I am not kidding when I say this. I firmly believe that Liberalism is a mental disorder.
Having said that, I believe that many people who say they are liberals really aren't.
Because a true liberal doesn't believe in God,
and believes that entrepeneurs are evil people;
Thinks that Capitalism is the same as slavery,
and hates any organized religion outside of the Democratic Party!
Thinks that the Central Government should control all facets of our lives including how we raise our kids, what should be taught in our schools, and where we should be allowed to work, live and travel; how much we should earn and what we should do with our own money and wealth.
Believes in redistribution of wealth,
Counts as its heroes people such as Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, Jeremiah Wright, William Ayres, Vladimir Lenin, Joseph Stalin, Leon Trotsky, George Soros, Sol Alinsky, Michael Moore, Al Gore, FDR, Fidel Castro, Hugo Chavez, Che Guevara, Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi and Al Franken.
Thinks that the US deserved 9/11,
and cheered when it happened!!
Thinks that terrorists are freedom fighters,
Hates the US Military;
Despises the US Flag and other patriotic symbols,
Supports illegal immigration.
Thinks that the US as we know it is an anachronism,
Has never listened to Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck, Bill O'Reilly or Michael Savage with an open mind;
Supports all entitlement programs,
And finally... thinks that Obama is the answer to all of their "prayers"; and maybe he indeed is!!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Ramblings...
If you mix grape juice with apple juice and give it to wrestlers, would you call it "grapple juice"??
If you mix cranberry juice with apple juice to regulate your bowels, would you call it "crapple juice"??
Is it possible to neuter a newt ??
Wouldn't it be awful if we had to choose between Hilary Clinton or Sarah Palin for president in 2012 ??
Was Obama thinking of Heinz Ketsup when he said he had visited all 57 states ??
If we annexed Cuba, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Bermuda, the Bahamas and Jamaica, we would indeed have 57 states !!
Then we could could cede California, New York, Massachusetts, Illinois, New Jersey, Oregon and Michigan, and still have 50 mostly good states !!
How much is BP going to have to pay to the 12 foreign countries who have, after 70 days, been allowed by his eminence, Presitator Obama, to help with the gulf oil spill ??
Perhaps Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan should learn Kagan Cooperative learning techniques...(look it up if you don't understand this one)
If Taylor Swift married Boston Celtics coach Doc Rivers she would be Taylor Swift Rivers...
If she married Melissa Rivers she would be...oh forget it...
They are thinking about bringing back the TV show "Grace Under Fire" with Ellen Degeneres and call it "Grace Under Ellen"....
I hear that several Republican Senators have tried to out for a part in the road production of "Bye Bye Birdie"...
How soon will it be before we have to refer to blackberries as african-american berries ??
Did you know that no illegal immigrants were harmed during the making of the 1939 movie "The Arizona Kid" starring Roy Rogers ??
If you crossed a donkey with Al Gore you would have:
(a) a dumb ass
(b) a story that wouldn't be reported by the media
(c) a potential democratic presidential candidate
(d) all of the above
The answer of course is (d)
If you mix cranberry juice with apple juice to regulate your bowels, would you call it "crapple juice"??
Is it possible to neuter a newt ??
Wouldn't it be awful if we had to choose between Hilary Clinton or Sarah Palin for president in 2012 ??
Was Obama thinking of Heinz Ketsup when he said he had visited all 57 states ??
If we annexed Cuba, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Bermuda, the Bahamas and Jamaica, we would indeed have 57 states !!
Then we could could cede California, New York, Massachusetts, Illinois, New Jersey, Oregon and Michigan, and still have 50 mostly good states !!
How much is BP going to have to pay to the 12 foreign countries who have, after 70 days, been allowed by his eminence, Presitator Obama, to help with the gulf oil spill ??
Perhaps Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan should learn Kagan Cooperative learning techniques...(look it up if you don't understand this one)
If Taylor Swift married Boston Celtics coach Doc Rivers she would be Taylor Swift Rivers...
If she married Melissa Rivers she would be...oh forget it...
They are thinking about bringing back the TV show "Grace Under Fire" with Ellen Degeneres and call it "Grace Under Ellen"....
I hear that several Republican Senators have tried to out for a part in the road production of "Bye Bye Birdie"...
How soon will it be before we have to refer to blackberries as african-american berries ??
Did you know that no illegal immigrants were harmed during the making of the 1939 movie "The Arizona Kid" starring Roy Rogers ??
If you crossed a donkey with Al Gore you would have:
(a) a dumb ass
(b) a story that wouldn't be reported by the media
(c) a potential democratic presidential candidate
(d) all of the above
The answer of course is (d)
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Obama don't care
I feel compelled to set the whole gulf oil spill travesty to music; and what better song to model it after than "Blue tail fly" made famous by the legendary troubador Burl Ives.
But before we start I want to address the thought that I am being too hard on Obama. Those of you who think this way must have short memories. Remember all of the horrible, horrid, horrific and slanderous things that were said about President Bush following 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina? Again, as I have said before, you can't have it both ways!
So grab your pitch pipe, get a key, and sing along, again to the tune "Blue tail fly"...
Verse 1: Remember in two thousand ten,
the rig explosion killed some men;
and filled the gulf with ugly crude,
that put us in the foulest mood.
Chorus 1: We've got a spill, obama don't care,
we've got a spill, obama don't care,
we've got a spill, obama don't care,
perhaps he'll go away!
Verse 2: The cleanup started off real good,
and BP did all that it could;
the government got in the way,
and the oil still flows today.
Chorus 2: Let the oil flow, obama don't care,
let the oil flow, obama don't care,
let the oil flow, obama don't care,
it'll never go away!
Verse 3: He visited a time or two,
but never stepped into the goo;
but then he declared with a hiss,
BP will surely pay for this!
Chorus 3: We'll make them pay, obama don't care,
we'll make them pay, obama don't care,
we'll make them pay, obama don't care.
BP just go away!
Verse 4: The men came in to skim and dredge,
to save the gulf coast was their pledge;
the government said "go away,
we're waitin' on the EPA"!
Chorus 4: More red tape, obama don't care,
more red tape, obama don't care,
more red tape, obama don't care,
he'll never go away!
Verse 5: And years from now as we look back,
upon the gulf coast covered black;
but mother nature healed her own,
and sent obama marching home!
Chorus 5: It's over now, obama don't care,
it's over now, obama don't care'
it's over now, obama don't care,
he finally went away!
But before we start I want to address the thought that I am being too hard on Obama. Those of you who think this way must have short memories. Remember all of the horrible, horrid, horrific and slanderous things that were said about President Bush following 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina? Again, as I have said before, you can't have it both ways!
So grab your pitch pipe, get a key, and sing along, again to the tune "Blue tail fly"...
Verse 1: Remember in two thousand ten,
the rig explosion killed some men;
and filled the gulf with ugly crude,
that put us in the foulest mood.
Chorus 1: We've got a spill, obama don't care,
we've got a spill, obama don't care,
we've got a spill, obama don't care,
perhaps he'll go away!
Verse 2: The cleanup started off real good,
and BP did all that it could;
the government got in the way,
and the oil still flows today.
Chorus 2: Let the oil flow, obama don't care,
let the oil flow, obama don't care,
let the oil flow, obama don't care,
it'll never go away!
Verse 3: He visited a time or two,
but never stepped into the goo;
but then he declared with a hiss,
BP will surely pay for this!
Chorus 3: We'll make them pay, obama don't care,
we'll make them pay, obama don't care,
we'll make them pay, obama don't care.
BP just go away!
Verse 4: The men came in to skim and dredge,
to save the gulf coast was their pledge;
the government said "go away,
we're waitin' on the EPA"!
Chorus 4: More red tape, obama don't care,
more red tape, obama don't care,
more red tape, obama don't care,
he'll never go away!
Verse 5: And years from now as we look back,
upon the gulf coast covered black;
but mother nature healed her own,
and sent obama marching home!
Chorus 5: It's over now, obama don't care,
it's over now, obama don't care'
it's over now, obama don't care,
he finally went away!
Friday, June 25, 2010
Fort Lost in the Woods!
I still had over a year to serve after leaving Vietnam and I was assigned to the Preventive Medicine Section, General Leonard Wood Army Hospital, Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. On my leave from Vietnam I had visited Janet Clark, a Walton girl, whose family had owned the Clark Funeral Home on Townsend Street. Her dad had died in 1965 and she and her mom, Francis Clark, had moved to Winter Haven, Florida. Janet had corresponded with me while I was in Vietnam and sent me lots of invidually wrapped chocolate chip cookies. You know the old saying,"the way to a man's heart..."? I arrived at FLW in April, 1970 and was soon placed in charge of the epidemiology section, better known as the VD lab! We diagnosed cases of gonnorhea mostly, with some syphilis and chancroid thrown in for good measure. About twice a month, myself and a gentleman named Joe Fusie from the Missouri Health Department would go to the local towns, St. Robert and Waynesville, to find the ladies of the evening responsible for the infection and make sure that they sought treatment. The stories that I heard from the soldiers of how that acquired their infection were both fantastic and fantasy!
I was realy enjoying life again, lots of sports to play, the almost nightly comraderie with my buddies who included Bill Boyce, Gary Gilmore (no not the one executed in Utah), Joe Peters, Ernie Johnson and others. Our Commanding Officer was LTC Karel Runcik, a Czech who escaped the Nazis during WWII. Colonel Runcik was still very rough around the edges and was a chain smoker. He was ferociously devoted his men and God help anyone else who messed with any of us!
On October 10, 1970, Janet and I were married in the Lake Alfred, Florida, Presbyterian Church. We had to get right back to Fort Leonard Wood where we soon had our own house at 17 Immell Street. We had a good marriage and we entertained the guys from the office a lot. I remember after Thanksgiving dinner that Joe Peters said that the meal tasted good, or maybe it was just because he was hungry: oops!! Ernie and Belinda Johnson became good friends and we visited a lot. I loved going to Lake of the Ozarks about once a month to collect water samples. We would take a boat out and enjoy fishing or just exploring the many caves around the lake.
Early in 1971 we found out that Janet was pregnant! The feeling of becoming a dad was so awesome! We went to Florida in April, stopped at the University of Florida in Gainesville, and found out that there was an Ag teacher opening in Manatee County. We went to Bradenton where I talked to Ruth Leeth, the personnel director and Charles Williams, the Ag supervisor. I was hired immediately! Because of this, I was able to get out of the Army early. So on June 21, 1971, I was discharged from active duty, and moved to 5002A- 20th Street West, Bradenton. I started my teaching job on July 1, 1971.
