  Neither of these should be named for their former owners, Washington and Jefferson.  The third in this process would be to destroy the Hermitage in Tennessee and again, reclaim the lands and holdings for the American people.

After these three national ceremonies are completed, a very quick and systematic destruction of all homes and holdings of the remaining slave owning Presidents, including Grant's Tomb, should be destroyed and removed from memory.

History books used in our schools should pull any mention or teaching of these Presidents that were slave owners, replacing that space with Native American history.  John Adams should be taught as being the Father of the Country and the first legitimate President of the United States.

A commission should be established on the feasibility of re-carving Mount Rushmore to replace the likenesses of Washington and Jefferson with a carving of John Adams and  Woodrow Wilson.  If the commission decides that a re-carving could not be done safely, then the faces of Washington and Jefferson should be carved off to a flat surface.  The second part of the duties of this commission would be to oversee the total destruction of Stone Mountain in Georgia.

All Civil War Battlefields in which the Confederacy won should dutifully be removed from the Register of Historic Sights.  Any depictions or statues of a Confederate soldier ought to be destroyed on these sacred grounds where Union soldiers gave their lives.

All museums in the country which have any confederate memorabilia, especially a Confederate Flag of any kind, should destroy these artifacts of insurrection.

And you know, I kind of think that Grant's signature on the terms of surrender should be redacted.  Just a black box where Grant's signature use to be.  Once you destroy history, it cannot come back.

Now of course, all of these suggestions are ludicrous and would never happen or so I hope they don't.  This writing was intended to be sarcastic and satirical.  I am not so sure anymore.  History is important people, even if you don't like it or if it offends you.  It is still history and it is history that we should learn from.  It is OUR history, the citizens of the United States and even though it has lots of blemishes, lots of scars, it is still the best in the world.

We have had good Presidents and bad Presidents, even great Presidents as well as absolutely horrible Presidents.  I take great pride though in the fact that through all of our disagreements, both politically and philosophically, this nation has always stood as one when it came down to the bare bones.  I can, and have, disagree with cousins and neighbors and my grandfather on issues that are very important and come away from it still respecting each other and continue to talk and carry on the relationship we have forged.

There is a lot of hate going on in this country and it pains me to see it.  It isn't just Charlottesville or Evergreen State and it isn't coming from just one group of people.  There are pockets of hate in every part of the populace.  It is these small pockets of hate from all around that give rise to a crack in the American citizenry.

Freedom of Speech is at stake I feel.  I also feel Freedom of the Press is in peril.  The whole First Amendment seems to be collapsing.  The fourth and fourteenth amendments are coming close to being in danger.

Communication is the key.  Respectful communication where there is someone who's turn it is to speak and others listen carefully, closely, respectfully so that if they do not agree with speaker, they can have their turn to talk and be listened to closely and respectfully.   I don't mean only in words but in our actions as well.

We need our great leaders, our great minds of all races, creeds, cultures, philosophies and political leanings, great Americans to emerge from the shadows to lead, to think and to communicate.  Don't let this nation, this United States of America, be ripped apart anymore than it has in the whole of its history.

Our country needs this for now, for the future and for the future generations to come.

I CAN WRITE FICTION, I THINK .....

Eddie woke up in the backseat of his old Chevy.  He was covered in sweat and his hands were shaking.  It was still dark outside and a glance at his wrist revealed that the watch that normally resided there was gone.  Looking around he noticed that he was at a rest stop of some sort off away from a highway.  He crawled out of the car and noticing that there wasn't a building on the lot, walked over to a line of trees to relieve himself.  The sweat continued to bead over his body as he tried to get his bearings as to where he was.  He had no memory of pulling into this rest stop or falling asleep.

He sat on the hood of his car shivering a bit watching the traffic on the highway.  He tried to remember what had happened the previous night.  He knew something had happened, he could feel it inside of himself.  His sleep had been restless with images flashing in his dreams waking him up twice during the night.  He couldn't remember the images.  He was trying, but all he had was a knowledge that the images had popped in his mind and left as fast as they entered.  They were not good images.  Eddie felt ill at ease as he tried to remember his dreams.  He laid back on the hood of the car and closed his eyes and began trying to fill in this dark void in his memory that seemed to cover at least yesterday.

As he lay there he remembered what he thought was Tuesday night when he had driven to a motel with a girl that he had been drinking with.  That girl, what was her name?  He thought it was a strange name at the time. It started with a "C" he was pretty sure.  Candy? No. It was a strange name. Cally? Candell?  Candell... yeah, that was it.  He was pretty sure anyway.  Candell.  He remembered he had seen her hitchhiking as he was driving along the highway from Louisiana east towards Mississippi.  His goal was to get to Alabama and find a small time job for a few weeks to get some cash up then on to Georgia where he planned on settling down in one of the rural areas around Macon.  He had cousins in Macon and Eddie figured they would help him get started there, help him with a job, give him a place to stay until he could afford a small place for himself.

He thought back in time.  It was late Monday night when he had spotted Candell along the highway.  She wasn't no beauty but not too bad either.  Anyway, truth is it wouldn't matter what she looked like, he just wanted some company for a little while, someone to talk to.  When he had pulled over and stopped, Candell had approached the car slowly, peeking inside and looking him over.  He had seen her glance in the backseat before looking at Eddie in the face.  Eddie had asked her where she was heading, he would be happy to give her a lift for a bit.  She was heading to Mobile and so Eddie said he would take her as far as Birmingham if she wanted.  She accepted and slid into the car, hugging the door as Eddie pulled away.
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Detective Mark Edler pulled his car into the motel parking lot.  He noticed four squad cars already there with the officers standing outside the motel room door talking.  They had already taped off a perimeter with yellow streamers and were waiting on him to give the go ahead to start the taking up of evidence.  He walked up to the motel room door and greeted the officers.

"Sir," one of the officers was holding up his hand. "Sir, it is pretty bad in there, just thought you should know."

Edler looked at the officer that he knew as McFay.

"Well, let's go see what we got," Edler said as he motione dfor the other officers to stay outside while he and McFay went into the darkened room.  The curtains were pulled shut and the lights were out so that the only source of light was from the doorway and what filtered through the curtains,

"Body?" Edler asked the officer.

