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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”

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Pit Bull Owners

On the back of some whomping big SUV, all across the back window was this:   If it ain’t PIT (then a outline drawing of a pit bull’s head)  It ain’t SHIT.

Rightly or wrongly pit bulls have been maligned.  I really do not understand why anyone would want one.  It is not my idea of a good pet.  Most of the stories you read or hear about dogs attacking/killing humans are pit bulls.

The bill board on the back of this vehicle pretty details the attitude of the owners of animals, in your face and not caring about other folks.  I am hoping it was the husband’s vehicle, because there was a sweet young thing driving it.   Sad part is it had Arkansas tags.  I do not see this sort of thing as helping the state’s image, which is already not the best.

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Eavesdropping Terrorism

I’m really not an eavesdropper, but I am an observer.  Sometimes you cannot help but hear little snippets of conversation.

I was at the park stretching out before a jog.  A couple parking spots away from me were three twenty-somethings,  two gentlemen and a lady.  The young lady was highly tattooed and on crutches.  The two young men looked like a cross between 60ish hippies and members of an Indie rock band.  They seemed to just be out to enjoy the day.

As I stretched I heard a little snippet of conversation when the wind was coming at me, “Did you hear that she said that Ryan’s second child might not be his?”  Continue reading “Eavesdropping Terrorism”