trips back .. in time and place

Yesterday, I took a trip back.

Let me start by telling you that my oldest daughter is having surgery on Monday. She called me to discuss it and another issue. Her surgery is in the same hospital where dad died. She started her quest by asking me if I blamed the hospital for dad's death.

While Dad was recovering from cancer surgery (they had removed one of his kidneys,) he began having trouble with fluid build up. This was a great concern for his doctors. They were afraid that the one kidney was not picking up the extra work. (I am paraphrasing and simplifying.) They scheduled more tests and procedures. The orderlies came to get dad to take him downstairs for the tests. They were not able to get him on a gurney, as dad was a large man. They eventually decide to just take him down in the bed he was in. They laid it down and wheeled him out. as he was leaving the room and going down the hall, I heard him tell the orderlies that he could breathe better if they sat him up a little.

While downstairs waiting on the test, dad stopped breathing. His heart stopped. It took them eight minuted to resuscitate him. He never fully recovered after that. There were fleeting moments when he would look at someone or squeeze a hand, but they were few. After two weeks, we removed him from the ventilator. Twenty-four hours later, surrounded by his family, dad left us.

Now, to the blame thing. I do feel that the hospital had some culpability in dad's death. I believe they were instrumental in the way he died. However, I also feel that it was dad's time. I am not one of those, "If it is your time, there is nothing you can do about it, so don't fight it" type of people. I am not going to step in front of a bus and say, "If it isn't my time, I'll be okay." Nope, not going to happen. So, do I blame the hospital ? Yes and no. I know, could I be a little more vague?

She (daughter) is having surgery at that same hospital. Her doctor does surgery at the two hospital of that group. The only one with the equipment she needs is that one. "A" was freaking out a little. She has not been back to that hospital since dad's death, either. She was scared. I told her that I would be there when she went in. I would be there when she went to sleep. (It is a one night stay at the very least.) I would be there when she woke up. I would be there when she went home. Monday was going to be the first time back for both of us.

We were at home Thursday, when my phone (in the bedroom .. away from me) rang. I didn't try to answer it. Most people have both numbers (mine and Tammy's) so if it is important, they know the second number to dial. Tammy's phone rang. It was one of the ladies from the church. Her mother was at the Bourbon County Hospital and they were getting ready to take her to the hospital in Lexington. They thought she had a blockage in her heart. Our pastor, Brother Rudd was having a medical procedure at the time and would not be able to be there. I told her that I would be there when they arrived. She was going to .. you guessed it .. the hospital where dad died.

We arrived before the ambulance. We were coming from different places. We stopped and grabbed some lunch, not knowing how long we might be here. We ate it in the parking lot of the hospital. I prepared myself for any onslaught of emotion that might happen when I went into the building. I did okay. I kept myself busy while waiting. the TV was on in part of the waiting area. The family arrived. I talked with them. Eventually we were able to go into the unit to see "C". We talked to her about healing and stubbornness. We prayed with her and daughter.

From there we went home, since Kyle was coming home from school. Later the family called us to say she was going home. They couldn't find anything wrong. They ran a second EKG and it was the total opposite of the one ran in the Bourbon County Hospital. I will let you draw your own conclusions.

I think, being there with a purpose made a difference. I did not sit and think about the last trip. "A" called me today to tell me she had to be there later that day for preliminaries. I offered to meet her there, but she assured me she would be okay. She called me tonight to tell me she only broke down twice. "A" .. if you are reading this .. know this .. your daddy loves you .. you worry too much .. but it is part of who you are .. and I wouldn't change ya .. oh yeah .. and I still talk to him too .. (dad)

so, my trip back .. in place and time .. was okay. It was a good warm up for Monday.

We will see what that will bring ..

Strange Questions .. or .. Helping educate the next generation

Last night, we were watching some TV, when a commercial for Dairy Queen came on. it was one where the red lips (spokesman/Spokeslips ? for DQ) was talking about gravy and biscuits. Then he (assuming this because of the voice .. not a gender bias that all free roaming lips must be male,) is drenched with gravy. After licking it all off, he yells, "Is that all you got?" and is doused again. Tammy commented that it looked good. We had to be out and about today a little early. I suggested that we get biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Tammy accepted my suggestion and approved the message. (Sarcastic political humor here.)

This morning we venture out. We have the Chella with us. (I'll update that situation later.) I didn't feel in the DQ mood this morning. I had already decided on a different course. I drove away from the house in a direction opposite the DQ direction. Tammy chimed in that she didn't care one way or the other if I didn't want to go to DQ. I told her I had decided to do the Cracker Barrel instead. She was enthusiastically for that.

As we were chowing down on delicious gravy and biscuits, and sausage for Tammy and I, eggs and bacon for the Chella, Chella made a comment/question about rocking chairs. She queried as to why old folks (I didn't ask her definition of old .. after all, she is only 17 .. definitions of old are decidedly age specific,) liked to sit in rocking chairs. I was aghast. How could a bright young girl not be clued in to the wonders of the rocking chair? How could she not be aware of the magical portal that accompanies rocking chairs? How, in her nearly 18 years, had these things escaped her education?

I explained to her the mythical ways of the rocking chair. I told her how troubles vanish and cares fade in the gentle rocking of these thrones of stress-less-ness. When you sit in a rocking chair, and begin to move it back and forward, the goodness of the world is magnified and the badness in minimized. One is magically transported to a time when peace ruled the planets. Somewhere out there is a chaotic, turbulent, tumultuous, existence. however, here in the arms of the Rocker, serenity reigns.

As we finished our meal and began to leave, we passed a couple of rockers set up on either side of a barrel sporting a checkers board. I had Chella sit in the rocker. I began to rock her gently. i asked her how that felt. "Like being back in my mothers womb," she replied.

She went on outside while I paid the check. When I got outside, I found Chella, in a rocker on the outside. We have a new convert. I am just doing my part to educate the youth of today. As we left our small town and ventured into the big city, Chella laid down in the TB and slept peacefully. The serenity of the rocker still clung to her. She slept in peace ..

Why indeed !

Kyle asked, a couple days ago, what was the name for the highest number? What was it called?

Where do these kids get this stuff? I told Kyle, there is no highest number. If you were able to count to the highest number, when you got there, and boldly proclaimed that you had reached that pinnacle, someone nearby (and there is always someone like this nearby,) would say, "and one." The counting would begin anew with each new level receiving a new name, "and one."

I trust this helps in educating your youth !

Number 771

According to Blogspot, this is my seven hundred seventy-first post on this blog.

That isn't that much compared to some of the bloggers I read, and a lot compared to others. It made me think about the ones we celebrate, posts, not bloggers. We set thresholds in our minds in most things we do. We decide that making it to certain birthdays are more monumental than others. Anniversaries, marriage or others, are the the same way. It is just something we get from growing up, I suppose. we see others doing the same thing and figure it is the way to do it. I am not saying it is wrong or right. It is just an observation.

It made me think, as I was opening my dashboard to sign on to post. I really didn't have a great deal to post about. The week finish and the weekend were mostly pleasant and non-eventful. There were no catastrophes. There were no train wrecks of emotion. There were no heart wrenching moments. It was a pleasant nondescript weekend. Don't get me wrong, there were moments.

My daughter called me and told me her son had a spot on stomach that the doctors suspected was the flesh eating, antibiotic resistant, staff infection. There had been several cases of it, it seems, in her town. That could have been a moment, but she hadn't gotten him in to see the doctor yet. So, worrying about it was moot. Not to say, there wasn't concern and prayer. There was. She called after the doctor visit to say they confirmed it was not the staff infection. It was more likely eczema, which she (his mom, my daughter) has had since she was a child.

There were storm/wind concerns on Sunday. The winds from Ike were here and unusually high. In some areas, the winds were gusting over 60 miles per hour. There were trees down on power lines and cars all over. However, we had no damage. We just had some pleasant gusty weather. Nothing catastrophic at all.

So here were were, four days since our last post, a non-eventful weekend behind us, a seeming smooth week ahead of us, and post number seven hundred, seventy-one.

