Chatting with Jay

Problems posting on my blog

2011-08-15T17:18:00.003-06:00

Hi all,

Boy I have been having lots of problems getting on my blogs. I can write them BUT can't post them. Molly's blog works ON THE SAME COMPUTER...

I have GOOGLED my problem and found lots of answers of what is causing this. I have tried everyone but nothing seems to work.

BUT I stumbled into a backdoor to get on my blog. It is to complicated to explain and I am not even sure if I can explain it in words. Basicly I have to write the blog and hit publish.... all it does is save it as a draft.... I then go to my editing area where all my posts are listed. I check the draft and hit publish at the bottom of the page. Now it is published but I can edit it where it will change anything in the post.. That sounds like fun. It works every second or third time.. Now I am going to try to publish this one.. Wish me luck!!

Be sure to check my other blog too. I am going to try to put some stuff on there too...

Bye for now

A cop was killed in our town

2011-08-06T23:38:00.000-06:00

A Cop on the Beat (poem) - a cop killed (true)
Hi all,

This post is a sad one. We had a policeman killed in Rapid City recently. Two other officers were wounded. The cop-killer who was stopped in a routine traffic stop was shot and later died at the hospital. He was a known offender and handled by the police many times.

If you would like to see the news article to get a better idea, click below:
http://rapidcityjournal.com/news/bba996ea-c076-11e0-9c4b-001cc4c002e0.html
and lots of pictures: http://rapidcityjournal.com/promo/procession-for-officer-j-ryan-mccandless/collection_3452c9c2-c07c-11e0-8e81-001cc4c002e0.html?photo=1

The officer is Officer J. Ryan McCandless

From the write-up and pictures, you can see this officer was a very special man - a good man - a good cop!!

Being an old cop myself, this hit me a little harder than most (other than close friends and family). As many of you know, I deal with things by writing about them. I wrote the following poem in memory of the brave officer who guarded our town.

God Bless him and the people who hurts due to his death....

...........................................................

A Cop on the Beat
By jay Wilson ©2011

A cop on the beat, patrolling the street
Made that stop that policemen all fear
Some fool with gun, with scruples none
Killed the young officer without a tear

This officer was good, did what he could
To make this city safe for you and for me
He put his life on the line, ended up dying
Now he is gone from friends and family

The news hit hard and I turned to the Lord
To seek for the answer I needed
I read the good book, I took a long look
I was assured the officer would be greeted

The Bible did say, a passage for this day
`bout a person laying down his life for a friend
To heaven he soared, to the arms of the Lord
But sadly will be missed by us and his kin

I will pray for his soul, but the truth be told
The officer already stands by the golden gate
I’m sure he is on guard, working for the Lord
And as always, the officer’s duty’s first-rate

The day may come when you are the one
who will ask St Peter if you can go in.
It would be great, if that cop by the Gate
smiles and says, “Welcome, my friend.”

If ya don't like the weather - wait a minute ;-)

2011-08-04T16:12:00.000-06:00

A NOTE- I have been trying to post this since last June 25.... Something prevented me from being able to post.... I am going to try now for the 8th time and see what happens. Yes it will be an old Blog BUT I am determined to get this thing working. So, if it works, here it is... If it doesn't - dang it - I will keep trying ;-)

PS - I am writing about Hail and today it is close to a hundred .. Now that is late!!!!

...............................................................................

If ya don't like the weather in Texas - you just wait a minute ... or that's how the old Texas saying goes... Well I have news for you - It's the same in South Dakota.

This last Friday (June 24) started off kinda normal with the weather but steadily got hot as the day wore on. Some friends of ours (along in years) was having a garage sale just down the road from our apartment building. I checked on them about 11am. They were already too hot to be out there even with their ice tea and shade. I told them I would come back about 4pm and help them put their stuff up. Well, the heat got to them AND ME so they packed it in about 3pm. This turned out to be a very good decision.

I told them I would help them in the morning get setup again for Saturday's sale.

Now here's where it gets interesting. Menacing clouds started rolling in ... and rolling in ... and getting DARKER. I had checked on a neighbor in the apartment building next to ours. I decided I had best head for home `cause the sky was about to do some bad things... and it did.

First there was a small shower and then the hail came. It caught me within 30 feet of the door to my apartment. The pieces of ice were huge; some the size of golf balls. I had my hand over my head when one hit me on my middle knuckle of my right hand. Hurt like HAIL.......

A second `boulder' of ice struck me on the right shoulder near my neck... Also hurt!!!!!!! There was a constant pelleting of marble size hail. I had never seen hail falling like this stuff was doing. I think the one that struck me on the neck was the size of a grey-hound bus.... well, it felt like it to me..

I got inside and it took only minutes to completely cover the ground with the falling ice pellets.

Here is a picture of a car being pelted but the picture doesn't do the hail justice. The balls of ice started melting as fast as it hit the ground. By the time I thought of a camera... most was already melted. At one point, you could not see the ground, roadway, or sidewalks.

We had lots of windshields broken and dimples on the hoods and tops of our neighbor's cars but ours escaped damage. The only damage Molly and I had was mostly to my little garden. Tomatoes, pepper plants and cabbages will have to be replanted.... The planted area closer to the building was okay.

All this happened in a matter of minutes while we were sun-burning just hours before.

Like I said, the pictures do not do justice as to what happened... There were thousands of 1 1/2" hail but I also saw dozens that were as big a golf balls. But all in all we did better than those five miles away from us. They reported hail three inches across. Ours was tiny besides theirs.

Then we get the National Weather Service warning - the weather channel had put us under another alert for a second wave of the same about 45 minutes. They advised for folks to take shelter in the middle of your home or building.... Dumb us! We went outside and set in our lawn chairs to watch it come in and then we were going to run for cover. We enjoyed a nice afternoon; sipping tea. NOTHING HAPPENED... Yep, the weather changed it's mind.

Our little experience was like that old saying down in Texas where I came from ... but South Dakota got a good dose of what that old saying says.. If ya don't like the weather - just wait a minute.... It worked for us ;-)

But ya know, I would rather have this hail storm than the heat and fires my Texas friends write to me about.

Got to run for now ... I have some garden plants to replace.

My best as always
jay

PS and yes my swollen finger still hurts but not as much as my neck and shoulder (but then, I have always been a crybaby).

PSS Just imagine how I would complain if we were getting the tornadoes or the fires or the `lack of rain' as many of the states around the U.S.A. are dealing with. Those are the folks who have it bad... Think of them in your prayers.

Getting to first-base at the fast-foot place

2011-04-18T15:32:00.007-06:00

Yep, it's true. I got mad at a couple of kids(16 yrs old) that makes a spectacle of making out and they didn't care who saw. Now first understand, I am no prude even if I am in my 60s. But I did have the decency to do it in a private place (well semi-private if we count drive-ins). These kids seem to take great pride in hugging kissing AND groping. They stand out in public and do more tonguing than a heifer cleaning her new born calf. Both of their hands were busier than a clock on steroids. And the funny part is they seem to intentionally get where we can see them. They just don't care. I will tell you, if that was my daughter .... well enough on that!!!!!

Anyway, after sitting out in front of our apartment with Molly and two other ladies we kinda voted that someone should throw water on the kids before they burned `something'.

We had our laugh and decided to call it a day of our tea drinking group. I asked Molly if she would like to run into town and get a burger. NOTE- she beat me to the car and she was on a walker. :-0 she does like hamburgers.... so off we went.

We arrived at the fast-food place and ordered a couple burgers, fries, drink, and an apple pie to finish off the meal. When I take my wife out for a meal, I spare no expense he he he...

Now you might wonder why these two subjects are thrown together. And where this is leading. I'm glad you asked (I assume you asked because you are still reading). I'll explain!

I finished my excellent meal and picked up the box containing my little apple pie. I took a bite while reading the box. Suddenly it hit me. Where do kids get these ideas to `smacky-mouth' in such a public place like in front of 4 old folks; 50 feet from where we were sitting. And the answer was right there in front of me on the little apple box.

I'll add a scan of the box below and you see if you can see a subliminal message printed for all to see. Be sure to read all the words AND put them with the picture. If your eyes are like mine, you might want to click on the picture to make it bigger (QQ). Hummmm Now all I can hope for is Molly gets the subliminal message. AND if she does, it'll be indoors behind closed doors in private. Dang, where is a drive-in when you need one?

By the way, you'll notice I did not name the fast food place.... But don't look too hard on the box unless you want to figure it out.

A hero died today - Frank Buckles - WW-1

2011-02-28T17:48:00.003-07:00

A hero died today

Age 16 years
Above is the Face of a Hero -- Why? - Read on please

Hi all,

I have kept up with a special man over the last number of years. I read about him in an article. And yes he is special ... even today. He WAS the last WW-1 American Vet living. He was 110 years old. He has now passed. I wrote the following poem in Honor of him:
............................................................................
The Face of a Hero

We hear of many who answered the call
Each man volunteered, a hero one and all
There was to be a war and these men came
By train, auto, and by the goodness of their name

This first World War to end oppression world wide
Who could have guessed so many would have died
But still the young men came to join into the fight
They would stand with America for what is right

One such patriot wanted to help freedom ring
He lied about his age – he was just sixteen
With the heart of a warrior, he joined and fought
Then as a POW he learned the hard lessens taught

Frank W Buckles made it home at the end of the war
He was proud of his service and adventures afar
He thought his part was finished, forgotten and done
But we remember him as the last U.S. Vet of WW one

I just got word today that Frank W Buckles has died
This is the brave boy who, to fight for his country, lied
He is gone now to join all the warriors gone before
I know he will be welcomed by friends from the Great War

Although he will missed by we, grateful Americans all
We celebrate his life and passing to answer God’s call
He will take his rightful place with all the soldiers in heaven
Remember Frank W Buckles; died Feb 27, 2011

...................................................................

If you would like more information on him - see:

His story in news:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110228/ap_on_re_us/us_obit_last_wwi_veteran

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Buckles

His story in Wikipedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Buckles

Age 106 years old

Rest well ol' Warrior, You did your job!!!

A Man called Thunder Mountain

2011-01-04T09:27:00.005-07:00

Hi all,

I have mentioned a fella called `Thunder Mountain' several times in the past on this blog or my story Blog. I thought I might explain a little about him today. I have a lot of funny little stories to share about `Mountain'. We have been good friends for many, many years and we regard each other as Brothers. I think enough of him that I wrote a Novel with him being the main `star' -- but set in 1840-1850 Montana. These stories take place in Texas.

Mountain, this buds for you ;-)

Thunder Mountain – His Story Thru My Eyes Yep, I remember the first time I met this fella we fondly all `Thunder Mountain’ .. well he wasn’t called that yet.. that’s a story in itself and a little farther along in this letter. We were at a `Mountain Man Camp out’ called a Rendezvous. The area where we were going to have our 3 day camp was near Columbus Texas. These outings were all done in pre-1840 fashion. That is guns, clothes and attitudes to be like the mountain men of the early Rocky Mountains. . Molly and I had gotten to the camp site early. We were setup in our lean-to well before this `skinny’ fella showed up. There was something about that guy that I just liked. Where we were backed-up into the edge of the tree line (Cedars), this guy was out in the middle of the cleared field. I watched as he put up his TiPi. Those things always fascinated me as well as seeing my first one put up by this fella. He work steadily, pole by pole and then up went the canvas skin. He wore a buckskin pants and no shirt. He had no beard and short hair. I found out later that he was in the Air Force in San Antonio. Yep, and he was skinny. But then, anyone who knows me can understand how I can call anyone skinny.

Anyway, He worked and I watched. I got curious and walked over closer to where he was but didn’t talk to him. This was my second `doing’ and I didn’t know many people there. I remember remarking to my wife Molly; I will meet this guy before the weekend was done. Boy was I right. My son, David was going through a test of manhood. That is, in our group back home, everyone was tested as to your ability in woodland skills. You were required to learn the old skills and become proficient in them. When you were ready, you were tested. If you passed, you earned a feather to go on your personal shield. My son was trying for his `fire feather’. For a nine year old, this was a pretty good test of skill. He had to start a fire with a `flint and steel’ and light a candle within 30 seconds… and he did it in 25 seconds.. A good job and another feather for his shield.. I was proud of him and decided to take him out into the woods for a `mans hunt’ as a reward. All we carried were hawks (tomahawks). We scared up an armadillo, killed it and cooked it. Word got around camp that me and my son had caught and killed this critter and everyone wanted to see us catch another; but alive. We went out and brought another one back in. Well we didn’t need two armadillos to eat so Molly came up with an idea. We tied a ribbon to the live animal (the dead one couldn’t run) and called for all the kids to come to the center clearing. About 30 kids showed up and I explained they would get on line .. I would get out front of them and turn it loose .. and who ever brought me the ribbon – received a prize. So there I am and back behind me is that skinny fella’s TiPi. I turned the frightened animal loose and it ran straight for the woods BUT then took a sharp left turn and headed for the ….. THE TiPi.

That crazy thing ran right into the side of that TiPi and bounced off. I just knew I was affixing to have to buy that Indian dwelling or get a butt kicking from that skinny fella.. Well, that critter hit the side another 2 or 3 times before the kids jumped him (the armadillo.. not the skinny guy). I went over later to apologize to the guy. He didn’t even know it had happened. He was inside and was wondering why all the kids were running around his TiPi. He introduced himself and his family. Mark Lockwood and I became friends from that day on.

I remember about a year later, I was putting on a doing for the `Texas Association of Buckskinners’. I had promised an outing for the club that would be remembered for a long time. Molly and I had more kinds of activities than they had ever seen. One of the contests was a Mountain Man Run where each person had to move along a path while achieving different goals before he could pass. For example, at one of the stops, the person had to trade for a trap (spring type), and set it before moving to the next event. From that point they had to, start fires, shoot muzzleloaders, throw hawks, and so forth. It was a real test of ones skills and a hell of a lot of fun. I was hanging around one of the stages where each person has to stop and receive instructions from an Indian Woman before they could pass to the finish line. Remember this is a timed event so they are moving through as fast as they could. When Mark ran up to the lady, he was already winded. She told him he could not pass until he satisfied her. Of course that led to a bunch of hoots and howls from the onlookers. She explained, grinning that Mark had to sing her an Indian Love song before he could leave. Many had just hoop and hollered; some just screamed at the sky. Mark took a deep breath, looked at the sky with his arms held out each side; palms up, he sang, “Thunder on the Mountain, Thunder in the grass.. Snuck up on Custer and shot him in the ….Hi ya hi ya hi .. hi ya hi.. hi ya hi hi hi ya hi.. He was allowed to pass with EVERYONE laughing and applauding.

That night at the council fire, I named him `Thunder Mountain’. I almost named him `Thunder on the Mountain’ but felt that would not be as I saw him. To the Indian `Thunder’ is a noise. To the Indian `Mountain’ is strength and endurance. I put the emphasis on the word MOUNTAIN and thus the name. And he has been a credit to that name ever since as well as my dearest friend.. From this point it gets kinds hazy. You see in our younger days we `partied hardy’ at night time while at these doings. I always called it `letting some steam off’ from the real world. These nights were ours and we enjoyed them. I remember a few nights … that I don’t remember very well ;-) Thank God and time that we grew-up a little since those days and nights... In those days Mountain and me were always together and that cause us to get into a lot of things.. some good, some not so good .. but never bad! I always seemed to pick on Mountain but always with the love of a friend. I remember one time going over to Mountains camp since he had some coffee hot and I was needing some. I took one drink and dumped it out on the ground and told him I would wait for some of Capt’n Jim's coffee to be ready. Grinning I walked away. It was 6 or 7 years (I said YEARS) later that Mountain told me that he thought I was serious and didn’t like his coffee. I always wondered why I hadn’t been invited back to his camp for coffee.. Now I know.

Picture of Mountain fleshing a hide to tan it.

We were camping up near Lampasas one year in a really neat place. The only thing we had to be careful of was a HUGE ditch eroded out in the flat ground behind the camp. The edges were sheer and about 15-20 feet deep. Now picture us playing poker and drinking beer. No, picture us playing poker and drinking lots of beer. The reason I mention the amount of beer is because you can only hold so much in. Well, nature called, Mountain to visit the cliff. He walked out in the darkness with no light and couldn’t see very well. He could see a tree and he was making his way to it. The only problem was the sheer drop-off cut in between where he was and the tree. We are sitting there playing when we heard a faint cry from the darkness; “Bites … Bites” . Yep Mountain had fallen off the cliff and was sprawled out at the bottom of the drop. I sent a crew way around to get down and get him back out of there. His ankle was hurt but it could have been much worst. He was lucky to have fallen where the ground, down there was wet and soft.. and it hadn’t rained. The rest of that weekend everyone would shout when Mountain walked by, “Look Out, Mountain”…. We renamed that buff `Lookout Mountain'!!

Mountain is a good man. I have never heard one person speak badly of him. Me, on the other hand was always in some conflict or another. I knew this guy that seemed to always pick on and bully Mountain. Mountain took it in stride as just fun… I didn’t like it one bit. I finally had enough and told that fella to back off my friend or he and I were going to have a real serious talk. Not only did that harassment stop but me and that other fella drifted apart. We are no longer friends and don’t even speak now. And the trade for Mountain was well worth it. I used to bring a jug of homemade wine to the doings… so did many others. We would sit around the fire and the jugs would make their way around with everyone taking a pull before it was passed on. Well it was getting late and we had been at it for quite a while. Everyone was feeling the `pulls’ on the jugs. Mountain was sitting across the fire from me on one of my boxes. I looked over at him and then put a jug to my lips. I took a long pull and brought it down. I looked back over toward Mountain. He was gone. I looked around the fire. He was not among the 10-12 people sitting there. I asked Molly where he was. She pointed toward the box. There were two legs with moccasins sticking straight up in the air from behind the box. Mountain had leaned back to have a drink a little too far. He said it was kinda comfortable laying there and he decided to just stay there a while and rest.

That skinny fella had a great since of humor. I was curator at a pioneer village at Gonzales Texas. It was a `historical’ town open to the public. After hours, the jugs came out. All the guys (and gals) were pleased that the village had recently had a nice restroom facility put in. Before, we had to use a Port-a-John. I had designed a nice urinal in the men’s side, made out of stainless steel about 4 feet long and closer to the floor than normal (we had lots of small boys from the schools going in there). I kept deodorizer cubes in the urinal. Well, we were all down in the village and Mountain went up the hill to visit the `facility’. He was gone a long time. I was getting worried that maybe an alligator or something got him. I was affixing to go look for him when .. here he came. He strolled up to me and without a grin said, “I’d been back sooner but I got stuck in your stainless bath tub”. He looked down and added, “Those bars of soap don’t lather very much either”. Everyone fell over laughing.