I was realy enjoying life again, lots of sports to play, the almost nightly comraderie with my buddies who included Bill Boyce, Gary Gilmore (no not the one executed in Utah), Joe Peters, Ernie Johnson and others. Our Commanding Officer was LTC Karel Runcik, a Czech who escaped the Nazis during WWII. Colonel Runcik was still very rough around the edges and was a chain smoker. He was ferociously devoted his men and God help anyone else who messed with any of us!
On October 10, 1970, Janet and I were married in the Lake Alfred, Florida, Presbyterian Church. We had to get right back to Fort Leonard Wood where we soon had our own house at 17 Immell Street. We had a good marriage and we entertained the guys from the office a lot. I remember after Thanksgiving dinner that Joe Peters said that the meal tasted good, or maybe it was just because he was hungry: oops!! Ernie and Belinda Johnson became good friends and we visited a lot. I loved going to Lake of the Ozarks about once a month to collect water samples. We would take a boat out and enjoy fishing or just exploring the many caves around the lake.
Early in 1971 we found out that Janet was pregnant! The feeling of becoming a dad was so awesome! We went to Florida in April, stopped at the University of Florida in Gainesville, and found out that there was an Ag teacher opening in Manatee County. We went to Bradenton where I talked to Ruth Leeth, the personnel director and Charles Williams, the Ag supervisor. I was hired immediately! Because of this, I was able to get out of the Army early. So on June 21, 1971, I was discharged from active duty, and moved to 5002A- 20th Street West, Bradenton. I started my teaching job on July 1, 1971.
Oil spill rap
I went outdoors and dropped on all fours when I heard the roars; from the fishermen, wondering when, they could go back to work; they were going berserk, 'cause the beaucrats, and other fat cats, were makin' up rules, they were actin' like fools; telling them they had their back, when quite in fact, they had no idea of what panacea, would clean up the mess that caused their distress; so they tried to assess how they could address, the problem that they could not allay; but they put the blame and tried to frame, the company that was called BP, that caused the disaster but could not master, the clean up try, and bye and bye, the feds took charge, but by and large, they made it worse; and now I hear, the fishermen curse, the government that couldn't reverse something that was so adverse...
Just a thought...
So what happens after BP goes bankrupt from paying out damages and other things that the Obama regime conjures up in relation to the gulf oil spill?? Here is a scenario: Obama rides in in on his white horse from the white house, uses billions from the Stimulus ( better known to me as the Slushulus) to pay unemployment claims, pay for environmental damages and do anything else that he can to garner votes; and because of all this largesse (using our money, by the way) he gets reelected in 2012. Couldn't happen you say?? Don't bet the mortgage against it (assuming that your house is not already in foreclosure)!!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Obama's speech tonight 6/15
I am going to save you all some time. Don't bother watching Obama's speech tonight. I'll give you the speech right now: here goes...
"I have been on top of this 9/11- like, man caused disaster from day 1. It was caused by capitalistic greed, which was encouraged by the Bush administration, which was receiving kick- backs from Halliburton, which was ordered to take short cuts in the inspection of oil rigs by Vice President Dick Cheney who used to be the CEO of Halliburton."
(pauses for applause which never comes)
"We now have in place the materials and manpower to clean up this spill, as long as BP pays for all of this up front, and as long as the EPA, OSHA and other Government agencies which I cannot remember the names of, approve in advance and assure us that no endangered species will be put in any danger during this operation, at which time all operations will be suspended immediately until further notice."
( pauses for applause which is not forthcoming, and ducks from tomatoes being thrown his way)
" I will make the gulf clean- up my number one priority as soon as Congress passes cap in trade, Elana Kagan is nominated to the Supreme Court and other stuff, which I cannot remember the details of right now, gets done. Thank you and good night."
(runs off the back of the stage to the white house basketball court to shoot some hoops)
"I have been on top of this 9/11- like, man caused disaster from day 1. It was caused by capitalistic greed, which was encouraged by the Bush administration, which was receiving kick- backs from Halliburton, which was ordered to take short cuts in the inspection of oil rigs by Vice President Dick Cheney who used to be the CEO of Halliburton."
(pauses for applause which never comes)
"We now have in place the materials and manpower to clean up this spill, as long as BP pays for all of this up front, and as long as the EPA, OSHA and other Government agencies which I cannot remember the names of, approve in advance and assure us that no endangered species will be put in any danger during this operation, at which time all operations will be suspended immediately until further notice."
( pauses for applause which is not forthcoming, and ducks from tomatoes being thrown his way)
" I will make the gulf clean- up my number one priority as soon as Congress passes cap in trade, Elana Kagan is nominated to the Supreme Court and other stuff, which I cannot remember the details of right now, gets done. Thank you and good night."
(runs off the back of the stage to the white house basketball court to shoot some hoops)
Chieu Hoi and "Leaving On a Jet Plane"
OK, I was due to leave country on March 1st, 1970, had a fairly safe, if not routine, situation; so what would possess me to volunteer for duty that would take me away from warm bed, cold beer and hot food? Chieu Hoi was a pacification program where villages and villagers were persuaded to stop supporting the VC (Viet Cong) with attached incentives. In practice it turned into a "stop being VC- friendly or bad things will happen to you", program. As I said before, the 5th Mech and the VC could not co-exist. Anyway, a team of about 15 soldiers including an interperter, scout, field medic, preventive medicine tech (me!) plus infantrymen for firepower would go to villages to carry out these missions. If the village was a VC stronghold, it might be set on fire, weapons caches blown up, villagers captured or killed, before all was said and done. It showed me the real brutality of war. The Michael J. Fox movie "Casualties of War" mirrored what I saw. I was actually TDY (temporary duty) for about a month. I was briefed just on what my duties were: safe water, waste disposal, assist the field medic, and assist in perimeter defense. We actually went into Laos which was a hotbed of VC activity near the Ho Chi Minh Trail. One village, Ban Nha, was a real problem and we ended up in a firefight. They had tunnels, caught us in a crossfire, and inflicted some casualties on us. We called in gunships and Hueys and finally got out. Of course we were not supposed to have been in Laos, so we were called back to Quang Tri base. At that point I was able to opt out of going back out in the "bush" because I was getting "short". Short means that you have less than 30 days left in Country and you need the time for out- processing or just goofing off! My replacement came in from Phu Bai and I was off to Danang, Cam Ranh Bay and SeaTac Airport courtesy of United Airlines! We stopped in Guam and Hawaii on the way back and no one went AWOL this time! Every day Armed Forces radio would play the Peter, Paul and Mary song, "Leavin' On a Jet Plane"....
The 'Nam
Flying Tigers airline, what an outfit: Eight engines, four on each wing, room for over 400 passengers along with all of our military gear, very impressive. We flew from Ft. Ord, California to Anchorage, Alaska for a stopover. Rumor has it that about 30 soldiers went AWOL there. Not me, I'm ready; then another stop in Japan and on to Cam Rahn Bay, Republic of Vietnam. I remember disembarking from the plane, the toilet smell and the searing heat, not to mention the hustle and bustle of getting everyone and everything off that magnificent bird that we had flown in on! We spent a couple of days in barracks waiting to be assigned to a unit and then off to the 172nd Preventive Medicine Unit in An Khe, just down the road from Khe Sahn firebase. It was pretty routine, lots of lab work, mess hall and food inspections, trips to town to find the hookers who were spreading VD to our troops, the nightly rocket and mortar attacks from the VC camped out on the mountain. Why in the hell would you build a base near a mountain full of caves? An Khe was the home of the 173rd Airborne and I guess they were just looking for a fight!
In July, our unit moved to Red Beach in Danang. Yeah there we were, right out in the open near the South China Sea. the swimming was great but I never felt comfortable there. It was at this point that I volunteered to run courier missions. I would board a helicopter with documents and reports and go to our units in Phu Bai (I wrote a song titled "Phu Bai sucks"), Saigon (had some interesting experiences there), Ban Me Thuot ( they had an Agriculture Experiment Station there) and some other places that I can't recall.
In November, myself, four other specialists and an officer named Captain Alan Gillogly all volunteered to go to Quang Tri, up near the DMZ to start a unit there. Quang tri base was the home of the 5th Mechanized Division, a unit hated and targeted by both the NVA and the VC. What had we gotten ourselves into? We had a hooch (a place to live) right on the south perimeter of the base, had to build our own bunker (we named it "Ellsworth" after the US South Vietnam ambassador Ellsworth Bunker; Archie Bunker had not yet appeared on the scene). The other guys in the unit were: Bob Valdez, a Pima Indian (remember Ira Hayes?), Bob Sanchez and kid from New Jersey, complete with the accent, Leo Malysa. We did the normal lab work and inspections, but also went to town about once a week to inspect the local ice- making operations! It was a lot more relaxed there and we did lots of card playing and interacted well with the 495th Transportation Unit, a National Guard Unit from Lakeland, Florida. Our Captain was an entomologist and we did a lot insect collecting with him. In fact we listened to part of Super Bowl 4 while flying in a helicopter on an insect scouting mission! I also continued my courier missions, it was a good way to see the country and make time go faster. I tried to extend my tour for 6 additional months, and by doing so I could get out of the Army earlier. However, there was no need for the M.O.S. 91 Sierra so my request was turned down!
In July, our unit moved to Red Beach in Danang. Yeah there we were, right out in the open near the South China Sea. the swimming was great but I never felt comfortable there. It was at this point that I volunteered to run courier missions. I would board a helicopter with documents and reports and go to our units in Phu Bai (I wrote a song titled "Phu Bai sucks"), Saigon (had some interesting experiences there), Ban Me Thuot ( they had an Agriculture Experiment Station there) and some other places that I can't recall.