Just last October, I turned 50. It was one of those celebratory birthdays. It was one of those monuments we build in our heads. It was 'The BIG 5-0'. Not to be confused with the 'BIG 4-9'. Just doesn't have the same ring, does it? The thing is, with out the big 4-9, there would be no big 5-0.

Without these non-eventful weekends, we would never arrive at the monuments of our self chosen hallmarks in life. The weekend just past, uneventful and nondescript, was just as important in getting me to my next BIG life event, as all those drama filled, event crammed, exploding, weekends and week days that we report all about. I don't remember what post 750 was about. I can't recall what post 500 was about. I am sure that post 1000 (should I live that long) will be something amazing, but here we are, at post 771. It is just a placeholder. It is easy to overlook. BUT, without it, 1000 wouldn't be 1000.

Every day, filled or boring, brought me to today. Everyone of them important in the real grand scheme of things. I just remembered the premise to the movie, "Click" starring Adam Sandler. If you haven't seen it or heard of it, it goes like this. A man is given a remote that controls his life. He can fast forward through some parts to get to the good parts. According to the movie, the remote learns his choices and begins moving him through his life from plateau to plateau. He hits only the high spots. He misses so much. He learns this just as his life ends. I will purposely leave it at that as I do not want to spoil the ending.

It is a good comedic commentary on how we, so many of us, view life as one mountaintop to the next mountaintop. So, here is to post 771, and 643, and 437, and 14. I don't know what they were all about, but I do know they got me here.

What post are you on today?

911

We have not forgotten !

My warm friend

The hot days of summer are dwindling down 

The mornings arrive 

wrapped in a new blanket of cool 

It is not cold by any means, 

but the morning blaze is gone 

The early air feels moist now instead of dry 

Summer still comes for his afternoon visit 

The sun still shines brightly in the sky 

The hot sticky is just coming later each day 

And it leaves earlier than the day before 

Lest you become confused and this may do it 

I must let you know summer is not my warm friend 

No no, not with the arid hotness of a dragons breath 

Summer is hot, staying too long, working too hard 

My warm friend comes bearing a blanket 

She comes with a whisper or a howl 

She curls her icy fingers around you 

And chills you to your soul 

Some days she comes dry and brittle 

Some days she comes white and heavy 

She will make you cling to the blankets at night 

And wait until the last chance to get out of bed 

My warm friends name comes like a whisper 

Stolen from the lips of the gods 

A cloud high above rooftops 

let’s go a gentle refrain .. 

Calling her name .. Winter 

 

Summer boasts his fervent heat 

He rants and raves his summer storms 

But inside he knows and trembles 

Winter is coming to chase him away 

Autumn will stand between them 

Like a staid referee 

Somberly holding them apart 

While they glare across the divide 

Summer hears the chorus of complainers 

Wishing end to summers reign 

Calling for the coldness of winter 

In the fickleness that is man 

Winter know too well the murmurers 

Decrying her nipping frosty touch 

Caught in winters beautiful grasp 

Calling out for summers hot 

 

Not I, for I embrace my warm friend 

I embrace my blanket of beauty 

I know of summer’s necessity 

But long for the touch of winter 

 

The touch of her invigorating kiss 

The feel of her piercing gaze 

Her unsympathetic reality 

I am winter, did you expect less? 

 

So, come winter 

Come across the mountains 

Blow across the plains 

Dive down from your high northern perch 

Come to me, my warm friend. 

 

Ron Simpson Jr. 

September, 11, 2008

A proud moment in the life of a parent

Some times I look at the kids (seven of them) and shake my head sadly. For the newer readers, (to save you from scrambling through the blog for this pertinent information,) three of mine biologically and four of Tammy's biologically. We do not use the term 'step' when it involves family. Add to this my time teaching high school students by the score, and proud moments can be few and far between.

A few days ago, my middle daughter, Chasity, told me some news that just warmed my heart. Her oldest child Ian is nearing the threshold of being five years old. She began to tell him about the test required before he could officially turn five. This test contains a sampling of the sum knowledge required to be five years old. It made me proud.

Let's go backward in time to a day when my youngest was about to turn six. This would have been near October, 1993. I told her that she had to pass the six-year-old test in order to turn six. If she did not pass the test, she would be required to remain five for another year. There would be no party and no presents. She was on the verge on believing when she looked at her mother, that last bastion of virtue, that last hope of the young, and she said, and I quote, "He's lying."

Still, Chasity telling Ian about the test was wonderful.

Of course, that was not my only foray into child cruelty via alternative reasoning and parental trust. A few of the favorites that my darling children still reminisce about are:

*Recording tornado warning during the tornado season and then playing them arbitrarily to watch them scurry about wanting to turn the couch over and get under it.

*Taking the dogs to get rabies shots at the fire station and telling the kids we were ALL getting rabies shots.

*Reaffirming the children's belief that a stream running near the house and behind a hospital indeed was a dumping place for discarded organs and body parts.

*Telling them that the peeled off treads of retreaded semi truck tires littering the highway were actually alligators in disguise awaiting unsuspecting motorists with car trouble and then tapping the gas to feign car trouble.

*Telling Audrey, the oldest and a chatterbox, that she needed to stop talking or she would use up all her words. Further making it more believable by explaining the people that use up all their words lose their voices and those that don't use all their words talk in their sleep.

Of course, all of these were dispelled when a glance at their mom would bring those two words they longed to hear, "He's lying."

My baby, Heather (the six-year-old test skipper) told me a few days ago that she needed a TV. Her roommate owner of the TV moved out and took it with her. She and remaining roommate took a cardboard box and made a TV out of it. they even put the cable box on it and put the wires into the back of it. They made screens which displayed the History Channel with a special on Hitler and one of the TBS or TNT hit CSI programs. As I listened to her tell the story about fooling her older sister by telling her that her TV only got 2 channels, I couldn't help but be proud.

My sense of humor will survive me. A proud moment in the life of a parent.

less ouch !! not completely though !

Wednesday is here. My head has relented in it's passionate pursuit of throbbing incessantly.

Yesterday, I took a few doses of a cold & sinus ibuprofen. No, Kroger, we did not use them for the manufacture of illegal drugs. Last night, my head fooled me. It wasn't hurting hardly at all. I decided to take a dose before going to bed. That, apparently, was all it took to wake the sleeping throb. Shortly after taking it, my head began to pound. Go figure?

Today has been better. I did take it early this morning. The pressure has been much better. I can still tell that it is there but not like before. I feel positively human.

I have been working on other writing projects while confined to not bending, stooping, turning, running, walking, breathing .. or so it seems. I have been trying to organize things, or at least figure out how Vista organizes thing, on this new computer. I have used Vista before on the computers at EKU, but that was limited usage. (Perhaps this is a partial contributor to the pain in my brain.)

Now .. to just organize the things on the desk .. and then the room .. and then the house .. and then the garage .. and then ... WAIT ! I need to stop that before this organizational thing gets completely out of control. Every life needs a little clutter, a little chaos, a little out of place-ness, dont you think so ?

OUCH !

The weekend is over.

It was a busy and painful one. Saturday morning, we went to grandson Christopher's baseball game. There are pics of him at bat and in the outfield on my Flickr. That link is other there on the right. When we were leaving, grandson Kody expressed interest in going home with us. We asked mom and dad and it was a go .. until we got to the truck. Once he was in the TB. he changed his mind. Chella started him back to the grandstands. When Tammy arrived with Cloe walking all the way (she was behind because those little 14 month old legs don't take steps as big as us Grups [old Star Trek reference .. bonus points if you know the episode]) she had granddaughter Kyleigh with her. It seems Kyleigh wanted to stay at Papaw and Tammy's house overnight. She and Chella got in the third seat and giggled as we drove home (Kyleigh - 6, Chella 17.)

Since we didn't have clothes for the overnight stay and the next day church activities, we stopped at the Rescue Mission to buy some clothes for her. For $4 plus tax, Tammy got her a leather skirt, a top, a princess dress, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and a shirt for Kyle, and three novels. Then it was on to Mt Sterling. we dropped Cloe off and the fun began.

