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 |   On a daily basis... things that bump around in my head and make me go... hummm! |
My new blog:
This is not just a collections of personal musing but it is a place where I can vent. Talking about daily events on the local, state, and national scene is my way of letting off steam so I don't come home and kick the dog! We are all the Captain of our own "Ship of Fools." We go where the current of the times take us and we do what we must to be able to sleep at night. Now this Captain will speak his mind about that current and about the ocean on which we each sail....... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** {image: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** PLEASE MAIL ME YOUR VOTE FOR BLOGGER OF THE MONTH OF AUGUST. This is a shot of Me and Mel at our wedding. We were married in a simple ceremony on a deck overlooking Lake Livingston. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I am so proud of my new Siggy which was made by the very talented vivacious   . Thank you so very much for all the effort that went into this.** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This was taken from the wall in the Blogville Post Office. If you see this fugitive, please do not approach, he is armed and stupid. Contact the Blogville sheriff's office at once, then take cover! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** } ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| WARNING: THIS BLOG HAS NO CLEAR-CUT SUBJECT Okay, so now you have been warned; this is one of those "this and that" entries because nothing of any pressing importance is really on my mind. The first thing that comes to mind is to impart upon you unsuspecting readers a bit of news: Me and CC are planning a little adventure for your reading enjoyment so be warned! I will not share the subject of this adventure yet, after all that would spoil the surprise wouldn't it. Sufice it to say...THIS MIGHT BECOME EPIC IN SCOPE! If I don't kill him first. So what's next....Oh yeah! I think I want to share a little joke sent to me via the email by a co-worker with way too much time on her hands. I think you might enjoy this: Billy Graham was returning to Charlotte after a speaking engagement and when his plane arrived there was a limousine there to transport him to his home in Montréal. As he prepared to get into the limo, he stopped and spoke to the driver. "You know," he said, "I am 87 years old and I have never driven a limousine. Would you mind if I drove it for a while?" The driver said, "No problem. Have at it." Billy gets into the driver's seat and they head off down the highway. A short distance away sat a rookie State Trooper operating his first speed trap. The long black limo went by him doing 70 in a 55 mph zone. The trooper pulled out and easily caught the limo and got out of his patrol car to begin the procedure. The young trooper walked up to the driver's door and when the glass was rolled down he was surprised to see who was driving. He immediately excused himself and went back to his car and called his supervisor. He told the supervisor, "I know we are supposed to enforce the law but I also know that important people are sometimes given certain courtesies. I need to know what I should do because I have stopped a very important person." The supervisor asked, "Is it the governor?" The young trooper said, "No, he's more important than that." The supervisor said, "Oh, so it's the president." The young trooper said, "No, he's even more important than that." The supervisor finally asked, "Well then, who is it?" The young trooper said, "I think it might be Jesus, because he's got Billy Graham for a chauffeur!" Okay, come on and admit it...you laughed didn't you! I know you did, I heard it all the way over here. Oh, speaking of emails, I got this thing today from Tickle.com. It seems that one year ago Mel talked me into taking one of those silly IQ test thingys and today they sent me an email to "celebrate" my one year anniversary of taking the test....YEAH, RIGHT! The email then went on to tell me that if I would like to see a FREE, indepth, comprehensive report on what my score meant just "click here". YEAH RIGHT! Anyway, I clicked here. I did this mainly because I didn't even remember what I had scored when I took the thing. Well of course it wasn't that simple. What followed was me, having to click through about ten pages of "special offers" in order to get to the part that was supposed to be about my test. I finally got there and, sure enough, they had my test laid out and they had a long report telling me what each part meant. I scored 145 on the overall test. 1. Math: 80 to 90 percentile 2. Visual-Spatial: 90 to 100 percentile 3.Linguistic: 90 to 100 percentile 4. Logic: 80 to 90 percentile Sorry, Scarlett, they only had FOUR sections, not five the heathens! The funniest part of this thing was the list of jobs they said I would excel in: Great Jobs For You Because of the way you process information, these are just some of the many careers in which you could excel: Publicist Translator Graphic designer Teacher Broadcaster Public speaker Attorney Politician Okay, now that's just not right! No where on that list do I see "Door Greeter" and those last two careers, I won't even dignify with a comment! Another really funny part of this thing was the fact that they had the average scores of people by state and all the states' averages were around 112 to 113...except MARYLAND! It was about thirty points lower with an astrisk by the score. This denoted a disclaimer by Tickle.com stating that the scores of the people from Maryland who took the test were lowered because of some guy named CC who had insisted on taking the test and drug down the score of the whole state! Now you can read into that whatever you would like...just saying.... bye now! |
Off subject: Two days without blogging. What have I accomplished? I went over all twenty-one stories to be included in my anthology and fine tuned them. I wrote that stupid bio thing you have to include. I chose a picture to include for back cover. I deleted two stories from the list and added "Invalid Item"  by A Guest Visitor as the anchor piece for the book. Contacted professonal who is supposed to put all my stuff in the right format and order for Lulu to print and am waiting for their instructions. Not bad for two days. But I have missed you guys. So now I will blog....Blog: I wish I was a better writer. Like all the rest of you, I have read authors whose power of description brings emotions to life and enables the reader to actually experience what is written. I wish I could do that better. Have any of you ever wished you could describe certain emotions or moments in time well enough to ensnare the reader and make them believe they have actually experienced what you write about as they read it? Some of the things I would like to be able to describe in such a way: 1. A summer sunrise over a quite, still, lake in Texas. This is a magic time when the earth still clutches the cool of the night to its breast even as the huge, orange ball of the sun starts its climb into the sky, promising the opressive heat to come in the fullness of the day. To sit on the bank of that lake and listen to the changing of the guard as some birds and animals come awake and begin to stir, while others retire to sleep through the heat of the day. This is a time when a person's spirit soaks up the strength and promise of the day's dawning, the renewal of life that comes with the light...the promise of the day. 2. The feeling that a father has when he is present at the birth of his child. The fear and uncertainity that hangs in the air of the delievery room like a thick blanket, the helpless feeling of panic and of not being ready to be a father which permeates every fiber of your body and mind. Finally, to describe that burst of pride and joy which drives away all the doubts when the doctor places your just-born child in your hands. The knowledge that strikes you when you look into that child's bright eyes and you realize that he/she owns you, body and soul and the purchase was made, not with money but with that one look.....your heart was no longer your's alone. 3. That first kiss between you and your soul-mate. The first, tender touching of lips that unleashes a power that tears down walls built up over a lifetime of disappointments. The first tentative touch of tongues with their promise to give all and take everything until there is not two but one....two bodies, one soul. The way your heart races as you become, at once both conqurer and vanquished, for the rest of your life. There is no deeper or more profound feeling in the world. These are just three things I would like to be able to describe better for the reader. What about the rest of you writers out there...what are some of the experiences or feelings you wish you could describe better when you sit down here in front of this Magic Box and strive to bring words to life? |