One year he made me a beaded bag with a rattle snake in the pattern. The crow beads had been stitched right onto the brain-tanned leather bag. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. It must have taken him a long time to make it. Yet for years he complained that he had put one wrong color bead on it. I still haven’t found that bead. He also gave me a small metal emblem of 3 snakes intertwined that is worn on my `medicine bag’. . These are two of my most treasured possessions.

Mountain is one of these guys that has to wear glasses.. and he can be sensitive about it. Five of us were sitting around the fire one night doing what we do around the fire when there was a free jug close. I was feeling mine pretty good and when I looked toward Mountain, he looked a little blurry (surely it wasn’t the jug). I smile and said, “Hey you have four eyes…”. Mountain reached down and picked up a stick and threw it at me. It hit me in the chest. I looked down and then back at him. He stated loudly, “I don’t like being called Four-Eyes”. We let it pass because of the drinking. What I was saying was he looked like he had four eyes, two noses, and two mouths. I was talking about my physical state – not his. We have laughed over that one for years. .. but I will never call him `four-eyes’ and neither will anyone else in my presence.

Mountain and me like our old guns. We like the smell of black powder and the recoil of muzzleloaders and buffalo guns. We really like our Buffalo Guns. He had invited me over to San Antonio to go out to one of the gun ranges. We had all our `old’ guns with us. We were shooting about a hundred yards and everyone was interested in what we were shooting. The only thing wrong with this range was the way the targets kept moving.. Surely, it wasn’t our shooting. All of a sudden we heard, what seemed like a machine gun firing. Well, we knew that wasn’t right so we went to check. There were a couple of guys from `Soldier of Fortune’ Magazine there shooting `legal’ full auto rifles and handguns. They were in SA covering a news story. One was the editor and the other a writer. But the funny part was they were set back by OUR guns.. go figure.

Mountain will tell you that he’s not a hunter. Well, that’s simply not true. I have seen him hunt and kill a pig. We were camping at a State Historical site (mission) near Goliad Texas. The curator came and told me that had a wild pig got loose out of a pen and that could pose a problem with the tourists. He asked me if I would shoot it if I got the chance. WELL SURE, says I. The first day the pig came up and Capt’n Jim took a shot, hitting it in the jaw. BUT it got away in the under brush. Okay, I told Mountain he was up for the next shot if the pig came back. The next morning, there he was. Mountain with muzzleloader in hand, followed me straight up toward the pig. I had Jim circle so if Mountain missed Jim would have time for a backup shot. Mountain made a running shot at about 35 yards. As the pig ran out, Mountain told me he missed. But I saw the shot. It was perfect, right behind the shoulder. The pig ran out toward the brush line but collapsed after about 40 yards. Mountain made his kill. The shot from the previous day had broken the pigs jaw. By now it was running fever and the meat couldn’t be eaten. I did cut the tail off for Mountain though. Maybe you might think this would be an easy shot. But put yourself with the opportunity to make a `one time shot’ on the biggest animal you have ever had in your sights, with a muzzleloader and an entire encampment of hunters watching from behind you. He got a lot of pats on the back that day.

I guess I play too many tricks on my friends. It has caused `almost’ disasters for me. Sometimes my friends don’t know if what they are looking at is real or something I have set up as a joke. Mountain falls into that category. He had come to my house for the weekend. Of course we had the Buffalo guns and were out shooting them. I had placed a target on the back of an old wreaked pickup and we were shooting at it. Me and Mountain was walking up to the target when he spied something underneath. First I need to set this story up before going any farther. I collect Copperhead snakes. I catch them; kill and embalm them to where they dry up. Although dehydrated, they look pretty real. I sometimes place them around just to keep people on their toes. Well, Mountain saw what he thought was one of my jokes. Under the bumper of the old truck was a board about 2 inches wide and 8 inches long. Coiled on it was a sickly looking snake. As I walked up behind Mountain, he reached down and picked the board up. As I looked around him, he was bringing it up to his face for a closer look. I saw it was a live rattlesnake. I hit Mountain on the shoulder, knocking him back and away from the dropped snake. He didn’t believe it was real until I flipped it out into a clearing where he really came alive. It was only 13 or 14 inches long but still plenty big enough to get ya; especially in the face. When he saw the snake coiled on the board, Mountain thought it was one of my jokes… I have not done another snake and will not ever again.

This next story is one of friendship and trust. An event took place that I don’t think many of you will understand. Look deep and learn what trust and friendship is all about. I have to back up to the previous night. We were all sitting around the fire and talking. The subject came up about shooting a weapon in defense or in saving another’s life. Mountain had made a remark about no one had ever depend on him for that `life saving shot’. He wasn’t good enough. He had a strange look on his face like one of self-disappointment. I jotted that down to memory for future use. The next day we were having matches while shooting with our muzzleloaders. His statement kept bothering me. I felt he really did not believe he could make a shot under that kind of pressure. I stopped the line from reloading for another match. I walked out in front of the line about 20 yards and picked up a stick. I held it out from my body. The stick was about ¾” by 10”. Holding it I yelled to Mountain to shoot it. Everyone paused and started looking at each other. I yelled again for Mountain to shoot it. His face turned an ash color as he started loading his rifle. He looked down at the ground and just stood there. I stated again for him to shoot it. When we made eye contact, the ash color was gone and was replaced with an expression of resolve. Slowly he lifted his rifle and took aim. One of the men walked off the line muttering something about crazy. The others stood tight and quiet. Mountain took aim and fired blowing the 2 inches off the end. He just smiled. He knew he could take that shot if it came down to it. He gained confidence and I changed my pants.

It took me years .. many years before I could talk about what I did in the Marines. In one weekend, Mountain got me talking about things that I thought I had put so far in the back of my mind. It didn’t matter. Well it did matter. I guess we all lost people somewhere that gave us bad dreams. Mine though was getting worst. My memories were affecting my life. Mountain helped me with that. I’m not going to discuss any of what we talked about because that’s not what this is all about. This little part is so people will know there is a whole lot more to this man than meets the eye. For years he has told me that he can’t understand why I liked him…. Hell, I can’t understand why he has put up with me. But then, I guess that’s true friendship.

I guess that’s enough stories for one letter so I am going to stop for now. This will continue in another letter later. Maybe many letters.

The picture is of Mountain as a Pirate.. Below is a video of him shooting at a `Cowboy Compatition. Yep, he's a man of many hats.

This is a video of Mountain shooting compatition as a cowboy

A Little Magic

2011-01-01T23:43:00.005-07:00

Hi all, I am just trying an experiment. I am trying to learn how to post movies. videos, and clips. I don't know what I am doing so go easy on me. The only videos I can find right now is some FUN magic tricks I made for my grandkids. Anyway, here goes

This is a trick using a dollar bill

A Dancing Feather

Tied Straws

Like I said, these are simple tricks for my grandkids.... Hey, I'm having fun :-)

I have a second reason for learning how to do this. My wife Molly needs me to video some tutorials for her Blogs. Her Blogs on the right side of my Blog just click and go.

I will get better at both (magic and posting)..

My best as always jay

Blizzards, New Year's Party, and Little Naked People

2010-12-31T13:48:00.002-07:00

Yep winter has fell upon us here in Rapid City, SD.
Our local paper said so:

..............................................
It's Officially a blizzard

The combination of high winds and snow makes today's weather an official blizzard, National Weather Service meteorologist Scott Rudge said.

Blizzard conditions are being reported from Rapid City, Faith and Pine Ridge east to the Mitchell area as fresh snowfall combines with wind to make travel treacherous.

As much as 6 inches of new snowfall was expected in the Rapid City area today, with 3 of that already on the ground by noon.

With the wind, "It'll be a lot of bare patches and drifts," Rudge said.
................................................
And the story continued but that little part pretty well sums it up. And the local authorities have `advised' folks to stay off the roadways. It's bad out there now but will worsen as this day (New Years Eve) moves along.

Now this news has caused us some problems. For one thing, we were going to a New Year's Eve Party. No, I won't get my Molly out in this kind of weather. We'll just stay home and have our own. And that's okay with us.

Over the period of 37 years of marriage, we have lots of the staying up to wish the new year in. Though I do have to admit the last 10 or so years we usually celebrate earlier and am in bed by midnight. Guess we are getting old ;-)

I remember our first year of marriage and our first New Year Party. It was without doubt one of the MOST memorable ones.

We had been invited by some friends to go to another couples (we didn't know them) house for this special party. Molly and I drove up to the house described (no address). We were looking for the yellow house on the southside of Sage Street - a new addition. We found the yellow house and parked. We didn't see our friend's car but we figured we were early. We knocked on the door and a man opened the door. I smiled and said, "We are here for the party". After introductions and handshakes, he welcomed us in and I turned over our `bag of goodies & drinks' to the man. We went in and met several other couples. Molly and I didn't know anyone there but joined into the conversation. But something didn't seem right. Hmmm Seemed a little strange, NO - VERY STRANGE.

Well, if you haven't figured it out yet, we were at the wrong party.. We were 4 blocks from the OTHER yellow house we were supposed to be at. We all had a good laugh over this mistake. We said our niceties, gathered our goodies, and headed for the door. Hated to leave because we were having a good time. In fact the man told us to come back if we didn't find our party down the street.

We did find our party and our friends. But the uniqueness of the night did not end with our earlier adventure. Molly and me went to the bathroom. Molly wanted to show me something in there. WOW, this was going to be a great new year..... Don't let your imagination get ahead of my story ;-)

Molly told me to look at the wall paper in the bathroom. It was a white background with ink blotches on it. I didn't see anything. She said look closer. Oh My!!! It was nude couples in various states of - how do I say this? - ENCOUNTERS of a personal nature. Shocked? Oh yes...

And the funny part is the couples whose house we were at were not the type to have this on their wall. They had recently bought the house. Molly and I wondered if they had even discovered the designs by that night. Who knows, it might still be there. We never went back again.

Yep, that was a night to remember but that wasn't all. I guess I could continue about the men at the party running outside to capture a couple of people stealing the gas out of our cars. But then, I might save that one for next year....

All of you have a Happy New Year. If you would like to call us and wish us the same - DON'T CALL AFTER 10PM.... we'll be in bed asleep

Yep, Christmas time is a busy time...

2010-12-22T20:32:00.008-07:00

Hi all,

Today was a busy day for this old Santa helper. I had sites set up for today so I knew Molly and I was going to be out all day spreading Christmas cheer. We started out going to the Food Bank and the Food Pantry. These two places help to feed those who need a little help in Rapid City. I even worked there as a volunteer but my knees gave out too soon.. When we went in to the stores, everyone started to smile. The manager shouted out to the `guests' that Santa was here.... All heads turn and I start handing out candy canes to everyone. I also have a huge sack of `Ty Babies' that goes out to all the young `uns. I aquired dozens and dozens of them through donations...

From there we hit a dentist office at an elementary school (only one child there but lots of adults).

Off we rode again. This time I went by Wal-Mart. We handed out candy canes and more `Ty Babies'. Even ran into several friends and their kids. Wal-Mart is a in & out place. That is I walk in and give everyone something and then leave. I can't hardy finance the whole store. I have been the store Santa back home in Texas. I had to sit in a chair and kids came up to me. I prefer the in and out method...

And the last place today was at (of all places) IHOP. I really didn't have them on my request form. We stopped to get something to eat. Of course my bags of goodies went along with me inside. I went around to all the tables with kids and handed out about 20 `Tys' and lots of canes. The manager came by our table and thanked us. He is interested in setting up a regular visit for the IHOP - I'm to talk with him tomorrow about times and days (best hurry - Christmas is upon us).. When we got up to leave we were informed that our chicken-fried steaks were paid for by one of the tables I visited... Wow - we got a present....

One more stop at our local Community Health Center. Several sick little ones was happy to see a Santa with canes and `Ty Babies'. We felt good about this stop. It brought a little cheer into some kids lives when all they expected this day was the Doctor and maybe an injection... Ouch!!!!

We had a good day. We have been doing this for a lot of years. But it had been a long day and it was time to get home. As we drove up at our door we noticed something strange. On our door was a sack full of goodies and surprises. It was from a neighbor who I wasn't even sure she knew our names... We had helped her with a problem (nuff said) and I guess this was her way of saying thank you. That was nice. And that was the end for this day (lots of smiles by Molly and myself).

Now we go back tomorrow and hit several more stores as well as the Golden Corral and another dentist office. And then we have the places like the food banks we go to everytime we are in town. This will continue until Christmas is over... Then it's time to start planning for next year.

In Case I don't get back - Y'all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year... Y'all hear?

With sincerest Cheers from Santa's Helper and Mrs Helper

A cut above the rest

2010-12-16T13:14:00.010-07:00

Hi All…

I have a question for you. Have you ever noticed a child who, for whatever reason, didn’t have any hair? I’m not talking about a baby or just having really short hair or a style or even shaved, I’m talking about a little boy or girl who due to burns, cancer or other disease has lost their hair as in bald? Did you stare? Did you just take a peek and think to yourself, “Oh my” Did you think to yourself about how you felt sorry for them and their family?

I know I would be self-conscious as a 6 yr old. Or even as a 10, 15 or 20 yr old if I was bald. You know some other children make fun of them and, sadly some adults.
Well, I know I have stared and didn’t mean to. I think that WAS human nature until I start re-evaluating what I was seeing. I didn’t want to feel sorry for that child … I wanted to help!!!

I found a place on the internet called `Locks of Love’. They take long hair and makes wigs (hair prosthetics) for these special children in need. The wigs are made for kids who suffer from hair loss. And how was I able to help? I contacted LOCKS of LOVE and they explained how folks (like you and me) can send long locks of hair and that is how they get to make the wigs for the children. Most women are used to at one time or another having long hair that could be cut and used as a gift. Men are a different situation. Few men have that long a hair… unless you grow it special for the LOL. So I did….

And when it was long enough, I cut and mailed it to LOL. In return, they sent me a nice thank you card. But the best part of this whole deal is how it made me feel to help. It was hard for me (as a man) to grow that stuff. Each time it got hung in a branch or got caught under me when sleeping or when the wind used it like a whip on my face/eyes, I hated it more. Was it worth it? Oh yes. Each inconvenience made me remember why I was growing it and that made it worth while.

My hair was being used to make life easier for some child who faces the world without hair. Think about that for a minute. How would you feel as a child? Most of those kids I have met are braver than I ever was. And they deserve our help…
Did you catch I said `OUR’ in the last sentence? You see you can jump on this wagon too and help. It just takes growing a little extra hair or cutting that long hair you have now. Many Beauty Shops and Barber Shops cut hair for free if it is going to Locks of Love.

Some might feel that the hair is vain but it is much more than that. It is a tool to allow a young boy or girl to walk down the street with their heads held high. It is a tool to re-building self- esteem.

I would ask you to consider this very special gift. I did it and I’m proud I did (3 times now). The following pics are from the first time I cut my hair for LOL. The first two is before and of course the last two is me without my long hair. I missed it for a while but started regrowing it THE NEXT DAY. By the way, Molly cuts the locks off for me. And I would cut hers too ... but not so close.

Jay

The following is taken from Locks of Love web site http://www.locksoflove.org/

WHAT IS LOCKS OF LOVE?HATLocks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the United States and Canada under age 21 suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. We meet a unique need for children by using donated hair to create the highest quality hair prosthetics. Most of the children helped by Locks of Love have lost their hair due to a medical condition called alopecia areata, which has no known cause or cure. The prostheses we provide help to restore their self-esteem and their confidence, enabling them to face the world and their peers.

Mission StatementOur mission is to return a sense of self, confidence and normalcy to children suffering from hair loss by utilizing donated ponytails to provide the highest quality hair prosthetics to financially disadvantaged children. The children receive hair prostheses free of charge or on a sliding scale, based on financial need.

A little visit to the VA to visit Vets

2010-12-12T18:22:00.010-07:00

Hi all,

Well it has been a while since I scratched anything on my blog. Guess it is time to quit putting it off. I thought I might share a little story about a PGR (Patriot Guard Riders) and HOTH (Helping On The Homefront) mission to carry a little Christmas up to the Vets who stay at the VA hospital in Sturgis SD.

We made little gifts. The gifts was a rolled up pair of white socks stuffed with other little goodies. If ya ever spent any time in a nursing home or VA, you'ld know their #1 complaint is having cold feet. So with the gifts in a little wagon, we headed out.

We walked the halls and handed out a lot of gifts. Counting what we left at the nurses station, it totaled 70 pairs of socks with the goodies stuck inside. From the psycho ward to the lunch room to the two wards including the Hospice area, PGR members made their way along spreading joy among the patients and nurses alike.

One neat thing that happened was Ride Captain Curt had a quilt (made by his wife) to give to one of the residents... And he found a man who never got any visitors. The quilt was appreciated.

All and all, it was a great mission - one I look forward to doing each year and hope to do again. This was my third year to be involved with this project. We have developed a good relationship with the VA. I would like to extend a special thanks to Mike Ellis who lead us around. His help and courtesy was very much appreciated.

There is such a reward in seeing the looks on these people's face as gifts were handed out. But sadly, there were some faces missing from last year. We must all remember to appreciate these older (some my age) warriors at the hospital. We are losing so many of the guys .. and gals (no disrespect intended).

Remember that it does not have to be a group (like PGR) to go up to a VA hospital and visit these people. Just go by the Volunteer area and talk to them. Soon you'll be doing something special. And you know what else? There are plenty of nursing homes around too. They like having visitors... What's that old saying? -- Try it, you'll like it.

Go out and visit some folks who can't be home and I promise you'll love it.... and they will too.

If ya find an old warrior (Vet) don't forget to thank him for what he did for all of us and his country... You'll be glad you did. Molly even got into the act....

My best to all until next time...

Until later.... jay

Veteran's Day Parade - Molly and Me

2009-11-12T09:48:00.012-07:00

Well another Veteran's Day has come and gone. But Molly and I made some neat memories.

I told Molly that I needed to go down to the Vet's Parade to take pictures. The Patriot Guard (we are both members) was going to ride in the parade and I was to document this with pictures taken from the side lines... It didn't go that way. We were in the parade.

I ride with the PGR but ride in a `cage' (car). Many injuries over the years dictates that I don't ride motorcycles anymore. So I bring up the rear as guard and support. I always fly two flags off the rear of my Van on special holders. One is ALWAYS the American Flag. The other flag depends on the event...