In November, myself, four other specialists and an officer named Captain Alan Gillogly all volunteered to go to Quang Tri, up near the DMZ to start a unit there. Quang tri base was the home of the 5th Mechanized Division, a unit hated and targeted by both the NVA and the VC. What had we gotten ourselves into? We had a hooch (a place to live) right on the south perimeter of the base, had to build our own bunker (we named it "Ellsworth" after the US South Vietnam ambassador Ellsworth Bunker; Archie Bunker had not yet appeared on the scene). The other guys in the unit were: Bob Valdez, a Pima Indian (remember Ira Hayes?), Bob Sanchez and kid from New Jersey, complete with the accent, Leo Malysa. We did the normal lab work and inspections, but also went to town about once a week to inspect the local ice- making operations! It was a lot more relaxed there and we did lots of card playing and interacted well with the 495th Transportation Unit, a National Guard Unit from Lakeland, Florida. Our Captain was an entomologist and we did a lot insect collecting with him. In fact we listened to part of Super Bowl 4 while flying in a helicopter on an insect scouting mission! I also continued my courier missions, it was a good way to see the country and make time go faster. I tried to extend my tour for 6 additional months, and by doing so I could get out of the Army earlier. However, there was no need for the M.O.S. 91 Sierra so my request was turned down!
Monday, June 14, 2010
You're in the army now!!
Ah yes, Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Basic training, 8 weeks of hell!! Those two years of ROTC at Cornell counted for nothing, I'm a private E-1, probably heading for Vietnam infantry duty. Screw that, I'll sign up for another year, become a Preventive Medicine technician, and get out alive. That was pretty much my thought process; I'll sacrifice another year of my life to hopefully save my life. Sure I can shoot a rifle real well, but killing a deer or woodchuck is a lot different than killing another human being! In fact I even tried to claim that I was a conscientious objector not really knowing what a conscientious objector was. That got a lot brass's attention and when they explained it to me I just said "no, I guess I'm not a C.O. then."
It was hot and dusty at Ft. Jax but I was still in pretty good physical shape and I tried real hard to do my best. I won an inspection contest and got an afternoon off from training. While I was sitting on my bed, my platoon sergeant, a 19 year old kid, came in and ordered me to come with him. I refused and promptly found myself on K.P. in the N.C.O. mess hall for the remaining 5 weeks of training. That was O.K. because I got to watch the 1968 world series on TV in the mess hall. God works in mysterious ways! After eight weeks I was sent to Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, Tx. for my medical training. It was like heaven! We had eight hours of classes from Monday through Friday, very little duty, an off- post pass and weekends free! I did take advantage of this in many ways, which I don't feel like discussing here! I was at last regaining my self esteem. I felt like I was doing something important, and while I still used alcohol, I was having fun at the same time; a different scenario for me. The schooling ended in late January, 1969, and of course I got my orders for Vietnam; but first, a 30 day leave back in Walton! During the leave I got to see a lot of old friends, officially say good by to my estranged wife, and have a legendary blowout send-off party! I flew from JFK to San Francisco, spent a few days sightseeing and shipped out on March 1, 1969, for the greatest adventure of my life.
It was hot and dusty at Ft. Jax but I was still in pretty good physical shape and I tried real hard to do my best. I won an inspection contest and got an afternoon off from training. While I was sitting on my bed, my platoon sergeant, a 19 year old kid, came in and ordered me to come with him. I refused and promptly found myself on K.P. in the N.C.O. mess hall for the remaining 5 weeks of training. That was O.K. because I got to watch the 1968 world series on TV in the mess hall. God works in mysterious ways! After eight weeks I was sent to Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, Tx. for my medical training. It was like heaven! We had eight hours of classes from Monday through Friday, very little duty, an off- post pass and weekends free! I did take advantage of this in many ways, which I don't feel like discussing here! I was at last regaining my self esteem. I felt like I was doing something important, and while I still used alcohol, I was having fun at the same time; a different scenario for me. The schooling ended in late January, 1969, and of course I got my orders for Vietnam; but first, a 30 day leave back in Walton! During the leave I got to see a lot of old friends, officially say good by to my estranged wife, and have a legendary blowout send-off party! I flew from JFK to San Francisco, spent a few days sightseeing and shipped out on March 1, 1969, for the greatest adventure of my life.
"High Above Cayuga's Waters"....
In September. 1961, I went away to college; not very far away as it turns out, unless you are a farm boy who had never been farther than Washington, D.C. in his life. Those 90 or so miles from Walton, my home, my friends and my family might have just as well been half-way around the world! I did however, settle into college life academically and took learning seriously. I never missed a class or was never even late to a class until my Senior year, but that's another story! I remember my 8:00 A.M. Animal Science class was in Morrison Hall which was exactly one mile from University Dorm #1 where I lived in room 1326. Oh, and it was straight up Library Slope, past Jenny McGraw tower, up Tower Road, past the Ag Quad and Dairy Science buildings. I was eventually able to walk it in 12 minutes in all kinds of weather. No, I didn't have a car, or bicycle and bus service was not as available as it is today; I double- timed it! I did not put on any weight during my freshman year due in no small part to all of the walking that I gladly did! I did get home a couple of times a month on the average. I didn't date, wasn't interest in fraternities, just studied, did a lot of running on my own and played regularly in pickup basketball games in the Teagle Hall gym. A guy named Don Byington, from Downsville was there a lot. I always tried to play on his team. Don was one of the guys from Downsville who regularly kicked Walton's butt in basketball. Don was a good friend of my brother Tom who was also a student at Cornell. I didn't see a lot of Tom, he lived in a rooming house on Stewart Avenue. As I have said before, we weren't real close to each other until later in life.
The academics at Cornell were rigorous. You had to learn to prioritize your study time so that you didn't fall too far behind in any course. I made the mistake of thinking that I didn't need to spend a lot of time on Biology since I had scored a 99 on my High Schools Biology regents exam. The whole thing kind of snowballed and I ended up having to get a 75 on my bio final in order to pass. I got a 76 and passed by one point. I never let that happen to me again! In my eight undergrad semesters, I made dean's list three times and was 5th in my class during one semester. I ended up graduating 61st out of about 400 College of Agriculture students. I worked at the Mann Library for two years and used my down time to study back in the "stacks."
During my Senior year I roomed with three Vetrinarian students at 13 Railroad Ave. in Freeville. I finally had my first car, a 1960 Chevy with automatic on the column! I really enjoyed my Senior year, less pressure to keep my GPA up and now I had "wheels" and more freedom! I finally decided to major in Agriculture Education and was lucky enough to receive a Ford Foundation Grant and be accepted to Grad School. I did my student teaching at Cherry Valley and Phelps and in 1966 I accepted my first teaching job at Windsor Central School.
I'm going to jump ahead at this point. As many of my family and friends know, I became increasingly dependent on alcohol over the years and on June 1, 1994, I quit cold- turkey! No rehab, no medications, I just made up my mind to quit and I did; stubborn I guess! My drinking started during my Sophomore year and was just weekend binging to start with, but eventually escalated to a six- pack plus a day in a couple of years. I feel blessed that my life has been as successful as it has despite my alcohol addiction!
Back to Cornell: in 1966 I married a girl named Evelyn Yarnes Smith. Her family is from Walton. It was not a good marriage in any way. She had liver damage from a botched operation and I guess that I felt sorry for her at first and wasn't strong enough to walk away. I don't know how I survived my year at Windsor, my home life was hell! I did well enough teaching, I had a co-teacher named Jerry Quimby who helped me through a lot rough days. Toward the end of the year I heard that Stan Burton, long time Ag teacher at Downsville, was leaving. I applied for, and was given the job. My tenure at Downsville was a disaster. I was drinking heavily, trying to hold it together at home while trying to do a good job teaching. I cared but I couldn't pull it off. I was absent a lot, did not teach well, and ran a sloppy FFA program. In February I was told by my Principal, Mr. Gerald Hutton, that I wouldn't be coming back. At this point there were some things going on in my life that I am so ashamed of that I can't share them in this forum! It was all of my own doing, and I have no one to blame but myself. As long as I was teaching I had a draft deferrment; remember this was during Vietnam. As soon as I lost my deferrment, it was just a matter of time before my number came up; that day was September 9, 1968, and my life was changed forever....
I want to add a few things to my discussion of my life during the years 1961- 1968. I took two years of ROTC at Cornell, but at the end of my second year I decided to opt out instead of accepting a commission as an Officer. During my year at Downsville I lived in a trailer on my brother Tom's property in Walton. I of course was a lousy tenant, hardly ever paid rent, had lots of parties and generally created havoc and hardship for everyone around me. My brother Tom showed the patience of Job and let a lot things go. It was at this point that I started to appreciate my brother more. In the months before my being drafted, my marriage was on the rocks, I was financially destroyed and I continued to drink and party heavily. I needed to get off of this merry go round. Uncle Sam came to my rescue...
The academics at Cornell were rigorous. You had to learn to prioritize your study time so that you didn't fall too far behind in any course. I made the mistake of thinking that I didn't need to spend a lot of time on Biology since I had scored a 99 on my High Schools Biology regents exam. The whole thing kind of snowballed and I ended up having to get a 75 on my bio final in order to pass. I got a 76 and passed by one point. I never let that happen to me again! In my eight undergrad semesters, I made dean's list three times and was 5th in my class during one semester. I ended up graduating 61st out of about 400 College of Agriculture students. I worked at the Mann Library for two years and used my down time to study back in the "stacks."
During my Senior year I roomed with three Vetrinarian students at 13 Railroad Ave. in Freeville. I finally had my first car, a 1960 Chevy with automatic on the column! I really enjoyed my Senior year, less pressure to keep my GPA up and now I had "wheels" and more freedom! I finally decided to major in Agriculture Education and was lucky enough to receive a Ford Foundation Grant and be accepted to Grad School. I did my student teaching at Cherry Valley and Phelps and in 1966 I accepted my first teaching job at Windsor Central School.
I'm going to jump ahead at this point. As many of my family and friends know, I became increasingly dependent on alcohol over the years and on June 1, 1994, I quit cold- turkey! No rehab, no medications, I just made up my mind to quit and I did; stubborn I guess! My drinking started during my Sophomore year and was just weekend binging to start with, but eventually escalated to a six- pack plus a day in a couple of years. I feel blessed that my life has been as successful as it has despite my alcohol addiction!