| I was all set to do a blog entry about our "middle son", Sherman our young Lab pup but when I opened my blog I noticed that I had reached what for me is a milestone of sorts. I have reached 18,000 views of Random Thoughts, my blog. That number boggles my mind. This is the 398th entry and I have gone back over my past entries to review how this thing has progressed...I'm glad I looked back. What I found was that in the beginning, over the first 40 or so entries, I rarely got over two comments, in fact I remember thinking that the whole process was a bit pointless if no one was reading the stuff. Then I noticed that after awhile, the comments begin to pick up and I remember when someone pointed out to me the whole "stats" thing. That was an eye-opener. Suddenly I could see that I had quite a few readers even though I wasn't getting a whole lot of comments. It was about then that I decided to put more effort into commenting to my own favorite bloggers. After a week or so my own comments began to rise as other bloggers returned the favor and left me comments. What does all this mean? Well I think it is pretty clear...blogging is hard work. You have to put as much into reading and responding as you do in writing your own entry. This can be a problem when it comes to other writing which most of us need to do. We find our time strained as we try to work on all our different projects and STILL keep up with our blogging commitments. This means we have to strike a happy medium which allows us to work not only on our daily blog, but also our novels, short stories, essays and poems and trying to get them published...not an easy task, for sure. I read two very good blogs today; one by Nada  and the other by chalaedra which dealt with realizing our writing dreams and aspirations. Both of these blogs pointed out the need to balance our writing and make a concerted effort to make our dreams come true....the dream of seeing our work in print. I have made the decision to put a maximum effort into realizing my dream before I'm dead. This also means that I will have to be more disciplined with my time in order to make the dream come true. So I need to tell you here that if you notice fewer comments from me it is not because I don't like what you write, it is simply that I am using that time to work on my other projects that I hope someday to see in print. I am also going to not worry about a "blue month"...if I miss a few days, so be it. I really am going to be FINALLY doing what I came here to do...get published. Last of all...a word to you new bloggers, don't worry about not getting the comments at first. Just keep plugging away and reading others and commenting when you can. Before you know it, you will be getting all the feedback you could ever wish for. This is a wonderful group of bloggers here and they give so much support to each other every day.....they will support you too. Well that's it for entry number 398...One hundred and two more entries to go before this blog is finished....what a lovely ride it has been! |
"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings." As I am sure most of you know, the above quote is from Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and The Carpenter" and it was this passage that inspired me today. Reading this passage, I suddenly realized that it sounded like a very good description of a Blogger. After all, isn't that what we all do. We sit at our computers and we talk of many things. We discuss politics, religion, the pathos of life and the ordinary things of our day made extraordinary by our imaginations. We also do something else when we sit down and indulge ourselves in blogging; we open ourselves up to interaction with strangers. We become a part of a family of writers...bloggers from around the country and around the world and these people become a part of our extended family via the internet. For someone like myself, who has never been one to let anyone close to them, this action was at first daunting and frightening but in the end, this extended family has become important to me and closer than almost anyone, except my dear Mel, has ever become before. We share our ideas and our beliefs through our blog...we talk and others listen. Heady stuff, that! But, at the same time we read others and we listen to them too. Sometimes we learn, sometimes we laugh and sometimes we cry...thus is the power of blogging and of touching others over the distance of the internet. We have all been educated, we have laughed and we have been moved by other bloggers who have become our friends. Now one of the best bloggers on WDC (she is rated 9 out of over 1400)is facing a sad and daunting time in her life. Nada just learned that her Brother-in-law, Scott has been found to be suffering from not one but several types of cancer. Nada needs all the prayers, positive thoughts and uplifting we, as part of her internet family of bloggers can give her. So, while we talk of many things: of cabbages and kings or whether pigs have wings, let us also pause to give Nada a positive thought or prayer. After all, isn't that what "family" do for each other? |
| Molly isn't the only dog in my home with "issues" it would seem. Rocky, our baby GSD also has some issues of his own he is working through at the moment. It's his ears. Those of you who are aquainted with the breed know that German Shepard's ears, when they are grown, stand straight up, unfortunately they don't start out in that position and getting there is the struggle. When the puppy is born his ears flop downward just like a hound's and slowly they work their way upward but not at the same time and this can result in some very comical looks for the poor dog. Here is a picture of the position Rocky's ears are in most of the time now. It is called "Airplane ears". You will notice how they come up then out, thus the name because they resemble the wings of an airplane. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Last night Mel caught Rocky in this next pose. One ear up and one down. This lasts only moments before the uplifted ear again falls down with its partner. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** It really is funny to watch poor Rocky struggle to bring his ears into their correct position. It is almost as if the ears have a life of their own and operate independently of the poor puppy. Okay, well its cute and funny to me so you guys get to see it in my blog....go figure! |