Well being the day after the birthday of my Corps (USMC), I decided to fly my USMC flag. And we brought up the rear of the many PGR motorcycles. It was great. With every person wearing a `military hat (WW2, Retired USMC, etc) went a salute from me. And they saluted back. Many, many flags being waved by young and old made a wonderful day for all there. I had NEVER heard so much cheering for the Vets. It was great. Some folks yelled, some waved, and a few cried. Each had their own reason to express themselves as they saw fit.

Molly waved back at all the children. She had a great time. Although later she called me, "a bad boy" for tricking her into being in the parade. She has been in dozens and dozens of parades over the years but now felt she needed to be on the sidelines. Well, she is out of retirement!! ;-)

I hope all of you remembered to `thank a vet' yesterday for what they have done and do for all of us. But remember also, you can thank them any time; today, tomorrow, next week...... anytime... they would appreciated it.. I promise!!!

Here are some pictures of a few of our close Vets we wanted to remember. There are too many to list any more.... The post pics are our relatives who served in WW2
Molly's Uncle - USAF - Pilot

My Father - US Army - Combat Medic

My uncle - USMC - Military Police

Marine Birthday and Me

2009-11-10T09:37:00.008-07:00

Marines

Happy 234th Birthday

Dedicated to my uncle who encouraged my joining the Marine Corps. I wore his WW2 Marine EGA pins on my 1960s uniform. I was asked by many (officers included) where I got the pins. When I explained, ALL thought it was neat and a great way to show my respect for my uncle.

Me, as a young Marine

And this is my DESKTOP on my laptop (and yes those are my pictures on it..

As an added note - I wrote a patriotic blog (last one) and it really messed up. I thank everyone who tried to help me solve the problem. It might have been a lost blog cut short ... but my friends came out in droves.. I thank each of you again and from my heart ---- J

Remember the `8th of November'

2009-11-08T14:54:00.002-07:00

Song by `Big and Rich'

The 8th of November

Said goodbye to his mamma
As he left South Dakota
To fight for the Red, White, and Blue.
He was nineteen and green with a new M-16
Just doing what he had to do.

He was dropped in the jungle
Where the choppers would rumble
With the smell of napalm in the air.
And the sergeant said, "Look up ahead"

Like a dark, evil cloud
1,200 came down
on him and 29 more.
They fought for their lives
But most of them died
In the 173rd Airborne.

(Chorus)
On the 8th of November,
The angels were crying
As they carried his brothers away.
With the fire raining down
And the Hell all around
There were few men left standing that day.
Saw the eagle fly,
Through a clear, blue sky
1965, the 8th of November.

Now he's fifty-eight
And his ponytail's grey
But the battle still plays in his head.
He limps when he walks,
But he's strong when he talks
About the shrapnel they left in his leg.

He puts on a grey suit
Over his Airborne tattoo
And He ties it on one time a year
And remembers the fallen,
As he orders a tall one
And swallows it down with his tears.

(Chorus)
On the 8th of November,
The angels were crying
As they carried his brothers away.
With the fire raining down
And the Hell all around
There were few men left standing that day.
Saw the eagle fly,
Through a clear, blue sky
1965, the 8th of November.

Saw the eagle fly,
Through a clear, blue sky
1965.

(Chorus)
On the 8th of November,
The angels were crying
As they carried his brothers away.
With the fire raining down
And the Hell all around
There were few men left standing that day.

(Chorus)
On the 8th of November,
The angels were crying
As they carried his brothers away.
With the fire raining down
And the Hell all around,
There were few men left standing that day.
Saw the eagle fly,
Through a clear, blue sky
1965, the 8th of November.

The 8th of November
The 8th of November

He said goodbye to his mamma
As he left South Dakota
To fight for the Red, White, and Blue.
He was nineteen and green with a new M-16
Just doing what he had to do.

.....................................................

Note - I had a post already written here for the `8th of November' song. I tried to add a video and it completely messed up my post. I guess I need more lessons ;-)

Anyway, the memories are too painful for me to rewrite the original post so I will simply have the words to the song... If interested you might want to google the story and the video. It makes a hell of a story...

Jay - former Marine

Another Halloween done come and gone

2009-11-01T18:13:00.008-07:00

BUT what memories we made......

Molly and I started off with a Pre-Halloween event on Oct30. This was an idea I came up with for our kids in Box Elder to have an extra night of trick or treating... You see ALL the kids in our little town go to Rapid City to a city wide event at the Civic Center for Halloween. It is a great thing for Halloween but we kinda get left out seeing the children. I met with the same committee that just put on the Box Elder Bash and layed out plans for another Halloween the night before the actual night of `spooks and goblins'. They thought it was a cool idea and we did it with only six weeks of planning... A special Halloween would be sponsored by local businesses in an empty building. The committee did a great job. Molly and I were the only `plain couple' to set up to give candy. All other tables were operated by the businesses around Box Elder... And then the kids came .... and came .... and came.

It was so cool. I was dressed like a pirate and gave a gold (plastic) coin with each handful of candy. I had my candy in a treasure chest. Molly gave candy with a spider ring. Molly really got into the spirit (no pun intended) of things... She was the Great Pumpkin.

Then Halloween night we had kids beating down our door; all dressed up. Some were cute .. some were scary .. and some - well I am still trying to figure out what they were..... BUT they were all great.

Now we are planning next year's Halloween to make both nights even more fun and games ... and we are adding a Haunted House. Guess who plans to run that he he he...

The Buffalo at Bear Butte

2009-10-25T22:12:00.007-06:00

Just east of Sturgis SD is a very special mound of earth reaching up into the sky. Well, the mound is a lot more than that. It is a beautiful mountain that holds a very special meaning to the local Lakota Natives. It is a religious and holy place for them. It would behoove you to look up this place called Bear Butte. I am not going to go into that.. I just want to share with you the mountain and the buffalo.

Molly and I have been there many times as tourist although I do recognize the spiritual significance which it holds. Being there is an adventure in itself. I have always wanted to walk up the path to the top but my knees have pretty well ordered me to forget that idea. Still we drive through the small park on the road that leads to the parking lot. There is a museum at this location and an area to leave your vehicle to make the trek up the mountain.

We especially love it in the winter when the snow is on the ground. I am a fool-hearty, picture taking fool. I love my digital camera and believe in using it every chance I can. I have taken so many pictures of EVERYTHING up here in South Dakota. But the most peaceful place for photos is in the Black Hills and at Bear Butte.

Last winter on our trip up to Bear Butte, we caught the Buffalo out near the road. I saw this as a great photo opportunity and I took advantage of it. I stole a few shots of these grand animals ... thought I might share a few pictures with you.

Although I have been a photographer for 3 newspapers (small), I do not think of myself as a professional by any means. My photos serve as proof of that ;-)....

Anyway, I hope you like some of these...

My best to you as always......

Snapper was a neat pet - and he did earn his name!!

2009-10-24T18:29:00.009-06:00

Molly and I were well know for having unusual critters for pets. We've had everything from squirrels to opossums to skunks to coyotes to goats to buzzards to foxes AND trust me that ain't near all. Also understand, all out pets were PETS in every sense of the word. Each lived a portion of their lives IN our home... not in a cage. They roamed free and came when called. I plan to share some of these animals stories over time. But today, I'll tell you about Snapper. He was a unique pet and had even a more unique beginning in life.

Everyone knew about our caring for animals. Even the local game warden brought me baby deer to care for until they could be relocated and returned to their natural habitat. Even friends brought us baby rabbits, stray dogs, and even a wounded owl. Snapper was one such critter that was saved for us. Friends of mine were hunting javelina in South Texas. They had killed one and was cleaning it to eat for supper. Inside they found babies; all dead but one. They wrapped it up for warmth and contacted me to come get it (see hunters aren't all cold-blooded).

The tiny creature was a perfect miniature of a full-grown javelina. When I touched it to pick it up, it turn extremely fast and got my finger. Thus he became snapper!

We were living in a pioneer village at the time. I had a school to go to in the following days so Molly carried him along with us. He was a big hit with the kids and quit snapping at everyone, Snapper became a great pet. He roamed free but slept in our tent with us. He became very well known. There were even newspaper stories made about him.

We think he thought he was a cat because that was his playmate. Snapper continued to grow til he was bigger than the cat of whom he protected. There are so many stories I could share but (trust me) it would take a book. When I walked, Snapper stayed with me. When Molly sat down to knit, crochet, or quilt ... Snapper was with her. His favorite place was to get under Molly's rocking chair and stick his nose out from under her long 1800s dress. He was something and we loved him. His attention to us proved he loved us too ... until he was killed.

Long story short - a pack of dogs came into the village and attacked him. I heard the fight going on and ran down to a feeding pen where Snapper had been staying. When I got there, he was pretty well finished from the wounds inflected to him. BUT as I struck one of the dogs with an axe handle and kicked a second, Snapper, mortally wounded, still did not release a death grip he had on a third's throat. The remaining 3 dogs ran out of the village and went north up the highway. I cared for Snapper as he died. I ran to my truck and pursued the running dogs.. Without any fanfare, I accomplished my mission ... nuff said on that.

Snapper was one of the neatest pets we ever had and we still tell stories about him. AND we still miss him even after 16-17 years. He still makes us smile when we think of him. Snapper earned his place in our hearts.

We had lots of animals that stole our love. I hope to write about some of them in the future in this blog. Maybe I'll tell of the fella who called me at home and told me he had come by. He also asked, "you have a wolf in you house?" He had been met at the glass door by Anopki (means pretty head). I gave him an honest answer. "No, we don't have a wolf. Anopki is a two year old coyote who lives with us".

Maybe the story below will give you an idea of what we mean when we say they were pets. ;-)

"House Keeping in Old Virginia" - Recipe Book

2009-10-23T11:45:00.004-06:00

A while back, I ran across a book that I decided Molly just had to have in her collection of recipe books. But then Molly believes every recipe book should be in her collection. I was in a quaint little second hand shop when I spied a book on the shelf with a date of 1879. It was a cookbook or I should say a general book on housekeeping. It was entitled, "Housekeeping in Old Virginia" by M.C. Tyree. It really looked old.

Upon inspection, I found that the book was a reprint of the original published in 1879. Favorite Recipes Press Inc. in Louisville, Kentucky made the reprint in 1965. It still was kinda an antique and definitely one I needed to buy for my lady.

It is a neat book and one that should be in your collection if you like `the old ways'. There are more recipes than you can shake a stick at but beware you had best understand a lot of the old terms. For example, for the Green Pea Soup you "boil half a peck of peas", for Souse Cheese you "lay the meat in cold as cut from the hog", for Apple Charlotte you "bake quite a long time" and for Loaf Bread you "add lard the size of a hen's egg".

Some of the recipes are very much in the `old tongue'. Some are even copied exactly from the way they were written in 1879. For example, there is a recipe that was put down by a slave cook and part of the recipe is as follows; "Resipee For Cukin Kon-Feel Pees - Gether your pees 'bout sun-down. The folrin day, 'bout leven o'clock, gowge out your pees with you thum nale, like gowgin out a man's eye-ball at a kote house. Rense your pees, parbile the, then fry 'em with som several slices uv streekt middlin, incouragin uv the gravy to seep out ....." and the recipe continues in this same colorful and entertaining written language. Not all of the recipes are as difficult to follow and in fact most are very simple and useful. I'll share a couple of recipes that Molly has already experimented with and met with great success.

Applesauce
Pare and slice some tart apples; stew until tender in very little water, then reduce to a smooth pulp. Stir in sugar and butter to the taste, a squeeze of lemon juice, and a little nutmeg.

Rice Bread
1 pint sweet milk 1 teacup boiled rice
2 teacups sifted corn meal 1/2 teacup melted butter
3 eggs, beaten separately 1/2 t. salt
Bake in a very hot oven, using buttered iron muffin
molds.

There are so many fun recipes that it'll keep ya running barefoot in the kitchen. Well, it did for me anyhow. You see, I love to cook. I think Molly will even agree that I have used `HER' recipe book more than she has..... and she doesn't mind at all.

I whole-heartily recommend "Housekeeping in Old Virginia" and the neat part is you probably have it in your local library. Check it out.

Oh Brother ... another blog

2009-10-22T21:00:00.005-06:00

Hi all

Well, here I go again into another adventure .. and it's all because of Molly.... She talked me into setting up another BLOG. This one is going to do with writing stories, poems, and anything else I decide to pursue. Oh heaven help me ;-)

The address with be:
http://afewwordsfromjay.blogspot.com/ or just click the button at the upper right column (my book cover).

I will continue this blog (Molly said so). Boy sounds like I am hen-pecked... I will tell you right now - I AM NOT!!! (Molly told me to tell y'all that too)... he he he he he

Anyway, I hope some of you can come over and read my stuff...

I also would like to thank all the folks who read this post and comments and/or emails me. I really do appreciate you all....

well, that's it for today...

jay

Who cares if you're smarter than 5th Grader???

2009-10-21T16:28:00.009-06:00

If you could remember everything you had learned over the years of going to school, you'd be pretty dang smart. Think a minute about the times you have said... gee I used to remember that?

I worked as an assistant manager of a water corporation and was in charge of the field maintence. I was certified by the state of Texas ... and that meant lots of schooling. Shucks, I don't remember many of the many formulas I had to learn and use.. ex: the volume of water flow difference of two different size pipes.

I was also a police officer and we had to figure friction of tires on a given roadway and use a formula to approximate the speed of said vehicle involved in a collision.

But then there was the simple questions my children, grandchilden, or the 10s of thousands of children in my classes. You know that question that you know you used to know but somehow slipped away. I'm talking simple question - not those ridiculous formulas.

Many times I felt I needed a refresher course in everything ;-) and I found one.

Well not really... but I did find a place to answer or refresh just about anything you want to know.. AND NO it wasn't GOGGLE 8-0

It is called `B J Pinchbeck's HOMEWORK HELPER' http://school.discoveryeducation.com/homeworkhelp/bjpinchbeck/bjreference.html

note- to use the link above, you will have to cut and paste. SORRY

This is a site to checkout... And let your kids know about it. I use it all the time but not so much for learning as for entertainment/fun. Believe me, you get into this place and you had best set aside some time. It is educational and a blast. Just reading through it is a hoot. And the neatest point is you learn while having fun. BUT be warned you will NEVER make it through all the sites. There are too many subjects, sites, and interesting adventures that await you.

Some of the adventures that await you:
General Resources and Homework Helpers | Biographies | Calendars and History Events | Colleges, Universities and Schools | Convert Anything to Anything | Dictionaries | Encyclopedias | Finding People and Businesses | Government and Legal Resources | Medical Resources

No, it's not only school stuff. It is so much more. Still, it is a great place for your kids to research stuff ... or yourself to refresh that failing memory.

Frogs, Mops, and Dogs.

2009-10-19T10:39:00.006-06:00

Hi all,

You know sometimes things aren't what it seems. I get so aggravated at people who are so opinionated that they can't see the opinions of other people. Sometimes it would do better if folks would just backup and take another look at what is going on right in front of their face. It's like they believe there is only one way to look at things..... Are you one of those people that only sees one thing from one perspective???

Let's find out..... what do you see in the picture below??????

Now tilt your head to the right (right side as top of picture) and look again... Hmmmm maybe you will see something else... See, this post is for fun... Thought I was serious didn't you .. he he he

Now check out the next picture and see what you see....

Now.. if you think you see my Molly being attacked by a giant mop at the Rapid City Kennel Show ... you would be wrong. That `mop' is one of a dozen (at min.) show dogs that gave Molly kisses. It's fun to watch because all the dogs are attracted to her .. and the dog owners love it.. why?? you might ask. The answer is simple. They have a `dog show' judge who is in a wheelchair. If a dog isn't around a chair much ... it can distract them from doing their job (winning). The owners like letting the dogs come to and sniff the chair. It's good for the dog and good for Molly.

Besides ... the dogs love the attention. Yes, I have to admit my Molly loves the attention too.... But you can see that in her picture... no picture trick there!!!

jay

Am I proud of being a U.S. Marine????

2009-10-11T19:14:00.004-06:00

Hi all,

Been a while since I have been on. Between dealing with SSI, SS, Medicaid, and insurance companys over Molly's last sickness.... And dealing with companies who are trying to raise our monthly payments on our bills ... Well, I've been kinda busy and not in much of a mood to write. I was talking on the phone with one of these `highly educational' people (I'm trying to be nice) and I came unglued and gave him both barrels. He became a friendly rep of his company instantly. And we made progress.

After I hung up, I looked over at Molly and she was grinning. She says, "Gosh, I could never tell you were a Marine." I answered, "Well, you know what they say." Her comeback (now enjoying her picking at me) was, "No, what do they say?" That was a mistake because I was already fired up and gave her a 10 minute lesson of `What they say.' She patiently sat and listened with that cute little grin. When I stopped my rambling, she says, "Why don't you write those on your blog?" Ahhh, I fell for her trap. She had been telling me that I needed to write some more on my blog because it had been a while. Now she had me... It was `put up or shut up". I dug through some files and retrieved some quotes... Ahhh, so here is what they say about the United States Marines ...... (and these few are a very little number I could post.....)

