Solstice Shopping

The season has come upon us.  Wife and I sort of push back a little against the celebration of the season.
I am very much a sentimental old softy about Christmas.  I push back a little in the area of pressure and deadlines.  I know that the stores set up xmas products before Halloween,  so when I saw that happen I was ready for it.  Not shocked.  But "holiday creep" happened again this year.  "Black Friday"  is now known by all,  but has been expanded to the evening of Thanksgiving.  So now while you are actually, virtually, celebrating Thanksgiving,  you are indeed Christmas shopping.  But that's not all.  "Cyber Monday" has now become "Cyber Week".  In keeping the pressure off,  I have never participated in these shopping holidays.  I don't care how many shopping days are left before Xmas.  And I usually shop on Christmas day.   There is a little liquor store near me that is open on Christmas.  And wines and spirits make great gifts.   During the season I usually get myself a few gifts while I am at it.  It turns out I'm really good at buying myself stuff.   Actually I get that kind of shopping done early.  As far as stuff for me,  my xmas shopping is done already!  I feel good about that.  I can check it off.    We packed up a box of stuff for our son.  He lives in California.  We bought him stuff from Target,  Radio Shack,  WalMart, Walgrens.  It's in the mail now.  A few years back I bought a really nice artificial xmas tree.  It was high end price wise and I bought it after xmas for pennies on the dollar.  It has never been opened and I won't be setting it up this year.

I usually have a favorite Christmas Carol every year.  I think this year it will be "Run Run Rudolph".
This song was by Chuck Berry and was featured in the movie "Home Alone" from 1990.
The song was circa 1958.  I noticed something about the lyrics.  The author refers to two Korean War era aircraft.  The "Saber Jet"  (which was the F86)  and the "Shooting Star" (which was the F-80).




There's a new Christmas carol out this year. I saw it on the internet. I don't expect it will catch on.

It's a song defending Christmas from those who would dare  to celebrate a different winter holiday,  or none at all.  The lyrics tell the listener if they see a "happy holiday" sign in a store window,  they should walk by the store and not enter.  If they are in a store and are greeted with "seasons greetings",  they should walk out of the store.  The listener is told there is only one winter holiday.  The birth of J. Christ.

I know that fundamental Christians don't like people asking them to adjust their Christmas celebrations in public.  They are happy and proud about their religion and their holiday.  And rightly so.  Are they truly happy with good will toward men if they believe that the winter season can only be celebrated in terms of their  god?  By not acknowledging the phrase "seasons greetings" and being put off by it,  it seems to me the fundamentalist is showing fear and insecurity at a time when everyone is just trying to have a nice holiday season.  The winter solstice is the longest night of the year.  Everyone on our planet can enjoy the knowledge and feeling of the promise of spring.  So let's celebrate.  Why play "my god's better than yours" when we're all just trying to light up the long winter's night.   Christians have to be constantly reminded that they don't own history,  and they don't own the seasons.

To all my friends:  Baptists,  Hindus,  Druids, Atheists.  Happy Holidays .

LLITTY       :::::+:::::

It Doesn't Matter Who Wins the Election

I'm long overdue for a political rant.  This one will be somewhat bipartisan. Maybe.  In terms of the big coming election,  the conventions are over.  The catty primary spats are over.  We're 6 weeks or so away from the big day.  There will be no significant third party or fourth party threat.  No spoiler to swing the election.  Just the incumbent and the challenger.  Both candidates call it a "clear choice".  Is it? 

We all know,  and everyone keeps saying, that both candidates are waging a war of advertising against each other that will go on for the next six weeks.  Hundreds of millions of dollars.  Both sides are being bought.  Both sides are being invested in by the gigantic Wall Street international banking and cooperate oligarchy. Both candidates are beholdened to those who gave them money.  We all know this in a bipartisan way.  Your candidate and mine are bought and they owe.

It doesn't matter who the President is.  The financial world will run the country and control the government.
Can this be changed?  Anything is possible.  But from where I sit,  I don't see how.

There are a lot of books coming out right now about the shrinking middle class.  It didn't happen because of eight years of George Bush.  It didn't happen because of 3.5 years of President Obama.   It didn't happen because of Democrats or Republicans.  It happened because of normal human behavior.  Should we be surprised that people are greedy and want to take everything for themselves?  We are surprised,  but we shouldn't be.  We Homo sapiens are stupid.  Very stupid.  Being greedy is the least of our problems!  We kill each other over territory.  We kill each other over  imaginary gods in the sky we believe in.  We are stupid.  That is why we can't eliminate starvation and war.  So of course!  we can't stop the shrinking of the middle class.  It's just human behavior.  Are we a thousand years away from having relations with our fellow man where the bottom line in disagreement is not violence?