| Obesity is a terrible decease which inflicts a large portion of the world's population. Sadly, my home has not been immune to the ravages of this terrible affliction. Molly, our five year old black lab, is a card-carrying fat girl. Now the normal three year old female of her breed should weigh somewhere between 50 to 60 pounds but our poor Molly tips the scales at more than 90lbs.! Molly is so fat that I can place both my hands, side by side, on her back with room to spare and I don't have small hands either. When frightened, Molly has always made a bee-line to the safety of the dark space under our bed. Unfortunately, now she can manage to clamor under the bed when frightened, but in order for her to get out again, I have to physically LIFT the bed up to allow her to bring her bulk out safely. Okay, if I am going to be honest, I will have to admit that most of Molly's problem with weight is my fault. I have always believed in feeding my dogs well. I would fill her food dish and watch as she ate everything but the plastic dish itself. It is also my fault, I guess, that I could never resist those big, sad eyes as she sat at my feet at dinner time. I always shared my food with her. Molly became a pro at catching any wayward crumbs that might fall from my plate but after awhile that wasn't enough and Mel was forced to cook enough for me and Molly both because I always gave her half my food. So now Molly is on a diet....can you believe that, my dog, on a damn diet! I gotta tell you, its as bad on me as it is on her. I have to ration her dinner to one scrawny little scoop of dry dog food which of course she can scarf down in one large bite. Then she sits there and looks at me accusingly as if she thinks I am trying to starve her to death. Gone, too are the days of her eating another dinner with me. Now all she can do is stare at me with those big, hurt filled eyes as I guiltily eat ALL my dinner and offer her nothing. I swear, one day soon she is going to snap and take a chunk out of my leg as I enjoy my steak and potatoes. I am just glad that she can't talk. I can just imagine taking her to a meeting of Overeaters Anonymous and have her get up in front of a group consisting of Chubby Chows and pudgy Pomeranian and declare: "Hello, my name is Molly and I am a food whore! I admit it here for the first time, you can own me for a doggy treat. I will not only let you in my house, but I will actually stand guard while you steal my master's sound system if you give me a can of dog food". Can you imagine how shameful that would be for me? Oh to think that I was responsible for bringing my faithful, four-footed, companion so low. But now there is hope. We have identified the problem and we are well on the way to bringing her some relief. As I said before, she is on a strict diet. She is also on an exercise regime of long walks.....well she walks the first hundred yards, after that I either have to carry her fat butt or drag her behind me. I'm wondering now if I can get her on that reality show: The Biggest Loser. I would love to see just how good those professional trainers are. I can just see Jillian, the female trainer trying to coax Molly to run up the side of a mountain or making her run on a treadmill for an hour or so. I guarantee that after about ten minutes of that Molly is going to put teeth marks on somebody! If this diet and exercise thing doesn't work I am seriously considering looking into gastric bypass surgery. I mean this is serious stuff people. Summer is upon us and there is no way she is gonna get into that little yellow bikini for a trip to the beach! |
| Republicans and Democrats....put em all in a big bag and shake it up and you can't tell one from the other! Republicans are for big business....Democrats are for big business too, the difference is they have become much more adept at hiding that fact. What? You don't belive me? Okay, the last time we had a democrat in the White House how many big parties and state dinners did that ole boy throw where he invited only people making minimum wage? Dems are all for a social program for any problem... as long as they don't have to deal with the poor on a one to one basis. If Big Business can't solve a problem then the Republicans are lost. I keep hearing things like: "Republicans have no heart!" Answered by: "Well, Democrats have no brains!" Personally I believe neither party has a clue. Both are so far removed from the reality of what really goes on in this country on a daily basis that they might as well be from Mars. I say we scrap both parties and just start over. Anyone here for bringing back the "Bull moose party"? I say we hold elections every four years for House and Senate and President...all at the same time. I know, I know...it would be a damn Chinese Fire-Drill...total chaos. Well I think, before we do that we need to "restructure" a few things. 1. Change the amount of money paid to elected Federal Officals....50k for the House, 75k for the Senate and 100k for president...total...paid over four years. 2. Close all loop-holes whereby these officals could take any money or gifts under the table. 3. Nobody seeking the job would be allowed to spend more than 50k in campagain adds...Total. 4. None of them could have more than two terms in office. I know the president is like that already, but with him, if his approval rating is lower than 55% after his first term He will not be ALLOWED to run for a second term. 5. And lastly....on any issue of National importance, the president must go on TV and explain the pros and cons then a poll is taken in which everyone HAS to particapate....the majority opinion rules (thus the name: Democracy). Okay....we do all of that stuff and before we actually DO it, we abolish the names: Republican and Democrat and go with one name: American. See what we would be doing? We would make the politicans in Washington RESPONSIBLE to the people. We would make the people RESPONSIBLE for the kind of government they have.....simple, right? Yeah, yeah, you're right....we would just muck that up too, but at least we could do so for less money and we would get the opportunity to share whatever blame there was for mucking it up. Now you understand fully, why I would have never made a politican...LOL! |
| Small dogs are much like small children; some love to bathe while others hate it with a passion. Which brings me to the case of Rocky and Sherman. Now Sherman, most of you will remember, is our yellow Lab who at the moment is still white. He was rescued from a life of neglect by Mel, my wife and the animal world's answer to Mother Theresa. Sherman is about three months old now and the only thing he likes better than exploring the back yard and digging holes is taking a bath afterward. The dog loves the water. Mel discovered this fact one day when she was home alone. She jumped in the shower and left the bathroom door slightly ajar. The next thing she knew, Sherman bounded through the shower curtain and began to happily splash around at her feet and chase the water as it cascaded from the shower-head. Now Rocky is a totally different matter. He, you might remember, is our seven week old German Shepard puppy who has managed to invade our home and our hearts in a very short time. Rocky also loves to get dirty. One of his favorite games to to sneak up behind Sherman and chew on his tail while Sherman is busy escavating the back yard in search of pesky moles. Unfortunately, when Rocky is back there playing with Sherman's tail, he is in the direct line of fire for all the dirt Sherman is throwing behind him with his front paws. We had a rain yesterday which made the digging easier but meant the animals were much dirtier by the time we brought them inside. This meant baths all round.....Sherman was happy; Rocky was less than impressed. Mel took them into the bathroom and ran a tub full of warm water. As I sat at the computer I could hear Sherman making happy splashs in the water and Rocky whining and yelping in dismay....yup, they were both in the tub. After their bath, Sherman allowed Mel to towel dry him and then he came bounding happily into the living room, ready to go a few rounds with one of the cats. Rocky, on the other hand, had to be wrapped in a towel and brought to me. Usually a live wire and full of enegery, poor Rocky was exhausted from the trauma of bath-time and I was forced to hold him in my arms with his little body still wrapped in the towel and let him take a nap. They say a picture is worth a thousand words so here is proof of Rocky's bath time. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The spoiled brat spent about thirty minutes napping like this. Everytime I tried to put him down, he would start whining and crying and would snuggle closer to me. The reason for sharing this little story with you is to point out how totally and completely a small, furry, creature such as Rocky can weasle his way into a person's life and just take over. Both these little guys might as well be children for me. I never dreamed I could get this attached, this quickly, to anything. Rocky is a talker. He will run up to me, sit down on his haunches and beging to yap as if he is either demanding to be picked up or just fussing about some real of imagined slight that might of befallen him. Sherman is just a happy-go-lucky galoot that is always looking for a new game to play or just the pleasure of having his belly rubbed. Rocky is sharp, quick-witted and notices everything while Sherman just lumbers along, oblivous to everything, with this big ole sloppy grin on his face and his tongue hanging out. See, just like kids, they each have their own distinct personality and quirks, but both make me smile on a daily basis. Like I said before, I never thought I would ever get like this about dogs or any animals but there you have it....I have to admit....THEY ARE MY BABIES....Gawd, how far I've sunk...LOL! |