....................................................................
The Navy:

Marines I see as two breeds, Rottweilers or Dobermans, because Marines come in two varieties, big and mean, or skinny and mean. They're aggressive on the attack and tenacious on defense. They've got really short hair and they always go for the throat.
RAdm. "Jay" R. Stark, USN; 10 November 1995

The Marine Corps has just been called by the New York Times, 'The elite of this country.' I think it is the elite of the world.
Admiral William Halsey, U.S. Navy

By their victory, the 3rd, 4th and 5th Marine Divisions and other units of the Fifth Amphibious Corps have made an accounting to their country which only history will be able to value fully. Among the Americans who served on Iwo Island, uncommon valor was a common virtue.
Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, U.S. Navy

The raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next five hundred years.
James Forrestal, Secretary of the Navy; 23 February 1945

.................................................................
ARMY:

There are only two kinds of people that understand Marines: Marines and the enemy. Everyone else has a second-hand opinion.
Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army

Why in hell can't the Army do it if the Marines can. They are the same kind of men; why can't they be like Marines.
Gen. John J. "Black Jack" Pershing, USA; 12 February 1918

I have just returned from visiting the Marines at the front, and there is not a finer fighting organization in the world!
General of the Armies Douglas MacArthur; Korea, 21 September 1950

We have two companies of Marines running rampant all over the northern half of this island, and three Army regiments pinned down in the southwestern corner, doing nothing. What the hell is going on?
Gen. John W. Vessey Jr., USA, Chairman of the the Joint Chiefs of Staff
during the assault on Grenada, 1983

Lying offshore, ready to act, the presence of ships and Marines sometimes means much more than just having air power or ship's fire, when it comes to deterring a crisis. And the ships and Marines may not have to do anything but lie offshore. It is hard to lie offshore with a C-141 or C-130 full of airborne troops.
Gen. Colin Powell, U. S. Army
Chairman Joint Chiefs of Staff
During Operation Desert Storm

I can't say enough about the two Marine divisions. If I use words like 'brilliant,' it would really be an under description of the absolutely superb job that they did in breaching the so-called 'impenetrable barrier.' It was a classic- absolutely classic- military breaching of a very very tough minefield, barbed wire, fire trenches-type barrier.
Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf, U. S. Army
Commander, Operation Desert Storm, February 1991

The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle.
Gen. John "Black Jack" Pershing, U.S. Army
Commander of American Forces in World War I

........................................................................
AND WHAT are presidents, First Ladies, and heads of states saying/ :

The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!
Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady of the United States, 1945

Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem.
Ronald Reagan, President of the United States; 1985

They told (us) to open up the Embassy, or "we'll blow you away." And then they looked up and saw the Marines on the roof with these really big guns, and they said in Somali, "Igaralli ahow," which means "Excuse me, I didn't mean it, my mistake".
Karen Aquilar, in the U.S. Embassy; Mogadishu, Somalia, 1991

A Marine should be sworn to the patient endurance of hardships, like the ancient knights; and it is not the least of these necessary hardships to have to serve with sailors.
Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery

I am convinced that there is no smarter, handier, or more adaptable body of troops in the world.
Prime Minister of Britain, Sir Winston Churchhill

....................................................................
What has the ememy said?:

"Do not attack the First Marine Division. Leave the yellowlegs alone. Strike the American Army." Orders given to Communist troops in the Korean War;
shortly afterward, the Marines were ordered to not wear their khaki leggings.

AND LAST and maybe the best of all above - What this mother thinks of the Corps:

For all of those that have son's or daughter's at bootcamp let me pass on what I found. Let me give you a little back ground first. When my son left home he had no motivation, he was lazy, slobby, no pride, no self worth. This is the boy that got off the bus March 18th at Parris Island. The man that I met on Thursday for parents day is AWESOME. There is no way I can describe to you all the difference. He looks different, he walks different, he talks different, he has such a sense of bearing and pride all I could do was look at him in awe. Oh yes, the training is hard, what he went through is unimaginable to any one that has not been there. They are definitely taught to be Warriors. Let me tell you the surprise of what else they are taught. My Marine son has better values, better morals, better manners than any one I know. It is so much more than Yes Sir, Yes Mam...so much more. He cares about how he looks, he cares about what he does, and its not a boastful, bad ass thing. He is a true gentleman. I saw patience, and a calmness in him that I have never seen. I could never express my gratitude enough to the Marine Corps for what they have given my son. I know this, I have an 11 year old Devil pup still at home. When the time comes for his turn if I had to I would take him kicking and screaming all the way. Although I'm sure that will not happen. The hero worship I see in my younger sons eyes for his Marine brother tells me I will have two Marines in the family, and I will be one very proud mother.
"Cybil", Mother of a Marine writing to the myMarine Group

September 11, 2001 (9-11)

2009-09-11T06:45:00.006-06:00

It's September 11th....

In 2001, eight years ago, we were attacked upon our land because of who we are and what we stand for....

Many people died that day while doing what they have been doing as a part of the regular routine. Many died who had families who still remembers and feels the pain of their loss. All Americans should feel the loss.

I will be attending two different activities today. One will be at the Black Hills National Cemetery and the other will be at a night time gathering...

I also will be flying a flag on my car as well as standing in a `flag line' in honor.

Will you be flying a flag?????

Please do....... and please remember...

Why don't folks jump in to help????

2009-09-10T08:47:00.006-06:00

Molly and I have always been the type to help. If we see a collision, we stop to see if we can do something. As an old EMT, I have patched up a lot of people on the side of the road as well as direct traffic until the police take over. Molly jumps in when a friend has a problem or things are bothering her friend. She can make the day seem brighter. We have been involved with so many fund (and FUN) raisers, you really wouldn't believe it... That's the way we are. Problem is there aren't a lot of folks who will do that. Now we are not special. There are tons of people who do a LOT MORE than we could ever do. You are probably one of those... thank goodness.

Well, I guess you are wondering what put the bee under my bonnet (expression - I really don't wear a bonnet ... very often) ;-) Anyway, we are putting on a `special event' in our community and need volunteers to help. In some cases, the help is as simple as handing out FREE bottles of water. Even with these simple jobs .. we can't get enough help to give us a hand. Even out local PIZZA place refused to put a flier in there window. Mind you, this place is going to have a booth SELLING pizza at the event. There is no charge to get in on the grounds. There is a FREE DJ with a battle of the bands. I'll be doing FREE balloon animals for all the kids. Molly will be working a table, yes even in her wheelchair, letting people know what all is going on. And this list goes on and on.

When we ask for help, one lady told me she couldn't because she had other plans... You know what her plans are???? to go to this event .. she just doesn't want to be tied down... But the show will go on. Some of us will be pulling double duty to get things done. But they will get done.

Okay, I'll stop feeling sorry for myself ;-) ... I just get aggravated!!!

I was complaining to Molly about the last meeting where we were finalizing the last decisions. I told her nobody seemed to want to help. She opened her COLLECTION of worthless information (her name for her collection) and said I'm emailing you something. We were sitting 4 feet apart.... Yet I opened my email and she sent me a cute thing which I will share with you... It didn't solve my problem and concern BUT it did make me smile. There is a neat lesson in it.
***************************************************

Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, And Nobody

This is a little story about four people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody. There was an important job to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it. Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody's job. Everybody thought that Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.
******************************************************

Yep, there is a neat lesson in there. Hope you enjoy!!!!

By best as always

jay

Yes, it's true .... I have a tattoo

2009-09-09T06:13:00.002-06:00

Yes, it's true. I have a tattoo. In this day and age of the acceptance of such little works of art, maybe it's no big deal. Back in 1968 it was a big deal .. at least for me it was.

I received my skin art back in my days as a young Marine. The day after I got it, I thought to myself that I had really done it now. How was I going to explain this to my mom?

Now my tattoo isn't a woman in a lewd, suggestive pose. I wasn't that stupid. It isn't a girl's name or even a `Texas' tattoo. I was a Marine and by gosh, I would have a Marine's tattoo. No Devil Dog, Globe & Anchor or `The Corps' for me .... just a simple `*USMC*' located on the inside of my right forearm. I would like to share the story on how it got there.

I was a Private First Class (E2) in '68 and a Squad Leader at Camp Pendleton - Marine Corps Base in California. I was tight (close) with the men in my squad and knew each well. After 12 weeks of Marine Corps Boot Camp, you get to think of your fellow Marines as family. My squad was my `closest family'. One of my men was a fellow from Arkansas. He had seen a tattoo on another Marine of a huge black panther clawing it's way up the man's forearm. My Marine had to have one.

Being his leader, I felt I had the responsibility to try to talk him out of it. I did everything I could to discourage him from marring his body with this junk. His mind was set. I agreed to go with him when he left to get his tattoo while on liberty. I thought I would work on him right up to the last. It didn't work. He got his tattoo and somewhere along the way - I got mine. In fact there was 7 of us on that trip and we each got one with mine being the smallest .. thank goodness. I had made a mistake .. a bad one. This was something that I was sure I would regret forever.

You know, I used to blame him and alcohol for the reason I allowed this painted scar to be put on my body. That was until he was killed in Viet Nam in 1970. Since then, each time I look at it, I feel a little pride that I knew a young Marine who went to fight for his country and paid the ultimate price. And he gave me something besides a memory to remember him by. I still don't care much for tattoos on me but then again, someone else's tattoo is none of my business. His/her reasons are their own. You see, I mellowed!!!

So I have a tattoo and it's one I'm proud of. It reminds me of a great military organization I belong to and a friend who thought of me as his big brother.

I remember coming home from the Marines and showing my tattoo to my Dad. I waited for the frown and words of disapproval. Instead he smiled and told me about when he received his Army tattoo. It was the first time we got into a conversation about his war experiences and memories. One memory was when he and his Army buddies went into town to get their tats.

When my son came home from the Air Force Base in Germany about 20 years ago, we waited to hear about his adventures into this new world he had joined. When he and I was alone, he said he wanted me to see something. Why was I not surprised when he started rolling up his sleeve? I looked at the `USAF' tattooed there and smiled.

To me, it symbolized a family tradition and an old memory.

To him, it symbolized a family tradition and a new memory.

Yep, I have a tattoo and am damn proud of it....

A `new-eye' for painting opinions please

2009-09-07T18:01:00.006-06:00

Hi all,

I just came from a fella's house where he wanted my opinion of his paintings. He has been doing these for a couple of years. Joe only paints his own interpretation of primitive Native Americans. HIS PAINTINGS ARE DIFFERENT!! to say the least ... Yet there is something about them that I like.

I would like YOUR opinion (good or bad) of what you guys think. I want honesty and from the gut opinions. He will never see any of these answers but I will discuss them with him. I have already given my critique to him and I am known as being brutally honest. I believe that is necessary to learn and grow... I know everyone says, "Oh, I love that design", "I love the colors", "I love your hair" ..... etc etc even sometimes when you just say it to be nice or so you don't hurt anyone's feelings. But in this case, I do need honesty. So what do you think? ... Answer on my blog or email me at Bites4570@yahoo.com ..... Thanks Jay

`The Fireman' ---- a fiction/poem of 9-11

2009-09-06T14:27:00.004-06:00

With Sept 11 just around the corner, I have been thinking a lot about the events that happened that day in our great country. It was a tragic day for all of America. In the aftermath, I wrote a poem called `The Day America' cried'. It is in my blog on July 13th if you care to read or reread it.

A few days after I wrote that poem, I wrote a second. It is a work of fiction but I wonder if through miracles, such a thing could not have happened. Who knows...

I hope you like it BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY - REMEMBER 9-11 and the folks who died. By the way, Molly lost a cousin at the Pentagon on 9-11.
....................................................................................

The Fireman
by Jay Wilson

I have heard of things called miracles all of my life.
I have heard about Angels and God from my wife.
It’s not that I didn’t believe in prayers and such.
It’s just that I didn’t think about it all that much.

Then came the day when I was on the top of `the Tower’.
That day I learned to believe and it all happened in an hour.
We were sightseeing from the `lookout’ point on Building Two
We saw the plane hit Building One and the fire that passed through.

We heard the explosion and fear gripped my very soul.
My wife and I watched in horror as the tragedy begin to unfold.
Fire flew out and we could see debris and ... bodies begin to fall.
I held on to her and we both cried and then came the call.

We were being told to make our way down to the street.
Just as a safety measure, I told her where we should meet.
I was afraid if we got separated, she would be hard to find.
Then people started pushing and the lines began to wind.

We were being carried in the crowd and I lost hold of her grip.
People were scared and shoved ... and then she tripped.
I lost sight of my lady but I just knew she’d be okay.
We were almost down, Well, I think about half way.

Then the whole building shook and we all heard the boom.
I knew we had been hit as the smoke filled the room.
The heat was tremendous and fire was burning just above.
I worried where my wife was and had I just lost my love.

We were led down to the outside and the sight was Hell.
Metal and bricks and bodies; all mangled, lay where they fell.
We were led to safety by firemen who took us away
from the devastation we experienced on this day.

All I could think about was my wife - I pray she got out too.
The life we had together wasn’t finished.. we just weren't through .
I wouldn’t accept any less than she would be safe and well.
Then we heard the horrible noise as the first tower fell.

I ran out to the front and you could see a huge wall of smoke.
It came and passed over and by us, its thickness made you choke.
Like a beam of light, I could see something in the dark coming near.
It was a fireman helping a lady, my wife, he washed away my fear.

When she saw me, she ran and threw her arms around my neck.
She told me how the fireman had pulled her from the burning wreck.
We turned to go inside out of the smoke and asked him to come.
With a brackish face and a solemn smile, he said. “I’m not done”.

We watched him as he trotted back toward the war-torn site.
My wife said she’d never forget her fireman, her guiding light.
She told me of how the explosion had hit very near her on the floor.
And how she was knocked unconscious and knew nothing more.

When she came to, the fireman was leading her out of the smoke.
It was like being in a horrible dream and then she awoke.
But the strangest thing was yet to come with the news on wire.
The young firemans name was listed as `missing’ at the tower.

He was one of the first on the scene and fighting this `man-made’ Hell
And he was there, doing his job, when the first tower fell.
We heard later they found him, with his hand on another `lost life’.
I’ll believe to my dying day that he was the same that saved my wife.

He wasn’t able to save the woman who was caught under the fall.
So he came back from death to save my love from that burning hall.
I know there were, probably, others saved by him that fiery day.
But like us, they’ll keep quiet and have nothing to say.

Besides, who would believe such a story? Not most I am sure.
My wife wants to keep her story personal and I concur.
It’s not a story for news .. it’s more like a story to share.
About a man who was needed and through God, he was there.

an erotic story by jay

2009-08-27T09:07:00.004-06:00

Most everyone knows I like to write. Note that I didn't say `write well'. Anyway I decided to write an erotic story with some sauce in it. I hope this does not offend anyone. I told Molly she could act as a CENSOR to make sure I don't get too carried away. She said she will simply X-out all the parts that go too far. Hope you enjoy.....

There once was a woman named XXXXXXX. She was pleasant enough but behind closed doors she XXXXXXX and she liked to XXXXXXX. One day she was walking to town and saw a man who was XXXXXXX. She stopped to see if she could help. He looked at the pretty lady and asked, "XXXXXX if you XXXXX. And you could XXXXXX with me to the XXXX. They both XXXXXXX and XXXXXX and XXXXXX all day and into the night. Not knowing his wife had come home, they continued to XXXXXX and XXXXXX. The wife saw and shouted, "XXXXXXX you XXXXXXX. You can XXXXXX and XXXXXX and XXXXXX".

The moral of this story is, if ya XXXXXX and XXXXX with others YOU CAN END UP AS AN EX. he he he he he he he ;-) .... got cha!!

A Flood and a Pot of Hot Coffee

2009-08-26T10:18:00.004-06:00

Years ago, when we still lived in South Texas, our area experienced what `bad times' can be like when the electricity went off. Somehow, it is a humbling thing to be left in the dark and have to rely on oil lamps, candles, and flashlights to be able to move through your own home.

The river flooded and submerged the power plant. All the towns around us went through something that only happens in other places like Mississippi or California. Floods like that one ONLY happens somewhere else ... but then this one didn't. It was just a few miles from us. The creeks around us allowed us to only travel 1/2 mile before running into unpassable swollen waters. Makes you think, doesn't it? What if it had been our home that flooded? What if it had been a tornado? Or a riot? Or some other natural disaster? Would we have been ready for the test of survival?

The Boy Scouts have a motto that says, "Be Prepared." I believe in that wise motto. I always have!. Since I was about 11 or 12, I have tested myself in survival. To me it was just a game to begin with but through the trailing years, it became a most serious study .. and it continues today! I even have taught survival classes to men and women BUT NEVER husbands and wives together (that's another story)

Back to this story, Molly and I were very comfortable through our `short term' blackout. The electric company told us we might be without power 48 hours. We weren't. We were lucky. But we were prepared. We were ready for whatever. We already had clothes gathered in backpacks in case we had to leave. We store non-perishable foodstuffs and dried milk for us and neighboring family members. We already had 30 gallons of drinkable water put up. We have stored a knowledge that makes us feel comfortable in `bad situations'. And the most important thing we had was attitude. We will make it no matter what! Attitude is EVERYTHING in a survival situation.

Now I don't believe we could survive anything that happens. Floods sneak up on you and tornados suddenly come out of the sky. There are bad people who kick in doors and kill entire families before any action could be made.... But on a whole, we will survive!

I have written articles like this one for several publications. I usually wouldn't publish this for a small town newspaper because most people believe my `being prepared' is silly and over reacting. After all, things like that happens in `Other Places'. It could never happen here, right? Ask someone in Cureo, Texas or people along the Mississippi River and see how they answer now.

I promote `Emergency Preparedness'. I believe in being prepared. Everyone should have a `kit' put together that would allow you to be self sufficient for a minimum of 72 hours for all your family members. Your emergency kit would be like medical health insurance and car insurance, it's useless, until you need it and then it's priceless. But if you don't have it when you need it, it's too late and life gets tough.

When the power went off and we were told it might be 48 hours, we knew it was time to `get it together'. Where most would just be inconvenienced... Molly and I looked forward to the challenge. We figured to have fun, learn, and maybe get to pass on some knowledge to others. We drove about 100 yards to where my daughter and son-in-law lived. My son-in-law and I went out back, (live in the deep country) sat down by the fire and put on the coffee pot. Molly came out of the house with a frying pan and chow for breakfast. We all had a great meal with a hot cup of coffee. The discussion drifted to the `what ifs'. We were ready. `Emergency Preparedness' is not an easy thing. It's more than putting up water. It's knowing how to obtain, filter, and purify it. And a hundred other things. It takes dedication, study, and thought. It takes an attitude.

There are many, many sources for survival gear and foods. I believe there are nine great books for helping you learn about survival with one being the `Boy Scouts Fieldbook'. I know my stuff. If you are interested, GOOGLE for some information. There is some much on the `net'.

You can't survive everything but with a little knowledge, you stand a better chance of making it. With a little more study, you can survive comfortably.
After our little emergency, my son-in-law talked to his father in the nearby town. The father said the worst part of the whole thing was water and electricity was off and there was no hot coffee to be found in the whole town. When told about our hot coffee, the father asked where we got it. I would have enjoyed hearing the rest of that conversation. My son-in-law enjoyed telling me that his father should have used a little common sense about camping. All people know some but forget what they know when they need it. You see, attitude is 80% of survival. A good attitude will help you to remember what you need to know. One day, one week, or a year.... accept it as an adventure and have a good attitude about it..

What other `little' surprises does Mother Nature have in store for us? Like the Scout Motto; Be Prepared!

Did I mention, as an 10 year old boy, about my staying down on the Colorado River by myself? With a single shot 22 rifle, a canvas for shelter, a pan for cooking, and a fishing pole, I used to enjoy 2 or 3 days out there alone. My daddy taught me to survive. No one worried about me ... My dad taught me about attitude and survival .... But that's another story!!