How long will the Human Race survive?  Of all species of critter ever on the planet,  99 percent are extinct.
What is the probability that humans will be around long enough to learn not commit violence against one another?  Let alone set up a society where all creatures are treated fairly.  We are stupid,  we are greedy and we are violent.

Do I sound negative?  I just want to be rational.

We are stupid.  We argue about whether "global warming",  more softly called "climate change",  is going to be caused by man or caused by cycles of hot and cold.  Or will radiation from war weapons kill the atmosphere?  These things are bad.  But they are not bad for the Planet.  It only takes a few degrees hotter or colder to make Man extinct.  The Planet will do just fine without Man.  A forest fire is a tragedy for Man, and some critters,  not the Planet. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is:  We are going to go ahead and kill each other.  We are going to go ahead and cook the planet until we kill ourselves.  We are going to go ahead and wipe out the middle class and end the U.S. as we know it.  It won't be because of who wins the 2012 election!

Let me end with a ray of hope.  I think it's a huge ray of hope.  We are learning facts at a very fast rate.  We are sending these facts around the world in seconds due to our World Wide Internet.  If a new Genome is discovered from some unknown species and it sheds light on who we are,  we can all know about it the next day.  If we know more about ourselves we may not need or want to kill each other.

I  met a very smart young PhD the other day,  and we were chatting about evolution and how half of America prefers the Garden of Eden story.  I told the professor folks could look at how our bodies are larger just since WW2.  Then he said "Oh well,  you can prove natural selection over lots of generations in the lab.  Can do it in a few weeks."  I said "Go on".  He said,  "Well yes,  you get some grad students and some fruit flies and you raise the temperature in their container and half of them die.  You take the survivors and let them multiply a few generations and then repeat the experiment by raising the temperature again and so on.  Instant heat resistant fruit flies.  Mutation,  natural selection.  No big deal."   We talked about my dogs,  and our  mutual friend Professor Mike,  and what we were having for dinner etc.  But I remembered the fruit flies and the ray of hope not just for the next four years,  but for as long as man is on this Planet. 
If fear, superstition, and hate,  and the clinging to old wrong ideas can fade away,  there is a chance that science and technology can teach us humans  we are all in this together on the planet we all share as we hurtle through space and time.

LLITTY     ::::+::::

We Think of Him Often, Remember Him Well

For some reason I feel like writing with a Canadian accent.  My father was Canadian.  He called the Montreal hockey team the "Cana-dee-aans".  And he would end a sentence with "do you see?"  or eah?  We had a back yard hockey rink when I was a kid in New Jersey.  We'd had a few pretty cold winters strung together for a few years.  My dad had terraced off  the back yard to make a level grass court.  He would flood it in the winter with hot and cold water from the house.  It wasn't very big but we had some little hockey games and lots of neighbors came over to skate.  My dad could really skate.  He had played a few seasons of semi pro when he was young and it was in another world.  On our little rink I don;t remember   him ever skating forward,  except once when I asked him to just go fast.  He just ran across the rink on the toes of his skates.  He was 56 years old then.  Later when I was in junior high,  he taught me rifle shooting.  And he was a pilot too.  He was long out of that by the time I started flying.  But it seemed he added a lot of input and influence and encouragement to my flying career.  When I started flight instructing I think he was proud of me.  He had instructed during the war in the civilian program.  I wasn't thinking of a career really.  I was 22 years old and assumed I was immortal and knew everything.  But my father used to tell me flying stories and they always had a moral.  Usually a safety warning.  But when I got that instructor rating he gave me his professional advice.  He told me there were only three ways to make money in aviation.  And instructing wasn't one of them!  Get into crop dusting (he called it spraying);  sales; or the major airlines.  That's it son.  He taught my brothers and I how to play chess.  We kept trying to change the rules and make it more fun and play war with the pieces like toy soldiers.  He would not let us do that.  He made us be quiet and respect the game.  We would also try to just take each others men in a sloppy chess battle.  He would have none of that either.  Either go for the checkmate or he puts the game away.  Put the game away.  When we got rowdy he used to say "put it up".  He would sometimes play harmonica and sing old songs.  Really old songs.  We would sit by the fireplace and sing songs.  But my father would only want to hear the old ballads.

My older brother has been playing chess for 56 years.  He's been a rated player for maybe 25 years.  He got the bug from Dad.

My younger brother played guitar and sang ballads professionally for many years and is still in the music business.  He got the bug from Dad.

I'm the pilot.  I got the bug from Dad.

I have a sister too.  She is the oldest.  The first born.  She is like our mother.  Very sweet,  kind, gracious,  sympathetic, tender,  beautiful.   But Mom wouldn't have had the drive or focus or will to go to law school and become a successful attorney.  Sister got that from Dad.

It's almost 2AM.  What shoud I do Dad,  keep sitting at the computer?
"Put it up!"