"Well sir, we haven't gone through the room at all.  We just looked at what the manager showed us when we arrived."  With that, McFay pulled out his flashlight and turned it on, pointing it towards the television set.  There on top of the TV was a human head.  It appeared to be a male.  The hair was messed up.  The eyes were opened wide and almost bulging out of the sockets.  The mouth was open in a silent scream as if begging for help.

Edler took the flashlight from McFay and traced a trail of blood from the neck of the head, down the front of the television to a large pool of blood on the floor.  He used the flashlight to look around the pool and noticed a trail of blood lead from the pool off into the bathroom of the small room.

"Are the techs here yet?" he asked McFay who answered in the affirmative.

"Yes sir.  Been here awhile waiting on you."

Edler walked out side and went over to the techs to describe what he had seen and what  they should expect.  Particular interest would be the bathroom of course.  The officers would stay outside unless the techs needed assistance, then an officer could enter to help and leave the room when the chore was complete.  The crime scene technicians began to gather their equipment together and then headed into the room.  There were four techs and when the lead tech turned on the light, all four stood still in shock at the display on the television.

"Bathroom?" the tech asked Edler.

"Ya think?" Edler responded sarcastically.

The two men walked slowly towards the bathroom in the back of the room, being careful  not to step in any of the blood trail or disturb anything else.  Edler turned on the light over the sink area of the bathroom.  The sinks was filled with a red liquid.

"Blood?" Edler asked and the tech slowly nodded his head.

"Probably.  I'll have Johnny take some pictures before we drain it."

The tech yelled for Johnny to come back and take pictures of whatever they found and informed the other techs to get the spare camera and take their own pictures of evidence since Johnny was going to be with him for awhile.

Johnny took pictures of the blood trail on the bathroom floor and the sink of red.  The sink area was spotless, everything seeming to be in place.  Johnny then informed the detective and his boss that he was going to drain the sink now.  He pulled up on the plunger and slowly the water level began to descend.  Suddenly something broke the surface of the water.  Edler looked on as slowly a human hand was revealed sitting in the sink, cut off at the wrist.  Edler began to wonder how many body parts they were going to have to catalogue.  Johnny took pictures of the hand from different angles before Edler and the lead tech turned towards the door that opened into the toilet and shower area of the bathroom.  Edler hesitated just a brief moment before placing his hand on the door knob to open the door.
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Eddie noticed for first time since he had woke up that he had a headache.  It wasn't a bad one, just one of those small ones that pounds with your heartbeat to remind you that it is there.  Sitting up he watched the traffic continue to flow by on the highway.  Cigarette.  He needed a smoke and so he got off the car and went to reach in the front window for his pack.  As he reached in he noticed that the sleeve of his shirt was covered in a dry dark dried up liquid.  He looked at it closely then slowly turned his head to look in the car.  The passenger door and seat had splotches of blood on them as did the drivers side.  He began to shake again as he quickly grabbed the pack of smokes out of the car.

He was shaking so badly that he could not open the pack of cigarettes.  His mind was racing trying to remember.  He had to remember.  At last he got the cigarettes open only to find it empty.  He stopped and leaned against the car trying to think.  It was then he noticed a highway patrol car drive past him down the highway.  He quickly took off his shirt and threw it in the backseat leaving him in a white t-shirt that was still wet with sweat.

Think. Think. Think. he kept telling himself.  Candell.  Where was Candell?  Suddenly a picture flashed through his mind.  It was a picture of a set of eyes, open wide in fright, looking side to side and growing wider by the second.  Eddie put his hands up to his face to try to block out the image.  He remembered those eyes now.  It almost seemed like they were his own, as if he were looking in a mirror.

Eddie leaned against his car and slid to the ground, his knees folding up to his chin. Those eyes were so haunting, so real.  As he sat he remembered walking into the motel room behind Candell.  They had stopped at the motel bar after dinner and both were a little off kilter.  He didn't remember having that much to drink but apparently he did.  Candell seemed to be woozy as well and they had both fallen onto the bed only because their feet could not hold them up anymore.  He was sure that nothing had happened between him and the girl as he seemed to remember falling asleep very quickly.  So why did he have this image of those eyes in his head?

After awhile Eddie stood back up to try to figure out where he was.  He walked down to the highway and looking towards the east saw a Mississippi state highway sign.  Okay, fine, he was in Mississippi. He didn't know exactly where in Mississippi he was, but at least he had a frame of reference.  He walked back to the car and sat on the hood, closing his eyes again to try to get rid of some of that headache.  He had sat for a few minutes when another image came to him.  It was the eyes again, open wide in terror but there was more.  There was the whole face of the person and he could tell it wasn't himself this time.  The mouth was wide open as if screaming then he saw two hands, one on each side of the face carrying what eventually became just a head over to a wall in a room and being set down.  The face was frozen in its silent terror and the hands that carried it looked a lot like his.  He was sure they were his hands.  What had he done?  Was it just a dream?  No, not a dream.  Dreams don't leave blood all over the inside of your car.  It seemed like his memory was coming back quicker.  Suddenly, he didn't want to remember anymore.

Eddie remembered waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of Candell coming into the room.  She had another man with her and she was holding him up on her shoulder as she walked him to the bed.  As he landed on the bed, the other man looked over at Eddie.

"Hey lady, you didn't say anything about anything, you know, like, nah lady I ain't into strange stuff.  I thought you an me were just going to, you know, have a little fun."

"Oh, we'll have some fun." Candell had said before throwing a rope over to Eddie.  "Tie him up good" she had ordered.

For some reason Eddie had felt like he had no choice but to do what Candell told him to and so he tied up the man.  After binding the man, Eddie remembered looking at Candell and seeing a smile creep across her face as she looked at Eddie.

"Now, we are going to have some fun." Candell had told Eddie as she smiled at her prisoner.

Eddie shook his head vigorously to wake himself out of the memory.  What the hell? he thought.  He started walking back and forth around the rest area.  Just walking and thinking.  Walking and not wanting to think.  He wasn't sure he wanted to remember anymore if the memories were real.  He had recognized the man he had tied up as the head that the hands had placed in the room.  It seemed like it was too real not to be a true memory.

He felt tired again suddenly and walked over to a tree and laid down in the shade. As he slept, the dreams returned and his nap was not a peaceful one.
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Edler opened the door to the main bathroom and flipped on the lights.  He instantly turned away from the scene and and held his breath, trying to keep his breakfast from coming up.  He looked at the tech and the photographer, shook his head, then turned to face the scene again.