Raising Kids

2009-08-24T21:12:00.003-06:00

Funny how we take things for granted! I know I do. Sometimes we forget or just don't think about how good we've got it or why. I have seen people in fancy homes that did not appreciate anything they had and I've seen people with very little who thought they were the luckiest people in the world. But then ... I have seen it the other way around too.

Happiness in a home is the most important thing in the world. A family that is `pleased' with each other makes for that environment. And that environment is passed on to your kids.

Money and security are important but they are not the most important. You try to have nice things but
`togetherness' is the key. This is not a perfect idea for everyone because some like being alone and independent from others. I don't understand that because it's not my way.

I don't like being away from my family and don't like any of them away from me. I believe in family closeness. Even today, I like knowing what's going on in my married kids lives .. good or bad. Molly and I are always there for our kids .. WHEN THEY ASK!

Molly and I believe we are our own best friends. I believe in friendship in marriage. When each of my three children asked for my blessing for them to marry the one they loved, all I asked was, "Do you like him (her)?" Their answer was my answer. I never asked my kids if they loved that person. Love is second to like. Love can sometimes really just be lust hiding. The young sometimes don't see that.

There are those that believe a bank account and a secure job is the highest priority to teach young people. I disagree. First you teach them pride in themselves. You teach them that they are accountable for their actions .. good or bad. If you've raised your kids to `THINK', then let them use what you taught them. If you taught your kids to be responsible, then trust them. If you taught your kids to talk and trust you, then sit down and talk to them. I'm not saying not to `step' in and help with decision making but wait till you're asked. If you've raised your child in a home with open talk, they will welcome your ideas.

This way of handling children isn't for everyone but it has worked for Molly and me. We have always had love AND discipline as the guide in our kids lives. That was when they were 4 years old, 14 years old and it will be when they are 64 years old. I hope you noticed that I used the word `GUIDE' and not rule. You see, sometimes you have to be willing to compromise or bend a little. Rebellion is a normal part of kids learning independence. How well you know your children will dictate how to bend (or at least, let them think you did). Same guide is used in `horse trading'. I'm not saying be less than honest, just careful how you present your side.

Well, by now you are probably wondering what got me off on this subject. Over the last 2 weeks I have listened to several friends talking about the mistakes they've made with raising their kids. I too, have made mistakes but like to think I learned from them. I have worked with numerous young people in my life that was having problems with their parents. And parents with their kids.

I have found over the last 30 years of dealing with folks with these types of troubles that the main problem is lack of communication. If I could pass on ONE RULE it would be, `learn to talk to your kids and let them know they can talk to you'.

Nuff said! My two-fingered typing is getting the best of me. I need to go and wrap them around a big glass of iced tea….

My bucket has a hole in it

2009-08-23T15:35:00.004-06:00

"Jay, your bucket has a hole in it!" I remember those words well. Back about 30 years ago, I worked at a rural water corporation serving 4 counties. My father-in-law, Mark Towery, was the manager of the FHA system. My job was simply to install meters, backwash the well sites, flush lines, and fix water leaks. And we had lots of leaks. All the lines were 8" PVC and smaller. When I started, the system couldn't afford a backhoe so leaks were repaired by hand... that means shovel and bucket!

Mark and I were at a water leak where a 4" line had split. Being in the `low area', lots of water drained down to where I was digging and bailing water to get to the water line. We were in a sandy field and the walls of the hole kept caving in. What should have been a 3' X 4' and 30" deep hole was becoming a small reservoir.

I would shovel sand and bucket water as fast as I could but I was not making much, if any, headway. My temper got the best of me as another `sand slide' slid in to the hole burying what I had already spent 45 minutes digging. Now it was wider but no deeper. I reached over and picked up my bucket and threw it with all of my might. And wouldn't you know, it hit the only shovel within a 100 yards of me.

Mark walked over, picked it up and inspected it. He turned towards me and holding the damaged bucket up, smiled and stated, "Your bucket has a hole in it."

His comment broke the tension and my anger. We both started laughing. The rest of the story isn't important. The fact that the corporation bought a backhoe and two water pumps shortly after doesn't matter. The fact we hired two more employees to help me doesn't matter. What mattered the most to me was Mark Towery telling me that my bucket had a hole in it. I have smiled many times when remembering his comment. And everyone in the family heard him tell that story `too many times'. That comment can mean many things to many people. For me, it simply meant that one has to accept what is as what it is and go on. In that mud hole it meant if ya get mad and lose your temper... it can cause you more trouble that just accepting what happened and move on. That expression chased me the rest of my life and will til the day I die.

You see, I do have a temper. I have a bad temper. I have one of those tempers that get people in trouble but I have learned to control it. Even still though, I have to be reminded to watch my temper. And that's Molly's job.

Molly and I were at a `History Event' in Llano Texas. They put on a dance Saturday night for us and the public was invited. Three boys had had a little too much `partying' and started acting up which included some off-colored comments to my wife. When I found out, I was ready to settle the score and hang some scalps from my belt. As I started toward them, Molly put her hand out and touched my arm. Very quietly, she said, "Jay, your bucket has a hole in it." Red faced and full of courage, I looked back at her. Her smile was met with mine. We left the dance. (note: those boys were taken care of later by another husband).

I learned to use his expression to help me through many different `problems'. When I was feeling down, I would remember him saying it and it always made me smile.

Mark Towery passed away a number of years ago. He was a humorous man full of wit. He taught me how to plow with a mule, plant `taters', and how friends used to help bury friends and relatives who had passed away. He had done it many times. He taught me words like "laraping" & "tuniment" (tournament). He taught me the care of an animal and the love/respect of family in a way that can't be put in words.

We were very close and shared many secrets that will go to the grave with me. He asked several favors of me - for when he `passed'. When Mark died, I fulfilled one of his wishes at the cemetery. As the people left the grave site, I had several special people stay behind to help me do what he wanted. With everyone else gone, I held up my hand to the backhoe that was going to fill in the grave with dirt. You see, Mark was going to be buried by family & friends by hand like he requested. No machine.

As I stood there looking down at my friend's casket, I felt I needed to say something before we started. Quietly, I whispered, "Mark, looks like your bucket has a hole in it". As everyone began shoveling dirt into the open grave, I cut my eyes up at Molly. She just smiled.

A great father, friend and teacher had passed and now it was time for us to move on. That's the way of life.

A Garage Sale Surprise

2009-08-18T17:36:00.004-06:00

Well, it's true.... I love to go to garage sales and buy lots of goodies that I don't even need. I can't turn down a good deal. Once I bought a cannon because I didn't have one. And I still own it..

Molly and I hit the dusty trail early last Saturday and attacked every garage sale we could find. We made a lot of good buys and some, I'm still wondering why I bought a spider man lunch box... well ... I didn't have one and now I do. I also bought a Disney Clock (like I needed another clock). Bless Molly, she just shakes her head at some of my `good deals'. Now she is very particular. She buys things we really can use. She buys a neat set of steak knives (new in the box) for 50 cents and I buy a bunch of VHS cartoon movies for the neighbor kids for $3. But then there was the SURPRISE buy of the day.......

We stopped at some friend's home who was having a moving sale. We went to buy some stuff to help them with their sale. That's what friends do -- right? Ahhh - the story continues. I walked around and picked up some items when I hear Molly `spsssst'ing me. I looked over at her and she was flashing her finger at me... ahhh, let me rephrase that -- she was motioning me to come over to where she was standing next to a bunch of clothes. My goodness, I hate looking at clothes. Reluctantly, I obeyed (rephrase - chose to go) and see what she wanted. She wanted to show me a dumb old crocheted thingy. She was taking me away from my shopping to look at this old crocheted thingy. She said...... "Look closer" and I did.... It was the crocheted Afghan that Molly had made for `our friends' three years ago for Christmas. AND the lady wanted it and even picked out the three colors. Molly made it for her.... Laying there, it appeared as new as the day it was made. I picked it up and laid it on the `pay out' table. My purchases were added up, we paid, and left. We don't think it ever dawned on them that Molly had bought the same `special order' gift that was a present. I now have it on MY bed. (note - I would have rather had the spider man' pillow cases) .... ;-)

This is the Afghan today :

Now you think that is an adventure in `Surprise"? Imagine when Molly and I was going through books in a second hand store in Texas. Molly were going through the CRAFTS section. Same as before - "Jay - Come here!!" She wanted to show me the inside cover of one of the books for sale ($1.00).... On the front blank page was a ink printed stamp --- It read - "PROPERTY OF MOLLY WILSON". It was one of Molly's special books that she NEVER did or would loan out... Hummmmmm .. now how did that get in the book store.... I think Gomer Pyle said it best, "SURPRISE, SURPRISE". ;-)

The Wall Didn't Go Well

2009-08-18T10:39:00.002-06:00

Nope, I (didn't, couldn't, wouldn't shouldn't) make it to the traveling VietNam Wall.... It just didn't work out for me. It has taken me this long to get back on my blog and write those words for y'all to read... My reasons are my own and my own weaknesses and I'll say no more about that. I did have that beer at this time as I have done for many years. I'll share it one day at the wal when I'm stronger....

I'll be back on here shortly ... Molly told me so ;-)

I have missed you guys

My best as always

jay

The Viet Nam Wall ...... and a Bar?

2009-08-04T10:49:00.008-06:00

Weird thing going on up here in South Dakota. Oh I mean besides all the bikers riding up and down the streets while visiting Sturgis. We are in the middle of the `Largest Biker Rally' in the world. I have been doing some work with the PGR up at the `Buffalo Chip' campgrounds. We put up 50 5X7 State's flags on 12-13 foot poles to honor the men/women who have gave their lives in the defense of OUR country. We also put up one for each branch of the services, a POW/MIA, a PGR, and a KIA flag. The area is called `the Field of Remembrance'. Members of the PGR man a table 24 hours a day (all week)to guard and answer questions for the public. Well this sounds like a start of an informative post ... but that's not what I want to write about.

This is about something else going on. This is about a bar (booze) that shucked out the money to have the `Traveling Wall' brought to Sturgis. This is a scaled down version of the Viet Nam wall that lists the men/women killed in that war.... Many of us were there!! Many of us didn't come home! Many of us carry a guilt that we did come home without all our brothers coming home too....

While the wall is VERY special, I have not been able to go to it AND I NEED TO. It is a healing wall but it causes so many memories and pain, many just can't go there... I am one.

This news article was in our local paper about the wall being brought in by the bar. Many voiced opinions. While most are favorable, here is a couple that were not:

profit motive - wrote on Aug 3, 2009 7:55 PM:
" you hit the nail on the head. Exploiting veterans, landscapes and women for the purpose of a pathetic pool party. "

Great - wrote on Aug 3, 2009 4:29 PM:
" Why locate it at a bar...does that truly honor our nations hero's or is there a profit motive on the backs of our fallen men/women. "

..............................................................................

I think it is weird that they don't understand. I want to get mad but only find sympathy for their lack of understanding. It doesn't matter where it is or if anyone is making money off of it... THE WALL IS HERE and I will go (finally) to see it. It will be difficult. I have some things (from the war) that I will leave in memory of my brothers. And I will drink half a beer and pour the rest on the ground in front of the wall. It's OUR way of saying goodbye and maybe I can rest too.....

I wear a tattoo on my right arm ( *USMC* )... I wear it for a dear friend... Maybe I'll write about it some day.

I have posted a letter to the editor about these negative posts and tried to explain that the wall is the issue and what it does..... not where is is located.

It might be published in the next couple of hours. If it is, I will add it to the bottom on this post... or you can go to :
http://www.rapidcityjournal.com/articles/2009/08/03/news/2009_sturgis_rally/news/doc4a774bacd4302269735821.txt?show_comments=true#commentdiv (probably have to cut & paste).. and read the article and the comments.

Thank you for listening to my opinion on this. I hope I have shared some personal things that might help educate or help with feelings about that time in our lives...

Jay

PS-- Later post added ... WOW, I guess my post to the editor was too inflamatory, degrading, insulting to some, or just posted by an idiot (me)... You see, they refused to post my letter. There are those of us (Vets) who need a voice but my letter was not only pulled (for what ever reason) but removed for futher postings to be added. The liberals win again. The Viet Nam war was ugly and liberals want to forget it ever happened. There are those of us that thinks this is stupid (maybe I should say "stupidly" done") ;-)

Well, I had my say and I will shut up for now. That is until I find another soap box........

Looking for a Killer - a short story by me!!!!

2009-07-31T14:24:00.002-06:00

I sitting here this morning and was deciding what I should write about today. I thought of posting another story I had already written when I thought - NOPE

I will write a special story (a murder mystery) just for y'all. I finished it about 10 minutes ago and only Molly has read it (for approval). So here is my story written just for you guys..... hope ya like it ... jay
...................................................................................

Looking for a Killer
By Jay Wilson ©2009

John was looking for a killer. He was looking like everyone else. The police, neighbors, and hundreds of others were looking. Everyone who had seen the report of the horrific murder of Kathy Johnson; John’s wife wanted the killer brought to justice. The story was plastered in all the newspapers of how her body was found in a small creek near her home. Some children playing were crossing the small bridge when they made the horrible find.

In the weeks that followed, police interrogated everyone associated with Kathy including John. But no leads came from the questioning. They looked hard at John but he understood. The spouse is always a suspect in cases like this. The Johnsons seem happy enough. There were no suspicions of an affair or money problems. All the neighbors stated the same thing; almost word for word. The Johnsons were almost a perfect family. Even their 4 year old twin boys were like little angels. But there was no motive and he had an alibi from a man at a bar who swore he had seen John near the bar about the time of the murder … and the bar was across town. There were no loud noises or fights to report. If anything, all the neighbors were somewhat jealous of John and Kathy. They seemed to live a charmed life.

That is probably why everyone was so shocked about the killing. She was brutally beaten to death with a two foot piece of re-bar steel. She wasn’t robbed or raped. The murder was simply being struck eight or nine times with the piece of steel and left in the small creek. Police surmised Mrs. Johnson had been walking near the creek when she was attacked. The strikes came from behind. This added some credence to the belief that the killer might not have been known by Mrs. Johnson. Someone she knew probably would have attacked face to face … unless she tried to run to escape the killer. John didn’t eliminate anyone. He wanted the killer found, convicted, and get the lethal injection.

The police felt the murder might have been committed by one of the homeless transients living along the creek about half a mile south of the bridge. Sometimes they drift up the creek looking for things to steal and sell. But if it had been them, it would stand to reason Mrs. Johnson would have been robbed. The detective in charge of the case ruled out a rapist because she had not been violated. Of course, the theory of a serial killer was hinted at as well as just some crazy who didn’t even know what he was doing.

In a short time, John turned from all his friends and neighbors. He even avoided his family. John felt he could not face anyone until this devastating crime was solved. He loved his wife and kids. He was thankful that his twins were staying with his mother on the day of the murder. At the funeral, she had offered to keep the children until John had time to cope with the tragic loss of his wife. It was taking longer than she expected but she was okay with that. The boys were welcomed as long as John needed time.

John walked passed the murder site several times but he just couldn’t look down from the bridge. He was afraid of what he might see. On this day he was walking across the bridge and stopped. He knew he had to look down if he was to ever have closure.

One thing bothered him over and over. He knew he had not been at that bar on the day his loving wife was killed. It also bothered him that he could not remember where he was at that time. He had made up the story of being on the other side of town because he knew how guilty it would seem by saying he didn’t remember. He didn’t want the police to know he had been having severe headaches and memory blackouts. But he knew he had not hurt his wife. He loved her with all his heart and soul. He just wished he could remember where he was that day. And he was glad that the man in the bar thought he had seen John there. He kept John from having to answer some tough questions.

With tears in his eyes he looked down below the bridge near the bank where his wife Kathy had been found. There was still some blood stained grass showing the exact location. He heard the sirens before he saw the police cars converging toward him. He thought to himself … hoped to himself that they had news about who had killed the mother of his children. He felt a sudden and strange peace within himself. Yes, he knew they had caught the monster. He knew he would grin when the law executed the offender.

Smiling, John looked down into the slow moving current and saw something that scared the hell out of him. Sobbing, he clung to the bridge railings. He wiped his eyes and looked down again. He remembered. He didn’t understand why or how but there he was in the water. John saw the face of his Kathy’s killer.

Old ugly Jay was a artist model?? You gotta be kidding.

2009-07-30T11:47:00.003-06:00

Yes, it is true. But hey... even ugly people can be models ;-)

What brought this about? Well, I received an email asking why I had a picture showing me with a lady and a painting of myself on my blog. I decided to use my blog to answer this question.

Back in 1990, I was contacted by a lady who owned a painting studio in central Texas. Being a living history teacher, I had appeared at many places dressed in `time-period' (1800's) clothes while giving classes. At one such place in 1988, this lady asked me to pose for some pictures so she could paint some paintings of me. I did. This was the same lady who contacted me in 1990. She was looking for a model and she wanted me to pose at an artist class in Austin Texas for pay. Yep, they wanted me to sit in a chair while holding a pose over 5 days at 4 hours a day. I agreed. Sounded easy.... it wasn't. It was hard work!!!!

I was one of three models who was used for a Daniel Green work shop. Mr Greene is a world renown artist. see http://www.danielgreeneartist.com/introduction.htm . To model for him is a great honor.

Over a period of time I model for Mr Greene numerous times and even help find other models for him. He traveled state to state and give these classes. I became his Texas model. Again - a great honor. I continued until I was injured and it ended my career with him.

On occasion I still modeled for others but I did this on a low scale. I will add a few pictures of some of my painting. I know of paintings of myself being in Mexico, Spain, Canada, England, and many, many in the U.S.. I have even seen my `Mountain Man' hanging in a Mexican restaurant and a series (4) hanging in a Hospital. One such painting is used as an advertisement for a local Texas artist's studio in Victoria Texas.

Me, I'm no good-looking guy but I do serve as an example that ANYONE can be a model. Heck I was even asked one time to pose in the nude (YES - NUDE).... My answer was simple - "You don't have that much pink paint". I can only imagine the pink would have turned more a red though....

Hope ya enjoy this ol' ugly boy's pics....

That Kind of Man - a poem

2009-07-29T22:25:00.000-06:00

This is one of those `requests' from one of my female friends. She wanted another poem from the stand-point of a woman's perspective. The poem was to be a woman explaining why she married the man she did.... I hope you enjoy..
................................................................

That kind of Man
by jay wilson

One day my son asked " Mamma, How did you meet my Dad?"
I thought for a minute. I wanted him to know what I had.
"He walked into the dance hall, swaying with the Band.
I knew he would steal my heart. He was that kind of man."