LLITTY     :::::+:::::

111 Days To Go

A heat wave. A stalled economy.  A drought. A deadlocked congress.  This is like something of an an ancient mariner's epic.  There was a lot of political jazz to listen to during the Republican primary. It was fun.  Now we're just waiting for something,  anything,  to happen before November.  I know a way to spice it all up!  Tell you at the end of this post. The next pseudo- event I guess is Romney picking a VP.  But the short list isn't really very interesting.  What if Romney picked Chris Christie?  I know, I know, Christie wouldn't do it.  I'm saying what if.  It would then be a great ticket.  All you would have to do then is switch the candidates position so that Christie would be the nominee and Romney the VP.  Then of course Christie would want to pick his own VP and it sure as hell wouldn't be Romney.  Then  Romney would be off the table and Obama would be defeated.  In a piss poor economy the incumbent is pretty easy to beat.  But you simply need a good candidate.  Romney just isn't that good.  He might just win anyway.  But why not play it safe and put a better guy up against Obama?  Is it too late?  I don't know how a "brokered convention" works.  But it would sure be exciting.  Imagine a Republican challenger with the core and the moderates behind him.  With an aura of excitement about him and the wind at his back.  Then you could win.  Not maybe win.

It's amazing to me how polarised the electorate is now.  And more so every year.  I think Obama is a polarizing force.  Because there is a bloc of folks who will never ever ever vote for Obama.  No matter what.  They simply hate Obama.  Part of it is race of course.  But Hillary Clinton as a candidate was the same way.  With conservatives you have an unbending stance.  In a previous blog post I was sniffing around this concept of division and the line drawn in the sand of polarization.  I said things like "haves and have nots".  "Democrat vs Republican" Liberal vs Conservative".  I want to go one little tiny step further.

I want to say: "those that believe everything can be boiled down to "right or wrong"  "Yes or no"....  VS "those who don't know because there are too many variables"

To me,  conservative thinking is religious thinking.  There are no grey areas.

Liberal thinking is making up your mind on a situational basis.

I pick on conservatives.  But I know that one definition of a conservative is "A Liberal who has just been mugged!"

I'm very curious about an issue  in the upcoming election campaign.  My big questions  are:  Will the Democrats play the religion card against Romney?   Is it a cheap shot to do that?  Does a candidate's religion get a free pass?  Exactly how wacky is Mormonism?    If it is really wacky,  could it hurt Romney?  Wacky or not,  could an attack backfire on the Democrats?  Can it be the Dems haven't thought of this?

I think there is a special team in the Obama camp that is working on this Mormon thing.  I think they are holding back.  I think they have recruited disgruntled Mormons who had to escape from the religion and want to tell their bitter tale.  The team is accumulating data that will shock us all.  Maybe they want to explode it in October.

I have a blog post myself about the Mormons.  It's called "Utah" from Sept. 2010.  I was at the "Temple Square" in Salt Lake.

And last night I Googled up the Mormons and found these claims:     Of course I don't know if they are true!

If you get married in a Temple you have to get naked.
God lives at a star called Kolob.
You wear special underwear 24-7.
The underwear has the logo of the Free Masons on it!
Some of the ritual sacrements are the same as the Free Masons.
Joseph Smith was a known con man before he became the prophet.
The Mormans have a living prophet that is exalted as a god.
There are 12 disciples the living prophet is the head of.
When a man dies "sealed" as a Morman he has his own planet in the afterlife with thousands of women at his command  (this is so better than 70 measly virgins)
Joseph Smith dictated the Book of Mormon while reading golden plates which no one ever saw.  He stayed behind a screen when he dictated.  The guy writing it down decided to test J.Smith and claimed to have lost the previous page to see if J.Smith would then be able to dictate the exact same words from the golden plates.  J. Smith got very angry about the page being lost and said that God was angry and that a different place on the plates would substitute because God was omitting the original page!

And there is more and more and more.  Maybe it's a low blow.  But I hope the Dems go for it.  And I thought Romney was boring!

LLITTY     ::::+::::

Friday the 13th

In our day to day lives it seems we rarely step back from ourselves.  And say "hey wow,  this is summer,  and it's a nice day".  I had a really nice day today because I spent some quality time with wife.  Breakfast on the deck with the barn cats.  Later in the day,  upstairs in the office with the window unit running long and hard,  dripping water on the butterfly bush below and keeping us cool.  I had some leftover pizza from Papa Johns and I'm not supposed to have that.  It's a lotta carbs.  I wound up falling asleep for a 90 minute nap.  The nap was more like a hyperglycemic coma.  When I awoke the sun had eased off on the windows and I didn't know where I was or whether it was morning or evening.  I shook off my sore back and went downstairs.  Wife said "I thought you were going to Denton tonight".  I said something like "Yes I am going,  where is it I'm going again?  She said it was maybe too late now,  but there was a car meet I had talked about for Friday the 13th.  I started begging her to go with me,  but alas,  she had things to do,  and didn't want to change out of her grubbies and wanted to visit and feed critters.