There was a hand placed as though turning on the water in the sink.  Two feet, cut off at the ankle, stood on a towel on the floor just outside the tub.  The toilet was stuffed with upper and lower arms, disconnected from each other and the legs, cut into four pieces as the arms had been were floating in a tub full of red water.  The walls were splattered with blood along with the ceiling.  Obviously, this was where the crime had taken place.

Edler turned to leave the bathroom and go outside for some fresh air, leaving the tech and photographer to do their job.  As he walked through the room he instructed the techs if to come outside to talk to him about anything they found, at least until he got his head clear and had come to terms with what he was dealing with here.

After processing what he had seen, Edler began the walk to the office of the motel to talk to the manager hoping to find out who had been in the room the night before.  The manager was more than willing to help, excited because nothing like this had ever happened in the county as far as he could remember and here he was, right in the middle of it.  He began to answer Edler's questions before the detective even had a chance to ask them.

"Yes sir, there was two of em.  I got the register right here, now it was about seven last night when they pulled in, let's see ... umm ... a Rick and Wanda White, yes sir, Rick and Wanda White. that's what it says here.  They seemed like a pretty nice couple, her hanging on his arm and such.  I remember they went to the room to put there stuff in there before walking over there to the cafe for dinner I suppose.  They were in there an hour or so, maybe an hour and a half.  I got lots of time to observe what people do around here you know, not a lot else going on.  Anyways, they come out of the cafe and then go back to the room.  Don't know why, but they were there about an hour or so, and then they went to the bar next to the cafe.  They were in the bar for a long time.  The bar don't close until three or three thirty depending on the crowd or how tired old Joe is.  Joe is the bartender, you might want to talk to him maybe but he doesn't have the memory I have.  Anyways, I had to go back to the back room to do some paper work, end of the month you know, I have to turn in reports to the owners in Atlanta every month so that they know the place is still open and doin good business.  Anyways, I am back in the room catching up on the paper work until about, well must have been between two thirty or three and I come out here to check things over, take a look see to be sure everything is in order and such and I looked over there at their room and Mrs. White, well I am assuming she was Mrs. White, not sure if they were married or not, but anyway she is having to help him into the room.  He must have drunk a lot because he could hardly stand and she was carrying him to the room holding him up.  After she got the door shut I figured I should head to bed myself and so I did.  Didn't hear anything more until Nora, Nora is the housekeeper here, well I hear Nora let out such a scream and I looked up and Nora was running over here yelling at me to call you guys.... so I did.  Then I walked over to the room ... tell you what, I saw the TV and that was enough for me, I figured you guys can take care of the rest, so I came back here to wait on you.  Sent Nora home.  She was really shook up and wouldn't be worth a nickel the rest of the day.  I doubt if I could have even gotten her to go into another room to clean it after what she saw in the White's room.  Rick and Wanda White.... yes sir, that was their names.  I haven't seen Mrs. White this morning, she got off to somewhere in that Chevy they were driving... I mention they were driving a Chevy?  Well they were not sure what model or anything, Ford man myself, but it was a Chevy of some sort. ... well I guess that's about it, about all I know...." and he fell silent, staring at Edler as if waiting for a question.

Edler looked at the manager with vacant eyes and shook his head.  He felt like he owed it to the manager to ask at least one question.

Edler sighed and without looking up asked "What color was this Chevy?"

"Blue.  Not dark blue but not powder blue either.  I guess a lighter color of blue.  Maybe a sky blue?  somewhere between dark blue and light blue... you know... blue."

"I don't see a license plate number in the register.  Aren't you suppose to take that information when someone checks in?"

The manager looked around as if he had been caught in a crime himself.  "Well, she said couldn't remember the plate number.  Told em to come back and give it to me later.  I figured it would be okay."

"She?  The guy didn't come in here?"

"Nah," the manager pointed outside the window, "He stayed out to have a smoke while she registered."

"Thanks" Edler said as he turned to walk back to the motel room.  Although he felt like his head was spinning from the rapid fire talk of the manager, he had to hand it to him, he did a good job of observing.

"Found the poor sap's I.D." yelled one of the techs to Edler as he approached.  "Apparently he is a Richard A. White from Wakeeney, Kansas."

"What Kansas?"

"Wakeeney." the tech answered.  "I know, I never heard of it either.  Good thing is that this Wakeeney may be such a small place we won't have too much trouble tracing footprints from there to here."

Edler reached in his car and picked up the radio to tell Marla, the dispatcher at the Highway Patrol Office to put out an all points bulletin on a blue Chevy possibly with Kansas plates on it.  Marla said she would do it right away and he heard her voice come back over the radio putting out the APB for the car.

The crime scene crew had removed all the body parts by now so Edler felt comfortable going into the room.  He walked around slowly looking at everything his eyes landed on and then started going over evidence that the team had collected.  Three sets of prints, one type of blood and various other things.  There weren't any drugs, but the ashtray was filled with cigarette butts.  From the look of the furniture in the room it did not look like a struggle of any kind had taken place.  He found it curious and began to process the knowledge he had in his brain as to what might have happened.  This could be a tough case.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OKAY .... well I think I wrote enough to show myself that I can write fiction.  I will say this though, it is a bit tougher writing fiction than it is writing non-fiction.  You have to make things up.  I understand you can draw from your personal experiences to write about things that never happened but it is much easier to just write down facts as you understand them to be.  It is easier to tell a story that actually happened to me.  For those who have read my blog over the years, you probably come away thinking a lot of the time that I stretched the facts a bit, almost to the point of actually being fiction.  Guilty.  I realize I do that and I do it intentionally most of the time.  Keeps people wondering how much of what I write is virtual fact.  Writing fiction wears me out.

So to my readers, I gave you a pretty good start so that if you want you can finish it for me.  I admit the head on the television MAY have crossed the line a bit and if I were to actually finish this thing, I would probably take that out.

I started writing this over a month ago.  I haven't touched it in at least two and a half weeks.  So if you have the desire to finish it because you can't stand an unfinished story, be my guest.

Have fun.

POST NUMBER 400 - MISH MASH

Well I was just looking at some of the stats on this blog and how it has been doing since I quit writing in it regularly.  People are still reading it from around the world so I must be connecting with some people out there.  The United States still garners some readers but not as much as it use to.  The big surprise as I looked at the stats was the number of readers in Russia.