"We danced the night away and he asked me to be his wife.
I answered yes and I would be his for the rest of my life.
He was good to me and worked hard planting and farming the land.
He loved you kids and never complained. He was that kind of man".

"Each time I think about him, walking into that Dance,
How he strutted `cross the floor, almost into a prance,
I `member how my knees turned to jelly and my feet turned to sand.
and how life without him was nothing. He was that kind of man".

"I remember him telling me, how he loved the shine in my eyes.
and I thought, you're just a Devil with all your sparkling lies.
But he made a good companion, him with his smiling face so tan".
And I'm so proud, these 25 years, that I have that kind of man."

They say I'm a `cut up'. Wood you?

2009-07-29T10:49:00.005-06:00

I have always had a desire for doing things with my hands... Note that I didn't say talent. Anyway, I decided as a 10 year old kid that I wanted to learn to `carve' things out of wood with a pocket knife. Yep, I probably became the greatest stick sharpener in the world. If a wild animal ever attacked, I was ready. Then came the the gash I carved into my finger. Okay, a bandaid covered it easily but my momma decided my whittling days were over... and they were!

Then in my 30s this urge hit me again. Oh I had been carrying and cutting things with my pocket knife but never really created anything before. I heard about a club of folks who did carving and whittling near by. I joined and have been hooked for over 30 additional years. The first thing I learned is the difference of whittling and carving. Carving is using different cutting tools and whittling is using only a pocket knife. I liked the old ways and went with an `OLD TIMER' (three blade) pocket knife. I also learned why whittlers always have bandaids in their pockets. I wasn't the only one who cut things other than the piece of wood.

Over the years I have made so many caricatures, dogs, lions, horses, and other `stuff', I couldn't count them. I also taught others to whittle. I will attach some pictures of some of my creations. Don't judge too harshly. Like I said I had a desire.... I didn't say talent.

I have taught whittling at schools, churches (summer), and at libraries. One of the attachments is a picture of me teaching my Pre-K grandson how to whittle on a piece of soap with a dull knife.

Anyway, it is a neat hobby that I still enjoy. The picture containing two horses, a lion, and a dog were things from the last couple of weeks. I also have learned to `whittle' soapstone (soft rock) into peacepipe bowls and fetishes. But that's a whole 'nother story..

Here are some of my pics... hope ya like them. ;-)

My First Quilt - kinda

2009-07-25T10:02:00.009-06:00

It was back in 1953... maybe 54. I was just a kid. Like most boys, I got into everything. I was staying with my Grandma and as I said... I got into everything. She planned to keep me busy so I would stay out of her rose garden. I always pulled the roses off with too short a stem. Grandma was finishing up a "Cover Quilt". She was the only one who I remember using that phrase, that was what that quilt become known as. It was pulled tight in an overhead type, wooden quilt frame; stored near the ceiling by four small ropes.

Grandma had to lower it to work on the quilt. She was hand tying (rather than hand quilting) the TWO outer pieces together (no batting) thus the name Cover Quilt. Only a piece of purple (yes, I said purple) cloth was placed inside the two outer quilt pieces. It was a thin `quilt' that was used more as a pretty cover on a bed rather than for warmth. The quilt pieces had been sewn using a Singer sewing machine. BUT the ties had to be hand-tied. That's where I came in. Grandma put me to helping her do the thread ties. In and out - tie ... In and out - tie. Yep I could do that. And I loved it but the work (to keep me still) instilled a special love in me for quilts and quilters. Did I mention that my Molly is a quilter ;-)...?

I have made a couple lap quilts for gifts to friends but mostly I work/help others with their quilts. BUT MY CLAIM TO FAME is that I have NEVER - note once - used a sewing machine on a quilt. Everything I have ever made and every stitch I have put into a quilt was done the old way ... with a needle. It takes me a lot longer than most everyone else but that is my way. Molly and I have made a lot of quilts for `city functions' and non-profit groups. Of course the quilt squares have to be machine sewn for time reasons BUT we hand quilt the rest. Molly probably won't tell you that. She probably won't mention that she had hand-quilted with the Lakota friends up here or with our Amish friends in Texas. Hmmmmm I wasn't invited. I get stuck talking to the guys .... you know - fishing - hunting - politics - etc... Did I mention I like to quilt???????

Now let's see ... where was I????? Oh, I was talking about my first `worked on' quilt with my Grandma. Anyway, the quilt went somewhere way back then but it resurfaced many years later when my Mom gave it to me. She had acquired two quilts that were family heirlooms; one was a quilt made by my Great-Aunt and the other was the one I worked on with my Grandma... It had come home and I still have it..

It has a few squares that are deteriorating but the rest is okay. We don't use it.. It is to be passed on MANY, MANY, MANY years from now to one of our kids.... Did I mention the "many, many, many" part????

I will try to post a picture of the quilt and another of my Grandma but not sure how...... Molly always helps me and she's not here now. If I can't, she can do it for me a little later.. The picture of Grandma was the last picture of her before she died... about 3 years after our `quilting' together... She is standing in her rose garden celebrating her birthday. At 61 years of age, I still miss her.. I guess God needs quilts too.

Gotta run for now ... later ... jay

PS ...............................
I posted the picture by myself .... the last time I felt like this .. well, I was helping my Grandma tie a quilt ;-)

Fishing with my "Bestest Bud"

2009-07-22T15:11:00.008-06:00

Hi all,

I was reminded of a little story this morning while watching TV. It was a story about the relationship between a grandfather and his grandson. And that reminded me of this story.

It was in the summer of 2001. My grandson, J.D. was 4 years old. He pretty much hung with his grandpa (me). We had a small lake near where we lived and I used to take him up there fishing. Mostly he caught perch and small catfish. Now to under stand this story, you have understand JD isn't just a regular kid. He is special ... in his heart. He is one of the kindness, most thoughtful children I have ever met. And that's the real story here. But on with the story......

I would bait his hook and cast out the line. JD would wait patiently until the cork bobbed and he would yank the rod to `set the hook'. Then he would reel it in and the process would start again. On this day, I didn't even fish. I was just enjoying the memories we were making.

JD was being very successful and quickly brought in 9 perch (see picture) in about 30 minutes. The little fish were hungry this morning. A small group of children had gathered around, watching the action. Most were younger with some about the same age as JD. There were NO OTHER adults around... go figure!! The kids started cheering toward the 6th or 7th fish. When JD landed his 9th fish, I removed it ... pitched it back out into the water and rebaited the hook. JD looked up at me and and asked, "Do I have to fish anymore?" I thought that strange because he was obviously having a lot of fun. I asked if he was tired of fishing and wanted to go. He answered, "No, but is it okay to let the kids fish?" I said yes........

For the next hour, one after the other took turns and fished. I baited the hook and cast the line then JD coached the child on landing the small perches. You would have thought we were 10 miles out at sea; fishing and landing Marlin. JD was the perfect `Captain of the boat'. He told each child when to come up and helped the ones that couldn't hold the rod and reel.

With everyone satisfied with fishing, the kids all took off for other adventures, leaving me and JD loading the truck. On the drive back home JD told me he enjoyed fishing with the kids. I told him I was proud of his sharing.

He looked up at me and said, "Grandpa, you are my bestest bud". And we have been bestest buds ever since. Each of my grand kids have their very own special name with me. BUT JD is my only bestest bud!!!

By the way, JD and I have always had a special connection. All the family knows and understands why.

You see, in 1999 I received a special award from the Texas EMS and the Texas Health Department. It was a one of a kind per year. I received the award for saving my grandson's life.

But that's another story!!!!! But if ya want, you can look at the picture below. I am holding JD receiving the EMS award at the Texas EMS Conference in Austin Texas. Sorry - bad picture from disposable camera.....

Yep, look at how he has hold of my shirt.... we are bestest buds.....

My best as always

jay

Non-PC - If guns offend you - DON'T read - You won't like it!!

2009-07-20T07:53:00.003-06:00

Anyone who knows me, knows I love to collect and shoot old types of guns. I mainly enjoy muzzleloaders and 45-70s (cartridge of the 1870's). I also enjoy shooting the pistols of the pre-1900 era... even compete. BUT, I also like modern guns; pistols & rifles.

Now where is this going? We all know it is an unpopular stand to say we like guns. We also know it is unpopular to promote guns as anything other than unsafe and something people shouldn't have. Well, I never was accused of being politically correct. In fact, I'm tired of having someone, somewhere else telling me what I should do and not do, as well as what I should think. I like to think that I am intelligent and can see the facts well enough to make up my own mind. Guns are one of those `dangerous' topics where it is easy to `rub' people wrong. Still, I must have my say!

I am sick and tired of all the false facts about how well the `Brady Bill' had worked. Folks, It's not doing anything except pulling the wool over America's eyes.
The Government released information on how well the Brady Bill has kept guns out of the hands of Criminals. THEY claim 69,000 gun sales where prevented due to the background checks on people. That sounds like 69,000 `BAD CRIMINALS' had to do without a weapon. Sorry, I'm not that stupid. I'm sure there was that number of blocks but there is a little more to that story.
The Bureau of Justice statistics stated that the rejections made up 2.7 percent of the 2,547,000 applications nationwide for handgun sales during the year. Of that 2.7 percent, 61.7 percent were refused due to felony convictions or indictments. The rest were turned down for a variety of reasons, including domestic violence & stalking convictions and fugitive from justice charges (a `catch-all').

At first glance, it would seem that the law is working. Sorry, no cigar! How would it be working? Are we so naive that we don't think these `bad guys' just go somewhere else? If you want a handgun, YOU CAN GET IT! I bought handguns in Yorktown Texas ... with no waiting period. Anyone can. You don't need a `new in the box' gun to commit a crime. In fact, as a criminal you wouldn't want one ... it would be registered to you in your name. Criminals are smarter than that in most cases.
Again, how is it working? The General Accounting Office found only seven convictions as a result of the Brady Bill in it's first 17 months and only three of those felons saw the inside of a jail cell. That's a small number for a federal felony that comes with a 10 year prison sentence. You see, what happened to all those 69,000 bad people? If they were convicted felons, why aren't they in jail?

I have never believed that the Brady Bill would ever do anything except make law biding folks who would like a pistol for home defense wait 5 days. Why do we have to wait .. the criminal doesn't have to. Bonnie Elmasri was told to wait for her pistol because of the Brady Bill .. she and her 2 sons were killed by her abusive husband the NEXT day.

Due to `Political Correctness', guns have been made unattractive. You former smokers and drinkers should understand about those `normal' people looking at you with disapproving eyes.

I'm not against background checks before buying a handgun .. or ANY gun. I'm not against stopping felons from getting guns .... there has always been a law that felons couldn't own guns. I know; I was a cop. I would just like to have the whole truth. And make laws that work or get them out of our lives

I understand some people don't like or fear guns... and fear who has them. I AM NO DIFFERENT!!! I choose to have the ability to defend myself and protect my wife. Have I ever had to??? YES - on several times. I have had to pull my `concealed weapon' three times since moving to South Dakota. Each time I stopped a bad guy and THEY went to jail. Oh, and yes I have a permit. Do I think everyone should carry guns.. NO! There has to be a check system. That's why you have to have a permit. Bad guys don't worry about permits... or laws... or YOU if you're unarmed.

If you don't believe common citizens should be able to carry legal weapons and that was enforced - I would not be here writing this today.

I understand all the arguments against guns. But when this is weighed out, the right to carry wins hands down. I don't have to manipulate the facts to win that fight. If you choose not to have a gun in your home... that is fine. I choose to.

Think about this.... if a home invader is checking out your home, do you think it would make a difference if he thought you MIGHT have a gun for protection?? It would make a difference to me as a criminal... But then as a 16 year veteran cop, I think a little like the criminals do....
Sleep well ;-)

ps... did I mention the second ammendment???
It was Thomas Jefferson who said, "a government who fears guns in the hands of it's people, is a government to be feared".

A Voice and Lesson from the Past

2009-07-15T20:53:00.006-06:00

Hi all,

I was reading some of my old columns from when I was writing for a paper in South Texas. This column from TEN YEARS ago was as true back then as it is today. I feel we as adults have a responsibility to our youth (blood kin or not) about drinking and the dangers of it. We had a young, vibrant girl die in a collision. The city was shocked even though this type of death was becoming too common. A letter appeared in the newspaper that struck a cord with me... the following column was the result.....
ps- I substituted the name of the city with x-x-x-x..... for personal reasons.

..........................................................................

Porch Talk 02-24-99
by Jay `3 Bites' Wilson

I read a `Letters to the Editor' last week in this paper that bothered me and I felt I had to speak out. I speak for myself and only myself.
The letter was written by a concerned student who voiced an opinion of how she, as well as the student body of x-x-x-x, felt about the picture of a `Car Accident' on the front page. In that collision a x-x-x-x High School Student lost her life. It is a sad thing to lose a child or any loved one in any fashion but ... in a senseless collision, the word tragic just isn't enough. Such a loss can not be measured in any way by the simple use of words. Her fault, their fault, or my fault doesn't matter now. She is lost to
us but there is a lesson to be learned.
I agree one hundred percent that the photo showing the car smashed and upside down was a horrible thing. Any scene depicting the place of a death is horrible. I have seen dozens and dozens of them due to serving as a Police Officer and as an Ambulance Attendant for many years. They each tear a little part out of you and it never heals.
I feel for the friends and certainly the family of the young lady who's life was snuffed out in her prime. Their loss is great and not understood by most. The loss of their daughter is a burden they will carry for the rest of their lives. Memories of her will make them smile on good days and bring tears on the bad ones. And sometimes, the smiles will come anytime as will the tears.
I found myself looking at her picture in the obits. She was a pretty, bright, and a well liked person. In her short sixteen years, she left her mark on the world and on the hearts of many. It is sad that none of us will ever see where she could have gone due to a senseless wreck.
A photo of the car was taken by a local news person which is customary for the paper. A decision was made to put it `front page'. The photo told the whole story. But then, maybe there is the reason why the picture was and should be located there. Words can't say what the photo did.
I do feel for the students that were `shocked' by the picture. But maybe, just maybe, a lesson was not taught, but SHOWN to our x-x-x-x youth. The picture only emphasizes what the writer of the `Editor Letter' stated:
"The life of a teenager with many dreams was lost. It is an awakening to all of us. An awakening that came too late. There is a problem in this town with drinking..."
That was a great letter that voices concern for our youth ... by our youth. There have been many things written in magazines and newspapers. I have used my column to try to raise an awareness. Still these useless wrecks take place. There were two that same weekend with one having a happier ending. Still, there's too many lives being lost.
If a picture of an upside down vehicle scares, shocks, or horrifies one student into driving a little more safely, than so be it. The picture was not put there except to draw attention to the tragedy .. and it did. And after reading about this most special sixteen year old and talking to some of her friends, I believe she would want that picture on the front page. I believe, if that photo could get the attention of all her friends and that `shock' saved one of them from dying in a collision, she would approve. She cared for too many people for me to believe anything else.
I know this column is going to be hard for the family and for that, I apologize. Some will think of me as callused, some will think of me as not understanding. They would be wrong on both accounts. You see, this column is not easy for me to write. I have shed tears and fought emotions while writing it. I do understand what it means to bury a child. Molly and I buried one of our sons. We don't like to talk to people about it because it's personal. However, if talking about it in my column would serve a just end, I
would.
The author of the `Editor Letter' should be praised, She wrote a fine letter with many thoughts that most of our x-x-x-x students, as well as adults, don't want to recognize. We do have a problem and I feel good that some of our youth has stated it. It's not the solution but it is a beginning. They passed the ball. Now what are we going to do with it?
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I received more comments on this column than any 10 columns before (all supportive). And the ball did get rolling to help our community..

my best
jay

Patriotism - a couple poems

2009-07-13T15:40:00.003-06:00

Hi all,

I'm sure most of you have already figured out that my patriotism runs deep. I'm one of the `crazies' that flys the American flag every day in front of my apartment. In fact, when I was told that I had to take down my flag pole, I just made an attachment on the rear of my car (van) where I now fly a 3'X5' flag. I do love my flag and country. Heck, I'm an old Marine -- what would you expect???

I thought I would paste a little something (poem) that I wrote about a week after the 9-11 attack. It is how I felt then and do even today. This poem has been posted in several web sites.... I guess my feeling weren't alone.. Hope you enjoy..

...................................................................

The Day America Cried
By jay wilson (copyrighted)

I have seen wars ugly face
from a point way too near.
I have felt it all around me
and I have felt the fear.

But nothing ever made me question
as a nation, we are safe inside.
That was before New York City
and the day America Cried.

Terrorist struck at our hearts at home
by an attack upon our land.
The `Towers’ was one of the targets
and, now, they no longer stand.

The Pentagon was next to be hit
and even more people died.
I have never felt so helpless
on that day America Cried.

Then more words came of United 93
That crashed into a Pennsylvania field
It was the fourth aircraft high-jacked
And all aboard were killed

We know now the passengers aboard
Fought back and how they tried
They rode that plane into the ground
On the day America Cried

Unlike the `Towers’ the USA didn’t fall
and it will rise above this deed.
With the burning of the Pentagon,
The terrorist only planted a seed.

It is the `Seed of Retribution’
and it will serve as our avenging guide.
The `Bastards’ will pay dearly
for the day America Cried.

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I also wrote this next poem and it too is displayed by others... in the VFW and Am L...

A Soldier's Mile
by jay wilson (copyrighted)

A soldier's mile is a long way
It's farther than you'd walk
A soldier's mile isn't a distance
Yet longer than the flight of a hawk

There is an old saying about life
"Don't judge till you've walked in his shoes"
A soldier's mile is a hundred fold
And measured on how it was used

Most won't understand a soldier's mile
It is something that you have to live
It has to do with seeing hell
And going till there's nothing else to give

If you can imagine staring into the dark
And knowing that death is waiting there
But you saddle up and hit the bush
And go out as if you really don't care

A soldier's mile is hell on earth
It's seeing things no one should
It's going in-to certain death
And it's coming out when no one should

A soldier's mile is a state of mind
That no sane person would desire
It can cripple a man without a wound
It can sear and burn without a fire

A solder's mile is to remember too clear
Of those who didn't come back
A soldier's mile is to worry each day
Maybe it was because of knowledge lacked

A solder's mile is to hear each night
The sound of your friend’s screams
A soldier's mile is to pray to god
That maybe tonight you'll have no dreams

I guess it could be called a distance
With the measure scaled by the tears of pain
It could be figured in degrees by a doctor
Somewhere between being crazy and being sane

All I can say for sure about it
Is it's farther than I thought I could go
And now it has become my secret
A secret that only a few of us know

Navajo Code Talkers (American Heros)

2009-07-06T13:56:00.012-06:00

Hi all... Well, I haven't been around much lately. I would like to thank everyone who has read my blog so far. I plan to continue but as I said.. I haven't been around much lately..