Back to Cornell: in 1966 I married a girl named Evelyn Yarnes Smith. Her family is from Walton. It was not a good marriage in any way. She had liver damage from a botched operation and I guess that I felt sorry for her at first and wasn't strong enough to walk away. I don't know how I survived my year at Windsor, my home life was hell! I did well enough teaching, I had a co-teacher named Jerry Quimby who helped me through a lot rough days. Toward the end of the year I heard that Stan Burton, long time Ag teacher at Downsville, was leaving. I applied for, and was given the job. My tenure at Downsville was a disaster. I was drinking heavily, trying to hold it together at home while trying to do a good job teaching. I cared but I couldn't pull it off. I was absent a lot, did not teach well, and ran a sloppy FFA program. In February I was told by my Principal, Mr. Gerald Hutton, that I wouldn't be coming back. At this point there were some things going on in my life that I am so ashamed of that I can't share them in this forum! It was all of my own doing, and I have no one to blame but myself. As long as I was teaching I had a draft deferrment; remember this was during Vietnam. As soon as I lost my deferrment, it was just a matter of time before my number came up; that day was September 9, 1968, and my life was changed forever....
I want to add a few things to my discussion of my life during the years 1961- 1968. I took two years of ROTC at Cornell, but at the end of my second year I decided to opt out instead of accepting a commission as an Officer. During my year at Downsville I lived in a trailer on my brother Tom's property in Walton. I of course was a lousy tenant, hardly ever paid rent, had lots of parties and generally created havoc and hardship for everyone around me. My brother Tom showed the patience of Job and let a lot things go. It was at this point that I started to appreciate my brother more. In the months before my being drafted, my marriage was on the rocks, I was financially destroyed and I continued to drink and party heavily. I needed to get off of this merry go round. Uncle Sam came to my rescue...
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Black holes
(To fully understand this blog, you need to listen to the video that goes with this card. You can just google "black hole" or I am sure that you can catch it on You tube) I am weighing in on the NAACP Black hole graduation card controversy. I just listened to those little racists named "Hoops" and "Yoyo" and their racist speil (not). Come on Mr. Jenkins of the Los Angeles NAACP, did we both even hear the same playful banter, challenging ostensibly black graduates to conquer the world and conquer the universe? Apparently not! I did not hear the word black "whore" used, even though I tried to imagine that it was there, instead of the word "hole". Don't you people (oh, I'm sorry, did not mean to be racist by referring to you as "you people!") have more important issues to worry about like black underacheivement, black graduation rates, black unemployment; oh, and most importantly, those black- hearted conservative radio talk show racists!
I have the ultimate solution for this problem; take the term "black hole"( which is credited to a Princeton Professor and physicist, Manhattan project participant, and non- slave owner as far as I can determine, named John Archibald Wheeler) out of the lexicon and replace it with one of the following: Limbaugh's left ventricle, Beck's blood beater, O'Reilly's aorta, Hannity's hemithorax or finally, Savage's superior vena cava. By doing this, we will finally show that those racist Conservative talk show hosts have hearts that are indeed black holes!
I have the ultimate solution for this problem; take the term "black hole"( which is credited to a Princeton Professor and physicist, Manhattan project participant, and non- slave owner as far as I can determine, named John Archibald Wheeler) out of the lexicon and replace it with one of the following: Limbaugh's left ventricle, Beck's blood beater, O'Reilly's aorta, Hannity's hemithorax or finally, Savage's superior vena cava. By doing this, we will finally show that those racist Conservative talk show hosts have hearts that are indeed black holes!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Me, the formative years!
The hardest blog to write is about yourself, but here goes: I was born on May 1, 1943 and was named David Ralph Jackson. The David, I guess, was after my Grandmother's brother, David Jacobson. The Ralph was after my Maternal Grandfather, Ralph Amos Lake. I was born in the farmhouse on the old Weber farm up Beers Brook. I did have to have a blood transfusion as I was an "rh" baby. In fact Fred Beecher, a long time friend of my mom and dad said "That boy isn't going make it" upon looking at me. I guess my color was bad! I don't of course remember much about my early childhood. I was told that I fell into the brook off the bridge on the old Weber farm at an early age. I don't remember when we moved to Beerston, but I know that by the time I attended kindergarten we were living in Beerston. I guess I had quite an imagination as a child (feel free to insert your favorite insult here!) I told my family that the bus driver, Jim Stanton, let me ride on his lap on the first day of school! A few years later when my mother asked where I had been, I told her that I was picking apples and had picked exactly 60 of them. This was in May, long before the apple season! I also used the word "bull s**t" quite often and had my mouth washed out with Ivory soap as a result.
I attended Townsend School for a few weeks in kindergarten, Mrs. Cora Runnells was my teacher. I was then moved to Miller Avenue School where I attended through 6th grade. I didn't get kicked out of Townsend, I guess I just got rezoned. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! My Miller Avenue teachers included Mrs. Dorothy Thomson, Mrs. Blanche Gilchrist, Mrs Wanda
Henderson, Mrs Haynes (who was Art Jamieson's mother in law), Mrs Margaret Nichols and Miss Bessie Schackelton. I was lucky to have the most caring, dedicated teachers in the world. They actually TAUGHT and expected us to learn, what a concept! Mr. Rosati was the art teacher, Miss Grescavage (later Lucille Courtney) taught music and Mr. Bob Popp, later my basketball coach, taught PE. Miss Merchant (later Mrs Richard Williams) was the school nurse and I think the Dental hygenist was named Mrs Race. Mr. Harry Dyer was the school custodian. Someone please correct me if I am wrong on any of these names. I had lots of friends and great memories of Miller Avenue. I remember playing marbles and usually getting beaten by Willie Tennant, swinging on the swings, riding on the merry go round thingy at breakneck speed, sneaking through the back fence to go down to Liguori's store for candy, playing in the woods, and just doing the fun things that kids do. It was a great break from the drudgery of the farm. I hated it when I was sick and had to miss school. I actually looked forward to going to school, learning and just being a kid. I think that best of all of my teachers was Miss Schackelton who was my 6th grade teacher. We had a group of boys who were feeling our oats by 6th grade and we engaged in farting contests with the attendant laughing and giggling. Miss Schackelton was undeterred and just kept on teaching; I really admired her for that. I remember taking a field trip to Townsend School. When I walked into that gym for the first time, I thought that it was the biggest place ever! Later on, I realized that it was just a bandbox when it came to basketball courts.
Then I moved on to Junior High, 7th and 8th grade. It wasn't much of an adjustment for me; there were teachers and there were things to learn, so I did. I continued to love school and by now had at least a passing interest in girls. I remember in 7th grade that Betsy Telford and I devised a code which allowed us to pass notes back and forth. Again, I had great teachers; Mrs. Oles, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Ligouri, Mrs. Palmquist, Mrs. Pine and Mrs. Forsythe. I never had Mrs. Gadwood for a teacher and I'm sure that I have left someone out, sorry! True story: I was going to Florida in 1970 after I had gotten back from Vietnam, and who should I see on the plane; Mrs. Forsythe! We sat next to each other and had a great conversation. I learned to play the trumpet under Mr. Jamieson, took shop under Mr. Salton, and John Elderkin was my Ag teacher. At 8th grade graduation, I think I was 3rd academically behind Doug Mace and Betsy Kelley. I played Junior High basketball and learned to love the game even though I was not as good as I thought I was. Richard Shepard was probably my best Junior High friend. I remember we went to the 8th grade prom with Donna Budine and Karen Hogan as our dates.
Next of course, came High School. As a freshman I didn't do much except study and learn, I was in band, orchestra and chorus. I played freshman basketball, but had not discovered running yet. In my sophomore year I started taking Agriculture as well as carrying my college prep course load. My relationship with Mr. Elderkin was not all that good. He kept pushing me to do more, to be better and I didn't think I needed that push. I did well in Ag and FFA despite myself. I was the Chapter Vice President for two years (Ryan Kilmer was President), went to the District finals in public speaking and received my Empire Farmer degree. Now almost 50 years later, and after a 35 year career as an Ag teacher myself, I realize that he was right. So for the first time ever I want to say , "Thank you Mr. Elderkin!" It was in this year of school that I discovered running. I went out for track and ran the mile. By the end of the year I was the top miler on the team and had finally found a sport at which I was good. Oh sure, I played JV basketball that year but was limited by my lack of height and my insistence on shooting 20 plus feet set shots! So in my Junior year I went out for cross country. I was immediately the best runner on the team. I regularly finished in the top 5 of most of the inviational meets in which I competed. I remember winning a dual meet against Oneonta and the next Walton finisher was in 11th place. There was only one way for me to run; go out fast and try to hang on. My training was not very scientific, again I did not understand running at a slower than race pace to get into shape. It was all out or nothing for me! At some point, Mr. Jamieson, the music teacher, compared warming up and practicing a musical piece to warming up and preparing for a sporting event. It seemed like he was talking to me! That somewhat changed my approach and served me well later in life. I did well in track my Junior and Senior years, winning a majority of my races and setting a record for the fairgrounds track of 4:48. My senior year in cross country was pretty special too. Myself and Willie Tennant, who was out for cross country for the first time, finished first and second at the Sectional qualifying meet, beating a lot of good runners in the process! I also played varsity basketball but spent most of my time "riding the pine". When I did get into games I was looking for my patented set shot, called the "frog shot". Even if I made the shot, I didn't dare to look back at he bench to see Coach Popp's reaction! What about girls, you ask? Yes I did have some girlfriends, in particular Susan Hulbert. I graduated 9th in the class, wrote the class song and prepared to study agriculture at Cornell University!
I attended Townsend School for a few weeks in kindergarten, Mrs. Cora Runnells was my teacher. I was then moved to Miller Avenue School where I attended through 6th grade. I didn't get kicked out of Townsend, I guess I just got rezoned. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! My Miller Avenue teachers included Mrs. Dorothy Thomson, Mrs. Blanche Gilchrist, Mrs Wanda
Henderson, Mrs Haynes (who was Art Jamieson's mother in law), Mrs Margaret Nichols and Miss Bessie Schackelton. I was lucky to have the most caring, dedicated teachers in the world. They actually TAUGHT and expected us to learn, what a concept! Mr. Rosati was the art teacher, Miss Grescavage (later Lucille Courtney) taught music and Mr. Bob Popp, later my basketball coach, taught PE. Miss Merchant (later Mrs Richard Williams) was the school nurse and I think the Dental hygenist was named Mrs Race. Mr. Harry Dyer was the school custodian. Someone please correct me if I am wrong on any of these names. I had lots of friends and great memories of Miller Avenue. I remember playing marbles and usually getting beaten by Willie Tennant, swinging on the swings, riding on the merry go round thingy at breakneck speed, sneaking through the back fence to go down to Liguori's store for candy, playing in the woods, and just doing the fun things that kids do. It was a great break from the drudgery of the farm. I hated it when I was sick and had to miss school. I actually looked forward to going to school, learning and just being a kid. I think that best of all of my teachers was Miss Schackelton who was my 6th grade teacher. We had a group of boys who were feeling our oats by 6th grade and we engaged in farting contests with the attendant laughing and giggling. Miss Schackelton was undeterred and just kept on teaching; I really admired her for that. I remember taking a field trip to Townsend School. When I walked into that gym for the first time, I thought that it was the biggest place ever! Later on, I realized that it was just a bandbox when it came to basketball courts.
