Author: Rev. Joe Dirt

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Sexy Defined

Another story for the grandkids…about grandkids. 

When my son was around 3 or so we were all at my mother’s house for dinner.   My mother is very strict about manners and all the grandkids knew that unquestionably.  They all tried their darnedest (at least at that point in their young lives) to avoid a run in with Grandma about manners.  My son burps, and we all look at him expecting an “excuse me”.   He looks back at us and says, “It was the burp bird in my pocket.”  What you do after that?  

We did not know it then, but that incidence was a good foreshadowing of my son’s future personality. 

Fast forward 30 some odd years, Continue reading “Sexy Defined”

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Rev. Joe stumbles

I am not religious.  I do not even consider myself spiritual.  I made the last comment a while back and I had a couple folks arguing with me as they thought I was very spiritual.  One problem with the word spiritual is that it has an old school dictionary definition, and common usage that is of a more new age derivative.  The dictionary definition, to me, is not that much different than the dictionary definition for religious . Spiritual in this context seems to imply a less structured version of religious.  I have trouble getting my head around the new age definition.  It is very much like E=mc2.  I understand the parts, but the whole is another matter.

My goal is to live an ethical and a genuine life.  However, most of the time I fail miserably at these tasks.  Continue reading “Rev. Joe stumbles”

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Glory Road by Robert A. Heinlein


Glory Road by Robert A. Heinlein @ Amazon.com

They say that you should not look back at some things.  One example would be looking up old girlfriends.  Another I’ve discovered is reading a book from your adolescence.

I should have known better.  When I was but a wee lad, I loved the movie Swiss Family Robinson.  It was a movie I had viewed several times as a youngster.  After VCRs became popular I rented a copy one night to share with my two children.  I wanted them to experience the joy I had felt watching this movie.   My kids thought it absolutely lame, Continue reading “Glory Road by Robert A. Heinlein”

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Another Question of Etiquette

Speaking of tastelessness (mine), I have another etiquette question.

I was at a function the other night that mostly outside, bar-b-queue, cold beer, music.  It was in association with a local club on Ferris Street in Jackson, Mississippi (I just love spelling that word out).  There were more than a few scantily dressed young women with required tops that revealed most, but not all of their bosoms.  Oh hell, tits.

At one point when I was at the bar trying to get some chips, well beer, there was one set particular close and distracting.

My question of etiquette is this.  Would it be wrong on my part to look her in the eye and say, “Dang, I wish I had some beads”?

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Trailer Trash on Display

Okay, okay…I’m all for freedom of speech.  God knows that I would not want somebody limiting my wonderful ramblings.  At some point, some self censorship should take over.   Occasionally, the question should be asked, “Is this classy?  Is this really how I want to represent myself to the population at large?”

We’ve all seen the urinating boys doing their thing on “FORD” or “CHEVY”.  I saw one the recently that I thought represented the ultimate in poor taste.  Continue reading “Trailer Trash on Display”

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Meatballs and Impounds

Fred was skinny, but then it was the early 70s and everyone was still skinny.  He had long, stringy, black hair that he parted on one side.  Add in some black horn rimmed glasses, well worn jeans and omnipresent jean jacket and you have a reasonable facsimile of Fred.  He came from a fairly well-to-do family, but he was definitely in full blown want-a-be hippie mode. We all were, at least in the crowd with which I ran.

I had just spent a year at the University of Rhode Island, mostly to avoid the Vietnam era draft.  Continue reading “Meatballs and Impounds”

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Yo Soy Canadiense

I was raised a semi military brat.  My father was in the Navy for a decade, and then went to work for an aircraft company.   That left us still around the military and military bases all the time.

I never wanted to go into the military, but I loved John Phillips Sousa, the pomp and circumstances of the military, their parades, the flag, and I always felt a great deal of pride to be an American.  When  I was a teenager we lived in Italy.  Folks would frequently guess my blonde self to be German, I was quick to point that I was an American. 

This continued even through my protesting the Vietnam War.  Somehow I divorced the policies of our government from the actions of my country.  I was not proud of the war, but I was still proud of America.

Something slowly happened over the next several years. Continue reading “Yo Soy Canadiense”