This set me back a bit.  As most of you know I am not a great fan of Vladamir Putin but I can't help but be amazed at the agenda he has worked through the halls of the Kremlin as he asserts his power not only there, but around the world.  Unfortunately, in my mind anyway, The United States has not had a leader recently that will, or could, stand up to the challenge of Putin.  Putin carries no respect for us Americans and I don't really blame him.  We have become a weakened power over the last several years.  We have a leader who talks big and then does nothing.  The current President in my mind is the real "wimp President", the moniker they hung on President Bush #41.  At any rate, Mr. Putin, I tip my hat to you.  In my eyes you have worked yourself into being the true leader in this world and you have brought Russia back to the forefront by using an aggressive foreign policy while the United States sits on our hands with what seems to be no idea of what foreign policy is.

Another stat that jumped out at me was that the last post I had written on here was my 399th post.  I am just OCD enough that the fact that it wasn't an even 400 started to really bother me.  So for my own sanity, of which there is little left, I give you post #400.

I couldn't figure out what to write about on this occasion.   Today marks the birthday of my late Uncle Melvin and my Aunt Sue.  It is also the day that the world entered the atomic age when the Enola Gay dropped that bomb on Hiroshima, Japan.  As horrible as that day in 1945 was, and as many lives that were lost, I still agree with President Truman's decision to take an aggressive step to end that War that had cost so many lives all over the world.  Take note those who see me as some sort of "noe-conservative" whatever that may be, that I just agreed with a Democratic President.   Of course that President WAS from the great State of Missouri, so take it as you will.

New day, continue writing on this, just so that you will know that I know that August 6th was the entering of the atomic age.  It is now August 7th as I write.  So to continue.....

Speaking of Missouri, I find myself with this inner distaste of Kansas.  I can't help it, I was influenced greatly by my grandfather on the matter.  The thing with Kansas is mainly one of collegiate athletics, i.e. KU vs MU.  It isn't like it use to be though.  Mizzou has joined the SEC while Kansas still calls the Big 12 home.  They don't confront each other on a regular basis anymore like they use to.  It was always the highlight of every athletic season be it football, basketball, baseball, softball, wrestling, track and field or frisbee golf, whatever the sport, if it was KU vs. MU emotions ran high on both sides of the State Line.  I live in Kansas City, MISSOURI (not Kansas) and not far enough away from the imaginary line that is known as the border between the two states.  I can leave my house and be in Kansas in about 10 minutes or so.   That is far too close for me.  Kansas City is pretty well divided between proud Tigers and rascally Jayhawks.  As you drive around the city you see cars everywhere you go extolling the virtues of one or the other institution.

Yes, I am a proud Missourian.  A true "Show Me" kid.  I believe in keeping my business and therefore my money in Missouri as much as I can.  There are times when I am forced to cross the border but only in extreme circumstances.  My grandfather use to say, and say it a lot, that "nothing good ever came out of Kansas".  I pretty much stick to that philosophy, although my grandfather's last born child was BORN in Kansas, we make an exception for my Aunt Sue.  If anything good ever DID come out of Kansas, well it had to be Sue.  Other than that, nothing good ever came out of Kansas.  Now it isn't only me that feels this way as there are plenty of Kansans that feel the same way about Missouri.  It goes back to pre-Civil War days and the actual war itself.  Missouri, while never succeeding from the Union did carry a strong support for the Confederate forces while Kansas, of course, had to do exactly the opposite of Missouri and support the Union.  I mean, Kansas wasn't even a state yet, just a territory out there beyond the civilized world of the United States, who at this time weren't so united.  Anyway, Missouri and Kansas fought our own little Civil War out here while the rest of the country was fighting back east with all the great battles and history making events.  It was okay with us.  It was a back and forth thing.  Some Jayhawkers would make a raid on Missouri destroying property and crops and do a little killing, then the next week some Missouri Ruffians would cross over and do a return raid in Kansas, doing some looting and destroying of property and a little killing.  The proudest moment as far as the Misourians were concerned was when they burned the town of Lawrence, Kansas to the ground.  Kansas got revenge by making the rebuilt Lawrence home of the KU Jayhawks.  Well played my Kansas neighbors ... well played.

Missouri was sympathetic to the south in the war for a reason.  Missouri was a slave state.  Not really proud of that part of my state's history, but it is a fact none the less.  There is a reason for this as the southeast corner of the state, known as the "boot heel" was and still is a huge producer of cotton.  The whole slave idea started down there and was taken up by the rest of the state because I guess they thought it sounded like a good idea.  The strange thing is, Iowa, Nebraska, Arkansas or Illinois doesn't really get the attention from Missouri like Kansas does.  It is Kansas and Missouri and even though the universities are no longer in the same conference and do not play each other on a regular basis, that little hitch will always be there I suppose.  It isn't the same since Missouri left the Big 12.  We don't have that rivalry that gets your juices flowing like we had with Kansas.  I mean, it is really hard to work up a dislike for Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, Arkansas, Louisiana, or South Carolina.  You just kind of, well, you kind of feel sorry for them being stuck in the south all these years, being the butt of a whole nation's jokes .... it really is kind of sad.  SO the SEC went out and recruited Missouri to the conference to try to give it some class.  Well, we do as much as we can for them, but there is only so much your shoulders can carry, and that is a lot of history that they are trying to class up by bringing Missouri into the fold.  An example of how we are trying to class up the southeastern United States in college athletics is this.  Louisiana State University has as their mascot the Tiger.  They have been the LSU Tigers forever and also forever, their colors have been purple and gold.  Then there is Auburn University in the state of Alabama.  They also use the Tiger as their mascot.  Auburn colors"  ORANGE and BLUE.  (as an aside, Auburn is even worse off then LSU as their battle cry is a hearty "WAR EAGLE".  I haven't made the connection yet between the eagle and the tiger, but .. well ... Alabama is all that needs to be said).  THIS is why they need Missouri University in that prestigious conference.  Mizzou also has the Tiger as our mascot.  THREE tigers in one conference, but you'll see why they needed the third tiger in the next sentence.  Mizzou colors?  BLACK AND GOLD people.  Kind of like a real Tiger is.  Who has EVER seen a purple Tiger or even worse, an orange and blue tiger?  A lot less people then have seen a black and yellow tiger, I can tell you that.  So really, bringing Mizzou into the SEC served as a sort of lesson, to show them what reality is.