It was a bit too late.  I rallied and threw a foldable canvas chair into the VW.  And my decaf and a water.
There was no time to even rinse the car with the hose.  It was dusty from the ramshackle garage it hides in.
Next thing I knew I was rattling along on highway 16 for the remaining 15 miles to Denton.  The windows were down and the summer air was warm,  but not hot.

When I got to main street there was no missing where the cruise-in was.  About 20 street rods, customs and restorations were lined up along the main drag of this little town.  Beautiful.  A big bake sale.  A big inflateable movie screen ready for dark,  all the shops open, an ice cream truck, a hot dog stand.  It's like something from the fifties.  The car guys have greasy hair,  never too long,  and they smoke cigarettes.  The car girls have short shorts and makeup.  The guys and girls are like me.  Not young.

I ease the Beetle into a fine parking place.  Between an Orange Super Bird,  and a black circa 1963 T-Bird.  I wander around and and it's just so nice that I wish wife had come along.  I got to look at all the cars before they started leaving.    I bought a fine salad and set up my chair in front of my car and the outdoor movie was beginning.  Like a drive-in!  It was Tim Allen,  Star Trek,  Star wars...  or something.  Space, Comedy,  Drama.  I didn't stay to the end of the movie.  But I did stay until I was the last classic car.

The Bug seemed to like the cool ride home.  It went along without complaining.  I enjoyed the cool not cold night air and left the windows open.

There was no gate to drive thru. No entry fee.  No trophies given out.  No announcements from a loud speaker. No hot sun.  There was an outdoor movie.  On my empty passenger seat there was placed a dash plaque and a flyer.  Not a flyer for another car show someone is trying to get me to.  A flyer from this  cruise-in, as a souvenir.  My thanks to the Town of Denton.  You guys know how to do summer.

And Friday the 13th.

Flight Engineer

Everything at North Central Airlines was amazing.  They actually had one of their airliners decked out as a cooperate style aircraft with a luxury cabin.  This was for the Board,  and the top execs.  It was a Convair 580.  The paint job was in the North Central colors.  But very subdued.  Just some modest thin stripes.  And the Mallard Duck logo not on the tail like the line 580's,  but discreetly on the forward fuselage by the main door.  The pilots assigned to fly the cooperate 580 were regular line pilots.  The duck logo was the most recognized in the industry.  The duck had a name.  "Herman".  

I had applied to most of the major airlines.  This was in 1978.  I wasn't getting interviews.  My resume was pretty much the story of a light plane pilot.  I had lots of hours.  But only my DC-3 time set me apart from the CFI's with college degrees.   You had to be in a three piece suit.  You had to have your log books,  You had to have a four year degree.  You had to have an ATP.  You had to have your hair cut.  You had to know somebody.  You had to have the "Flight Engineer written" passed.  I had everything.  Except I didn't know anyone.  And airlines like Delta and American were hiring military pilots with "Jet Time".  Not civilians like me. 

There was a company called "Flight International" doing different things.  Charters.  Government contracts.  Overseas endeavors.  One day I saw a little tiny ad in "Trade a Plane" or "AOPA Pilot" or something.  The ad offered a Flight Engineer Rating for $2995.  From Flight International in Atlanta.  Must be a missprint.  I thought.  Don't get me wrong,  in 1978 $3K was a lot of money.  But an FE Turbojet rating usually went for four times that.  Well it wasn't a missprint.  Flight International had lost it's VA approval and could no longer train the veterans that were getting the airline jobs.  So they needed cash.  And they had the waiver which allowed the Flight Engineer ticket to be issued without the student ever being in a full blown motion simulator.  I got my FE "ticket" .  All my "simulator time" was in a "procedures trainer".  One that Delta used to get their students ready for the real simulator.  This "paper trainer" was the meat of the course.  I had to take the "oral" from the FAA in Atlanta.  I had to do a "walk around" with the school examiner.  This was the same day as my checkride in the B727-100 which was a Federal Express aircraft.  My hop around the pattern in the engineers seat was a blur.

I updated all my applications with my new FE rating.  The interview offers started coming like crazy in the mail.  There was no e mail.  There were no cell phones.  I went to nine interviews in 1978.  World, Braniff, American,  Delta,  Northwest,  Federal Express, United, etc.  Now I had the interviews,  but no offers.

It's true,  I didn't know anybody.  But somehow I seemed to fit with North Central.  I had done a lot of flying out of Ypsilanti, next to Detroit.  I was used to seeing those 580's and DC-9's with the duck on the tail.  I was tired of the cattle calls and three piece suits and WWII aircrew selection tests.  When I went up to Minneapolis I had shed the polyester.  I had my blue wool blazer which was probably the only piece of quality clothing I owned.   The moment I got on the DC-9 at BWI,  I could tell that this airline,  North Central Airlines, was different.  Everyone was nice.  Everyone was recommending to me that I come to work there,  because it is nice.  And there was a big merger coming.  Southern Airways will merge with North Central bringing to the party it's fleet of DC-9's and it's Atlanta hub.  The new airline would be called "Republic". 