Once we got home, Kyleigh met the BOYS. Samsom was his usual cordial self. polite and non-intrusive. The other two were still in their kennels. (They like to destroy things when left to their own devices .. a combination of curiosity and stupidity.) Lacy was loose and made a fool of herself, barking at Kyleigh. Regardless, it did scare Kyleigh. Then, when the boys got out, Dusty, in his exuberance at seeing a new person, jumped on her, nearly knocking her down and scratching her arm. She was terrified and ready to go home. We called the kids to see what arrangements to make if that did become a necessity. Audrey was in Lexington, shopping at the Fayette Mall with Kaye and Chasity. Apparently, none of them had cell phones with them. We finally got hold of Adam and decided to see if she would stay before either of us trekked out.

She calmed down. she made friends (eventually) with Rocky. Dusty still terrified her. Dusty stayed downstairs and she stayed upstairs. that worked for the most part. Tammy took her with her to do a little more thrift store shopping. She got more princess clothes and a pair of shoes. She was making out like a clothes bandit with Papaw and Tammy.

Then, she had to go to the bathroom. She just couldn't use our bathroom because there were faces on the walls. Tammy collects (among other things) Mardi Gras masks. She wanted to go home so she could go to the bathroom. Tammy took her into the bathroom, showed her the harmlessness of the masks, and all was good again. She would stay, until the next crisis.

About 10ish or so, Kyleigh decided, whle on the phone telling her mom good night that she needed to go home. Dusty had scared her again. She liked all the dogs except the 'bad' one. We explained top her that none of the dogs were 'bad,' Dusty was just excited. I am not one of those 'find an excuse for every behavior' type people, but this was the case here. We talked her into staying. She went to our bed, laid down, and promptly fell asleep.

The night was non-eventful.

I woke up the next morning around 7 as usual. Since Kyleigh was asleep, Dusty slept in our room as usuaul. I was at the desk, checking email, when I heard a noise behind me. Kyleigh had gotten up shortly after I did and was in the chair behine me. Dusty was almost in her lap. She was telling him to get down. She wasnt terrified. She was firm. She was fine with him after she figured out she could boss him around. Typical woman, eh?

We were getting dressed for church, when Tammy got a bit ill, and I had the beginnings of a headache. We decided to forgo church and take Kyleigh home. Kyleigh cried because she did not want to go home. Crimeny. First crying to go home and now crying to go home. I rmember why I like having children in their twenties.

Anyway, we took her home. She was fine. She told her mom and dad that she had fun and wanted to live with me. That was priceless. We took Sam with us on the trip. He loves to ride. Kyleigh wanted to keep him. Kody wanted to keep him. Adam wanted to keep him. Audrey wanted to NOT keep him. Sam left with us.

We went from there to see Chasity, Chris, Ian, and Abby. There are pics of Abby from this visit on my Flickr. Again, the link is over there ~~~~>

What was hillarious, was ... Chris was cutting Ian's hair. He had a spray bottle. Chasity sprayed the mist towrds Sam. He tried to catch it. She adjusted to spray from mist to stream. As she squirted Sam, he lapped the water in the air. VIDEO over there ~~~>

When we left there, my headache had just begun to really throb. By the time we got to Mt Sterling, it was hurting so much that my vision was affected. It feels like a sinus thing. It took Ibuprofen and retied to bed for the most part. I was up and down with it. It would go down in intensity but was still always there. It was there at 11 .. took Ibuprofen. I slept off and on. When I was up this morning at 6ish it was throbbing again. I took Ibuprofen at 7. It went away as far as the apin was concerned, but I could still feel it there. You know, it was like I knew my head was there. I always know my head is there, even if I dont alway suse it, but this was there other knowing it was there. Knowing it was there because ti didnt feel just right. It is noon plus now, and the throbbing is there. Not as painful, but throbbing right between my eyes and just over.

We are going out later and will get some cold and sinus headache stuff, we will see if that will fix it. Right now, it is mostly ok, except if i lean back in my chair and lean my head back, it begins to hurt in the center, at the hair line. OK .. not going to do that again .. OUCH !

Hope everyone else had a good weekend. Mine was great. I got to see all my kids except Chris.

The beast is tamed

Raymi has done her magic.

As to the self esteem issues for the girl who didnt get to cut my hair, when I tipped Raymi, I added a tip for the girl that lost the cut as well. I did want her to know I appreciated her giving up a cut. See, I ain't such a bad guy after all.

It's just a haircut .. right ?

There is a scariness that is my hair. It threatens to take over the world. For all my "I'll scratch myself where ever I want where ever I am" manliness, I am quite picky about my hair. Most guys will stop on the fly and grab a cheap haircut. While, I am all about the cheap, it is not to the point of sacrificing my hair to the cheap gods.

The girl that cut my hair when I was in my 40's swore I was not losing my hair. I was gaining hair. She said it was the thickest, fasting growing hair she had ever cut. Finding the right barber was essential. You just cant turn an amateur loose with this monster.

A year or so ago, my regular hair cutter (I don't think she likes to be considered a barber) went AWOL. She disappeared. My hair was in one of it's regular dominance moods and needed to be tamed. We were at Walmart when I decided enough was enough. I marched it into the stylist center there and put it in the hands of a complete stranger (well, I assume she was complete. I didn't do any inventory.)

When I left there I had three choices. 1.) I could shave my head and start over. 2.) I could hold my head at a weird angle all the time to try to make the haircut look slightly more normal. 3) I could put up with this lopsided deranged cut until it grew out enough to try to fix. (There are no pictures of this time as I shunned the paparazzi during this sad time.)

Tammy ran into Raymi (My God sent scissor cutting hair stylist) at a store and found out that she was back at the old salon where she had cut my hair several times before. Joyous days had returned. When I went in to see her, she was aghast. She wanted to find the wench that did this to me and punch her in the nose. she worked diligently with her scissors and managed to fix most of the damage. The lopsidedness of the cut was extreme. A couple more cuts and I was fixed. Life was riding on the good train once more.

Fast forward to a month ago approximately. It was haircut time again. I called the salon to schedule a time when Raymi could do her magic once again. The news was catastrophic. Raymi had disappeared. Her cell phone was off. No one knew where to find her. What would I do?

My nephew and his wife own the Planet Salon and Spa (2 locations in Lexington) and will give me free or reduced haircuts. That is great and I do appreciate it. However, Lexington is a 70 mile round trip or $15 in gas and about 90 minutes travel time. Raymi was $1.60 in gas and 10 minutes drive time.

A month or better passes. there is no word. The search parties and dogs have had no luck (kidding.) Yesterday, I decided I had to take the plunge and try a new stylist. As i sat down in the chair, I told the young lady that Raymi usually cuts my hair. she told me the Rayme was back. (Oh Happy Day .. I could hear a chorale begin to sing.) She was going to be there the next day from 1 until 7. I, very politely, excused myself from her chair. (Tammy says, Yes, I was polite as I was running for the door.) I apologized for any self esteem issues this might bring up. I told them I would be back tomorrow.

Today at 1, I will got to the salon and get a Raymi scissor cut.

The before mentioned, unruly, dominating, unrelenting hair is pictured below. It doesnt usually look that messy. That was this morning first thing out of the bed.

poste el número dos

Here is number two .. A dear friend just found out her and hubby were disqualified to adopt based on the length of their marriage. This was over 6 months into the process after many tests, a ton of paperwork, and some considerable expense. She said, and I quote, "I feel as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and the baby ripped out of my arms, before I even met her." I wrote this for them .. We love you Red and Steve ..