I have been very busy with my doings with the PATRIOT GUARD RIDERS and the events we do. We have had a lot of funerals lately and I always stand in a Flag Line for our fallen warriors. But sometimes we get to do real fun things like on July 3... I was honored to be a part of a personal Honor Guard for 3 Navajo Code Talkers from New Mexico. These were some of the Indians who used their native tongue to fool the enemy (Japs) in WWll. These guys were Marines from a different time from myself as a Marine. Still, all Marines are brothers and I was treated as such. Meeting these guys was really special to me and I was humbled in their presence. We loaded them into vans and escorted them to Mount Rushmore for the July 4th Celebration - Police leading the way... a little note - this was the first time I flew my Marine Corps flag along with the American flag in the caravan. Usually, I fly the American and MIA-POW flag. I flew the USMC in honor of these men..

By the way, I would enclose some pics of Mount Rushmore BUT due to the fog all everyone saw was (as one person put it) the Northern Lights. There was nothing but flashes in the sky... You couldn't see any of the 25 minute show. Too bad. It really is one of the greatest in the U.S.

Anyway, thought I would share one picture with you. The man standing by me is truely an American Hero.

Bye for now

jay

You may have to cut & paste to see the following links

for an idea of what these men did for you and me - see the movie `Code Talkers'

information on Navajo Code Talkers - http://www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq61-2.htm

information on Patriot Guard Riders - www.patriotguard.org/

Last installment of `The Wink' part 4 of 4

2009-06-24T15:13:00.003-06:00

Hi all,

Thanks for hanging around for my story. I hope ya didn't get too bored or sleepy... and no, I don't need any pats on the back or comments. I just wanted to share.

Oh, and I did warn that someone might get more out of this than the others... read on and find out what I am talking about. he he he he he

.............................................................................

We could talk there. I was so tempted. I gathered up all my strength and said no. I am going home and think about this. As much as I wanted him, I knew deep down that I had to get away from this situation. As I got into my car, he leaned against the window and told me that he would be back here at the store at nine in the morning. He would wait for me and we could go somewhere to talk. I knew talking wasn’t what he had in mind. I nodded and drove away. I had to think about this. I have a husband and kids to think about. But then what would a little fling hurt?

I guess I was still a little shook when I stopped to get the girls. Mom asked me if I was okay. She told me I looked flushed. I had to smile at that use of the word `flushed’. The thoughts I had been having lately made me feel like something to be flushed down the toilet. I tried to tell Mom that I was okay but being a mother, she stayed on the inquisition. She wanted to know if everything was okay between me and Ted. I told her we weren’t having any problems. Again, being a mother, she wanted to know if I had missed a period. Somehow mothers always head in that direction. I assured her I was not pregnant, sick, or suffering from some incurable tropical disease. Mom finally backed off of me and we had a nice cold glass of ice tea. But even with the decline of questions, Mom kept studying me. Christ, I hope she can’t read what’s been going through my mind. I gathered up the kids and drove home. My thoughts kept bouncing around between good sense and passion. I know what I should do but I have missed the passion in my life. I know you probably don’t agree but I, as a human, should have the right to happiness even if that means a lover on the side. Right?? When I asked that question, I knew I needed help.

I felt the need to talk to someone who could give me some good, sound advice. I pulled in to a McD's parking lot. I knew I could talk here. I called my dear friend, Becky. She is one who loves her family and husband dearly. She is a caring person who I know I could trust. We have talked many hours while quilting together. The subjects varied from sewing & quilting to life, family and husband. She was an inspiration to me and probably never knew that. I love my husband and kids yet I never seemed to have that glow when talking about them like Becky did hers. I called on my cell phone. She answered. I could hear the grandkids in the background. And even though she was babysitting, she had time for me and to listen to my story. For over an hour, we talk. She was very sympathetic but denounced what I was thinking about. I asked her what to do. She gave me the most simple answer.... Talk to your husband. Communication is the most important part of a marriage. How can one fix a problem if they don't know there is a problem? I had my answer and headed home.

Ted came in a little early from work. I had just started supper when he walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He didn’t say anything for quite a white. I looked around at him and found him watching me. I smiled and that seemed to open the floodgate of discussion. I told him that we needed to talk. We sat at the kitchen table and the words flowed. He was great; he listened.

After a few minutes of silence, he said he want to apologize for being such a horse’s butt. He went on to explain how much he loved me but recognized his obsession with work. It was explained that all that was going to change. He found the old me during last night and that had brought out the old him. And he didn’t want to lose it. In our talk, I found that he had missed all the things we used to do just like I had been missing them. For the first time in years, we talked. We talked through supper and talked after the twins were put to sleep in their beds. We both were letting our feelings be known of how we have felt for years. We had just existed in our marriage and we each found we wanted more. Ted was who I loved and he was the only man who I wanted to make love with. What we had is so much better than just passion. Sex without love is just sex. But to love that person you are with only enhances and intensifies the sexual act. That is called making love. Sex is something two dogs can do. But making love is special and that’s what Ted and I did after we quit talking. And he was ever bit as romantic as he was the when we first married. I held on to him like there was no tomorrow .. I wanted him to love me and he did. He controlled my body and my mind. There was no John in my bed tonight. There was only the man I loved; the man I married. There was nothing more to say .. except `I love you’. And that said it all.

With my girls in tow the next morning, I walked into the HEB and went to the snack bar. John was sitting there sipping a cup of coffee. His white teeth flashed when he saw me but quickly disappeared when he saw that my daughters were with me. I walked up to the table and smiled. He stood and asked if this demonstration was to be my answer of `No’. I resented his use of the word `demonstration’. I will admit I carried the girls with me for support but I would have turned him down even if I had gone alone. Becky and Ted helped me to see the light. I told him that while I did enjoy his company, it was best to walk away like nothing had ever happened. And then the bastard had the audacity to say, `Hey, your loss”. I turned and walked out of the store and went home. I was proud of myself. I had conquered my weakness. Oh, I’m sure that the time will roll around when I wonder `what if’. I might even daydream about the tall, dark man who winked at me. But when it all comes down to life and living, I have a husband who loves me and children who depend on me. And that’s enough.

Well, that’s my story and you may judge me as you will. But this could happen to you too. Oh, you’ll say it could never happen to you. That’s what I used to say too. And as far as fantasies, I don’t fault anyone who uses their imaginations in their marriage; even if it would be used to produce an imaginary lover. Heck, it might even help put a little spice in life. It might just add that spark which kindles a fire in your love life. But for me, my biggest turn on is with my husband when he comes in from work and kisses me. And then he gives me a wink. That’s when I know he’ll be checking out the tomatoes later.

........................................................................
Surprise Becky, you're famous!!!!!

Well, there it is. An (almost) adult story with a neat lesson. One thing about me and my Molly, we talk. That is such an important part of marriage. Okay ... enough with the lecture. I hope y'all enjoyed my little flash into my mind of imagination.. I'm thinking of doing another. We'll see!!!

bye for now

Part three of `The Wink" (one part to go)

2009-06-24T10:49:00.004-06:00

Hi all,

This is the third part of FOUR parts which means it will soon be over. Will temptaion win out or will the lady come to her senses? You'll know soon..

.......................................................................

His hand felt good and made me warm but this was wrong. I knew I had to get out of there. When his hand had moved farther up my thigh, I pulled away and stood up. I knew my face was red. John was a smooth operator and he was after me. I saw it now. I asked to be excused and walked away. I left the store and wasn’t aware John had followed until I reached my car. He apologized profusely. He accepted the blame and said he went overboard with his intentions. I told him I was happily married. I know I didn’t sound very convincing. My actions had all shown that I might be on the prowl. He read me right. I was bored and John was the most exciting thing I had experienced in many years. God, his eyes seemed to look deep within my soul. I knew he didn’t believe me. I saw it all now. He planned to have me. Neither of us ever mentioned the fact I wear a wedding ring. To him, my looking him over at the produce had told his male instincts that I could be bedded. I really couldn’t blame him for reading me that way because that was in my mind too. I wanted this fantasy lover in the worst way. And he knew it. There was a chemistry between us.. no, chemistry was not what this was. Chemistry is a science. What I was feeling was plain old sexual desire.

I tried to tell John that this had to end before it led to anything more serious. Every argument I made for us to stop this encounter, he would give me a reason why we should continue. And he made sense. There would be no commitment. This would be good for both of us. He felt safe because I wouldn’t put the demands of a girlfriend on him. And as a married woman, I could have the best of both worlds. I was so mixed up. I really wanted this man. Hell, I felt like I had already been to bed with him when I was with Ted. And John’s words seemed to wash away the guilt and make this passion I was feeling okay. He took my hand and told me how he wanted to spend time with me. He said he needed me as much as I needed him. I kept looking around the parking lot. I knew a lot of people who traded at this store and I was afraid of being seen. John must have realized my concern and suggested we go over to a trailer house that he uses for his office.
............................................................................

Hey, this has been fun for me. As said above, this one will be over shortly. Working this short adventure has been interesting for me. When writing a story one thinks of the begining and the end... then put some meat on the skeleton of the story (fillers). That's easy. But when I had to break this into four parts.... where does on do that. There has to be something at the end of each part to draw readers back. I hope I have done this.

BUT BEWARE!!!! the fourth part hold a big surprise!!!!!! and might even affect ALL OF YOU ..... OR MAYBE JUST ONE OF YOU.....

Part two of `The Wink'

2009-06-23T18:42:00.003-06:00

Hi folks

Here is part two of the continuing saga of a lady with a fantasy rolling around in her head .. and heart. A true test as to what she believes strongest. The real test will be, if she believes in herself..

...................................................................................

He smiled with the whitest teeth I had ever seen. His eyes were dark and piercing. The man reminded me of Rhett Butler in `Gone with the Wind’. And he had Rhett’s look, like he already knew what you looked like under your clothes. I took the can and thanked him. And then, again in less than 10 minutes, I made a hasty retreat. All the way home I thought about the tomato man. God did I think about him. He was such a gentleman and charming … and handsome. I felt bad thinking about him. I know that was wrong but he had really gotten under my skin. I had no intention of letting these ridiculous thoughts continue or of ever seeing him again. But the mystery man ended up in my bed that very night. Well, not physically.

Ted and I had a routine evening of ho hum talk before we went up to the bedroom to go to bed. Mom volunteered to keep the twins overnight so we were alone. Out of the blue, Ted suggested a bottle of wine might help me to calm down. He related that he had noted I seemed a little tense and distracted this evening. I had not been aware of my acting differently until he mentioned it. I did feel uneasy; all evening. I couldn’t get the winking guy out of my mind. Those white teeth and his firm body just kept popping up in my head. I found Ted had brought a couple of glasses up when I came out of my shower. He handed me mine and left to go take his shower. Damn, I wish he had brought the whole bottle. By the time Ted came out, both glasses were empty. I needed it. He just smiled, left the room and then reappeared with the rest of the bottle of wine. We sipped the rest of the Sangria. I felt warm as Ted turned off the light. I turned my back toward him but then he shifted forward against me. He laid his arm over my should and I trembled at his every touch. I kept having flashes of my tomato guy being the one rubbing my shoulders; my back. As Ted’s hands began searching; the anticipation was tremendous. We held each other like it hadn’t been since our first year of marriage. He was everything like he used to be before the new wore off. He tried .. he really did. After, he went to sleep with a satisfied smile on his face. I, on the other hand, fell asleep with the face of my lover fresh on my mind. It was face of the man from the store. I felt guilty.

When Ted left the next morning to go to work, he started out the door, paused, and came back. He kissed me deeply. Wow!

After he left, I called Mom and told her I would pick up the kids about noon. That was fine with her. I figured I would go and finish my shopping at the HEB, since I hadn’t picked up everything I needed. That man in the produce had really gotten to me. He had even entered my bedroom last night during our love making. I felt so guilty and it wasn’t fair to Ted. It was Ted who made me feel good last night; not some stranger. I had to put this guy out of my head. I grabbed my purse and left the house with a reinforced attitude. I parked in the same lane I had the day before. As I walked past the space where I dropped my groceries, my stomach turned over. Oh my God, I didn’t have this under control like I thought I had. I had a problem. This couldn’t go on like this.

The grocery store had a small snack area and I headed for it. I needed a cup of coffee really bad. I sat at a table and sipped my cup. Jesus, I wished I still smoked. I hadn’t had a cigarette since I met Ted. He had helped me quit. But right now, I could have used one. This was getting totally out of hand. My obsession with the winking guy was childish and very immature. Besides I am a happily married woman with children. Boy how I wished for a cancer stick. I picked up my cup of coffee and sipped more of its hot contents. My eyes scanned the room and in the middle of a swallow of coffee, I saw the tomato man sitting three tables away from me. I choked and spit coffee all over my table. There I was gagging and choking when he rushed to my side to offer aid. Well, I made a fool of myself in front of this guy in the produce area, at my car, and now, here I was choking to death in front of the man who had taken control of my life. What else could happen? Well, it did! As I tried to stand up to escape the spilt coffee, I tipped the table toward him and the dark fluid raced to find its way to the front of his khaki pants. I hollered, he hollered, and everyone in the place looked at us.

I could go on and on about the idiotic scene that unfolded but, to be honest, it just happened so fast. Well, everything except that coffee flowing toward those khaki pants. That was all in slow motion. Anyway, one thing led to another and here I was sitting at another table, across from my mystery man. And I truly don’t know how we ended up there but I did feel I owed him an apology and a cup of coffee; in a cup, not on his pants. I must admit we laughed about how our `coffee encounter’ had happened. The joking eased up the tension I had been feeling. During our visit, I discovered John was a local contractor and had even completed several projects near my home. His occupation explained his build and tanned face & arms. He had been widowed about 2 years before when his wife was killed in a traffic accident. John was a nice man. He was well read and seemed educated far beyond that of being a contractor. The more I talked to him; the more I realized how dumb I had been in my reactions toward him. John was just being friendly and I had misread this man as a lover fantasy who was after me. Well, it was only a fantasy; kinda. The more I sat there I found myself really liking him. And I should have let well enough alone. As I looked into his eyes, his sexuality crept up on me again. John was talking about a Bar-B-Que place he frequents and I wasn’t hearing the words. I was imagining the smell of his neck; the taste of his kiss; the feel of his arms around me. When his hand closed on my leg, I came to my senses.

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Okay.. soon will be the third installment of `The Wink'. I do have to admit, Molly has made me change a number of things in the story. She says it had a little too much salt... about half a salt shaker ;-) ... I hope you like the story but with Molly curtailing the salt, I will still try to keep a little pepper. After all, everyone like spice, don't they.

later

Part one of a short story - 'The Wink'

2009-06-23T10:54:00.005-06:00

Molly asked me to put one of my short stories in my blog so that's what I will do... besides I want to too. I thought I might start with a part one of a story called `The Wink'. This story is a strange story in itself. I have a group of people who I email new stories and poems to for them to comment on as to how they like it. This group chose to start this group by their choice; not mine. The group consists of mainly ladies who worked at a Texas hospital where Molly and I worked also. One of the ladies wanted me to create a story from a woman's point of view. She said she wanted the story to be as if a woman had written it. The story, `The Wink' was born. It's a little colorful in one place but it is an important part to make the story evolve. I'll post part of it a little at a time. Might take a couple of days or 15 minutes. I'll let the mood guide me... By the way - I have Molly montoring my stories so I don't get too salty.. Hope y'all enjoy..

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The Wink
By jay wilson ©2005

Now, I am hoping you won’t judge me too harshly. I am a devoted wife and mother of two of the most precious 4 year old twin girls that you can imagine. I am happy with my husband of 7 years but lately things haven’t been so good. Wow, I can’t believe I said that. I do love him but sometimes that, alone, isn’t enough. I guess the events over the last few days have made me realize a lot of things. It’s like that old saying, “you can’t miss what you haven’t had”. That sounds dumb when I say it but it is true. I guess I should start at the beginning if you are to understand and maybe not be so critical of me and what I did.

Like I said, things haven’t been so good between me and Ted. Over the last two years, Ted pays more attention to his job than me. In fact he pays more attention to anything and anyone other than me. I don’t really understand how it started going downhill but when it did, it spiraled out of control. He hardly kisses me any more and I’m not talking about sex. He will leave for work and I’m lucky to get told goodbye; much less a kiss. Our private life isn’t very exciting either. Oh, it’s good enough but I haven’t seen fireworks for a long time. Our bed activities are more like an obligation once or twice a month. I want him but the fire seems to have gone out. The desire just isn’t there any more. When we first married, he was very attentive to my needs and that was just fine with me. God he could make the world go away and take me on a high better than any man I have ever been with before. I used to playfully call him `ready Teddy’. All it took was a wink and he was there. But like I said before, somewhere we lost it. I felt he no longer thought I was attractive after the babies. I felt that my body no longer turned him on. I needed to be desired. I guess that’s why John got my attention. But I need to slow down. I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had left the twins with my Mom so I could do a little grocery shopping. I was in the produce section of the HEB when I first saw him. A tall, slender man was standing at the tomato display and was feeling each one. I guess he was checking for freshness. Anyway, he was dark and had that confident look on his face like he knew what he was doing. I don’t know but there was something about him that just seemed to infatuate me. I kept sneaking little peeks at him as I moved along the aisle. He was probably 10 or so years older than me. He wasn’t that built but did appear to be in good shape and tanned. His colored T-shirt revealed the man’s developed chest and arms. I guess the young girls would use the expression that he was a `hunk’. For some reason, he really had gotten my attention. I wasn’t thinking about intimanty or wondering what he looked like bare-chested. But I will admit, I wondered how he kissed. I know it sounds stupid but that has always been my thing. Back in high school, I wouldn’t go out with a guy again if he was a bad kisser. But I was usually a good judge as to how good they would be. Looking at my mystery man, I knew he would be great.