Downstairs at headquarters my personnel interview went fine.  Upstairs even better.  Just me and the Flight Ops guy.  In the empty company board room.  After a few pleasantries he said "Lloyd,  tell me about the DC-3."   So I did,  and he told me about  his first job at North Central. As co-pilot on the DC-3.  I listened. North Central retired it's highest time DC-3 and donated it to the Ford Museum in Dearborn where it still resides.

As I rode home from Minneapolis to Baltimore with my positive space pass,  I  knew this was the best interview I had ever had.  North Central had just ordered it's first 727's.  They weren't on the property yet. I had a turbojet engineer rating.  North Central had just begun service to DCA out of Detroit and Minneapolis.  I was from Washington, DC.  All the Captains I would fly with at North Central had flown DC-3's.  I had a DC-3 type rating.  North Central was hiring a lot of civilian pilots due to the 580's and the operating into smaller towns like Hibbing,  Oshkosh, etc.  I was a civilian.

Up in the loft of my hanger in a box gathering dust is the wall style,  rotary,  yellow,  kitchen phone from my parents house.  The phone on which I was offered employment as a pilot with North Central Airlines.  The same phone that ten years before I had been called on to tell me that I had passed, on the final try,  the third and last chance try,  the exams to complete the Spaatz Award.  This was the completion of the Civil Air Patrol Cadet Program.  This would be comparable to "Eagle Scout".

Why did I save that phone?   Because I'm a pack rat?  Yes I am.  But I'm sentimental.

Good Morning

I have blogger's block.  Either I can't write,  or I simply haven't done anything to write about.  Yes all winter I did little to occupy myself.  But when Spring came,  there seemed to be a flurry of activity.  I bought a "light sport" aircraft.  Not a new $150K "light sport".  An old classic $20K light sport. Last Friday I flew around a bit in my "new" old airplane with a mentor who is an instructor to get "checked out".  While I was trying to figure out how I was going to pay for that airplane;  this last weekend I went to two car shows.  I took my beater VW to a Kent Island car show on Saturday.   Then Sunday I took my beater TR6 to a car show in Easton.  I tried to rest up from that.  Then on Tuesday I left for Asheville driving.  Driving wife's car fortunately..  It is sweet.  Then a couple days in A-ville.  I got to play on the stage at my buddy's Cantina and I sang a song called "Motorsickle Bill".  Drove home through the mountains in gorgeous weather.  One short night's sleep and went to New Jersey with my buddy while he picked up his car.  Again gorgeous weather.  Road trips over,  and ready to fly the little "Luscombe",  but now the weather is stormy.  And I'm getting behind on the mowing.

Today I woke up with nothing planned to do.  Of course I have a lot of things I could or should do.  But there was nothing I had to "go" to and no time to be somewhere.  It's a stormy Tuesday with no agenda.  The sun keeps peeking out at intervals.  I could try to wax that little plane for Saturday's Horn Point Fly-in.  If it doesn't get too wet there are a lot of chores.  I have correspondence I should attend to.  The hangar is a complete mess.  And lots of other projects.  Wife would like a yard of mulch for her new garden.

I liked the way my wake up went this morning.  When I got up I wasn't compelled.  I was wondering what I might wind up doing today.  I didn't expect I'd be writing to you.  I didn't expect to see the sun.  I like it this way.  It's less stressful.  They say not getting enough sleep may be the cause of the obesity epidemic.  So I wrote to you.  Now what shall I do?  I'm  leaning toward getting that mulch and maybe a cheeseburger on the way home.  I'm to be very busy Friday and Saturday.  But tomorrow......and hopefully for most days... nothing planned.  I don't think I'll shave,  but I guess I better get dressed.

Peace you guys.     LLITTY     ::::+::::