What my heart doesn’t know

My heart knows
The touch of love
It has been familiar with it my entire life
My heart knows
The feeling of loving
It fills and flows with each friend I gain
My heart knows
The warmth of friendship
Every friend adding to the fervent heat
My heart knows
The joy of caring
From both sides of that wonderful fence
My heart knows
The ecstasy of trust
It is all consuming to possess it
My heart knows
The feel of genuine
Far different from the tinny sound of fake
My heart knows
The capacity of fullness
It has felt that fullness time and time again
My heart knows
The sorrow of breaking
It is just a fact of life that it will happen
My heart knows
Some of these daily
Some of these occasionally
And some of these too often

What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to put all of those
Into different neat little categories
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to feel one
And not to feel them all
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how not to let the sorrow of breaking
Mix in with the joy of caring
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to stop feeling
When the feeling isn’t what I wanted
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how I will survive
The next break, and the next, and the next
As it is a fact of life, it will happen

What my heart doesn’t know
Is from where the strength will come
To face all my tomorrows

What my heart knows
Is that it will come
And we will stand
And face all our tomorrows

Ron Simpson Jr.
September 3, 2008

poste el número uno

I have two posts to post .. I dont want to post them together as they are completely unrelated .. so here is number one

Qualified ?

He began his political career with an unsuccessful run for the Illinois General Assembly.

He ran a small store for a short time before he decided to run for the Illinois State Legislature. He served four terms in the Illinois House Of Representatives. He was elected to a tern in the US House of Representatives. he was neither powerful nor influential. He criticized the Presidents choice to go into a war for his own 'military glory'. He spoke out against the war stating, "God of Heaven has forgotten to defend the weak and innocent, and permitted the strong band of murderers and demons from hell to kill men, women, and children, and lay waste and pillage the land of the just." The effects of his speech was so damaging that he decided not to run for re-election.

The new administration offered him a position far away from any real political decisions that would effectively end his political career. He decided to decline said offer.

While working in his law practice, he gave a memorable speech, attracting the eye of the Republican Party. He made speeches and participated in debates. Several years later, the Republican Party chose this untested, little qualified man to be the Parties choice to run for president. He won with 39.9% of the votes. the Democratic candidate received 18.1% of the vote. The candidate for the Constitutional Union Party received 12.5% of the vote. Abraham Lincoln had been elected as our 16th President. He was untested, unproven, and unqualified.

Article Two of the Constitution sets the principal qualifications to be eligible for election as President. A Presidential candidate must:

be a natural born citizen of the United States;

be at least thirty-five years old;

have been a permanent resident in the United States for at least fourteen years.

Woodrow Wilson was a one term Governor before he was elected President. Many of our powerful and influential president came into the job ill prepared and under qualified in the eyes of their opponents and even in the eyes of history.

No one talks about the early failures of Abrahan Lincoln. No one talks about how improbable it was that he would occupy the place in our counties history that he holds. In the darkest of times for our nation, he was the man for the job. You couldn't tell it from the other side of his presidency.

We can banter back and forth how qualified or unqualified Barak Obama seems. We can toss the question out about Sarah Palin. It cannot be the deciding factor in our decision. We must also learn to separate the facts from the rumors. I cannot count the emails I have received with misleading and misguiding information. This tactic has been around for centuries in these elections.

This is the age of information. in a time when we should be better educated about those we choose for our leaders, still people spout the rumor/lie as the truth. with two clicks of a mouse and a bit of typing, I have been able to check up on all the damaging rumors about either candidate. Still, the emails persist. Still the doctrine of misinforming the American public prevails.

I am not saying that Barak Obama is the next Abraham Lincoln. He may be. He may be more significant in history.

In these times, Abraham Lincoln would never make it out of the primaries.

I ate my cake. Where is my cake ?

WARNING ... Political ... The views expressed here do reflect the opinions of management .. I am Ron Simpson, and I approve this message !

There is an old saying about having your cake and eating it too. You cant have it both ways. Casting party affiliation aside, (I am a conservative Democrat, by the way.. this is here on purpose,) I want to look at some current issues being discussed in the news. I fully realize I am inviting the scorn and rebuke of those that disagree. So be it.

The RNC is highly touting Palin’s daughter for her choice to keep her baby. I agree. I disagree with abortion. I also disagree with my tax dollars paying for it, as I am morally opposed to it. However, and here is the sticky wicket, I am also opposed to back door butchers killing kids because abortion is illegal. We will never stop abortion. All of my morality will never prevent a scared teenager, pregnant and confused, from finding a friend that knows someone, that knows someone, that can take care of the problem, even if abortion is illegal. (I haven’t forgotten the cake.)

The high road traveled by the conservatives is their biblical imperative against murder.

Paul, in his letter to the church at Rome, addressed certain Jews that were refusing to fellowship certain Gentiles in the same church, because they had not submitted to the ritual of circumcision. Circumcision was a tenet of the Law of Moses. The Bible states that Jesus fulfilled the Law and it was complete. Where the Law was lacking in that it provided no help in obeying it other than the consequence of disobeying (which every parent uses as well,) Jesus provided with his sacrifice and coming Comforter giving the believer added strength and grace to measure up. These Jews wanted these Gentiles to enter into the tenets of the finished law. Paul stated to them, that if they wanted to abide by the law, they had to abide by the whole law and would die under the law. He basically told them that they did not have the option to pick and choose which rites and rituals, which laws and tenets, they were going to obey. It was an all or nothing deal.

Back to 2008:

We want to praise this unwed mother to be for her decision to not have an abortion. If we will use our biblical imperative as our stage from which to shout this praise, we must also stand on the biblical words about fornication (sex outside the bounds of marriage.) So, in one breath we must praise her. In the other breath we must admonish her. You cannot pick and choose which passage in the Bible you want to recognize.

Wait, wait, wait. Doesn’t the Bible tell us we are to forgive our brother? Why yes, it does. It tells us that we are not to forgive them once, not twice, not even seven times, but Seventy times seven (the words of Jesus.) So we can forgive her the indiscretion of sex outside marriage. Yes, we can.

However, does that forgiveness only extend to her? Does the forgiveness not extend to those that, for whatever reason, choose to abort their baby? Does the Bible tell us to forgive the fornicators, but not the abortionists? Does it say it is OK to forgive the adulterer, but only if that adultery does not involve homosexuality? Are we to pick and choose who and what we forgive?

A mob grew angry against Jesus when he healed a man of palsy and forgave his sins. They cast their claims of blasphemy against him. He asked them which was easier to say, be healed or be forgiven?

You want to heal this land ? Start by practicing forgiveness.

This is not a Republican or Democratic issue. This is a bipartisan issue. It will not be resolved by passing laws. Look at our jails. We keep them filled. Every law written has not stopped crime. I am not an idiot. I know we cannot wholesale abandon law. It is necessary. There must be a standard and accountability. However, we cannot eat our cake and wonder why we don’t have it.

If we want forgiveness, we must offer forgiveness. (Yeah, there is a passage and parable for that too.)

Before we can reach across an issue to attempt any realistic healing, we must first accept the validity of our opponents stand or, at the very least, the validity of their right to have it. We are a nation of diverse cultures. We sprang up because a rag tag group of separatists were tired of the oppressive rule of the Church of England. Three hundred eighty-eight year later and we have become that which we opposed. Tyrannically trying to bully our citizenry, not with fly-by-night troops and religious torturing, but by our bully platform.

On the View, (a show I do not watch for no real reason other than it does not appeal to me,) Hasselbeck decried the liberal left-wingers that look down on Palin’s daughter for making this choice. Whoopi chimed in that they had done the same thing, on that stage, to Brittney Spears sister. She stated, “We judged her, we did it. We, Americans did it. It is not a liberal or conservative thing.” (paraphrased)

We have become the cake eating cake mongers of our time. Democrats, Republicans, Indepenents, Green Party Members, and any other unmentioned political party of our country.

I ate my cake. Where is my cake?

necessary panic

Sometimes a phrase will catch your eye after hearing it many times and never thinking about it. This is one such phrase. In an article about evacuations in Nawlins' as a prelude to the arrival of Gustav, the writer quoted authorities as saying they did not "want to create any unnecessary panic."

This brings to mind this thought: "There is a time of NECESSARY PANIC" ?