Then I moved on to Junior High, 7th and 8th grade. It wasn't much of an adjustment for me; there were teachers and there were things to learn, so I did. I continued to love school and by now had at least a passing interest in girls. I remember in 7th grade that Betsy Telford and I devised a code which allowed us to pass notes back and forth. Again, I had great teachers; Mrs. Oles, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Ligouri, Mrs. Palmquist, Mrs. Pine and Mrs. Forsythe. I never had Mrs. Gadwood for a teacher and I'm sure that I have left someone out, sorry! True story: I was going to Florida in 1970 after I had gotten back from Vietnam, and who should I see on the plane; Mrs. Forsythe! We sat next to each other and had a great conversation. I learned to play the trumpet under Mr. Jamieson, took shop under Mr. Salton, and John Elderkin was my Ag teacher. At 8th grade graduation, I think I was 3rd academically behind Doug Mace and Betsy Kelley. I played Junior High basketball and learned to love the game even though I was not as good as I thought I was. Richard Shepard was probably my best Junior High friend. I remember we went to the 8th grade prom with Donna Budine and Karen Hogan as our dates.
Next of course, came High School. As a freshman I didn't do much except study and learn, I was in band, orchestra and chorus. I played freshman basketball, but had not discovered running yet. In my sophomore year I started taking Agriculture as well as carrying my college prep course load. My relationship with Mr. Elderkin was not all that good. He kept pushing me to do more, to be better and I didn't think I needed that push. I did well in Ag and FFA despite myself. I was the Chapter Vice President for two years (Ryan Kilmer was President), went to the District finals in public speaking and received my Empire Farmer degree. Now almost 50 years later, and after a 35 year career as an Ag teacher myself, I realize that he was right. So for the first time ever I want to say , "Thank you Mr. Elderkin!" It was in this year of school that I discovered running. I went out for track and ran the mile. By the end of the year I was the top miler on the team and had finally found a sport at which I was good. Oh sure, I played JV basketball that year but was limited by my lack of height and my insistence on shooting 20 plus feet set shots! So in my Junior year I went out for cross country. I was immediately the best runner on the team. I regularly finished in the top 5 of most of the inviational meets in which I competed. I remember winning a dual meet against Oneonta and the next Walton finisher was in 11th place. There was only one way for me to run; go out fast and try to hang on. My training was not very scientific, again I did not understand running at a slower than race pace to get into shape. It was all out or nothing for me! At some point, Mr. Jamieson, the music teacher, compared warming up and practicing a musical piece to warming up and preparing for a sporting event. It seemed like he was talking to me! That somewhat changed my approach and served me well later in life. I did well in track my Junior and Senior years, winning a majority of my races and setting a record for the fairgrounds track of 4:48. My senior year in cross country was pretty special too. Myself and Willie Tennant, who was out for cross country for the first time, finished first and second at the Sectional qualifying meet, beating a lot of good runners in the process! I also played varsity basketball but spent most of my time "riding the pine". When I did get into games I was looking for my patented set shot, called the "frog shot". Even if I made the shot, I didn't dare to look back at he bench to see Coach Popp's reaction! What about girls, you ask? Yes I did have some girlfriends, in particular Susan Hulbert. I graduated 9th in the class, wrote the class song and prepared to study agriculture at Cornell University!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
My family
I grew up with 4 brothers. I learned later in life that my Mother had miscarried with a girl also. It would have been great to have a sister to protect from other guys like me!
Mom and Dad were married in December of 1940. Mom's maiden name was Lake and most of her family lived in the Cooks Falls and Roscoe area. She had 11 brothers and sisters, not uncommon in those days. My Grandma Lake owned the Kozy Korner restaurant in Roscoe. I remember going over there, usually on Sundays and having great meals. She had a pinball machine in the restaurant which she allowed us kids to play. Grandma Lake was adopted by a Delaware Indian named Jimmy Brown. She looked every bit like an Indian, the high cheek bones, ruddy complexion. I'm not sure if she was biologically an indian but that would help explain a lot of our unruly behavior! Grandpa Lake was a stocky, strong man. He died when I was only three but I slightly remember him. My mom had a brother, Howard, who was a lumberjack. He worked the woods on our farm in Beerston for a few years and I remember him as the strongest, most solidly built man that I had ever seen. Mom's sister, Aggie helped grandma run the restaurant and later on had her own diner in Parksville on Route 17 toward the city. A lot of the Breakstone's truck drivers from Walton stopped in for her food.
My Dad, Simon Graham Jackson, came from Scottish heritage on his Dad's side and Jewish heritage on Grandma Jackson's side. Her family name was Jacobson and most of her brothers and sisters lived well into their 90's, and her sister Mabel, I believe lived to 102. Hope I got some of those genes! Back to Dad: Dad was as good a farmer as there was around. He knew animals, would have been a great veterinarian, and knew crops and machinery. He was the complete package as a farmer! He didn't have much use for anything or anyone who took him or us boys away from our job of running the farm. He never showed up to any of my track meets or basketball games, but I understood, I really did. He said that the two biggest problems with summer was "flies and baseball." Dad went Cornell for two years and got a Degree in Dairy Husbandry. He was proud of his schooling and pushed us to get an education. He did not particularly want us to be "just farmers." He would have been a hard act to follow in farming. Dad was sick the last few years of his life and I got real close with him during that time. He was so proud of me for quitting drinking in 1994 and I promised him that my sobriety would last- and it has! Dad died in 1995 and even though he had been real sick, it was hard for me to accept. In fact, in 1995 I lost Dad, Carol's Dad, my good friend Tom Robinson and my sports hero Mickey Mantle. He left Mom well off financially at his death but she was too generous to some of her family. It makes me sad that people would take advantage of her kindness, but things like that happen.
My oldest brother, William Thomas (Tom) Jackson was named after our Grandfather Jackson. He was born in February, 1942. Tom and I were not real close as kids, although we never fought as I recall. Later on in life we have become about as close as two brothers can be, even though we disagree on politics and the Yankees. Tom was always a Brooklyn Dodger fan. I don't recall his reaction when the Dodgers beat the Yankees in the 1955 World Series, but I don't think he rubbed it in too badly. Tom was a good student and a model citizen. He was a hard act to follow in school! He played center on the Walton football team at about 130 lbs! I remember they got beaten by Windsor 83-0 and he broke his nose. As I remember, he was right out there the next week ready to play. He was tough and I admired him for that. I never did play football but became a pretty good runner and even played varsity basketball. That's a subject for another blog, though. Tom was a great help to Grandma Jackson after Grandpa Jackson passed away in 1951. He helped her milk cows and do all of the other farm chores. All of us boys liked staying overnight at Grandma's. She always had lots of sweets to eat, and we played games like dominos, parcheesi and chinese checkers. As I recall, she did not have a TV set, or if she did we never watched it. She also had an old RCA wind up, crank victrola. We would sit for hours at a time listening to old Scottish records. "I'm forever blowing bubbles" was our favorite. Back to Tom: After he graduated from High School in 1960 he went Cornell University for two years and received a degree in Dairy Husbandry. He then bought a farm from Aunt Ida, married Sandra Tommel in 1964, raised four kids: Will, Jennifer, Sam and Jacqueline. He sold his herd in1987 and went to work for New York State Electric & Gas (NYSEG). He had some serious health problems in 2000, so he retired. Tom and Sandy have since moved to Oneonta, NY and have a nice house right off the the first green at Oneonta Country Club. Tom does not play golf and is constantly harassed about it by many of his so- called friends! In 2007 Tom had another major health scare: breast cancer! Yes it's true, about 1500 men per year in The US are diagnosed with it. Tom went through the requisite chemo and radiation, and thanks to his positive outlook, supportive family and fantastic Doctors, he is cancer free! He was found to have the Brac 2 gene which predisposed him to the cancer. Thankfully I do not carry that mutation. It comes from our Grandma Jackson's side of the family apparently. We get to visit Tom and Sandy every summer and they have been down to see us twice since we have been in Texas. As we get older, it seems to be more important that we see each other as much as possible.
(Added June 7th) And then there's my brother Sim: Simon James Jackson, born Feb. 26, 1947. Sim is very complex individual. He has all of the musical talent in the world, and for that I hate him (jk!). He was a terrific athlete in High School, and as an adult ran the Marine Corps Marathon several times. He joined the Marines and served a tour in Vietnam. As a matter of fact, he and I were in Country at the same time, but we never got a chance to get together over there. Sim had a music scholarship to Muskingum University in Ohio. His first order of business was to form a band to play at local bars in Zanesville, Ohio. School was, well, it was not at the top of his priority list! Sim has worked some interesting jobs during his life. He was the Frito- Lay man (feel free to insert your own joke here!), he worked for the New York State Conservation Department, and he was a VA Counselor for New York State for over 20 years. He was the best as a counselor. Many vets have come to me or other members of my family praising Sim for getting things done for them. One example is my brother in law, Ronnie Lewis. The VA was taking money back from Ronnie for years before Sim got on their case, got Ronnie a great settlement, and complete disability status. Talk about changing people's lives...
Sim always had a band to play in. Many of you probably remember the "Pulsations" with lee Grotevant, Doug Thomson, Frank Sabbia and Steve Rutherford. They were good, too. In fact they played at Cayuga Lodge, Cornell University for a party while I was attending Cornell. All of the lodge brothers were impressed! In the 70's he would play at Sutt's, the Bear Spring Inn, regularly. He always drew a great crowd. Hey, what happens on break stays on break! He played lots of weddings , class reunions and maybe a funeral wake or two!
Sim has had two wives. The first was Vickie (Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) North from Walton. I remember, somewhat, some of the awesome parties that they would throw at their house. I remember visiting them in Groton, NY, in the late 70's. He was still working for Frito- Lay. We went to a local bar and met John Boecke and maybe Pricey, too. His second wife, Beth lives on Fox Farm road on the way to Sidney Center. She runs a Joshua House operation and is as skilled as she is devoted to her clients.