| Texas, at the turn of the 20th century, was a state of contrasts. On the one hand we were just entering a modern age with cities like Houston and Dallas growing into urbane centers of cosmopolitan luxuries but once you left these population centers you would once again be plunged back into the days of the old west. The horse was still the main mode of transportation and though laws were changing, you could still find men who wore a six-gun strapped to their leg. Federal laws rarely touched the isolated farmers and ranchers while state law held only the most tenuous grip upon the inhabitants of the vast state. This was the world in which my uncle Earl was born into. Earl was the oldest son of my grandfather, S. Y. McClain and from an early age he had to battle the odds. Earl was about five years old when he was struck down with polio. The doctor, who made the long trip out to the family farm in a horse-drawn buckboard, did what he could for the child but informed his worried parents that there was little hope of the lad's survival. My grandparents were told that if the child lasted two months it would be a miracle. He lasted 68 years. No one knows for sure why Earl survived though many in the family attributed his success to the fact that his desperate father sought the help of two people well removed from the medical field of that time. One was an Indian shaman, or witch doctor and the other one was a River-Bottom healer. The Healer was what you might call the white man's equivalent to an Indian shaman. He was a hermit who lived in the Trinity river-bottom and practiced what we now call Holistic medicine, not to mention putting curses on people if the price was right. To the common, uneducated rural people of the time he was feared and respected for his powers while to the more forward thinking, civilized folks he was looked upon as a charlatan and a quack. Much the same could be said for the Indian shaman, whose methods and practices had been passed down to him over centuries of lore from his tribesmen. This did not deter my Grandfather, who was a staunch believer in both these men and their ability. Of course the regular doctor from town scoffed at this notion but he figured, what the heck, the child would die soon no matter what the two quacks did anyway. Earl lived. Oh he was terribly marked by the decease which had tried to take his life, but he lived. As a result of the illness and a very high and sustained fever, he was left with his left arm withered, the hand drawn up into a claw. He walked with a permanent limp from his withered left leg and he lost the ability of speech. But he lived. Now, in today's society my uncle would have been regulated to a life of a cripple; on welfare, unable to work....a ward of the myriad social programs until the day he died. None of that was available back then so he had no recourse but to grow up doing what everyone else did.....work, he just had to find his own way to be productive. Some say it was because of the treatments of the Indian shaman, but as the years progressed and Earl grew, he became more Indian than White. From a very young age Earl would spend his days in the forest, hunting, trapping and fishing. He would supplement the family's food supply with daily offerings of fresh meat and fish and he earned money trapping and selling the animal skins he gathered. By the time Earl was a teenager his outdoor skills had become known all over the county. When a rancher would have trouble with a cougar or a pack of wolves preying on his herd he would find his way to my Grandfather's door and ask for Earl's help with the problem (back in those days we had plenty of both these predators). Earl also developed his own way of communicating. He used the old type of sign language. This was the same kind of signing that had been used by the Indians when encountering people who did not share their language....like the very first white settlers to the land. This language was nothing at all like what is employed today. The hand movements were augmented by body movements and when done together, they told a story. You actually saw what the other person was trying to convey. I know that was probably a weak description of what he did but it is hard to put into words what it was like to converse with someone who painted pictures with their hands. Maybe I should give you an example: I grew up around uncle Earl and I can remember being about nine or ten and allowed to accompany him on one of his hunts. We were after squirrel that day because mom decided she wanted to make squirrel and dumplings for supper. Early that morning Earl and I walked into the forest and began our hunt. He left me near a small creek which had a pen-oak flat...the acorns from those trees were a favorite of squirrels. He went on down the creek to another flat to check out the squirrels there. I sit down under a tree and kept watch, waiting for the squirrels to appear but after about an hour I had seen nothing. About that time Earl came back, very excited. He raised his good hand, index finger extended and shook that finger back and forth while emitting a "Whooshing" sound, then he held up all five fingers. He then closed and opened his hand twice more. Then he motioned me to follow quickly. He had just told me "I've found fifteen squirrels at the other grove of trees, let's go get em." The extended finger and the "Whooshing" noise was his sign for squirrel. That is the way the animals tail would twitch back and forth and that is the noise they make when excited. He taught me this language. I could understand him completely when he would make the sign for a big buck deer or a doe. He would tell me the story of a hunt; describing the sound of the dogs and the way the buck bounded through the woods. His hand and his voice would mimic every aspect of the hunt so completely that I could actually SEE the scenes he was describing. I could see the large buck speeding through the underbrush and the excited hounds bounding along behind him. I guess you could say my uncle spoke in pictures but his "words" were clearer and more precise than any spoken word I have ever experienced. It was uncle Earl that taught me most of my woods lore. He taught me how to tell the size of an animal by his track and how old the track was...whither the animal was walking or running. He taught me the best place to find worms with which to catch fish and where the best place on the river to find the biggest catfish. My uncle never married and never had children but children loved him. When he went to town on Saturdays, he would invariably attract a crowd of kids who would follow him around as he made his purchases at different stores or sold his furs, during the season. He always took time with the kids, teaching them his signs, telling them his stories, always with a kind smile and a pat on the head for his favorites. I guess I was about sixteen when Earl died. He had moved in with his sister who lived in Houston, during his last years. His health was failing badly and he had to live with her so that she might be able to care for him but I will always believe it was being cooped up in that big city full of concrete and no forest that finally did him in. He just lost his will to live. There are times, even today, I find myself thinking about Earl and his free spirit. He was a part of a past time, he lived in a world that had actually died before he was born. He was a woodsman who lived a simple life and was a part of nature, not just an interloper. I miss our talks. |