I don't mean to make light of the plight in Nawlins. Please do not take it that way. I am glad that some forethought is going into plans for evacuation, should it become necessary. According to the article, the state has a $7 million contract to provide 700 buses to evacuate the elderly, the sick and anyone around the region without transportation. It also has plans to let residents know, those that choose to stay are on their own. The Superdome will remain locked. If you choose to stay, you do so at your own risk. Fair enough, I think.

Still ... unnecessary panic. I can see in my mind (scary place) the police going through the streets with bullhorns announcing that it is "time for necessary panic." "all citizen are now required to panic necessarily."

"This is the police. All citizens will now panic."

And now an unrelated note from a little place I like to call reality:

While my baby was in the shop, Enterprise (only game in town) provided me with a rental car. Their first attempt was a Mazda3. I fit, barely. We drove it Tuesday night to church. OMGosh. I felt like I sat down and they molded the car around me. I went back to Enterprise on Wednesday and returned the tin can and requested something larger. I was even willing to go to Lexington if necessary to pick something else.

The biggest thing they had on the lot was a Kia Rondo. It was a cross between a minivan, a sewing machine, and an SUV. It was bigger. We took it. It wasn't great, but it didn't feel as cramped. It was an '08 with nearly 33,000 miles on it. The transmission slipped a bit. You could hear the cams rattling. But, since I wasn't buying it, only driving it, I didn't care. It got me from A to B several times and now my big red baby is back in the driveway. Happy camper.

Baby is back

finally .. the truck is finished. There was a hold up on the bumper coming in.

However, it is now finished and I am a happy camprer. It looks great.

Wheeling and dealing

Well, it turns out my deducible is $500.

My insurance company (Farm Bureau) has already sent me a check for $1492 and change ($1992 minus $500.) So, today I went out and about checking other independent body shops for a cheaper price. The less out of my pocket the better. The first place I went gave me an estimate of $1327 and the second one gave me an estimate of $1213. It looks like I will have enough to fix it without any expense. Also, there are some scratches on the side that I would like to get buffed out. Someone nameless (other driver in the house) rubbed the hedges as SHE was pulling out.

Tammy has fallen in lust over a Cadillac Deville at the dealership where we bought the TrailBlazer. She is ready to trade-in. She does say that I am a big truck kinda guy and probably wouldn't be happy unless I have the TB. One of the kids at church has a fit about me calling the TB a truck. He, emphatically insists, it is an SUV.

We will see what will be.

Crunkled

Crunkled=wrinkled+crunched

Here are the pics of the damage to the truck in the previously mentioned hit-and-run

the week

It has been a week.

I have had better. I have had worse.

I took the truck for estimates and filed the police report. The local estimate was just under $2000. My agent gave me the bad news. They were mistaken in their earlier conversation with me. The deductible is $500. So, through no fault of my own, I am going to be out $500.

Tuesday and Wednesday were basically eventless. Well, not exactly. I have been building shelves for the garage and attempting to clean out some of the boxes that have been stored there since we moved in almost two years ago. I did manage to clean out several boxes and create some good piles of trash to be dragged to the curb by the boy. However, one of the things I did find was something I have been searching for. I found 6 of 10 chapters of "Seeds". For those that don't know, 'Seeds' is a novel I started many years ago. I am now in the process of typing the chapters I have found and storing them on hard drives and jump drives.


The kids started school on Thursday. So, the house is peaceful during the day.


Today, Kyle missed his bus. When the bus got here and no Kyle got off, we were worried. We did figure, since Chella didn't get off either, that she was bringing him with her. One call from her squelched that idea. Her ride drove back to the school and they found Kyle, sitting and talking to his friends. He hadn't bothered to call or let us know anything. "Bad Kyle"

Tammy was reading him the riot act. Sierra was here. She said, "I am glad I moved out."

I looked at her and said, "You moved out?!?!?!?" LOL .. she is here more than she is home.

Oh yeah, we now have over 250 pounds of boxer. A friend was moving and had to find homes for her two dogs. She called us. We found a home for the 11 yr old Lab mix. We told her we would take Sampson until we found him a home. We remembered Sampson. When we had Malcolm, Sampson came to visit (3 yrs ago) and He was about Malcolm's size (80 pounds.)

Well, Sampson came on Thursday. He is 110 to 120 pounds. (pictures will follow) He is HUGE !!!! At 75 to 80 pounds, Dusty looks small next to him. With all three, Rocky @ 70ish pounds, Dusty @ 80ish pounds, and Sampson @ 110ish pounds, that gives us over 250 pounds of boxer.

Tammy took Sampson with her last night on a midnight errand. She took him in the Mustang. He filled that front seat. She said that he rides great. She felt extremely safe. He is a great dog. He is well behaved. It did take a few lessons for all three to learn to get along. They are doing much better now. Rocky has a high pitched bark (he is just one year old this week.) Sampson has a deep earthquake growl and bark.

All that, and watching the Olympics, is my week. Yours ?

That's why I have insurance !

Last night, we went out with Chella and Caleb. Tammy and I had discussed going back to JD Legends for a little karaoke. Kyle was spending the night with Sierra. Chella was working, but had a ride home. Well, it seems that McD's had too many people scheduled to work. They gave Chella the option to go home early.

Side note here: Chella is working and saving her money to have a good 'moving out' amount for an apt and utility turn on fees, and such. She is doing quite well in saving her money. There have been times when they have asked her and others to choose who would go home. Chella chose once a girl that was pregnant to stay over her, because that girl needed the hours to support her and baby. Other times, Chella has told one or more of the 'live at home working part time to buy CD's and stuff' girls that they needed to go because she needed the hours. Her managers love her. She is a great worker. She usually get top choice of whether to go or to stay.

Last night she opted to go home early. Her and Caleb were going to go to the movies and see "Stepbrothers." I did warn her to be prepared to be a few IQ points lower when she returned home.

However, I asked her if she and Caleb might like to go with us. JD Legends is a restaurant, so minors can come and karaoke as well. They opted to go with us. We did tell Caleb that the only way Chella would be allowed to go to the movies with him on Friday was if he karaoke'd.

She and he did one song together. They didn't sound half bad. Tammy and I did four songs apiece. We left around 10:30 pm.

This afternoon, we went to Lexington to run some errands. One of our stops, I walked toward the front of the truck. (at home and earlier stops, I entered and exited from the rear of the truck direction. As I walked toward the front, I noticed the bumper wasn't right. It was drooping. Then I noticed the small dent in the fender in front of the tire and the crease in the plastic/rubber bumper. Last night, while in the parking lot of JD Legends, someone swiped me and left.

I stopped and got an estimate (about $2200) and called my insurance. I am filing a police report online (which is was cool to be able to do.) I have to get one more estimate. I have full coverage on the TB with a $250 deductible and rental coverage as well. The first estimate shop (where I will most likely take the truck) said it was about a four day fix.

I just hate that my truck is slightly crunched.

Oh well. time to see how well my insurance company performs.

playing with the layout

you may notice changes over the next bit .. I am playing with my layout .. creating some of my own stuff ..

be patient

be constructively critical if necessary

hope you enjoy the differences

late night early morning

We just got in from JD Legends in Nicholasville. We had a great time.

I sang, Montgomery/Gentry's "Cold One Coming On," Elton John's "I Want Love," Kenny Chesney's "Tin Man," Tracy Byrd's "Keeper Of The Stars," Toby Keith's "How Do You Like Me Now," and The Eagles' "Seven Bridges Road."

Tammy did, Soft Cell's "Tainted Love," Fugee's "Killing Me Softly", Patsy Cline's "Walking After Midnight," Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," Alana Miles' "Black Velvet," and two songs with Sierra

Mauritha even chimed in with a Toni Braxton number.

We even got free tickets to a Tracy Lawrence Concert in Franklin Ohio, JD Legends second location.

Not a bad night. The manager of the restaurant told Tammy he insisted that we come back. He even told her he would comp one of our meals to entice us. Is that sorta like singing for your supper ?

cloe .. lately

Audrey holding Cloe while at the Legends Game .. her son, Chris, is on the left in the green shirt ..