Next is my brother John. John Arthur Jackson was born Feb.2, 1956, Groundhog's day. He was nicknamed Johnny Chuck at an early age. His middle name, Arthur was after Arthur Radecker, some kind of relation to my dad's family. Uncle Arthur, as we called him is buried in the Downsville cemetery close to the Jackson plot. He was a WW I veteran. John was born at a time just right to be picked on unmercifully by us older boys. In fact our mother blames us for some of his problems later in life, and I think she was serious! I remember Tom's friend, Harry France, used to join us in the "teasetivities" also! John worked on the farm and dad sold it to him in about 1984. John then sold the herd in 1986 and leased the farm to Don Dunbar. Don is still on the farm to this day. I was personally disappointed that John didn't make a better effort to keep the farm going, but again, I wasn't there. John and Karen had three boys; Todd, Jimmie and Reggie. Todd was an excellent baseball player. In 1988, Todd, Jimmy Jacob and Craig Murphy stayed with us in Florida for about a week. They were attending the Doyle baseball camp in Winter Haven. We took them to see "Bull Durham" while they were there. In retrospect, we probably should have pre-screened the movie! Todd also sliced off the very tip of his finger using the handy- dandy V- slicer, one of those seen on TV gadgets! Todd went to the University of Tampa for a year. They had an awesome baseball program back then, including a first baseman named Tino Martinez, who later became a Yankee semi- legend! Unfortunately, John has decided to not communicate with the family or attend family functions for the past decade or so; very sad!
The last Jackson boy was Jim: James Jardine Jackson. Jardine was a family name. We always used to tease Jim that mom and dad wanted a girl, hence the name Jardine! Jim was born on November 18. 1960. I remember the day very well, because on Nov 16th I had broken a metatarsal bone in my foot during basketball practice. I finished practice but the next morning my mom had to take me to Doc Schackten for a cast. The next day she cleaned the bulk milk tank before going to the hospital to give birth. Tough, tough lady... I was able to shoot a deer out in the pasture, yes it was in season for a change, and with the help of our hired man, Clayton Gilbert, get it back to the house, clean it and hang it. Back to Jim; Jim was a real cute kid and had a way with the ladies. He was also a great cook from an early age, learning the tricks of the trade from Mom, who as many of you know, was as good a cook as there was in Walton! Jim was a good wrestler in High School and I remember watching him and brother John go at it full bore at home. Jim was married to Judy Budine and they have a son, Chad. Chad was an excellent football and basketball palyer, and a pretty good golfer too. I remember playing golf with Jim, John and Sim. Four lefties playing together, quite a rarity! I'm sure that many of you know that Jim is back working for the Rainbow. He is as good a restaurant cook as there is, in my never to be humble opinion. Jim and I had a falling out for a few years but we are good again; that's the way family should be.
Mom and Dad were married in December of 1940. Mom's maiden name was Lake and most of her family lived in the Cooks Falls and Roscoe area. She had 11 brothers and sisters, not uncommon in those days. My Grandma Lake owned the Kozy Korner restaurant in Roscoe. I remember going over there, usually on Sundays and having great meals. She had a pinball machine in the restaurant which she allowed us kids to play. Grandma Lake was adopted by a Delaware Indian named Jimmy Brown. She looked every bit like an Indian, the high cheek bones, ruddy complexion. I'm not sure if she was biologically an indian but that would help explain a lot of our unruly behavior! Grandpa Lake was a stocky, strong man. He died when I was only three but I slightly remember him. My mom had a brother, Howard, who was a lumberjack. He worked the woods on our farm in Beerston for a few years and I remember him as the strongest, most solidly built man that I had ever seen. Mom's sister, Aggie helped grandma run the restaurant and later on had her own diner in Parksville on Route 17 toward the city. A lot of the Breakstone's truck drivers from Walton stopped in for her food.
My Dad, Simon Graham Jackson, came from Scottish heritage on his Dad's side and Jewish heritage on Grandma Jackson's side. Her family name was Jacobson and most of her brothers and sisters lived well into their 90's, and her sister Mabel, I believe lived to 102. Hope I got some of those genes! Back to Dad: Dad was as good a farmer as there was around. He knew animals, would have been a great veterinarian, and knew crops and machinery. He was the complete package as a farmer! He didn't have much use for anything or anyone who took him or us boys away from our job of running the farm. He never showed up to any of my track meets or basketball games, but I understood, I really did. He said that the two biggest problems with summer was "flies and baseball." Dad went Cornell for two years and got a Degree in Dairy Husbandry. He was proud of his schooling and pushed us to get an education. He did not particularly want us to be "just farmers." He would have been a hard act to follow in farming. Dad was sick the last few years of his life and I got real close with him during that time. He was so proud of me for quitting drinking in 1994 and I promised him that my sobriety would last- and it has! Dad died in 1995 and even though he had been real sick, it was hard for me to accept. In fact, in 1995 I lost Dad, Carol's Dad, my good friend Tom Robinson and my sports hero Mickey Mantle. He left Mom well off financially at his death but she was too generous to some of her family. It makes me sad that people would take advantage of her kindness, but things like that happen.
My oldest brother, William Thomas (Tom) Jackson was named after our Grandfather Jackson. He was born in February, 1942. Tom and I were not real close as kids, although we never fought as I recall. Later on in life we have become about as close as two brothers can be, even though we disagree on politics and the Yankees. Tom was always a Brooklyn Dodger fan. I don't recall his reaction when the Dodgers beat the Yankees in the 1955 World Series, but I don't think he rubbed it in too badly. Tom was a good student and a model citizen. He was a hard act to follow in school! He played center on the Walton football team at about 130 lbs! I remember they got beaten by Windsor 83-0 and he broke his nose. As I remember, he was right out there the next week ready to play. He was tough and I admired him for that. I never did play football but became a pretty good runner and even played varsity basketball. That's a subject for another blog, though. Tom was a great help to Grandma Jackson after Grandpa Jackson passed away in 1951. He helped her milk cows and do all of the other farm chores. All of us boys liked staying overnight at Grandma's. She always had lots of sweets to eat, and we played games like dominos, parcheesi and chinese checkers. As I recall, she did not have a TV set, or if she did we never watched it. She also had an old RCA wind up, crank victrola. We would sit for hours at a time listening to old Scottish records. "I'm forever blowing bubbles" was our favorite. Back to Tom: After he graduated from High School in 1960 he went Cornell University for two years and received a degree in Dairy Husbandry. He then bought a farm from Aunt Ida, married Sandra Tommel in 1964, raised four kids: Will, Jennifer, Sam and Jacqueline. He sold his herd in1987 and went to work for New York State Electric & Gas (NYSEG). He had some serious health problems in 2000, so he retired. Tom and Sandy have since moved to Oneonta, NY and have a nice house right off the the first green at Oneonta Country Club. Tom does not play golf and is constantly harassed about it by many of his so- called friends! In 2007 Tom had another major health scare: breast cancer! Yes it's true, about 1500 men per year in The US are diagnosed with it. Tom went through the requisite chemo and radiation, and thanks to his positive outlook, supportive family and fantastic Doctors, he is cancer free! He was found to have the Brac 2 gene which predisposed him to the cancer. Thankfully I do not carry that mutation. It comes from our Grandma Jackson's side of the family apparently. We get to visit Tom and Sandy every summer and they have been down to see us twice since we have been in Texas. As we get older, it seems to be more important that we see each other as much as possible.
(Added June 7th) And then there's my brother Sim: Simon James Jackson, born Feb. 26, 1947. Sim is very complex individual. He has all of the musical talent in the world, and for that I hate him (jk!). He was a terrific athlete in High School, and as an adult ran the Marine Corps Marathon several times. He joined the Marines and served a tour in Vietnam. As a matter of fact, he and I were in Country at the same time, but we never got a chance to get together over there. Sim had a music scholarship to Muskingum University in Ohio. His first order of business was to form a band to play at local bars in Zanesville, Ohio. School was, well, it was not at the top of his priority list! Sim has worked some interesting jobs during his life. He was the Frito- Lay man (feel free to insert your own joke here!), he worked for the New York State Conservation Department, and he was a VA Counselor for New York State for over 20 years. He was the best as a counselor. Many vets have come to me or other members of my family praising Sim for getting things done for them. One example is my brother in law, Ronnie Lewis. The VA was taking money back from Ronnie for years before Sim got on their case, got Ronnie a great settlement, and complete disability status. Talk about changing people's lives...
Sim always had a band to play in. Many of you probably remember the "Pulsations" with lee Grotevant, Doug Thomson, Frank Sabbia and Steve Rutherford. They were good, too. In fact they played at Cayuga Lodge, Cornell University for a party while I was attending Cornell. All of the lodge brothers were impressed! In the 70's he would play at Sutt's, the Bear Spring Inn, regularly. He always drew a great crowd. Hey, what happens on break stays on break! He played lots of weddings , class reunions and maybe a funeral wake or two!
Sim has had two wives. The first was Vickie (Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) North from Walton. I remember, somewhat, some of the awesome parties that they would throw at their house. I remember visiting them in Groton, NY, in the late 70's. He was still working for Frito- Lay. We went to a local bar and met John Boecke and maybe Pricey, too. His second wife, Beth lives on Fox Farm road on the way to Sidney Center. She runs a Joshua House operation and is as skilled as she is devoted to her clients.
Next is my brother John. John Arthur Jackson was born Feb.2, 1956, Groundhog's day. He was nicknamed Johnny Chuck at an early age. His middle name, Arthur was after Arthur Radecker, some kind of relation to my dad's family. Uncle Arthur, as we called him is buried in the Downsville cemetery close to the Jackson plot. He was a WW I veteran. John was born at a time just right to be picked on unmercifully by us older boys. In fact our mother blames us for some of his problems later in life, and I think she was serious! I remember Tom's friend, Harry France, used to join us in the "teasetivities" also! John worked on the farm and dad sold it to him in about 1984. John then sold the herd in 1986 and leased the farm to Don Dunbar. Don is still on the farm to this day. I was personally disappointed that John didn't make a better effort to keep the farm going, but again, I wasn't there. John and Karen had three boys; Todd, Jimmie and Reggie. Todd was an excellent baseball player. In 1988, Todd, Jimmy Jacob and Craig Murphy stayed with us in Florida for about a week. They were attending the Doyle baseball camp in Winter Haven. We took them to see "Bull Durham" while they were there. In retrospect, we probably should have pre-screened the movie! Todd also sliced off the very tip of his finger using the handy- dandy V- slicer, one of those seen on TV gadgets! Todd went to the University of Tampa for a year. They had an awesome baseball program back then, including a first baseman named Tino Martinez, who later became a Yankee semi- legend! Unfortunately, John has decided to not communicate with the family or attend family functions for the past decade or so; very sad!