Spring Fever

Perspective. All of our relations with others start with this. All of our insights about anything start with this. I always forget to remember perspective. Life has a way of slapping me when I let myself get lazy about it. We had zero snow this winter on Delmarva. But they got hammered in the upper midwest. I read an article about a guy who was lucky to survive after being stranded in snow drifts in his car. He stayed in his car for something like three days, and was found and rescued by some pretty skilled responders. So one day the guy is driving along on a snowy day thinking about his agenda. His itinerary. The next day he has been trapped for 24 hours and his fuel is getting low and he is likely going to die. Sitting in his car with a wholly different perspective. A week ago I was having a series of wonderful days in the sunshine. Mowing. Smelling wild onions. Thinking about my upcoming trip to Asheville to hang out with the pros from Dover and sing at an "open mike" at the pub owned by one of the pros. A trip so good, I was forgoing a shot at Lakeland, Fla. The place all aviators want to visit every early spring. But before I even packed my bag for Asheville something happened. I found I had no energy and I laid down to rest and found it harder and harder to get up. This went on for two days. Then on day three my gastro- intestinal system went awry and I had a real bad night. In the middle of the worst I was delirious. And I was stumbling trying to get to the bathroom. I wanted water. Water. I had a bottle I was trying to fill from the sink. But I couldn't wrangle the bottle top. I pulled a towel rack off the wall. I knocked everything off a shelf. Everything off the sink. I made it back to my bed in a cold sweat and took my pitiful little sips from the water bottle. I was lying carefully still, hoping the nausea would not come back. The sweat was drying and the fever was breaking. I was moaning (because I'm a big baby) and as I sipped a little more I got the feeling that the worst may be over. I had lost the cough which had kept me awake for two nights. And I fell asleep. When I awoke it was daylight. And indeed, I was better. And I had a different perspective. The guy who wanted that water in the night had had a little lesson in the hierarchy of needs. New perspective. So what is important? The world is right side up again. My wife is well and reading with her dog in the next room. The news from son in California is good. He just got over being sick. And is well.

Health and happiness to all of you. LLITTY :::::+:::::

Just a Quote

I haven't posted in so long my own blog wouldn't let me in without a new password. And I'm so blocked creatively that I have to just repeat something I didn't write. Actually, I'm not blocked creatively. I've written about a dozen songs in my mind lately. And a score of marginally clever blog posts also in my mind. It's the writing them down that I am blocked from doing. So this is a rant about God. What a shock. But I didn't write it. I quote Daniel Dennett. Here we go:

"Why do people care so much what other people believe about God? I believe that the center of the Earth consists mainly of molten iron and nickel. Relative to other things I believe, this is a pretty big and exciting fact. Just imagine: there's a ball of molten iron and nickel nearby; it's about the size of the moon and a lot closer; in fact, it's between me and Australia! Lots of people don't know this, and too bad for them-- since it's quite a delightful fact. But it really doesn't bother me that they don't share my belief, or my delight. Why should it matter so much whether others share your belief in God?"

LLITTY :::::+:::::

How I got from 78's to Ian Tyson

We all have a favorite kind of music. Conventional wisdom indicates that we always love the music we grew up with. The songs that were popular when we first fell in love. Or first got our teenage heart broken. First drove a car. First did a few things without adult supervision. I have to mention a Beach Boys song now, and this has nothing to do with this post. I just feel like throwing it in. One of the "car songs" makes me feel like America is a car club and this is the song that is the best example of the genre. No one from anywhere but the U.S. could understand the lyrics. The song is called "Fun Fun Fun". You remember it. "She'll have fun fun fun 'till her daddy takes the T-Bird away". It was a catchy little tune ala Chuck Berry. The lyrics told the story of a girl who went to the hamburger stand instead of the library. When she drove her dad's T bird she drove so fast that the "INDY" 500 looked like a Roman chariot race. She looked like an Ace and she drove like an Ace. Eventually her dad takes away the keys to the Thunderbird. This is the best car song ever written. The images of Americana are tightly condensed and woven, everybody loves it. Yes, I love "Little old Lady From Pasadena" and
"409", Dead Man's Curve", Little Deuce Coupe". They're all great. That T-Bird song with the good looking girl is the best.