Grateful for a 40 cent dip

Gas prices around here have dropped to around $3.65 a gallon. I got gas in Lexington on Tuesday using my Kroger card to drop the price an additional 10 cents and got it for $3.58 a gallon. This is a good thing. Especially since we are going to be road hogs this week.

Tuesday: Drove to Cincinnati and back to pick up Mauritha (Tammy's best friend of nearly 20 yrs.) 250 miles round trip.

Wednesday: Took Mauritha and half of Mt Sterling (or so it seems) to see Chris in Beattyville. Tammy filled the truck with people. Seven went. 120 miles round trip.

Thursday: We will be going to Lexington today to do some school shopping and then on to Nicholasville for some Karaoke. Several of the kids will be joining us. Some riding and some meeting us there. All three of my girls live in Nicholasville. 110 miles round trip.

Friday: We will be driving to Cincinnati to take Mauritha back to her sisters house. She is flying out on Monday to go back to Cocoa Florida. 250 miles round trip.

Saturday: Fellowship Rally in Burlington KY. 210 miles round trip.

Sunday: Our usual short drive to church. 70 miles round trip.

Total: 1010 miles.

With the gas mileage my Trailblazer EXT gets, that amounts to approximately $25 less for gas. I can live with that extra not coming out of my pocket.

Wahooooooooooo !

Monday Pics in Lexington

This was the scene as we were leaving Tammy's Doctor's office this morning around 11:30 am. The two converging storm cloud patterns left a gap between them. It looked like there was a rip in the sky ...

I took the pics with my Kodak Digital Camera

Ok .. the challenge ..

I had to add 30 names to my roster list (students who expressed an interest in taking electricity in the 08-09 school year.) Once again, I had ten days to do this. I, also, had to bring in at least one guest speaker to talk to my classes about careers in electricity.

The latter part was easy. It took one phone call.

The 30 new names tried to be tricky. I emailed and called the freshman principal at GRC to schedule a time when I could speak to the entire freshman class at once. There was going to be an assembly of the freshman class two days prior to the deadline. I was trying to get in to talk to them for 30 minutes to do my recruiting. That fell through. I scheduled another time to talk to more classes, but not the entire class at once. It was not the best scenario, but it was still something.

My principal had asked to be kept in the loop. What kinda irritated me was this ‘leave it all up to me’ stance that the state had. They hired me as a teacher. I was not a recruiter. I was not an administrator. My job was to entail teaching. I was to create lesson plans and teach them. That was the least of my jobs since I had been hired. If teaching was all I had to do, it would have been a cake job. Electricity, I know. Teaching, I know. Both, I have been doing for over 30 years.

Anyway, when I told her of my plans, she informed me that the ten days was ten actual days, not 10 business days. This meant that 2 weekends were included. Four days of the ten were days I had no access to students at all. She said she would try to get me more time. I had finally gotten a time when I would have access to most of the freshmen. Monday (day 11) was a freshman picnic.

I sat up a table. I had signs. Freshmen could sign up for a drawing for a cell phone, a Wal-Mart gift card, and McDonald’s gift cards. While they were signing up, I would talk to them about electricity class. I stressed to all of them that they were under no obligation to sign as interested to win any of the prizes. Over eighty signed up for the drawing. When the day was done, I drove back to the school and counted my ‘interested’ signers. It was thirty students.

I have to tell you, I prayed about this. We (family) prayed more than once. This was like a sign. I didn’t know if the state was going to close me down or not, but I knew it was going to be all right either way.

Needless to say, the state decided to close my program. One of the teachers at the school asked me why I jumped through their hoops when we all figured it was a forgone conclusion. My reason: when they did close my program, it would be not because of lack of effort on my part. No one was ever going to point a finger at me and say that I didn’t do everything in my power to keep that program alive.

Next installment: Student reaction and State insanity

me ... singing

Oh say can you see ...

Tonight I sing the National Anthem to start the minor league baseball game between the Lexington Legends and the Columbus Catfish.

Game time: 7:05PM

Wish me luck !!

Oh yeah .. something I wrote recently

Crumpled

I found you today wadded up in the pocket of a pair of haphazardly discarded jeans, thrown carelessly aside at the end of a long day. It was a routine pocket cleaning before the equally routine cleaning of said jeans. Keys were placed where keys should go. Spare change was sorted and tossed into the silver or cooper storage tubs depending on their material.

My wallet, the walking around sum total of my existence, was laid in its place for safekeeping and ultimate transfer to the next pocket. How strange it is to reach into ones practiced wallet pocket and find nothing there. There is that moment of lost-ness. It is accompanied by a sense of frantic. All else stops at that moment until things in the world are righted and the wallet is in its customary spot.

Then, there was you, in my hand, headed to the closest trash container. However, my fingers lingered long enough for my curiosity to catch up with them. Something radiated through the crumpled folds and spherical shape. Interest worked its way until my fingers casually unfolded, uncrumpled, and opened until there you were, in your full glory, lying before my eyes.

The handwriting was unmistakable. The words were unrelenting. At some point during a day of that week, these were my emotions scribbled on virgin paper. The unadulterated sentiment violated the purity of the paper. Some word, some action, some deed, bore into my soul and it belched forth and fell in the lines of the sheet. It was a nearly lost testament to the effect of an incredulous event.

I read the words like the life of a dear old friend who had walked beside me for as long as I have had my shadow. Gone were leading edges of whatever created this bludgeoning tide on its path to forever alter the shore. The substance brought in the frothing white of the wave was, in part, still scattered about the coast. Elements of the shoreline were carried away as the wave ebbed in the defeat of the force once so powerful. The roar and the spray abated.

It does not really matter exactly what created the words or the wave. That has already been melded into the vast sea. In short time it will be indistinguishable. All that will be left to remind me that it occurred at all, are the words on a wadded piece of paper and the clutter on the beach. In time, the ebb and flow of the ocean will take even the clutter to its watery grave.

If I will look back and see this at all, it will be on another day, when I spy a formerly crumpled piece of paper with unmistakable handwriting, unrelenting words, unadulterated sentiment, and vague familiarity. All that is left in those well chosen polished words is the earnest of an event. I will take a moment. I will remember with some effort. Then, the paper will go back to its resting place until the next time curiosity finds it ways to my fingers. Like the paper, the words will be wadded back into my life. Another day, another word, another crumpled piece of paper. Life goes on.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

July 16, 2008

Oh yeah .. something I wrote recently

Crumpled

I found you today wadded up in the pocket of a pair of haphazardly discarded jeans, thrown carelessly aside at the end of a long day. It was a routine pocket cleaning before the equally routine cleaning of said jeans. Keys were placed where keys should go. Spare change was sorted and tossed into the silver or cooper storage tubs depending on their material.

My wallet, the walking around sum total of my existence, was laid in its place for safekeeping and ultimate transfer to the next pocket. How strange it is to reach into ones practiced wallet pocket and find nothing there. There is that moment of lost-ness. It is accompanied by a sense of frantic. All else stops at that moment until things in the world are righted and the wallet is in its customary spot.

Then, there was you, in my hand, headed to the closest trash container. However, my fingers lingered long enough for my curiosity to catch up with them. Something radiated through the crumpled folds and spherical shape. Interest worked its way until my fingers casually unfolded, uncrumpled, and opened until there you were, in your full glory, lying before my eyes.

The handwriting was unmistakable. The words were unrelenting. At some point during a day of that week, these were my emotions scribbled on virgin paper. The unadulterated sentiment violated the purity of the paper. Some word, some action, some deed, bore into my soul and it belched forth and fell in the lines of the sheet. It was a nearly lost testament to the effect of an incredulous event.

I read the words like the life of a dear old friend who had walked beside me for as long as I have had my shadow. Gone were leading edges of whatever created this bludgeoning tide on its path to forever alter the shore. The substance brought in the frothing white of the wave was, in part, still scattered about the coast. Elements of the shoreline were carried away as the wave ebbed in the defeat of the force once so powerful. The roar and the spray abated.