The last Jackson boy was Jim: James Jardine Jackson. Jardine was a family name. We always used to tease Jim that mom and dad wanted a girl, hence the name Jardine! Jim was born on November 18. 1960. I remember the day very well, because on Nov 16th I had broken a metatarsal bone in my foot during basketball practice. I finished practice but the next morning my mom had to take me to Doc Schackten for a cast. The next day she cleaned the bulk milk tank before going to the hospital to give birth. Tough, tough lady... I was able to shoot a deer out in the pasture, yes it was in season for a change, and with the help of our hired man, Clayton Gilbert, get it back to the house, clean it and hang it. Back to Jim; Jim was a real cute kid and had a way with the ladies. He was also a great cook from an early age, learning the tricks of the trade from Mom, who as many of you know, was as good a cook as there was in Walton! Jim was a good wrestler in High School and I remember watching him and brother John go at it full bore at home. Jim was married to Judy Budine and they have a son, Chad. Chad was an excellent football and basketball palyer, and a pretty good golfer too. I remember playing golf with Jim, John and Sim. Four lefties playing together, quite a rarity! I'm sure that many of you know that Jim is back working for the Rainbow. He is as good a restaurant cook as there is, in my never to be humble opinion. Jim and I had a falling out for a few years but we are good again; that's the way family should be.
I remember Beerston
I was born in 1943 in a farmhouse on a farm known as the Weber farm. It was located on a backroad called Beers Brook. I lived most of my childhood on a farm in Beerston, NY. In 1958 we had to move about 3 miles up the road to a new farm on Southside River Road. New York City took one of the most fertile farming valleys anywhere in the world and turned it into a reservoir to supply water to the city. It was called the Cannonsville Reservoir. Other NYC reservoirs were the Ashokan, Neversink, Pepacton, Roundout and Schoharie. I know that people need water to survive but think of the thousands of people's livelyhoods that were destroyed in the name of an available water supply. I always thought "why do they need our water, they've got the Hudson River!"
Beerston, which was named after the founding Beers family, was an unincorporated village, which had about a dozen farms and stretched for about one mile. Today the only standing buildings left are Morgenthauler's garage and the H.B. McDougal residence. I used to say that we should have named our village "Resume Speed".
The center of activity was the Beerston Church. It was of the Presbyterian denomination although at one point we had a fire and brimstone Baptist Preacher named Rev. Friedley. In fact during one of his sermons, he asked who wanted to be saved and my brother Tom and I, who were both under 10 at the time, raised out hands! Hey, who wouldn't want to be saved if all it took was raising your hand?
Everybody in the Community attended church on Sundays. If the census taker came on any given Sunday, he could get a very accurate count of who lived in Beerston! Just imagine, dirt farmers dressed up in suits and ties; quite a sight. They cleaned up real good! My dad always said that if you couldn't give an hour of your week to the Lord you weren't much of a person. Any work besides milking and feeding the cows was taboo on Sundays. This was just fine with me!
About once a month there was a community dinner at Church. Great food, some kind of slide show of somebody's trip to wherever, or singing was common. We kids used to try to get away by 9 PM so we could go up to the Goodrich's house to watch Gunsmoke and Have Gun Will Travel.
We had a choir, mostly kids and teenagers, with a great variation in singing talent. Ida Graby, my dad's sister, was the pianist (we didn't have an organ) and choir director. My brothers Tom, Sim and I all played the trumpet and from time to time we played in Church. Reverend Friedley played the saxophone ( I think of Boots Randolph playing "Yakkity Sax"!) and we jammed pretty good! Aunt Ida was a terrific muscian. She was an elementary school teacher who had served in WW II in psyops as a codebreaker. Her husband, Bert Graby, who passed away in 1962, was a seaman aboard the USS Niblack in WW II and was in the convoy when the Rueben James was torpedoed and sunk. He never talked much about his war experiences.
This is going to go back and forth in time like the "Godfather" trilogy, so please bear with me.
The farms that I remember in Beerston were; the Legion farm which was run by Mr and Mrs June VanValkenburg and later Don and Reatha Budine; my Dad's farm; Grandpa and Grandma Jackson's farm (my Grandfather, William Thomas Jackson, died in 1951 and my Grandmother, Jennie Jacobson Jackson, ran the farm until the city took it in about 1957); Ed and Esther Parsons farm; Walter Tait/ Reuben and Myrtle Johnson farm; Ken and Marge Graby/ Fred and Alma Beecher farm; Sturgis Goorich farm; and the Earl Barnes farm. Just above Beerston was the Alfred and Leland Neff farm, and up Beers Brook was Jesse Bowker farm and Hobart Wilson farm. There were several farms up Southside River Road which I will write about later. Besides the farms, there were other residences. Ken Harris lived just below our farm; the post office which was run for years by Martha (we called her Marthy) and Fred Mosher and Annabelle Barnhart; Mrs Nellie Goodrich, mother of farmer Sturgis Goodrich; Orville and Ardys Whitaker; the Henry Sherman family; the Richardson's; the Yarter's;Joe Morganthauler's house and garage; Harvey and Bernice Alexander's camp; Harold & Hap Micheal; Bill and Betty Walker. There were several other residences, but I cannot recall who lived there. I know that the Calabrese family lived just south of the Church. When the old Beerston schoolhouse closed it was bought by Oscar and Susan Whitaker and they lived there until the demise of Beerston.
Being from a farm family was a hard, but in retrospect, very rewarding, life. We got up at about 5 AM in the morning to go to the barn. As younger kids we did things like feed the calves, clean out calf pens, feed hay to the cows, let the cows out after milking and put fresh bedding in the calf pens. As we grew older, we were expected to climb up in the silo, throw silage with a fork (usually corn) down the chute into a cart, push the cart down the feed aisle and, using a fork, place some silage in front of each cow to eat. No, there were no buttons to push back then, it was all done by hand. We also got involved in milking the cows. This job consisted of washing off their udder and teats with an antibacterial solution, and hooking up the milking machine consisting of a pail, hoses and what we called teat cups on the cow's teats. An alternating vacuum would extract the milk from from the cow. We would disconnect the machine from the cow, usually in about 5- 7 minutes, change pails, put the machine on another cow. Then we would take the pail full of milk to a room we called the milkhouse, pour it through a strainer into a 10 gallon can, and when the can was full, we would lift it into a vat of cold water in order to cool it down to about 40 degrees. If memory serves right, we averaged about 30 cans of milk per day or about 2,500 lbs. Even back in those days, a top- knotch Holstein would give up to 100 lbs. of milk a day. The whole herd probably averaged about 60 lbs. per day per cow. We milked about 40 cows on the average when we lived in Beerston.
We were big baseball fans when we were kids, and the local radio station, WDLA, had Yankee games on during the weekend. If there was a doubleheader (yes we had those things back in the day!) the second game would usually be on during evening milking, from about 5 to 7 PM. My mom would always say that she knew if the Yankees won or not by how we acted after milking!
I actually remember hearing Don Larsen's perfect game in the 1956 World Series while I was feeding cows in the barn before the evening milking.
Speaking of baseball and WDLA, I actually got to go to a World Series game at Yankee Stadium in 1958 with Amos Finch of WDLA. Atlantic gasoline and the Yankees used to sponsor a Junior Sportscaster contest on each of their affiliates. I was the local WDLA winner. The game I went to was game 4 where the Milwaukee (now Atlanta) Braves took a 3 game to 1 series lead over my beloved Yankees. Hall of famer Warren Spahn outdueled Whitey Ford by shutting out the Yankees on 2 hits. In the 4th inning, my hero Mickey Mantle hit the hardest ball I have ever seen. He hit a triple to left center that bounced off the base of the old monuments in Yankee stadium. So even though the Yankees lost, it was a thrill to see Mickey get that hit! By the way, the Yankees came back to win the Series 4 games to 3, the first time that had ever happened!
Later in October, 1958, we moved to the old Gray farm about a mile up South River Road. We had an old fashion cattle drive, walking our herd of about 50 cows about three miles up the road to our new farm. Of course much of the community helped and the whole thing went off without many problems. Other cows will follow the alpha cows in the herd. As I remember, we put halters on some of the cows, led them up the road, and the herd followed!
Beerston, which was named after the founding Beers family, was an unincorporated village, which had about a dozen farms and stretched for about one mile. Today the only standing buildings left are Morgenthauler's garage and the H.B. McDougal residence. I used to say that we should have named our village "Resume Speed".
The center of activity was the Beerston Church. It was of the Presbyterian denomination although at one point we had a fire and brimstone Baptist Preacher named Rev. Friedley. In fact during one of his sermons, he asked who wanted to be saved and my brother Tom and I, who were both under 10 at the time, raised out hands! Hey, who wouldn't want to be saved if all it took was raising your hand?
Everybody in the Community attended church on Sundays. If the census taker came on any given Sunday, he could get a very accurate count of who lived in Beerston! Just imagine, dirt farmers dressed up in suits and ties; quite a sight. They cleaned up real good! My dad always said that if you couldn't give an hour of your week to the Lord you weren't much of a person. Any work besides milking and feeding the cows was taboo on Sundays. This was just fine with me!
About once a month there was a community dinner at Church. Great food, some kind of slide show of somebody's trip to wherever, or singing was common. We kids used to try to get away by 9 PM so we could go up to the Goodrich's house to watch Gunsmoke and Have Gun Will Travel.
We had a choir, mostly kids and teenagers, with a great variation in singing talent. Ida Graby, my dad's sister, was the pianist (we didn't have an organ) and choir director. My brothers Tom, Sim and I all played the trumpet and from time to time we played in Church. Reverend Friedley played the saxophone ( I think of Boots Randolph playing "Yakkity Sax"!) and we jammed pretty good! Aunt Ida was a terrific muscian. She was an elementary school teacher who had served in WW II in psyops as a codebreaker. Her husband, Bert Graby, who passed away in 1962, was a seaman aboard the USS Niblack in WW II and was in the convoy when the Rueben James was torpedoed and sunk. He never talked much about his war experiences.