| I didn't do a blog yesterday and I had no intentions on doing one today. Got up this morning with dizzy spells, nausea and been wanting to do nothing but sleep all day, so of course I didn't go to work. So what has caused me to change my mind and pollute the Blog Page today? That's easy. I was laying in bed watching Fox News and watched as the jury came back with their verdict in the Moussaqui case. He got life in prison without the possibility of parole. Believe it or not, I did not disagree with the verdict. Why kill the idiot and make him a martyr for his cause? Drop him in a hole and forget about him. This, in and of itself, would not have moved me to blog today but something one of the talking-heads on Fox said, did move me. One of the "experts" stated that now Moussaqui would spend the rest of his life in prison. He is a relatively young man and could spend the next 40 years behind bars at a cost of $100,000 a year! Why does it cost that much a year to house one man when many of us house ourselves on much less than half of that a year? I would have done one of two things. First I would have placed him in the general population of any state prison among the other inmates and let him suffer. Failing to do that, I think I would have found seperate place, a box, to house him and hire someone at minimum wage to show up at his box once a day and hand him a sandwitch....I bet I could have done it for a lot less than $100,000 a year. He deserves so much less, after all. There, that's my blog, now can I go lay down and wait for tomorrow? |
| It has come to my attention that I have inadvertantly fostered a wrong preception here at WDC. A number of folks have commented on my picture up there....the one of me on "MY" boat. I am very sorry to have mislead anyone. The boat in that picture is not MY boat, it belongs to a good friend of mine and that picture of me is one of several my wife took when we were in La. visiting my friend and his wife. The thing is, I love those pictures. I love boats period and I used the picture in my blog to augment my statement about us all being the captain of our very own "Ship of Fools"...I thought the picture fitted the phrase. I love the picture because for many years I have dreamed of just setting sail on some sailboat, shrimp boat, tramp steamer, ocean liner, canoe, kayak, or leaky bathtub to parts unknown. To experience, once more before I die, one more adventure. Boats do that to me....they make me dream. That picture you see up there is not really me...it is my alter ego, the guy who is devil-may-care, who sails toward the setting sun with a smile on his face and a heart that is full. That's not me. I am just a hard working stiff from Texas. A guy who knows what each day will bring when he wakes up in the morning. That other guy, the one in the picture, he is like a dream I had...I have...from time to time. Who knows, maybe one day Mel and I will finally manage to sail off into an unknown sunset, just the two of us, looking for that perfect beach where two lovers can while away their time before the ocean current beckons to them once more...to set sail...to dream...to love. |
| Your attention please: This is not a debate, this is a plain statement of my belief. If you believe differently, then God Bless and Keep you. I have nothing against anyone who wants to disagree and I believe you have a perfect right to disagree...just allow me the same courtesy. Now as most of you know PlannerDan wrote about the illegal alien problem quite eloquently this morning, in his own blog. I will tell you right up front that I could never come close to Dan's well written, well thought out entry, so I won't even try. Instead I am going to tell you just what I believe in plain talk, just like my daddy use to tell me. We don't need new immigration laws to stem the tide of illegal immigrants into this country, we already have a law in effect to cover this issue. The problem is this law is rarely inforced. Hello! For those of you who have been away for the past 50 years or so: IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO ENTER THIS COUNTRY ILLEGALLY AND TAKE UP RESIDENCE. IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO HIRE ANYONE WHO IS HERE ILLEGALLY. Now that is really all we should need. I don't give a big rat's butt where you came from, if you are in this country illegally, you are breaking the law and you should be arrested and sent back to your country of origin. If you are an American citizen who hires illegal immigrants, you too are breaking the law and subject to fines. Personally I believe that Americans who hire and exploit illegal immigrants for low wages should face not fines, but jail time. I will guarantee you that if federal marshals were to burst into the board room of Wal-Mart and other major corporations and arrest the CEOs of those companies we would see a whole lot more compliance with the existing laws and very little turning a blind eye to it. I have all the respect in the world for hard working folks who come to this country LEGALLY, work hard, and make a place for themselves in our society. I have no respect at all for those who break the law. Is that being prejudiced? Then you're damn right, I am prejudiced against anyone who breaks the law...then benefits from it. Now as for the Star Spangled Banner...Well that is America's National Anthem. The song was born in OUR revolution and it is steeped in OUR history. It is in English for a very good reason...that is our national language. Is that really so hard to understand? If you want to sing that song in Spanish, please travel over the border, into Mexico and SING YOUR LITTLE HEART OUT, but don't expect the rest of us to stand up and salute. If you want to live in this country do so legally and learn the damn language. We should not have to spend untold tax dollars making sure everything from road signs to school circulem is done in TWO languages. Companies should not have to insure that all instructions on their products be in english and spanish both as they do here in the Southwest. If we are going to do that then the only way to be fair to everyone in the country is print every dang thing in EVERY language of EVERYONE who has ever immigrated here. There you have it. That is how I feel on those subjects. I know full well that this site has a large number of Liberal thinking folks on it and you probably all disagree with me. If you feel so inclined to do so, please send all your silly hate mail to PlannerDan , after all he was the turky that got me to thinking about this anyway! LOL! |
| Shh, you hear that? That's right, there is nothing to hear....SILENCE. Ah, what a beautiful state of affairs! Not only am I enjoying the lack of puppy growls and barks, but I am also basking in the luxury of having no furry creatures draped across my feet as I sit here at the computer. Man, there is a lot to be said for the "Empty Nest Syndrome". If you are wondering about what brought about this Utopian set of circumstances well that's easy; $250.00 worth of net wire, 20 metal post, assorted wire clasps and about 7 hours of intensive labor. Today we built a fence for our back yard. Well we didn't fence in all of the back yard, only about half of it. To have done the entire back of the property would have taken about twice the money, or more so I settled for half the yard fenced. Now Molly, Sherman and Rocky are happily encounced in the backyard. Yes, Rocky is eagerily patroling the fence-line much like the main character in "All Quiet on the Western Front". He is ever vigilant for any enterlopers onto his territory....all ten pounds of him ready to do battle with whatever might have the bad manners to transgress upon his ground...animal, vegetable or mineral! Meanwhile, Sherman is experiencing a Zen moment as he tries to become one with the grass. Laying on his back, with all four feet in the air, he is squirming back and forth in the sweet smelling green stuff, this big dopey grin on his doggy face and his tongue hanging out from the pure joy of the feeling. Molly, on the other hand is simply being her old Obsessive-Compulsive self. She has made a complete circuit of the fence line, nose down to the ground, searching out unseen moles which she can hear digging under the ground. She will not be happy until she has the entire area within the fence looking like a lunar landscape. The bottom line is...they are out there while I, on the other hand, am happy in here. Yes, it was well worth the sore muscles, smashed fingers and border-line heat stroke I suffered. Unfortunately Mel has remained adamant, she will not agree to leave them there full time...sooner or later they will come bounding back inside. My only hope is that they will have emptied their little poo and pee storage bins by the time they return. Okay, I am wiped out....I have to go back to work tomorrow so I think its time for me to take a long hot bath and relax in my new found solitude...ah, ain't life great! |
