Vietnam Service

Vietnam Service
Vietnam Service

Thursday, April 28, 2005

THE UNSINKABLE UNSHAKEABLE INITIAL POST

Its only been years in the making and finally the time is here to create the blog. I'm grateful to Blogspot for the opportunity; my producer (Mom now deceased); and for my arse not getting shot off in the military.

There's a great shortage of common sense in this nation right now. Seemingly, most would rather listen to the blatherings of Scott McClellan, Tom DeLay, Ann Coulter, and television commericals rather than question? How did it get to this point you ask? Simplicity and apathy is favored instead of complexity. Wow, was that profound, but how true...

Let me give you an example. I grew up on a farm in Iowa and we were all dependent on the soil for our livelihood. One day our neighbor, Clell, came by to talk with my Grandfather, Jim, about the current state of affairs in their same age span. Their conversations were always animated, colorful and not completely devoid of expletive deletives.

Clell's grandson came driving a tractor pulling a loaded grainwagon with one side seriously listing into our barnyard. The front left tire was breathing the last of a series of gasps and begged of serious attention to the grandson who was more content to wave. Clell yelled in that commanding tone always heard from parental figures combining love with the fear of god. Gaining the youngster's attention, Clell told him to do something about that damn tire which the youth immediate sprung up and set to work.

Our attention was drawn elsewhere, but something nagged at me. Easiest way to reinject lefe into a tire those days was removing a spark plug from the tractor engine and then reinsert a another plug inflation device connected to a hose which, in turn, screwed onto the other tire stem. Sounds complicated, but it was not a difficult process.

Well, the grandson was not asking about location of an inflation device or anything out of the ordinary. He was, instead, walking around letting air out of the other three tires to equalize the wagon. I smiled and wondered to myself.

Clell noticed this, got a big smile on his face, scratched the back of his head and said only he just had to talk to that boy some day.

Seems we are all having difficulty talking with our elected representatives in the White House and Congress. Well, remember this, just gotta talk to them one day!
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Speaking of common sense, there was another time when my age was about 16. It was July 4th and a group of my cousins conviced me to use my car to spread patriotic fervor by tossing firecrackers, et. al., from the windows. Sounded like a good idea to me and all joined in the festivities until the one thing happened.

I was so overcome with patriotism I lit a Silver Salute (comparable to an M-80) and threw the match out the window. Oddly enough, there was a combined deep gasp and you would thought a Sea Captain had yelled the order to abandon ship. I have never seen 5 people evacuate a Chevy so masterfully in my life. Of couse, the fuse was continuing to burn low so it was tossed out the window at the last possible moment and I merrily continued down the road.

I did turn around and slowly picked up the acrobatic cracker tossers who advised me on the lacking characterisitics of my actions and suggested I place another Silver Salute in a certain part of my anatomy. Too painful and I suggested we just go home, drink some cold soda and chill out. Case closed.
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There was another time my cousin Jerry came to visit and he was a really wonderful guy. Now Jeryy had a good mind and would often wonder about some of the things told him. It was good characteristic and of course, we, as wonderful cousins, would never josh him about anything. He was a hard one to pin down until the subject of flatulation was brought up. Now, it was carefully explained to him that flatulent gas was highly inflammable and was collected in certain parts of Europe as a natural fuel. Jerry scoffed at this and mentioned he had never heard such a tall tale before. Natural he was dared to build up flatulence and place flame to the appropriate spot to prove the theory. He did not succumb to our antics until cousin Gary gave him the odious triple dog dare with crossed finger. It was getting dark when Jerry stood with all the resolution of a great athlete, walked out onto the gravel road, dropped his drawers and placed a lighter to that particular spot. The flatulation arrived, the bic was clicked and all we saw was a blue flame racing down the road, into our barnyard and headfirst into the water trough.

Jerry had successfully proven the theory, but walked rather gingerly for the next few days. His mother didn't think much about it, buy Uncle Clyde, Jerry's Dad, gave him some udder salve as a present and encouraged him to use it. Jerry never brought up the subject again, bu he will always be remembered as the blue flame among the lightning bugs on that warm summer evening.
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Words Of Wisdom: He and my Grandmother were married for 61 years. The followiing response was given when she was asked about the secret of their success: "Well, our marriage was a democracy. I would always listen to his opinion, give it some thought; and then tell him my opinion. Then do it my way!"

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