Anyway, we fall in love with the songs of the period when we fell in love. When I was in Jr. High I was listening to the car songs and the slow dance songs and wanted so much to be "liked" at the Friday night "teen club". But I had an older brother. He had a driver's license and some limited use of the family car. A 1961 Mercury Comet. Straight six "three on the tree". He took Karate lessons and he took guitar lessons. He told me over and over about this guy in high school named David Legg who played acoustic guitar and sang folk songs at some school functions. One of the songs he sang was "Where Have all the Flowers Gone?" The Kingston trio had just come out with it. This guy David had, according to my brother, all the girls in the school falling in love with him. He was part "Collegiate" and part "beatnik" I kept that in the back of my mind. I have an older sister, she is the oldest. She had the first folk album I had ever seen, (the Kingston Trio) let alone heard. It was almost the first 33 1/3 album in our house. We had a Mickey Mouse Club album that was the first LP album I had ever seen. I thought the new format was just for the Micky Mouse club. So my brother had this "Stella" guitar and it was really mostly a toy guitar. And a friend of our father gave my brother a "Gretsch" guitar and I got the Stella. I couldn't play it but I could imagine while holding it having a girl or two that I liked in school liking me. After the Kingston Trio album, my sister got a "Peter, Paul and Mary" album. Then one day my brother brought home a "Tom Paxton" album. He listened to it over and over. I didn't have anything else to do and I listened too. It was protest folk songs and Paxton had written them. They couldn't be folk songs if this guy had just written them. Could they? The term singer-songwriter hadn't been coined. I learned lyrics to those Paxton songs, and chorded along on the Stella. The strings had never been changed. If one broke, you just did without. The Paxton record was called "Ramblin' Boy". Soon I was "Ramblin" around my suburban neighborhood. And if I missed the bus to school, I would just "Ramble" and walk, and if I got there late, well I'd been walkin down a long dusty road, doin' hard travlin'. I knew even then, I wasn't much of a rambler. I couldn't wait to get a car or a cycle. And a girl. Next my brother brought home an album that had a black and white cover with a picture of a hick looking guy with a big scowl on his face. I said to my brother "who the heck is Bob Dylan?" But I pronounced it Dye- lin. My brother told me how to pronounce Dylan and that Dylan was better than Paxton. Little did we know, that was actually Dylan's third album. We literally wore that record out. That album, called "The Times They are a Changin" made me forever a "folkie". There were many more albums and folk groups and singer-songwriters to come, in my coming of age genre. But the very next record my brother brought home was the Canadian folk duo "Ian and Sylvia". I couldn't pronounce "Ian" any better than I could "Dylan". That was immediately our new favorite album.
I still liked pop music. The top 40. Some of the folk songs crossed over and made the pop charts. "Blowin' in the Wind" by Dylan was recorded by everyone. But for some reason my brother and I just sort of tuned into Ian and Sylvia, and we got their records. On the Vanguard label. We sang the songs and tried to copy the harmonies. Ian and Sylvia were not on the top 40 and none of my friends knew about them. There were boy/girl duos on the charts. "Dick and Dee Dee". Nino Tempo and April Stevens. Paul and Paula. But we liked the folky almost bluegrass acoustic guitar and primal vocals of Ian and Sylvia. Ian wrote "Four Strong Winds" and "Someday Soon" and Sylvia wrote "You were on my Mind". They were married for about ten years, and went their separate ways. They were on Canadian TV with a few different shows. After a break of a few years, Ian had a second recording and writing career.

I wound up discovering that Ian, at age 78 is still around and writing and performing. I ordered an Ian Tyson legacy guitar from Mackenzie and Marr out of Montreal.

And I just ordered "The Long Trail", Ian's autobiography. I also ordered a book called "Four Strong Winds" which tells the story of Ian and Sylvia. So I'll know a big backstory whenever I get a chance to read that. All I've said about Ian so far is just what I remember from my childhood. I also ordered some Ian Tyson CD's from when he was in his fifties, sixties, and seventies. I'm sure I will like them.

But it's hard to try to go back and recapture the memories. I used to love "The Saint" on TV with Roger Moore and now when I watch it on Retro TV, it seems dull and contrived. Same with "Robin Hood" and "Mr. Ed". And "Bonanza" is the worst.

I won't get completely back into Ian and Sylvia. I've checked out a few things on YouTube. It's OK and fun to see how young they look and how old I feel. There's something about Ian. An old man now. He is maybe the last real singing cowboy. He's the real deal.

a sofa on a sunday afternoon, goin to the candidate's debate

Have you been following the Republican primaries? The field of the best and brightest has been pared down a bit. And I'm getting sick of it, so I only listen in a couple times a week. I'm a Democrat/Independent. I'm also a social liberal. I don't think someone has to be God fearing to be moral. I think abortions are sad and should be avoided, but I don't think they should be illegal. I think drug abuse is sad and wrong, but I don't think it should be illegal. I don't really give a damn what gays do in private. I don't care if they get married. And I don't know why anyone would care. It doesn't impact my marriage in any way.









I think all of the Republican candidates are all out wacko wing nut looneys. They imagine an America like "our former glory" "the way it used to be" 'when we were strong" "when we stood for something" "in the way of our founding fathers". Mitt Romney loves to claim he will "return" America to some thing that it was before Obama gave away all our hopes and dreams and sold our souls to the poor people and the Chinese. I'm trying to imagine what part of the founding father's lifestyle he wants back. Plantations with slaves? The labor practices of the robber barons? Segregation? Killing all the Indians? Witch hunting? The Constitution and Bill of Rights have actually in many cases stood the test of time because they can be amended. Unfortunately the bible can not stand the test of time and is not allowed to be questioned. I don't want to live in a world where one of these Republicans can try to build his dream society. If you are poor, Or middle class, Or a minority, Or an addict, Or a laborer, Or gay, Or without health insurance, you are screwed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not all happy with Obama either. I believe in universal health care. But I don't like it being shoved through.









I was awed by the over the top pomposity of Bachman, Cain, and Perry and very entertained.