| Yesterday was my late day at work but that's okay because it was also a very pleasant day at Wal-Mart. Business, for us, was slow yesterday so I wasn't as stressed as I usually am but the really nice thing that happened yesterday was that I got a surprise visit from none other than galinago who stopped by the store on his way home from La. Man was I surprised when he walked through my door! At first, of course, it didn't dawn on me who he was, I just thought he was another of the legion of consumers who pass me by each day in droves. To tell you the truth, after he first walked in the store he started making me a bit nervous. Here was this guy, who looked vaguely familiar, standing about ten feet from me and staring intently at my name badge. Well, honestly, this has happened before and I usually try to remain calm while backing slowly to the corner where my trusty can of mace is hidden away. Just then he moved closer to me (still staring at my name badge)which triggered a quickening of my backward shuffle to the aforementioned corner. I was almost there when he said: "Hi, are you David?" Now I had never heard galinago's voice, of course, but something in the way he asked the question caused a dim light bulb to flash on in my pea-brain and I finally why he looked so familiar: I had seen his picture displayed in his blog many times! "BRUCE?" He gave a big smile then and extended his hand...yup it was galinago. I relaxed and moved my hand away from its hover position over the can of mace. We managed to have a very nice visit...inbetween idiots! I was unable, at the time, to leave the door so we had to stand at my post and talk....poor guy had to dodge the idiots with me. I must say, he did seem to have a nack for the job, he didn't get run over by an electric cart once...he is very quick on his feet. Hopefully, in the very near future, we will get the chance to have a real sit-down visit...now that would be nice. Galinago...or Bruce as he is known in the real world, is a quiet-spoken, polite gentleman with a ready smile and a sharp sense of humor and I wish all of you could be as lucky as I was and meet him one day. If anyone out there has not yet visited galinago's blog, please do so at your earliest opportunity. His entries on the Flora and Fauna of the Southwest are not to be missed. He is a blogger who always has something of importance to share and he educates as well as entertains his readers. To round out the news of my day yesterday, I have to tell you of my Grand Experiment that failed.... I had this brain-storm yesterday and I decided to come home during my dinner hour...seven o'clock in the evening. I wanted to see if by coming home and letting the puppies out for a break it might cut down on the "accidents" Mel and I have to clean up when we get home late at night on Thursdays. Well I drove home (about 10 min. drive), ran inside and let both puppies and Molly out to do their thing... The two puppies just sit on thier butts, near the car and looked up at me as if to say: "Okay, so why are we out here again?" Neither of them did anything...nothing, nada, zip. I waited and waited until, finally I had to admit defeat and go back to work. Sure enough, last night after we both got home we had more ACCIDENTS to take care of! I swear, the two young ones are going to be the death of me yet! |
| The last few days a subject has been broached by a couple of our finest bloggers here in Blogville and I decided it was time for me to open my mouth and spew out my own opinions. The subject these others have written about so well is reviews on WDC. Like others, I have noticed a small cadre of reviewers on this site who delight in tearing an author down without any thought of doing what a review is supposed to do which is: point out strengths as well as weaknesses, give direction on how to make work better and offer encouragement to continue the struggle. I went back over five pages of the Review Page this morning and I found one reviewer in particular who seemed to delight in handing out Toxic Reviews. He/she (who knows) never gave anything over a two-star rating and their reviews were always negative to the extreme. I was curious so I made the trip over to this person's port even though I was already fairly positive about what I would find and sure enough, I was right. This person has two folders in their port, both folders consisting of two items. The first folder was two chapters of what they referred to as "their novel", both chapters were sad in the extreme. The other folder consisted of two poems and even though I know absolutely nothing about poetry, even I could see they needed a vast amount of work. This is the kind of person who almost always gives people those scathing, poison, reviews. They are almost always people who lack even the basic skills themselves; They tend to be wannabes, hangers-on, who can only be made to feel fulfilled by tearing down other writers who are honestly TRYING to better themselves and their skills. What is to blame for this trend of Toxic Reviews and nastiness? One only has to look as far as their TV to answer that question. Check out any of the myriad of Reality shows on the tube and you can see how nastiness and backstabbing are glorified. Then, of course, you have Simon Crowell who has found fame and fortune being overly nasty in his personal attacks on contestants on American Idol. Maybe some of our newer members see this avenue as their only hope of attaining any recognition here at WDC, who knows. It just occurred to me; what the hell has Simon Crowell done besides American Idol that makes him an expert? What is to be done about these silly people? A couple of courses of actions have been put forward. We could use the Revenge Review and all troop into the offender's port and decorate it with one and two stars but what does that do other than make the rest of us no better than the offender themselves. We could just ignore them and hope they go away. That didn't work with Hitler so I see no reason for it to be successful here. Ignore their Toxic Reviews and we give tacit approval of what they do. Maybe we should band together and form a reviewing group: The Anti-Toxic Review Group. We could monitor the Public Review Page and every time we run across one of these nasty reviews we could all go and do our own public review of the item. Anyone who has received one of these reviews can contact us and we will all go add our own reviews. Now maybe the item really does need work. Well if that is the case, we can all give the author SUGGESTIONS on how to make it better and we will do it with a gentle hand. We will uplift the author while at the same time pointing out what needs work. Help the author....that's what this site is supposed to be all about isn't it. What do you folks think? Could it work? Let me know. |