This is going to go back and forth in time like the "Godfather" trilogy, so please bear with me.
The farms that I remember in Beerston were; the Legion farm which was run by Mr and Mrs June VanValkenburg and later Don and Reatha Budine; my Dad's farm; Grandpa and Grandma Jackson's farm (my Grandfather, William Thomas Jackson, died in 1951 and my Grandmother, Jennie Jacobson Jackson, ran the farm until the city took it in about 1957); Ed and Esther Parsons farm; Walter Tait/ Reuben and Myrtle Johnson farm; Ken and Marge Graby/ Fred and Alma Beecher farm; Sturgis Goorich farm; and the Earl Barnes farm. Just above Beerston was the Alfred and Leland Neff farm, and up Beers Brook was Jesse Bowker farm and Hobart Wilson farm. There were several farms up Southside River Road which I will write about later. Besides the farms, there were other residences. Ken Harris lived just below our farm; the post office which was run for years by Martha (we called her Marthy) and Fred Mosher and Annabelle Barnhart; Mrs Nellie Goodrich, mother of farmer Sturgis Goodrich; Orville and Ardys Whitaker; the Henry Sherman family; the Richardson's; the Yarter's;Joe Morganthauler's house and garage; Harvey and Bernice Alexander's camp; Harold & Hap Micheal; Bill and Betty Walker. There were several other residences, but I cannot recall who lived there. I know that the Calabrese family lived just south of the Church. When the old Beerston schoolhouse closed it was bought by Oscar and Susan Whitaker and they lived there until the demise of Beerston.
Being from a farm family was a hard, but in retrospect, very rewarding, life. We got up at about 5 AM in the morning to go to the barn. As younger kids we did things like feed the calves, clean out calf pens, feed hay to the cows, let the cows out after milking and put fresh bedding in the calf pens. As we grew older, we were expected to climb up in the silo, throw silage with a fork (usually corn) down the chute into a cart, push the cart down the feed aisle and, using a fork, place some silage in front of each cow to eat. No, there were no buttons to push back then, it was all done by hand. We also got involved in milking the cows. This job consisted of washing off their udder and teats with an antibacterial solution, and hooking up the milking machine consisting of a pail, hoses and what we called teat cups on the cow's teats. An alternating vacuum would extract the milk from from the cow. We would disconnect the machine from the cow, usually in about 5- 7 minutes, change pails, put the machine on another cow. Then we would take the pail full of milk to a room we called the milkhouse, pour it through a strainer into a 10 gallon can, and when the can was full, we would lift it into a vat of cold water in order to cool it down to about 40 degrees. If memory serves right, we averaged about 30 cans of milk per day or about 2,500 lbs. Even back in those days, a top- knotch Holstein would give up to 100 lbs. of milk a day. The whole herd probably averaged about 60 lbs. per day per cow. We milked about 40 cows on the average when we lived in Beerston.
We were big baseball fans when we were kids, and the local radio station, WDLA, had Yankee games on during the weekend. If there was a doubleheader (yes we had those things back in the day!) the second game would usually be on during evening milking, from about 5 to 7 PM. My mom would always say that she knew if the Yankees won or not by how we acted after milking!
I actually remember hearing Don Larsen's perfect game in the 1956 World Series while I was feeding cows in the barn before the evening milking.
Speaking of baseball and WDLA, I actually got to go to a World Series game at Yankee Stadium in 1958 with Amos Finch of WDLA. Atlantic gasoline and the Yankees used to sponsor a Junior Sportscaster contest on each of their affiliates. I was the local WDLA winner. The game I went to was game 4 where the Milwaukee (now Atlanta) Braves took a 3 game to 1 series lead over my beloved Yankees. Hall of famer Warren Spahn outdueled Whitey Ford by shutting out the Yankees on 2 hits. In the 4th inning, my hero Mickey Mantle hit the hardest ball I have ever seen. He hit a triple to left center that bounced off the base of the old monuments in Yankee stadium. So even though the Yankees lost, it was a thrill to see Mickey get that hit! By the way, the Yankees came back to win the Series 4 games to 3, the first time that had ever happened!
Later in October, 1958, we moved to the old Gray farm about a mile up South River Road. We had an old fashion cattle drive, walking our herd of about 50 cows about three miles up the road to our new farm. Of course much of the community helped and the whole thing went off without many problems. Other cows will follow the alpha cows in the herd. As I remember, we put halters on some of the cows, led them up the road, and the herd followed!
Ivory soap
When I see commercials on TV today I think "Way Too Much Information". What do I care about panty shields, cooling bras or how to stay feminine fresh? Although I do admit that at my age, my ears perk up when I hear Cialis ads!
When I was a kid in the 50's and early 60's there was ipana or pepsodent toothpaste; poll parrot or buster brown shoes; shredded wheat, corn meal or wheaties! I couldn't choose boxers or briefs; my mom took care of that detail. I used aerosol underarm deodorant which would sometimes become sticky, any razor blade that I could find (yes I've been shaving since I was 14!). If there was no shaving cream available, I just soaped up what beard I had and shaved away! It was at this point that I discovered that pieces of moistened toilet paper would soak up the blood from cutting myself due to using dull razorblades. I made it to school several mornings with pieces still stuck to my face, but the strange looks or giggles soon alerted me that something was wrong. So upon checking my zipper, I soon figured out that the pieces of TP on my face was the object of everyone's bemusement!
There was, however, one personal care product that I would not compromise on; I had to use Ivory soap! No Dove, Camay or whatever feminine fru- fru soap for me, no sir; nothing but Ivory would do! I used it for a shampoo (which might explain the flaking that I noticed), shaving cream as I mentioned before, and of course soap for washing. It didn't lather particularly well, had no discernable smell, and it came in one color- white! It did have one quality which drew me to it; it was 99 and 44/100 % pure! This meant that I was putting nothing bad or toxic or otherwise harmful on my skin while bathing or showering. And while bathing it was always easy to find because it floated! I didn't have time to go feeling for soap at the bottom of my bathtub, I was too busy planning other activities. I don't know why to this day, but going on a date after using a 99 and 44/100 & pure soap made me feel, well it made me feel pure! And since I had not completely discovered girls yet, well that was darned important to me! It made me feel just as pure, or purer even, than the girls I was dating. I did however, look forward to the day that I would become a man and no longer feel the need to use Ivory soap anymore!
When I was a kid in the 50's and early 60's there was ipana or pepsodent toothpaste; poll parrot or buster brown shoes; shredded wheat, corn meal or wheaties! I couldn't choose boxers or briefs; my mom took care of that detail. I used aerosol underarm deodorant which would sometimes become sticky, any razor blade that I could find (yes I've been shaving since I was 14!). If there was no shaving cream available, I just soaped up what beard I had and shaved away! It was at this point that I discovered that pieces of moistened toilet paper would soak up the blood from cutting myself due to using dull razorblades. I made it to school several mornings with pieces still stuck to my face, but the strange looks or giggles soon alerted me that something was wrong. So upon checking my zipper, I soon figured out that the pieces of TP on my face was the object of everyone's bemusement!
There was, however, one personal care product that I would not compromise on; I had to use Ivory soap! No Dove, Camay or whatever feminine fru- fru soap for me, no sir; nothing but Ivory would do! I used it for a shampoo (which might explain the flaking that I noticed), shaving cream as I mentioned before, and of course soap for washing. It didn't lather particularly well, had no discernable smell, and it came in one color- white! It did have one quality which drew me to it; it was 99 and 44/100 % pure! This meant that I was putting nothing bad or toxic or otherwise harmful on my skin while bathing or showering. And while bathing it was always easy to find because it floated! I didn't have time to go feeling for soap at the bottom of my bathtub, I was too busy planning other activities. I don't know why to this day, but going on a date after using a 99 and 44/100 & pure soap made me feel, well it made me feel pure! And since I had not completely discovered girls yet, well that was darned important to me! It made me feel just as pure, or purer even, than the girls I was dating. I did however, look forward to the day that I would become a man and no longer feel the need to use Ivory soap anymore!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Presidential rap
Our president who's named Barack, the man can really talk a crock; he thought that he was such a thrill, until a spill, out in the Gulf, made his numbers go south; and now the press, sees that he's a mess; he's still in power, but hour by hour, in his ivory tower, it's very clear, the end is near, for his regime, it's losing steam, he's got no team, to hold him up, he's so corrupt; the end will really be abrupt, the country will now be bankrupt, because an oil well did erupt....
Irony
So my wife Carol, whom I love dearly, says to me right out of nowhere today, "I want to die first because I couldn't live without you". I ALMOST said, I could feel the words forming on my lips, but fortunately they didn't come out, "so what date can I pencil in for you to die?" Actually, if I HAD said that, she probably would have been charged with my MURDER instead of her dying first. Talk about irony....
The Great Oil Spill of 2010
Well, here we are in day 46 of the great gulf BP oil spill and we may have finally reached "partial containment status". The White House is working hard to bring this unprecedented environmental disaster to a quick conclusion (not). Their strategy is to blame their favorite B's; Bush and B.P. ! It is their plan to hold BP accountable for everything associated with this unfortunate incident and eventually put them out of business.
There was never any any intention on the Obama regime's part to do anything substantive to help mitigate or ameliorate this situation. They are playing the "blame- game" card, which is one of their favorite strategies (see race card, blame America card, etc.) Somehow in their twisted logic they must think that the American people will see this as a good thing, forgive them, and sweep them back into office in 2010 (Congress) and 2012 (Obama). Good luck with that. Do they not read the polls and see that the American people are totally fed up with their Chicago- type politics? I will close by paraphrasing Earl Pitts; "We haven woken up America" !!
There was never any any intention on the Obama regime's part to do anything substantive to help mitigate or ameliorate this situation. They are playing the "blame- game" card, which is one of their favorite strategies (see race card, blame America card, etc.) Somehow in their twisted logic they must think that the American people will see this as a good thing, forgive them, and sweep them back into office in 2010 (Congress) and 2012 (Obama). Good luck with that. Do they not read the polls and see that the American people are totally fed up with their Chicago- type politics? I will close by paraphrasing Earl Pitts; "We haven woken up America" !!
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