When they dropped out, I thought the fun was over. But OMG Newt Gingrich is even better. He's so hopelessly flawed and jaded and capricious and bitter and hypocritical. He's a Democrat's dream. We all know he will self destruct if he hasn't already. My fantasy is that he would win the nomination and then self destruct during the national campaign. Newt is a fairy tale character who throws stones while he lives in a house made of sand, glass, and cards. I love him. He's the last alternative to Romney, so it will be Mitt to face the incumbent. Once Mitt ties up the nomination it will probably get boring until after the conventions. Then Obama and Romney can square off in battle. Each promising the world if you would only vote for them. That might be boring. Speaking of boring, I haven't mentioned Santorum. He's the religious right candidate. He hates gays. He hates sinners. He wants God and tax cuts. There are bedroom things that he would like to see people arrested for. His imaginary Creator is better and truer than anyone else's. Oddly, he is the only candidate that doesn't amuse me. I usually enjoy wacky people on some level. I simply loathe Santorum.

I think I could sum up the 2012 election as Democrat vs Republican. That's boring. We all know the shameful secret there. The parties are much the same.

More interesting might be Socialist vs Capitalist. I live on social security and a highly regulated pension annuity. I guess in my retirement, if I vote my pocketbook, I'm a socialist. Ooooh. I said a dirty word. It makes me feel tingly. I hope God wasn't listening, or Rick Santorum.

To break it down further would be to say, the Have's vs the Have not's.

I'm going to swich to decaf, this post is too long. Say goodbye and visit the loo. I hope it's not "Occupied".

LLITTY :::::+::::::

Look Thru Any Window

Now as I type I look out the window. It's a day that appears neutral. Not blue sky. Not stormy. No precipitation. Not sunset just yet. You couldn't say it was a beautiful day. But I live on a little farm. I'm retired. We have pets tame and wild. Our house is leaky and we experience the weather inside too. So no day is just neutral. Let me look out the window again and take in the details. The geese have been flying in huge record breaking flocks. Literally miles long. The days getting a bit longer as we approach groundhog day and the half quarter. I can feel the deepest temperature part of winter coming in. The average temperature for this time of year is a high of 47 degrees. I would be happy if we had that average high temperature. It seems we often don't. Last year temps were way below average. This year it's been pretty good. No snow, no flooding, no frozen pipes. I shouldn't say a word. I should only knock on wood. We've got February to get through. I need to get outside and walk every day or I lose the battle with my glucose intolerance. I need to finish winterizing my engine driven tools and toys so they will start in the Spring. I see my wife walking to the mailbox with our dog "Yukon". I figure we've got about five weeks to go and the threat of a big pipe freezing deep freeze will be over. I sort of hope we get one really big snow just to make it interesting. But I want it to go away quickly and be followed by Spring. I have two aviation thoughts every time I look out the window. First I need to buy, borrow, or lease an aircraft I can fly under rules they call "light sport". And second, this would be an awful day to try to soar in a sailplane. Happy Groundhog Day. One week away. Well, I just can't gaze out the window all afternoon. I'm an important guy with things to do. The only thing on my schedule today was bringing the emptied trash can back up to the house. But I see my wife has already done that. It's very cloudy. But that might make for a beautiful sunset.

Confessions from a Lazy Man

I sure haven't posted here in a long while. Writing, like anything else, is an endeavor in overcoming inertia. It's very nice to have free time to write. That doesn't mean I will write. We all spend our lives seeking pleasure and avoiding pain. Now I am retired. This raises the bar a little as far as the pleasure and pain ratio. I could just hang out all day doing nothing. And I do plenty of that. Yes it's great. But everything is relative. If I had just worked real hard for two weeks and had a few days off to just lay around, that activity would be more pleasurable and valuable to me than if I could do it any ole day. If I come to expect every day to be pleasure and leisure, the bar is indeed raised. I worked all my life until four years ago. I thought having "free time" would be the ultimate happiness. Not having to do someone else's bidding. I had already learned that money and fame would not bring happiness. But I had to actually own the "time" to realize that it would not mean happiness. Happiness is a state of mind. It comes from within. Not from money or time. I don't think one can be happy twenty four seven three sixty five. Happiness is a relative thing. It comes along every now and then in the ebb and flow of life. I think the best one can do is be receptive to happiness and bask in it when it comes around. If I set the bar too high, I want to be happy all the time. It doesn't work. I will then avoid all activity for fear it will cause me pain along with pleasure. For the new year let me itemize a few life priorities that can help me have a reason to get out of bed every day:

think about others, especially my wife and son.

enjoy the animals in my life, they are egoless

keep learning, it's very fun.

dwell in the wonder of things (right now it's the geese, unbelievable)

fall in love with things, ideas, projects, dreams

embrace the mundane

pick up the damn guitar once in a friggin' blue moon

be thankful for my health, such as it is

let disagreeable things go, without trying to right them or get a last word

enjoy the now

remember that now that I am retired..... every day is Friday night.

LLITTY :::::+:::::