| I was not going to do a blog today. I had no intention of opening my own blog...only reading some of my favorites and maybe commenting on one or two...that's all. I was going to bed early tonight because for the past two days I have been suffering from Pluriesy and it feels like I have this St. Barnard sitting on my chest. Now, I am doing a blog. Why? You ask. Well because Mel is in the bedroom changing the sheets. "Gee Tor, why is she changing the sheet?" Glad you asked, I will tell you why. It all started last night, after we went to bed. We were laying there in the darkened bedroom and I was about to drift off to sleep and I heard it.... Terrible crys and whines coming from the kitchen. Just so happens that the kitchen is where we put up baby gates and where Rocky was to spend the night. The noise was coming from Rocky. We lay there for awhile and listened to him raising cain. "Just let him cry", I told Mel. "He will settle down in a minute". Twenty minutes later: "Maybe he will, maybe he won't." I shouted over the howling. It was just like two parents with a baby who doesn't want to sleep in his crib, for God's sake. Finally I could take it no more, I got out of bed and tip-toed into the hallway and peeked around the corner into the kitchen....there he was, his furry little body pressed up against the baby gate, standing on his hind legs and staring right back up at me with those big puppy dog eyes and he let out this heart-rending little howl. Well I ask you...what the hell could I do? I picked him up and he quickly cuddled into my shoulder and laid his little head in the hollow of my neck and gave a little whine.... Of course, I brought him back to bed with me. He quickly made himself at home, laying on top of me and went right to sleep....I did too. One hour later Mel woke up with Rocky playfully chewing her hair and doing some suspecious squirming. She quickly jumped up, threw on her robe and took him outside to do his thing. She came back to bed and Rocky cuddled back with me (I never woke up) and went to sleep. Another hour passed and Mel woke up again with Rocky playing with her toes and doing his little "happy dance" again. Again she was up and out with Rocky so that he might relieve himself. Some time after the third trip outside, Mel failed to wake up..... Small puddle was deposited on HER side of the bed. I never woke up. Funny thing, she was already up when the alarm went off. Anyway, we went off to work today (for some reason Mel was really dragging) and we were so busy after we both got home SHE forgot to change the sheets. So now she is in there, grumbling and changing the sheets. Oh and you believe it....she threatened me! Actually said that if Rocky throws a fit tonight, I could take my pillow and blanket into the kitchen with OUR baby! Dang, there is just no figuring wimmen out, is there! |
| I'm too old to raise children. I, who have constantly fought against any suggestion that I am aging in any way, have been forced to admit this. What, you may ask, has brought me to this painful conclusion? Well that's easy....two babies, a lab and a German Shepard. Yesterday we finally got to bring home our puppy, a beautiful, AKC regestered, German Shepard, black and tan markings. Oh what a joyous day, right? Well it was, for about 20 minutes...from then on exhaustion set in. You see we already had ANOTHER baby, well not a baby anymore, but a young pup. Sherman, whose pic I have posted in here, is a white Labrador Retriever. He is now about the dog equelavent to a four year old human. You know the age...out of diapers but into everything else! A general pain in the Arse. Sherman's main job in life, before yesterday, was making Molly, our grown Black Lab, miserable. Enter the New Baby. Rocky, our new GSD puppy is six weeks old and weighs 9 pounds already. With much fanfare we brought him into our home and introduced him to the rest of our "children". Molly was mildly curious. She sniffed the new puppy, licked him a few times and then pretty much left him alone. The four cats took turns introducing themselves to Rocky by approaching from behind, sniffing his rear for a moment, tnen giving him a swift swat on the butt. After doing that, each cat retreated to a different portion of the livingroom and just watched him. I think you could call it cautious indifference. Sherman was a whole different matter though. Sherman saw the arrival of the baby as a personal affront and a threat to his status as "cute baby" of the family. Sherman suddenly found himself in a unique position. He was no longer the youngest or the weakest of the pack. This new interloper to his kingdom was not only half his size, but was much weaker than him. Of course Sherman immediately set about putting the fear of God into the new kid. He discovered a new game, it is called "Knock the new kid down" and Sherman found out he is quite good at it. He walks directly to where Rocky is standing, bump into him with his chest, knocking the smaller dog to the floor, then he will stand straddle of Rocky and chew his ears until the smaller dog yelps in fear. Its the domaniance thing. Sherman is showing Rocky that he, sherman is the "Big Dog" of the two. Now I was cool with this. The way I saw it, it is only natural for the dogs to sort out their pecking order. After all, I explained to Mel, this is just what they would do in a real pack. This is when Mel pointed out to me that if Sherman was allowed to play rough with Rocky and chew his ears then we could very possibly end up with a flop-eared shepard. She said Sherman could injure one of Rocky's ears and they would not stand up as they should when he gets older. A Flop-eared Shepard? I would be the laughing stock of Bubbaville! I could not let that happen. So began my guard duty. No rest for me, no sir, I had to stand guard over little Rocky with a fly-swatter to make sure I broke up the rough housing play before he suffered a broken ear...GAWD! Sherman gets too rough, I swat him with the Fly-swatter and tell him to settle down. Hours, yesterday I spent refreeing a puppy wrestling match. They went at it almost non-stop most of the evening. Then, all at once, as if some unseen alarm clock had sounded, both dogs stopped chewing each other, sit on their haunches, then fell over sound asleep! Two blissfull hours of not yelling "sherman, stop it!" Mel ran to town and bought two baby-gates so that we might seal off the kitchen, thus giving Rocky a safe haven away from Sherman's reach. We figured that would be a great place for him to spend the night, safe from further chewing. We put him behind the barrier what what do you think the little brat did? He whined and cried to get back out! He did not want to be seperated from Sherman! We ended up placing both puppies behind the gates and they were quite happy. They slept there all night. Molly and the cats liked the arrangment also as none of them wanted to bother with a couple of juvenial delinquents either. Now, this morning I have had to try to baby-proof the house. Do you know how hard that is? In order to keep everything safe from both puppy's inquisitive jaws we have been forced to move everything in the Livingroom four feet off the floor.....well it seems that way anyway. Bottom line is...I'm just too damn old to raise more "children"! It's like having a two year old and a four year old in the house. At one point last night, when Mel was gone to town after the baby gates, I found Rocky and Sherman under my desk, happily chewing on my shoes and I yelled at them: "JUST WAIT 'TILL YOUR MOTHER GETS HOME, I'M GONNA TELL HER WHAT YOU DID!" Now is that sad, or what! I tell you, I am too old for raising more "children", besides, Mel is the Dog Whisperer of the family, she can make them behave and mind her and never raise her voice...me, I'm more the Dog Yeller and I gotta tell ya, I have just about lost my voice! |