(As an aside ... I am not really sure what a Jayhawk is.  Some fictitious  cartoon bird of sorts that someone made up while high on hemp and probably in a Lawrence dorm room.)

While we are on the subject of the southeastern United States, There is one thing I want to make perfectly clear.  It is truly beautiful country down there.  The southeastern United States has been blessed with lots of forest land, rolling hills to small mountains and coast lines that rival the Oregon Coast in my opinion.  I know that every part of the country is beautiful in it's own way and for different reasons (even Kansas has a beauty about it.  You have to look and drive for many miles before you stumble on it, but it is out there, or so I am told) but the southeast is really special.  Atlanta looks more the Emerald City in the OZ books than anything in Kansas does.  They also have a rich culture that continues to endure through the ages and all the changes that come with the passing of time.  The people who live in the southeast are among the friendliest people you will come across.  At the same time they are a very proud citizenry who are not afraid of speaking their minds about any subject.  For example, I discovered after I began to travel to the south with some regularity, that the Confederacy actual won the Civil War!  It is true.  They told me so.  After whipping the Union and teaching the northern states a lesson in how to whup-ass, they decided to let the union rejoin them.  As far as the south was concerned, mission accomplished.  All they required was that the south be able to return to the White House every once in awhile to keep things on the up and up, you know, make the war worthwhile.  So we got Presidents like Johnson, Carter, Clinton and daddy Bush and sonny Bush to keep things right.  They tried to get George Wallace in there but that was going a little too far for the northern states to agree with.  The southerners that they did send to the White House are not your typical southern politicians.  If you want an idea of a typical southern politician, look up George Wallace or Lester Maddox.  You'll get the point I am sure.  Actually now that I think about it, President Clinton was about the closest thing they came to as far as putting a real southern politician in the White House and he was from Arkansas, which isn't the heart of Dixie, so in some minds, he doesn't count as a southerner but then again, they don't claim Johnson or the Bush boys either.  It is what ti is.  President Clinton can understand what that phrase means now that he has had the definition of "is" explained to him during his Grand Jury testimony.

Upon entering my third day on this entry, I have decided that it will be the longest post in the blog.  It could have already reached that point but I want to make sure.

So let's talk tattoos.  The world has gone tattoo crazy.  I guess that all of the strange piercings in various body parts have lost the shock value so now people are turning to trying to squeeze as many tattoos on their bodies as possible.  When I was growing up seeing a tattoo was something that didn't come along very often.  You could easily assume that the man, and yes I do mean "man" as you never saw a woman with a tattoo, was one of three things.  He was either in the military, an ex-con ( or current one), or a biker or other gang member.  Even then the tattoos were not over done.  You could see see skin between them.  One or two tats on the arm and shoulder, maybe on on the chest.  That was about it.  I don't know what the situation is for my Russian readers, but here in the United States it is just about as far out of control as it can get.hae

I do not approach the subject of tattoos from a holier than thou position as I sport a tattoo myself.  Granted it isn't much of a tattoo.  I got it when I was in the seventh grade of school.  I gave it to myself, which I must say today's kids probably don't have the guts to do.  I wrote an entry on this blog about my tattoo.  It was an accidental tattoo.  I was in science class and somehow stuck my blue ink pen into the palm of my hand.  I am not sure quite Why or how I did it, but it got me a trip to the nurses office.  The tat still resides in the palm of my left hand.  It is a tiny tiny blue dot.  I would have to look for it and then point it out to you if you wanted to see it.

Today people walk around looking like human coloring books or comic books.  I just don't get it.  Okay a small tat in a not so obvious place, maybe an inch or two square, to make a statement about yourself or something you believe in, fine.  A friend of mine who's daughter died when she was fourteen years old had her name tattoo'd on his forearm.  Totally understandable to me.  This covering as much of yourself as you can and keep adding to it by getting even more tattoos to cover even more of your body seems to me to be saying something about ones self esteem issues.  That is just my personal opinion.  It seems that if you are hiding as much of yourself so that you can look like a coloring or comic book instead of who you really are, you may not think too highly of yourself.  Just throwing that out there.

Let's see now ... next quick topic....OH ... ok The Westboro Baptist Church.  Of all the hate filled churches or religions, Westboro has to be listed towards the top of the list.  According to their beliefs everyone is going to hell who is not a member of their church.  Not only your standard list of heathens that religion typical go after, like homosexuals, devil worshipers and Catholics, but everyone and anyone.  Members of the United States Military are certainly going to hell along with artists, movie makers, and virtually anyone else.

The leader of the church died earlier this year.  Fred Phelps was the driving force behind the church.  The vast majority of church members were members of the Phelps family.  It was like they would have heaven all to themselves.  Who better to spend eternity with than a bunch of hate filled holier than thou people who are all related.

After Phelps died, I wrote a blog entry on where the church would be going now that their leader was dead.  So far his death has been a good thing.  Third generation members of the family have left the fold, condemning themselves to hell of course.  I wonder how they feel not having to hold that hate in their lives on a 24/7 basis.  The church has been pretty quiet and I can't recall but one or two protests they have done since Fred Phelps' death.  The days of Westboro may be finally over.  We can only hope so.

Now a little bonus on baseball.  Not only on baseball but on two situations going on  in baseball right now.  First case: the Kansas City Royals.  While I am a huge fan of the Chicago Cubs, I am just as huge of a fan of the Royals.  It has been 29 years since that great World Series in which the Royals beat St. Louis in seven.  That year, 1985, also marked the beginning of the downfall of the Royals as a consistent contender.  Now after 29 years, it is mid-August and the Kansas City Royals hold a play off spot for right now AND they are only ONE GAME OUT OF FIRST PLACE in the American League Central.  Mid-August and one game out.  They have to hold it together for just a month and half to be in the play offs once again.  To once again take that proud organization into the realm of being a contender.  No one really saw this coming but no one in Kansas City is complaining either.

The second situation: The Little League Regionals have begun.  This is a bunch of 12 year old kids who play for the right to make it to the Little League World Series.  If you love kids or if you love baseball, do your best to try to tune in and watch these kids play ball.  It has always been one of my favorite porting events.  These kids are GOOD.  Kids don't hide their emotions as well as the major league players do and so you get to see the true love of the sport on these kids faces when something goes good, or when things go horribly wrong.  Just take my advice and catch a game or two.  I promise you will be hooked on it and watch it through to the end of the series when a group of 12 year olds will be named the best in the world.  It is extremely exciting.