It does not really matter exactly what created the words or the wave. That has already been melded into the vast sea. In short time it will be indistinguishable. All that will be left to remind me that it occurred at all, are the words on a wadded piece of paper and the clutter on the beach. In time, the ebb and flow of the ocean will take even the clutter to its watery grave.

If I will look back and see this at all, it will be on another day, when I spy a formerly crumpled piece of paper with unmistakable handwriting, unrelenting words, unadulterated sentiment, and vague familiarity. All that is left in those well chosen polished words is the earnest of an event. I will take a moment. I will remember with some effort. Then, the paper will go back to its resting place until the next time curiosity finds it ways to my fingers. Like the paper, the words will be wadded back into my life. Another day, another word, another crumpled piece of paper. Life goes on.

Ron Simpson, Jr.
July 16, 2008

My Review of "The Dark Knight"

We went to the midnight showing of the new Batman flick last night. YEAH !! It was great. LONG !! But still great

Here is the review I wrote on the movies website

totally NOT disappointed

As a reader of comic books for 40 plus years, I was eagerly and cautiously awaiting this release. I sat enthralled in a theater packed with new teen aged Batman fans and hung on every explosion, every twist, every piece of the action. This movie jam packed the action into every scene. The story was wonderful. The dedication to the spirit of the comics (Batman's code of honor and the Joker's complete lack of one) was clearly defined.

The seething darkness beneath the calm exterior of Bruce Wayne was wonderfully captured by Christian Bale. His acting displayed the diversity of such a complex character as Batman and still maintained the simplicity of his quest.

Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker was stunning. Not to take anything away from previous actors filling this role, but he surpassed them all. In the original movie, Nicholson stole the show from the weaker Keaton Batman. Christian Bale's strength in this character pulled equal footing, which made the epic struggle between them all the more thrilling to watch.

Although time constraints did not permit for the full development of the Dent/Two-Face character, it was still a strong performance by Eckhart to manage the character. As a lifelong fan of Batman, I had the basis for filling in gaps necessarily left in the movie.

If there was a weakness in this movie at all, it was in the portrayal of Rachel by Gyllenhaal. In "Batman Begins" Rachel was a tough city prosecutor in a city run by it's lowest element. Holmes looked dainty but pulled off toughness. In this movie, Rachel seemed weak and directionless. This was further convoluted but her confusion as to which hero she wanted to be with. Her vacillating emotions between Wayne and Dent made her character seem weaker. Additionally, there seemed to be no real chemistry between either man and her. In "Begins" she had clear and concise purpose and did not let her emotional attachments sway her direction. This was a strength created in "Begins" and seemingly abandoned in "Knight".

The continuing development of Oldman's Gordan is phenomenal. The entire theater gasped when he was shot. (WARNING ~ SPOILER) When he showed up as the driver in the transfer scene, the theater erupted in applause. This is an emotional attachment to a movie character not often seen. Well done.

I loved the tense scenes aboard the two ferry's as the riders struggled with who and what they were. There was one line when the citizens were discussing the 'value' of keeping the prisoners alive at the risk of their own deaths. Someone spoke up and said that it was obvious that they hadn't decided to let us die, as we are still here. It was a great moment of the acceptance that there is good and evil in all of us.

Overall, this was a great movie. I highly recommend anyone to see this movie, comic fan or not.

Oh yeah .. and more on the job story is coming .. I promise

Favorite Holiday

Yesterday, July 4, is my favorite holiday.

The basis of everything else we celebrate in the way of holidays and special days comes in the freedom we have. Regardless of which holiday is your personal favorite, the right or privilege to celebrate it comes in the freedoms our forefathers wrested from the hands of the British.

Our country is not perfect. Our system has it flaws. It is rife with instances of abuse. The very nature of our freedoms provides place for those that would exploit the system to do so. Many, eventually, are caught up with and a band aid is placed on the problem. We cannot fix this problem without taking away freedoms we hold dear.

Benjamin Franklin said, "Those that would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety"

My right to complain about my country is afforded to me by the same country I criticize. That right was given to me and is celebrated yearly on July 4th.

The promised update: Part One

I am going to try to get all of this in here as close to chronological as possible.

Last year, my program was flagged. This means that the state was watching my numbers (primarily enrollment) as a means to determine whether the class should continue. The state required a ratio of around 10 students per class. That recently changed to 12.5 per class. My numbers were around 11.

Sometime in the middle of the year, I got a letter that my program was subject to closure. All the while, every person I spoke with in the department in which I worked assured me that the state had never closed a program that they could recall. Now, this is not to say that I relied on that fact.

My program was just in its third full year. Every year the ratio increased. Each time it got close to the number required, it seemed that the state raised the number. What I didn’t understand, and I do consider myself to be somewhat intelligent, was how I was supposed to increase the numbers for my program. Every time the numbers were brought up, everyone looked in my direction for answers. I am a teacher and an electrician. I am not an administrator. I am not a career counselor. I am not at the high school where I meet students. The students that I meet are the 300 students out of 1750 that have decided to take a class at the ATC (Area Technology Center.) Recruiting these students would only steal them from other programs and not fix the overall problem.

Anyway, there was a meeting. Everyone was there, almost. The Director of the OCTE (Office of Career and Technical Education,) the Deputy Director of the OCTE, the area supervisor (over 12 schools,) my principal, several counselors from GRC (George Rogers Clark High School,) and one of the associate principals from GRC, and the Superintendent of the Board of Education of Clark County, and myself. Missing were my advisors to my program. The meeting was scheduled for an earlier date which all of them planned to attend. The rescheduled meeting did not work with schedules, so they couldn’t be there.

In the meeting, I was given a few minutes at the start to talk about my program. I talked for about 5 minutes and answered a few questions. Then I left. The meeting progressed without me.

The following morning, I got the news on the results of the meeting. I needed to invite speakers to talk to my classes about employment opportunities after graduation. Their concern here was that we hadn’t placed any students into the trade. Of course, what was not taken into consideration was that this was just my third full year, and the first year I had ‘completers’ that could go into the field.

The next thing I needed to do was to add the names of 30 students that would be interested in taking my class the following year. They didn’t have to schedule my class per say, but they did have to put on their schedule that they were interested.

Oh yeah, I had ten days to do this.

Next: The challenge …

mucho grande apology

Yes, I do realize it has been a month since I posted. There have been some major issues that have had to be addressed and are still being addressed. Nothing relationship wise, Tammy and I are still great. There have been some issues at work. I will delve into all of that as soon as we get some things resolved there .. but ..

Here is something I wrote when I was up at 2 in the morning this morning:

A Traveler

Traveling through this oddly familiar forest
Recognizable were some of the trees and brush
Beckoned by the memorable woods
I appeared to know the direction to take
Though the path was a stranger to me
But soon the vines tried to hold me
And the underbrush tried to encumber me
I found myself lost and running

Why is it
When you aren’t sure where you are going
Getting there faster seems like a good idea?

Finally I emerged from the thickness
Into the clearing
The bluest ocean I had ever seen
Gently brushed against the greenest shoreline
Nearly at the waters edge
Was a light on a blackened mast
Reminiscent of days gone by
That seemed to shine
Brighter than light of the cloudless sky
I was draw inexorably toward it
As I got closer it appeared to brighten
There beside the light was a bench
Of wrought iron and wood
Ornate and inviting as the light
The bench welcomed me
As I sat on it
I could feel that welcome
Nearly as an embrace

I luxuriated in the warmth of the light
My every sense sought out its affection
The more I reached
The more I realized
There was no light
On that blackened post
The light was no light at all
But a bell
Blackness enveloped me
As the ringing rang out
I was bathed in the coldness
Of the sound
The ocean grew fainter
The lush shoreline faded

All that was left
Was the embrace of the bench
And the sound
Ringing
Sweeping over me
Rocking me
In the darkness of sound
The cold emotionless wave
Eroded the edges of my hurt
It filled me
It covered me
It lulled me into its sleep
Possibly to dream
Or just to stop thinking
For one night

Just one night

Ron Simpson, Jr.
May 25, 2008

My prejudice .. and yes .. I have them

I have to admit that I do have prejudices.