I have decided to make one last "serious" entry about Wal-Mart to address another question about the company. I promise, this will be my last serious entry on this subject.....I will revert to making fun of them at the earliest possible opportunity.  Some have brought up the fact that Wal-Mart pays low wages and has poor benefits...that they mistreat their employees. Let me break this down to a personal level. When I applied for a job with Wal-Mart they told me what they were willing to pay me and what hours they wanted me to work. They didn't hide anything, they laid it all out for me and then let me decide if I wanted to work there or not. I chose to work for the money they offered so how can I now blame them for not paying more. If, in those first few years, someone had offered me more money for the same or less hours I would have taken it. It is the same with all Wal-Mart employees...they know up front what the pay is and what the benefits are and they make the free choice to work there. I will readily agree that Wal-Mart pays their employees a fairly low wage but if you will think about it, how on earth could they offer the low prices that you all love if they paid all their employees Union scale....they couldn't. Yes, Wal-Mart is anti-union...hell show me any big business who is pro union. Unions and management of any large company are sworn enemies. The thing is, that so far Wal-Mart has managed to stave off the unions, but I am sure that one day that too will change. Funny thing is, the fact that Wal-Mart is so afraid of the unions gaining a foot-hold in their company, they have slowly but surely given their employees more money and benifits in an effort to prove that the workers don't need the union to talk for them. Example: Just in the past month or so, we have gotten the word that ALL part-time workers who have been with the company one year will get all the benifits of the full time employee. This was done because of the hue and cry made by workers....Wal-Mart knew this would be a strong argument point FOR unions so they gave in and allowed benefits for the part time workers. Yes, Wal-Mart wages are low but I have not heard of anyone writing to the company headquarters and telling them it was okay to raise their prices 50% across the board and then pay their employees union wages. No, that won't happen because the public still wants to get their rock bottom prices. You can't have rock bottom pricing with top of the line wages...simple economics. Bottom line: Wal-Mart is not the "evil empire" some might think them to be. They are simply a company doing business, giving customers what they want, for a price the customers demand....just like every other successful business out there. Their biggest sin is doing it better than anyone else...for now. I think where most people err is that they tend to believe that Wal-Mart should have a conscience. Sorry, but there is no such thing in Big Business. When you enter employment for one of the giants you become a cog in the wheel...never expect them to go out of their way for you. Like the old saying: "It's not personal, it's just business". If you go to work for them knowing that, then you will be okay, you will get what you want out of the job. I accepted their money at the beginning and I accepted their rules. I have no gripe coming. Wal-Mart has my loyality for the eight hours a day I am there and when I go home I forget about them....I get a livelihood and they get my effort....simple as that. ************************ Now, I want to remind all of you that the new issue of The Blogville News has been posted, so far there has been little activity or views of the new newsletter. It could be that going monthly caused many to loose interest. We may have to reavaluate the thing before next month's issue. "Invalid Entry" There's the link for anyone interested. |
| The latest issue of The Blogville News is now ready for your reading pleasure...please check it out. This issue marks the debut of "Mr.-Know-it-All", our very own ccstring. "Invalid Entry" |
| Today's blog entry is prompted by a comment left in my last entry by jessiegirl. In my last entry I was using a funny situation at my work at Wal-Mart to point up a larger social problem in our country. Jessie, in her very thoughtful comment, pointed out her and her family's intense dislike of Wal-Mart and that company's business practices. Well as much as I make fun of the place in my blog, it might surprise you to know that I have a rather different opinion of the company than Jessie and many, many others out there. Wal-Mart is the largest retailer in the United States, if not the world. A few facts and Stats. are in order here, I think to give you some idea as to the size of the company. 1. The first store was opened in 1962 in Rodgers, Ark. 2. Wal-Mart now employs 1.6 million people. 3. They have 3,700 stores in the United States and 1,500 stores internationally. 4.Wal-Mart services 138 million customers per week. As you can see, Wal-Mart is what my daddy use to call: The Big Dog. He use to tell me: "Son, just remember, the big dog always runs the pack". Now the first time he told me this was in the mid-seventies. Back in the early 60's dad left the oil fields and bought a little mom and pop grocery store and gas station. He worked hard at this business, just as he did in the oil field, putting in 14 hour days, seven days a week to make it work. Now back then we had three large supermarkets and countless gas stations in town, all bigger than dad's place. All of them would close at 5 o'clock in the afternoon and all day on Sunday. Dad would open his business about five in the morning and closed at nine at night....EVERY DAY, Sunday included...this is when he made his money. Now Dad's prices were high, they had to be because he couldn't buy in bulk like larger stores so HIS cost was higher but he knew that people would pay the higher prices when the other places were closed... that was just business. People paid for the connivance of being able to buy a gallon of milk, late at night. Well the day finally came, in the mid-70's, when those large supermarkets and gas stations decided they were losing out on a lot of money by keeping shorter hours so they all began to stay open longer and on Sunday's. Of course that was the kiss of death for my Dad's business...he could not compete with the larger store's ability to sell for less because of the bulk in which they bought product. When I saw this I was incensed. How dare they try to put my dad out of business! Thos evil, big businesses were out to put my father out of business and it wasn't right. Well I said as much one day to dad and that was when he just smiled and told me his belief about the Big Dog running the Pack. Far from being upset, he was calm. Dad recognized it for what it was....just the way business worked. What has this got to do with Wal-Mart? Well you see about 10 years after all this took place, Wal-Mart came to our town. They came in and opened a store and of course, people flocked to their doors. Suddenly I began to hear those same big store owners in town begin to complain about how "Evil" Wal-Mart was killing them slowly, putting everyone out of business and how wrong it was....I had to smile. I took a certain pleasure pointing out to these business men that what Wal-Mart had done was no different than what they had done 10 years ago to my father....A bigger dog was now in the pack! So you see, that is all Wal-Mart is right now...they are the Big Dog in the Pack. The thing is, one day, sooner or later, another big dog will come along and knock them off...that is just the nature of the beast, it's just how things work and when that happens the public...you and me...will all flock to the new Big Dog and we will also talk about the good old days, when Wal-Mart was king, while we bemoan the new "Evil" giant trying to kill all the other businesses. In closing I would like to draw your attention back to a number I posted up there: 138 million customers a week. If you really have the courage of your convictions and you want Wal-Mart out of your town or your country, just do what Jessie's parents do....DO NOT BUY FROM THAT STORE. When you cut that number of customers per week in half then you will start seeing Wal-Mart close stores. Each of you is the key to getting rid of Wal-Mart. Just refuse to shop there and they will disappear from your town. But beware, after they leave another Big Dog will take their place....it is, after all, the nature of the beast. As for me....well I will continue to work for them, take their money and get hours of enjoyment by poking fun at them....it's what I do....it is the nature of THIS beast. |
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Congrats on 500 entries, and we are all looking forward to the sequel.