Well I think I am finally going to wrap up this 400th post.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.  Post number 401 won't be far behind.  I am taking a year off from writing in this blog to devote myself to another blog which covers something I have been wanting to do for a long time.  In the other blog, I am posting the lyrics to a song every day for a year.  The idea is for you as well as myself to understand what some of these songs are about, without being influenced by the melody or the name of the artists who do the performing.  It is just the words and in many songs, the words are very meaningful but we miss that meaning by getting caught up in the melodies or the talent of the singers and musicians.  It is out chance to find the deeper meaning of songs that we probably all know by heart, but never take the time to think of the words.

You can find the other blog at the following address:  http://wm-clark1.blogspot.com/  .

I do hope you will visit it and read some of the songs that have filled all of our lives over the years.

Take care readers ... especially my Russian readers.  Really glad to have y'all along for the ride.

Later.

WHC

Modern Man - George Carlin

I’m a modern man
A man for the millennium
Digital and smoke free

A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist
Politically anatomically and ecologically incorrect

I’ve been uplinked and downloaded
I’ve been inputted and outsourced
I know the upside of downsizing
I know the downside of upgrading

I’m a high tech lowlife
A cutting edge state-of-the-art bicoastal multitasker
And I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond

I’m new wave but I’m old school
And my inner child is outward bound
I’m a hot wired heat seeking warm hearted cool customer
Voice activated and biodegradable

I interface from a database
And my database is in cyberspace

So I’m interactive
I’m hyperactive
And from time-to-time
I’m radioactive

Behind the eight ball
Ahead of the curve
Riding the wave
Dodging a bullet
Pushing the envelope

I’m on point
On task
On message
And off drugs

I got no need for coke and speed
I got no urge to binge and purge

I’m in the moment
On the edge
Over the top
But under the radar

A high concept
Low profile
Medium range ballistic missionary
A street-wise smart bomb
A top gun bottom feeder

I wear power ties
I tell power lies
I take power naps
I run victory laps

I’m a totally ongoing big foot slam dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach

A raging workaholic
A working rageaholic
Out of rehab
And in denial

I got a personal trainer
A personal shopper
A personal assistant
And a personal agenda

You can’t shut me up
You can’t dumb me down
‘Cause I’m tireless
And I’m wireless

I’m an alpha male on beta blockers
I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever
Laid back but fashion forward
Up front
Down home
Low rent
High maintenance
Super size
Long lasting
High definition
Fast acting
Oven ready
And built to last

I’m a hands on
Footloose
Knee jerk
Head case
Prematurely post-traumatic
And I have a love child who sends me hate mail

But I’m feeling
I’m caring
I’m healing
I’m sharing
A supportive bonding nurturing primary care giver

My output is down
But my income is up
I take a short position on the long bond
And my revenue stream has its own cash flow

I read junk mail
I eat junk food
I buy junk bonds
I watch trash sports
I’m gender specific
Capital intensive
User friendly
And lactose intolerant

I like rough sex
I like tough love
I use the f word in my email
And the software on my hard drive is hard core, no soft porn

I bought a microwave at a mini mall
I bought a mini van in a mega store
I eat fast food in the slow lane

I’m toll free
Bite sized
Ready to wear
And I come in all sizes

A fully equipped
Factory authorized
Hospital tested
Clinically proven
Scientifically formulated medical miracle

I’ve been pre-washed
Pre-cooked
Pre-heated
Pre-screened
Pre-approved
Pre-packaged
Post-dated
Freeze-dried
Double-wrapped
Vacuum-packed
And I have an unlimited broadband capacity

I’m a rude dude
But I’m the real deal
Lean and mean
Cocked, locked and ready to rock
Rough tough and hard to bluff

I take it slow
I go with the flow
I ride with the tide
I got glide in my stride
Drivin’ and movin’
Sailin’ and spinnin’
Jivin’ and groovin’
Wailin’ and winnin’

I don’t snooze
So I don’t lose
I keep the pedal to the metal
And the rubber on the road

I party hearty
And lunch time is crunch time

I’m hanging in
There ain’t no doubt
And I’m hanging tough
Over and out.

LITERATURE IDIOT - DAVID COPPERFIELD

Contrary to popular belief I do read some fiction.  My favorite fiction author is John Steinbeck.  I have also read and love the books of Sinclair Lewis, Upton Sinclair and Charles Dickens.  Dickens books were all written in with very similar circumstances to them.  My favorite book of Dickens was DAVID COPPERFIELD.  The character of David seemed to parallel my thoughts and wishes quite a bit.  It is a good story of the life of a boy who grows into manhood and makes something of himself in spite of all odds stacked against him.

Recently I had the opportunity to view the 1935 film version of the novel.  While watching the movie it occurred to me what an idiot David Copperfield really was.  He surrounded himself with people who were con artists, totally mad, or immature beyond belief.  You realize that these people are this way when you read the book but when you see the movie it totally comes at you like a blinding light.

First you have Aunt Betsey.  She is delusional and the one thing that she can not stand are donkeys walking down the road in front of her house.  As far as I know it is a public road but each time a donkey comes by her house she grabs a broom and runs out to chase the animals, and their owner, away getting them away from her house as quickly as possible.  She does not seem to mind any other form of life walking down the road, just donkeys.  Where does this aversion to donkeys come from?  We do not know but it does show that she is a little off by her actions.

She lives with her boarder Mr. Dick.  Personally I think Mr. Dick may be a metaphor of some sort but none the less Mr. Dick is more than a few bricks shy of a full load.  He is a full load shy of a full load.  This is the person that Aunt Betsey goes to for advice on a constant basis throughout the book.  Mr. Dick has to stop and think about the simplest of questions and brings forth the most common easy answer that there could be.  Mr. Dick is a total loser.

These are the two people that begin to raise David as a child.  Soon he is discharged to the services of Mr. Murdstone who is in charge of Davids education.  He is a hard man who forces David to study every waking minute of the day.  If David does not prove that he has learned his lessons, he is whipped with a cane of sorts.  Perhaps this did help David learn but it had to effect him mentally a bit which can perhaps explain why he continues to hang around this cast of outcasts, as it were.  He meets Agnes Wickfield somewhere along in here and she falls in love with David at a very early age. She is the daughter of a man that David goes to work for.  A stockbroker in modern times I would assume.  Agnes will be the most sane and proper person of all of the characters in David's life.