My eyes were still roaming over him when I glanced back up at his face. My God, he was looking at me and saw that I was watching him. He winked. I cut my eyes away and hurried to the checkout line. I wasn’t through getting my groceries but I made my hasty retreat to escape my embarrassment. I glanced back in the direction of the produce section and I didn’t see the man. I paid for my two bags of groceries and left the store. Just as I got to my car, one of the bags slipped from my fingers and spilled out on the pavement. I guess the man made me more nervous than I thought. As I began to pick up the can goods, I realized my hands were trembling. I smiled to myself and thought how dumb I was being. I was acting like a 16 year old school girl before her first date. I reached for a can of soup that, I’m sure, had rolled just far enough out of my grasp to make me stretch out for it. As my fingers tickled the side of the run-away can, a hand, attached to a tanned arm picked it up. I looked up and there stood my `winking guy’.

note: stay tuned for next part
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A little fun note: Over the years I have had LOTS of stories sent to me written by people. Some I knew - most I didn't. I guess they think I know something about writing because I was writing a column. While I REALLY do believe anyone can write - there are those exceptions. I learned that some people cheat by finding a story somewhere and putting THEIR name on the story. I have even found two of my short stories published on a couple of web sites under someone else's name. I don't mind my stories being shared as long as my name goes with it. But then, how did I find these stolen stories??? - simple ... highlight a couple of sentences off a suspect story and hit copy. Go to a search engine (I use Google) and paste it in the subject line. Hit enter and the search will bring up even site that has those EXACT words. You can check any story to see who wrote it and/or published it in this way... If ya wanted too ;-)

My Molly

2009-06-21T14:15:00.003-06:00

Hi all,

Many of you know that Molly has MS and ended up paralyzed from the neck down. She has made a wonderful recovery to the point where she is now. Again most of you know about her comeback.... and then her comeback from not being able to see. She is strong. And these thing were in just the last 2 years.

I thought I would share a little something I wrote about her 4 years ago (before the blindness and MS... It is long but if you want to know Molly, it's short...

This is the Molly not many know:

I would like to tell you about someone special in my life - Molly. While I am the type to stand out front, Molly is very content to stand back and watch me make the dozens and dozens of Living History speeches in the course of our 35 year marriage. She chooses to stand back in the shadows… and happy to stay there. Molly is great as a helper and partner in everything (and I mean everything) with one exception. If the problem involves my bleeding… count her out. I’ll give you some examples.

Once many years ago, I was shot in the chest with a 22 cal rifle bullet. We had been walking in the field out by our home. We heard gunshots off in the distance. At one point, I felt a sting and burning sensation on my chest. I was wearing a yellow tee-shirt. I looked down, thinking a bee had stung me. A small bright red dot quickly formed into a bright red shirt from the blood. I told Molly to head to the house. She kept watching me and I kept telling her to get me to the house and I would guide her forward ahead of me trying to not let her see the blood.. Once at the house, I raised my shirt. She took one look and set down. She could not stand to see me hurt .. especially if I was bleeding. I went into the bathroom and examined the hole directly over my heart. The ricocheted copper-jacketed bullet had penetrated my shirt and into my flesh. A small bleeding hole was all that could be seen but I could feel the hard metal object in the flesh, against a rib bone. I gathered my `tools’ and commenced to cutting. A razor blade was used to enlarge the entrance wound opening. With my son and daughter’s help the bullet was removed. Both of my kids (10 and 13) watched and helped as the procedure was done. Molly sat on the couch with her head in her hands. I lived, the kids learned, and Molly made a full recovery. ;-)

I remember one time when I walked out on our porch and my `bad’ knee gave way. I fell head first into a `nose dive’ off the 2 foot high entrance and straight into an air conditioner placed there the day before on the ground.. My head found the only sharp edge on the item and it commenced to carving a lasting memory on my noggin. The two inch gash was just up into my hairline above my right eye.

Anyone who has ever had a cut on the face knows they always look worse than they are. A head injury bleeds profusely regardless of the size of the cut. I had a pretty good sized gash and it poured out my life’s blood, covering my face, my bare chest, and down to my blue jean shorts. I don’t mind telling you that I knew this was trouble .. not the cut .. but Molly. I had to go through her to get into the house. Holding my bleeding head, I barely opened the door and called her name. I waited a few seconds and added, “Honey, please bring me a towel” and I added for good measure, “I’m okay but I’ve cut myself”.

As soon as the words departed my lips, I knew that last part was a mistake. She came straight to the door, opened it and looked at me. She turned ghostly white, turned around and said, “Oh, I have to sit down”. And that was how it went. I walked through the house to the bathroom dripping blood on the floor and cleaned myself up. I probably needed 3 or 4 stitches but I’m not one much for going to doctors. I prefer to do it myself.

I placed `butterflies’ (tape) to hold the wound closed. I finished up, including cleaning the bathroom due to all the blood. My next job was Molly. I went in and she was sitting on the couch, wringing her hands. I took her in my arms and told her I was okay. She squeezed my neck so tight that my head couldn’t bleed anymore if it wanted to. She apologized to me over and over about not being able to help .. and I felt sorry for her. She wanted to help but blood coming out of me – well, she just couldn’t handle it.

Now you need to understand. This phobia of hers about my bleeding is as real a fear as a person who is afraid of snakes .. or spiders .. or of heights. Molly was not a `wimp’ by any stretch of the imagination. I have seen this woman clean her babies’ and grandbabies’ dirty diapers when I had to leave the room gagging. She’ll clean green, gooey snot off of any child and she’ll hold my head when I am throwing-up with a bad case of the flu. Molly’s tough. Never doubt that.

She has stood beside (not behind) me when I fought shoplifters in a mall and chased a kidnapper down a street who had stolen an infant. She has nursed me with 105 degree temperature and emptied my `bed pan’ when I was bed ridden. Molly never left my side while I lay in a `morphine induced’ comma in a hospital for 14 days. I take that back, I did wake up one time and she was gone. When she walked back into the room, (in my drugged state) I accused her of `running around’ on me. I made her cry. She told me she had been trapped in an elevator. I didn’t believe her. Morphine had a way of making a person act like a fool. And she forgave me… Later, I found that her elevator episode was the talk of the hospital in Austin Texas.

Another time she stood beside me when I was confined to a wheelchair for almost two years. She was there when I tried to get through the doors of our bank in my chair and there was a two inch concrete lip that I couldn’t get over. I became very anger and turned over in my chair (I wouldn’t let anyone help me – too much pride). I fell to the sidewalk, picked up the chair and threw it into the road. I crawled to my car and pulled up in to my passenger’s seat. Molly walked out into the street retrieved my chair and put it in the back. As we drove away, she reached over and patted me on the leg. I knew everything was going to be okay. The bank president came out as we drove away. Two days later Molly got a call from the bank. The concrete lip had been repaired to allow a wheelchair to enter.

She was braver than me when my surgeon told us that I never would walk again. And she stood tall and backed my decision to have surgery on my broken neck even though the chances were slim that I would live through it and even if I did, I ran a high percentage of being paralyzed from the neck down. Molly knew I would choose death over being bedridden for the rest of my life. She told me she would back anything I wanted to do. She was my strength and courage.

She stood tall beside me when we buried a child that no one else knew about for better than 10 years. It was a boy, a son who left us too early. A doctor would have said this was a miscarriage. The child was formed well enough that you could see his little finger nails and eyelashes. No, it was a death of a person .. a child .. our son.. His name IS James Mark Wilson. I took him into our wooded area and gave him a Christian burial.

Once we almost lost our Grandson, JD due to a Bronchitis blockage in his trachea. His breathing had stopped and I had to clear the blockage and breathe for him. I was working on JD while Molly drove the car toward the hospital, 12 miles away. I was busy doing what I had to do with JD and didn’t need to worry about traffic and stop signs and the like. Molly drove and I could not have asked or desired anyone else who could have done better. I have worked in the back of ambulances for many years with a professional driver at the wheel. Molly could have driven as well and safely as any run I had ever made. And it was her grandson dying in the back. I was awarded a `heroes’ award by the state of Texas and she got nothing. But I couldn’t have done it without her. She was the hero..

If I had been half the husband that Molly has been a wife to me, well I wouldn’t worry about getting into Heaven. God will judge me harshly for many things I have done in my life. But I don’t worry about Molly. I know God takes care of people like her. Molly has wisdom about her due to her life before she met me. She had a great Mom and Dad but her troubles started when she married her first husband during her senior year in high school. It is not for me to say the details but I laugh at people who claim they have had hard lives. Molly could teach them about hardships. With an abusive husband who was usually drunk, she cared for her two kids and protected them from the harms of the world. Sometimes, it cost her scars. Sometimes, she was pushed into deep water – Molly doesn’t swim. Between abuse, fear, and hot checks by husband, Molly lived in a `survive today’ world. Her life during that time would make a true `tear jerker’ movie but you’ll never hear her complain or talk about it. That was what was and this is now. But I will add for my own amusement I finally had the chance to whip his butt when we caught him sneaking up to our home. When it was over, Molly just smiled … and gave me a hug. Payback is a wonderful thing no matter how it comes about or by whom.

I have always been one to chase dreams. Many I found and some, I’m still looking for. Molly has always backed my decisions and chased the dreams with me. In many ways we still are and always will. To the top of the Rockies in Colorado to the bottom of a volcano in New Mexico, we continue. From tornados to floods to hurricanes, we continue. From her family’s homeland in Tennessee to my family’s homeland in Mississippi, we continue. From a 3-story home to living like `settlers’ in a tent at a pioneer village, we continue. From teaching the Kickapoo Indians in Texas to working with the Lakota Youth Council in South Dakota, still we continue. Life is an adventure but all adventures don’t have happy endings. I was working in a Pioneer Village and fell.

In that fall, I tore a muscle in my right shoulder. My left one was also torn in the same injury but would have to wait. After surgery, I didn’t think I could `clean’ myself in the bathroom and told Molly I probably would have to shower each time to maintain to decent hygiene. She didn’t bat an eye when she offered to help me; with paper or shower. I didn’t let her BUT SHE WOULD HAVE.

I live in constant pain and try hard to hide it from her. But sometimes it is a little more than I can hide. Every so often she will see I am having a problem with pain in my many joints. I have seen the tears in her eyes… and that hurts my heart more than the physical pain I feel. She always smiles toward me and remorsefully says, “I’m sorry”. Molly is truly a good person.

She has, on her own, stood her ground for what she believes. She has put her life in serious danger to protect the ones she loves. And yes Molly fights for those who she doesn’t even know. And you’ll never hear her talk about it. Her generosity is as large as her heart. She used to carry our kids down to Wal-Mart every year to have each of our children pick a child from the `Angel Tree’ to buy a Christmas gift for. She taught our kids to have a heart toward those who do not have. And I swear there were times she spent more money on gifts for others than our own home. Our kids NEVER complained. And today our kids have passed on those values to our grandkids.

I remember Molly talking to a relative who thought he had a bad life. He had played the game of being a tough guy with the drugs, booze, and problems with the law. He had lived on the street and he wasn’t welcomed back into his family’s life. He ranted and raved about what a tough life he had had. He said no one had lived his kind of life; no one understood. I remember Molly just smiled and the two walked off to talk. Later the boy went home to his parents; changed. I have never asked Molly what she had said to him. And even if I did ask, she would probably just smile and give me a hug.

Molly is my partner in life and I cannot say that loud enough. She is a teacher who has a unique way of reading people. Her heart bleeds for those who are willing to learn and has very little patience for those with closed minds ... but she doesn’t give up on anyone. I have seen her fight to help people who never knew she was in there for them. Molly is one that does not take credit unless thrust upon her. She has the awards and certificates, and letters to prove it. But no one will see them … it’s not her way.

She was `awarded’ one of her Indian names because of her demeanor. Her adult name is `Peace Maker’. She had earned that name many times over. Her second name is `Many Horses’ and is a spiritual name. That name is in honor of her Cherokee ancestor who was bought for seven horses. I would pay many more than seven horses for Molly any day.

Molly has always been my `partner in life’. The Mountain men used to have an expression that I think fits Molly and how I feel about her. They would say about a good partner who they trusted absolutely and without question, “You will do to ride the river with”. That’s how I feel about her. Given any situation, I have no doubt Molly will stand beside me. With gun, knife or tomahawk, she would be there. I guess I should add she has won Texas State competitions with all three of the weapons I mentioned.

I’m sure you wonder how I can feel so strongly about her if she can’t even help me if I’m bleeding. Well, if my life was truly in danger…… she would be there. This I know, because that very thing happened … many times.

I took on a radical group (I won’t use the name but YOU know them) in my front yard. When it got heated, I looked around and there stood Molly with a shotgun. Then there was the shoot-out when our car was being broken into. Molly stood beside me through the whole thing. Then there was the time our community had had a series of burglaries. Because of a phone call, we knew they WERE coming to our house. We loaded the guns and waited - side by side … but that’s another story for another day.

There once was a man from Nantucket 8-0

2009-06-19T20:44:00.005-06:00

Hi folks...

So you're back for more punishment..... okay, here goes,

By now you know I like to write. I also like poems. I have written over a thousand to date. I create the rhyming type. You know ... mary larry - bob cob - plain rain type. I also do limericks (no girls - the nice kind). Well, Molly wanted me to write a few for her and being her sweetie, of course I did. Now she ORDERED (oops, I mean requested) me to post some of them since they were kinda aimed at her and her quilting friends - yes.. that is you guys. So through my embarassment - here are a few:

Quilting for Blogs

Quilters like to chat on their blog
While phone chat always get clogged
I really like to read `em
You just can’t beat `em
Well, it is better than taking a jog

There once was a quilter named Joe
Seemed as good as anyone you know
His stitches were tight
And his design – a delight
But admitted he bought them at a show

Molly is my wife, as I’m sure you know
She challenged her hubby to learn to sew
So I grabbed a needle and thread
And soon my finger freely bled
Now I sit with my head hung low

Mary had worked on a special square
She made it for her “big ol loving Bear”
But when she gave it to him
He really risked life and limb
When he used it to wipe the lid of his beer

Now when it comes to quilting, my friend
Me, as a guy can quilt better than most men
But I have to agree real fast
When competing with a lass
If I win, I feel like I committed a sin

I once had a friend tell me I was funny
For Easter, I was quilting a little bunny
If that nut thinks me strange
Well, I ain’t gonna change
Besides his ignorance makes him a dummy

Me and the wife agreed to take in a show
I like movies and quickly got ready to go
But the theater was not in her plan
She said “A movie? this is better than”.
And you NEED to see more quilts, you know.
So much for my being a poet ;-)

Once in a blue moon - - and so forth

2009-06-18T23:24:00.000-06:00

Hi all...

I like to write and will write about most anything. Shucks that's how I was a columnist for four newspapers. I thought I might share one of my columns with y'all to kinda give you the flavor of what I do.

The following column appeared in a newspaper down in Texas. My column was a human-interest type and was called `Porch Talk'. The articles were about what folks talk about while sitting out on their porches. In other words - just about anything.. Hope you enjoy..........

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Once in a blue moon, there's someone who gets my goat but I have learned to keep a stiff upper lip. I've learned to keep my eyes peeled, don't cry over spilt milk because tomorrow is a whole new ball of wax. If someone thinks they can put ants in my pants, the son of a gun had better believe it'll be in a pigs eye.
Oh, by the way, I like cliches. In fact, I just used nine in the preceding paragraph. First, go back and see if you can find them ... and then read on.
I do like cliches. Most of the cliches that I use on a day to day basis pertain to history. I really never knew or cared where they originated or how long ago they were first used. I just liked them.
Probably the most common one I use is, `flash in the pan'. I know it comes from when a flintlock rifle is to be fired. A frizzen (hard metal surface) is struck by the hammer (jaws holding a piece of flint) and a spark is produced. When the spark falls into the pan (bowl on the side of gun, holding gunpowder for ignition) the gun is supposed to discharge. Sometimes just the pan ignites with a flash of burning gunpowder but the charge in the gun does not. It is called `a flash in the pan'. As a cliche, a `flash in the pan' means something that happens does not produce a desired effect.
Molly, knowing my love for cliches, gave me a very special book for Christmas. It is called, `The Dictionary of Cliches' by James Rogers. It not only lists 2,000 of the most popular cliches, but also their meanings and origins. I thought I might share a few with you as written in the book.
"1. APPLE OF HIS EYE - a cherished person or object, in old English the eyes pupil was known to be the apple because it was thought to be spherical and solid. Since the student
is a crucial and indispensable portion of the eye, it serves as a symbol of something cherished. An example in the Coverdaly Bible of 1535 (Zechariah II,8) is; "Who so toucheth you, shal touche the aple of his owne eye." The expression also appears in Deuteronomy XXXII, 10 as part of a song spoken by Moses: He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness: he encircled him, he cared for him, he kept him as the apple of his eye.
2. BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY - Take it easy; steer clear of obvious risks. It sounds like an ancient proverb, but it apparently dates only from the early 19th century, when it was, "it's better to be sure than sorry." The version with "safe" was in circulation by 1933.
3. SO FAR, SO GOOD - Nothing bad has happened yet; the project is moving along satisfactorily. The phrase appears in Samuel Richardson's `The History of Sir Charles
Grandison' (1753)."
As you can see, there's more than meets the eye in cliches. So .... sooner or later if you decide to speak off the cuff and be a smart cookie because you smell a rat, remember to rise and shine even at risk of life and limb because the early bird gets the worm. Enough of that!!!

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By the way ... Molly also wrote for two newspapers as a columnist too. Maybe she'll share some of her `work'....... Boy oh boy - this is a fun way of getting back at Molly for getting me into this blog-thingy. ;-)

My thoughts about this blog..

2009-06-18T18:45:00.000-06:00

Hi all,

Well, I guess I am a blogger now. I'm not sure what I am doing but my wife, Molly is leading me down to road to `Blog Heaven'. She is here to see I don't make a U turn and head the other way. I think this is going to be fun.

As to what I am going to do along the way, I'm not sure but I am here for the ride. I may be posting ideas, complaints, recipes, and maybe some of my poems and/or short stories. I might even put a chapter from one of my two novels. I like feed-back .. even if you disagree with me. Sometimes I like being Devil's Advocate just to get folks to re-think their thoughts. Besides it's like the old saying; "In Business - If two partners always agree ... one of them is unnecessary" ;-)

I feel like I already know many of you due to Molly's Blog (Crochet,Sew, and a Bunch of Whatever)...

I love building things with my hands and I will try most anything. Molly and I ran a business (mail order) for better than 15 years. Molly's MS made her cut back but now she does things more as a hobby. She loves her quilting, crocheting, and other hand crafts. I still make and sell reproduction `artifacts from the past'. Some of the items would include peace pipes, shields, buckskin clothes, bows/arrows, and even a couple of bone crochet hooks for Molly. Mostly, I enjoy my writing and researching family history.

Well, I guess that's enough jaw-jacking for my first post so I'll say bye for now.

My best to all