Everyone has them, regardless of how enlightened we think we may be. We are all subject to the pangs of preconception when we are faced by certain elements in individuals. These pangs have nothing to do with the individual, generally, and are based on some notion we have about a characteristic of the person.

Now, to clarify, my prejudice is not based on color, creed, religion, or county of national origin. My prejudice is based on past actions. While that is sometimes a healthy barometer to use, it is not always correct.

That much being said, let me continue my ranting:

Recently, a judge in New York acquitted several police officers in the killing of Sean Bell. For those of you unfamiliar with the story, here is a synopsis. Bell and some of his friends went to a strip club on the night before his wedding for an impromptu bachelor outing. The club was under investigation by local police for prostitution.

By the end of the event, Bell was dead (shot 50 times) and his friends were wounded. The officers in question claimed to have overheard one of Bell’s companions say something about “getting his gun “ and tried to stop them when they left the club. According to the story, Bell bumped the officer with his car and hit an undercover police car arriving at the scene. Then one of the occupants of the car appeared to be reaching for something and the shooting began.

The officers relinquished their right to a jury trial, opting to have their case heard by a judge. The judge cited inconsistent testimony, courtroom demeanor and rap sheets of the prosecution witnesses — mainly Bell's friends — "had the effect of eviscerating" their credibility. He stated that the state failed to remove unreasonable doubt in whether or not the officer’s actions were warranted.

Now, my opinion on this matter not withstanding, we approach my prejudice.

Into this fray steps, Al Sharpton. This is where my prejudice hits.

In 1987, Sharpton burst onto the national scene in the Tawana Brawley case. She was a 15-year-old black girl, was found smeared with feces, lying in a garbage bag, her clothing torn and burned and with various slurs and epithets written on her body in charcoal. Brawley claimed she had been assaulted and raped by six white men, some of them police officers, in the village of Wappingers Falls, New York.

A grand jury was convened and after seven months concluded that the Brawley story was fabricated. Sharpton, Maddox (atty), and Mason (atty) accused the Dutchess County prosecutor, Steven Pagones, of racism and of being one of the perpetrators of the alleged abduction and rape. The three were successfully sued for slander and ordered to pay $345,000 in damages, the jury finding Sharpton liable for making seven defamatory statements about Pagones, Maddox for two, and Mason for one.

In 1995, a black Pentecostal Church, the United House of Prayer, which owned a retail property on 125th Street, asked Fred Harari, a Jewish tenant who operated Freddie's Fashion Mart, to evict his longtime subtenant, a black-owned record store called The Record Shack. Sharpton led a protest in Harlem against the planned eviction of The Record Shack. Sharpton told the protesters, "We will not stand by and allow them to move this brother so that some white interloper can expand his business."[ On December 8, 1995, Roland J. Smith Jr., one of the protesters, entered the store with a gun and flammable liquid, shot several customers and set the store on fire. The gunman fatally shot himself, and seven store employees died of smoke inhalation. Fire Department officials discovered that the store's sprinkler had been shut down, in violation of the local fire code. Sharpton claimed that the perpetrator was an open critic of himself and his nonviolent tactics. Sharpton later expressed regret for making the racial remark, "white interloper," and denied responsibility for inflaming or provoking the violence.

On March 11, 2007, Sharpton held a press conference to highlight what he said was unequal treatment of four suspected rapists in a high-profile crime in the Dunbar Village Housing Projects in West Palm Beach, Florida. The suspects, who were young black men, were arrested for allegedly raping and beating a black Haitian woman. The crime also involved forcing the woman to perform oral sex on her 12-year-old son.
At his press conference Sharpton said that any violent act toward a woman is inexcusable but he felt that the accused youths were being treated unfairly because they were black. Sharpton contrasted the treatment of the suspects, who remain in jail, with white suspects involved in a gang rape who were released after posting bond.

Sharpton is just a glory hound parasite on society. He shows up where publicity is high to make sure he gets his name in the paper or his face on TV. He does more to hurt the credibility of any case than he ever does to help it.

In the case of Sean Bell:
Sharpton lambasted the judge who acquitted the detectives in the killing of Bell and wounding of his two friends, saying a jury should been seated to decide guilt or innocence.

"If people are on the public payroll, doing their public duty, they should be required to face a public jury," Sharpton said. The officers had opted to have the judge instead of a jury decide the case.
It is my constitutional right to decide if I want a jury trial or a judge trial. That right is determined by me, not by my job, not by my lawyer, not by the public, and least of all not by some parasitical glory hound. Al Sharpton, stay off of my constitution.

Sharpton later promised to "shut the city down" with organized civil disobedience. "Shut it down! Shut it down!" supporters chanted.

Oh yeah, here is a righteous act of a Godly man. Make threats to shut down one of the busiest cities in the world. Fortunately, he has about as much chance of shutting down New York City as he does of stopping a tornado by standing in front of it.

I am sympathetic to the Bell family. I hope they find that measure of justice and peace they deserve; I hope they all find happiness. Al Sharpton is not the path to those things.
There ya go. That is my prejudice. It boils my blood. I just can’t stand those that propagate there living on the backs of people steeped in misery. They build their reputation on the pain of others.

Peace to the Bell Family. You are in our prayers.

once more into the abyss ..

There are two things I want to share today.

1st .. I have just returned from my book signing at the local public library. It was a blast. We live in a very small community, so I did not expect much. While we were small in number, however, it gave us more time to talk one on one with people. That was amazing. People, strangers to us, sharing their lives with us. Each ones story becoming part of us and ours becoming part of them. One of the librarians told me that she checked out my book from the library (which is way cool in and of itself) to scan it before we were there so she would have some idea of what it and we were about. When she got to the half way point in the book, reading instead of scanning, she realized it was not a book that could be just scanned. She told me in the first few pages the story grabbed her. She is dealing with similarities with her own mother.

Then I come home from this heart wrenching reprisal and begin reading the news online. I come across this story about certain comments made by Obama about people and frustrations and holding to their religion and guns, yadda yadda yadda, It seems that his opponents grabbed hold of this to say that he was aloof and considered himself to be ‘superior’ to the common man. (like any of them have their finger on the pulse of the common man in America)

It is amazing to me the double standard to which we expect our leaders to adhere. While leading the greatest nation in the world, we expect our president to be down to earth like us. While I feel a connection to America and American citizens is vital, it is irrational to expect our elected leader to be ‘one of the boys’.

I am fairly intelligent, and yet, I don’t have the first clue what to do about the war in Iraq. I don’t have the foggiest notion of how to balance the nations budget or right our failing economy. It is all I can do to control the spending in my own house and adhere to some semblance of a budget.

I hope to be considered for the volume of my work in my life, rather than a random statement made on a bad day at the wrong time. Everyday, I deal with my problems, my wife’s problems, my children’s problems, and then the problems of my sixty-five students. It is unfathomable to me to consider dealing with the pressures of the problems of this nation. I do not want my president to be ‘one of my boys’. I want my president to be one of the nations elites surrounded by the rest of the nations elites.

I want my president to display greater wisdom than I can. I expect greater clarity. I demand a level of intelligence that could well be considered superior. I am where I am because of who I am. I expect my president to be a president, capable of making one decision that will affect the six billion residents of this planet and to do so without worrying if some opponent or newspaper is going to try to rake him over the coals for it.

Yes, I expect my president to be in touch with me as much as we are both human beings living on the same planet. I will not agree with every word. I will not accept every statement. I will not support every idea. I will, however, support my president. I will give the benefit of the doubt. I will accept that, while I may not always agree with policy, the decision was made in the best interest of the nation as a whole.

Please deliver me from petty minded individuals that cannot see past the end of their noses. Deliver me from those who cannot accept the ramifications of daily decisions but want to make worldly decisions based on their own bias.
It seems these days, in politics, getting the job is harder than doing it.