David then meets Mr. McCawber.  In the film McCawber is rightfully played by W.C. Fields.  He is a procrastinator extraordinaire who has an strong aversion to work and is always hiding from his creditors.  At one point he does end up in debtors prison but David is there to get him out.  David spends all of his time during the whole of the book keeping McCawber out of trouble and McCawber never seems to change..

Then there is Uriah Heep.  He is a slimey dog of a character who is extremely manipulative and is the one person that David does not seem to stay friends with.  Not to say that David did not try to be friends with Heep because he did.  It isn't until late in the movie that David realizes what scum Heep is and turns on him to save Mr. Wickfields business.

There is Steerforth who David went to boarding school with, or college we would call it these days.  Steerforth is a very bright man with no morals at all.  He ends up running off with Alice Peggoty, stealing her away from her fiance only to dump her in the middle of Europe when he got tired of her.  Alice tries to kill herself and ends up committed for life in an asylum.  The Peggoty family were another of the few normal characters in the book.  Peggoty was Davids nurse when he was young and living with his Aunt Betsey..  She took good care of David and gave sound advice to him.  Problem was that there aren't many opportunities for her to give David advice so her worth is mostly discounted through out the novel.

Then there comes the lovely Dora.  David falls in love with her at first sight.  This presents probably the best argument for not falling in love at first sight.  Dora was one of the most immature people I have ever read about in a novel.  I am counting Mr. Dick in this novel as well as Lenny in OF MICE AND MEN and a host of other immature characters.  The woman, or girl, that David decides to marry is a total waste of space and she plays David like a fine violin.  When she dies towards the end of the book you almost want to applaud.  It is here where David makes his most intelligent move during his whole life.  After Dora dies, he marries the mature and down to earth, free yet right thinking Agnes Wickfield.  He should have been with her during the entirety of the book.

Now, there is a lot more to this novel than what I have written.  I have just hit upon some of the more obvious things that David went through that really made his life more difficult than it had to be.  He started out behind and down.  He had a long road to travel before becoming successful but he kept hanging around all of these people who dragged him back into the situation he had pulled himself out of.  I determined after watching that movie that David Copperfield was one of the most idiotic success stories ever written in literature.  If he had a half of a brain he would have left and never come back in order to live a sane life with mature people who didn't have half their wits gone.

I know what will be said, it was his strength to hold onto to the love of the people who formed his life and to help those people when they had difficult times.  Maybe so.  How many times is one man expected to continue to bail out those who refuse to do for themselves?  Mr. McCawber is a fine example of that.

What really hangs the crown of an idiot on David's head is marrying that immature baby named Dora when Agnes was right there ready to become his wife at the drop of a hat.  That one event shows the blindness of David Copperfield to reality and what he should have done to have a safe and happy life.

I like to think that after he discovered the immorality of Steerforth, after Dora had finally died, After Heep had finally been put in his place and the Wickfields saved, and after McCawber finally seemed to take a little responsibility, that David and Agnes Copperfield went to England and lived a quiet and productive life together, putting the entire past behind him.  Unless he could put the entire past behind him, he would be miserable on a daily basis worry about all those quirky people he had left behind in his child hood.  I would like to think he didn't even go back to visit Dora's grave.  If he did go back to visit her grave I would hope it would be to put a head stone down that said something to the effect of "Here lies Dora, a totally selfish and immature girl who sucked my soul almost dry before she finally died."

Maybe I am cynical.  Maybe I was just in a bad or strange mood when I watched the movie.  I know I had never seen David Copperfield this way before.  I had always admired him for getting out of his dire situation and making a success of himself.  That is part of the joy of reading a Dickens novel.  But the night I watched this movie from 1935, all I could think of was what an idiot he was and continued to be until the closing credits.

WRITER'S BLOCK (RAMBLE ON)

I figure if Jerry Seinfeld can have a successful show about nothing then I can have a blog entry about nothing.  So that is what this is.  A Blog entry about why there is no blog entry today.

Writer's block.  I suppose everyone is faced with this now and again.  I remember many times in school when I would have to write an essay about something that my mind would come up blank.  I had some emergency topics in the back of my mind but it didn't seem right to waste them at that particular time.  That is much the way I feel today.  I do have topics that will make for very good posts, but they need time to be written and to be honest, today doesn't leave much time for thoughtful writing.

I promise that in the future, I will write about some topics that will hopefully bring you enjoyment or thoughtfulness as you read them.  Some are about family, some are about me and some are about thoughts that cross my mind every so often and make me think.

Today I am not thinking so well so I feel it is best not to write on a topic when I can not do it justice.  Why am I not thinking so well today.  Well, there are lots of factors.  One factor is that I am tired.  I have been sleeping a lot lately but apparently it is not good deep sleep that allows my brain to rest.  My anxiety has been rather high as of late and of course that doesn't help.  The job her at the office is going at breakneck speed which is why this will be a short entry.  I have a few minutes to throw something about nothing down but not much more than that.

There have been some issues in the family which have been bothering me and distracting my mind from forming a good story line.  Family can get in your way almost more than anything although most of what I write about is biographical and so the family is either directly in the tale or plays a huge role as background for the story.  I can't write just anything about the family though.  I have to be aware of feelings of others so that I don't hurt anyone by i=using words that can be misinterpreted.  This happened once in the extreme early days of this blog and I ended up deleting the post and I think that was the proper thing to do.

I have been feeling alone a lot.  No, alone is not the word.  Maybe lonely would be better.  No, I feel alone.  I feel like even though I am surrounded by people I am not seen or heard.  I guess I can be fairly complicated at times and it seems like even the people who know me the best do not really know me or understand me.  When a person feels like this they do indeed feel alone and they are left by themselves with their own thoughts inside their mind.  Thoughts that can be damaging or helpful but either way there is no sharing these thoughts because they are stuck inside.  I have a lot of thoughts stuck inside of my mind but I don't dare let them loose upon the world.  Not at this time anyway.

I went to church with Barb yesterday.  I enjoy going to church.  A lot of churches can get clickish but Barb's church is not big enough to get that way yet.  Church politics can be awful at times bringing about actions that the Bible would express disdain for.  But again, Barb's church is not big enough to have these political ideas floating around under the surface.  It is a good church.  One of the best I have ever attended.  I actually do feel like a part of it and it wasn't so very long ago I truly thought I would never feel like I was a part of a church again.  Not too long ago I wouldn't even want to be a part of a church.  This church is different though and I enjoy it.  The pastor is intelligent and a very good thinker and when he presents a sermon you can't help but engage your mind to thinking about what the topic is whether you agree with it or not.  Now that I think about it, I suppose I am a part of a church once again.  Not a bad feeling.

I have come to know the people there and have developed a caring attitude about them.  They face problems like everyone else.  Some of the problems are worse than others but they are human problems and this church seems to pull together and face the problems as one.  This is very rare in this day and age of "Looking out for me" thinking.

Sometimes the things that are in my head are a little scary.  Sometimes they seem stupid.  As you age you learn that things that use to be extremely important don't really make much of a difference in the larger scheme of this thing we call life.  Life is complicated enough without throwing all the little things into the mix.  Sometimes I can't help but wonder what gives us the drive inside ourselves to even want to keep on living.  Sometimes it seems so pointless to be alive.  Other times, however, you experience something and you can't help but think how grand life is.  Life is simply another puzzle of the brain I guess.

I take pills to keep me from thinking about life too much.  I guess I take the pills to keep me from thinking about the lack of life too much.  Either way I am tired of taking pills.  Pills tend to make me something I am not.  It's always been that way.  But in keeping me from being something I am not, they also kept me safe.  Safe meaning alive.  I feel that since I started writing in this blog maybe it is doing my mind as much good as the pills do.  When I write my mind is active and engaged.  I have been able to recall some good times that had been erased from my memory.  Surely this is good for me.

I am not a writer and I make no pretense as being one.  I am a simple story teller and most of those stories are not a product of my imagination but a product of reality as I remember it.  I want to be a writer, but then I want to be an artist too.  Can't really say I am either of those things.  I got into my current line of work because it was the only way I could draw things that made sense.  Now I don't even get to draw as everything is done on a computer.  There are days that I go without even picking up a pencil.

God chose not to give me the skills for two things I want to do most so where does that leave me?  What am I suppose to do then?  I have no idea.  I wish I did.

I think I know what I have to do.  I have to come to the realization that nobody is absolutely needed for any particular thing.  There is always somebody else to step in and do whatever it is if you die or quit working at doing whatever it is.  I do what I do.  I enjoy what I do.  But when the time comes, there will be someone waiting to step in and take over and the fact that I once was needed will be forgotten because I, like everyone, am not absolutely needed.for anything.

So that is my blog entry about nothing.  Nothing I wrote should be taken too seriously or too lightly.  It is just a bunch of words that total up to nothing except something to cause us all to stop and give pause and to think.

George Carlin - Quote 10

When taking leave of one another, we often say, "Be well."  Perhaps we should be more precise and a bit more practical.  Reasonably, we can't expect everyone to healthy all the time.  Good wishes should be more realistic:

"I hope you remain reasonably healthy during the next eighteen months or so, and if you have a stroke, I hope it only paralyzes you on one side, leaving you free to take phone calls."

I think people would appreciate such thoughtfulness and precision.

Bill Hicks - Quote 3

"Oswald couldn't have done it from that window...... unless some pigeons came by and picked him up by his feet and flew him over the motorcade... you know, there were reports of anti-Castro pigeons in a bar the night before the assassination and someone overheard them saying 'coo... coo....'"

-Bill Hicks-

George Carlin - Quote 7

You men.... The next time a prostitute solicits your business, ask for the clergymen's rate.

Bill Hicks - Quote 2

They've proved that if you quit smoking it will prolong your life..... what they haven't proved is that a prolonged life is a good thing

KUBRICK AND STRANGELOVE - DID WE LEARN?

The Bay of Pigs, the Berlin Wall and the Cuban Missile Crisis were all indications that the Cold War was heating up.  Stanley Kubrick was very aware of what could happen and began studying on his own the effects of thermo-nuclear war.  Kubrick began making one of his three masterpieces, 'Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned Not To Worry And To Love the Bomb'. It is still recognized as one of the best films in history today.  It was a satire film designed to make the American people aware of how foreign countries can effect our way of living and how events can lead to a nuclear war that could end life on the planet.

The film is based on a rogue general who begins a nuclear attack on the Russians because they are putting fluoride in our water compromising our precious bodily fluids.  The Russians never drink water opting instead for round after round of vodka.  Kubrick describes how all the fail safes designed to prevent an nuclear attack can actually work against the prevention of such an attack by the fail safes being used to prevent the recall of such an attack.

Was Kubrick successful?  Did we learn the lesson that Kubrick was trying to teach us?  In the film, one plane, piloted by Slim Pickens makes it through the barriers because it is damaged by a Russian missile during its flight.  The plane is forced to fly below the radar and thus makes it past the Russian defense that has been given approval by the President of the United States for the Russians to destroy any American planes not obeying the recall of the attack.  Pickens runs into all kinds of problems with his plane because of the missile attack.  The final problem is that the bomb bay doors will not open so Pickens goes down to the belly of the aircraft and while sitting on one of the bombs, fixes the problem and the doors open.  Shortly thereafter the plane releases the bomb and we see Pickens riding the bomb down until it detonates.  This sets off a Russian "doomsday machine" which is designed to destroy all life on the planet.

Meanwhile back in Washington, a Nazi like adviser to the President, Dr. Strangelove, develops a plan and presents it to the president on how the American civilization can survive by going underground for one hundred years and develop a master race of Americans during the underground period.  Sharp satire indeed comparing the American war machine to Nazi Germany just twenty years after the end of World War Two.

The film was released in late January of 1964 and Kubrick's film began trying to educate the American public.  Did Stanly Kubrick succeed?


Over the history of our country, numerous artists, writers, and film makers have tried to warn us that our position and power can bring about our destruction if we are not alert and aware of the dangers presented to us.  As many before him tried to do, Kubrick sent a message that has largely been ignored by the American public and Government since 1964.

What is the indicator that we did not receive Kubrick's message and warning to us?  We still allow the Russians to covertly fluoridate our water supply sapping and compromising all of America's precious bodily fluids.